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spaceclefairy · 26 days

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Keep that Coffee Hot

You, a bounty agent. The Ghoul, a bounty hunter. The Ghoul needs to cash in on his most recent job and ends up with more than the contract promised.

Act I | Act II | Act III | Ao3 Compilation

When the Ghoul walks through the front door of your office, you know he's here for one of two things: a contract or a cashout. This no-name wasteland town is little more than a hub for the bounty agencies, so you get rough characters milling in and out of town all the time, but no one can clear a street quite like this Ghoul. You always know when he's back in town - the few people milling about scatter, and even the other bounty hunters coming through make themselves scarce. Even in the middle of a wasteland, he somehow makes the place even more desolate with his just presence alone.

You don't mind the Ghoul, personally. Dealing with him is part of your job, after all - you're a bounty agent, he's a bounty hunter. You manage the contracts, he hunts the target, you give the payout when he's done. Easy-peasy. He's intimidating, sure, and dangerous, but he's always been all business with you, and he’s damn good for business.

And if he’s a little flirty sometimes, well, you don’t mind.

This time when the Ghoul struts through your door, he’s dusty from the wasteland outside and carrying a grimy, drippy leather bag in hand. The leather bag squelches faintly as whatever's inside shifts around, dripping brownish liquid on the scrubbed wooden floor. He greets you in his usual way, with a howdy and a sugary darlin’, and plonks the bag down on your desk, goo oozing out from the seams.

“Howdy, Coop,” you greet, eying the bag with glee. As you drag it over to you, it leaves a snail-trail of ick on the wood, staining it further. You peer into the bag and confirm it's the correct bounty in your contract.

“One mutant heart, as requested,” the Ghoul says. He watches you with a faint amused smile. “Never brought the bounty straight to the agent before.”

You dump the faintly-pulsing mutant heart out on the desk. It’s overly large - much larger than a normal human’s - and gray-brown, and it spurts little gushes of blood when you poke it, so you know it’s still fresh. You’re surprised it’s still working, but that’s why you paid for the Ghoul: he gets things done quickly.

“That's because I'm the client this time.”

“Aw, you asked for me?” the Ghoul teases, only a little derisively, grinning at you. “That’s sweet.”

You roll your eyes. “I didn't ask for you - I gave the contract straight to you.”

“Straight to little ol’ me, huh?” he grins, resting his elbows on top of your desk.

Anyone else would have been shot for getting this close to you and your contract book, but you’ve always had a little bit of a soft spot for this Ghoul. It might be the flirting swaying your judgment. It might be that he’s actually fairly polite when he comes in - for a bounty hunter anyway. Regardless, you can’t deny you let him get away with more than you let the others who come in for payout.

“That’s what I said, Cooper,” you say as you duck down under your desk to retrieve a sack of caps from the safe and a case stocked with chems and rad-away. “You’re expensive, but you’re worth it. And I needed that done quickly.”

The Ghoul gestures down at the faintly thumping heart. “What’d you want with that guy anyway?”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Explains why you wanted his heart in a bag,” the Ghoul comments. He sounds vaguely impressed. “Your ex-boyfriend was a mutant with two heads.”

“Four heads if you count the two below the belt,” you reply. You hand the Ghoul the bag of caps first and the case full of chems second. “Here's your payout and a bonus for quick work.”

The Ghoul opens the case slightly and snaps it shut, apparently pleased by the way his non-existent eyebrows raise. He shoves the bag of caps and case into his shoulder bag and slings it back over his shoulder. “Much appreciated. You got anything else for me to do?”

“Plenty. Let me check the contract log.”

You reach for your book to check, but he stops you by dragging the book over to him. Truly, anyone else would have been shot. Not him. He flips open a page and runs a gloved finger down the crease in the spine, pretending to read whatever’s on the page.

The Ghoul glances up at you. “Are you in the contract log?”

You meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. “Are you telling me you want to do me, Cooper?”

“Sure am, darlin’.”

You lean back in your chair, eyeing the Ghoul where he stands. You’ve always liked his eyes. It’s the only part of him left that looks like there’s still humanity to him.

The Ghoul steps back. “But, if a ghoul’s not really your thing…”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Then what do you say?”

You pause, pretending to think, but you don’t really have to think about it. “Sure, why not?”

“You got a backroom or somethin’ or we just movin’ your book out of the way?”

You nod towards the door behind you, not that you’d be opposed to just fucking him here in the middle of your office. “Yeah, I got a backroom.”

Said backroom constitutes little more than a spare desk and chair with a window, but that’s really all you’ll need. There are no curtains for the window, so whoever walks by is going to get an eyeful of what’s going on if they peek in at the wrong time. You don’t particularly care, and the Ghoul surely doesn’t.

The hat and duster stay put as the Ghoul backs you up against the desk. He’s only a bit taller than you, but his presence takes up the remainder of the tiny, boiling hot room. The hollow, pitted flesh of his face appears raw and red, but his eyes are pretty and alert. His lips are dry and smooth against yours, raw like the rest of his skin. You don’t mind - there’s no room to be picky out in this wasteland town.

You’re not sure how he’s not miserable in the heat of the tiny room, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. In any case, you drag him closer by his belt, fisting your hand in his duster.

The Ghoul kisses you again, then strips off one of his leather gloves with his teeth and tosses it on the desk behind you. “Guess a ghoul is a step up from a mutant, at least?”

You yank his belt open and shimmy his pants down over his hips - he doesn’t let you get them down any farther. “I like ghouls.”

“Well, then, you’re a fuckin’ weirdo, ain’t ya?”

You slide down the side of the desk and hit your knees, your back pressed against the creaking wood. “Works out well for you, doesn’t it, Coop?”

His still-gloved hand wraps around the back of your neck, the leather sticking to your skin in the heat. “Sure does, darlin’.”

You take his exposed cock in hand and lick him root to tip, grinning at the hiss he gives you. His hand tightens around the back of your neck, catching in your hair. He looms over you, his unoccupied hand planted on the desk, blacking out the sides of your vision with his duster. You slide your hand down around the base of his cock and inch your lips down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks out, and he groans, low and slow, hips twitching like he's fighting the urge to just bury himself in your throat. You look up at him, wrapping your tongue around the tip of his cock, and his eyes are dark deep in the hollows of his eye sockets.

He doesn't tolerate your teasing long. No, he tangles his hand in your hair and presses himself deep down your throat until your nose is flush with his skin. You gag around him, and he grins, pulling out and thrusting back in so you'll gag on him again.

“That's it,” the Ghoul says, teetering right on the edge of breathlessness, “you take it so well.”

You punctuate his words by scraping your teeth down his shaft, which he seems to like by the way he slams himself down your throat. Your eyes water, and you can feel the tears rolling down your face as surely as you can feel sweat snaking through your hair.

“Look so good on your knees for me,” he says, threading his fingers through your hair. He catches your chin with his ungloved hand, tilting your face up with his cock still in your mouth. His thumb swipes through the tears staining your face. “Pretty as a picture.”

The backroom is only getting hotter the longer you're stuck on your knees, clothed and trapped underneath the Ghoul’s duster with him. You're sure you're soaking through your clothes by now. Your hand snakes down to undo your top and pants so you can get some relief from the heat. It doesn’t help much, but it’s enough to keep your head from swimming.

The Ghoul takes that as an indication you’re itching to take your clothes off (you are). He hauls you to your feet, picks you up, and deposits you on top of the desk, looming over you with a grin. You let him strip the rest of your shirt off and help him get your pants off of one leg. You squeeze his hips between your thighs and hook your foot around his back, pulling him flush against you.

“Take off the duster, Coop,” you say, moving to tug it down his shoulder. “It’s too hot in here for that.”

He takes the hand clutching his duster and pins it down to the desk. “I think you just want me to get naked.”

You smirk. “That, too.”

He strips off the other glove with his teeth and grips your hip. “Maybe next time, doll.”

“Aw, you wanna fuck me again - oh, fuck-”

The Ghoul doesn’t let you finish teasing him, instead thrusting into you with a rough stroke. The words get caught in your mouth, and he loves that. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Dick,” you say, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him into a breathless kiss. “Just come here.”

The Ghoul yanks you closer by the hip and wastes no time rutting into you. He can’t decide where to put his hands and runs them up your hips, your sides, grabs at your tits, before finally settling one hand around the back of your neck (seems to be his favorite place to grab you) and the other hand down in your lap so he can press his thumb to your clit. You clench around him, and that just makes him thrust into you harder, rubbing tight circles into your clit.

You’re not gonna last long - not like this. It’s hot, and he feels so good, thick and heavy in your cunt, and the way he groans in your ear and licks at your neck makes you whine.

You can tell the Ghoul is getting close to from the way his hips start to stutter, pressing deeper into you, pace quickening. He yanks your head back by your hair and latches onto your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin.

He presses his lips to your ear, “Where do you want it, doll?”

“Inside,” you reply, tightening your legs around him. “Less cleanup. And I’ve got extra radaway.”

The Ghoul takes that to heart, pounding into you until you cum with a sharp whine. It doesn’t take him long to finish after you, spilling himself deep inside you. He pulls out, cock soaked and softening slowly, but he’s not done with you. He stuffs his fingers into your cunt to keep you full, pumping in and out, and keeps pressing down on your clit with his thumb. It’s teetering violently on the edge of too much, overstimulating you, but you cum again anyway, this time harder and louder from the aftershocks ripping through you.

You drop bonelessly to the desk when he pulls his fingers out, and you watch him idly through your comedown as he licks his own fingers clean.

After a beat, you clamber up onto your elbows. “You still want another contract?”

The Ghoul adjusts himself and zips up his pants, chuckling lowly. “I just fucked you stupid and you’re talking about work.”

You grab your shirt and pull it down over your head, climb down off the desk, and set to work pulling up your pants. “Gets boring around here - gotta keep you coming back somehow.”

He snorts. “Oh, babydoll, you’ll be begging to get rid of me if you keep that up.”

“Try me.”

“I could use another contract,” he says. The slow grin that spread across his face would give anyone else chills. “Let’s see what you’ve got in your little book out there.”

#cooper howard #fallout prime #fotv #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #fallout the ghoul

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danikamariewrites · 24 days

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She Belongs To Me

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

A/n: sorry it’s been forever since I added to this little series. I think this is my favorite story I’ve written for mob!Az so far and I’m really proud of how it turned out!

Warnings: possessive Az, uncomfortable interactions with a man

Twirling once more in front of the floor length mirror you smile, your signature mini black dress hugging every curve perfectly. You pull your lipstick from your mini purse to touch up the darker shade that paints your lips. You decided to go with a clean simple look for the night. You were probably going to sweat it all off later anyway, but you still wanted to look cute for Az.

You were finally going to the club in Velaris Azriel just bought ownership in with Eris Vanserra. A new business deal between the two families. If you had tried to go to this place with Feyre and Mor before you started dating Az you would’ve been turned away at the door, but tonight you’re V.I.P’s. Not that you three ever cared about that stuff before. Just one of the few perks you get.

