#& the floor Under the carpet is apparently really fucked up so I’d Have to pay someone to do it

[ringneckedpheasant]

things I desperately want but cannot afford/don’t have room for:

aforementioned drafting table & desk chair

canopy bed, ideally a four-poster

piano

floor-to-ceiling bookshelf

greenhouse/catio area

worm compost bin

heavy velvet curtains

new carpet :(

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable  ( Jungkook x Oc ) Chapter 8

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3   Chapter 4 Chapter 5   Chapter 6  Chapter 7

Chapter 8

“Heartbreak looks good on you...” My sister commented impishly, watching me slip the teardrop earring into my lobe, the ruby red stone glinting in the dimlight of the bedroom. 

It was a couple of weeks since my uncle had come over and today, all the important clan leaders from around the country would be heading over to pay their respects to him. As one of the oldest surviving vampires, he commanded a lot of respect and no one really wanted to be on his bad side. 

Which just made me love Jungkook all the more because I couldn’t forget how he’d literally thrown himself in between us that day. I wanted to give him  everything  in return but apparently, all i was allowed to give him was space. 

My father had visited me everyday , giving me a very cryptic, ‘ I’ll make sure the two of you get your happy ending, dearest but you need to trust me and stay away for a while. Just a while. ’. 

But it seemed so impossible, so far away and just so unlikely that I was beginning to lose hope. 

It didn’t help that I hadn’t actually seen Jungkook in these two weeks . Namjoon took his place and my only connection to him was Joowon , who told me his father was busy ...that he stayed with Hwasa most evenings . I felt jittery and nervous and even more so today because of the lavish party being hosted in the Grand Ball Room, which was easily the biggest room in the entire estate. The last time it had been opened was for my parent’s wedding a whole two centuries ago.  

For once I couldn’t hide in the daycare in sweats. My uncle apparently insisted that i be present for the party tonight. 

It only made my anxiety skyrocket. 

I was a mess when it came to formal parties with century old vampires. I had all the formal training of course, but still the etiquette lessons were long forgotten and lot of those cranky old bats had very archaic ideas about what was allowed and what wasn’t. 

I  didn’t want some entitled century old vampire pawing at my neck for a drink tonight. I really didn’t. 

But i had done my part. Put on a red dress, the backline dipping all the way down to the base of my spine , let one of the make up artists in the clan have a go at my face and even put on blood red lipstick. 

I grunted , trying to yank the small lace and leather garter up my thigh. It had a holster for a dagger, the small ornate silver one that all the women in the clan carried. The dagger was crafted with the Hwang crest on its handle and I carefully sheathed it in, patting my thigh to make sure it wouldn’t slip down my limb. 

“Don’t make fun of my misery.” I glared at her and she actually laughed. 

“Sera, you feel too much too deeply. Jungkook isn’t going anywhere. He’ll come around. “ She said gently.

I shook my head.

“I don’t want to wait though. I... I don’t know why I hate waiting but I do..”

“He looks like a kinky bastard. Tell me, did you guys try anything ...I don’t know..risky?”

Nothing riskier than getting edged in front of a whole hotel full of guests and then getting fucked in the back of a car. Oh, did I tell you he spit in my mouth? And I loved it.

“Not really.” I lied but I could feel my face heating up as I turned around, back to the mirror as i felt my ears burning.

My sister shrieked so loud I jumped, nearly knocking over the bottle of perfume on the dresser.

“Oh my God, Sera, you naughty little bint! Tell me now!!!” She screeched and i flushed.

Like hell i was telling my sister what we had done.

“It’s private!!” I hissed when she tried to yank me and she laughed. 

“You’re shy... aww that’s cute. But that’s just because you recently got un-virgined . Bet you  can’t wait for him to desecrate your special place again, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows. 

“That is the single most disgusting thing you’ve ever said.” I gagged.

She laughed again. 

“Relax. He was your first. Happens . But like I said, don’t worry about him being serious about this. I think he is. You guys had sex and dad knows that. And yet somehow he’s still walking around with his had attached to his shoulders. Do you really think father would have let him live if he didn’t have feelings for you?”

I frowned.

“That’s not fair. It was consensual. He didn’t force me into anything or tell me he had feelings ....”

She scoffed at that. 

“Please tell me you still don’t think he hasn’t got feelings for you. He went batshit-crazy when you went on that date with Yugyeom. Jimin thought he was having a stroke or something. Dude’s so gone for you it isn’t even funny.”

“ Fat lot of good that does me! ” I snapped. “ If he doesn’t acknowledge those feelings he might as well not have any. And so far he’s made it abundantly clear that he’s not going to act on them. Ever.” 

“Because he’s clearly involved in something dangerous.” She said easily, making me blink.  “I’m not supposed to be telling you this but I’m kind of sick of you moping around like the world is ending and I’m just going to trust you to be smart about it.”

“What do you mean dangerous?” I whirled around to glare at her, pulse racing. 

“I have no clue. Dad and Jungkook are working on something.  But they’ve been huddled in the administrative building for three days now and no one has seen them . So i don’t really know what it is they’re planning. But I’ve always wondered if Jungkook was hiding from something. It would explain why he’d work as a bodyguard...with his skills he could be so much more.  ”

Frustration bloomed,  this time laced with worry. I wanted to know what was going on. God, if i could only see him. A glimpse would be enough. Just to make sure he was okay. Just to hear from him that he was okay. That he was going to be safe. 

“Think he’ll be at the party?”  I asked softly, feeling a whole lot pathetic at the way my heart lurched hopefully. 

My sister gave me a very mischievous smile. 

“Maybe . Maybe not. You look ravishing by the way.  And everyone out there wants you. Literally. Don’t forget that. Don’t be easy. Make him beg a little. ” She winked. 

I frowned. 

“He won’t beg. He’ll turn the tables around and make me cry.” I shuddered.  . Which really wouldn’t be that hard . I felt like I was always on the verge of tears these days. 

The knock on the door made us both look up. 

“Who’s escorting you tonight?” My sister asked gently. 

I shrugged. 

“No one. I’m just gonna walk in there by myself because I hate all of you. ” I grabbed the small bejeweled clutch from the table and hesitated just a second. 

God , I had no strength for tonight but there was a possibility that Jungkook could be there tonight. And I wanted to see him, if for no other reason than to kick him in the teeth. 

 I slipped into the strappy peep toe heels, stumbling a little because i wasn’t used to them. 

Swearing at the sharp pain shooting up my heel and shin, I wrenched the door open. Ignoring the simpering man on the other side, i stalked right past him. 

It was going to be a long , long night 

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

The ballroom looked ....for lack of a better word : overwhelming. 

Whoever was in charge of the decoration had clearly taken the budget, quadrupled it and then pretty much ordered one of everything. I stared at the sheer overdose of satin and gauze and felt myself shuddering. 

Red and black was the theme for the night and I half wished I’d chosen to wear something in turquoise blue just to give my eyes some sort of relief. But there was no denying that it looked especially lavish, the huge hall big enough to fit a dozen foot ball fields, the high ceiling that seemed to stretch right up to the heavens and the million candelabras and chandeliers hung all over the place. 

The carpeted floors felt soft under my foot and it was still early, only a few pople flitting about while the ushers and helpers rushed about, tweaking deatils, rechecking placement charts, placing refreshments on the table. Small bottles of blood arranged neatly on the table and I rolled my shoulders, eyes darting around to find someone familiar. 

Kim Minjae and Kim Mingyu were just entering the hall and I grimaced. God, no. But i watched as they casually posed in front of the blood red backdrop, while cameras flashed and i frowned. Were supernatural tabloids really that starved for material? 

“Sera, go on, you need to get your picture taken too!” My aunt materialized out of nowhere , dressed in a puffy red gown with ruffles and I shook my head. 

“Later... i need a drink.” I said quickly, escaping her clingy fingers and rushing away . 

As the only human in the entire damn place, I would have to walk all the way to the bar on the far corner of the ballroom to beg for a drink. 

I was half way there when a commotion at the door made me look up. My father had arrived with him a majority of his counsel and a bunch of other guests as well. I stared, my eyes zeroing in on a very familiar figure , my father’s arm wrapped around his shoulder.

Jeon Jungkook stood right next to my father dressed to the nines and with a dazzling smile in place. 

I gawked at him. 

Trying to process what it was that I was seeing. 

He was smiling. He had the audacity to smile after ignoring me for two whole weeks. 

I took a deep breath.

“You better have a pretty darn good explanation for the radio silence you treated me to the past two weeks. “ I intoned dully to myself , trying to ignore the way he looked, completely at ease in the spotlight. 

He turned a little to the left and his gaze caught mine. I watched as he smiled and shook hands with the people around him before whispering something to my father. 

I dug my heels into the floor, glaring as he extricated himself from the elite crowd and slowly began walking over. God, i wanted to kick him so bad. 

He stopped in front of me, looking expectant and my anger merely doubled in intensity. 

“Anything you wanna say, Jeon?” I snapped. 

“You’re beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Red is your color, angel. I wanna see you in it more often. “ He answered at once. 

My mind went distressingly blank for a whole thirty second. 

“ Did i fucking offer? ” I demanded , angry. “ I’m not dressing up for you. Ever. You ignored me for two entire weeks Jungkook! i didn’t know where you were...what you were doing...” 

“Sera, I’m sor -” He began but I squawked in disbelief, shoving him away hard. He stumbled, more in surprise than from the impact but he looked surprised .  

I felt myself shaking in anger. How dare he?

“Oh, no. No. You do not get to waltz back in with a simple sorry.... not after treating me like shit the past two weeks...Absolutely not.” I snarled, shoving him again but this time he didn’t budge. Ugh. 

I made to move past him but he grabbed my elbow , yanking me back till I crashed into his chest. It was humiliating , the way my body practically vibrated with pleasure from being near him. His arms around me felt like heaven and I’d spent two whole weeks in purgatory. 

“You need to stay with me Ms. Hwang. I’m your bodyguard, remember?” He whispered, lips pressing against my neck, breathing in my scent  and I glared at his arms.

“No you’re not. Namjoon is!! Where is he?” I asked angrily , but he pulled me closer, hands resting on the bare skin of my back as he hugged me tight, lips latching onto my neck, breathing deep and my knees buckled. i had missed this. So much and even if this was all i got, I wanted to savor it. Savor it even if I hated him for the way he treated me all the fucking time.  

“Missed you.” He whispered, lips wet and wanting , damp on my skin as he pressed kisses along my shoulder. I loved it but I knew he was going to leave me again and that just made me angrier. 

“You’re a liar.” I choked out. 

“No. I’ve lied about a lot of things but never about how you’ve made me feel, Sera. You set me on fire.”

I choked, anger and affection flooding my senses, confounding me because it was like being caught in an endless game of push and pull. 

I trembled, fists punching his shoulder in protest but he didn’t move. I could feel eyes on us and it made me flush. How dare he... How fucking dare he. 

“Let go of me! You said you don’t want me so let me go!” I said petulantly and he made a small noise of protest. 

“That’s not true angel...you know it’s not. I want you... Want you so damn bad , i ache with it.” He whispered the words into my skin and I bristled. 

“Fucking liar, let go of me!” i was going to cry. Actually burst into tears in the middle of the ballroom. 

He didn’t let go of me. 

Instead his fingers fluttered down my bare back, feather light and maddening , tracing a path down my bare skin and I gripped is jacket at the electric contact. 

i trembled, my thighs shaking but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much I wanted him. I swallowed, shaking my head. 

There was no music and we weren’t even near the dance floor. I couldn’t imagine how we must look to the people around us. But it was hard to think of that when I could feel him all over my body, could feel his heartbeat pulse right against mine and when his arms felt like an anchor , grounding me . 

“You think I need you.” My voice shook a little, “ I really fucking don’t Jungkook and I want you to remember that. I don’t need you. I don’t need to touch you . I’m fine with you never touching me ever again. ” I lied, gripping him harder. 

My words didn’t match my actions at all and he seemed to realize it, chuckling lightly and letting me press myself closer into his warm, solid body. He kept his arms around me, waist pressed into mine and thighs hard and solid against mine.

“I know that... i need you far more than you need me.” He said sweetly, kissing my brow and stroking my hair. He slipped his fingers into the strands, running the silky length between his fingertips , his voice brimming with fondness . It hurt, the fact that I couldn’t have this all the time. 

That somehow I was only offered glimpses of this Jungkook. Little snapshots of a what our life together could be but when I tried to draw closer, he always pulled away. 

I glared at him wanting to demand more answers 

. And then my eyes fell on the small dagger sheathed into his belt. My sister’s words floated into my mind. Was Jungkook running from something? 

“Are you in danger?” I whispered, softly. “ Darling, i need to know if you’re in trouble. I need to know.” 

He trembled a little at the endearment. 

“Baby, I’m going to be fine. Don’t worry about me alright. It’s important that you stay safe. “

The words brought no comfort of any kind. 

I stared at him. 

“What is it with the people around me spewing platitudes in my face without telling me what is going on! Do you just not trust me?” I asked desperately, hurt blooming. 

Jungkook swallowed.

“i trust you with my entire life Sera. But, I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He said gently.

I rolled my eyes. 

“Please....you’re five centuries old , so can you leave the whole cliché knight in shining armor back in the dark ages and just treat me like your equal? I’m not a helpless damsel in distress Jungkook...!!” 

He nodded, reaching for me again but I pulled away, wrapping an arm around myself. He hesitated, hands stretched out to touch but hovering a few inches away . 

“you’re right. I was out of line. But to be fair your father was very firm that I had to stay away from you...no contact of any kind till tonight. “

“And what’s so special about tonight.?” I asked , upset at how little i knew about what was going on. Jungkook’s gaze softened, and he pressed a palm to my cheek, thumb tracing circles on my jaw, before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. 

“ You’ll see. “ He smiled, “ And as for the rest of it, we’ll talk about this . I promise. We will....tonight after everything ends. I need to go now. Your father’s waiting for me,” 

I clung to him, feeling abandoned all over again. 

“What are you guys upto?” I grabbed his arm but he gently pulled my fingers away. 

“I’ll come find you. “ Was all he said before moving away and I groaned in disbelief. 

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

“Uh oh. I can recognize that look. On a scale of one to ten , how much trouble is Jeon Jungkook in?” Namjoon asked gently, watching me glare daggers at the man in question as he hung around near the front of the hall, surrounded by clan leaders.

 He was meeting everyone, apparently a social butterfly and i couldn’t fathom it. The last time we’d had a party he’d sneaked off to get laid with Helena. 

Speaking of who,

“She’s going to castrate him. I can feel it.” The sultry eyed vampire, sat next to me, her long nails tapping the scarlet drape of the table as she watched me, eyes heavy and hot, gaze trained on my neck.

 I’d never felt more like prey. 

“ Nice to meet you Helena.” Namjoon said casually taking the seat next to me. Great.  I was caught between two vampires that knew exactly how gone I was for Jungkook and exactly how ....not gone he was for me.  The night just kept getting better. 

��Always a pleasure daddy.” Helena said , eyes dancing with wicked mischief and Namjoon choked on his wine, spewing it all over the table. I stared at the pair in disgust. 

“Disgusting.” I snapped. “Look at him. He hasn’t looked at me in an hour. How am i supposed to believe that he wants me so much I set his skin on fire.” I demanded shrilly. 

Both of them went quiet. They looked very uncomfortable and i felt myself flush. 

I glared at them , self conscious. 

“What?! Jungkook said so himself.” I protested. 

Both of them began guffawing. 

“I’m never letting him live this down.” Namjoon chuckled and I rolled my eyes. I could feel eyes on me, everywhere. Everyone’s gaze flitted to me every few minutes. Some of the younger vampires hovered a discreet distance away but had their gazes trained on me . 

Everyone looked at me except Jungkook. There really was no justice in this god forsaken world, was there? 

Did he really think I was weak and harmless? I suddenly felt foolish . I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t powerless. 

So , so far from it in fact.

I didn’t use my abilities because of how morally ambiguous they were. My father had drilled it into my head, right from childhood, that I couldn’t use my powers without explicit permission from him and I had listened to him. 

Had played the role of the harmless human who just happened to have really intoxicating blood inside her veins. 

But somehow that had ended up with me being pushed out of the loop with the man I loved. Jungkook thought I was some kind of helpless damsel he needed to keep safe and it just...it irked me. 

It was laughable that he thought something could be dangerous to me. 

It was laughable because I  was  easily the most dangerous creature in this entire room. 

i pulled my phone out, texting furiously.

 I want to see you. 

 I stared at Jungkook waiting for him to see. He pulled his phone out read the screen and to my utter chagrin he slipped the phone back in without answering.

 All right, That’s it.  

I stood up slowly, Namjoon stiffening next to me. 

“Where are you going? “ He asked warily. 

“To mingle.” I said casually. “ you can stay here, daddy. I’ll be fine by myself. “

He spluttered again and Helena laughed lowly. 

“I like her. “ Her voice rang out and i smirked, making a beeline to wards the front of the room, where Jungkook stood with a few other vampires around the same age as him. They all straightened at the sight of me, lust evident in their eyes and I saw Jungkook go a little stiff when he noticed I was alone.

“Where’s Namjoon?” He said shortly. 

“With Helena.” i said with a shrug.” Evening gentlemen.” I smiled softly, parting my lips lightly, letting my tongue dart out and wet them before leaving them parted, tongue peeking out. 

Jungkook pressed in closer, arm darting to wrap around my waist but he seemed to think better of it, pulling away again. 

“Sera...” He began warningly but i cut him off. Jungkook didn’t know what he had. 

And I was too fucking beautiful to be ignored tonight. 

“Isn’t someone starting the music? What a terrible bore this party has been...” I said loudly and the men scrambled closer, almost tripping over each other. 

Pathetic really but at least they served their purpose. 

“Should we get you another drink, Sera?” One of them said. 

“Let me go find that Dj...” The tallest of the lot wandered off. 

“You’re right..are you hungry..? Where’s that waiter?” The one right next to me lifted a hand, waving the nearest uniformed helped and I smirked at Jungkook. 

“Having fun?” I asked. 

“You need to go stay with Namjoon.” He said stiffly.

“where’s the fun in that? “ I hesitated, locking my eyes with him and lightly lifting my heel up to rest on the chair right next to him. The slit in my dress fell open, exposing the entire length of my leg, especially the red lace of my garter. 

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the dagger strapped to my thigh, the red and gold stark against the milky white flesh. I rand a forefinger up from my knee to the top of the garter belt, lightly circling the tip over the sharp edge of the dagger. 

“Don’t...” He growled. I smirked.

“Don’t what?” I whispered. 

“Don’t fucking do it, baby... I’ll be really , really mad if you do. “ He was almost shaking with the effort to not grab me and i could feel it. Feel the urge to put me in my place, simmering beneath his skin but he was helpless. 

Any wrong move on me and he would have a dozen daggers in his heart within the next second. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about .” I feigned ignorance, purposefully pressing the thick of my finger into the edge of the dagger, gasping as it broke skin, tearing my flesh and drawing out my blood. 

A collective gasp ran through the crowd around us and it was quite the sight, an entire group of century old Vampires going stiff as boards,  nostrils flared pupils blown wide open as they all stared at me .

 I smiled wide, trying to inject a note of contrition into my voice. 

“Oops. That was clumsy of me. .” I giggled, holding my finger up. the blood beaded over and spilled , trickling down my wrist and I locked my gaze with Jungkook’s, bringing my arm up, licking the scarlet fluid up, tracing its path with my tongue all the way to where the dagger had nicked me before sticking the finger into my mouth with a lewd pop. 

A vampire, about three feet away from me was breathing heavily , grabbing the chair next to him and sinking into it. His fangs were out and his breathing was erratic. i watched his eyes flash red and I laughed.

“I’m sorry. “ I said sweetly and he gave me a blank smile.

“That’s alright, my lady . “ He was almost choking from the effort to stay composed. Poor thing. I let my gaze flit back to Jungkook who had a terrifyingly blank look on his face. 

“You little whore.” Jungkook whispered softly and i lurched. 

“Yours . If you want me. But if you don’t...then anyone’s really.” I shrugged unrepentant. 

“Really? You think any of the vampires here’s gonna want you after the stunt you just pulled? No one wants a needy little slut.” He said casually but I could see him shaking a little. There was a teeny tiny crack in that cocky attitude and I’d never wanted to stick my fingers in something so bad. 

I felt myself grin in anticipation. 

“It’s not about what I think, Jungkook. Its about what I  know.” 

He stared at me. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You think I’m helpless, Jungkookie.... But the truth is... I can turn every single person here into my own personal  marionette if i wanted to. “ I shrugged. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows lifted, lips parting in surprise. 

“I’m listening.” 

I moved to the table in the corner, patting the chair next to me. He took the seat next to me and I smiled. 

“Now watch....” I snapped my fingers, signaling the waiter with the glass jar of lemon soda  and vodka in his tray. 

“Can you let my father know I want to leave the party early with Jungkook here?” I asked gently. The waiter flushed, but nodded and I casually slipped my finger into the lemonade jar, dipping lightly in the fluid.

Jungkook grimaced . 

“That’s disgusting.” 

I laughed. 

“Now let’s see who gets to drink it.” I followed the waiter as he moved around stopping in front of a group of very young vampires, about four or five of them. Two girls and three guys. They all took glasses of vodka from the waiter and i sighed.

“You know what makes my blood so powerful Jungkookie? “ I said softly. “ It’s the fact that it is  sentient.” 

Jungkook went stock still still next to me, lips parting in shock.

“What?” He croaked. 

I nodded.

“My blood is sentient. It can feel and see and control. If my blood mixes with yours, it will dominate your thoughts and feelings. I will literally take over you. But it also needs my instruction. So it’ll put you in a trance..... Leave you feeling boneless and disoriented , easier to manipulate. People think its because it tastes so good and they enjoy the feeling. They don’t know what the fuck they’re opening themselves up to...by letting me inside. “ I wrapped my arms around myself. 

“I’m painted as the beautiful, kind and precious human who needs to be protected....only because I am anything  but. In this room, Jungkook....I’m probably the one capable of wrecking the most havoc.” 

“Sera...”

“Nobody knows except for my father and I because...well... just the scent of it makes people chase me down. Can you imagine what they’d do to me if they knew the true extent of my powers.” I said bitterly. I let my gaze shift back to the kids with the drinks. The drinks that were tainted with my life essence.  

I watched them take sips of their drink and felt the mild tingling in the back of my head. Like a gossamer thread forming and wrapping around me and I swallowed. It was easy to ignore and I never had any trouble ignoring it when I let my family feed from me. Because I trusted them. 

But these kids though. My body thrummed, focusing on one person. 

The girl in the red halter top. 

“See the girl with the red top and black skirt....” I swallowed. “ She slit the throat of an old woman on her way here.” 

Jungkook swore next to me. 

“I can see the woman... she’s on her knees , begging for her life. She’s really old.” 

That wasn’t all. i could feel the grip of the dagger, the push of the blade against skin, the pull as the flesh gave in, the blood spurting out onto my fingers the scent of death as she bled out. 

I felt nausea bubble and I severed the connection forcibly. The girl’s pretty face didn’t match her filthy insides. i couldn’t stay in her head. The tendrils began wrapping around my head as  the four of them took more sips. 

“When I want... i can influence their thoughts. It takes more effort but it’s possible. it’s why my father wanted to make sure you actually wanted to be with me. He thought I’d coerced you . which I can . if I want. But I didn’t. I don’t do that ever. ” I shook my head. 

Jungkook’s brows raised. 

“By coerce you mean....”

“It can be as simple as influence your decision... but if I really put in the effort, i can make people physically do what I wanted. “ 

“Physically?”

I smiled.

“Remember the boys from my college ? the ones who nearly drained me out?” 

He nodded. 

“My father didn’t have them defanged. They did it to themselves. Literally stuck their own hand into their mouth and ripped their fangs out . Because I wanted them too.” 

Jungkook looked like he’d stopped breathing. 

I swallowed.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to tell you that if you’re trying to protect me by withholding information, its kind of unnecessary. I can take care of myself.” 

“Alright. What do you want to know?”

“Just tell me what’s going on  “ I sighed.  Jungkook gave me a piercing look. 

“Remember Joo Won’s mother?” 

“The witch you killed?”

“Her father’s out for my blood. He doesn’t know where I am as of now. Your father thinks one of his lackeys must be in attendance today so he’ll know where I am.... and  he’ll come for me. And when he does... I’m going to end it .”

I stared at him.

“ Okay. “ I swallowed. “ How dangerous is he?” 

Jungkook laughed without mirth. 

“I’m not sure if I’m coming out of this alive.” 

Blood rushed to my ears, so fast I felt momentarily lightheaded. My entire body rejected the mere idea of Jungkook getting hurt. And to hear him talk of it so lightly, it messed me up badly. The fragile hold I had on my mind snapped. 

“No.” I said angrily. 

Across the room, the girl in the red halter stumbled,  clutching her head .

  Anger and the urge to hurt clawed up inside me and I tried to get it under control. 

Fuck, I had to sever the connection fully before i did something terrible to her..

 But it wasn’t happening, 

In fact the more i tried to get away the more her conscience seemed to be wrapping around mine., 

 Distance. I had to put distance between us. 

I need to leave now,  I pushed the thought in through the connection and  i watched her as she stumbled away from her friends, hands buried in her hair.

“Sera what the fuck... “ Jungkook grabbed my arm, eyes wide and panicked and I trembled. 

I felt guilty and scared because there was a reason i didn’t do this and the reason was quite simple. This power...or whatever you wanted to call it, It was bigger than me. I couldn’t control it . 

My blood was sentient and sometimes it could control me , just as easily as it controlled others. 

“She’s just leaving... I just made her leave because I’m not .. I can’t. ...fuck...” My head swam as I tried to get my bearings. 

“ okay that’s it...we’re getting out of here.... ” Jungkook stood up, reaching for me and I blinked, disoriented and dizzy. “Come here, baby I got you...” 

I let him wrap his hand around my waist, half lifting , half dragging me out of the ballroom and into the hallway. I gripped his chest, stumbling. I wasn’t tired, just struggling to get my head on straight . 

But the scent of him calmed me. 

“I need you.” I whispered. “ I need you to be safe Jungkook. I’ve spent too long pretending to be something I’m not but with you... I’m.. You... You make me feel human. Truly human. “ 

“Fuck... hang on. I’m gonna take you to my cottage.”

I blinked

“your what?”

“My cottage. Hang on...”

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

By the time Jungkook opened the door to the cottage, I felt a little like myself again. But my body thrummed , my skin on fire, my fingers trembling with adrenaline. 

“you look like you need to lie down.” He said gently.

I glared at him. 

“The last thing I need is to lie down.” I snapped.

He held his hands up.

“Alright. Calm down, baby..... Why are you so upset?” He asked soothingly and I scoffed.

“ You fucked me in public and the next day  you looked like you’d been handed a death sentence, when my father suggested that you court me and then... you disappeared for two whole weeks....and now you turn up and tell me that your life is in danger. You do all this shit and I’m  not allowed to be upset? ” I said angrily.

He hesitated. 

“I merely meant it would be dangerous. I am not actively trying to die.” He said softly.

“As for the rest of it.... I’m not the same person I was a month ago Sera.... You.. You’ve managed to claw you way into my heart and the only reason I didn’t want to court you was because of what I was involved in. I told you that...the baggage I’m carrying is too much for me to even think about being with you.... That’s the only reason. “

I stared at him. 

“Are you telling me you fell for me too?”

Jungkook smirked a little.

“You were fucking me all the time without touching me. How could I not fall for that utterly shameless gaze of yours. You were your heart on your sleeve and your heart is always filled with filthy thoughts about me Sera. You make it way too obvious. “ He said teasingly. 

“I don’t want you to die.” I said petulantly. 

“That makes two of us. “ He smiled. “ What do you want, Sera?” 

“Want you.” I said automatically, too raw and upset to think too much about it.

