#it's astonishing how quietly you can close the front door or a kitchen cabinet when you put your mind to it

[non-un-topo]

Let’s play: Am I just really noise sensitive and pissy or are the people I live with actually really inconsiderate and make far more noise than a single human should ever need to?

#typing this out was like a speedrun of a therapy sesh gdfghjgf #i've come to the conclusion that i have legitimate sensory issues and the fact that i've explained this to everyone before #and they continue to slam and throw things and yell right next to each other is evidence that they're just... being inconsiderate dicks. #it's astonishing how quietly you can close the front door or a kitchen cabinet when you put your mind to it #anything is possible babes! including shutting the f up!! <3

[buckys-other-punk]

Why There?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Tony suggests a little game for everyone to play after a party. You and Bucky are partnered up and let’s just say things become heated throughout the game.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, cussing and alcohol/drunk-ish people?

Prompt: “Let’s go fuck in that closet.”

Word Count: 2.8K 

A/N: Helloo loves! Starting off the new year with a new smutty fic! This was suppose to be for a writing challenge I joined back in May (holy shit i’ve put this off for way to long..sorry), but the blog who hosted the challenge kinda logged off of tumblr...but I still wanted to write this if they decided to come back (and check it out) and also for you guys of course. This is also very much unedited (like always because im excited to share this) Lemme know if you guys wanna be tagged in future fics and what you think of this fic! Enjoy ;)

**DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE UNDER 18, BUT I CANT CONTROL YOUR ACTIONS SO THIS FINAL WARNING IS POINTLESS...**

“Fuck, how many drinks have you had?” Sam asked, looking at Bucky.

“Far too many. You think Stark’s gonna stop poisoning us?” he chuckled in reply.

“Guys we should play a game!” Tony slurred excitingly towards all of you.

“Tony, are you drunk?” Steve asked Tony. In response he ignored the captain.

You looked at Natasha who was sitting next to you on the couch. Rolling your eyes you asked the man, “What game should we play Tony?”

“I’m glad you asked my dear sweet Y/N.” he stated as he patted your head gently.

“He’s for sure drunk.” you heard Clint huff under his breath.

“Whoever said that, go suck a dick.” Tony grumbled. “Anyways we should play hide and seek! It would be so fun to play it in this big tower!” he exclaimed.

“Tony, I honestly think you’ve had way too much to drink.” Pepper chuckled at her husband.

“No, I’m fine dear. Seriously guys come on! I’ll make it fair. We can have partners!” Tony explained.

“I call Y/N!” Sam yelled getting up from his seat. 

“Dude what the fuck!” Bucky whispered, slapping his shoulder with an angry expression.

“Hey, I wanted to partner with Y/N.” Natasha pouted towards Tony and you.

“Guys, relax I’m sure Tony is the one who will be picking partners. Isn’t that right Tony?” you hesitantly said looking at Stark.

“That’s right Y/N.” Tony replied. “And since Mr. Wilson over here was so eager he’s going to be partnered with Clint.”

“Noo!” Sam and Clint both shouted in astonishment as they looked at Tony.

“Sorry boys. Nat you’re with Steve.” Tony ordered looking at the pair. “I’m with my beautiful wife of course.”

“Yeah, no I’m tired honey. Being the host of an extravagant party was enough.” she said as she kissed Tony’s cheek.

“Good night Pepper.” you said ever so sweetly.

“Thanks. Have fun guys.” she said waving goodbye to everyone and exiting the room.

“Well, I guess I’m with you Banner. I’m assuming you’re playing.” Tony asked, crossing his arms.

“Do I have a choice?” Bruce said in defeat. 

“Nope!” Tony said. “And that leaves Y/N and Bucky for the final pair.” he added looking towards the two of you. You were kind of happy to be paired with Bucky, even though you wished to be paired with Natasha, but Bucky will have to do. I mean, you and Bucky have been having an on and off thing every so often, how bad would this be? You looked towards Bucky with a smile which he returned.

“What?! How come Bucky gets to be with Y/N!? I called dibs!” Sam said angrily towards Tony.

“Because I said so.” Tony snapped which made Sam go off in the corner to sulk.  “So here are the rules; you can’t ask FRIDAY for help, each pair needs to stay together, if you are found you can’t help the seeker find the others, and this entire floor is up for grabs.” Tony explained.

“Wait, if the entire floor is good to hide, that means we can hide in people’s rooms?” Clint asked with a mischievous smirk.

“Yup, everything is clear. If everyone is ok with that?” Tony asked, looking at everyone.

“Yeah.”    “I’m fine with that.”    “Ok.”     “Sure.”

“Alright, but just in case none touches anybody’s stuff in their rooms. Oh, I also forgot to mention, you can move around if you don’t like your hiding spot.” Tony stated sounding less drunk than before. “So, is everyone ready?” he asked and everyone gave a nod towards the man. 

“Ok, Bruce and I will be the seekers. We’ll give everyone 15 minutes to hide. FRIDAY can you announce when the time is up and who gets found when we find people?” he asked the AI.

“Yes, Mr. Stark.” the AI said. “Your 15 minute timer starts now.”

With that everyone grabbed their partners and took off. Clint practically dragged Sam from the corner where he was sulking. Steve picked up Nat and carried her out of the room. Natasha was furiously yelling at Steve to put her down saying she can walk herself. Bucky grabbed your hand and you both ran towards the kitchen.

As the two of you entered the kitchen you both saw Clint try to shove Sam into one of the cabinets underneath the island table. They both felt yours and Bucky’s stares and whipped their heads towards the two of you.

“GET OUT!” Sam yelled as he tried to shimmy into the storage space. Bucky raised his hands in defeat and the two of you exited the kitchen. As you both were leaving you heard Sam yell to Clint, “Dude quit shoving me so hard!” The two of you laughed as you walked down the hallway.

You both passed the living quarters where you briefly saw red hair hiding behind a dresser. You stopped walking to look into the room, which was Clint’s, and saw blue eyes were peeking underneath a bed. “You guys are gonna be found first.” you said to the two.

“Fuck off Y/N. You guys haven’t even hidden yet.” you heard Nat say from behind the dresser.

“There is 5 minutes remaining.” FRIDAY announced.

“Let’s see who gets found first.” Steve said from underneath the bed.

You shook your head and walked towards Bucky. The two of you couldn’t find a perfect spot to hide and time was running out.

“Y/N there.” Bucky said pointing towards the laundry room. You nodded and the two of you quickly entered the room searching for a good place to hide. 

“Damn it there’s nowhere good to hide in here!” you huffed out towards the man.

“Aw come on Y/N. What about there?” he said pointing to the supply closet. “Let’s go fuck in that closet.” he said with a smirk.

“What the fuck Bucky!” you quietly yelled. “First off, no. Second, why should we hide there? Isn’t it a little too obvious to hide in a closet?” you replied with your hands on your hips.

“Hey at least I tried.” he said, raising his arms in defense. “Well it may be so obvious that the science bros wouldn’t even look there.” Bucky replied, back arms crossed.

“The 15 minute time is up. Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner is on their way.” the AI announced.

“Ugh, fine we’ll hide in the closet.” you huffed in defeat as you pulled Bucky with you towards the closet. You opened the door, shoved Bucky inside first and got in closing the door behind you. The space felt super small with Bucky’s large frame pressed up behind you. His hands were on your hips and you felt his hot breath on your exposed neck. Fuck why did Tony have to have this idea right after a party? You grumbled to yourself.

“You smell nice, doll.” Bucky whispered in your ear.

“That’s fucking creepy Bucky.” you replied back.

“What, I can’t help it. You look so fucking hot in this dress.” he started as he rubbed his hands along your frame which of course gave you goosebumps.

“Wait, be quiet. I think I hear someone.” you whispered. Bucky became quiet, but his arms wrapped around your front this time and he pulled you even closer to his body. You could feel his bulge pressing against your lower back.

“Nothing here.” you heard Bruce yell.

“Did you check the closet?” Tony asked.

“I don’t think anyone would be hiding in the closet. That’s the most obvious place to hide.” Banner said.

“Alright then.” Stark stated as the two of them exited the laundry room.

He sobered up quickly you said to yourself.

Both you and Bucky huffed out the breath you were holding. You waited a good 5 minutes before opening the closet door and pulling Bucky out. As soon as the two of you got out of that closet you heard FRIDAY announce that Natasha and Steve were found first.

“Knew it.” you whispered with a smirk towards Bucky. “We gotta find somewhere else to hide.” you added.

“Where should we go?” he asked, walking towards the exit of the laundry room, looking out into the hallway to see if the coast was clear.

“Maybe someone’s room. I don’t think that Tony and Bruce would go back there since they already found a pair.” you said shrugging your shoulders.

“Alright, let's go to Sam’s room.” Bucky said. “I’ve always wanted to mess with his stuff.” he added with a smirk.

“Tony said to not mess with the rooms, Buck.” you said as the two of you walked into the hallway towards the room.

“Fuck his rules. I’ve been meaning to mess with Wilson’s stuff for a while, but never got the chance.” he snickered.

“Whatever.” you huffed.

The two of you arrived in Sam’s room without hesitation and Bucky wreaked havoc. He went into the bathroom and messed with all of Sam’s toiletries. Sam’s bed was neatly fixed before the two of you got there, but once Bucky finished messing with his bathroom, he walked towards the bed laying down on it.

“You wanna fuck in his bed?” Bucky said wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“What no.” you quickly said.

“Fine, maybe next time.” winking at you as he stood up from the bed. You rolled your eyes as you looked around the room wondering if Tony and Bruce found Sam and Clint. About 15 minutes passed and you were getting bored. Did Tony and Bruce give up?

“You guys are giving me a headache.” you heard Tony announce through the intercoms. “New rule, if you found a new spot to hide you have to stay there.”

“Ugh, I need this game to be over so i can get out of this dress.” you said as you laid on Sam’s bed.

“I can help with that, doll.” Bucky flirted which again made you roll your eyes. “Come one Y/N. Help me get back at Sam for his prank on me. Let’s fuck on his bed.” he begged at you on his knees. You sat up as an idea formed in your mind, which would help him get his revenge.

“No, I’m not gonna have sex with you in Sam’s bed.” you said and Bucky groaned frustrated looking at the ground. “But,” you started and that made him lift his head up. You leaned forwards towards him so that your face was close to his. “I’ll fuck you in his closet.” you said looking straight into his eyes. You saw his blue eyes turn dark filling with lust.

“You’re serious Y/N? You’re not messing with me right?” he asked quietly staring into your eyes

“I’m dead serious babe.” you said confidently and with that Bucky stood up and lifted you into his arms. As he walked towards the closet his blue eyes were staring into your y/e/c eyes. He looked down to your lips then back up at your eyes. Once Bucky entered the open closet he leaned his head forward and connected his lips with yours.

The kiss was passionate and rough. Bucky closed the door slightly so just enough light could peak through. He pressed you up against the wall as he still held onto you. He deepened the kiss and the two of you moaned as your tongues fought for dominance. Your chest was pressed up against his, arms around his neck holding him close and thighs wrapped around his torso.

You felt one of his hands move from your back to your exposed thigh. He ran his hand from your thigh up to your hip, pushing your black dress along with it. Bucky withdrew his lips from yours and attached them to your neck. Unsatisfied with his thin grey dress shirt, you moved your hands to his chest and began to unbutton the fabric wanting more of him. Just as you finished unbuttoning his shirt you both heard a noise outside the closed space. 

Both of you froze in place looking towards the cracked door not wanting to get caught. You heard footsteps walk past the room and a grumble followed by a door shutting. It was probably Steve, tired of Tony’s little game and wanting to sleep the rest of the night. With that the two of you huffed in relief, Bucky looked back to you  with his lustful eyes.

“You’re sure you still want to do this?” he asked face inches to yours.

“If we get caught, then whoever catches us will have a great show.” you said smugly.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you, doll.” he growled as he took off his shirt completely while still holding onto you. 

You followed suit, luckily your dress had no zippers, so you pulled your dress up over your head and kicked off your heels. Bucky pulled back and drooled at the sight of you. You wore a black bralette and lace thong underneath your dress. He grabbed the back of your head and pulled it forward as he pressed his lips on yours once again. Your hands ran up his toned chest to the back of his neck, you used our right hand to slightly pull at his hair which made him moan.

Bucky’s right hand moved from your hip to up your body, stopping at your left breast giving it a light squeeze. Moaning at the sensation you began to grind against his lower half, feeling his dick twitch underneath his dress pants. Bucky pushed the fabric covering your breasts down, his lips removed from yours as he placed hot wet kisses from your jaw down to your chest. Admiring your naked torso he lifted you higher against the wall so he could attach his lips on your hardened nipple as one of his hands began to rub your clit through your lace thong. You moaned, grabbing a fist full of his hair drawing his lips back to yours. 

Once your lips were attached Bucky’s, he began to unbuckle his belt and you fumbled unzipping his pants off. He pushed them down along with his boxer briefs to his thighs and his hard dick sprang free form its restraints. It was your turn to now drool at the sight of him. You moved your right hand between your bodies as you grabbed his dick and began stroking it. Bucky moved his hand back to your clothed pussy and moved your lace thong to the side. He gathered the slick juices from your pussy to his mouth, moaning harder at the taste of you and your actions.

“You ready doll?” he asked looking at your eyes and you replied with a yes. He spat in his hand and pumped his dick before slowly inserting into you. The two of you moaned at the sensation as Bucky held you close waiting for you to adjust to his size.

“Move baby.” you whispered in his ear. Bucky slowly pulled out of you and back in.His movements were torturously slow and you wanted more.

“Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner have found Mr. Wilson and Barton.” FRIDAY announced. 

Oh thank god you said to yourself. “You better make this fast Barnes.” you breathed out finally getting what you wanted.

“Oh doll, if you want fast I’ll show you fast.” he whispered in your ear. Just like that his hips pulled back almost completely and quickly thrusted back into you. You moaned in Bucky’s ear pulling at his hair with your right hand, scratching his back with the other keeping his body close to yours. His pace changed to an agonizing slow pace making you clench around him.

“Fuck Bucky.” you moaned as your head rested on his shoulder. Bucky then thrusted hard into you again. You screamed, biting his shoulder as your back was pressed harder against the wall.

“Shit doll, you’re taking me so well.” he said as he kissed along your jaw. With each sharp thrust his lips moved closer and closer to yours. Once he felt your clench around his dick he placed his lips on yours swallowing your moans. 

“What the fuck?” a voice yelled as they entered his room.

Bucky’s ears perked up and he quickened his pace fucking you harder and harder. You couldn’t control how loud your moans were. You quickly slapped your hand over your mouth, hoping Sam didn’t hear. Your legs began to shake as you felt your climax come near and Bucky felt you clench around his dick. He quickly moved his hand over to your clit rubbing the small bundle of nerves as fast as he could. You both hear footsteps come closer and closer to the closet door. 

You and Bucky began panting hard at how close you both were. You felt Bucky’s dick twitch inside of you, which made you clench around him and just as you both were at the peak of your climax the closet door quickly opened revealing Sam. His eyes wide at the sight of you naked pressed up against the wall and Bucky balls deep inside of you. The two of you groaned in each other's mouths as you both came hearing yelling in the background.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Sam yelled again. Covering his eyes at the scene in front of him, his two best friends having sex with one another.

A/N: WOOOOO! What did you think of this mess! Was it hot (or not)? lol Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat, hit me up! 

Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​​ @sebtheromanianprince​​​ @aquabrie​​ @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan​ @princess76179​​​ @anbrax5553​​​ @wintersoldierissucharide​ @caplanbuckybarnes​​​ @miraclesoflove​​​ @kitkatd7​​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​​ @fandomsandxfiles​​ @hailmary-yramliah​​ @coffeebooksandfandom​​​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​

^please lemme know if you wanna be added/removed for future tags or if i forgot you^

#1ksillyqtchallenge #Bucky Barnes #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky #reader x bucky barnes #reader insert #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[quillandink333]

Scarlet Carnations ~ Part III

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 2k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

The investigation was still underway a week or so later, still without even a semblance of a lead to go on, or at least not a favourable one. Auntie Purah still had yet to take the Slate into the lab as she’d promised, which was understandable. She was still in deep mourning, after all. I, however, still got up at six o’clock each and every day to make my way to the site, as if the murderer would one day just walk out into the open if I waited long enough.

