#reader!fic

[cjwriteswhenshewantsto]

Aphrodisiac

What if Jinshi had a plan for the aphrodisiac that Maomao made in S1 E2

Pairing: Jinshi X Female! Reader

Warnings: smut, consensual use of drugs, sex under influence of drug

Word Count: 2.2K

Maomao put the aphrodisiacs in a covered bag and handed it to Jinshi. “They’re quite potent, so I recommend taking just one at a time. Taking too many could overstimulate the blood flow and produce a nosebleed. Also, consumption should be limited to when the patient is alone with their partner.”

With these instructions duly conveyed, Jinshi stood up. Gaoshun and Hongniang left the room to prepare for his departure. Consort Gyokuyou likewise nodded to him, then left with the sleeping princess in a carrier.

As Maomao went to clean up the plate of bread, she smelled a sweet aroma from behind her.

“Thank you. I put you to quite a bit of trouble.” The voice was sweet, too, like honey. She turned in time to see Jinshi waving at her as he left the room.

“I get it.” When she looked at the plate, she discovered one of the pieces of bread was missing. She had an idea where it was. “I just hope no one gets hurt,” Maomao muttered, but she didn’t seem to think it had much to do with her.

The night was still young.

__________________________________________

As Jinshi and his party departed from the Palace, he couldn't help but think about the aphrodisiacs. He thought about all the ways in which those small chocolates could enhance his time with you. He couldn't wait to use them.

During the journey home, he was still mulling over the details in his head, he was so deep in thought that he didn't speak a word throughout the whole journey. Something Gaoshun noted with no great delight.

Walking into his chambers he sees you lounging in the living area, a book in one hand and cup of tea in the other. It was so cute and adorable to see you relaxing and reading a book.

He took a moment to appreciate the sight before saying, "I have something to show you".

Peering up from your book you see your husband and a small bag that he’s pulled out from his robes. Jinshi smiled as he saw that you had put down your book and was now peering curiously at the little brown bag. He walked closer and said

"I brought something back from the palace"

“Oh, What is it? A treat?”

“You could say that" Jinshi smiled. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

He opens the small bag in front of you revealing some cacao and a small piece of bread.

“It smell delicious!” you say reaching for a piece.

Jinshi caught your hand by the wrist, he was so quick and smooth that you didn't even have a chance to take a bite.

"Not yet" he says laughed lightly.

“Not yet?” You echo.

Jinshi couldn't help but smile at hearing your sweet, curious response, he looked at you with such fondness.

"There's a reason it hasn't been eaten yet" he informs you.

“Is there something wrong with it? It smells fine to me?” You say inspecting the food laid down in front of you.

Jinshi chuckled he couldn't help it when you had this adorable expression on your face, he pulled you a bit closer so that your faces were close together.

"It is fine, it's just... There's something you should know before you eat it"

Jinshi was so close to you, you could feel his breath against your skin and his eyes were fixed on yours.

"You see, this is not a normal piece of food" He said in a very soft tone. “It’s an aphrodisiac.”

“You brought me home an aphrodisiac? Where did you even get these from?” You say sceptically.

Jinshi smiled at that as he pulled you even closer, he leaned so close that your faces were almost touching.

“I have my ways of acquiring things" He replied in a smooth, sensual tone. “The new apothecary needed a little test. I must say her results speak for themselves.”

“And you want to try these, with me?”

Jinshi nodded slightly. He was so close and he could smell your scent, the subtle smell of your hair and skin, the sweet scent of your perfume. He regrets that his office work leaves him with little time for his wife.

"I do" He replied in a low and sensual tone.

“Okay.” You say slightly jittery. “Let’s try it.”

Jinshi took one last moment to look at your face, studying the expressions, he could see the slight hint of apprehension, the excitement of trying something new, the nervousness and the slight tingle of anticipation.

He leaned even closer and said "Are you sure? Don’t think I need you to do this.”

“You’ve been busy lately, I’ve missed having my moon prince to myself.” you say caressing his face.

Jinshi smiled at that because you had hit the mark so well, his duties as the manager of the rear palace had been keeping him quite busy lately, leaving him little time to spend with you. He was also a little exhausted these past few days, he had been going without rest or sleep.

"I’ve been so busy, I’m sorry if I’ve been neglecting you" he replied in a slightly apologetic tone.

“None of that, tonight I just want us to have some fun together.” You say with a playful smile. It was rare you had your husband home at a reasonable time. Why not celebrate a little?

Jinshi watched you, you looked so adorable as you picked up the bread. He thought that there was no way that he could say no to you, especially when you looked so sweet and charming.

"I guess I’ve no choice but to obey my lovely wife" he says adoringly.

You tear the bread in two handing him a piece. Jinshi took the piece of bread that you handed him, he could smell the sweet aroma. It looked so soft and fluffy, the scent made his mouth water. He took a bite of the bread while looking at you.

"Mmmm, it’s good"

“Delicious and so sweet!”

Jinshi agreed as he took another bite, he savoured the taste on his tongue and tasted the sweetness in his mouth. He thought it was funny how the aroma of the bread matched your expression, so sweet.

He put another piece in his mouth and said

“You taste sweeter though”.

Jinshi smiled as he saw your cheeks flush, so adorable and cute. He was enjoying watching the different expressions on your face.

“Would you like a taste.” You say kissing him. He was so smug sometimes but it was also easy to turn the tables on him.

Jinshi kissed you back, the taste of the sweet bread still lingered on your lips. He couldn't help it, he wanted to taste you, you were so intoxicating. You always made him so needy. He cupped the sides of your face while he kissed you, he ran his tongue along your lip, trying to explore your mouth to taste you more. He broke the kiss only when he felt the need to breathe

“Yes, more”.

You kiss him harder climbing onto his lap. Jinshi felt your body against his own, your legs on each side of his waist, you were so close to him that there was almost no space between you two. He let out a soft moan, the feeling of your body against his was so intoxicating. He placed his hands on your thighs, he was just feeling you, your body felt so warm against him, he wanted to be closer to you, he wanted to feel more of you.

Jinshi lifted you up, he held you bridal style, your body was so light and easy for him to carry. He carried you like that all the way to the bed and set you down, your legs still wrapped around his waist as he looked down at you. Your faces were so close together, you could feel his breath against your skin while he was looking at you.

The passion and desire was so strong, Jinshi couldn't hold back any longer. Your body was so close to his own, he wanted to feel more of you, he wanted to be as close to you as possible. Every touch felt like an electric current, sending chills down his spine. He wanted to lose himself in the pleasure that you both were feeling. The aphrodisiac feeding his desire.

Jinshi was teasing you with his fingers, they would brush against your centre in quick, short touches, almost as if he was testing you, testing to see how your body would respond. The touch was so light and delicate, it was sending shivers down the spine, as you felt your body react and quiver as he played with you, teasing you, making you ache for more.

“Put them in, please! I need you.” You cry.

Jinshi smiled at that tone, so needy, so desperate for him. He couldn't help it, he wanted to give you everything, he wanted you to feel so good. He replied in a low and deep tone

"Anything for you, my wife"

You let out a small gasp as you felt Jinshi's fingers, the feeling was so intense, it felt so good, your body was on fire. You could feel every little movement and touch, it was like Jinshi knew all the ways to make you feel amazing. Your body was reacting to his touch, your chest was rising and falling with each breath, your face was flushed and your eyes were shut in bliss.

Jinshi smiled as he watched you reach your peak, he was so proud and happy to see you look so satisfied and pleased. He pulled his hand out and looked at your face, your face was flushed and your eyes were closed, you were breathing heavily and your whole body was trembling. He could see the look of satisfaction on your face and couldn't help but say

"Look at you, so delightful and beautiful" he said pleased.

You watch as he put his fingers in his mouth tasting you. Licking his fingers like they were covered in honey. He watched as you observed him, your eyes were wide as you watched him. He loved the look in your eyes, it was such a cute reaction.

"Mmm, sweet and delicious. I could just eat you up.”

“Later, right now I want a taste of my husband.”

Jinshi let out a soft sigh as you kissed and nibbled your way across his body. Your touch felt so good, it was an electric sensation, each kiss and bite made him shiver. Your lips and tongue had a very delicate and soft touch, he was so overwhelmed by your kisses that it made him feel like he was in a daze, the only thing he could think about was you.

"Ahhh, Y/N"

“Want to take care of you.” You say still kissing him into a daze.

"Then take care of me, please" he whined almost childlike.

Carefully you slide down onto him. Jinshi let out another soft sigh, this time it was slightly deeper and longer, you could hear the pleasure in his voice.

"Ahhhh, my wife, you are perfect"

You could feel his body trembling as you moved around him, he was so overwhelmed by your touch and the pleasure that you were making him feel.

