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looooooooomis · 3 years

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F I N A L G I R L | T H R E E

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t t h r e e | j e a l o u s y

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.3k warnings: angst tbh. and not the healthiest relationship but ya know what it’s billy so we persevere, unwanted advances, more angst x

I had a request for a jealous billy, so I hope you like my take on it x

That was the third time in the last thirty minutes that Steve Shit-For-Brains Orth touched you. Three fucking times. The first two times he was willing to look past but the third? Fuck no. The asshole, who was sitting with his clunky arm on the back of your chair, had not-so-casually rubbed his thumb along your spine, inciting a rather surprised look from you and a rather murderous one from Billy.

Of course, Steve couldn’t see the rage practically oozing from Billy, but boy was it there. Especially when you went out of your way to lean further into your desk as though to avoid his grabby little hands.

But that didn’t stop Steve.

Billy could see the frustration on your face as you fought to keep your cool in front of your classmates as his hand dipped beneath the desk to give your thigh a firm squeeze.

The same thighs that Billy’s face had been buried in just this morning.

All Billy saw was red as you pushed Steve’s hand away, muttering something to him under your breath before raising your hand to excuse yourself. With an anger so palpable radiating from his every pore, Billy watched you leave the classroom and thought of the various ways he could kill that fucker before you returned.

“Billy,” the girl, Sam, he’d been paired up with groused, “are you even paying attention?”

“No,” he simply said, barely hearing her above the sound of his own blood coursing to his ears. “Sorry.”

He wasn’t sorry, of course, only irate. The vein in his neck pulsed against his skin as his blood pressure skyrocketed. This was the type of thing that drove him to the brink of insanity when it came to having to keep the two of you a secret for the sake of his plan. It was bad enough that he couldn’t parade you around like he wanted to, even worse that he knew, deep down, that your little arrangement hurt you beyond belief – but this? Watching you get pawed by these dickheads all the while he was forced to take a backseat?

He couldn’t stomach it.

His knuckles were white from the grip he had on his pencil but even as he felt it splinter off into his palm, his grip never waned. Not for a second. It was either that or kill Steve Orth and, while that sounded great, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least.

Just as the pressure of the pencil in his hand got to be too much, you waltzed back into the room with your head held high, seemingly unfazed by the naked eye – but Billy saw right through it. He knew you, more than either of you would like to admit, and he could see the irritation as clear as day in those gorgeous eyes of yours as Steve smirked playfully up at you from where he sat.

Subtly, you gave Billy a gentle nod, silently talking him down from doing anything stupid in the middle of the classroom, before taking your seat yet again.

Thankfully, Steve managed to keep his hands off of you for the remainder of the class but, unbeknownst to both you and Steve, that assholes fate had been sealed. Billy might not have been able to do anything to him yet, but he would. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.

The bell eventually rang out and Billy, wasting no time at all, pushed himself off of his desk and walked up beside you. “You okay?” He asked, but his eyes were trained on Steve who was much too busy high-fiving one of his friends to notice Billy’s murderous stare.

“I’m fine, Billy,” you laughed, “he’s an idiot, but he’s a harmless idiot.”

“Harmless?” Billy’s voice was low and impressively tame considering the fact that beneath it all, his blood was boiling. “He has no right to touch you.”

Glancing over your shoulder you smiled at one of the other cheerleaders before looking back at Billy. “I appreciate the concern, Billy, but I’m fine.”

That casual tone of yours just about killed him every single time. It was a punch to the gut compared the woman he had all to himself behind closed doors. This version of you, this censored version, was just a part of the charade, he knew that much, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

The rest of your classmates slowly filtered out of the room, eventually leaving you and Billy alone as you tossed your notebook into your bag. That weighty stare of his was ever present, but you pretended not to notice in fear of someone walking in. Billy Loomis was a lot of things, but subtle, he was not.

At least where you were concerned.

“That’s bullshit,” he seethed, “someone ought to show that fucker he can’t just go around touching what isn’t his. He—”

“What isn’t his?” A bitter laugh tumbled out of your lips. “I’m not a piece of fucking meat, Billy. I’m not his, sure, but I’m not yours, either.”

You watched the muscle in Billy’s jaw clench and that vein in his neck that always seemed to swell whilst he was under pressure visibly strained and pulsed before your very eyes. “I didn’t say you were,” he muttered, “I just meant that he needs to learn some respect.”

“He does,” you agreed, “but that’s not your job to teach him.”

Leaning against the desk, he ran a hand through his hair and glowered across at you. “I could tell it bothered you, so why the hell are you defending him?”

You rolled your eyes and swung your bag over your shoulder. “I’m not defending him, Billy. Steve’s an asshole, we all know this, but I don’t want you to get in shit thinking it’s your job to defend me. I can look after myself, Billy. I promise.” With another futile glance towards the door, you reached forward and gently ran your thumbnail against his bottom lip. “Besides, you’re too cute for a fistfight.”

Upon dropping your hand back down at your side, Billy caught it and gave it a squeeze. “I can’t help it if I get heated about all these assholes. Look at you.”

“You can help it, actually,” you laughed. “Don’t engage, first off. And, secondly,” you leaned in a little closer so that your lips were dangerously close to his ear, “try to remember who it is I’m fucking at the end of the day, hmm?” You pulled away and offered him a quick wink before walking out of the classroom. “See you at lunch, Loomis.”

»»-------------¤-------------««

“All I’m saying is that if he didn’t want me giving sage advice to those renting a fucking movie, then why hire me in the first place?” Randy asked with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You, Tatum, Sid and Randy were all outside eating at the fountain whilst waiting for the other two idiots to join. Pushing your sunglasses further up your nose you smirked across at Randy. “Randy, you told the guy not to rent the movie. Your job is to make people want to watch these movies.” You popped a carrot into your mouth. “How you’re still employed is truly a mystery.”

“That’s the thing,” he laughed, “he fired me!”

“Shocking,” Sid chuckled, “what did you say when he fired you?”

Randy stole a celery stick out of your Tupperware container and bit down. “Nothing, I kept working. Fire me? Not on my watch. No thanks.”

With a shake of your head, you stretched out your legs on the concrete slab of the fountain and found Stu bounding towards you with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Did you guys hear?” He asked, swooping down to kiss Tatum’s cheek. “Our man, Billy, snapped.”

You froze mid-bite and immediately looked at Sid who had sat up looking concerned as ever. “What?” She asked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Billy and Steve, man,” Stu laughed and snatched a carrot stick from your stash. “The two of them got into it during one coach’s drills and Billy just,” he bawled his hand into a fist and slapped it against his other hand. A resounding smack echoed out around you. “Clobbered him, man. It was awesome!”

With your appetite long gone, you slowly swung your legs back onto the ground and pinched your brow. You were raging. Not only had the idiot ignored you by engaging with Steve, but he’d gone ahead and fought him, too.

“What?” Sidney croaked. “W-Why would he do that? He’s never been the type to just fight someone like that. Did Steve do something to provoke him?”

You chewed on your lip and stared ahead as Stu merely shrugged. “Don’t think so,” he stole another carrot and grinned at something in the distance. “Ask him yourself, here he comes.”

Your blood was boiling beneath your skin as you watched Billy casually waltz over to your group as though he wasn’t wielding one hell of a fucking bruise on his cheek, accentuated perfectly with a small, clean slice along his cheekbone that would almost surely scar. The fucking moron.

“Billy!” Sid gasped, jumping up to tend to her boyfriend’s injuries.

You, on the other hand, forever the other woman, remained dutifully planted on the edge of the fountain. Not that you would have tended to him in any way, shape, or form in that instance. In fact, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to add to the mess on his face.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, giving her hand a quick kiss as she gently observed his cheek. “Things just got heated on the field, is all.”

“You should see the other guy,” Stu beamed, “I hear Steve lost a tooth!”

Your anger swelled, momentarily blinding you as the rest of your friends laughed and asked for a play-by-play of events. Not quite trusting yourself, you pushed yourself up from the edge of the fountain wall and grabbed your bag. “I’ll see you guys later,” you hummed, not looking up at the bruised idiot in fear or snarling at him.

“You don’t want to stay for story time?” Stu asked, looking between you and Billy in amusement.

“Can’t.” Smacking on what you only hoped was a convincing smile, you shook your head and gestured to the school. “Forgot I had a meeting with Miss Wills about getting my biology grade up.”

Just before you turned on your heel to head back into the school, you just managed to catch Billy’s eye as he dutifully sat beside Sidney. She was leaning into him, gently prodding the scar along his cheek with a concerned frown marring her pretty face. He, on the other hand, was staring evocatively across at you with a small frown of his own.

Clearing your throat, you waved them off rather quickly before heading back inside of the school. You were too angry to care about how you felt the weight of his stare all over you before finally disappearing from sight.

»»-------------¤-------------««

You locked your bedroom door that night and closed your curtains to avoid rolling over and seeing the idiot that was currently plaguing your every thought staring back at you from the second story of your house. In fact, that was what you did for the next three nights all the while managing to avoid Billy Loomis as much as humanly possible whilst at school.

So far, he had tried on four separate occurrences to get you alone. Whether it was subtly nodding towards an empty classroom with the gang around or lingering by your desk after English in hopes of pinning you down for a chat, it was obvious that Billy was desperate to talk with you. To smooth things over. To move on from this rather ugly display of jealousy.

But you weren’t. And, honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to be any time soon, if at all.

A small dose of jealousy was only normal every once in a while. Not healthy, by any means, but a normal part of any relationship. Only this relationship you and Billy had was anything but normal. He had a girlfriend. A lovely, kind girlfriend who would have given him the world three times over if he asked. So just how Billy was the one with the audacity to be jealous made no sense.

Whenever you thought about it, you got mad. The injustice of it all was truly something you couldn’t wrap your head around. Just how Billy Loomis, the one with a girlfriend, could get jealous of a guy you were barely even acquaintances with really threw you for a loop. And yet you, the asshole who had somehow fallen in love with him, had to quietly take a seat and watch him dote over another girl in public.

Dote over your best friend.

Oh, the irony was delicious.

Tossing the book you’d been reading aside, you let out a quiet groan and closed your eyes as you heard the familiar jiggle of your window. It, like it had been for days, was still locked, thankfully, and your curtains still drawn in fear of seeing him.

The commotion tonight, was brief. He only tried for a second or two before you heard him meander his way back down to ground level. With an annoyed sigh, you reached for your book only to stop dead in your tracks when your doorbell rang out through your whole house.

Shooting up from your bed, you immediately lunged for the door and held your ear to it as your mother quietly complained about just who it could possibly be at this hour of the night.

Please be anyone else, please be anyone else, please be—”

“Oh, Billy,” your mother gushed. She’d always liked Billy. The traitor. “It’s awful late, is everything okay?”

Furling your brow, you pressed your ear further into your door and heard Billy’s deep voice say something – something probably charming – before your mother’s voice called up to you.

“Y/N, sweetie,” she beckoned, “Billy Loomis is here.”

You opened and shut your mouth several times over as you thought of your next few words. Somehow swearing at him from where you stood didn’t seem like the best idea with your parents in the house so, instead, you opted for the next best option.

You said nothing.

Holding your breath, you stood at the head of your room in nothing more than your flannel sleep shorts and tank top while hoping beyond hope that Billy would be ushered out of your house.

“I’m afraid she might be sleeping, dear,” your mother sympathetically cooed, “was there something you needed?”

Pressing your ear tighter to the wood, you barely made out the words ‘book’ and ‘homework’ before another sympathetic cluck escaped your mom’s lips. “And it’s due tomorrow?”

Bastard.

You panicked. His ploy was obviously to come up here and search for a book that didn’t exist all the while your parents carried on with their regular scheduled programming downstairs – but your parents weren’t dumb, nor were they naïve. Surely, your mother would offer to come up and root around for whatever it was he lied and said you had before she would inevitably have to wake you up in order to deliver the goods to the lying Loomis.

Your anger pulsed as realization dawned on you.

You had to go downstairs.

“Did you say something?” You asked, feigning innocence as you pushed your door open and made your way down, barely glancing at Billy who still stood in your entryway. “What are you doing here?”

Billy licked his lips. “I, uh, wanted to swing by and pick up the book for our English assignment. I think you must have grabbed mine, too, when you were putting your stuff away.”

“Nope,” you shrugged, “I don’t have it.”

Billy awkwardly smiled across at your parents before looking back at you. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you replied coolly. “Maybe you left it at Sid’s house?”

His shoulders briefly fell at your tone and, for a split second, you felt your heart fall into your stomach. You knew you were hurting him with the callousness of your words, but you had to stick to your guns this time around for your own sanity.

“Guess I must have misplaced it,” he wryly admitted. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs. Y/L/N.” His eyes flickered to you. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You nodded, prepared to watch him leave, but before he could get a foot out of the door, your mother stopped him.

“Wait, Billy,” she ran out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving you and Billy alone for all of three seconds before she shuffled back in. “Here,” she held out a dish packed to the brim with Shepard’s Pie. “I know your dad’s been working a lot of late nights so dinner’s might not be the most well-balanced, but a growing boy has to eat.”

Feeding the enemy. Typical.

“Y/N made it,” she bragged, unwittingly fanning the flames of annoyance in your chest. “It’s delicious, too.”

Touched, Billy grabbed the Tupperware container from your mom before glancing at you. He knew you could cook, you’d cooked for him several times in the span of your friendship – long before the two of you began…doing whatever it was you were doing – but as he accepted the container, there was an emotion there that was much too raw and real for you to try and decompress.

You realized, slowly, that your mother’s offering of Shepard’s Pie was probably the first time a maternal figure had paid him any mind since his own mother had walked out on him all those months back.

Your stomach dropped at the thought.

“Y/N is a great cook,” he agreed. This time, his voice was much quieter. “And thank you again, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

Once again, you watched him turn on his heel to leave the house but, with that niggling feeling of guilt twisting inside of your belly, you opened your mouth before you could so much as think to stop yourself.

“I’ll walk you out,” you muttered, flashing your mother a fleeting smile. “Be right back.”

Slipping on some shoes, you ignored Billy’s obviously surprised face as he lingered in the doorway before finally looking across at him. “Let’s go.”

The night was brisk as the two of you strolled towards his car in silence. You shivered absentmindedly as your pajamas offered no real sense of protection from the chill before glancing at Billy. Naturally, his eyes were already on you.

“Do you think your mother’s watching us right now?”

“Knowing her?” You shrugged. “Probably.”

He swallowed hard. “We should talk about what happened.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I know what happened. You saw Steve touch me and got irrationally jealous over it and, rather than deal with it like a grown man, you punched him and he lost his fucking tooth.”

A flicker of anger crossed over his handsome features. “It’s not that simple, Y/N, he—”

“That is probably the only simple thing about our little situation, Billy,” you acknowledged quietly. “You got jealous and you punched a guy. Doesn’t get simpler than that.”

“He deserved it,” he argued. “He’s a moron and shouldn’t have touched you. Do you know how hard it is to see that and not defend you the way I wanted to while it was happening?”

“Defend me?” You sneered. “Or stake your claim on me? No offence, Billy, but the entire male population of our school could ask me on a date tomorrow, and you’d have no fucking say in the matter. Whether they touch me or ask me out or anything, because you and I aren’t a thing.”

Billy chewed on his bottom lip as his grip on the Tupperware tightened considerably. “Yes, we are.” His voice was eerily calm despite the panic surging through his chest. “I love you, I told you that at the cornfield and I meant it. I fucking love you, Y/N.”

“You did,” you said, “and my feelings haven’t changed but you can’t be blind to the fact that this isn’t working, Billy. You getting jealous over me getting unwanted attention from a guy all the while expecting me to sit there and watch you and Sid flaunt your shit all over town?” You could feel your eyes begin to water as your emotions got the better of you, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. You wouldn’t dare. “I’m supposed to sit there and trust what you’re telling me. That you will break up with Sid, that you do love me, that, if things were different, it would be me you’d be with and only me. But one guy squeezes my thigh and you lose your shit? Where’s the fucking sense in that?”

“I fucked up,” Billy admitted, his bravado long gone. “I see that now, I fucked up. But --”

“But,” you scoffed. “See, there it is. An excuse. I don’t want your excuses anymore, Billy. I want you and while I thought that was enough, I’m seeing it’s not that easy anymore. Not if you get to act like this unhinged asshole whenever I get a sliver of attention.”

You watched Billy’s eyes search your face as his hands trembled. He wanted to reach out and cradle your face, you could tell that much, but – tale as old as time – with an audience, even if it was just a possibility that it was your mother, he remained still. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice shaky. “Please. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sosorry.”

“I just think we need to take some time away from each other,” you muttered. “For our own sanity.”

“No,” Billy argued, stepping towards you in desperation. “No, Y/N, I need you. Please don’t do this.”

“I think you need to either make a decision with Sid or be more open with me about what the fuck is going on inside of that head of yours. You can’t go around punching people because you get jealous, Billy. And, until you figure your shit out, I think we should stop this. Whatever this is between us.”

“It’s a relationship,” Billy’s brows furrowed in outrage. “Two people who fucking love each other is a relationship, Y/N.”

A sad smile broke out across your face as you stared up at the starry sky above you. “Two people who love each other but can’t show it. Who have to hide whenever people are around in fear or being seen as anything more than good pals.” You shook your head and met his frenzied stare. “That’s not a relationship, Billy. That’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.” You sniffed and gestured down to the Tupperware in his hands. “Enjoy your food. I’m going back inside now, and I meant what I said. We need some time apart so, please, don’t come around here anymore. At least not until…” you let the sentence hang in the air, unsure of your next few words.

“Until what?” He was clinging to your every word but there was an anger so palpable radiating off of him that made you take a small step back. “Until you decide that you don’t want me anymore? Walk away and leave me like my mother did?”

You cocked your head to the side and hoped like hell the hurt you felt at that accusation didn’t directly show on your face. “If you truly think I would do that, Billy, then we’re even more fucked up than I thought.” You sniffed and began to turn back to your house. “I have a lot of faith in you, Billy, and a whole hell of a lot of trust. It’s about time you showed me that same consideration.”

The raw emotion on his face was jarring and almost made you hang back long enough to console him like you would any other time, but you couldn’t. If he couldn’t trust you, what the hell hope did either of you have at this becoming a real thing? Walking back to your house, your heart broke and any emotion you fought so desperately to keep down began to bubble to the surface. But you wouldn’t break down though, at least not yet.

You always had your cards on the table when it came to Billy Loomis and it was about time that he started showing his, as well.

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kookicat · 3 years

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A Gift of Telling & Trust

Nate's words fade away and for a moment, they're all quiet, absorbing the story. There's a sheen in Sophie's eyes that looks suspiciously like tears, and Parker has curled into Hardison's side, resting her head on his shoulder. He's got one arm around her, thumb rubbing absent circles on her side.

Eliot clears his throat, feeling just a little self conscious, and downs the last of his long neck before he speaks. "Before… Before my Mom died," he starts, voice soft, reflective, because it's been a while since he dug up the memories, and he's not sure how they're going to make him feel. "I was twelve, Erin was ten. Mom had been wanting a puppy for a couple of years, and one of my friend's farm dogs was having a litter." He smiles at the memory and glances up, seeing everyone's eyes on him. He's not sure why, but it feels comfortable, and he feels the smile get a bit bigger. "They were seven weeks old on Christmas eve, all bitty black and white things. Only one girl, and we picked her and snuck her in the house. We'd saved up our allowance to buy food and such. She slept on my bed, and we put a bow on her and took her downstairs at the crack of dawn." He pauses, accepting a fresh bottle from Hardison, giving the label a quick check to make sure the other man isn't slipping him one of his weird brews. He's not sure he'll ever cleanse his senses of the last one- pumpkin spice and mint, for christsakes, but the bottle is one of his favourites and he twists the top off.

"What happened?" Parker asks, because she's an instant gratification sorta girl, but they're all still watching him, waiting for the end of the story.

"Well Mom fell instantly in love," he says, lip quirking into a smile, "Dad took some convincing, threatened to take the belt to me but I'm pretty sure he was smitten too."

The end of the story isn't so happy, and he's not sure he wants to tell it and break the spell. "They were inseparable. Mom named her Dodie."

"101 Dalmatians? I loved that book." Sophie asks, and he glances at her, nodding.

"What happened to her?" Parker leans forward to poke him and he bats her hand away, gently.

Part of him wants to lie and tell them a happy ending, but life doesn't work that way. "She was in the truck with my Mom when a drunk driver ran them off the road. They hit a tree. Both killed instantly," he says, and his voice only cracks a little.

It's a hard memory, but he's mostly made his peace with it. It's nice, too, to be able to remember his family and share that with his new one.

Sophie presses her hand against his arm. "I'm sorry, Eliot. I had no idea."

He covers her hand with his own, for a beat. "It's okay. Thank you."

Another memory sneaks in, one he'd all but forgotten about and he laughs, earning startled looks from the others that only make him laugh harder. It takes him a second to get control and he's pretty sure they think it's the start of a hysterical breakdown.

"I'm fine," he says, and waves his hand. "Just remembered something. My fourteenth birthday, Dad decided I was finally old enough to learn how to use the grill. Bought a big rack of ribs. Damn dog stole them from the counter. We spent half an hour chasing her around the yard but every time we got close, she'd manage to escape. I'd never seen my Dad so mad." He laughs again, then takes a swig of his beer, content to settle back into silence and just enjoy the memory.

They spend an agreeable hour, just trading bullshit stories about past jobs before they decide to call it a night.

He wakes up the next morning, more hungover than he'd ever admit, to find a black and white puppy staring at him from the other side of his bed. "What the hell?" he says and blinks, rubbing his eyes, convinced he's seeing things until a wet nose unerringly finds this side of his neck. He rolls out of bed, scooping the puppy up and heading to his living room, trying to ignore the soft brown eyes staring at him.

Just as he suspected, Parker is sleeping on his couch. The bigger surprise is that Hardison is curled up in the recliner in the corner, one arm draped over his face to block out the mid morning light. He's pretty sure it was Hardison's idea to break out the tequila. He's also pretty sure that they killed the bottle between them.

"Parker," Eliot says, trying to sound serious. It's a lot harder to do with a puppy trying to lick his face. "Parker!"

She jerks awake, and he blinks, feeling a little bad about that. "What?" she mutters, shoving her hair out of her face and stretching like a cat, all liquid grace.

"What's this?" Eliot asks, with what he feels is commendable patience, especially considering the marching band that's doing laps of his brain.

"That's a puppy," Parker says, like he's being slow.

"Yes, I know that," Eliot says through his teeth. "Why was she in my bed?" The puppy lays her head on his chest and sighs and he knows that if this gets out, he's going to have to blow up an orphanage or something to maintain his reputation.

"Because she wouldn't stay on the couch," Parker says and throws a cushion at Hardison.

The hacker jerks awake, flailing and the puppy barks. "I don't think she liked that," Hardison mutters.

"Why do I have a puppy?" Eliot asks, absently stroking the dog's head, surprised by how soft and fine her fur is. It's like silk against his skin and it feels nice. He's always liked dogs, but with the life he's lived, he's never had the chance to own one.

"Because they were going to kill her at the pound because no one had adopted her!" Parker says, just as Hardison blurts "Parker made me do it!"

Eliot rubs his face with his free hand. He's pretty sure he doesn't want to know the full story. He's also pretty sure he can't keep the puppy, no matter how darn cute she is. "Please tell me you didn't steal the puppy," he mutters and turns towards the kitchen, needing coffee and food.

He sets the puppy down, watching her as she sniffs her way around his kitchen, clearly looking for something. "You hungry, pup?" he says, and opens the fridge, pulling out a bit of roast chicken and almost losing his fingers to sharp puppy teeth. "Guess that's a yes."

He takes out the rest of the chicken, chopping it into smaller chunks before dumping it into a dish- though not one of his good ones, thank you very much-- and putting it on the floor with a bowl of water.

"We're sorry," Parker says, leaning on the door frame. "A puppy is a huge commitment and we should have checked first."

Eliot pulls the eggs from the fridge. "Have you been talking to Sophie?" he asks and sets a frying pan on to heat.

"Yes." Parker stoops, picking the puppy up and stroking her. "She did say a dog would be good for you."