Truth be told, despite my conscious efforts to suppress it, a part of me deep down was growing weary of one fruitless search after another. Most of the cases I’d led up to this one had been closed within a maximum three days. Admittedly I’d even begun to consider ways to dispose of the fatal evidence I’d been carrying with me since the start of all this. No one but Paya and I knew of its existence, and no one but us would ever have to. Besides, if these egregious felonies truly were the designs of the organization—which they had to be—there was no way I’d ever find any clues leading toward the perpetrator’s true identity, let alone that of their ever elusive boss.

And yet, every morning when I returned to the scene of the crime, with officers bustling about and those who remained of my family sitting quietly in another room, I was reminded of my ultimate purpose. It wasn’t a matter of being able or unable to catch my godmother’s killer. It was one of necessity. Letting them roam the streets as they pleased was not even a part of the equation. I hadn’t spent the better part of the last decade toiling away to reach my current level of authority as a detective investigator simply to throw it all away as soon as my will was tested. That wasn’t what Auntie Impa, nor what Mother, would’ve wanted. I had to uncover the truth, no matter the cost.

What happened next, however, would make my distress up until then seem almost laughable.

I was made aware of it via wire on one muggy afternoon at my office, when I’d decided to work on typewriting up some reports. I picked up the phone only to hear the wails of one distraught Auntie Purah on the other end.

“Zelda, it’s terrible!” she cried. “The Slate—Impa’s Slate—I’ve looked everywhere, and so have Paya and Symin and all the men here on duty, but I—it’s...we can’t—we haven’t...” The poor, old woman was hyperventilating, creating awful static noises through the speaker’s papery membrane.

“Auntie, it’s okay. Calm down,” I urged gently. “Take a few deep breaths.”

“Alright...” A few moments of silence went by before I heard her voice again. “Thank you, dear.”

“Not at all. Now, what were you saying about the Slate?”

“It’s been stolen.”

I froze, breath stagnant and eyes glued to the edge of my desk. “It’s—what?”

“Stolen,” she repeated, only deepening the pit forming in my stomach, from where my heart was now pounding. “Right out from under our noses. We’ve searched high and low for it, but there’s been no sign of it, or the thief.”

I had to reign in my voice before I’d start shouting at her. “H-How can you be sure it was stolen?” The vigilant Link’s eyes now bore into me with intensity from his place by the file cabinets.

“The lock on the safe,” blubbered my auntie, “the one in the study that it’s always kept in. You know the one?”

“Yes?”

“It was broken, and the safe was empty.”

“But...that’s impossible.”

“Precisely!” she cried, giving me a start. “I still haven’t the foggiest how they did it.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

With that, I hung up and prepared for immediate departure, my assistant just a few paces behind me. I had to see this for myself.

Surely enough, when we arrived, the safe’s lock was destroyed beyond repair, and there was nothing but dust to be found inside. Unsurprisingly, the thief had been careful to leave no fingerprints behind, just as the killer had been. For now, though, it was too soon to say for certain that the same individual was behind both crimes.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed the lock mechanism had been melted. My eyes widened. “That’s not something you see every day.” Constable Fyori crouched down beside me, then gave a similar reaction when he noticed the cause of my astonishment.

The thief had to have been someone with access to a welding torch or something along those lines. There certainly weren’t many who fit that description, save for the police. In fact, the whole reason they were issued out to a select few officers was for this very purpose, but situations requiring said officers to break locks such as this one using such extreme methods were few and far between. Nevertheless, the possibility stood.

It was for this reason that I finally gave in and decided to take up the case with the chief detective once we’d finished here. As always, Constable Fyori accompanied me thereto.

Chief Bosphoramus’ office was neither too grand nor too modest, not unlike my own, though it still clearly belonged to someone of high rank. It resided on the third floor of the three-storey building where my dear colleague and I made our livelihoods, boasting a broad view of the deceivingly peaceful streets below.

“It seems UC3680G662LL was the only officer on the scene who was equipped with a cutting torch,” relayed the old man, hunched over the records lain across his desk. “Unfortunately, however, he resigned just yesterday.”

I waited a number of seconds for him to follow up with something useful, but to no avail. “So...what? You’re saying we can’t go question him now? Because he ran away?”

He clasped his fingers together in front of him, looking at me like an elementary school principal. “That is what I am saying, yes.”

I wanted to growl like a bear as imitated by a child, but I held it in. “You do realize what this means, don’t you?” I scoffed. “No doubt he was a member of the organization sent to steal the Slate after killing its owner.”

“Now you listen here, Inspector.” The chief’s tone turned serious. I closed my mouth. “You of all people should know that not a single square inch of this town is safe. Not even this precinct.”

“Yes, but Sir, surely you agree that this entire case has ‘Yiga’ written all over—”

“Are you mad?!”

His thundering voice made Link and I jump. The room fell silent, the chief’s eyes flickering between the door and the open window behind him.

Then he rose from his seat to close the shutters. “Have you some sort of death wish?” he continued at an infinitesimal volume in comparison.

I bit my tongue, restraining the urge to retort with, “Whose fault is that?” for I knew I would only be spinning my wheels. There’d once been a saying in this city: “When one sheep leads the way, all the rest follow.” And Chief Detective Bosphoramus was a perfect reflection of this. Every last member of the force was the same. Weak-willed curs. Shirking from their sworn duties and hiding away behind their shields of specious ignorance.

But despite the virus of cowardice festering throughout the bureau, my partner’s lasting air of calm resignation reminded me that no one could truly blame those affected by it.

The power that the Yiga organization possessed over the town was beyond compare. Those on City Council were nothing more than their puppets, and likewise were the police. Fear and massacre were the whips they raised to drive us all into submission and to punish any and all who had the will remaining to fight. But the one group who’d dared to challenge their might, who’d stood tall ever in the face of their tyranny, had been my godmother’s company. Thanks to her intelligent mind and righteous heart, the people had been given access to technology that would keep them safe, to a degree, from crime, and little by little, the company had developed into a beacon of hope for the town and its inhabitants. Until now.

Now, that hope had been snuffed out, like it had never been anything more than a week and vulnerable candle flame, flickering faint against the darkness of obscurity, in the first place.

Later that evening, when my gaze happened upon the knife block sitting on my kitchen counter at home, my steps halted. The scars on my arms left over from my last couple of years in secondary school—the period in my life following the yet unexplained events that had taken away the one I’d cherished most—had only just begun to fade. Even so...

I shook my head, turning my back to the kitchen. But then, I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder once more. I recalled the rush of adrenaline that took hold each time my skin was breached by icy steel. It was true that letting my emotions control me would get me nowhere, but maybe...maybe just this once, I could at least do something to assuage them.

Then the image of the gaping, dark red hole running straight through Auntie Impa’s neck flashed before my eyes. I covered my mouth, quickly swallowing the bile rising up from the bottom of my throat. The idea slipped my mind that very instant.

It wasn’t until the following day’s investigation that a substantial piece of the puzzle finally revealed itself to me.

For it to have taken a whole two days to find wasn’t all that unbelievable. Even I had to admit, although my stepsister was a spineless, tattling suck-up who’d always received far more credit and affection than she was worth, no one could have imagined her ever turning criminal.

Even so, I was certain that what I discovered there in her bedroom went against the expectations of all. Upon my entering, a faint glow of teal and tangerine peaking through the floorboards caught my eye. I went to lift the plank doing such poor work of hiding the thing from sight. There it was, unscratched and in perfect working condition, its screen lighting up and displaying that dastardly riddle I’d been confronted with several days prior and still didn’t know the answer to.

Although the mystery of where it had disappeared to had been solved, its reason for being here of all places was still unclear. Why would Paya have gone to such lengths just to get her hands on the Slate? It was difficult to imagine there being any information contained therein that she would want so direly to be kept secret from the world. She and her grandmother had been close since before I’d become a part of their family as a six-year-old.

Then something hard and marble-sized went flying across the floor when struck by the pointed toe of my shoe. I gave chase, soon realizing what it was when it slowed to a halt just before the south-facing wall of the room:

A bullet.

I didn’t even need to perform a striation comparison; anyone could clearly see that it matched the one I’d pried out of my mother’s memorial shrine. Whatever blood might’ve been here at one point must have simply been wiped up, and she must have stolen Link’s revolver with whatever methods she’d used to steal the Slate. Without a doubt, this room was the true crime scene I’d sought after since day one of the investigation.

But even in the face of this victory, I could hear the voices of those who would oppose me ringing in my ears. “Paya’s the mastermind?” they jeered. “Isn’t that a bit far-fetched?” But at this point, this case had already pushed me far beyond the boundaries of my patience. I didn’t have a single damn left to give about how flawed my logic might or might not have been. All that mattered now was that I had a suspect, and so help me, if I was correct in my line of thinking as suggested by the evidence, this criminal would receive no mercy.

#my writing #fanfic #botw #zelink #botw zelink #zelink botw #link x zelda #zelda x link #botw link x zelda #botw zelda x link #zelink fanfic #zelink fic #zelink ff #zelda pov #detective au

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Chain-Reaction

Is it 5:30am? Yes.

Did I just smash out another part to the Mafia series that has accidentally been put in motion? Also yes.

So here’s part four and again, feel free to let me know what you think because it’s butt-fuck o’clock and tired bitch is going to bed now that she’s written way more than she intended to for the night/morning.

🥃 AO3 🥃

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

“Hey, (Name)! Open up!”

 .

You let out a deep breath as you opened your front door, giving Eijiro and Tamaki an unimpressed look while they stared at you in what looked to be confusion; though you were positive you had called Taishiro to tell him you weren’t going to work today and not to send them to walk you home.

Since it was a daily occurrence now, you didn’t want to worry them by simply not being there; so, it had made sense to you to call him and give them a heads up. Apparently, that had been a mistake seeing as though he sent them to your house instead.

“You’re alright?” Tamaki made the quiet observation as you stepped to the side, allowing them to enter your home; if they wanted to check on you so badly, the least you could do was check Eijiro’s hand and offer them a drink. Maybe some snacks.

“Yes, I’m fine. What did Taishiro tell you to make you think that I wasn’t fine?” You stared at Tamaki with an expression of vague concern on your features, worried for whatever words had left Taishiro’s mouth. All you had said to him was that you weren’t going in to work, nothing more and nothing less; it didn’t make any sense for them to assume something was wrong. You weren’t that much of a workaholic.

“He said you weren’t going to work” Eijiro gave a shrug of his shoulders, moving to sit down at your kitchen table when you pointed to it; already knowing what you wanted from him.

“That is what I told him…but that doesn’t explain why something has to be wrong with me” You walked up to Eijiro while Tamaki moved to turn on the kettle, already knowing where everything he needed would be; having visited a few times before for a relaxing cup of coffee.

“It isn’t like you to miss work, not from what we’ve seen.” You couldn’t help but utter a quiet hum of agreement as you unwrapped Eijiro’s hand, carefully inspecting the cut on his hand. Much to your surprise, the bandages had remained untouched and as a result, his cut looked fine; it would only need a little more ointment and a new bandage.

“I suppose that’s a good point…Eijiro, wait here. I’m gonna go get some more cream for you” You offered him a smile before making your way through your house, heading for the medical supplies that you kept in your bathroom and luckily for them, you had only just recently re-stocked your supplies.

“If you’re okay, why did you skip work today?!” Eijiro called out to you while you rummaged through the cabinet in your bathroom, obeying your instructions to remain seated in your kitchen if you were to go by the lack of footsteps trailing after you.

“Because I’m thinking things over, I guess…” You sighed as you walked back towards your kitchen, speaking loud enough for the both of them to hear you, not wanting to repeat yourself with such a topic; it was already hard enough to admit to yourself, but after yesterday’s encounter with Taishiro. Well, you found yourself thinking things over a little too much; you needed a break from work.

“Wait, so does that mean you’re gonna join us then!?” Your mouth dropped open as you stepped into the kitchen, Eijiro’s puppy-like look catching you off-guard while Tamaki continued to make the three of you drinks; pretending to mind his business.

“I…no, that isn’t what it means Eijiro. It means that I’m thinking about what I want to do with my life” You hesitated as you spoke, careful with how you worded your explanation so that they wouldn’t get the wrong idea; the last thing you needed was for them to give Taishiro the wrong impression. You didn’t know what you were going to do anymore, you had been considering the idea of joining them; but after yesterday, after nearly kissing the mafia boss, you weren’t sure about anything.

“Are you really okay, (Name)? You’re acting weird” Eijiro frowned at you while you applied the antibacterial ointment to his hand, refusing to meet his crimson gaze, well-aware that he could read you a little too well.

“I’m fine.” You offered a tight-lipped smile to back up your statement, eyes never leaving the hand that you were now wrapping up; careful not to lose your focus and wrap his hand up too tightly. It was hard to think straight with his non-stop questions, but telling him to be quiet would be both rude and suspicious. It was easier to let him ask his questions.

“Taishiro was worried after you called” Tamaki paused as he placed two cups on the table, looking into your eyes when you looked over at him; it was clear he didn’t believe you, yet he wasn’t the type to say it in so many words. Instead, he would press the issue in his own way until you caved.

“He gave us the entire day to be here. To take care of you if something was wrong.” He reached for his own drink as he explained the motivation behind their visit, filling you with a sickening kind of guilt; not that you had done anything wrong per se. You simply disliked the idea of worrying Taishiro, especially after calling him to let him know everything was fine and that you weren’t going in to work today.

“…How much of this is Taishiro going to hear?” The question had Tamaki and Eijiro looking at each other for a minute before their gaze finally settled back on you; a silent agreement having been made.

 .

“Only what he needs to. You’re our friend (Name), talk to us.”

 .

Eijiro’s words managed to bring a small smile to your face as you reached for the cup that Tamaki had prepared for you, the kindness in them something you still weren’t entirely used to from them. Of course, it was a silently known fact; they just hadn’t said it like that before and it warmed your heart to know that they felt that way.

“Taishiro and I nearly kissed yesterday by accident…and…I think, I think that I wanted it to happen” You kept your voice quiet as you spoke, watching them for their reactions while sipping at your drink; you weren’t expecting anything astonishing, but it felt like it was a serious thing to say. Especially to people that worked for the giant of a man. To his family.

“Okay, well. Wasn’t expecting that.” Eijiro laughed nervously as he spoke, rubbing at his neck with his good hand and shooting a look towards Tamaki that somehow looked even more surprised; the only thing you could think of in that moment was that you would hate to see a bad reaction from the two of them.

“You know what? This was a bad idea. Let’s go back to me being fine and you two being clueless” You put your cup down slowly, looking away from the two of them before they could see how sick you were starting to feel after actually admitting it aloud; instead, the nearby cupboard had your attention. Maybe you could distract them with some biscuits or something like that.

“No, it’s fine. We just weren’t expecting that! Right, Tamaki?” Eijiro spoke quickly, earning a quiet mumble of agreement from Tamaki while you searched through the cupboard for some kind of snack; anything would do at this point.

“It’s not fine.” You frowned as your hands went still, leaving you to stare blankly into the cupboard with no idea what you were actually searching for; snacks would be fine, of course, but your mind was quickly turning into a mess and you couldn’t concentrate long enough to find what you had been searching for.

“I barely know him…and I had no reason to get as close as I have to him, or to you guys! I’ve gotten myself involved with the fucking Mafia for fuck’s sake!” Your voice grew higher with each word spoken, the weight of the past few months finally beginning to settle in now that you’ve said your feelings aloud; it was scary and you felt like you had done something wrong.

 .

“(Name).”

 .

You turned slowly at the sound of Tamaki’s calm voice, tears filling your eyes while the two of them moved towards you slowly; helping you towards a chair before you collapsed from the mental attack you were currently experiencing.

“Take some deep breaths, everything is okay. It’s not as bad as you think it is” Eijiro smiled at you warmly, rubbing your arm as Tamaki reached for your cup; holding it out to you until you took it, allowing a deep breath to escape you at the same time. Accepting their help without question, needing the stability.

“Better?” You gave Tamaki a nod in response to his question, not trusting your words quite yet; it was easier to calm down when you didn’t have to speak yet and the warm drink was certainly helping to calm your nerves.

“Good. (Name), I think you’re overthinking this. You know us and you know our boss, whether you realise it or not.” Tamaki spoke quietly, taking a seat once more while Eijiro continued to stand by your side; rubbing your arm in a soothing manner.

“He’s right! Plus, there’s nothing wrong with getting involved with us. You aren’t doing anything illegal and you don’t know anything about what we do, boss has kept it that way on purpose” You nodded your head as Eijiro spoke, taking in the words they were saying silently; thankful that they were actively doing their best to help you when you needed it most.