Jinshi tried to hold back, but every movement from you, your touch and your lips were making it impossible to control himself. He was so overwhelmed by the pleasure that it was making him shake, your touch was like an addiction, he couldn't get enough of you, he wanted to be as close to you as possible. His pace had turned strong and relentless.

"Mmmmm, my wife, you are so wonderful"

As you moved your body, rocking against him, Jinshi could hardly hold himself back, he was struggling to keep control, he wanted to be able to hold back and cherish the moment, he wanted to savor every touch and kiss, but the pleasure that you were giving him was so intense and so strong that he could hardly find the strength to even hold his head up. His hands gripped at the sheets on either side of him, trying to hold himself together, the feeling was so overwhelming, he couldn't speak, he could only moan and whimper in response.

“You're so good for me..."

Jinshi let out one last deep moan, your touch was so amazing and overwhelming that it was like you had brought him to another world, your touch was so sweet and perfect. He closed his eyes, completely at your mercy as you rocked against him, your body so close to his own, he had completely lost himself in the pleasure that you were giving him, he felt so close to you. When you had finally reached your peak, he finally opened his eyes and looked at you, his expression still one of awe and wonder.

"P-perfect, absolutely perfect.”

Jinshi continued until you both finally reached your peak again, Jinshi was left breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each deep inhale and exhale. He was completely spent, his body and mind were so exhausted and overstimulated that he could barely think. His hand gently stroked your hair, running it through the long strands, you were still straddled on top of him, your bodies sweat-dampened and tangled together.

"Remind me to thank the apothecary next time I see her.”

[snippychicke]

Title: Cats & Ships

Overall Rating: Teen for now? May go into mature at a future date

Trigger warnings: Nothing beyond what's in the live-action series. I mean, Kuro's still manipulative and paranoid. It gets better tho? Slowly? It's a WIP, so I don't fully know yet.

Pairings: Captain Kuro (Klahadore)/Reader; hints of Kaya/Usopp

Summary: It started out as a means to get information as Khaladore. Who would be better to provide information regarding the high seas than Syrup Village’s Harbormaster? Except, for the first time in a very long time, Kuro found himself trusting, and even liking, the young woman he shared tea with every week. 

And then the Straw Hat Pirates arrived and ruined his plans. Except fate decided his story wasn’t done there. 

Nor was yours.

Masterlist here! | Read on Ao3!

The harbormaster of Syrup village had her home office close to the port, which was predictable but also meant it was about the opposite side of the village from the manor. The man formerly known as Captain Kuro hated the walk through the impoverished village, always anticipating the worst. Someone would identify him as the long dead pirate, or perhaps would merely attack Klahdore for being Kaya's butler. 

Yes, he had contingencies upon contingencies, but it didn’t mean he didn't want to use them because someone decided to be an idiot. He was so close to the fruition of this three-year ploy. Just a few more weeks, and he could finally reap the rewards. 

In the meantime, Klahadore endured the weekly trek to the simple one-story building that sat next to the ocean gate. The adobe home had a dozen of half-feral cats relaxing on--or in--  the various crates outside, and even a few on the thatched roof. A few greeted him with soft mews, or by rubbing up against his pant leg, leaving fur he rather didn’t mind as he paused to scratch between their ears. 

Others watched with wary eyes, still unused to him encroaching on their territory. Predators recognized kin, after all. Their instincts were not deadened by domestication, and they seemed to be able to tell he was dangerous despite the soft exterior. 

Inside the home, bookshelves took up any space that could be afforded and were filled to the brim; mainly with ledgers of the harbor’s past, though a few other books were mixed in. Even more cats lounged inside, most having mixed feelings about his presence though a few called for his attention. 

"Well," your familiar voice called out from within the maze of bookcases, soundly faintly amused.  "Either Klahadore has come to visit a few hours early, or I have myself a thief. Or a ghost." 

Despite himself, Klahadore smiled, feeling himself relax as he made his way to your office near the back of the home. It too was filled with books, though most of them much newer then the rest of the building. A large wooden desk sat next to a picture window overlooking the coast, a matching chair turned so you were looking outside where the white sails of the ships looked little more than points of white on the horizon. 

He was more focused on the glimpse of hair he could see over the tall back of the chair, as well as the cat that was looking over the edge, its lone jade-colored eye looking expectantly at him. "I find myself wondering how often you say that when there is no one around?" 

"More than I like to admit. But I blame the ghosties," the tall chair swiveled around, your bright smile becoming the focus of his attention, even as your cat meowed at the sudden change, shifting in your arms to resume silently demanding his attention. “But Kuro doesn’t get excited for anyone else coming to visit, so at least there is that.” 

Kuro. You had named the cat Kuro, citing you had found him the same day news had reached the isle that the famed captain of the Black Cat Pirates had been defeated by the marines. He still wasn't sure how he felt about that. Or your awkward admission you had found the Black Cat Captain rather handsome.

 It had proved useful, though, as part of that attraction unknowingly lingered. It made it all too easy to gain your trust and friendship. 

"How are you today, Klahadore?" You asked, gesturing to the chair across from your desk at the same time you stood--much to Kuro-the-cat's displeasure. The cat flicked his tail irately as you dumped him onto the desk, before stretching and deciding to claim Klahadore’s lap. 

“I’m fair, and yourself?” he asked, watching you enter the small kitchen area to start a kettle to boil as he mindlessly petted the large fluffy cat. 

Usually Klahadore didn't trust anyone to make him food or beverage of any kind--not even his own crew. But after a few years of knowing you, he had allowed you the privilege. 

Especially after you had fussed, going as far as to slap his hand when he had tried to make the tea instead. ‘You work all day serving others. Let me serve you for once.’ 

He did watch you carefully as you prepared the tea and grabbed a tin of pastries from a cupboard. For safety reasons, of course. Not because he particularly enjoyed watching you work or anything, or because it was a rare time for him to be able to appreciate your form without you noticing. You were dressed in layers to fight the cool breeze that was coming from the sea as the seasons changed, your hair carelessly messy as always, a pencil stuck behind your ear where it was likely forgotten. 

As you moved he caught hints of the curves you hid, making him watch even more closely. 

It was merely because he didn’t fully trust you, either. That was all. 

“Honestly, and please don’t repeat this," you spoke after a moment, only slightly breaking his concentration. "But I’m about ready to either strangle several someones or pull my hair out. Possibly both.” 

This was the reason why he came down to your office week after week. You tended to ramble on, divulging information without a second thought. And as the harbormaster of Syrup village and the rest of the Gecko Islands,  you were a wealth of information about the outside world. (It wasn’t because he was able to enjoy a moment of peace away from Kaya, Sham, and Buchi. Or because he truly enjoyed your company. Not at all.) 

“Oh dear, that doesn’t sound good,” he frowned even though internally he felt like smiling. “I hate the idea of your pretty hair being harmed in any way.” 

Kuro did allow a small smile as you blushed deeply, fumbling the tray a little as you glanced back at him. 

“Har-har-har,” you said dryly as you regained your composure and brought the tray back to the desk. “It’s a rat’s nest and we both know it, Klahadore. I am also offended that you don’t think I could strangle anyone. I am still the Harbormaster.” 

He was fairly certain the only reason you of all people were the Harbormaster was because the title had been a part of your family for generations, and the Gecko Islands rarely saw any trouble. Despite that fool Usopp and his stories, Syrup Village was as peaceful as a place could be. 

Granted, he had seen you knock out a drunken marine once with a shipwright's mallet once. Just the memory of it made him smile as you poured him a cup of tea, followed by a serving of cream, having learned his tastes long ago. No sugar, though he did love the small cookies you placed on the platter. 

“Anyways, a merchant ship was attacked between here and the port in Coco Village. The damn pirates did a real number to both crew and the cargo, so we’re going to be short quite a few expectant items and everyone is already at each other’s throats. It’s--” You ran your hands through your hair, wincing as you reached a few knots. “But don’t worry,” you continued after a deep breath and started working on the tangles mindlessly. “I’ll make sure the manor is given its allotment as always. The shipyard is over half the reason we exist, after all. And dues must be paid.” 

A small frown tugged at his lips, as much as he liked the deference (and the knowledge that while he had to continue this charade he did not have to worry about food) but he also knew of your altruism. And for reasons he’d rather not examine, it bothered him that you often went above and beyond for a village that seemed to take your kindness for granted.  

"You are the harbormaster, not the mayor," he stated firmly. "Your duties are to the harbor and her ships. No one else."

You shot him another wry look. "Klahadore, we both the mayor is beyond useless, and no one else gives a fuck about anyone else around here.  Hell, I'd hate to think what would have happened to lil' Kaya if you hadn't been here. Merry is a good man, but a strong one he is not." You sighed, missing the twitch in his face. "The point is, if I don't care, no one will. If I don't figure out a good compromise, the shipyard will dissolve into chaos, followed by the whole town. Maybe even the rest of the isles.  What good is a harbormaster if everyone is at each other's throats?"