“You have me.” He stepped closer, hands resting on my shoulder, eyes earnest and i hated how much I wanted to believe him . But heartbreak after heartbreak after heartbreak had taught me that it was all a lie. I didn’t have him and now ....there was a possibility I could never have him. 

“No, I don’t.” I shook my head, angry. “ Don’t lie to me. I don’t have you.” 

Jungkook made to touch me again but I shoved him away, hard.

“you’re angry. “ He said thoughtfully. “ I understand that. You have every right to be angry. And I’m sorry I can’t tell you what you want to hear right now...Not until this whole debacle ends. But Sera...look at me...”

I bit my lips staring at him.

“I’m here. Now. I’m not going anywhere. It’s just us. You and I. Don’t worry about what happens next. Don’t. Let’s not worry about any of that. I’m here and I’m telling you I’m yours. You have me now.” 

I stared at him, tilting my head as I took him in. 

He didn’t move , merely staring at me evenly.

“You know.... you aren’t the only one who hates being ignored.” I said softly. 

I felt weird. 

Different. 

None of the usual nervousness or anticipation but instead a sort of burning need to  take. To reach out and pin him down , force him to follow through on his promise that I  had him. 

“ I’ve been giving too much of myself to you, Jungkook ...for way too long. I think it’s time I get something back.” I whispered. 

His lips curled in a small, impish smile and he looked a decade younger. His eyes flashed with mischief and anticipation. He looked eager....desperate even and I wondered if this is what I looked like all the time with him. 

“And what would that be...my queen?” he whispered meekly. 

“You. “ I said simply. “ All of you. Your words... your pain...your pleasure... your moans and your very breath. I want to take all of it.” 

I could see his pupils dilating even from the distance between us. 

“Its yours, sweetheart” Jungkook  bowed his head gently, holding his arms out. “Tell me where you want me...how you want me...” 

I glanced around the room. Not the bed. Not yet. 

There was a very sturdy looking chair in front of the small table in the corner. 

“Put that in the middle of the room and sit down.” I pointed at the chair. 

He smiled.

“You want me to stay dressed?” He asked carefully and I nodded. 

“Very well.” He moved to get the chair, placing it in  front of the bed. He sat down carefully. 

“Anything else?” He asked gently.

I narrowed my eyes at him 

“Yes. Keep your mouth shut unless I ask you something.” I said with a smile. His eyes widened in surprise. But he didn’t protest. 

I took in the sight of him on the chair, dressed in his perfectly fitted tux , legs spread and hands on his knees, eyes wide and alert as he stared at me. Pretty red mouth shut obediently. 

I moved closer till I was standing right between his thighs. His hands came up to grip my waists instinctively and I glared.

“Hands’ to yourself Jungkook. You don’t just get to treat me as you fucking like and then touch me without my permission.” I snapped. 

He lowered his hands , letting them rest on his knees again.

“Do you want to touch me , baby?” I whispered pressed my palm to his face before letting my fingers trail up to his hair. it was soft and silky to the touch, the strands like fine silk. 

“Yes.” He answered simply. 

“Then you need to earn it.” I threaded my fingers' into his raven locks, gripping hard and yanking his head back . i stared, fascinated by the ivory length of his neck, the little mole there and i pressed a kiss to his skin. I let my teeth sink in , just a little and then a little bit more. When he shifted, I pulled back, licking the skin to soothe the sting.  His breath caught and he gasped, eyes widening a bit and a small, ‘ fuck’ leaving his lips. 

I pulled back , keeping my fingers in his hair , gripping lightly, before reaching down with my free hand. 

“You have such a pretty neck and it make me wonder what it feels for your kind...sinking your teeth into people and feeding from them. Too bad I don’t have fangs. But you know what I do have?” I winked . 

I brought my leg up, the front end of my shoe resting on the small empty space on the chair , right in the V if his legs. If he moved even a little, my toes would brush the straining length of his cock visible even through the black of his slacks. He was so hard I knew it must’ve hurt. 

I gripped his hair harder and tilted his head down to he could stare at my thighs, specifically the dagger in my garter. 

“I want a taste . Of you. Can I?” I asked gently staring at him, fingers fiddling with the dagger and unsheathing it. 

He nodded. 

“Words. Please.” I smiled.

“Yes...fuck yes.....please...Sera...” 

“Good boy.” I winked, bringing the dagger up to his neck. It was really sharp and I used the tip to lightly draw a small dash, an inch below his ear. I watched the blade tear through the flesh, light and delicate, the skin cleaving and scarlet liquid bubbling up. I chased the flow with my tongue, licking it into my mouth and Jungkook trembled in the chair, jerking forward.

The movement jolted my foot onto his crotch and he grunted, grabbing my ankle when I made to move it away, keeping my heeled foot on his clothed cock. I swallowed,  little out of my league but i stared at him, at the sheer intensity of the desperation in his eyes and I inhaled ....before gently bringing my toes down to press into his cock. 

He moaned, thighs trembling and I  dropped the dagger to the floor.

I slipped both my hands into his hair, holding his head in place as i bent low to capture his lips with mine, sticking my tongue inside his mouth while grinding my foot down into his cock. I licked into his mouth, chasing the warm heady taste of him, my fingers tightening in his hair for leverage and I wondered if he was wet.... If his cock was weeping precum, dribbling into his slacks .

I pulled back to stare into his eyes but he had them shut.

“Look at me.!” i demanded,”  wanna see you...” 

His eyes fluttered open, doe- like and warm and swimming with pleasure and I’d never felt more powerful in my life. I moved my foot slowly, in small controlled circles for a few seconds. 

“You wanna cum in your pants like this? Rutting on my foot like a little mutt? Or do you want to get on the bed and touch me like you wanted to...?” I whispered softly. 

Jungkook swallowed and his fingers tightened on my ankle. . 

“Wanna cum like this.” He said taking me by surprise. I raised an eyebrow. 

“Really... then what about me...?  I want to get fucked too Jungkook ..? How’re you gonna do that if you cum so fast.....” I snapped, gripping his hair harder and he groaned. 

“I... I’ll fuck you again... i promise.. I’ll fuck you hard and make you feel good... just..let me cum...please.. It fucking hurts...” The way his voice cracked a bit on the last few words made my heart jerk inside my ribs. I found myself fighting the urge to give him everything. 

I smiled instead, kissing his lips again.

“Thank God for fast refractory periods huh, my big bad vampire?” I bit his lips, tugging it between my teeth , before reaching between us and slipping the shoe off my foot. Jungkook trembled, gripping me for support when I pulled my foot away and I let him cling to me for a second, before dropping the shoe down and pressing my bare foot on his erection. I spread my toes over the head, pressing down just a little and he inhaled sharply when i circled my toe on the wet patch . 

“Go on them. Make yourself cum.” I whispered, leaning down and kissing him again. He grabbed my ankle with both hands, rutting up into the balls of my feet, hips thrusting up and I let him lick into my mouth, messy and wet as he chased his pleasure. 

I felt him stiffen underneath me, followed by a wash of dampness under my sole and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close and letting him bury his face into my neck as he trembled through the aftershocks. He gripped my waist, hands shaking as he held me and i waited, worried if I should take my foot off or not. I could feel my legs beginning to cramp and I swallowed.

“You okay?” i whispered.

“Yeah.” He grunted. “ Fuck..that was...” he laughed a little. 

“We’re not done.” I said pressing a kiss to his cheeks and stroking his hair back gently. 

He hummed, gently gripping my ankle and lifting my foot off his crotch. I brought my leg down, wincing a bit. 

“Should we get on the bed?” He whispered. 

I nodded, yelping when he stood up with me still in his arms, he carried me over to the bed, dropping me lightly. 

“Strip.” I said quickly. “ All of it. Want you naked and stretched out on this bed for me.” 

He moved quickly, stepping out of his clothes with ease and I sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing the black tie he discarded. I took off my panties, leaving my dress and the garter belt on. 

 Jungkook naked was a sight i could never tire off and I watched as he climbed into the bed, lying down in the center, legs splayed slightly and hands by his side. 

“Bring your wrists together up over your head” I said quickly and he moved his wrists up , letting me tie them to the head board with his tie as i sat straddled on his chest. I was wet, sopping wet and I felt the trail of dampness I left on his rock hard abs. 

“I’m gonna sit on your face and you’re gonna make me cum. And then , I’m gonna ride you .” I whispered. 

“Fuck.” 

“That’s the plan.”

I scooted forward, resting one knee close to either shoulder before gripping the head board with one hand and the hair on top of his head with the other. Tugging him closer, I lowered my pussy onto his mouth, groaning when i felt soft pressure of his tongue against my center, licking tentatively. 

Jungkook knew what he was doing, and he licked into me with practiced ease tongue slipping into my slit, curling against the walls, before tracing circles around my clit. He used his lips to suckled on the hardened nub , following it up with quick little licks and i slipped a hand between my legs, stuffing three fingers into my cunt to get myself off faster. 

“Oh...fuck... I want... “ I could feel myself shaking and he sped up his movement, licking my lit in quick little strokes and my orgasm hit me like a wave, drowning me in pleasure. I scooted down before losing my strength, collapsing on top of him. The orgasm having knocked me right out of my headspace. I was trembling and shaking, lethargic and completely out of it. 

”Baby...you okay?” Jungkook’s concerned voice came from above and I whimpered. 

“I’m... I’m sorry.... I’m so tired... I...” 

“Don’t worry baby .. i got you. “

I heard the sound of wood splintering and blinked, glancing up. Jungkook had tugged his hands free from the restraint, breaking the headboard in the process. 

I gawked at the scene in disbelief. 

“Did you just....?”

He grabbed the hem of my dress, ripping it up and off me quickly. 

“Fuck..... want to pound you into the fucking mattress my little princess... Such a little tiger aren’t you kitten... so fierce and hot... i loved it baby...you were so good to me ...made me feel so fucking good...” He maneuvered me onto my back and i felt myself blushing at the praise, face heating up as i gripped his shoulders. 

He grabbed the back of my thigh, spreading my legs before lining himself up against my pussy. 

“Fuck...” He slid right in , knocking the breath out of me and i clung to him, whimpering as he pounded into me, hips working so fact I was sure I was going to have trouble walking for a week after this. 

I could feel my orgasm build from the sheer intensity of the thrusts, the hard thick length of his cock pounding into my cunt till i felt swollen and bruised and tender and when it finally tore through me , i was drooling a little, eyes damp with tears and fingers numb from gripping him too hard. 

Jungkook fucked me through the orgasm and chased his own each push of his hips leaving me battered and I bit my lips to stay conscious . When he finally stilled, his cock throbbing as he came for the second time, filling my insides with the wet warmth of his cum, I felt myself shake like a leaf caught in a  storm, my entire body ice cold and trembling. A thin layer of sweat coated my body and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t recover from this for a really long time

“My pretty pretty queen....” He whispered , pressing kisses all over my face as he hugged me closer and I mewled at the warmth of him. 

“Don’t leave me .” i whispered, unable to fight the tug of sleep and exhaustion. 

“I’m right here, baby.” His voice was soothing against my ear as he held me closer. 

Maybe I could have him after all. 

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

Author’s note : okay. well. that happened.  if you don’t give me feedback this will be the last smut scene. 

jk

but please do give me feedback . i love hearing from you guys. 

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

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[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 38

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You deal with the consequences of Bucky's actions.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Angst, whump, violence

AO3

You didn’t return home that night. The sorcerers wanted to monitor your vitals and made sure you were stabilized after the shock of the bond being suppressed. The agony you’d experienced hadn’t hurt you physically, even though it had felt like dying.

Now you felt… lost. You weren’t even numb, because being numb meant you at least knew what you were feeling. This was different and so much worse.

At least twice an hour you lifted you head from where you laid in the bed, some part of you yearning, reaching out to Bucky and expecting him to be there. But there was nothing across the bond, across the thread you hadn’t realized was there until it was gone.

The mark was still on your shoulder, but it appeared dormant. Faded pink like a fresh scar. The sorcerers said it had worked and you would no longer be compelled to be fed upon.

All you did was give a vague nod. You hadn’t spoken a word since Bucky had been frozen.

Rogers, for his part, never strayed far. He was clearly off-balance with the situation and didn’t seem to know what to do any more than you did. Bucky had sprung this on you both, and the angry part of you said he’d abandoned you to pick up the pieces yourself.

Perhaps it was cruel and unfair of you to feel that way, but anger was better than despair. You were too empty and wrung-out to cry, and perhaps that was a blessing.

It was well into the early hours of the morning when you finally dozed off, and when you woke before noon, Rogers had fallen asleep in the armchair by the bed. Just like Bucky had done when you’d woken up in this room the first time.

But he wasn’t Bucky. He could never be a substitute. A part of you wondered if that’s what Bucky had been thinking when he’d contacted Rogers. Maybe he hadn’t gone that far, but asking his best friend to “care for his girl” while he was gone sounded like some old chivalrous bullshit that he might pull. Goddammit, he might have even said as much to Rogers, assuring him that it was all right if you “moved on.”

You eyed the blond Avenger and grimaced.

When Bucky unfreezes, I’m going to punch him in his beautiful fucking face.

The thought was surprisingly reassuring, because it meant you truly believed he would wake up. In fact, you were going to guarantee it, even if you had to take matters into your own hands. Bucky had mentioned a library, and Strange was supposed to re-test you and teach you, whatever that meant.

Which meant you would be in the Sanctum on a regular basis…

…which also meant you could not only do some research on your own, you could visit every day.

They would let you visit, wouldn’t they? You didn’t know, but at least you could reassure yourself that the bond had nothing to do with your feelings for Bucky. They were as solid as ever, which was both a relief and a curse. His absence was already heavy in your chest, and it felt more akin to grief than just simply missing someone.

You got out of bed, seizing onto the determination to start, today, to help Bucky. It was New Year’s, after all. Time to get a fucking move on.

“Hey, Rogers. Wake up.” You nearly kicked his shoe but refrained, which was probably a good thing considering your voice alone startled him awake.

“Sorry.” He rubbed his face. “I must have dozed off.”

You ignored his apology.

“Do you want to help Bucky?”

“Huh?” He blinked, rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand. Apparently, Captain America was a slow waker. “Of course I do.”

“Good. I need to ask a favor.”

“What… kind of favor?”

“You’d just be carrying some things, that’s all.” Sheesh, what was with the nervous tone? What did he think you were going to ask? You folded your arms over your chest, resisting the urge to tap your foot against the floor. “I need to pack up my stuff and move it here. Strange is going to train me, or at least he should, and while he’s doing that, I’m going to do all the research I can into demon bonds. We’re going to free Bucky.”

“Whoa, slow down.” He rose out of the chair, forcing you back a small step. You’d forgotten how damn big he was. “What are you talking about? Didn’t Buck want you to move into his loft?”

“Yes,” you grit through your teeth. “But I need to be here. I’m sure Strange won’t mind if it means he gets to keep a closer eye on me. So, by the end of the day, I need to move all my clothes to the Sanctum and the rest into storage.”

Rogers rubbed the back of his head, one hand propped on his hip as he frowned at you.

“Aren’t you moving a little too fast?” He winced.  “I mean, I don’t know you, but shouldn’t you take some time to think about this?”

“To think about what? I need to be here and I don’t have the money to waste paying rent on an apartment I’m not using.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened. “Well, don’t worry about that. I can take care of your rent. It’s no trouble.”

Your eyes narrowed. Could have sworn you saw the sweat droplets form on his forehead, too.

“Did Bucky ask you to do that?”

His uncomfortable smile was all the answer you needed.

“I don’t mind, really.” His smile became more genuine and less nervous. “Got a backlog of pay from the US Government I wouldn’t know what to do with. I can afford it.”

“Listen, Rogers,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “I appreciate the offer, I know you didn’t have to do that, but I’m fine now. You don’t need to take care of me.”

Hoping he got the picture, you turned and left the room you’d already designated as yours. You needed to run your plan past Strange or Wong, and then you could get started right away. That was the solution to both Bucky’s freedom and the painful effects of the severed bond. When you were distracted, your mind churning with ideas, it was easier to ignore the black hole occupying your chest.

Unfortunately, a second set of footsteps caught up with you, the owner of the voice a little sheepish.

“Bucky said you’d say as much.”

“Did he also tell you how stubborn and willful I am?” you responded sharply. “Maybe even threw in the word reckless?”

Rogers surprised you with a small laugh.

“Almost word for word.”

“Well, he’s not exactly one to talk,” you huffed. The man at your side just smiled wider.

“No, he’s not.”

“Good. Then you agree that Bucky is being an absolute idiot and something has to be done about it.”

“Hey, whoa.” A hand reached out to stop you from walking. You barely tolerated it and craned your head back to glare up at him. “Listen, I know you’re angry at Bucky, but…”

That was an understatement. He smiled sadly, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“A long time ago, someone much wiser than I am gave me a bit of advice,” Rogers said. “As much as you and I may not like it, this was Bucky’s decision. He deserves the dignity of his choice, even if it hurts. Even if we miss him.”

He looked away toward the high windows where winter light was streaming inside to illuminate the wood floor.

“I wish I’d had more time with him myself, but… there’s nothing we can do. He had his reasons, and it sounds to me like they were very good ones. It will take time, it’ll hurt, but he would want us to move on—“

You pushed Rogers’ hand off your shoulder. Not roughly, but not gently either, and he blinked down at you.

“I’m not giving up on Bucky,” you said, clenching your fists as you fought to keep your tone even. “I’ll never stop looking for a solution. No matter how long it takes.”

With a heated glare, you turned and left Rogers in the hallway, grinding your teeth. You’d thought Steve Rogers would have understood if anyone could have. But he didn’t, and you were truly alone.

***

You found Wong on the way to Strange’s office, and he agreed to take you there, not looking too surprised to find you practically stomping down the carpet runner.

Strange agreed to redo the tests as well as add on a few that were more “specialized,” whatever that meant. It involved more poking and prodding with arcane instruments, but you never complained. The discomfort was a small price to pay.

The results were the same as before: you were as magically skilled as a brick, and not the kind of brick that went into building magical sanctums, either. But the Ancient One’s words must have held enough clout for that not to matter, because Strange promised you would be training under Wong the next day.

Wong didn’t look too enthused about it, and you couldn’t blame him. Regarding the last disastrous meeting, you apologized for biting him, but he waved you off and said no apology was needed. Regardless, you felt terrible. Not terrible enough for Bucky to be put into a freezing chamber, but still, pretty awful.

As you suspected, Strange didn’t deny your request to move into the Sanctum. Wong gave him a considerable side-eye when he agreed, but you’d gotten what you wanted, and that’s all that mattered.

Steve Rogers, true to his word, helped move most of your belongings to your new room. Monster complained at being put in the carrier—he’d been acting difficult lately—but once you released him into your room he settled down. You wondered what that was about and found your answer when he took off and you chased him down the hallways, leading you to the room that held…

The two guards in front of the door were trying to catch Monster, but he slipped through their fingers like furry oil and scratched and yowled at the door. Tears stung your eyes as you scooped him up, holding him to your chest, and the guards looked extremely put-out.

“Can… can I see him?” You already knew the answer but were still disappointed when you received it.

“Only the Sorcerer Supreme and those with his approval may enter,” one of them said, eyeing Monster.

Your focus went to that heavy, stone door. Intricate glyphs were carved into its surface, and you wondered if even a hobgoblin could slip past them. It took every ounce of your willpower to step away, to leave Bucky all alone, you held Monster tightly as you walked back to your room.

“It’s okay,” you spoke softly into his grey fur. “We’ll be able to visit at some point. I’m sure. If the bond is suppressed, then what danger could there be?”

Danger or not, Strange wouldn’t let you see Bucky. “Not yet,” was his response when you asked. For now, according to him, you needed to focus on your lessons, which consisted of meditation, learning the combat stances (sorcerers could fight?), and learning to conjure.

The meditation part was the easiest, or would have been if your mind wasn’t a constant bundle of anxiety. The martial arts lessons were definitely more interesting, even if your body was laughably clumsy and uncoordinated. You saw other “students” around, but you always trained with Wong alone. When you asked why, he cited the fact you were at the same learning level as a 6 year-old. The hit to your ego made you stop asking about joining the others.

Days turned into a week. A week into two. You’d returned to work, a truly surreal experience especially with seeing Davin again. He was kind and spent more time with you than he used to, sitting with you during lunch and then walking you to your cab after work. A part of you wondered if he knew. If Bucky had asked him to keep an eye on you while he was gone.

You didn’t ask.

Steve Rogers didn’t stop by every day, but he was there at least twice a week. At first it was awkward—what were you supposed to talk about with an Avenger?—but then he began to share history. Tales of his and Bucky’s youth and all the ways they got into trouble. It was through your common interest in Bucky that you began to warm up to each other, and he never had a shortage of stories when it came to his childhood friend.

Sometimes, he would get this yearning expression, and you were uncomfortably reminded that he and Bucky had been much closer than simple friends. You wondered if Rogers knew that you knew.

It was normal for a person to compare themselves to a partner’s ex. You weren’t sure how to feel being compared to Captain America, except the fact you couldn’t compare at all, and Bucky had definitely downgraded. You weren’t a super soldier with biceps the size of melons.

Regardless, Rogers’ company was appreciated and comforting, unlike when it had been simply tolerated before. But by week two, you were no longer coping as well as you once were. Perhaps Wong noticed during your lessons, because when you asked him once again if you could see Bucky, he had a different answer for you.

You stood outside the door, nerves tingling as the two sorcerers on guard duty unlocked the room with some complicated hand gestures. The door swung open heavily on its hinges, and you stepped forward, fists pressed against your thighs.

The room hadn’t changed, still dim and creepy with glyphs running along the walls. The iron chamber was where you’d last seen it, lit from within with a pale, ghostly light. It made the man inside appear barely real, darkness in the hollows in his cheeks and cast by the shadows of his horns.

“No touching,” one sorcerer barked when you reached out toward the lid. You retracted your hand, twisting your finger anxiously as you looked back at the guard.

“Can I have a moment alone?”

“No.”

You turned back to the chamber, your chest aching with the gnawing emptiness that never left. It was worse in Bucky’s presence, but it was worth it just to see him again. To know he was still alive, even when it didn’t feel that way.

There was so much you wanted to say to him, but even a whisper could be overheard in this place. So you thought back to the way you’d communicated with Bucky in the demon realm, a place where you’d had no voice but he’d heard you anyway.

Bucky, if you can hear me… I want you to know I’m so sorry.

He didn’t stir. You hadn’t really expected him to. You should have felt silly to stand there, talking to yourself in your own mind, but you didn’t. If anything, it felt like praying.

I’m going to find a way to set you free. From the bond, from this prison. And then you can go wherever you want and do whatever you want. You don’t… don’t even have to stay with me. You can be with Steve again, if that’s what makes you happy.

You swallowed down the painful lump in your throat and pushed past the heavy weight on your heart.

How many times have I told you I’d never give up on you? I meant it then and I mean it now. Just… hold on a little longer. I’ll figure something out. I’ll do whatever I have to so you can come back. So you can have a life you deserve. It’s the least I can do for… for… This is all my fault, Bucky. The bond, the time-loop, you breaking your deal with the Ancient One. It should be me in there, not you.

You took a steadying breath and blinked away the tears. Tears meant that you had conceded, and you weren’t ready to give up on him. Not now, not ever.

I’ll fix this, Bucky. I will.

I have to.

You stayed as long as you could, even as you shivered and grew colder in the chamber’s presence. It was constructed of thick metal and appeared air-tight, and yet, the longer you stood there the further the temperature dropped. By the time the guards informed you your time was up, you were trembling and your teeth clattered together.

You really, really hoped Bucky couldn’t feel the cold.

***

The resolve to stay away from Bucky’s apartment didn’t last much longer. That night, you informed Wong that you would be spending the night in the penthouse. You used the excuse that you wanted to make sure everything was in order. Maybe Bucky had some plants he needed watered, or something.

Wong just shrugged and said you weren’t a prisoner and could come and go as you pleased. Of course, that’s what he said, but you’d noticed the robed sorcerers trying to blend into the crowds as you got in and out of the cab for work. Bucky had been right when he said the wizards didn’t have parking, and you’d been forced to keep your car at Bucky’s building once you broke your old apartment lease.

You didn’t mind that the sorcerers were watching you. It was comforting in a way, even if a large part of you was still angry at Strange. You were pissed, but your brief encounter with the Ancient One had convinced you that the sorcerers weren’t malicious or evil. They seemed to be trying their best to protect the world from magical threats, even when their efforts fell short.

Tonight though, you wanted to be alone. Away from sorcerers and magic and iron chambers that looked too much like coffins.

After the taxi drove you to the building, the desk clerk greeted you as if he’d been expecting your arrival. You stepped inside the elevator and tried to relax as it carried you to the highest floor. You were exhausted down to your bones; maybe staying the night wasn’t a bad idea after all.

The place was exactly the same as Bucky had left it. There wasn’t even any dust aside from the snow that had gathered on the outside of the clock face windows. It was still too damn cold, and you pulled your coat tighter around you, slowly turning 180 degrees to gather in the large space.

Your old stuffed animal that served as your animus was nowhere to be seen, and you hoped it was someplace safe. Knowing Bucky, it was. Still, you wondered what would happen to it now that the bond was silenced. Would it revert to an ordinary toy, or would it still contain your metaphorical heart?

You weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer.

Pulling off your jacket and shoes, you crawled under the soft covers of Bucky’s bed, stretching out on the silken sheets. That was one thing you’d noticed about his bed. Maybe Bucky really enjoyed soft things, but he didn’t seem like the type to indulge himself. He’d said something about heightened senses; perhaps his skin had been too sensitive for ordinary cotton?

The curiosity in your thoughts tumbled away as you buried yourself into Bucky’s pillows, still strong with his earthy, musky scent. You missed him so much, and the magnitude hadn’t hit you until that moment. You hugged the pillow tight to your chest and allowed the hole in your chest to ache.

You drifted off like that, holding onto the pillow like a lifeline. It could have been minutes or hours later when your eyes snapped open. The hairs on your nape stood straight and your heart raced in a panicked beat. A stench permeated the air, familiar and sickening. Like rotten eggs.

You dashed across the bed, but not fast enough; a hand closed around your ankle and yanked you backwards. You yelled, clawing into the sheets as you were dragged across the mattress, and you hit the ground hard enough to lose your breath.

The face hovering above you was one you thought you’d never see again. Sickly green eyes glowed with malice, and the flower petal-like appendances of its face pulled back to reveal rows of neon green teeth. A mist the same radioactive color as its teeth leaked from its esophagus, and you covered your mouth as you screamed and kicked it in the shin.

The Alp gave a deep, terrifying howl, and you crawled across the floor and then scrambled to your feet.

Where was your phone? Your bag? It was dark, you couldn’t see. You clipped your leg against the couch and fell onto the hardwood floor, banging your knees.

You could hear it coming, its stink in your nostrils even if you couldn’t see it. Your phone was on the nightstand next to the bed, you couldn’t go for it.

Gritting your teeth, nauseous from the smell and the adrenaline, you dashed toward your only hope left: the elevator.

You didn’t make it even halfway. A hand grabbed you by the hair and pulled you back. You cried out, clawing at the fingers holding onto you, but the Alp didn’t relent.

Its other arm grabbed you around the waist, and that’s when the world tilted on its axis. The room spun, colors shifted and glowed together, and your stomach dropped as if you were on a roller coaster. Your surroundings blurred, and for the flash of a second, you saw red dunes and smelled burning, sulfurous air. The shape of the mountain range in the distance, the multiple moons hanging in the dusky sky, you knew them. Knew them intimately because you’d watched them for forty-eight years.

Before you could take another breath the world shifted again, and you were in a cold, dim room lit only by electric lamps and caged light bulbs.

You tore yourself out of the Alp’s grip, staggered and fell again, gasping as you hit the cold stone flooring.

You ignored the pain and cold temperatures as you scurried away from the demon. It didn’t lunge for you; it stared at something just above your head.