“Taishiro doesn’t know, right? We’ll keep it that was as long as you need us to. This can stay between us and if you feel like it’s the right thing for you, you can join us. If not, we’ll continue walking you home from your shifts at the hospital” You inhaled deeply as Tamaki laid out your options, it didn’t matter that you already knew the possibilities; it was nice hearing them again. It helped you focus and made it that much easier to organise your thoughts.

“…Thank you, both of you” You smiled as you spoke, laughing quietly at your overreaction to the situation; it seemed like such a silly thing to get worked up over now that you were calm again.

“Don’t worry about it! But hey, what’re you gonna choose?”

 .

“Ah, well…I suppose I’ll just have to…”

#fatgum #taishiro toyomitsu #fatgum x reader #taishiro x reader #toyomitsu x reader #bnha x reader #reader x fatgum #reader x taishiro #reader x toyomitsu #mafia au #mafia!fatgum #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #scenario #sfw #requests #cheeky kitsune #fluff #fluffy

[caffeinatedbraincell]

I’m back on my bullshit with more TOG fluff, have fun :)

Read on AO3

Joe stumbled into the kitchen, soaking wet and wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He looked around frantically before making a beeline toward the countertop. He lunged for the notebook lying there.

Behind him, Nicky yelped. “Yusuf!”

Joe turned around to find his husband carrying a package of flour in his arms, which he’d apparently been retrieving from the pantry while Joe barged into his workspace.

“Hmm?” Joe said distractedly, already starting to feel the lines slipping. Damnit, why did the perfect words for his poems always only occur to him in the shower? Meter, alliteration, emotion… he’d had it all at the tip of his tongue moments ago. He just needed to write it down before he-

“Hayati, you better have a good reason for standing dripping wet and half-naked in my kitchen. There’s soapy water everywhere! You’ve made such a mess, Joe, and I just mopped…”

Nicky’s lamentations continued, and Joe tried desperately to listen while mentally reciting what was left of the lines he’d composed in the shower.

“Joe?” Nicky’s fingers snapped impatiently in front of his face. “Are you even listening to me?”

The last vestiges of his beautifully crafted words evaporated from his brain, and Joe sighed, shoulders slumping forward. “I’m sorry, Nicky. I’ll clean it up.”

He turned to grab a spare dish towel from the cabinet, shivering slightly as a wayward breeze hit his damp skin. Before he could take two steps, Joe felt a gentle hand around his wrist.

Nicky maneuvered the flour package onto the table and leveled him with a mortifyingly discerning look. “What happened, love?”

Joe remained silent, unsure of how to go about explaining the absurdity of his current presence in the kitchen. The whole endeavor seemed rather stupid in retrospect. And it wasn’t like he had a line or two of breathtaking poetry to show for it, either.

Nicky’s eyes widened a little at his hesitation. “Are you alright, Joe? Are you hurt?” He ran his hands fretfully up and down Joe’s arms and chest, feeling for traces of an injury. Joe’s eyes snapped up guiltily, and he took hold of Nicky’s wrists and brought them to his lips.

“I am alright, amore. I mean it. Not at all hurt. Please do not worry.”

“You’re trembling. Go dry off and wear something warm, I’ll take care of the floor. Then you can tell me what’s going on.”

Minutes later, Joe emerged from their room in one of Nicky’s large, fleece-lined hoodies. He found Nicky in the kitchen, wringing out a towel into the sink. As soon as he saw Joe, Nicky walked over and pressed a warm mug of hot cocoa into his hands.

“Let’s sit on the couch?”

Joe nodded, following his husband to the living room and curling up next to him on the cushions. A small blaze was starting to catch in the fireplace. Outside, rain poured with a vengeance. Nicky had closed the window but left the curtains open. Joe smiled to himself. He had never met anyone who loved the rain as much as his Nicoló.

“Drink, hayati. We can’t have you catching a cold. See, I even added those tiny marshmallows you like.”

Joe took a large sip from the cup, sighing softly as the chocolate-covered notes of nutmeg and cinnamon floated over his tongue. He nuzzled closer to Nicky, feeling a little overcome with warmth and love.

Nicky wrapped his arms around Joe and pulled him closer. “So, are you going to tell me what prompted you to run out here mid-shower in the cold of winter?”

“I thought of the right words,” Joe mumbled into Nicky’s holiday-green jumper.

“Hmm?”

“For a poem I was writing. I’ve been struggling for days with a particular section and it suddenly came to me while showering. I wanted to write it down before I forgot.”

A comfortable silence blanketed them for several minutes. Joe took another sip of his drink, savoring it gratefully.

“You didn’t, though.”

“What?” Joe asked.

“You didn’t write anything down. You came into the kitchen, but you never even opened your notebook.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot the words. They never stay for long.”

“Was it because I yelled at you?”

“No! No, amore, that was well-deserved. And you didn’t yell at me, you just…emphatically expressed your displeasure at having to mop again. Which is fair, honestly.”

Nicky chuckled, and Joe felt his heart fill with warmth all over again. He set the empty cocoa mug aside and tenderly pressed his lips to Nicky’s.

The next morning, Joe found a whole set of brand-new children’s bath crayons in the shower, stacked neatly next to their soaps and shampoos.

___

The crayons turned out to be a life-changing convenience. This became clear just three weeks after they arrived, when Joe found himself in a position to send a completed manuscript of his current poetry book to his publisher ahead of the deadline.

“This has literally never happened before,” he told Nicky in awe. “I’m always late, if anything. You are a genius, my love, thank you so much for the pre-Christmas present.”

Nicky all but preened. “Had you told me earlier, I would have gotten the crayons for you ages ago.”

“Ah,” Joe replied a little bashfully, “I didn’t actually know such a thing existed until you got them.”

It was when Joe returned from a brief meeting with his publisher the following day that he and Nicky had their first actual fight in several months. It started, like most of their fights, with empty stomachs and a grocery trip oversight.

“Joe, there’s no fresh garlic in this bag!”

“There was none at the store. Use the minced garlic in the fridge.”

“What?!”

Joe rolled his eyes. “It’s the same thing, Nicky. Better, in fact, since it’s saving you the trouble of having to chop it yourself.”

“Have you ever heard of making roasted garlic cloves using minced garlic?”

“I have not,” Joe conceded. “We should make something else.”

Nicky knew he was being impractical. Obviously, there was nothing Joe could have done if they were out of stock at the store. But Nicky had been planning this dish for days, and had already promised Nile he would send her some as part of his ongoing campaign to refute her claim that “any form of garlic except garlic bread is gross.”

There was no way Joe could have known about that, either, but Nicky was in no mood to admit any such thing.

“Joe, you had one job! I gave you a grocery list!”

Joe turned from where he was stocking the refrigerator, brow furrowed. “I don’t know what exactly you expect me to do about the store being out of garlic.”

“I don’t know, maybe check another store? Was that the only grocery store in this city?”

“Nicky, I think you should go to your room.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just…you’re hungry. And you’re clearly not prepared to cook without fresh garlic. So let me do the cooking, and you, uh, do something else. Outside of the kitchen.”

“Are you kicking me out of my kitchen?”

“Our kitchen, madre de dio, Nicky! I’m trying to help you!”

“Maybe you could help me by actually getting the stuff I asked you to get from the store!”

“You know what, if you need whole garlic so urgently, get it yourself. It’s dark and below freezing outside. There is no way I’m wandering from store to store at this hour to fulfill this baseless whim of yours.”

That, Nicky knew, was a completely justified response to his unreasonable anger. But it hurt nevertheless.

“Fine,” he whispered, grabbing his coat and storming out the front door before Joe could see the tears prickling in his eyes.

Joe stared at the door, astonished. Part of him wanted desperately to follow Nicky outside. Of course he could check a couple more stores. If Nicky genuinely wished for something, Joe would go to the ends of the Earth, scour Heaven and Hell, to get it for him. No amount of ego was worth knowing his beloved was out there, hungry and alone, in the frigid wind.

But Joe was also well aware that he wasn’t at fault here. And Nicky, his Nicky, rarely reacted like this to their disagreements; perhaps he just needed some time for himself. It wouldn’t be right for Joe to impose his company when his husband clearly didn’t want it.

Joe sighed in frustration. A hot shower would clear his head, he hoped, heading for their bedroom.

Twenty minutes after he had stormed out, Nicky was coming around to the realization that this had been a profoundly stupid idea. Moments after leaving the house, he had realized that he’d left the car keys behind. Foolishly, he’d boarded a bus for downtown, too irked to return home. Now, with the bus routes closed for the night and taxis staying off the road as snow clouds threatened the city, Nicky quietly admitted to himself that he was stranded.

The first weak snowflakes began to fall. Then the wind picked up, blowing several icy droplets into his face. Nicky shivered. Fuck this, he thought, pulling out his phone. His pride wasn’t worth causing Joe to worry, and it definitely wasn’t worth getting sick from the cold and creating loads of extra work for his husband. He was going to call Joe, apologize profusely, and beg him to come pick him up.

At their home, Joe let the steaming water soak through to his tired bones as he scrawled passionately on the shower walls. He was a little hurt and, if he was being honest, more than a little worried. But for once Nicky wasn’t here for him to talk to, so he threw his words at the wall in brightly colored crayon instead.

He almost didn’t hear his cell phone ring. Contorting his upper body out of the shower, he wiped his hands on his towel and reached around for the phone in his pants’ pocket. The called ID flashed his husband’s name. Joe picked up without hesitation.

“Hello?”

“Joe, I fucked up. I’m s- so sorry. I should never- never have spoken to you like that, h- hayati. Please- please forgive me.”

Over the line, Joe could hear Nicky’s teeth chattering as he struggled to get the words out. Joe shut the water off and clambered out of the shower.

“Nicky, what happened? Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m f- fine. It’s just cold.”

“Come home. Please.”

“Yeah, that’s- that’s the problem. I took the bus here. The c- car keys…”

Joe had put the phone on speaker and was already getting dressed. He shouldered into a coat and seized a large throw from their bed, striding into the living room.

“I’m coming. Where are you?”

“Uh, Mira Mesa Transit Station. S- sorry, kind of far.”

“Nowhere in the universe is too far.”

“Joe-”

“Just sit tight, I’m on my way.”

Joe drove like a madman. Luckily, no one else was insane enough to be out in this imminent blizzard, so at least the roads were clear. In just under ten minutes, he reached the station.

A figure sat huddled under the overhang. Joe barely managed to stop the car before jumping out.

“Nicoló!”

Nicky struggled to his feet. “Joe, grazie a dio-”

“Shhh, amore mio, I’ve got you,” Joe soothed, pulling a shivering Nicky towards the car and bundling him into the passenger’s seat. Once he'd climbed in himself, Joe turned up the heater and divested Nicky of his too-thin, snow-soaked windbreaker. “Wear this,” he coaxed, whipping his own dry jacket off and wrapping it around Nicky’s shoulders.

“No, hayati-”

“Shh, love, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Joe wrapped the throw over the jacket, dusting the snow from Nicky's collar and tucking the blanket in. The whole way back, he drove with one hand on the wheel, intertwining the other with Nicky’s and rubbing his knuckles to warm him up.

“Shower,” Joe decided as soon as they stepped into their home. “You’re so cold, my heart. Go stand under warm water until you can feel your toes and fingers again. I’m going to make us some hot soup, okay?” Joe leaned forward and kissed Nicky’s nose gently.

Nicky nodded, too cold and tired to insist on helping. He had an inkling sense that Joe might still be irritated with him, after all. It would not be undeserved.

He made his way to their bedroom, draping Joe’s jacket over a bedpost and discarding his own clothes as he stepped into shower. Exhaling deeply, he turned his back to the stream of hot water- and froze.

A red bath crayon lay fallen on the floor, clearly left behind in haste. Joe must have been showering when I called, Nicky thought with a pang of guilt. But what had caught his attention was the shower wall in front of him. There, written in his beloved husband’s flowy cursive, was a poem.

If I could only read your heart When your lips cannot translate I wouldn’t let it break, my love Yet if it does Take mine An eternity alone I’ll wait.

The warm water poured down Nicky’s back, relaxing his aching muscles even as tears sprung into his eyes at Joe’s tender, longing words. Nicky stared and stared until the steam blurred the writing beyond perception.

A knock at the bathroom door snapped him out of his reverie.

“Nicky? Are you alright? Almost done?”

Nicky cleared his throat. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

He shut off the water and dried off. He found the bedroom empty, and slipped into the pajamas and fluffy sweatshirt that Joe must have laid out for him earlier. Dry and warm and very cozy, Nicky felt his eyes well up again at the care Joe put into something as minor as picking out some clothes.

Even during their worst fights, Nicky never doubted their love for each other; their hearts had been one far too long for any such lingering uncertainties. But it never ceased to amaze him how quickly Joe forgave. How despite taking Nicky’s hurtful words to heart, Joe went above and beyond to make sure he didn’t suffer.

He took a deep breath to regain his composure, and walked out. But the moment he entered the kitchen, the fragrance of creamy red pepper tomato bisque reached his nose, and he very nearly broke down in tears again. His favorite soup. It was a recipe he and Joe had perfected together through the years. Watching Joe quietly ladle it into two bowls, Nicky felt something clench in his chest.

“Hayati.”

Joe spun around. “Nicky! Are you feeling better, my heart?”

“I am.”

“Oh, good. Are you, uh…” Joe’s eyes flickered to the floor. “Are you still angry with me about the garlic thing?”

Nicky crossed the distance between them in two strides and threw himself into his husband’s arms. Joe stumbled back, a little startled, but quickly pulled Nicky close and buried his face in Nicky’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Nicky.”

“No. No, Yusuf, please. You did nothing wrong. It is I who should beg your forgiveness, having treated you as I did. You've shown me nothing but kindness, and I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

Joe shook his head in protest, nuzzling his nose into Nicky’s neck.

“I saw what you wrote in the shower,” he continued. Joe stilled in his arms. “I- I don’t know if you meant for me to see, but…”

“I forgot to erase it. But everything I write is for you, Nicolò. It’s yours.”

“It was beautiful. Beautiful, and heartbreaking. Forgive me, my all. Forgive me for raising my voice at you, for making you feel alone. Forgive me for walking away insteading of talking to you. And forgive me for dragging you out into that storm at this hour to come searching for me, it was beyond cruel to make you drive so far-”

Joe pulled back, eyes round with tears, and gently pressed his palm to Nicky’s lips.

“Stop it. Please. Don’t apologize for calling me when you needed me. Where would I rather be than at your side? I meant it, earlier. Nowhere in the universe is too far.”

Nicky held Joe’s hand to his lips and kissed his palm. A tear slipped down Joe’s cheek as he swallowed a sob. Nicky wrapped a hand behind his neck and rubbed soothing circles into the tense muscles there. After a few minutes, Joe's breathing evened out, and he lifted his eyes to gaze at Nicky with unguarded adoration. It would be so easy to just let this go, Nicky thought. But the knowledge that he had hurt Joe stood like a wall of glass between them, and Nicky felt it would drive him mad.

“Joe, I- I need to hear you say it. If you forgive me, that is. I don’t know, tonight has just been a lot. Please, hayati, I-”

“You are forgiven. You are always forgiven.”

Nicky exhaled, feeling the glass wall shatter. He kissed Joe’s temple softly. “Thank you, my love.”

Joe tilted his head slowly, dragging his lips up Nicky’s jaw until he could capture his mouth in a melting kiss. Nicky responded with ardent devotion, backing Joe up against the refrigerator and holding him there as they kissed again and again. It was only when he grew light-headed from lack of oxygen that Nicky pulled back. Still, Joe whimpered at the loss of warmth, reaching out for his husband.

“Nicky…”

“Joe, you have no idea how much I want to stand here kissing you all night. But you’ve prepared this wonderful dinner. I’d hate for it to get cold.”

Joe laughed, a joyous thing that swept Nicky off his feet just like it had the very first time he'd heard it.

“Alright, let’s eat. But after dinner we’ll cuddle on the couch under the heated blanket and I’ll hold you to your promise.”

Nicky smiled fondly, unable to help leaning in and placing one more kiss at the corner of his beloved’s lips. “Please do.”