Azriel exited the lengthy walk-in closet you now share, sliding his usual black suit jacket on. The top buttons of his crisp white shirt undone, showing off his swirling tattoos. Popping your lips and capping the lipstick you turn to face Az, giving him a small smile. He returned your look with a smirk that conveyed his admiration and want for you.

Striding over to you Azriel holds your chin between his beautifully scarred fingers. His eyes dart over your face as they always do. Like he’s committing every part of you to his memory. “Breathtaking. You look breathtakingly beautiful as always, my love.” Azriel says softly. You smile brightly at him. Taking his other hand in yours you give it a loving squeeze. Running your thumb over the ridges of his scars.

“You look breathtakingly handsome as well, baby.” Azriel smiled bashfully, dipping his head to prevent you from seeing his obvious blush. Resting a hand against his strong chest, pushing up on your tiptoes you press a kiss to his freshly shaven jaw. You hold your lips against his skin longer than you normally would, taking in his scent and the feel of his soft skin.

Pulling away you make sure to check that you left behind a lipstick stain. Marking him as yours as he’s done for you on a o many nights. Azriel’s smile hasn’t left his lips, the want gone from his eyes and replaced with pure, unfiltered love. Without hesitating he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers. “Let’s go,” his voice airy as he pulls you out of the bedroom.

Entering the club you couldn’t help but be in awe of it. The place was nothing like the shitty college bars the three of you went to. The music was appropriately loud, a V.I.P section, a bar stocked with expensive liquor bottles with names you’ve never even heard of before. The lighting perfectly dim, bright enough to navigate your way through the crowd.

Azriel pulls you towards the V.I.P section. Climbing the platform you spot Mor and Feyre with Rhys already enjoying bottle service and a comically large plate of nachos. You notice Rhys giving Azriel a tight lipped look, like he’s not happy to give Azriel the news he’s about to deliver. Azriel slips his hand from yours, kissing your temple. “Go sit love, I’ll be right there.” He whispers.

Without another thought you throw yourself onto the booth between your friends. You start a mindless conversation, Feyre bitching and making fun of how Gavin has been acting since you left. Cassian joins you, coming in from parking the car. Feyre eyes his muscular figure. You know she’s been taken with Cass since the day he picked you up for your first date with Az. And you’ve been trying to push them together for months now, tired of the obvious flirting.

“Hello ladies,” he says seductively, “where are my brothers?” He asks, taking Feyre’s glass from her to take a swig of her drink. She lets out a dramatic gasp, reaching for her drink back. “Over there,” she giggles as Cass pokes at her.

The four of you look over to find the two having an animated conversation. You could tell Azriel was tense from the way he kept rolling his neck. Az made his way over to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, whispering, “I need to take care of some business with Eris. I’ll be back before you know it.” When he pulls back you give him a small smile and nod. He turns and Rhys follows. Cassian gives him a nod, knowing what his duties are while Azriel is away.

Cassian stood, hands clasped in front of him with that stoic ‘don’t you dare fuck with me look’. The fun, carefree boy gone. You loved pushing Cass and Rhys’s buttons when they’re acting as your bodyguards. Hiding from them in department stores, pretending to run from them. Tonight, however, was not the night for your shenanigans. Cass would never risk the girls and neither would you.

For a little over half an hour you, Mor, and Feyre enjoyed drinks and endless nachos and chicken fingers. Cassian, with his hawk like gaze, notices you looking for your waitress. “What do you want?” He asks, holding his hand out to keep you seated. You smile at his overprotective nature. “Just another drink,” you shake your empty glass at him, clinking the ice.

”I’ll get it for you.” Cassian says, desperate for you to stay put. You give him an exasperated look, “I’m a big girl, Cass. I can get it.” Before he can protest you head over to the bar for the V.I.P section.

Ordering your drink you check the time on your phone. It’s been almost an hour. Eris has never dragged a meeting on this long, even if it was urgent. Letting out a sigh you lean on the bar, tapping your manicured nails on beat with the music pulsing through the club.

A throat clearing sounds next to you, making your shoulders tense like Azriel’s when he receives unpleasant news. With lowered brows you turn to face the source of the grating noise. A man, of course, in a wrinkled button up shirt and dress pants that clearly aren’t tailored. His proximity and scent of his cologne making your nose wrinkle.

“Can I help you?” Your voice flat and uninterested. The man smirked as he leaned on the bar next to you. “Just thought I’d come say hi. I saw you with your pretty friends over there, maybe you’d like to join us.” He gestures to a booth behind yours. No drinks, so they must’ve just arrived. Being with Azriel has taught you be very perceptive of people and your surroundings. Not that your boyfriend was paranoid, he just wanted you to be able to spot danger.

You roll your eyes you look back at the man in front of you. “No thanks.” You say curtly, no longer interested in entertaining this man's delusions.

His eyes roam over your body, one of his brows rising as he smirks. The look made you want to vomit on his cheap shoes. “Come on now sweetheart,” he brushes a finger down your cheek and you quickly take two steps back, his touch slimy and foreign. His demeanor changes quickly, anger flashing across his face as he steps toward you. No must be a word he never hears, whether that be his selective hearing or not.

Out of the corner of your eye a dark mass moves with lightning speed. Gripping the man's arm Azriel twists and pins him to the sleek wooden bar. The man lets out a whimper of pain. Pathetic.

“Do you know who I am?” He growled. “Answer me,” Azriel said with more aggression, shoving the man further into the bar. “Yes,” his voice barely above a whisper thanks to how squished his face is.

“Then you know I protect what’s mine. If I ever see you in my club again you will regret it. Get out.” Azriel let go and Rhys swooped in, guiding the man and his friends to the exit before a fight could break out.

You fling yourself into Azriel’s arms, shaken by what just happened and the what ifs had Azriel not shown up. He ran a gentle hand up and down your spine, holding you tightly to his body. “It’s alright, my love. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He coos. Taking a deep inhale of his comforting, warm scent you look up at him.

“Are you alright?” He asks, worry clouding his warm hazel eyes as he takes you in. Searching his memory of you from earlier that night to make sure nothing was out of place. “I’m ok. My dark knight came to the rescue.” A genuine smile pulling at your lips as your fear melts away. The comfort of Azriel’s familiar touch washing away the memory of the unnamed man.

“Do you want to go home? I can have Cass bring the car-’’ You press your finger to his lips to stop him. “Absolutely not. I haven’t danced with you yet and we’re having fun. I’m not going to let some asshole ruin what’s supposed to be a celebration tonight.” The guilt for not being glued to your side hasn’t left Azriel’s face yet. “I promise my dear, I am fine.”

Azriel finally relaxed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry Eris kept me for so long. I’m yours for the rest of the night, I swear it, my love.” Azriel slowly kisses you. Wrapping his arm around you Az leads you back to the booth.

Sitting, he pulls you on to his lap, trapping you with his arms as he kisses and bites at your jawline. Making sure he’s marked you appropriately, the twin to your still vibrant lipstick stain decorating his tan skin.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel au #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel #mob!azriel #mob!azriel au

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doctorinvestment · 2 years

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What is Market Capitalization | Small Cap, Mid Cap & Large Cap

Irish Coffee investment tells you about the market capitalization. We are here to give you the appropriate guidance you need to begin investing through Small Cap, Mid Cap & Large Cap. Watch our short and educational movies to make money online.

#Small Cap #Mid Cap #Large Cap #investment #stock market #market capitalization

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rudrjobdesk · 2 years

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अडानी ग्रुप के शेयर ने दिया 36,683% का रिटर्न, अब इस सेक्टर में एंट्री करने जा रही कंपनी, सरकार से मिली करोड़ों रु की मदद

Adani group stock return: अडानी ग्रुप की कंपनी अडानी एंटरप्राइजेज लिमिटेड (Adani Enterprises Ltd) के शेयरों में तेजी देखने को मिल रही है। कंपनी के शेयर आज 1.16% की तेजी के साथ 2,207 रुपये पर बंद हुए। यह लार्ज-कैप स्टॉक (Large cap stock) पिछले एक साल में 45% तक बढ़ा है। इस शेयर का 52 वीक का हाई प्राइस 2,420.95 रुपये है और 52 वीक लो प्राइस 1,332.75 रुपये है। पिछले 6 महीनों में इसके शेयर की कीमत में…

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#Adani Enterprises Limited #Adani Enterprises Limited Share Price #adani group #Business News #Business News In Hindi #Copper Sector #Hindi News #Hindustan #Kutch Copper Limited #Large-cap Stock #News in Hindi #अडानी एंटरप्राइजेज लिमिटेड #अडानी ग्रुप #कच्छ कॉपर लिमिटेड #कॉपर सेक्टर #लार्ज-कैप स्टॉक #हिन्दुस्तान

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anna-hawk · 10 months

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The Eggnog Effect

Nicomund the Red | Santa Claus x F!Reader

Summary: You passed out on your friend's couch and wake up to find Santa Claus leaving a gift for your godchild.

WC: 6.2k // Explicit 🔞

Warnings: Christmas smut, bad jokes and cheesy wordplays

For @roguesandsaviors who's love for David Harbour triggered me into trying my hand at writing smut for someone else than Jon 😁

Also on AO3

You frowned as you slowly woke up, wondering about the small tinkling sound that got you out of your slumber in the first place. Cracking one eye open, you tried to make out your immediate surroundings, but your face was smushed into a pillow. A throw pillow, to be more precise.

Ever since the birth of your godchild, your best friend and husband had started asking you to spend Christmas Eve with them. How could you say no to witnessing the kid’s eyes growing big with wonder after discovering the presents lying underneath the Christmas tree?

Usually, though, you spent the night in the guest bedroom and not on the living room couch. You berated yourself for the sore neck you were likely getting from the sleeping position and grumbling internally about the long hours spent at work today that resulted in your exhaustion when you heard that noise again.

Blinking and opening both eyes now, you glimpsed some movement to the side of the couch, where you knew the Christmas tree to be. As you twisted to your back, your eyes caught onto something red and large and…

“Oh God, I really need to leave off the eggnog next time… I’m actually seeing Santa now,” you groaned and quickly rubbed over your tired eyes.

Except that there was that tinkling again, more agitated, which made you open your eyes once more only to be met by the sight of a large man standing stock still just a few feet away from you. His wide eyes stared at you with a mix of panic and annoyance.

“Oh shit,” you breathed as realization sank in, and you understood that your brain wasn’t playing tricks on you but that there was a stranger in the house and… You opened your mouth to scream, but the man was on you in a fraction of a second. A large palm covered the entire lower half of your face and stopped you from uttering any sound, while the other hand held the man up on the armrest under your head.

“Shhh,” he hissed, his eyes lifting to the entrance of the living room to check if anyone was coming, before they bore into yours.