Before you could turn around to see for yourself, something jabbed into your shoulder, and pain shot through your body as your muscles seized and your nerves caught fire.

The flow of electricity stopped, and you collapsed without another word or show of resistance. You could barely breathe, your vision swimming. The echo of someone’s footsteps passed by your head, and then a man was speaking, his voice soft and accented.

“Stupid creature,” he said, leaning down in front of you. A soft touch at your neck, almost gentle. No matter how much you tried to focus, his face remained blurry. “Couldn’t even follow simple instructions. And now look what I had to do.”

The man rose to his feet and left your field of vision. The last thing you heard before slipping away was the crackle of a cattle prod and the broken, tortuous wailing of the Alp.

Next Chapter

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

summer sizzle | allnighter, jon moxley

[ prompts used ] 

“Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.” + exposed + sweet + hands against the wall + lace - these all came from varying lists that I’ve collected over time. I own nothing but the scenario and the originalfemalecharacter used within.

[ warnings ]

18+ only. Unprotected sex. Breeding kink if you squint (iykyk), body fluids, biting a little bit, gentle romantic smut this time.

[ tag squad ]

@kyleoreillysknee​

@rampagewriting​

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@thatnerdwriter​

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure​

@chasingeverybreakingwave​

@waywardwrestlewritingwaif​

@sassymox​

@mondaynightmcintyre​

@wardl0w​

@wrestlingthot​ 

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[ tag doc - masterlist - about page ]

                           JON MOXLEY in A L L N I G H TER,

“Fuck stilettos. And double fuck hairpins.” I grumbled as I tore at the hairpins holding my hair in place, letting it tumble down my back. I kicked off my stilettos and flexed my toes in thick, plush carpet as I wandered over to the spot I’d sat down my luggage. 

Grabbing the bottle of wine I picked up on the way in, I poured myself a glass and I peeled off the majority of my clothing, leaving me in only a lace pair of panties and the stockings and garter combo I’d been wearing tonight just to kind of feel like a bad bitch.

Pay-per-view weeks are the actual worst. Especially on us stage managers. See, while the guys and girls are out there putting on a show, we’re left with all the prep work. Making sure everyone is in their places and whatnot.  And tonight had been filled with glitches. Spots that should not, under any circumstances have happened, let alone over concrete. People missing their cues to go down to the ring by a minute or two.

The entire night just seemed like one neverending miscommunication amongst the team working and it was frustrating. All I wanted to do was drink some cheap wine, watch some bad cable and lounge around half naked. Maybe even order wings. 

About the time I’d dialed down for room service, I heard the door being knocked on. Staring at it with a raised brow, I grabbed for a gauzy pale violet robe and tied it, slinking over towards the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone and there was literally no way the rack of ribs I’d just ordered myself from room service were already here.

,, probably just one of the girls.” I dismissed any other possibility than this, because on occasion, one or two of the girls on the roster stopped by to talk and hang out. Usually Britt or Anna. I honestly assumed that when I threw the door open, one or the other would be standing on the opposite side of it.

When I did and it wasn’t, well… I slammed the door shut all over again in a hurry, calling through it, “Sorry! I thought it was Britt or Anna Jay. Fuck. Just a minute.”

I dashed around, finding a longer shirt. If I wasn’t 99 percent sure that Mox hadn’t already seen hotter bodies than mine and I wasn’t so goddamn mentally and physically drained, I’d have bothered with the formality of pants. He’s the one who knocked on my door.

They get what they get. If they don’t like me bopping around in a tee shirt and panties, they know how to leave me alone.

“Not that I’m complainin.” Mox called through the door, “But I’m fuckin tired and it’d be nice to get some fuckin sleep.”

I threw the door open, a brow raised. “In my room?” I was confused. What the hell was going on?

I remembered Britt complaining that this hotel was frequently overbooking itself and people wound up having to share rooms a lot and then it hit me. That was probably what this was.

Awesome. On top of everything, I was now going to have to suffer through a night of lingering sexual tension… I cast a gaze at the ceiling, briefly wondering what deity I’d pissed off. First the train wreck that was backstage during the pay per view tonight and now, having to share a room that I won’t lie, I wouldn’t kick out of bed for eating crackers.

Who I’ve maybe flirted with back and forth on occasion. Who I suspect flirts right back with me.

“Our room, apparently.” Mox stepped into the room, chuckling as his eyes settled on me and then darted down, fixing on the bottle of wine in my hand. “Rough night?”

“You were there, Jon.” I mused, raising the bottle to my lips. The door to the elevator down the hall slid open and the scent of barbecue ribs filled the air, my stomach growling upon scent. He sniffed the air and eyed the cart being wheeled towards the door of the hotel room before casting a glance back at me.

“Ya mean you eat somethin besides salad?” Mox muttered, chuckling quietly as I continued to stare intently at my ribs as they made their way towards me. The cart came to a stop outside the door and I stepped out, shutting the door behind me as I signed for the order. Mox pulled the door open and stepped out of the way, letting me wheel the cart into the room. Almost the second the door was shut tight behind me again, I was tearing into the covered dishes, tearing a rib apart from the rack and devouring it while groaning. 

Mox’s eyes fixed on my mouth and he bit his lip, muttering something to himself and shaking his head. I honestly didn’t have a fuck left to give on this particular night. I was tired and hungry and hell bent on eating. I tore away another and held it out to him, teasing with a playful smirk, “What?”

“Nothing.” Mox took the piece I held out to him and stepped away abruptly. Wait, did I just pout because he stepped away? It had me a little shocked for a second. I quickly pushed it out of my head and flopped across my bed, grabbing for the remote, turning on the television set. I sat up and reached for the phone on the nightstand beside my bed, killing the music. 

As I did it, I could almost swear I felt his eyes glued to me. I didn’t dare turn to look back at first and when I did, rather than catch him watching me, I caught him tugging the form fitting gray tee shirt he was wearing up and letting it settle on the floor next to his bed. He wandered over to the cart filled with food and got himself another rib and then he flopped down on the bed opposite mine.

The tension in the room was so heavy. I almost couldn’t breathe. I tried to ignore it, just sit there and keep eating my ribs and drinking my wine, but the silence was getting to be too much.

He cleared his throat and I jumped a little, rolling over to look at him. “Yeah?” I asked, taking another rib and biting into it, waiting on him to say whatever it was he’d been about to. Metallica shattered the silence and I grumbled, diving for my cell phone.

“What now.” I grumbled, annoyed. By the time I’d actually gotten my hands on my phone, it was silent. I checked the call id anyway and just as I figured, it was my ex. Probably drunk dialing again. Which was definitely the last thing I wanted to deal with tonight.

Mox coughed abruptly and as soon as I realized what my impromptu little dive exposed in the form of my entire lace covered ass, I felt my skin burning all over. I tugged down the tee shirt and poked out my tongue and he grumbled quietly about my lack of pants with something else behind that, much lower. I couldn’t hear it. “If it bothers you, maybe don’t look.” I sassed, poking out my tongue. The tension was subsiding, however, the air in the space still felt heavy somehow… Filled with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I was just enjoying the view, kitten.” his voice had a certain teasing drawl to it’s usual velvet gravel rasp and I felt my legs clench just a little bit before I could process just how his voice actually gets to me. I pretended not to hear and I wiggled around on my bed, trying to get comfortable again, winding up propping on my elbows.

I huffed at the way my bangs flopped back into my eyes and I grabbed for the remote, trying to focus on the tv set, but it was almost mission impossible, what with breathing temptation sprawled out shirtless on the next bed.

We sprang up at the same time, heading for the cart full of food and found ourselves body to body. Just to keep from whimpering, I raised the bottle of wine to my lips, taking a rushed gulp. Nearly choking. He reached around me clumsily, patting my back until I stopped, snickering quietly about it.

“What was so funny about that?”  I pouted slightly, cocking my head to the side to gaze up at him.

“Nothin.” he muttered the word, leaning in a little. His eyes were locked on mine. We were migrating closer. Maybe I started out taking a step back, but when my back met the wall, I let out a quiet groan as soon as his hands settled palm down against the wall on either side of my head, pinning me between.

As his tongue darted out and trailed slowly over his lips, I swallowed hard, barely stifling a whimper. His hips pressed into mine a little and he reached down, toying with the collar of the oversized tee shirt I’d thrown on when he knocked.

“Jon?” I gasped out quietly, my eyes fixing on his. Darting down to his mouth and lingering. And out of nowhere, this strong and almost overwhelming desire to pull his mouth down against mine surfaced. 

I tried and tried but I couldn’t shove it down. His mouth was inching closer, slowly. Almost lazily. When his tongue shot out and rolled over his lips again, I gulped and when I took a breath, it was shaky. Enough to jar me a little, have me raising an eye at myself. 

“Don’t you get tired of dancin around what happens when we’re in a room together, kitten? Because fuck… I’m exhausted.” 

I nodded, my brain and mouth still trying to come to some kind of agreement and formulate actual words at this point. I’d never really stopped and thought about it, nor had I taken Jon Moxley seriously at any time whenever he flirted with me, because, well.. But now that I was stopping to think about it, the tension that always lingered between us was almost draining. I mean, sure… I did my best to ignore it. And keep him at a safe arms length.

Now that I couldn’t. Now that I had no way to escape it… I was starting to notice all these little things. Like just how fucking blue his eyes were up close. The little quiver to his lip right now. The way his hand felt rough against my hip when he lowered it from beside my head and squeezed my hip tight, grinding me right against him, his head lowered, nose buried in the crown of my head as he took a few long and deep breaths.

Kind of like he was trying to pull himself together.

It was not the side of Jon Moxley I was most used to. The side that was always taunting and teasing, laughing or being an idiot. Or an ass.

This was something different. More serious. Deeper.

When I felt him strained against the thin basketball shorts he was wearing, I gulped and a whimper slipped out of my mouth.

Ice blue eyes turned almost inky as he locked them on my body and did it again, snapping his hips against mine. I reached for the bottle sitting on the dresser nearby and his hand reached out, circling mine and steering the bottle to his own mouth. He took a long sip and I guided the bottle back towards my mouth. His eyes locked onto my lips intently.

“If you want to do something, Jon…” I sat the bottle down, staring up at him, a bit of a smirk forming. Because I still doubted that anything would actually come of it.

Until it did. The low throaty growl shattered the air between our mouths as he leaned into me, pressing my back right up against the wall and allowing me to melt against his body. My hand raised, fingers dragging close cropped hair and his mouth collided with mine all while he rocked his hips into me over and over, one of his hands on the side of my face and the other lowering, gripping bare thigh and raising my leg to his hip. 

His tongue pushed my lips apart, slipping between. I could taste the wine and the barbecue sauce from the rack of ribs we’d been sharing. My free hand found his shoulder, my nails digging lightly. Our breaths were harsh and they lingered. My hands moved over his biceps as I leaned into him heavily. My legs suddenly felt like someone swapped out all my bones with butter and I was in danger of puddling on the floor.

And I won’t even get into the fact that I was so wet I knew I had to be soaking through thin lace. Or that my cunt was throbbing pretty much in time with my heart right now. I rubbed myself against him as the kiss deepened to a point that I couldn’t tell whether we were breathing on our own or for each other and he muttered lazily against my mouth, “Get it now, kitten? Do you know what I want right now? Or do I have to spell it out?”

At this point, he didn’t, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t make things just a shade difficult. As his lips broke from mine and ghosted over my pulse, my eyes fluttered and I gasped out at last, “Yeah. Tell me, Jon.”

A hand resting against the side of my face lowered between us, slipping beneath the hem of my oversized tee shirt, resting palm down against my cunt as he gave a squeeze that had me whimpering and rocking against his hand. I exhaled sharply, licking my lips as I locked eyes with him. His mouth was back against mine again, teeth latching onto my lower lip and tugging, the hand on my cunt continuing to rub and squeeze as he growled into my mouth, “Fuckin soaked through those pretty little red panties already, hm?”

I felt my skin heating all over in a blush and all I could do was whimper as thick digits brushed the lace barrier currently separating his fingers from my dripping cunt to the side. As his fingers worked me open and pressed against my clit, rubbing slow and hard, I whined and rocked against his fingers in a desperate bid for more friction. Anything to make the throbbing ache settled between my thighs die down. “Had my eye on you a while now, kitten. And I ain’t stupid. I know you’ve been flirting back.”

“I have.” I panted as I rocked harder, faster, my eyes fluttering open and shut as a blinding wave of pleasure began to build and his teeth grazed my pulse, sinking down into my neck. Biting my neck is definitely a way to get me going real fast and in a hurry.  It caught me off guard that I wasn’t offering up my usual thousands of good excuses why not like I’d normally do in the past whenever Mox came on just a little too strong for me and then it hit… I only push him away because there’s something about the way he makes me feel everything entirely too much that scares me a little. See, I like playing it safe. And I know enough to know that Mox is dangerous as they come.

“All you gotta do, kitten, is tell me to stop.” Mox caught my gaze, the fingers on his free hand tucking beneath my chin as he stared deep into my eyes. His mouth caught against mine all over again, lazily and not even a full connect and damn it, I wanted more. I needed him kissing me again... Even though he said it and I knew he meant it and I knew that stopping was probably a good idea given what I now realized, I also knew that I was not about to stop him.

Not when I wanted him. Craved him on a level that blew my mind to even comprehend.

“And I haven’t. I’m not going to, either.” I mumbled the words again just as his fingertips brushed open my folds and slipped inside. The heel of his hand pressed right up against my clit, rubbing with each scissoring movement of his fingers and I whimpered, rocking against. My arms went around his neck, one hand settling at the back of his neck to pull his mouth deeper into mine as the other hand rested on his muscular shoulder, fingertips digging in just a little more with each thrust of his fingers deep into my dripping cunt. I pouted when he drew out his fingers and he chuckled, pressing himself full into me as he nodded to the bed.

“Tonight was too goddamn rough for me t’ even consider tryin this standing up.” he explained in breathy pants against my mouth and neck as he slid me up his body and stepped over to my bed, gently tossing me on top of it, leaning down, his fingers going straight for the hem of his shirt as my legs circled his waist and he positioned himself between them. I lowered my hand to the waistband of his sweats, tugging and giving an impatient whine. He caught the pleading look in my eyes and chuckled, biting his lip as he leaned down and into me, raising me up, getting the tee shirt completely away from my body and tossing it to the side.

“If you want something, kitten.. Fuckin take it. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.” the words were spoken in this tender tone that before tonight, I never would’ve readily associated with Jon Moxley in any shape or form. He bucked himself against me clumsily and I hissed, my legs tensing at his sides, locking as they tried to pull him flat against me even more. 

“Take it, huh?” I mumbled as I gripped his jaw, guiding his mouth away from my tits and back up to my own mouth, “That’s really all I have to do?”

“Mhm.” lust blown blue eyes locked on me and this time when he bucked himself against me, it was harder. With so much more urgency. Fingertips caught in the band of thin lace panties and the silent tear lingered heavy in the air a few seconds as he pulled the ripped material away from my body and tossed it to the floor.

My first instinct, of course, was to throw my hands up over my tits and torso because of the softness and imperfections. They didn’t bother me, but I’m no idiot. I know that there are other women in his past that looked a lot more appealing than me and maybe knowing that bothered me a little. His, of course, was to lower my hands, eyes roaming me hungrily. A low growl slipping out of his mouth as he licked his lips. “Don’t cover yourself up, kitten.”

I nodded, my  tongue dancing over my lips as I gazed up into his eyes. My hand raised, fingers catching in his waistband all over again, tugging impatiently. Once I got them down past his hips, he let his sweats hit the floor and kicked them off at the ankles and as soon as my eyes settled on the lack of underwear or the way his thick cock sprang free, I swallowed hard, trying to pull him back down against me with my legs all over again.

He settled on top of me, hips pinning mine flat against the mattress. His hands moved up my body, his mouth blazing a trail right behind it, stopping as he squeezed my tits together and rolled his tongue across both my nipples, letting his teeth catch as he stared up at me, hints of a smirk playing at his mouth. The groan that came out of his mouth was enough to have me whimpering. The way he combined gentle kitten licks to my skin with harder and harsher bites was.. Enough to have me arching myself up against him. Or trying to, it was a little harder to do with his hips pinning me against the mattress.

“Jon.” I panted against his throat as my teeth scraped against it, “C’mon. Need you inside me.” my moan hung in the air between us as he pushed himself into me, shallowly at first, going still, his teeth and lips against my skin, nipping and licking, sucking and leaving as many marks as he could behind on the surface of my skin. The way his body felt pressed against me had me even needier because it just felt entirely too good. Entirely. Something I could get used to easily.

“Need me, hm?” he mused, pulling away to look at me while catching his breath. I raised a hand as I nodded, fingertips dancing over the outline of his mouth. “I said it, didn’t I?”

“You fucking did, kitten.” he muttered in a low growl as his teeth nipped at my fingertips, making me whimper a little. His mouth dove down to mine, meeting it all over again in a deep and passionate kiss and I rocked myself up into him, his cock slipping between my folds and making me moan, my fingers dragging his scalp and digging into his shoulders as my legs clenched his sides.  He thrust into me slowly, inch for inch sinking in, his fingertips digging into my hips as he groaned against my throat, “Goddamn, kitten. So fucking tight around me.”

My eyes fluttered and I whimpered, my back arching as I gazed up at the ceiling and braced myself, getting used to the way he stretched and filled me with dots dancing in my vision as my orgasm only continued to build and intensify. I could hear the wet sounds every single time he pulled his cock out and slammed it back in deep, hard.. Slow. With enough drive behind the movements of his hips that I felt like I was being fucked deep into the mattress. His hands left my hips and wandered up my body, catching hold of my hands and holding them flat against the pillow under my head and I gasped out against his neck, begging for more. Faster.

His hips snapped against mine almost frantically, his teeth locked onto my neck, sucking. When he broke contact with my neck, his mouth was on mine again, hungrily. The soft smacks of our kisses growing louder and more desperate. “Kitten, fuck.” he groaned as my hips rocked to meet his every thrust. I raised them a little and the new angle had him slowing down just a shade, his mouth against the bridge of my nose and his hands letting go of mine, going down to my hips to hold them at the angle I’d risen them to, driving into me slower.. Harder.. Deeper. “Wanna fucking fill you up.” that growl got lower and his words left me whimpering, frantically trying to meet his pace as my lips latched onto his, capturing them in a needy and rough kiss. “Do it then.” the words left my mouth before I could stop to really consider what I was that I was saying.

Not that it mattered.

My orgasm was building at an earth shattering speed now and Mox seemed to pick right up on it, his cock striking right up against my g-spot over and over as he bottomed out inside me. Our eyes locked on each other and I whimpered at the way his eyes practically glowed with this soft lust when they met mine. My hand raised, briefly resting against his cheek as his hips stammered and I could feel my pussy clenching around him. “Let go, kitten, c’mon. Let go for me.” Mox urged, his voice more groan than anything.

I could feel him burying balls deep as he slammed back into my pussy, his hands squeezing my hips, his breath catching in his throat. My own orgasm ripped through me and I clung to him, my hips struggling to keep up the pace he set between us but not caring, too gone on the high I was feeling to bother. He fucked me right through my own orgasm and into his own, his cock throbbing, his seed overfilling and he kept plowing into me, gradually slowing, his mouth all over my neck and against my mouth, his teeth catching on tender and kiss swollen lips.

He came to a stop at last and he fell back against the mattress, immediately reaching out, pulling my body atop his with his arms wrapped around me tight as he chuckled against my mouth. “Not too tired on me, right kitten?”

“A little tired.” I gave a soft laugh, my body settling close against his, my mouth brushing his mouth as his hands wandered down, giving my ass a squeeze as he rocked himself into me and gave a quiet growl.

[eirabach]

Taking Chances [1/1]

For @janetm74 and @badthingshappenbingo! Scott + Alan and ‘More Expendable than You’

This is the danger.

This has always been the danger.

Scott’s up here, and Alan’s down there and really, John ought to know.

It isn’t like he wouldn’t do it too.

There’s a hole in the ground and a hole in Scott’s belly where he thinks, he thinks, he used to keep his stomach but it dropped right out oh, about ten minutes ago, and now it’s burning up in the lava flow right about where Pod B is creeping its way toward – well. Hell, by all accounts. 

All accounts except John’s, anyway. 

John has other words for it. Long, scientific ones. Like pyroclastic and rates of descent and – 

And it’s possible Scott stopped listening somewhere between watching his youngest brother clamber up the side of a rumbling volcano and the thunder that followed, and now there’s ash billowing from one hole and bile from the other and he doesn’t really have time for this. At all.

“Say again, Thunderbird One?”

“You heard me, John.”

“I heard someone suggest something unutterably stupid. Are you sure you don’t want to try again? That ash cloud isn’t staying up there all day, Scott, and you do not want to be under it when it drops.”

“I can beat it.” There’s the John equivalent of a long, pregnant pause. “I can.”

“You can’t just demand – that isn’t how physics –”

“I don’t give a damn about physics, John!”

A voice pipes up from the smoking, burning fields below. “Uh, do I get a say in this?”

“No!”

“No.”

“Right.” Alan sighs, “I mean I am the one on the ground so –”

“Shut up, Alan.”

“Hold your position, Pod Explorer. Scott –”

But Scott’s done with listening, already out of his seat, helmet on, jet pack primed. He sets Thunderbird One to hover outside of the range of the ash cloud, and kicks at the emergency egress button. 

“Save it,” he says, and jumps.

And it works – at first. He roars down toward the little yellow dot below, boosters at full power, and honestly John worries way too much about all the wrong things. Scott’s got this and then he’s gonna get Alan and then –

Ah. And then. The wind changes, ash blinding him as it sticks to his visor, settles heavy on his shoulders. Makes his jet pack whine and stutter and –

He hits the ground with a grunt, not quite hard enough to really hurt, but enough to wind him, the jetpack taking most of the impact anyway. Which is just as well, really, because as he sits up – gingerly, not that he’d admit it – he realises, oh.

“Uh, John –” The piece of land he’s landed on is maybe ten feet square, the edges crumbling into a bubbling, stinking lake of fire. “I may have a situation.”

Even through the sound of the ground cracking around him, the sputtering of the lava around his little island, the howl of the dying volcano, he hears the sigh – “Alright. You asked for it.”

—

On the other side of the volcano, Two is ferrying the unlucky denizens of the closest campground to safety and Virgil – Virgil sounds pissed.

“EVA. Under an ash cloud that’s gonna drop blocks of rock the size of Four on your head. Of course, why wouldn’t you?” Alan’s pretty sure he can hear a migraine forming just from the tone of Virgil’s voice. “How long?”

“Under current atmospheric conditions? Less than three minutes.”

“2.5074,” Eos pipes up cheerfully. “And counting.”

“I can’t – I have fifty people to get to safety here Scott!”

“I know, I don’t expect –”

“No? Now we’ve gotta worry about you as well!”

“No one needs to worry about me!”

“Oh well that’s okay then, hope you’ve got your best boots on.” And then there’s Gordon, sticking his oar in. “Since you’re gonna be tap dancing your way to a fiery doom.“

"Right this moment I’d pay to see that.”

“I can hear you you know.”

“Oh it’s just selective hearing loss then?”

Alan drops his head to the dash with a metallic thud. 

“Uh, you ok?” His rescuee looks pretty uncomfortable squeezed into the back of the pod. Listening to International Rescue bickering is probably not helping.

“I’m really sorry about this.“

"Hey, no. I got a brother. I get it.”

Alan hits his baldric with a grimace. “Thunderbird One hold your position.”

“Ala –”

“Do as you’re told for once Scott.”

He has no idea if the answering silence is due to shock or muting, and he doesn’t honestly much care.

His fingers tighten around the Pod’s controls. He could – he ought to – ask John what to do next, but John’s kinda got a lot going on right now with the whole ‘evacuate an entire county while simultaneously dressing Scott down to the size of a newt’ thing. But the clock is ticking and the hiker in the back is sweating and – 

And this is his goddamn job, isn’t it?

Pod B makes its delicate way over the cracked crust of the lava flow, and Alan keeps his eyes fixed on the route ahead – on Scott – instead of the billowing threat 200 yards away.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He grits his teeth, counts down from ten. “Rescuing an idiot.” Then, because he feels like it. “Duh.”

Already Alan can see the rock beneath Scott shifting with the currents, and they’re slow enough now but that cloud’s coming down and Scott’s gonna be – 

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Alan extends the Pod’s legs and sends up a swift, silent prayer that Brains’ heat proofing stands the test. “I’ll be one minute and then we can –”

“Alan, no. Back off.”

Pod B pauses, one spindly toe dipped into the lava field between Alan and Scott. “Say what now? Look Scott, I dunno where you were during third grade history but lemme tell you what happened to the people in Pompeii cause it was –”

“Get out of here, and that’s an order.”

“You gotta be –” Alan’s denial is cut short, a block of volcanic matter as tall as the Pod and twice as wide slamming into the unstable ground to his right. The hiker whimpers. “Oh man! Okay. okay!” He sets the Pod skipping through the pools, smoke and steam obscuring much of what’s in front of him until Scott’s just a vague blueish blur. “Get ready to jump on cause uh, I ain’t gonna have time to roll out the red carpet or anything –”

“I said, leave.”

“Nuh huh, not happening, hang on just two more seconds –”

“Alan!”

He skids to a halt at the edge of Scott’s little island and shoves the door open.

“Come on, come on, come on!”

Scott – Scott backs off. Alan gapes at him.

“What are you –”

“I said go!”

“And leave you to roast? What, like you’re expendable now?”

“Well – well maybe I’m just more expendable than you.”

It hits him harder than any pyroclastic flow ever could. His heart skips a beat, six, starts up only to try and climb out his throat and god, he might actually be sick. He might just straight up vomit his entire heart out onto the floor ‘cause that only sounds over dramatic but what Scott’s threatening – what Scott’s doing –

Alan narrows his eyes. Wills his heart to stop trying to beat its way through his chestplate.

“I have never heard anything so stupid in all my life. Get in. Or I’m getting out.”

They stare at each other. Somewhere in the back of his mind Alan faintly recognises the sound of his hiker having a panic attack. He thinks it’s the hiker. Maybe it’s him. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that Scott’s still just standing there and their two minutes is up and –

Gordon’s voice is grim, serious, and man there is gonna be one awkward family dinner tonight.

“Alan, grab him. By the balls if necessary.”

Alan does as he’s told. Scott’s almost twice his size and weighed down by a jetpack but he hardly even notices, dragging him up through the hatch and launching him in the direction of the definitely semi hysterical hiker. Two’s grappling hooks hit them at the same moment Scott lands half in the poor guy’s lap, and Alan points a shaking finger at him as he tries to stagger to his feet against the sway of the Pod.

“Stay there. Say nothing.”

They rise towards Two’s belly in a perfect, awkward silence that’s broken only by the clang of the pod doors opening and the shuddering breaths of the unfortunate hiker.

Alan docks the Pod with far more force than is really necessary. Scott grapples to keep his footing again, and a little dark part of Alan thinks serves you right. The hiker clears his throat.

“Uh – thank you. I um – I can get out now, right?”

Alan grunts, and pulls the lever for the exit. The hiker skitters down the ladder and disappears into the vastness of Two’s belly. He’ll probably get lost there, too. Alan will have to remind Virgil to drop him off. Somewhere. Whatever. His hands are shaking and his face feels hot and Scott’s looking at him all oh no what’s the matter like he doesn’t know. Like he’s forgotten.

“Alan, I really – I don’t understand what you’re so upset about?”

“You think it’s a compliment? So – so what? I’m the youngest, I’m the baby so fuck the rest of you right?”

“Alan!”

“Oh my – I’ve got ears, you know! Ears and – and feelings and I don’t think I ought to be all touched that you apparently think the best thing for me is to leave me on my own.”

“That isn’t what I meant –”

“No.” He spins round, face hot and fists tight. “No, but it’s what you did. What you do. And you – one day you might actually – and I have to live with that? No.” He shakes his head, wills the furious burn to stay behind his eyelids. He won’t cry. He won’t. “Never. Don’t you dare.”

