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#before i was even out of the car i saw a drop-dead pretty gal
windstrider2017 · 3 years
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Containment breach: not-so-local human disaster allowed to be in public and socialize
#afaik i actually managed to not make a complete ass of myself which is great#but omg#HOW DID I EVEN STAY FUNCTIONAL TODAY#before i was even out of the car i saw a drop-dead pretty gal#i'm pretty sure i'm not even attracted to women romantically or whatever but she was so pretty. like stop-in-your-tracks pretty#so i sort of stalled for a minute in the car#then i walk into the store and there's a cute guy there and i think we both sort of liked each other? lord help me#when i have that mini 'oh. oh shit' moment (aka he smiles and i literally have trouble even looking at him) i lowkey panic a little#(but in a good way) but then there's another pretty girl. rip me#i am literally sweating at this point. partly bc all the layers i'm wearing in 80+ degrees and partly bc Oh Shit How Do I Function#then i go into the ice cream shop and then there's a cute guy at the counter too!!! fuck!!!#at least i was wearing a mask in there so nobody saw my probably-red face and stupid grin#i'm totally one of those people who goes like. brainless. panic mode. goofy smiling and laughing. when i have a crush on somebody#i think at one point in the lax shop my voice went up so much that it almost cracked#thankfully i was legitimately super excited by all the cool stuff in the store and the giant shopping spree bc i was totally panicking#and like. walking around looking at this and that. cause i literally can't even functionally look at or talk to people#so yeah that's today's episode of me being a trainwreck xD#and okay. legitimately. yall get like. somebody can be ridiculously pretty/handsome/etc even if you're not attracted to them. aesthetically?#i think that's called?#it's definitely worse with people i'm attracted to but i also have trouble looking at or functioning around ppl in general who look good#and the thing that absolutely wrecks me with just about anyone is a genuine cute smile. oh my god. HELP#i'm like pardon me while i lose my shit over that and just like. go hide in the clothing rack bc that's too goddamn wholesome and cute. FUCK#i did actually get some new shirts and stuff from my panic mode and i also was legitimately shopping and not like. conspicously hiding#so. win for me#and if i had trouble looking at or talking to anyone i hope nobody thought i was rude or disinterested or whatever#like i'm not a douche or anything i'm just a fucking mess LMAO
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Lividity
Mob boss! Donatello x fem! reader
Summary: After a long night drinking you get approached by a shifty stranger who asks you if you want any work doing things below the law. It’s only after you agree that you realise exactly what you signed up for. You are captured by the turtles and tortured by Donatello himself for information.
Warnings: torture (graphic), NSFW, Stockholm syndrome, alcohol mention, mentions of murder, blood, gore
((A/N I’ve never written anything like this before so it’s a first for me. Just another warning, if you don’t like blood and gore, don’t read this))
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It was a Friday night in up town New York and you were sat drinking and bitching to the bar tender at your local place- The Crown and Thistle. It was a smoking bar so a heavy fog hung above the heads of those who were reveling and dancing, simply celebrating life in that dimly lit bar. You couldn’t, however. Your last 30 bucks had been spent on the 5 beers sitting before you and you had to admit that you were beginning to feel it, your head felt like it was doing somersaults without your body’s permission and you could tell you were swaying side to side.
“It’s not fucking easy to keep a job, you know what I mean, Jack?”
“It’s Josh” the bartender curtly replied  
“Whatever. I just mean, if I wanted some 9-to-5 bullshit that just further stuffs me into this capitalist system that only values me for my labour and doesn’t even want to give me a fair wage, I would go and work for my father but, that’s no life!”
Your conversation had picked up the attention of the man sitting next to you, he leaned in a little to catch what you were saying better.
“And I’m not a 9-to-5 kinda gal’, you feel me?” you slur to Josh who had long since stopped listening
The man at your side places a tequila shot in front of you, he had messy black hair and was wearing an expensive looking leather jacket with studs on the shoulders. He looked like he meant business.
“So, you’re looking for work I hear”
“What’s it to you?” you hiccup
He smiles at you making eye contact and gestured for you to take the shot sat before you.
“Let’s just say I know something that pays well and shouldn’t be too hard for a pretty girl like yourself. I get the feeling that a girl like you must be good at getting into places she’s not supposed to be”
With that, he explained his proposal; you were to seduce the Turtle boys who were a infamous mob family in upper New York, considered some of the most suave and dangerous men in the city, and retrieve whatever information you could back to him. He never gave you a name, only a time and location to meet as well as your first half of 3 grand. ‘Easy money’ you thought
Their house was disgustingly exquisite, they had a courtyard, rose thickets lining the driveway, as many cars as you could count, 3 swimming pools, hand crafted Venetian statues who’s eyes seemed to follow you around. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to go renegade and decide to break in instead of following the creepy guy at the bar’s advice, but you were no whore and you weren’t going to let him pimp you out to 4 turtles just for some information. You would find it your own way. Besides, you resented them. Crime only ever got you a night in a cell or flirting with a cop to get out of it, for them it was a lavish lifestyle. Of course, the turtles weren’t criminals in the eyes of the law, no, to the cops these boys just ran a luxurious hotel empire which supplied them with riches beyond anyone’s imagination. What was going on behind the scenes was another story, however. Guns, drugs, women... You name it and they sold it to every gang member in New York.
You got down on all fours and crawled along the side of the house when you saw a light on in one of the rooms and kept crawling until you found and open window.
“Idiots” you muttered to yourself
shimmying your hips and climbing through the window you land surprisingly delicately for someone as drunk as you are on the other side in what appears to be an office. There were filing cabinets and a desk with 3 computer screens and a monitor on it. You began your work, rifling through the drawers and files to find anything that looked like it could be useful. The room smelt of cigar smoke and Gucci men’s cologne which was a shockingly manly and desirable scent. With no luck finding a paper trail you decided to try your luck at the computer. You weren’t a stranger to hacking and so you figured this couldn’t be too difficult if they were dumb enough to leave a window open it’s hardly like they would encrypt their technology, right?
That’s when you heard it, footsteps coming down the hall quietly but fast. Someone obviously didn’t want you to catch on that they knew you were there. You hid behind the desk and covered your mouth with your hand to steady your breathing, maybe if you just stayed still they would walk in and go away. The door flung open and you could hear footsteps walk slowly over to the desk where you were hidden. ‘Shit’ you thought. A dry laugh echoed through the room before, in a flash, you were pulled off your feet by your hair and were hanging in mid air, face to face with Michelangelo. He was grinning at you, the sick bastard.
“Found ya’“ he mocked.
He dragged you out of the room by your hair, kicking and screaming the entire time he pulled you through the halls of their vast mansion until he reached the living room where his brothers sat around drinking and smoking.
“I found a new toy, Donnie!” he practically trilled.
The one in purple didn’t look too impressed, he just kind of stared through you with a blank expression that was hard to pinpoint what was going on behind those eyes.
“It’s a shame, she’s pretty” he finally said
“For now” Mikey corrected.
And that was how you ended up here, tied to a wooden x that was nailed up to the wall, half naked and bleeding at the mercy of the one and only Donatello mutant turtle.
You try and thrash your arms as he ties you down, there’s no way he’s getting you without a fight but it’s no use, the bonds are fixed around each of your limbs and you are well and truly stuck.
“There’s no use struggling” He states blankly “these are Tautline Hitch knots, the more you pull, the tighter they get.”
Great, so now you were getting a lesson from a boy scout as well, who the fuck knows about knots? You pull at them anyway but he’s right, they simply get tighter and the rope stings your delicate flesh turning it a burning red colour from its roughness. You make a sound of discomfort and Donatello simply looks right through you.
He turns his back, for a moment, to sort out some things on a table that’s in the corner of the room. You take this time to get a good look around. The floor and walls are all lined with plastic white tarps and certain chains dangle miscellaneously from the ceiling. ‘You’re fucked. This is a torture room and Dexter over there is going to fuck you up 5 ways from Sunday’ you think to yourself.  Some more clanging comes from the corner as he pulls a meat cleaver out of the bag and places it on the plastic wrapped table. You gulp. 
You watch the muscles on his back as he lifts heavy chains from another bag and places them on the floor next to him, he’s quite the specimen. Tall, around 6′7 and he’s lean but muscular as all hell. His shirt can barely contain his biceps and his thighs are just to die for. ‘You can’t can’t be thinking about this now’ you snap yourself out of it but still watch him because you can’t help it. 
Eventually he turns back around and is holding a pair of pliers in his left hand and a large hunting knife in his right.
“Now, I think I know what you’re going to pick, but I figured I would ask anyway. Do you want to tell me who you’re working for and what they sent you here to do? Or do you want to get hurt?” there’s a chilling coolness to his tone. Not a single sign of stress or anxiety that he was going to have to hurt you, if anything, he seemed almost bored.
You owed nothing to the foot clan but that wasn’t why you kept your mouth shut. This was obviously a trick, everyone knew what happened to traitors when the Turtle boys got their hands on them and you had a chance of making it out of here alive if you could work a little charm on him.
“Where would be the fun in that?” you reply
He tilts his head to one side as if in thought and then continues towards you, knife in hand. He drops the pliers at your feet and brandishes the knife, making a slit along the seems of your black skinny jeans and t shirt in order to remove them. Now, just in your bra and underwear, you felt deeply exposed but, in a very strange way that you were almost ashamed to admit to yourself, you liked the power play here.
“If you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask nicely. I would’ve done it for a handsome guy like you”
Donatello gives you  a wry smile before taking one step back and then lunging forwards fist first to punch you in the face. His fist connects with your jaw and you can hear your teeth scrape against each other in your mouth from the force of it. He has a solid right hook, you’ll give him that. It takes a moment for you to come back to reality but once you do, you look him dead in the eyes and spit blood into his face. This produces a genuine smile from him, one that screams “I love it when they put up a fight”.
He wipes the bloody spit from his cheek and takes a few more steps closer to you until you’re almost nose to nose and he places the blade of the knife of the knife at the base of your neck. He drags it down slowly and you can feel it scrape into your collar bone as he pulls it closer to your sternum, you mewl in pain. This wasn’t the worst thing you’d ever experienced but it certainly hurt. Thick droplets of blood begin to roll down your chest and soak into the material of your bra, turning it from a beige to a muddy red colour in patches. Donnie retreats to he table and picks up a container of something white. He picks it up with his hand and rubs it into the cut on your chest. ‘Salt’ you quickly realise and it stings like hell you make a “Gah” sound of pain and he doesn’t flinch, he simply returns the container to the table and picks up the pliers he left at your feet.
Donatello takes one moment to remove his blazer and roll up the sleeves of his shirt, he commands a lot of authority with this action and you watch intently.
“Why not just take it off completely, I wouldn’t any to get blood on that lovely shirt of yours” you tease.
He looks up at you with no expression but you think you can see a hint of amusement in his eyes. He sets upon you again and pins your nose shut forcing you to open your mouth to breathe, that’s when you feel him slide the pliers in and get them gripped around one of your lower back molars. You scream out in pain as he shakes the pliers side to side to leverage out your tooth, your mouth filling with a coppery taste you know all too well was blood. You try to bite down to stop him but the metal of the pliers won’t allow you to close your mouth at all and before you know it the tooth has some loose and he’s ripping it from between your lips.
He stands back and looks at the tooth with a sense of accomplishment.
“Tell me who sent you” he commands once again
“Look” you begin “As much as I’m enjoying our time together....” a thin bead of blood slips from your mouth and drips down past your chin “you know I can’t tell ya’ that. No matter how handsome you are or how much you hurt me”
“Hmmm” he replies simply.
Donatello walks forwards and places one hand under your chin to lift your head up to look at him
“You’ll tell me eventually, sweetheart” He places a chaste kiss on your lips and when he pulls away you can see you’ve left a small drop of blood on his mouth which he just licks away without another thought.
He continues his work for what feels like forever but the clock in the corner of the room tells you was only 3 hours. Pulling off your fingernails, cutting you, taking a few more teeth and all the while rubbing salt into the wounds. You were in agony and hung your head down with exhaustion. 
Lifting you by the hair, Donnie holds your head up to look at him once again and with his other hand caresses the tear stained skin of your cheek with so much tenderness you almost feel like he’s going soft on you but know that’s not possible. He looks into your eyes and the corner of his mouth lifts up into a half smile.
“We’ll continue this tomorrow” he says
“Bored of me already? Amateur” you stutter out through heavy lips. He had really fucked you up in your short time together.
He places a lingering kiss on your lips which you return before pulling away abruptly and leaving the room. ‘How the fuck am I gonna live through this?’
_____________
It’s early the next morning, at least, you assume it’s early as Donatello walks in yawning and stretching with that just showered smell to him. You had barely slept, being tied to a giant wooden x that was upright on a wall didn’t make for comfortable sleeping but you still smile brightly as he walks in the room.
“Morin’ handsome” you chirp. He may have broken your body but you were never going to let him defeat your spirit. That was your one form of rebellion against him, your positive attitude.
He approaches you and begins to stroke your hair, his head tilted to the side a little to get a better look at you. You know you look like shit, your face must be puffy and swollen from the teeth he took out, your eyes are bloodshot and you’re caked in blood and sweat; there’s no way you look cute right now. None the less, he smiles at you and gives you a gentle kiss on your temple before turning away. Still with his back to you he says
“You know, we can end all of this now if you just tell me who sent you”
You snort in response, “And miss out on this horror film experience? Never”
“As you wish, I do like it when my toys have a sense of humour. It’s usually the first thing to go when when I start cutting” 
You wince when he says this but he doesn’t see, luckily. You know you’re in for a world of pain but his company is... Strangely comforting. You don’t like that you enjoy having him around.
He turns back to you holding a knife and you huff. He approaches and places the knife in your mouth with the blade touching the skin of your cheek.
“Tell me who you work for and why they sent you” He demands again
You say nothing and he rips the blade from your mouth, splitting open your cheek in the process. It’s agony and you would clutch your face if your hands weren’t tied down. You didn’t understand how all this blood couldn’t make him queezy, You aren’t a pussy but the metallic smell alone was overwhelming. Blood pours down your face and chest and you begin to cry in pain. Donnie leaves the room for a moment and comes back with a bucket full of water and a plastic bag.
He places the bag over your head and you struggle to breathe a little, that is, until he begins to pour the water over the bag and you can’t breathe at all. It feels like your drowning and you begin to panic, shaking your head from side to side in order to get away from it but it’s not use. He takes off the bag and sticks your head down into the cold water where you splutter and gurgle. He lifts your head and out and looks at you.
“Tell me who sent you and what they wanted”
“You know, waterboarding has been illegal since 2009. You’re a very bad boy” you say breathlessly. 
He responds by shoving your head back into the water where it overflows and turns a red colour from the blood pouring from your face.His grip on you is too strong and you can’t get your head out for air. That’s when everything goes dark.
When you wake again, Donnie is stitching up your face with expert precision.
“Why” you manage to get out
“Can’t have you dying of blood loss before you tell us what we need to know” he states in a matter of fact way.
The stitches don’t hurt as much as the actual wound but it’s still not pleasant. He places a hand on your opposite cheek and looks deeply into your eyes. His eyes are beautiful, golden coloured with thin black rings around the pupil. You get lost in them for a moment before returning to reality. Using his thumb, he rubs it up and down your cheek like a lover comforting you would and you sigh at his affection.
He leans in and kisses your wet lips so gently that your heart almost melts. These mixed signals he’s sending you are messing with your head. You start to get that feeling that maybe he does like you, but this is something that he just has to do to protect him and his family. ‘That makes sense, right? I mean, what wouldn’t you do for family?’ He takes a step back
“We could end this all right now if you just talk”
“But then I wouldn’t get to see that gorgeous face anymore” you splutter
Reaching out, he runs his hand down your chest between your breasts and over the cuts on your stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties.
“This what you want?” he asks
“Yes” you reply
He turns around and walks out.
_____________
Donatello wakes you up by walking in and the door slams shut behind him, you can already tell he’s not in a good mood. He wastes no time picking up a pair of pliers and coming over to you with them.
Normally he would say something to you, maybe kiss you but today he simply goes straight to your hand and rips off one of your few remaining fingernails. You scream in pain as he drops the nail to the floor and goes back in to get another
“No no no please” you beg
But your cries fall on deaf ears, he takes the nail of your ring finger on your left hand and rips it off in one pull. You cry out again. 
He returns to the table in the corner, throwing the pliers down and placing his hands at either end on the surface of the desk. He bows his head.
“Rough morning?” you inquire still trying to calm yourself down from what just happened.
“Nothing that concerns you, just family shit”
He turns back around abruptly and walks towards you, his lips crashing into your and he kisses you passionately, his hand tangles in your hair as he does. When he pulls away you’re breathless.
“Let’s get started” He says.
He goes back into kiss you, taking a knife out of his pocket as he does and he slices along the bottom of your belly, you call out against his lips but he doesn’t retreat, he just keeps kissing you and cutting at will.
Finally, he pulls away again and looks you up and down, admiring his work.You can feel the blood dripping down your stomach and seeping into your panties and you stare at him with wide eyes full of fear.
Without missing a beat he throws a punch that hits you in the cheekbone, splitting the skin open and a trickle of blood runs down your face, you can already feel the swelling beginning to set in and he grabs your chin in his hands and looks at the cut
“That’s going to need stitches” He says as he places a kiss over it and begins to trail them down your face and onto your neck. 
“I think I love you” you mutter but he says nothing.
You continue like this for another hour, cutting and biting and stitching you up and kissing all the places that hurt. He was like a demon from hell but you wanted him to like you so badly. Occasionally he would say something interesting to you or tell you how pretty you looked bleeding and crying but never much else.
You were falling for him and you knew it, but you couldn’t help yourself. Today was especially rough because of whatever was going on behind the scenes and he was desperate to take it out on you.
“I think we’ll call it a day” he finally says
You sign with relief, there wasn’t much more you could take but somehow he never ran out of ways to hurt you. He slaps you in the face and then places a chaste kiss on your lips before walking out.
_____________
It’s been 4 more days to your count  of endless torture and gentle kisses. You’re going loopy in the head. You would do just about anything for this man aside from talk. You had had a few conversations. He always asked questions about your family and hobbies, even seemed interested when you brought up taking classes for veterinary school but, you never gave him what he wanted so the pain never ceased.
Today he walks in with his brothers. They all stand around you in their suits admiring his handy work.
“Is she dead?” Raphael asks
Your head is too heavy to look up at them but you are most certainly alive....You think. You have to be.
“This is your last chance” the one in the blue suit begins “last chance to tell us what you were doing here”
“Make this easy, pet” Donnie chimes in
“Or we start taking fingers instead of just the nails” Michelangelo cracks his knuckles
You can’t do it anymore. Your entire body burns with pain and you think the cut on your chest is beginning to get infected. They want you to talk so have it their way, at least when they kill you for it you’ll be free of this torture.
“I don’t know his name” you whisper.
They all come a little closer to hear you better and Donatello lifts up your chin to help you see them.
“I don’t know his name” you repeat “But he wanted me to meet him at 9:30pm at the bar The Crown And Thistle to tell him what I had found out about you. He’ll be there tonight. Dyed black hair, leather jacket with spikes. You can’t miss him” you barely manage to speak those final words you’re so weak.
“Take her down, boys” Leo commands
Raphael unties your legs while Donnie sets to work on your arms. Once free you collapse down onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“That’s it, pet. It’s all over now” 
You sink your head into the crook of his neck and pass out. __________
When you awake, you’re all bandaged up in a beautiful bedroom. There are fitted wardrobes along the wall facing you and a desk in the corner with a laptop on it. You can’t sit up but you know you must be in Donnie’s room. As if on cue, Donatello walks in, the sleeves of his light purple shirt are rolled up and he’s carrying a tray with a bowl of soup and cup of water on it.
He doesn’t speak to you, only sits down next to you and takes a spoonful of the soup and brings it towards your mouth. You haven’t eaten in a week so you gratefully take every bite he gives you before polishing it off with the water. It was nice, to be taken care of, especially by him. He leans in and kisses you so gently but you place your hand on the back of his head and hold him there to deepen it. You had been wanting to do this since day 2.
His hands trail down your body, missing all the gauze and bandages as to not hurt you and settle on your hips before he puts his tongue in your mouth and you accept it with a small moan.
“Just treat me like I’m made of glass” you beg
He responds by lying you back down and getting on top of you, his hand between your thighs slips under the material of your panties and begins to rub circles over your clit. This sensation is more than welcome after the days of nothing but pain from his hands.
He pulls away and removes your underwear with ease, tossing them across the room and onto his desk in the corner. You reach out for him again and he comes back down to continue your kiss, undoing his flies and stroking his dick as he does. He places himself at your entrance and looks into your eyes as if you ask for permission and you nod in response. Then he’s inside you thrusting slowly but deep into you at a gentle pace.
He brushes the hair out of your face, lightly tugging at one strand and rolling it between his fingers as to admire it before his attention turns to your chest. He leans down and takes on of your nipples in his mouth and begins to suck at it and nip gently with his teeth. You moan out and he doesn’t stop but goes from breast to breast to further the sensation. He’s so tender with you it’s a contrast from the last week but you don’t mind it. You have him now and are getting exactly what you want.
His pace quickens a little and you bite down on his shoulder to stifle your moans which he seems to enjoy as he kisses the top of your head. Your head falls back to the pillow and he wraps one hand around your throat while looking into your eyes and begins to squeeze a little- cutting off the blood supply to your brain.
“you’re doing so well” he praises in a low, raspy voice.
He pulls out and turns you over so your belly is down on the bed, it stings a little but you ignore it. You’re entire body aches in a different way now, now you’re aching for his touch rather than to be rid of it.
He gets between your legs and places himself back inside you, kissing the back of your shoulder as he does and you cry out as he fucks you harder.
You begin to claw at the pillows and sheets at the pleasure he’s causing you. You’ve never had anyone like him before and you never will again. He fills you so well that you want to cry and almost do, there’s such a mix of emotions going on inside you right now. Pleasure, pain, despair, hope.... But he keeps pumping into you and you’re beginning to get close.
You turn your head to face him and he kisses you with passion, expertly pushing his tongue in and out of your mouth and he tastes like whisky and cigarettes. 
“Tell me what you need” He says as he ends the kiss
“I need you to make me cum, please please just do it”
He picks up the pace at that and you can feel the ball of tightness in your stomach release as your orgasm crashes over you and you nearly see stars. His thrusts get sloppy and faster as he nears his own release. A few moments later he cums inside of you and rolls over. You get close to him and rest your head on his chest and place your arm over his torso.
Donnie carefully pushed the hair out of your face and rests his hand on your cheek.
“I love you, Donnie” you say
“I know” he replies.
Fin.
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prose-for-hire · 3 years
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I know what you did last Halloween...
Part Two // Part Three // Part Four
Pairing: Scooby gang x reader (platonic)
This is a platonic story with the reader as part of the Scooby gang. Set season 3. It’s going to be a small multi-parted serial killer/slasher fic for Halloween. Reader lives with Giles, but is not related. The deaths in this part are not described in much detail. 
Not sure how popular it’ll be with you guys, but I’ve enjoyed writing it so far !! 🖤🦇
Warning: It is a serial killer fic, main characters are going to die (I’m sorry, it’s Halloween). Violence. Blood mention. Threat.
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Sunnydale Scare? Scythe-wielding killer strikes again
Sunnydale Express, October 1999.
Sunnydale High school, not used to such horror inflicted on their student body since Principal Flutie’s unfortunate death in office [His memorial will be on the 31st as his family reveal it was his favorite time of year].
The scythe-wielding killer, who was seen wearing all-black with a festive mask, has claimed his most recent victims. Two members of the swim team found themselves in hot water after they were found with brutal and fatal injuries. The wounds matched the scythe that is commonly associated with the widely termed ‘Sunnydale slasher’.
It makes us wonder at the Sunnydale Express, why and how this idyllic town has managed to create such a monster?
You and the Scoobies were good friends. You helped save the world more than once whilst fighting algebra homework and Principal Snyder. You had moved from your hometown to Sunnydale at the same time as Buffy, meeting her on your first day and becoming best friends since that day. You had moved into Giles’ spare room after your parents had wanted to move on again. You had been sucked into the slaying and you couldn’t leave the others. Giles had been very accommodating and very much like a parental figure. Things had been going well, you were close to graduating and finally getting the hell out of there until one life-changing event that would forever be ingrained in your minds.
You and your friends were sat around the school canteen. The mood was pretty low and you were collectively checking over your shoulders every so often. You had been discussing the latest spate of murders. Surprisingly, it was widely covered by various news outlets and hadn’t been brushed under the rug as the usual demon relating killings were.
Buffy and Faith had been doing double patrolling, making sure there was always someone out after dark. Giles had been pleased but he wasn’t aware of the real reason. Although he had noted a difference in your mood in the past year. Despite the extra patrolling, no matter how many demon-snitches they beat up and threatened, there was no changing the answer they didn’t want to hear.
“So this… slasher? He’s-it’s-she’s-?” Xander spluttered through the pronouns in his disbelief.
“Yep. Human” Buffy shrugged, sighing and staring down at her food. Nobody had eaten anything. The lunch you all had set out in front of you was just for show. None of you could stomach much at the moment.
“Shouldn’t we have found them by now?” Willow wondered, her brow furrowing in frustration.
“It could be anyone. And I’m guessing they’re not exactly wearing their ‘I’m a killer come catch me’ sweater”
“Yeah, Giles says he’s gonna look into it, but unless it says ‘Scythe killer was here’ in one of those big old books…” You tail off as Buffy picks up your sentence.
“We’ve got zip. Nothing” Buffy nodded again. Conversation then turned. You had been in a deep discussion of something in low murmurs, that was until your best friends boyfriend walked in. A dead silence blanketed your table.
“The blank stares and silence make me feel at home” oz deadpanned and you all laughed slightly too loud at this. He squinted around the room, shrugged and then kissed Willow’s forehead before staring around at the odd vibe. He had noticed that none of you had been the same for at least a year, but anytime he tried to talk to Willow about it she just shook her head vigorously and locked herself in a different room until he dropped it.
“Well, I have some place to be that’s else. Or about three tables that way” He gestured with his head to where one of his bandmates were sat. Willow assured him she would come over and sit with them in a minute. After you finished a very important conversation.
“I can’t do this anymore, lying to him hurts my heart” Willow said sadly, shifting uncomfortably as if her heart was physically aching her, “I have to tell him”
“And how’re you gonna do that exactly, Will? Oh, hey there Oz remember last Halloween, well we-” Xander cut in harshly, trying to make Will be realistic.
“Stop it! We can’t talk about this here. Anyone could overhear, they already suspect I’m a slayer” Buffy said firmly.
“We have big mouths, sorry” You shrug, smiling tightly.
“This isn’t funny!” She snapped, the events of last year had her wound even more tightly than usual. She had more responsibility than she could handle on her shoulders as it was, let alone this secret weighing down on her like a
“I’m not laughing, Buff… I’m sorry” You whisper. You did feel guilty. You felt horrible. Some nights you barely slept, and when you did you had these horrible nightmares.
Oh, right. That guy that you killed. Well, it was a total accident and you were all very sorry at the time. I mean, you still are. But, thing is, you just didn’t happen to tell anyone or alert the correct authorities. Must have slipped your mind.
Let me paint the picture in case you managed to forget…
Last Halloween, you and your friends had been attending a Halloween party. Your collective night off from saving the world. Oz, who didn’t appear to be wearing a costume, had explained it was a shindig and you had all enjoyed the live music and spooky theme. Even Buffy had managed to relax.
Buffy had chosen little red riding hood and Willow was dressed as a knight in historically accurate chainmail. Cordelia was a cat, it was the back-up she always had in case her first choice fell through. She had shrugged, at least she looked good in it. You had decided on a werewolf, after apologising profusely to Oz who didn’t appear phased.
Xander was walking around in a karate outfit, something about being inspired by the copious violence he enjoyed on screen. Every so often he did a karate chop in mid-air and you and your friends would share a collective eye roll. Especially when he chopped some jock guy that he spent the rest of the evening hiding from. Whereas Faith was wearing as little as possible and appeared to be dressed as herself.
The band was playing decent music and the atmosphere was electric. You and Buffy had danced together while Willow and Xander laughed by the punch bowl. Out of nowhere, Faith joined the both of you and muscled you out of the way to dance with Buffy. You rolled your eyes, but knew better than to make a fuss so you went back to your other friends and joined them in conversation.
Buffy had borrowed her Mom’s car and had sneaked out while Joyce was sleeping. Joyce had been feeling a little under the weather and hadn’t noticed. When it was time to leave, she drove (badly) through the streets to drop everyone home. Oz was doing another set and would get a ride with the rest of his band.
You were squished in the back with Cordy, Xander and Willow. Faith had called shotgun. There were more people than there should be, with Cordy sitting precariously on Xander’s lap. It meant you and Willow were crushed together sharing an annoyed look as the pair continued to kiss.
Buffy looked out of the side window for a nicer view and managed to hit something in the road. You all screamed as she broke suddenly. You had hit something. Something big. You all got out to investigate and saw that it was a man. You went and shook his shoulder and he immediately sat up and grabbed at you. His grip tight and strong. You screamed as you looked at his face, there were fangs and his face looked bumpy. The others saw it too and Buffy pulled you away as Faith moved in and staked him.
The man struggled for a moment before going still. Blood had started to run from his heart and the stake that had been stabbed through it. You all just stared.
“W-why isn’t he going poof?” Willow whispered as you all just stared in horror. He had been human after all.
“It was a costume!” You shrieked in horror. Everyone’s blood turned cold. 
“We’ll have to bury him” Faith said quickly. Xander stayed silent, his eyes glazed in fear.
“We can’t!” Buffy said firmly.
“Look, it’s that or another stint in juvey and I’m not goin’ back there” Faith muttered and you all frowned, having not realised she had ever been.
“I think we should see if he has any ID, maybe we could-” You started, Willow nodding along.
“No, Faith’s right. We bury him” Xander said suddenly.
“Who made you decision-gal?” Buffy said, her usual fun language lost on the moment as she stared through Faith.
“I’m a slayer too, B. You’re not the boss” Faith tilted her head to the side and shrugged. You paused, thinking it over for a while.
“Buff, we can’t risk it. You and Faith are needed here – we can’t go to prison” You sigh, not sure if you fully believed what you were saying.
“Th-that’s actually true…” Willow said eventually, not looking anyone in the eye. It was hurting her conscience.
But that’s what you decided. For better or worse. You were all complicit now as you put him in the trunk and buried him in the graveyard in the early hours of the morning.
Nobody spoke as the sun started to rise and the plot you had chosen was no longer vacant. It had been hard to come to terms with ever since.
Missing – have you seen this man?
Sunnydale Express, 1998. November 2nd.
Mr Bates of Sunnydale California has been missing since Halloween night. Last seen leaving a party in the early hours. His wife and children are anticipating his return, although with the current rate of people vanishing often with no trace the Express, with their condolences, fears that Mr Bates may be one of a hundred Sunnydale citizens on Halloween night that will never return to their families.
This begs the question, where are all the missing going? Sunnydale has one of the largest cases of missing persons never being found in the state of California and statistics suggest it has the highest number compared to towns in neighboring states.
It had been a few days and something had shifted. Your friend’s mood was lower than ever and you were really worried about her. The guilt was eating away at her. It was so bad she finally had to talk to someone about it. Buffy was the most outwardly guilty one of you all. Covering for this went against everything she believed in. Fought for. Which is why she was probably being targeted the most.
You closed your locker and jumped, she had been standing behind it, waiting for you to notice her. She gave you an apologetic glance but still asked, “Hey, y/n, can we talk?”