Oddly enough, and maybe it was still the eggnog talking, you didn’t try to fight, despite the way his large frame loomed over you. You didn’t move at all, actually, as you met his gaze. The only thought going through your mind was, oh, he’s got blue eyes. You stayed in the same position for several more seconds, his eyes never leaving yours as he assessed the situation. Realizing that you weren’t going to out him, the man slowly removed his hand from you and stood. You stayed where you were, observing him curiously; the white blond curly beard and hair under an askew red and white cap, the deep red leather coat lined with white fur spanning over a wide chest and shoulders, a pair of shiny, black boots. Everything about him screamed Santa Claus, but he was also nothing like the various men playing Santa in malls and other places. Those other Santas had also never elicited such a strong response from your body, either.

“Who are you?” you breathed, mindful to keep your voice down, when really, the question should have been what are you doing here? Or, what do you want?

“Who do you think I am?” he grumbled, while you watched him glare at a small bag and rummage around in it with a frustrated expression.

Your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets when the man thrust his whole arm into the bag, and it just vanished inside, which should have been impossible given how tiny the bag was compared to his arm.

“Where the fuck is it?”

“I didn’t know that Santa swears,” you snorted at the absolutely crazy sight in front of you.

“He does when the presents aren’t where they’re fucking meant to be,” he muttered, before his face turned into a satisfied grin. “Aha.” His arm slowly came back out, followed by a large, neatly wrapped present.

You blinked in rapid succession as you took in the size of the present and the size of the bag again. Yup, something was definitely up. A bicycle, for a five-year-old or not, would never fit in that bag if something… You snorted to yourself as the word magical ran through your mind. Don’t be ridiculous, you thought to yourself. But then the man pulled out an actual scroll of parchment, which started to glow as he pulled it apart. Sitting up, you stared at the man as he scanned the contents of the scroll with a thoughtful look.

“What’s that? Your naughty and nice list?” you sniggered, while pulling your legs under you on the couch and letting your eyes drift over him appreciatively.

“Mmhm,” he replied absently, seemingly looking for something in particular.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise at his easy admittance, before you began laughing under your breath.

“Tell me, Santa. Am I on your naughty list?” You leaned your head against your palm and rested your elbow on the armrest, smirking as you drawled the word naughty.

“Nope,” he answered instantly, while your flirty expression went completely unseen since he still didn’t look at you.

You frowned curiously at his reply and tilted your head to one side before slowly getting up and approaching him. This, at least, seemed to catch his attention because his eyes snapped to you as soon as you moved. He watched you with a slight frown. Curious.

“You sure?” you grinned.

This was all absolutely crazy. There was a fucking stranger in your friends’ house, pretending to be Santa and looking damn fine in that role, yet here you were, flirting outrageously with him anyway, when flirting usually felt awkward to you. The eggnog definitely was at play here.

He chuckled and said your name. Your full name, which had you stopping dead in your tracks as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“You’ve never been on the naughty list once,” he finished with a shrug.

“How… Who…”

How could he know your name? If he were a burglar, he’d probably only know your friends’ names since they were on the mailbox. He could have looked them up and seen your name popup in your best friend’s feeds on social media, but to what end? He’d just left a goddamn bike for your godchild instead of taking something. And that bag? That wasn’t a trick.

The man sighed deeply. “Adults,” he muttered, before thinking for a second. “Do you remember what you wished for on Christmas when you were eight?”

Taken aback by the question, you frowned and thought for a second before memories hit you, and you nodded as you opened your mouth to reply. Except that he said the same thing as you did at the exact same time as you. You took in a sharp breath of surprise. How could he know that? It was far too specific to be a random guess. Only if…

“So what are you going to do when you leave? Pull a Men In Black and wipe my memory or something?” You crossed your arms with a chuckle as your brain accepted the crazy truth.

He snorted and shrugged. “Trust me, the very few people who have actually seen me have never talked about me. And if they did,” he trailed off with another meaningful shrug that clearly said, who’s gonna believe them?

You nodded faintly at his logic. He wasn’t wrong.

“I’m curious, though… What’s your actual name? Santa? Kris? Nick?” You headed to where your godchild had left the cookies and milk and picked up the plate with the cookies. You chose one for yourself and offered one to… Santa.

He took a cookie but didn’t look away from you, his head shaking in amusement a second later.

“Really? Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you wanna know?”

You shrugged and bit off a piece of cookie, the man doing the same before he glanced down at it with an appreciative sound and nod, then looked into your expectant face again.

“You can call me whatever you want. The list is pretty long.”

“But none of them are correct,” you surmised, watching him reach for the milk glass and taking a large gulp. “How about… Daddy Christmas?”

You had to hold back your loud laugh as he sprayed his mouthful all over his front at your words. He tried to cough as silently as he could and shot you a death glare as you stood there with a satisfied grin on your face.

“Am I on the naughty list yet?”

His nostrils flared as he wiped crumbs and milk off his beard and coat before he stalked over towards you until he was in your face.

“You should be more careful with what you wish for, girl,” he growled, yet instead of feeling threatened, you felt more than turned on.

“Oh? What are you gonna do? Give me your big lump of coal?” you breathed, loving how big and tall he was.

Santa blinked at you once, twice, then burst into laughter, which had you smiling broadly.

“Gotta admit, this was a new one.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but something chimed close by, which had him checking his watch. “Fuck!”

Picking up two other cookies, he headed towards the fireplace and lifted a finger to his nose, sparks firing as he did so, but then he looked back at you.

“Nicomund,” he said softly, which had your eyes widen at the revelation of his name.

He smiled and pressed his gloved finger against his nose.

“Merry Christmas.”

He was gone in a swish of golden sparks a second later.

One year later

Dressed in a festive pair of pajamas, you yawed widely as you looked at the clock sitting in the midst of Christmas decorations on the mantelpiece. You stretched your arms over your head and shook your head to try fending the sleepiness off.

You were back at your friends’ house and sitting on the same couch as last year. Last year, when you’d met the actual Santa Claus. You’d spent weeks doing research on the origins of Christmas, yet none of the results had been conclusive in any form. You’d guessed that people truly didn’t usually see him like he’d told you. After a while, you almost wanted to believe that the whole thing had only been a dream, coming from too much eggnog and sleep-deprivation. Except that he’d given you his name. Nicomund. You couldn’t have dreamed that up. The name had actually given you some vague results as you’d given it in. Nicomund the Red, a former viking warrior. Who was supposed to have lived over a thousand years ago. Considering what you’d witnessed, you didn’t even think it that farfetched that they could be one and the same person. The way he’d talked had clearly hinted at the fact that he’d been doing this for a very long time. He knew who you were. Even as a child. Yet, he didn’t look older than his late forties or early fifties.

As much as you enjoyed loosing yourself in fantasies in books and so on, you considered yourself as a pragmatic person in real life. You liked facts and magic, while a fun concept, had never seemed like something real. And yet… After what you’d seen…

That’s why you wanted to stay awake on Christmas Eve. Prove that you hadn’t actually dreamed everything up. And you might have also wanted to see him again, just because. It was ridiculous. You hadn’t been able to go on a date the whole past year, Nicomund popping up in your head at random times. The way you’d felt attracted to him had left you reeling. He’d been in full Santa gear, yet all you’d been able to see were his blue eyes, his large frame and drawling deep voice, the combination lighting your entire body up.

Your eyes drifted to the clock again, watching the time slowly approach one in the morning. Resting your head against the couch, you closed your eyes and sighed. A very comfortable bed was waiting for you just down the hall, and your body wanted nothing more than to sink into it and sleep after the long day you’d had again. But what if you missed him? Your fingers curled around a folded up piece of paper resting on your lap. Just in case, you’d written him a note, requesting him to wake you up if you were to fall asleep. With your eyes still closed, you smirked to yourself at the few lines you’d written. Maybe you could tell him yourself later. You would open your eyes in a second. You were just resting them a bit.

Weren’t you supposed to be asleep for Santa to show up?

The next thing you heard was a loud and excited scream coming from close by, having you jerk awake in your bed… Bed? Sitting up quickly, you realized that you were lying in the guest bedroom. When had you moved there? The last thing you remembered was that you’d been sitting on the couch and fiddling with the note. The thought of the note had you looking all around yourself and the floor, yet there was nothing there. Quickly getting up and slipping into a pair of warm slippers, you almost ran to the living room to look for the note. The only thing you found was your godchild gushing about the presents sitting under the tree, your friends standing around him with broad smiles.

“Merry Christmas,” they called at nearly the same time as they saw you walk in.

Tearing your eyes away from the couch and the floor, you schooled your features into a bright smile and replied in kind, hugging the couple and then kneeling to do the same to their kid. You helped rip into the wrappings and forced yourself to focus on what was going on around you.

As the day went on, you never found the note, but you were still absolutely certain that Nicomund had been the one to get you into bed. You might have been exhausted, but you would have remembered it if you’d gotten up to go to bed on your own. Disappointment shot through you at the realization that you wouldn’t get the chance to see him again until the next year. If at all.

Later that same day, you had dinner with your family, which served to take your mind off things for several hours. It wasn’t until later that night and once you’d returned to your place well after midnight and gotten ready for bed, that you sighed dejectedly again. In your pajamas and leaning against the counter of the open kitchen that looked into the living room, you slowly sipped water from a glass when your fireplace made a sputtering noise. Frowning, you put the glass down behind you and walked into the living room, only to yelp in surprise when golden sparks appeared and formed into the shape of a man a few feet away from you.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, eyes wide and heart racing.

Nicomund met your gaze and smirked at your gobsmacked expression.

“Merry Christmas,” he rumbled.

Your mouth moved silently as your eyes slowly took in his appearance. Gone were the red coat and hat, instead he was wearing a loose, off-white colored shirt and had his hair pulled up in a messy bun, showing off more of his handsome face. The V in the shirt’s neckline revealed the beginning of circular tattoos with what appeared to be runes. All the air rushed out of your lungs at the whole sight. He definitely wasn’t Santa right now, meaning that it really wasn’t the outfit that did it for you, since you were getting even more turned on than the previous year.

“What are you doing here?” you croaked, your mind having a hard time realizing that he was standing in your living room. “Christmas is over.”

“It is, yeah… I thought you wanted to see me.” He put his bare hands into the pockets of his red pants and tilted his head at you.

Your eyebrows lifted at that. “Why didn’t you wake me up then?” you muttered, pursing your lips slightly.

“Not enough time,” he answered easily, eyeing you slowly.

“For what?” you breathed, swallowing at the way he was staring at you. The way he'd said it hinted at more than just him running behind schedule.

“I got your note,” he said instead, and pulled the neatly folded paper out of one of his pockets, scanning it lazily after unfolding it. “You got real creative.” He lifted his gaze to yours briefly, the eye contact and implications of his words having heat rushing to your face.