"I simply worry," he excused, not able to argue any of your points. After all, it was true. The village wasn't as sugar-sweet as the name implied, and the town officials did little to change that. The only reason the place wasn't overrun by pirates was because the World Government wanted the ships that their shipyard produced. "You try to take care of everyone, yet it seems like no one regards you with the slightest hint of gratitude." 

Your eyes warmed and a smile returned to your lips. "You're too sweet, Klahadore. But enough of my woes--I could complain all day and night after all. How has your luck been with trying to raise a teenager?" 

For a moment, Kuro allowed his facade to drop as he sighed heavily. "About as tiring as one would imagine. I love Miss Kaya dearly, but…"

You laughed faintly before finishing for him. "She's a seventeen year old heiress that's been sheltered all her life." 

He smiled as well, and enjoyed watching your blush return to your cheeks as he fixed his glasses. "Exactly. If her health wasn't in such a poor state, I think exposure to the real world would do her good, but alas, I'd rather have her naive and alive versus… well, the alternative." 

"Very true," you mumbled, eyes still slightly unfocused and that delightful blush slowly traveling further--both down your neck and to the tips of your ears. "You're a good man, Klahadore." 

Klahadore may have been a good man, but Kuro was not. Yet he was pleased by your praises nonetheless. “I do my best.” 

[cas-kingdom]

Would you do "Did you just swear at me" with Eric northman x reader for the prompt one. X

“Did you just swear at me?” Eric Northman asked as he stretched languidly out across the swing bench. His blue eyes trained on the small ten-year-old standing in front of him and his voice swirled with an uncommon edge of curiosity.

He crossed his legs at the ankle and you, who’d since realised the mistake you’d perhaps made and resigned yourself to the far corner of the porch, metaphorically sealed your mouth shut.

Eric hummed, lifting his arms above his head to cross on the pillows behind him. He turned his head out to stare across the wide fields of northern Sweden, catching sight of the cows and sheep roaming the meadows, the sky darkening into that wonderful state following sunset. Vampires rarely had time to relax, but he was closest to that when he was here, in his homeland with you, Pam and her persistent mouth still in America. And it was this relaxed feeling that saved you this time, you figured.

“Did you?” he asked again, turning back to you with a raised brow.

You bit your bottom lip and steadied your breathing, knowing that was the first thing he’d hear, whether he was listening for it or not. Lying would make things worse, so you accepted your fate and leaned back against the wooden fence, mustering up a load of bravery to fill your little body.

“Yes,” you said quietly, then took a deep breath, “I’m sorry.”

Eric twisted a lock of his hair in the hands above his head. “Come,” he said, giving you a little nod, and you indiscreetly made a face of displeasure, which he smiled to himself at. You dragged yourself to his seat, sitting on the very edge, in front of his feet, hands in your lap, eyes following his gaze in staring out across the grasslands.

“I don’t think you’ve ever used that word before,” Eric mused, peering at you. ‘You can’t fucking leave me!’ still echoed in his brain, in your little voice.

“I didn’t mean to,” you insisted.

Eric doubted that. He doubted you hadn’t known exactly what you were saying in the moment, and hadn’t simply regretted it after. He also doubted you didn’t still mean it.

“I am leaving for three days at most,” he said gently, lowering an arm to lay by his side. “We have had this conversation. Astrid will watch you while I’m away. You will be able to go out in the daytime and help Lukas feed the animals their breakfast. Do you not want that?”

You heaved a deep breath, casting a quick glance his way. “But I’ll worry about you.”

Eric laughed, his eyes smiling with him. “The last thing you need to worry about is me, älskling. That is not the kind of weight a ten-year-old should have on her shoulders.” He sat up, swinging his feet over your head to place on the floor. He sat back and pulled you onto his lap. “I’m going to visit a friend,” he told you, and you scrunched your nose up, knowing that was a lie, knowing he’d been talking about business on the phone just last week, “and I’ll be home before you know it.”

“Fine.” You sat back against his chest.

“Oh, and one more thing—” You shut your eyes at his words— “I don’t care if you swear,” he said slowly, lowering his voice, “but not now, when you’re a child, and never, ever at me. Understand?”

You nodded, your little head bobbing against him, and he pat your leg, settling back once more. “Good girl.”

True Blood Masterpost

[snippychicke]

Monsters & Men--Eight

Long chapter is long and filled with plot and hopefully feelings. We’re getting to the start of the actual plot. But don’t except this to follow the movie’s plot. It will draw inspiration and the core of the plot, but ultimately this will be its own story. 

Tagging!  @idesinfection​, @crowleys-poppet-queen-of-asgard​ @aislinsekhem​ @arcadiasblog​

Title: Of Monsters and Men

Rating:  Not quite innocent (T)

Chapter: Eight

Start at the beginning: Here  

There was a desperate tone to Nahuel’s cry, breaking you out of your book. The tawny cat was on the outside, pawing at the glass with a frantic look in his eyes. A sense of dread settled in your stomach as you opened the window, letting him in. Except, instead of scrabbling to get inside, he grabbed the hem of your nightgown and tugged. A swear passed your lips as you grabbed your coat and climbed out onto the fire escape. For Nahuel to act so panicked and anxious...you didn’t even question his behavior. Obviously something was wrong, and he needed your help.

Nahuel’s usual leisurely pace was replaced with a full out run as he led you through the night--the exact opposite way of the ritzy brownstone of Graves’ apartment, which was more worrying than comforting. For nearly thirty minutes, you followed the cat through the near-silent streets of NewYork, not really paying attention to which way you were going. Instead your mind was running through worse case scenarios. Graves in danger, or hurt, or worse. Or maybe Credence, since the cat apparently had bonded with the boy as well.

Your racing thoughts were violently silenced as you turned another corner and was met with a war zone. It was like someone had taken a plow to the street, upturning the cement as easily as tilled soil. The buildings lining the street had huge pieces bombed out, glass littering the streets. Cars overturned and tossed like they were nothing but toys.

Nahuel noticed your sudden pause and yowled loudly half a block away. You snapped back to reality, something shifting away from panic into determination as you followed the cat into the rubble and then into a darkened alley. In the distance you could hear sirens wail, but closer… you could hear muffled sobbing.

“Hello?” You called out carefully as you stepped hesitantly over the broken bricks and other debris, wishing you had enough intelligence to throw one some kind of shoes before leaving. The sobbing was quickly silence with a hitched breath. “Hey, there--there’s no need to worry,” you tried to reassure, hoping you weren’t doing something incredibly stupid. “I ain't gonna hurt you.”

The silence was broken as a hoarse but still familiar voice stumbled over your name, making your heart pound.

“Credence?” Any hesitation was lost as you quickly clambered over the debris, no longer caring as you felt sharp rocks scratch your bare soles. Nahuel’s eyes appeared to glow in the dark, guiding you to the shivering young man huddled between two oddly untouched garbage bins. “Credence. Dear Lord, are you okay sweetie?” You quickly crouched down next to him, modesty and etiquette be damned.  It was hard to see anything more than his silhouette, but he felt cold and clammy, shaking beneath your light touch. “Honey, are ya hurt? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, words failing him.  However, as soon as you wrapped your arms around him, he quickly clutched onto you with his arms wrapping around your waist painfully tight. You took a moment to catch your breath, steeling yourself against the pain as you stroked his hair, murmuring reassurances all the while you could feel tears seep through your thin gown as he continued to try and muffle his crying but failing.

It wasn’t too long, however, that the distant police sirens were growing worryingly closer. You had no clue what happened here, but the last thing you wanted was the law being involved. “Honey, we need to get away from here. I don’t think either of us wants to try and answer what happened.” As much as it obviously hurt him, you pulled away and stood up, offering a hand to him. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

There was an obvious flinch, but he took your hand and stood, never losing his vice grip on it as you followed Nahuel out the undamaged half of the alley and hopefully away from the police. Thankfully, more and more people were filling the streets in curiosity, allowing you to blend in and become lost in the astonished crowd.

Well, as much as you could. Credence’s shoulders were curled and with his head bowed appeared as short as you, his arm tucked in yours, both his and your own knuckles white. As much as you were trying to pass by unnoticed, it was easy to spot the few looks you garnered. First a frown of concern, and then a disapproving look from the fact you were in a coat that barely covered your night gown, feet bare and bloodied.

Thankfully, they often looked away as soon as you met their disdain expression with the harshest glare you could muster.

After a few minutes of walking, the crowd thinned and left the sidewalks empty once more. Nahuel paused at the street corner, glancing curiously at you, wanting to know what the next step was. Your first instinct was to bring him home, to your place. Somewhere he was safe, where he was protected and cared for.