#the old guard #joe x nicky #kaysanova #fluff #fanfiction #tog fanfic #kavi writes #I love feedback feel free to drop a note! #hurt/comfort without the hurt #so yeah just comfort mostly #hot chocolate #comfort food #blankets #yes this is how I'm handling the sudden transition to cold weather #author: is a grown ass adult #also author: makes *heart eyes* at bath crayons #all my ideas happen in the shower what can I do

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

Don’t know if you’re taking requests but if so could I ask for a scenario or hc’s with Chrollo and a cat woman like s/o ?? ✨

So me and Chrollo? Got it. 😂😂

"What is this?" the soft voice of your boyfriend rumbled against your neck. At first, you didn't really know what he was talking about. You'd thought he'd meant something on your breast since his hand was up your (his) shirt cupping the soft mound. It was then you felt the fur of Maria, your tiny bombay, brush against your skin lightly, a gentle purr resonating from her throat. Her black head popped up over Chrollo's arm, green eyes shining back at you.

"Oh, hi baby~" you giggled, moving to pick her up with one of your hands. She mewled in surprise before beginning to struggle before you set her in between the two of you.

"Excuse me, might I ask who this is?" Chrollo repeated himself. You'd nearly forgotten to tell him you'd adopted the little thing today. You'd found her in the animal care home you worked at, immediately finding her to be the cutest thing you'd ever seen. You paid full price for her and then some and brought her home a few hours before Chrollo came over.

"This is Maria, I adopted her today. She just came in and I couldn't help myself." you replied while petting her neck carefully. She lifted her head and purred even louder, happy to have the attention. Chrollo's hand left your breast to take Maria in it. He moved her back down into the floor before pulling you closer and placing his warm hand back onto your boob.

"Why'd you do that?" you scoffed at him. His grey eyes met yours.

"It'll only get in the way of my affections. She can wait a moment." he said before nuzzling back into your neck. You rolled your eyes before pushing yourself up off the bed. Chrollo didn't try to pull you back down again, simply letting his hand fall from your shirt.

"Where are you going?" he remained in the same spot on his side, looking up at you with brows furrowed.

"I'm hungry, you coming with?" you didn't wait for his answer before leaving the room. Chrollo took a few moments to himself before getting up to follow you.

The kitchen was a mess and you were sort of embarrassed to have him over before you cleaned, but after being together for over a year he didn't pay much mind to it. While you cleaned some of the dishes piling in the sink, Chrollo leaned against the small island in wait.

"What do you want for dinner?" you asked with your back turned to him, setting the dishes in the dishrack after drying them off with a towel. He didn't respond for a good few seconds so you turned to see if he was still even there. When you looked, he was staring at his feet. You turned your attention downward to see Maria again, rubbing herself on his ankles.

"Is she always this persistent?"

"She likes you, plus it's not like I'm any different."

"I don't recall you rubbing your head on my ankles at any point in our relationship."

"Should I start doing that?" you joked and finished up the dishes while drying off your hands.

"No thank you." he didn't even chuckle, his attention still on Maria. You sighed, taking some plates from the cabinet and setting them into the island.

"You still haven't answered me, what do you want for dinner?" you tried again, reaching down to pick up Maria and set her on your shoulder. She stayed there for a few seconds before mewling at the new great height. Chrollo came up behind you, taking her off your shoulder and placing her in the ground so she'd stay quiet. His hands rested on your waist and his chin placed itself on your shoulder just where Maria had been.

"We can just do takeout if you want to, so you don't have to cook."

"You just want all of my attention tonight don't you?" you teased, turning and kissing him on the cheek. Chrollo hummed a response to, letting his lids fall closed. Another sigh left your lips as your hands rested on his forearms.

"Fine," you started, placing your phone on the counter, "what do you want?" mewling sounded from below you once again. Maria was hungry too.

"Will you put food in her bowl? It's next to the fridge just put like a cup in there."

"Can she eat all of that?"

"Not at once, and she won't." you finished up your own order before placing his of some beef lo mein he always got. You didn't even know why you asked, he ordered the same thing every time. Nonetheless you ordered it and then let the app notify you when it would arrive. You turned yourself around to face Chrollo, his hands still on your waist. You mouthed the words 'feed her' once again before Chrollo rolled his eyes, bending down to pour a cup of cat food into Maria's bowl. She cuddled up to his hand while he finished up, purring happily. You smiled.

"She really really likes you."

"Can she eat hard food yet?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?" you laughed, moving him to the side so you could kneel down to pet her. She didn't mind you, simply eating her food slowly. Every now and then she'd glance up at you and then continue eating. Her little face was so cute you could just squish her.

Chrollo eventually walked away, tired of watching Maria eat, and onto the couch, sitting and opening one of his many books off the shelf next to him. You let out a breath, standing to follow him. Plopping down next to him you set your head in his shoulder and turned on the tablet on the coffee table. You'd gotten good at the few games Chrollo let you download off of his tablet and you'd noticed he'd actually tried to beat you a few times at some of them. This made you chuckle to yourself before starting the game again.

After about an hour of playing on the tablet and cuddling up to Chrollo, a knock sounded at your door. At the same time, your phone bleeped, a message popping up saying you takeout had made it. Chrollo stood before you could even set the tablet down and strolled for the door. When he opened it, a man stood there, a customer service smile plastered onto his face. Once his eyes fell onto Chrollo though he seemed slightly put off.

"Order for y/n?" he questioned, voice trying to sound stable. Chrollo wasn't even trying to be intimidating, but you guessed that's why he preferred to answer the door to you answering it. He didn't pay much mind to the man's cowardice though, handing him a 5 dollar bill.

"Yes, that's us." he said gently, taking the bag from the man before signing a few things and then shutting the door. Chrollo sat back down at the couch with you, ready to eat. You helped set things up and grabbed the plates off of the island. You set them down with some forks and piled food into your plate. Chrollo simply ate his lo mein and read, holding the box out to you every now and then since he knew you'd take some whether he offered or not. Gladly, you reciprocated, attempting to share your own since you felt bad for taking his food.

"I appreciate the offer, but no thank you." polite as ever, he declined. Hey, more for you. Maria continued to beg at your feet so you took a small piece of beef from Chrollo's lo mein and set it on the floor for her. She greedily chowed down on the meat, nearly choking herself.

"Jeez be careful honey~" you laughed a little, setting your plate down to pick her up and set her in your lap. Normally you'd never let your pet sit with you during dinner but you'd rather make sure Maria didn't choke to death on some food.

Chrollo didn't look up from his book while he continued eating and you switched something in the tv in the meantime. While you watched, you noticed him glancing ho to see what was happening before quickly turning back to his reading. It still astonished you how he could read with so much noise going on. You could barely think normally without it being completely silent. Chrollo ended up setting his lo mein down and closing the book after a few minutes.

"I'm quite tired, would you mind putting this in the fridge for me when you finish? Unless you want the rest." he closed the container and set it next to you. You nodded to him, still chewing.

"Yeah I got it babe." you finally replied, setting it next to all the other stuff. Chrollo kissed you goodnight and left you be, tiredly walking back down the hallway to your shared bedroom. Maria meowed again, hopping off your lap and following behind him. You heard the door shut though meaning she wouldn't be able to get in. Instantly she started wailing at him. You stood up, taking everything and placing it back into the bag and making way for the kitchen again. You'd have to move some stuff around in order to place the bag in the fridge without crowding it.

Sighing, you sat in the floor, taking stuff out and setting it to the side before finally making room for your takeout food. It took a while considering your fridge was full of random items you may or may not have needed, or may or may not have been expired. You checked the dates on some of them and threw out things that couldn't be eaten anymore. You placed everything back into the correct places and the closed the door, struggling to stand up for a few minutes as your legs had gone numb from sitting so long. It was then you realized Maria had stopped begging Chrollo to let her in. Concerned, you took a chance to peek down the hallway. She wasn't in front of the door. You didn't think Chrollo would hurt her, but panic had pumped it's way into your feet, padding down the hallway to the door. Quietly you creaked it open. You found Chrollo on his back, eyes closed and legs covered by the blanket.

Maria curled up on his chest, rising and falling with his steady breathing, making you smile.

#chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #cute #hxh #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter 2011 #fluff #cats #fan fiction #my work #my writing

[ziraley-j-crow]

‘The Way You Look Tonight’ - Crowley x Aziraphale

Author’s Note: Hello! I haven’t written anything in a long time, but after being in the Good Omens fandom for nearly 4 months, I’ve finally caved.

This is simply a one-shot/short story. This is my first time writing Crowley and Aziraphale, so let’s see how that goes, shall we?

Also, I know we don’t exactly get to see Crowley’s lounge in the show, so using the description from the book, I try to conjure up my own vision of his lounge as if it was set in 2019.

Below is a link to the song that inspired me to write this. I can’t help but think of them dancing together to this. Please give it a listen!

https://youtu.be/gsALgi5yM_A 

  London

2 months after Armageddon.

~

It was always The Ritz. 

They celebrated here after stopping Armageddon a couple of months ago. It wasn’t so hard to tempt Aziraphale to afternoon tea there in between. It was almost routine.

They’d always walk out together and get into Crowley’s car. Crowley would always remember to hold open the passenger door for Aziraphale before getting in himself. When Aziraphale asked him why he did that, Crowley would just shrug him off or change the subject. 

Then, Crowley would drive Aziraphale back to his bookshop, stopping outside and cutting out the ignition. They would sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, before Crowley would say something along the lines of:

“Well, that hit the spot. Same time next week?” 

And Aziraphale would nod and smile.

“Sounds absolutely wonderful. I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” 

He’d get out of the Bentley, walk through the old doors of the shop, and turn to give one last small wave to Crowley before closing the doors softly. Crowley -  usually needing five minutes to collect himself - would wipe the fog from the driver’s window where he was staring out from before anyone could see how infatuated he was.

It had been like this for the last 2 months.

This evening was going to be different, though. It had to be.

***

As always, they walked out together, the sunset casting a calm glow through the quiet, Sunday evening streets. 

“Splendid as always!” said Aziraphale blissfully, as they walked to Crowley’s car. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed,” Crowley said, as they put on their belts. “Where do you want to go now?” He turned on the car, music playing from the radio. He’d never usually ask that.

“I assume to the bookshop, but I suspect you have another place in mind?” Aziraphale inquired, watching Crowley as he turned down the music. Crowley raised his eyebrows, and began to drive. 

“I was thinking... We could go back to my place? I have some old bottle of wine lying around, if you want to try. Leroy Rich, or something...” he trailed off. But he knew the name off by heart, of course. It was-

“Domaine Leroy Richebourg Grand Cru? Oh, I’ve heard that is a fantastic wine! You know, there are only 700 bottles made each year. How could you possibly have got your hands on that?” Aziraphale asked, sounding quite impressed. 

“Wasn’t too difficult,” He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Just knew some people, is all.” he replied, trying to sound suave. 

“Well, I suppose I will take you up on your offer, Crowley. I believe I have to see this wine for myself.” admit Aziraphale, and Crowley shot him a quick glance, the angel not noticing. He nearly hit the curb.

“R-Really? Great! It will be a relaxing evening then. Cool.” he tried to compose himself, and ever so slightly applied more pressure to the accelerator pedal.

***

“You can sit anywhere,” Crowley gestured to the living room of his flat. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

Crowley had made himself a nice and modern home. Dark interior, not a spec of dust on any surface. It was as if he had just bought the place, furnished and spanking new. The living room was spacious, a dim lighting causing shadows to seep into the room. A long white leather sofa faced a wide flat screen TV, which was perched up on the wall, a pristine electric fireplace underneath it. 

“Thank you. I must say, you have this place kept immaculate, Crowley!” stated Aziraphale, removing his coat.

“Not much a miracle can’t do, angel!” Crowley said. “I’ll get the wine. Here, give me your coat, I’ll put it away.” Crowley vanished to the kitchen, leaving Aziraphale to have a nose around the room. His attention was drawn to a rather tall display cabinet. It was black, with glass doors, so you could see what it entailed. There were some small bronze statues, collectibles perhaps. Some CD’s lined up together, music Aziraphale hadn’t quite heard of.

“Oh, that looks familiar...” he muttered to himself, inspecting a smooth, round cup, looking like it were made from brown clay.

“That cup is from Italy. 41 AD, if I’m not wrong.” he said, inspecting another artifact. 

“That cockade is from Paris, in 1793. I wore that..” he trailed off when he realized something.

In the cabinet were tokens that Crowley had taken from every moment in history they were together. There was the coin Crowley used when they met William Shakespeare in 1601. Beside that was the tartan flask, lid and all from 1960.

There was something from every moment with them.

His attention was pulled to the sudden sound of music coming from a corner in the room. Surprised, he looked around, and sat by the window was what appeared to be a gramophone, but was neater and rather modern. An upbeat, foot-tapping song flowed softly from the speaker, unmistakably retro swing music. 

“Hm, that’s not very Crowley, is it?” Aziraphale thought, amused. Just then, Crowley had returned. Two wine glasses in one hand, bottle in the other. 

“Ah, Crowley. I was just admiring your gramophone! Quite a lovely thing.” Aziraphale said, walking over to the couch, and sitting himself down. 

“Yes, handy little thing. Wine?” Crowley handed a glass to Aziraphale, who took it from him. He poured them both a drink, settling down onto the couch too.

“This wine is simply divine! Mind if I look for the date?” Aziraphale asked Crowley, who nearly choked on his drink.

“Date?” Crowley quickly trying to compose himself, clearing his throat. Aziraphale looked puzzled.

“Yes, on the bottle of wine?” asked Aziraphale, not picking up on the reason for Crowley’s behavior. Certainly not noticing how Crowley’s once pale complexion, had now turned rather flush.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Here.” Crowley handed Aziraphale the bottle. The music was still playing quietly in the background, setting a relaxed mood to the apartment.

“Ah, 1940... I remember that year like it was yesterday.” said Aziraphale wistfully. He concentrated on the bottle for a moment. “Do you remember that time? When you saved those books for me?” he asked Crowley, perhaps nostalgic. 

Of course Crowley remembered that moment. The memory played out in his mind as clear as anything. Aziraphale needed help, so he was there. He’d lost the books, what would be easier than a *snap* and a little miracle? How much he wanted to say “Oh, don’t worry, angel, I’ve got you covered!” when Aziraphale was obviously troubled. Maybe he could have lingered for a second longer when handing the books back to him. Maybe “Lift home?” could have meant something more?

It was iconic. Like ‘Casablanca’.

“Yeah, I remember.” He paused for a moment. “Messy night.” He took another drink.

“Indeed it was. But I’m still glad you saved those books. I’ve cherished them ever since that night.” said Aziraphale fondly, having a drink too. 

Neither of them shared a word between them, the music filling in the blanks. Glen Miller’s ‘In The Mood’ played smoothly from the gramophone. The sun was well gone by now, and the room was set with an orange aura. The glow softened both of their features, making them look relaxed. 

“I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up, really.” Aziraphale confessed, sinking into the sofa. He looked at Crowley, with genuine gratitude.

“I dunno, you could have pulled an MacGyver on them?” he said, humor in his tone.

“Um, who is MacGyver? One of yours?” asked Aziraphale, confused. Crowley was astonished.

“Who is MacGyver?!” 

***

The wine bottle was empty after less than an hour, and the lounge was full of laughter from Crowley and Aziraphale. The two were sharing stories of deeds they had done over the years. Well, the stupidest ones. 

“Wait, so you deliberately stuck the £2 coin to the ground? As one of your schemes? Why?” Aziraphale was quite entertained by Crowley’s story. 

“Yes, because who doesn’t see a £2 coin and want it for themselves?” Crowley said shamelessly, finishing off his drink.

“But you tried to pick it up. You tempted yourself, Crowley.” said Aziraphale, feigning shock. “You could have...” The wine had gone to both of their heads by now. “Oh look, now I’ve forgotten my words!”

“Discorporated!” Crowley exclaimed, lifting his arms up for dramatic effect, nearly dropping his wine glass. “Oop, better put this down.” 

“Yes! Very much so! Not a nice place to be.” grumbled Aziraphale, a small pout forming on his lips. He stared into his wine glass, not much left now. Crowley’s tipsy mind remembered Aziraphale’s discorporation, and racked itself to distract him from that memory. 

“I suppose it’s not.. Sorry, angel.” he said, looking at Aziraphale, a tone of regret in his voice. Coincidentally, not even a second after saying that, another song had begun to play on the gramophone. Crowley knew just which song to ‘miracle’ onto the gramophone.