Biting over your bottom lip and taking strength in the knowledge that he came to find you once he’d been done with delivering presents, you grinned at him cheekily.

“You said that I was never on your naughty list, so I figured that I could get a reward for having been such a good girl over the years.”

You took a step closer to him, seeing him watching you attentively, expression unreadable.

“And that’s what you had in mind?” His eyes went back to your note. “Dear Santa, I’ve been particularly good this year. Please let me play with your Christmas ornaments and suck on your candy cane. And while Santa Claus is coming to town, I’ll be sure to show how good I can go to town on Santa Claus. And please don’t forget to stuff my Christmas stockings with your big present. Hoe, hoe, hoe, Merry Christmas.”

Hearing him read the note out loud in that husky drawl had all the heat from your face rushing down your body. You couldn’t even feel the slightest bit of embarrassment at your silly wordplay, especially when you could see the corner of his mouth pulling up as he read, while his voice deepened by the end. His eyes lifted to yours once he was done, before he let them travel over your body. Slowly, taking all of you in, his blue eyes dark in the half light cast by the living room lamp. Your lips parted as soft pants left your mouth, your heart rate picking up at his intense perusal.

“May I have my Christmas present now?” you breathed after taking a step closer and leaving you only a few inches away from him.

He huffed out an amused laugh, but you didn’t miss the way he lightly leaned towards you, his large chest moving up and down faster.

“Show me how good you can be,” he rumbled, as he let go of the note, which fluttered to the floor.

As you reached for his face with one of your hands, you caught his surprised expression when your fingers gently ran along his bearded jaw and towards the back of his head to pull him towards your mouth. Considering the low sound he made as your lips met, he had nothing against kissing, he seemed more surprised by your gentle touch, that you wanted more than just something frenzied and fast. But you did want. Corny and over the top sexual Christmas wordplay aside, you really wanted the man. All of him.

Slipping your tongue along his while slightly pulling at his hair, Nicomund growled and pushed into you, his hands moving into action as they travelled around your waist and down to your ass. His beard tickled deliciously around your mouth as he kissed you back fiercely. The first physical proof of his arousal pressed against you, making your breath catch at the size you could feel. Taking a step back away from him, you quickly found his eyes as you sunk to your knees before him. Nicomund’s breath came in short pants as his dark eyes watched you lifting your hands to the fastenings of his red pants. You took your time pulling the golden buttons from their respective holes, while you could see his erection straining the fabric just below. After you were done, you tugged the pants and underwear down enough to reveal his length. Unable to keep your eyes away, you finally looked at his gorgeous cock, proudly standing away from his body, the head red and shiny with pre-come.

“As red as Rudolf’s nose,” you muttered lightly, almost to yourself, except that Nicomund heard every word.

“Fuck, you’re terrible. Don’t make me change my mind,” he grumbled, sounding between amused and exasperated.

Slipping out of the top half of your pajamas to reveal your breasts, you glanced up at him with a smirk.

“You really wanna stop, Daddy Christmas?” you teased, right before leaning forward to lick up a long stripe from the base to the top of his cock.

His body went rigid at the touch, while he groaned. Suddenly, one of his hands was in your hair, the fingers sliding against your scalp and moving your head up, so you had no choice but to look at him. A long moan slipped free from you at the treatment, which had Nicomund grinning in satisfaction.

“You’re not really being a good girl right now, y’know. Bein’ a lil tease and all. Thought you wanted to show me how good you can be.” His voice was low and washed over you in a delicious wave, stoking your lust further.

Nodding instead of replying verbally, you let your mouth fall open and your tongue peek out in invitation. Nicomund hummed, pleased, and guided you towards his cock.

“There we go,” he rasped, as he slowly slid over your tongue, stretching your lips with his girth.

Once he was as far as you could manage without gagging, he stopped moving. His hand remained in your hair, but he neither pushed nor pulled, waiting for you to decide what to do next. You kept him like this for as long as was comfortable before you slowly drew back and gently suckled over the head, while you wrapped your fingers around him. Nicomund groaned as you angled his cock up for you to tongue and suck under the head, teasing the sensitive nerves. You took your time sucking all over him, savoring the sounds you could get out of him, your body heating whenever he cursed under his breath when you did something he particularly enjoyed.

Listening to his breaths picking up speed and feeling his hips jerking as he got closer to release, you were surprised when he gently removed you off him with the same hand as before. Lifting your head since you had expected – wanted – him to come in your mouth, you gazed at him in confusion. He reached for one of your arms and pulled you to your feet before he was kissing you hungrily. Which you didn’t mind in the slightest, as you folded your arms around his chest to answer in kind, your nipples hardening as they rubbed against the material of his shirt.

“Wanna be inside you,” he admitted roughly, talking against your mouth.

You keened in the back of your throat and nodded fervently. How could you not want that?

“Yes,” you hissed, kissing him deeply.

“Bed?” he rasped, and it took your brain a second to get your body to move.

“Yeah, okay.” You took his hand and pulled him out of the living room and towards your bedroom.

Inside the room, Nicomund drew you back to him for a quick kiss before he bent over to pull down your pajama pants and get them off you. You clutched at his shoulders as he divested you of the clothes.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he ordered, having your move instantly.

You observed him through hooded eyes and pressed your legs together at the tingle of anticipation running through your core as you watched him undress. You would have loved to do it for him, but this gave you the opportunity to let your eyes feast on him as he revealed his tattooed body, the shirt falling to the floor. He was large and strong, but with a softness around his belly that had your fingers prickling with the desire to touch. His hair was a mess of curls, in and out of the hairband holding it back. You expected him to remove the rest of his clothes and stared into his face questioningly when he didn’t, only to realize that he was already watching you. Stepping towards you and making you spread your legs for him to stand between them, Nicomund towered over you as he gazed down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Thought you might want me to keep them on. So you don’t forget who exactly is fucking you.”

Your whole body heated with lust and embarrassment alike. You wanted to open your mouth to explain that you didn’t have a Santa kink, that you’d never thought of Santa in that way, but after the jokes you’d made, you couldn’t fault him for teasing you about it. Only, you didn’t care who he was. You’d have wanted him the same way had he been the Sandman, or just a normal man as well. And to be honest, having him almost fully clothed while you were naked was also turning you on.

“Is it time for your big present, then?” You bit over your bottom lip as you stared up at him with a hopeful expression.

Chuckling, Nicomund leaned down to your eye level.

“Not yet,” he hedged, and knelt between your legs. “First I gotta get a taste of your…” He thought for a second. “Cookie.”

Your eyes widened at the unexpected wordplay and what it meant. He didn’t give you the time to further react as he grabbed your hips to pull them halfway over the edge of the bed and sink between your legs. You barely had the time to catch yourself with your hands behind you on the bed at the first swipe of his tongue over your wet folds. Crying out at the hotness of his tongue combined with the soft scratching of his beard on your sensitive skin, you fought to keep your eyes open to watch him. Heat ran through you at the way he so clearly took pleasure in eating you out. He took his time doing it too, at first only giving you broad licks that didn’t hold that much strength and mostly served to wind you slowly up as his tongue became more precise. Your eyes fluttered, and you panted once he began using the tip of his tongue to run maddening circles around your exposed clit. As you were getting louder and louder the stronger the pressure of his tongue became, Nicomund suddenly stopped and, instead, focused his attention on your inner thighs, kissing and teasing his beard across your skin. Your legs quivered from the change of pace, and you wanted nothing more than to bring his head back to where it had been. He seemed content to keep torturing you, however, and you knew in that moment that you would be dealing with beard burn the next day.

“Nicomund… please?” you breathed on a whimper, gazing down at him and catching his eye as he looked up at you without stopping his ministrations.

Your expression seemed to trigger something in him because his mouth and tongue were back on your clit in the next second. You had to throw your head back at the explosive pleasure shooting through you as his lips surrounded that little bundle of nerves, and he sucked on it enthusiastically. You screamed in bliss and tangled your fingers in his hair, silently begging him to stay right there. From the way he growled, he had no intention of going anywhere anyway. He pressed his thumbs into your thighs, pushing your legs further open and pulling your folds apart as his mouth ripped more and more delirious sounds from you. As two of his fingers slowly sank into you and curled up to start fucking you, your whole body wrapped over his head, your orgasm hitting you with such intensity that your legs locked against Nicomund’s shoulders.

While you were slowly coming back to yourself, Nicomund kissed his way up your mound, hip and belly, his soft touches making your body shake with more than just the aftershocks, your entire body feeling sensitized. When he reached your stomach, you cupped his head with your hands and leaned down to kiss him deeply. His beard was damp, while his lips still tasted like you, having a new shiver of desire going through you. Nicomund grunted into your mouth as he knelt up, curling one arm around your waist while the other held him up behind your back. Without ever breaking the kiss, he got to his feet and leaned over you until you were almost lying on the bed. You moved up the bed with his help, just enough for him to get his knees on the mattress and pull your legs over his thighs properly. Meanwhile, your hands took their time exploring his body, running all over his back and sides, reveling in his size and comforting weight on top of you. Your fingers encountered a few scares as they went, bringing the reminder of your research back to mind. Only fights and battles could explain the size and placements of some of them. And then there were the tattoos. Santa Claus was an ancient Viking warrior. The concept was absolutely wild, but you put the wayward thought to the side in favor of focusing on the whole man on top of you.

Nicomund lifted his head a few inches and held himself over you to look into your face. He was breathing hard, sweat starting to form at his temples, his eyes traveling between your lips and eyes. You looked at him dazedly and smiled before lifting your head, keeping your eyes open, to press your mouth against his. You repeated the action a few more times, seeing his chest rise and fall faster each time.

“Are you going to make me beg again?” you whispered, your lips grazing his.

He chuckled and stroked a thick thumb over your jaw.

“Please, Santa, pour your milk all over my-”

His mouth crashed into yours, effectively shutting you up, but unable to stop you from giggling.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he growled, shifting on top of you.

“But cookies always need – oh fuck!”

This time, his method was more convincing, as he used your momentarily distraction while you teased him to line up with your entrance and push inside you in one long and powerful slide.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and threw your head back as he had you crying out with each snap of his hips, his length making you feel as full as you’d wished for. Nicomund mouthed around your jawline, grunting into your skin as he thrust into you repeatedly. Leaning your head forward again, you drew his mouth in for an open-mouthed kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, trying to give back as much as you could in your position. It seemed to be enough for him, since he slammed into you harder, groaning as you moaned even louder while your inner walls pulsed around him.

“Feel so good,” you moaned, your voice breathy and high-pitched, your legs curling over his thighs as extreme pleasure unfurled inside you again.

“Fuck,” he gritted out roughly, staring down at you with burning eyes. “You gonna come for me again?”

You nodded. “Please? Nicomund… Please!”

You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of this man on top of you, making you feel needy like never before. With his large frame, glistening with sweat and strong arms holding him up at your sides as his hips drove you higher and higher, piercing blue eyes roving over your face.