Hardison joins Parker, reaching over to fuss the puppy. "I found a rescue that'll take her and make sure she gets a good home. We can drop her off later today."

The thought of handing the puppy over to someone else sends an unexpected pang through him. "You checked them properly?" Eliot asks, adding pre chopped peppers to the eggs.

"Have you met me?" Hardison says, voice full of only mostly faked offence. "Excuse you. Of course I checked them properly."

"Make some damn coffee," Eliot grouses at the other man. He's pretty sure they all know the damn puppy isn't going to any rescue. He has to admit, some nights it would be nice to come home to some non judgemental company.

"She's so cute," Parker says, sneaking a look at Eliot under her lashes. "Maybe I'll keep her."

Parker is proficient at many things, including keeping Parker alive but he's seen what she does to house plants and the thought of her being responsible for a living creature sends a stab of alarm through Eliot. Hardison is sharing the same thought, if the look in his face is any indication.

"Fine," Eliot snaps and portions the eggs with more force than strictly necessary. "She can stay here!"

He knows he's been caught neatly in a trap when Parker turns to Hardison, grinning. "Told you," she says and ducks when Eliot throws a dish towel at her head.

#leverage #eliot spencer #fanfic #parker #fanfiction #alec hardison #eliot gets a puppy

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writtenonreceipts · 3 years

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Thank-you for 100+ followers! Here’s a little thank-you fic, I so appreciate the the support. ~5.7k words. Rowaelin.

Sometime Around Midnight

Three years ago when he would have a day off, Rowan found himself hiking in the mountains. Two years ago when he would have a day off, Rowan found himself pacing the hospital halls.

Currently when he would have a day off, Rowan found himself at work.

He no longer knew what a day off actually looked like and that was fine with him.

“What are you doing here?”

Rowan looked up to see his longtime friend and co-bar owner, Fenrys come in from the storage room. He had a clipboard in hand, his gold-blond hair hanging in long, loose curls around his shoulders.

“Working,” Rowan replied. He wiped down the metal table before him where he’d accidentally upended an entire tub of maraschino cherry juice. Thankfully there’d been no actual cherries left so there wasn’t much lost there, but the mess was still annoying.

“Go home, Rowan,” Fenrys said. He jabbed the clipboard his direction as he came behind the bar and examined the on the floor stock. “You haven’t taken a day off in two years.”

“Not true, last week you and Lorcan forced me to go camping,” Rowan said.

“Forced being the choice word of that sentence,” Fenrys replied. He leaned back against the bar and examined his friend. “C’mon man, she wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

Rowan slapped the cleaning rag down on the counter and scowled. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

It didn’t take much else for Fenrys to surrender. But Rowan could see the mixed look of anger and disappointment in his friend's eyes. It was easy enough to ignore when one of the regulars came in and ordered his drink.

Rowan poured the man his whiskey, neat, and went back to cleaning up behind the bar. It was only eleven in the morning and it was already proving to be a miserable day. Especially given the fact that Rowan was haunted by that damn piano with it’s strange cadence. And even though Rowan knew next to nothing about classical music there was something about the way that the chords were struck that told Rowan someone one was sacrificing their heart and soul to whatever god might be listening.

And Rowan found himself wishing that he could be the one to say that he was there.

Not long after that, Lorcan came in for the start of his shift. It was a strange time, but he was taking classes at the local community college and the later afternoon and evening shifts worked best for his schedule. Not that Rowan minded working around his friend’s schedule. It was what he did. What they all did for each other.

With his ever-present scowl Lorcan shuffled behind the bar and pulled his shoulder length hair back into a bun. He greeted Rowan with a grunt and started on making sure there were plenty of clean glasses to be prepared for the rest of the night.

“You could go home man,” Lorcan said quietly as he leaned against the bar. “You’ve been working non-stop all week.”

All week. All year.

It all rolled together in one fat miserable existence.

Rowan merely shrugged. “Nah. I can’t leave you here alone.”

“It’s a Tuesday,” Lorcan said. He rolled his eyes. “What’d’ya thinks going to happen?”

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But if Rowan went home all he would do is stare at his phone, the tv, the wall. He didn’t sleep much anymore despite how exhausted he was. Besides, Rowan didn’t want to owe Lorcan anything.

“Shut up and go wipe down tables,” Rowan growled. He leaned down and grabbed a bowl of limes from a mini-fridge beneath the bar. He had a feeling they would need them at some point that night.

And hours later, he was right.

It was near closing time, one in the morning, and a woman with golden hair twisted into an intricate braid atop her head stumbled in. She slid into a barstool with easy grace and immediately ordered an entire bottle of tequila.

Rowan stared at her.

She was beautiful, there was no mistaking it. With her large, golden blue eyes, full lips, and sexy black dress that dipped into a sinfully low v--Rowan had a hard time looking away from her.

“You do know we’re closing soon, right?” he asked even as he lined up a few shot glasses.

“Shut up and pour,” she said.

Rowan was never usually one to take orders from someone else, particularly when that someone was out looking to get blackout drunk. And yet, when she stared at him with those sharp eyes and hard tilt of the chin, he decided that listening to her might not be a bad thing. So, he poured.

The woman slammed back two shots before snatching the bowl of limes he’d cut earlier. Without even hesitating, she began sucking the slices dry.

“Feel better?” he asked.

She flipped him off and grabbed a third shot. She didn’t seem at all affected by the tequila which in and of itself was a phenomenal feat. But Rowan recognized the drinking and the behavior for what it was. She was trying to forget.

One o’clock in the morning in the middle of the week and she was ready to lose herself to anything and everything.

“Riddle me this barkeep,” the woman said as she twirled one of the shot glasses between her fingers. “Why do men make promises they have no intention of keeping?”

Rowan watched her, somewhat concerned.

She truly seemed far to put together for a bar like this, a neighborhood like this. Far too attractive to be alone, even pontificating on the idea of being alone. And yet, as she downed another shot and sucked on another lime--Rowan had a feeling that this was who the woman really was. Confident and self-assured.

He poured her a glass of water just to be safe.

She scowled and glared at the offending drink.

“I do know how to handle my liquor,” she said. She gave him a pointed glare.

“Whatever you say, Princess,” he replied with a growl. “I’d just rather not spend half my night cleaning up after you.”

“You are a cranky old buzzard,” she said. Her full lips jutted out in a scowl and Rowan had a hard time tearing his gaze from them.

He needed to focus on something else. “Buzzard?”

“Your shirt,” she said pointing with a lime rind. “Those look like hawks. And hawks are assholes that pick and mother-hen everything. Buzzard.”

Looking down at his shirt, Rowan frowned. Indeed, the button up had birds in the design, but he didn’t think it was that noticeable. Or at least not enough to comment on. Even for a woman who most certainly was well on her way to getting wasted.

She grinned at his silence and plucked a cherry from behind the counter. Watching him, the woman ate the cherry and kept the stem between her fingers.

“But I really would like to know,” she said, “why make promises that you don’t keep?”

Rowan shook his head. Maybe he should just let her drink herself to oblivion. It would make it easier to call a cab for her. And he had a rule not to get involved in these deep philosophical-like talks. They never served anyone well.

“It’s probably just me,” she said, so quietly Rowan almost missed it.

But her phone buzzed from where she set it beside her. She glanced at it, laughed loudly, and shoved it away.

“Maybe I should try celibacy for a while,” the woman said. She stole another cherry and sighed. “Because this dating thing is not working very well.”

Rowan waited until she’d gulped down half the glass of water before pouring her another shot.

“You don’t talk much do you?” the woman asked.

Rowan noticed then the distinct tint of her eyes. Gold rimmed with blue. Or blue rimmed with gold. One of the two. Whichever it was it was distinct enough that Rowan had a much harder time looking away this time.

“I try not to mingle with the crazy.”

She gave an affronted huff.

“Or the emotionally distressed.”

A snort. She dropped the cherry stems into one of the shot glasses. “Cranky old buzzard.”

“I’m not old,” Rowan said.

She laughed at him, a triumphant sort of gleam in her eyes.

Rowan wished he’d carded her just to prove a point. But he recognized her now, at least partially. She’d come in once before months ago with someone that could have been her brother. Lorcan had carded back then. He carded everyone mostly so he could have a greater opportunity of throwing someone out.

The last time she was here this doom and gloom cloud raging over her had been absent. All she’d been was carefree.

She finished her water and nodded to the tequila.

“I think you’ve had enough,” he said, “besides, I should be finishing closing.”

Rolling her eyes, the woman picked up her phone--a call flashed on the screen and whoever it was had her grinning broadly.

“Dorian!” she cried into the phone with a happy lilt to her voice.

She was definitely drunk.

Rowan grabbed the dirty glasses he’d poured her and collected the lime rinds and cherry stems.

“Where the hell are you?” A voice demanded on the other line. Loud and on speaker. The woman made no effort to take it off speaker.

“Ugh, you’re too loud, asshole,” the woman groused. She tried to snag the unattended tequila, but Rowan managed to slide it out of her grasp. It earned him a pout, but he didn’t really care.

“Where are you?” the man on the other end repeated.

“The Cadre.”

A loud, very crude curse sounded. “Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning? This is how you get alcohol poisoning.”

“Buzz kill,” the woman sang into the phone. She grinned at Rowan. “You should come get me. It’s way past the bartender’s bedtime.”

She hung up the phone without waiting for a response.

“You know,” she said, “this place is so close to my apartment. But I never come here.”

“You must live in a crappy part of town,” Rowan said before he could stop himself. But she didn’t seem to be at all offended. In fact she laughed.

“If only you knew,” she laughed. Her demeanor turned serious and for a moment, Rowan thought that she might say something more profound, something that would help him better understand her. Because there was something entirely different about her. And not just the confident way she held herself or overtook a room. But something.

It wasn’t long after that when the door to the bar opened and a young man entered. He was tall with thick black hair and a lean build. He held himself well though and the well-tailored suit only helped exude more confidence. Or perhaps it was the woman at his side. She was shorter, lean, and had long bone white hair that curled in loose waves. Her golden eyes examined the bar with amusement.

“Dorian!”

Slipping out of her stool, Rowan’s once companion, ran over to the man with surprising agility for how much she’d been drinking the past hour.

“Are you kidding me?” Dorian groaned as he caught the woman. “I thought you were with Sam.”

“Nope,” the woman popped the “p” with a loud smack of her lips and giggled. “But I found another broody man to keep me company instead.”

The woman cast a bright, beaming look over her shoulder to Rowan. And in all honesty, he didn’t know what to make of it.

The man, Dorian cursed, and passed the tipsy blonde over to his companion who rolled her eyes and said something softly to the other woman.

Dorian approached the bar and pulled out his wallet and handed Rowan several bills. More than enough to cover the drinks and a tip.

Rowan glanced at Dorian more than ready to tell him off for whatever statement he wanted to make in front of the women.

“Thanks for letting her in,” Dorian said, his voice soft. There was such sincerity in his words, that Rowan accepted the cash without realizing what he was doing. “And making sure she was safe.”

Rowan shrugged. “I was about to call a cab.”

“Still,” Dorian said. He knocked his fist on the bar and backed away. “You’re a hopeless drunk Galathynis.”

“It fits, seeing as how I have a hopeless fiancé,” the blonde replied. She paused. “Ex-fiancé.”

The doors of the bar shut behind them as they left and Rowan followed after making sure to lock up. It had been a long night and he had no idea what to make of the woman who’d just left.

Once on a dare, Rowan shaved his head. He’d been drunk when he actually did the deed because being sober for the event was not an option. His fiancée had asked him to shave his head for her. No. That was a lie. She would have never asked him to do that for her. But he knew he should have. She would have loved it.

Two years after, Rowan still kept his head shaved.

If pestered about it, Rowan would just say it was easier and more manageable this way. Anything to get out of mentioning Lyria. Anything to get out of thinking back on her.

When he saw the woman from the bar next it was at the bar. At a decent hour this time.

Well as decent as the hours could be for a grunge bar such as The Cadre.

It was nearing ten o’clock on a weekend and all the usuals were there. Rowan expected it to be another regular night without anything exciting happening.

But then he spotted the woman with golden hair and distracting eyes come in. She was alone, again. But this time she wasn’t in a black dress with her hair perfectly braided in that crown along the top of her head. Tonight, she wore black leggings and a long flannel shirt over a white t-shirt. Her blonde hair hung in loose curls down her back.

And again—damn him—Rowan about found himself speechless. It wasn’t something he was used to. Not since Lyria.

“Well, if it isn’t the Buzzard,” crooned the blonde as she sidled up to the bar.

“Are you going to drink me out of tequila again?” Rowan asked warily.

She flashed him a grin. Yes. She probably would.

Because Rowan had learned a long time ago how to read that grin. Ferocious and cold. The kind of grin that would take no prisoners and show no mercy.

As she ordered her drink, Rowan quickly became distracted by the late-night rush. A college game had just finished up and post-drinking was required. Not to mention it was the middle of the summer and everyone seemed desperate for escape. Even to a place like the Cadre.

And still, all through the night, Rowan found his gaze wandering to the end of the bar where the woman had set up. She spent her time nursing a drink, taking shots, and declining any offers to join anyone.

“You’ve been staring at that woman all night,” Lorcan said, coming up beside Rowan. The broad-shouldered man edged a palette of clean glasses onto the bar and began putting them away.

Rowan grunted and looked distinctly away from her. He threw a towel on his shoulder and sidled past his friend to grab a new bottle of vodka from a shelf behind him. Lorcan rolled his eyes but said nothing. Nothing until the woman changed seats and came to an open space near the center of the bar.

She leaned against the bar and examined both men.

“Well you both seem to be enjoying your night,” she said dryly.

“It’s a Saturday with a bar of grumpy old bastards,” Rowan replied. Lorcan snorted back a laugh. Whether in agreement or making a statement, Rowan wasn’t sure. Either way, he’d make sure to punch his friend later.

“Then you’re right among friends,” the woman said. She looked so serious as she said it that Rowan almost missed the sarcasm lacing her words.

It was Lorcan who laughed first and helped himself to a tequila shot before pouring one for the blonde. She offered him a silent toast and downed the drink.

“I’ll get you another drink in a minute,” Rowan told her. He still had to finish a few orders for another table of some ass-hat executives at a table near the back corner.

“Okay,” she said.

And then she was swiping cherries. Again. Perhaps it was Rowan’s fault for leaving the container up on the bar. Rowan narrowed his eyes at her. She smiled; her lips stained with that saccharine syrup.

She said nothing else, but leaned against the bar with nonchalance and yet her eyes seemed glazed over as she watched people slowly filter out. It wasn’t that late, barely past midnight and a Thursday. Yet as the hype simmered out from the baseball game, the bar still remained busy.

As she nursed her second drink--despite the gleam in her eyes at the start of the night, she’d paced herself very well—the woman finally accepted a glass of water.

“I do not need any food,” she told him after he’d asked again. Her lip curled a moment. “Unless you have cake.”

“Cake?”

“Cake.”

Rowan stared at her. She puckered her lips.

“No,” he said slowly, “no cake.”

“Then no food.”

“You’re just going to sit here and drink all night?” Rowan asked.

“I’m in good company.” She turned those brilliant eyes on him and for a moment Rowan felt as though he were staring through the universe as it collapsed in on him and he were left bereft in that unknown sea.

And then she blinked.

“Besides, it’s not like there’s anyone waiting up for me.” She threw a cherry stem down on the bar with a scowled. “Sorry, I’m sure you love hearing about everyone else’s problems.”

Rowan shrugged indifferently, even as she leaned forward on her elbows to watch as he shook drinks for a couple a few spaces down.

“You’re the perfect bartender,” she declared, “you don’t talk, you’re surly, and that whole brooding bastard look is working really well. And I could say anything and not even faze you, couldn’t I?”

“Nothing surprises me anymore,” Rowan said. He delivered the drinks as he finished them and returned to find her with more swiped cherries while texting someone.

She quirked an eyebrow at him before finishing the last of her drink. She slipped out of her stool with much more ease that he would have expected.

“I wonder if you have it worse or better than the rest of us,” she said, smiling around a cherry stem.

And that image of her imprinted its self in Rowans mind long after she left.

Maybe, Aelin realized, she had an addiction. The kind that made no sense. The kind that gripped her with nothing more than coincidences and overthinking. One that didn’t even require her to consume anything other than the sight of one person.

And she did not like it.

She didn’t even know the bartenders name. All she knew was that he worked practically all the time at the rundown bar down the street from her apartment. It made sense that she’d never been there before. Sam didn’t really like the bar scene after all. Said it was just too much. And Aelin had known that. Hadn’t really minded it because they had other ways of spending time together.

But that damn bar was like a stain on her mind. It would not leave her alone.

So yet again she found herself there.

Too late or too early, she didn’t know which. What she did know was that she probably shouldn’t have gone to the bar. It wasn’t anything more than the fact that she really should be sleeping. Or pounding down Lysandra’s door demanding a last-minute slumber party and not taking no for an answer.

But here she was instead.

When he looked up and found her entering the bar, he gave her a trademark scowl. Aelin told herself that there was softness to his eyes. No brief flicker of joy. Just a scowl. Because she was a pain in the ass.

His silvery blonde hair was styled to stay out of his eyes and Aelin found herself desirous to run her fingers through it and see it messed up from it’s usual grace. He wore jeans and a non-descript black shirt. The style, combined with the lighting of the bar made his green eyes all the more vibrant.

“If you’re here to swipe cherries you can leave now,” he said.

“Just as cheery as ever, eh Buzzard?” she said.

He gave her a glass of water and left her alone for a few minutes. It wasn’t much longer until he came back and began slicing limes.

Aelin watched him work in silence. Despite his large hands he handled the knife deftly and cut perfect slices. Aline was tempted to ask him how he’d learned to handle a knife, but figured he’d make her drink more water.

“Can I get a real drink now?” she asked.

“No.”

She scowled at him. “Why not?”

“It’s nearly two in the morning.”

“So?”

He looked up and stared at her. His pine green eyes were unreadable pools.

Whatever he saw in her was enough for him to grab a glass and a bottle of whiskey. He set the items before her silently.

Of course, as soon as she got what she wanted she didn’t want it.

Again.

Aelin stared at the amber liquid in the carefully cut glass jar.

“Do you think we have multiple shots at happiness?” she asked.

The man grunted.

“You’re as interesting as your friend.”

“I’m not having a conversation with a drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” Aelin said defensively.

“You’re in a bar at three in the morning,” he replied, “besides, I don’t do soul searching conversations.”

“Oh of course,” Aelin said, “because that would mean actually connecting with someone. I forgot; men don’t do that.”

He scowled at her. “I barely know you. Besides, I make it a general rule not to cross the bar like that.”

Aelin ran a finger over the rim of the empty glass, eyes still set on him.

“I’m hardly a stranger, I’m here often enough,” she said.

“And yet I don’t know your name,” he said. He tilted his head just barely to the side and Aelin found that the angle exposed his collar bone. Black ink swirled along his tanned skin. She thought she recognized some of the symbols as Celt or some sort, but then he shifted again and her view was lost. Which was highly disappointing. He had nice skin.

“You already act like you do,” she said, finger still gliding over the glass cup. “Princess.”

He snorted, unconvinced and rolled his eyes. Aelin found herself grinning. She didn’t know what it was, but she liked being able to make him break that stoic wall of his.

“Aelin,” she said finally. “My name’s Aelin.”

He blinked those glorious pine eyes at her. When he said nothing, Aelin wondered if he would go back to ignoring her or whatever it was he did.

“Rowan,” he murmured, eyes still fixed on her.

“Hello, Rowan,” she said, “now tell me. What is your understanding of finding happiness?”

For reasons that she could not explain, Aelin found herself returning time and time again. She pried information from Rowan like she was trying to pull lies from a faerie. Impossible.

But how she tried.

She learned his last name was Whitethorn. His tattoos were in fact Celt. He co-owned the bar with a friend. All of his friends worked at the bar at one point or another, one night or another. He didn’t tell her what the tattoos meant—though Aelin had an idea of who they were about. Based mostly on what Rowan didn’t say and how easily he avoided certain conversations.

She learned other things too. He was left-handed. He had a dimple on one cheek. There was a freckle on his ear. He knew the words to most of the 80’s songs that blared on the speakers. He had secrets. He wanted to believe in happiness for one.

And she wanted to know more.

“You jumped out of a two-story window?” She asked in disbelief one night

Throughout the summer when she wasn’t at work or handing out with her friends, this was where she was. Far more often than she wanted to admit. Especially the fact that being here around him made Aelin feel...safe. And far better than that first night she had stumbled across this place.

“You would have done the same thing,” Rowan said. His eyes were far too wide that Aelin couldn’t stop laughing despite the somewhat serious nature of his story. “I’m pretty sure my Aunt has murdered someone before.”

“So you thought it was a good idea to break into her house?” Aelin sputtered. Tears of mirth were brimming in her eyes as she stared at him.

“I really didn’t want to streak through the college quad,” Rowan said with a grimace. “It was below freezing that night.”

Cackling loudly, Aelin took a slow sip of her plain orange juice. It was ten in the morning and she wasn’t needed in work until after noon. Oh the joys of a damned internship. It was better than the old place, but certainly not as reliable.

“Your turn,” Rowan said, pulling away from the bar as he grabbed a clean rag to give a general wipe down to everything. “Stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”

Aelin hummed. “I don’t know…”

He pointed a finger at her. “We had a deal.”

“Well when you put it that way,” Aelin drawled, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. “I accidentally started a brush fire out behind my house.”

“Now the question is if this happened years ago or last night,” Rowan mused.

“Buzzard,” she said.

“Fireheart,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes at him as her phone buzzed with a text and her boss's name popped up on the screen. Aelin sighed, knowing just what it would say. “Well, as much as I enjoy telling you all my darkest secrets, they need me to go in early.”

“Told you the plain orange juice was the better idea,” Rowan said.

“A lot less fun,” she muttered and dug a few bills from her purse. She met his eyes and smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

Her heart fluttered when he smiled, briefly, back.

When Rowan realized that Aelin was probably destined to never leave him alone, he resigned himself to that fact.

Really it wouldn’t be bad.

Not with her smile. Her laugh. Not with the insistence she had that he and Lorcan add chocolate cake to the bar menu or make the bar pet friendly. Not bad at all when she would come simply to talk. Simply to sit. Simply to be.

Until one night she came in, far too close to closing. It was too the point that Rowan had been about to lock up that she came up to the doors, reaching for the handle. They stared at each other for far too long before Rowan let her in.

He said nothing as she made her way behind the bar and grabbed the vodka and went to her usual stool. He said nothing as she took a swing, cursed, and drank again.

Despite everything that he knew about her--she was ambidextrous, her parents were dead, she loved playing the piano, she couldn’t her tongue--despite all of this he had never seen her like this.

This was different from that first night she came tumbling into his life, nearly six months ago now.

“I should be getting married,” she said after a third drink.

She set the vodka down heavily and leaned her head against the bar and sighed heavily. Slowly, Rowan came to sit beside her. The first time really that he had done so. They usually spent their time separated by the bar with enough distance that he could keep his emotions at bay.

Now, Rowan was far too close to her. He could smell the lotion she used, smell the night on her, see tears in her eyes when she finally looked up.

“Or, I would already be married,” she amended. “Married and on my way to Mexico, though I wanted to go to Ireland. I’ve never been and I think I have family still out there, but going to Mexico would be cheaper and warmer. But Ireland has the ocean too, and history, and…well it’s different. Apparently too different.”

Her words stilled as her chest heaved from everything that came tumbling out in too quick in procession like a piano solo that raged out of control and now that she’s finally caught up to herself, she doesn’t know where to go.

So she looked at him.

“He broke off the engagement without really telling me why, other than it was too soon and too much and everything else he could think of.”

The tears rolled slowly down her cheeks and she looked away from him, out over the empty bar with its scuffed floor and mismatching furniture. There was a bulb out over head that cast them in semi-shadows, enough that things feel quieter and gentler.

Rowan waited as she collected her words, her thoughts. He waited and remembered all the questions she’d asked him in the past about broken promises and happiness and everything in between. He wished he’d answered her sooner.

“Aelin,” he began slowly.