“Oh my goodness! I absolutely adore this song!” Aziraphale piped up, an almost child-like excitement filled him and his face was washed with a distant longing. Of course, the sight of this nearly made Crowley cry with pure adoration for the angel. But all he could do was sit, stare, and take in the beauty sat in front of him.

***

The song Crowley chose was “The Way You Look Tonight” by Fred Astaire. 

Why? Simply because one night after dropping Aziraphale home after their traditional rendezvous, Aziraphale had forgotten his reading glasses in the car. He likes to use them when reading the menus at The Ritz.

“You know, if you didn’t want the trouble of glasses when you read, you could just... Miracle them away.”

“Yes, but, well... I think they’re rather nifty!” 

On this particular evening, Crowley had driven well away from the bookshop before he actually noticed them on the passenger seat. The Bentley’s tires nearly produced flames from the sudden skidding halt, thanks to Crowley. He picked them up carefully.

“Holy shit, he forgot his glasses!” Crowley exclaimed, removing his own sunglasses to get a better look at the spectacles. They were delicate, small and round. 

Like the angel.

The hasty beeping of a car horn pulled Crowley away from his thoughts. With a scowl, he quickly swerved his car around, miraculously not hitting anything or anyone, and made his way back to the bookshop.

He pulled up outside the bookshop once more, noticing a light was on upstairs in the building. He needn’t worry about his sunglasses now. It was late, dark, and he doubt he’d run into anybody. Carefully, he put Aziraphale’s glasses into his coat pocket, and made his way over across the road. He knocked on the bookshop door, and waited for an answer. 

If you listened very carefully, you could hear the muffled sound of music coming from the bookshop. It was distant, but Crowley found himself being pulled to it. He followed the song, opening the door of the shop quietly. He closed the door behind him, scanning the room to bear his surroundings in the dark.

The song was clearer now. It was a swing song, the type that made you feel floaty when you listened to it. He noticed a warm light at the top of the stairs, presumably where Aziraphale was. He sauntered over quietly, so as to not frighten the angel.

“Uh, hey, Aziraphale, you forgot these...No. Hey, angel, these are yours, I think? No, that’s too obvious, of course you know.” Crowley was practicing what he would say when he gave Aziraphale back his glasses as he crept up the stairs. As he made his way up, Aziraphale came into view through the staircase, the music flooding the room. Crowley stayed low, observing. Listening.

Aziraphale was, as usual, organizing his books. But he looked.. Alluring.. Beautiful.. Captivating. He had removed his coat, which was likely to be hung up neatly somewhere. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, an almost daring look for the angel to pull off. His bow-tie was removed, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone. His brown vest was snug on his hips, and when he reached up to place a book on the shelf, a little bit of his tummy showed. He was quite relaxed, doing what he loves to do the most.

Internally, Crowley was screaming. His heart was beating in his ears right now, and he almost couldn’t hear the music that was describing his feelings for the angel. Aziraphale was singing contently to himself. Or so he thought.

“...yes you're lovely, with your smile so warm. And your cheeks so soft. There is nothing for me but to love you, just the way you look tonight.” Aziraphale sang softly, examining the couple of books in the crook of his arm. Crowley didn’t want to move. He wanted to savor this scene for eternity. But he knew he couldn’t stay and watch how the light made his figure glow, so angelic. How he sang so heartfelt and almost waltzed across the room to retrieve more books to stock on the shelves. How he put so much care into his skill, when he looked fondly at each book, perhaps a thoughtful memory springing into his mind each time. 

The song was coming to an end, and Crowley took that as his que to leave. He miracled Aziraphale’s glasses onto the table with the books, placed so that Aziraphale would see them in plain sight. He took one more loving look at the angel, taking him in as he took a deep breath, and then proceeded down the stairs quietly.

At his car, he looked up at the window where Aziraphale was working. He thought about him. How he felt about him. How he made him feel. 

The light suddenly switched off. 

“Must have found his glasses.” Crowley said to himself, and got into his car.

***

“Oh my goodness! I absolutely adore this song!” Aziraphale gasped. Crowley watched Aziraphale’s face light up with bliss, the song working it’s magic. 

“Some day, when I'm awfully low, and the world is cold...” Aziraphale sang, perhaps not as well as when Crowley first heard him, but Crowley found it quite endearing to see him so happy.

That’s when Crowley plucked up his courage.

He stood up from the sofa, as casual as he could - in this case he hoist himself up, his hands held out at either side of himself for balance - and made his way over to the gramophone. He turned up the music, not blasting, but just so that it felt like the music was wrapping you in a reassuring hug. Almost so that Fred Astaire himself was saying “You got this. Go get him, kid.”

Crowley turned around to see Aziraphale tapping his foot to the music, humming contently to himself. He walked over to him, stopping in front of him and put out both of his hands in front Aziraphale.

“...There is nothing for me but to love you, just the way you look tonight...”

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, confused. “Are you.. Do you want my glass?”

“No, Aziraphale. I... I want to take your hands... If that’s alright.” Crowley said, shyly. He wasn’t his usual confident and bold self right now. He was nervous. Aziraphale’s eyes opened a little wider, and Crowley looked away, thought about snatching his hand back and saying “I’m sorry, forget I did that.”

“Yes... Yes, of course, Crowley.” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hands in his - soft and warm to touch, a gentle grasp - and Crowley felt electric shocks shooting up through his arms.

“..With each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fear apart, and that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart..” 

Crowley looks at Aziraphale, not believing the words he was hearing. Aziraphale was holding his hands. In Crowley’s flat. They were in Crowley’s flat holding hands.

“Okay... Can we... Can we try something?” Crowley asks, leading them away from the sofa, to the middle of the room. Aziraphale follows him.

Crowley was going to try and dance with Aziraphale. He’d seen lots of movies, he’d seen how they do it, the music was perfect. Except, he had never actually danced before. 

“Lovely...Never, ever change...”

They both stood together in silence, still holding hands. Aziraphale giggled sheepishly, his eyes trying to meet Crowley’s. Crowley had never been close to Aziraphale like this. His sunglasses had slid down his nose, so he could see Aziraphale’s stunning cornflower blue eyes, quite possibly the most beautiful  shade of blue he’d ever seen. The lighting of the room would give you the impression that they were glowing. It would be stupid of anyone to not be nearly intimidated by how striking they were.

He didn’t even notice Aziraphale was doing the same. With his sunglasses no longer shielding his eyes, Aziraphale could appreciate how Crowley’s eyes were the color of the finest whiskey money could buy, with the sunlight shining and rippling through it. He thought if he stared for much longer, he was sure he would melt. They were always covered, so he was savoring this moment for as long as he was allowed to.

“What were you planning on trying, dear?” Aziraphale asked, not breaking his gaze. Neither was Crowley.

“Hm?” Crowley asked softly. He wasn’t too sure if he heard Aziraphale actually say something. He didn’t want to move.

“...Keep that breathless charm... Won't you please arrange it?...'Cause I love you, just the way you look tonight...”

“You wanted to try something? What was it?” Aziraphale asked, batting his eyelashes. Crowley woke from his trance-like state.

“Oh, yes. I'd like to dance with you, if that’s alright?” Crowley asked, hoping he sounded somewhat like James Dean, but really sounded more like he was asking his date to dance at their high school prom. 

“Dance? Of course, that sounds really wonderful, Crowley. Do you mind me asking if know how to dance?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley shook his head, feeling rather foolish, come to think of it.

“Well, not to worry, we have already accomplished one step. We're already holding hands!” Aziraphale chuckled, easing the mood. They both looked down at their hands, cheeks almost burning. A sobering moment. Cliché, but their hands fit together. 

“I think have to... If you don’t mind?” Crowley began, taking his hands from Aziraphale. He quickly adjusted his sunglasses, and placed his hands gently on the angel’s hips. Aziraphale took a deep breath to himself, and nodded.

“Y-Yes, that seems to be right.” said Aziraphale, feeling his heart beat faster with every passing second. He could have nearly passed out from the overwhelming bliss. “And I think that I-I have to put my hands..” he gingerly placed his hands on Crowley’s shoulders. “Here?”

Crowley gulped, and nodded. “Yes, that’s.. That’s good.” 

“...Oh won't you please arrange it?..'Cause I love you, just the way you look tonight...Just the way you look tonight...”

The music blended effortlessly into another repeat. Perhaps another sneaky doing of Crowley. 

“We have to move, that much I do know.” Crowley said, earning a smile from Aziraphale.

“Well, yes. That is how one dances.” Aziraphale giggled.

“Oh really? I wouldn’t have known!” Crowley remarked, sarcastically, a charming smirk on his lips.

“Oh come now, Crowley. Don’t be like that, my dear! Just... Follow my lead.” Aziraphale began stepping from side to side, Crowley following suit.

“See? This doesn’t seem too bad, does it?” Aziraphale said, finding he was getting into the swing of things.

“...I will feel a glow just thinking of you...And the way you look tonight...”

“No, I guess not.” Crowley replied, his hands relaxed on Aziraphale’s hips. 

They swayed together with the music, familiarizing themselves with how the other moved and felt to touch. They stole a few quick glances at each other, nervousness made clear through their laughter.

The music helped them relax. There was something about that piano that made their steps feel lighter than air. There may very well have been no ground beneath them, their elated states were enough to keep them airborne. They could endure this dance for eternity. Nobody could take this bliss away from them.

“Crowley? Can I ask you something? And by all means, I don’t mean this to come off as impolite.” Aziraphale asked, softly.

“Sure, angel.” Crowley said, his brain casually rattling for whatever question Aziraphale could possibly ask him at this moment.

“If it’s alright with you, I would love to see your eyes again. Could I look at them while we dance?” Aziraphale asked, almost bashful at the question. Crowley raised his eyebrows. This wasn’t any of the thousands of questions he’d conjured in his mind. 

“Oh.. Yeah, sure.” Crowley reached up to remove the sunglasses, his eyes averting Aziraphale’s gaze. He put them into his pocket, and placed his hands back on Aziraphale. “There.” 

“Crowley, you can look at me. I.. I love your eyes. I always have.” confessed Aziraphale. Crowley looked into Aziraphale’s eyes, and he was sure he heard the angel gasp.

“They’re... They’re simply breathtaking, Crowley..” Aziraphale sighed. Crowley, not used to such words of affection about something he considered an imperfection, was now blushing furiously.

“They’re nothing, really. I mean, everyone’s got ‘em. Eyeballs, I mean..” Crowley was trying to take the attention away from himself. He noticed Aziraphale had stepped a little closer. Perhaps to get a closer look.

“No, really. They’re as warm as the first rays of a new day. They’re as beautiful and radiant as the freshest marigolds of the new season. They’re dangerously hypnotizing. But I am willing to get lost in them, if you’ll allow me to.”

Crowley couldn’t believe the words he was hearing, his eyes opening wider with astonishment. All he could do was smile. A smile that grew bigger as his mind repeated the words Aziraphale had just said. 

“...Oh but you're lovely, with your smile so warm...”

“You really think so?” Crowley asked, nearly nose to nose with the angel. Aziraphale nodded, adoringly. 

“Without a doubt.” Aziraphale smiled. Crowley found his focus being dragged to Aziraphale’s lips. He couldn’t help himself.

“What else do you think, angel?” Crowley asked, a slight change in his tone, shifting his focus back to Azirphale’s eyes.

“What else do I think?” Aziraphale repeated, Crowley nodding. But of course, Aziraphale understood. The feeling was obviously mutual. Just in case that wasn’t so obvious from the start.

“...There is nothing for me but to love you...Just the way you look tonight...”

“Well, your hair resembles the fiery autumn leaves, radiant in the warm, evening sun. Bold and striking to the naked eye, and.. If I may?” Aziraphale signaled with his hand, and Crowley nodded. Aziraphale slowly reached his hand up to Crowley’s hair, and took a sharp intake of breath, finally touching it.

“Delicate and feather soft to touch.” he sighed. “Light between my fingers like fresh blades of grass.” Aziraphale was now slowly brushing his fingers through Crowley’s hair. Crowley closed his eyes, a guttural moan erupting from him. The sensation of pleasure was almost overwhelming to him and he stepped closer to Aziraphale to feel more. His hands had snaked their way around the angel, pulling them closer. They were now flush against each other, neither one minding the lack of personal space.

“Go on...” Crowley’s voice was throaty, eyes on Aziraphale again. Aziraphale noticed Crowley’s eyes were more yellow than usual. They were fascinating. Aziraphale wasn’t startled or frightened. He knew what it meant.

“What else is there left to say about one so... Elegant... Radiant... Magnificent..” Aziraphale’s attention was tied between Crowley’s full yellow eyes, and his parted lips. Both equally tempting. 

Which is what happened. 

Time came to a halt when their lips first met. Their eyes closed upon contact, the urgency evident between them. Their lips soft, melting together, finally unifying them. Crowley pulled Aziraphale impossibly closer to him securely, breathing him in through his nose like he was fresh air. Aziraphale was gripping Crowley’s vest, almost clinging for dear life. 

“..Lovely never, never change... Keep that breathless charm...”  

Aziraphale’s hand found it’s way back to Crowley’s hair, soft and familiar, something Aziraphale swore he’d never get tired of. This made Crowley suddenly moan into the kiss, a sound that thrilled Aziraphale. A sound that made him grip Crowley’s hair just a tad to see what would happen. Crowley pulled away, stopping the kiss. Aziraphale’s eyes shot open in a panic, pulling his hands back to himself.

“O-Oh dear, Crowley, are you alright? I thought I was doing something right a-and-” Aziraphale stammered, his breathing a little rapid and cheek flushed.

Crowley’s eyes were still closed. “Angel..” Crowley’s voice was scratchy. “I think it’d be very wise of you to do that again..” He opened his eyes now, brilliantly gold, with full blown pupils peering at Aziraphale through half lidded eyes.

“Again?” Aziraphale repeated in a near whisper. Crowley nodded, stepping over to Aziraphale, who stared back in complete wonderment, bright blue eyes fusing with dazzling amber hues. 

“Again.” Crowley said softly, “And only if you want to, I mean-” Aziraphale didn’t know where the confidence came from, but just knowing he made Crowley feel this way, it gave him a sudden drive. He didn’t waste time, catching Crowley off-guard. 

“...With each word your tenderness grows... Tearing my fear apart..”

Their lips met again with a ravenous force, a flame ablaze they undeniably yearned to quench. Hungry hands roaming each other freely. Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s cheeks in his hands, kissing him deeply. Anything to have him closer. There were no prying eyes on them. Once more, Aziraphale’s fingers brushed through Crowley’s hair, earning a very satisfied purr from the demon. Almost mischievously, he gently tugged Crowley’s hair. 

Crowley released a suppressed moan, a sound Aziraphale could only describe as euphonious. Almost like an instinct, he nipped the angel’s bottom lip, causing Aziraphale to wince slightly. Crowley was about to stop to ask him if he was alright, but Aziraphale instantaneously pulled him back into the kiss, knowing just what he had to do to make him do that again. 

“My dear... I’m not made of glass... I won’t simply crack.” Aziraphale breath was raspy between kisses. Crowley’s hands then trailed down to the angel’s back, and he deviously grabbed his buttocks, giving them a tender squeeze. It was Aziraphale’s turn to moan, a sound so blissful it made Crowley dizzy with lust. 

Crowley gently guided them towards the couch, never parting for a breath. Aziraphale collapsed onto the couch, dragging Crowley down with him. The demon straddled his hips, completely flush against Aziraphale. 

“Better be careful, angel.” Crowley growled playfully when he noticed Aziraphale was attempting to remove his vest. But he needn’t stop him.

“Mm? Why?” Aziraphale asked, not opening his eyes. Crowley pulled away from the kiss briefly, his lips trailing down to Aziraphale’s jawline, peppering along it with light kisses. Aziraphale’s head hit the top of the couch with a soft thud, giving Crowley more access to his neck. He stopped fumbling with the vest, giving in to the immense pleasure. They were breathing quicker, more excited at every touch, sensation.

“To put it simply... If a foul fiend were to see something... As painfully tantalizing as you...” he said between kisses, “Something ghastly may happen..” Crowley’s lips made their way to his neck, obviously a sensitive area for the angel, who let out a pleasurable gasp.

“Ohh, whatever might happen to me?” Aziraphale played along. Something in the way Aziraphale sounded turned Crowley on even more than he thought was possible. Of course, it was made obvious through his effort.

“Nng.. Oh you wouldn’t like to find out, angel.” Crowley tried to restrain himself.