Scott blinks at him.

“Sorry,” he says, and it’s all cool and calm and ugh. “But if it comes down to you or me –”

“What about me or Virgil? Or John, or Gordon? Huh?” Alan takes two steps forward and jabs his finger into Scott’s chest. Scott stares down at it, nonplussed. “What, do you rank us?”

“No! No of course not!”

“So what is it then, huh? Cause I dunno if you’ve noticed but by the rules of the universe you can only die for one of us. Once.” And dammit, dammit his breath is coming in stutters and his eyes are leaking and – “I lost dad, I don’t remember mom, I don’t – I can’t –”

And Scott wraps his arms around him and squeezes, tight. 

“I’m sorry I frightened you, kid.”

Alan groans into Scott’s dusty flight suit. “I wasn’t scared. And I’m not a kid.”

“Uh huh.”

The steady rise and fall of his brother’s chest helps him to regulate his own breathing, the thud of Scott’s heartbeat a steadying force as he risks looking up. 

He doesn’t have to look up quite as far as he used to. Not quite.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” he says. “You won’t be able to try it again.”

Scott’s eyebrows tick up.

“No? You gonna stay home next time?”

“Not likely,” he sniffs. “John’s gonna kill you, you know.”

“With you around to rescue me?” And Scott’s smiling, hand in Alan’s hair, and he lets himself smile back because – because this is what matters, isn’t it. This is what isn’t, won’t, can’t ever be expendable. “I’ll take my chances.”

[piers-supremacy]

For context— this takes place in the past. This isn’t apart of any main plot. It’s just a fun establishment thingy I was inspired to write while I had time.

Cw: examples of emotional manipulation.

Dierdra quietly tapped a finger on the table cloth, weaving along the threads with her eyes. There was the faint sound of electronic voices coming from the living room, quiet snoring, and the apparent tick of a clock.

A chair scraped across the ground in front of her. Dierdra’s shoulders leapt and her eyes met the person holding the back. A white hot mug was set in front of her, the steam tickling her face.

“It’s good to see you, D. It’s been such a long time since the last I saw you. You were so small then!” The brown haired woman chuckled as she sat down.

“Heh, yeah, s’pose so. What’s this?” Dierdra pointed to the mug in front of her.

“It’s tea, love. It’s alright if you’re not thirsty. It’s polite to cater guests either way.” The woman sipped from the mug she had for herself, “Well, down to business then. Have you had experience babysitting before?”

“Nah, I’m an only-child. The closest I got was watching an old friend’s little sister. That was only for an hour, though. I was thirteen then. Been awhile.”

“Oh, alright. Well, perhaps I can stay here the first few times you watch them. Just so you get the hang of it.”

There was a shuffling that covered up the television in the other room for a moment.

“Mum! Can you change the channel?! Hop texted that Leon’s gunna be on TV!” A small girl leaned into the kitchen, she had a comically oversized grey sweater that was most likely made by her mother.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Gloria. I’m having an important conversation.”

A little boy ran next to the girl in the doorway and slid on his socks, “We don’t have a minute! Come on, please?”

“Mum said in a minute!” Gloria snatched her brother’s knitted hat roughly, and threw it across the living room.

“Agh, Gloria!” As the boy ran to grab his hat, his foot caught on a wrinkle in the carpet and he fell forward. The woman across the table shot up, the chair she sat in screeched across the floor.

“Gloria! Get Victor's hat! Now!”

All three of them disappeared into the living room. Leaving Dierdra, who was squeezing her lips together to hide her amusement.

Dierdra turned back to the untouched tea, which was no longer steaming.

“Well, at least it won’t be boring here.” Dierdra stated to herself.

Dierdra tuned into the sounds around her again, this time focusing mainly on the snoring. She glanced under the table where it came from to see a sleeping Munchlax. She cooed at it, prompting to take a picture with her phone, upon looking at the screen her notifications had blown up. 10 calls and an unending list of texts.

“Shit…”

‘Where are you?’ ‘Why aren’t you responding?’ ‘For fucks sake you’re with another guy aren’t you?’ ‘Pick up now or I’m going to your location.’

Dierdra’s heart shot up into her throat, as her fingers tapped away to respond.

‘No, no, baby. It’s ok, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m just in a job interview. We can meet back at my house if you want?’

‘A job interview? In Postwick? Whatever, just say you don’t love me.’

Dierdra dug her fingers into her scalp as she read that over, unsure of how to respond.

‘I do love you and I’m at Gloria and Victor’s. I thought I already told you where I was going?’ Dierdra tapped her foot in place as the text lit up as ‘read’ but after that, no typing, no response.

‘I’ll be home soon.’ Dierdra typed.

“I’m very sorry about that,” Dierdra nearly jumped out of her skin as footsteps came back out from the living room, “—Dierdra, honey, are you alright? You’re shaking.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine, uh-“ Dierdra shoved her phone back into her jacket pocket, “Where were we?” The woman’s eyebrows knitted together, but allowed the conversation to continue as normal.

“Well, I had asked about your experience. To be honest I don’t really mind that part. You’re the only one who has time to watch the twins.” She rounded the table to draw herself and the chair back in, “Though, I am curious on a few other things... I don’t mean to pry, but I’m confused. I don’t have much to give you for pay. Wouldn’t your father be more equipped for that? I’m sure you’re used to a lot more. I’m surprised you would settle for something like this.”

“No... No, this is fine. My dad’s cut me off anyway. He’s not around. It’s fine. This is close to home, only a few hours a day while you’re at work, good weather. It’s whatever.”

“He’s... cut you off? What about Aoife? She never struck me as someone who would cut you off.”

“It’s complicated. My mom and my dad don’t share wealth, and what my mom makes isn’t enough to pay for the college my dad’s forcing me off to.”

Dierdra stared into the dark brew inside her mug. She picked it up and swirled it around a bit, watching it whirlpool. It spilled over the side, and dripped down onto the Munchlax who promptly woke up from the cold.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” Dierdra chuckled remorsefully as she watched the Munchlax shuffle away into the living room. That was when she noticed a brown tuft of hair, hiding behind the door frame.

Dierdra’s face shifted to a devilish grin. She stood up slowly and turned to face the woman still sitting. “Besides, I know these kids. I’d rather wrangle these punks than be stuck in some stuffy day job any day of the week.”

Dierdra ducked into the living room roaring loudly at the two. Both kids screamed, as they stumbled past each other to circle the couch. Dierdra hurdled herself over it to pursue them. Victor squealed and Gloria giggled as they ran past her, into the kitchen, and out the front door. Dierdra followed but stopped at the kitchen table.

“Am I hired? Is it cool if I start today?” She asked through baited breath.

The woman leaned her head on her hand, and rolled her eyes with a smirk.“Hurry up, they’re getting away.”

Dierdra chuckled.“Thanks, ma’am,” she said as she ran outside.

[thompsborn]

“you’re the grizzled old mechanic i’m kinda scared of who’s been keeping my car running and you found out i’m living in my car and oh shit you offered me the couch at your place? and you made me breakfast? how do i even pay you back, can i work for you?” au

happy fathers day, here’s some irondad with his lil mechanic son becoming a lil family (and, because i wanted to, some parksborner, too)

—

“So, what happened this time?”

Harley puffs out a breath, arms crossed over his chest and shoulders bunching up to his ears in a half assed kind of shrug. “Honestly? Not sure. I checked under the hood last night and couldn’t see any issues, but I must have been tired or somethin’ ‘cause she barely made it here in one piece. Thank Christ you’re on call or I’d be totally fucked right now.”

Tony hums, leaning forward with slightly furrowed brows and squinted eyes, taking in the engine slowly and precisely to spot anything wrong. “Don’t need an oil change, right?”

Instinctively, Harley rolls his eyes—despite what Tony seems to think, he’s more than capable of fixing up his car and changing the oil himself. It’s more a money issue than a knowledge issue, and Tony, for whatever reason, never charges Harley when he brings his banged up Mustang to his shop after closing hours. So, it’s easier, really, on his wallet and on his physical health to just bring her in and have Tony fix her up. He doesn’t bring any of this up, though, because Tony... Tony is a quiet sort of man, doesn’t like the small talk or the chitter chatter. He’s brooding in the way only a man in his fifties can be, shoulders hunched with the weight of a long life, bags under his eyes and a healthy bit of salt and pepper to his hair. Harley tried making a sarcastic comment his second time he came in and Tony didn’t respond in the slightest, leaving them in an uncomfortable silence until Harley was good to go.

He’d rather have the stupid questions that he always responds with the same answers to than the silence from before.

“No oil change needed,” Harley replies. “Just changed it last week. That’s not the problem.”

Tony quirks a brow and looks at Harley over his shoulder, something unsure and almost condescending on his features. “Just checking,” he says. “Lots of people come here thinking their car is at ends meet, just to be in complete awe when I change their oil and it runs without a hitch.”

“I’m not gonna be one of those people,” Harley tells him. “I know enough to know that.”

“And yet you’re here, asking for my help with your shitmobile, nearly once a week.”

Harley shrugs again and looks away.

“Alright,” Tony murmurs, hands in the air in some sign of surrender. “I’ll take a look and fix her up in time for curfew, kid. No worries.”

Without thinking, Harley says, “I don’t have a curfew,” and only panics for a second before casually adding, “College,” after it in explanation. A false explanation, but—still.

Tony seems unbothered, turning back to look at the engine. “Fine. Then she’ll be ready in time for you to go home and get a full night’s rest before your classes tomorrow. Sound good?”

There are no classes, and there is no full night of rest—Harley will find a vacant lot in the shadow of a building where his car will blend in, and he will sleep in the backseat long enough to be able to function through a shift at work with only a minor crick in his back to deal with.

It’s routine, at this point—park, sleep, work. On a good day, make enough to splurge on a hot meal. Usually, just cheap, greasy fast food.

“Sure,” Harley says anyway. “Sounds good.”

-

Looking back on it, Harley’s not entirely sure how this happened.

Like—he knows how, he lived it, each and every agonizing moment of it, but, sometimes, when he reminisces on the timeline of events, it doesn’t really feel real. It doesn’t feel like something he really experienced.

It is, though. First, with his dad, leaving in broad daylight and never coming back. Harley, seven years old and—and so sad, wondering why daddy left, wondering if daddy ever loved him. Mama pet his hair when he cried and promised him that they didn’t need David Keener to be happy, but there was a lot less happiness in that house when he left. Darcy Keener started to look heavier and heavier with each passing day, until it seemed as though she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. As much as Harley tried to get his little sister to smile, Emilee, far too smart for someone so young, would only start to cry with anguish. She missed their father. Harley did, too.

Then, for a few years, slowly lifting themselves up, building a new foundation without David’s help, until it was stable enough for the three of them, until they weren’t really—happy, no, but—content, maybe. Something close to it.

Until Emilee got sick.

Harley got his first job to try and pay the hospital bills and buy the medicine she needed when they inevitably couldn’t afford to keep her in the hospital anymore. He got his second job while still working his first, dropped out of high school because his mother was too stressed to even notice when he stopped going, managed to start fixing up neighbor’s cars and broken lamps and mowing lawns during the little free time he had just to get that little bit of extra cash. He got the right foods that the doctors said Emilee’s body was capable of processing, he added his money to his mother’s stash set aside to buy her meds, he sat with her every night until she fell asleep before climbing out of his window to work the night shift at his second job. He did everything he possibly could.

He was seventeen when Emilee passed away in her sleep. Peaceful, the doctor’s assured them—she felt no pain, and now she’ll be able to rest. In Heaven, they assured, where she could be happy again.

Harley stopped believing in Heaven the day his dad abandoned them. He didn’t say that, though—just hugged his mother and let her sob into his shoulder.

Darcy lost herself, a little bit at first, and then entirely. She slept in and would be late for her shifts, drank more coffee than was healthy and then made it worse by adding liquor to it at seven in the morning. She looked at Harley with glazed over eyes and never seemed to hear the way he cried at night. One day, she didn’t come home from work, and Harley waited up for her all night, the panic slowly rising in his throat until it felt like he was choking on it, thinking that she might never come back. Thinking that Darcy and David might start to go hand in hand—but she did come home, dead on her feet and looking bruised. She went straight to her room and never responded when Harley asked where she went.

On his eighteenth birthday, Darcy didn’t remember. He bought himself some cupcakes and he sat on the floor of Emilee’s room and he drank the liquor he stole from his mother’s cabinet until he felt numb to it all. Slept like that, curled up atop the carpet, bottle curled up against his chest and arms hugging himself.

She drove to work one day, a little too far away from sober. They said her eyes were probably struggling to focus and her head might have been spinning and she didn’t realize the light was red until it was too late to stop.

He left the night that she died.

New York, of all places—and he still isn’t sure why he chose to run to the city, hours and hours away. The distance, maybe, to separate himself from his past and allow his chest to expand easier. Breathing, sometimes, feels like a task, or a chore. Too much work, but still he does it. Doesn’t have a choice, really.

The drive from Rose Hill to New York was made in his mother’s car, somehow not totaled despite the accident. There were stains that he didn’t want to look at, didn’t want to think about. The first thing he did was trade his piece of shit car for someone else’s piece of shit car just to get rid of the memories, just to free himself from the knowledge that he was driving the thing his mother died in.

That’s what he drives now, the crappy Oldsmobile that he traded with someone on Craigslist. It’s old, run down, in need of a lot of love, but he can’t afford a new car, so he does his best to take care of her. Names her Em, doesn’t think of why.

It’s her and him against the world, though. They have to make it out alive.

-

Someone slash’s his tires while he’s sleeping.

He doesn’t notice it when he first wakes up, just sits up, tries his best to stretch his limbs in the limited space, and reaches for his shitty pre-paid phone that he only bought so that his work can get in contact with him. There’s no missed calls, no unopened texts, and he’s not scheduled for today.

Climbing out of his car to properly shake out his sleep heavy limbs, he looks around the alley that he parked his car in last night—was too tired to drive to the lot he usually parks in at night. That’s his mistake, really, because the lot is vacant and hidden in the shadows and no one ever bothers him there. Alleyways, though, are often visited by other homeless people and the people who make drug deals in the dead of night and, occasionally, random, harmless kids just going on a walk, apparently used to and unafraid of the danger.

There’s no telling who slashes his tires or why the hell they did it, but it’s the first time he’s had to call Tony’s shop during working hours, in need of a tow truck, four new tires, and—well. Harley could do with a hug.

He won’t ask for that, though. It’s been a few years since he had one, anyway.

-

It takes five words for Harley to almost have a panic attack.

“This is pretty pricey, kid,” Tony tells him, arms crossed over his chest as he frowns at the Oldsmobile with furrowed brows. Harley thinks the air is immediately sucked out of his lungs because—well, of course it’s pricey. Of course he shouldn’t have assumed that Tony wouldn’t make him pay just because he’s let Harley get light work done for free before. Of course.

“Yeah,” Harley says, feelings a bit—breathless? He fumbles for his wallet, sinks his teeth into his lower lip so hard that he thinks he tastes copper. There’s a small stack of bills that he pulls out with unsteady fingers. “I, uh—I have—how much is it? I can—I mean, I can try to—or just, just leave, or—or—”

Tony holds out his hands, no longer looking at the car and instead trying to hold Harley’s gaze with his brows raised. “Calm down, kid. It’s fine.”

Harley shakes his head. “No, I—I can’t afford it, so I’ll just—“

“I’m not making you pay,” Tony interrupts, looking confused. “I haven’t made you pay yet, why would I start now? College discount, kid. Most college students can’t afford this shit, and you clearly need to have a working car. You’re fine.”

“But—”

Before Harley can try to argue this, the door leading from the office of the shop is pushed open and a—a teenager?—comes walking out, looking down at his phone with a frown. “Uh, Mr. Stark? I know I was supposed to be helping you out today, but Dr. Banner just texted me saying he was looking at my project and knocked something over and now the lab is—“ the guy squints at his phone, looks bewildered, “—engulfed in blue flames. His words. I think I gotta—“

Tony laughs—laughs, something that Harley hasn’t heard in the months he’s been coming to this shop—and waves his hand. “Go ahead, Pete.”

The guy—Pete—looks up with a sheepish smile, falters when he sees Harley, and only looks conflicted for a few seconds before he spins around and goes back into the office, emerging a few quick moments later with a bag slung over his shoulder and a pep in his step. “See you later, Mr. Stark!” he calls, before making his way out of the shop without looking back.

“He seems...” Harley trails off, effectively distracted from the clawing panic that had been climbing up his throat before. “Happy?”

“Yeah, usually is,” Tony says, sounding fond, lighter than Harley’s ever heard before. “He works with my husband, but he goes to ESU, which is closer to here than to the lab. Doesn’t have a car or anything, so he usually just hangs out here and gives me a hand after his classes until I can give him a ride. But, sometimes, shit happens and he has to take the subway instead.” He turns back to the car, already on the jack and raised up enough to deal with the tires, no longer seems inclined to talk about price or anything as he gets to work on the front driver’s side tire. Instead, he asks, “What school do you go to?”

Harley falters. “Uh, what?”

Tony glances over at him, quirking a brow. “School, kid. Which one?”

“Right. I, uh—“ Harley stops, tries to wrack his brain for a quick, easy answer. After a moment that’s definitely too long, he replies with, “NYU.”

Tony frowns at him. “Really?”

Harley looks away, clears his throat. “Yeah. NYU.”

“Alright,” Tony murmurs, turning back to the tire. “Let’s say I believe you. I don’t, ‘cause that was the most obvious lying I’ve ever seen, but let’s say I do. What do you study? What classes are you taking right now?”

“Why do you care?” Harley fires back, a harsh bite in his tone.

Tony huffs a laugh. “You’re a kid, that’s why. Lying can’t mean anything good.”

“I’m nineteen,” Harley tells him. “Legally, an adult.”

“Still a teenager,” Tony says. “You gonna try to answer the questions, or are you gonna tell me the truth?”

Harley clenches his jaw, grinds his teeth. “It’s not your business.”

Tony falters, hands pressed against the tire that he’s already gotten off. Eventually, he turns around. “Alright,” he says. “Not my business. That’s fine. How about we talk cost instead, hm? Tires aren’t cheap, kiddo.”

And that panic from before comes crawling back, sneaking its way up Harley’s spine as he tightens his fingers around the bills still clutched in his hand. He holds it out and pretends he isn’t visibly shaking. “This is all I have.”

“I’m not taking your money,” Tony tells him.

Harley thinks there are tears burning the backs of his eyes. “Then why the fuck did you bring up cost? Just, take it, and I’ll—I’ll head out, and—“

“I have a feeling,” Tony cuts in, “that, whatever it is you’re lying about, it’s not safe. I have a feeling that you’re not safe. Am I right to assume that?”

Harley blinks at him, wide and misty in the eyes.

Tony hums. “I’ll take that as a yes. Come on, let’s sit down and chat.”

-

There are walls that you build up—a foundation of bricks placed at seven years old when you’re abandoned by a father you thought loved you. Walls that become higher, more reinforced, as years upon years of shit goes by. Harley has a fortress built around him, to keep people out, to keep himself in.

It takes thirty seven minutes for Tony to carefully pick at those walls until they crumble, and it leaves Harley sobbing in a way that he hasn’t let himself do since Emilee died, heaving for breaths that ache and burn his lungs and make his head spin, tears pooling in his eyes and streaming down his face in rivers. Tony looks heartbroken as Harley chokes it all out, tells him everything, admits that he’s been sleeping in his car for over a year now and has nobody left.

Pulls him into a hug, a soft and warm kind that Harley would never assume the brooding mechanic was capable of, and tells him, “It’s gonna be fine, kid,” and brushes callused fingers through Harley’s hair like his mama used to do. When he’s done and exhausted, Tony offers him a place to stay for the night, and Harley is too emotionally drained to refuse, allows himself to be guided to Tony’s car and given a ride to a house that’s only five minutes from the shop.

Dr. Banner—Bruce, apparently—doesn’t seem all that surprised when he gets home, just smiles kindly at Harley and puts on a movie while Tony makes something to eat. When Harley, with his knees curled to his chest and a blanket draped over his shoulders, hoarsely asks why they’re being so nice to him, Bruce softly tells him, “Tony and I had pretty rough childhoods, too. When we see kids that need support, or a home, or even just a hot meal, we do what we can to help. Did it for Peter, and now he’s top of his class at ESU and on track to graduate early. Helped out Harry, too, and that kid is gonna change the world.”

Harley is still confused.

“Sometimes,” Bruce goes on, “all you need is someone to tell you that you’re gonna make it to the other side. That’s what we try to do.”

He eats—more than he’s had to eat in a long, long time. Sleeps on the couch because he refuses to take their guest room, and he has breakfast with them, too. When he goes to leave, though, Tony frowns. “Where are you gonna go?”

“Back to my car, I guess,” Harley says, shrugging.

“That isn’t safe,” Tony says.

Harley shrugs again. “I don’t really have a choice.”

Bruce looks at Tony, at Harley, and tells him, “We have the space. If you need somewhere to stay until you can get your own place, you can stay here.”

He says no. Of course he says no, but when he starts to leave again, he remembers that his car is still in the shop, remembers that his phone is dead and he was supposed to work today and his boss told him that if he was late again then he would be fired. Remembers that he got a hug for the first time in years last night and it made him feel safe in a way he can’t ever remember feeling before, and he turns on his heel with his jaw clenched and his head held high, makes his way back to the kitchen and says, “I have one condition.”

-

On Harley’s second day working at the shop with Tony, the door opens and two guys walks in, in the middle of a conversation that seems energetic and lively. One of them, Harley recognizes at Peter, the guy from before. The other, he doesn’t know. They both stop when they see him, exchange quick glances before making their way over. “Hi,” Peter says.

Harley has motor oil up to his elbows and smeared on his cheek and he doesn’t think he looks very presentable for meeting someone new, but he was raised to be polite. “Hi,” he replies, using a rag to try and wipe the oil from his skin.

“I’m Peter. This—” he gestures to the other guy, “—is Harry. You’re Harley, right?” At Harley’s slow blink, Peter assures, “Dr. Banner mentioned you yesterday, and I remember seeing you, last week, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Harley says. “I’m Harley. Harley Keener.”

Peter grins, and Harry shifts a bit awkwardly from foot to foot but still manages a friendly sort of smile. “Cool,” Peter says. “Do you need any help?”

Harley looks down at the engine he’s been fixing up, knows that he doesn’t need help, no, but probably wouldn’t mind the company since Tony had to take a call and ran off to run an errand right after. “Not really,” he says. “But, you can... sit down, or something, I guess? I’m almost done with this, anyway.”

Harry cocks his head slightly, looks at the engine for a moment and then at Harley again, before looking at Peter with a slightly bigger smile. “We can sit,” Harry says, taking Peter by the wrist and leading him over to the nearest bench.

Turning back to the engine, Harley tries not to notice the weird sort of silence that’s hovering over them. He’s not good at conversation starters, really, and he feels oddly nervous, like he wants to impress them. Can’t really place why.

“So,” Peter starts, breaking the little bought of nothing. “Where’re you from?”

It’s a simple question. It’s a loaded answer.

Harley stops and considers it for a moment.

“Tennessee,” he eventually responds. “But... I think I like it better here.”

When he looks, there’s somewhat knowing smiles pulling on both Peter’s and Harry’s lips, like they can see through his answer, read it for what it really is. He doesn’t mind, he realizes. His walls were already broken through, and he doesn’t want to go back to hiding himself behind the rubble that remains. Rather, he wants to use that rubble and build himself a bridge.

Maybe, that way, he can make it to the other side.

[imnotwolverine]

The good, the bad and the parents

Henry Cavill x OC Lisa - multi-chapter fic

Author’s note: There’s a lot of ups and downs when you live your life in the spotlights... Gosh this chapter got so long. OOPS. I hope you Henry-bear lovers can endure. 

Word count: 4.918

Disclaimer: fluff

--

This is part 11 of the Tea for Two story. 

Find the Masterlist here. 

--

< Go back to part 10

The cab rocked over the cobbled stones as it moved at a snail’s pace through the narrow London streets. I wasn’t even bothering anymore to check what time it was, but it was dark and it had been raining for hours. Prejudice confirmed: England stands equal to rain. Blergh. I really hadn’t missed this moody European weather.

I looked over at Henry, whose baritone voice hummed through the cab as he was making a phone call. He was rubbing his temple in annoyance, his whole body silently screaming: Fuck this phone conversation. Poor bear. 

I felt my heart ache for him, but it didn’t seem like a good moment to bother him with well-meant cuddles. I looked back out of the window, trying to find any street signs. Were we almost there? The thick water drops on the window made it rather difficult to decipher anything and I soon enough gave up, sighing softly.

This had been one shitty journey. Excruciatingly long, with lots of bad weather, endless delays, some trouble with Kal’s traveling papers and as a cherry on top: lost baggage. Sometimes travelling was fun. Sometimes it wasn’t. Today it was definitely the latter.

‘Madam, sir, looks like the road is blocked. I could drop you off here. It’s a 5-minute walk to the address if you take a right turn here.’ The cab driver pointed at a small alleyway between the sloping brick buildings. Henry looked up from his call, moving the phone from his ear and covering it with his hand. ‘Alright..’ He nodded, before looking at me with a defeated smile. ‘Let’s go home.’ He said, the fatigue evident in his voice. I nodded in turn, sitting up and paying the cab driver while Henry quickly finished his phone call.

—

After what seemed like the longest suitcase walk from hell, including freezing cold rain, uneven cobblestone roads, a very impatient Kal tugging at his leash and a tired-to-the-bone Henry..we arrived. Finally! For heaven’s sake!

Henry was busy digging up his keys, so I took the moment to look around, the rain having thankfully dimmed down to a light drizzle. I wiped the wet strands of hair out of my face and peered through the dimly lit street. I could distinguish a small courtyard, surrounded by a dozen small Mews houses laid out in pretty red brick. This is rather cute. I didn’t know what I had exactly expected from Henry’s house. I guess probably something more modern. Something like a Hollywood bachelor pad with large windows and clean white walls. Now…this was anything but that. This was actually really quaint and romantic.

I felt Henry’s hand on mine as he took my suitcase, awakening me from my silent observation of the neighbourhood. Our eyes met. ‘So..’ Henry started, moving my suitcase inside, being immediately interrupted by Kal who’d walked up to Henry, shaking off the rain from his thick fur coat. ‘KAL! Come on man.’ Henry wrinkled his nose as the drops flew around, his one arm trying to shield himself, while the other pushed Kal to the back of the hallway. I chuckled softly. ‘Try two.’ Henry sighed, stepping back towards the door and gesturing me to come inside. ‘Milady. I’d like to welcome you to my..humble abode.’ He said, politely nodding his head. I smiled warmly at him, quickly shrugging off my coat as he took it from me, placing it on a hook near the door.  

The house oozed “Henry”. Be it the slightly musky smell, the coatrack full of discarded jumpers and coats - all his - or the gazillion dog toys that were strewn over the floor. Okay, maybe the house was 50% Kal, 50% Henry. I smiled at the thought as I heard Kal’s nails happily ticking on the old oak floors. I looked over my shoulder, seeing Henry still standing near the door. What was he up to? His large blue eyes looked back at me quietly, expectantly. Was he nervous about my first impression of his house? I smiled a reassuring smile before peeling off my wet shoes and joined Kal in what appeared to be the living room.

Henry followed close at my heels as I started to look around. A small living room with a soft grey corner sofa, shelves filled with movie paraphernalia, fantasy books and pictures. And of course Henry’s trusty treadmill, that was placed in the far back corner - used whenever he didn’t feel like doing his morning cardio outside. ‘This is so much homelier then I expected.’ I smiled, looking for Henry over my shoulder, but instead being greeted by his whole body as he pressed himself against me.