Except there was a strict no-men policy at the boarding house, and you were fairly Mrs. Shapiro wouldn’t believe you if you tried to explain to her that there was nothing between you and him. That you saw him like a brother, maybe even a son.  So, unfortunately, that only left one option.“Okay, honey, which way do you live?”

Credence swallowed thickly, finally looking up from the pavement, his eyes red and glossy in the street lights as he glanced over to you, and then down briskly what you wearing before looking away. “You-you don’t have to walk me home. I...you...mother…”

Instinctively, you wanted to argue. Every part of you was shouting that yes, you did. Because you were undeniably certain that whatever caused his mood was related to that other woman. Forget decency of walking around New York in your nightgown that barely covered your knees, you needed to have words with Mrs. Barebones. And if words proved too weak, maybe a harsher language would get your point across.

Except...except that would probably only make things worse for him, not better. After a long moment and with a resigned sigh, you nodded your head, though equally reluctant to let go of his hand as he was to let go of yours. “Okay. But ya gotta promise me. You need anything, you come to me. Even if it’s just for some company, okay? You know where I am.”

He nodded his head, and you gave into the urge to hug him one last time. You wanted to take back your words as he clutched at you desperately for a moment, face buried in your shoulder as he grabbed at your waist for comfort before forcing himself away. Out of sheer will you managed to keep your bare feet still as he turned and shuffled down the street. Nahuel hesitated, rubbing up against your leg before trotting after him, easing the anxiety and guilt gnawing at your soul.

***

Since Graves returned a few weeks ago, Nahuel hadn’t visited as often. Though, you also wondered if it wasn’t because the odd cat had taken to being with Credence more often, usually right by his side when he should up the few days he worked, and often leaving with him as well. And as glad as you were that he had bonded with the boy and obviously brought some happiness to Credence, a part of you was selfish and missed the cat, and the excuse to go visit Percival.

Without an excuse, you were too far shy to drop by his apartment. Would he be home? Have company? Be too busy for a social call? The few times you did escort Nahuel home, Graves looked...tired. He assured you many times that yes, he was getting sleep. Yes, he would take care of himself, and countered almost playfully that he wasn’t the one working two jobs alongside cat-sitting a very demanding pet.

Nahuel had baulked at that, his ears flicked back as he chirped disapprovingly. Which you hadn’t been aware a cat could do until he proved he could. Graves hadn’t appeared surprised, but merely glanced at him as the cat stalked away affronted before resuming the easy banter of seeing who was the worst workaholic.

A parting kiss on the knuckles was close to his lips as you got, but the look in his eyes still had butterflies dancing in your belly. You just wish you had enough bravado to at on it, instead of waiting for his lead.

Maybe he was waiting on you, and wasn’t that a strange thought. All those boys back home that had been put off by your independent, forward thinking, bossy attitude, and here was a man that all but encouraged it. Enjoyed it even. And he didn't seem to under the impression you were a loose woman as many men did at some nights.

Jake had called you bossy before, and now he was adding violent to your growing list of why you were going to be a spinster. It wasn’t your fault you pops had taught you how to defend yourself well before the age of sixteen. And you weren’t about to let him of all people down. So if a man was too close, too pushy, you told him off and pushed him back if a sharp word or look didn’t work.

You shook your head out of the clouds, trying to focus back on the newspaper splayed across the counter at McNally’s. You turned the page away from the front page that announced Senator Shaw’s plans to run for office yet another year, with a large picture of the young man. You had no care for politics, though the suffrage movement was starting to garner your attention. It was the next page that caught your attention, however. ‘Third gas explosion rocks New York this month.’

Another, far too familiar picture showed a wrecked building and streets. You could easily recall that night a few weeks ago when Nahuel led you to Credence in the alleyway; the boy shaking and shivering. Your gut twisted-you hadn’t seen him either lately, and ever since that night he seemed even more on edge, even more withdrawn. You hadn’t seen any bruises or anything, yet you had never been so worried.

Add to the fact you had seen gas explosions before, back home when the bar had developed one and the place blew sky-high. Flames were everywhere until someone had the smarts to turn off the main line. Even then, it took nearly a day to control the fire.

That night...no, that wasn’t a gas line. There was no explanation that you could think of for that kind of wreckage. Nothing….

Your eyes landed on one of the long-forgotten leaflets of the Barebone’s, tucked beneath the cashier and used as a scrap piece of paper to take notes and doodles. ‘Magic is real.’ Initially, you scoffed at the stray thought. No, it definitely was not. But as time progressed and the day wore on, the thought refused to die.

By the time Nahuel slinked in as the last customer ducked out, the thought had firmly took root. Witches, magic, unnatural power...it would actually explain a few things. “What do you think?” you asked the sleek cat as he jumped up on the counter, demanding as always for attention. “Witches and magic. Surly it’s a sign I’m insane, right?”

He paused, tilting his head just slightly as his sharp gaze peered right through you. Not accusatory, but almost...curious. For some reason, you felt yourself become flustered as you shook your head. “It has to be. I’ve lost it. The fact I’m even considering that superstitious hogwash is proof. Plus, I’m holding a conversation with a cat.” You rested your head in your hands with a groan. “I’m insane. Just lock me up in the nearest asylum. Tell my family I love them, and tell Jake and Dave they were right, I’m a nutcase.”

Nahuel only gave a light mew, rubbing against your arm. “Yeah, I suppose I should take you home first, huh? I may be crazy but I still need to have manners…” You paused as your eyes met Nahuel, not for the first time still stunned by the intelligence that lurked in them. “Credence always said his mother thought cats were witches familiars. That would make Mr. Graves…” You couldn’t even complete the thought, but dissolved into giggles as you thought of the sleek man with the iconic pointy black hat.

On a broomstick.

“Nope, I’m not getting that image out of my head,” you gasped for breath between the giggle of the hysterical nature. There were still a giggle occasionally escaping as you locked up the store, pulling your coat around tight as you both slipped into the night, virtually forgetting you still had the leaflet in hand as you walked with Nahuel. After all, it was just a silly, sleep-deprived thought.

Right?

***

“I thought you didn’t believe in that.”

The smile on Percival’s face faded as he caught a glimpse of the forgotten leaflet in your hand. You had really been aware of picking up the piece of paper, but you were more distracted and stunned by how quickly the warm, friendly expression had been replaced by a very careful, neutral mask after he opened the door and noticing the leaflet.

“I don’t...well, I mean it’s silly, but...I don’t know,” you sighed, too distracted to notice the tension only coil tighter in Grave’s frame as you looked at the leaflet. “I know that I hate this damn woman. I ain’t even met her and I hate her. And I know, well, I think...well, it’s more of a ‘I think I’m crazy yet I can’t shake this feeling’ kinda thing.”

“About what?”

You paused and looked up at him, noting that despite your winding rambling, that usually elicited at least a slight smile, there was absolutely nothing warm or welcoming to his expression. The relaxed pose he usually adopted was gone, and instead you were met with the same tension and seriousness of what you silently called his ‘lawman’ persona. That...that was more than a little odd, you thought. “Hey. it’s nothin. I’m just being silly. Overworked and overtired, ya know?”

Except his mood didn’t shift as he stood from the door frame he had been leaning on. Instead, the way he said your name sent icy shivers racing down your spine as his firm gaze locked with yours. “Tell. Me.”

“I, uh, well, it’s just odd, ya know?” you rambled despite yourself, unconsciously pulling your coat closer around your frame. “Those gas explosions that keep happening. They just...don’t seem right, ya know? I saw one, that first one. Nahuel led me there, I have no clue what that child was doing there but...there ain’t no way that was caused by a gas leak.”

“Child? What child?” He demanded, and for a moment you felt honestly afraid for a moment by the look in his eye.

“Credence,” you answered. “Percival...is everything okay?”

In  the blink of an eye, a very polite but distant smile replaced the cold, severe look that had had you actually almost fearing the man. “Yes. However, I have something to attend to.”

Despite his words, you didn’t feel reassured as he turned and disappeared into his apartment without the usual kiss goodbye. If anything, you felt disquieted as you left, as if something shifted between the two of you. And not for the better.

***

Graves rested his head on the closed door, one fist resting against the wood while the other fist shook at his sides, the familiar weight of his wand not reassuring in between his fingers.

He knew. He knew this would happen. There as a reason Rappaport’s law was in place. A reason for the separation of the magical and no-maj worlds.

But damn it, why? Why her? Why now?

He should have known better. He should have obviated her weeks ago. He should have found a way to keep Nahuel from persistently drawing the no-maj to him. He should have never befriended her.

He should have never fallen in love.

But he had, damnit. He had fallen head over heels for her.

A sharp crack of magic shattered the bookcases, sending paper and the magic-detectors flying. Nahuel jumped and hissed from his napping place in an arm chair; his arched back and fluffed fur unnoticed as Graves kept throwing spells out of anger towards the furniture.