“Oh... But I really do, my dear- Oooh, Crowley!” Aziraphale whined, cut off when he felt Crowley’s hips grind painstakingly slow onto his as he kissed behind his ear. He was worshiping him. 

“A demon might possess you, Aziraphale.” Crowley growled into his ear, returning to Aziraphale’s lips for a heated kiss. Aziraphale pulled him closer, gripping his thighs, letting him know that he very much liked what he was doing. 

“If I may... I’m willing to be yours to possess, Crowley.” Aziraphale insinuated during a breath. A devilish smile spread across Crowley’s lips, and nothing but adoration filling his eyes.

“~Oh, angel~.”

#GoodOmens #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x arizaphale #fanfiction #ineffablehusbands

[inthesummerswelter]

recipe for disaster: chapter seventeen

He's late.

Literally, if he doesn't get himself out the door in seven minutes, all the shops are going to be closed, and he’s going to have to try and live off convenience store quick-meals until he’s out of finals preparation.

Which is a fucking terrifying thought, considering that he practically barricades himself in his flat for two weeks while he does his revising, and he has absolutely no desire to eat canned, microwaved anything for such a long period of time.

So, with t-minus seven minutes until gastric doom, Ashton peels himself up from the spread of textbooks and notebooks and pens that cover all available inches of his floor and slips on a pair of shoes.

One jacket and a wallet in his pocket later, and he’s locking up his front door and heading out at a fast jog down the hallway towards the stairs.

But Ashton still finds himself slowing down as he approaches Penn's door, the brass numbers tarnished within the chipped paint covering the wood.

He takes it in, knowing that just inside will be her bicycle, propped up on the back wheel and leaning on the wall, just brushing the curtains that she threw together out of a bunch of old floral patterns she found in a sale bin and whipstitched on her gran's Singer. And, beyond that is the melon-coloured sofa, replete with mismatching cushions and worn patches from the dogs rubbing up against it, the upholstery gone all nubby in places.

Ashton draws back from the image with the horrified realization that he knows, can picture in full vivid detail, the entirety of Penn's flat right down to the light on the left side of her medicine cabinet that flickers whenever you open the door.

It's a scary thought. Because now he understands just how far gone he is.

Shaking his head - he's now eight minutes late and counting - he walks straight into a person as he attempts to pass the door to her flat. Partially because the person in question has just exited the aforementioned flat and had situated themselves directly in the center of the hallway.

"Oof!"

"Shit!"

Nobody falls, but it's a hard, teeth-jarring impact nonetheless.

"You okay there -- wait, Calum?"

It’s undeniably Calum, dark brown eyes crinkling up at the edges in pleasant surprise.

"Ashton? Mate, you're supposed to be revising now, aren't you?"

He’s about to respond when there’s a creak behind them.

To his astonishment, the door, her door Penn’s door, opens suddenly, a dark head popping out with eyes wide in confusion.

"Calum? I heard something thud just now, are you -- oh." Penn's eyes grow even wider at the sight of him standing before her, and it looks like a thousand emotions cross her face before she finally settles on supreme embarrassment.

Her face flushes as dark as the beets she plants in the greenhouse, crimson rushing up into her cheeks, covering up the faint freckles that dust the bridge of her nose. And, before his mouth can even form the first letters of her name - to tell her something, anything -the door just as suddenly slams back shut. A thunk is heard as the deadbolt slides into place.

"Fuck," he spits out.

There’s a pause as Calum shuffles his feet.

“So, um, I suppose you’re wondering why…?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

Another pause. More feet-shuffling.

“Let’s walk and talk. You’re going to the shops, right? I needed some things anyway.”

   Her heart is racing, her face feels like it’s on fire, and Penn finally thinks she might have a vague idea of what this is how you know means.

After sitting a few minutes on the floor, slumped with her back to the now-locked door - she doesn’t even know why she did that, locking the door like he’s going to burst in on her - it’s all she can do to pull herself up enough to make her way over to the sofa. Which she promptly flops down upon, face pressed deep into the depths of the cushions.

Penn’s taken back to her conversation with Calum which, although highly unexpected, ended up being ridiculously informative, and tries to reconcile his words with the look in Ashton’s hazel-green eyes when she had opened the door.

  Blowing the cup of hot tea she’s just placed in front of him - because he’s a guest and guests always have tea when they visit - Calum grips it with both hands and brings it up in front of him in a way that Penn associates with crotchety old aunts.

He doesn’t sip it though, just lets it sit there between his tanned fingers as he watches her putter about the kitchen, shifting things to and fro in a bout of nervous energy.

She’s restacking a set of plates when he says it, seconds later, easy as you please.

“He’s wrecked, you know. About all this.”

And just like that, there’s her heart up in her throat.

The plates clatter around dangerously, her hands trembling, and she doesn’t trust that her voice would come out steady.

But it’s no matter, because Calum continues without any prompting.

“You know, we’re mates. Or you might not know that, I don’t know. But, sometimes when we just chill, you know, you can sort of see it, in his eyes and all. When he thinks you’re not looking, he just looks like really distracted and wrecked.”

“He can’t though!” It bursts out of her mouth before she can stop it. “He can’t. He’s got someone.”

(Someone who’s not her. Better than her.)

He’s got one eyebrow raised, vague bemusement crossing his face. “Ashton’s got many someones. He’s a people person. You should know that. But I don’t think I’m talking about a someone like you are.”

Flapping her hands distractedly, trying to cast off the nerves building up underneath her skin, Penn brings herself to sit down in front of him and tucks her legs underneath her as she curls up into her chair.

“It’s not -- we’re not a someone. I mean, I’m not a someone to him. Like, he doesn’t --”

“Care about you?” He says back.

And the words that she’s been too scared to say are there now, out into the world, and she wants nothing more than to snatch them back, tuck them into a pocket and sew up the top so they don’t fly out again.

And they’re not even her words.

So instead, she whispers them back. “Yeah. He doesn’t care about me. Not like that.”

Calum takes a sip of his tea, and replies, “How do you know?,” unconsciously parroting her words to Zayn right back at her.

She thinks of the photographs, the this is how you know.

This is how you know.

That’s it.

Calum must know. He’s got to know.

And as he flips through the photos, just as Niall did, his face scrunches up.

“Penn,” he starts, voice hesitant. “It’s not my place to tell you what this is. You need to talk to him, like truly talk to him.”

Setting the folder back down on the table, he makes to get up and head for the door.

“Wait!” she calls, grabbing for his wrist. “But, why can’t you just --”

“What is the one word you’re too afraid to say?”

Those are the last words he utters before he leaves her flat, the door clicking quietly behind him. She doesn’t even try to stop him.

   Getting called into the office only twenty minutes after you’ve arrived at work is never a good sign. Even less so when a major promotion is on the line.

“I hate this,” Delacroix mutters, scrubbing his hands over his face tiredly as she perches on the chair across from his desk. “Fucking hate this, every single time.”

“Sir…” She’s not sure what to follow that up with, though, so the sentiment trails off.

Laying back in his chair, he tilts his head to the side, examining the girl before him as closely as he would a plate laid in front of him for a final inspection.

“Tomlinson told me, you know, about your problems after your grandmere’s passing. Criss, Penn, why couldn’t you have just -- I can’t, I can’t, not with this. Louis is getting the promotion.”

Someone’s just taken a railroad spike and hammered it through her middle. She’s transfixed and numb, stuck in that chair like a butterfly speared in a collection.

He continues, attempting to explain away the dull ache building in her chest.

“The main reason - one of the only reasons, in fact - comes down to how much you have been through. Are going through. I know that now, and I have no desire to add to that stress, because then your work would suffer and where would I, a businessman, be with that? No, I have decided that Louis takes over Basiatio as executive chef, effective immediately, and you will run Farrago, starting five months from now. That should be enough time to have yourself in order.”

Penn doesn’t think she heard clearly. “Wait, what?”

“Five months’ time, trial time almost, then executive here, Penn. I expect flawless performance throughout, though. No slips, you hear me?”

She nods emphatically, thanking him profusely and dashing out of the office before he’s got the opportunity to change his mind.

She’s going to do it. She’s going to make it, live her dream, become as fucking successful as she can and soar to unfathomable heights.

She’s going to make Gran and Pop proud.

A whirlwind of emotions swirl around in her gut for the rest of the day, and Louis grabs her by the arm just as she’s about to trip down the stairs with her bicycle on the way out.

“Did you hear?” he starts solemnly, a blank look on his face, and, for all of her previous frustrations with this boy, this person, she really can’t be arsed to care about it anymore.

Patting his cheek, Penn smiles. “Yes, I did. Congratulations, chef. You earned it, Louis.”

“And you’re okay with doing the whole waiting thing?”

“You know, it really doesn’t matter that much even more. I’m confident that I can make the five months and get the position. And I’ve got other things to worry about now, before then. Everything will be sorted out, and it’ll be fine.”

Louis doesn’t look convinced, cocking one eyebrow with a smirk. “Other things? You mean, your Ashton?”

Penn absolutely hates him now, mentally revoking her congratulations. Her mouth opens, to tell him just as such, but those aren’t the words that end up pouring out.

"He’s not my Ashton. I don't know anything with him anymore! I honestly have no idea what we are, it’s not like we've been talking recently, and way too much has happened to just out and ask him what the hell we are. And he pretty much hates me, so there’s that as well."

Finally, a serious look crosses Louis' face as he simultaneously folds his arms. "Then I'll ask the hard-hitting questions. Do you like him? Are you attracted to him? What is he to you, just to you? Don’t try to define a relationship if you’re not even sure what your feelings are towards him."

A flush rises in her cheeks as she remembers all those honey-tinged mornings in her kitchen, and her heart begins to pound.

Throwing one leg over the saddle, Penn turns to leave, fussing with the straps of her backpack. "You know, I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I don't have to listen to this, I mean, I should really get going..."

She misses the way Louis glances quickly over her shoulders before he steps in closer.

"Two birds, one stone," he mumbles, the hint of a grin appearing at the corner of his mouth.

Cupping her face deliberately, he leans over the handlebars towards her face, stopping millimetres away. He's so close that Penn can feel the warmth of his breath glide across her cheekbones, and, just as she's about to ask what the fuck he thinks he's doing, he whispers, "Just go with this. I want to try something."

And he kisses her, presses his mouth to hers solidly, determinedly.

She's so shocked that she rocks back on her heels, enough that he wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her in until the ends of the handles press into her middle.

(It's a good thing that he warned her, otherwise her hand would be on its way to making a painful acquaintance with the side of his tanned face.)

But it's not a bad kiss, by any standard. A nice kiss. A passable, almost friendly kiss.

Her heart isn't thumping in her chest, her pulse isn't racing.

And, when he pulls away, she tells him. "That was...nice."

Laughing, Louis wiggles his eyebrows. "A little bit more practice and it'll be a bit more than nice, love."

He goes to lean back in before an arm catches around Penn's shoulders, throwing her wildly off balance and causing her to clutch at her handlebars and stretch her toes to the ground to keep her planted.

 "I think that's enough of that, actually." Ashton's voice comes from somewhere above her head and, for a second, she thinks she's hallucinating. He can't be here, touching her, right now.

He hates her.

He despises her.

He...hasn't let go yet, even though Louis has stepped back, hands raised up defensively.

"Ashton?" she stammers out, still unwilling to believe that this isn't some elaborate hoax Louis has pulled on her.

If anything, her voice startles him, and he lets go suddenly, throwing her into another battle to stay on her feet.

Arms windmilling ferociously, she's seconds away from imminent collapse when Louis lunges towards her and grabs onto her arm.

It's like an instant replay though, as a sour look crosses Ashton's face when he starts towards her again, and Penn decides that it might just be prudent to dismount from the bicycle altogether.

Tossing her leg back over until she stands on solid ground, she takes in the picture: Ashton, bags of groceries in hand and clad in a jumper and black denims, glaring down at Louis, who's got enough nerve to risk a cheeky grin to go along with his pristine white chef's coat.

There's a tug at her sleeve and a third boy materializes by her side. It's Niall, who's probably functioning as Louis' best and only sort of back up in this endeavor.

"We can leave now, if you want. Nip up to m' da's place in Mullingar, get away from this." He mumbles jokingly, as he gestures at the scene before them, a bad move as it brings the other pair's attention back to their corner.

“You? Are you here for her too?”

“Here for me?” Penn’s tone is incredulous, temper momentarily taking over and stomping out her embarrassment. “I am not a thing!”

Ashton immediately back-pedals, hands raising up defensively, placatingly. “No, no, no, Penn, no - I just wanted to know if I could walk you home.”

And that’s it. She’s done, melted on the ground from the look in his eye and the sweetness in his voice.

“I...I -- no,” she stammers. Everything is too, too much now, so she backs away from it, stepping on the pedals and speeding away from everything that hurts.  

  It’s not until she’s sorting through the photos one last time, setting certain ones aside to hang up on the walls above her bed that her heart gives one hard thump as she thumbs the corner of the Polaroid.

It’s one of her and Ashton, the one where they’re on the sofa together.

Her heart gives another thud against her ribcage and that’s when she realizes: oh, Ashton.

I’m in love with Ashton.

  And this is how you know.

#fic: recipe for disaster #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sosff #updates

[yourdreamscenarios]

When you hate someone they’re close to

∙ Request ♡ ∙ Word count: 4,603 ∙ RM, Jimin, V, Jungkook ♡ 

∙ Jin

“I’m coming!” You roared, drawing your robe closer around you and rushing down the stairs. It was three a’clock in the morning, it was practically still the middle of the night, normal people were supposed to be in bed right now. You’d been one of those people, that was until a crazy person had decided to come murdering your doorbell and bang on the front door. Who the hell was it? You were already annoyed because someone had the nerve to wake you up like this in the middle of the night. If you’d had to find out that whoever this was didn’t have a good reason to be here you were going to knock them out. On bare feet you marched through the living room, into the hallway and all the way toward the front door. It wasn’t cold in the house, but the temperature of the air compared to the warmth you’d felt underneath the comforter in your bed was such a huge difference that it caused you to shiver. You weren’t supposed to be here. 

You were supposed to be having sweet dreams with your boyfriend by your side. You wondered if he had even heard the sound of the doorbell going off? He hadn’t moved or hadn’t given a single sign that he was planning on making his way downstairs with you. You weren’t even sure if it was a very smart move to open the door for someone in the middle of the night? What if it was someone who wanted to rob you but who wanted to get in without making things hard for himself? The doorbell resounded against the walls another time and you groaned in frustration as you stopped in front of it. Peering through the peep hole you noticed a girl standing standing on the other side. But even with the porch lights on it was too dark to recognize her. You frowned as you reached fro the locks and began to open them. She didn’t look like one of your fiends, yet you were sure you had seen her before.  

As soon as you pulled the door open a freezing breeze traveled past your bare legs, causing your muscles to tense. “What the hell…” You started, but were unable to finish your sentence as the strange girl in front of you lifted her head and her face stared right back at yours. How convenient. Wonderful. The mocking thoughts rang inside of your mind as she looked at you, her gaze glassy, as if she hadn’t really seen you yet. She blinked her eyes a few times as you shot her an annoyed look. This definitely wasn’t worth for you to sacrifice your sleep. “Where’s Seokjin?” Her words were slurred as she extended a hand in hope to lean it against the wall to support herself. Instead she missed, and she almost tumbled right onto the floor of your hallway. Reaching forward you steadied her, grabbing her by the elbow. Though as soon as you knew she was secure on her own feet again you let her go, as if touching her burned you. That was what it felt like, to be quite honest. 

You glared at her, wondering where she got the nerve to come looking for your boyfriend in the middle of the night. She was staring past you, probably looking for him. The whelm of alcohol floated towards you, making you scrunch your nose in disgust. Of course she was drunk. She was already unbearable to deal with when she was sober, you didn’t even want to know what she was like in this state. You were just about to tell her that Seokjin was in bed, just like every other normal human being in this country and she had to get her ass off your porch, when all of a sudden you heard a voice coming from behind you. “Yuri?” Your boyfriend’s soft and disbelieving voice caused you to squeeze your eyes in surrender. Couldn’t he stay in bed for just a while longer? At least until you could have slammed the door close in her face and you could have pretended as if nothing had happened. 