“Was I not worth it?” She whispered. Her words were aimed at the empty space. At the nothingness of the bar that reminded Rowan of how long the nights could get. “Was I not worth the fear and change of it all?”

Between the wondering of how they came to this and the wondering why she trusted him with her fragile words, Rowan was convinced he would do something entirely too stupid for words.

But when her gaze returned to his, Rowan found he didn’t care.

So he reached out, cupping her cheek with one of his hands. He could feel her tears on his skin and could feel how her chin trembled with restrained sobs.

“I thought, I thought,” she said. Her voice was ragged, abused and the words fused together. It was enough to make Rowan lean forward, enough for him to lean his forehead against hers.

They sat that way for a long time. Long enough for Aelin to get a hold of her staggered breathing and reign in her thundering heart.

Rowan remained silent not wanting to disturb the silence that settled around them. He ran his thumb across her cheek, catching all the tears that fell from her eyes. Aelin didn’t reply immediately. She merely closed her eyes and learned further into his touch. The soft sigh that left her lips was almost Rowan’s undoing. How long had it been? Only a few months and he was already enthralled by her and the way she had held herself together for so long.

“Aelin.”

Her eyes fluttered open and Rowan was convinced she could have petrified him with that gaze. The tears that lingered there only enhanced the gold rimming her pupils.

For a moment, Rowan thought he had overstepped his bounds, had done something she wasn’t comfortable with. Hell, he was just a bartender. Did she even consider him to be a friend? She probably didn’t even reciprocate the feelings that he had been developing for her. He made to pull away when she snatched a hand up to hold his hand in place where it still rested against her cheek.

Rowan’s heart stuttered in his chest at the movement and continued to stutter the longer they remained there. He wet his lips before speaking, knowing full well that it could potentially be a terrible idea. She’d never talked about that first night she came in. Never explained much about her ex-fiance or why they’d split up. And Rowan never pried. Mostly because he didn’t feel like it was his place.

“You’re worth all of it. All of it and more.”

He watched as the words sunk in, as she slowly blinked.

“You barely know me,” she whispered.

“I know enough,” he answered honestly. “You have a heart of fire. You’re strong. Confident. Unforgettable.”

Still clutching his hand, Aelin turned away from him, gnawing on her bottom lip. When she looked back at him, Rowan could see uncertainty in her eyes. The same uncertainty he felt in his own chest.

Rowan leaned forward, drawing closer to Aelin. They were separated by mere centimeters. All it would take was for Aelin to tilt her chin up and capture his lips with her own.

The uncertainty that had been in her eyes was wiped away with determination and she rose up to meet him with a firm press of her lips. Rowan could still taste the vodka lingering on her mouth as she opened to him.

Her hands immediately went to his hair, pulling through the strands. The touch sent a shiver of pleasure through him as his own hand wandered down her waist. They didn’t break contact as they rose from their seats and in a fluid motion, Rowan lifted Aelin onto the bar top.

Aelin arched into him as Rowan explored the planes of her skin with his mouth. There was something electrifying about this woman, about being so near her, kissing her. And he would be perfectly willing to spend the rest of his life doing this.

When they finally broke apart, both out of breath, they touched foreheads and merely stared into each other’s eyes.

Until Aelin hummed, fingers threading through his hair again.

“You know, you should at least buy me a drink first, Buzzard,” she said.

Rowan chuckled lowly. “Whatever you say, Fireheart.”

thanks for reading dears! my ask box is always open. I’m probably going to try and bust out some holiday drabbles for the next two weeks then move on to my other updates.

tags: @tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @bamchickawowow@ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan

#aelin #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin au #rowaelin #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #appreciation fanfic #thank-you #aelin and rowan

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debbiechanclub · 3 years

Text

“The Worst Thing in the World” - Matt Jackson x OFC

Title: The Worst Thing in the World

Theme: @12daysofchristmas Day 12 - Mistletoe

Fandom/Character(s): AEW/Matt Jackson x OFC

Warnings: Some cursing and sexual language, alcohol use

Word Count: 2,514

Notes: I’ve done it. I’ve caved and written a Matt Jackson fic. BUT I’ve done it my way *smug smile* Also, I’m honestly pretty pumped about this because it’s sort of a prologue to something in the works? And I’ll just leave it at that. Enjoy!

Find more of my fics here.

Tag squad: @champbucks @hotyeehawman @freshlysqueezedmox @comeasyoudar @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @librathepheonix13 @exe-sadboi-exe @gabbynorth98

“Do you think this is gonna be weird?”

Katrina felt her palms starting to get clammy as she and Violet got out of their Uber. She looked nervously up at the house in front of them, trimmed with festive bright white icicle lights that twinkled in the dark. Normally, she’d be all about a Christmas party with their friends. But the circumstances were a bit different tonight.

Violet gave her a curious look. “Why would it be weird?” she asked; and then she answered her own question as she shut the rear passenger-side door of the car. “Because we don’t work for WWE anymore?”

Katrina just nodded, the fluffy white ball on the end of her Santa hat bobbing with the motion. Violet frowned.

“It won’t be weird. They might not be our coworkers anymore, but they’re still our friends,” she reasoned. “Besides, it’s a blended party, anyway. You know Britt and Adam invited AEW people, too.”

Katrina rolled her eyes when she said that. “Don’t remind me,” she groused and started up the driveway. Violet followed, a cheeky grin on her lips.

“When are you gonna stop pretending you don’t have the hots for Matt Jackson?”

“I do not have the hots for Matt Jackson,” Katrina returned with a look over her shoulder.

“He thinks you’re hot.”

“What? No, he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does. He told me so.”

Katrina scoffed. “When? Before you sucked his dick back in Japan?”

“Actually, yeah,” Violet bluntly returned. It made Katrina stop and blink dumbly at her as they arrived on the doorstep. She smirked. “And I did way more than just suck his dick.”

The front door abruptly opened. Britt Baker and Candice Larae beamed out at them, drinks in both their hands, red sequined reindeer antlers atop Britt’s head and a green Christmas elf hat on Candice’s. The sound of Christmas music floated out from the house.

“Finally, more girls!” Britt proclaimed. “It’s a sausage fest in here.”

Violet snorted a laugh while Katrina bit back a smirk. That was an ironic turn of phrase, given what they’d just been discussing. Thankfully, Britt didn’t question what was so funny.

“You two look festive,” Candice complimented. She smirked at Violet’s black and red checkered flannel. “You and Page are twins.”

Violet gave her a surprised look. “Paige is here?”

“Wrong Paige,” Britt returned. But she didn’t clarify before she motioned for them to come inside. They all exchanged hugs and proper hellos, and then Britt took their jackets and the bottle of wine they’d brought and told them to help themselves to the drinks and food in the kitchen. They’d arrived fashionably late—which was, as usual, Katrina’s fault—and the party was already well underway. She’d barely taken two steps toward the kitchen when someone called out to her.

“Kat!”

Katrina halted. There was only one insufferable person who dared to call her that. “Matthew,” she gritted.

“Long time, no see.”

He pulled her into a hug. She reluctantly lifted one arm and patted him stiffly on the back. “Yeah, I wish it was longer.”

“That’s what she said.”

She gave him a cruel smirk as he stepped back. “I bet you’re used to hearing that.”

“I’m actually not,” he returned. “And I’d be more than happy to prove it to y—”

“Hey, stranger,” Violet interrupted at the perfect moment. She wrapped her arms around Matt’s middle and gave him a much warmer hug than Katrina had. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, I was just catching up with my best friend Kat, here,” he grinned. Katrina rolled her eyes.

“I’m too sober for this.”

She started toward the kitchen again—but Matt caught her wrist. “Wait. There’s someone I want both of you to meet.”

His hand dropped from her, and he motioned with his head for them to follow. Katrina exchanged a look with Violet, but she just shrugged and walked after him; Katrina expelled a sigh and did the same. He led them into the great room where most everyone had gathered. Matt’s younger brother Nick stood with Adam Cole and a tall, blonde man dressed in a black and red checkered flannel nearly identical to Violet’s. Katrina knew who he was, but she didn’t know him. She presumed he was who Matt wanted them to meet.

“Hey, guys!” Nick proclaimed when he saw them. He exchanged hugs with them both, as did Cole, and then the awkward pre-introduction anticipation set in. Thankfully, it didn’t last long.

“Violet and Katrina, it’s about time you met Adam Page,” Matt said. “Adam, meet Violet and Katrina.”

Adam nodded and tipped his beer toward them. “Hey, it’s nice to finally meet y’all. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Violet smirked up at him. There was a glimmer in her eye that Katrina recognized all too well. She wanted to climb him like a tree. “Only terrible things, I’m sure.”

He smiled a handsome smile. “Well, you’re both from Virginia, right? So you can’t be too terrible. Plus, you clearly have impeccable fashion sense.”

He glanced down at her matching flannel. Katrina watched as Violet fidgeted. Yup, she wanted to fuck him.

“I heard y’all had a pretty intense rivalry with Matt and Nick back in the day,” he added with a glance at Katrina. She grinned.

“Oh yeah, we totally whooped their asses.”

“No, you didn’t,” Matt countered.

“Did too.”

“Yes, we did,” Violet added.

Nick’s eyebrows arched. “Are you shitting me?”

“It sounds to me like this rivalry isn’t settled,” Cole grinned. “Maybe it should be revisited. Your non-competes are up soon, aren’t they?”

Katrina nodded. “Yeah. But as if the TNT execs would let an intergender match happen.”

“You never know,” Nick shrugged. “And even if we can’t make it happen, I’ve already told you that Kenny wants you two in AEW.”

Katrina’s stomach did a little flip. But then Matt’s voice cut into her thoughts like nails on a chalkboard.

“Seriously, let us know when your non-competes are up. I know you’re dying to wrestle me again, Kat.”

He fixed her with that shit-eating grin she’d come to know so well. Her eyes narrowed. “Again, I’m too sober for this.” She looked back at Adam. “It was nice meeting you, but I need a drink.”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll get along just fine.”

She gave him a smile and turned to head toward the kitchen. Violet called for her to get her a drink, too, and when Katrina turned to tell her alright, she saw that Matt was following her. She rolled her eyes and kept walking.

“Come on, I was just joking,” he said.

“That doesn’t make it any less weird,” she returned.

“What? What’s weird?”

“Are you serious?” she shot him a look as she grabbed two cups. “You don’t think it’s weird that you flirt with me right in front of my best friend who you’ve fucked?” She ladled out mulled wine from the crockpot on the counter into the cups. When Matt didn’t say anything, she glanced expectantly him.

“Not really,” he offered. “Vi doesn’t care.”

“Well, I care!” she proclaimed. “It’s weird, and you’re not cute, so.” She left it at that and grabbed the drinks to march back into the great room, nearly smacking Matt in the face with her Santa hat as she whirled around, a period on their conversation.

But Matt couldn’t leave it at that, because of course he couldn’t. “Come on, I know you don’t hate me as much as you act like you do.”

“Pretty close. You’re literally the most annoying person on planet Earth.”

He laughed. “Oh, literally? Okay, so you’ve met every single person on planet Earth, then? All seven billion of them?”

She stopped and turned to face him again. “You’re literally the most annoying person I’ve met, then. Far and away.”

He shook his head. “No, that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’ve met Nick.”

“Whoa!” Nick proclaimed, suddenly appearing before them. “I am not the annoying one.”

“Yes, you are,” Katrina and Matt simultaneously returned. Matt smirked at her; she scowled at him.

“You’re both equally as annoying as the other,” she clarified.

Matt’s grin widened until he looked like the Cheshire cat. “Well then I’m not the most annoying person you’ve met, am I, Kat?”

Katrina growled in her throat. If there was anything she hated, it was when Matthew fucking Jackson got one up on her. But before she could think of a scathing comeback, Nick cleared his throat.

“Uh, guys. Look up.”

They both glanced at Nick, curious, and then they both looked up. Katrina froze. Hanging from the lintel above them was a small bunch of mistletoe, tied up in a neat red velvet bow—and they were standing right underneath it.

She reeled back. “Sorry, I just threw up in my mouth a little.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on.”

“You two have to kiss now,” Nick said. “Them’s the rules.”

Katrina snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, not happening.”

“Why not?” Nick asked.

Her eyebrows arched high onto her forehead. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he returned. “If you ask me, I think it’s pretty obvious that you two have some pent-up sexual aggression you need to release.”

Katrina’s mouth dropped. One, that was ridiculous. And two, it gave her the willies just thinking about kissing Matt. He’d hooked up with her best friend! Multiple times! She stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye and shuddered. It was weird.

She looked back at Nick, eyes narrow. “Well it’s a good thing no one asked you, then,” she bit, and she stalked away from them, ridding herself of the disgusting thought of kissing Matthew Jackson.

* * * * * * * * * *

Thankfully, Violet had been right: the party wasn’t nearly as weird as Katrina had worried it would be. She was happy to see all their friends, and most of them seemed excited at the prospect of her and Violet going to All Elite Wrestling once they could. Which was funny, because they hadn’t really discussed what was next for them. Impact had reached out, as well, and they had women’s tag team championships, and Katrina wouldn’t be opposed to going back to Japan. However, judging by the way Violet had been making bedroom eyes at Page all night, it seemed like he’d already been added to her list of pros for going to AEW. That was fine with Katrina—anything to get Vi away from that Carolina Bastard she’d been hooking up with.

She got what she could of what was left of the mulled wine and decided to step out into the Florida room for a little privacy. Truth be told, she was buzzed and thinking about texting someone, half for advice on going to AEW and half for other reasons; but as she pulled out her phone, the sliding glass door opened behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and let out a groan.

“What?”

Matt stuck his hands into his hoodie. “Jeez, I can’t come see why you’re out here all by yourself?”

She scoffed. “It didn’t occur to you I wanted to be by myself?”

He pursed his lips. “I know you pretty well, Katrina. You’re a social drunk.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that he hadn’t used the nickname she loathed for once. “Page and Vi seem to be hitting it off.”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, gauging his reaction. As long ago as their Japanese fling had been, she had a feeling Matt still had a little crush on Violet. But if he was jealous at all, he didn’t give it away.

“I expected them to.”

Her eyes widened. “Like that?”

His brow furrowed. “What, you think I’m jealous?”

She smirked and looked back at her phone. “You said it, not me.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Really? Because I think you have a little crush on her.”

“Why am I out here, then?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, because you’re chickenshit and you know that Page is way hotter than you.”

He gave her a flat look. She let out a laugh and brought her drink to her lips. But it died in her throat at what he said next.

“You know, maybe Nick’s right.”

She lowered her drink to look back at him in shock. He couldn’t be saying what it sounded like he was saying. Could he? “What?”

He moved closer. “Maybe Nick’s right about what he said earlier, when we were under the mistletoe. Would kissing me really be the worst thing in the world?”

Katrina’s nose crinkled as she pushed her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. A smart-ass comment sat at the ready on the tip of her tongue; but, before she could fire it off, Matt was right in front of her. Close. Close enough for her to feel his body heat in the chilly winter air.

“Because, for the record, I don’t think kissing you would be the worst thing in the world.”

His eyes lowered to her lips. She felt her pulse quicken. Matt had never looked at her like that before. It made her feel… something other than aggravation toward him, for once. She blamed the mulled wine. But then he raised his gaze to meet hers, and her senses returned to her.

“You’re full of shit,” she dismissed.

He smirked, crooked and cocky as ever. “Oh, am I?”

“Yeah, you ar—”

He bent forward and caught her lips in his, cutting her off. Katrina made a noise of surprise into his mouth; but she didn’t pull away or stop him, and for a second he just stayed like that, his lips pressed to hers, unsure what to do next, as if he was just as surprised as she was that he’d actually kissed her. But then, slowly, he started to move his mouth against hers. His lips were soft, juxtaposed with the scratchy stubble on his chin. His hands found her waist. Her hand that didn’t hold her drink lifted to slide tentatively up his chest to his neck. He deepened the kiss, gently, testing if she’d let him in. She did. He tightened his hold on her, drawing her body against his. And then, unexpectedly, a breathy, muffled moan escaped her.

Katrina pushed him away like his lips had shocked her. She had not made that noise. Matthew fucking Jackson had not made her make that noise.

His grin was cockier than ever. “What, enjoying it a little too much?”

“It was the wine.” She pushed past him back toward the house, a scowl on her lips and a blush on her cheeks.

“Uh huh,” he smirked after her. “Sure it was.”

She glared at him over her shoulder. “This never happened,” she said, and as she ripped open the door and went back inside, she decided that kissing Matt was the worst thing in the world. Because she knew he was never going to let her live it down.

#12daysofChristmas #matt jackson #matt jackson fanfiction #matt jackson fanfic #matt jackson fic #matt jackson imagine #matt jackson x ofc #aew fanfiction

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chelsfic · 4 years

Text

Leftovers - Part 7 - Nandor the Relentless x Reader Fanfic

Previous parts: Masterlist

A/N: Well...this was unexpected. I wasn’t planning to go in this direction quite YET, but the characters had minds of their own...

Summary: While planning for the upcoming biannual orgy, the reader gets a lesson in seduction from Laszlo and Nandor finally surrenders to his desire.

Warnings: Smut, Female reader, Blood drinking, First time, Loss of Virginity

---

Nadja’s voice echoes through the house as she rushes into the library clutching a letter in her hands.

“Laszlo! Nandor! Colin Robinson! House meeting!”

Guillermo trails after her carrying the rest of the mail. Bills, a grocery circular, and a stack of computer parts catalogs addressed to Colin. He drops the pile on an end table and takes an unobtrusive position by the doorway as the other housemates start to file in with varying expressions of annoyance, curiosity and boredom.

You’re the last one to arrive, traipsing into the room looking vastly under dressed, as always, compared to the old world vampires in their elegant finery. Even Colin and Guillermo keep it business casual. You, on the other hand, are dressed in a pair of neon pink capri leggings and the USA Men’s Basketball jersey you stole from Nandor. The jersey falls down to your knees and the wide arm holes reveal the sports bra you’re wearing underneath. When Nandor first caught you wearing it a couple weeks ago he’d groused at you about disrespecting his belongings. But then he found himself strangely pleased with how his garment dwarfed your smaller frame. He rather liked the idea of his human wearing his shirt. So, he stopped complaining.

You give him a cheeky grin and flounce the bottom of the shirt around your thighs saucily as you flop down beside him. It’s been just about a month since the rave and since things between you and Nandor...advanced. You’ve started secretly thinking of him as your vampire boyfriend. You spend more nights in his coffin than you do in your own bed and you’ve both enjoyed the closeness that comes with sleeping in an enclosed box.

You’ve continued to touch, kiss, and explore each other physically. Your progress has been slow, though you’ve gone further and experienced more with Nandor than you ever have with anyone else. But he is being downright mulish about taking the next logical step. On the one hand it’s comforting to have a more experienced partner who is so willing to go slowly. On the other hand...you’re horny. And you can’t tell if he’s being considerate and cautious or if he’s being selfish and wanting the best of both worlds: sexy times and virgin blood.

You sit so that your leg brushes against his and take his hand, twining your fingers together happily. You probably look like a preteen with her first boyfriend but you don’t really care.

Colin Robinson grins and his eyes flash blue as he drones, “PDA! Get a room, you guys.”

Nandor hisses angrily and you roll your eyes. You spot Guillermo standing rigidly by the door and wave him over, patting the cushion on your other side.

“Memo! Come sit down for the meeting,” you invite.

Guillermo’s eyes flick to his master automatically and Nandor proclaims, “Vampires--non-familiars only, Guillermo!”

“What!?” you exclaim, slapping his arm. “Stop being mean to Guillermo!”

“Mean!?” Nandor scoffs. “I’m not mean to Guillermo! I saved him from being executed by the Vampiric Council last year, didn’t I?”

Guillermo nods, “Yes, master...although I did save you as well--”

“And I let you have the human giving thanks holiday off, didn’t I?” he interrupts.

“That was...three years ago…” Guillermo mumbles.

Nandor is gearing up for a full on hissy fit but Nadja interrupts, “Enough! Gizmo, go and sit with the human, you know Nandor is going to surrender to her eventually and I have news to announce!”

You smile in triumph and Guillermo reluctantly slinks forward to sit on your other side, eyeing his master over your head with a worried look.

“That’s strike one, Guillermo,” Nandor grumbles irritably, as Nadja takes over.

“I didn’t want to tell you until I had their answer,” Nadja smiles beatifically and folds her hands over her heart, “but I petitioned the vampire orgy committee and they’ve decided to give us a second chance to host the biannual orgy! I explained that my husband had been unnaturally deranged by some putrid blood--”

“Don’t you mean, betrayed by my wife?” Laszlo interjects.

“--and so we’re hosting it this weekend!” Nadja finishes, ignoring her idiot husband.

“Wonderful!” Nandor cries, dropping your hand and standing up to pace the room. “We’ll need to begin preparations at once. Guillermo, I’m giving Nadja permission to boss you around. It needs to be perfect this time!”

“Thank you, Nandor,” Nadja trills, obviously euphoric with plan-making already. “This time we’ll chain the virgins up, so there’s no chance for the cheeky buggers to spoil our fun…”

“Excellent idea, darling!” Laszlo praises, eager to show his support and avoid sleeping in one of the basement coffins tonight.

Nandor nods, “Yes, good suggestion, Nadja. Guillermo, you’ll bring the chains up from the basement...”

Nandor continues rattling off orders and you listen with increasing bafflement and alarm. He’s clearly giddy as he lists the “supplies” they’ll need.

“The sex net, obviously… the swing… assorted dildos… we should get a few Devil’s butt plugs, shouldn’t we? Those were popular at Marcus’s orgy last year…”

You turn, wide-eyed, to Guillermo and find him looking resigned and pulling a notebook from his back pocket to write this down.

Laszlo, Nadja and even Colin Robinson join in the discussion and they don’t seem likely to lose momentum any time soon.

Finally, you clear your throat and speak up, “Um...I’m sorry. So...you--all of you--go to...sex parties? Like, where you...have sex all--all together?”

God, could you sound more virginy? You direct the question to everyone in the room but your eyes focus on Nandor. He looks away with an uncomfortable grimace.

Nadja tuts and puts a hand to her forehead as she croons, “Oh my sweet, baby virgin! I have forgotten how stupid and innocent you are. Do you not know what an orgy is? It is like a dark, bacchanalia of the flesh… a joining of bodies into one, throbbing mass of pleasure. And it is a great honor to host it! Vampires from all over New York will attend.”

“But…” what you really want to do is talk to Nandor in private. Your mind is racing with half-formed concerns, but mainly you’re hoping your new vampire boyfriend isn’t planning to have casual sex with a dozen strangers after spending the last month refusing to deflower you because he’d rather preserve the taste of your blood than deepen your...well, what you’d thought of as your relationship.

But you can’t give a voice to these worries even if the idea of Nandor with someone else stabs at your heart. You don’t want to be the needy virgin. The silly little girl who thinks a 758-year-old vampire is interested in “going steady.” Are you being unreasonable? Are you being unrealistic? Are you being insensitive to vampire culture? All at once you feel tears stinging your eyes and you blink rapidly to clear them before anyone notices.

“I know what you’re worrying about, my warrior,” Nadja breaks through your thoughts. “But you’ll be perfectly safe during the orgy. Look!”

She poofs into a cloud of vapor, reappearing a few seconds later holding a pair of matching plain white t-shirts with the words “Do Not Eat” printed on them.

“One for you and one for Gizmo!” she exclaims with a proud smile as if this solves everything.

---

“So…” you start and then trail off, not really knowing what you want to say.

You’re up in the attic with Nadja and Laszlo, helping them sort through boxes with labels like “Sex Dungeon,” “In Case of Orgy,” and “Emergency Dildos.”

Laszlo uncovers something wedged behind the StairMaster and exults, “My darling! Do you remember this…?”

It looks like a dildo circa the Renaissance period, smooth and hand-carved with a leather harness attached. Laszlo throws his head back and his hands twitch excitedly at his sides as Nadja stalks up to him with a seductive smirk.

“Of course, I do, my naughty boy. And if you are good and don’t ruin this orgy with your moods then maybe we’ll have ourselves a nice little time with it…” her voice goes high-pitched and squeaky as she grabs the phallus out of Laszlo’s hands and strokes it along his jaw, bringing it up to his lips and squealing as he opens his mouth to run his tongue lewdly over the shiny, smooth wood.