He was the Director of Magical Security.

He should have known better.

She was a no-maj

He should have known better.

This should have never happened.

He should have known better.

After a minute of throwing curses and hexes around his apartment, Graves collapsed into the leather chair, running a hand through his hair. This was disaster. A horrendous mistake.

From the chair across from his, Nahuel growled once more, earning a dark look from the wizard. “Don’t,” Graves warned, pointing his ebony wand at the half-wampus. “You started this. None of this would have happened if you would have left her alone.”

Nahuel’s ruffled fur smoothed down along his spine, though his ears continued to point backwards, his gold-green eyes  narrowed as his tail thrashed in protest and defiance. He didn’t think the suspicion was worth the overreaction, and apparently felt no remorse for his actions.

Graves sighed as he ran a hand through his hair one last time before restoring the room to its former glory with a flick of his wand. Shards of the glass melded together, pages mending themselves as books reformed and took their places on the restored shelves. Finally, the small scopes and other dark-magic detectors found their places among the old tomes.

But what caught his eyes was the miniature version of the Macusa’s magical-exposure threat clock, which was the last to settle before his family’s heirlooms. He expected it to be at the Level 4 ‘Danger’ it had ticked to that day of the first unusual activity. Or worse, Level 5 ‘Immediate Threat’ or, fates-forbid, a Level 6 Emergency.  

Instead, it had clicked it’s bronze hand back to Level 3 ‘High Alert’. That was...odd. Graves frowned and flicked his wrist, summoning the object. It was no bigger than a paperweight, and a quick spell assured it was still functioning correctly. Still connected to the master clock at Macusa’s headquarters.

Granted, it could all just be a coincidence. Except Graves was very skeptic of such things, his years of working as an Auror, and especially the last few as the Director, had dashed any belief of coincidences.

Everything was connected. Especially when magic was involved. Especially with her close proximity to Credence and the Second Salemers. They were all somehow linked to the unusual incidences. It linked to the boy, he was sure of that, but he couldn’t prove it, or find any substantial links. And he didn’t want to act on a whim and risk provoking whatever force they were dealing without assuring that he could handle it. Without knowing he could protect the magical world. The city. The boy. The woman.

All of the Macusa’s laws and protocols demanded that the no-maj be obviated, and that he focus on his priorities. Yet, his instinct cautioned against that path. If her involvement lessened the risk, surely it warranted special consideration. After all, she didn’t know. Not yet.

He would hold off with wiping her memory, but he did need to distance himself. As much as he didn’t want to.

But Credence...he had been there. Graves swore to himself again. As if the abnormality wasn’t odd enough, wasn’t causing him enough stress, she had to give him further proof that whatever was wrecking his city was tangled with those No-maj scourers.

Next

[snippychicke]

Of Monsters & Men--Six

I didn’t die. We’re going to a new charting program and since I’m on the most computer-proficient person on the ‘off’ hours (aka, when management is gone) I’m deemed the superuser for the PM/Noc shift of a 200 bed, four-unit facility. THE ONLY PERSON. I have my House RN asking me for help along with other nurses and aides. It’s insane. 

@idesinfection, @crowleys-poppet-queen-of-asgard @aislinsekhem

Title: Of Monsters and Men

Rating:  Not quite innocent (T)

Chapter: Six

You felt incredibly self-conscious as you pulled your longcoat a little tighter around your body when Graves opened the door and gave you long look. It was bad enough walking around New York all dressed up, especially with the hem of your dress actually shorter than your coat. But facing Percival  with that expression on his face...well, your face was feeling extremely warm while your heart fluttered nervously. “Ehehe, hi.”

“Date night?” he asked rather politely after a moment, and you were fairly sure you imagined the flash of...something on his face, and if there had been something, it was gone before you could even guess what it could be.

“What? Oh, no. No no no.” You hesitated before undoing the buttons of the coat, revealing the slinky knee-length dress that almost glittered in the light. “I, uh, I got the part time gig at the 90th ave. club. Back up singer with some waitressing,” you admitted, “Nahuel caught me on the way there.”

The cat, which had been watching you two with a glint in his eye, sniffed slightly before he brushed past Graves, completely unnoticed. His master shifted slightly, leaning against the doorpost as he relaxed with a slight smile on his face, which did absolutely nothing good for your blush, or your heart for that matter. It should be completely illegal for someone to look that good, you thought. Slicked back hair, pressed white shirt that was slightly unbuttoned and sleeves pushed up past the elbows, and black slacks that showcased his long legs.

“Well, you look beautiful.” He said after a brief moment, making your eyes jump back up to his, noticing that wicked little smirk on his lips at catching you. You had to glance away, embarrassed at being caught.

But, to be fair, he had ogled you first.

Oh gosh.

“I, ah, th-thank you.” You stuttered after a second. “You too....! I-I mean, uh, um, well shit.”

There was a warm, rich laughter that filled the hallway and made your stomach flutter. You had heard him chuckle before, but not a full laugh like that. Your mind blanked for a moment as you stared again, transfixed by how much his face changed with a wide smile on it. “Would you like an escort, my lady?” he asked after a moment, warm smile still on his lips.

“I, uh, I can handle it,” you stuttered out, “You don’t need to keep inconveniencing yourself  on my behalf, Mr. Graves. Not-not that I mind! I really do enjoy your company, I really do. I just really  hate to be a nuisance when you’ve been nothing but kind to me…” you trailed off weakly as he pushed off the doorpost and stalked towards you, reminding you rather of an oversized cat. Dangerous but beautiful. And for the second time you were backed up against the wall, with Percival Graves far too close for comfort.

Not that you minded this time. Not at all. Especially with that light in his dark eye. A new, far more pleasant knot formed in the pit of your stomach as you bumped into the wall, thankful it would at least keep on your feet as your knees decided to become jelly.

“M-Mr. Graves….”

“Percival.”

“Percival,” you corrected yourself a little ashamed over how breathless you sounded. How breathless you felt.

“Now, miss,” he continued, your name rolling languidly off his tongue, “I asked if you wanted company. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to.”

“W-well, if you--if you want....”

“Do you want me too?” he interrupted huskily. By now, he was closer than when he interrogated  you over Credence. His arm braced on either side of you, his nose  nearly brushing yours.

Close enough to kiss.

Was he going to?

Did you want him too?

Ok, that was an obviously a stupid question. You unconsciously licked your lips, all to aware of his gaze follow your tongue as he mimicked it. You had completely forgotten his question; and had your mind worked, you would’ve guessed he had forgotten as well. His nose brushed against yours again, one hand coming up to brush your cheek tenderly. Your eyes fluttered close as his breath ghosted over your lips.

And a shrill alarm broke through the tense silence, followed by a curse from Percival. You were both stunned and lost as he withdrew, blinking rapidly as your mind tried to process what was going on. Or rather, what wasn’t.

“I’m sorry, my lady, but duty calls.” He pressed a quick kiss to your knuckles before  he disappeared back into his apartment.

What….

What just happened?

***

The next morning you woke to a warm body curled alongside yours.

A warm, furry, and purring one.

You pulled back your blanket, not that surprised to see a tawny ball of fur pressed against your stomach. A golden eye lazily opened, blinking slightly before he shifted slightly and went back to sleep.

“How in the world…” you trailed off, staring dumbfoundedly at the cat. “You need me to open doors for you, yet I’m pretty sure no one let you in here.”The only answer you got was a slight flick of his ear, making you sigh and give into the urge of scratching the fur between his ears. “You are one strange cat.”

You glanced over at the clock on your nightstand; nine in the morning, and thankfully your day off. Even better, the other girls apparently had respected your request not to be woken. Your gig at the club had lasted until one, and you had finally crawled into bed sometime after three in the morning.

It was hard to miss the off-white envelope leaning against the golden alarm clock, your name written in perfect penmanship. Nahuel barely budged as you reached for the letter and carefully opened it, pulling out a simple white card.

There’s a development that requires my attention. I’m afraid I’ll be gone for a few days. Don’t worry about Nahuel, he can take care of himself.

I look forward to seeing you again ~P.G.

You felt flush as you read and then re-read the simple note, especially as your mind recalled the husky quality to his voice as you read the last sentence. This could turn out to be much more than you anticipated. More than you could have even dared to wish for.

Your bedmate complained as you suddenly sat up, giving you a dark look as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. It was suddenly far too warm beneath the blankets, especially the warm furnace that was Nahuel. This was unreal. When you had announced your plans to move from your small town to New York, your family and friends accused you of having a silly dream like this. Striking it rich and meeting some ritzy man and falling head-over-heels in love.

You hadn’t; you just wanted a more interesting life than a small town could offer. You figured you could meet an average Joe that was more tolerable than the uneducated boys back home, and between the two of you make a decent life. Just along as you didn’t become a boring housewife like your sisters and friends.