Now, you had to watch how she stumbled inside of your house, and threw her unsteady body on top of her ex boyfriend. Why couldn’t she just leave the two of you alone? He had been clear to her so many times before, but for one reason or another she just couldn’t let it go, she couldn’t let him go. Even though you had heard the story and she was obviously the one who had broken up with her. “Seokjin! Please, I miss you!” She sounded like a wailing child and for a second you were sure she was about to get down on her knees and start begging him to take her back. She didn’t even seem to notice that you were still standing here. “Are you drunk?” Seokjin asked astonished, his eyes slipped towards you for a moment before they slipped back to her. His hands rested on her upper arms to keep her from dropped herself on the floor and you heaved a deep sigh as you shut the door behind yourself. Something told you that he wasn’t planning on sending her away. No matter what had happened between the two of you, he wasn’t able to bring up the hate which you felt towards her. “I just…I just need you! You don’t know how hard it is!” She mumbled again, her head lulling to one side. 

She was making a complete fool of herself and she didn’t even seem to realize it. That was probably the nice part of being drunk, not knowing that you were embarrassing yourself. She could only hope she also wouldn’t be able to remember this tomorrow morning. It was obvious that Seokjin was unsure of what to do, knowing that if he kept her here he would piss you off, but also knowing he couldn’t kick her out while she was in this state. So you decided to help him, your sleep long forgotten. “Take her to the couch, I’ll get her some water.” You grumbled and you didn’t look at either of them as you walked past them. Her desperation was sickening. It wasn’t like you were scared to loose him, she would never be able to get him back again, not after what she had done. But you hated that she continued to show up inside of your lives and tried to break the two of you apart. It had to end, because you weren’t planning to keep on taking this. 

Arriving inside of the kitchen you had the feeling as if this was the first time you were able to breath again since you had gotten out of bed. There was a big chance she’d be sleeping on your couch tonight, since she wasn’t capable of getting home. You were in no mood to deal with her while she was hangover in the morning. You hauled open one of the kitchen cabinets to find a set of glasses. Grabbing one you walked towards the fridge and took a bottle of ice cold water, hoping it might help her clear her mind. You were just filling up the glass when you felt someone appear in the kitchen behind you, but you didn’t turn around to look who it was. “She’s in the living room. I can’t believe she showed up here.” Seokjin muttered quietly, obviously trying to make sure she wouldn’t hear him. It was a miracle she hadn’t followed him in here already. Perhaps she had already passed out. You remained silent as you spilled some of the water on the counter, causing you to grind your teeth in frustration. If this was the way the day was about to stay then it surely wasn’t going to be a good one. 

You could feel him nearing and before you knew it you could feel his chest pressed up against you, his hands placed on your shoulders reassuringly. “Don’t be mad.” He whispered softly, squeezing your muscles softly. Throwing aside the piece of cloth you had used to wipe up the mess you had created you sighed deeply before turning around to face him. “Listen, I absolutely hate her. But I’m trying to work something out for you.” You growled, sending him a glare, even though you knew none of this was his fault and he hadn’t wished for any of this himself. Still, it was his ex girlfriend, which meant it was his responsibility. Yet, he didn’t seem to be affected by your angry look, since the corners of his lips turned up into a smile. “I know, and I really appreciate it. How about we call a cab and we send her home?” He suggested, and you could feel a weight falling from your shoulders. He chuckled slightly as he lowered his face towards your and pressed a kiss on your lips. 

∙ Suga

“I mean, I don’t understand why he started dating you in the first place. It’s obvious he is way out of her league! He could get so much better than that… I can’t even think of a suited word to describe her really. I mean, have you looked at her, like really looked at her? She’s up to something, I can tell! She only wants him for his money and his fame. Just wait for it, she’ll break his heart and then we’ll be the ones who have to put the pieces back together.” She went on and on, and to be honest you really didn’t want to hear this. But somehow you were frozen, your feet glued against the tiles. From the second you had walked into the door earlier tonight you had noticed that something was off. Yoongi’s mother had been smiling in your face all night, but something about it had been so fake. It was the same as always, she was always nice in your face, but behind your back she’d go around telling people the nastiest things about you and she would tell everyone how much she hated you. Well, the feeling was mutual. 

Ever since you’d first met her she had been trying to break you and your boyfriend apart. She was convinced that you weren’t right for her son, and no matter how much you tried to get into her favor, it just didn’t work. You had told Yoongi about this many times before, but he told you that it was just a phase, that it would pass. He said she just had to get used to the idea of her son being in love and having a new woman in his life. Well, she should have gotten used to it after two years, and she still hadn’t. You were done flattering her and trying to solve this. You weren’t planning on doing an effort for someone who would never accept it. To her you would never be good enough. One of the reasons was probably that you didn’t owe enough money, that you didn’t come from a rich family. In her eyes the fact that you made her son happy wasn’t enough for you to deserve him.

You flinched when a hand landed on top of your shoulder, squeezing it a little. You hadn’t meant to get caught, but it wasn’t really like you were trying to be very subtle. You were standing in the middle of the doorway of the kitchen, blocking it for everyone who was trying to get in or out. It was a miracle she hadn’t noticed you standing here herself, but she was too busy gossiping about you against her husband to take notice of you. To her you were just a small problem she had to get rid of, nothing more than that. But after two years, she had found out that you weren’t that easy to eliminate. “You shouldn’t be listening to this.” Yoongi’s voice whispered inside of your ear and you sniffed at it. Why shouldn’t you? They were talking about you, while they were very much aware there was a chance you would hear. Actually, you were quite sure she had meant for you to catch up on this conversation. 

It was probably another way for her to hope that this would get too much for you and you would leave anyway. You stared holes in her back from where you were standing and for the first time since you had been introduced to her you felt like standing up for yourself. You couldn’t allow someone to speak like this about you. She didn’t even take the chance to get to know you, so how could she possibly think she knew what your intentions were with her son? As if he could feel the tension in the air rising Yoongi reached for your hand and he quickly started tugging you away from the kitchen. The only reason he succeeded in doing so was because you let him. You weren’t up for another fight. He halted when the two of you got into the living room, where he was sure the two of you could have a private conversation without being eavesdropped. 

The table in the middle of the room was still set to have a relaxing family dinner. But to you, a dinner with his family could never be of such sorts. To be honest you had no desire to stay here. You just wanted to go home, she could stuff herself with her distasteful turkey. You didn’t know what you had done to deserve all of this. “I’m so sorry, I really hoped she would’ve come around this time.” He muttered, stepped towards you and placed both of his hands on your upper arms, trying to soothe you. The both of you knew that nothing was going to change her opinion of you. He had tried to talk to her so many times before, had asked her to give you a break and to leave you alone, but she simply wouldn’t listen. You had already given up your hopes of thinking that something might change. The only reason why you were still putting up with them was because you loved Yoongi so much. If it weren’t for him you would have walked out of this a long time ago. “You have every right to be angry.” He assured you and you sighed deeply before you lowered yourself on the couch. 

You had passed the feeling of anger a very long time ago. Anger wasn’t the right word to describe the way you felt towards her. You had never directly told him, because no matter what happened between you and her, she was still his mother and you had to respect that. But you couldn’t keep on taking this. You weren’t someone who was going to ask him to choose between his girlfriend and his mother, but it wasn’t going to be very easy to maintain it. You didn’t want to think of her trying to ruin your wedding one day, or when you’d finally get children and she would try to turn them against you. “Listen, I absolutely hate her. But I’m trying to work something out for you. She’s your mother, after all.” You muttered, rubbing your hands across your face in the hope it would help you release some tension. You had never taken those words inside of your mouth before when he was around. You had told your friends about it, and they all told you that you were right. But telling your boyfriend that you hated his mother, it seemed kind of heartless. 

But you weren’t heartless, you had just run out of patience and you were so done with this game. It was like there was a secret war going on between the two of you, but no one else was allowed to notice. But you were sick of hiding it. Yoongi nodded, his look harsh as he lowered himself on the sofa beside you. You knew he wasn’t going to get angry with you or he wasn’t going to lash out on you. After all he had been on the front line all along and he knew everything his mother had done to you, everything she had put you through. One of the reasons why he loved you was because you didn’t allow anyone else to mess with you, this was one of those moments. “I get it, I really do. But what do you expect from me?” He asked, turning his body towards you and sending you a questioning look. You knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if this was where you had reached to point of making him choose. You detested the fact that he only dared to think that you would ever do such thing. You would never sink that low. “Nothing Yoongi! She’s your mother for God’s sake! I guess loving someone always comes with a prize.” 

“it seems like the prize I have to pay is trying to get along with a mother in law who absolutely hates me. Though as long as I don’t have to see her every day, I guess that’s a prize I’m willing to pay.” You said, and you could see the way he rolled his eyes at you because of your dramatic statement before he smiled at you. He curled his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side for a very uncomfortable hug. But it was still nice, it was what you needed. “Because you can’t live without me.” He joked softly and you snorted. Yet, you didn’t say anything, because perhaps it was slightly true. Pecking your temple once more he let go of you and stood up from the spot on the couch. “How do you feel about some pizza?” He asked and you frowned at him in confusion. You couldn’t order take out, his mother would kill the both of you. But then he extended his hand to you and nodded his head towards the door. “Let’s get out of here.” 

∙ J Hope 

Sitting on the couch you watched the two of them laugh because of a joke you couldn’t quite understand. You tugged your lips up into something that looked like a smile. To be honest you didn’t really want to be here. You didn’t mind them spending time with each there by themselves, it wasn’t like you were jealous of her, no at all. But him trying to bring the two of you together and trying to blend you into the friendship they owned probably wasn’t a very good idea. You just hadn’t been able to think of the right way to tell him yet because you didn’t want to hurt his feeling. He liked her and he loved you and of course he wanted the two girls who were important in his life to get along. But not every dream could become reality. They were best friends and he had known her long before you had come into the picture. They had been through things together you had no clue of, they had made stories together you had never read. Still, he tried so hard to make it seem as if you had been there that sometimes it was quite painful. 

You wished he would just stop trying so hard, because this wasn’t going very well. When they were done laughing he patted his knees in joy, before eying the two of you in turn. “I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” He said and you already guarded yourself, knowing that nothing good was about to happen when he left the two of you by yourselves. He probably expected the two of you to have some great conversations together which friends had, two girls who cared about the same person. But nothing was less true. She didn’t like you one bit, and you could only say you felt the same way. As soon as he got up from the couch and walked out of the room the sphere turned icy and you had the desire to turn up the heating in the hope to fight it. You tried your hardest to avoid her gaze, but after a few seconds of ignoring the way she was glaring at you, you gave up. 

Sighing deeply you returned her stare, making sure your eyebrows were meeting each other in the middle of your face in dislike. She always looked at you as if you were the dirt underneath her shoe, as if you weren’t worthy her company. She always did it when Hoseok wasn’t near, so he surely couldn’t overhear what she said to you. The two of you both knew it would break his heart to figure out what things were really like between the two of you. “Can’t you just go hang out with your own friends? Why do you always have to be around when Hobi and I meet up? It’s so freaking annoying.” She pointed out and you sniffed, throwing your hair back over your shoulder. As if she had the right to say such thing. She wasn’t the one who felt left out of conversations whenever the two of them were together, she wasn’t the one who was always forced to act as if nothing was wrong as soon as she left and Hoseok asked why you were being so quiet. She could just walk out and pretend as if nothing happened. 

Why couldn’t she put in some effort as well? It wasn’t like she had to see you every single day. “I don’t understand why he likes you anyway.” She suddenly muttered and your eyes almost bulged out of your skull because of it. She was always mean, but she had never said something like this before. It seemed like her true colors were finally starting to show. Whenever Hoseok wasn’t around she would show them to you a little more and it seemed like you were finally about to find out what this had been about all this time. “What the hell if you problem?” You asked, your voice a little sharper and louder than you had meant for it to be. By now you were no longer worrying about your boyfriend overhearing the two of you. Perhaps it was time for him to find out the truth. She let out a sarcastic laugh, one that made all your bones rattle. 

“I thought that would be obvious by now, but it seems like you’re a little clueless, aren’t you?” She was speaking to you as if you were a little child who needed to be mocked because of doing something bad. You didn’t like the tone she was using against you one bit. Glaring at her you squeezed your fingers into two tight fists, hoping it would stop you from shouting at her. Because you really wanted to do that right now, you wanted to yell at her to stop acting like an idiot. “Hoseok is my friend! And you stole him from me!” She spat at you and you let out a outraged chuckle. This had to be a joke. You hadn’t stolen anyone from anyone. You had Hoseok had fallen in love, back then you hadn’t even known that he had a best friend. Yet, you had never made a problem of it, not even when he had told you that his best friend was a girl. You trusted him and you loved him, you wanted him to be happy. If she would care for her best friend half as much as you did she would understand and she would try to get along with you. You were his girlfriend and you weren’t planning on leaving his side any time soon. “Hoseok is still your friend! I haven’t done anything.” You said, getting up from the couch and planning to make your way towards the kitchen. 

Perhaps it was better if you gave her some room to breathe. She obviously needed to cool down. But as you walked forward to get past her, she surprised you by placing her hands against your shoulders and giving you a harsh push. You squealed as you stumbled backwards, hitting the tiles with a loud thud. You squirmed when your butt hit the ground, knowing that the impact of the blow would leave a bruise. She was towering over you, pointing an accusing finger at you and for the first time since you had met her you actually felt terrified. “What are you doing?!” Hoseok’s voice rang around the room and you could watch her cringe. She obviously hadn’t expected him to walk in and see her like this. You stared up at her with big eyes as she turned yourself towards him, sending him an innocent look. “Hobi, I swear this isn’t what it looks like.” She started, but by the way he looked at her you could already tell that her excuses were no longer reaching him. She had messed up badly this time. 

“I already told you that you have to stop doing this Yoona! She is my girlfriend, why can’t you understand that?” He breezed and you were shocked to find out that it seemed like the two of them had spoken about this before. So it wasn’t a secret to him that she totally disliked you. Your head seemed to be spinning because of everything you had to take in. She stuttered something you couldn’t quite understand, but it seemed as if he was done listening to her. He didn’t get angry very often and especially not at either one of you, but it seemed as if she had pushed too far this time. His finger was pointing into the direction of the door as he shot her an angry look. “Get out.” He growled and she tried to fight him for a little moment, before she sniffed and she turned on her heels and made her way out. She didn’t even look at you, didn’t apologize for working you towards the ground. To be honest you weren’t sure how to feel. Hoseok quickly made his way towards you, crouching down beside you. 

“Are you okay? Gosh I can’t believe she did this.” He muttered as he extended his hand to you as to check on the damage, but you slapped it away. His eyes widened in surprise but he didn’t reach out to you again as you crawled up into a seated position. Your muscles were yelling at you and you could tell that a few spots were going to be extremely sore tomorrow. “I can’t believe you already knew the way she felt about me and you never asked me about it!” You yelled at him. You never shouted at him, so to say that you were both astonished was probably an understatement. He blinked his eyes at you a few times before he spoke up. “I did! but you always told me that you were fine and I was seeing ghosts.” He remarked and you slumped your shoulders at that. He was right, you had been so busy to keep him from getting hurt that you hadn’t realized what had been going on all this time. You sighed as you combed your fingers through your hair. “Listen, I absolutely hate her. But I’m trying to work something out for you…” You mumbled and he smiled softly at you before wrapped his arms around you. “I know…”

∙ BTS Masterlist ♡ ∙ Masterlist ♡

#bts #bts yoongi #bts jhope #bts hoseok #bts jin #bts seokjin #bts suga #suga #yoongi #jhope #hoseok #scenario #scenarios #suga scenarios #jin scenarios #jhope scenario #bts scenarios #bts scenario #imagine #bts imagines #jin imagines #suga imagines #jhope imagines #love #you x bts #you #oc #reader #fluff #angst

[badwolf-in-the-impala]

~Whiskey Lullaby~

~Chapter 2~

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Image Credit: Pictures not mine obviously, but the collage is.

Rating: NSFW-18+

Warnings: Alcohol and drug abuse, violence, suggested sexual/physical abuse, kidnapping, sexual content, angst.

A/N: Sorry I’ve been slow getting updates posted. I hope you’re enjoying it so far though. And as always, if you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

|| Masterlist ||

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The pounding in her head was what woke her the following morning. Shielding her eyes from the glaring light that was filtering in through the window to left of her bed, she sat up and squinted as she took in her surroundings. The only clothing she had left on were her bra and panties, the blankets kicked messily to the floor; but the empty room was an indicator she had slept alone last night. Which was a good thing...for once.