“O-okay, I’m just going to give you guys some privacy…” you stand and start to make your way over to the stairs.

Nadja drops the dildo and calls after you, “Wait, mortal! You had something you wanted to ask?”

You stop in your tracks, turning back to the couple and taking a breath to steady yourself. You have to talk to someone about this.

“Yeah, it’s...well, Nandor and I haven’t had sex yet--”

“We can tell that very well, my yummy friend,” Laszlo cuts in and Nadja slaps his arm.

“Go on, little horny infant,” Nadja says encouragingly.

“--but we’ve done other stuff,” you continue, “and I...I have feelings for him. But the thing is, I’m not as comfortable as you all seem to be about...sharing…”

“Ahh!” Laszlo murmurs with an arch look. “And you don’t want a load of randy vampires diddling your man.”

“Right,” you confirm, heat spreading over your face under their scrutiny. “But he seems so excited and I...I still don’t really know if he feels the same way that I do…”

“Hmm, yes this is very tricky,” Nadja muses. “Of course...there are some vampire couples who attend and only pay attention to each other…”

“Bloody boring, if you ask me…”

“Shut up, Laszlo!” Nadja hisses. “Can’t you see our human needs us?”

“Alright, alright!” he says irritably. He turns in a small circle, rubbing his chin abstractly before snapping his fingers and pointing to you in excitement, “I’ve got it! It sounds to me like what you really need is a little help in seducing our warrior friend. Once you’ve done the dirty deed you can enslave him to your feminine wiles just like my darling Nadja did to me.”

“Good idea, Laszlo! Then you can attend the orgy together and if anyone tries to tempt him away you will do the whip on them!” Nadja declares with delight.

You’re not sure if she’s misusing roller derby lingo or actually suggesting that you use a whip on your rivals. Probably both…

“But he won’t have sex with me because he’s obsessed with my stupid blood…” you whine, plopping down on one of the boxes with an exasperated sigh.

“Trust me, human. With our help, Nandor won’t know how to resist!” Laszlo assures you with a self-satisfied grin. “Nadja, darling, get the projector!”

“Oh, no, Laszlo...she’s just a poor human girl. Don’t subject her to your boring pornos…”

---

By the time you come down from the attic you’re pretty sure the image of Laszlo’s orgasm face is permanently burned into your brain. And you’re not exactly sure how “Vampire Tricked in Steamroom” is supposed to help you with your conundrum, but Laszlo’s proud enthusiasm is adorable. Nadja’s words as you walk down the stairs are a little more helpful.

“Nandor is just thinking too much with his fangs and not enough with his penis. Use your natural talents--” she glances meaningfully at your chest, “--to make him realize his mistake.”

You’re not sure you have it in you to play the seductress like Nadja does. Still, your footsteps automatically take you in the direction of Nandor’s room. When you walk into the crypt you find him bent over a long roll of paper on the floor with a paintbrush in his hand and glitter stuck all over his head. He holds his work up to show you with a proud grin.

It’s a banner with large, bright, sparkly letters spelling out, “Welcome Orgy Guests!”

“What do you think?” he asks shyly. “Too much glitter?”

You blink and bite back a laugh at the sight of your fearsome boyfriend with his hair and beard covered in glitter. He’s smiling at you, revealing the wicked gleam of his fangs and you’re suddenly overcome with the desire to kiss him until you’re covered in glitter too. You stride forward, gingerly taking the banner from his hands and setting it back down on the floor.

“Just the right amount of glitter,” you assure him and then you hop up, wrapping your arms around his neck and trusting that he’ll catch you with his strong arms. His beard is scratchy against your face as you claim his mouth with yours, kissing and nipping his lips with a needy growl. Okay, wow--maybe Laszlo’s cheesy movie instruction has some merit?

“I knew it,” Nandor smirks. “You like the glitter, don’t you? Like Twilight!”

“Shut up, Nandor,” you laugh, stroking your fingers through his thick hair and angling his head so you can kiss along the edge of his jaw. You playfully drag your teeth against his neck and his whole body shudders in response.

Curious, you do it again and this time he moans low in his throat and gasps out your name. Your lips curl into a mischievous smile and you bite down sharply, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to bruise if he didn’t have supernatural healing.

“Gah! Human…” Nandor pants, walking you over to the luxuriously upholstered couch set against the wall and dropping down with you in his lap. His voice breaks as he begs, “Harder.”

You draw back, locking your eyes with his for a moment, your breath coming quick as you feel the stir of his hardening length beneath you. His eyes are nearly black with desire and he digs his fingers into your hips in encouragement and repeats himself, “Harder, my mortal.”

You bend forward, brushing your lips gently along the crook of his neck like always does before he feeds from you. You bring your hands to his collar and loosen the ruff of his shirt, pulling it aside and cradling his head as you sink down to bite. You’re tentative at first, somehow afraid of hurting him, but he growls in impatience and swats your butt with his open hand to spur you along. You increase the pressure, feeling his skin give beneath the blunt edges of your teeth and the cool, coppery taste of his thick blood spreading over your lips and tongue. You swallow it, lapping at his neck eagerly as he squirms beneath you and mewls in pleasured surrender.

When you finally pull away, your mouth and chin are painted an obscene red and Nandor goes wild at the sight. He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into a rough kiss, arching his hips upward so he can grind against you.

“Now, I get to taste you,” He whispers against your lips, shifting out from beneath you and kneeling on the floor between your legs.

“It’s not--” you’re out of breath and your head is spinning. “It’s too soon, baby”

He purrs at your use of the pet name and slides his hands up the outsides of your thighs, catching the waistband of your leggings and dragging them down your legs along with your underwear.

“There’s more than one way to taste you, my human,” he explains, pressing his palms to the insides of your knees and pushing your legs further apart. He drags his beard along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, scenting you with a pleased sigh. He scoops you up in his hands, pulling you closer to the edge of the couch and finally lowering his face between your legs. His breath is cool against your heated flesh and then he’s dragging his tongue along your slit in one long stroke that ends on your needy, throbbing clitoris.

“Oh my go--”

Nandor rears back, hissing, and you rush an apology, “Sorry, sorry, sorry! I forgot.”

“Be careful with that shit!” he grouses but then he’s dipping his head back down and attacking you with his mouth.

He’s gentle and thorough and--you think--very good at this. A few times you feel the sharp edge of a fang just brush against your most sensitive skin and you start to flinch away but he shushes you and strokes his fingers along your thighs to settle your nerves. His lips and tongue move against your clitoris in perfect, rolling motions that have you melting under his attention. You let your hands fall down to rest in his glitter-specked hair and stroke your fingers along his temples as he laves and sucks. When the mounting tension in your core grows to be too much you roll your hips up, grinding yourself into his face and twisting your fingers in his hair as you cry out.

Nandor climbs back onto the couch and settles beside you, watching with a pleased smile as you tremble and gasp through the aftershocks. He’s lazily palming himself through his trousers when you finally turn to him and press the full length of your body into his, capturing his lips for a kiss that tastes of mingled blood and arousal--both your essences combined.

“I’m ready…” you whisper, sliding your hands beneath his loosened collar and along his shoulders. “If you can possibly stand my blood tasting all ordinary and non-virgin flavored…”

You emphasize the last statement by edging your leg between his and grinding your thigh against his fervent erection. Nandor groans loudly and it sounds like a surrender.

“Yes…” he pants. “My human...yes. I’ll make you mine. But...but--” he growls in frustration “--wait a moment!”

He hops up, leaving you half naked and bemused on the couch as he darts around the room, locking the door, positioning a fur rug on the floor next to an ornate candelabra, and finally opening a drawer and removing a folded piece of paper.

He comes back to you, kneeling at your feet and handing you the sheet of paper. He watches with a gleam in his eyes as you open it.

Inside he’s written in glitter pen:

“Happy Deflowering!

Love,

Nandor the Relentless”

And there’s a drawing of you laying on a fur rug with an artfully modest sheet draped over your nude body and Nandor floating in the air above you, his cape flying out behind him and his fangs bared. Well...now you know he hasn’t been planning to keep you a virgin for all eternity...

You bark out a laugh and press the drawing to your heart as you look up at him and gush, “I love it, Nandor!”

His lips part in a light smile and he presses forward, taking your face in his hands and catching you with his intense eyes.

“I wanted it to be--” he frowns uncomfortably as he forms the word “--nice...for you, human. Perhaps we had a rocking start…”

“You mean with you kidnapping me, drinking my blood and treating me like a human snack pack?” you deadpan, but you dart in to peck his lips to show you’re only teasing.

“Yes, that,” he continues and his fingers are tracing light patterns through the hair at your temples. “But I...I do care about you, my mortal. For more than just your delicious blood…”

Finally hearing him say the words out loud starts your eyes misting and you set the drawing down on the couch beside you, reaching forward to take him in your arms and kiss his beautiful, stupid, warrior lips.

Nandor is remarkably quick at removing his layers of clothing. By the time you’ve shed your stolen jersey and squirmed your way out of the sports bra, he’s completely naked. Vampire speed. He kneels on the fur rug before you, his pale skin reflecting the golden light of the candles, glowing with second-hand warmth. You forget to be bashful about your own nudity as you drink him in. Dark hair covers his chest and trails down his stomach into the dark nest around his proudly straining erection.

His own dark eyes drop to linger on the lines of your body as he reaches out and draws you closer, laying you down on the plush rug and perching beside you. You draw your hands up under your chin automatically, but he takes them and draws your arms down to your sides, baring your body for his hungry gaze.

“You are more breathtaking than the Euphrates running red with the blood of my enemies,” he murmurs, brushing his fingertips over the peaks of your breasts and smiling as your nipples pebble under his touch.

You smile and shake your head, gazing up at this gorgeous man and feeling, for once, entirely worthy and beautiful in someone else’s eyes. You joined roller derby hoping to gain some body-positivity, some confidence--which you have. But still, you’ve never before felt so attractive and powerful. Nandor bends down to kiss you, running one hand along the line of your neck and letting the other roam over your belly and down between your thighs. He strokes through your still wet slit, spreading your slick and rolling your clit between his fingers until you’re mewling into his lips.

“You know…” Nandor murmurs, pushing your legs apart and shifting to seat himself between them, “there’s more than one reason they call me relentless, little human.”

The sound that falls from your lips is half-gasp and half-moan. He slides the head of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your arousal before finally--finally--pressing forward at your entrance. Even after a month of pining and yearning for this you still tense up at the final moment and Nandor kneads his hands into your hips with a soft coo, “Relax yourself, my mortal…”

He leans down to press a rough-stubbled kiss along the edge of your jaw as he finally slips inside of you and you feel, for the first time, the impossible and wonderful sensation of being filled by your lover as he gradually pushes deeper. For several seconds the pressure of him inside of you is all you can think about and it’s overwhelming. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, digging your teeth into the already healed skin.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, and there’s a distinctly vampiric edge of lustful curiosity that accompanies his concern. He’s rolling his hips against you in a slow, steady rhythm.

“Mmhmm,” you murmur without removing your teeth from his neck.

He slips a hand between your bodies and finds the hardened bud of your nipple with his fingers, rolling and stroking it as he continues rocking into you with deeper and deeper thrusts.

“Not for much longer,” he promises with a teasing pinch to your nipple.

His pace increases as the pain gradually ebbs into a delicious, burning ache that builds and builds. You throw back your head, keening each time he buries himself inside you. Nandor’s mouth falls open and he dips his head to run his lips over the throbbing pulse of your throat, feeling the rush of your hot blood beneath the surface and losing the steady control of his movements as he frantically ruts into you.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he cries, wrenching his mouth away from your neck and instead slamming his lips to yours with an anguished moan as he goes rigid, pushing deeper inside of you as his release tears through him. He jerks his hips several more times, reaching between you to put his fingers on you and coax you towards your own peak as he softens inside of you.

He finally slips out of you, collapsing onto the rug at your side with a heavy groan. He hugs you to his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin and humming in pleasure. His skin is almost warm with your borrowed body heat, but where you are covered in a fine sheen of human sweat, he is as smooth and unaffected as ever.

Your muscles shake with involuntary tremors and he strokes his hands down your back comfortingly.

“Shut your eyes,” his voice is a low rumble that you can feel where your head rests against his chest. “Rest, my love.”

The word sends a warm rush around your heart and you smile, burying your face into his lovely chest hair.

All your insecurities about the upcoming orgy are forgotten as your limbs grow heavy with exhaustion. You’re just starting to drift to sleep under the steady feel of his hands smoothing over your back when a sudden thought pops into your head.

“Nandor!” you poke your head up to meet his eyes. “Am I going to turn into a vampire?!”

He furrows his brow as he asks, “Why would you think that, human?”

“Well...I drank your blood…” you explain, relaxing back into his chest now that it seems you’re not on the brink of transitioning into an unholy creature of the night without warning.

Nandor laughs, “I would have to drink your blood first...almost all of it. And then feed you my blood. No, my human, you won’t become a vampire...not yet.”

You nod your head absently, letting your eyes drift shut without fully absorbing his last words.

---

A/N: ?????????

Tags:

@festering-queen @kandomeresbitch @strangestdiary @glitterportrait @scuzmunkie @redwoodshadows

#nandor the relentless x reader #nandor x reader #nandor #nandor the relentless #nandor imagine #nandor the relentless imagine #what we do in the shadows fanfic #what we do in the shadows #wwdits fanfic #wwdits #smut

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cinebration · 4 years

Text

Just Like Old Times (Victor Zsasz x Reader) [One-shot]

To celebrate reaching 100+ followers, enjoy this Victor Zsasz content!

Premise: You once worked alongside Victor Zsasz for a mob boss. When he left for Roman Sionis, you stayed behind, loyalty to your mob boss winning out. Until he betrays that loyalty, forcing you to call on an old friend.

Tagged: @strangeaddiction1306 (who gave me the idea!)

You and Victor Zsasz shared an affinity for knives. Well, that’s what he called those little things he used. You, however, had taken the ideology “Walk soft, but carry a big stick” to heart. Instead of little switchblades, you carried a machete.

Your signature style included a knee-length trench coat to hide the machete strapped to your thigh. There was a hole in the right pocket so you could yank it out quickly if need be, but like an old gunslinger, you preferred to swish aside the coat and unsheath the blade with a flourish.

Leonardo Acciai had only employed you as a favor to your mother. Unable to curb your violent tendencies, she had sent you to Leo, believing that if your violence couldn’t be exorcised, it could at least be put to use.

That’s how you became Leo’s butcher at sixteen.

Leo liked to take hands. Cross him, deny him—any poor sucker who got on Leo’s bad side lost a hand at the wrist underneath your machete.

You met Zsasz a few years later when he signed on as extra muscle. His self-cutting ritual of marking kills preceded him and fascinated you. He couldn’t help but like a person who carried steel as long as his forearm.

The two of you were formidable.

When Zsasz left for Roman Sionis, he asked you to join him. You said no. Leo had given you your break. You owed him loyalty.

Until you didn’t.

Leo called you into the warehouse in which he ordered the butchering. Despite the sweltering heat, you still sported your trench coat. The machete felt comfortable on your thigh, reassuring you even as you slowly compartmentalized your emotions. You were a professional. You had to inure yourself to others’ pain.

A young man, head hooded, knelt on his knees before the chopping block.

“You’re late,” Leo groused. In his fifties, his old-man irritation had set in early.

You didn’t bother explaining why. Even if he cared to listen, you preferred to keep quiet. You knew that a quiet woman was reassuring.

But a quiet woman with a machete and dead stare was terrifying.

“Let’s get this over with.” Leo waved a hand at Roberto, one of the two other men in the room.

The hood came off your victim.

Shock stabbed through your stomach.

Your brother stared up at you in terror, eyes wide, broken lip bleeding. “I didn’t do it,” he cried.

Roberto backhanded him. The slap echoed around the space. Leo liked the warehouse not just for its easy-to-hose floors; he loved the acoustics.

“I’ve known you since you were shitting in diapers, Tommy,” Leo said, craggy face creased with disappointment. “Stealing from me is like stealing from family.”

Thomas’s panicked eyes sought yours, pleading. Struggling to keep your emotions in check, you raced through your options.

Leo snapped his fingers. Dragging your feet, you approached, pulling the machete out from its sheath.

Thomas blubbered your name, thrashing against Roberto’s iron grip on his neck. With a snarl, Roberto kneed him in the kidney. You flinched as your brother gasped, wheezing. Roberto seized his arm and forced it onto the block.

“Because you stole from me and disrespected not only me but your family,” Leo declared, “you lose both hands.”

Sobbing, Thomas flailed uselessly against Roberto.

Leo snapped his fingers.

Stepping forward, you stared down at your brother. He was barely nineteen, enrolled in college to get a better, less bloody education than you did. He should never have been anywhere near Leo.

Your jaw clenched.

“Something wrong?”

You glanced aside at Leo, just out of reach. He looked at you patronizingly. There was a reason he had earned a reputation as merciless.

Like granite, your tongue moved. “He’s moving too much. I need Ed to hold his other arm.”

Roberto whistled. “I thought I was fucking cold,” he muttered.

Leo waved a hand at Ed, the other man in the room. Ed seized your brother’s free arm and forced it down onto the block.

Thomas’s sobs assaulted your ears. Your hand tightened on the machete.

Stepping up to the block, you gripped the machete with both hands. Thomas screamed your name.

You swung.

Blood spurted from Roberto and Ed’s exposed throats. Surprised, they let go of Thomas, their hands flying to their necks.

Leo leapt from his chair, hand reaching into his jacket.

Seizing Thomas by the collar, you dragged him to his feet, throwing him behind barrels clustered around a pillar supporting the warehouse roof. Thomas shrieked as you landed beside him.

Bullets pinged off the barrels, concrete raining down onto your heads as they ricocheted off the pillar.

“When I say go, run,” you hissed, pointing to the door through which you had entered earlier.

“I should’ve known,” Leo snarled behind you. “Sooner or later, you were going to bitch up and let your emotions get in the way.”

“Now,” you told Thomas.

Rolling to your left, you heard a bullet whiz over your head. Thomas scrambled in the opposite direction, heading for the door.

Leo spun to shoot him.

You threw the machete with a grunt.

The blade clipped Leo’s shoulder. With a roar, he squeezed off shots wildly. Roberto, bleeding out, weakly lifted up his own gun and fired in your direction.

Using everything as cover, you sprinted to the door, Leo screaming after you. “I’m going to fucking butcher you and your whole fucking family!”

Thomas’s fear crippled him as he ran. You caught up easily, seizing him by the arm and dragging him behind you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cried, gasping.

“Later,” you said. “We have to get Mom.”

It had been a decade since you had felt this afraid, everything out of control.

You did the one thing you could think of.

Parked outside of the Black Mask Club, you hunkered down in your seat, watching the front door and the alley. You waited nearly four hours before the sunlight struck the bleached-silver hair you were looking for.

Slipping out of the car, you crept up behind Zsasz’s as he climbed into the driver’s seat. You opened the passenger door and sat inside.

Zsasz lashed out in reflex, nearly hitting your face. “Holy fucking shit,” he gasped, gaping at you.

“Long time no see.”

“No shit. What the fuck have you been doing?”

“Getting into trouble.”

He grinned. “I like trouble.”

“That’s why I’m here. I need your help.”

Gold teeth flashing in the light, he said, “My help?”

“Leo wanted me to take my brother’s hands.”

The glee in his face slipped. “No.”

“I killed Roberto and Ed.”

“But not Leo.”

“He pulled a gun. Couldn’t get to him.” You swallowed thickly. “Can your boss spare you?”

Zsasz hesitated. You leaned back, smothering your hurt. You had been friends, but only because of work. Of course he wouldn’t risk it.

“Nevermind,” you muttered. “I’ll figure something else out. It was good to see you.”

His hand clamped down on your wrist, preventing you from leaving. “What did you have in mind?”

“Leo and Don,” you answered. Don was Leo’s right-hand man, the only person who could take over and pose a threat if Leo died.

Zsasz’s lips peeled back from his teeth. “I fucking hate Don.”

The plan was simple.

Its execution would not be.

This didn’t bother Zsasz in the least, which was part of the reason you recruited him. The other reason was because he was psychotic and trigger happy and ruthless.

“Roman wants this fucker dead anyway,” he said as you both waited for night to fall. “I can ask him for help—”

“No. This has to be dealt with internally.” You glanced out the window of the car. Your jaw ached from grinding your teeth together. “It’s personal.”

“Is Thomas alright?”

You arched an eyebrow. “You remember his name?”

Zsasz nodded, looking anywhere but your face. “Is he safe?”

“Yes. I hid him and my mom.”

“That’s good.”

Sunset painted the sky in gorgeous reds and oranges that you would have barely seen through the Gotham skyline if you had been in the city.

You cleared your throat. “How is it working for Roman Sionis?”

“Amazing,” Zsasz answered immediately. “Look.”

Unbuttoning his shirt, he bared his scarred chest to you. Fingers dancing across his flesh, he pointed out a handful of scars you had never seen before.

“You’ve been busy,” you noted wryly.

“Roman likes to cut off faces.”

“So I’ve heard.” You hadn’t seen Zsasz so ecstatic since the two of you had cleared an entire safe house of men with nothing but knives.

“He gives me a lot of work,” Zsasz continued. “You’d like it.”

You disagreed, but before you could voice it, a car pulled up to the gate of Leo’s sprawling estate. The driver rolled down the window, flashing his ugly mug at the guard. You recognized the profile and balding pate immediately.

“Don,” you muttered.

As much as you compartmentalized your emotions, Zsasz’s excitement was and had always been infectious. It thrummed through you, stoking fires you had forgotten existed during his absence. Zsasz knew how to have fun.

Reaching over your shoulder, he withdrew a submachine gun from the duffel on the backseat. Racking the slide, he peered down the iron sights, gold teeth flashing in the waning light.

“Last resort only,” you reminded him.

His smile widened. “Just like old times.” Cackling, he climbed out of the car.

The problem with paranoid men is that it’s easy to surprise the men they hired, but not the paranoiacs themselves.

With ease, you and Zsasz chopped through Leo’s security, severing carotids and slipping blades between ribs. Your machete bit into throats, running with blood down to your hands, bodies trailing in your wake.

As you converged on Leo’s office, you sheathed the machete and drew the pistol tucked under your arm. Following your cue, Zsasz swung the submachine into his hands.

Down the hallway from the double doors, you gestured to Zsasz. “Spray and pray.”

Gold teeth flashing, Zsasz stepped forward.

The bullets tore through the doors, wood chips flying.

Screams and the thud of heavy bodies filtered over the buzz of the submachine gun.

Sidling up beside the doors, you sliced your hand across your neck. Zsasz released he trigger.

Kicking the mutilated doors open, you sped to the right, Zsasz cutting behind you to the left.

Double-taps to the chests of men still alive.

You swept the room.

No Leo.

An icy chill snaked down your spine.

Pain exploded through your shoulder from behind, slamming you forward. Zsasz spun in your peripherals, shock on his face. You threw yourself behind Leo’s heavy oak desk. Head low, you checked your shoulder. No blood.

Thank God for Kevlar.

Zsasz threw himself beside you, back smacking against the desk drawers. “Are you okay?”

Gritting your teeth, you nodded. Numbness crept down your arm, reaching your trigger finger.

Zsasz withdrew a knife from his boot, made eye contact with you. You nodded.

“You fucking bitch,” Leo shouted. “You really fucking thought—”

Zsasz popped up from behind the desk. The knife flew from his hand.

It buried into Leo’s shoulder.

Leo snarled.

Rising, you squeezed the trigger.

Blood sprayed the opposite wall. Leo went slack, gasping. He looked down at the sucking hole in his chest, staggered.

Shaking, you holstered the pistol and slowly approached his supine form. Leo’s hand limply searched for his gun, panicked eyes watching you.

The machete slid free from its sheath.

Staring down into his face, you hissed, “I wanted you alive for this.”

You brought the machete down onto his neck.

It took several chops for you to hack his head from his neck. Roaring filled your ears. It wasn’t until you staggered back from the decapitated corpse that you realized the roar was your own voice.

Zsasz stared at you, awe on his face. “I like you better like this.”