“Sure, I didn’t wanna go to English anyway” You smile at her as you walk to the usual place under the stairwell you would hide when you needed to talk. She pressed a note into your hand which you unfolded and read:
‘I know what you did last Halloween…’
You gasped, looking around before looking back at her for some kind of explanation, “It was in my history textbook, so, it might have been there for at least a month” Buffy said “Did you get one?” she whispered. You shook your head, nobody had left anything for you. You would remember. Buffy’s note struck a sense of fear you hadn’t felt since that night. A bubbling guilt that was squeezing your insides and threatening to spill them out. You had felt numb since then, unable to cry or even think about the events.
“We need to tell someone. Maybe Giles? I can see how much this is killing you, Buff…”  You say, trying to comfort your friend the best way you knew how.
“I know, I try and I try but I can’t tell him. He’ll get all moral and Giles-y”
“Maybe we need that. What we did was stupid, but still an accident. I wish I had never agreed with Faith” You muttered as Buffy nodded along silently. She wished you hadn’t agreed with Faith too, you had been the type people came with for answers. Advice. So you agreeing with Faith was probably the deciding vote. She told you she would meet you later and appeared to be in deep thought as she walked away.
Willow and Cordy looked spooked, sitting down silently during the break between classes. Their notes had fallen out of their lockers and they were afraid they had been seen picking them up. Buffy revealed to the others hers had said the same thing just as Xander ran in, very visibly panicking and checking behind him with every step he took.
He just slammed the note in the middle of the table without comment. He had nothing he could say. No jokes could mask the horror that came with
“That settles it. We go to Giles” Buffy said firmly. 
“No-” Xander tried to assert, but he was outvoted this time.
“We have to. He’ll help us, I know he will” You confirmed, “Walk home with me tonight, we’ll tell him then” This was to give you some time. None of you could face going to the library for the rest of the day.
The bell rang and it felt as if it were tolling for a funeral march. The walk to Giles’ house was slow. You had swung by Faith’s motel on your way, taking a detour as you explained you would have to tell him. She surprisingly didn’t put much of an argument against.
The door creaked open and you shouted to announce your presence. But when you get there, you felt it instantly. You dropped your bags and walked into the living room. Every step felt heavy and echoed around the room. 
There he was. On the floor. Surrounded in his own blood.
Your knees buckled and you had to steady yourself against the sofa. The blood-stained sofa. Someone’s arms held you up. There were gasps and mutters but your ears were ringing, you felt very far away. He was cold, his body mutilated.
It took you longer than the others to see the new centrepiece of the room. 
‘I know what you did last Halloween’ was written in what could only have been Giles’ blood smeared across the wall of his living room. It was your warning. Your note.
A warning that turned your stomach. Knocked you all sick. He was one of you and he was gone. You tuned back into the conversation around you after having stared at the words. The words meant for you. Every time you blinked, those words were now stamped into your vision.
“It’s the same thing that was written on the notes”
“Oh, I got one of those but I threw it in the trash” Faith shrugged, but she wavered. This was hard to look at.
“We’ll have to clean it up” Xander said flatly. Gesturing at the writing.
“What?! We can’t-”
“Xander Harris, your brain is barely functional anyway - but this is totally the worst thing that’s come out of your mouth!” She shouted, her voice getting higher as she continued, “I am not cleaning the bloody writing off our dead librarians wall!” She warned. They had broken up since everything had happened. Everyone collectively winced as she said Giles was dead. It hurt. It sliced too close to the bone. At least when it had been a stranger, there was some degree of separation. But now it was even worse. 
“They’ll know or start to look into it - we gotta do it” 
You stayed silent this time, every time someone’s eyes looked at you you kept your expression blank. Until you were handed a cloth and some bleach and you grimaced but followed the others. Cordy joined you, nodding her understanding at your blank look. She took the cloth and the liquid from your shaking hands and started to help with the clean up.
Teen scream
Sunnydale Express, October 1999.
Reports of a large number of young people are now rejecting the upcoming holiday in an attempt to preserve their lives. Many say that this is a kneejerk reaction and that many will lose out of the best years of their lives to fear – which is what the killer will want.
Despite this, there has been a curfew agreed amongst the young people of the town and the Mayor’s office, reports suggest. Time will tell if this will be kept or if it another attempt by those cautious to get a re-election rather than improving the spate of missing persons that has only doubled since the year previous.
You were all waking in a group. You couldn’t face staying at Giles’ place so you were going to stay over at Buffy’s for the night. There was still an argument going on around you that you weren’t listening to. Faith had lit up a cigarette and kept telling everyone to calm down. That nobody could know or people would be hauling you all off to jail. That you had chosen the right thing.
“I’m sick of you all, I’m going out. There’s a party down the block. Anyone coming?” She looks around. This, you had heard. You shrug, resigning yourself to it. You made plans based on alibis now. With this cynical thought, you manage to convince everyone else to come too. You never know, it might relax them.
...Or not. 
You and the others all sat around in silence as the bass, and Faith, jumped around you. You barely spoke, you just stared into your cups. There had been some hugging when you first left the house but since then you all felt so alone. So disconnected despite being in this together. What you had chosen to do didn’t feel right and without your constant, your compass that had been Giles you didn’t know what to do.
 “Hey, man, it’s not Halloween yet!” Someone shouted. It caught all of your attention. A collective feeling of dread. That had been before all of the screaming had started.
The figure loomed over you. Everything about him screamed menacing. He frightened you more than any demon. He was stood in a Grim reaper costume, complete with blood stained scythe. He turned, spotting you finally. He had been slicing kids down as he walked. He wasn’t aiming, just wildly enjoying the chaos he caused.
He stopped in the centre of the room, facing the group of you that had just risen to your feet. He pointed. He stood still and pointed at you all. The Scooby gang.
In that moment, you knew. You knew he was the one that was taunting you. And so did every one else.
“Well, one of us has a brief scythe of life” Buffy stated, “…and it isn’t me” She ran at him, her fists raised as Faith came up behind her. In the chaos it was hard to see what was happening, all you could feel was this descending feeling of foreboding. You knew it had happened before you saw it.
To be continued…
42 notes · View notes
monsterlovinghours · 4 years
Note
So... I found an interesting tweet and was wondering if you'd write something sexy for it.... "In Vietnam it's a popular belief that if you are single in your 20s there is a ghost following you and hindering your romantic life because it wants to be with you and I just want to tell my personal ghost to quit being a coward and fuck me already." Also I claim the ✨ Emoji, if that's okay?
That’s fine with me, Starburst! holy fucking moly this took me forever to finish and this turned out way longer than i had originally planned but fuck this is such a neat idea and it just kinda snowballed but it’s finally done hurrah!!!!
fem!reader, just bear with me i am soft and full of feelings and i need to self insert
Bitter tears stung her eyes as she unlocked the front door to her empty apartment. Her empty, cold, lonely apartment. Another unsuccessful first date, ruined before any real potential could be reached. Everything seemed to go wrong; first her car wouldn't start, then her Uber was late, the table next to theirs at the restaurant was noisy and obnoxious, and the movie they had wanted to see had been sold out. Her date hadn't offered any suggestions to further the date, just sighed and took her home. He didn't even try to touch her, barely looked at her, and that stung more than she cared to admit, to feel invisible and undesirable. If he was the first, second, or even the fifth, it might not have hurt quite so badly. But the numerous dates she had gone on since entering her twenties had all gone the same way, ending too soon without a single spark of chemistry. Was there something wrong with her? Was she that repulsive?
Sighing, she swallowed her tears for the moment and walked dejectedly to her bedroom, dropping her purse and keys as she went. Down came her hair from the careful twist she had pinned it into, Mediterranean blue waves spilling down her back, her dress shed and her shoes kicked off. Makeup removed and dressed in panties and an oversized shirt, she slipped into bed, curling up with a pillow hugged to her chest. Finally, she let the tears come, sobbing out her hurt, her frustration, her loneliness. She had thought that perhaps this would be the one that went somewhere, that she'd finally break the cycle and maybe, just once, she'd have the chance to feel wanted, to feel seen. To love and be loved, like everyone else. But no; either she was entirely unloveable, or some force out there was deliberately fucking things up for her. In desperation, she angrily muttered through her tears, "Whatever cosmic entity has decided that I'm going to be lonely and hurting forever, could you either fuck off or come fuck me yourself?"
Thud
Something fell from her desk, something relatively heavy, and she sat up with a start and a gasp, her heart hammering. Her journal had fallen to the floor, lying open on a date that was still several months in the future, and the pen that she kept tucked in the pages…was standing upright on the page, scribbling something onto the paper. Her heart rose up into her mouth, fluttering sickeningly. That...was...not normal. Slowly, she slid out of bed, approaching the journal as if it were a live thing, dangerous and fanged and unpredictable. The pen finished whatever it was writing and fell over, and she knelt to read the message it left behind.
i thought you'd never ask babe
She sat back, her eyes darting around the space as if she could catch a glimpse of the mysterious specter that seemed to be listening, watching. Her voice soft, hesitant and tremulous, she asked, "Is someone there?"
Instantly, the pen flew upright again, scratching something out just below its previous message.
been here the whole time sorry about your date. 
"Oh my fucking god," she breathed, her pulse pounding in her ears. "Who...who are you? How long have you been here? Are you the one fucking with my love life?"
whoa one question at a time babes
To calm herself, she took a deep breath. "How long have you been following me?"
5 years 
"Jesus." She let out a breath, unsurprised to feel her hands shake as she ran them back through her hair. "Why?"
its complicated id rather tell you face 2 face
Her brow furrowed, getting to her feet to switch on her light. "Okay. So come out and talk to me. Why are you hiding?” The pen scratched across the paper insistently.
invisible not hiding
“So...make yourself visible?” She crouched by the journal, noticing that the pen was digging into the paper so hard it was nearly tearing it. 
Can’t until you say my name
“So what’s your name?”
Can’t tell you
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she groaned, throwing up her hands in exasperation. The pen suddenly flew across the room, where a poster that had been hanging on her wall swung loose, then fluttered to the ground. Her poster of the constellations. The pen was circling something, a name...the name of a star. 
“Betelgeuse?”
Almost excitedly, the pen wrote next to the star, the words jagged and sloppy.
Two more times!!!
She paused, wondering if this was truly a good idea. “Beetlejuice.”
One more one more one more please baby gimme one more
One beat, then two, then she threw caution to the wind and spoke the word one final time. “Beetlejuice.”
Her light flickered, as if to announce the sudden appearance of a very real, very solid looking figure standing with their feet planted on her poster, wearing a suit of dirty black and white stripes and a grin that could light up a small town. “You said it! You finally said it! I’ve been trying to get you to talk to me for five fucking years and you finally said my name!” Before she could speak or even breathe, he had all but lunged for her, wrapping her up in his arms, the smell of damp earth filling her lungs even as he tried to squeeze the breath out of them. Ineffectually, she squirmed in his over-enthusiastic embrace, trying to wriggle away, to take a minute to process what the fuck was happening and who the fuck was standing in her bedroom right now. 
“Wait wait, hold on, so...your name is Beetlej-”
“Shhhhh!” He clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking his head vehemently. “Don’t say it. I’m sorry babes, but I’ve waited too long for this to go tits-up now.” He lowered his hand slowly, that grin resurfacing. “Okay, so I know you’ve got a lot of questions and you must be pretty excited to meet your own personal ghost but before we get to the boring stuff I gotta do one thing first.” Without giving her a chance to ask, his hands slid to her waist, pulling her to him even as he dipped her back and kissed her, his lips like ice, though surprisingly soft. What surprised her most was not the kiss itself, but rather her lack of aversion to it; she tried to tell herself it was because she hadn’t been kissed in so long that she was desperate for any kind of affection, even the strange, otherworldly, and rather abrupt kind. Oddly enough, she even found herself kissing him back, her fists gripping the lapels of his coat as he set her upright again. That Cheshire grin still hitched the corners of his mouth high, and his gaze raked over her like a physical caress, cool, white hands still curved in her waist. 
"Alright. Fire away, babes, ask me anything."
"Um…" Her head spun, thoughts racing, heart still pounding a chaotic timpani in her ears. "Did...did you say 'my own personal ghost'?"
"I sure did. You're one of the lucky gals that gets a ghost attached to ya when you reach adulthood. And you've got the luck of the draw, sweet stuff, because you managed to snag the Ghost with the Most!" His thumbs hooked into his suspenders, though oddly enough, two hands still stayed clasping her waist.
"And you...you've been fucking with my dates...screwing around with my love life for five years?"
Her voice raised a bit in pitch, and he had the presence of mind to look sheepish. "Sorry about that, but none of those schmucks were good enough for you. I had to scare 'em off, you're mine."
"Excuse me??" She broke his grasp, stepping away from him as her brows knitted together in hurt and anger. "I've spent five years convinced there was something wrong with me, that I was repulsive or unattractive or unlovable, because no one ever made it past the first date, and you waited this long to tell me that it was you the whole time? Do you have any idea how worthless I felt after each failed date? How broken a-and defective I felt? How-”
“Hey hey, take it easy for a second, dollface!” He grasped at her wrists; until he grabbed them, she hadn’t realized how wildly she was gesturing. “Look, I tried. I’ve been trying since the moment I saw you to get you to talk to me. It ain’t exactly easy for the dead to communicate with the living. But you knew I was there, didn’t you? Hasn’t every house you’ve lived in felt just a little bit haunted?” She paused, thinking back to all the doors she had closed but hadn’t opened, the objects on the floor that had been sitting secure on a shelf when she’d left, the quiet moments when she couldn’t sleep when she swore she could feel eyes on her. Encouraged by her pause, he continued. “You breathers are stubborn, you just don’t wanna see what’s right under your noses. Until tonight, I barely had enough influence on the living world to push a piece of paper off the desk. But you...you called for me. You finally gave in and called for me.” He grinned again, and though the fangs should have made him seem frightening and demonic, he just seemed...relieved. “I was finally able to tell you my name, and let me tell ya, there hasn’t been a single sound in my very, very long existence sweeter than you calling my name.”
She took a deep breath in, processing everything he had told her, everything that had happened in...god, had it only been three minutes? “What did you mean when you said that...I was yours? What does that mean?”
He shrugged, pulling her closer, his hand pressing against the small of her back. “Means you’re mine, babe. It means that you’re my girl.” Something dulled the gleam in his eyes, and to her surprise, the green in his hair began to fade to a deep, shamed violet. “I was there for every night you fell asleep cryin’ over some guy who would have only hurt you in the end. It gutted me that I couldn’t do anything to help. You’re my baby, and I don’t like to see you hurt, and I really don’t like being the one to hurt you. But it had to be done. You didn't belong with any of them." He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but shook his head, his eyes squeezing shut as his hair faded back to green, as if he were forcing the color to appear. "We're wasting too much time talking when I should be kissing you."
"W-We just met!" The outrage on her voice felt like a show, a dutiful proper response to finding a green-haired, handsy ghost in her bedroom. But she hadn't once tried to wriggle out of his arms, unconsciously leaning closer when his hand slid up her spine.
Beetlejuice shook his head, stepping into her, strands of pink peeking through the green of his hair as he felt her body against his, solid and oh, so warm. "We've known each other for years, honey. You may not have had a face or a name, but deep down you've always known I was there. If I was just some stranger, you'd have run for the hills by now." She wanted to argue, but as much as she didn't want to admit it, he was right. His presence felt familiar, like a memory from her past she had all but forgotten about, but the emotions attached still lingered. It was why she hadn’t struggled when he reached for her, hadn’t tried to shake off his grasp, had kissed him back. His grin widened when she didn’t argue or protest, and he pulled her close, her body flush to his; he all but purred at the way her lashes fluttered, her hands naturally settling on his shoulders, as if they had done this a hundred times.
“Let me kiss you,” he rasped, holding her chin in his hand. “I’ve been waiting for you for so long, babe, please...let me give you a real kiss.” There wasn’t much more than a fraction of a second of hesitation before she nodded, gaze flicking to his mouth just before the distance closed and her brought her lips to his. With that first urgent kiss out of the way, this one was softer, more patient, sweet, and when she felt his tongue trace the seam of her lips, she parted them without question. Oh, it was wonderful, more so than she had ever dreamed, to be kissed like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, to have hands pressed so close to her skin, as if she would slip from his fingers and shatter if he let go. She wasn’t quite sure how they had ended up on her bed, but the softness of the duvet embraced her as he laid her back, kneeling over her. She moaned as the tip of his tongue flicked against hers, the sound echoed as he tasted the first flickers of her pleasure, soft and tremulous, like the first stretch of the wings of a newly emerged butterfly. 
“I wanna touch you,” he growled, his kisses trailing down her neck. “Fuck, you taste so good already, baby.” One of his hands rested at her collarbone, waiting for the invitation to slip lower. “Please, honey, let me pull your shirt up? Wanna feel just how warm you are under there…”
“Wait,” she said breathlessly, leaning up on one elbow. He seemed confused, perhaps just a touch annoyed, but he stopped. “All those years you spent following me around...did you ever…” She gestured to herself. He smirked.
“Of course not. Not that I didn’t want to, sweetness, but when I saw you for the first time, I wanted you to be able to see me back, y’know?”
“And when I...had...alone time?” She arched a brow, and his grin widened. 
“Didn’t see a thing. Scout’s honor. Though, I definitely heard quite a lot. You know, you’re not nearly as quiet as you think you are.” Her cheeks flushed red, and she turned her head to the side in an attempt to mute the color rising in her cheeks. “Nope, huh-uh. Keep those eyes on me, babe.” His fingers gripped her chin again, bringing her gaze back to his. “I want you to keep looking at me, no matter what.” She nodded, and he grinned, kissing the tip of her nose. “Good girl. Now, lemme get a look at you.” Perhaps not quite as slowly as he should have, he grasped the hem of her shirt and lifted it, groaning as her breasts came into view, soft and tipped with dusky pink. “Oh fuck,” he nearly whimpered, and she moaned as his hips pressed into hers, seeking warmth and friction. “Such a gorgeous little thing. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen you come in from the cold, saw these little beauties all stiff and hard through your shirt, and wanted to tease them with my tongue until I had you moaning and squirming.”
She shivered, letting loose a soft sound of want as he settled his weight more firmly over her, purring like a cat as he leaned down to kiss her nipples, first one, then the other. A moan left her as she felt his tongue softly lick at one stiff peak, her hand tangling in his hair, which to her surprise pulled an answering moan from him. Seems she had found a weak spot.
Oh, she had never dreamed that this would feel so nice, his mouth at her breasts, sucking, kissing, licking, teasing. His hands, still cool but warmer than before, squeezed the full flesh, kneading restlessly, and she arched her back, pulling her shirt off all the way and moaning. His scruff tickled her skin, made her shiver and break out in goosebumps, and she let her fingers drift through his hair, causing him to spill little growls and purrs against her skin.
"Ohhhh, baby," he groaned, lifting his head, his hair a deep rose pink, his pupils wide, drinking in the sight of her. "Baby girl, I've dreamt of this moment for five years, I wanted to make it so good for you. But I don't think I can wait." His hand slipped down her body, palm flat to her skin to touch as much of her as he could at once, then slid between her legs, inside her panties to cup her sex, the heel of his hand pressing into her clit. She keened, her toes curling, and he groaned in response. "Please, babe," he murmured, pushing the tip of his middle finger into her. "Please?"
"Yes," she said, with no hesitation, nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, god, please."
There it was again, that mega-watt grin, his mouth split wide with joy. "Thank you, doll, fuck...oh, I've been wanting this for far too long." He sat up, and in the time it took for him to be upright again, his clothing-suit, tie, and all-had vanished, leaving him naked and visibly throbbing. His hands shook as he pulled down her panties, his cock twitching as he saw her bare for the first time. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, my god…” Nearly the same temperature as her now, he touched her, thumb rubbing her clit as he pressed two fingers inside. “Has any guy ever done this to you before," he asked lowly, his free hand sliding up her thigh as he watched his fingers slide in and out of her. 
"No." Her answer came immediately with a shake of her head, hips rolling against his hand. "No one."
"I knew it." He grinned, withdrawing his fingers and popping them in his mouth with a deep groan. "Knew you'd wanna save this for me." Licking his lips to savor her, he crawled over her, grasping himself to guide his cock to her entrance. The tip pressed inside, and he groaned, shivering as he saw her teeth come down on her lower lip. "Feel okay?"
"Feels great," she murmured, reaching up to hesitantly cup his cheek in her hand. "You can move, honey, you won't hurt me." Her heart gave a funny little stutter as he nuzzled into her palm, as if craving her touch. He began to rock his hips, so shallow and gentle, widening her for him, though she could see the strain it put on him to go slow, the tension in his shoulders and the clench of his jaw. Any last doubts she had about him melted away as she fully understood the care he was treating her with. To wait so long for somebody, to be with them every second and watch them laugh and cry and hurt without you, to ache with the need to touch them and be near them, and for the object of your affections to not be able to see you, let alone touch you...she could only imagine how frantic for her he must feel, but he was taking the time to consider her comfort, setting a slow pace despite the fact that it must be torture for him. “Beej?” She spoke the nickname softly, and his gaze focused on her with laser intensity, teeth exposed in a grin. “You don’t have to take it so slow, I won’t break.” Her thumbs stroked over his cheeks, slipping down to cup the sides of his neck and trace his jaw. “I want you to...to feel me. I made you wait so long, honey, but you can make up for lost time now. Don’t hold back.”
A thousand expressions crossed his face at once, his hand sliding around the back of her neck to lift her head, pressing his forehead to hers. “Baby,” he rasped, sounding on the brink of some tremulous emotion, “are you sure? I want this to be good for you-”
“This is as much for you as it is for me. If...if we’re really meant for each other, then isn’t it my job to take care of you, too?”
Beetlejuice let out a soft noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob, his lips pressing desperately to hers. “How did I get so fucking lucky to land a babe like you?” And with a snap of his hips, he was fully hilted, his eyes rolling back to the whites as she jolted in his arms, her wet warmth squeezing him, gripping him so tight. A string of curses left his lips, some in a strange language she suspected wasn’t from anywhere aboveground, and she lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, anchoring herself to him. “Fuck, that’s it, babycakes,” he crooned, his hips rolling, groaning with each delicious slide within her velvet. “Ohhh shit, you take me so well...yeah, fuck, you feel so damn good, sweet stuff. You doin’ okay?”
Oh God, was she ever. It was a little uncomfortable at first; while he was average in length, he more than made up for it in width, and there had been a strange burning as she stretched to accommodate him. But that sensation of fullness, of movement, of joining...was indescribable. It felt like breathing for the first time. Like the final piece of a puzzle slotting into place. Like the ceasing of a lifelong pain she had grown too used to to notice until it was no longer there. “Yeah,” she answered, tears gathering in her eyes. “I’m great. P-Please, you can go faster.”
He looked stricken at the glisten of her eyes and the tremble in her voice. “You sure? We can stop if it hurts, babes, I don’t-”
“No.” Her hands shot up to thread through his hair, yanking on it to pull him down into a kiss, the first time she had kissed him. “God, no. It doesn’t hurt, honey, it feels...oh, you feel so fucking good…” To emphasize her point, she squeezed her walls around him, bucking her hips up, and he groaned, shuddering against her. “More, please, I need more of you.”
His mouth left hers, but his lips wouldn’t or couldn’t seem to leave her skin, kissing across her cheek, the delicate shell of her ear, down her throat. “Fuck, say it again,” he murmured into the hollow of her throat as his pace increased, pushing harder, faster, the sense of something on the verge of collapse filling the room around them.
She knew what he meant, and she smiled, combing her fingers through his hair, neck arching as her hair spread across the pillow. “I need you,” she repeated, her body meeting his, rising up as he pushed down, rolling and cresting and crashing like waves against the shores of her bedsheets. “I need you, please.”
Whatever splintering dam had been holding him back finally broke, and he latched his teeth into her throat with a cry, slamming into her with unrestrained passion, marking her at her pulse, her collarbones, even just under her jaw. She was his, his, and no one else could ever have her now. She had called him, accepted him, opened herself to him in so many ways, in ways he never dreamed a beauty like her ever would. Praise dripped from his lips like rain, showering her in attention and bite marks. Her back curved, her body alight with sensation, each nerve electrified as she held him tighter and tighter, curling herself around him and letting herself get lost in him. This was everything she had wanted, everything she had been missing, in the world’s most unconventional lover. Affection, pleasure, desire, playfulness, care and attention. Her heart melted, her entire self surrendering to him; she felt it now, felt the rightness of his claim. She was his, body and soul. She always had been. 
His moans changed in pitch, his thrusts frantic, mindlessly chasing his pleasure as he took her hand, pressing it into the bed beside her head as his fingers wove between hers. “Babe, fuck, I’m gonna come...can I come inside you, baby? Huh? Can I fill you up, sweetness, fill you up and make you come with me? Please, baby girl, I’m so close…” He growled, nipping at her earlobe. “Let me make you mine.”
She nodded, almost too breathless to reply. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please, I’m already yours.”
He groaned, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it back before releasing it. “Say it again. Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m y-oohh fuck!” She cried out, cursing as his free hand began rubbing her clit, hard and fast, tripling her pleasure all at once. “I’m yours!”
“Again, babes…”
“Yours, Beej, I’m yours!”
“Louder, baby, scream for me!”
“Yours!”
With a shout, he broke, his entire body shivering as he came, cool and so deep within her she could practically taste it. The fingers at her clit didn’t let up, and moments later she was following him, her pleasure crackling through her, spreading like lightning across a stormy sky through her body. Her vision faded, dimmed, but the light of his smile and the sound of his voice remained clear as day, grounding her as the muscles in her body unfurled one by one, her body collapsing against the bed as the pleasure faded slowly. There was the sensation of something dripping down her thighs, something wet and just slightly cooler than her own skin, and a delicious little shiver went through her at the sensation, heightening the little aftershock tremors. 
“Fuck,” he breathed, lowering himself to rest his head on the pillow of her breasts, “that was worth the wait.” His hands cupped them, pressed them together as he buried his face between them. For a few moments, everything was silent and still, his lips skimming her skin in little butterfly kisses as she stroked her fingers through his hair, catching her breath. Then, she heard something, heard his voice, heard a muffled voice murmur something that sounded suspiciously like, “I love you.”
“What was that?”
Lifting his face ever so slightly, but not looking up at her, he said loudly, “I said you have nice tits!” The words tumbled out of him a little too quickly, and the sudden flush of pink in his hair was a sign that he hadn’t meant for her to hear him, or perhaps he hadn’t meant to speak out loud at all. Either way, she didn’t press the matter, smiling secretly to herself. His kisses, however, became firmer, his tongue even darting out to flick against her skin, and she moaned, wriggling against him as his lips began to migrate south. 
“Where’re you headed, honey?”
“God, I like hearing you call me that.” He grinned up at her, licking over her navel. “What, you didn’t think I was done with you, didja? No way, dollface, I’ve got five years of lovin’ to make up for.” 
She could have made the argument that they had tons of time to make up for those five years, but as his fingers spread her open to allow his tongue to lap at her clit, the sentence was erased from her mind, her hips jolting up into his mouth. It had been worth it, she decided as his clever, hungry mouth sent her spiraling into one frenzied orgasm after another. All the heartache and tears and lonely nights had been worth it, since it had all lead up to him. For the first time, she felt wanted. Felt loved. Felt truly, finally seen.
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missmonsters2 · 5 years
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Drive Her Crazy || Part VI
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PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x OFC/Reader
Summary: AU. Meet Wanda, the new ‘It’ girl. She’s built her social standing as a social influencer through Instagram and vlogging on Youtube. Queen Bee in her social circle, she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger. She’s perfect, you think. Girls like that require a little finesse, and you’re ready to play the game.
Warnings: Non-healthy relationship, psychological games, eventual smut. 18+ only.
Note: Some real shit be happening. This is an extremely long chapter on the count that I have poor planning skills and will be trying to conclude this 10 parts total haha 
PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V 
PART VI of X
Count: 7711
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“No, that’s wonderful. Of course. Yes. If you could send it over to me. Thank you again.” 
You sigh as you hang up your phone, a huge smile on your face. You had finally gotten your present for Wanda. She was going to be so ecstatic. A couple of weeks had passed by so quickly. 
That night after Wasteland, you and Wanda had stayed out all night, even falling asleep a little at the pier. When you had dropped Wanda at home, the two of you could see the lights on, indicating that Vision was awake, most likely waiting for her. 
You gave her a soft smile and told her she could text or call you later. You met up with her a couple days after to help plan her party. She was renting out a venue as it was going to be a big gathering. All of her friends and work friends were going to be there. She needed help choosing catering and a live band. She had shown up at the meeting spot with a huff which caused you to raise your brow at her.
She confided to you that Vision and her have been fighting a lot more lately. It just seemed that Vision was on edge but wouldn’t say why that was, and she couldn’t figure it out.
You, of course, offered her comfort, which she soaked up greedily. You could only suspect why Vision was on edge. Wanda was spending a lot of time with you, drawing away from him. You didn’t interact with him enough for him to consider you just her ‘gal pal.’ 
You told Wanda to not worry about the live band, you would take care of that. As for the catering, you scheduled tastings that day to see which one would be best. The experience had you thinking that it felt like you were doing wedding things together. Wanda seemed to enjoy herself as well, often feeding you a spoonful of the dishes to see your opinion. 
When you had finished the catering, she told you everything else was handled, so you went to get desert together. Wanda had seemed to finally resign to the fact that you were always going to pay when you were together. 
In the middle of eating and chatting, your phone began to go off. When you looked at your phone, you saw that it was Natasha that was calling you. She had been pretty busy with some kind of work emergency with Tony. You gave Wanda an apologetic smile as you picked the call. Wanda pursed her lips, stirring her ice cream in her cup a little as she watched you talk on the phone. 
Natasha says the crisis had been averted and invited you to have dinner with her. You agreed and hung up the phone. When you told Wanda it was time to go as you needed to get ready for your date with Natasha, she seemed like she was going to say something but stopped herself. 
In the car, she had asked you outright if you were now dating Natasha. You told her vaguely it was just a date, neither indicating if you wanted to date the redhead or not.
Since then, Wanda had been a little silent, which had you smirking.
As it was nearing the day of the party, you had lunch with Natasha again at her request. You had brought some takeout and was currently carrying it to her office. 
When you arrived at Stark Towers, a security guard named Happy checked you down before allowing you through.
“Miss Romanoff is on the 30th floor, room 204.”
You thanked him and took your guest pass to the elevator. There was an automated voice in the elevator asking which floor you would like.
You knew Tony Stark was an inventor, but even you were impressed with what he has built and achieved.
Knocking on the door, you heard Natasha’s soft voice telling you to enter. She smiled when she saw you.
“Hey, stranger,” she greeted you with her husky voice and a soft jilt her lips. You looked around her office and whistled as you put down the food. Not shabby at all.
“Stranger?” You said with an amused tone. “We saw each other two days ago.”
“Maybe that’s too long,” Natasha quipped back, getting up to stand right in front of you. You quirk your lips at her, tilting your head slightly downwards to capture her lips in a soft kiss as you put her hand on the juncture of her jaw and neck. Natasha leaned into it, putting her arms around your waist. 
When you both pulled back, the redhead sighed with a soft smile. “Tell me again why we aren’t officially dating?”
You chuckle at her, pulling away to unpack the food. “Pretty sure it was you that said you had a lot going on currently and wanted to take things slow.”
You had started to officially see Natasha for about two weeks now. It was at a late-night dinner over at her place that she kissed you. The kisses had gotten so heated, but before anything else could happen, the redhead stopped. You then learned that she and Bruce had dated seriously and they had just recently broken up.