“Yeah, come on, go ahead. Been such a good girl for me. Such a good-”

His words cut off as you exploded around him at the praise, a long wail of ecstasy coming through your mouth, before you pulled his mouth back onto yours for a desperate kiss. After several more thrusts, Nicomund groaned as one of his hands shifted to your hair and formed a fist in it. He tugged at it to expose your jaw to breathe against it as he fucked in and out of you at a fast pace. Still overwhelmed by your second orgasm, you let him move you the way he needed and only linked your arms tightly around his shoulders, small, pleasured whimpers leaving you. When he came, his whole body shuddered over yours, his hips jerking repeatedly as he emptied himself inside you with a long groan.

Neither of you moved as you simply rested for a few minutes, savoring the afterglow while you gently combed your fingers through his hair.

“Mmh… this was definitely worth waiting a whole year for,” you mumbled sleepily, the long day catching up to you at last.

Nicomund chuckled warmly and raised his head from where it had been resting against your shoulder. You grinned up at him and stroked your fingers along his beard before letting them trail down his shoulders, your eyes following their path, as he moved further up.

“Nicomund the Red,” you muttered quietly, swirling an index over a circular tattoo on his chest. They were all gorgeous and reached down to both of his arms.

You felt him go still under your hands and met his stunned gaze. You smiled softly, keeping up your exploration.

“I like research,” you explained with a small shrug. “Didn’t find much, really, but I couldn’t…” You looked away from his face.

“Couldn’t what?” he asked in a quiet rumble.

“You read the note, Nicomund… I didn’t start thinking about writing it only yesterday,” you hedged.

This was as much as you wanted to reveal about how often you’d thought about him this past year. Sure, you’d been attracted to him from the get go and had fun with all the wordplay, but you’d also been genuinely intrigued by him.

Nicomund didn’t say anything for a beat, but then shifted your bodies until he was slipping out of you and rolling you to your side to face him.

He cleared his throat. “Well… I was kinda wondering if you’d be at your friends’ again.”

You uttered a small, happy laugh at his admittance and closed your eyes. The feeling only lasted a moment as you realized that he wouldn’t be staying, however. Nicomund was still Santa Claus, for crying out loud. Your smile turned sad as you fully realized that this couldn’t go anywhere. Opening your eyes and staring at his chest, you kept tracing the tattoos quietly, thinking.

“Will you come back next year?” you finally brought yourself to ask, your eyes still downcast.

A warm palm stroked over your jaw and tilted your head up to meet warm blue eyes.

“Only if you stay off the naughty list,” he said, going for humor to lift the suddenly heavier mood, but his smile was slightly off.

You couldn’t help but snort anyway and gave him a small smile, the implications of his comment clear. You’d always been on the nice list, so surely…

“No promises,” you whispered, having him huffing out a small laugh this time, while his fingers ran along the back of your neck in a wonderfully soothing way.

Your eyes slowly fell close, your fingers stopping their path on his skin as his touch lulled you to sleep. You were completely unable to fight it and soon, the last thing you felt were soft lips on your forehead.

With no surprise, you were alone the next morning.

One week later.

Two hours past the new year, after your friends had left, and you’d put the night’s dinner leftovers in the fridge, you sank onto the couch with a glass of eggnog. You stared at the liquid with bleary eyes, smiling to yourself as you thought of Nicomund. It was a bittersweet thought, but you tried to keep any sadness away whenever you thought of him. Still slightly tipsy, you berated yourself for missing the opportunity to make a bad joke with eggnog. Maybe you should write it in next Christmas’ note. You could already see him rolling his eyes at you and grinned.

Taking a sip and leaning your head back over the couch, you let your mind drift to the moment when you’d been lying face to face, his hands in your hair.

A whoosh of air suddenly went through the living room, having you gasp and sit upright again. Your mouth fell open at the now familiar golden sparks coming through the fireplace. A few seconds later, you were looking into Nicomund’s face.

“Happy new year?” he rumbled tentatively.

Standing and looking at your glass, you put it down on the coffee table and tilted your head at him.

“I should really, really leave off the eggnog,” you said as you approached him. “I’m starting to see Santa at New Year.”

“Maybe you’ll see me at Easter too,” he smirked, leaning towards you as you cupped his face to kiss him.

#Nicomund x reader #violent night #santa x reader #reader insert #violent night fanfiction #david harbour #christmas smut #yes I'm aware it's August 🤣

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beansprean · 6 months

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I just think she's neat

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Knees up of the Guide in her maid uniform from s5e6 Urgent Care: a knee-length white smock over a knee-length black dress with a turtleneck, turned-up white cuffs at the elbows, starched white collar, elbow-length black leather gloves, black tights, black heels, and a scalloped white kerchief on her head. Her hair is pulled into a low bun at the base of her neck and she is posing with a big smile at the viewer, holding a silver tray with a single ornate goblet in both hands and one foot popped up cutely behind her. 2. Full body of the Guide, hair gathered up in a large loose bun with several curly strands falling free, wearing Yvette's maid outfit from Clue (1985): a short black dress with a poofy skirt, long sleeves, and a revealing Queen Anne neckline, white ruffles decorating the bust and wrists; a small white apron tied around her waist, a black choker at her neck, fishnet stockings, black peep-toe heels with a bow, and a white doily hat pinned to her head. She is smiling coyly at the viewer, leaning forward with one leg straight and the other cocked flirtatiously, both arms held down and braced on her knee to push her breasts together. 3. Full body of the Guide, hair half-up in a small bun, wearing a party city style sexy maid costume: a short black dress with a deep v neck and poofy mutton sleeves, white ruffles at the cuffs and underneath the equally poofy miniskirt; a white apron with a frilly hem tied at the waist and behind the neck, ruffled sleeves covering her shoulders; a small ruffled cap, a tattoo black lace choker, black leather half palm gloves, white thigh high stockings with black lace trim and suspenders, and black slingback heels. The Guide winks at the viewer with a smile, posing with one leg cocked flirtatiously, one hand on her hip, and the other holding up her thumb and first two fingers. The background is mottled reddish-pink. /end ID

#wwdits #the guide #the guide wwdits #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described

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uaecompany · 2 years

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youtube

#Mohit Munjal Youtube #HDFC Large #Mutual Funds #Mid Cap Funds #Mutual Funds Review #Stockmarket #Directusinvestments #finance #directusinvestments #mohitmunjalyoutube #mohit munjal #service #stock market #investor #Youtube

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blingblong55 · 5 months

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Merry little Christmas-141

Photo credits:(twitter/X) @/bigmikemw

A/N: Have yourself a merry little Christmas -Kasper <3

---- GN!Reader, platonic!relationship? fluff/comfort? ----

After so much loss, blood, tears and sweat, Task Force 141 found themselves in a cabin, a Christmas tree decorated, a fireplace lit and much laughter filled the room. The once empty and cold cabin now hosted the fond memory. It was the night before Christmas when not a soldier was awoken by night terrors, not even a gun used to inflict harm; the camouflaged stockings were hung by the Chimney with care, in hope that peace would soon be brought to their lives; The soldiers all nestled in their beds; Smoke from cigars now gone as even the eldest of them all slept well.

By morning, the soldiers woke up, Gaz, Price, Soap, Ghost and R/N and to their surprise, Kate Laswell had gifts that greeted them all. Price sat int he sofa first, Soap and Gaz smiling like they won the war. Ghost and R/N walked in with mugs for all to have and through the early morning, they read the letter that sat upon the chimney, opened gifts and smiled to know someone out there thought of them with care.

Gaz received a new hat, multiple actually, one that was happily decorated with the word 'Soccer' the same one he would wear to taunt his best mate for some time. Soap received a football signed and dedicated to him from his favourite team and a letter from his family back home. This of course brought the young soldier to tears as he smiled at the letters his mother so lovingly wrote for him. R/N, received a letter as well, written by Laswell, thanking the young soldier for their sacrifice when they helped Laswell in some past operation and then, the small box held a mask, made just for them. "Just like the one I lost." You recall a past operation, losing a mask and also losing part of yourself. "To the memory of the late R/N and here's to the new R/N, may they live forever." The embroidery read.

Ghost, receiving archived photos of his family, tea bags and Kentucky Bourbon. He chuckles as he remembers sharing a drink with Laswell many years ago and how he found himself sharing his life with her and Price. He holds the bottle, staring at it and smiling, someone remembered him. Price laughs, two boxes of cigars, all from the brand he adores and hidden behind a mug that read, "Soccer lover." He groans a laugh and shows it to Gaz who laughs and shows him the cap that was given to him. "Don't dare," Price points a finger only to have Gaz laugh, "I'm not missing a chance to wear this and annoy you." Now, Price has a gift idea for Gaz's birthday.

A knock on the door and when opened, they find Santa herself, wearing a Christmas hat and her wife behind her. "Good morning, hope you are all hungry for some homemade meal?" She shows the large trays of food, made the night before and for this occasion only. Kate's children run around, playing with the young soldiers as Price helps the two ladies with the table. "You didn't have to, Kate." She shakes her head, "Nonsense, you five deserve this and take it as a thank you for what you and the team have done for me." Kate's wife passes by Price, "Trust me, just take the food and eat, she won't take no for an answer."

Kate sighs, "Just eat, trust me, Martha Stewart helped me make this meal." "The book did, honey," Kate's wife corrects her from the kitchen. "What she said." Price chuckles, "Might as well do that." Throughout the cabin, the children ran around, showing off what Santa had brought them the night before to the young soldiers. Gaz and Soap are stuck playing with Nerf guns and the occasional Barbie break. R/N ran around the dining table, chasing the youngest child of Laswell. "Never seen Ghost so…happy and excited," Price mentions as he observes Ghost have a tea party with plushies and the little girl of Laswell.

"I think this is the first time he likes someone else's tea," Price jokingly says and watches Ghost get a fake tiara on his head. The little girl giggles any time Ghost pretends the tea is too hot and he sighs in relief when her younger brother plays doctor and helps Ghost with the pain.

And now, it is safe to say that for the first time in their lives, they have a photograph that celebrates how for a moment, war stopped, smiling all genuinely portrayed and all in Christmas sweaters as the photo was taken. 'Christmas of '23, TF 141 and The Laswells' the photo has written on the bottom. At this moment, is commemorates a new tradition, Christmas dinners at that cabin, where life is peaceful.

To the team, Thank you for your help and support in operations I have given throughout the years. It is my understanding you all will share a cabin this Christmas and in classic fashion, I have sent gifts for you to open the morning of December twenty-fifth. Times haven't been the greatest to you all but I promise that for at least this very moment, you shall be granted time to care for the other. It is also my understanding that you all consider yourself a family, which is why, by the time you read this letter, you'll get a knock on the door by the very family that considers you all a part of their family. And for all that I love, watch your words amongst my kids, all of you.