Without control, you mean, you thought. Struggling to compose yourself, you surveyed the bodies on the floor, searching their faces. You frowned.

“Where’s—”

You pitched forward onto your hands and knees, white-hot pain sucking your breath away in your back. Zsasz slid forward, hand reaching under your arm. Yanking the pistol free, he fired.

Thump.

“Fucking Don,” he snarled.

You coughed. Blood flecked the floor in front of you.

“Shit,” you hissed.

“Fuck.” Zsasz hauled you to your feet, pulling on your shirt to check the vest. “It almost went through.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Zsasz forced you to stare into his dark eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s not the worst I’ve suffered.”

He refused to let you go. Giving in, you leaned on him, shuffling forward to Leo’s head. You stared down at the grotesque rictus twisting the man’s features.

“Does your boss like gifts?” you asked.

Zsasz’s teeth gleamed.

Despite his need for cleanliness, Roman was just as excited by the sight of you blood coating you as Zsasz was. Ordering Leo’s head to be placed on a spike, Roman all but kissed you on the mouth.

“You should have brought her to me sooner,” he admonished Zsasz.

Zsasz grinned in response.

“My own lethal eagle.” Roman laughed with excitement.

In the bathroom, you washed the blood from your hands, the water running pink. Zsasz entered the room, the grin still on his face. Helping you out of his shirt, he slid the Kevlar off your torso. Dark bruises were already forming on your back. You would need to wrap your ribs.

“Just like old times,” he said, his hands running over the marks.

“Sionis isn’t Leo,” you muttered, wiggling back into your shirt.

His silence drew your attention. Leaning against the sink, but still in your personal space, Zsasz let the smile slip.

You frowned. “What?”

“I thought about killing Leo before I left,” he confessed. “So you had no reason to stay.”

You didn’t know how to answer. Instead, you said, “You have some new scars to make.”

Zsasz’s voice rumbled low in your ear. “Want to help me make them?”

A smile twitched at the corner of your lips.

Just like old times.

#Victor Zsasz x Reader #Victor Zsasz #bop Zsasz #Victor Zsasz imagine #Zsasz #Zsasz imagine #Chris Messina #Chris Messina imagine #Roman Sionis #Ewan McGregor #birds of prey #bop #birds of prey and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn #request

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the-headbop-wraith · 3 years

Text

3 _ 42 The Land Time Forgot

Part 4 - Final

An extended time later, dedicated to the intense and unrelenting search for their friend, all of which resulted in no leads or inspiration to where he might’ve been hauled off. It was possible Arthur was still within the park, but it was also as likely that he was hauled out to a parking lot and smuggled away in an unmarked van. Vivi doubted those orchestrated events, given only one person was viewed dragging Arthur away. By the build they were larger than Arthur, not the same dimensions as Lewis, but enough muscles and mass to bully their thin friend into restraints.

Nothing positive came from Mystery’s searching. It was harder for him to track scent trails if a possession or shoe didn’t make direct contact with the ground or standing structures, such as plants or fences. Likewise, the cart that got away was speculated to not have returned to the park grounds. If he was not within the park, their search was near impossible.

The remaining three made their way through the Historically Accurate Old West district, with Mystery leading the way sniffing on the air or scanning the ground. By now, the park was nearly deserted aside from the work crews roving around, cleaning up the plots of ambient landmarks – in the case of the Old West ™ - they touched up bleached out paint on stagecoaches and trimmed back cactuses amid a gravel patch. Technical crews descended on the rides, to give last checks before the attractions shut down for the evening. Natural light faded away, permitting the intense lamps dotted across the park to award visibility to the current groups.

“This isn’t working,” Lewis noted. “We just have to go by the security offices and see about examining those cameras.”

Vivi sighed. “I know you’re right, but searching through all those cameras can lead us to the same situation. Trying to figure out where they went, after the train.” She paused for a moment and observed the work crews, expertly raking the gravel around a tall saguaro cactus.

Asking people if they saw a ‘lizard man’ driving a golf cart around, had warranted many obtuse gawks, gaggles, and some giggles. Most people thought they were acting out some sort of park gag or something, and a few others asked if a hidden camera was involved. People.

“It would be a lead though,” Vivi supposed. She gave a whistle, and Mystery whipped his head up.

“Better than nothing,” Lewis quipped.

Unbeknownst to the group, a golf cart rolled through the pathway of the Historically Accurate Old West district. The vehicle only halted when the driver spied the group from a distance, headed for the district exit. The driver wore a park merch hoody, and under the rustic eave of a shut-up memento shop, the shadows draped them near completely.

“There they are,” he muttered, exasperated. He struck the steering wheel, then pulled up the phone. The pale light of the screen traced across the lower features of his face, and a downcast frown. “Last warning. There won’t be another.”

Darkness pressed in upon the expanse of the storage chamber. The noises outside, the screaming and thunder of music rolled off an hour or something ago. There was no certifiable way to figure how much time passed, aside from the pins and needles prickling through his arms, and the claws pinching into his sides.

He didn’t recall when the golf cart lost power. It was motionless, and the steady drone of electric current – something he was accustomed to with car batteries – brought about an unnatural stillness. Like being stuck in a long abandoned, and likely haunted house. Arthur shivered.

No response was coming from the Allosaur. It remained dormant and stiff, some of its features became perceivable as the gloom molded around his senses. He couldn’t see it, but he could perceive the presence of its hull. And the cheese-shredder claws locked into his vest.

At this point, his vest must have been reduced to ribbons. He worked diligently for the past hour, with his wrists bent and knotted into his lower back. Through a grand deal of effort and shifting, cautiously biding his actions by the minute – fearful that any drastic movement might activate the machine (and then what he didn’t know, and he didn’t want to find out) – Arthur managed to haul his entire body up by a mere foot. But that meager amount of transfer set his bound wrists high enough to reach the Allosaur’s sharp talons, where he rubbed the thin fabric of cloth. He was exhausted and hungry, the circulation in his arms hummed. Too focused on the work, laboring to fix this latest fuck up.

The bind on his wrists snapped. Arthur wriggled, twisting his legs beneath him. With the Allosaur’s talons latched around his torso, he was forced to squirm upward. It didn’t have a grip over his shoulders, which permitted him to get one arm free. He hesitated, thus far the Allosaur hadn’t budge, and the servos remained locked. With a lot more twisting and more effort, he heaved his waist free—

And plummeted to the floor at Allosaur’s feet. The dust swirled around his head, and he sneezed. No response and no shift from the Allosaur. Movement. It was waiting on movement. If he could get his legs free, he might could outrun it.

As was suspected, the claws of the Allosaur feet were sharp. He rolled his legs over and, with some fumbling knocked the binds against the dagger claw of a toe.

Without warning the Allosaur shifted, the machine whirred to life. Arthur cringed down, trying to make himself as small and minuscule as possible. Damn! DamnDamnDamn! He winced. The animatronic creaked to life and took a step. It was moving… away? It didn’t notice him? Unable to see, Arthur remained stony and alert. The hissing hydraulics and low grumble of the mechanical dinosaur continued, becoming fainter as it roamed further away. It wasn’t coming back. Of course, it shouldn’t. The machine only knew what the puppeteer told it.

He grappled with the bind on his ankles, tearing out bits and chunks of the threads until his legs could rip the sash free. Then, he stumbled through the murk, up until he collided with the golf cart. He stilled upon impact, certain the machine would come thundering back with a shriek. That didn’t happen. It was called away, and he was fearful of why.

Where was it? The guy dumped it all in— Found it! He unrolled the magazine, and groped around for his phone. The screen lit up when he brushed it, and he was immediately thumbing through the contact list. Shit! He needed to get moving!

Arthur shoved the essentials back into his pockets, save for the magazines. He used the light of his phone to gather his bearings and began moving. “Pick up, c’mon,” he grumbled.

The third ring got a response. “Arthur!” Vivi screeched, “Where are you?”

“I’m in the Bahamas, having the time of my life,” he groused.

“Arthur…” she growled, over the line.

“I dunno!”

Lewis was in the background, yelping, “What ya mean, y’don’t know?”

“I didn’t write up a detailed map of where he took me!” He tossed an arm high, as if they could witness the exasperation. “I’m just calling to say I’m dandee, and also I hope you three are prepped for bagging dino.” He slowed down some when the noises of the Allosaur’s jog echoed ahead. He didn’t want to test its limits, or intents. “I think it’s got your scent.”

In the background flew some fervent discussion, Mystery barking, and Lewis proclaiming they are not prepared at all.

“Where are you?” Vivi returned.

“I. don’t. Know.” The floor slopped beneath his feet and he nearly tumbled. The Allosaurs reverberating march continued ahead, stinted by the curvature of the corridor. “I’m trying to get out of here, so I’m following the Allo. You guys should probably think of something, get to work. I’ll call you back here in a bit.”

“What’re you gunna do?” Lewis called. “Art?”

“I sure as hell ain’t gunna lasso the thing.” He had to slow down at the base of the slope and tone the voice down. Having the pitiful light of the phone didn’t benefit his vision in the abyss surrounding him, but he could make out the noises of… a metal creaking. Familiar metal creaking. The door. That was the entrance. “I’m gonna keep tabs on it, while I can. I’ll call you if anything changes.” He hung up, barring further discussion or argument to follow. Knowing Vivi, she wouldn’t waste time calling back.

The gate clinked, and a bar of light sliced through the barrier of black. The Allosaur’s feathered shape squeezed through the thin veil, its tail zipped out of sight. From a distance, Arthur pursued, cautious of moving through the entry too quickly. He needed to get outside and get his bearings, reconnect with the others.

It was a short ascent to reach the ground floor and the district pathway. The walls surrounding him appeared to be brick, and the ground cobblestone themed. Arthur hurried the remainder of the way out of the alley for cast access, and stopped on the curb to catch his breath. It felt good to drink in that fresh air, after hours trapped in the musty storage chamber.

Upon raising his head back, he choked on the air. Or maybe that was a bug, buzzing around. Or it was the fresh air, and the shock.

Across from him stood the Allosaur, stooped and snarling. That wasn’t so terrifying since it wasn’t facing him. What stole his breath away were the figures directly in its line of sight, those cutouts he knew better than anything else in the world.

They actually didn’t have a lot of time to prep.

The team was well on their way to security headquarters when the call came through. Arthur was all right, excited and out of breath but he managed to make a call. It was a lot to unpack, where to even begin? Then the Allosaur emerged from a narrow crevice in the castles wall. Lewis spied it first, and sagged Vivi by the shoulder before she could take another step.

Allo locked onto them immediately. It crouched down and emitted a low, deadly snarl.

Vivi leaned toward Lewis. “Maybe it’s vision is based on movement.”

“This isn’t a movie,” Lewis warned. Regardless, he pegged survival on not moving.

One of the golfcarts driven by the maintenance crews cruised by, like a tumbleweed sweeping across an old western set. The Mystery Skulls watched it go on its way and keep going; the Allosaur didn’t shift an inch.

Woof.

“New plan,” Lewis hissed. He began pushing Vivi by the shoulders. “Scram while the scrammin’ is good.”

At once the Allosaur flexed the talons decorating its arms and gave a grating growl. It coiled back, gears shifting in its spine and ankles as it measured out its weight. Before it could launch, a screeching theme song began playing… off at its side. The Allosaur shuddered, and swung its snout

Arthur was in mad dash across the pathway, phone held above his head. “Hey guys! Small world!” He gave a piercing wail when the Allosaur gave chase.

Lewis face palmed. “What’re you doing man?!”

A mock crystal display decorated the center of the pathway, with small multicolored chambers, and light glittering within. Arthur ducked into the small crawl space. “Buy ya some time!” He zipped through on his hands and feet; the display was built for smaller guests, with twisting tunnels and chambers within. The Allosaur got its head trapped at the entrance, while Arthur scrambled through the whole thing like a hamster.

“Guys got the control!” Arthur sprang from the exit slide, and swung his phone up high. “He has to be somewhere around here!”

Vivi cupped her hands around her mouth. “What doe she look like?” Lewis tapped her on the shoulder.

“Gotta be someone around here, watching – keeping tabs.” He ran over to a cobblestone wall and leapt onto it, adding some height to his impressive stance. He curled his hands over his brows and began scoping the area.

Vivi grabbed Mystery by the collar. “Go take care of Artie in case he runs out of lives.”

Mystery whimpered and turned his lips down. No, you can’t be serious!

“You got two pairs of legs he’s got one,” Vivi scolded. “It’s just a boring old machine.”

RAWWR!

“With teeth. Go!” She pushed Mystery off, until he got his legs working and galloped on his way. Then, she raced over to the wall where Lewis stood and climbed up. Lewis reached down and took her arm, he hoisted her all the way up to plop down onto his shoulders.

“Not seein’ much. Aside from a giant chicken chasing a scrawny worm.”

Vivi got into Lewis backpack and pulled out a uniocular. “The phone. He might see what our dino sees.”

“Only what the dino sees,” Lewis speculated. He began walking along the wall top, keeping his balance despite Vivi’s insistent leaning and tugging on his shirt collar. “Did Allo hear Arthur, or did our guy see Arthur first?”

“That’s a good question!” Vivi winced, and focused her attention the opposite way Lewis was facing. “Lew!”

“Present.” He reached up for Vivi, to stop her from toppling off. She leaned down over his head, took his chin and angled his view around.

“Over yonder.”

Lewis twisted around and did his best to align his view of sight, with whatever Vivi was fixated on. It wasn’t hard to make out, a vague silhouette fitted at a balcony of some tavern themed building. The figure was not paying heed to the surroundings, but focused on the softly glowing device in their hands.

“They could just be slacking off, and texting somebody,” he offered.. Vivi began slipping off his shoulders, easing down to the wall by her own accord.

The figure moved their interest from the comforting glimmer of their phone, and spied Vivi with Lewis, inspecting their stance. With a jolt, the person swung away and dove off into the gloom of the balcony – towards a door or alternative exit.

“Sure,” Vivi mocked. She tugged Lewis off the wall to ground level with her.

“Hey!” Lewis harked, “You won’t get away this time!” He started running, leading Vivi by the hand. She couldn’t help the sappy smile set on her face. Classic Lewis.

The door to the shop was locked tight. Lewis barreled into it and gave it a firm shake, rattling the plexiglass. “Damn!”

Vivi fixed her headband. “He’d have gotten away anyway, by time Arth—” A sound caught her immediate attention and she whipped around. The guy had tripped, or had fallen, or stumbled on something – point was he was sneaking off behind them. The guy twisted around and scrambled on the descending steps as they flopped about, trying to dart one way or the other in the failed retreat.

“You there!” she screamed, pointing.

The person pulled their legs under them and charged off, towards a cluster of maintenance workers repairing a short fence post and the frayed rope. They slapped their hands over their hoody, keeping it in place while they zoomed.

“You might as well stop running!” she hooted, taking pursuit. “We’ve done this gig a dozen times.”

“Huh?” A touch oblivious, Lewis spun about searching for his teammate. “I uh… yeah! It’s over for you now!”

The cloaked figure dove into one of the unguarded golfcarts and hit the acceleration. His first and only thought get away from these nuts; the last thought he had, and of miniscule importance, was the fact he dropped the phone somewhere.

It would be the most excellent of days if Arthur got out of this without getting snapped in two. He managed to gather some speed and distance on the mecha dino by taking a downward sloping path, which was open only to the maintenance vehicles and golf carts. The path was narrow, but didn’t pause the Allosaur at all in its pursuit; it did however force the machine to slow its movement in order to calibrate for the offset in its balance. That didn’t stop it from hissing and being a friggin’ terrifying attraction.

Mystery gave a yip and hopped the decorative little lattice fence and plopped into a lush shrubbery plot. The garden ran either side of the pathway and was aesthetic in its mission to conceal the vehicles as they roamed. Light flashed through the canopy of the grove, the patterns glittered across Mystery’s white pelt and flashed over his glasses. He gave a sequence of yips as he burst through the undergrowth.

In a breathy lunge, Arthur followed the pooch. “Getting that cardio, eh Misty?” The response was a bark. “Good tu hear!” He stumbled when scrambled off the clear path and into the thicket, his shoelaces snagging on the sinister crooked limbs.

The two burst from the brush, leaves flying everywhere. Arthur spat out a few as he kept pace, taking the left that Mystery tilted into. A small grouping of the groundskeepers halted work blowing leaves and trimming trees, in order to behold the scene. Up until the Allosaur crashed from the barrier of trees, a terrible shriek igniting from its sound system. They scattered with yelps and dives.

Mystery ducked and vaulted over metal guard rails, the scene encircling the zone displayed bright colored metal and cement. Arthur was above, scrambling atop the bars like some anime character in intense training. He slipped on the third to last and tumbled, crashing within the barriers. Mystery zipped back over and took his shredded vast sleeve and dragged him off behind a wall.

A few meters away, the Allosaur came to a halt and stood steely on the pavement. Slowly and with deliberate precision, its head began moving side-to-side scanning the walls and fabrication of the park, examining cement walls and decorative displays, labeling attractions and directions to rides. Nothing caught it’s attention, despite crew members racing around in the background and bailing the site.

Behind the wall, Arthur was struggling to calm his panting. A little black paw pressed over his lips. He frowned. “Where have those been, Mister?”

Mystery snorted.

“You!” Someone snapped, from the side. Arthur’s face paled and her jerked, knocking Mystery off his lap. “What d’you think you’re doing here?” The guy in a park uniform carried a clipboard, metal box combo – the same or near identical to ones used at the shop. This guy tugged at the communicator clipped to his shoulder, a garble of obnoxious static and overlaying conversations rolled through.

“Security! I got some kid here, snuck into the park.” He took his thumb off the transmitter. “Stay put right where you are. Don’t even breathe.”

Mystery grimaced, and brought a paw to his face. “Shh!”

“Dude!” Arthur snapped, on the verge of tears. “Shaddup!”

The guy blinked, clear astonishment radiating from him. “Don’t you dare tell me to shut up! You know how much trouble—”

A bellowing yowl cut him off.

“What was that!?”

“Fuck!” Both Arthur and Mystery sprang up and darted around either side of the guy, provoking him to whirl around like a top.

An instant later, the Allosaur clambered over the metal dividers of the ride entrance. Once it bypassed the obstacles, it swung its snout and all its teeth to the ride mechanic.

“Ho-shit!” The mechanic properly noped out and took a dive into the nearest shrubs.

It was too late for Arthur and Mystery, the two dashed down the ride dock. An open door to the side caught the hounds immediate interest and he shot in, followed by Arthur. Arthur flipped the lights off and shut the door, but there was no lock.

“Not like it’d use the handle.” A dull thump broke his fantasy of safety, and he looked over to the Plexiglas barrier that displayed the full length of the ride, the rollercoaster train, and the Allosaur glaring in. “Is… that bullet proof? Ya think?”

Mystery woofed. Does it really matter, ya think?

The Allosaur shoved its snout against the clear barrier, its eyes flashing ominously in the lights cast by the attraction twisting around it. A crack formed in the window, but the substance held firm. Snarling and hissing, it slammed its head and claws against the window. The clear material snapped in two, one portion warped and slid out of the frame. The Allosaur began climbing through, its jaws snapped inches from Arthur’s face.

He let loose an ear splinting wail and snatched up an empty Styrofoam cup. The projectile bounced off the menacing snout. Mystery yapped and dove under the Allosaurs line of sight, he stopped at the door and stood on his rear legs scrambling at the door handle.

“Are you nuts?!” he shrieked.

Mystery barked, his dogs ears bobbing. Enjoy your corner!

Arthur cursed and, following a grand deal of prayer, crawled under the Allosaur’s gnashing jaws. He was still crawling on his stomach, though he was very clear of the dinosaurs reach, even when he reached the door. With a flick of his wrist, the door popped open and Mystery bounded out.

The Allosaur twisted, its reading and interpretation code aware its quarry was escaping. Yet, it was confined by the shattered barrier. It wriggled, talons tearing at the control panel beneath it. Lights rolling throughout the coaster track blazed, and with a gush of hydraulics not from within the mecha dino, the train carts became active. The animatronic continued the fight to dislodge itself and renew pursuit, all before it had successfully wriggled lose. Its tail swung dangerously through the docking station, nearly taking off Arthur’s head.

Luckily he was spry and managed to stunt roll, following with a few rolls that relocated him far beyond the Allosaur’s range of movement. Mystery was galloping ahead, going for the divers end and the cultivated grove ahead.

With a final wrench the Allosaur tore the Plexiglas loose, and swung its shoulders free. It gave chase after the targets, lunging and snapping.

Arthur wobbled, nearly pitching over the side of the dock. The rollercoaster cart chugged into view on the leveled track, and he made the leap. “Mystery!” He whistled, and waved the dog over.

The hound wasn’t the dinosaurs immediate focus, he still cowered beneath the feet when it snapped out. On Arthur’s lead, he sprang like a gazelle and landed gracefully on the front cart. Then, the coaster hit the divider in the track and the Mystery dog lost his balance and spiraled sideways, off the vehicle and into the shrubs below.

“Whoa, wait! Where’d you go?” Arthur leaned over, searching the five or something foot drop. The divider activated a failsafe in the rollercoaster’s train cart, and the safety bar swung downward over Arthur’s arm, braced to the headrest. “Um?” At first, he mistaken the error as an easy fix. Pull the bar up and loose. But it was a safety mechanism, with a manual override in the control office. Somewhere. He jerked at the bar, even as the coaster train began up the steep incline that initiated the ride. “Fuck… fuck-fuck-fuck! Oh my fucks!” He tried to angle his knee against the backrest, the bar was really digging into his arm. “Feck-fo-FREK!”

Below, the Allosaur watched with perceivable agitation as the roller coaster train inched out of range. Unable to reach its target for the time, it swung away and sought out a new location to reengage.

There was no better option open to Arthur, but hunker down and brace himself. His mind ran through the threats and dangers, what sort of coaster was this? He didn’t see. The g-force could be enough to rip his arm off, he would be lucky if he only suffered a broken limb. Worse could happen, if he didn’t wedge himself down good and tight.

The coaster train peaked at the initiating drop, and Arthur nearly blacked out. A ninety-degree drop loomed, and illuminated here and there were the more prominent twisty-curves of the ride. He tasted blood, he either bit his lip or his tongue, he wasn’t sure which. The others, they had no idea where he was. There was Mystery, but where was he?

A pensive hiss issued from the coaster train when it paused and drew out the agonizing seconds. He patted through his vest and pants, searching for his phone. Then the train slid forward, gaining speed as the vehicle dipped into its full and unrestrained plummet. Its wheels rattled and the whole train vibrated. Arthur held on for dear life and shrieked.

“I say the guy ditched the giddup, and is somewhere mingling with the work crews,” Lewis theorized. He was waiting for Vivi to catch her breath, near a fence and a lush plot of trees. The acreage was mostly thick shrubbery growing beside a sheer and expansive cliff face. “Or, he could be hiding anywhere.” One hand cradled his chin, while he examined the fostered brush.

Some of the lights across the park went off for the long hours of the night, while others remained on to stylize the attraction for all hours of the late. And also safety ordinances with aircraft and tall structures. The intrusive lamps were not the same as the on-ride decorative colors and aesthetic luminosities which thrilled the riders.

“We need Mystery,” Vivi spoke, still gasping and hanging off the fence. “More importantly, we need to get that dino wrangled. It’s really thrown a wrench in the situation.”

“Yeah,” Lewis huffed, trying to blow hair out of his eyes. “It kinda doesn’t let up, huh?” He bent a brow at Vivi when she snapped her head up.

“I think something’s gone wrong. My Arthur senses are tingling.” She looked around. The scenery was placid, the maintenance guys doing their thing, not paying them any mind.

“‘Arthur senses’?” Lewis mused, with a smirk. “Is that a thing now?”

“I’m gonna start it, watch me!” She crossed her arms and nodded, affirming dedication.

“Look, I’m certain the Allo didn’t catch him, or Mystery.”

The careening thunder of the roller coaster ttain swooping by on a nearby, previously cold track, caught his focus for the moment. The churning rumble was no contest to the distinct pitch of wailing assaulting the evening sky, rising in intensity as the whole cart blasted by and then dying out as the coaster train shot out of an inverted twirl. Both Vivi and Lewis observed, deadpan.