She was still trying to get over it and wanted to take things slow and slow meant that she wanted to keep whatever you had going on a secret. That had changed your plans a little in the sense that it was hardly benefiting you if Wanda didn’t know.
Still, it wasn’t completely useless. Timing is everything, you reminded yourself. 
“Huh,” Natasha hummed. “Now why would I go and say that?”
You just chuckled at her joke, handing a bowl of food over to her and settled into a seat.
“So,” Natasha said, scooping some food into her mouth sitting on the armrest of the chair you were in. “Wanda’s party is next Saturday. What did you get her?”
“It’s going to be a surprise,” you tell Natasha. Since Wanda had confided in you that she had yet to share with anyone else about her aspiration on becoming an actress, you were going to be giving her present in private most likely.
“A surprise? Even from me?” Natasha asked with a quirk of her brow.
You nodded your head, chewing your food. When you looked at her expression, you put your food down, sighing as you pulled her into your lap.
“Hey, don’t make that face,” you tell Natasha, pinching her hip lightly and she wriggles in your hold.
“I would tell you, but it’s in relation to something Wanda told me in confidence. As a friend, I really value that.” When you say that, Natasha could only sigh lightly with a smile, wrapping her arms around your neck and kisses you softly.
“You really are a good friend to her,” Natasha says, respect in her tone and you smile back. With that, the two of you resume eating, making small chat.
“Vision has been bragging about his gift,” Natasha says after you both discuss what the other group members are getting her. 
“Oh, really? What’s he getting her?” You say with a bit of an amused huff. 
“Oh, he’s not getting her anything. He has apparently written her a song and is arranging to play it at her party in the evening. He’s literally telling everyone about it. Wanda is such a huge sucker for romantic gestures like that, so she’s basking in the accolades everyone is giving her. I think they might finalize their wedding date soon.” Natasha says, finishing up her food and putting it on the table.
There’s a momentary pause in you, but you continue on as normal to avoid Natasha being suspicious. 
“Oh, that’s really romantic,” you say. The topic changes and you continue the afternoon with Natasha as normal, kissing her goodbye and promising to call later when she’s off work. 
The moment you leave, your expression falls. Your jaw in a tight line as you get into your car.
You can’t let Vision play for Wanda at her party, it would really put a wrench in your plan if Wanda is swept off her feet by him.
No.
Not when you were so close. 
It would be a small price to pay, but nothing and no one would stop you from having Wanda.
It was time to call in a favor that was owed to you.
Throwing your Bluetooth headset, you dialed a number and drove off.
“Hey, it’s me. I heard you’re in the city. Come have dinner with me tonight, my treat.”
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You arrive at the restaurant in the evening. It was at a high-end restaurant that you had arranged for the meeting. The greeter at the front took your name, immediately leading you to one of the VIP rooms in the back. As he opened the door, you found you weren’t the first to arrive. 
“Hey,” you greet, with a smile. “It’s been a while, Charles. How’s the missus?”
He was a tall man, clean cut in every way possible, and a charming smile. A waiter comes and Charles orders for the both of you as you take a seat across from him.
“It’s been a hot minute,” Charles agrees. “Cheryl is doing great. How have you been? I can’t imagine that you’re here just to catch up.”
You give him a cunning grin. “Right down to business as always, Charles. You need to relax. I can’t even imagine how you’re an A&R manager like that.”
The man chuckles, adjusting his tie a little looser. “Oh trust me, I can relax plenty. But, you never come to see me unless you want something. You usually just email me what projects you’re working on and prefer that I just email you regarding any interviews or sponsorships.”
The waiter returns with a bottle of wine, pouring it for the two of you before leaving it in the ice bucket. You give the waiter a smile of thanks, taking the glass and taking a gentle sip.
“Well, I suppose you’re not wrong. I want you to sign someone on.”
Charles raises his eyebrow at you, clearly intrigued as he takes a sip from his own glass. You pull out your phone and already have Vision’s SoundCloud up. You press play, watching as Charles expression changes as he listens.
“I hope you’re kidding,” Charles asks, dead expression in his eyes.
“Not in the slightest,” You tell Charles. “Lyrics aside, he has a good physique, decent musical ability, and sings well. Ghostwriters are popular these days anyway.”
Charles eyes you with the tilt of his head and arms crossed. “Is there a particular reason you want to sign this person on?”
You nod, leaning back and crossing your legs. Your hand grabs a strand of your hair and twirls it. “He’s in the way of what I want.”
Charles sighs, rubbing his eyes blearily. “I don’t know about this, he could be a total waste.”
“Total waste or not, you owe me. You got where you are today because I chose you out of everyone else to sign me on to this label. That got you the bonus you needed to pay for Cheryl’s surgery.” You eye him from across the table and watch as he purses his lips and sighs in resignation. 
“Alright, fine. I’ll sign him on with a six-month contract and see where it goes.”
“One year,” you tell him. Six months was too short, in your opinion, and a lot could happen in one year. You wanted him to go on tour by then.
Charles scrunches his nose but nods. “Alright, fine. We’re even after this?”
You nod at him. “We’re even. Contact Vision next Saturday and get him to sign on.”
You spin your wine glass at the stem delicately between your fingers. “Celebrate. Make sure he understands this is his one shot and keep him busy the entire night.” 
Charles chuckles and nods just as the food is coming in. “Alright, will do. You’ve got a strange way of getting rid of things that are in your way. What if he actually becomes big?”
You smile sardonically, “I’ll make sure to send him a congratulations card signed by my girlfriend and me. She’s his biggest supporter.”
“Oh, you’ve got yourself a new girlfriend?” Charles asks, smiling at you.
“If all goes well, I will.”
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The day of the party, you woke up early. You delicately wrapped Wanda’s present and set it aside. Wanda had called you soon after frantically panicking about something going wrong today, so you had to spend some time calming her down and reassuring her that everything was fine and that you’d even call the hotel, the catering, and the band to triple check everything. 
The gathering was supposed to happen at 5pm tonight, so you made time to bring lunch to Natasha who told you she would meet you there as she might be a little late from work with Tony. Deciding to show up an hour earlier, you approached the venue to see Wanda running around to make sure everything was okay.
The venue was outside with a beautiful view and stage and dancing floor set up. There were flower decorations and poles with a box on top to hold a fire inside for when it got dark or cold. There were string LED lights set up as well for when it got dark.
You approach her, putting her hand on her shoulder to settle her down. 
“Hey, birthday girl,” you call, and Wanda looked so relieved to see you. “Where’s the fire?”
Wanda wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you into a tight hug. “Oh my god, this is a disaster. The catering company just let me know they’re going to be late. I don’t know what to do when people get here, and there’s going to be no food.”
You rub Wanda’s back soothingly and get her to sit in a chair. “Alright, just sit here and relax. I’m going to get someone to bring you a drink. It’s your birthday, and I feel like you running around like a chicken without its head is hardly what a birthday girl should be doing. Just let me handle this. Where’s Vision?”
Wanda leans back in her chair while you call over a server. “He’s practicing his song for tonight. He should be here when the party starts.”
You nod your head, opting to not say anything. The server comes back with a drink in hand that you pass over to Wanda. “Just sit here and relax a little, okay? Why don’t you make sure everyone you’ve invited will be here?”
Wanda nods to you with a grateful smile as you gently graze your finger on her cheek and walk off. 
Within 45 minutes, you have everything solved and walk back to Wanda, who is just finishing getting off the phone. 
“Hey,” Wanda says as you take a seat next to her, drinks in hand. “What’s going on?”
You hand her another drink and lean back in your seat with a sigh. “It’s solved. I called the catering company who is going to give you a partial refund. I arranged the hotel to serve appetizers that your guests can grab around those tables in the back there. That should probably hold them over until the catering arrives at least.”
Wanda sighs in relief, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Oh, thank God. How much extra is that going to cost?”
You wave your hand off at her, “Don’t even worry about that.”
“No!” Wanda says to you. “You seriously can’t.”
You just smile at her, elbow against the table as your rest your temple against your fist. “Happy Birthday, Wanda.”
“So, is this my birthday present? You saving me from disaster again?” Wanda asks with a smile on her face and eyes twinkling.
“Oh, God no,” you laugh. “That’d be too tacky.” 
You chat for another couple minutes, but Wanda tells you she’s going to go change as she booked a room at the hotel for tonight. 
It isn’t long before she’s back and some of the guests start to arrive. You recognize some of them as other social influencers Wanda has taken pictures with or was in a video with. She has photographers and brand representatives she’s worked with before. Some of her personal friends outside of the ones you’ve already met arrive as well. 
The room is beginning to fill up, and the appetizers arrive just in time for the guests along with the band who are playing live music. 
Wanda is flitting around, socializing with everyone while you’re watching the hotel workers gather the insane amount of presents into one corner. 
God, this is bigger than a wedding. 
Soon enough, you see Steve, Bucky, Bruce, Thor, and Clint arrive. There are some other people that you don’t recognize with them. They walk up to you first as Wanda is lost within the crowd somewhere.
“This is so Wanda,” Clint comments with a smile and shake of his head. 
They introduce you to the people they brought with them, but honestly, the names just fly over your head since there are so many of them.
As a group, you go in search for Wanda who is currently chatting with a group of girls. As soon as she sees you guys, she turns back to the girls to say she’ll see them later and runs to guys. She immediately hugs Clint first before the rest of the group.
“Jeeze Wanda, did you invite all of California to your party?” Steve says as he hugs her. 
Wanda just laughs as they pull back. “C’mon, you know this is nowhere to Tony’s parties.”
The group seems to mumble in agreement with her. Hovering over the appetizer table, they’re all making conversation when you notice at the door Natasha, Tony, and Pepper walk in half an hour later.
They make their way over to your and Natasha hugs everyone first before saving you for last. 
“Hey,” you greet softly in her ear.
“Hey, yourself,” Natasha greets back with a smile. 
“You look amazing,” you tell the redhead, not even subtly eyeing her in a way that makes everyone look at the two of you. 
“Jesus, get a room,” Clint teases, but Natasha only smirks her lips in response.
You look at Wanda from your peripheral to see that she’s undoubtedly not smiling, but no one is currently looking at her right now.
Another half-hour passes and the catering arrives to serve everyone food. It’s you and the original gang sitting together at the table, except Vision. 
At this point, Wanda looks half irritated, and half worried that she stands up to go call to see where her fiancé is. 
When she comes back, she looks more excited but still a little irritated. 
“Where’s Vision?” Tony asks. “Isn’t he performing his undying love for you tonight?”
Wanda gives a smile as she looks at everyone, “Apparently, he got a call from an agent at a record label saying they discovered his SoundCloud. They want to meet up with him immediately to see if he will sign on because they’re flying out tonight.”
Everyone’s cheering, including yourself.
“That is the most amazing news, Wanda! Will he still be able to make it tonight?” Thor asks with his booming voice and cheery smile. 
Wanda nods, “Oh, yeah. He promised for sure that he was going to be able to make it back in time.”
You only smile as you eat your food, checking your phone discreetly at you do.
Going over the contract in excruciatingly full detail. Celebrating will be right after all night. You’re welcome. 
You read the text and put your phone away. The evening falls into the night as the band plays and everyone’s mingling and dancing. You had a couple guys approach you that you quickly shot down. Then a couple girls would approach you before Natasha would come and scare them off.
“A little territorial, aren’t we?” You tease the redhead as she huffs. 
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt?” She deadpans, and you have to contain your laughter because you don’t think she would appreciate it. 
You grab her hand and pull her on the dance floor. You hold her hand in one, your other hand settling on her back at the base of her spine while her hand settles on your shoulder near the bottom of your neck. 
You lead her through the rhythm and steps, smiling as you do so. As you turn, you can see Wanda watching the two of you from afar along with the gang.
“Is this too much?” You ask softly. “Might get exposed at this rate.”
Natasha’s lips curl upward in a seductive smile, her lips ghosting over your own. “Every secret gets revealed eventually.”
More people start to fill the dance floor. You eventually split up from Natasha as Bucky grabs her for a dance. You danced with Steve who looked really nervous and stepped on your toes a couple times, but you reassured him and guided him through the steps. By the end of it, he was still a little robotic, but at least he wasn’t stepping on your toes. You danced with Thor, who was just a whirlwind on the floor, completely confident in guiding his partner. You were almost dizzy by the time you landed in Clint’s arms.
“So,” he starts. “You and Natasha?”
You just grin at him if this was the attempt of his protective friend talk.
“Maybe,” you say. “She’s a complicated gal.”
“You don’t seem so simple yourself,” Clint comments as his eyes move over to Wanda. 
You had to give it to him for being so perceptive. But you were sure he didn’t know quite exactly what was going on.
“No one is ever just simple,” you finally say. Wanda finishes her dance with Tony and is making her way over to the two of you.
“Just remember everything doesn’t have to be difficult either,” Clint tells you as Wanda interrupts the two of you.
“Alright, Clint, I had my birthday dance with you. She’s the only one left who owes me one.” Wanda says, and Clint looks at you but still defers to Wanda with a smile and nod.
You hold her the same way you did with Natasha, but Wanda scoots much closer to you. 
“So you and Natasha?” Wanda asks, and you let out a light chuckle.
“That seems to be the big question tonight, but I think we should focus on you today. It is your special day, after all.”
Wanda looks at you with a slight pout. “It’s my birthday, so you will answer my questions.”
You just smile at her, twirling her around.
“It’s undefined,” you confess as she comes back into your arms. You swear you could hear a sigh of relief.
“When did that even happen?” Wanda asks as if she was trying to recall all the times she saw the two of you together.
“About three weeks ago, when I had dinner with her. She wants to take it slow and slow meant keeping it a secret and undefined.”
Wanda frowns, “That doesn’t seem very fair to you.”
You just shrug, swaying with Wanda as you glide her across the dance floor. 
“It is what is.”
To stop Wanda from inquiring anymore, you twirl her in your arms before dipping her slightly as you hold her up with your hand on her back.
The song ends, so you pull her back up with a smirk since her cheeks are lightly dusted pink.
Natasha comes up at the moment, putting her hand on your shoulder.
“Drinks?” She asks, and you nod, dropping Wanda’s hand and telling her you’d see her later.
You walk off with Natasha. She looked a little tense, but you assumed that was because of her last dance with Bruce. He had been staring on and off at you and Natasha ever since you had first danced with her.
It was now a delicate situation for you. It was clear that there were a lot of things left unsaid between Natasha and Bruce, but Natasha still liked you.
Perhaps seeing Natasha move on with someone was more surprising to Bruce than he thought would affect him.
If you played this right, you could probably keep whatever you had going on with Natasha long enough before Bruce snapped and went back for Natasha.
It was a mystery on how Natasha would react to that though.
It occurred to you that you really had no idea how to read Natasha clearly. You weren’t lying to Clint when you said she was a complicated person. 
Perhaps if you could have normal relationships, Natasha would be the perfect person for you.
But you couldn’t. 
It didn’t appeal to you. 
“Damn, Vision is pushing it kind of close,” Natasha said, pulling you out of your thoughts as she ordered drinks for the two of you. You looked around and could hear some of the people commenting on how Vision was missing. 
Some of the girls who came along definitely were more jealous of Wanda than a friend. It was like they were rooting for her embarrassment.
The night continued on but as the time came closer, Wanda began to get more stressed as she was trying to find out where Vision was. He had neither texted or called her. Still, she continued on, believing that her fiancé would show up like he had promised.
It was the last half-hour before Vision was supposed to play for Wanda. The birthday girl was calling him, but it kept going to voicemail.
“Oh my god,” Wanda whispered, putting her hand to her forehead. “Where the hell is he?”
The rest of the group looked unhappy and tried to reach the man themselves, but the same thing happened as it kept ringing until it went to voicemail.
Wanda could hear some of the whispers of her guest that Vision was missing and some backhanded comments made her clench her jaw.
“This is so embarrassing,” Wanda said, turning to face the group, so she didn’t have to hear the comments as much.
The combination of her hurt, disappointed, and embarrassed expression really did break your heart. 
“Maybe something happened? I’ll call to see if there have been any accidents on the road or if he checked into any hospitals.” Clint said as he walked off with Steve and Bucky, and raised his phone to his ear. 
Fifteen minutes later, they came back with reluctant expressions.
“Nothing,” Clint said with an apologetic expression.
Wanda sighed, taking a seat at the table in front of the stage and shaking her head. “Just...tell the band to keep playing, I guess. I’ll end the party soon.”
Wanda watches as you whisper something to Natasha and walk off. Everyone is trying to comfort her, but she can’t help but feel so flustered. Vision had literally made such a big deal that he wrote her a song for her birthday and was so excited to perform it for her. He had gone and told everyone when she was inviting people to her birthday.
She was excited to hear him play for her. He had been so weird with her lately, and this was such a romantic gesture. She was basking in the congratulations she was getting.
He had talked about wanting to finalize a date for their wedding and Wanda had actually hesitated in her mind briefly before agreeing they should.
Why did she hesitate? She wanted to say she didn’t know, but if she were honest with herself, your electric eyes popped up in her mind. 
She found herself obsessing over you ever so slowly. What were you doing? Why was Natasha calling you again? God, why did you treat her so good? Did you treat Natasha this good? Why did your hands feel so hot on her?
Wanda looked at her phone again to see if Vision was returning any of her texts. God, if he isn’t seriously injured, she was going to be so pissed at him.
She could hear some girls snicker behind her again, and she closed her eyes. Damn, being a social influencer could be hallowing sometimes.
Suddenly, there was some noise from the stage and a cough into the mic that made Wanda snap her head up. She found you, in your Lady Phantom mask standing up there. You were still in your same outfit though, so people who had seen and interacted with you earlier in the day knew it was you.
You stood up there, holding a ukelele a little awkwardly as you’re more used to standing behind a DJ stand.
“Hello, everyone,” you greeted into the mic, and you heard a couple cheers from the people who recognized you or was a fan of Lady Phantom. 
“I’m Lady Phantom, here to perform for a very, very special birthday girl. It’s no original, so forgive me, but it’s most certainly dedicated to you. Happy Birthday, Wanda Maximoff.”
Wanda could hear the excited whispering from her guests and friends. People had pulled their phones as Lady Phantom has never sung before, nevermind singing live. 
She watched as you turned around, signaling the band and then started to strum your ukelele.
Wanda recognized the riff immediately. She couldn’t believe you. You were playing Riptide by Vance Joy, her favorite song she mentioned in passing on the night in the Palm Desert.
I was scared of dentists and the dark I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations Oh, all my friends are turning green You're the magician's assistant in their dreams
You kept eye contact with Wanda the entire time, your voice was melodic in a way no one would’ve ever guessed. Though you didn’t possess a wide vocal range and not technically adept, this song was perfect for you. You were a little breathy, and it made Wanda’s heart skip a beat. 
Wanda laughed as you winked at her, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe you were doing this for her. Saving her from disaster once more. People around her were whispering about how it was possible to get Lady Phantom to sing for her. It outshined the news that her fiancé didn’t show up. People were so vapid that they were more amazed by a hotshot DJ was here singing rather than a heartful performance from a nobody.
Wanda looked over to see Natasha watching, looking a little conflicted as it was evident that you were only focusing on Wanda. 
And it made her feel smug. 
Wanda looked back at you as you sang with your eyes closed, strumming the ukelele and tapping your foot.
You opened your eyes, looking right at Wanda. This was for her.
Everything was for her. 
I can't have it, I can't have it any other way
The background noises faded out, people were blurring away as you looked at her with an intensity that forced her to only see you. 
I swear she's destined for the screen Closest thing to Michelle Pfeiffer that you've ever seen, oh
You smiled as you sang that line, and Wanda was smiling back at you, tears welling up in her eyes. Her heart was swelling up with an emotion she couldn’t even identify.
Why did it feel so right?
You were coming down to the final riff as you sang softly. 
Lady, running down to the riptide Taken away to the dark side I wanna be your left hand man I love you when you're singing that song and I got a lump in my throat 'cause You're gonna sing the words wrong 
The song soon came to an end as you strummed the last note. The crowd erupted in cheers for you, phone flashes going off as photos were being taken. Wanda stood up, clapping as well. People were still recording as you bent down, kneeling on the stage on one knee in front of Wanda as you gave her the ukelele. She turned it over on the back to see your signature on it and a short message.
Happy Birthday, Lady
From your left-hand man,
Lady Phantom
A tear slipped out of Wanda’s eyes as she looked at you with a gigantic smile. You softly used your index finger to poke her nose with a smirk before getting up, waving to the crowd, and walked off the stage. 
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶ 
The party went on for another hour before Wanda ended it and bid all of her guests' goodnight and thank you for coming to the party.
It was pretty crazy after you had come off the stage. You had decided to keep your mask on afterward even though there were people who had seen you without it. But now, with all the flashing photos, you did want to minimize the amount of exposure you were going to get. 
It was increasingly difficult to be able to spend time with Wanda or Natasha after as you constantly kept having groups of people come up to you and chat you up or ask for a photo. 
A girl had come up to you too close for comfort and asked for a photo. You saw Natasha watching you in the distance with an unimpressed look before smirking at you a little. 
You chuckled awkwardly at the girl clinging to you after the photo was taken, using your hands to pry her off as you walked off briskly to Natasha.
Seemingly standing with the redhead, she emitted an aura that prevented anyone else from coming up. You sighed in relief while Natasha asked her arms crossed.
“Quite the romantic gesture you did,” she commented. 
You pursed your lip at her. “C’mon Natasha, it’s Wanda’s birthday. Her fiancé is missing in action after making such a big deal about his performance. She looked crushed and really embarrassed. I couldn’t just let that happen on her birthday.”
Natasha eyes you for a moment before sighing and uncrossing her arms. “I know, I was seriously going to beat some of these girls’ asses for making snide comments about Wanda. Why did she even invite half these people?”
“Networking,” you answer, adjusting your mask. 
Natasha made a disgruntled noise and looked at you again. 
“Come home with me tonight,” she tells you. You smile at her with a nod. The party was ending with people leaving.
“I’ll have to meet you later though, I still have to give Wanda her gift.” You tell the redhead who nods. She looks around to see everyone occupied and turns back to kiss you lightly on the cheek and leaves. 
You stay back until everyone has left, grabbing your present from the stack that had gathered. Wanda looks incredibly exhausted as you approach her.
“Let’s go to my room,” Wanda says, grabbing your hand and drags you off while the hotel staff starts cleaning up. They tell her they’ll have her gifts send to her room in the morning and keep it locked up for tonight. Ukelele in hand, Wanda lets go your hand to press the floor to her place in the elevator. With it now just the two of you, you relax a little more, the tension leaving from your shoulders.
“Your friends are kind of insane,” you mumble, referring more to her social influencer group of friends. 
“Yeah...I wouldn’t call Stacey a friend really. She’s pretty new and can be...aggressive,” Wanda says with a crinkle in her brow. You smile lightly, using your finger to press against the crinkle and watches as it fades out as Wanda looks at you. 
The elevator dings to signal you’ve arrived on the 20th floor. Wanda grabs your hand again and drags you out and down the hall to her room. She opens the door with her key pass and shuts the door behind you. 
With a sigh, she gently sets down the ukelele you gave her. The room is pretty dark, but Wanda doesn’t make any move to turn on the lights. She had a pretty good suite with the window facing the outside view.
Moonlight shined through the open curtains illuminating the room. When you turn around, Wanda is there, and she lifts her hands to gently take off your mask, smiling as your eyes framed by your long lashes come into view. 
It’s silent for a moment as Wanda puts your mask on the table. You just stand there, staring at each other. 
It’s more intimate than any kiss or sex you’ve ever had. 
“Thank you,” Wanda finally says. “Thank you for the beautiful performance, for saving me from embarrassment. You always seem to be my knight in shining armor.”
You chuckle softly, shifting to your other foot. 
“I would hardly call you a damsel in distress,” you tease her softly. Then you lift your present in your hand to her. She stares at the box in confusion. 
“What’s this?” She asks.
“Your present?” You reply with a raise of your brow and smirk. 
“You mean the ukelele isn’t my present?” Wanda asks, turning her eyes over to the instrument she had laid down. 
You let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, God, no. I don’t even know what you’d do with a ukelele. Can you even play? No, God, no. I just had that in the back of my car for my new collab I was working on this week. I can get another one.”
Wanda just let out a tiny smile, and she grabs the beautifully wrapped gift from your hand. She pulls the string to undo the bow and lets it fall to the ground. Placing the box to rest against her forearm, she lifts the lid and stares at the content confusedly. 
She grabs out the thin stack of paper that is neatly stabled together. 
“What...is this?” Wanda asks, eyeing the front page that only had a title on it.
“Your script,” you answer with a smile. “You’ll need to learn it for your audition in eight weeks.”
Wanda just looks at you, shellshocked. She looks back at the script and then back to you.
“What?” She asks, disbelief in her tone. You just continue to smile.
She drops the box and flips through the script. The first couple of pages had the characters and premise of the story. The rest only had a particular scene, but when she read it, she loved it. 
“How did you...? What?” Wanda asks again, and you laugh.
“It’s not guaranteed, but I know someone who is doing auditions for a movie he’s directing. He’s willing to give you a shot even though you have no portfolio in acting. It did make it better you’re a social influencer, and I did tell him even David is going to be working with you.”
Wanda is just smiling, letting out a burst of laughter in shock. Wanda just watches as you turn around, babbling about how you had complete faith in her she was going to nail it, that she seriously needed to get into acting because the world was missing out, and how you knew an acting coach you could contact to help her with tips or run lines.
It just hit Wanda. 
It hit her why she hesitated about finalizing a date to get married to Vision. Why she didn’t care that Vision ended up never showing up. Why she thought about you all the time lately. Why she wanted to throttle Natasha every time her friend got close to you.
She thought back to when she met you, the trust fund kid’s birthday bash, the night at Tony’s, the hot jealousy burning she felt at watching you get along with Natasha, how she cried about Pietro with you, how you comforted her with your own stories, the work you put in to make paprikash for her, the beach, Wasteland, your hands on her waist, the music, your lips, the pier, everything.
You were still babbling, but the moment you turned around, Wanda disregarded the script on the floor and crashed her lips into yours. She fisted her hands on your shoulder, sliding them up to cup your neck, pulling you closer as her eyes closed. 
As good as it felt, the next moment, Wanda snapped her eyes open and yanked away from you. You hadn’t even reacted, shocked that Wanda kissed you. 
“Oh, god,” Wanda whispered. She looked at you, lips trembling. “I--I’m so sorry, I--”
You didn’t even give her a chance to finish as you rushed forward, cupping her jaw as you collided your lips into Wanda’s again. She let out a moan, feeling your lips against her. You pushed her back until her back hits the table stand and you used your hands to lift her up onto the table. She was yanking at your leather jacket to get it off, and you released her for a quick second, to let the jacket fall down your arms. 
Your lips met hers over and over again messily as she wrapped her arms around your neck to keep you close. Her legs were spread open and wrapped around your torso tightly as your hands slid from her bottom up her back, finding the zipper of her dress to pull it down all the way. Wanda encourages you with her hand fisting your hair tightly, kissing you more aggressively, slipping her tongue into your mouth. 
You groaned, grabbing her roughly off of the table and turned around to walk towards the bed, throwing her against the mattress roughly. Her dress began to slip off her, exposing her chest covered by her strapless lacy white bra that had you biting your lip. 
Wanda’s hair splayed messily against the sheets, and her lips looked plump from kissing you so hard. She was flushed and breathing heavily as she stared at you with dilated pupils.
The sight made you moan softly, climbing atop of her as she readily let you between her legs. You kissed her lips again, not as fervent as you first did, slower but as hard as the first. Your hand traced down her arm until you reached her hand and brought it next to her head and laced your fingers together. Your lips left hers, pressing kisses against her jawline before moving downwards against her neck. 
Wanda let out a soft moan, her torso lifting up to press against you. You sucked against the skin, releasing just before you could make a mark. You moved your lips more down and nibbled against her collarbone. She let out a high pitched whine that made you smile against her skin. 
You wanted more.
You needed more. 
She wanted more. 
You were getting lost in her, wanting to stir more noises out of her.
You shifted your body, your navel ground against Wanda’s core firmly through her dress.
“Oh,” Wanda moaned needily as she lifted her hips, desperate to get more friction. Her hand tightened against yours, and you went back up to kiss her lips again. 
Wanda moved her lips against yours, sucking on your bottom lip, making you groan into her mouth as she released it and licked against it slowly. 
You were going to devour her. You really were. 
She was looking at you through half-lidded eyes that begged you to just fuck her.
Just as you were going to smash your lips against her, your phone began to ring loudly in your back pocket.
The noise woke you. You blinked as Wanda let out a quiet groan of disappointment, throwing her head back on the mattress.
You pull out your phone to see it’s Natasha calling. 
You looked at Wanda, flushed, chest heaving as she was hot and heavy. 
You needed to make your exit now. 
“Shit,” you swore, catching her attention. You picked up the phone.
“Hey, Natasha,” You said, trying to gain your breathing again. “No, yeah, I’m on my way. Yeah, see you.”
You hung up, looking at Wanda with an overwhelmed expression. 
“I--” You tried to say, but not sure what to really say.
“Fuck, Wanda,” You said, “What the hell are we doing?”
You get off of her, running your fingers through your hair. You’re about to turn around, but Wanda sits up and grabs your arm to force you to turn back to her. 
“No, you can’t go to her. Not after--not after you’re about to be with me.” Wanda says, her eyes telling you to stay. Her dress was sliding off of her body as she sat up and you had to rip your eyes away from looking at her chest and taut stomach. Her jaw was set in a line, and you’re tempted to stay.
But you know you shouldn’t. 
“Wanda,” you tell her. “We can’t.”
“You can’t lie to me and say you don’t want me too. You feel it, whatever it is between us. You can’t erase that.” Wanda challenges you.
You sigh, not denying it. You pull your arm away, forcing Wanda to let go.
“That doesn’t change that you have Vision and I have Natasha waiting for me. So whatever it is, is it enough to make you leave him?”
Wanda is silent. 
It confirms what you thought. 
“Exactly,” you say. “We’re friends, Wanda. That has to be enough.”
Not letting her say anything else, you turn around, grabbing your jacket off the floor and leave her in the hotel room alone.
In the elevator, you put back on your leather jacket and wipe the lipgloss that smudged on you from Wanda.
You smirk as your thumb swipes your bottom lip. 
Goddamn, Wanda was quite the dangerous one if you let her be. She lured you in to the point you couldn’t even think.
She was absolutely sinful.
The elevator dinged and you pushed off the railing walking out the hotel doors to your car. You briefly looked up to the floor she would be on.
Patience, you reminded yourself. You’re almost there. You could see she was starting to unravel for you. 
The game was far from over, and Wanda was quite the active participant now.
PART VII
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spooky-raccoon · 4 years
Text
Road Trip (Part 11)
Rufo X Female Reader
Part 11 of Road Trip
Rufo’s perspective is in BOLD
Tag List:  @booklover2929​ @rottenhearts-and-sharpteeth​ @the-clown-crypt​ @chii2blog​
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         I don’t know how much time had passed but it felt like ages until seeing a truck come into sight.  The thing looked like it was about to fall apart with every pump it hit.  It was barreling down the driveway and my heart started to pound in my chest to the point I could hear it thudding in my ears
        “There he is.”  Crowley got up from his seat at the table and walked over to stand off the side behind me. “That was pretty impressive with how fast he found you.”
         No words as the truck only sped up faster and I was trying to not get antsy in my chair.  I didn’t want it to break just yet.  He was close enough that I could see his face from inside the truck cab. He wasn’t even hiding the fact he was a clown and how angry he was. His eyes were sunken in and there was a faint glow from where they were.  It was a relief but also terrifying to see him like that.