May you have a merry little Christmas, Kate Laswell.

Tags:

@eicee @loviie-stuff @liyanahelena @cinnamon-cola @sadieesssss @kitschaosden @wrathofcats @johfaam0 @frazie99 @spicypicklesoh @vampsquerade @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @saoirse06 @ikohniik

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amateurduhhh · 8 months

Text

What About Me | Harvey x Reader

Summary: A story about how Pelican Town's bus revamp sends Harvy into a world of worry with the farmer.

Content warnings: injury

It was a calm evening in Pelican Town. Closing time was nearing, but Harvey always stood by for any emergencies that may need to be addressed. That was part of the glory that came with living above his practice.

"Okay, Dr. Harvey, I just clocked out, I'm gonna head home now!" Maru declared.

"Alrighty, see you!"

He leaned back in a desk chair, filing paperwork and checking inventory. In a quiet town like Pelican Town, it was relatively uncommon for anyone to need something when he wasn't open. Occasionally, the farmer would pass out in the middle of god-knows-where and that horizon would only be expanded by the new bus repair that was somehow managed.

Harvey didn't mind helping you out. In fact, he found it amusing at first. He understood it may have been hard to fully understand the body's limits with the work experience of an office worker. It was just something to scoff and roll his eyes at. What a silly farmer, he thought.

That is until it became more frequent. It took a copious amount of begging and guidance to improve your habits. Harvey even informed you of the purple mushrooms, starfruit, magma caps and nutritious meals that might keep you in good shape while monsters tear at your flesh. As a result of your constant accidents, he made sure to keep his elixirs extra stocked. He only hoped that the distance from the Calico Desert and Ginger Island from Stardew Valley would encourage you to be safer.

A shrill ring from his phone blared next to him. He sighed and picked up the receiver, holding it to the side of his face. Regretfully, Harvey never even glanced at the number who called. Never did he expect it to be dispatch, calling in about an emergency trauma situation.

"Emergency? How bad is it?" Harvey stood up, and scrambled through the building to prepare for the patient. "Uh- y-yeah, bring ‘em in... I have the supplies."

He prepared an operation room as fast as he could.

The emergency door burst open, and two people propelled a bright yellow stretcher to his operation room. The person was unconscious and blood sprouted out of their arm in sync with their heartbeat. "Patient was found in the Skull Cavern mines of Calico Desert. Patient is hypotensive and we can't find a pulse. We believe they suffered blunt force trauma to the chest. We recorded several medial lacerations on their left arm. There is atrial hemorrhaging–"

"I can see that!" He said. Harvey, examined the patient, his eyes catching sight of the face, causing his stomach to lurch and anger to set in his chest. In his residency, he was always good at handling the sight of blood, broken bones, and organs. It was never an issue. Until they had come from you. It wasn't something he could prepare for. The sight had caused a rock to form in his stomach.

"What the hell," he breathed out in white-hot rage. Harvey was fuming. "Why hadn't you put a tourniquet on their arm yet!"

"Doctor," the paramedic's voice was worried. "Patient's heart rhythm..!"

Harvey's eyes widened at the monitor. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was no other option than to remain calm.

"Sinus Tachycardia. Shit, the hemothroax is making her heart tamponade. Get me an eighteen gauge needle, I need to get the fluid out of their chest, ASAP."

"I'll prep the EGC first!" A paramedic offered.

"I don't have time for an ECG, dammit!" Harvey snapped. The paramedics scrambled at his outlash for his request.

He felt his nerves explode and knew it was for the worst. Panic made his hands sweat and slick underneath the latex gloves he wore. There was a great tightening in his chest like a furnace of hellfire every time his eyes dared glimpse at yours.

The paramedics prepared the entry site and handed Harvey a large needle. Now he knew he had to get it together. He drew in a sharp, deep breath. To calm his nerves he thought it was good you were unconscious to spare you the image of the largest needle you'd ever seen plunge into your chest.

The thin needle glided through to your flesh, without any navigation Harvey bore the task with nothing but intuition, until the needle penetrated the pericardium. Behind him, one Paramedic had their back turned, unable to watch this infinite medical wager. A true test of a gut feeling.

Sweat slid down Harvey's forehead when he felt the needle had found the pericardium. He steadily lifted the syringe, the paramedic watching it fill with blood while Harvey had his eyes on the heart monitor. A great flood gate of stress opened and deposited his mind to see your heart rhythm steady.

After the surgery, and the departure of the paramedics, Harvey remained slumped against the hospital wall. It took a while for him to work up the energy to be upset. First, he was thankful, second, he was angry. He decided to wait until you woke up to be angry.

Days passed since the surgery.

As of now, he stood weakly beside your bed, he had a tight grip on your hand. His brownish locks swept messily over his eyes, dangling like vines in front of his glasses that slid down his nose. He was no longer wearing his white lab coat and the sleeves of his button down were rolled up, his necktie was nowhere to be seen.

After shock exhaustion hit him hard– something he experience a lot during his career but even harder since it was you on the operating table.

Harvey began coming up with random grievances, many of them being very valid. Like why is there no medical center near a very dangerous mine, let alone a desert. And why must you always venture alone? Especially without telling anyone? Why didn't you think things through before going down there?

A soft groaning sound came from your mostly motionless form. All except your eyelids remained still. A sudden wave of fatigue and a bone chilling pain all over made it almost impossible to move without wanting to die.

"Har... vey...?" you muttered, slightly craning your head to the side. He was just in the corner of your vision. His flustered face in all of its glory.

Harvey's physician instincts kicked in and began checking your vitals as well as asking you questions. "Do you know what day it is?"

"'s it the seventh of sp...ring?" you recalled.

"Where do you live?"

"Stardew Valley."

"Do you know my name?"

"Harvey."

"Now last question," said Harvey, a little irritated. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

It took you a moment to reply. The question didn't quite sound like it had an answer. You opened your mouth to answer but nothing came out.

"What?" you said, tensing up a little.

"I've lost count of how many times I've asked you to please be careful." His tone was desperate and distraught. You didn't pick up on the sincerity of his voice, being too involved in the pain in your side.

As soon as you realized what this was about, all the tension in your shoulders deflated. You rolled your eyes and sighed. "Come on Harvey. I'm going to be okay."

"You don't know that," he stressed. There was a hot anger in his tone that sent tendrils of worry down your spine. "So stop acting like your skin is made of platinum. You don’t even realize it, but you may just be the luckiest person in the Ferngill Republic! This isn't the first time you came into my clinic an inch away from death and every goddamn time... I don't know if you're going to make it."

You frowned. "Now... wait a minute..." Everytime this happened you saw the way Harvey's jaw locked, waiting for you to go home from his emergency surgery so he could break down over the fact he'd have to do it again.

He felt like his soul was becoming too big for his body, like a shaken Joja Cola threatening to burst. All he could do was tremble with desperation and anger. "You can't go back to Skull Cavern... and don’t think I don’t know about your little ventures into the Ginger Island volcano, hell, even the local mines-- you’ve lost your fucking mind-- you can't--."

You felt indignant. "That isn't your call Harvey." Even in your most vulnerable state, you stood your ground. It made sense to Harvey why you always ventured out into danger. "I can't believe you would even suggest that... that's so... selfish!"

"Maybe it is," he argued.

"What about my job, I make money by doing this! What about me leaving Joja Corporation to be here? The community center, too. Didn't get fixed without a few broken bones. What about that?"

The Joja Cola inside Harvey had finally exploded. A loud thud shook the bedside table and Harvey was standing, fuming. Tears cascaded like waterfalls down his eyes, ignited with fire and determination. His voice was broken and sounded like a scratched CD.

"What about me!" He gestured to himself with intensity. “What about me! Oh, it’s just one crisis after another and it doesn’t seem like a crisis to you, but every time I see you on that goddamn gurney I feel like my world is coming to an end! Dammit, if you come in again, and I can’t save...” he choked on his words. “I thought you were going to die, don’t you get it?”

You clenched your jaw, your face radiated heat. Harvey had scanned your eyes, as if he was frantically searching for something. He must have seen something because seconds after, he looked away, rubbing his eyes from underneath his glasses.

“Would you save me again? If I ignored this little debacle between us. And as soon I could get back up on my feet, and I go back into the mines, come in with a hole in my chest, the size of your hand. Would you save me, if you knew you could? Or… or even if you knew you couldn’t?”

He winced, his moustache wrinkling on his lip. His head bobbed, nonetheless. “You’re so cruel, you know that.” he said, looking at you like you asked what color the sky was. “You have this terrifying grip on me and I don’t think you realize it. I would rather not think of anything like that... you dying. Yet you force me. Not just now, but every time I see you rolling into this hospital. If you died, if you were on my operation table, my emergency room, and you flatlined... I doubt I could bring myself to hold a scalpel again. I am so deeply in love with you. I'd save you a billion times in a billion different lives. Again and again and again, I would save you in a box, with a fox, here or there, or anywhere. I am saving you now, and you’re oblivious. The most potent medicine I can administer for the madness within you is my own goddamn pleading.”

"I'm tired of this," you confessed. There was long a silence of him examining you. There was dark reddish-purple bruising around your face and various large ones dotting the lengths of your appendages. Old bruises that hadn't yet healed reopened and fading lacerations from being handled by Void Spirits throbbed around your wrists. "You're right. I... need a break from the mines. I haven't let myself heal."

Harvey looked caught off guard. He froze, eyes glued to your pathetic, ragged form. Hooked up to countless monitors and machines.

"I can't keep getting hurt like this. I... I try to act like it's no big deal but... I haven't been sleeping, it's so scary. I need stone and ore and money to expand my farm. I've gotten so caught up in boosting my efficiency I've completely turned into who I was when I worked for Joja."

Harvey was silent for a good moment. He took your hand. "(Y/N)," he spoke tenderly, his throat raw and shakey. "You live comfortably enough to take a medical leave from work. Doctor's orders, you understand?"

You frowned. Farming was your passion. But he was right, and the break might raise the prices of your crops if they become higher in demand. You took a deep breath, barely managing a nod. "I'll be awfully bored and lonely if I'm not working." You complained.

"Don't worry." Harvey managed a gentle smile. "I'll make my visits frequent."

"And long."

Harvey smiled. "One day, they'll be permanent."

#fanfiction #stardew farmer #harvey stardew valley #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv harvey x reader #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley x reader

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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 1 month

Note

OK OK BUT JOY, the prompt: “If you die, I die. Don’t you get that!” Between Irondad?! Either way! ASDGHJKL ANGST

AHHHH!!! Mini-fic time?? Yes. Yes, Mini-fic time.

Here it is, at 997 words. A lot of action, leading to a short panic-induced argument... and a hug. Because of course, there is a hug. :D Enjoy!! [click here for a reversed use of this prompt]

If You Died...