But here you were, in a quasi-friendship with a quickly developing romantic twinge with one hell of a handsome, if intensely mysterious, man. Who also had one very odd cat.

Speaking of which, you noticed the edge of the note had a small, semi-circular indent rather reminiscent of a cat bite. You looked back to the light bronze cat, who had claimed your pillow as the proper place to give himself a bath. “I suppose you delivered this,” you joked, though only partially. Logic dictated that it was probably one of the girls that snuck into your room and left it. Except, you were a rather light sleeper, and you would have woken to the groan and creak of the old door opening.

Nahuel paused, shooting you a look that almost looked defensive before he resumed grooming. You chuckled as you gave into the temptation of running your hand through the thick fur, which he leaned up into, and followed your hand back to your lap, demanding more. “You are a very odd cat indeed. And as much as I care for you, Mrs. Shapiro will kill both of us if she sees you.”

Nahuel gave a small chirp in return as he stretched out on you, very nonchalant. “Fine, but if you get caught, don’t say I didn’t tell you.” Maybe you should be worried you were so used to talking to the cat as if heh could understand you...but honestly, you almost believed he could.

Nauhel virtually ignored you as you got dressed; having previously promised McNally to come in around noon or ‘whenever you get your lazy bones out of bed.’

Except as you did finally leave the boarding house, sure that the cat had still been lounging on your pillow, you found him waiting at the street corner. It surprised you for a moment, giving him a look as he more-or-less led you to work. Really, you hoped McNally was more accepting of the feline than Shapiro.

But still, it was rather odd of him...or maybe he was use to spending the day with Graves and felt rather lonely. It was still odd he knew exactly where the corner store was, and showed no hesitation in finding a spot in the shelves behind the counter to lounge and watch as people came and went during the afternoon.

“Ma’am? Is that your cat?”

You finished ringing-up a customer, glancing at Credence whose focus was on said cat behind you. Which, of course. What other cat was there? Still, you looked up at nahuel, whose eyes were just barely open as you answered. “Not exactly. He belongs to a friend. But I’m looking after him. Or maybe he’s looking after me.”

Nahuel chirped lightly, apparently finding the last one more accurate. He jumped down from his shelf and onto the counter, spooking Credence slightly-more out of the sudden movement than anything. You were rather surprised as Credence barely hesitated before reaching out to scratch Nahuel behind the ears, apparently familiar with him. And Nahuel, who hissed or ignored people, was just eating up the attention, his purr loud enough you could easily hear it.

“You know him?”

Credence looked slightly abashed, glancing only briefly at you as he focused on the cat. “He finds me sometimes. When I’m alone. He’s...a rather strange cat.”

Apparently, and more than you had realized. “Yes, he is, isn’t he?”

Next

[snippychicke]

Of Monsters & Men-- Seven

I am finally getting the hang of this. I have added links to the old chapters and have thoughts about making a master post.

Tagging: @idesinfection, @crowleys-poppet-queen-of-asgard @aislinsekhem

Title: Of Monsters and Men

Rating: Innocent (G)

Chapter: Seven

---> Go to first chapter

The days wore into a week. The first real mundane week since moving to New York. Modesty and Credence broke the monotony twice; the bruise a garish yellow-green as it lingered on his cheek. He refused to say who caused it, or why. Modesty had made a passing comment that their mother was upset about something, but seemed as if she was too scared to say why.

You were sorely tempted to hunt down the woman and demand an answer. Except you were fairly sure no matter what her answer was, it wouldn’t be justifiable in your opinion and she would end up with something worse than a bruised cheek. And well, the only benefit of that was enjoying the cumple of her nose against your fist, and nothing else.

Instead, you fussed over the pair, and beamed the day you finally got a full smile out of the boy, as brief as it was.

Then there was Nahuel, who decided he would tempt fate and continue to stay with you while Graves was absent. How he got in and out of your small room, without being seen nonetheless, was a complete mystery to you. But he came and and went as he pleased, and often waited by the club on your nights to work, proving to be a gentleman as he walked with you home. Often hissing at people that came to close, which threw you for a loop considering how fond he was towards not only you, but the rare times he showed up while the Barebone Siblings were visiting McNally’s. Yet, you had grown rather thankful for his odd behavior, considering the people that were wont to linger in the shadows that late at night. Really, you were going to miss his company once Graves returned.

Whenever that was.

There was no doubt he was some type of lawman. Obviously no street cop. Detective maybe? Or something higher? FBI? Or some other secretive government agency?

One week slowly marched into two, and you simply prayed he would make it home safe

***

“That boy is racking up a fair amount of money,” McNally commented chewing on his cigar as you took a seat before him. He had called you into his office for some unnamed reason, though now you had an unsettling feeling why. After all, there was no need to ask which boy he was talking about. The same boy facing a panic attack when you asked him to mind the cash register while you talked with McNally.

Credece.

“And I remind you,” McNally continued, his eyes peering over his glasses as you tensed in his chair, ready to defend your part time helper. “His pay is coming out of your salary. That’s all I want to talk to you about, so calm down mother bear.”

You flushed but relaxed into the wooden chair, crossing you legs. “Sorry. But I don’t see why that concerns me. Shouldn’t you talk to him?

McNally shook his head. “He’s scared spitless and he’s a little slow. I don’t have the time or patience for him. Besides, he’s your pet project, not mine. You though?” He paused and took a deep huff of his cigar, holding it for a moment before releasing the smoke, “I have a soft spot for spitfire that aren’t afraid to hold their own. And I know you been pullin’ two jobs, and that ain’t right. I made sure when I hired ya your salary would be enough.”

“It is enough!” You assured quickly. “Even with Credence sharing my pay, I can still handle my rent for Mrs. Shapiro and send some back to Pa for the loan. I picked up the club mainly so I could get experience.”

“But if you had that money, you’d be out of that slum of a house!” McNally shot back, shaking a finger at you. “I know you plan on getting your own apartment--Lord knows why, New York ain’t a place for a girl like you all by herself. But the point stands: you need that money, not that boy. He has that crazy family of his looking after him. And he ain’t taking a dime back to them, so they must not be too hard pressed.”

Mention of his family ruffled your feathers as you adjusted in your chair.“Pardon my french, but that damn mother of his obviously don’t give a lick about him. And you know that just as well as I do. Credence earned that money fair and square. It’s his.”

“Damn it,” he swore, moving his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. “You’re one fiery lil hellcat, I swear. I’m just trying to look out for ya.”

“And I appreciate it,” you said, “But I have things handled. If I wanna give half my paycheck to someone, that’s my business.”

McNally sighed and gestured towards the door. “Alright, fine. If that’s how you wanna do it, back to work with you. Lord knows if that boy can do anything without holding your hand.”

“I don’t, and you know that,” you argued as you stood, albeit a little playfully. “Half the time he’ll get things done before I even have time to wonder about it. He’s a better worker than I am.” Your sass only to earn a dark look and him to point at the door. Still, you thought as you left the cramped office and joined Credence behind to counter just a short few feet away, McNally was far from a bad boss. How many really looked out for the employees like he did, and allowed you to convince him to take on Credence as part-time help instead of just firing you for your mouth.  

There was barely a flinch when you put your hand on his shoulder when you stepped up beside him. The tension vanished nearly instantly once he realized who you were. You had no time to question the slight blush to his face as you took his spot that he gladly abandoned for the quietness of the stockroom. The pre-supper rush tended to be quick paced, and today was no exception. Little was spoken outside what was needed until near closing, when the store was finally empty save the two of you.

“Ma’am,” Credence spoke softly, breaking the simple silence and surprising you. Rarely he was the first one to speak. As per usual, his eyes were trained on the floor instead of you, but he still seemed to know when he had your attention. “I-I heard you and Mr. McNally speaking earlier…” The young man clutched at the broom in his hands expecting a verbal backlash for eavesdropping, but you were currently backpedalling mentally, trying to figure out how this conversation was going to go.

Your silence was enough to make him look up, his dark eyes hesitantly meeting yours. “That money, you can have it. I don’t need it.”

That...was not what you expected. You gave a relieved sigh as you relaxed. “Honey, I’m serious about what I said to him. That money is yours. You earned it. A worker must be paid his wages, right?”

He glanced away slightly, “But, if you need it…”

“I don’t need it,” you assured him. “I’m making do just fine. McNally just likes to fuss. But,” you continued after a second, “You know, we should get ya a bank account to sock it away in. It’ll earn interest that way, you know?”

“...But why?” he asked after a moment, sending you a slightly confused look. “I already don’t have a need for it.”

You shrugged, “For when you decide to strike it on your own. You won’t be like me, paying back a loan. You’ll have a head start.”