        “Oh, that clown doesn’t have a happy face. Perfect.” Crowley clasped a hand on my shoulder and kept it there as we watched the tall, boney like figure stop and get out of the truck.
         He was covered in blood and other viscera. Someone had been a poor unfortunate soul to get in his way.  Probably the owner of the truck or some fools back at the small circus.  There was already a throwing knife in his hand as he stormed the house and I lost sight for a brief moment until he kicked down the door.  It splintered with little effort and remnants of it scattered across the floor.
         “Crowley, you fucking son a bitch.”  Rufo was walking forward and his eyes fell onto me then the symbol on the ground which made him stop.  “Son of a bitch.”  His words were more like hisses the angrier he was becoming.   He looked back to me and the grip on his knife tightened.  I can see the veins in his hand shift from his grip.  “Are you alright (Y/N)?  You aren’t hurt?”
        “No, no.  I’m okay.  I’m okay now.”  I could feel tears try to well up in my eyes as I answered him.  I just wanted to run to him. I wanted to grab him and tell him everything would be okay and that we could run and go back to enjoying the trip. But Crowley spoke again and reminded me that it was easier said than done.
        “Rufo, you and I have been at it for a while. I’m getting pretty tired having you pop up now and again when I have more important things to worry about. Get in the circle and I’ll let her go.”  He patted my shoulder to emphasis what was at stake. “On my word she’ll be let go while your spirit gets removed from that vessel and gets to go where it needs to go.”
        Rufo didn’t say anything, just stared at me with those sunken glowing eyes.  Crowley let go of my shoulder to gesture to the circle on the floor then I could hear his hands going in his pockets.  Another moment of silence and the clatter of the throwing knife falling to the ground nearly made me jump. His face looked plumper and human like the longer he stared at me.
        “If she isn’t safe than you mark my words Crowley, I’ll come back and gut you where you stand.”  His voice sent a shiver straight up my spine and he look at Crowley dead in the eyes.  “I’ll come back and be your worst nightmare.”  
        Rufo began to walk forward, his eyes staying on me. I could hear Crowley behind me lowly chanting and some of the symbols in the circle started to glow.  That’s when my heart dropped. I was going to lose Rufo.  I was going to lose him after just getting to know him.  That’s when I saw my moment and I took it.
         The old, rickety chair shattered as I launched myself forward. It was a little sickening with how it cracked.  Crowley didn’t have a chance to grab me and I was already where I wanted to be.  My shoulder connected to Rufo’s chest which sent him flying out of the circle he had only managed to get a few steps in.  
         It had been the right time too as the lights changed color and light shot upward toward the ceiling.  Whatever it was, it broke through the old ceiling and made pieces of wood rain down on me.  Though being caught in the crossfire of the blinding light I didn’t notice. Especially when the pain took over.  Fire coursed through my veins and it was like glass shards followed with.  It hurt too much to scream.  I couldn’t even writhe on the ground as some invisible force was keeping me in place.  My mouth hung open has my body tried to get some noise out, something to try to make the pain lessen.  Tears poured from my eyes which only was more painful itself.
        “Crowley do something!”  I could barely hear Rufo’s shouting.
         “There’s nothing I can do!  No one can enter the circle until it’s done.”  There was almost a hint of a solemn tone from Crowley.
         Rufo get close to the circle and I could see his face out of the corner of my eye.  Fear.  Fear and worry plastered his face as he watched me.  The pain only got worse.  It felt like every inch inside of me itched and burned then like someone was inside me, trying to get me out of my own body.
        “(Y/N), doll, stay with me.  Stay with an old clown.  Listen to me and don’t go.”  There was a desperate sound in his voice that I could barely hear over the ringing and pounding in my ears.  
        I’d say I blacked out, but it was more of a white out.  White light flooded my vision and I don’t know if the screaming I heard was my own, but it was soon joined in by a choir of screams that ascended to a painful crescendo then suddenly crashed into final blissful silence.  Just as sudden as the screaming ended, so did the pain that had ran rampant through my body.  The whiteness faded to black and it felt like my soul slipped into a peaceful numbness. I didn’t know if I was dead or what was going on.  Everything felt weightless, free floating.  It was so calm.
        “(Y/N)!”  I slid over to her once the damn light show was done.  “Come on, wake up.  Wake up.” I wrapped my arms around her to pull her close and to see if she was breathing.  She was.  It was shallow and barely visible.  “(Y/N), don’t go where I can’t go.”  My voice dropped but Crowley must have heard me.
         “Come on Rufo, let’s get her out of here and to the hospital.”  Crowley perked up and made his way to the door.  “She needs medical attention.”
         I didn’t argue.  Not as I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the truck.  Not as I got her laid out in the back seat and Crowley climbed into the passenger seat after helping me.  We didn’t speak the entire ride.  I couldn’t get myself calmed enough and I’m sure my knuckles would be even more white if possible as I gripped the steering wheel.
         “You really care about her.”  Crowley spoke after a while of silence.  “I’ve never seen this side of you before”
         “She’s an innocent gal.  She deserves a happy and normal life.  I just happened to bump into her at a gas station in the middle of nowhere.”  
        “Rufo, I can tell you two are close.  I’ve never known you to let someone get this far along knowing you and even traveling with them.  You’re always alone.”  Crowley’s eyes were still on the road though I could tell he was watching me from the corner of them.  I’m surprised the man didn’t have his damn smile on his face that he usually had.
         “We had a lot in common the more I came to find out.  And I couldn’t help but be curious after a point.  Then when it did get to that point I didn’t have the heart to kill her.” I sighed, the various memories of us playing through my mind.  I wish I could go back to the little diner in that little booth.  “She’s has a kind heart and an old soul.  She deserves to live a full life.”
         “Just don’t leave her high and dry just yet Rufo. We don’t know what happened to her when she was in there.  After the hospital I suggest taking her to Albert to see if anything else went on.”
         “I was thinking the same thing Crowley.”
         The drive wasn’t terribly long, and we had arrived at the hospital.  I watched as Crowley scooped up (Y/N) from the back seat and carried her inside.  I was only more frustrated with myself as I sat in the parking lot from not being calm enough to get the damn human skin to get over my face so I could have gone in with.  To be by her side and in the little room they would have put her in. Waiting there as they ran the tests. I flipped on the radio and switched it to the oldies to calm my nerves.  Some familiar ones from our drives played and I could feel the tug of a smile on my scarred lips as I remembered how she sang to each one. When she really got into it she wiggled in her seat to mimic dancing.  She had such spunk and energy that I couldn’t help but join along, even if my voice wasn’t as good as hers.
         After a couple of songs I managed to look more fleshy and get the human look back on my face.  It didn’t take long to get directed to the room she would be in. Crowley was seated by the bed and there was an empty chair near him which I took.
         “They said they’re doing some tests.  It’ll be a few hours at the least so buckle down.” Crowley moved to stand up, stretching from being uncomfortable in the seat.  “I’ll leave you to it.  Get her car back over here so you’re not moving her in that old jalopy of a truck.”
         There had been a long pause and I could feel his eyes on me.  I hated it. I turned my head to look up at him and gave him a nod.
         “I’ll see you around, Crowley.  And… thank you.”  The words almost felt a little sour in my mouth.  That made Crowley smile that damn creepy smile.
         “Just tell me how she’s doing the next time we run into each other.”  With that, Crowley left the room without a trace.
         There I sat for too many hours with my thoughts. With the worries of what sort of things they were doing to her.  Sure, the medical world had gotten a lot better since I was last alive but magic like that would have left some damage.  Or maybe nothing physical at all.  Only time would tell.  I somehow managed to fall asleep in that uncomfortable chair into a dreamless sleep.
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maaaaaatryoshka0325 · 5 years
Text
Arcane - Lee Know Mafia AU Part 6
Warnings: Attempt rape, gun violence
Authors note: if you are triggered by attempt rape scenes DO NOT READ or read at your own risk. ( No one gets raped I promise) and remember: if you are a victim of rape, SPEAK OUT. Do NOT remain silent. You are strong and I love you 💕 it is NEVER your fault.
(Part1) (Part2) (Part3) (Part4) (Part5)
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You stood in your room in the wine red dress Minho had gotten you when you first came. It hugged your curves beautifully as you applied lipstick to top off the look. Your make up was nicely done and your hair was curled, some half down and some half up in a cute style. You held the necklace Minho had gotten you as a knock was heard on your door.
“Come in.” You called.
You looked in the mirror to see Minho walk in. He walked over to you as he looked at you through the mirror.
“Almost ready?” He asked.
You nodded as you fumbled while trying to attach the chain. His finger tips brushes over yours as he gently took it from your fingers and hooked it on for you.
“It looks nice on you.” He said before walking out.
You smiled at the door before finishing off your look.
You walked downstairs as the boys turned and looked at you. Whistles were thrown at you and you smiled at them, twirling around in the dress.
“You look great!” Felix said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “I might have to take you on a date next.”
You playfully hit his chest and laughed as all the members complimented you.
“Okay, now down to business.” Chan said.
Chan explained that you were to go to dinner with him and try and flirt as much as you can. Afterwards, you had to try and get him alone, maybe have him bring you back to his house.
Minho walked over to you and handed you a strap with a knife.
“Wrap it around your thigh. If things get out of hand, try and protect yourself.” He said.
You nodded and took it from him.
“Awe, are you worried Hyung?” Felix laughed.
Minho didn’t say anything as you walked out of the room and I to the bathroom to lift your dress and attach it to a high part of your thigh. You walked out as Chan called a chauffeur who drove you to the resteraunt. You waited outside until you felt a large hand on your back.
“Hello.” The voice purred into your ear.
You turned around and made eye contact with a chubby middle aged man who was average in height. He had eyes that ate you whole and made you get the goosebumps.
“Are you cold?” He aske, noticing your goosebumps and taking his jacket off.
“Such a gentleman, I think I’m in love.” You flirted.
He smirked and wrapped his arm around your waist as he led you inside of fancy resteraunt. He led you to a booth in the back as a waiter handed you menu’s. He gave you both glasses of wine and he smiled at you.
“What was your name again?” He asked.
“Y/N.” You said.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. My real name is Hanmin, I’d prefer oppa, but I’d like the sound of my name coming out of those pretty lips.” He said with a smirk.
“Okay, Hanmin Oppa.” You purred, rubbing his forearm.
He smiled at you before gesturing towards the menu.
“Get whatever you want, the steak here is exquisite.” He said.
“I’m a steak kind of gal.” You smiled.
“Good, I love me a women that can eat a steak.” He said.
You both ordered as you tried and make small talk, from the cars he drove, to his nice house, to comforting him about his mother’s death.
“You’re a special kind of women you know, I’ve never met anyone like you.” He said.
“Do you say that to every women?” You asked with a playful tone.
“No, and I mean it.” He said with a smirk.
Your food got to the table and you tried to be as elegant was you can with the food you were eating.
“You look so beautiful, even eating a whole steak.” He said with a smile.
You smiled back as you continued eating. He made as much small talk as possible and you tried to flirt as hard as you could, despite being a little creeped out by the way his eyes ate at your cleavage.
After dinner, he led you out of the resteraunt and began to drive with you in the passenger seat. His hand kept creeping up your thigh and you cough or distract him every time. You noticed he was driving towards the end of the city and felt nervous.
“You live on the edge of the city?” You asked.
“I’m taking you somewhere special.” He said with a smirk.
When you arrived it looked like an abandoned building.
“Where are we?” You asked.
You felt him grab you and pull you out of the car. You began to kick around and flail about as he dragged you inside.
“Ow! What are you doing?!” You yelled.
“Giving you what every women deserves.” He hissed.
He dragged you inside and slammed you on the ground, unbuckling his belt.
“Don’t!” You yelled.
He grabbed your thighs and tried to raise your dress, but you kept fighting back as hard as you could.
The knife!
You slid your hand up your thigh and grabbed it, stabbing into his shoulder. He yelled out in pain and ripped it out before thrashing it at you, skimming the side of your neck.
“Dirty little bitch.” He snarled.
He grabbed you again and you started to scream. It shocked you who you screamed for.
“Minho!” You cried as tears poured down your face as you kept pushing him away from you.
He grabbed your arms before a loud bang filled the room and he fell sideways with a loud thud. You looked up and saw Minho put his gun back on his waist before hurrying over to you.
“Minho-“ You whimpered.
He dropped down next to you and pulled you tightly into his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head. You clutched his shirt tightly as you cried into his chest, his strong arms holding you tightly. He pulled away to cup your face.
“Did he do anything to you?” He asked, his dark eyes filled with anger and worry.
“Did he-“
“No. He didn’t.” You managed to get out.
He pulled you back into his strong embrace as you buried your face into his chest.
“It’s okay, no one can hurt you now. I’ve got you.” He said softly into your ear.
The other members came in and saw the man dead, his brain on the other side of the room. Minho kept his arms around you as Chan began to talk to him, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Minho lifted you and brought you back to the car, putting you in the passenger seat before taking off back towards the mansion. Your body was cold and you shook with fear and adrenaline as he drove back quietly. He stopped at a red light and took his leather jacket off, putting it over your lap.
When you got back to the mansion your legs were still wobbly, so he carried you in as you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. He placed you on a table as Woojin checked the small nick in the side of your neck.
“Not deep, just needs to be cleaned.” He said, patching it up.
After he finished, he left you and Minho alone in the room.
“I should’ve been there sooner, I’m sorry.” He said suddenly.
“It’s okay, thank you for getting there when you did.” You said.
Your face suddenly turned red as you remembered that you had cried out for him. Your eyes were on your hands before you looked up and met his eyes. The ice that was usually in them wasn’t there, just worry. He noticed you were still trembling and pulled the back of your head until your head was on his shoulder. You closed your eyes as his cologne filled your nose. He stroked your hair as he held you tightly, his face in your hair.
Jeongin walked in and he let you go as the younger ran over to you and tackled you in a crushing hug.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked.
Felix and Hyunjin came in after and sat with you as you calmed down.
“I have to say I’m impressed, that stab wound on his should shows you didn’t hesitate.” He said.
“I didn’t.” You said lowly.
“Good. I’m glad you defended yourself.” He said, hugging you.
While the hug was nice and comforting, for some reason, you wished it was Minho again.
Two days had passed since your last mission, and Minho hadn’t been around at all. You were walking around the shrub maze when you heard a small meow. You turned around and saw a very heavy female cat walking over to you. You smiled and bent down to pet her, causing her to purr loudly.
“You’re cute. Where did you come from?” You asked her.
“She lives here.”
Your turned and saw Minho walking over to you, his eyes once again as cold as ice.
“Oh, okay.” You said, stroking the cats head.
He began to walk away when you got up and called for him.
“Thank you again, for the other day.” You said.
He didn’t say anything as he started walking again. You walked over to him and grabbed his arm.
“You aren’t going to say anything?” You asked.
“Why should I?” He asked flatly.
“What is with you?” You asked.
He turned towards you and raise an eyebrow in confusion.
“I can never tell what you’re thinking. I can never tell if you hate me or not.” You hissed in irritation.
“It’s better off that way.” He muttered.
He walked away and you huffed in irritation. The small cat rubbed against your legs as you looked at her.
“Men fucking suck.”
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jpat82 · 5 years
Text
101 Ways To Kill Bucky Barnes
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The Unraveling
    You woke the next morning and smiled to yourself. Events of the night before filtering in through your head, how apologetic Bucky had been for Tony as he dropped you off. You sat up in bed, tucking one leg under the other and sighed heavily as you stared at the blank white wall before you. Fun and games were going to have to end.
    A text had come through shortly after you had entered the apartment, it was from the men that had ordered the hit on Barnes. They knew that you had been out a couple times with the former assassin and they had made it very clear that you needed to finish the job that they had paid you to do. There was no way of getting out of this, you had to kill him and soon.
    Standing you walked to your closet and got yourself ready for the day. You grabbed your hang gun and the silencer that sat on the dresser. Slowly you passed by your window as you wandered toward the living room. Stopping dead in your tracks, gun below the window, you saw someone looking up at your window from across the street.
     Casually the sandy haired man leaned against the neighboring building. His arms were crossed over his chest and he didn't even try to hide the fact he was watching your window. Squinting your eyes you recalled seeing his picture when you had looked up known associates of Bucky's. This had to be Clint Barton, another assassin, one that had worked for shield. Just your luck.
     After finishing getting ready, and leaving the gun behind, you left your apartment. Once street level you opted to walk to a nearby coffee shop just on the off chance that you were wrong. Sure enough as you had started down the street, Clint pushed himself off the building and crossed the street so he was on your side.
     He tailed behind you about ten feet away, aggravation slowly started to seap up. Sure, that's what assassins do, they follow, learn an individual. But damn it, this was starting to piss you off. You understood, he was probably acting on Tony's behalf, looking out for people in his tower. And yeah, it was smart because of what you had been hired to do. That didn't mean though it didn't piss you off.
    You entered the coffee shop, Clint stopped outside and sat down at one of the wire tables. He continued to casually watch his surroundings. You ordered two coffees and waited watching him while they brewed the caffeinated beverages.
     He had on a black jacket, and his hands were loosely clasped behind his head. His dark sunglasses prevented you from seeing what he was actually looking at out in the street. Everything about his demeanor was loose and comfortable and if you had been anybody else, it would of looked like any other guy just relaxing and enjoying the morning but you knew better. The barista called your name and you grabbed both coffees and headed for the door.
      "Good morning." You stated in a semi pleasant tone setting the coffee in front of Clint. He didn't budge, just continued to look out across the street.
     "Good morning." He replied.
     "Why are you following me?" You asked, still staring down at him.
     "Me?" He asked, finally turning his head upwards toward you as he pointed at his chest. "I'm just taking a stroll through the city." 
      "Sure, then why were staring at my apartment?" You questioned, crossing one arm in front of your chest while you held your coffee in the other hand.
       "Oh, the architecture is pretty awesome, thought maybe I could get Tony to change up the tower so it didn't look so.. modern and boring." He quipped back.
     "I'm guessing Tony put you up to this?"
     "Nope, I don't listen to him." He smirked.
~~~~~
     Natasha crossed the street towards the lot with ransacked cars, the building dead center didn't look any better. But after doing soon research into your history she had been following up on anybody that had had contact with you. It didn't matter how minimal, you didn't seem to really know anyone in the city so she had resorted to places you either frequented or places of big purchases. Like your car.
    She walked into the shop, music blared over the speakers on the work table. A car was raised up and another had the front end completely crumpled in. She by passed both them without a second glance going straight toward the open office door. A man with his black wavy hair that was pulled back dressed in bright colors, stared at the computer before him completely unaware of the woman that had entered. She knocked on the metal door, grabbing his attention.
    He spun around, Natasha watched as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
    "Morning Fernando, long time no see." She said as her lips pulled back to a coy smile. She crossed her arms as she raised an eyebrow at him.
    "Oh, shit." He stated.
——-
     "Tony, give it a rest. What is it about y/n that you don't like?" Bucky asked, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn’t want to confront Tony this morning but after the way he acted last night Bucky couldn’t just put it off.
    "Look, I'm not saying that I don't like her, I just don't know her." Tony replied with a shrug.
    "And so you're having Clint follow her?" Bucky snapped, he slammed his palm on the kitchen counter glaring at the man in front of him.
    "No, I didn't ask him to do that. If I had he wouldn't be doing it." Tony quipped back.
“You didn’t.” Bucky exclaimed as he closed his eyes, that left only one option.
“Didn’t what?”
“Please tell me you didn’t get Nat involved.” Bucky asked taking a deep breath as he opened his eyes and looked across the kitchen at Tony.
“Me? Get Natasha to do something?” He asked.
“Don’t even Tony, I know you. All you’d have to do is breathe about watching someone and she’d jump at the opportunity to get out and tail them.” Bucky snapped, shaking his head as he tried to calm himself down.
“I’m going to level with you Elsa, there have many.. accidents lately that have had you at the center of them. From a mysterious sniper, a car hitting you, a knife being snapped into your mechanical arm pit. Something isn’t adding up, and unfortunately your new gal is the only new thing happening.” Tony replied, ticking each item off with his fingers.
“Doesn’t mean it’s her.” Bucky grumbled and walked away, back to his room as Tony’s words sank deeper and deeper into his head.
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Atrophy (3/?)
Chapter (3/?): Connect the Dots Rating: Teen+ (For: Language, Graphics Depictions of Violence) Summary: Nick's hope of getting out of this continues to drain, as Greg's anxiety isn't eased at all. Chapter Notes: Aaaand this chapter is the reason "Scared of the Dark" is on my playlist for this fic, which I plan on sharing once the fic is complete! (and I might make a moodboard, too) @letswaitforme, @deltajackdalton, @impossiblepluto, @mutatedsilverunicorn, @12percentplan,@telltaleclerk…idk, who else wants to be tagged in updates of this fic?? lemme know ;)
Previous Chapter | Read on ao3
“Is that a pickle in your pocket, or this is all getting a little too exciting for you?”
Nick was only vaguely aware as Veronica pulled his vibrating phone from his pocket. She held it up to her ear, her lips curling upward as she listened to a voicemail that Nick was unaware he had.
“Aw, your poor friend’s wondering where you are...don’t worry, I won’t keep him in suspense,” Veronica cooed, and typed a message on Nick’s phone.
Frozen in shock, Nick didn’t hear a word Veronica said to him. His eyes were transfixed on the space of the trunk, his breathing was increasing in pace and depth. Long, blood curdling screams rang through one ear and out the other. Screams that both were, and weren’t his.
Veronica closed his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. One final buzz taunted him, somehow, it was louder than the rest.
“We might need that again later. It’s time to go home.”
She pushed the shovel forward, his check rubbed against the wood of the handle. Some of the wood was chipped, it would leave marks on his cheek. She had to turn the shovel slightly, to fit the shovel awkwardly against Nick’s motionless body.
Motionless, except for his eyes, which betrayed the emotions he was desperately trying to mask.
“Oh, you poor thing, don’t cry,” Her voice was sickeningly sweet, mocking him. “What’s the matter, are you scared of the dark?”
A string of giggles intertwined into the screams, and he was plunged into darkness once more.
A jolt sputtered the trunk into a gentle vibration, the purr of the engine, smothered music didn’t quite get past the screaming in his ears. His body hiccuped as they hit a few bumps on his journey, but he paid no attention to that.
He was trapped, but not just in the trunk. Crushed under the weight of guilt, that he was chosen for Veronica’s...well, whatever she intended for him, while Officer Marsh was sentenced to the cruelest death.
A death, Nick could only hope was fast and painless, but knew otherwise.
Fast, sure. The pressure of the earth would have crushed Marsh’s chest. Dirt would have filled his lungs. Death by asphyxiation. But painless? Not so much.
He was suffocated, but not from the limited space nor awkward position of his body—his cheek was smashed against the handle of tool that sealed Marsh’s face.
Instead, questions bombarded him, he could hardly breathe, let alone answer them. Why didn’t Marsh just go outside? What was this psychopath’s deal? Who was this person? Where were they going?
Why didn’t Nick call for help?
He could have, before the paralysis set in. He should have.
Instead of cowboying up, drawing his weapon and running head first into danger, he should have called for help.
He should have gone to the back instead of Officer Clark.
He should be the one that’s dead and buried.
He was diminished. It was clear that Veronica saw him nothing more than a plaything, instead of a human being. It stung him to his core, if she wanted him dead he’d be dead by now. She definitely had something else in store for him, something beyond death.
And that scared him more than the dark ever could.
Scared him so much, that it seemed to trigger a reaction in him. His body began to convulse, a fire seized his entire body, twisting and elevating him. His hyperventilating worsened. Something rose up his throat, it felt like hot acid.
This was it, maybe his luck changed after all. He was going down the same path that Officer Marsh went through. Maybe Veronica would think he was dead, bury him. He survived once, he could survive it again.
Vomit spilled out of his mouth, onto his shirt and onto the trunk floor, but he didn’t drift off like Marsh did. He even closed his eyes in an attempt to do so, but was cursed with consciousness.
The car came to a halt, Nick heard a car door open and slam. Silence followed for a few minutes, until he heard soft knocks above him, a flood of light followed. Still daylight. In his dread-filled train of thought, he didn’t bother keeping track of how long the drive was.
“Hmm, guess you really are scared of the dark,” mock concern laced in her voice. Her eyes narrowed, staring at his trembling hands, the mess on his shirt. “Or...something else?”
He was unsure if he was successful in throwing daggers at her through his eyes.
“Now, let’s go clean up this mess you’ve made.”
A smile curled up her lips, she grabbed at his arms, pulling him out of the trunk. She began to drag him, her arms lifting him under his armpits. He was able to see the street, it seemed like a suburban area. No cars in the street, nor in the driveways across from them.
Hope shot through his veins, as a jogger slowed down in front of the house. His body was nearly dropped as Veronica removed one arm to wave at the jogger.
Help!
He tried to say something, but his vocal chords still wouldn’t work. A few gurgles, raspy breaths was all that escaped his lips.
“Too much to drink last night!” Veronica called out, her voice booming over everything. To Nick’s dismay, the jogger smiled and nodded sympathetically.
No...Help!
The jogger resumed their pace, and left Nick’s field of view. Veronica continued to move towards the house, into the garage.
Before they entered the house, Nick got his wish, he got to see another bird… it was motionless, sprawled out on the pavement of the driveway. Dead.
The house was dark, void of light save for the natural light of a few open windows. Nick was dragged through the narrow hallway, there seemed to be three doors on each side of the hallway, no stairways apparent. An odd layout for a house, but fitting for what he presumed was more of a torture dungeon than a house, anyway.
She brought him into a room that appeared to be some sort of living room, a few bookcases, a fireplace, a coffee table and a couch. There was a television above the fireplace, and also a small stereo to the right of the fireplace. To the left was one single window, with the blinds nearly shut--there was only enough light for him to identify objects in the room, but he couldn’t see any fine details.
She dropped him at the foot of the couch, moved the coffee table out of her way. Nick’s breathing had not yet steadied itself, he could see his body twitch, and wondered if he was heading towards another seizure.
Veronica picked him up and placed him on the couch, his head leaning backward against the top, his arms laid out at his sides.
“You stay right there, I’m going to get something to wash that pretty face,” Veronica purred.
She left the room, and Nick tried and failed to will his body into movement. He wondered how many hours it had been since he was first dosed, the longer it was, the more chance of surviving the toxin he had. At some point, the drug had to wear off, if it didn’t kill him first.
Veronica entered the room silently, sending Nick’s body though another startled state as she popped back in front of him, a washcloth in hand, and camera in other.
“Almost forgot…”
Click. Flash.
Without saying another word, she smeared the washcloth over Nick’s mouth. She held it in place for a few seconds, a dangerous look in her eyes, waiting for signs of a struggle for breath, before she moved it down his chin...and his neck.
“There, now let’s get that shirt off…”
She took Nick’s knife out of his vest, held it in front of his eyes. She touched it to his chin, drawing a thin line down his neck, before applying more pressure to cut through the fabric of his shirt. She cut it in half, stopped right before his pants. She removed the shirt completely, her eyes seemed to widen in some gleeful joy, as if she were unwrapping a Christmas present.
“What’s this?”
She enunciated her words by pointing the tip of her knife into the two scars he received from the restaurant shooting.
“My, my, what happened here, Nicky?”
She licked her lips, moved her body closer. She dug the tip of the knife into one scar, and drew the knife across his skin to the other.
“In connecting the dots, I figure...you’ve been shot?”
At the awkward angle his head was positioned, he could just see the blood trickle down from his two scars, and from the line she cut between them. But he couldn’t feel it.
Yet.
Click. Flash.
She tossed the knife aside, moved her fingers towards his chest, smearing the blood all over. Her other hand removed the camera from around her neck, she started to take off the vest.
You have a washcloth right there, you stupid bitch. He bitterly thought, though he had a feeling she was well aware of that fact.
Another buzz from his pocket distracted Veronica from...whatever the hell she was doing to him. She removed the phone from his pocket, checking the message. She cocked her head at him.
“Oh dear, a gal named Sara is getting worried now, too. Don’t tell me that’s your girlfriend, do I need to be jealous?”
She leaned in closer, towards his ear.
“Because you’re mine.”
Nick gulped as she giggled, leaning back away from him and texting something on his phone in response. She threw the phone onto the couch, near the knife. If he could use his arm, it was just within arm’s reach
“What else do you have in these pockets?” She wondered out loud. She dug through his other pockets, removing his wallet and keys. She took the money from his wallet, just because she could. She jangled the keys in front of his face.
“That reminds me...I have a few more errands to run, so I’m afraid I have to cut playtime short for now.”
Veronica stood up, tall over Nick, who was still slumped on the couch, still unable to move. She walked around the couch, Nick thought she had left the room, but she soon appeared again, upside down, in front of his face.
“Don’t move,” she told him in a suddenly serious, commanding tone.
She poked his nose playfully, and left the room.
-------------------------------
Something wasn’t right.
After receiving the text that “something came up,” Greg had replied back with “is everything okay?”
He never got a response.
Nick wasn’t one to not at least reply with an “I’ll explain later” or something to indicate that everything was in fact, okay. And if it wasn’t, he would have heard about it by now, right?
He didn’t want to freak anyone out yet, more than he was already freaking out at the possibility that something terrible had happened to Nick, again. So he texted Sara.
Hey, have you heard from Nick?
Her response wasn’t a help at all.
No, why?
In that moment, he realized that he should have texted Catherine instead. She was the supervisor, after all, so if Nick had to step out for a family emergency or something, she’d be the first to know.
Maybe it was because they all shared an office together, the three of them. Maybe it was because Nick was being more open with them, about what was going on in not just his work, but his personal life. It had shocked Greg the most, for Nick to become so...open with them, even after all their years together, Nick had always tried to maintain some distance between his work and personal life.
A flashback to nine years ago, when Nick had taken Greg by the shoulder, telling him to stop invading his privacy, told Greg that he should just leave it. Maybe Nick had a bad day, a bad case, and felt like he wasn’t good company. Wouldn’t be the first time--he bailed on Greg on his own birthday two years back, after working a case that drove him to tears.
Then again, that hadn’t stopped Greg from making an effort to extend his hand anyway.
I’m sure it’s nothing, he just bailed on breakfast this morning. It happens.
He sighed, hoping that would appease Sara’s mind though something still didn’t sit right with his. He tossed his phone aside, closed his eyes, an effort to fall asleep.
He was just starting to drift off into a dream of being back in the lab, of a tearful Nick walking away, echoing previous words that had been said to him, when he heard his phone ring. He barely had time to register the caller ID before he answered immediately.
“Nick?"
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gaycrouton · 5 years
Text
Massage
Words of Lust 13/27 [ Scully's feeling a little tense and Mulder just wants to help.]
Massage: (noun) the act or art of treating the body by rubbing, kneading, patting, or the like, to stimulate circulation, increase suppleness, relieve tension, etc.
Ten. Ten autopsies in one day. He wasn’t sure what the record was, but he knew Scully was damn near it. He had overheard scattered corners in the hall talking about “the talented FBI gal,” and he heard enough to know Scully hadn’t had a break, or any help, all day. Ten bodies were found, preserved with an unidentifiable substance, and he knew Scully never liked working with other people on cases where she would just have to listen to them marvel at the mystery of the unexplainable. It distracted her. By the time he had come back from scavenging the forest with the local police department, it was six in the evening, and she was practically dead on her feet. When he found her in the morgue, she was sitting on a rolling stool with her arms crossed on a desk in front of her, her head resting on top of them like a pillow.