Peter hadn’t meant to get in over his head. It was just- he needed to keep his neighborhood safe, and he had powers. It wasn’t like he could see a problem and just walk away. But he had been careful. He’d used his tools and his abilities to access the situation. He’d asked his AI to run facial recognition on everyone involved and had cross-referenced their information through several databases; just to make sure he knew what he was up against.

Three regular guys, selling regular drugs inside a regular empty warehouse. That was it. Nothing about it had been alarming or ominous. So, taking them out should have been easy. And technically it was. It was the swarm of armed individuals that had flooded in after that had been the problem. He had that too for a while. Then the big guys came in. Three of them, with large shoulders and enhanced strength that matched his own. He was having a difficult time dividing his attention between the projectiles and the hands being aimed at his face.

“Karen?” He dodged, while shooting webs that never seemed to hit their mark. When they did, they never held for long. The big guys busted right out of them. “A little back up would be nice.”

“Of course, Peter. Contacting Mr. Stark.”

Peter ducked and slid beneath one of the large men’s legs. “Wait! Isn’t- Is Captain America available?” He spun around, sending his foot into the guy's knee cap. The impact made no difference; like a child kicking a fencepost. “Maybe Black Widow? Hawkeye?”

There was no debate. “Mr. Stark is already in route.” Three dots appeared on his HUD along with an ETA.

Peter wanted to fret over his mentor's imminent arrival but there wasn’t time. Whenever he thought he had one of the men restrained, they broke free and he had to start over again. One down, two to go. Two down, one- no, still two to go. It was a vicious cycle.

Ten minutes later a blast came from the right. A hole appeared in the wall and Iron Man, gauntlets ablaze, flew through it. Peter looked up. The momentary distraction allowed enough time for a football sized fists to make contact with his stomach. He flew backwards, through a spray of ammunition, and landed in the wall.

The comms crackled to life. Peter wished they hadn't. Pain was already radiating from the back of his skull down and down his spine. When Mr. Stark shouted his name, his ears began to ring. Dazedly, he looked up. Mr. Stark was swooping around the room. Metal clanked and repulsors whirred. Peter struggled to get to his feet to help. Mr. Stark’s voice was back in his ears.

“Stay down, Spider-Man! You’re done!”

Peter blinked. He took stock of his body. The blow had hurt, but he had enhanced strength and a healing factor. He shook out his limbs and demeaned himself well enough to continue. “I’m good. Just a little-”

He didn’t get to finish. Mr. Stark flew by, lifted his faceplate and scowled. “I said you’re done!”

The tone gave Peter pause. Reluctantly, he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. “I’m really okay,” he whispered, despite his throbbing head.

“And I’m really not discussing this will you,” Mr. Stark quipped. “I’m just about done here. You stay put. Capice?”

Peter nodded and looked around. Most of the little guys had fled. And only one of the larger men remained standing. Clearly his webbing needed an upgrade. Maybe taser webs with a manual detonation. A range of fifty to ninety thousand volts would probably do it. Could the suit handle that without increasing the power? He was unable to finish the math before Mr. Stark was in front of him.

“Let’s go.”

Peter allowed himself to be lifted to the top of a nearby water tower. He pulled his mask off and ran a hand over his sweaty forehead. “Mr. Stark, I-”

“Do you have any idea who those people are, what they’re capable of?” Mr. Stark gestured wildly toward the warehouse.

Peter shifted his feet. “I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what? Didn’t know? Of course you didn’t. Did you even stop to ask?” Mr. Stark wrapped his fingers tightly around his wrist. “There were two dozen lacheys and three giant bruises in there! What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t- it was three normal guys when I started!” he half-shouted. It wasn’t his fault, but Mr. Stark didn’t look keen to listen. “The others just- showed up!”

Mr. Stark took a step forward. “You could have died in there, Peter!”

“I wasn’t going to die!” he defensively shouted. “I have super-powers and I did call for back-up!”

“Your AI said you had been going at it for over an hour before you called! Peter-” Mr. Stark looked frantic with his hands running through his hair. “Peter, I don’t know how to explain this to you any more clearly. I-” His face dropped, all blood draining from his face. “What if you had died? Then what?”

Frustrated, Peter gritted his teeth. “It’s on you.”

Mr. Stark blinked. “No. No, bud. That’s not- geez.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, his breaths increasing as he spoke. “Pete. If you die, I die! Do you get that? If you die- I will never recover. I will-”

Peter’s brows furrowed with realization. Mr. Stark was having a panic attack. “Are you okay, Mr. Stark?”

Mr. Stark’s head shot up, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” Peter stepped closer, his hand going to the back of his hair. “My head hurts but that’s it..”

Without warning, he was pulled into a tight hug.

“Just- promise me you won’t wait so long to call for help next time. Because- Peter? Peter, I can’t lose you.”

Eyes closed tight, Peter nestled his face into Mr. Stark's chest. “I promise, Mr. Stark. You won’t lose me.”

#thanks for the ask!#happyaspie mini fic #peter parker #tony stark #irondad and spiderson #iron man #spider-man #marvel #mcu #light angst #peter parker gets a hug #panic attack #irondad

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 1 year

Text

𓅨 Momma

Momma: You had fallen into the habit of feeding some stray kittens near your house in London, soon encounter a beautiful black tom cat. What’s the worst that could happen by befriending a tom cat and his passel of kittens?

Warnings: Meowpheus, Morpheus is in Love (And A Little Stalkerish in Cat Form).

To Note: Meowpheus x Female!Reader.

Word Count: ~3.7k

Morpheus was once again walking the streets of London in cat form, heading in the direction of a family of stray kittens that had been cruelly abandoned on the side of the road by humanity. His pitch back fur blended in easily with the shadows, enabling him to wind his way through the city with little to no attention drawn. Though one glance at him, and one might question the size of such a large house cat. The little pack of kittens he had happened upon by chance once day had all been scrawny things, undernourished with patchy hair. They had been so lost without the guidance of their parents, so Morpheus has stepped in. He had guided the kittens on how to safely survive on the streets, taught them how to feed themselves on mice and other rodents, and all around provided a comforting parental figure.

Then the little ones had started to gain more weight, their scrawny figures filling out so their weight was far more healthy then it had been. Morpheus had noted that there were little trays of water set out in the alley the kittens resided in, they were regularly refilled and cleaned. It was obvious that someone other then Morpheus had taken notice of the strays.

Morpheus padded his way into the back alley, and the moment the kittens spotted him, they all came charging over to him with chirps and meows of greeting. They all had gotten into the habit of calling him father, a notion that tugged on Morpheus’s heart as thoughts of his long dead son surfaced, but he couldn’t bear to tell them to stop. Not when they looked at him with such happiness and innocence. Morpheus walked himself over to a nice spot to stretch out and plopped his body down, enjoying watching the kittens wrestle with each other. They had been dealt a bad card, but it hadn’t affected their happiness. He was in the middle of carefully observing the two youngest rolling around, fighting over a bottle cap, when all six kittens froze in place and perked up. Morpheus himself twitched an ear at the sound of incoming feet. Seconds later all six kittens were scrambling in the direction of the far side of the alley, their little voices echoing the same word, over and over. Momma. Momma. Momma. Momma. Momma. Momma.

Morpheus saw feet appear, and lifting a lazy but attentive blue eye, he watch as you made your way down the alley, the kittens all running towards you with cries of happiness. You stopped short to avoid stepping on the kittens circling your legs, and as they further cried up at you with repeated ‘Momma’, you bent down, setting the box you held aside and and stroked their heads with a giggle. The youngest of the kittens rose up on his back legs and pressed his claws into your stocking covered knee. You ignored the pinpricks of pain the kitten claws gave your skin and chuckled at the kitten demanding your full attention.

“It’s lovely to see you too, little one,” You spoke softly, your voice just barely traveling across the alleyway. More kittens started pawing at your legs, ripping into your stockings. You gently started peeling the mewling kittens off your legs and reached into the cardboard box you had been carrying. Your hands pulled out a stack of metal bowls and you carefully started setting them down, one after another, right in a row. Morpheus eyed the bowls, now understanding that you were the reason that the kittens were doing so well now. You had been feeding and caring for them. The kittens were being extra loud now, boisterous even, as you started scooping kibble into each of the dishes. It was amusing to watch as the kittens devoured the foot you gave them with the gusto of a fully grown cat. You were pacing away the plastic container of kibble when you finally noticed Morpheus.

He hadn’t moved from his lounging spot, bright blue eyes watching you ever so carefully. You adjusted were your squatted, a frown appearing on your face.

“Oh, I didn’t notice you,” You quietly commented, your head tilting to the side. Your frown deepened as you looked at the container of kitten kibble. “I only have kitten kibble but you’re clearly an adult… I’m sure it makes no difference to you.” You wished to offer him food? Morpheus had no need for sustenance, and anything you offer to him was better spent on the little ones. You stayed long enough to let the kittens finish their meals and pack away their metal bowls. When you were lifting your box up, you gave Morpheus one last look. The kittens had returned to him, their bellies full, and were content to pile up for a nap around him. It was a very familial sight. “They’re lucky to have you, I’m afraid I can only do so much for them as a human.”

It was week three of you stopping by the alley after work to feed the kittens, and Morpheus had gotten to know your weekly habits well by following you around in his cat form. He had even dipped into your dreams when you slept at night to get a better picture of what your hopes and dreams were. You were an unusually kind human and the sparkle that glowed in your eyes when you visited the kittens had taken the Endless’s heart captive. His interest in you had finally led him to follow you home this night. You were oblivious to your follower, that is until Morpheus had hopped up onto the stone wall that ran in-between your cottage and the neighboring one, and you checked your postbox. You blinked in confusion as Morpheus sat on the wall and stared at you, his tail swishing around lightly.

“Well hello, handsome,” You spoke with that lovely smile of yours. In the last couple of weeks, the older cat that had been a regular in the alley had taken more interest in you and even let you pet silky black fur. You weren’t sure if he was the kitten’s father, but he sure acted like it. The cat blinked at you and sniffed the air, you looked down at your work blouse. “Do I smell bad? My coworker wore an ungodly amount of cologne today and I swear the entire floor could smell it. It’s going to take weeks for it to dissipate.” Your nose scrunched in distaste and you offered your fingers to him. “I won’t blame you if you don’t want to even touch me, I’m getting a headache just thinking about it.”

Morpheus could agree that the stench of cologne was quite repellent… but he could smell your own sweet scent beneath the noxious notes of the male coworker. You never smelled bad, even after a bad day. So he stretched his neck out and brushed his cheeks across your fingers, marking them with his scent in a territorial way. He could defend his actions by simply stating that he was acting as a cat should… his own territorial desires aside. You finished getting your post and dug out the key to your flat, glancing at the cat once more.