‘Hmmm.’ Henry hummed, his wet hair dripping on my cheek. I chuckled softly, leaning into his broad chest as he wrapped his arms around me, his hands folding around mine to warm them back up. ‘You’re freezing.’ He whispered, pulling me even closer. I nodded in silent agreement. I was too tired for polite conversation and just wanted to enjoy his hug, allowing my eyes to fly back to Kal who was zooming around the house happily, a toy squashed in his large muzzle. ‘Well at least ONE of us still has some energy left.’ I groaned. ‘Yea..I probably should walk him soon before he breaks the whole place down.’ Henry said, pushing his nose into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. ‘Probably.’ I smiled, enjoying his hot breath as it made my skin tingle. I had long forgotten the cold and rainy weather outside now my personal body heater had pressed himself against me. I hummed happily, turning around in his arms and looked up into his stormy blues. ‘Welcome home.’ I said, earning the first real - albeit tired - smile from him in hours.

——

The next morning I decided to give myself a little house tour. Henry had of course shown me some essentials last night. Essentials like the toilet and the bed. And…well..okey..maybe that was actually all. We simply hadn’t made it much further than the bed since we had been too tired. But.. the good news was that it had left me a whole 2 bedroom house filled with Henry’s stuff to explore now Kal and Henry were out for a quick morning walk, picking up some breakfast for the three of us. Perfect timing for some snooping around.

One shower later, my body now wrapped in some comfy dark blue palazzo trousers and a big beige sweater, I decided it would be the upper floor first. A floor that was covered in such light beige carpet that it was an absolute no-go-zone for Kal and his mess. No dog toys to be tripped over at night. The master bed room with its four poster king size bed was simple yet effective. There was a large closet with Henry’s clothes on one end of the room and it connected directly to a good sized bathroom with his and hers sinks, a toilet, shower and bath. Quite the luxury for London standards. On the landing there was another huge built-in closet running the whole length of the wall. I opened a few doors. Gym clothes, neatly stacked. Of course. Another door. Leather jackets, at least 20. Goodness..me. I don’t think I ever met a man with this many clothes. The closet door at the far right however proved to be the most interesting. Oh yes! Costumes! I let my hand glide over some of the materials. Movie costumes. Hmm. I had been aware of the fact that only one set of each costume was saved when a movie production was wrapped up. But I had never really thought about what happened to the other costume sets. Well. Apparently they were all stored here by Henry, as this closet was about to burst with the many costumes it contained.

My fingers drifted over the fabrics, before halting when they touched a supple deep red fabric. Hmm. Intriguing. Very different from all the medieval-like browns and greys. I pulled it out. A cape. Oh. OH! Superman’s cape! Well how about that. It was surprisingly light, flowing effortlessly through the air as I moved it around. Pretty.

‘Honey, I’m back.’ Henry’s voice sounded from the bottom of the stairs. DARN! I hadn’t even heard the front door. I swallowed my surprised gasp as I quickly pushed the cape back in between the costumes. ‘Coming!’ I chanted, struggling as this darn closet was way too closely packed. Hmmpfff. ‘GET BACK IN THERE.’ I muttered under my breath. ‘Want some tea?’ He asked, still at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Ye..DARNIT,’ A few costumes fell off their hangers, now causing a whole avalanche of clothes to spill out. ‘YES.’ I exclaimed, perhaps a tad too loud. I heard Henry’s chuckle come closer as his feet moved up the creaking stairs.

‘Ah, so that’s what you’re up to.’ His chuckle turned into a laugh as he saw me struggling with a bunch of costumes in one arm, Superman’s cape in the other. ‘Oh..’ My eyes got big with embarrassment. ‘Sorry…’ I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. ‘Me and this closet were just having a little…disagreement.’ I said while Henry took over some of the costumes, his big blue eyes giving me an amused look. ‘I see.’ He grinned, looking back at the closet. ‘I guess I really should get a bigger closet for all of these, hmm?’ He smiled, his body turning towards the closet to put back the costumes one by one. Inadvertently my eyes caressed his tall frame as his arms flexed under the soft material of his grey sweater. So hot. Wew.

He turned back around, making his stubborn curl fall back over his forehead as he reached for the cape in my arm. He rubbed his thumbs over the fabric, gingerly smiling. The sudden realisation came over me I was right now looking at Superman. The Superman. Especially with that darn curl tumbling down his forehead..he sure was the spitting image of the superhero. I felt another blush creep up my cheeks and was more then glad that Henry didn’t notice as he finally reached back into the closet to squeeze the cape back in there.

And…another few costumes fell out again. He sighed, letting out a dry chuckle while looking down at the costumes that had tumbled to his feet. ‘See!’ I exclaimed, laughing at the fact that Henry was failing to do the exact same thing I had tried. He raised a handsome eyebrow, shrugging. ‘I guess Supe’s doesn’t want to go back in there.’ He pulled the cape back out and placed it carefully back in my arms. GOSH, stop blushing girl. I felt my cheeks burn as he moved back up from picking up some of the fallen down costumes. ‘What is it?’ He asked, half-knowing the answer, a humoured glint in his eyes. ‘Oh..nothing.’ I breathed, quickly lowering my eyes at the cape. ‘So where do we leave this..?’ I said, trying to sound casual about it, shrugging slightly, still feeling the slight blush burning on my cheeks. ‘Just put it on the bed. We’ll find a place for it later. Let’s have breakfast.’ He said, cupping my cheek and placing a chaste kiss on my lips.

How in the hell did I ever get to date Superman? Life’s so weird.

——

It was the night of the London premiere. I was fidgeting endlessly while waiting for the cab to arrive. I walked back to the mirror in the hallway, checking my hair and make-up for the gazilionth time. It was fine. I looked fine. Pffft. E-very-thing would be fine. Keep it together girl. I straightened out my thick winter jacket, again, and paced back to the living room. Kal was fast asleep on the floor, the lights were dimmed down and the house was quiet. Oh how I wish I could just stay at home and get comfy on the couch with a cup of tea. But avoiding challenging situations was not my thing. I best just get this over with, right?

A car approached and I felt my heart jump again. That must be it. I felt my phone buzz, alarming me the cab had arrived. Okey. Let’s go. Let’s..let’s meet the parents.

——

I entered the gallery of the movie theatre while the interviews were being held on the red carpet outside. Already there was quite a buzz and it took me a good moment to find the cloakroom where I could drop off my jacket. Alright, what’s next? I let my eyes travel through the crowd, trying to find any familiar faces. Some hair- and make-up ladies…nahh..I barely knew them. Anyone else? I looked further and further until my gaze reached the far back corner. And sure enough - Thank the gods! - I noticed a few of the sound guys from Poland and my uneasy heart calmed down. Friendly folk. I picked up a glass of white wine at the bar and made my way to them, earning praising looks as they noticed me appearing from the crowd. The black and white dress was working its magic.

‘Not too bad looking yourself gents.’ I winked, stepping into their little circle and clinking my glass with theirs. ‘Ah..it’s at least an attempt.’ The Sound 1 guy smiled, shrugging. I believed his name was Jack, but everyone always called him Sound 1 so I wasn’t completely sure. I nodded at him and Jack sighed, his suit jacket barely holding on as the button strained under his bulging belly. And do I spy he is still wearing his usual dark blue jeans? I quietly chuckled, taking a sip of my wine. Nerds will be nerds.

‘So now it’s just waiting for your prince charming, huh?’ Jack asked, looking around the room. ‘Worse even. I’m about to meet…the parents.’ I muttered quietly, taking another large sip, hoping the wine would further calm my nerves. ‘OH! Well ain’t that exciting. Surely they are friendly folk.’ He smiled, his gruff moustache curling up. He reminded me somewhat of a chubby Jack Nicholson with beard. Yea..surely his name was Jack. It fit him.

‘Hey,’ Sound 2 interrupted us. ‘I think that’s them.’ We looked at the direction he was pointing at, seeing a small blonde lady with neatly coifed hair followed by a bear of a man. Oh my. That looks like them. They look just like the pictures Henry showed. I quickly turned back, seeing the men were making no attempt to hide their stares. ‘Don’t stare.’ I admonished, patting Sound 2 - Alex? was it Alex? - on his arm. He grinned, his eyes meandering through the room before finally looking back at me. ‘Well..no worries. They’re off to the bar. I think you’re safe for another few minutes. So.. the first time meeting them..and it’s right here at the premier, hmm?’ Alex / Sound 2 said, raising a careful eyebrow before turning to one of the others who asked him a question.

I hadn’t quite heard what they were discussing, so I just decided to smile before taking another sip of my wine. These silly nerves! How bad could it really be? I quickly glanced over my shoulder, noticing Henry’s father leaning over the bar to order a drink. Hmmpff! When would Henry be here? There was no sighting of him yet and with my current drinking speed I sure would be hella drunk by the time I’d finally get to shake hands with his parents. I looked back at the group, noticing Alex was looking back at me. His big grey eyes were looking even bigger through the thick lenses of his glasses, enlarging every movement of his eyes. Alex was your typical “grey mouse”, currently wearing a dull grey suit which was perhaps a size too large for his slender frame, his long fingers wrapped around a nearly empty glass of beer. I smiled awkwardly at him, taking a shallow breath.

‘So ..eh…what have you guys been up to? Got any projects going on right now?’ I asked. Alex shrugged. ‘Oh just some small projects. Nothing real interesting. Just waiting for the new season to start.’ Alex said, rolling the last sip of his beer around in his glass. ‘Going to get another drink. Can I get you folk anything?’ He asked, looking up at the others, whom were quick to order: three more beers and a soda. His eyes fell on me, before looking down at my nearly empty wineglass. ‘Another?’ He smirked. ‘I guess so…’ I sighed, looking down at the glass. Was it smart to get hammered? Probably not.. ‘You know what. I’ll follow you there. Might as well get this over with and “accidentally” run into his parents.’ I said, downing the last bit of wine and turning towards the bar. I couldn’t see them right now since the room was too crowded, but surely they were still there. Alex nodded. ‘Fair enough. Grab the bull by the horns!’ He smiled. I rolled my eyes at him, immediately feeling that nervous flutter in my guts.

Oh Henry. Please be here soon.  

——

I had ordered my wine and found Henry’s parents standing just a few meters away. I took a deep breath, nodding at Alex who had placed the other drinks on a tray, before heading over.

I squeezed through the crowd and quickly swallowed my nerves. ‘Hi there.’ I said. The man and woman immediately looked up at me, their faces telling me they were definitely recognising me. Had Henry shown some pictures? Probably. ‘Henry’s parents right?’ I smiled. ’Oh! Oh yes! Sorry dear. Hello. You must be Lisa. My my you are SO tall! My name’s Marianne…’ The woman reached out her small warm hand, eagerly folding it around mine and shaking it. ‘..And I am Colin.’ The man spoke in deep english accent, also shaking my hand. Henry obviously got the tall genes from his dad, and the good looks from his mom. Her greyblue eyes sparkled through thick long lashes as a kind smile made her cheeks dimple. A pretty woman for sure.

‘Nice to meet you Marianne..Colin. I’m sorry for the intrusion. I guess I was getting more nervous to meet you with the passing minute..’ I smiled awkwardly, not finishing my sentence. Marianne laughed, sounding like chiming bells as she squinted her eyes. ‘Oh how darling! Well it is nice to finally meet you.’ She peered into my eyes with something that could be best described as motherly love. Okey. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad. She seemed nice.

‘I can remember when I got to meet Colin’s parents. I was absolutely terrified!’ She winked, eyeing her husband as he shrugged, unimpressed. ‘It wasn’t that bad dear.’ He said, before taking a better look at me. ‘You are..dutch..right?’ He asked. I nodded. ‘Yes. Born and raised, then moved to Los Angeles when I was 27, for work.’ I answered, trying my best to curl my tense lips in a soft smile. Oh these darn nerves. I took another quick sip of my wine, while Colin continued. ‘All praise for the dutch. I had some dutch colleagues during my time in the navy and they sure were good folk. Straightforward, hard working..and dare I say perfect company for a game of cards.’ He winked. Marianne quickly poked him in his ribs. ‘Colin! Don’t make her another victim of your card games.’ She huffed, earning a shrug from her husband. ‘She doesn’t like it when I joke around.’ He said a touch more softly while slightly leaning into me. I rolled my eyes. ‘I highly doubt it.’ I smirked, seeing Marianne’s mock-annoyed roll of the eyes. We all laughed.

‘But I do think the rest of your description is quite fitting. We are straightforward and hard working people, the dutch. I remember that moment when I got to LA. My team was super apprehensive of having this “european chick” joining their team, but thankfully they soon warmed up to me. So much so, that I now lead the team, which is super cool.’ I smiled at Colin. He nodded. ‘A career woman!’ He laughed. ‘Sort of..’ I shrugged, ‘..Though I have more to live for than just work.’ I said, taking another quick sip of my drink. ‘Hmmm..that reminds me of..’ Colin started.. ‘Oh! And Henry told me you are a fantastic cook!’ Marianne interjected, quickly stopping Colin from bringing up fuzzy old memories. We shared a mutual smile as I answered. ‘I guess so. I don’t like to boast, but..yes.. I guess I’m a pretty good cook..And it’s especially fun since Henry is into cooking as well. It’s good to have a shared hobby.’ I spoke, noticing Colin’s gaze had moved to something happening at the other side of the room.

‘But you are a quite phenomenal cook too, aren’t you?’ I winked at Marianne, turning a bit so I could also take a quick glance at the commotion near the entrance. All I saw was lots of flashes. ‘Well that’s what you do when there’s six hungry men to feed!’ Marianne laughed, moving to her tippy toes and craning her neck in an attempt to see anything. The crowd was too tall, completely blocking her view and she soon sighed in defeat. ‘If only I would grow a bit more in height from all that food!’ She exclaimed.

‘There he is! The man of the hour.’ Colin boasted proudly, wrapping an arm around his wife. Marianne smiled up at him, before looking at me, giddy excitement sketching her face. ‘Is he coming our way?’ She asked, peering in the direction of the flashes. I looked back at the cloud of flashing cameras, only seeing the top of his hair as he ever so slowly coasted through the crowd. ‘..Eventually.’ I shrugged, amusement in my voice. I turned back towards them.

‘So do you also live here in London?’ I asked. Colin shook his head, his eye occasionally flying back to Henry’s direction. ‘No, no, we’re just here for a few days. Visiting some family and friends before flying back to our beloved Jersey Islands on Sunday.’ He said. Marianne shrieked and folded her hand around my arm, eagerly pulling it to turn me around. ‘LOOK!! I see him! There there!’ She squealed. Me and Colin shared a knowing look, both amused at her excitement. Such a proud mom. Colin winked at me before squaring his shoulders with pride as “the man of the hour” finally neared us. ‘Moms will be moms.’ He said airily.  

Henry wore a dark grey suit, his black blouse buttoned open to show a smattering of chest hair. Gosh. He looked so handsome. I squeezed my knees closer together, feeling my core burn up for him. Okay Lisa. Focus. Calm down. Act normal. Just act normal. I looked back in his direction and our eyes interlocked for a brief moment before he accidentally bumped into some people, immediately offering his profuse apologies. I smiled, not being able to tear away my eyes from him as he moved his attention to closing the last bit of the distance between us. My silly, far too handsome man.

While Henry tried to move to us, it seemed to get more and more crowded. There were so many people trying to get a look at Henry that we were soon finding ourselves trapped in a pushing and pulling mayhem of fans and press. Oh man. This is not cool. I looked down at Marianne, who was so very small compared to all these tall people around us. She looked at me with a slight shade of concern in her eyes, her tiny figure leaning heavily into Colin’s broad chest. This is so not cool. I looked back at Henry, whose eyes were now piercing mine as he was just an arm’s reach away from us. His eyes spoke a thousand words. I’m so sorry. I hate this just as much as you do. I want to get out of here.

At long last the path was cleared - apparently Henry did have two bodyguards with him that finally managed to control the crowd. He first wrapped his arms around his mother, pulling her in for a big hug, before shaking hands with his father. They exchanged a word or two before he turned around, smiling at me. Oh my dear Henry. We looked at each other like two puppy dogs in love. ‘Hello beauty.’ He whispered, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on my lips. Flash flash flash. ‘You’ve already met my parents, I see.’ He winked, turning back towards his parents. ‘My my. Mom you look great!’ He complimented, a broad smile on his face. She poked him in the arm. ‘Oh stop it you.’ She cooed. ‘Shall we..find somewhere more quiet?’ He asked, looking around to signal his bodyguards before looking back at us.

Yes. Oh please! I thought, feeling myself getting more and more annoyed as someone was continuously poking me in the back. I looked over my shoulder and immediately a wild flash burst right in my face. HMMPFF. blinked my blinded eyes a few times, grasping Henry’s arm to steady myself. These people! Have some mercy..please! Fucking hell. I felt a protective hand fold over mine. ‘You okay?’ He breathed, pulling me closer. I nodded quietly, feeling slightly disoriented as the lights danced in front of my eyes. He nodded once my dazed eyes looked back at him, his brows slightly furrowing. ‘Let’s go.’ He muttered, clearly not amused by the whole thing.

We moved our drinks to the bar, not wanting to spill them, before a new path was cleared and we finally managed to move away. No more blinding camera flashes. No more posters and Witcher paraphernalia that were shoved in our faces, to be signed. And no more gossip that was spoken just a tad too loud - ‘Look at how flat she is. She definitely needs to eat.’ - ‘Did you see that? She’s sooo ugly.’ - ‘PSSSTTT! Snake! You’re a snake!’

I clung to Henry’s arm as if he were my life buoy. Sure I had gotten a thick skin throughout the years of working in the movie industry..but still.. it stung when people spoke like that. I felt my heart sink with every word and a silent tear burned in my eye as I crushed my teeth together, trying to keep up good appearances. By the time we arrived at a more secluded area where we could sit down, I had almost squeezed Henry’s arm to mush. 

‘You can relax now.’ He whispered, laying gentle fingers over my hand. I let out a shivery breath as our eyes met. Those knowing blue eyes. I felt my lip shiver as the unshed tears burned. He looked at me with question and all I could do was shake my head, a hot tear moving down my cheek. Within an instant he had wrapped his arms protectively around me, hiding me from prying eyes. He leaned his head down, quietly nuzzling my hair. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He whispered quietly. ‘This was not okay and I’m sorry.’ We stood there for a quiet moment, embracing each other, while my tears dried. I couldn’t even care that much for whomever saw me. Or what his parents would think. I was just glad Henry was there. Glad I could at least hide away in his big bear-arms.

‘I…I need a drink.’ I said with shivery voice while slowly untangling myself from his arms. He looked at me, his calm blue eyes studying my green ones. ‘Do you want to go home?’ He asked honestly, no judgement in his voice. I shook my head, quietly smiling. ‘No..no. It’s fine. It’s just..the nerves kind of got to me. And now I finally get to meet your parents and I’m a crying mess…’ I spoke, feeling one of his thumbs rubbing my cheek. ‘Do I look like a raccoon now?’ I asked, seeing him smile down at me. ‘No. No, you look perfect.’ He said. ‘Somehow I doubt that.’ I raised an eyebrow, shaking my head softly. ‘I swear it! Scout’s honour! You look beautiful and your make-up is where it should be and…’

I gasped, quickly swatting his arm. ‘My make-up is where it should be, huh?’ I huffed, quickly retrieving my phone from my handbag to check it for myself. Hair. Make-up. Okey, fine. He was right. I was looking surprisingly fresh and my make-up was indeed still looking alright. I looked back at Henry who was looking at me with such awkward desperation, he sure as hell was expecting to be dragged to hell and back. ‘Okay, it’s fine.’ I shrugged in silent defeat. He sighed and immediately his face lit up as he hummed in delight, quickly placing a kiss on my cheek. ‘Pfieww! Got me worried there. I would not want to get in your bad book.’ He smiled. I rolled my eyes, wrapping an arm around him and looked to the corner where his parents had taken a seat. They had squeezed themselves in a corner of a large fluffy purple couch, currently having an animated conversation with one of the waiters.  

‘Okay.’ I nodded with a determination in my voice. ‘I’m okay. Let’s join your parents.’

‘Okay.’ Henry smiled, offering me the warmest of smiles.

--

Part 12 > 

[thiswasinevitableid]

42 or 20 with indruck! Can you tell I'm a sap?? ❤❤❤

I went with 20, since I’ve actually done a variation for 42 for Indruck before.

Prompt 20 from this list: My amazing partner just dumped me. Please come home with me for the holidays and pretend to be my partner.

“DUCK I NEED HELP!”

Duck’s used to his neighbor and friend entering his house without knocking. After all, he does much the same to him. But the panicked tone is enough to send him tumbling off the couch.

“Ow. What’s up, ‘Drid?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Indrid drops to the floor to check on him, and Duck waves his hand dismissively to show he’s fine, “I’m just, it’s, I realized another horrible part of Derrick dumping me.” 

Duck sits up, facing his friend as the thinner man continues, “The few times I spoke with my parents since I started dating him, I bragged about how wonderful he was. Goodness knows they’d criticized me enough for everything else, at the very least it felt nice to tell them my relationship was going well. And now I get to go home in a week for the holidays, without the wonderful boyfriend I told them all I had. It’s going to make everything worse.”

Duck nods sympathetically. He’d been the first person Indrid told about the break up, Derrick leaving him abruptly two weeks ago after revealing he’d been dating someone else at the same time until he could make up his mind about who would make the better.

He’d apparently said Indrid needed “too much work” to be the winning partner. Duck keeps hoping to run into the guy so he can give him a piece of his mind (and tell him to be glad it’s Duck, and not Aubrey, who’s confronting him because she is pissed). 

Indrid is weird, sure. He can be absentminded, messy, can leave sketches scattered across his floor for weeks. But he’s funny, thoughtful, and Duck has pictured him without clothes more than once, wondering what it would be like if it was him drawing the high, faintly cracked noises from him on the other side of the wall. 

But more than any of that Duck always gets a strange sense of belonging when he comes home in the evening and sees Indrid’s apartment lit beside his own, still dark one. Indrid is home, next door, and that means things will be okay. 

Duck would have given anything to be in Derricks place. 

“Duck, I need you to come with me and pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Duck should have put some specifications on that statement.

“‘Drid, you full well I can’t lie well enough to pull that off. And ain’t they gonna notice I’m nothin’ like the guy you told ‘em about?”

“I kept everything vague to decrease the chances of them finding something to disapprove of. You won’t need to lie, Duck, please I’ll,” Indrid’s gaze darts around the room, his red glasses sitting on his forehead allowing Duck to enjoy the light brown of his eyes, “I’ll design your next tattoo for free, I’ll pay both our internet bills for a year, I’ll, ah, I’ll-”

“Whoah, whoah, ‘Drid, you ain't got to do anythin like that. We’re friends, we help each other out.”

“So you’ll do it?” Indrid bites the inside of his lip.

“How long would it be?”

“Five days, six if we hit bad weather coming back up here. That wouldn’t take you away from work too long, would it? Or do they expect the part time rangers to cover the holidays?”

“Nah, the center is closed on Christmas. And I’m pretty sure Juno wants a few extra hours anyway. I’ll ask to be sure, but think I oughta be able to get the time off.” He looks back at Indrid’s face. There are bags under his eyes, the result of the semester and graveyard shifts at a coffee shop. His strange, wide smile is tentatively trying to spread across his face. It’s the first time since the break up he’s looked hopeful. 

“Yeah, what the hell, can’t let my friend be lonesome for the holidays.”

Indrid makes a delighted noise, flapping his hands, “Thank you!” He throws his arms around Duck, and Duck returns the hug. Indrid loves his hugs (most people love Duck’s hugs, but Indrid’s opinion tends to take up the most space in his mind). 

He’s doing his friend a favor, and that makes the fact this is a terrible idea worth the risk. And hey, five days paling around with his friend in some fancy seaside town will be fun.

-----------------------------------------------

Juno: You know that’s a terrible idea, right?

Juno: Pretending to date Indrid is going to make for one heartbroken Duck and you know it.

Duck: It’ll be fine

Juno: How long have you had a crush on him again?

Duck: A year. And we stayed friends the whole time because I fucking knew when to keep it to myself. And I can keep keeping it to myself because his friendship means more to me than my fucking dick. 

Juno: ……..

Juno:...... Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you

Duck tosses the phone on the bed as he finishes packing his suitcase. Yes, he’s had a crush on Indrid for awhile. And yes, by the time he realized just how intense the crush was, Indrid was in a relationship that made him happy, and the strength of the crush was overwhelmed by the desire to not make Indrid’s life harder. So Duck kept those feelings to himself, focused on being Indrid’s friend, including putting in a good word on his behalf to their landlord so he could get the little studio apartment next to Duck’s one-bedroom. 

Who knows, maybe spending so much time in close proximity will get rid of the crush….

-------------------------------------

…………….Or it will make it ten times stronger Duck muses during his turn at the wheel. It’s the west coast, so there’s no snow, but rain patters on the windshield as they drive down I-5. Indrid is humming along with the playlist he put on, finishing up the last of the meal they grabbed from  Dairy Queen. He’s been intermittently hand feeding Duck fries so he can keep driving. 

He also does a thing where eagerly and licks the spoon while eating his Blizzard and Duck is afraid he might hit the guard rail if he doesn’t stop staring. 

“How did we meet?” Indrid asks somewhere near Sacramento. 

“Uh, think Dani introduced us, right?”

Indrid nods, “That’s what I thought. We’ll need to have our story straight, but it seems easiest just to describe our relationship as truthfully as possible.”

“You mean we ain’t tellin ‘em we me when I rescued you from an evil goat?”

Indrid “humphs” crossing his arms, “I did not expect to tackled at the petting zoo. But I appreciated the rescue all the same.”

“Thought Aubrey was gonna wet her pants laughin at you.” Duck giggles at the memory of Indrid flat on his back with an extremely hungry goat on top of him.

They run through increasingly ridiculous things to tell Indrids family; that they met on a botched bank robbery, they got trapped in an elevator together, their characters fell in love during a game of D&D and it spread out into their real lives, and so on until Indrid is doubled over with laughter. It would be so easy, feel so natural to reach over and squeeze his hand or stroke his face as they both come down from their giggling fits, but Duck knows better than to trap his friend in a car with unwanted affection.

By the time they reach Carmel, it’s well after ten at night. Indrid drives the last leg, explaining that the house numbers can be tricky to see. They arrive at a stately three story house four blocks from the beach.

“Right.” Indrid sits in the front seat, key in his hand but showing no desire to reach for the door, “here goes nothing.”

They carry their bags up to the house, which is all dark save for the porch light. Once they’re inside, Indrid slips off his shoes, Duck following suit and immediately spotting why.

“Who has this much white carpet?”

“My parents.” Indrid grumbles. 

They tiptoe towards the stairs, and in spite of the fact they’re expected guests, Duck feels like they’re teenagers slipping in after curfew. The bedroom Indrid leads them to is bland.

“My, they really did take it all down.” Indrid sighs, setting his suitcase on the floor.

“This was your room?”

“Yes. I wonder what they did with all the art and posters. I liked a lot of them. And I’d lay money that all of Brad’s sports awards are still up somewhere. They always preferred those to my art.” He sighs as he changes into his pajamas, then slides under the floral bedspread. 

Duck didn’t bring pajamas. He just sleeps in his boxers.

“Um” He points at himself in an attempt to indicate the problem. Indrid goes completely still, looking him up and down.

“It’s alright, Duck. That doesn’t bother me. Come on” he pats the mattress, flipping back the covers, “I’m cold and you’re a spaceheater disguised as a man.”

Duck snorts,settles beside him, “No, you’re just an icicle that got an art degree.”

Indrid barks out a laugh, sets his glasses on the bedside table “Touche. Goodnight, Duck.”

“Night, Drid.”

The light goes out and Duck nestles under the covers. Should he roll over so his back is to Indrid? No, that might seem like he’s hiding something. But rolling towards him could be too much, seem like this is real instead of a trick they’re playing.

“Duck?” Indrid whispers.

“Yeah?” He rolls over, finds Indrid on his side facing him. 

“Thank you. For coming with me. The, the next few days may be a bit awkward.”