“Hey Scully, ready to go?” he asked as he walked up to her hunched form. He was puzzled by her lack of response until he got close enough to her to notice she was fast asleep. He squatted down so he was face to face with her and he couldn’t repress a smile from the sight. Her eyes were closed and her full lips were slightly parted. A tendril of hair hung loosely in front of her face and each breath sent the strand fluttering away from her face. To top it all off, the tiniest line of drool was leaking from her open mouth and pooling on her arm. It was painfully adorable.
He tentatively raised his hand and ran the back of his index finger along her delicate cheekbone, relishing the feel of her smooth skin. Scully let out a soft “mmm” and shifted a little, but didn’t wake up.  Being a little bolder, he placed the palm of his hand against the side of her head and started running the pad of his thumb across her cheek, gently murmuring her name.
His heart leapt in his chest when her lips twitched into a contented smile and she nuzzled into her arms to get more comfortable. If he hadn’t been so close, he would have thought he imagined it, but he saw her lips move softly and heard “Mulder” in a sleep ridden whisper. His attempts to wake her seemed to be just putting her to sleep furthur, so, with his free hand, he gently grabbed one of her hands and squeezed it lightly while saying her name a bit louder.
With the small smile still on her face, her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him with a glossy stare, trying to focus her eyes. “Good morning sleepy head,” he teased. The sound of his voice helped her get her bearings, and her sated smile quickly morphed into shy embarrassment. She sat up and swiftly ran the back of her hand against her mouth, erasing the light drool that had been there. He had removed his hands when she started to sit up and was now just playing with his hands idly in between his bent knees, the sensation of her skin still burning his fingertips.
Her eyes scanned lazily around the room as she remembered where she was. She turned to him and cleared her voice before asking, “Did you find anything in the forest?”
He found himself getting distracted by the sight of her trying to wipe the sleep out of her eyes and took a moment before answering, “Afraid not, I was actually dropping by to pick you up and go back to the motel. We’ve both had a long day.”
“Tell me about it,” she mumbled as she got her jacket and followed him out. The drive home was filled with idle chatter as she slouched in the passenger seat with closed eyes. He made a quick stop to get Chinese take-out, knowing her order from years of experience, and they were back at the motel soon thereafter.
In normal routine, they were going to spend the evening typing up field reports in his room while eating and watching tv. “I’m going to change into my pyjamas, I’ll be over in a second,” she told him as she got out of the car and unlocked the door to her room.
He set the chinese on the queen bed, turned the TV on to the Sci Fi channel, and changed into his own pyjamas, which consisted of long, loose running shorts and a plain white t-shirt. As soon as he was pulling the shirt over his head, he heard the adjoining door open and a small gasp from Scully. He pulled the shirt all the way down and was met with a wide eyed Scully looking at everything except him. “I’m sorry, I should have knocked first.”
“Trying to take advantage of me and compromise my modesty, how devious of you, Scully,” he teased, making her roll her eyes as she walked towards the bed. She had truly only seen his chest and abdomen, maybe a bit of his hip bones, but it thrilled him to know he could fluster her just from that bit of exposed skin.
Okay, so the normal routine was actually Scully being the only one working on field reports while he sat against the headboard, laptop in front of him, watching her work. Tonight was no different. They had both finished their food sometime ago, and now he was flush against the grain of the headboard as she was parallel to him, laying on her stomach, typing on her keyboard, a rerun of Star Trek faintly playing in the background.
His eyes raked over her form appreciatively. Scully wasn’t the type to be verbal with her feelings, so he had to perfect the art of picking up on her subtle cues. Her pyjamas were a prime example of this. For the first year or two of their partnership, barring that first case, in terms of pyjamas she would only let him see her in exclusively; a long sleeved top, long bottoms, slippers, and a tightly closed robe on top of it. Her vulnerability was hidden from him and she was reluctant to show him anything other than Agent Scully.
Flashforward to now, she was laying in front of him wearing just a small t-shirt, which was riding up ever so slightly to reveal a pale sliver of skin, teasing a glimpse of her tattoo, and a pair of cotton short-shorts, which were just barely long enough to not be considered underwear. Her shapely legs were bare and she was idly running one foot against the other, just a comforting thing she would do when she was relaxing. Her posture was the pinnacle of ease and openness. Her outfit and demeanor were just a touching display of her pure trust in him.
He quickly snapped out of his reviere when she started to slid off the bed. “How many field reports did you catch up on?” she asked while tucking her laptop into her bag.
Mulder took a tentative glance down at his laptop’s blank screen and in a hesitant voice replied, “Uhhh.. I got a good start on the first one.”
“Oh really? And without even touching the keyboard once, you’ll have to let me know how you do that,” she teased.
Busted. He let out a self-deprecating laugh and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Well, I pulled up a document, so I did start a little bit, in my defense. This is a really good episode.” She cocked her eyebrow at him and he knew she didn’t buy it, but wasn’t going to press him. She lifted her bag to lay it on the motel table and a grimace passed over her face. “Are you okay?” he asked in concern.
“Yeah, but almost a full day hunched over and working with dead bodies really took a toll on my own.” She cracked her knuckles before she started stretching her arms, each time she did it there was a series of “pops” and “cracks” emanating from her sore joints. She did the same with her legs and it had the same effect. However, she tried to stand up straight, nothing happened, she leaned back and one sole pop occurred, but nothing else. The frown on her face told him that it was not the outcome she was hoping for.
“Do you need help?” he asked, already getting off the bed to move towards her.
“Help how?”
“I can crack your back,” he stated. Her doubtful expression was in full force and instead of explaining himself, he decided to just show her. “Turn around and cross your arms over your chest,” he commanded.
She did what he said and asked over her shoulder, “Like this?”
“Exactly.” He hadn’t done this in a while, let alone on someone so tiny. He stood behind her and bend down a little bit, so that his chest was on her back, before crossing his arms atop of hers, pressing them into her chest. He felt her about to ask what he was doing when he stood up fully, taking her with him. She squealed a little bit and wiggled her feet, which were now about a full foot off the ground.
He tried to ignore the way her hair was tickling his face and how her body felt squirming flush against his own, so he started arching his back and leaning backwards. As he did this, her body reclined with him, and that, and the weight added from gravity, created a series of what felt like twenty cracks along her spine. During the series of pops, she involuntarily let out a moan from the relief and let her head fall back, laying gently on Mulder’s shoulder.
The sound of that moan did more for Mulder than he’d care to admit, and he didn’t want Scully to feel that reaction pressing against her butt, which was pressing sinfully against the front of his pants right now. When he was sure he got all the pops out, he gently put her back down on her feet and quickly stabilized her when she stumbled a bit.
She turned around with a goofy smile and just said, “Wow. I’m impressed.”
“Do you feel better?” he asked, enjoying seeing her so serene.
“Aside from aching muscles, I’m feeling great,” she declared, stretching a little bit and reveling in the new found relief in her back.
“I could help with that,” he offered. He had a girlfriend a few decades ago who was interested in massage therapy and taught him a few things. They only lasted about a week together before he was too weird for her and she broke it off, but he was still pretty good at giving a massage.
The skepticism his last offer was met with wasn’t present in her new response, instead she just looked a little pensive before replying, “I’d appreciate that. Where do you want me?”
His mind immediately went dirty, but he knew he needed to reign that in. He wanted to help, but he knew this was going to be tantalizing and he needed to be as detached as possible. “If you lay on your stomach near the edge of the bed, I’ll sit in a chair and be able to work over you.”
She, yet again, did as he asked and sprawled out on her stomach near the edge of the bed. He brought a rolling chair over and elevated it so that he could hunch over her and have full access to everywhere he needed to reach. He was glad that the television was still on, or else he was positive she’d be able to hear the sound of his heart hammering in his chest. As he pulled up, he looked down at the soft, delicate body laying before him. She looked like an angel.
He decided to go from top to bottom. He placed his fingertips on the crown of her head and started massaging circles into her scalp, utilizing his nails to add an extra sensation. When he first started, he noticed she inhaled a big breath, but as soon as the ministrations started, her breathing evened out. He relished the feeling of her silky strands of hair falling through his fingers, the auburn tresses highlighted by the dim light from the motel lamp.
He massaged down her scalp, behind her ears, and on the nape of her neck before he began utilizing his whole hands versus just his fingers. He put one hand on either side of her neck which blended into her shoulder and started applying more weight. Scully wasn’t wrong, he could feel how tense and hard her muscles were. He spent a good amount of time using the balls of his hands to massage away her tension, using the pads of his thumb to massage her spine. When he got to the lower part of her upper back, he split off and started focusing on one side at a time. He started at her shoulder blade farthest away from him and gently moved his hands around it. He hadn’t realized it until this moment, but with the sensation of her thin shirt moving against her bare skin, he realized that she hadn’t been wearing a bra.
He delicately traced his hand in a line of where her bra strap would have been before moving onto her arm. Leaning over her like this made him really realize how tiny she was, he grabbed her biceps with both of his hands and he could almost wrap his fingers around her arm. He just worked his way down her arm, squeezing and caressing until he got to her hand, figuring they had a workout today, he spent extra time rubbing circles into her palm and working on her fingers, from base to tip. When he was done, he repeated the process on her other side. This time when he got to her hand, he felt her subconsciously twitch, as if her hand was trying to hold onto his.
When he was done, he returned to his place in the middle of her back, continuing to work his way down. His thumbs worked her spine, the palms of his hands kneaded the muscles of her back, and his fingers rubbed along her sides. When he got all the way down to her tattoo, he took a moment to appreciate it, and let her feel where his eyes were. His thumbs met at the top of the ouroboros and they rubbed along the circle until they met back together at the bottom. He saw, as much as he felt, her breath hitch, but she didn’t move to stop him.
The tension was near palpable in the air as he reached the top of her tailbone, he could practically feel her curiosity burning his fingers. As much as he wanted to, fully palming Scully’s ass was probably not the best idea. So, he teasingly ran his fingers over the dangerous line of back-meets-butt until he was safe at her hips, massaging down until he was in the safe zone of her legs. When he had asked her to lay down, she kind of just face planted like a log, arms at sides, legs together. As he massaged she loosened up, so her top half was a haphazard sprawl of limbs, but her feet were still together. See the note about ass grabbing and also apply that to the concept of shoving his hand between her thighs.
As he had predicted earlier, he was sporting a slight hard on from feeling her soft flesh under his palms, and her lying on a bed so accepting of his touch. He bent over a little bit, so if she turned to look at his she wouldn’t see it, and cleared his throat of any lingering arousal, “Um, Scully. Could you spread your legs a little for me?” Wow, smooth.
He waited with a heavy breath for her to call him a pervert and storm out, but instead, she simply spread her legs as asked. He let out the breath softly and repressed a smile at the development. She was displaying a whole new level of trust with him and he didn't want to do anything that would make her regret that. He worked on her legs in the same way that he had with her arms, one hand on either side of her leg, making his way down. Except, he started a little farther down, below the hem of her shorts, as to avoid touching any of the intimate areas he was only acquainted with in his dreams. Regardless of where he started, he couldn’t help but revel in the fact he was palming Dana Scully’s inner thighs. The same thighs he spent countless nights imagining on either side of his head or wrapped around his waist or quivering from- too much, too much.
He wanted to slap himself for packing running shorts and just wished for her to remain face down in the bed because there would be no way he could hide his erection tenting in his pants. He worked on the other inner thigh before going past the knee, just so he wouldn’t have to go through that again. When he was finished, he resumed rubbing down her calves and feet one at a time. When he was on the tiny toe of her last foot, he felt himself not ready to give this up yet. Physical contact between them wasn’t necessarily rare, per se, but never had it been this intimate and for this long of a duration.
In a moment of surprising boldness, he moved the chair so he was back near her head and he gently commanded, “Roll onto your back.” He hunched over once more so as she transitioned from her stomach to back, she wouldn’t accidentally catch sight of the front of his pants. Within a few moments, she was on her back with her limbs sprawled openly beside her.
He had to take a moment to build his confidence, but he moved his fingertips up to her hairline and started brushing her hair back. She was so peaceful and still that, had he not been able to see her eyelids fluttering under her eyelids, he would have assumed she had fallen asleep. He couldn’t remember a time where he had been so gentle and through with a task. His hands were practically ghosting on her skin. After touching the length of her hairline, he moved to her temples, gently rubbing circles with the pads of his thumbs along the pressure points. He couldn’t remember what the specific name was, the sight in front of him was more than slightly distracting, but she looked like a model from an old painting, Like an angel on the Sistine Chapel.
He continued his exploration of her face by running his index fingers over her brow bone and  going down the slope of her nose. He never expected she would allow him to do this, and was happy to see this was actually relaxing her. He ran the backs of his fingers along her strong jawline before running them up her smooth cheeks. There was one last place on her face for him to explore and this would really make or break the tranquility of the moment. With one tentative hand he placed his palm against her cheek, so that he was cupping it, and started moving the pad of his thumb to outline her lips.
Her lips were the first thing he had noticed about her all those years ago. “Agent Mulder, My name’s Dana Scully. I’ve been assigned to work with you.” She had on a reddish coral lipstick and it suited her beautifully. He had spent years watching those lips. As she talked, as she ate, as she breathed, they were mesmerizing. Now they were under his touch, and they were fuller and softer than any fantasy could have imagined. He traced the outline first, then ran the digit over her top, then bottom lip, relishing the slight tug from the friction of the contact.
He almost jumped out of his seat when he felt her lips press against his thumb in a kiss. His eyes darted up to look at her eyes, only to see that they were hooded, and watching him intently. He had been so focused on his own ministrations, that he had no idea how long she had been watching him. While he was making eye contact with her, he felt her lips part and her tongue dart out to lick the pad of his thumb, then gently suck on the surface.
Now it was his turn to have his breath hitch. His eyes kept darting back and forth between her sensual gaze and the sight of her mouth working the tip of his thumb. Her lips were coated with saliva and she placed one last kiss to his thumb before whispering in a husky voice, “Keep going.”
Holy fucking shit.
He drug the saliva coated thumb down her chin and along the expanse of her exposed, creamy white throat. She tilted her head back to give him better access, and in a moment of intuition, he blew a stream of cold air to her throat and watched her eyes close and goosebumps spread across her skin. He took a few moments to massage her clavicle, which had been hidden in her previous position. He still didn’t know how far she wanted this to go, so using only one hand and two fingers, he rubbed his way down her sternum, in between the valley of her parted breast, taking great caution to avoid touching either mound. He didn’t know if he was hearing things, but he could have sworn he heard a sigh of frustration when he got passed her chest and was in the safety of her rib area. He added his other hand back in and used the palms of his hands to rub down both her sides and abdomen, stopping at her hip bones, which he circles tauntingly.
He didn’t know where to go from here and he felt like an awkward teenage boy again. He already got all of her legs, he didn’t know if it would be creepy if he went back to an area already covered, and he wasn’t going to touch her in the areas left undiscovered until he got her explicit permission. Oh yeah, and his cock was still rock hard so he didn’t quite feel like calling it quits right now. He glanced back up and gulped when he saw she was still staring at him, that mysterious look still behind her heavy lids.
“You’ve been missing some major areas. If you need to take off my clothes to get to them, you’re more than welcome to,” her words were coy but her tone was beyond suggestive. She had made his choice for him and he was more than willing to oblige the request. His hands, which were still moving on her hip bones, slid up so his fingers crept under the hem of her shirt. In one of the most arousing gestures he had ever seen, she arched her back so it came off the bed, which allowed him to slide her shirt up and over her head. As soon as they were revealed, his eyes were glued to her breasts. He licked his lips unconsciously and he instantly recognized she laughed lightly at the gesture.
He looked in her eyes one more time for permission, still not believing this could possibly be true, and she gifted him with a coquettish smile. That’s all he needed before raising his hands and cupping her breasts in his hands. They were ample and firm, and everything he had dreamt of. As soon as he made contact, her eyes fluttered shut. He started experimenting with her as if he was playing an instrument, a pinch of a nipple made her bite her lip, a blow of air made her gasp, a firm squeeze made her eyes flutter, cause and react in full effect.
After a few moments, when her gasps started to become more audible, he decided to continue exploring. He snaked his hand down her smooth stomach until he reached the hem of her shorts. In an opposite arch to before, she lifted her hips up and helped him slide her shorts down her creamy legs. She had only been wearing shorts and his erection appreciated that heartily. When she lowered her hips back down and let her legs sprawl out, he got to fully appreciate the sight in front of him. Dana Scully was lying naked and wanton on his bed right now and if he died right now, he would die the happiest man in the entire world. His hand continued downward and it quickly started raking through her soft auburn curls. He knew she was a real redhead, but having the evidence right in front of him made him inexplicably happy.
Moving one final inch, he parted her fold and was immediately met with what would become the biggest source of pride in his life. Scully was soaking, correction dripping wet, and it was all because of him. He was almost shocked when he felt it, but it just fueled his desire more. Using one digit, he swirled his finger around her aching bud and relished in the sound of her hearty moan. It was his turn to watch her, and he was pleased to see her head lolling back and forth as her hips gyrated against his hand. After a moment or two, he felt her dainty hand reach down to grab his wrist.
He was initially afraid she might have regretted it, that she was going to say this had gone too far, but all fear was replaced with unrepentant arousal when she throatily groaned, “Let me make you feel good too. Join me.” After the words left her mouth, she moved so she was on the bed on her knees in front of him, pulling him into a standing position in front of her.
He was mesmerized by her poweress in this moment, he could see her arousal coating the insides of her thighs, but she was still so in control of her actions. She quickly grabbed the hem of his shirt and he was all too ready to help throw it over his head. With another fell swoop, she shoved his shorts to the floor and took in the sight of his exposed erection with greedy eyes. She leaned back so she was on her butt with her legs wide open as she grabbed his arms and pulled him on top of herself, her enthusiasm earning a hearty chuckle from both parties.
Laying on top of her like this was pure bliss, the complete skin-to-skin contact of their bodies was almost too much to take. He looked down at her and was speechless at the woman laying underneath him. Her eyes were filled with mirth and longing and he was so overcome with emotion that he closed the distance and pressed a searing kiss to her lips. His heart leapt once more when he felt her return the kiss with equal vigor, opening her mouth so their tongues could play with each other. He felt like he may never sleep again, what was the point of trying to dream when reality could provide such perfect moments like this?
She pulled back for air with a laugh and his lips quickly sought to keep their connection in a different area, landing squarely on the pulse point of her neck. He moaned deeply against her flesh when he felt her hand snake in between them and take his length into her grasp. She stroked his tip along her folds, coating his length in her arousal to lubricate him before easing him into her. She moved her hand away and wrapped her arms around his neck, tandemly wrapping her legs around his waist, beckoning him to continue.
He kissed her on the lips one final time before plunging into her. Their moans were in perfect harmony and they quickly found their pace as they started thrusting against each other. Their were many moments in their partnership that contributed to him considering them to be a perfect match, but none compared to this. She felt like home, her smell, the feel of her body against his own, the music of her moans, everything made him want to live in this moment forever.
They had been going at it for maybe a minute or two when he felt her freeze. He was about to ask her what was wrong until he felt her vaginal walls clamp painfully tight against him and she cried out his name in a breathy whisper. He thrusted in deeper, grinding his pubic bone against hers to prolong her orgasm and he could swear he felt her heartbeat in his cock. She released her grip on his neck and fell back onto the bed, bucking against him in spasms, her eyes fluttering and her lips curled into a sweet smile. He just made Scully’s eyes roll from a powerful orgasm. This was undoubtedly the best day of his entire life.
He looked down at her with a proud smile, trying to commit the image of her underneath him naked and sated to his memory forever. She returned his smile with a shy one of her own and melodically laughed, “Usually I last longer, you just did such a fantastic, through job before.” It had to be impossible to love someone this much.
“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that. Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispered. She blushed and averted her gaze in shy embarrassment and it made his heart hurt. This woman was practically Aphrodite reincarnated and he didn’t like the idea of any self-doubts or insecurities making her question her beauty and skill.
“Scully,” he prompted, waiting until her eyes flitted back to him to continue, “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and probably the smartest person I’ve ever met. I adore you and I love you.” She was openly smiling and beaming up at him and he could have cried from the unyielding trust that was in her gaze.
She snaked a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down so she could kiss him sweetly. When they parted, she looked up at him and whispered, “I love you too, but we’re not done yet.” To emphasize her point she thrusted against him again, re-sheathing his arousal deep into her head. His moan reverberated around the room and he started thrusting into her continually, fascinated but the sight of her panting mouth and her breasts bouncing up and down on her chest.
Watching Scully cum was like a drug, he had seen and experienced it once, and he would be chasing that high for the rest of his life. He just wanted her to be encapsulated with pleasure and he wanted to be the cause of it. He put his hand at the apex of her thighs and found her swollen clit, playing with pinching it and rubbing it. From the sounds coming out of her mouth, she was more than appreciative. After a few moments, probably since she was already sensitive from her last orgasm, another came rippling through her body, clenching around him like a vice, this time taking him with her over the edge. They stayed joined for a while afterwards, relishing in the sensation of each other’s pleasure.
“To repeat your eloquent sentiments from earlier; wow” he teased, breaking the silence.
She laughed heartily at this and rolled onto her side, into her arms, “I stand by that, and I’m still impressed,” she cooed, pressing a kiss to his temple.
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notwiththoseteeth · 5 years
Text
Hold Me • John Deacon x Reader
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So a side note, I might make this into a series, but don’t be surprised if I drop it straight away. (I’m a shy writer) I’ve also suddenly found this really strong connection with John. Also, there aren’t much Deacy fanfics I could find, so I just decided to make my own. (Might make a playlist for this if y’all want one)
Warnings: Swearing, slight mentions of smut, cringe
Word Count: 2.4k
The sunlight washed over your face. It was six in the morning, and life was feeling different. Something was going to change today, but you couldn’t manage what was going to be different. It was too early in the morning to think about such things, instead you turned to lie on your shoulder, facing the man of your dreams. Clive Morlovo. 
You met him in your last year of University. It was another breakup, and you were sitting on a bench crying in the rain. He held an umbrella to your head and from then on your relationship blossomed into that of a nearly perfect one.
“Look at that sunrise...” he whispered, although he wasn’t looking at the horizon. He stared deep into your eyes.
“It’s beautiful don’t you think?” Smiling back at Clive.
“I never thought you to be the narcissistic type.”
It was because of his work that he couldn’t spend time with you as much. 
You giggled at his flirty comment and you two embraced each other in silence. It used to be like this. And it was the first time in a while since this happened. Clive was always at busy at work, and his dickhead of a boss always put extra hours for him, or made him finish off at night. Which was a strange thing, because who the hell leaves their co-worker alone by himself at night? Nevertheless, you wouldn’t question it, because you appreciated Clive coming home to you even if he was tired and stressed. 
“You smell different...” you sniffed, taking in the scent of...Dior perfume? “I never new you had a taste for my perfume...why didn’t tell me? I would’ve bought us both a set.” 
He hesitated. You could feel the tension, and you didn’t want to believe what your thoughts. “Clive...how-how could you...?” 
“(Y/N) it’s not what you think.” 
“Not what I--not what I think?” You’d left the bed by now, disgusted at everything. “All those times--you’d faked it all! I didn’t want to believe it! I thought you were committed to this relationship! You threw it right out of the window!” water spilled from your eyes, sprinkling your sheets, clothes and face. 
“Stop crying, you’re face doesn’t look pretty like that. Look--”
“Get out.”
“Excuse me?” 
“GET OUT! I SAID GET OUT RIGHT NOW!” grabbing a few books, you threw it at him, you vision blurred, but still managing to hit him hard on the back. 
“I OWN THIS FUCKING HOUSE!” 
“NOT ANYMORE BASTARD! I PAID FOR EVERYTHING. I OWN IT NOW.” you laughed, “sorry, let me rephrase...John, owns it now.” 
“John? You let that son of a bitch buy the house?!”
“Yeah I fucking did. And if you don’t get out right now, I’ll kill you!” seeing the pocket knife that was sitting on top of your dresser, pointing it at Clive.  “I SAID GET OUT!”
Rushing to actually stab him, Clive fled out in fear, and you finally saw that hideous creature inside of him. You couldn’t feel anymore. Your heart wasn’t heavy because you didn’t have one. Climbing back into the house, you jumped at all of his things. Clothes, bags, books, photos--God, the photos. They were the hardest to even look at, because you knew that those smiles were fake. You couldn’t hold your anger in, so you threw the frame against the window. 
Well, you were going to. You stopped dead in your tracks when a small voice called out. 
“(Y/N)?”
Turning around, you were met with cozy brown eyes and fuzzy hair.
John fucking Deacon. 
Of all people, it had to be him. 
But his eyes showed you that he cared about you. A warm entrance to comfort.
Tears were still streaming down our face, red circles covered your eyes, nose and most of your face. A disaster really. Breaking down was the worst thing to do in front of him, but you couldn’t help it. Dropping the frame and letting it shatter was the most relief you’d ever felt. Collapsing into John’s arms you sunk into him.
“What’s wrong love? Why’s the house a mess? Most importantly, why are you crying?”
“That son of a bitch Clive was just going off to blowjobs at night.”
“(Y/N) I—“
“Don’t even bother,” you say. “I know what you’re going to say, “I told--”
“I’m not going to say that.”
“What?”
“You know exactly what I just said. You’ve known me for a year. I think that’s enough for you to see through me.” 
“I’m tired Deacy. I wanna be anywhere just so long as it’s not here.” you exclaimed, sniffling the last of your tears.
“Well, I’ll go get the car ready. If you need to grab anything, I’ll be waiting inside.”
He turned around to the door, grasping the knob, but you stopped him once he opened the door. 
“Hey John,” you muttered.
“Yeah?” he answered, turning to face you and raising his eyebrows.
“Thanks.”
“For what? I’m just being a friend.”
                                                           …
“I miss times like this.” you sigh, lying down next to Deacy in the grassy plains. 
“Brian told me about this place. Apparently you could see most of the constellations up here.” 
“You’ve got such lovely friends.” 
“You’re the loveliest of them all dear.” 
You blushed at his flirty comment. You didn’t think much of it though, since it was just another thing you did with Deacy. You’d flirt with him, and he’d flirt with you. You lay there inhaling the scent of peppermint and water, and the small breeze tapped your nose causing it to light up pink. 
Tilting your head to the side to look at John, you smiled. You had never met anyone quite like him...but you suddenly remembered something. 
“I forgot to ask you...” 
“Hmm?” also moving his head to the side to meet your nose. 
“Why did you come to the house? There must’ve been a reason.”
“I can’t tell you until you remember.” he smirked.
“Oh come on! I’m having a crap day. The least you can do is tell me.”
“You really don’t remember do you?” 
“No!”
“(Y/N)...today’s your birthday, how could you forget? The band and I planned a whole party. That’s why I came to pick you up, but it seemed from the wreckage that you weren’t it the mood for a party.” 
“Oh God...you guys did that all for me? Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve gone whatever the situation may be.” flinging you arms around and pouting. He chuckled at your reaction.
“You wouldn’t enjoy it.” he stated.
“Yes I wou--”
“All that work would be for nothing if you didn’t enjoy it. We appreciate you coming, but people love to see your appreciation through smiles and laughs. I speak from experience.” 
“You grandpa.” he snickered. 
Looking back up at the stars, your emotions swirl in your broken heart. Sinking into the stars, you explore. Your imagination runs with the sparkling lights. The constellations dance around you, and the moon orbits you as if it were your pet. 
Meanwhile at Freddie’s place...
“They’re shagging.” 
“Roger shut up, you’re assuming too much. It’s obvious he kidnapped her! I always knew that Deacy fancied her, but I didn’t think he’d go this far as to take her...” Freddie exclaimed.
“Now look who’s talking!”
“At least mine’s more realistic.”
“Please define the word realistic.”
“Fuck you.” 
“Stop rambling you two! They’re either shagging, or something’s happened to (Y/N). All I know is that we can trust John with whatever the hell’s happening.” 
“Damn it, now I’m gonna have to pay up. To think he’d be the one to shag her first.”
“You made a bet on this?!”
“I mean, in my mind I did...” 
“Rog, please just...”
                                                          …
N i g h t    T r a n s i t i o n
“It’s starting to get cold. We should head back to my place.” The air was dropping. John could feel it. So being the gentleman he was, he put your feelings first, wanting for you not to get sick.
“Oh, sure!” you replied, grabbing the cardigan that draped sloppily across your waist, and joining John inside the car that was heated up at the right temperature. 
“Here, a blanket if it gets a little bit frosty.”
“I could fall asleep right here, it’s so comfy...” you mumbled.
“Go ahead, it is your birthday.”
“Ah, thank you...” you rolled into a small ball, and slowly shut your eyes. Today- your birthday- was just as you predicted. It would be different. But it wasn’t the different you’d hoped for. You broke up with the man who you thought finally understood you. You didn’t attend the party that your best friends had planned for you, and instead lounged around with Deacy. It was the feeling that you hated the most. Guilt. 
It was always John who helped you get through the points in your life where you were stuck underneath the water. Drowning. 
But John was there breaking the ice piece by piece, and saving you. And the worst part was that you couldn’t do anything about it.
“How’s it like for you Deakster?” 
“Sorry?”
“Your breakups. What were they like for you?”
“I’ve only ever met one woman in my life. Though, she’s broken my heart countless times.”
“She sounds like a real bitch. Stay away from her.”
He scoffed. “That’s a hard thing to do. Everyday I’m dragged to her. It’s that something about her. I don’t know either, I’m still figuring it out. Maybe her eyes or hair...her nose...”
“What an unlucky gal. She missed out on something big.” you exaggerated. 
“Well, we’ve never actually been in a relationship before. She just always meets new men before I get the chance to even ask her out. And then, when her heart gets broken, I’m the shoulder to lean on. I’m happy that I can at least be there for her.” 
A silence broke down between the both of you. 
Your mind was racing. Deacy was going through some serious stuff too. But he’s being loved. He’s being loved by everyone around him, while you’re there with a family who doesn’t even know you exist. The new family you’ve made is slowly crumbling too. 
Because of your absent heart, everything would easily escape.
 And that’s what happened with your feelings.
“John,” you wept. “It isn’t fair! I want to love. I want to be loved. I just want someone to hold me and tell me that they love me with all their heart, and I want that person— no matter what they think of themselves to be open with me. To just see me differently from what the normal eye can see…” This was agony. To be spewing out your innermost desires to someone you’d only known for a little over a year was being overly trustworthy. But your heart needed someone to talk to, and Deacy was just always by your side.
He halted the car, taking in a breath of confidence. 
“(Y/N)…” he held you close. Embracing you into his arms, resting his chin atop your head, not minding the hot tears that now stained his shirt. “I wish I could tell you who loved you. I wish I could tell you that everything is going to be okay, because that somebody will never leave your side or hurt you in any way.” He couldn’t. He couldn’t bring you into the spotlight. He knew how much your heart would break if people kept an eye on everything you two did. They were already doing it. He just wanted you to live normally. But that meant that he was out of the picture.
He too, was now crying. Your sobs mixed with the silent sniffles from John. Your hair was sticky with John’s small tears spreading through it. And now you two were just standing in one another’s arms taking in what could’ve been. Well what could’ve been if you’d seen the way he looked at you. What could’ve been if John would just man up and listen to his heart. But you would only remain friends.
“Um…” you sniffled, “I’m really sorry about your …shirt…” you two chuckled at it. Two large wet circles covered Deacy’s nipples. (It was quite the sight actually) “And I’m sorry about your hair too…” You looked up. It was a sticky mess, strings of it were everywhere, much like Deacy’s hair. “Ha! Don’t worry about it.” You said, while straightening it out a bit.
He couldn’t help it, but he just stared a second longer than he should’ve. You noticed his eyes lingering on you. Not from questioning his friendship with you, but from questioning if you were really going to remain friends. You too, softened your eyes at him.