There was a long moment of silence that made you pause and glance back at him, only to have him virtually frozen still, an odd expression on his face. You were beginning to worry you had somehow broken him, considering the tight enough grip on the wooden handle of the broom his knuckles were turning white, his whole body tense. “Credence?” you spoke softly, hoping not to startle him. “Credence, honey, what is it?”

He blinked, the odd look not quite disappearing as much as you realized what it was.

Hope.

“Do-do you think…” he spoke, swallowing thickly. “That I could…that I could….”

“Move out?” you finished for him, grinning as he nodded his head. “Of course. I mean, everyone has to at some point, you know? Spread their wings and start flying on their own. And you’re about that age, yeah?”

He nodded his head wordlessly once more, and you could virtually see his mind working, dreaming of the possibilities and you about wanted to jump for joy. A small smile started to twitch on his lips, hope overcoming the haunted shadows in his dark eyes, making him look like a completely different person.

And in a flash, it was gone. His look crumpled as he looked away, shaking his head. “No. No, I can’t. I owe Ma, and I don’t want to leave Modesty.”

There was an urge to howl in frustration, to take him by the shoulders and tell him he owed his mother nothing. That you would figure out the way to keep Modesty safe, but you bit your tongue instead. You had learned quickly on that confronting him outright usually only ended in him withdrawing into himself more, undoing the progress you had achieved to get him to open up.

Instead, you too a breath and put on a faint smile. “We’ll still open that account for ya. Just in case.”

***

Third week and no Graves. You tried to push away your worries. He would be fine. Surely, surely you would know somehow if he wasn’t.

Except who would think to tell you? To the world, you were nobody. Nobody would link you with him. There was no reason to. He may know everything about you, but you knew virtually nothing about him.

You pushed those worries away as you swayed on the stage of the 90th Ave Club. A small joint, but usually fairly busy. You were growing use to the crowds, rarely ever missing a beat from the small band tucked in the stage around you. It was no Broadway, but better than the bar back home. Especially after the Prohibition drained any fun out of that place.

During your mindless scanning of the crowds, your mind registered something familiar. It was a little tricky to remember the words as you recognized the man leaning on the counter at the bar, but the smile on your face was anything but fake.

Percival Graves. In one piece. He noticed and raised the glass in his hand towards you, a slight smile on his face. You grinned wider in return, swaying your hips a little bit more as you closed your eyes, relief flooding through you as you finished the song. He was okay. He was back, in one piece. He was here.

The boys of the band gave you an odd look as the song ended and you darted off stage instead of hanging back with them per usual. They picked up a wordless melody as you zig-zagged around the dance floor to the bar.

Of course, it would be when you were next to him your bravado failed you, and nervousness set in as you slid carefully into the stool next to him. “H-hey.”

The was a weary expression on his face that bespoke of a long three weeks, but his smile was anything but fake. “Hey, he replied, motioning to the bartender-was it John or James, you couldn’t remember. “You’re pretty good up there. A voice to match your looks.”

You flushed even more, accepting the glass of water from John (no, Jake, that was it.). “T-thanks. I, um, I’m glad you came. Well, that you’re back, and you’re okay, I was kinda worried. I-I mean, I’m sure you're good at your job--whatever it is-- and all, I’m just a worry wort and why do I always just ramble around you?” You ended with a very unladylike groan as you rested your head on the bar counter, hoping the granite would cool you burning face.

Especially when a warm chuckle answered you, Graves reaching over to soothingly brush the hair along your neck, his fingers ghosting down your spine until it met the dress  between your shoulderblades. “I find it to be rather charming, honestly.”

“At least there’s that.” You sat back up, taking a sip of water and wished it was the moonshine that the place had hidden down in the cellar. “Because it embaresses the heck out of me.”

“That may be part of the charm,” he replied, and you snuck a glance to see the little smirk on his lips. Honestly, how could a man look so tired but yet have a warmth and energy in his eyes to make your heart flutter. Especially as his hand gently brushed the hair from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear.

“You must be quite the ladies man, Mr. Graves,” you said softly, unwilling to break whatever was happening between you, but also trying to keep yourself firmly stuck in reality and not wherever la-la land your head and heart were trying to lead you. “I don’t know why you bother with little ol’ me. I ain’t nothing special.”

The smile faded slightly as his hand fell from your face, “You don’t realize how unique you are. To me, at least.”

You felt more than a little guilty at the dark look that flashed in his eyes as he turned back to his own drink. You bit your lip, and after a moment of deliberation you reached across to twine your fingers with the hand resting on his thigh. “Hey, um, well, I’m glad you do put up with me. I really do enjoy it.” You offered a smile as he glanced towards you, which became a bit brighter as he squeezed softly. “But, be honest with me Mr. Graves,” you didn’t fail to notice the tension in his shoulders at your words, though you filed that away in your mind as you continued, “did you get any sleep these last three weeks? You look like death warmed over.”

The tension evaporated with a chuckle. “Well, if we’re being honest here...not as much as I should have, perhaps.”

“Then what the heck are doing here, Mr. Graves? You should be in bed, dead to the world for at least eight hours, if not more. I’m sure you deserve the break.”

One brow rose in amusement as he turned more towards you. You were all to aware of where the dark fabric of his slacks brushed against your bare knee, how tight his grip was on your hand. “You’ve become quite the bossy woman since I left.”

“Well, um, that’s...actually quite normal for me. You just fluster me too much.”

“She’s an absolute terror when she gets started,” Jake agreed, surprising both of you by his sudden, uninvited, presence. “Believe me, it’s no wonder why she isn’t married yet.” You gave the man a dark look, which went completely ignored as he filled your cups and disappeared again. By the time you looked back at Graves, there was no somber shadow left in his expression, which at least helped the embarrassment....

Okay, not really. But it was at least distracting .

“If you must know, I came to see you,” he confessed after a moment, thumb mindlessly rubbing across your knuckles. “I just wanted to see you again before I dealt with the aftermath of paperwork.”

Oh.

Well.

You slid off the bar stool, taking courage to lean up against him and press a kiss to his cheek, the short stubble scratching your lips in a pleasant way. You lingered against him when he shifted so his hands could rest on your hips, his own breath ghosting along your neck. Your eyes fluttered close as his nose brushed yours, hesitant.

And you were going to kill David as he hissed your name sharply, calling you to come back to reality and on stage. Your eyes opened to meet Percival’s, admitting to yourself you would be perfectly content to answer that warm, heady look in his gaze--screw what everyone else thought. Unfortunately, the only kiss you received was a soft, lingering press of lips to your forehead before he drew away. “I’ll see you when I can.”  

“Get some sleep first, okay?” You answered softly, “or I’ll start fussing at you too, and you don’t want that.”

David used your last name as he stalked closer, obviously impatient and you knew you were in for a searing lecture, but couldn’t find the heart to care as Graves pressed as kiss to your knuckles. “As you wish, my lady.”

Next

[snippychicke]

Of Monsters & Men -- Five

I have found the schedule feature of Tumblr. And it’s a girl’s best friend in my humble opinion. 

Shout outs: @idesinfection, @crowleys-poppet-queen-of-asgard @aislinsekhem

Title: Of Monsters and Men

Rating: Between Innocent and Not quite innocent. So...PG ish?

Chapter: Five

The rain had stayed through the day, washing out the smoke and pollution out of the sky. Unfortunately a dreary slow day did not help you feel any less exhausted. The long lull between customers left you time to mull over your early wake up call, cursing Nahuel until your mind traveled to his owner.

Percival Graves.

Those few meetings when you barely spoke more than a few words, he had seemed a polite but distant man, with a lot more patience that a saint with that cat of his. Which explained how he could walk you home that first night, enduring it silently when you had talked incessantly the whole way.

Okay, maybe you had been a little attracted to him, and after the third visit from Nahuel, you may have looked forward to it as much as you were flustered. But what sane girl wouldn’t? Sleek, handsome, obviously well-off. And that damn little smirk he wore when amused by whatever you nervously chattered about before excusing yourself.

But this morning, it was easy to see how tense he had been despite being exhausted. His slight tease made you certain he was some lawman, but he obviously didn’t want to share so you didn’t push. Instead you refrained to a simple chatter, which apparently helped him relax slowly along the way.

You were beginning to feel comfortable yourself by the time you reached Mrs. Shapiro’s, until he gave you a tired smile and a slight kiss to your knuckles as he bid you goodnight. Or rather, a good day.

Your face was warm at the mere thought. It was an old fashioned gesture, but then again, you were raised in a different world were gentlemen acts were ‘hey, I got ya a few wildflowers that ain't from your own field.’ It was meant as an innocent gesture, with no attachment. No secret or implied meaning.

It had to be, right? There was no way a man like him would be interested in a silly girl like yourself. That only happened in romance novels, not real life.