“Would you like to come in?” You offered to the obsidian feline. “You’ve proven to be quite the company, Mr.” Morpheus would gladly follow you into your home to spend just a few minutes more with you. So he nimbly jumped down from the stone wall and trotted after you as you opened your front door. Morpheus didn’t need any direction in your home, he knew the footprint of your flat quite well after watching you piddle around through the window of your kitchen. So he trotted through the front hall to your kitchen and jumped up into the spare chair at the table. You came walking in, riffling through your mail and muttering under your breath. “Be glad you are a cat, Handsome, because junk mail is the worst.” You slapped the stack on the table and went to turn the kettle on for tea.

You further rambled about your day at work to Morpheus, who had learned that you had a coworker who consistently harassed the female staff on your floor, someone who repeatedly stole lunches from the communal fridge, and the worker in the next cubical over tended to play their music a touch too loudly at the worst of times. Morpheus often wondered why you stayed at your job in the first place since it gave you much grief, not to mention overtime… you often came to the alley looking rundown and in need of a good rest. By the time you were sipping your tea at the table, you looked worse for wear. You fell asleep at the table that night, Morpheus calmly watching over you.

You had beaten Morpheus to the kittens this night, but unlike your usual routine, you were far from smiling and giggling. No, you were hunched over in place, ignoring the London rain flooding downwards from the sky. You were soaked, shivering, and very much obviously upset. Morpheus didn’t like that. Rather than approach you in cat form like he had the past five months, he shifted into his human form and slowly approached you. You were oblivious to him until a coat was draping around your trembling and wet shoulders.

You jerked in place slightly when the fabric was placed around your shoulders and looking up, you saw than inhumanely beautiful man. It was his coat around your shoulders… but you were wet, dirty! You went to remove the warm and fancy material from your shoulders. He stopped you with a voice that was hypnotizing.

“I believe you have more use for my coat that this moment.” Morpheus spoke to you as his eyes stared into your red and puffy face. You had been crying and the mascara and eyeliner had ran. You sniffed and wiped at your cheek.

“That’s kind of you, thank you,” You whispered out, your fingers curling into the jacket. It was unbelievably warm and dissipated the chill that had set within your bones since you had marched your ass out of your work— no, that wasn’t right, you had quit before you got fired for smacking the shit out of your now former coworker. One of the kittens mewed and stood up on its hind legs, balancing on your shin as it stared at you with its big and innocent little eyes. “Today has not been my day I fear.”

Morpheus blinked and tilted his head to the side. Oh today was most definitely not your day. He had never seen you so worn down your upset. A few of the kittens marched over to Morpheus and started demanding his attention. Father. Father. Father. Father. Father. Morpheus joined you in your crouch, giving the demanding attention.

“I’ve never seen you before but the kittens seem to be familiar with you,” You softly commented as the youngest started batting at your fingers, playing with them. Morpheus gazed at your with a soft smile.

“I visit periodically,” He explained simply. “Today I decided to change my schedule.” You hummed before looking around for the silky black tom cat.

“There’s usually a gorgeous black tom cat hanging around,” You commented, teasing a kitten with a twirl of your fingers. “I think he’s their father or at least guardian. It’s strange that he’s not here today.”

“I’m sure he is close by,” Morpheus reassured you, knowing that you were rather fond of his cat visits and proclivity to follow you home. “Forgive me for prying, but it appears that you are in distress.” You sniffed again and wiped your nose with the back of your hand with a strained chuckle.

“Oh, yeah, kind of.” You started, tilting your head back to look up at the stormy skies overhead. “So… I punched my coworker today because I couldn’t take his sexual harassment of my friend anymore and then subsequently quit my job so I didn’t get fired and I don’t regret anything because the hours and pay sucked and my coworkers looked at me like I was their hero but now I’m out of a job and it sucks and—“ You stopped mid word vomit. “Sorry I didn’t mean to dump that all on you.”

“I doubt it would have done you any good to keep that bottled up.” Morpheus gently told you, secretly glad you had finally quit that horrid job of yours. You deserved so much better. A few of the kittens got into a fight a few feet from you, and standing up, you quickly stepped over to break them apart.

“Oh you naughty little ones, you aren’t supposed to be fighting with each other!” You chided them as you placed them back on the ground. “Stop picking on each other.” Morpheus couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you chiding the little ones like you were exactly what they thought you were. Their momma.

“You are quite gentle with them, do you have any of your own?” Morpheus asked while rising to his feet. He knew the answer but wanting to extend the conversation for as long as he could. You shook your head and wrapped his coat further around your shivering body.

“No, I— well I suppose my job kept be so busy with work I thought it wouldn’t be fair to keep an animal at home always waiting for me, so no, I don’t have pets of my own.” You sighed softly and and looked at the mystery man. “I probably wouldn’t be a very good parent.” You thought you would be a bad parent? After everything you had done for the little ones?

“I wouldn’t say that,” Morpheus answered, looking down at you wrapped up in his coat. “You are taking care of these little ones quite well.” You flushed under his praise and looked down at the jacket you wore around your shoulders. At times you could have sworn that you saw stars glimmering on the silken underside of the jacket. Then you remembered that if you were wearing his coat to protect you from the rain, what was protecting him? You went to remove the coat once more, his hands were physically stopping you. “I have business to attend to and I should not like to leave you here in the rain unprotected.”

Why couldn’t all men be as kind and considerate as him? You sighed in resignation and nodded.

“Okay,” You agreed before glancing over your shoulder to the direction your house was in. “But I would feel bad if I leave you without your jack—“ When you turned back around he was gone. “et…” You trailed off as the kittens repeatedly meowed and pawed at your ankles. “Oh I do hope I see you again because this jacket feels like it cost a fortune.” You hummed with a sigh. Then, like a little burst of sunshine, a silky black cat emerged from the shadows of a nearby building. You darted over with a wide smile.

“You’re here!” You exclaimed, crouching down in front of the tom cat and stroking his head with your free hand. He purred and bumped his head against your palm. Handsome, as you had taken to calling him, eagerly wound around in figure eights in front of you, purring loudly and rubbing every bit of his cheeks against your cold fingers. “We had a visitor here today,” You softly explained as the kittens came scrambling over and wove themselves around you and Handsome, loud and cheerful. “He left without his jacket though,” you looked down at the dark material encompassing your shoulders.

Thinking about what the man had said, you look down at the little kittens and decided right there in the rain to change their futures. Looking at the box that had the cat food and dishes, you reached for the kittens one at a time and placed them within the box. In no time, you had all of them safely tucked away with Handsome sitting calmly next to you, blinking at you with his incredible blue eyes. You then noticed they were strikingly similar in color to the mystery man’s. It was a very beautiful blue color that shimmered with stars. How odd that they had matching eyes. Never mind that, you needed to get these kittens taken are of.

“Alright then, let’s get the little ones home, yes?” You questioned Handsome, picking up the box with the mewling kittens. As you headed home, he followed you step in step, quite pleased that you had a smile on your face once more. The kittens had quieted by the time you were backing into your house, letting Handsome trot ahead of you. Kicking the door shut behind you, you headed straight for the bathroom. If you were going to let the little ones stay with you for now, they were going to need a bath.

“Well that was chaos,” You murmured tiredly from where you sat at your kitchen table, Handsome sitting on the tabletop next to you. He head butted your arm and purred loudly. You chuckled and scratched him under the chin. “I think the little ones have exhausted themselves, thank god for that because I don’t know if I would been able to keep up with them running around my feet.”

Morpheus agreed. The little kittens had exhausted themselves after you had bathed them clean of the street and rain. Now they slept in your bathtub on a bed of towels you had thrown into your dryer while you bathed them. They hadn’t moved since you put them there.

Your tired eyes glanced at the black jacket you had neatly folded over your spare dining chair. You hoped that you would run into the mystery man in that alley once more, you needed to return his jacket. Which you were now sure that stars glimmered in the lining. It was strange and beautiful at the same time. Sighing, you pushed back from your seat and stretched your tired limbs. It was late, you were tired, and you really needed to get some quality sleep after the day you had. So, standing up from your seat, you walked over to your front door and opened it to let the tom cat out for the night.

The black tom cat just blinked at you from where he sat on the table, not the least bit interested in leaving.

“Oh come on, Handsome,” You coaxed. “I hardly think you’ll want to spend the entire night in my house. Not after being a street cat. Come on, out you go because I am tired and need to go to bed.” He didn’t budge. You sighed again and gestured to the door. “Handsome,” you cooed softly, Morpheus started purring, your silky voice like a drug to him. “If you don’t want to spent the night here, you need to leave.”

Morpheus jumped down from your table, but rather than trot over to you and leave, he padded his way over to the door to your bedroom and sat in front of it. Then he looked back at you, his silver blue eyes twinkling. Oh were you really going to give in to the demand of a street cat? Decidedly so. You shut and locked your door before heading back to your bathroom. The kittens were still knocked out in the bathtub, and they had access the makeshift litter box you made and to the water bowl. They would be fine until morning.

“Alright, Handsome, let’s get ready for bed, shall we?” You asked as you opened your bedroom door and let the demanding cat into your room. He strut in like he owned the place and jumped up onto your nightstand. While you changed into your pajamas, Morpheus sniffed the clock on the nightstand and the picture of you with another woman. She looked like an older version of you. When you pulled your shirt over your head and undid your bra, Morpheus, at the very least, turned his head to give you privacy. You were oblivious of course, but certainly deserved his respect.

Dressed in your sleep clothes, you turned the lights off and climbed into your bed. Morpheus jumped onto your bed and then boldy sat directly on your chest, staring directly into your eyes.

“You’re not sleeping there,” You told him, reaching up and stroking his face once more. “No matter how handsome you are Handsome.” Morpheus purred and pushed his face further against your touch. In truth he had become addicted to your company and wished for more than just your touches when he was a cat. He wanted to woo you, court you, wanted to sweep you off your feet, in his human form. It was a good thing he had made sure to leave while you still had his coat. It gave him a reason to see you again.

You pulled him off your chest and rolled onto your side, tucking him against your chest so you could feel the warmth and vibrations from his body.

“When the weather clears up, I think I will go in search of my mystery man.” You murmured, your fingers running along Morpheus’s back. Morpheus was pleased by your words and snuggled himself into your side.

You had your mystery man’s jacket draped over your arm as you walked down the damp street in London. The rain had finally ceased its downpour and you were taking this chance to visit the alley once more. Turning down it, you felt that the alley wasn’t the same without the tiny yet powerful mewling of the kittens. But they were in better homes now, having been homed to families and friends you knew would take good care of them.

Looking around at the old alley, you smiled at the memories you remembered making with the little ones. They had left little scratch marks in places, soft little gorges from the stone that would forever remain in memory. Overhead you herd the call of a bird and glancing up, you saw a large raven perched on the gutter of a nearby building. You were quickly distracted by movement to your right, and to your delight it was your mystery man. His startlingly blue eyes met yours and he smiled. You glanced down at the folded coat in your hands before looking back up.

“I believe I have something of yours to return.”

Date Published: 4/27/23

Last Edit: 4/27/23

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