“Deacy… I think-“
“Don’t say anything.” He huskily whispered , brushing his nose against you. He inches closer, his hand resting on your cheek, and his lips sweeping over yours. Finally, they touched, the sweet feeling that had been missing from your lips was now replaced with another man’s wet mouth. You pulled back, but closed the gap again. His soft lips pushing against yours gave you a feeling you’d never thought about. You wanted to continue this blissful euphoria, but Deacy retreated. 
“I can’t do this.”
You were shocked. In those few seconds, he was dominating you with just his mouth. Now, he was going back a few steps and leaving an empty space. 
“Why?” You said, voice cracking. You thought you’d finally found someone who would love you, but he was just the same. 
“I’m a good man (Y/N), I know that. But I’m not a good lover. You’ll regret ever having feelings towards me.”
“I never said you could tell me what you are.” whispering very quietly but enough for him to hear. Your hand slowly moved up to grasp his cheeks, pulling him in for a heated kiss. 
“(Y/N), you’ll regret this...”
“In the future Deacy, but now, I want to feel you with all my being.”
“God the things you do to me woman...”
                                                            …
SINFUL LOVE MAKING TIME
“Deacy...” you moaned, as he kissed down your collarbone and slowly removing your top. 
Trying to have sex in the car was hard. He’d already crawled over to your side, and you leaned the seat back all the way down. 
His kisses were trailing all over your torso--your shoulders, neck, collarbone and stomach. Taking your hand, he pecks it sweetly, then eventually he reaches behind you to un-clip your bra. Your breasts bounced at the released pressure, and he caressed them by placing his soft hands over them. 
CONTINUED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!
TAGLIST
wanna be added? Just ask!
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alleiradayne · 5 years
Text
SPN MinnCon Day 3
You know what, I’m pulling the I-just-gave-birth-to-a-tiny-helpless-human card. That’s why I didn’t get back to this sooner. Also my mom and aunt were in town helping out a ton but it also kept me away from Tumblr most days.
So. MinnCon Day 3. This day was the day for me. I had been looking forward to the whole weekend for months. But truly, this day was something that I had been freaking out about for about two weeks for two reasons. 1.) Jared Photo Op. 2) Jared 30 Minute Meet and Greet.
I’ll preface this with the fact that I am a dyed-in-the-wool Jared/Sam stan. I cannot get enough of him and his smile and his sense of humor and his hair and his compassion and his empathy and his brain and his eyes. Okay, yeah, I love the 6′4″ mansuit he inhabits, too.
When you read this, you’re going to see a lot of Jared. A decent bit of Jensen, too (I took a lot of pictures of him). But I’ll be writing a lot more about Jared. Except for the meet and greets. Which... ugh, I wish I could tell you guys about his 30 minute meet and greet as well as his 10 minute for VIP. But I can’t. :(
Buckle up bitches, this shits long...
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It was the first picture I took.
The day started out with the Gold Panel. If you haven’t seen it yet, my fellow VIP’er, Sue, gave Jared a thing of cupcakes when he called on her for a question and she didn’t have one ready. So she asked him if he wanted a cupcake. There’s rules about giving them food; I guess they’re not supposed to take it, but Jared was like, “Uh shit yeah I want a cupcake.”
He was only supposed to take one for each of them. But I don’t think he could hear her very well. So he took the whole thing. I was supposed to eat one of those fucking cupcakes.
And then:
CUPCAKEPOCALYPSE
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It went on for several minutes. Jared dropped the cupcakes (THAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO EAT) and made a giant mess. A creation staff person came out to help, a fan offered baby wipes, and Jensen had to help clean Jared’s face.
“Help a brother out, man.”
“You are beyond help.”
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Brothers. I swear.
Questions were fun and it was during this panel that I could tell that the day would be distinctly different from previous con’s Sundays. We all know Jared is quite a bit more talkative than Jensen. But today, that would not be the case. Someone put a quarter in Jensen...
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He’s so pretty.
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Again, I’m not sure what someone said (I know I could go watch the video but, time) but Jensen busted out the imaginary popcorn.
And then there were more wonderful pictures of Jared.
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See. Lots of Jared.
If you want to see ALL of the pictures I took (and edited) from the entire weekend:
GO HERE
The flicker album will be available until flickr decides to get rid of free accounts or whatever nonsense Yahoo wants to do with flickr.
After the gold panel I had Jared’s 30 minute meet and greet and his photo op. I was hoping that by waiting to post this, I’d have my .jpg from Chris, but I don’t.  The meet and greet was fantastic. There were 20 people in that session, and we drew numbers for seats. I got number 6 which ended up being right in the middle of the front row. I don’t know how I got so fucking lucky...
I got to ask my very weird question and got a very cogent and incredibly self-aware answer that kind of blew me away. And we even had time to sneak in my follow-up, which also resulted in another ridiculously self-aware response. And he remembered these questions because he later brought the topic up again at the 10 minute VIP.
Now the photo op. I’m pretty sure this interaction tops the entire weekend (just sneaking past his autograph and getting a smooch from Rob Benedict). Remember the fact that I’m 37 weeks pregnant. I had no clue what the hell to do for this photo op. I was wearing my self-made maternity “Love Yourself First” t-shirt, all black, with red/black buffalo plaid. I don’t know if it was entirely obvious that I was pregnant as I walked up to Jared for my op.
The VIP folks with his op got to go first. I opted, out of the four of us with his op, to go last. I walked up as Bang A Gong (Get It On) played, and whenever there is music playing, I cannot help but dance a bit. So my dumbass does my white-girl shimmy up to him and he laughed as he did his own short dance, but then proceeded to damn near do the splits to take the picture. I’m 5′4″. He’s 6′4″. I definitely didn’t want to take a picture with my face at his sternum. He knew that.
But other than that I didn’t know what to do. So I told him that. Here’s the conversation:
“Hey. I really don’t know what to do because she’s in the way,” I said as I pointed at my very-much-in-the-way-pregnant-stomach.
Jared’s eyes popped when he looked and then immediately started rubbing my stomach. Now normally, I would not have been okay with some rando touching my pregnant stomach without asking.
Jared Padalecki is not some rando. And he asked, “How far along are you?”
I laughed as I said, “I’m due in three weeks.”
If I thought his eyes popped before, they damn near fell out of his head at that. He replied, “Holy shit, how the fuck are you on your feet?! That is so badass, I can’t believe you’re here!” He held up his hand for a high-five, which I did, and he grabbed my hand to hold on to it. He then asked me my name. I told him and mentioned I’d been to the con last year with my sister and she was sad she couldn’t make it this year. And he then said, “Jeanna, awesome, I’m so sorry your sister couldn’t be here. But, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” I told him I was great and that I’d been looking forward to this for months even though I’m huge and was really nervous about this photo op.
He then pulled me into him, wrapped his arms around me (like he does for most of his ops) and we took the picture. With his arms still around me, he looked me in the eye and said, “It was wonderful to meet you again. I am so glad you are here and that you’re doing so well. Is this your first?”
“Yup.”
“I am so happy for you, that’s awesome. I remember Gen had the pregnancy glow, you look absolutely stunning, you’re rockin’ it hard. Thank you again for being here. I’ll see you again later in VIP.”
I thanked him and hugged him once more and he kissed the top of my god damn head.
And then I left the photo op room. As I was walking out of the room, a fellow VIP’er was waiting for me and saw me walking out. I think I had the worst dead-eyes face on because she said, “What happened?! Did something go wrong with your op?!”
And I said, “No. It was amazing I’m fucking speechless and don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m forgetting something. I... don’t know what to do all of a sudden.”
“Breathe, honey. You’re forgetting to breathe.”
You’re god damn right I was forgetting to breathe. I mean, this just happened:
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I couldn’t have asked for a better photo.
Moving on...
Next was Mark Pellegrino’s panel which was stellar. I love him.
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Rob came out eventually and was giving Mark the Dad stare. I kinda wish Rob would look at me like that... eh, @atc74?
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And then there was some funny God and His Children interactions.
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Such a stellar cast.
And then there was the Jensen and Jared main panel.
Guys. Gals. There are so many fucking pictures I took. Here’s a random sampling:
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It was an amazing panel. Like I said someone put a quarter in Jensen and he was just on point this year. Compared to other cons and videos I’ve watched, he really came out of his shell at this event and put on an amazing show with Jared. I absolutely recommend watching all the videos from this convention because they are so worth it.
After the main panel was Mark’s, Jensen’s, and Jared’s 10 minute VIP meet and greets. Holy shit were they great. Again, can’t really talk about them, but I got to sit next to Jared and he doesn’t understand personal space. I’ll leave it at that.
The night ended with autographs. I hit up Jared’s first, which in hindsight wish I’d done last but oh well. I hopped in line and when he saw me he said, “Remind me how long you’ve got?” as he reached out and touched my stomach again. I told him it was three weeks out and he smiled and shook his head as he said, “Damn, you are a fucking trooper. Congratulations again. Keep kickin’ ass.” He signed the photo, thanked me, and I thanked him. Right as I stepped away, he said, “You tweet that baby’s picture right away! I wanna see her face!”
I did tweet a picture, but I don’t think he saw it. That’s okay, I didn’t really think he would.
Jensen was next, who I had sign my J2 op from the previous year with my sister. While signing, his mala bead bracelet got stuck on the table cloth. My first thought was to say, “What did you do, Ray?” in my best Winston impression. And Jensen didn’t miss a beat. “I couldn’t help it. It just popped in there...”
Thanks for knowing your Ghostbusters references, Jensen.
Last but not least was Misha. Aside from his 10-min meet and greet, I’d never really interacted with him. There was a short wait for him as he finished up his Castiel photo ops. My VIP liaison and I were waiting together because she had an op for his auto too. And then he arrived, got settled and waved us over. I had him sign the first op my sister and I ever got from 2016 with Misha and Mark Sheppard. Mark had signed it last year.
And Misha remembered from VIP on Saturday that I was pregnant and asked me about it. When I told him it was a girl, he said, “Oh yeah, you’re gonna love it, it’s stupidly fun. Picked a name yet?” and I told him we decided on Elizabeth. His response was, “How cool, my sister’s name is Elizabeth. You have fun with that baby and don’t listen to anyone. Follow your gut. Science, too. But trust yourself. You got this.”
And then we were done. I went back to the VIP room, helped clean up a bit, gathered my stuff, and headed for my car. The second I walked out of the room, I started crying because... it was over. Everything was done, all the things I’d been looking forward to for months were... done. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, the weekend was behind me.
I’m still not over it. I’m waiting for the next opportunity to meet them all again. I called my sister in that moment of sudden sadness and told her that we absolutely had to do VIP together at Chicago, or hope they come back to Minneapolis soon. I can’t imagine doing a con without VIP again.
And the weekend wouldn’t have been what it was without all the people I met and new friends I made. You’re all wonderful and amazing and I can’t thank you enough for how welcoming you all were.
I hope you all enjoyed reading these. I think I’ll put a master post together to link to all three parts/days and add a link to the flickr album there as well. Thanks again for reading!
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lickstynine · 5 years
Text
Misadventures of Kit: Chapter Twenty-Six
I was planning to save this one for tomorrow, but Tumblr is a glitchy dumpster fire that posted it when I hit “QUEUE,” so here you go
written with @ocsickficsideblog
Alistair stomped out of the shopping centre, texting Taddy to come take him home. He was pretty sure he was allowed to do that - they’d probably be shoe shopping for ages. The chauffeur showed up quite promptly, as he’d just dropped off Reggie at a nearby café.
“Afternoon, sir.”
“Hey,” Alistair mumbled, not even bothering to correct the sir. “Just take me fucking home.”
“Is your celibate home under renovations?” Taddy asked, already taking off towards Alistair’s crappy block of flats. The drive wasn’t long at all - the walk had only taken ages because Kit had the pace of an old woman with a cane.
Taddy’s reply almost raised a snort from Alistair, through he kept having to swipe tears away with his fists. He curled up in a corner of the car, biting his nails.
“I don’t remember shopping being that torturous.” Taddy mused, “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know. I have a toxic personality. I once heard a shrink say that to my mother.” Alistair sighed.
“The same mother who would ruin the life of anyone who disagreed with her?”
“I always fuck everything up for the people I love,” Alistair mumbled. “She hates me too. Kit would rather be with her because I just fucking upset him and get on his nerves…” Alistair was way beyond holding back tears now. Taddy gently patted his shoulder.
“Master Kit won't stay mad. As petty as he is, he isn't very good at holding grudges. Except with that Mister Toby. Quite an odd case there.”
“That’s because it’s with Jules,” Alistair mumbled. “Nobody wants him hurt like that.”
“And Master Julius wishes well for you, too. He's probably expecting you, isn't he?” Taddy prompted.
“Probably. I just...I hate fighting with Kit,” Alistair mumbled. “That girl called me a fuck-up.”
“Miss Siofra? She is a bit… Crass. Master Kit was musing the other day about how he 'seems to attract heathens’.” Taddy almost unconsciously mimicked Kit's accent when quoting him - nothing Kit said sounded right without the comically posh intonation.
That made Alistair smile a bit, but he was still crying. “I don’t want to get between him and her. But she doesn’t like me.” He didn’t actually know that, but he was too emotional to be rational at the moment. “And I get anxious when Kit is off somewhere alone. I know it’s stupid, I’ve been told - but I can’t fucking help it. I fucking found him half-dead on my bathroom floor a few weeks ago!”
Taddy cringed - as oblivious as he'd been at the time, he still felt like a guilty accomplice. “I know. I worry too. I'm glad he's staying with you and Master Julius for now. Master Reginald has been… temperamental… as of late.”
Alistair pulled a face. “Ugh, yuck. He has?”
“Well, he's always temperamental, but moreso lately. I think it's the divorce.” Taddy said.
“He’s getting divorced again? Shocker.”
Taddy chuckled. “At his last wedding, one of the aunts gifted him a portrait of Henry VIII. It took him three days to figure out why everyone else laughed when he unwrapped it.”
Alistair grinned. “Good God, I’m glad Kit takes after his mum.”
Taddy nodded, pulling up in front of Alistair's block of flats. “Tell Master Julius I said hello.”
“Will do. Thanks for picking me up,” Alistair said. Taddy waved and drove off.
Back in the chaos of the shopping center, Siofra was still fuming. Her anger for Alistair was mostly gone, but she couldn't find Kit, and it was getting frustrating. She'd shamelessly barged into the men's room to look for him, but only found a terrified and confused teenage boy. In a less crowded place, Finny could maybe have tracked him. As it was, though, all Siofra could do was keep stomping around the shops, phone in hand as she fruitlessly rang Kit's cell.
It was nearly an hour later before she gave up. Siofra didn't know how she could've misplaced Kit - he wasn't in any shape to sprint away, and she hadn't been far behind him. Yet two laps around the shopping center had produced nothing but frustration. She thunked down on a bench, scowling at her phone. “I ought to go on the bloody intercom and call him like a lost toddler.” She muttered. Finny rested his chin sympathetically on her leg, and she ruffled his ears with her free hand. “We've gotten quite the blooming workout today, haven't we?”
Finny didn't respond of course, and Siofra looked back at her cell. It was nearly dead - she couldn't keep spamming Kit in hopes of a reply. But she could call someone else.
Alistair jumped when his phone started ringing, fumbling with it. “Hello?”
“Where did you get off to?” Siofra didn't sound angry, just tired and worried.
“Home… I thought that’d be better. Where’s Kit?” He paused, sighing. “Sorry. I know I’m a fuck-up, I’ll try harder. Put Kit on, I need to apologise.”
“What are you on about? I didn't say you were a fuck-up. I said you fucked up.” Siofra huffed. “That's not the point, though. I can't put Kit on. His skinny arse teleported to who the hell knows where. I was hopin’ you might be the who in hell who knows. Bloody fuck, I'm not even makin’ sense. I can't find your idiot cousin. I was gonna ask you to come back inside an’ help me look, but…” She sighed.
“I’m coming,” Alistair said at once. “Hang on, I’ll run back. It’s not that far when you’re not dragging Kit along. Okay, where have you looked?”
“Everywhere! I've walked the place end to fuckin’ end! He's not hard to miss, an’ 'e certainly ain't fast. Did 'e catch a breeze and drift up into the fuckin’ rafters?” Siofra actually looked up at the ceiling out of sheer desperation.
“You’ve checked all the bookshop? Every little corner?” Alistair was panting as he ran back through the streets.
“I asked the girl by the door if she'd seen 'im. He's not exactly inconspicuous.”
“Where the fuck has he gone..? This is all my fault!” Alistair wailed. “What if he’s been kidnapped?”
“He has 'is phone. I doubt 'e's been snatched, 'e’s just… hiding.” Siofra was trying to stay calm - the absolute last thing she wanted was to deal with another one of Alistair's fits - but his words made her worry. Kit was right at the intersection of nonthreatening and visibly wealthy.
“Hang on, let me think… Where did he used to hide when we were kids?” Alistair mumbled. Kit had always gone for a closet, or his bedroom if he was close enough. He just wanted a door to lock between him and the rest of the world. “You checked all the toilets?”
Siofra couldn't help laughing. “All the ones I could find. Some'o the lads weren't too happy to see me.”
“Um… he ran off in the direction of the food court. He’s not fast, like you said. Maybe he’s holed up around there somewhere.”
“I mean, I've circled the place like a fuckin’ vulture, but I'll try again. We can't keep talkin’, my phone's almost dead. Meet at the food court.” Siofra instructed. She hung up, shoving her phone in her pocket and hurrying off towards the familiar smell of grease and indecision.
Alistair joined her when he arrived, pink-cheeked and bending sideways, clutching at the stitch in his tummy from the running. “Any luck?”
“Nope.” Siofra scowled. “Where the hell did he go? Is there some liquor store down the road I don’t know about?”
“Not that I know of. Are you sure you checked every corner of the bookshop? Because that’s where he usually hides - around the books.”
Siofra shrugged. “I didn’t scour the place, I asked the gal at the door if she’d seen him. How do you miss three feet of red hair and ten pounds of gold?”
“She could have. I’m looking in there,” Alistair said. “Come with me, you’ve got a sharp eye.”
“If ya think it’s worth a shot.” Siofra would’ve checked the roof at this point if she knew a way up. She gently tugged Finny’s leash, and the dog stopped sniffing a trash can to follow them.
The bookshop was uncharacteristically crowded, but it quickly became clear why - the newest volume of a popular young adult series had been released, and there were a handful of signed copies mixed in at random like golden tickets. Teen girls were shoving at each other, desperately trying to peer through the shrink-wrap, as if they’d be able to see the signature before buying and unwrapping it. Siofra groaned in annoyance.
“What the fuck is all this?”
“New book out. That one with the sorcerer’s daughter and the vampire hunter or something? I don’t know, I just skim read it.”
“You read it?” Siofra snorted.
“Jules read it. I just skimmed it because I hoped it’d have gory vampire bits. Which it didn’t.” Alistair tried to fight through the sea of teenagers to look in every quiet corner of the shop. “Come on, it’s so crowded in here that girl at the front could have easily missed Kit.”
Siofra nodded, scouring the fantasy and historical fiction sections with a sharp eye. Finny sniffed around curiously, but didn’t seem to find anything. Alistair prowled about frustratedly, checking round every bookcase. He thumped on the bathroom doors in frustration. “Oi! You in there, Kit?”
There was a tiny yelp of surprise from inside. “...Al?”
“Kit! Oh thank God, we’ve been looking for you everywhere!” He quickly called to Siofra to tell her, then hurried back to the door. “Let me in…”
“Yea, hold on.” After a moment, the lock clicked, and the door opened a sliver. Kit stepped back right away, staring at his shoes. He knew he looked a mess, and he wasn’t proud of it. His hair was a disheveled mess - he’d pulled his scarf over it to draw less attention - and his eyes were ringed with smeared mascara.
Alistair felt awful when he saw the state Kit was in. He immediately hugged him tight. “I’m sorry!”
Kit groaned at his cousin’s crushing grip. “It’s not your fault. I… I was getting overwhelmed, and I didn’t say anything.”
“Well, if you agree to try to tell me when you feel like that, I’ll try to stop being so full on sometimes,” Alistair mumbled.
Kit nodded. “I just… I’m nervous about the party, and it’s loud and crowded here, and we discussed the complaining beforehand, so when you started, I just… It got to be too much.” Kit had honestly been properly pissed in the moment, and he was still slightly ticked, but not enough to be bothered. At this point, he was just tired, defeated, and miserable.
“Sorry. I guess we sort of have different ideas about when teasing goes over into complaining.” Alistair assumed if he wasn’t serious, it didn’t really count as complaining. But he hadn’t really taken into account that only he could really know whether he was serious about something or not.
“Yeah.” Kit nodded limply. He nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a banging on the door.
“Oi! How long are we gonna spend on bog confessionals?”
Alistair rolled his eyes. “She’s a charmer,” he said, but playfully. “Let’s go.”
“I can’t go out looking like this.” Kit went over to the sink, dampening a paper towel to wipe the smeared makeup off his face.
“I’ll redo your face,” Alistair said, as a peace offering.
“I don’t have my mascara with me.” Kit sighed, trying to clean up his raccoon eyes.
“I’ve got eyeliner. Will that do?”
“I… I don’t usually wear eyeliner. Do you think that would look okay?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll do it all fancy,” Alistair said.
“Fuckin’ hell, we’re havin’ a beauty salon now?” Siofra cried, loud even through the door.
“Pretty much,” Alistair called back. “Two minutes.”
“Fuck this, I’m gettin’ a coffee. Find me when you’re done, if the screamin’ girls don’t eat ya first.” Siofra went off to the café attached to the bookstore, Finny following loyally.
Alistair rolled his eyes, gripping Kit’s chin carefully. “Stay still. Fancy shit is harder to get even.”
Kit was dutifully still, allowing Alistair to move him like a mannequin. Alistair pressed very lightly with his black eye pencil, making a soft grey line around Kit’s eyes that emphasised their shape. The older boy waited for him to finish, then turned to look in the mirror. “What do you think?”
“It looks good on you. Everything does.”
“Mm, most things.” Kit amended. “There are some old photographs of me that I’m quite glad I cannot find.” He pulled a comb from his pocket, smoothing his hair back down in the mirror.
“Why? What were you wearing?” Alistair asked, looking amused.
“You don’t need to know.” Kit smirked, walking out of the bathroom. He was drawing the eyes of quite a few thirsty teenage girls, and he shifted awkwardly on his feet as he looked for Siofra.
Alistair grinned. “Watch out they don’t swarm like piranha, Kit…”
“I’ve always hated fish.” Kit stared at the ground as he walked, trying to avoid the gaze of the girls tactlessly shoving themselves in his way. Alistair led him along, not above elbowing them out the way if he had to. Kit mumbled something about that being rude, but didn’t actually make his cousin stop. Siofra was just around the corner in the café, but to Kit’s horror, there was another familiar red-headed figure at a table by the window.
Alistair felt Kit stiffen beside him. “What is it?” he asked, looking up - then he spotted him too. “Shit!”
“Al… we can’t go over there.” Kit mumbled, pulling his scarf up around his face.
“Where’s your phone? I’ll send Siofra a message,” Alistair mumbled.
Kit handed it over, shuffling nervously where he stood. “She’s going to think I’m an idiot.”
“No she won’t.” He paused as he tapped out the hasty message. “Does she know what he does to you?”
“...sort of.”
“How much is sort of? Will she understand why we need her to leave?”
Kit chewed nervously at his lip; he hadn’t told Siofra that much, just that his father was awful like Alistair’s parents. He had no way of knowing how seriously she’d taken him, or if she realized how wretched the Renfrews were. “I hope.”
Alistair sent the message, simply telling her to meet them outside right now, it was important. He ducked his head, wishing he had a scarf for his bright hair too. Luckily, the girls weren’t interested in him - he didn’t look nearly as expensive or pretty as Kit. Siofra felt her phone buzz, and she checked the text, stuffing the bagel she’d impulse-bought in her mouth to grab her coffee.
“C’mon, Finny,” She mumbled through the dense bread, “We gotta go, apparently.” Like Alistair, she had no qualms about shoving her way through the hormonal parasites, and she nearly spit out her bagel to yell at a girl who jostled her coffee. Just the muffled angry noise she made seemed to be enough, seeing as the girl ran off into the crowd. Before long, she was outside the shop to meet the boys.
Alistair ran to her at once, feeling uneasy the moment he took his eye off the café. “We need to go, we can’t stick around this area.”
Kit nodded urgently, staying latched onto his cousin. His heart was pounding so hard, it seemed like he could feel it in teeth, and all the colour was gone from his face. He was breathing rapidly, and starting to wheeze because of it.
“Relax. We’re in public,” Siofra reassured him, “It’s not like you’re bleedin’ in a pool with a shark.”
“No, it is as close to that as is possible on land,” Alistair said, wrapping his arms around Kit, propping him up. “It’s okay, Kit, we’re going. Breathe…”
“I want to go home.” Kit mumbled, leaning against his cousin. Finny nosed his legs worriedly.
Alistair held Kit upright, struggling with him to get his phone out of his pocket. “Sure, we can go home. Siofra, you coming too?”
“I can, if ya want.” She was clearly talking to Kit more than Alistair.
“You… you don’t have to.” Kit sighed, “I’ve already wasted half your afternoon.”
Siofra rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t have wasted time lookin’ for ya if I didn’t like bein’ with ya, stupid. I’ll come with.”
“Can I ask you something first?” Alistair mumbled, blushing. He started pulling Kit away from the café, but he kept his eyes on Siofra. “Something dumb.”
“I expect everything you say to be dumb. What’s up?”
“Do you...despise me?” He frowned. “I was trying to word that to sound less dumb and it fucking backfired.”
Now Siofra snorted. “No. I think you’re a bit annoyin’. Bit of an idiot. But I don’t hate ya or nothin’.”
Alistair rolled his eyes. “Great. That’s generally the best I can hope for. You’re alright too. Good fun in small doses,” he said, smirking.
“So you can hold your women about as well as your liquor?” She grinned.
“Oh god, don’t bring that up,” Alistair groaned.
“Just drag your idiot out to the car.” Siofra laughed. “You did text the driver, right?”
“Yes, he’s over there. He can’t magically make a parking space materialise closer to the entrance.”
“Pity we can’t pay for that.” Kit mumbled, eliciting another snort from Siofra.
“Trust you to say that,” Alistair teased, getting into the car and hauling Kit after him. “Hi again, Taddy.”
“Afternoon, sir.” Taddy grinned. “So eager to see me again?”
“Oh yeah, I try to manoeuvre a chance encounter whenever possible.”
“As if. You try to not leave your flat whenever possible.” Kit teased. He was trying to be lighthearted like the others, but he was obviously still shaken.
Alistair wrapped an arm around him. “You alright?”
Kit sighed and shook his head. “No. I’m terrified.”
“It’s okay, he didn’t see you.”
“Not for now. For the party. I nearly had a heart attack back there. What am I going to do on Monday?” Kit groaned.
Alistair sighed, trying not to show he’d been worrying about that too. “We’ll figure it out. The house is fucking big enough, we’ll avoid him as much as possible.”
“How big is the place anyway?” Siofra asked.
“It’s gigantic, Siofra, trust me,” Alistair said.
“I've learned better than to trust guys who say that.” She grinned.
“Oh Jesus…” Alistair groaned.
“What were you expecting, Al?” Kit chuckled.
“Yeah, okay, I walked into that.”
Siofra laughed, and Finny barked, putting his front paws on Alistair's leg. Alistair leaned over and made a considerable fuss of him, as if he hadn’t seen him for weeks. Finny licked his face gleefully.
“Master Alistair, we try to keep it PG-13 in the car.” Taddy teased.
“Oh ha ha. You should be saying that to these two.” He nodded at Kit and Siofra, though they were merely sitting sedately together.
Siofra just rolled her eyes. Kit was half asleep on her shoulder, worn out from all the stress. Alistair stroked his hair in a similar way to how he’d stroked Finny. Siofra raised an eyebrow at him. “Tryna steal both'o my men, are ya?”
“Kit’s just as much mine,” Alistair said loftily. “Though I don’t want him for the same things you do. You can take charge of that side.”
“Really? I thought you noble folk were into that. Keepin’ pure blood pure an’ all that bullshit.” Siofra grinned.
“Our parents were worried about disabilities from inbred children. Though some of our older relatives married second and third cousins.”
Siofra scrunched her nose. “Jaysus… I was kiddin’.”
Alistair nodded. “Think of any disgusting and vile thing in the world, and I can almost guarantee it’s happened in our family.”
“Charming lot you are.”
“Aren’t we just?” Alistair sighed. “I wish Kit would cut them off too. Being poor and free is much better.”
Siofra shrugged. “I mean. I agree. But he's clearly got some sort'o hangup about it.”
“Mnn. I’m not sure what that is. Or maybe I’m thinking too deeply about it and he’s just a bloody snob,” Alistair said, giving Kit’s shoulder a pat. He shifted a little, but didn't sit up.
Siofra chuckled. “Probably just a snob.”
Alistair didn’t reply, sighing. He felt it was more than snobbery somehow, but he wasn’t sure if he was just being overprotective again. Finny seemed to pick up on Alistair’s concern and gave his cheek a slobbery kiss. Alistair laughed, reaching over to hug Finny properly. It was like hugging a giant stuffed animal, all soft fur and bright eyes. Finny climbed up into his lap, tail wagging enthusiastically. Alistair was positively flattened, but he hugged Finny happily. “Siofra, look!”
“How could I miss that fuckin’ sight?” She snorted.
“He really likes me, see!” Alistair said, sounding so delighted, like a tiny kid.
Siofra rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Yeah. And your stupid arse bought ‘im a collar worth four times more’n his furry purebred arse.”
“Oh, to Kit I spent the equivalent of a weekend bender. I’ve seen him buy a bottle of wine for almost three grand!”
“He what?” Even after seeing Kit drop thousands on jewelry, Siofra hadn't quite wrapped her head around how much and how freely he spent money. Unlike Alistair, she'd grown up in a functional middle class home and was used to sane people with budgets and normal jobs and cars that cost less than a small house.
“I told you, money isn’t scarce in our family. It’s something that’s always been there.”
Siofra shook her head. “That's fuckin’ wild… sure don't mind lettin’ him pay for shit, though.”
Taddy chuckled. “Then perhaps you can carry Sleeping Beauty upstairs.” he suggested, pulling up in front of Alistair's flat.
“Yeah, sure.” Siofra slid the shopping bags off her arm, holding them out to Finny. “Hold these, will ya?” He took the bag handles in his mouth, climbing out of the car after Siofra exited with Kit.
“Any reason why you entrusted the dog, lovely as he is, to carry your shit before me?” Alistair said.
“He's got more common sense.” Siofra replied. She carried Kit in her arms like knight holding a princess, not at all bothered by the weight.
“I could have carried Kit too. I’ve been carrying him since I could walk,” Alistair mumbled. It was actually only a slight exaggeration there.
Siofra shrugged. “He was already latched onto me. You can carry Finny if it makes ya feel better. They probably weigh about the same anyway.” She chuckled.
“I don’t want to disturb him. Look at the good job he’s doing,” Alistair said fondly.
Finny let out a muffled ruff, wagging his tail. Siofra just snickered.
“Should I tell Julie you're in love with my dog? I dunno how he'd feel about that sort'o threesome.”
“Gross! He’s used to me with dogs,” Alistair grumbled.
Siofra snorted so hard, Kit shifted in her arms. “Oh, so you can have a side fling with any bitch that suits ya?”
“That’s not what I meant! Didn’t they have that story at your high school, where the girl died from dog semen?”