“Technically speaking,” he began, “it didn’t catch him.”

Vivi fixed her glasses, cleaned them, then set them back on her face. “Somehow, I think this is worst.”

Across the pathway, the maintenance workers began diving and bolting for the cover of the landscapes they were working around or in. The Allosaur went charging through, a white blur right in its sights.

“All right,” she grumbled. “Allosaur two, us zilch.”

Lewis spun around and hoped the fence. “But who’s keeping score?” He bypassed one of the signs, warning of danger to bodily harm due to the coasters proximity. A slope eased down, to the low point the coaster would pass through. In the distance, Arthur’s harrowing squeal became more pronounced.

“Lew!” Vivi yelped, leaning over the first barrier. “What d’ya think you’re doing? Danger!”

He waved over his shoulder. “No worries! I’m a professional!”

“Of what?! Stunts gone wrong?” Vivi hit her fist to the barrier and winced. She wrenched around, the Allosaur gave a grating and ravenous snarl. “I’ve just about had enough of this!” In the chase of the man in the mask, or shroud, or whatever, they sped through the game zone. There were more food vendors within, along with pistol games that utilized water guns, and some that used projectile disks. If she had to, she’d go Rambo on that hunk of metal.

In the background, Mystery was still leading the mecha dino across the district. He dove under a set of que ropes, scrambling like a spider among the poles. The Allosaur came to a stuttering halt and swayed, its feet pawed at the ground as it sidestepped. Vivi shot by without a glance, toward the entrance of the arcade and carnie games.

While Vivi took off to initiate a fool proof plan, Lewis swung over the last and tallest fence, to place himself within the rollercoaster track lane. Above, the hurtling cart came whizzing through at a speed peaking on fifty miles an hour, minimum. Along with it, the terrorized passenger screeching.

“Hold on Artie!” Lewis sprinted, following the overhead track as it jerked and spiraled.

“Are you nuts?” Arthur howled. He was losing vigor, barely able to keep his legs within the coaster box. “NO! Lew! It’s too— AARRRRRRRRRRRGH!” The rollercoaster twisted and hurtled downward into a steep dip, the track cleaved through an alcove within the ground. When the full train passed through the chasm, it decelerated significantly – enough that Lewis could leap up and snag that last cart, without losing a hand or being belted aside like a ragdoll.

“Hah! Nailed it—” Lewis nearly missed latching onto the safety bar, a fraction before the whole train flew into a sharp series of loops. Once again, the coaster is off on its bullshit, accelerating to sixty-five or something miles per hour, diving and curving.

Whenever the coaster calmed down for a sporadic pause, Lewis inched up a cart. It was tedious, as the cart dividers were somewhat sleek and slippery from being cleaned. The full body braces assisted, in that they were sturdy and didn’t unhook.

“Don’t worry, I’m here!” Lewis proclaimed, when he at last reached Arthur.

Arthur glared back as the coaster inched its way up the steep climb, back at square one. “WHY! Didn’t you just shut off the coaster?”

The grin on Lewis’ face dissolved. “Um, well, that might’ve been a worthwhile option….”

“You meathead!”

“Hey, I’m not the mechanic here!”

Once more, Arthur fought at his arm trapped in the brace. “We’re both gunna DAI, and then we’ll be the latest attractions for this park!”

“Think positive, Artie!” Lewis climbed onto the first and foremost train cart and gave the device a quick look over.

“It’s jammed!” He tried to squeeze down, and jam his elbow under the brace. However, he was short on energy to supply, and flopped sideways when he lost his footing. Lewis wrapped an arm around his shoulder and grabbed ahold of the brace.

“Take it easy, I’ll get you off.” The coaster came to the topmost of its track and paused. Lewis frowned. “Darn.”

“Trust me,” Arthur wheezed, “The first nine times, and you get used to it.” They flew into the drop, and Arthur was pretty certain Lewis was clinging to him so he wouldn’t get thrown off. “Fun, eh?!”

“We’re gunna DAI!”

“That’s the spirit!” Arthur cackled.

The coaster accelerated into a chute and eased off the speed, but it rumbled on with sinister purpose. Lewis released his grip on Arthur. “Brace yourself!”

Before Arthur could inquire why, or really prepare, Lewis smashed his knee against the brace forcing the bar down hard against Arthur’s already strained arm. A pitiful creaking lurched from Arthur’s gullet as the pain zipped through his arm.

“Sorry! Had to reset the mechanism,” Lewis huffed. He shoved the bar up and out of the way, but doubled down on restraining Arthur to the coaster cart, as the train swung into another reckless dive. His sneakers skipped across the slippery metal plate of the floor, while the coaster vibrated along the tracks.

Down below, one of the canopies for the prize corner loomed. It was the basket hoop toss, and there was a sizable net stretched between the poles on the three sides.

Lewis didn’t get the chance to warn Arthur. His shoe already snapped loose, and it was either get flung like a marionette or choose a landing pad. The support of the roller coaster whistled by his ear, he wasn’t really certain if they would hit the mark he aimed for – given the velocity and trajectory of the coaster’s movement. It was swinging into a turn, gaining momentum. Arthur tried to get out some other sort of noise, but he was likely still stunned from his arm that he couldn’t generate the sort of sound appropriate to free flight.

The entire basketball court collapsed when Lewis hit the bar, which suspended one side of the nets. Fortunately, he and Arthur tumbled into the prize corral beneath, among the giant stuffed toys and packaged sport balls. A cacophony of squeaks and deflating balloons, among the toppled metal bars punctuated all ambition for recovery.

“Ow….” Arthur groaned. “Lew. Why?”

“I just wanted off,” he moaned. “No matter the cost.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Ask me in the morning.”

“Lew.”

“Hunh?”

“If it’s not too much trouble… could you get off me?”

It took several agonizing minutes for the two to untangle from the knotted snare, the mountain of cushy prizes, and each other; all in near total darkness. Aside from a lamp gleaming down on the side of the coaster, and it whooshing by periodically and rattling around the tracks, they might’ve lost track of where they’d dropped. Lewis dragged Arthur out by the collar of his vest, some of the netting remained snagged on his scrawny limbs.

“C’mon Art, use your feet.”

“I have been running… for five years now.” He caught himself on his fists, before his nose could smack the pavement. “Wha’s that?”

A blazing shape zigzagged around the faux tents of carnie games, speeding as it closed in on Lewis and Arthur. At last it came in for a landing, skidding right into Arthur’s face. Lewis knelt and pet the dog.

“Wait,” the taller figure said, a flash of worry in his face. “Wait-wait-wait… last I saw you—”

The harking cry of the Allosaur obliterated through the screech of the roller coaster surging through, one more. It’s head twitched and the talons on its fists opened, another peeling shriek plunged through the open air as it lunged, teeth glistening..

Arthur yelped and flipped over, fighting with his sneakers tangled in the net still. Lewis snatched up one of the basketballs and threw it at the Allosaur with all his might, the force and speed would’ve been something to admire. The sports ball merely deflected off the dinosaurs hard plastic frame. Arthur yowled and held Mystery tight—

“KII-YAHH!”

Everyone dove to the side, Lewis one way and Arthur with Mystery to the other. The Allosaur kept going, but it was stumbling and its feet came down in a frenzy when it lost all balance. In a fumbled miss step, the animatronic stalled and spun three times then came down in a heap beside the netted basket hoop tangle.

Likewise, Vivi was still spinning, the bat clasped in her hands whizzing through the air before she crashed into one of the awning shields tied over a carnival game.

“Vivi!” Lewis leapt out from behind the wall he took shelter beside, recoiling immediately when the Allosaur’s head skid into the corner of the solid barrier.

“Did you see that!” Vivi whooped. She jumped up and swung the bat again, like a pro-pitcher. “Lew, you were all ‘I’m gunna wrestle this dino crocodile Dun-Dee style!’ And Arthur, you’re legs got all tangled! What the heck?” She mimed out another thunder-bashing swing. “And I was like, ‘Don’t touch my dog!’ Wham!”

Arthur poked his head up from behind a stage set, Mystery latched to his skull like a koala. “Holy shit.”

Lewis gawked. “I think I’m in love.”

Arthur inched around and prodded the mechanical head with his foot. “Gimmie a break. All this time, we just had to release Vivi on it with a baseball bat. Really?”

“Well,” Lewis chuckled, “you did say the metal wasn’t very sustancial.” He stood by and let Arthur beat the living bolts out of the inactive mechanical head. “Guess it was all bark, and not bite.”

Woof. Mystery let go of Arthur and dropped to the pavement. He moved aside of the drama and flopped over. Gimmie five minutes, folks.

“Should you really be messing with that thing?” Lewis muttered. He took a full step back.

“I’m gonna get my kicks in!”

“Hey! Are you listening to me!” Vivi hurried over. “But seriously, you three okay? Mystery? All puppered out?” She leaned low using the bat as a cane, and gave the poor pooch a well-deserved head rub. “You had us worried, Artie. It’s a good thing you managed to get loose.”

The dino head stuttered, the jaw quivered and the mechanical eyes twitched. Arthur jolted and scrambled behind Lewis.

“You know how the movies go,” Lewis mentioned.

Arthur peeked out. “This isn’t a movie. It should’ve shut down completely, with the power source severed.” He noted Lewis had a vacant and very concerned stare, and followed the line of sight to where the Allosaur was squirming. Trying to stand, with no head. “Welp, that looks horrifying!”

Whatever calibrated the Allosaur’s balance was gone, and also it shuffled sideways onto the collapsed basket court netting. The talons couldn’t coordinate and untangle from the woven netting, forcing the thing to topple sideways over and over.

“I… guess it’s not going anywhere?” Lewis speculated.

“But did you see me? Wasn’t that amazing? I never swung so hard in my whole damn life!” Vivi threw herself at Lewis, and he caught her in his arms.

“I was a bit preoccupied with not getting trampled. But yeah, that was something else!” Lewis was about to pull Vivi in closer, but his attention snapped to a figure a distance from their gathering. A secluded, isolated figure strategically placed within the shade of the arcade patio, sifting through the gloom only enough to view the fate of the Allosaur.

When he refocused altogether, Vivi’s curiosity searched for the cause. She frowned when her eyes alit on the same suspect. “Let’s see if we can get around him and—” The spectator either got wise to their sudden shift in mood, or freaked out completely on the loss of their asset. They took off.

Vivi tore out of Lewis’ arms and snatched up the bat. Losing no time, she darted around the corny carnival tent stations. “I’ve had it with you!” She lined up with the guy, still barred on one side by the boarder of the shuttered-up arcade wall. There was no time to waste. With a decisive swing, the bat went whirling through the air like a saw.

And cracked the wall short of her target. The guy kept running, but cast a fretful look over their shoulder.

“Drat!”

Lewis charged up behind her, winding back his arm. “My turn!” The basketball flew like it was shot out of a cannon and slammed directly into the person’s back, launching them two feet into the air. “Score!”

The person recovered quickly, though they hadn’t gotten their bearing together. Before they could take a full and not lopsided-tipsy step, Lewis grabbed them from behind. The two toppled forward, Lewis on top of the guy and holding one of his wrists.

“We gunna do this quietly, or you wanna make it ugly?”

“Let me go!” The person shouted. “You don’t have the right!”

“We don’t, do we?” Vivi retorted. She knelt beside the guy as he struggled, but Lewis was pressing measured weight onto the person. “This is a citizens arrest, my fine fellow. It would be in your best interest to cooperate until the police arrive, and we can sort this all out.”

“What am I being arrested for?”

Lewis pulled the person’s hoody back. “Being shady as fuck, that’s one,” he muttered.

“Trespassing,” Vivi quipped. “I don’t recognize you, which is interesting. But I know someone who might.”

“You! You can’t do this!” he snarled. Lewis pulled his other arm back, and Vivi applied one of the parks unbreakable wrist bands. “This is unlawful! I’ll sue!”

“Oh no, oh please don’t.” Lewis hefted the guy onto his feet and kept him steady. “In all my life, I have never been threatened in such a way. Oh, the sleepless nights I’ll suffer.” He ushered the guy ahead, making sure to keep his elbows restrained.

“But did you see that pitch!” Vivi proclaimed. “Out of this world!”

Lewis snickered. “Oh Dio mío, Vivi. Calm down.”

When they returned to the site where the Allosaur had its head cleaved off, the animatronic nuisance was still wallowing in the tattered remnants of the basketball netting. Large squeaky toys and some of the sport balls rolled around, or completely pulverized by the broken machine struggling to function without essential system readers. It looked very much like a cocooned lizard, or a spool of finely spun thread – in a clunky mess.

Above the wall where the Allosaur head dropped, Arthur sat with Mystery at his side; the dogs head resting on his lap. He was giving the tuckered pupper shoulder massages after his traumatic and daring evening.

“Ooh, you really did get someone,” he praised. “Y’sure that’s the guy, though?”

“Did you call the police?” Lewis prompted.

Arthur cringed down. “That’s Vivi’s job.”

“You really going to do this?” the guy seethed. “Assaulted me, and now you’re trying to frame me for some… crime!” He struggled at Lewis’ grip, but made no profound effort to break loose.

Vivi whistled. The Mystery dog shot his head up, ears high. “Mystery, hunny. We have a very special job for you.”

Mystery slid back from Arthur and did that dog stretch, with his fore paws stretched all the way forward and his dog claws stretched to their fullest. With a shake of his pelt, he did a roll and flopped off the backside of the wall. Arthur watched this play out, apathetic.

“Absolutely,” Arthur chimed. “You’re our guy.”

“This is slander!” The guy erupted. Arthur lunged over the wall to hide.

Vivi hauled out her backpack and located her phone. “I’m callin’ the cops.”

It wasn’t actually the police that Vivi called, it was the security office, then the security office reached out to the appropriate department. While they waited for security to show up, Lewis returned Arthur’s backpack to him, and Arthur got to work on compiling the evidence the group collected. This evidence included the pictures Lewis caught while he and Arthur investigated around the park, and serial numbers from the materials torn from the Allosaur’s arm. He stuffed all of this onto two USBs the police could have, which was standard procedure for the group.

At length, Mystery trotted back over with something in his teeth.

“Nice going,” Arthur praised. “Didn’t crack it or anything. Clean as a whistle.”

Vivi snatched the phone from Arthur and held it up to the guy, currently seated on the inactive Allosaur head. “How ‘bout you unlock this for us?”

He glared at the device, the locked screen gleamed in his face. “I’ve never seen this before. Ever. I have no idea what’s going on here.” He checked on Lewis at his side, keeping him stationary with his presence alone.

“Mm hmm.” She swept away, and returned the phone back to Arthur. Without a word, Arthur began tapping at the screen. He knelt on the ground beside Mystery, while the hound observed with all the intensity of a teacher overseeing his student. “Yet, you’re not curious about all this crazy we got here.” She motioned a hand towards the broken Allosaur.

The machine body at long last ceased moving. It looked creepy, bent and knotted up the way it was.

“Question.” Arthur rose and moved closer to the guy, holding the phone all the way out to the full extent of his arm. “This you?”

It was a selfie of the guy.

Vivi took the phone and continued scrolling. “Was it really a good idea documenting the whole process of building your dino?”

He scoffed. “You can’t prove I built it.”

“You built animatronics though.” Vivi stuck the phone into a plastic baggy Arthur produced. “Not a lot of people can do that. Your friends, they have a very specialized skillset.” She took the baggy from Arthur and held it toward the guy. “You wouldn’t happen to have their pics on the phone, would you? Of course not, who would do that?”

A large hand capped down on the guy’s shoulder, and Lewis stooped. “It would be a shame if they could be cited as accomplices. Not that we’d touch the topic, pero ya sabes, that is evidence for the authorities to pick—”

“They let me go from the team,” the guy blurted. He dropped his gaze from Vivi’s unimpressed face, and scrutinized his shoes. “When they found out I used parts from another job, to build a substitute.”

Vivi nodded. “You and your colleagues began work for a competitor to Fanatical Hypes ™, and that resulted in the bust contract. A violation. But then you took it upon yourself to sabotage Geoff’s park, and make him fold under the pressure of those lost profits, so he’d compensate for the assets. Do I have that right?”

The guy took a deep breath. “It’s not that simple. It was a percentile in those cancelled payments, and they still have to do something with the skins. A lot of uppity businesses do this all the time, and commissions are hard enough to get right without the client throwing a fit in the midst of finalizations. And getting the courts to recognize contract agreements, it’s a bitch! You get that?”

“Yeah,” Vivi uttered. “We know what that’s like.”

Where he sat beside the wall, Mystery tilted his head and raised one ear.

The guy dipped his head further. “Trust me, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“I sort of have a hard time believing the, ‘oh woes and pity me’ spiel,” Lewis grumbled. He still loomed over the cringing guy, face stern. “The animatronics you built.”

“And programed,” Arthur prompted.

“And programed. They’re not toys, they’re super dangerous when not handled correctly. You put an AI in a bulldozer that identifies as a raptor, and set it loose in a recreational setting.”

“Lovin’ the PSA vibe.” Arthur remained seated by the wall working on his computer to compile essential info, fully engrossed in shuffling files. “Also, you kidnapped me and shoved lots of threats in my face.”

“Did he?” Lewis growled. “That’s seriously F’ed up.”

“Boys-boys.” Vivi pushed Lewis back, before he could… likely haul the guy off the ground and throttle him. “That’s not our business anymore. Now, this becomes law enforcement jurisdiction.” She pointed to a series of golfcarts ambling in their general direction. She looked to the guy. “Our job ended with the Allosaur’s capture. But I recommend you cooperate with the authorities. They’re usually a lot less forgiving than us.”

“Y’know dude,” Arthur stood, and ejected one of the USBs from his computer. “You could’ve just not messed around with us. Taken the dishwasher with teeth and vamoosed. But making a statement, and gettin’ Geoff to crumble under the pressure meant more. You’re lucky, you know that.” He tossed the USB to Vivi.

The guy frowned. “How am I lucky? I’m going to jail for this.”

Arthur shrugged. “We stopped ya before this could escalate. You think soulless corporate would cave, and pay out what he’s not putting to use?” He shook his head, and sat on the wall, finishing up the last USB. “We got you before someone could get seriously hurt. But sure, it’s our fault.”

The golf carts arrived and the enlisted law enforcement along with Fanatical Hypes ™ escort, took over the situation of officially taking the guy into custody. The engineers names was Yandel Jenkins, and there was a little more information about his history tied to the group of creatures builders that supplied assets to the theme park. However, since that was out of the Mystery Skulls hands, Arthur finished compiling and cross referencing the evidence that was collected and handed over the USBs. Whatever else the park security required, they’d assemble it on their own following involved statements.

Hours later the group was on their way out of the park, it was very late and most the work crews fulfilling their nocturnal duties pilfered out. The area resumed relative normalcy, aside from the spare shift tugged out to organize the area where the Allosaur fell. That was way on the far side of the park.

“Seriously a shame,” Arthur was saying, as the crew discussed the recent case. They were going through the events, trying to figure who was where when this or that situation came about. And how Arthur managed to get stuck on a roller coaster. “All that work and talent. I don’t get why people like him do it.” He walked with his arms folded behind his head, stretching out his aching muscles from where the Allosaur pinched him.

Lewis curled a thoughtful hand over his chin. “Well, if you’re company anticipated that extra point something percentage in incurring payments, it can mean the difference in leasing and supplies. Not saying our guy was in the right, but it’s something to regard when reviewing possible motivations.”

“Oh yeah, I guess,” Arthur mumbled.

“My family started their own business,” Lewis elaborated. “Any little profit you can squeeze out go towards improving your services, or the product. They did it without cutting corners, and it was heckin’ hard. Food expires fast, car parts and oil has a longer shelf life.”

Arthur shrugged.

“I guess they’ll have the park opened tomorrow and everything,” Vivi supposed. They made their way down the last stretch, the main road to the grand entrance and exit. “We can come on by and see how it looks. Catch some more rides, if we want. Certify those lifetime passes.”

Mystery gave a little yap and bounced ahead. He wouldn’t need to wear that ridiculous vest, either.

A low groan issued from Arthur, and he fitted his hands down over his face. “I dunno, I’m kinda all vacationed out. I think I’m ready to hit the road. Seriously missin’ the cramped space of the van.”

“What about the food?” Vivi prompted. “Free food. Drinks. Treats. Desserts. Concessions.”

“Mehhh….” Mystery padded over and walked beside Arthur’s legs, bumping his knees. “Pass. Free stuff is great, but kinda burnt out on carnie goodies. Nothing beats Pepper Paradiso’s. ‘Least, when someone’s lil sisters aren’t sabotaging a perfectly good sundae.”

Lewis groaned. “I don’t even know how that’s possible. Lechería is supposed to counteract the burn.”

“Who said that was dairy?”

Vivi tried very hard not to giggle. “If that’s the final verdict, we can start snooping on where we’ll go next. Hmm? Speaking of which.” She pulled her backpack around to her front, and opened it from the side. “Got a something for our scrapbook.” Unanimously, Arthur and Lewis groaned. “I promise it’s really good.”

Pulling out a card, she began moving to one of the tall lampposts that stood beside the pathway. “Check it.” The three followed.

“Oh please, is that what I think it is.” Arthur was first to take the side of the stiff booklet, and shifted it by a fraction under the light. “No, Vivi!”

“What?” Lewis posed. Arthur handed him the card, and he flipped the cover back. “Oh no! Vivi!”

She pulled her collar higher over her lower face. “The machine automatically printed it, I guess. I couldn’t leave it, you both look… excited.”

“Excitement is an understatement!” Arthur whooped. He reached for the card, but Lewis held it up high out of his reach. “Gimmie! I don’t want my near-death experience immortalized!”

Lewis backed away, pushing Arthur off before he could climb up his shoulders. “C’mon Artie! Calm down, we got out of this unscathed.”

“Unscathed! My arm is numb still!”

“Relatively,” Lewis insisted. “It’s a memento. We’ll keep it, and check it out sometimes to remind us to be more careful. Suena bien?” He arched his arm high over Arthur’s head, and handed the card back to Vivi. She secluded it away in her backpack, where it would be safe.

“Mark my words!” Arthur hastened his steps, leaving the protective cone of light. “When you least expect it, I’ll chuck that incriminating evidence!” Mystery barked and scurried after him.

“Admit it!” Vivi slapped an arm around Arthur’s lower back. “You love it! Ten years from now, we’ll have a great ol’laugh.”

Lewis joined on the other side, nearly throwing the two over as he put his arm around Arthur’s shoulders. “I’m laughin’ right now. Don’t deny it. You’re smiling. Don’t smile, Arthur.”

“Stop! That’s not fair!” Arthur capped his hands over his face and muffled a scream.

“Try not to smile Arthur,” Vivi goaded.

“Oh, he’s blushing!”

“It’s too dark to see blushing,” Arthur countered. Regardless, he still fought to hide his face all the more. “Jerks.”

“Don’t blush Arthur,” Vivi chimed. “Don’t—”

Arthur broke free and took off in a run. “Stop it! You’re ganging up on me!”

With a jolly bark, Mystery galloped beside Arthur, his dog collar jingling. He gave off a few yips, nearly stumbling when he veered into Arthur’s legs.

“No we’re not!” Lewis called, staggering into the chase. Vivi skipped along, taking on a couple leaping bounds as they flashed under the bars of light.

“What are you trying to hide Arthur!” From the distance, Mystery barked. “Really?”

“No! Never!” Arthur vaulted through the tall cage of the turnstile and kept going. ��I promise!”

Lewis crashed into the turnstile and got stuck. “You’re laughing! Whoa… HEY!” Arthur’s wild cackling rang across the dark parking lot. “HEY!”

Vivi caught up to Lewis and stood, observing. “Um?”

“A little help!”

She sighed, and got out a flashlight. “You tried to follow Arthur.” She clicked on the light. “He kinda slipped through the side here. Just come back through, carefully.”

“OoOOh.” Lewis moved back and shuffled into the opposing slot, where guests were meant to exit. Vivi crammed in with him, and the two nearly got stuck again. However, with some shoving and bickering the two made their way out safely, and caught up to Arthur and Mystery hurtling with reckless abandon.