“‘Drid, I wasn’t expectin anythin else. Not after eveythin you told me about your folks.”

“I know but, well.” Indrid takes his hand, toying with his fingers, “I’m sorry in  advance for anything they say.  Or do. Or imply. Or-”

“‘Drid.” Duck takes their joined hands, holds them against his chest, “You ain’t gotta apologize to me for shit they might do. I knew what I was gettin into when I agreed to this.”

“Thank you.” Indrid says again. He looks so tired. 

“Go to sleep, icicle.”

Indrid smiles in the darkness, and shuts his eyes. He keeps his hand in Ducks, humming softly when Duck pulls the larger quilt over them. Their hands stay linked as Duck sinks into the pillows and a deep sleep. 

-----------------------------------------------

Indrid towels himself off absentmindedly, eyeing the china-shop decor of his once lovely room. Duck volunteered to venture downstairs in search of coffee for them (Indrid trusts three people to make his coffee sweet enough: himself, his friend Barclay, and Duck). Indrid woke up first this morning, found Ducks head resting against his shoulder. He took his time studying the lines of his face, wondering if Duck would let Indrid draw him. Ideally, nude. 

Maybe asking his friend who he has a raging crush on to join him on his trip was a bad idea. 

He’d realized his feelings for Duck about four months ago. But he was happy with Derrick (well, until the last two months before the break-up, when he’d suddenly gone cold around Indrid), and knew it was common to get crushes on people even when dating someone. Besides, he and Duck were close friends; Duck made him feel safe, didn’t judge him for his quirks, was funny and charming in his own quiet way. So what if he occasionally pictured him while masturbating, imagining what it felt like to kiss him on every inch of his body?

There’d been a temptation to ask Duck out in the days after the break up. But his friend would no doubt assume Indrid was treating him as a rebound, and Duck deserved to feel truly wanted. Now it might be too late. 

The door swings open and Duck shuts it quickly behind him.

“This is a fuckin labyrinth.”

Indrid chuckles, “Couldn’t find the kitchen?”

“No! Thank fuck we got a bathroom attached to this place or I;d go to take a piss and you’d never fuckin see me again.”

“If it’s any consolation, you don’t need to worry about a Minotaur unless my brother is up.”

A silver bell rings and blinks, “Does your family use a fuckin dinner bell?”

“Yes.” Indrid finishes dressing as Duck checks his hair in the mirror, “and it means it’s time to face the family.” He holds out his hand, “stay close; I’d hate to lose you in the maze.” 

Duck hesitates, then grabs his hand, and they head downstairs. 

His parents and brother beat them there.

“Is that really what you’re wearing out today?” His mother asks when they appear. 

“Hello to you as well.” He and Duck sit side by side, and he only relinquishes Ducks hand in order to pass dishes. 

“So,” His father eyes Duck, the scrutiny in the gaze making Indrid wince automatically, “you’re Indrid’s boyfriend.”

“Yep. Name’s Duck, and it’s real nice to meet y’all.”

Brad, his brother, snorts, “Duck?”

“It’s a nickname, oh, thanks darlin.” He smiles when Indrid hands him a cup of coffee. 

“Indrid says you’re interested in...environmental science, yes?” His father continues. 

“More or less. Done a lot of work in forestry and botany and such. Goal is to be a full time ranger in a national park or somethin.”

“I don’t know why we even have those; why the fuck are we preserving a bunch of trees when that land could help enrich the economy.”

“Shut up, Brad.” Indrid glares. 

“Indrid, manners. Besides, your brother has a point. All that land could be a boon for mining and development,”

“With all due respect, uh, Mr.Cold, public lands are one of the best ideas we’ve had as a country. And they bring in lots of money to places that wouldn’t get it otherwise. Hell, back home in Kepler, most of the money comes from tourists visitin the national forest.” Duck chews his eggs thoughtfully, “Plus, screwin nature only comes back to bite us in the end.”

“At least it’s a degree that has a potential job that comes after it.” His mother stares pointedly at him and Indrid groans.

The rest of breakfast goes much the same, and Indrid pulls Duck from the table as soon as he’s done eating. 

“Right, that was awful.” Indrid sinks onto his bed. 

“And you didn’t eat anythin.”

“I had toast.” Indrid snips back. 

“One piece. Come on, darlin, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my sweetheart starve?” Duck catches the pet names this time, coughs, “sorry, figured better to keep up the game in the house, in case someone can hear us.”

Right, of course. Duck’s being practical. He doesn’t really think of Indrid as his darling. 

“There somewhere in town you like?” Duck settles beside him, voice gentle, “It’s okay if there ain’t. Can even brave the labyrinth and grab you leftovers if you need me to.”

Indrid meets his eyes, and gingerly rests his head on his shoulder, “Well, there is one place…”

------------------------------------------------------------

The outdoor mall is obscenely cheery, Christmas trees covered in shiny baubles and carols blasting from storefronts. Signs tout the perfect gift for that special someone, and Duck imagines himself wandering from salesperson to salesperson until he finds the thing that could show Indrid just how much he cares about him.

After a leisurely breakfast in a tiny, scruffy cafe (indeed, the only scruffy store amidst the pristine, wealth soaked chains and boutiques) in which Indrid scarfed two cinnamon rolls the size of his head, they wander arm in arm, window shopping and people watching. Indrid relaxes incrementally, and keeps casting strange, affectionate glances Ducks way. 

In spite of the chilly weather, they opt to go to the beach, finding it mostly deserted. Indrid shows him a patch of tidepools, and proceeds to ask a dozen questions about what he’s seeing. Duck does his best, though ocean life isn’t his specialty. 

“Oooh, hello little friend.” Indrid is on his stomach, leaning over one of the pools with a hermit crab in his hand, “your shell is so pretty.”

“Uh, ‘Drid, you might wanna keep an eye on that-”

Splash

“Wave.” Duck tries not to laugh at his friend, who now looks like a surprised, damp cat. 

“Oh dear.” Indrid looks at his soaked top half and shudders, “that is going to be unpleasant to walk home in.” 

“Here, take those off.” Duck unzips and doffs his jacket, unbuttons his green shirt and hands it to the taller man, “That oughta help until we get back.”

Indrid, skinny and shivering, takes the shirt and slips it on. His fingers fumble and Duck steps forward and begins buttoning it for him. 

“You don’t-” Indrid starts

“I want to” Duck finishes. When he buttons the last one, he looks up and finds their noses nearly brushing. 

“We should head back.” Indrid murmurs.

“Yeah.” Duck drops his gaze, taking a step back, “lead the way, darlin.”

Indrid hops off the rock onto the sand, offering his hand to Duck so he can do the same. Duck supposes they don’t need to hold hands on the empty beach. 

They end up holding them all the way back to the house. 

------------------------

It all comes to a head at dinner the next night. 

“This is low even for you, bro.” Brad grins.

Indrid rolls his eyes, “What is?”

“Bringing a fake boyfriend because your skinny ass got dumped.”

The little bit Indrid’s eaten threatens to come back up. Duck is still, save for the chewing on the inside of his lip.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Indrid responds coolly. 

“Friend of a friend on Insta said in a group text that he knows your ex.” Brad looks over at their mother, “Apparently Indrid is too stupid to know when he’s being strung along, and too much of a dud to actually keep the guy.”

“In that case” His father turns to Duck, “how did you end up involved in this?”

“Probably paid him.” Brad sips his beer and Indrid growls. 

“Actually” Duck says quietly, “I came because Indrid asked me to. Couldn’t say no to the most amazin guy I know. Indrid’s perfect and Derrick was shitty to him. Just cause we ain’t had time to put a label on things don’t mean I ain’t crazy about him. And for your information” he stares down Brad, “that ‘skinny ass’ is the nicest lookin ass on the entire coast, and you are the shittiest siblin’ I’ve ever had the displeasure of meetin’.”

“How dare you?” His mother hisses and Indrid takes that opportunity to bolt, certain Duck will follow him. As he’s halfway up the stairs he hears Duck drawl, “Mom always said money can’t buy class. Thanks for the real-time demonstration.”

By the time his friend enters the bedroom, Indrid is huddled on the bed, trying not to cry. 

“Shit, ‘Drid, I’m sorry, that was outta line of me but I can’t, I couldn’t sit there and let ‘em talk to you like that. I know you got your reasons for not speakin up, but you don’t deserve to have no one takin your side.”

“It’s not that. I can’t, Duck, how could you say those things knowing full well we aren’t together? Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to believe you feel that way about me? That’s the most loved I’ve felt in months and I know it was a lie.” He buries his face in his hands, glasses denting his skin. 

“Hey, goofus.” Duck nudges him until he looks up, “you’re forgettin the part where I can’t lie.”

The gears of the world grind to a halt, and in a frozen moment in time Indrid processes a dozen realizations at once.

“You do like me.” He whispers. 

“No shit, darlin. Indrid, I’ve been into you for months, but I didn’t wanna push you away by tellin you and makin’ you uncomfortable. I meant every goddamn word, and that all barely scratches the surface of how bad I want youMOphhhm.”

Kissing Duck is a hundred times better than he ever imagined, the two of them tangled up before they even fall fully backwards. Warm fingers tangle in his hair and Duck whimpers beneath him, arching frantically into Indrids touch.

“Fuck me.” Duck pants when Indrid lets him breathe. 

“Not here. I, I think we should go somewhere else, leave early. They don’t want me here, not really, we could go home, rent a hotel room, anything, Duck, goodness please let’s get out of here.”

“It was an exclamation goofus, this room is a boner killer if there ever was one. But yeah, gettin gone sounds real fuckin good to me. I’ll let you take the lead, sugar.”

“You promise?”

Duck kisses his nose, “Wherever you wanna go, darlin. I’ll be right there next to you. I promise.”

[honeymoonjin]

A/N: a request for ot7 angst. Reader goes to surprise the boys during a concert only to realize they don’t have time for her. 1.7k. Special shout-out to my best girl @jeonau for this gorgeous banner xx

“It’s just that they’re in the middle of sound check, Y/n, it’s not a good time. Maybe if you arrived earlier…”

You nod at the bodyguard, a bulky guy that looked intimidating, but one you knew to be a genuinely kind soul. Smiling tightly to fight back tears, you shift your weight awkwardly. “I tried, that’s the thing. The stopover was delayed four hours, I was supposed to be here earlier this morning. Please, I’ll be quick, Seok-woo.”

You can’t help but notice the way he adjusts his stance like he’s preparing for you to try and push past him and break into the backstage area. Biceps flexing, he crosses his arms. “It’s not a good time,” he says again, “I’m sorry. Listen, I’ll call up the hotel for an extra room, and we can book you a flight in the morning. Did you even check with Sejin before doing this?”

You breathe out shakily, feeling the sick mass of disappointment rolling around your stomach. Fuck, you seriously didn’t want to cry in front of him. “It was meant to be a surprise! If everything went fine, I would’ve been here already, but I got to the stopover and the flight was delayed and it was too late to turn around and go back. I thought you guys would at least let me see them.” You sniff and curse the way it echoes in the concrete halls. “Have you at least told them I’m here?”

Seok-woo gives you a sad smile, and wordlessly reaches into a fanny pack to bring out a travel pack of tissues. When you make no move to take them, he sighs and lets his arm drop down to his side. “Y/n, they’re busy and they’re focused right now. We can’t be giving them a distraction right before the biggest stage of their lives.”

His face changes the moment he finishes his sentence, a stricken look at his poor choice of words, but you’re already stalking away from him angrily, feet thumping harder at the floor than necessary. He calls out to you, not that you listen. A fucking distraction. That’s what you were.

An hour passing finds you at the back of the stage end of the venue, shivering slightly although the sun is blazing in a clear sky. “Could I at least get a ticket for the show? I’ll even pay.”

“It’s sold out, Y/n, you know that. There’s not a single seat free in the whole venue. Hell, we’ve already broken out the additional temporary seating and that’s full too.”

You cradle the phone to your ear, hearing the familiar soothing drawl of Sejin. Dating the boys certainly meant that you had come into contact with their manager on many occasions, and you liked to think that the two of you had some Hollywood-like, unlikely-friendship kind of bond. Many a time you’d quite happily spend hours chatting with him while waiting for your boyfriends to finish up with a shoot or recording session. “Okay, maybe I could just wait in their dressing room. You don’t have to even tell them I’m here; I’d wait until they left and then slip in.”

A patient sigh. “I think it’s better if they rest up after the concert. They’ll want to do a v-live, no doubt, or at least some of them will, but after that I want them getting a good night’s sleep.”

You frown, chewing on the corner of your nail as you try to contain your worry. “But don’t you think they’d sleep better if I was with them? Tae-tae always tells me he doesn’t sleep well when I’m not there. So, it would be better for everyone if-”

“This isn’t up for negotiation, Y/n.” Sejin’s voice is firm, and the realization that you might really not get to see your boys makes tears spring to your eyes again.

“Tell me what I have to do, Sejin. Where do I have to go, how long do I have to wait? I’ll do anything if it means I get to see them.”

He pauses, the line so still that for a moment you wonder if he’s hung up on you. “Hang around the venue,” he answers finally in a strained voice, “I’ll see what I can do.” You exhale in a rush, ready to thank him, but he’s not done. “But no promises,” he warns quickly, “if I call you back and it’s a no, then it’s a no, Y/n. Okay? I’ve got to go, goodbye.”

You mumble a reply and slump down on the bench, gathering the will to go back inside and find a good spot to curl up for a few hours. Part of you wants to message one of them, even though you know they have a strict phones-off policy during sound check. Even so, you find yourself on your phone, hovering your fingers over the group chat.

This wasn’t just a random, spontaneous visit. You wanted to surprise them not with just your presence. The last time you had seen them was before they flew over to the U.S., and the eight of you had basically been in bed for a solid week. Apparently, something during that had taken a hold because now, just over a month later, you were sitting here with a photo of a positive pregnancy stick on your phone, resisting the urge to send it to them.

Perhaps this was why you felt like you had been on the verge of tears for the past twelve hours. You weren’t scared; if anything, you’d be overjoyed right about now, only that you missed them so fucking much, felt their absence like a physical void inside you, and you couldn’t think about anything but being with them.

With a pained sigh, you close out of the group chat thread. If there was one thing you were determined about, it was that you wanted to tell them in person. See the looks on their faces when they realized they were going to be parents.

It would be a logistical nightmare, perhaps. You hoped they didn’t get to hung up on who was the biological father. And part of you was scared for what would happen once the baby started growing up. How could a child possibly comprehend having eight parents when most children had two? But then you would think of the way Jimin was so gentle with that cat on his music video shoot, and the way Yoongi was so sweet to the younger fans at fan meets, and all the ways all of the men you loved would be amazing, caring dads, and that fear slipped into the background.

You had spent enough time on those two long flights to ponder what their reactions looked like. As you made your way back inside, winding through all the staff halls, looking for a relatively empty room, you imagined how it would be with each one of them.

The man you started dating first, Hoseok, would have a smile so big his cheeks would hurt, happier than ever as he exclaimed, “really?” He was always known as the loudest guy in the room, but whenever he got truly great news, he would quieten down out of shock. You couldn’t wait to see the disbelieving joy on his face.

Namjoon would probably hold you by the waist and squint at your stomach, trying to come to terms with the fact that there was life in there. Taehyung would get super sappy and wouldn’t take his eyes off you all night, Yoongi would poke fun in the way that meant he really cared, Jin’s eyes bright and glistening as he silently held back tears. Jungkook would laugh loudly, the sound of his glee carrying over the congratulations of all the other men, and Jimin would be openly crying before you had even finished your sentence.

You smiled bitterly, finally managing to locate a relatively small room that had a few dusty boxes of black plastic stage equipment, a broken concession stand sign leaning against the wall, and a broomstick. Figuring there wouldn’t be a huge demand for this space, you let yourself sink down the wall and onto the carpeted floor, worn thin over time.

You wasted away hours, hearing the thrumming of the sound check and eventually the concert through the walls. With nothing to do, and not wanting to use up all the battery on your phone, your mind unraveled, latching onto a million and one images of what life would be like over the coming months. Doctor’s appointments, picking out baby clothes, setting up a nursery in the dorm.

You knew it was foolish to feel this miserable, that it was probably just your sudden imbalance of hormones sending you spiraling, but it felt unbelievably painful to be so close yet so far from them.

They were out there, having the time of their lives, no doubt sure that you were chilling back at the dorm in Seoul, rather than holed up in a musty glorified closet. A vibration on your stomach jolts you out of your moping, and you pull your phone out of your pocket. A text from Sejin. Where are you now?

Heart racing, you jump up and rush out of the room, rushing down the hallway. I’ll come down to the dressing room now.

You can feel a vibrant motion in the air, the concrete ceilings almost vibrating as the noise above heightens with the fireworks that came at the end of the show. You had nothing to worry about, you reasoned, that whole time you were fine. Now, you could go see your boys, and tell them the great news after a concert well done, and then spend the night entangled with them, skin on skin on skin. Everything was fi-

Go to the staff entrance. Min-su is escorting you to the airport. Flight leaves in just under two hours.

You recoil physically from the screen in your hand, step faltering, sending your shoulder crashing into the wall. He was sending you home? After all that, you weren’t allowed to see them?

Another text. Only two more concerts left, Y/n. Just be patient. They don’t need you here right now.

Eyes stinging viciously, you push off the wall and carry on, trying to blink hard enough to will the tears away. That always seemed to be the problem. They didn’t need you. But you needed them.

[c-hristy]

Rehabilitation - Part 3 of ‘Addicted’ 《Charlastor AU》

    She felt cornered and ducked back into her room, trying her best to shut the door behind her. A familiar tentacle shot forward and grabbed onto the door, nearly pulling it off its hinges. Bea let out a squeak as Alastor came into the room, her climbing up onto her bed and put a pillow in front of her.

    “Beatrice,” His voice was light and airy and yet she could still feel the static in the air, “What is going on?”

    “Nothin,’ daddy, just some stuff between me and Mags. You don’t have to worry about it!” Her eyes widened and she tried her best to smile at him, “We can figure it out.” His smile twisted brighter and his head tilted and she knew she was in for the long haul if she didn’t just fess up right then and there. Bea held her hands out, motioning toward the mattress, “Alright! Damn! Sit down, I’ll explain it.”

    “Wise decision, honeybee.” Alastor sat on the edge of the bed in a flourish of sigils that disappeared as soon as the radio dials did.

    Bea sighed, running her hands through her hair and leaning back against the headboard, “Okay, so a few weeks ago, Vox and I were just watching some videos on his phone. He got up to grab his charger since he was running low -”

    “A charger for his phone?” Alastor interrupted.

    “No, a charger for him. Vox doesn’t eat, he has to charge,” Bea waved her hand to change the subject, “Nevermind on that. But he got up to go get it and then he got a text from Valentino asking where ‘the girl’ was. I was nosy,” Bea shrugged sheepishly, “And read the rest of the messages. He was demanding the radio demon’s daughter - they’d apparently made some sort of deal and Vox’s whole plan was to entrap me so that I would well -” She shifted uncomfortably, “Fuck either him or Valentino.”

    Alastor’s face remained composed, even though she could see the burning fury starting to build in his eyes. The pupils began to take on faint dial shape and she crawled down the bed, placing a hand on his forearm.

    “So I left him. I didn’t want to do that - be involved in that and it really hurt me, so I ended up telling Mags.” Bea shrugged then, her face twisting into something that was akin to the look in his eyes, “And so she did it. To complete the deal for my sake, I guess. I didn’t want her to! I didn’t ask her to!”

    They both heard a faint noise come from the hallway and both of their ears flicked toward the sound. 

    “Margret Grace Magne!”

    Bea’s face paled, “Ah, shit.”

    Charlie’s face was about as red as her cheeks as she burst through her eldest daughter’s bedroom door. She flipped on the light and zeroed in on Maggie, who was just freshly showered and now huddled under her blankets. Her phone was in her hand and from where Charlie was, it looked like she was scrolling through a book.

    “How can you be so calm right now?” Charlie’s voice was sharp as she walked closer to the bed, a touch of magic swirling around her head and forming the horns that she so very much tried her best to hide.

    “I’m not,” Margret gave a weak smile, setting her phone down, “I’m really not. I’m just a really good actress.”

   

She was just faking it - she had to be faking it - he couldn’t possibly feel good -

    Charlie’s eyes burned red and Margret pushed her blanket down her body, shivering slightly at the feeling of not being encased in her own safety. Her mother morphed in front of her - no longer was she shorter than Maggie - she was taller and her horns were fully stretched, eyes a bloody red.

    “He will pay for this -”

    “Mama! I made the choice - not him.” She scrambled off the bed and stood in front of Charlie, eyes wide, “Please don’t!”

    Charlie stared down at her daughter, gritting her teeth, “He shouldn’t have decided to mess with my children in the first place.”

    Margret couldn’t move out of the way fast enough and was nearly tossed to the side by her own mother as Charlie made her way through the estate. Alastor and Bea witnessed her storming out and Al nearly made the attempt to follow her; Bea gripped onto his arm before he could.

    “This is her battle. Let mama do it.” He looked down at Bea; his daughter’s one eye was faintly glowing with a dial and the other was halfway gone into its sclera, “She knows what she has to do.”

    Margret followed Charlie through the estate and down to the entryway. Franklin was just leaving the kitchen, a bag of chips in hand as he watched his fully formed demoness mother race from the house with Maggie hot on her heels. His eyes glowed brightly for a second and he tossed the chips down, sending a shadow to his room to grab his camera - this was going to need to be broadcasted.

    Charlie was focused on one place in particular - the studio. She knew that Valentino would still be there. Where else would be be, after fucking her daughter? The thought settled more burning rage into her mind as she ripped open the door that led into the studio.

    The receptionist barely had a moment to speak before Charlie whirled on her heel, turning to her daughter, “Where is he?”

    “Penthouse.” Margret murmured, pointing toward the elevator that was off on the right, “The right one.”

    Charlie didn’t pay the receptionist any mind as she turned and marched toward the elevator, waiting until it came to the bottom before pressing the button that would lead to the top. It dinged that she needed a passcode - her eyes snapped up to the demoness at the desk.

    “Passcode,” Charlie growled, feeling Margret shift to get onto the elevator with her.

    The demoness squeaked out a series of four numbers and Charlie typed them in, the elevator closing and the pair being shot upward to the penthouse. 

    “Mama, please, don’t.” Margret tugged on her mother’s shirt, eyes wide, “Don’t do this.”

    “I will protect my children. No one will mess with you. Any of you.” Charlie turned to look at Maggie, her hand reaching up and smoothing back her daughter’s ears, “You’re my daughter, Maggie. As your mom, I’ve gotta do what’s right.”

    “Mama, I don’t want you to hurt him, it goes against everything -”

    The elevator dinged.

    “So be it, sweetheart.” Charlie smiled weakly, the bloody red to her sclera diminishing into a soft yellow for a moment, “He hurt you, then I’ll hurt him.”

    Margret frantically reached out, “No, he didn’t hurt me! He was gentle and it wasn’t -” She shuddered, face paling, “It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t bad and I hate that. But he didn’t hurt me. We made a deal and it’s airtight.”

    “Tell me about the deal,” Charlie and Maggie stepped out into the hallway so that the elevator could head back down to the ground floor - it wasn’t like the demoness at the desk could call any sort of police to remove Charlie and Margret.

    “I’d do it with him once and he could record it but he’s not allowed to broadcast or show it to anyone. He can only have the one original copy and that’s it - it’s on an SD card that I watched him upload it to.” Maggie’s breath shook funnily, “It’s a solid deal and nothing will happen.”

    For a moment, Charlie wanted to believe her eldest. To just take her and leave; head home. Make dinner and pretend like everything was normal. After that moment, however, she shook her head, the red replacing yellow in a rapid fire as she pulled away from Margret and stormed down the hall to the doorway that was on the right. 

    She thought it polite to knock so she did the opposite and tore the door off its hinges. Charlie stepped inside, growling slightly at the form of Valentino, who was previously just resting on his sofa, now shot up and staring at the Princess of Hell.

    Her face widened in a grin, “You hurt my daughter.”

    Valentino’s face matched hers, his grin much more easygoing, “You can’t hurt me.”

    “Says who?” Charlie’s grin grew wider, “I could tear you limb from limb.”

    “The deal that she and I made protects me from -”

    “It doesn’t protect you from anything.” Margret spoke up from the doorframe, gripping tightly onto her sleeves, “I told you I had protective sigils but I forgot about them when making the actual deal. I wrote them on my hand but I still forgot. You’re not protected from anything.”

    His gaze narrowed and the grin diminished, turning into a sneer, “You bitch -”

    He lunged forward at the same time as Charlie. The blonde quickly gathered the upper hand - she was still eons older than Valentino and so much stronger than him. Margret watched with saddened eyes as Charlie and Valentino fought on the ground, her mother’s claws digging into Valentino’s flesh and her teeth mere inches away from his throat.

    “Mama, don’t kill him!” Margret watched in horror as Charlie got closer to ripping his jugular out, “Don’t!”

    “She can’t kill me - she’s no angel,” Valentino growled, trying his best to push his hand out of her grip so that he could try to fight her off him.

    “My father was an angel,” Charlie’s face twisted, her eyes bright as she wrapped her one hand around his throat, “Did you forget about that?”

    Margret watched as horror fled across Valentino’s face - and then watched her mother rip her way through his chest and violently pull his heart out.

    “I think this will teach you to stay away from my daughters,” Charlie hissed, squeezing the heart. Valentino gave a pathetic whine, “Do I make myself clear?”

    Before he could respond, Charlie sharply pulled the heart away from his chest and Margret closed her eyes so that she wouldn’t have to watch. She heard some shuffling and then she peered her eyes open, doing her best to avoid the mess of a still gargling Valentino on the now stained carpet.

    “Where did he put the SD card?” Charlie asked Margret, hands on her hips. She no longer wore her horns and Margret felt shame worrying its way into her stomach.

    “In the drawer,” She pointed to the nightstand by the couch, “I can’t destroy it. In the deal -”

    “Maybe you can’t,” Charlie pulled open the drawer and rifled around, pulling out a small SD card, “But I sure can.”

    Margret watched as Charlie shredded the small piece of computer storage in her fingers and then tossed the remnants onto Valentino. The healing process would not be fun for him - Margret knew that growing a new heart wouldn’t be fun.

    Charlie stepped over him on her way out, not even bothering him a second glance. She took a deep breath and looked up at Margret, now returned to her normal height.

    “It’s going to be okay. Nothing else should come of this - he should have learned now! Don’t worry.” Charlie reached out for Margret and the taller blonde flinched away from the sight of her mother covered in blood.

    “Yeah. It’s going to be okay.” Margret murmured, giving Valentino one last look before the pair headed back toward the elevator. 

    Franklin peered out from behind a potted plant in the hallway, grinning. The camera had recorded it all - he turned it off and set it in his pocket before entering the apartment. 

    He leered over Valentino, the severely wounded demon glaring pathetically up at the maniacally grinning blond. Frankie held his hand out and crouched, tightly gripping Valentino’s hand and shaking it forcefully.

    “You just got dunked on!” Frankie cackled and then dropped his hand, leaving a bruising kick to Valentino’s side before making his way out of the apartment, the feet of his unicorn onesie now stained with blood.