“I mean, yeah, but nobody I knew was stupid enough to believe it.” Siofra rolled her eyes, shifting impatiently as she stood outside the  flat. Even carrying Kit, she had outpaced Alistair going up the stairs. “Unlock the door before I kick it down.”
“Hang on a fucking second,” Alistair said, hurrying along the corridor and spotting the key in the lock.
Siofra sauntered inside at once, dumping Kit on the couch to take her bags from Finny. “Oi! Julie! Wanna see some expensive shiny shit?”
Julius came in from the kitchen, peeling off rubber gloves. “Ooh, yes please!”
Siofra was dumping jewelry on the table like a pirate showing off booty, and Finny ran around Julius's legs, barking happily. Kit seemed less pleased, stirring and groaning on the couch. Julius grinned, ruffling Finny’s fur. “Hello, sweetie! This is a fine welcome.” Finny jumped up on his chest, tail swishing.
Kit rubbed his eyes, sitting up with a tired sigh. “What circle of hell did I end up in?”
“The usual one,” Alistair said. Julius couldn’t greet him - Finny jumping had knocked him onto his bottom, and he was giggling beneath a mass of fur.
Kit just drooped back down on the couch. “I'll give each of you fifty quid right now to make it a quieter circle of hell.”
“Finny, hush.” Siofra quickly put a hand over the dog's mouth. He licked her.
“He’s such a sweetheart,” Julius said, clambering to his feet. Finny barked appreciatively, nosing Julius's hand. When he was done fussing over the dog, Siofra dragged him to the table to show off the matching jewelry she and Kit had gathered, all rubies and rose gold. Normally, Kit would have joined them, but he was already dozing off again.
Julius was an ideal audience for this, examining each piece of jewellery in awe. He ran his fingers over the bracelet and necklace and tried on the rings. Siofra’s hung off his little fingers, but Kit’s fit quite snugly. Kit didn't have bracelets or necklaces, since they'd be hidden by a suit, but he'd found some intricate rose gold collar pins, as well as a myriad of earrings. Once they'd gone through all of those, Siofra pulled out the dress to show Julius.
He gasped. “Oooh! It’s just the right shape for you!”
“Took fuckin’ ages to find the right one.” She huffed, but she was grinning.
“It’s beautiful,” Julius said, feeling the smooth material and swishing the skirt. Siofra puffed up her chest.
“Gonna be fun to go to a real bougie party. I’ve never been a proper guest before, just a performer…”
“Did you burst out of a cake and belly dance?” Alistair snorted.
Siofra rolled her eyes. “No, but that might pay better. If you used your three brain cells, you'd remember I have a band.”
“Hm. Less fun. But seriously, I wouldn’t get excited. Our family parties consist of people with too much money wasting it on fancy liquors that they puke up within two hours. Though it’s fun to fuck with people you have dirt on.”
“What sort of dirt?” Siofra looked almost devilish as she grinned, leaning close like they were kids gossiping in school.
“Oh god, our family has some big-ass skeletons in the closet,” Alistair said. “You think me almost burning down my school was big? That was just like page twelve on the family newspaper. We’ve got bigamy, hidden children, secret abortions, affairs that were found out through the mutual sharing of STDs… I could go on.”
As horrified as she was, Siofra couldn’t stop grinning. “I kind of want you to.” Morbid curiosity was getting the better of her, and she couldn’t help wanting to know more.
“Let me find a good one… Oh, Great-Uncle Austin bought a studded diamond necklace for a quarter of a million just so he could strangle his mistress with it. She was pregnant and was going to reveal it to the family. He said he wanted to leave the diamond imprints on her neck so she’d be scarred forever with her greed.”
“He didn’t! You’re making this up, Star,” Julius said, horrified. He certainly hoped Alistair was making it up.
“I swear to god I’m not. That’s a favourite story to tell. He bought himself the best lawyer in the country and only got a seven year sentence for manslaughter. Don’t ask me how. You know how lawyers twist the case,” Alistair said.
“Jesus fuckin’ christ…” Siofra shook her head slowly. “Rich people are somethin’ else…”
Kit was stirring again on the couch, mumbling quietly in his sleep. Siofra turned to look at him. “Is there a pea in princess’s mattress?”
Alistair snorted. “Maybe there’s a disturbance in the force when I talk about our family.”
Siofra snickered as well. “If there was a force, your family would be the fuckin’ Sith lords.”
“The Sith are way too cool to be our family. All they do is sit and drink and...abuse their kids, it seems. And wives.”
“Charming bunch’o bastards.” Siofra muttered, “We could always poison the punch.”
“I expect Kit will be downing it, but I’m all for it if we can hold him back.”
Siofra snickered. “Temptin’, but I don’t think we can get our hands on that much poison by Monday.” She looked over into the living room when Kit let out a loud snore, and guffawed as he snorted and toppled right off the couch.
Alistair laughed too, going to haul him up. “Kit! Go to bed if you’re gonna sleep.”
The older boy groaned dramatically, holding his arms out for Alistair. “Carry me?”
Alistair rolled his eyes, but scooped Kit up into his arms without hesitation. Though Kit had put on a little weight with his new diet, Alistair still worried about how easily he could haul Kit around. This was his older cousin, two years his senior and a couple of inches taller - they should be around a similar weight at the very least.
Kit leaned against him at once, happy to leech off Alistair’s warmth. He kicked off his boots when dumped on the bed, and started to peel off all of his layers. After tossing both of his coats aside, he gave up, flopping onto the covers with his jumper still on. “Can I have my good blanket?”
“Yeah, of course. Shouldn’t you take your jumper off first? You’ll be roasting.”
“No I won’t. I’m cold.” Kit mumbled, climbing under the blanket as soon as Alistair plugged it in.
“Fine, whatever. Do you want me to stay with you?” Alistair asked.
Kit nodded, reaching his arms out of his blanket. “Please?”
Alistair grinned, clambering onto the bed and rewrapping the blanket around them both. He teased his cousin about it, but Alistair actually really liked it when Kit blatantly asked for his help like that. Few people had ever really needed Alistair in his life, and it felt good to know that Kit did want him around. Now that he was both warm and comfortable, it didn’t take Kit long to drift back off to sleep, snoring into Alistair’s chest. The younger boy was effectively pinned, boiling hot and uncomfortable, but he sat where he was for Kit. He knew he needed sleep.
Back in the living room, Siofra had commandeered Kit’s credit card so she could continue searching for shoes online. She and Julius were looking at Julius’s laptop, twenty different tabs with various shops open, and Finny sitting at their feet. It took over an hour of shopping, but they eventually found a stunning pair of red satin shoes with intricate rose gold heels (not “rose gold” fabric, but actual metal). Siofra quickly clicked on the listing, but nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the price: ₤1550.
“Mary, mother’o whores! You could buy a beater car for that!” She yelled, nearly waking up Kit in the process.
Alistair couldn’t exactly yell out, so he sent Siofra a text: Keep your foghorn gob shut, Kit is sleeping.
I’ll shove my foghorn foot up your ass. Siofra messaged back, though she did quiet down, still staring at the screen in horror. “What the fuck…”
“Kit would buy those for you,” Julius said. “He’s always very generous. Sometimes he gets us takeaways without even asking. The good kind too, that comes in fancy packages instead of polystyrene.”
“I was gonna spend a couple hundred without feelin’ bad, but… shit. That’s a few months‘o rent.” Siofra sighed, tapping her nails on the sleek black credit card.
“His father does own an island though. And he’s not a very nice man. I wouldn’t lose too much sleep over spending his money.”
Siofra pursed her lips, nodding thoughtfully. “Good point. I’m done feelin’ bad.” She added the shoes to her cart and clicked on the checkout.
6 notes · View notes
roxywashere · 5 years
Text
New Light
Rey takes her date where no date has gone before
Rey waited outside of Baby’s Diner for her date to finish her shift. It was 4 in the morning. Not an exceptionally late night for her, but she was tired. She cycled some plasma in and out of her veins, to see if that would help her keep energized. She then did a lap around the state park the diner bordered, which did very little to help.
She pulled out her phone and looked up something she thought she remembered. She chuckled when she found it, and then opened up the group chat.
                                          Hey, Shay
What
                                           You’re not going to believe who                                            has tasteful, professionally photographed nudes                                            from back in the 40s
Who
                                           Aradia Johanna Christa Scomparsa-Prince-Furst
You send me those nudes right goddamned now I’m going to give her so much shit for this
                                           Elle make sure she doesn’t hurt herself
Rey shook her head and put her phone away, just as her date, Felicia Kyle, pushed out of the front door of the diner
“So, how was the fight?” Felicia asked.
“Stopped a bank robbery, burned down someone’s garden, broke a rib. Ya know, your standard save the world stuff.”
“Wait, you broke a rib? And then ran here?”
“I got better. Superheroes are pretty tough, you know.”
“Why don’t you tell me more while I drop my car off at my place.” It was a short 15 minute drive to her place, in a trailer park in the nearby township of White Deer.
“This place is…” Rey started to say as she climbed out of the car.
“Let me guess, ‘Rustic’?”
“I mean, in not so condescending a tone. But… yeah.”
“It’s cheaper than living in the city, I bet.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“I’m gonna go get changed out of my uniform. You wanna come inside or wait out here?”
“I’m good out here. I’ve still got to psych myself up.”
After Felicia went inside, Rey massaged her rib. She lifted up her shirt and took a look at it: Aradia’s magic had fixed the physical break, but the flesh around it was still bruised, dark violet and a sickly yellow. Rey’s superhuman physiology would heal it quick, but it definitely wouldn’t be painless by the end of the night.
When Felicia came back out, she had almost completely transformed. She almost looked like she belonged in Rey’s group of friends: Torn jeans, black leather jacket, black crop-top.
“Lookin’ good,” Rey said.
“I know how to fix myself up all cosmopolitan-like. I wasn’t always a trailer park gal, you know.”
“Oh yeah? Where you from?”
“Austin, Texas.”
“Can’t get much more cosmopolitan than Austin.”
“So, how’s this going to work? Are you going to… carry me? For 700 miles?”
“You’d be surprised.” Rey activated her power and had Felicia in a bridal carry before she could blink. “You want to go straight to Danesville? Or do you want to sightsee first?”
“Depends where you take me. What sights are there to see?”
“Ever been to the top of the FursTech tower in New York?”
“Isn’t the top third completely closed off to the public?”
“I’m not the public anymore, am I? Me and Rad, we’re basically besties now.”
“Alright, then, my hot young steed, lead the way.”
Rey bolted from the trailer park and and down the road, and onto the highway, east towards New York City. It was 3 minutes later when Rey stopped in front of the FursTech tower, and put Felicia down to let her catch her breath.
“Holy shit, Rey.”
“That’s how it is for me all the time.”
“Pick me back up, this almost better than sex.”
“You’re gonna eat those words later on.” Rey scooped Felicia back up, and stared up at the tower. “Brace yourself.”
Rey ran straight up the side of the tower, slower than she usually would but fast enough that Felicia wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. They were at the top in less than a second. Rey set Felicia back down so she could enjoy the view.
“Jesus, this is unbelievable…”
They sat at the top of the tower silently for ten minutes, watching the lights of the cities and highways.
“So, where next?” Felicia asked.
“Ever been to the west coast?”
“I visited LA for vacation once.”
“Good enough for me.” Rey picked Felicia up once again. “Oh, there’s one more thing I have to show you. I only just learned this since you texted me the first time.” Rey braced to run, and bolted straight off the edge of the building, coming to a stop about a hundred feet from the edge, before starting to fall. Felicia screamed and covered her eyes.
Rey slowly activated her power to slow her fall, until she was going horizontally. After sufficiently long time not having hit the ground, Felicia cracked her eyes open again, and looked around, astonished. “You can fly?”
“You betcha.”
“How fast can you fly?”
“You wanna find out with me?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Rey ramped up her power, to the point where she could feel her plasma reserves empty, and needed to draw from the Heart on her back. She kept going, pushing herself even further. She felt the Heart draining. She’d never burned through this much plasma so fast ever, she may not have even used up this much plasma in the entire rest of her life. She didn’t know how fast she was going, but she was beyond words like “fast”.
“Hey, you seeing that?” Felicia asked. Rey was pretty sure she was. It looked like she was seeing her plasma trail in front of her. She raced past streak after streak, until they merged together, and the streaks became a solid tunnel of plasma.
“What the fuck is happening…” Rey muttered.
“Are you gonna stop speeding up?”
“I think I did…”
Rey and Felicia suddenly hit a wall of light, and were spat out of the plasma tunnel above a bright sunny desert, and very quickly slowed to a stop.
“Where the hell are we?” Rey asked.
Felicia, looking around, pointed behind Rey. “I think I see some buildings over there.”
Rey turned and flew in that direction. When they reached it, they found a vast slumped skeleton of a massive skyscraper, draped across the desert, less than two miles from the sea. Much smaller towers poked out of the desert around it.
“Rey… I think this is Dubai. That’s the Burj on its side right there.”
“What the fuck happened? It looks like the city’s been abandoned for a thousand years…” Rey gave Felicia a disturbed look.
“Did we just fucking time travel? Did you go so fast you punched through time?”
“Hey, this is new for me, too.”
“Identify yourself!” ordered a voice from behind Rey. Rey turned to face the source, and found a familiar face floating a few dozen feet from her.
It was the Archangel, the mysterious benefactor of Astra’s League, wearing what looked to be a suit of sleek golden power armor, helmetless, with a long flowing sky blue cape.
“Rey?” the Archangel asked, apparently just as perplexed as Rey was. “How did you get here? We detected an interversal incursion… Was that you?”
“Fuck if I know.” Rey answered.
The Archangel sighed. “You speed-forced it, didn’t you. You went so fast you broke the barrier between worlds. You weren’t this powerful when we fought Therion.”
Rey spun around, showing the Archangel the Heart that Aradia had given her. “Rad spotted me an upgrade. She said you made it.”
“I did. I am happy to see him being put to good use. Who is this with you?”
“This is my date, Felicia.”
“That’ll explain it. I remember when I used to be that much a show-off…”
“Where are we?”
The Archangel hesitated for a moment. “…Let me show you.” She turned and started flying northwest, quickly picking up speed. Rey had no trouble keeping pace. They crossed the middle east in only a minute, eastern europe and scandinavia in another two, and the north atlantic in another five. As they shot past a winterset europe, Rey thought she saw spots of gold glimmering in the snow, but from miles up it was hard to tell. It was a similar story across Canada, but when they neared the midwest, it was a solid blanket of gold with small islands of snow instead of the other way around.
A massive metroplex stretched from northern Minnesota, around the coastal edges of Wisconsin and north Michigan, down through Illinois, and across southern Michigan and into the southernmost reaches of Canada. The sun was just rising here, and every building that could see the sun was glittering golden in the light of dawn.
The Archangel flew down towards the center of the city, where Danesville would have been if this were the Earth that Rey knew. She landed swiftly in a park in front of a massive palace, and the power armor unfolded and she stepped out of it. She was wearing a skintight bodysuit, upon which were mounted a series of decorative golden plates. The cape that had been threaded out the back of the armor was revealed to be a light cloak, held around her shoulders by a small pin with a image of a sun on it, radiating 16 points of light.
Rey landed a bit rougher, and put Felicia down.
Despite evidently being the dead of winter, the air was comfortably warm and the grass was a vibrant green. There were dozens of people milling around the very large park, playing in the snow or walking through it. The were also many animals walking around: elephants, rats, wolves and dogs, otters, cats, pigs and boars, and even some dolphins and octopi floating through the air or in small blobs of floating water, and then countless birds: crows and ravens, and parrots and pigeons, and some hawks and eagles. The animals were dressed in the same style as the humans: an interchangeable assortment of bodysuits, robes, and decorative armor.
“This… is New Jerusalem,” The Archangel said, “my homeworld.”
“It looks like Earth,” Rey said.
The Archangel led them towards the palace, and up the marble steps that rose nearly 100 feet above the park. “We did once call it that, and some still do. Years ago this world was just like any other Earth. I was seventeen when the Revelation occured, and changed all life on this world forever. It’s a very long story, but the short of it, is every living human on Earth was gifted powers by the Goddess of this ‘verse, and we used our powers to build Utopia on Earth. No-one here wants for anything, all is provided free of scarcity.”
The doors of the palace were 200 feet tall, and made of marble and gold. The Archangel gently pressed her palm against them and they silently opened, frictionlessly floating on their hinges until they just as gently stopped.
Even though the sun was still rising behind them, the enormous chamber behind the doors looked like it was lit through the skylights above it, and when Rey examined it closely she realized the skylights were actually an impossibly complex series of mirrors. The roof was held up by 10-foot thick pillars of gold and marble, and on each pillar was a lamp that looked like someone had taken a Heart, much like the one Aradia had given Rey, and carefully peeled it open to reveal the miniature sun within.
“Jesus Christ…” Felicia muttered.
As they neared the end of the hall, they stopped in front of a 20-foot-tall lifelike statue of a young girl, with brown hair and golden eyes, holding up a hand towards the sky, above which was levitating a golden orb, peacefully spinning according to some unknowable pattern. Her eyes were crying a fountain that ran down her face and over her clothes until it reached the pool at the bottom.
Rey found the girl familiar, but couldn’t place why.
On the other side of the fountain was another door, half the size of the first, and through it was another skylight-mirror lit room. At the end of it was a Throne, one designed for a human twice the normal size, beneath enormous tapestries hanging from the ceiling detailing events Rey could only barely comprehend, battles between angels and demons and gods and aliens and other unknowable things. Sitting in the throne was a giantess, ten feet tall, wearing white and gold robes and an elegantly ornate golden crown with a glowing white jem on the brow.
“Good morning, Roxy,” the giantess said. “I see you have brought some guests, they look not to be from around here. I trust you remember the policies for introducing the unready to our world, and the punishments.” The giantess subtly reached for the two giant weapons on either side of her throne: a hammer with a head the size of an oil drum on her left, and a sword as tall as she was on her right.
“Calm down, Romana.” the Archangel insisted. “Rey traveled between worlds under her own power. If that’s not proof of her readiness then there is no such thing. And arriving here on accident, the metanarrative guided her. This was meant to be, for whatever reason yet to be revealed.”
“We’ll see.” Romana leaned back and relaxed.
A large raven flew in from the entrance of the throne room, and perched on the end of the handle of Romana’s hammer. “What do we have here? Are you bringing us another child of yours from another unspeakable escapade?”
“For once this one isn’t mine, I’m pretty sure.”
“I’m sorry, can we go back a step,” Felicia pleaded. “That bird can talk.”
“Humans weren’t the only ones given gifts by our Goddess,” the Archangel explained. “All the most intelligent creatures of Earth were uplifted. This is Muninn, Prince of the Corvans.”
“At your service,” Muninn said, bowing.
“We’re headed for my workshop, would you like to accompany us?” the Archangel asked Muninn.
“I would be honored.” Muninn hopped down from the hammer and glided to the Archangel’s shoulder.
The Archangel led Rey and Felicia deeper into the palace, walking down seemingly endless halls and past lush gardens. Eventually they reached a 20-foot tall door made of a black metal banded by gold. The Archangel pushed through it, and as soon as the door cracked open the sound of hammering suddenly washed over them.
Behind the door was a enormous chamber lit by a dozen furnaces lining the walls, and a dozen holograms that sat throughout the room, lines of light tracing patterns both arcane and technological.
On the back wall was a ring a foot deep made of gold, silver, and black metal, forty feet in diameter, behind which was a blank wall. About twenty feet in front of the ring was a small dias covered in glowing sigils and runes.
At one of the furnaces were two ten-foot-tall humanoid constructs, glowing from within by a white light, hammering away at a large piece of white-hot metal. In front of one of the holograms was a woman, wearing a silver bodysuit and armor and a pair of spectacles, drawing at the hologram, modifying the design it displayed. Next to her was a tall bearded indian man, wearing a close-fitted black robe and an eye patch, with scars poking out from beneath them.
The Archangel glided quickly to their sides and whispered something in their ears, which Rey had no chance of hearing over the sound of hammering, though Felicia did tilt her head as if she were attempting to.
“These are my friends, Eitri and Jayadev,” the Archangel introduced once she was done conspiring with them. “E, J, this is Rey and Felicia, from Astra’s Earth. Rey is friends with Aradia.”
Eitri and Jayadev turned to face their guests and bowed. Rey suddenly realized that she recognized them.
Eitri seemed to notice the look of familiarity on her face. “You did attend the Astra Academy, correct? You must have met our counterparts Ethel Adams and Jake Newark, then.”
“Yeah, I did. I was in their classes.”
Eitri walked around to another hologram, and started typing at a panel of glyphs next to it. “Just to fill you in,” she started, “The Astraverse, as we call it, is a heavily metanarrative reflection of our world, which is why, as you have discovered, it tends to produce individuals identical to individuals in ours, to the point where with only a scant single exception, every single person born on your world has or had a counterpart here.”
“Who is the exception?” Rey asked.
“Astra herself, which is the reason hers is the name we use to identify your world.”
“Wait,” Felicia interrupted. “You said Newark. Isn’t that the last name of Babalon? Are you related?”
Jayadev visibly winced at the mention of the supervillainess. “In both your world and ours, my sister succumbed to the enticing call of wickedness. She is powerful, a scourge that I deeply regret I hadn’t eradicated before it took root.”
The Archangel rested a hand on Jayadev’s shoulder. “That was as much my failure as yours, J. I’m the one who drove her to it.”
“I just fought her in my world,” Rey said. “I don’t blame you at all for not being able to stop her.” Rey lifted up her shirt to expose her deeply bruised ribs. “She’s a caliber all on her own, fast as Hell and hits like a truck.”
“If you fought her and lived you must be quite powerful. What are your powers, if I may ask,” Jayadev said to change the subject.
Rey held out her hand and drew some plasma out of the Heart, forming it into a ball in her palm, before absorbing it into her veins, briefly allowing it to overcharge her, causing her to visibly vibrate, and then she dashed to the other side of the room and back, leaving behind her plasma trail to indicate that she had moved at all.
“Very impressive,” Jayadev said. “Speedsters of your caliber are few and far between. And how about you?” He asked Felicia.
“Oh, I’m not-” Felicia responded. “I’m just a normal human.”
“Aren’t we all.”
“Since it’s only fair,” Eitri said. “I have an expanded intellect and enhanced stamina.”
“I,” Muninn said, “have an uplifted mental capacity, and reflexes, and a boost to flying speed, and can mildly telekinese to compensate for my evolutionarily unforgivable lack of fingers.”
“For me,” Jayadev said, “It’s best to show you.” He ripped off his robe, revealing a black bodysuit underneath it, and stretched, cracking his joints. In less than a second, he dramatically transformed, his limbs becoming longer and leaner, his face sharper and elongated, dark black fur spreading across his skin, until he was a large man-shaped wolf, and then continued until he was completely a wolf with all human traits removed. His clothes had all dissolved into his skin, excepting only his eyepatch, which remained covering a still heavily scarred eye. Even as a wolf on all fours, he was still taller than the Archangel.
The Archangel reached over and gave him a scritch around the ears, which he leaned into enthusiastically. “Don’t be afraid of him, he’s really just a big puppy.”
“I can’t wait to talk to Aradia about all of this,” Rey said. “She’s been here too? You said they knew her.”
“That’s the thing…” The Archangel started. “I have brought her here secretly, but because she's not yet technically earned the readiness that our law requires to introduce her to our world, I cannot show her everything I wish I could.”
Rey realized something. “She had a counterpart here, you were close with her. That statue outside the throne room, that was Rad, I recognized her.”
The Archangel nodded. “She was my niece. She died before she was given a chance to flourish as she has in your world. I’m so proud of what she’s accomplished, all of her progress to make your world more like ours. But we miss her dearly here.”
“Making our world like yours… I’ve never seen anything like this place, it seems so perfect. Peaceful.”
“Just wait until you see the gladiatorial combat,” Eitri dryly noted.
“Our world is peaceful because we have no need to fight for resources and manpower. People work if they desire work to do, but if they don’t they live free of cost. Everyone is free to spend day and night doing whatever they wish. All soldiers are volunteers, signing up to protect their world because they are capable of defending it, and are willing to pass on if they were to give their lives in the process. But our world didn’t just come into being fully formed. Countless people bled and died to each take a turn to swing the hammer to help forge it. When Therion, the Demon King, made his first attempt to conquer our world he did so by first slaughtering 99% of humanity with his army of 100,000 fellow Demons.”
“The Demon King sounds like more and more of a nightmare the more and more I hear about him,” Felicia said.
“Therion makes the Joker look like a youtube prankster, and Thanos look like a schoolyard bully. I helped create Astra’s League in your world to give your world even the slightest chance to survive encountering him, and it was only barely enough.”
“Therion was borne to cause strife and suffering, fundamentally: it’s coded into the very structure of his soul,” Eitri said. “So we took the mantle of stopping him and his ilk from plunging all of the omniverse into chaos.”
“Above you used to be Astra’s League, the guardians of your world,” The Archangel said. “Now that you are a member of Astra’s League, above you now is us, Yggdrasil, the guardians of the multiverse. As for what’s above us, well, maybe one day we’ll all find out.” The Archangel walked over to the dias in the back of the room. “You should head home.”
She punched in a series of glyphs into the panel on the dias, and then a portal opened within the ring on the wall, showing the peak of FursTech Tower in Danesville on Rey’s Earth.
Aradia was meditating in her workshop, and when she suddenly heard the hammering in the Archangel’s workshop she was shocked out of her meditation. She ran to the balcony near the portal. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
Rey sheepishly peered around the edge of the portal. “Hey, Rad… Guess what I learned I can do…”
“Oh, fuck me,” Aradia muttered, cradling her face in her hands. “You speed-forced it, didn’t you.”
“That was the exact same thing she said!” Felicia pointed out.
“Rey, you and I need to have a very long talk about your responsibilities and expectations as a member of the League. Thanks for getting her back home, Roxy.”
“You keep a close eye on her, Rad,” The Archangel told Rad. “She’s got even more potential than we first thought.” She turned to Rey and Felicia. “Now, git. I’ve got work to do.”
Rey picked Felicia up and floated through the Portal and landed on Aradia’s balcony. The Archangel pressed the big central button on the dias, and the portal snapped shut
“What were the results of the soul scans,” She demanded as soon as it did.
“Well,” Eitri answered, “for one, Felicia lied about not having powers.”
“I could tell.”
“As for Rey, there’s no doubt about it: she’s a native New Jerusalemite. How does she not know?”
“I’ll be looking into it.”
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Worlds Collide-Part 5
A/N: This is a Supernatural/Marvel crossover and a collaboration with my gal with the cool accent, @kittenofdoomage.
Part 1
Tony sure knew how to show people a good time.  The night started out at a famous restaurant whose chef/owner was a fixture on Food Network.  Apparently, there was a six-month waiting list, but little things like waiting lists didn’t matter when you were Tony Stark.  The man knew everyone.
For hunters used to greasy diner food, takeout, and bad coffee, 5-star farm-to-table cuisine was a revelation.  Dean’s steak was so tender it melted in his mouth, and Sam actually moaned when he tasted his pasta.  
“Aren’t you hungry, Castiel?” Pepper asked as everyone began to dig in.
“I don’t eat,” he said simply.  She raised her eyebrows at that and looked at Tony. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear.
“Excuse me?” she snapped, looking at him like he was nuts.  “Did you forget to take your medicine?”
The whole table cracked up.
Neither you nor Sam was much for sweets, but when the dessert cart came around, the array of confections were so tempting you both had to try something.  Dean’s eyes lit up when he saw the miniature pies, and he ordered three.
“Man, I could get used to this,” he told you with a sated grin.
The next stop was at a very exclusive nightclub. The line to get in was halfway around the block.  But not for them.  The cars dropped them off in front, they walked right up to the head of the line, and when the bouncer saw Tony, he flashed him a wide grin.  “Evenin’ Mr. Stark.
“Hey, Tom.  They’re all with me,” Tony told him, as people began to recognize Tony and the other Avengers, and began calling to them.
“Thor, I love you!” a petite girl yelled.
“Cap, will you marry me?” a willowy brunette in a gold dress asked.
“Not a problem, follow me, please.” Tom unlocked the velvet rope and ushered them all past the huge line and right into the club.  It was dark and loud and very crowded. Tom led them through the bar past the dance floor towards the back into a separate area.  “Enjoy your night,” he said before leaving.
“VIP Area,” Dean guessed with a shit-eating grin. “Money, man. Nothin’ like it.”
“And being Iron Man helps, I think,” you said with a smile.
San leaned over and whispered in your ear, “You realize we’re never going to be able to get him to go home, right?”
The group stayed for a few drinks, but the place wasn’t really conducive for talking so Tony suggested that you all head back to the Tower and chill.  Everyone agreed.  As the group was leaving, you whispered to Sam, “I think I am going to ride back with Thor so we can talk privately.  Is that okay with you?”
He smiled tenderly at you.  “Of course. I was going to invite Cap to ride with us.  He really seems interested in the whole monster thing.  I thought we could fill him in more in the car.”
Pepper was fascinated by the whole angel thing, so she commandeered Cas to ride back with her and Tony so she could grill him.  Cas agreed, albeit reluctantly.  Cap’s curiosity was piqued about monsters, and he had to know more.  So he happily switched cars with you so he could talk to the Winchesters, and you could spend some time with Thor.
When you got into the car, Thor was already there, twirling his hammer absently.  He looked up at you and smiled.  “Hello Y/N.  Where is the Captain?”
“He is riding with Sam and Dean so we can talk.  I hope that is okay.”
He nodded and you sat down.  There was a bit of an awkward silence for a moment.  “So no one else ever has been able to pick up your hammer? Not even Loki?”
“No. No one. I was raised believing Loki was my brother, but he was adopted,” Thor said simply.
“Did he know he was adopted?”
“Not until he was an adult. My father should have told him when he was a child.  Much of this could have been avoided had he done so, I think.” Thor looked very sad suddenly, and you felt bad for him.
“So if your Dad is a king, are you a prince?” you wondered out loud.
“I am the heir to the throne of Asgard.”
You laid your hand gently on his arm, feeling the need to try and comfort him for some reason.  “Did you have any idea of my existence?”
“None at all.”  The sadness was back in his eyes.
“Tell me about your mother, Thor,” you said quietly.
He looked surprised by your question. “My mother, Queen Frigga, is a brave and noble woman. She raised Loki as her own, and rules Asgard at my father’s side.”
You swallowed past the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat.  “If I am ‘of Asgard’ like you say, is there any other way to prove it besides the fact I can lift your hammer?  I have to be honest, I need a little more before I am ready to accept that I was born on another planet.”
“There may be a way,” Thor said slowly.  “Everyone in Asgard uses the Bifrost to travel through the nine realms. It is how I am able to come here to Midgard, or as you call it, Earth.  Heimdall is the gatekeeper of the Bifrost.  He sees all who come and go.  Someone brought you here. He may be able to show us who it was.”
“Can we contact him?” you asked excitedly.
“I think we should go to Asgard and talk to him directly, and my father,” Thor told you firmly.
A look of sheer horror crossed your face.  “ I am not going to Asgard to talk to your father, Thor!”
“Why not?” he asked, a look of puzzlement on his face.
“Your mother sounds like a wonderful woman.  The last thing I want to do is show up and parade her husband’s infidelity in her face.  She doesn’t deserve that.  There has to be another way.”
“But Asgard is your home!” Thor shouted at you angrily.
“No, Asgard is YOUR home.  I’ve never even heard of it until today.  Think of something else,” you cried.  The car had arrived at the Tower, and as soon as it came to a stop, you jumped out and ran into the building and up the elevator to your room to calm down.  
After a few minutes, you felt better.  You splashed some water on your face and decided to rejoin the others.  “Jarvis, where is everyone?” you asked the AI.