Concluding a case was not always so brimming with mirth or effortless, despite how well everything turned out. There had been plenty of cases they walked out on, Failed Cases, too dangerous to continue through to a final conclusion. When they had the chance to celebrate, the team sometimes went all out. Or, such as the case with the Allosaur, it felt better to get back on the road and move on. Sometimes staying too long in one location, one that was not home base, it didn’t rejuvenate like the endless road.

No doubt though, by the time they arrived – or collided – with the next case, they would be primed and ready to tackle the demands. There would be fascinating creatures, thrilling perils, and challenges the Mystery Skulls crew would meet.

The night swirled around them, the four racing through the empty parking lot. It was their mission to seek out mysteries, prove what they could or debunk the frauds. Nothing but the passion for work and the ambition to find the truth, and perhaps a steady supply of coffee, fast-food, and junky tabloids.

#mystery skulls #fanfiction #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls ghost #mystery skulls fanfic #mystery skulls fanfiction #msa fanfic #msa fanfiction #msa Alive!Lewis #fanfic #mystery skulls arthur #mystery skulls mystery #mystery skulls vivi #mystery skulls lewis #FINALLY

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the-delta-42 · 4 years

Text

Burnt Homes and Burnt Bridges

Based on this Ask by @lenoreofraven

Burnt Homes and Burnt Bridges

Marinette stared at the smouldering remains of the bakery, her home. The Fire Department were going through the remains, looking for anything that may have caused the fire. Marinette hadn’t been there because she had been looking for Adrien.

Marinette had invited Adrien over to play some video games, when he spotted the pictures and the schedule. Adrien had then ranted about how she was nothing more than another stalker who was only interested in being his friend because he was famous. Before Adrien had left, he told her to expect a restraining order in the next week.

Marinette had spent little over an hour crying, before she forced herself to move and find Adrien, with the hopes of performing some damage control and prevent losing him as a friend.

Then the fire started, Marinette had been half-way to the Couffaine houseboat when Luka found her and asked about the smoke. Luka had given Marinette a ride back to the bakery, or what was left of it. Marinette had tried to get inside, only for the police to prevent her from entering.

A Fireman let out a yell, telling everyone in hearing range that he found something, fifteen minutes later, Paramedics removed two burnt bodies from the Bakery, all while Marinette’s world fell apart around her.

A sudden shaking caused Marinette to open her eyes, Alya and Nora standing above her.

“You okay?” Asked Nora, her voice soft, “You were screaming in your sleep.”

Marinette gave a small, shaky nod, making Alya fold her arms across her chest.

“You know we’re not going to believe that.” Said Alya, while Marinette held onto the duvet tightly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I saw the Bakery.” Mumbled Marinette, tears welling in her eyes, “But this time, I didn’t get in.”

Nora and Alya winced, when Marinette got to the Bakery, she had managed to slip past the Police and saw what remained of her parents. Marinette was still screaming when the Firefighters dragged her out of the building. Marinette didn’t escape unscathed, receiving third degree burns along her arms and side. Marinette had taken to wearing a cover up to hide the burn scars that were forming. Nora had suggested that Marinette grow her hair out to hide the scars.

“You sure you want to go to school tomorrow?” Asked Nora, as Marlena appeared in the doorway.

“Y-yeah, I can’t get behind on my schoolwork.” Said Marinette, looking towards the floor.

“Marinette, I’m sure Mdm. Bustier would understand-” Said Alya, before Marinette cut her off.

“NO! I-I need to do this,” Exclaimed Marinette, her breath coming out in gasps, “i-if I d-don’t, I’ll h-have nothing t-to distract me f-fro-from-”

Marinette broke down in a fresh wave of tears, openly bawling her eyes out, as Nora pulled her close.

“Fine.” Said Marlena, from the doorway, “But the moment you start becoming overwhelmed, you come back here.”

Marinette shakily nodded her head in agreement.

BHaBB

Adrien purposefully looked away from the Bakery where Marinette lived. Plagg had given him enough grief over how he handled the situation, Adrien personally thought he’d been quite tame. Plagg had actually said Adrien was the same with his Ladybug pictures, Adrien disagreed, he actually knew and cared about Ladybug. Adrien felt Marinette was a hypocrite, claiming to hate liars, despite being one herself. He was glad he threw the signed album cover away, seeing as it was based on nothing but a lie.

When Adrien entered the classroom, he saw most of his classmates surrounding a teary Marinette, even Chloe and Lila looked sorry for her. Adrien internally rolled his eyes, no doubt Marinette told some grand tale about how he’d wronged her and make him the bad guy.

So, Adrien was surprised, when Nino greeted him normally.

“Hey, Dude.” Said Nino, his tone sombre, “Marinette’s going through a hard time at the moment.”

Adrien internally groaned, meaning they wanted him to say something to comfort her. His mind set; Adrien decided to go with the classic approach.

“Marinette,” Said Adrien, his tone terse, “How’re your parents?”

There was a joint flinch from everyone in the class as Marinette recoiled as if she’d been physically slapped and a barrage of emotions went through her eyes, pain, grief, despair and, finally, rage. The next anyone knew, Adrien was on the floor with a broken nose and Marinette was running out the door.

“WHAT THE HELL, AGRESTE?!” Yelled Alix, as Alya followed Marinette.

“What’d you mean, what the hell?” Demanded Adrien, his hand going to his nose, “She attacked me!”

“Well, to be honest,” Said Lila, leaning forwards, “I’m not surprised, since her parents are dead.”

“Not funny.” Groused Adrien, accepting a tissue from Chloe.

“I’m not lying,” Said Lila, “you can check out the front if you want.”

Adrien scowled, before Nino groaned.

“You didn’t look at the Bakery, when you came in, did you?” Asked Nino, his fist clenching around Adrien’s shoulder.

Nino dragged Adrien to the front of the school and made him fix his gaze on the burnt remains of the Bakery.

“Someone set it on fire over the weekend.” Said Nino, as Adrien continued to stare at the Bakery, “Marinette only escaped because she was looking for you, in attempt to perform some damage control.”

“What?” Whispered Adrien.

“Adrien, believe it or not, Marinette actually loved you,” Said Nino, his gaze burning into the back of Adrien’s head, “Every time you asked for help with Kagami, it killed her, but she still did it. She even made that scarf your dad stole for your birthday.”

“What?” Adrien whispered again.

“She didn’t love you because you’re a celebrity, or because you’re rich, she loved because she thought you were kind.” Said Nino, his tone even, “And you went and destroyed that belief. She’s grateful that she lived, but we all think she wishes she had died with her parents.”

“What happened?” Asked Adrien, still reeling from the shock that the scarf his father made for him, was actually made by Marinette.

“There was a fire,” Said Nino, slowly, “You’d know that if you’d been listening to me.”

“No, I mean what happened?” Asked Adrien, looking at Nino.

Nino sighed and started to guide Adrien back inside the school.

“Marinette when out looking for you, our guess is to either apologise and attempt to salvage her friendship with you, or to fix things.” Said Nino, “She ran into Luka, who asked her about the smoke, Luka got her back to the Bakery, saw it was on fire and rush in to find her parents.”

“And?” Asked Adrien, hesitantly.

“And saw their burnt corpses and received third degree burns on her arms and along her sides.” Said Nino, looking around, “Now, we just have to find her, before she gets herself hurt.”

“Okay, what do you need me to do?” Asked Adrien, getting Nino to look at him.

“Go back to the class room and keep away from Marinette,” Said Nino, as Adrien felt his heart sink, “I get the feeling that she might not want to see you for a bit, considering the last thing you said to her.”

Nino was about to head off when Alya ran up to them.

“I can’t find Marinette!” Cried Alya, “I’ve looked everywhere, the toilets, the supply cupboards, even the roof and I can’t find her!”

“What?!” Exclaimed Nino, meeting Alya halfway, “Where could she have gone?”

“I don’t know!” Snapped Alya, frustrated, “If I knew, we wouldn’t have this problem!”

“Rhetorical question, babe.” Said Nino, running a hand down his face.

The two stood there, mentally going over all the places Marinette had access to, which was a lot. Alya’s phone buzzed, making the girl glance at it. Alya’s eyes widened a fraction before she swore.

“I found her!” Yelled Alya, running towards the door.

“Wait! Babe! Where is she?” Shouted Nino, as Alya ran off.

“Le Grande Paris!” Yelled Alya, before Nino sighed and returned to the classroom.

“Chloe, does Marinette have access to your Dad’s hotel?” Asked Nino, making Chloe reach for her phone and turn the screen on.

“She shouldn’t, they don’t usually let anyone off the list ent-SHE’S STANDING ON THE ROOF?!” Screamed Chloe, making the classroom go silent.

Nino surged forwards and yanked the phone out of Chloe’s hands, scanning the notification, before watching the clip. Nadja Chamack’s co-host was speaking, while Nadja herself was trying to ger Marinette to come down off the roof. Nino squinted and spotted Alya next to her.

Adrien took the distraction as an opportunity to slip out of the classroom to transform into Chat Noir. A couple of Minutes later, Chat Noir was running across the rooftops, heading to Le Grande Paris Hotel. A couple of roofs away, Chat stopped and frowned. From when Marinette was, she would’ve had to have had a Miraculous to get to the roof of the hotel.

‘Ladybug’s been unusually silent lately.’ Said a voice that sounded a lot like Plagg.

Chat felt ice line his stomach, what if he made his Lady hate him. Chat quickly shook his head, no, Marinette could never be Ladybug.

‘Are you sure?’ asked the voice, making Chat shake his head again.

Marinette didn’t acknowledge Chat when he landed behind her. Chat had to prevent himself from scowling, forcibly reminding himself that the only reason she was up here was because he reminded her about her parents.

“What do you want?” Came Marinette’s broken voice, jarring Chat Noir from his thoughts.

“Normally, I don’t go comforting stalkers,” Said Chat, internally wincing at his choice of words, “but I heard about your parents.”

A scoff came from Marinette, “Why do you care?”

“They were good people, not anyone who deserved to die.” Said Chat, blandly.

“Oh, that is it!” Came a high-pitched voice, before a Kwami flew out from around Marinette, “You claim Marinette is a stalker who’s only interested in your money, while you do nothing but harass her during Akuma battles, you throw tantrum, after tantrum and demand an apology when you don’t need or deserve one!”

“Tikki!” Snapped Marinette, sharply, finally turning around. Her eyes were cold and penetrating.

“M-Marinette,” Stuttered Chat, dumbfounded, “You’re Ladybug.”

Marinette sighed, before getting to her feet and looking at Chat.

“Yeah, surprise, I see that I don’t live up to your ‘standards’.” Said Marinette, walking around, Tikki flying over and landing on her shoulder, “Which also means I’m the Guardian, so no doubt you’ll probably start demanding that I resign and hand it all over to yo-wait, what did Tikki mean by ‘only interested in your money’?”

Chat felt his mouth go dry, while Marinette narrowed her eyes, before they widened, “A-Adrien?”

Chat took a step forwards, making Marinette step backwards and off the roof. Chat ran over to the side of the roof, dumbly watching as Marinette fell. Then, in a flash of light, Ladybug took Marinette’s place, using her yoyo to stop her fall. There was silence, before a camera flashed, bringing the world crashing down into Ladybug.

Without another word, or acknowledgement to anyone, Ladybug swung away, trying to put as much distance between her and Chat as possible.

BHaBB

When Adrien got back to school, Alya was already there.

“Oh, how painfully ironic,” Said Lila, as Adrien walked into the classroom, “you made Ladybug, the person you have a crush on, hate you beyond words.”

“Really?” Deadpanned Adrien, getting a scoff from Alya.

“The only reason she was still hung up on you was because we kept her from moving on.” Said Alya, her eyes burning holes into the desk.

“Besides,” Said Nathaniel, his arms folded, “it’s like you can talk, seeing how you have a shrine, complete with candles, to Ladybug, who we now know as Marinette.”

That got Adrien a few stares, before Nino banged his head against the desk.

“I can’t believe this,” muttered Nino, “you do know that the only reason she had feelings for you was because she thought you were kind?”

“W-what?” Asked Adrien, never seeing Nino so irritated.

“When you apologised after the first day, Marinette fell, because you were kind,” Said Nino, slumping back into his seat, “we never told her that the only reason you apologised was because were told to.”

Adrien tried not to flinch at Nino’s words.

“Oh,” Came Marinette’s voice from behind Adrien, “that’s nice to know.”

Adrien spun around and came face to face with Marinette. Adrien could make out some of the scars that were forming. His mouth suddenly went dry.

“Please, continue,” Said Marinette, dropping her bag down, “I just learnt some very powerful things. Such as, why Hawkmoth wants the miraculous.”

“Wait, really?!” Exclaimed Alya, rushing over to her friend, “Did he attack you? Did you seek him out? What happened?”

“Hawkmoth,” Said Marinette, walking around Adrien, “wants to bring his wife back. Apparently, he thought I’d understand his reasoning.”

Marinette dropped her bag, before fishing her hand into the inside pocket of her jacket and removing the Peacock Miraculous.

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get both of them.” Said Marinette, her voice nearly emotionless, “And you know what?”

Everyone was silent, as Marinette looked around the room.

“I did understand his reasoning,” Said Marinette, “the only thing stopping me is the price of the wish.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Asked Rose, nervously leaning forwards.

Marinette smirked, before a blood red butterfly emblem appeared on her face.

“Because I like tearing Hawkmoth’s mind apart.” Said Marinette, her voice taking a sick, delighted tone, “He now knows what it’s like to have his mind torn into, I’m sure I can come up with more reasons.”

“M-Mari, you need to fight it.” Gasped Alya, getting a confused look from Marinette.

“Why?” Asked Marinette, her head tilting to the side, “Hawkmoth has been terrorizing Paris for months. The only other way to prevent Akumas from being created is the destruction of its host.”

“Marinette, please.” Pleaded Alya, taking a step towards her friend.

“Please?” Repeated Marinette, before letting out a humourless laugh, “I’m sure that’s what my parents said, when Hawkmoth sent his little messenger, to try and find my breaking point. And guess what. He found it; he just couldn’t anticipate that I couldn’t be controlled.”

The emblem glowed brighter and Marinette threw her arms out, “And look at me! I fulfilled my promise. Hawkmoth won’t harm anyone ever again! He provoked an animal while it was sleeping and Gabriel couldn’t handle it when it turned around and bit him, I’m practically unbeatable! I know everyone’s fighting styles, their temperament, how to provoke them, how to break them and how to cripple them.”

Adrien felt his throat start to close up, starting to have trouble breathing. Marinette, his Lady, was a different person. A killer, who was sitting at the bottom of her soul, made their way into her through the cracks and breaks he’d made.

“I mean, come one,” Laughed Marinette, the temperature of the room dropping as the door sealed itself shut, “even if you could beat me, you don’t even know where the Akuma is.”

Adrien looked Marinette up and down, before he spotted it. On the ring finger of her right hand, was her mother’s wedding ring, the once rose gold metal now black and purple.

“Plagg,” Said Adrien, hoarsely, “Claws out.”

A flash of green replaced Adrien with Chat Noir.

Marinette hung her head and sighed, “How predictable.”

Marinette spun on her heel and snarled at Adrien, before she started gagging.

“Piss. Off. And. Shut. Up.” Snarled Marinette, her eyes turning purple and the Butterfly emblem glowing brighter.

The glow faded and Marinette’s eyes returned to blue.

“Sorry, but the original is making a racket.” Said Marinette, her tone taking a sugary tone.

“That means she still in there.” Said Chat, spinning his baton.

“Aww, how cute,” sneered Marinette, “the stray wants his obsession back, but doesn’t want her obsessing over him. Do you know how easy it is to get her to back off? You want to know what I show her to make her go away?”

Chat swallowed his mouth dry.

“I show her you,” Said Marinette, her lips curling into a snarl, “I show her you and your hypocritical statements, you as you break down every perception she ever had of you and Chat Noir. Do you know how much pain it causes her?”

Chat bit his lip, his heart sinking.

“It kills her,” Gloated Marinette, giving Chat the smile that Marinette gave her friends.

Chat internally shook his head, no, this wasn’t Marinette, just some monster who taken her over and wearing her skin.

“She wasted so much time on you.” Said the Akuma, Marinette’s head tilting to the side mockingly, “she focused so much on you, she started to lose herself and she keeps saying ‘Chat will save me. He always will.’ I just show her all the things that caused her pain, you, her parents’ deaths, her uncle creeping into her room until he was caught by her father. Even her poor brothers’ death.”

The Akuma mockingly wiped away a fake tear.

“She’s even under the delusion that you’ll figure out where the Akuma is.” Laughed the Akuma, before Chat surged forwards and yanked the ring off the Akuma’s, Marinette’s, hand.

Marinette’s eyes rolled back as she collapsed, Chat broke the ring and cataclysmed the butterfly.

Marinette started to convulse, the choking the Akuma had being much worse with Marinette.

“We need to get her to a hospital.” Said Alya, cradling Marinette’s head to make sure it didn’t hit anything.

“Currently,” Said Max, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Adrien had the fastest mode of transportation.”

Alya looked reluctant, before hesitantly passing Marinette over to Chat, who took the moment to feed Plagg and transform back, before he headed to the window.

“I’ll go as fast as I can.” Then he leapt out the window.

The rest of the class was silent.

“So, Chloe,” Asked Alix, leaning towards the Blonde, “how did it feel to find out your lesbian crush was the girl you bullied for years?”

“And did you try to stop it?” Snapped Chloe, which made Alix lean back, looking sheepish.

Alya was still kneeling where Marinette was, quietly praying that she was okay.

BHaBB

Adrien came back to school with the news that Marinette was currently unconscious at the hospital. Everyone, Adrien, Chloe and Lila included, made the agreement to visit her room.

Now, everyone was looking through the glass, shocked to find Luka and Kagami already in there. Kagami gently stroking Marinette’s hair.

“You might as well come in.” Said Luka, prompting Alya to push the door open.

“How is she?” Asked Alya, watching Kagami.

“They found she’d swallowed the earrings,” Said Kagami, her voice quiet, “probably in an attempt to prevent Hawkmoth getting them.”

“They don’t know how long she’ll be out for.” Said Luka, leaning against the back wall, regretting telling them to come in, he just thought there were four of them, not the entire class.

Adrien remained silent, Marinette looked so pale, so exhausted, as if she was cracking under everything.

“Are you going to say something or are you just going to stand there looking sorry for yourself?” Asked Kagami, giving Adrien and pointed look.

“I can’t think of anything to say.” Said Adrien, his stomach heavy.

There was a quiet groan, before Kagami gasped.

“S-she just squeezed my hand.” Said Kagami, before quickly leaning over and hitting the call button.

The orderlies weren’t happy with the number of people in the room, before turfing them all out. A doctor was shining a light into Marinette’s eyes, as Adrien left, he saw her eye move and her arm feebly trying to bat the light away.

The doctor came back out and looked at the group.

“She’s awake,” Said the doctor, “but she needs rest.”

“What if there’s an Akuma attack?” Asked Alya, making the Doctor sigh.

“The world could be ending, and she’d have to rest.” Said the doctor, before walking off.

“Sunshine right there.” Said Alya, before heading back into the room.

Marinette tiredly looked at the large group.

“Can I have five more minutes to sleep>” Asked Marinette, “The pounding might stop by then.”

“That’s your concussion.” Said Alya, “Apparently you hit your head at some point.”

Adrien hovered by the door, debating on if he should go or not. Marinette glanced at him and sighed.

“Guys, could you leave for a moment?” Asked Marinette, her eyes going to Adrien, “I think Adrien and I have something to talk about.”

Everyone slowly left, leaving Marinette and Adrien alone.

Both remained silent, not daring to break the silence.

“Was it true?” whispered Adrien, his head down.

“Was what true?” Responded Marinette, getting herself into a more comfortable sitting position.

“Everything the Akuma said, about your family, about the pain, about me?” Said Adrien, as Marinette sighed.

“Most of it,” Said Marinette, “Although, Fortune may have embellished some of it.”

“And my father?” Asked Adrien, making Marinette sigh again.

“I don’t know.” Replied Marinette, “By the time that happened, Fortune was already in control. She may have just said that to break you.”

“Is it true that I make you feel uncomfortable?” Asked Adrien, making Marinette roll her eyes.

“Adrien, the only times you’ve made me uncomfortable, is when you’ve jumped in front of an Akuma, other than that, your flirting needed to be better timed.” Said Marinette, wincing slightly.

Adrien continued to stand, until Marinette groaned.

“For gods sake, sit down.” Adrien quietly walked over and sat down in the chair next to her bed.

“I’m not going to lie, we both have serious issues to work out, preferably before we face Hawkmoth again.” Said Marinette, “I’ve already agreed to see a therapist regarding my obsession with you, in the hopes that I’ll be able to ignore it. Although, there is one good thing about this whole situation.”

“Other than having the Peacock Miraculous?”

“Hawkmoth may know who the others are, but he can’t put names to faces.” Said Marinette, making Adrien sit up.

“So, if they came back with a different name and costume,” Said Adrien.

“Hawkmoth won’t know it’s them.” Finished Marinette, leaning in her pillows, “I hope things can be fixed.”

Adrien gave her a small smile, “Me too.”

BHaBB

Ladybug landed in a crouch on the school roof, Alya hopping off as Marinette dropped her transformation.

“That. Was. Awesome!” Exclaimed Alya, making Marinette laugh.

There was a skid a thump behind them, both turned around and spotted Chat face down on the roof. Behind him was Kagami, having to shove her hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing.

“You missed the landing.” Said Marinette, as Chat dropped his transformation.

“No, shit.” Said Adrien, spitting some moss out of his mouth, “Where did you hide the box anyway?”

“You still have to guess~” Said Marinette in a sing-song tone.

Marinette disappeared down the stairs into the school. Adrien was happy things were going back to normal, or as close to normal as things could get anyway.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nora cesaire #Marlena cesaire #alya's mother #nino lahiffe #chloe bourgeois #nathaniel kurtzberg #rose lavillant #luka couffaine #Kagami Tsurugi #juleka couffaine #lila rossi #delta writes #bridges au #adrien salt

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Sugar, Sugar (Three)

We meet the rest of the gang and Tony makes a move on Stucky.

MASTERLIST HERE

*****************

“Hey gal pals!” Clint slammed the door to Natasha’s apartment and made a beeline for the kitchen. “Have the Wonder Twins came by with the daily cupcakes? I’m starving and too poor to buy real foo...”

He let the sentence trail when he came around the corner and saw Steve and Bucky at the kitchen table and also Sam for some reason. “Oh uh--- hey a bunch of random men who doesn’t live here.”

“You don’t live here either. And did you call us the Wonder Twins?” Bucky dragged the box of cupcakes away from the center of the table and closer to himself. “Because Stevie and I don’t look nothin’ alike. Definitely not twins.”

“No no no.” Sam undid the wrapper on his third cupcake of the morning and took a big bite, spraying around crumbs as he finished, “We need to talk about why Clint apparently refers to Nat and Val as his gal pals.”

“If I would’a known you were here I would’a called out for my man pals too.” Clint defended, and made grabby hands at the bakery box. “Don’t hog the goods, Bucky-baby. Share the love.”

“The hell I will.” Bucky covered the box with a protective arm. “We only brought a dozen and fuckin’ Sam got to most of them. None for you. We’re keeping the rest.”

“No you aren’t.” Valkyrie finally made it out of her room. “You boys gonna bring that crap here, you’re gonna share. Give it up, Bronco and give it up now.”

Bucky sent the woman his fiercest scowl, then shouted, “OW!” when his fiercest scowl only earned him a smack upside the head. “Damn you, Val!”

“Fuckin’ feed me, then.” Valkyrie patted at Steve’s shoulder, ran her hands through Clint’s hair and crooned, “Good morning, gorgeous.” then hip checked Sam right out of the way so she could get to the coffee. “What’s the flavor of the day?”

“Coffee Caramel Macchiato.” Steve finally stopped stuffing his face long enough to speak. “Tony says it’s like coffee in a cupcake. Mornin’ Val. Clint. How’s it going?”

“It’ll be better when you give me one of those.” the boys never knew whether it was impressive or scary that Valkyrie could put back sixteen ounces of straight black coffee without pausing for a breath, but either way the feat distracted Bucky enough that Val managed to snag two cupcakes from the box before he noticed.