The last thing she needed was her brother up her ass for acting like a fucking Crow Eater, and given how much she had drank the previous night things were a tad on the fuzzy side. Doing her best to suppress the agonized groan as she pressed the heel of her palms against her eyes, trying to relieve some of the presser building in her skull as she attempted to recount her steps from the night before.

Heaving herself off the bed, she looked around the room for any sign of her clothes. The search leaving her empty handed. It seemed her pants and her tank top were as good as gone, but her boots were somehow placed neatly beside the bed.

“Fantastic...” She muttered under her breath. The last thing she needed was to walk out in her current state...not only would the guys have a field day, but her brother would likely skin her alive. But thankfully, a little more searching turned up an old Def Leppard tee that she quickly tugged over her head; scents of leather, Marlboro, and a faint hint of cedar washing over her. The combination was pleasant, soothing even, as she inhaled deeply. All thoughts of her hangover disappearing for a brief moment before she caught herself, letting the fabric fall away from her nose, her headache suddenly ragging again as she reached for the door.

It was still quiet when she stepped out of the room. Navigating the hall and the bodies and other random things that littered the floor the Clubhouse floor. Trying her best to be as quiet as possible as she crept towards the kitchen. Praising whatever God was listening that there was already a full pot of coffee waiting when she entered.

“See ye found yer’self somethin’ to wear.”

The voice caught her off guard as she was rummaging through a cabinet for a coffee cup and some Advil. The cup she had been reaching for clocking her in the head on the way to the floor as she jumped, tugging the shit down over her ass out of habit as she whirled around.

“Jesus Christ.” She breathed, her other hand clutching at her chest. “Are you trying to give me a goddamn heart attack?!”

Chibs gave a hearty chuckled as he grinned back at her, kicking away from his spot against the counter behind her to pick up the mug off the floor that thankfully, was still in one piece.

“Sorry, love.” He apologized, holding the mug out for her to take. “Dinna realize ye didn’ hear me come in.”  

“It’s a little hard to hear anything right now over the Mariachi Band that’s trying to escape from my skull.” She replied, her voice raspy from all the cigarettes and singing the night before. Chibs gave a small laugh as he filled her coffee cup.

“Three bottle a Tequila will do tha’ to ye.” He replied as he filled his own cup, returning the pot to it’s rightful place on the warmer before opening another cabinet and grabbing a small green bottle of Excedrin. “Should ‘elp.”

Teagan accepted the bottle eagerly, popping the cap off and shaking out a couple of the white pills. She downed them quickly with a sip of coffee, chasing it with half the glass of water that Chibs offered her.

“Thank you.” She breathed a sigh of relief, the water somewhat curing the awful case of dry mouth she had. “For the shirt too, I’m guessing?”

“Aye.” Chibs replied as he leaned back against the counter opposite of her. “Ye were still half clothed when I put ye’ta bed las’ night.”

“Define half?” She gave a groan of embarrassment in reply as she hid her face behind her right hand.

“Well...ye were wearin’ a shirt an’ yer boots.” He replied. “ Yer pants disappeared somewhere a’fer midnight.” He sipped at his coffee, trying to hide his amusement.

“Great.” She grumbled into her mug, the air between them falling silent between them a few moments.

“Dinna worry yer’self lass.” He assured, suddenly beside her again as he refilled his coffee mug. His kind brown eyes warm and assuring as he squeezed her shoulder gently. “Nothin’ wildly inappropriate happened...I mean, ye tackled the poor Prospect.” He chuckled at the last part, watching Teagan’s face turned red out of embarrassment.

“Oh God...” She groaned.

“Figured at tha’ point it was time fer bed.” He added.

“Well...” She cleared her throat awkwardly, her green eyes shifting up to meet his own. His expression kind and free of any judgement she normally might have received, allowing her to relax and smile softly in return. “Thank you for looking after me...I tend to get a little out of control sometimes.”

“Anytime, lass.” Chibs smiled, the dimples on his scarred cheeks making the older man that much more attractive. Her knees going a little weak as she turned her attention back to her coffee cup, ignoring the blush that was surly tinting her cheeks and ears pink.

“I’ll um, make sure you get your shirt back after I buy some clothes later.” She stated quietly before taking a sip, silently cursing herself for acting like a school girl with her first crush.

He waved her comment off as he looked down at her. “Ye can keep it. Looks better on ye anyway.” He assured her, not trying in the least to hide the flirtatious tone in his heavily accented voice.

Teagan was about to crawling under the table out of embarrassment, her face officially flaming, knowing he was referring to the earlier incident when he had entered the kitchen. There was no way he hadn’t seen her ass while she was stretched up on her tiptoes digging through the cabinet for a mug.

“Oh good, your up.”

“Jesus! Are you people trying to kill me?!” Teagan gasped at the sound of Gemma’s voice, the older woman smirking as she observed the sight in front of her.

“’Course not baby.” Gemma replied as she kissed the top of her head, accepting the coffee mug from Chibs with a smile.

“Certainly not how it feels...” Teagan mumbled sarcastically while rolling her eyes, yelping in surprise as the older woman’s hand connected with the back of her head sharply.

“Don’t get smart with me, missy.” She warned as Teagan rubbed at the back of her head. “I’m here to deliver something you might want.”

“Is it pants?” Chibs inquired with a teasing tone, ducking out of the way before both women could slap him.

“Enough with the comedy show and follow me.” She stated, Teagan groaning as Gemma pulled her forward and out a side door that lead to the back storage units. Thankful it was still early enough that the pavement wasn’t boiling hot yet as she was forced to go barefoot, Gemma impatient as always and refusing to wait for her younger counterpart to fetch her boots.

“Christ Gem, what’s the hurry?” She questioned, balancing her coffee carefully as they walked, trying not to let it slosh out of the cup.

“You’ll see.” Was the only reply to got as they stopped in front of one of the bigger units, Gemma pulling a key from her pocket and removing the lock before gesturing for Teagan to roll the door up. “Go on then.”

Teagan didn’t ask questions as she set her coffee cup down, thankful again that they were the only ones out back -- save for Chibs who crossed the lot, her boots in hand -- as she bent to grab the handle on the storage unit door. Her shirt ridding up, exposing the lacy neon pink cheeky panties she had been trying to keep covered.

Gemma shooting Chibs a warning glance as he settled beside her, watching the young woman with an amused expression as she struggled with the door. Muttering what he assumed to be profanities under her breath as she yanked the door free finally. Sending it upward to reveal a covered vehicle. Teagan glanced back at Gemma with a shocked, but excited, expression.

“Tig wanted to be the one to show you...” Gemma nodded. “He had business this morning with Clay though...so he asked if I would return this.” She watched with a smile as Teagan ripped the car cover off, revealing an old primer painted ‘68 Chevelle.

“How?!” She questioned with a look of astonishment as she ran her hand up the hood. Inspecting every inch of the car carefully. “It was almost completely totaled.”  

“Tiggy fixed it up as best he could after you went away.” Gemma smiled sadly. “He knew how much it meant to you, and he wanted to make sure it was here, in case you ever wanted it back.”

“I figured he would’ve scraped the damn thing.” Teagan chuckled halfheartedly, her bright green eyes suddenly full of a million different emotions. Chibs observing with great curiosity from behind Gemma, but he knew better than to ask questions.

“Clay convinced him not too.”

“Oh...” Teagan replied quietly, her expression falling as she looked through the windshield at the gutted interior of the old car. Memories of her past suddenly hitting her like the weight of a thousand suns. Swallowing hard around the lump that was forming in her throat, she wiped at her face quickly as she turned to exit the storage unit.

“I uh...I should go get ready.” Pushing passed Gemma and Chibs gently, she retreated back to the clubhouse without another word.

“Wha’ was tha’ all abou’?” Chibs questioned as he watched her walk away. A sense of worry suddenly taking it’s hold, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

“It’s not my story to tell.” Gemma replied with a sad smile as she patted his shoulder gently. Picking up the coffee mug she had left behind and closed the unit before heading back inside as well.

Leaving Chibs alone with his own thoughts. Wonder just what exactly had happened in Teagan’s past to leave her looking so...broken?

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TAGLIST: @cole-winchester @stacie-marie-bloom @journeyrose

#Whiskey Lullaby #sons of anarchy #Chibs Telford #Chibs #Filip Telford #SOA #SAMCRO #Tommy Flanagan #Filip Chibs Telford #chibs x oc #Filip Telford x oc #Jax teller #gemma teller #Clay Morrow #Tig Trager #Happy Lowman #juice ortiz #bobby munson #tara knowles

[hardblazesong]

Noir Nocturne Part 1 Chapter 10 There’s No Place Like Home

Mrs. Bartlett led Dougal to the next room and pointed out the bathroom across the hall on the third floor before taking Murtagh and Angus to the attic. “If you find it too hot up here gents, let me know and I’ll bring a fan up. You are welcome to leave the windows open and be watching your heads if you don’t mind. Don’t want to have to pay the clinic for stitches.”

The room had a sharp inclined V roof but there was no chance they would hit their heads on it as it was well up from standing distance. Murtagh decided the woman must be having a laugh. “Is it always this warm than Mrs.?” He asked, tossing his hat onto one of the beds, and shrugging out of his jacket.

“Hah! This ain’t warm, it’s only 8 in the morning! It gets worse over the day and summer. No humidity to speak of though, and coolish at night. You boys let me know if there is anything ya need. I’ve left ya sheets and pillows and see ya have your own blankets. You can come down to the kitchen for coffee when you’re settled. But don’t be thinking I do that every day. Just cause your foreign and all don’t mean I can afford to spoil ya.” She shook her finger at them and left by the steep staircase.

The room held two single beds, a tall chest of drawers, hooks on the finished walls at the foot of each bed and a small round table with two straight backed chairs. The seating area was on the opposite end from the staircase along with trunks of varying sizes. The beds sat on a large round braided rug and tucked flush to the walls. There was no heat source that he could see. It did have double windows at each end though that had no curtains, so a goodish amount of light was being let in.

Angus made his bed and then started to rummage around the trunks. They were locked.

“Dinna break them ya wee bugger, Claire will hae your head. “

“As if tha could stop me.” He chuckled and pulled out his hidden dagger, “tis no great feat picking a lock ya great fool.”

Giving up, Murtagh took his time studying the pictures on the walls. They were the most realistic paintings he had ever seen, preserved somehow under glass. Men and Women in all sorts of fancy dress, standing next to the automobiles or sitting together in various poses. Several of them had To Rhea on them.

He heard someone coming up the steps, snapped his fingers at Angus to get his attention and put his hand behind on his dirk.  

“Murtagh, the light switch for the overhead is here by the steps. See?” Claire said as she stepped into the attic, turning on the light as she came in. “Oh, and you have two floor lamps as well, that’s nice. You pull the cord under the lampshade, like this, see? This metal looking box thing is a radiator, heat comes from it from a boiler in the basement I’m assuming.”

“Jamie, Dougal come up here please. We need to figure out our day and I need to call Father McDaniel as well.” She yelled down the steps. Turning to Angus, she frowned. “And just what are you doing over there? I doubt there is anything in those that you will be wanting or needing.”

Angus rolled his eyes and sat down at the table. “And how would you be knowing that?” He then proceeded to pick his nails with the dagger, while pretending not to care about whatever she was talking about.

Murtagh decided making his bed would give him something to do while Claire planned out their next moves. Jamie and Dougal seemed to be at ease, for now, so all was well there.

“Claire? Are these paintings?” Dougal said, standing with his nose right up to one.

“No, they’re photographs. Likenesses captured on film. You use a gadget called a camera. I can see we may need to take a trip to the library soon or I am going to be spending all my time instructing you on all the marvels of modern science.

I will go to the Clinic tomorrow, so we have time today to find the employment center, the barber, and perhaps a store and donation center for more needed items. You’ll need work clothes once you’re employed. I think it wise if you hide your weapons for now. We may need to pawn a few of them if our money runs out quickly. I think your and Jamie’s guns should bring a good sum Dougal. Collector’s items generally do. Besides, there are better guns now. Semi-Automatics that you don’t have to prime and load a shot at a time.

Not that I am recommending that. No one goes around with swords, dirks or daggers unless they are in the Military. If they are armed, they wear a holster and handgun likely, although switchblade knives exist now. 

Why in the world am I even telling you all this? You can’t just get into fights on the streets. The Police will haul you off to jail in a heartbeat. So, you are all going to have to learn to control your tempers.” She wound down as she sat down on Murtagh’s bed and sighed heavily.

That got their attentions Murtagh thought. Better weapons? She knew them well enough then. Smart to start with that today. His opinion of her went up another notch.

“Weel, how about we go have coffee with Mrs. Bartlett? She said we could, I think.” Angus interjected after tucking his weapons under his mattress. Murtagh noticed he keep the dagger though. “How old do you reckon the fat bessom is?” Angus leered and wiggled his brows at Dougal.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake Angus leave her be, I beg you.” Claire said standing again “Surely there are more important things on your mind!”

Murtagh, Jamie and Dougal exchanged a glance and then turned as one and headed down the steps.

“mmph” said Angus and followed behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jamie hardly had time to scrutinize his room before Claire had called him upstairs. It seemed nice enough. It reminded him a bit of a guest room at Lallybroch. His first order of business was to push the beds together. He wasn’t going to give Claire a chance to get used to sleeping without him by her side.

It would have to wait until later though. He saw the layout he wanted instantly and filed it away for reference. There would be time after they had taken care of some more adaption business. He was happy to see that Murtagh seemed comfortable with the arrangements. He probably wanted the room next to him, but likely felt he was close enough to come running if needed.

They left the attic and headed down to the kitchen, taking note of what they could see of the second and first floors of the house. There were several closed doors on the second floor. Jamie’s curious nature had him wanting to open each one of them, but they likely led to rooms with other boarders. He didn’t think Claire or Mrs. Bartlett would appreciate him just heading into them so he took his time on the first floor instead.

To the left of the central staircase was a large seating room. Several comfortable looking chairs and two couches surrounded a wooden cabinet and a fireplace. There was a square table that sat four in once corner and two of the walls were covered in book shelves. The was an odd looking large horn atop another cabinet in one corner.

“Claire what’s that?” he pointed as he pulled her into the room by the elbow.

“Oh, it’s a phonograph. It plays records, which are recorded music or speaking.”

“Recorded? Like writing?”

“Something like that. That other cabinet contains a radio. You can listen to people from all over the world speaking. They tell stories, the news, commentary on the events of the day. There are also musical programs. Mainly it is for entertainment.” She chuckled as she caught the astonished look on his face. “I promise it’s not magic. It’s science.”

“I dinna ken yet if I believe ya or no, but as I believe you to be a woman of her word, and my wife at that, I’ll trust that ye are not making things up to laugh at me.” He stepped back to the hallway, reaching out for her hand as he went.

“Weel, tis easy enough to see that this is a dining room. Table seats twelve. Ye think we will meet the other boarders tonight then? I am a wee bit nervous about that if I’m honest.” He said, feeling like he was rambling on at her.

He felt stupid and sluggish. He knew he wasn’t, and that he was in fact quite clever. His tutors always said he was too bright for his own good and Jenny said it was too much of the Old Fox in his blood. That hurt, thinking of his family, better to push that all down inside for now.

“Are ye two coming or no? The kitchen’s this way.” Dougal said from a doorway across the room. He was frowning in their general direction.

“Aye, just takin our time about it.” Jamie said pulling Claire closer to his side and whispering down into her ear “He thinks he’s still the boss o’ me, ye ken?”

Claire laughed, smiled up at him and rolled her eyes, moving in front of him and turning to face his chest. “Was he ever?” she mouthed up at him with her back to Dougal.

“To hear him tell it, he’s been a Father, Brother, Uncle and Chieftain to me. Ye’ll note he never called himself my friend. The good news is he has no reason to want me dead now that I can see. The bad news is he’s still the same man who wanted it in the first place.” He spoke quietly to her while tucking one of her curls behind her ear.

She placed her hand on his waist, giving it a quick squeeze. “You will know how to handle him here. Just as you knew before. Besides, Murtagh would likely kill him before he got a chance to harm you again. Let’s see if Mrs. Bartlett will extend the coffee invitation to all of us. Then we can head out to the Barber Shop. I do hate that you will have to have your lovely hair chopped off, but am looking forward to seeing you all polished up.” She took up his hand again and crossed to the doorway Dougal had left.

“Aren’t Barbers about medicine? Leeches? Why would he want my hair in a shop?” Jamie shook his head and followed.

#noir nocturne #Jamie and Claire in the 30s AUOutlanderNoir