“Everyone is gathered in the recreation room on the third floor,” he informed you.
When you found them, everyone was sitting around the room in small groups talking, and Tony was behind the bar mixing cocktails.  Sam looked over at you, immediately concerned.  “Where did you go?”
“I just needed a minute. I’m fine,” you assured him.
“Hey, Point Break, you should give our guests some of your Asgardian mead to try.” He winked at Pepper as he said this.  Everybody groaned.
“That stuff is poison!” Nat commented with a shake of her head.
“Worst hangover of my life!” Clint added.
“I’d rather turn into the Hulk than drink that crap!” Bruce said vehemently.
Cap turned to you and Dean. “Don’t listen to them.  It’s not bad. I can’t get drunk on regular alcohol because my metabolism is too high.  But that stuff is aged 1,000 years.  It packs a punch.”
Thor came over to the group with a small leather jug. “I have some. Do any of you want to try it?”
Dean was intrigued.  “I will.  I have a pretty high tolerance.”
Rhodey sniggered.  “There is no such thing as a tolerance when it comes to this.”
“Sam?” Thor asked, holding up the bottle.
“I think I’ll pass,” Sam commented, holding up a hand.
“I’ll try some,” you said, surprising yourself.  You held out your cup, and Thor poured some of the amber liquid into it.  You took a tentative sip.  It tasted like honey and peaches.  “This is good,” you muttered as you drained your glass.
You and Dean were talking with Clint, and Dean was clearly feeling the effects of the mead.  He was sweating profusely and leaning against you for support.  You looked for Sam, and he was in a corner talking with Cap, Tony, and Cas.   They all looked very serious, and Tony looked a little scared, actually.
“So Barton,” Dean slurred.  “Can I ask you a question?
“Sure man,” Clint replied.
“All these other Avengers have powers or fancy suits, and all you got is a measly bow and arrow? How is that fair?” Dean was starting to sway unsteadily.  So much for his tolerance.  You felt no effect from the mead whatsoever.
“I never miss.  Ever,”  Clint said simply, shrugging his shoulders.
Dean pulled out his Colt.  “Yeah, big deal.  “I don’t miss either.”
“Wow, that’s a beauty!” Clint commented.  “Can I see?”
Dean got a sly grin on his face.  “Only if I can try out your bow.”
Clint reached behind the bar and pulled out a lethal-looking bow and a quiver of arrows. Dean held out his hands. “Gimme.”
“I don’t know if this is a good idea...” you started.
Clint grinned. “I wanna try the Colt.”
Dean and Clint traded weapons.  At the far end of the room, a dart board was set up against the back wall. “If you two are gonna be idiots, do it over there, please?” you pointed over towards the back of the room.
The two men loped in that direction, Clint partially supporting Dean.  Nat walked over and stood next to you, eyeing the two men critically.  “At least Dean is drunk.  ‘What’s Clint’s excuse?”
“Do you always have this gun on you?” Clint asked conversationally as he tested the weight of it in his hand.
“Yep.”
Dean lifted the bow to his shoulder, notched an arrow, took aim and fired.  The arrow hit the target dead center.  He proceeded to do it three more times, and each time he hit the bullseye dead on.  Handing the bow back to Clint, he smirked drunkenly.  “Told ya.  I don’t miss either.  And I’m drunk.”
“Want to go to the firing range? I really want to fire this gun,” Clint asked hopefully.
“Why not? Lead the way,” Dean replied.
“He must really be drunk.  Dean never lets anyone fire his gun,” you told Nat with a laugh.  “Hey Sam,” you called over.  “Dean’s going to the range with Clint so he can shoot his Colt.”
Sam looked astonished. “He is gonna be so hungover tomorrow.”
Thor came over to the two of you, and when Nat saw his face she quickly excused herself.  “I’m going to let you two have a moment.”
“Will you come with me, Y/N?” he asked you, looking very serious.
“Where to?”
“Heimdall sees all who come and go from Asgard.  We are going to ask him to give us his sight to see who brought you here.”
Part 6
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(You Turn Me Into) Somebody Loved: Connor/Reader Soulmate AU
Summary: All things considered, you’re probably not the first person to find your soulmate after spotting their signature on somebody’s cast. The magic of that moment doesn’t fix everything, but it fixes enough.
Word Count: 6616
You had pictured the first day of your senior year more times than you could count. You envisioned making the familiar drive, walking into a school you knew like the back of your hand, and finishing high school with the same people you started it with. The beginning of a year full of stress and fun and college applications and parties.
None of those visions looked like this: sitting in your car outside of a new school half an hour before the first bell, your thighs sticking to the seat while you tried to work up the nerve to walk inside. Your nails scratched at the leather of the steering wheel while you took a few deep breaths and let yourself run the numbers again. You ghosted your hand over the name scrawled just under your collarbone, the one that had appeared like clockwork on your sixteenth birthday. The one that belonged to your soulmate.
Connor.
According to the (probably inaccurate) website you had found, there were currently 1,627 people in the country named Connor. 28 of them lived in your state. 1 of them could be found in your town.
The odds of that Connor being your Connor was small. Infinitesimal, really. There was a Connor who worked at the grocery store near your old house and another who went to the same camp as you every summer since you were ten. Neither of those people were your soulmate and there was no reason to believe this one would be, either. Your soulmate might not even live in the same country as you, and how could you possibly work out those numbers? It was a comforting thought, though. That someone was waiting for you to make this all a little less intimidating, more of a journey than a punishment. And wasn’t there something that felt a little different today, in some quiet way you couldn’t pin down? Still…your soulmate was probably miles and years away.
You heaved another sigh and looked out across the parking lot. Other people would start showing up soon, you knew, and a crowd wasn’t going to make this any easier. With that thought, you grabbed your bag and swung open your car door, narrowly missing a jumpy looking kid in a blue shirt.
“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention at all and–oh hey, you live across the street from me, right?” you asked, vaguely recognizing the boy with his arm in a cast.
“No, no, it’s completely fine! You didn’t even hit me, so, it’s fine! And I think so, too! I definitely recognize you. I’m Evan,” the boy in question blurted out all at once, speaking a mile a minute and extending his good hand to shake yours.
You smiled inwardly, thinking he seemed nice and somehow even more nervous than you were. You introduced yourself and asked him if he would point you in the direction of the office so you could pick up your schedule. You hoped you had a class or two with him, it would be nice to have a sort-of-friend already.
It wasn’t until the end of the day that you saw Evan again. You had just left the school’s main office after dropping off your signed schedule to prove you had managed to find your way to all your classrooms, and the sweet secretary had held you up for a few minutes asking all about your first day. By the time you started to make your way out of the building, most of the school had emptied out and the hallways were clear, which only served to make a tall boy you hadn’t seen before nearly knocking you over in his haste to get out of the computer lab seem all the more dramatic.
You absently wondered where he was going in such a hurry when Evan slammed right into you, calling after whoever had just marched out of the room.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” you tried to joke, steadying your neighbor who seemed borderline distraught. “Hey, are you okay?”
Evan shook his head and gestured down the hallway with his broken arm, sputtering something about a letter. It was then that your eyes zeroed in on his cast. There was a name scrawled across it and though it was larger and more rushed than the letters currently etched on your skin, there was no mistaking the handwriting. Whoever wrote that, whichever Connor wrote that, was your soulmate.
“Evan, who signed your cast?” you interrupted. You knew you were being awful and rude and completely insensitive to this kid who was spiraling himself, but something in your gut made you feel frantic. You had to get to Connor.
“You’ve already met him,” he answered, the sarcasm in his voice clearly surprising you both. “He just took off.”
Of course it was the boy who was currently storming out of the building because why wouldn’t the universe want you to have to break into a dead sprint to catch up with him? You yelled some sort of apology (you hoped) at Evan and ran off down the hallway, praying Connor would still be in sight. Luck or fate or Connor’s surprisingly slow speed was on your side that afternoon because you could make out his form across the student lot.
“Connor! Connor, wait up!”
You let out a sigh of relief when he paused at his name. He turned to look at you and stayed in place as you awkwardly jogged the rest of the way to where he stood. He narrowed his eyes, probably trying to figure out who the lunatic who knew his name was.
“Who are you and how do you know my name?” he asked and you started to laugh. Maybe this soulmate stuff ran deeper than you thought. Could you read his mind?
His face changed from slightly suspicious to completely closed off in a nanosecond and you paled as he turned on his heel to walk away. You really didn’t want to blow this whole relationship before you even introduced yourself.
“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you!” you promised, putting your hand on his arm to stop him. “I just…well, I know you because you’re kind of my soulmate. I’m pretty sure. Positive, actually. I saw your name on Evan’s cast, so unless Evan was lying…well, I’m your gal.”
You cringed at yourself as soon as you heard the words leaving your mouth. You’re his “gal”? Jesus, this was not your smoothest moment. You would have been relieved when Connor moved on without commenting on your weird introduction if he hadn’t looked so angry.
“Look, I don’t even fucking know you, so whoever the hell put you up to this-”
“Put me up to what?” you interjected. You had no idea where this guy’s hostility was coming from but the last thing you needed was him thinking this was some kind of prank. You tugged your shirt down to show him your soulmark. “Look.”
His eyes shot down to your collarbone and jumped back up to your face, the shock written all over his expression.
“I know, right? Kind of trippy. Can I see my name? Or is it somewhere weird?” you asked with a grin, relief lifting your heart when you saw him give the smallest of smiles in return. He was beautiful, a little.
The smile didn’t last long, his mouth returning to a tight line and his shoulders tensing. He started rifling through his battered messenger bag until he found what he was looking for: a notebook and a pen.
“Write down your name,” he instructed, shoving the items he held in your direction.
He really seemed to believe this was all an elaborate joke at his expense and the realization kind of broke your heart. What happened to this kid to make him so sure a complete stranger was out to humiliate him? You took the pen and did as he asked, noting the way his eyes widened when he saw your name written in your own handwriting. He snapped the notebook closed and stuffed it back in his bag, his knuckles turning white as he tightened his hands on the strap across his chest. His gaze focused for a brief moment on your still-exposed soulmark before he forced it away, looking at your face but not meeting your eyes.
“You should cover that up,” he said. He was trying to sound harsh, you could tell, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Nobody needs to see it and you can avoid all the shit you’ll get for being cosmically assigned to the school psycho.”
That explained all the skepticism and anger, you figured. He had problems at school. Well, now he’d have you, at least. Even if he didn’t want you.
“I don’t really care what anyone thinks about my soulmark,” you shrugged, and found that you really meant it. “Anybody but you, I guess. Can I see your mark now? It’s okay if you don’t want to show me, I’m just…I’m just curious, I guess.”
Connor furrowed his brow, more surprised than annoyed, and took off a black cuff that he wore around his wrist. There was your signature, right above his hand. You reached out to trace the lines of your name, and the sudden goosebumps on Connor’s arm made you smile.
“Nice,” you teased. “Very visible. More effective than any wedding band could be.”
“Yours isn’t exactly subtle either,” he smirked, his amusement fully reaching his eyes for the first time since you started talking. He looked like a different person.
“You’re cute,” you told him and smiled wider as his face flushed. “And getting cuter. Do you have a ride home?”
“Nah, my sister drove this morning and she’s already gone. I’m just going to walk.”
“I have a car. I could give you a ride and we could get to know each other a bit. If you want, I mean. You don’t have to-”
“No! I mean, shit, yes. I do want that,” he answered, cutting you off mid-ramble with a ramble of his own. “A ride. I’d like a ride. That’d be good, thanks.”
Something that felt suspiciously like butterflies kicked up in your stomach as you watched Connor climb into the passenger seat of your car. You barely knew this boy, but every part of you was screaming “it’s him–we found him!”
“Are you new?” Connor asked. “I can’t remember ever seeing you before, and if I had…I don’t know. I’d remember it.”
“Yeah, today was my first day,” you smiled. “I only lived the next town over, though.”
“Your parents made you move like, two minutes away in your last year of high school? That’s shitty,” he said. “Fuck, sorry. I don’t mean to be…”
He trailed off and you filled the silence with a soft chuckle.
“It’s fine, Connor. It was shitty, but it’s whatever. Money stuff means a smaller house, and this is where that house is,” you shrugged and he nodded, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.
The rest of the car ride carried on in a similar fashion. Someone asked a question, the other person answered. Once the two of you stopped stuttering over every other word, the conversation came as easily as breathing. Connor was funny in a way you didn’t see coming and he kept you on your toes with unexpected questions. Every time one of your answers made him grin or smirk, it felt like you had won the best kind of prize. Eventually you turned onto his street and slowed to a stop in front of the house he pointed out, finding yourself wishing he lived further from the school so you could have talked longer.
“I guess I have to give you back now,” you teased.
“I’d rather stay in here with you, believe me.”
“Well, if you’re such a fan of my car, maybe you can visit it tomorrow morning. I can pick you up before school, you’re not that far from my house,” you lied. He lived across town, but you didn’t care. The early start was worth it.
He nodded and rubbed his hand roughly on the back of his neck.
“Cool, yeah.” Connor got out of your car and stopped himself before closing the door. “I’m more of a fan of the driver than the car. Just for the record.”
He didn’t look back after gently closing your car door and loping towards his house, which was definitely for the best. He didn’t need to see the goofy grin that had spread across your face.
You were outside of his place bright and early the next morning, and Connor was out the door almost as soon as your car came to a halt. He handed you coffee in a thermos and you had to bite your lip to fight off a repeat of yesterday’s dorky smile. You were going to offer to stop for coffee before school, but this was better (and the sight of Connor with a thermos? Adorable).
“You seem eager. Waiting for me at the window, huh?” you asked playfully, carefully watching his expression to make sure he knew you were just teasing.
“We didn’t exchange phone numbers, so unless you wanted to honk the horn at 6:30 in the morning, yeah. I had to wait.”
“Oh,” you said flatly, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“And this might be my way of asking for your number.”
“Oh,” you said again, and Connor actually laughed at the change in your tone. It was a sound you wouldn’t mind hearing more of.
You did give him your number, and that was the start of your near constant stream of Connor. You drove to school together, sat together at lunch (and snuck as many texts as you could get away with during the day), drove home together, and then talked on the phone until one of you fell asleep. For Connor’s part, he still found himself blindsided that someone was not only spending so much of their time with him (and voluntarily, no less) but seemed to enjoy doing it.
Connor had given plenty of thought to what it would be like when he eventually met you. Finding your soulmate sounded like such a big deal when his parents talked about it, like Christmas and the Fourth of July combined. As a little boy, he guessed there must be fireworks and parades involved to mark the occasion. The older he got, the more he figured it would just involve a very disappointed person with his name stamped somewhere on their body, if he got a name at all. Neither scenario he dreamed up came close to the reality of the situation, and he had never been so happy to be proven wrong. There were no fireworks when you met your soulmate, it turned out. It was more like an illuminated pointing arrow: Hey, you know all your shit? This is the person who’s going to stick it out with you. This is the one who wants to be there to make it easier.
When Connor heard your voice calling his name for the first time, he was so sure you were about to give him hell for shoving that Evan kid or for some other infraction he wasn’t even aware he had committed. You didn’t. Instead, you touched his arm and looked at him like he was made out of gold. He couldn’t remember anyone looking at him that way before and he was overcome with the desperate need to keep it, to deserve it. He still didn’t think he deserved it, but you were here and you were still looking at him like he was something special. He kept expecting that to wear off, but it hadn’t happened yet.
All things considered, the trust you had started to put in Connor might have been the thing he was most proud of. It made him feel like maybe you were getting something out of this relationship, too, and you weren’t just stuck with him thanks to some accident of fate. He hadn’t known you for long, but he spent enough time studying your face to pick up on your little signals, like how you’d press your lips together and look past him before telling him something that was important to you. It always stirred something in his chest when you did it, a feeling between protectiveness and affection, and he’d sit up a little straighter so you knew he was listening. He took it seriously because he took you seriously, and that wasn’t lost on you.
So when you did your lip-press-look-away thing that usually came before a long talk, Connor wasn’t expecting you to ask if he felt like going for a walk.
“Uh, alright. Why?” he asked, dragging out the last word.
“It’s not a trick question, Con,” you laughed. “I don’t know. It’s nice out and walking is good for you. I can show you my old house and stuff.”
The distance from Connor’s place to your old house wasn’t really all that far, but neither of you made much of an effort to get there in a hurry. You liked the way he’d roll his eyes but smile every time you called a detour down a back road or into a convenience store an “adventure” and he liked the way you genuinely did treat everything like it was an exciting new discovery. Really, it was just nice to be out together, enjoying one of the last warm days of the season.
As you walked, you pointed out your old school and the park where you had your first kiss back when you were in seventh grade, and finally found your way to your old house. You felt a little sad looking at it, but pushed that back and grinned at Connor.
“How are your fence jumping skills?” you asked him.
“Exemplary,” he deadpanned. “Why do you ask?”
“There’s something I want to show you, but it requires some light breaking and entering.”
“Well, if it’s only light breaking and entering.”
Behind your old house, there was a fenced off patch of woods where you spent most of your time playing as a kid. You thought it might have technically been town property, but that hadn’t stopped you before and you wanted Connor to see it, so fence jumping it was. Besides, you were pretty sure Connor Murphy wasn’t a complete stranger to rule breaking despite his scandalized tone.
You snuck into the woods unseen through the back of the property, and laughed when Connor kissed you after you made your jump. It wasn’t the first time he had kissed you, but it still hadn’t lost it’s novelty. He had been so hesitant to touch you at first that every time he initiated contact your heart soared.
“Come on,” you said, leading him towards what you brought him there to see.
When you made it to the tree that held the tree-house you had built back in elementary school, you had to laugh. It was falling apart after years of being rained and snowed on, and it hadn’t been very good to begin with. You told Connor the story of how you had dragged out wood and nails one summer and built what you considered a palace at the time.
“This is a pretty fucking poor showing, even for a ten year old,” he teased, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side to soften the joke even further.
“I know,” you laughed, hip checking him. “It was supposed to be something my dad and I did together, but he never had the time. I wanted my own tree-house so badly that year. I got tired of waiting and tried to do it myself.”
You could feel the change in Connor instantly; the regret he felt about teasing you was palpable even though it clearly hadn’t upset you. He looked back at the tree-house and tilted his head.
“On second thought, it’s pretty spectacular.” You snorted and he quickly continued. “I mean, you did it all by yourself. That’s fucking impressive. And like, yeah, it’s a little roughed up now, but it’s still up there.”
Your lips twitched into a smile at his words. Here was this boy, mostly sharp edges and cutting remarks to everyone else, talking up a terrible childhood project to spare your feelings. You could love him, you realized, and not in any vague “well, he’s my soulmate so of course” kind of way. Something specific and concrete was building in your heart, feelings were growing and shifting and clearing room. Not for a concept, but a person. This person. Connor.
His eyes were still on the tree-house but you were looking at him. For maybe the first time since you met, he didn’t seem to be thinking ten steps ahead, ready to run or attack if it came to that. You hoped it was because he knew he’d never have to do either when he was with you.
“I’m glad I brought you here,” you said, cutting off his rambling compliments.
He looked at you, taken aback by the sincerity in your voice and how fondly you were looking at him. He swallowed and nodded, “Me too.”
Two weeks to the day, Connor was the one asking you to go for a walk. He wouldn’t tell you why he was bringing you back to your old neighborhood, but he had been nervously bouncing his leg all morning so you knew something was up. He helped you over the fence to your woods again, and you stopped short when you made it to your tree-house. Or what had been your tree-house, more accurately.
Connor had rebuilt the old structure from the floor up and turned it into something that was actually safe to climb into and big enough to hold two teenagers. It had windows and a door and an actual ladder and your heart felt so full that you were surprised you weren’t floating away.
“Why did you do all this?” you asked after he brought you up and pointed out where he salvaged some of the weathered wood to use for the windows, thinking you might like to keep a piece of your original attempt. You were curled up on the floor of the tree-house and your head was right on his chest, his faint heartbeat nearly lulling you to sleep.
“You said you had always wanted something like this and I wanted you to get it. I want you to get everything you want.” His voice was so quiet and honest that you could have cried.
“I really love you, Connor.”
You hadn’t exchanged I love yous before that moment and maybe you were rushing things, but you knew in your bones that it was true. You loved him and you wanted him to know it. Connor sat up, giving you just enough time to get nervous before he broke into a rare toothy smile.
“I really fucking love you, too,” he replied.
You burst out laughing, partially at what a Connor response that was and partially out of relief that he felt the same way.
“That’s settled then,” you said with a lazy grin and took his hand as he reached to pull you up.
“This is probably dumb because, like, the soulmark and everything, but I really want us to be a real thing. If that’s something you want?” he said, making a statement but handing it to you like a question.
“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Murphy? You’re not being very clear,” you said, not intending to make this easy on him.
Connor rolled his eyes and pulled you closer to him by your waist. “Yeah, that’s what I’m asking.”
“I don’t know. What kind of dowry are you offering here?”
“I didn’t realize we were medieval farmers, and the bride is the one who-”
You cut Connor off with a kiss, and you could feel him smile against your lips before pulling away.
“Yeah, I guess I’ll be your girlfriend,” you answered, crinkling your nose.
“Cool.”
“Cool.”
Once you and Connor had official titles, it wasn’t long before you dragged him home to meet your family. He was fidgety but polite (your eyes nearly bugged out of your head when you opened the door to find him holding flowers for your mom with his hair pulled back in a neat knot) and you could see he was trying hard to be the person it was so easy for him to be when you two were alone. Your parents liked him right away and you thought it meant a lot to him to have people welcome him into their lives without, like, the intervention of destiny or whatever it was that put your names on each other. Connor eventually introduced you to his family, too, but mostly he brought you upstairs to his room to listen to music or talk or just lounge around together away from his parents and sister.
Connor seemed to crave the companionship you had fallen into, and you were only too happy to give it to him. In some ways your relationship was fast, instant. One minute you didn’t know Connor and then you did. He showed up, angry and closed off, and now he was one of the most important people in your life. It was slow in the ways that mattered, though, and you were glad for it. Every day you learned a bit more about each other. He knew your favorite book, you knew he hated mushrooms, you both swapped weekly playlists and made fun of the other’s taste in music. And then there was the deeper stuff: the way he felt out of control sometimes. The strained relationship with his family and the unfair way he treated his sister. The scary thoughts he had when he was at his lowest points.
You couldn’t fix those things and he never asked you to, but you could help him find help. You put your arms around him and promised you’d figure something out together, and that’s exactly what you did. There were free groups he thought were stupid but attended anyway, you by his side and one of his hands held tightly between both of yours. There were dinners with his his mom and movie nights with Zoe. Both were awkward at first but slowly morphed into a routine you knew everyone involved grew to appreciate. There were things Connor figured out helped in small ways: sticking to a schedule, getting exercise, eating well. It wasn’t the only kind of help he needed and you both knew it, so it was a huge relief when a discussion with Zoe led to a discussion between them and their mom, and the combined efforts of both Murphy siblings were enough to finally get Connor the help he deserved.
There were setbacks, of course, but he had made such strides in the last few months. You had seen that progress with your own eyes, so when Connor started seeming a little distant as graduation approached, you were only the usual amount of concerned a girlfriend would be. Looking at your unanswered goodnight text, you didn’t let yourself blow it out of proportion. Maybe he had just fallen asleep, or maybe he needed a little space. Your hand drifted to where Connor’s name was inscribed on your skin, and knew that you’d be able to sense it if it was a catastrophe and not just another setback. It was fine and you’d see him tomorrow at school.
You didn’t see him tomorrow at school. You did see Zoe, however, which allowed you to breathe a little easier. She wouldn’t have been at school if there was anything seriously wrong. You nearly dropped your phone in relief when a text from Connor came in.
“Sorry, not feeling great. Talk later.”
It gave nothing away, but just hearing from him was like a hundred pounds of weight falling away.  You had resolved to give him the rest of that weekend to work out whatever he was feeling, but as you tossed and turned on Friday night, you were less and less sure that you were making the right call. By the time late Saturday afternoon rolled around, you couldn’t take it anymore and hopped into your car.
When you knocked on the Murphys’ front door, it was Zoe who answered.
“He’s not home,” she said, looking at you with a sympathetic frown. “He went out this morning and said he wouldn’t be home until later.”
You thanked her and turned to leave when she hesitantly called your name. “I know my brother has been better since he met you, but these last few days—he’s back to being…I don’t know what he is. He can be scary when he gets like this. I wouldn’t go looking for him.”
You nodded, understanding why she felt that way. You knew she had a tense relationship with her brother and things were still a little rocky there. Seeing the Murphys interact with Connor was usually uncomfortable and sometimes a little sad. It was so obvious to you that they loved him but had no idea what to make of him, and to Connor, that uncertainty had always felt like disdain. At some point a wall was built that they hadn’t yet figured out how to break down. For you, it was different. Meeting Connor was like finding yourself in a brand new country and realizing you somehow already spoke the language. Your choices were much simpler: Connor needed you, so you’d be there.
You had no idea what was going on with your boyfriend, but you had a good idea of where he might be. You got behind the wheel of your car and made the last minute decision to stop somewhere to buy him lunch. If he’d been gone all day, he almost certainly hadn’t eaten, and an empty stomach on top of everything else never helped anyone. Things were easier for Connor when he slept and ate regularly, you knew. You couldn’t do anything about the sleeping, but food you could handle.
It took you less time than usual to get to the tree-house and up the wooden ladder, and you smiled a bit when Connor was on his feet the second he saw you to help you get in. He seemed a little surprised at your arrival, and some part of you wondered if this was a test he didn’t know he was giving you. He wouldn’t have gone to your tree-house if he hadn’t truly wanted to be found and the way he hugged you made you think he wasn’t sure if you’d miss him enough to come looking. He should have known better than that. No matter how lost he got, you would always come find him. There was no question of that.
“I grabbed you a sandwich and some water,” you said, holding up the bag and you were glad when he thanked you and started eating without having to be pressed.
You gave him a minute to eat before you broke the silence.
“So, what’s going on?” you asked.
It was clear you were talking about more than just this afternoon and Connor fiddled with the wrapper on his bottle of water before he started to speak.
“Your life would be easier without me,” he blurts out and you pale, his statement just ambiguous enough to make your stomach sink. “No, I’m not talking about…I just mean if you were with someone else. You don’t have to be with me, there’s no law that says you have to stay with your soulmate. Soulmates actually split all the time. Things have gotten so much better since you came along, but I’m still me and I still have all my shit. Meeting you wasn’t a magic fix…I wanted it to be. For me, but for you, mostly. I’m still fucked up. I’m still going to do shitty things. I’m still doing shitty things.”
“Yeah,” you shrug and his eyes shoot up to meet yours. “You’re going to do shitty things and I’m going to like you anyway. I’m going to do shitty things and you’re going to like me anyway. Then we’ll say we’re sorry and work on being less shitty to each other next time.”
“But if you were with someone else, it wouldn’t have to be like that. You’d be happier. I don’t think anybody could be good enough for you,” he said, lightly rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. “But you could get a hell of a lot closer than me.”
“Life wouldn’t be perfect no matter who I was with, Connor. And even if you created some imaginary flawless human, it still wouldn’t be what I would want, because that person wouldn’t be you.”
“And what’s so great about me?” he asked with a quiet, humorless laugh. “I’m the guy whose girlfriend has to track him down to make sure he hasn’t done anything stupid that day. Is that what you want the rest of your life to be? Taking care of a burden?”
“Is that really how you see yourself?” you ask. “Because that’s not who you are.”
Your mind started to go over the year you and Connor had spent together. When he said that meeting your soulmate wasn’t a magic fix, he was right. When you finally laid eyes on the boy with the chipped nail polish and beat up messenger bag, time didn’t stop. No choir started to sing and neither of your problems flew away on a breeze. But there was magic. It was in that moment of recognition: you’re my person, and you’re going to go on being my person for a long time. It was in every moment you tried to make the other’s baggage a little lighter by grabbing a side. And wasn’t that better? Having someone who saw you for exactly who you are and still wanted to stay?
You thought of one particularly rough night you had a few months ago and started talking.
“Do you remember that night when my grandma got really sick? And when I texted you about what was happening, you drove right to the hospital without me even having to ask? You stayed all night and in the morning, you went and bought breakfast for me and my mom because you knew neither of us would be leaving and you didn’t want us to have to eat gross hospital food. Does that sound like a burden to you?”
“No,” he reluctantly admitted.  “But that was just one night-”
“It wasn’t just one night, Connor. It’s not just one thing. You bring me coffee every morning. You’re the one who orders the food for us because you know I hate doing it. You ask me for my opinion on everything and you actually listen to what I’m saying. You’re the guy who tossed me a chapstick and said you noticed I was low so you bought me a new one. Because you pay attention. The details matter to you. I mean, Connor, you’re the boy who built me this tree-house. From the second I saw my name on your wrist, I haven’t felt alone even once. You make my life better in a million ways, big and small. I’m so lucky that the universe gave me you.”
He closed his eyes as you said that and you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. He slowly opened his eyes back up and kissed your forehead and then your cheek and then returned the kiss on your lips, making you laugh lightly.
“I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“You didn’t,” you replied as you tucked yourself under his arm, and your confidence in him made him relax his shoulders and tighten his grip on you all at once. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be alone when things are bad. You and I are sticking it out, long haul. Unfortunate for you, really, because I think when we get to our forties, I’m going to be a real brat.”
“You’re a brat now,” he quipped.  You could feel the laugh vibrate in Connor’s chest, and he enjoyed the lightened mood for a minute before getting a little serious again. “Could you see us being like this forever? Like, how we are right now?”
“In the tree-house? I mean, you’d need to insulate the walls and work on plumbing, but sure,” you teased.
Connor let out a loud laugh and tickled your sides, making you squirm and slap his chest.
“Not in the tree-house, but in some kind of house together. Or an apartment. After graduation, I mean.”
“Is this about me going away to college?” you asked carefully.
When your acceptance letters had started coming in, the reality of life after high school started sinking in for Connor for the first time. His grades had gone up exponentially in the last year (actually showing up for class would do that, apparently), but they weren’t going to get him into any of the schools you were applying to.  He was embarrassingly proud of you for getting into your first pick college and he honestly loved hearing you talk about what classes you were hoping to take, but the two of you danced around the fact that you’d be long distance when neither of you wanted to be. You were looking forward to meeting new people and having new experiences, but you wanted Connor right along for the ride.
“It’s about us going away to college,” he said nervously. “You know my plans were to go somewhere near town and get my grades up to transfer, but I did some research and there’s a community college not far from your school where I could do the same thing. And an off-campus apartment is actually cheaper than student housing, so I thought maybe we could find a place together. It’s completely up to you, of course. I genuinely wouldn’t be upset if you’re not into it.”
The fear that you wouldn’t want him tagging along with you dissipated as Connor saw you smile and your eyes light up as he explained his idea.
“Yes!” you answered without even having to think about it. “You’d really do that? Connor, our own apartment, I can’t wait! This makes me a million times more excited to graduate.”
Connor quickly pulled out his phone to show you some of the places he had bookmarked, and you were surprised to feel your eyes getting a little watery. Connor planning for any kind of future warmed you from the inside out, because you knew that hadn’t always been a given for him. The fact that he wanted you to be part of it was icing on the cake.
You rested your head on his shoulder as he flipped through pictures of little apartments with old kitchens and ugly carpets. You looked at the tree-house you were sitting in and remembered how Connor built something so beautiful out of nothing. He had a knack for that, you thought, turning your focus back to the boy next to you who was promising that a little paint and elbow grease would go a long way.
You couldn’t wait to see where the two of you would find yourselves next. You had a good feeling about it.
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