[thelanguageoflovers]

Little White Lies - Chapter 7

TW: This chapter deals super closely with past abuse/trauma

"Cyrus I-" "I'm so sorry, I know it's way too personal. I tried to write something more generic, but Mrs. Bailey wouldn't let me do that so I had to get personal and I'm so sorry," Cyrus interrupted. "No, Cyrus, it- it's beautiful. Thank you," TJ said, wrapping his arms around Cyrus and pulling him into a hug. "Do you- do you wanna come over today? Our time to work kinda got cut short because you had to rewrite this." "Oh! Yeah, I'd like that. Let me just text my dad and go drop off my books in my locker? I'll meet you at your locker." "Sounds good," TJ said, starting out the door. Cyrus followed him, but they turned in opposite directions upon exiting the classroom. TJ turned around a few paces down the hall, a grin on his face as he called out to Cyrus. "Oh, and Underdog?" "Yeah?" Cyrus turned around, meeting his eyes with a smile. "I'm pretty sure you're dyeing me pink." "What?" Pink? Cyrus was dyeing him pink? What the hell did that mean? TJ merely smiled that stupidly perfect smile of his and started to leave. "You'll figure it out. See you in a few!" Cyrus smiled in spite of himself as he walked down the hall, a blush crawling up his neck as he remembered the way TJ had smiled at him, like Cyrus held the world in his eyes. "Hey, Cyrus!" Andi said, jogging up to him as Cyrus fished his phone from his pocket. "Andi!" Cyrus exclaimed, quickly texting his dad to tell him he was hanging out with TJ. "I feel like it's been forever since we hung out," Andi said sadly. "Can we today?" "Oh, I'm sorry! I have plans with TJ," Cyrus apologized. "Soon though, I promise." "Okay," Andi nodded. "How about I call you tonight? We can go for late night milkshakes at the Spoon?" "Sounds perfect. With Buffy?" "She's got a sleepover with the team tonight. The three of us can hang out this weekend, maybe?" Andi offered. Cyrus nodded with a grin, hugging her goodbye. "I've missed you two." "We've missed you more, Cy," Andi promised. "Oh my God! I forgot to tell you!" "What?" Cyrus asked, clearly worried. "No, no it's good. TJ and I ran into each other at the supermarket this morning. He told me to tell Amber how I feel." "Did you take his advice?" Cyrus asked excitedly, nearly bouncing on his toes as he put his books in his locker. "Not yet, not yet. But soon, maybe? I don't know, it's all so...scary." "It'll be great, A," Cyrus said, hugging her again. "Oh, I've got something to tell you too! I've gotta go, though." "What?! No, tell me!" "I want to think some more about it, kind of figure it out? I don't really even know what it meant yet," Cyrus said sheepishly, thinking to TJ's comment about dyeing him pink. "Ugh, alright, I'll call you tonight!" "You'd better," Cyrus laughed, ruffling Andi's hair as he passed her. He turned the corner, his feet hitting the floor the only noise in the hall as he walked. "There you are, Underdog! Ready to go?" TJ asked, leaning against his locker next to Amber. "Yup! Sorry, I ran into Andi. We had some...things to catch up on." Amber immediately glanced up upon hearing Andi's name, grinning at the mention of her friend. "Like what?" she asked, doing her best to maintain a straight face. "Best friend things," Cyrus chastised with a chuckle, shaking his head at Amber's clear feelings for Andi. "C'mon, let's get going," TJ said, tugging Cyrus and Amber toward the exit. "We stay here any longer, we're going to be given a damn mop and asked to cover for the night janitor." "Alright alright, we're going," Amber laughed, letting TJ push her down the hall.

They stepped into the warm September air, the sun pouring over them like water from a faucet. TJ glanced down at Cyrus, whose soft, dark eyes had melted into pools of molasses under the light. His glance morphed into a lingering gaze, but he was snapped from his musings by a sharp pain as Amber pinched his wrist. TJ swatted her hand away, mouthing a silent 'not now' as they walked. 'Then when?' Amber mouthed back, earning a vaguely gestured 'shut up' and a flick to the head as they turned onto the Kippens' street. Amber smiled and raised a knowing eyebrow, stepping forward to walk in front of the pair. They walked encased in a comfortable silence for a few moments, before turning up their driveway. Amber opened the door, only to slam it shut again. "Ambs? What's wrong?" TJ asked, rushing forward to rest a hand on Amber's shoulder. "Nothing," she said, taking a deep breath and shaking her head. "Hand just slipped." "...Okay?" TJ said, pulling the heavy front door open. "Oh." "What? What's happening?" Cyrus asked, stepping forward. Over TJ's shoulder, someone Cyrus had never seen before was sitting at the kitchen table. He seemed to be perfectly normal, dressed in jeans and a gray T-shirt, and the spitting image of TJ. Connecting dots one by one, Cyrus understood what was happening. "Cyrus, I- we can't hang out today, sorry. You should, um...You should go home." "TJ, I-" "Cyrus, go. Seriously." TJ interrupted. "But-" "Cyrus, just go home! God, do you ever just let it go? I don't need your help, Cyrus." Cyrus recoiled slightly, eyes falling to the ground. "TJ I just want to-" "STOP IT. You can't help us!" TJ roared, marching toward Cyrus, who merely walked backward in time with his footsteps. "Not if you don't fucking let me!" The curse felt awkward tumbling from his mouth, but it didn't matter. Not now. Not with TJ staring at him with tears welling in his eyes. "Listen to me, Cyrus. I know you don't get it because you live in two huge white houses and have more money than you know what to do with. You have four perfect, loving parents, and two best friends who'd kill for you. You get perfect grades. You have perfect clothes. "You can afford to not have to cover the electricity bill or the groceries every few months just to keep food on the table and a roof over your fucking family's heads. You never have to wonder where your next meal is going to come from, or if you can afford to miss another day of school to go to work. You never have to skip out on getting antidepressants just because your health insurance doesn't cover them and your family can't pay it out of pocket. Your life is perfect, and you don't have to lift a finger for it. "But mine isn't, Cyrus. I have one functional parent and one sister. I used to have two, but guess what? ONE'S DEAD. Amber, my mom and I fight and work every fucking day just to keep the lights on and the water running. "So I am sorry if you don't get to play the savior this time, Cyrus. I'm sorry if my life doesn't make you happy or satisfy your stupid fucking need to save every person you meet, but you don't get to fix me. Just go home." "I- I'm sorry," Cyrus said, pushing tears out of his eyes as he turned and rushed down the walkway and out of the neighborhood. "GodDAMNIT!" TJ yelled, kicking the railing on their porch as he watched Cyrus leave. "TJ," Amber said quietly, one hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." "It's fine, Amber," TJ snapped, turning and pushing back through the front door.

Cyrus walked into his house with a sigh, dropping his keys on the table by the door. "Hey, kiddo," his dad said, stepping into the foyer to hug his son. "I thought you were hanging out with TJ." "I realized I have homework," Cyrus mumbled, eyes on the ground. His words were clipped, but somehow managed to bleed into one another like black and gray watercolors across a bright canvas. He pushed past his dad and started up the stairs. His footsteps, weighted with sadness and concern for TJ, fell heavily against the warm carpet beneath his toes. Ignoring his dad's worried knocking on his bedroom door, he pulled his laptop from his bag and plugged his earbuds into his phone. He fell onto his bed, the soft melody floating through his earbuds calming him slightly, and pushed his laptop open. As he opened Google Chrome, some of the residual worry for TJ that had settled into his very bones began to fall away, replaced with implacable determination. He quickly typed 'color pink meaning' into his search bar, scrolling through the results with languid interest, not really believing he'd find what he was looking for on the first try. However, as it turns out, TJ was very bad at leaving breadcrumbs. He'd instead opted to give Cyrus the whole loaf of bread, thus making his search infinitely easier. Cyrus found what he needed as soon as he started to pay attention to the links he was passing. Several connected pink to little girls and femininity, but neither concerned to Cyrus, as he was very sure he hadn't turned TJ into a little girl. What did stick out to him was the overwhelming consensus that the entirety of the internet had seemed to decide upon. Pink meant love. Apparently, pink was the color of falling asleep next to someone, of intertwined hands and smiling into kisses. It was the color of falling in love with someone before you were entirely finished falling in love with the way they walk down the hall. Pink was the color of the blush that fell upon his cheeks whenever TJ smiled at him. Cyrus Goodman was in love with TJ Kippen. He was in love with the boy who wanted nothing to do with him.

"What are you doing here?" TJ asked, closing the door behind him and moving to stand slightly in front of Amber, taking her hand. "What, you didn't miss me?" Vincent asked, standing from his chair. "No, we really didn't," Amber said, fighting to even her voice. Behind TJ's back, she silently texted their mom the most definite message she could write fast enough. Dad's back.

Jennifer rushed into the house as something shattered, most likely a picture frame.

"Vince! What the fuck are you doing here?" she asked, quickly pushing Amber and TJ toward their rooms. "I have a restraining order out on you, you know that." "I'm here to see my kids," Vince said with a shrug that sent a frightened chill down Jennifer's back. "No the hell you're not," she responded, pulling her phone from her bag and dialing 911. "What do you think you're doing?!" She quickly detailed what was happening and where they were to the operator, who told her help was on the way. "You'll regret that, Jen." "Oh no, I won't." Jennifer looked up at him, ignoring the voice in her head screaming to run, her eyes narrow. "You listen to me this time. You are not going to lay a hand on my children or come near us ever again." She kept talking until she could hear sirens, at which point Vincent finally tipped over the boiling point.

"Hey, kiddos," Jennifer said quietly, opening TJ's door. "Are you two okay?" "I-I don't know," TJ stammered, one arm around Amber, who was crying, the heels of her palms continuously shoving tears away. "I'll take that as a no," she said, closing the door behind her and sitting on the end of TJ's bed. "What happened?" "He was here when we got home from school, so I sent Cyrus home." "Cyrus was here?" "Yeah, we were going to work on our project for health class. I made him go home, because I didn't want him to get hurt," TJ mumbled. "But I think I might have hurt him in the process." "I'll be back to that later. Did Vince hurt you two?" "N-no," Amber stuttered. "I thought he would, but he just broke a picture frame of you, me, TJ, and Molly." "I'll get a new one," Jennifer promised. "What did he even want?" TJ asked, silently handing Amber a box of tissues. "Said he wanted to raise his own kids," Jennifer mumbled with a shrug. "That's not fair! He broke us, he doesn't get to put us back together again!" Amber yelled, anger seeping into her tears. "I know, kiddo. I said the same thing. Listen, how about I go clean up and make some food? You two probably have a lot of homework after your first day, huh?" As Amber and TJ nodded, Jennifer smiled slightly, standing and leaving the room. She let the door shut behind her with a gentle click, sighing as she walked down the hall. On the kitchen floor next to the fridge lay a shatter picture frame. The wood was splintered, the glass fractured into tiny pieces and spread around the frame. She crouched near the mess, reaching forward to gently pull the still intact photo from the debris. Sighing, she set it on the counter and turned to sweep the glass and wood into a dustpan. When she dumped it into the garbage, she paused to look around their house. She'd fought for years to obtain the life they led, but she knew damn well it wasn't all it was supposed to be. Her kids were her life, but was this life enough for them?

[diningpageantry]

Drunk Text

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215168/chapters/43179500

Chapter 4/10 of It’s A Handheld Disaster

Word Count: 2002

Chapter Summary: Baz's friends get him a little drunk, which scares Simon half to death. Cue nervous spamming, best friend's advice, and a single picture.

BAZ

(strings_n_roses): gods.mistake: i dont know i guess im just scared of losing her family's attention???

My eyes scan over his text in the drop down, thumb pressing onto the screen to keep it half-showing. It's probably not a good idea to be talking to him about this right at this second, but I don't want him to feel abandoned (especially given our topic). The tiny graphic of the Instagram logo looms in the forefront of my mind even after I close my phone, thinking of a response.

A hard lemonade bottle rolls and rests against my thigh, making me look up at Dev as he pops open another. Despite calling them a “Gay drink”, he's already gone through two of them.

“Oy, you've barely had shit,” he says, twisting off the top of his third as he eyes my one half-empty bottle.

“Yeah,” Niall adds, eyebrows narrowing as he lifts his own drink. He bought an even shittier wine cooler. “Loosen up a little, you wound up dick.”

Reluctantly, I bring my bottle to my lips and swing, maintaining eye constant with Niall. Even with a weird shiver in a response, he doesn't look away. Neither do I--not until the bottle is finished. With a pop of my lips, I lower the glass and smirk. “There--happy?”

“I… guess?” He says slowly. “You okay, mate? What's wrong?”

What's wrong? What's wrong? Snow's texting me from his bathroom, too tired from crying to get off the tile, and I can't help him in any other way than to talk to him. That's what's wrong. “It's nothing. Just shit. That's all.”

Dev's foot nudges mine, making me disconcerted with their mutual care for my emotions. Usually, they just let me sulk, but tonight… tonight's odd. They're boozing me up and getting me to talk (for once).

I turn my head head away, looking towards the long, creaking window of mine. It nearly brushes the floor, and looks out upon the broad, rise and fall of our garden. The winter season leaves it beyond chilling.

“Can you open that?” I ask, voice tired as I nod towards my cousin. He blinks at me at first before rising to his feet and drawing it open. With a hand on my bed frame, I haul myself upright and onto my feet before digging through my nightstand. In the back lies a pack of cigs and a lighter I snagged from Aunt Fi's flat.

Only Dev takes one when I offer, seating myself right on the ledge. Neither of them bat an eye, except Niall's concerned staring as I lean against the frame, striking the light.

“Fine, don't answer,” he mumbles, taking back a mouthful of his drink.

I let in a drag, feeling it burn the back of my throat as I slide out my phone. Both the boys sit silently, exchanging glances as I finally type back a semi-coherent response for Simon.

The already buzzing of my head from the nicotine doesn't fully help my thoughts as much as I hoped it would.

strings_n_roses: christmas is over now, so the holidays are gone. if she weighs heavily on you because of the break up, then it isn't healthy and definitely not a pain that you deserve

strings_n_roses: and i know she drives you home, but maybe someone on your team will drive you instead if you ask

strings_n_roses: there's options other than discomfort

I suck in, turning off my phone with the app left open. The sound of Niall's shifting is nearly enough to make me want to yell. Their collective concern is barely appreciated, given it seems to be so sparse when actually needed.

In all honesty, I shouldn't blame them. I'm not in school, and they're just trying to help when they can. still, I can't shake the emptiness of their situational devotion to my feelings.

“You've been acting odd,” Dev adds first, giving me another drink. I take it, finishing my cig first. Looking at the burning end of it, I hand it out the window and crush it against the stone of the wall, leaving the butt on the sill as I climb off.

The drink is always better when you start the second one. “Just life shit. Doesn't matter,” I say, leaning back against the wall as I exhale slowly. There it is. The odd, mostly empty stomach nausea I get whenever I get to drink. Hits me harder, and makes it stronger. And almost definitely going to fuck me over, but it's only a few drinks (and I'm a lightweight, because fuck genetics).

As my eyes fall shut, I feel the jostling buzz of my notifications. Without hesitation, I pick it up and read it through as more messages slide down.

(strings_n_roses): gods.mistake: i dont really have friends on the team to drive me

(strings_n_roses): gods.mistake: or really anyone, except penny and sort of agatha, i guess

(strings_n_roses): gods.mistake: and her dad. her dad loves me

(strings_n_roses): gods.mistake: fuck im a little lonely fucker sorry im a killjoy and you're probably doing something more interesting with your life and im just ranting like an idiot fuck sorry

I ignore both Dev and Niall's looks as I attentively swipe it open, head spinning. I barely pay attention to what I'm saying, trying to get a word in before he has a chance to belittle himself further.

strings_n_roses: don't apologise at all. im heer to yell towards

strings_n_roses: after all im judt drinking im not ewally doingmuch

SIMON

My heart nearly stops, throat catching as I reread.

He's drinking. Fuck.

Vision blurring and body weak, the process of pulling myself upright makes it a battle all in itself.

The bathroom floor is filthy, but it felt like home. One minute I was standing, washing my hands silently in the sink, then I met my eyes in the mirror and crumpled onto the old, ratty bathmat. I'd just cried, a quiet sob into my wrist as the details of the room overwhelmed me. The dripping of the sink, the burning of the lights. The fear of losing Penny because I've practically lost Agatha already.

I don't even know if I miss her. I don't know if I want to miss her. I miss her family at Christmas--this was the first year since moving here without me going to the Wellbeloves for the holidays. I know I miss the way we'd sit together in silence, shoulder to shoulder and watching Doctor Who, but I don't know if I miss us.

She'd told me today that I'm too much. It's been months since the break up, but she said she still had something to say. That something, apparently, is that my life's unnecessary overwhelming, and I don't make her happy.

I told her likewise to me, even if I didn't mean it.

Maybe I did. I don't know.

I don't know anything.

I don't know why Baz is drinking. He'd told me a month or so back that he does occasionally, but he usually refrains from drunk texting. Says he doesn't like waking up to messages he didn't mean to send. I wonder what's different tonight.

I wipe my eyes, sniffling as quietly as possible as my trembling fingers tap out a response.

gods.mistake: please drink water

gods.mistake: and limit yourself. dont drink too much fuck just slow down

gods.mistake: did you eat? make sure youre eating

gods.mistake: please dont do anything stupid just please dont hurt yourself

At first, he's silent. The read receipt pops up, then stays still. Something in me thumps, then grows in strength as I struggle to breathe evenly again.

I've seen it too often. Too fast--too soon. The spiraling, the life destruction. The kids a few years older than me stashing stolen pill bottles under beds and liquor in their pillow cases.

I don't want him to hurt like that, and I can feel it already. The biting edge of coping.

My hand slides through my hair, settling amongst tangled curls as I shake. A disappearing picture from him pops up, starling me slight before I exhale, opening it.

It's his hand, the flash on it as he holds a pint sized glass of water. I can recognize it from his pictures of violin playing, scattered throughout his damned aesthetic Instagram account. It's the only part of his body I can recognize, and I know it well. Smooth on the back, and calloused fingertips with sharp jutting angles of his joins. His skin is a midtone of soft brown, like the shade of a perfect cup of tea, and his palm fades much lighter. You can tell he's some posh arse, because his nails are always trimmed and buffed.

And there they are, holding a glass of water with a crudely drawn smiley face on the screen. The room is mostly dark around it, and I can only make out hardwood floor and a thick, red carpet.

(gods.mistake): strings_n_roses: i'm okay i promise! i'm a healthy boy

(gods.mistake): strings_n_roses: :)

(gods.mistake) strings_n_roses: i’m with friends rhey’re takint xare of me i promise i an ok!

gods.mistake: ok ok im sorry for freaking out im sorry

I chew on my nail, biting around to the cuticles as my eyes squeeze shut. I'm overreacting again. I'm blowing up.

I tap out of the app and pull of my messaging, pulling my one of few conversations--Penny.

im losing it right now penn

its so stupid and youre gonna hate me but im losing it fuck me fuck shit fuck fuck fuck

You've texted your last fuck, buddy

It's the swearing police

I've come to ask for a recount of why on Earth you're sobbing

its stupid its so stupid im sorry

its baz hes drinking

and i panicked and messaged him a ton but im worried i pissed him off and he might hate me what if he hates me

fuck shit fuck

Do you have any basis on him hating you???

Did he text you all angry???

no but i feel it im stupid and i know it i feel it

First of all, stop

Second of all, if he's not angry, he's not angry

Third, why does this matter so much? You barely know him

thats not true we talk everyday

He's online, Si

You can lose him in a snap, why care?

Why do you even trust him so much you don't know what he looks like ://

i know what his hands look like

thats something

and just idk i trust him he seems to care

and we like the same stuff and i just

idk

i trust him

why are you talking about this again now

i thought we were over this

I said I was tired of you talking about Baz at lunch, I didn't say we were over the conversation

I'm just worried, that's all

Fuck knows you don't have someone else to worry about you over this, and he could just be some arse praying on you because you're vulnerable

People do that, you know

hes not some 80 year old creep penn

he seems as young as he says

and he doesnt use me or anything we just talk

im ok im safe i swear

hes just scaring me

Just be safe, Simon.

Something makes me jump, and it takes a full moment to register that it's Davy knocking around downstairs, doing whatever he does in his study. I should be in bed. He knows I should be in bed. He'll want me to be asleep, after all.

I tiptoe out carefully, knowing where the floor doesn't creak as I slip back into my room and in bed. The blanket's shit and scratchy, but it's something.

As I plug my mobile in, I send out a quick message to Baz, letting my embarrassment ease through while I swallow my pride.

gods.mistake: im sorry for freaking out

gods.mistake: sleep tight pls

[cottonwren]

Can you write me something with Ada and Freddie (or not if you wish) and can you include the following: a phone message, hot chocolate and a single flower.

Hi lovely! I really hope you enjoy this

Pairing: Ada Shelby x Freddie Thorne

Words:1947

——————————————–

“Ada, love, you know he’s going to come back, and you know you’re going to get him straight back without any hesitation. No point in getting worked up when you’ve got other things to focus on.” Polly told Ada as she watched her write - it was Christmas, everyone was staying in Tommy’s for the holiday, and everyone apparently meant everyone except Freddie Thorne.

Ada understood that he had a duty to his party, and really, she did. Ada’s patience wore thin, however, when Freddie got arrested at every other protest that he went on and her own family had to fork out money so that he could be at home with them. She knew that one day that the money would not be enough, and a Campbell lookalike would come along, and he’d be gone for a year. Ada didn’t think about the possibility of death.

Shelbies didn’t do death.

“I’m going to be pissed at him first, Pol.” She told her aunt, watching Charlie and Karl play on the carpet with their soldiers. “Wonderful, this shit. Married life.”

“Don’t worry, he’s going to be stuck in a car with Thomas and Alfie, then I’m going to talk with him.” Polly told her, watching the kids over a glass of whiskey.

“Thanks Pol,” Ada chuckled, shaking her head. “Bloody watchdogs, the lot of you.”

“Pissed!” Karl squealed, happy to have learnt a new word.

“Where the fuck did he learn that?” Tommy asked as he walked in, accompanied only by Alfie. No Freddie in sight. Ada visibly drops, and the anger furthers itself.

“More to the point, Tom, where the fuck is my husband?” Ada asked back, setting her notepad down and standing up. Every second that she went without knowing was a second that she was convinced they’d done it this time. They’d locked her man up.

“Your husband stopped on the way. Should be back in an hour, I reckon.” Alfie grunted from behind Tommy, tapping him on the thigh gently and moving past him to sit down.

“Tommy, a word.” Ada told him - it would have been a request from anyone else, but Tommy knew his sister better than to take it as anything but a command.

Once they were in Tommy’s office, tucked away and out of earshot even if Ada shouted, Ada nearly did just that. She nearly shouted so hard that she passed out, she was so angry, so full of rage, but she didn’t.

Instead, Ada hugged Tommy. Which is how Tommy knew that it must be bad, and Freddie deserved the hiding that he and Alfie had given him in the car.

“I’m so pissed at him.” Were the first words that came out of Ada’s mouth, muffled against his tailored suit.

“He knows.” Tommy hummed, wrapping his arms back around her, remembering the time that she’d bitten a teacher’s finger off and come to him first with a red face and watery eyes.

“I’m more worried than pissed. Makes me more pissed.” Ada admitted, reaching behind him to find a bottle of whiskey and succeeding. She broke from the hug to take a sip, offering him the bottle.

“That’s love. I think. I’m still figuring this shit out myself. Freddie promised me he’d be back here tonight with a decent apology, otherwise not only would I break his kneecaps, but so would Alfie. Alfie was threatening a lot worse but we settled on kneecaps.” Tommy told her honestly, taking a sip. “How are you?”

“I’m alright. Too worried about this to be anything else. Keep thinking I’ll be one of those women who has to take their kid to see their dad in prison.” Ada sighed, sitting up on the desk.

“I won’t let that happen, Ade. You know that.” Tommy told her, clearing up the desk.

“You shouldn’t have to stop it from happening, that’s the point. I’m going to put Karl to bed, it’s late Want me to take Charlie up as well? They should go down easy.” Ada asked, walking towards the door, whiskey still in hand after Tommy handed it back.

“I’ll take them up, I’m Karl’s favourite anyway.” Tommy told her, unusually pleasant. It unsettled Ada - she had only seen this side of him in youth and dire situations. They were not young anymore, nor were they in a dire situation. Were they?

Ada nodded, thanking him and walking into the living room. She was greeted by Finn cross legged on her seat, reading what she’d written. If it was anyone else she’d be a little annoyed, but Finn? She was proud that he wanted to read - that he could read.

“Ada, this is really good. Is it for a publication?” Finn asked as she said goodnight to her son and her nephew, sending them up with Tommy.

“Yeah, The Call. I’ve been writing for them for a while - it’s shit pay but I enjoy doing it, and I’m working on some bigger things that will hopefully pay a bit more.” Without Freddie’s position as a blinder, Ada would have had to accepted money off of Tommy whilst they were raising Karl. Socialism was all fun and games until you relied on it to feed and clothe growing boy.

“I’ll buy an issue that you’ve written in if I can, Ade.” Finn told her, having supported all of her previous ventures before he could read them - all about the sentiment, he decided.

Soon after Karl and Charlie had gone to bed, everyone else did.

Everyone but Ada, that is, who sat up and waited for Freddie. The clock managed to go slower with every second, and she wanted to sleep. She’d finished up the first draft of her article and had learnt not to edit drunk, even though she was tipsy at most. Ada didn’t want Karl to wake up to a mum with a hangover.

The Shelby family had already got enough alcoholics. Ada was not one of  them.

It had hit midnight, and Ada had had enough. She was promised an hour or two, she had waited four. It was now the next day, and Ada was walking up the stairs. Freddie had been arrested, and would have been home four hours ago - the same time as Tommy and Alfie - if he really wanted to be there, he would have been.

“Ade!” Called a voice, followed by rampant running through the hall - Mary would be offended by the dirty footsteps on the floor she so diligently checked every morning, but would make no comment because the pay more than compensate for the fact that she worked for complete crackheads. Not literally, anymore, though.

Ada spun on her heel, arms crossed around her waist, journal in hand. Who else would she see than Freddie. Her own love, her own equal. Relief flooded her veins when she saw him, only paralleled by the rush of anger.

“Where the fuck were you?” Ada hissed, glaring him out. She was too angry, too tired to have a screaming match, so she just hissed.

Freddie found that scarier.

“I had to get my stuff, and I got you flowers, and other stuff, and fuck, Ada, I’m sorry.” Freddie apologised, racing towards her. “Is Karl okay?”

“About Karl - he’s fine. He wouldn’t be fine though, Freddie, if this was the time that they decided that no bail could get you out. If I had to drive to prison every saturday so that our son knew he had a dad? If I had to drive to prison every saturday to see my husband? For what? Freddie, I can’t do this without you!” Ada told him in a hushed yell, shaking as she let it out.

“That’s not going to happen, alright? It’s not going to happen. Even in all of the alternate universes, there’s not one where I don’t stay.” Freddie told her honestly, hand gently cupping her jaw.

“We’ll talk about alternate universes later; you’re very wrong.  Right now I want to know why the fuck the dead Karl Marx is more important than the real Karl upstairs, who asked where Daddy was and I had to distract him with trains.” Ada explained, pointing up the stairs to where Karl was sleeping with Charlie a few rooms down. “I have to explain why Daddy sometimes doesn’t come home.”

Ada watched as her words registered on Freddie’s face, and waited for his reply. She had no idea what she needed to hear, but she knew that she needed something other than sorry.

“Ade, I took the time to think - both in the cell and whilst Tom and Alfie were threatening to mutilate me. I keep putting the cause in front of you and Karl, and it’s not right - it’s not what I married you to do.” Freddie told her, just happy that she hadn’t ran away yet or told him to get fucked.

“I didn’t marry you to never see you either, Fred.” Ada told him, most of the anger seeping from her, leaving only the relief that he wasn’t dead. “Tom did say that Alfie was being nice.”

“I have a feeling he was.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

Ada laughed, nodding. “He probably was.”

“So, back to this. Ade. Promise you I’ll do my best not to get arrested - actually, this time - and I’ll be at home more.” Freddie promised, aware that there was still a car boot full of things in the drive if she accepted his promise, including the flowers that he hoped weren’t wilting.

“Good. Now if I’d have heard that three hours earlier…” Ada mused, smirking.

“I got you flowers!” He protested, kissing her cheek.

“Where are they then?” She teased, pulling him back in for an actual kiss. “Go get the stuff - I’d help you but it’s fucking freezing.”