“Here, love.” she passed one to Clint, then hollered, “Tasha! Cupcakes! And coffee!”

“I want coffee.” Natasha managed to be drop dead gorgeous even fresh out of bed, red hair perfectly tousled, full lips pouty, crop top and flannel pajama bottoms absolutely adorable and every head in the kitchen turned to watch her progress across the living room. “Stare a little harder Sam, I’m sure you won’t burn holes in my skin with all that laser like focus.”

“Yeah I’m uh-- I’m not even sorry.” Sam shrugged unrepentantly. “Five years you’ve known me Tash. You don’t want me drooling on your kitchen floor, maybe put some clothes on before you come out of the bedroom.”

“It’s my house, I’ll wear whatever the fuck I want.” Natasha snatched a towel off the counter and tucked it into Sam’s shirt, patting at his chest teasingly. “There. Drool away.”

“Good morning, beauty.” Valkyrie pursed her lips for a kiss and Natasha promptly gave her one, then leaned over and gave Clint one as well. “Sleep okay?”

“How do you not know how she slept? You two still aren’t sharing a bedroom?” Bucky tipped his head back and grinned when the tiny redhead passed behind them, and Steve added, “Haven’t you two been dating for a year now?”

“I feel like that’s none’ya’bizness.” Valkyrie snorted. “Give me another cupcake.”

“Oooh, more from our favorite sexy baker?” Nat crowded in between Clint and Valkyrie and snagged one from the box. “Speaking of people who are obviously in love but not doing anything about it--”

Valkyrie smacked her in the ass and Natasha laughed over her shoulder at her. “-- what is this now? Three weeks you’ve been maxing out your credit cards buying cupcakes from Sweet Peach? And you still haven’t managed a date with the guy?”

“Tony doesn’t date couples.” Bucky licked his fingers, then leaned over and kissed the frosting right off Steve’s lips. “He won’t even go out for drinks. The only way we see him is to visit the shop and Captain Do Gooder over here says we can’t just go to the shop and ogle Tony, we actually have to buy something.”

“Yeah, cos shockingly enough, it’s creepy to show up every day and stare at him, Buck.” Steve pushed his boyfriend away when Bucky tried to steal a bite of his cupcake. “Tony tells us we don’t have to get cupcakes and he’s always real happy to see us, always lets us hang out while he’s working after hours but it still doesn’t seem right to take up space and not buy anything.”

“So let me get this straight.” Sam took Valkyrie’s second cup of coffee and grimaced over a too large swallow. “Tony won’t date-- oh ho-ho-holy crap woman, how do you drink this sludge?”

“Sack up or shut up.” Val countered and took her cup back. “Wuss.”

“Anyway.” Sam blinked back some coffee induced tears. “Anyway. Tony won’t date couples, but you two still drag your happy asses down there every damn day to flirt and buy cupcakes even though you have no chance of getting anywhere with him? That just sounds... terrible. It sounds terrible.”

“You don’t know the whole story.” Steve gulped at his coffee, then passed it over to Bucky.

“Okay.” Clint intercepted the mug and stole a drink too. “What’s the whole story?”

“We love him.” Bucky snatched the cup and glared around the kitchen. “How is there six people in this kitchen and only three coffee cups in circulation? Me and Stevie share cos we are adorable. The rest of you get your own damn cups.”

“When you start doing dishes, you can complain about the cups.” Natasha informed him. “And what do you mean, you love him? You don’t love him.”

“No, we definitely love him.”

“You definitely don’t.” Sam snagged Natasha around the waist and dragged her up against his body, pinching her side when she giggled and shook her butt into him. “Settle down, Red. And you two Wonder Twins definitely don’t love Tony.”

“I’m glad the Wonder Twin thing is catching on.” Clint got his arm around Valkyrie and smooshed a kiss to her lips, then hopped up on the counter and pulled the pretty girl between his legs, dropping his chin into her curly hair. “Seriously though. You don’t love Tony.”

“You don’t know the whole story.” Steve said again, and this time Bucky finished, “You also haven’t seen his ass, so you know. You have no idea what th’fuck you’re talkin’ about.”

“So what?” Sam shrugged. “He’s perfect? He’s funny? He’s the cream filling in your steroid jacked sandwich? What?”

“All those things.” Bucky checked his phone and jumped up to get his coat. “Except the steroid jacked sandwich thing, you know damn well these muscles are one hundred percent real.”

“Steve.” Natasha raised her voice to be heard over the chorus of jeers and disbelief when Bucky flexed dramatically. “Steve, seriously. Do you want me to look into this guy Tony for you?”

“She means, do you want her to do that scary Soviet Spy thing where she uncovers everyone’s secrets and uses them to bring down nations.” Valkyrie clarified, smirking over at her sort of girlfriend. “Anything sketchy we should know about your baker?”

“There’s nothing sketchy about Tony.” Bucky denied, at the same time Steve protested, “Tash! Do not do your scary Soviet spy thing! You’ll scare him away!”

“First of all, I’m Russian.” Natasha corrected. “And second of all, I work in data entry, not espionage.”

“Data entry.” Sam scoffed. “Cos we believe that. No way you work a regular nine to five, Tasha. Five years we’ve been friends and I’ve never seen you in office appropriate business wear ever. Data entry, my ass.”

“Anyway.” Steve cleared his throat loudly. “Anyway, Tasha. No. You don’t need to look into Tony, why would you even think that?”

“Cos somehow he’s got both you goons googly eyed and stupid over him and you can’t even tell me his full name.” she challenged. “Cos he is dead set against dating couples but lets you hang around anyway. Because if I didn’t half believe you dummies about being in love with him already, I’d worry he was gold digging or something else along those lines. I should look into him. He seems suspicious.”

“The last time you looked into someone, they disappeared with out a trace, Tash.” Clint spoke up from halfway through his second cupcake. “Remember that? What was her name, that foxy chick that shanked Sam and stole half his money?”

“NOBODY SHANKED ME!” Sam bellowed and Valkyrie cackled with glee. “We got a little feisty in bed and one of her long ass nails jabbed me in the side!”

“She did steal half your money though, right?” Bucky waggled his eyebrows. “Right? Put one hand down your pants and the other into your wallet and about emptied your bank account?”

“I have a giving spirit.” Sam groused. “I thought we were talking about Steve and Bucky falling in love with crazy people, not me!”

“Alright alright alright.” Clint clapped his hands a few times. “We are talking about Steve and Bucky falling in love, not Sam and his shockingly terrible taste in partners.”

“We’re not talking about it at all actually, cos I’m about to be late for work.” Steve handed the last cupcake to Natasha and blew Valkyrie a kiss. “Buck? Let’s go.”

“Coming, sweetums.” Sam called in a high falsetto, oophing over a quick jab in the ribs courtesy of Natasha. “This conversation isn’t over! We want to meet this Sweet Peach baker!”

“Hell, we don’t need their permission.” Valkyrie shrugged. “Let’s just mosey down to the bakery and meet Tony oursel--”

“Nope.” Steve stuck his head back around the corner and pointed at them. “None of you are meeting Tony until Bucky and I have a chance to explain about you all.”

“What’s there to explain?” Clint wondered, and Bucky yelled from the front door, “We gotta explain why we’re friends with a bunch’a assholes!”

They ran away down the elevator to a background of boo’s and vaguely worded threats, and Bucky was still laughing when he pushed Steve into the elevator then crowded up against the blond and lay a searing kiss on his lips.

“Hey hey hey.” Steve huffed a laugh, brushed his knuckles over Bucky’s cheek and slowed the kiss down to something a little easier. “What was that for?”

“Oh, because Nat and Val make me horny.” Bucky said over a grimace. “Which is... so weird.. but I’ve given up fighting it. I think it’s cos Nat is fuckin’ scary and Val isn’t scary but looks like she could seriously fuck you up.”

“So... the potential for violence makes you horny?”

“You’re one to talk Stevie, you got a boner watching football last night.”

“It was an impressive touchdown!” Steve turned positively scarlet. “A hail mary play and a run down the field and--”

“There’s nothing impressive about football, baby doll.” Bucky hushed him with another kiss. “But it sure is cute how you get all sparkly eyed and shit. Let’s get to work.”

“Fine.” Steve grumbled a little on the elevator down, but once they were out on the sidewalk again he asked, “Are we bein’ dumb about Tony?”

“Fuckin’ stupid.” Bucky confirmed immediately. “I’m half outta my mind over the guy because of the way his booty wiggles. You almost broke your neck watching him pull cupcakes out the other day. He sings that stupid ‘yummy yummy I’ve got love in my tummy song’ and you made the sorta noise you only make when I get up inside you. And every time he holds that frosting bag I think it’s connected to my damn dick. We are fuckin’ stupid, Stevie.”

“Okay, I wasn’t actually talking about all of those things.” Steve was blushing again and Bucky grinned at him. “I mean, are we bein’ dumb cos he doesn’t want anything to do with a couple beyond just hanging out and being friends, and we keep coming around sorta obviously hoping for more.”

“Oh thank god, we’re only bein’ sorta obvious.”

“I’m being serious.” Steve grabbed at Bucky’s hand and yanked him to a stop. “Three weeks, Buck. We’ve seen him every day for three weeks--”

“Not every day, we didn’t actually see him yesterday, remember? Or last Friday.”

“--pretty much every day for three weeks. We laugh and we talk and it’s a hell of a good time but do you think we’re wasting our time?”

“Alright.” Bucky pulled a hair tie from his pocket and looped his hair up and out of his eyes. “Alright Stevie, you know what I think? I think it’s pretty damn obvious Tony’s nursing a hell of a broken heart, definitely got burned falling in love with a couple before. I think he’s being real cautious and tryna take things slow but I also think that the other night when you told him how cute he was he about blushed his adorable ass right through the floor and Sunday he looked so damn relieved when we walked through the door, I know he was waiting for us.”

“You think he likes us.”

“I think he’s a totally smitten kitten.” Bucky confirmed. “Which works out pretty well cos we’re fuckin’ lost for him, right? Right?”

“Right.”

“And I know I haven’t stopped talkin’ about his ass, but we like him, right? Care about him a little bit, at least. I missed him like hell last night, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” this time it was Steve that initiated a less-than-publicly- appropriate kiss. “Yes. Care about him sorta a weird amount seein as how we’ve only known him a month and yes, missed seeing him last night.”

“So what’s the problem?” Bucky pointed out. “We’re fuckin’ stupid over him but that don’t mean we’re being dumb about him, right?”

“Right.” Steve finally smiled again. “Thank you.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m the whole package.” Bucky kissed him back and growled playfully. “I’ve got plenty of brawn and a surprising amount of brains too. Who’d’a thunk it?”

“Wow, that was a bad sentence.” Steve shook his head and started back down the street. “Who’d’a thunk it. Jesus, Buck.”

***************

Sweet Peach Bakery had been closed for an hour and a half by the time Steve and Bucky finished at the gym and made it down the street, so Bucky banged on the door while Steve called the bakery number to let Tony know they were outside.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my favorite hot bodies!” Tony’s cheeks were flushed, his smile stretched a little too wide when he made it to the door, and Bucky raised his eyebrows when he saw Tony’s more than half full glass of wine. “You didn’t come by last night, I thought maybe I finally scared you away!”

“Not a chance.” Steve set his bag down and motioned to the cup. “Start the party without us?”

“Oh come on, we all know it’s not a party until the hot people arrive.” Tony winked and nudged Bucky gently. “What’s with the murder scowl, Buck? You bummed cos you don’t have any wine yet?”

“Not scowlin’ sugar.” Bucky was quick to smile, even quicker to reach out and tug at Tony’s apron strings. “Just wonderin’ what happened today that you broke into the wine ahead of schedule?”

“Not ahead of schedule.” Tony tipped his head back and emptied the glass, then sashayed his way back behind the counter to get more. “I think I’m late breaking into it actually. You two weren’t here to help with it last night so I had to drink your share too.”

“Well we’re here now.” Steve followed Tony around the counter and grabbed two more glasses, passing one to Bucky. “Fill us up and tell us about your day.”

“My day.” Tony’s laugh sounded strained. “Oh man, my day? I pissed off a bride and lost a huge wedding job, that’s how my day went.”

“Oh damn.” Bucky uncorked the wine and refilled Tony’s glass most of the way full, then poured a little for he and Steve as well. “I thought you were like the bride whisperer, Tony. What the hell happened?”

“Vegan bride.” Tony made a kissy face at Bucky before taking a swig from the fresh glass. “Which is fine you know? It’s fine. I can work with that. Hey you know what would relax me? Come here and sit in my office, tell me which of the overly expensive chairs I bought feels better on Steve’s ridiculous butt.”

“Really?” Steve challenged. “Gonna use the words ‘ridiculous’ and ‘butt’ in the same sentence and make it about me?”

“Have you seen your ass?” Tony tossed over his shoulder, and motioned them through the kitchen. “I could bounce a quarter off that thing, Blondie.”

“Can confirm.” Bucky gave the aforementioned ass a quick swat. “Why’d you get new couches though?”

“Rhodey threw out my other ones.” Tony unlocked the door to his office and turned on the lights. “I dunno why though, couches I got at a garage sale in the late eighties are still usable, right? They went through all the college dorm parties and every single one of my apartments and at one point I gave them away but then found them again at a different garage sale-

“Wait, what?”

“--so I got them back!”

“Tony. Are you serious?”

“And college orgies aren’t all that wild, we all used condoms so total minimal body fluids--”

“OH MY GOD!”

“FROM THE LATE EIGHTIES!?”

“I mean, I lost my virginity on the big one so--”

“TONY WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“-- it was sentimental! Rhodey had no right to throw it out!”

“I feel like Rhodey should’a called so we could give him a hand.” Steve decided. “God, Tony. Couches aren’t meant to survive thirty years of college sex and garage sales, they are meant to give us a few years of comfiness and then die dignified deaths on the street corner.”

“There’s nothing dignified about street corners.” Tony disagreed. “And it’s so much harder than you’d think to find neon floral print couches these days? Rhodey made me get boring blue ones.”

“Sorry, was that neon floral print?” Bucky picked up a photo from Tony’s desk and squinted at it in disbelief. “Holy shit, that is a neon floral print couch.”

“Where?” Steve peered over Bucky’s shoulder, gaping at the picture. “Wow. Tony has your hair always been that fluffy? How the hell do you control that mess? Bucky, did you see this?”

“Cupcake, your hair is like eight inches off your forehead.” Bucky whistled as if impressed. “What is that, Flock of the Seagulls, huh?”

“You aren’t that tall, either.” Steve cocked his head curiously. “Tony are you-- are you wearing lifts in your shoes?

“High heels were in for men back then!” Tony snatched the picture back and set it face down on the desk. “And I use lots of hair gel okay?! And by the way? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that couch. It was a conversation starter!”

“Yeah, I feel like I’d have something to say if I walked into a room and that monstrosity was taking up the main wall.” Bucky agreed. “I’d have something to say if I walked into a room and saw you hair fluffed like that too--ow!”

He wheezed when Tony jabbed at his stomach. “My chubbiness!”

“Chubbiness?” Tony rubbed at his finger as if it hurt. “That was like poking a brick wall, what chubbiness? Fuck, I think you broke my finger.”

“Well maybe stop poking and start groping, less chance for broken fingers.” Steve darted around Tony and got the picture again. “My word, is this Colonel Rhodes wearing suspenders and pants up to his nipples? Does he know this picture exists?”

“I’m gonna hang it in the bakery as revenge for him taking my couches!” Tony grabbed for the frame and Steve just held it up higher, grinning over Tony’s outraged squawk. “This picture is like the gift that keeps on giving, Tony. Are you wearing glitter lip gloss right here?”

“Let me see?” Bucky didn’t even have to stretch to take the picture from Steve, holding it over Tony’s head and flattening one big hand into Tony’s chest to keep him away. “Ho-ho-holy shit, that’s glitter lip gloss and definitely some eyeliner.”

“THE EARLY NINETIES WERE A DIFFICULT TIME FOR ME!” Tony screeched. “FASHION WAS FLUID!”

“Fashion was terrible.” Steve finally took pity on Tony’s futile jumping and set the photo back on the desk. “Buck, you’re not allowed to make fun of me wearing polo’s and khakis in high school anymore. Not now that we know Tony wore eyeliner and lip gloss.”

“I didn’t agree to that.” Bucky said easily. “I’ll make fun of your old man khaki’s till the day I die. Tony, we need to have a serious conversation about your clothing choices.”

“Oh for fucks--” Tony threw up his hands in disbelief. “I don’t see you taking issue with my leggings and aprons and croppy tops!”

“We need to have a serious conversation about your past clothing choices.” Bucky amended. “I’m all about that sweet peach in those leggings.”

“And definitely never stop wearing croppy tops.” Steve interjected. “Oh but weren’t you telling us about a vegan bride?”

“Yeah, did she get mad cos your booty is cuter than her boo--”

Bucky shut up when Tony suddenly leaned in and kissed him-- or rather, leaned up and kissed him. Tony had to stand on his toes and grab both hands in Bucky’s shirt and yank the big brunette down to get their lips together, and it might have been determination on Tony’s part or maybe Bucky being too stunned to resist, but damn it was a hell of a kiss anyway.

“--booty.” Bucky finished lamely when Tony let him go. “I um-- booty. I got uh-- holy crap. I got nothing. Stevie?”

“Too busy to talk, Buck.” Steve took two big steps forward and whirled Tony around, gathering him right up into his chest and bending him over into a long kiss. One hand in Tony’s curls, the other low low over the rise of that irresistible peach, and Tony made an eep! sort of noise when Steve groaned against his tongue.

“That was uh--” the words barely worked, so Tony cleared his throat once or a dozen times and tried again. “--that was just as good as I assumed it would be. Grade a kissers, you two. Good work, team. I wondered if those mouths were good for anything other than flirting and terrible jokes.”

“Uh-huh.” Bucky was still licking the taste of Tony of his lips, pale eyes glowing. “You wanna see what else this mouth is good for?”

Steve cursed like he was choking, palming at his cock through his jeans and hissing out a half desperate, “Bucky! Just a little bit subtle, yeah?”

“Says the guy jerking off through his zipper.” Bucky retorted without taking his eyes off Tony. “So what’s up, sweet thing? Wanna ride my face?”

“BUCKY!”

Tony bit at his lip, ducked his head and peeked up from beneath ridiculously thick lashes, his fingers playing at the strip of skin between the top of his leggings and the bottom of his crop top.

“So um, my vegan bride.” He smothered a giggle when Steve did another one of those mangled curses. “She wanted whip cream frosting and her husband asked what vegan whip cream was and I said air and um--”

Belly button rings had no business being so distracting, but Bucky and Steve almost fell over all the same when Tony’s shirt lifted another inch to show off the brand new cup cake charm.

“--and um, the husband laughed at my joke but the bride apparently doesn’t think veganism is funny in the least or maybe future hubby had made too many jokes already but she flipped out and cancelled the whole thing.”

Tony sucked in a quick breath when Steve jerked forward like he wanted to touch him again. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure I ruined the wedding by making a joke about vegan whipped cream and it was a big job to lose so you know. That’s why I was drinking early.”

“And the kiss?” Bucky held out his hand and crooked his fingers coaxingly. “What was that about?”

“I told you.” Tony lifted one shoulder in a half hearted, teasing shrug. “I wanted to know if your mouth was good for anything other than flirting. Steve? You gonna try out that couch or what?”

“Yeah, I think I should probably sit down.” Steve sat alright, sat and grabbed a throw pillow and placed it over his crotch, thoroughly loving how Bucky’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the all too obvious pillow, and how Tony’s eyes sparked hot and interested at the motion. “Buck. Come sit down. This is definitely the most comfortable couch in the world.”

Tony laughed under his breath when Bucky sat immediately, sprawling back onto the cushions and spreading his legs wide in what could only be an open invitation.

“You two are gorgeous.” Tony said after a long moment of perusal. “And I was right, you sitting on my couches did relax me. Also, I’m apologizing for kissing you without permission but I’d like it to be noted that I am not actually sorry in the least.”

“Noted.”

“I’d also like it to be noted that uh--” Tony drew his finger over a distractingly full bottom lip and nearly purred in pleasure when both men’s mouths fell open in response. “--that while I have every intention of riding the hell outta Bronco’s face--”

“Fuck me, I’m gonna embarrass myself in my pants in like two seconds.” Bucky muttered.

“--and while I would be very much into getting everything beneath that pillow down my throat--”

Steve threw his head back and grit his teeth until his jaw hurt. “Christ, Tony.”

“-- and even though I’m pretty sure I missed the hell outta you two last night and that’s not something I’m willing to think too much about right now?” Tony paused for effect. “I’m still not going to date you. I don’t want a relationship. No way. These last three weeks have been super fun, I’ve had a great time getting to know you both but I’m ready to move past drinking wine together and towards the part where I smear frosting over your dicks and lick it off.”

He waited another beat and finished, “We all have to be on the same page, okay? More importantly, you two need to be on the same page cos I’m not about to ruin a relationship just to get my hands on what I imagine is a combined sixteen inches of grade A beef. Alright? Everyone good with that?”

It took Steve a full three minutes to manage a sentence-- “I wish I could laugh, because that was pretty amazing sass but I’m not actually thinking with anything above my waist. Buck? Got anything?”

“Literally nothing.” Bucky didn’t bother trying. “Nope. Not right now.”

“Okay, well.” Tony straightened his little apron and cleared his throat, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling and preening with satisfaction at having rendered both Steve and Bucky absolutely stupid. “When you two figure it out, why don’t you let me know? I have cake pops to make. Stay as long as you want, but if you’re still here in half an hour I’m gonna make you mop.”

“Uhhhh sure?”

***************

A half hour later, Tony was busy portioning out batter for tomorrow mornings streusel muffins and Bucky was busy washing dishes. Steve was mopping the customer area, slow jazz was playing over the speakers and Tony’s heart was almost pounding out of his chest while he waited for one of them to bring up the conversation from the office.

He hadn’t been lying-- he was more than ready to give Bucky a test drive and definitely was ready to deal with polo’s and khakis if it meant watching Steve come apart via blow job but there was no way-- there was no way Tony wanted a relationship.

Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice....

“We need to have a conversation.” Steve told Bucky as he rolled the mop bucket past the sink. “Tonight.”

“You need to blow me.” Bucky retorted. “Or at least bend over and let me at that ass. I’m not talking about nothin’ while my dick is trying to climb outta my pants, alright? Not happening.”

“That’s fair.” Steve grinned a little bit. “But still. At some point we need to have a conversation.”

“Yep.”

“About Tony.”

“Yeah, no shit, Stevie.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Bucky spun around and kissed Steve square on the lips, holding him close. “I love you, baby. So so much.”

“Hey! Anyone want to come lick my spoon?!” Tony called, and Steve squealed in shock when Bucky chomped down into his lip.

“Bucky! Damn it!”

“Sorry sorry sorry.” Bucky groaned. “I was trying to be sexy but then Tony mentioned spoons and--”

“Okay we need to get you home.”

“Yes we fucking do!”

Tony barely looked up when Bucky and Steve grabbed their jackets, but he froze in place when they each left a gentle kiss on his cheek. “What’s up, guys?”

“We’ll see you tomorrow, alright honey?” Steve swept his fingers down Tony’s back to rest at the bow of his apron. “We’ll be here right at closing.”

“Talk to you real soon, sweet thing.”

“Ooookay.” Tony waved them out the door nonchalantly, easy smiles and casual sips of his wine until they were out of sight down the sidewalk.

Then he grabbed his phone and made a phone call.

“Heya Tones.”

“Heya platypus!” Tony said cheerfully. “Guess who’s gonna get fuckin’ railed tomorrow night?”

There was nothing but horrified silence on Rhodey’s end, then a scream of laughter that could only be Pepper, and when Tony listened a little closer, he could hear general restaurant sounds in the background as well.

“Oh uh--” he coughed. “Out for dinner with Pepper, huh?”

More screams of laughter, and then one of those famous world ending, longest suffering sighs that only Rhodey could pull off.

“I’ll just-- just let you go, hm?”

“Goddammit, Tony.”

*******************

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