A crack of sharp thunder brought you out of your thoughts. The rain was pouring down now, making everyone rush for cover. Except for one lean older-teen in black. You flustered thoughts quickly gave into a maternal annoyance as you quickly left your post. What in heaven’s name was he doing?

“Hey, boyo!” you called out as you opened the store door against the driving rains, and barely got a reaction. “Credence, come in here!” There was an automatic flinch at the strong tone of your words, making you wince yourself as he turned towards you. You offered a smile as you waved your hand, gesturing to come in. There was a definite moment of hesitation before he slinked towards you. Oddly, Modesty wasn’t anywhere in sight, “You silly kid, you're gonna catch a cold,” you tried to chide in a warm tone to ease the tension in his curved shoulders as he passed you.

But there was no change as he mumbled ‘sorry’, keeping close to the door as you shut it. You sighed and patted him on the arm slightly, feeling even worse at another flinch. Nothing about this day was going well. “It’s okay, honey. You make yourself at home and I’ll go fix us a couple of hot drinks. Okay?” All you got was a stiff nod, earning another internal sigh before you headed back  towards the stove in the backroom. When you came back a few minutes later, he was still standing in the doorway, a puddle of rainwater around his feet as he anxiously fiddling with his hat.

“Here, have some chocolate….” You offered the mug of cocoa, your eyes catching the purple and blue mark on his cheek as you trailed off. He flinched and pulled back as you instinctively reached towards the bruise. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he answered quietly but quickly. “It’s nothing.”

You paused before taking his hand softly, doing your best not to spook him as you led him to the small set of tables, setting down the drinks on the hardwood tops. Before settling in the bench seat beside him. “Credence, I’m your friend.” You didn’t miss the way he paused, or the brief glance towards you. You offered a smile as you took his hand once more. “We’re friends. And as friends, we help one another.”

He tensed at that  his hand limp in yours. “What do you need help with?” his tone broke your heart. Resigned, almost apathetic. You tightened your grip on his, ducking so you could look up in his dark eyes with a smile.

“Sweetie, I don’t need anything. I meant that if you need help, you just need to tell me and I will do my absolute best to help.”

He didn’t look up, but you could feel him tense, his slack grip becoming like a vice. It was easy to see his face scrunched, trying to hold back tears. It felt like hell to untangle your hand from his, earning an absolutely wounded expression before you wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders, resting your chin on his damp hair.  He quickly gave into the motion, his hands gripping at the fabric at your waist as his body trembled slightly at first, and then devolved into full-body sobs.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you tried to soothe, though if anything the words of reassurement only made him cry harder. Still, you kept whispering softly, rubbing circles along his back as you rocked back and forth. You knew you shouldn’t jumpto conclusions that you should wait until he could find the strength to explain what happened.

But add the fact that you knew his mother was a harsh woman made your mind already label her as the culprit. How a woman could be unkind towards her own children was unfathomable to you, but there was those hints that both Credence and Modesty were both adopted. Yet, what was the difference? To willingly bring a child to your house and then treat them in such a way that daring to say anything out of turn brought such a panicked look that floored you every time. It was no better. Actually, it was worse. She voluntarily brought them into her home.

And you couldn’t see Credence doing something to earn a mark like that. He offered no question when you asked him to something. His eyes lighting every time at the smallest of compliments. He wasn a hellion as you had been, admittingly deserving of every bit of punishment your parents had dealt.

Forget dislike, you were pretty sure you hated Mrs. Barebones.

***

It was a few days after that when Nahuel caught you at the corner outside of McNally’s after twilight. You were too tired to even protest slightly, and instead followed him along the sidewalks, silently wondering not for the first time how smart the cat was as he paused for traffic, a keen eye following the automobiles until he deemed it safe to cross.

Or maybe you were just too tired and the stress of the week was wearing on you. Heck, the stress of everything since you moved to New York. It was probably enough to make anyone go crazy.

Oddly, once you reached Graves apartment and knock lightly with the shiny knocker, there was a serious expression on his face once he opened the door. “How do you you know Credence Barebone?” You didn’t even had time for a ‘hi’ before his sharp words, the bluntness of the question throwing you for a moment. Paired with the severe expression on his face and the cold glint in his dark eyes and you felt an unpleasant knot form in your stomach.

“He and his sister hand out flyers by my shop,” you answered defensively, crossing your arms defiantly. “Why? How do you know him?”

He shook his head as he stalked towards you, far to reminiscent of his cat for you not to notice, though far more predatory. A part of your mind threw up red flags as you backpedaled until he had you pinned up against the hallway wall. One arm placed on the wall beside your head, supporting him as he leaned in close. You weren't sure if you were more flustered or fearful as you continued to hold his sharp gaze “Are you a member of the Second Salemers?”

Belatedly, you realized this wasn’t the friendly Percival you knew. This was the lawman that you had rightly suspected him to be, and this was an interrogation. “No, I’m not,” you answered, not looking away from the piercing gaze.  If you believed in such thing, you would've thought he was looking right into your soul, searching for answers himself. Like his damn cat. But you didn’t flinch, but tried to stand a little taller, letting your flickering anger replace the fear. “I think what they’re preaching is a bunch of superstitious hogwash. I feel sorry for the boy and took pity on him. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. I ain't got nothing to hide.”

He searched your face a moment longer before sighing, his whole body relaxing. The chill in the air disappeared as his breath ghosted over you. “I’m sorry,” he apologized after a moment. As he met your eyes again, it wasn’t nearly as intimidating. If anything, it was almost a vulnerable expression that had crossed his face. “It’s just...those people are dangerous and the boy….”

“There’s nothing dangerous about Credence,” you defended hotly as he trailed off. “He’s a strange boy, but there isn’t a single mean bone his body.”

A very faint smile reached his lips, his eyes warming slightly. Fondly. “No, there isn’t, is there?”

“So why the interrogation?” You asked, trying to keep your mind on that and not how close he was pressed to you. “How do you know Credence?”

The warmth in his eyes dimmed just a little. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he withdrew. Part of you missed the closeness while the rest of you felt a little relieved. Too much. Too much intensity, too much...everything with this man. “I can’t say...sorry.”

“Mr. Graves…” you pressed as he turned and walked back, only to have him shake his head as he paused to glance back at you. You sighed, unwilling to break the silent truce not to press him for answers. Instead, you gave him an exasperated look with a faint smile. “You’re turning into quite the mystery man, Percival Graves.”

His lips quirked back into his little smirk, and that fluster that had died with your defensive fury. “That’s part of the charm, isn’t it?” he ended, letting your name roll off his tongue, making you flush. You would never forget the glint in his eye as he closed the door.

Oh. You felt your heart pounding as you walked down the stairs in a daze.

Did he....

No, surely not.

But that seemed a bit flirty.

No, it was probably him just apologizing in his own way.

But….

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. More than likely that was nothing and you were just trying to imply what you wanted. Yes. That had to be it.

***

Graves watched from the window as the no-maj woman slipped into the dying sunlight, able to keep an eye on her while she melded with the crowds until she turned the corner. He sighed as he turned away, and saw Nahuel grooming himself on top of the bookcase. “I don’t know why you keep leading her here, but it has to stop.”

The half-wampus paused, his golden eyes looking down at the wizard, silently baulking at the idea. “I’m serious, Nahuel,” he continued sternly, knowing the creature was intelligent enough to understand. “She’s a no-maj, you know what that means.”

Nahuel flicked his tail, his stare not wavering from Graves. “One of these days, she’ll figure out the truth, and I’ll have to obliviate her. It would be better for her if I didn’t have to do that.”

Nahuel’s tail thumped against the bookcase, easily spotting the half-truth and calling the wizard out on it. One Obliviate wouldn’t hurt her...but it would him. He had grown too use to seeing her throughout the week. His kind gave him respect with a good dose of fear, and he was fine with that. Wanted it. But it was a nice change to have someone close that didn’t simply see him as Director of Magical Security.

He didn’t want to lose that.

He...didn’t want to lose her.

He liked it when Nahuel seemed to know when he needed a break. When he was so wrapped up in the work he brought home and didn’t even realize it until there was that light knock on the door. It was like a breath of fresh air every time, to the point of whenever he felt stressed and overwhelmed, there was an urge to see her. Which was why he had found the small corner store, only to see here with Credence wrapped in her arms.

That had hurt more than he cared to admit.

He shouldn’t want her in the first place, he told himself angrily. She was a no-maj. There shouldn’t be anymore than a simple acquaintance between them. But, there was no denying to himself that he thought of her as a friend; that part of him wanted her more than just a friend. To see her smile, and to listen to her chatter on, or hear her bright laugh that seemed to make even time stop for a few moments.

And that fire that had shone in her eyes. So boldly protective of the boy, which was something Credence needed. Someone able to be there for him, someone his side that wouldn’t defer to that Scourer.

Because, as much as he wanted to. He couldn’t.

Next

First