“Hot chocolate?” Freddie asked, walking back down the stairs with her.

“I would love some. I’ll be in the lounge, I’ll help you take the stuff up when we go up.”

“Great.” Freddie thought he probably deserved to be the one making hot chocolate at that moment so he didn’t comment.

Freddie had a suitcase in one hand and a single flower in the other, making Ada grin as she saw him. Something about that smile of his reminded her why she loved him in the first place, of the time spent under the bridge, sitting on coats.

“A single flower for Mrs Thorne.” He smiled, dropping the suitcase down carefully and giving her the flower on a bent knee.

Ada took it in between her fingers, then pulled Freddie up to sit next to her.

“It’d be more, but they got damaged on the way.” He told her, wrapping an arm around her and letting himself just breathe. God, he loved her so much. If only he knew how to express it.

Ada hooked the flower through her buttonhole and shook her head. “It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad, love. Still want that hot chocolate?” Freddie asked, not wanting to move from her. A day was too long, especially when he was aware that it could be the time he had forgotten to say I love you before walking out the house that morning.

“I’d love some.” She nodded, sinking back into the sofa as he left to boil the kettle. Typical, she thought, her aunt was right again. It had taken a remarkable thirty minutes, and everything was normal again.

Ada wouldn’t really have it any other way, though - she needed him, her equal, her best friend, her biggest annoyance. They needed eachother, and no policeman, no brother, no son, no queen, nor anyone else could take that from them.

[danijimenezv]

A Spooky Kind of Love

Prompt/Summary: Old Mansion

Pairing: Winterhawk x reader

Warnings: Jump scare, kinda. Clint’s an ass. A few swear words

Word Count: 4924 words

A/N:  I wrote this for Kari’s Marvelous Halloween Challenge ( @until-theend-oftheline ). I’m tagging some new people, so if you didn’t want to be tagged in this, please let me know and I won’t tag you in the future. This is my first time writing Winterhawk, so feedback would be much appreciated!

Y/N plopped down in the middle of the huge bed, her muscles screaming at her from the long day as she finally let herself relax. Pillows were scattered and the duvet was messily thrown to a side, giving the bed the aspect of a nest. She snuggled further into the comfortable mess when she heard the door to the adjacent bathroom opening and closing, and soft footsteps walking over the carpeted floor. When she raised her head to look, she noticed Clint, wearing black sweatpants and a gray shirt, with his hair slightly disheveled, as if he had been napping just before she’d arrived.

“You’re here.” Clint let himself fall on the left side of the bed, right beside her, and pulled her close to him, depositing a single kiss on her forehead.

“Finally.” Y/N sighed, turning fully to one side to face her partner.

“Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, Bruce and I lost track of time in the lab.” she ran her hand up and down his arm, as his hand came to rest on her waist.

They stayed in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, simply cherishing each other’s presence. It had really been a long few days for them, and they hadn’t been able to spend much time with each other. And yeah, they shared a bedroom, but they ended up so exhausted they would skip everything and head straight to bed. Now that it was finally the weekend, Clint was looking forward to spending some quality time with his two favorite people.

“Where’s our grumpy old man?” he asked Y/N.

“I haven’t seen him all day.” Y/N frowned, “But if I had to bet, I’d say he’s probably in the training room, sparring with Steve.”

“You know, Barnes really needs to stop pretending he’s dating Steve. He has us to pay attention to.”

“Why, you jealous?” she teased with a soft smile.

“Pff, no. I’m just saying, people might get confused.”

“Uh-huh.” Y/N giggled and pressed a lazy kiss over his lips, “Would you please go and get him? It’d be nice to finally spend some time the three of us.”

With a string of groans and complaints falling from his lips, Clint got up from his comfortable position on the huge bed. As he stretched out slowly, Y/N rolled on the bed to get a better look at Clint. She made a low hum of appreciation as she watched one of her men with a soft grin on her face. The muscles of his back tensed and relaxed, giving her quite the view, as he exited their shared bedroom.

The cold tiles made Clint shiver as he skipped past the other bedroom doors, where the rest of the team members were minding their own business. At that time of the night, the compound was quiet and with no signs of activity in the common area. Leave it to the two super soldiers to continue their intense training when everyone else had decided to call it a day. Clint rolled his eyes, annoyed, and continued his way down the hallways.

He made sure to skip quickly to the training room, where sure enough, Bucky and Steve were combating each other. Clint leaned on the railing, temporarily distracted by watching Bucky, but after a few minutes of just admiring the view, he decided he’d had enough with just observing and actually claimed his boyfriend back.

“Hey, Cap!” Clint interrupted, causing both men to stop their sparring and look back at him, panting slightly, “You think I could have this old man back for the night? You can always try to swing a punch at his pretty face tomorrow, I promise.”

Steve chuckled softly, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “Go ahead. He’s all yours.”

“Well, not all mine per se, but I’ll take it.”

With a last pat on his friend’s shoulder, Bucky gathered his phone and towel and jogged back to where Clint was waiting for him. He cleaned the sweat off his face and smiled sheepishly at the blonde guy.

“Hey.” Clint greeted, trying to look annoyed, though he couldn’t help but smile softly at having Bucky so close, “Do you have anything against going to rest early or something? Feels like I’ve been waiting for ages for both of you to get your asses back to our room.”

“Sorry.” Bucky mumbled, “Y/N’s already there?”

“Yeah, she got there some minutes ago. She actually sent me to get you.”

“Sorry, Steve and I lost track of time.”

“That’s exactly what she said too.” Clint huffed, “You two have no regard for our free nights.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Barton.”

Clint laced his hand with the super soldier’s, seeking his warmth, and smiled inwardly as he practically pulled Bucky impatiently to get back to the room. Bucky’s smile matched Clint’s, even as the former spy continued to pretend to be annoyed with him. However, when both men finally got to the room, they found their bed empty, the covers messily thrown to one side, as if to emphasize her absence.

“Didn’t you say Y/N was already here?” Bucky frowned, and Clint groaned loudly.

“She was, about five minutes ago!” he threw his head back and closed his eyes momentarily, “One night. Is that too much to ask?!”

“Maybe she went for a glass of water or something.”

“Oh, I’m gonna kill her.”

“We can go find her.” Bucky suggested, “It’ll take just a few minutes.”

“We? Oh no, no, no. You’re gonna sit right here and stay put, Barnes.” Clint pushed him to the bed, “I’m gonna go find her. And you better be here when we’re back.”

“I will.” he tried to calm his boyfriend.

“I swear, it’s like dealing with children.” Clint grumbled.

“Says the six-year-old trapped inside a grown ass man’s body.” Bucky rolled his blue eyes.

“Shut up, and stay here.” he reminded him, before storming out of the room once again, practically stomping his feet loudly in annoyance.

It wasn’t hard to find Y/N, Clint just had to follow the sound of her giggles that resonated through the halls. As he found himself in the kitchen area, he soon spotted Y/N, sitting on the counter with a glass of milk and a package of cookies in her hands, talking animatedly with Tony. She smiled brightly, her whole demeanor lighting up, as soon as her gaze fell on him, and no matter how hard Clint tried to remain irritated with her, her expression was enough to dissolve his efforts. Though, he still put on a glare on his face, causing her to pout and make the puppy eyes.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered and extended a hand towards him, “Cookie?”

Clint let out a long sigh, accepting the cookie, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Barton.” Tony nodded in his direction in acknowledgment, “I presume you came to get her.”

“Tony.” he greeted back with a nod, before taking the glass of milk from Y/N and taking a gulp, “What were you two up to?”

“Maybe she should tell you.”

“Way to throw me under the bus, Tony.” Y/N glared at the genius.

“Y/N, what is he talking about?”

“Don’t get mad.”

“That’s my line.” Clint pointed out, usually being the one in the relationship to always get in trouble, “But when you start like that, I already know it can’t be good.”

“Tony’s throwing a Halloween party next weekend, and I already promised the three of us will attend.”

“Is it a costume party?”

“No.” Tony rolled his eyes, “Apparently, none of you wanted to wear a costume.”

“Why?” Clint actually looked a bit disappointed at the fact that he wouldn’t dress up this year.

“I’m sure there’ll be other opportunities. Next year, maybe.” Y/N shrugged.

“Whatever.” Tony dismissed, “So, the three of you up for it?”

“Sure.” Y/N answered again.

“Alright, I guess, but you’ll be the one to convince James.” Clint took that responsibility off his own shoulders, knowing their other third wouldn’t be too happy about it.

“Okay, coward.”

“Sweetheart, this is not about cowardice.” he chuckled, “If I wanna get laid, I can’t have Bucky annoyed at me, or the mood will be ruined.”

“Okay, too much information!” Tony raised his voice, “That’s my cue to leave! FRIDAY, please make sure I don’t hear that.”

“Copy, boss.” the voice of the AI resonated clearly.

“Please, limit your activities to your own room.” he scolded.

With one last look of disgust to Y/N and Clint, Tony stormed out of the kitchen and headed towards his own living quarters. Y/N and Clint giggled uncontrollably, still with the image of Tony’s face fresh in their minds. Once they regained their breathing, Y/N hopped off the counter and went to throw away the empty package of cookies, so they could finally head back to their room. After she had placed the glass on the sink, Clint offered her his hand, which she quickly took, and they made their way back to the room, to where Bucky was waiting. Or where they thought Bucky was waiting, because once they got to the room, they didn’t see the super soldier there.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Clint raised his voice in frustration.

“Clint.” Y/N chastised him softly.

“I’m gonna kill him.” he stated with a serious expression on his face, “I told him to stay put and not move, and what does he do? Moves!”

“Calm down, Hawkeye.” Bucky’s teasing voice rang clearly through the room, “I was just in the bathroom.”

Y/N and Clint turned their heads in the direction of the voice, and noticed Bucky emerging from their bathroom. Both their breaths got stuck in their throats and their gazes checked him out immediately as he stood shirtless in the doorway. The gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, and he had a dark, navy blue material in his hands. He smiled shyly at them, and they returned the gesture, but Y/N was the first to break out of the daze and walk to him. With confidence, she ran her hand up his chest, enjoying how his muscles contracted at her touch, and finally placed them on both sides of his neck. She pulled him down and finally connected her lips with his, kissing him fervently. Bucky dropped the shirt and his hands found their way to her waist automatically.

A few seconds later, she felt a firm chest pressed against her back, along soft kisses being peppered on her shoulder, but firm arms went past her sides to rest on Bucky’s hips. As Y/N went to deepen the kiss, Clint’s arms brushed her sides, making her wince and pull away.

“Not yet, it seems.” Clint sighed, pulling away, and Bucky did the same, dropping his arms from her waist.

“It was nothing.” Y/N denied quickly, wanting to go back to their position a few seconds ago, “Come on.”

“Doll.” Bucky said seriously, “You’re still hurt from the last mission. We’re not going to do anything while you’re like this.”

“I’m fine!” she insisted.

“No, you’re not.” he lifted her shirt slightly to show the bruises that marked her body.

They were finally starting to fade, but purple spots were still visible, staining her skin. She cursed internally, and yanked her shirt back down to cover her.

“My ribs are bruised, not broken.” Y/N explained, as if that would change their minds.

“Y/N.” Clint stopped her, “When you get better.” he promised.

“I am better.”

“Better than now.”

She groaned softly under her breath, scolding herself for being so reckless in the last mission. Clint walked away and plopped down on the bed, happily snuggling the pillows, while Bucky picked up the shirt he had let fall to put it on. With a frown on her face, Y/N went to the bathroom and got herself ready to go to bed, washing her mouth and changing into her pijamas. When she came out, she noticed Bucky waiting by the door, wearing the navy blue henley shirt Y/N and Clint had gotten for him a few months ago.

“You know…” Y/N decided to start, looking up at Bucky through her eyelashes, “Tony’s throwing a party next weekend.”

“Doesn’t really surprise me.” he commented, “Stark doesn’t need a reason to throw a party.”

“I want to go.” she stated, “I want us three to go, together.”

Bucky frowned, not really sure how to respond, but one look into her hopeful eyes and he knew he was lost.

“If that makes you happy…” he agreed with a resigned sigh.

She smiled shyly up at him, grateful he had agreed and knowing he was doing it just for her. Y/N leaned in to kiss him once again, but Bucky pulled away before she had the chance to deepen the kiss and tempt him to do something he knew they shouldn’t, with her still hurt.

“Bed, now.” he ordered with amusement at her attempts.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with mischief, “Bed, of course.”

“To sleep.” he clarified.

Y/N pouted adorably, but she still did what she was told and headed to bed, climbing up and settling down in the middle of it. As it was obvious, given their past life experiences, neither Clint nor Bucky felt comfortable sleeping in the middle of the bed, in between two other bodies, so they usually slept at both sides, while Y/N happily lay between them. It was an agreement they had accepted since they moved to the same room, and it had stayed that way. Y/N didn’t really mind, as long as it could give her men a bit of peace of mind. As soon as the three of them settled, Clint cuddled closer to Y/N, burying his head in the crook of her neck, Y/N’s head rested over Bucky’s bicep, and Bucky was turned in their direction, with his other arm draped over Y/N and all the way to rest over Clint too, and their legs intertwined with each other. That was their usual position to sleep in, the three of them as close as they could. Y/N knew she would probably wake up drenched in sweat, feeling like she was burning up from their body warmths, but she didn’t seem to care; as long as she was with both, Bucky and Clint, she was in her happy place.

The next weekend came around quickly, after another busy week, and the whole team was happy that they could unwind for a while. The team was scattered around the room, in small groups as they enjoyed the party. Clint had disappeared with Tony some time ago, Bucky was lounging and spending time with Steve and Sam, and Y/N was talking with Nat and Wanda. Though, as time passed and they consumed more alcohol, they slowly found their way around the coffee table, the whole team sitting on the couches and talking casually.

“Y/N.” Clint’s eyes sparkled dangerously as he changed seats with Thor, to be closer to her.

“Clint.” she retorted, “What’s up, babe?”

“Tony and I have a dare for you.” he smirked mischievously.

“Clint.” Bucky warned him, being the most sober, along with Steve, Vision and Natasha.

“What kind of dare?” she smiled excitedly, like a little child.

“Well, it’s Halloween related.” her smile immediately faltered, and Bucky frowned as he noticed her mood dropping, “Do you remember the old mansion down the street?”

“The creepy one? Yeah…”

“We dare you to go there.” Tony completed for Clint, “Walk through the whole mansion and then come back.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently. She wasn’t good with creepy, horror stuff; Clint should’ve known that, so why was he doing that to her?

Bucky could sense her fear, even if he weren’t right beside her, but before he could say anything, Tony continued.

“Come on, Y/N, you’re an Avenger. An old mansion is nothing to you.”

She looked at Clint pleadingly, but as the rest of eyes laid on her expectantly, she sighed in defeat and got up from the couch.

“Why?”

“It’ll be fine, it’s nothing.” her dirty-blond boyfriend dismissed and gave her a comm to place in her ear, “This way, we can hear you.”

“Just walk around one time and leave, right?” she made sure.

“Sure.”

Her nerves and slight fear to do so made her sober up a bit, and with a last look to her teammates, she exited the building and starting to head towards the mansion. Her feet dragged as she walked dreadfully towards the place. She slowly approached the mansion as it towered in the dark of the night. Even the weather made it more decrepit. The broken gates were open, and Y/N was careful to slip part them without touching them, not wanting to hear the sound of the rusty hinges. The mansion was dark and gloomy. It had narrow broken windows and a moldy, wooden door. Y/N’s heart began to beat faster as she finally got to the entrance. Overgrown weed covered the door, as if to warn her away, but with the last shred of bravery she had, she took the brass door handle and opened it, before stepping inside. She was careful to close the door softly behind her, not wanting to hear it shut forcefully like in every horror movie. Though, as she closed it, the door immediately locked, causing her to gasp in panic.

“Guys, the door just locked.” it was probably the only door to enter the house, which meant it was also the only exit.

She was too freaked out to pay attention to what they had to say, but she tried to calm herself, though it was proving to be a hard task. Even if the windows were shattered, little to no moonlight shone through them, making it hard to decipher her surroundings, but she forced her eyes to adjust to it. The floor creaked with every step she took like every abandoned mansion did. A musty stench filled her nostrils the more she ventured inside. The furniture was dusty and old, and mold seemed to eat away at the walls and flood, with cobwebs in every corner, making it look like the whole mansion would crumble apart and collapse on her if she made a wrong move.

She chanted internally “You’re an Avenger, you’re an Avenger, you’re an Avenger”, as if that would make the terror she felt go away.

The old mansion definitely had that spooky charm to it, dull and quiet, with chandeliers suspended from the ceiling and creepy sounds coming from everywhere. Even if it was deserted, and it had been abandoned for years, Y/N felt as if something in the shadows was watching her, making her scalp itch, but she knew it was just her fear and paranoia acting up.

As she finally finished roaming on the first floor, she headed towards the steps that lead upstairs, and swallowed deeply. She tried out the bottom step with hesitation, hearing it squeak as she applied pressure with her foot, but it didn’t crumble. Every step was a different height from the last, making it impossible for Y/N to go up quickly and get it done so she could go back home, she had to watch carefully where she placed her feet. There was a flash of brown fur as several rats dived for cover once she reached the second floor, causing a scream to erupt from her throat.

Laughs echoed in her ear, causing her face to heat up. She placed a hand over her chest, trying to calm her heartbeat.

“There were rats here.”

“Only rats?” Tony teased.

She ignored him and continued the tour, informing them she was already on the second floor. The floor crunched and sank slightly with each step. The lights started flickering suddenly, making her gasp loudly. On the other side of the line, Clint and Tony snickered, trying to keep in their laughs. They had planned it carefully as a prank, knowing she was probably the only one that would get scared with it. Finally, Tony smirked and activated the last surprise, with the remote he had designed specifically for it.

Just  as her back was to an old closet, the doors opened slowly, and a hand came to rest on her shoulder. Y/N let out a blood-curling scream for a second, before her instincts kicked in and she attacked whoever was there. Except, when she did and kicked it, it stumbled and fell loudly on the floor, the metal clanking sonorously. Now, their laughter was uncontainable.

“Clint.” she asked softly as she wiped the few tears that she couldn’t stop from falling from the corners of her eyes, “What…?”

“It’s not haunted, Y/N. It’s just a plain, old mansion.” his laughter finally dying down, “Tony helped set a few things up so we could spook someone. And I’m sorry, but you were the most likely to get scared.”

Once she calmed down a bit, she turned to look at what had scared her. She recognized it immediately; it was one of Tony’s robots from the Iron Legion, styled differently to match the Halloween vibe they were probably trying to give it. Something ignited inside Y/N as she heard that; pure rage. How could he do something like that, knowing she hated this stuff? All the fear seemed to disappear from her mind as it quickly started to think of a plan. It was evil, yes, but then again, Clint hadn’t exactly thought about how it would affect her either, so why not? Breathing deeply, she started her acting.

“Hilarious.” she sounded annoyed, but made her voice quiver a bit, just to give it effect, “Tony, can you please stop it?”

“Stop what?”

“The lights are flickering again.” she lied.

Clint and Tony shared an uncertain look, and then their gazes stopped on the remote, laying on the coffee table.

“Y/N, we’re not doing anything.”

“You already scared me, you don’t have to keep doing it.” she continued and walked to the side to kick a wall, making a crashing sound, “Guys, really, stop it with the sound effects.”

“Y/N, hear me out.” Tony turned serious, “Get out of there. We’re not doing that.”

“What do you mean?” she smirked, knowing she had gotten them, and she continued making other sounds, breaking a few objects she found, “Guys?”

“Y/N.” Clint snapped, actually worried.

“Why did you make me come here?” she whispered, causing a pang of guilt to hit Clint, and took the comm off her ear.

“Y/N.” her name sounded faint now that she had taken it off, “Come back.”

“Clint!” she cried out in what she hoped would sound as pure panic, before stepping hard on the earpiece and breaking their communication. She smirked once again, knowing she only had to find a good place to hide and wait for them to come get her, so she could scare them back.

Though, back in the Tower, as soon as the connection was lost, Bucky jumped out of his seat and glared at Clint, who looked ready to freak out, “Get up, Barton. We are going to go get our girlfriend back, and you’re going to fix this.”

With a meek nod, Clint sprinted out of the main area and gathered everything he might need to get Y/N back, same as Bucky. In a matter of minutes, both men were ready and exiting the Tower in a rush. They sprinted the rest of the way to the mansion, only taking a few minutes to get there. They didn’t talk, Clint too worried thinking about worst case scenarios and Bucky too annoyed with Clint, though he remained quiet about it; scolding him would do no good until they found Y/N.

As soon as they arrived, Bucky knew he should’ve never let Y/N leave the Tower. The place was everything the girl hated, and he glared at Clint for even thinking about this stupid prank in the first place. Without a second thought, both got inside the mansion, as alert as ever. The lights were off, probably after Tony deactivated everything, but they couldn’t care less, they were only thinking about finding her. As they reached the second floor, where they knew Y/N had been last, Clint brought up his bow at the minimum sound, and Bucky did the same with one of his guns. The mansion felt desolated, and even if they strained their hearing, they couldn’t tell if Y/N was there at all. Clint dropped his head and closed his eyes shut, starting to freak out.

“Clint, hey.” Bucky called him, dropping his gun and pulling Clint by his shoulders to face him, “Come on, look at me.”

“Buck, I-I…” he took a shaky breath, “I fucked up.”

“Don’t say that.” he tried to calm his boyfriend, knowing he was about to lose it completely.

“But, what if something happened to Y/N–” he choked up just thinking about it, “What if they took her again, like last time? What if–”

“Hey.” Bucky interrupted him, pulling him in a tight hug.

Of course he knew what time Clint was referring to. The time Y/N was taken by HYDRA. The time they came really close to losing her for real. But Bucky also remembered that time being his fault, at least in his mind. He hadn’t been able to save her, to get them both, and she had been taken, and suffered the consequences. That time, Clint was there for Bucky, to pull him out of the dark place he had put himself in, to assure him everything was going to be alright, to remind him he didn’t have to be alone anymore. This time, it was Bucky’s turn to do the same for Clint.

“Clint.” he pulled back from the hug to place a soft kiss on his lips, “Y/N’s gonna be fine, you hear me?”

“It was just a prank, it wasn’t supposed to–”

“I know. We’re gonna get our girl back.” he stated with as much security as he could muster, “But for that, I need you to calm down.”

“You…” Clint took deep breaths, “You’re right.”

“I love you.” he reminded the blond archer.

They didn’t say it frequently, because they didn’t really need to; they knew exactly how they felt. The words were reserved for moments like this, when they really needed to hear them.

“I love you.” he repeated.

“And Y/N loves you too.” Bucky added.

“I’m sure she now hates me.”

“She might be a little pissed about the prank, but she still loves you, dumbass.”

“I hope you’re right.” he muttered.

After that, they resumed their search with newfound determination. Unbeknown to them, Y/N had heard their conversation. Part of her felt guilty for scaring them like that, but another part of her was still mad at Clint and Tony for doing that. She waited until they were unprepared to come out of her hiding, being as sneaky as she could. Once she was behind them, she skillfully crouched down and swept her leg across the floor, going for Clint’s feet so he fell on the floor. But before he could react and point his bow at her out of instinct, Y/N placed a hand on it to stop him, and looked down at him from her standing position.

“That should teach you not to scare me, asshole.” she raised a single eyebrow in defiance.

Bucky let out a laugh of disbelief at their girlfriend, dropping his weapon and hugging her from behind as she still towered over the tackled Clint. She leaned back against the super soldier, melting at his touch, before taking her feet from Clint’s chest, so he could get up.

“Okay, I deserved that.” Clint admitted, “But I was really worried.”

“So I heard.” her expression softened, “It wasn’t really my intention to worry the both of you like that.”

“Wasn’t it?” Clint scoffed.

“Well, a little. I had to get my revenge somehow, and that’s what occurred to me at the moment.” she shrugged, “I just wanted to scare you a little. I’m sorry for making you worry like that.”

“You’re okay. That’s all I care about.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Bucky asked rhetorically, mouthing a soft ‘Apologize’ behind Y/N’s back, so she wouldn’t see him. Clint got up and looked at her with puppy eyes, begging for her forgiveness without actually saying it, which in turn made Bucky shake his head in exasperation, but a bit of amusement was noticeable on his expression.

“Alright, come here.” Y/N gave up, rolled her eyes and pulled Clint by his shirt, joining their lips, “You still have a lot of making up to do.” she whispered over his lips.

Clint practically melted against her touch, more relieved than anything, and his arms went around her waist immediately, pulling her as close as he could. Though, one of his hands reached out in search of Bucky. Bucky grinned at the scene, and let Clint pull him close to them. Y/N broke the kiss and turned around to now face Bucky, kissing him as well.

“Thanks for coming.” Y/N said truthfully, “It was Clint’s mess. I know you had nothing to do with this.”

“Nonsense.” he chuckled, entwining one hand with Y/N’s and one with Clint’s, “The three of us, we’re in this together, right?”

Y/N’s face heated up, and she stared at both of them with what could only be described as heart eyes, “Yes, we are.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Clint completed.

Tags: @until-theend-oftheline, @missflashgeek, @thinkwritexpress-official, @docharleythegeekqueen, @mizzezm, @smoothdogsgirl, @thisismysecrethappyplace, @marvelismylifffe, @sebsunshinestan, @serienjunkiegirl

[the-voice-of-hell]

Rent is Theft, part 26, The End

Read from the beginning here, read the previous chapter here.  Note:  My MC is a Filipina trans woman and I am not.  If you have notes on that or anything else, hit me up.

                                                     ***

      This is pretty spoilery from the first paragraph, so...

       I went to the kids’s apartment and assessed the damage.  Olivia and Knobby had Deandre in the bedroom and used a bandana to tourniquet his leg.  I let them know the pig was dead and checked out Mike’s body.

      He still looked so alive, I dragged a blanket over him and made some half-assed sign of the cross.  By then, Momi was bringing Patrick and Perry into the room, and Olivia was standing in the bedroom door to let Deandre hear any happenings without moving him.  Marcie and Richie showed up at the door.

      Speech time.  “Alright, this is over.”  My energy started out confident, but suddenly choked.  I had been going on adrenaline from the fight, maybe, but mid-sentence I realized I had welcomed all these nice people into Hell.

      I killed Mike.  I wobbled on my legs, standing over that body, eyes searching my people - my victims.  “We need to get the hell out of here before it gets any worse.  I am so sorry I brought you into this.”

      “Bitch shut the hell up.”  Perry tried to walk away, and Patrick snagged his hand.

      I threw up my hands.  Yeah.  I’m done.

      Marcie said, “Alright, we should go.  Get anything you need and just go.  Does anybody need help with anything?  I can’t do much, but maybe we can help each other one more time before...”  She seemed to finally make sense of the lump on the ground behind me and pressed her face into Richie’s arm.

      Deandre yelped in pain, dragging himself into the room, grunting in agony with each step.  He leaned on Knobby.  “It was worth a shot.  A couple months no rent, I coulda ended up this fucked up just out there on the street.”

      Patrick said, “Yeah, well, I got nothin’ nice to say, so… Let’s just get the fuck out, huh?”

      Momi held me close.  I thought of something and looked around for an answer.  “Grime.  Does anyone have a phone?”

      “I don’t think ours are gonna work,” Knobby said.  “The chargers melted, like...”

      Deandre said, “I put mines in the freezer.  Somebody wanna grab it for me?”  Knobby hurried away.

      Olivia came over to Momi and me, a scrawny cat in baggy underwear and tank top.  She wrapped her arms around us.  “Thanks mom.”

      I stifled tears, then my heart skipped a beat when I heard a distant pop.  A pop followed by a sound of glass breaking, and a mess spreading over the hall carpet.  Another pop.

      Knobby came back in a hurry, gave Deandre the phone.  “It’s fuckin’ raining eyeballs in the halls, guys.  Is that bad?  It feels bad.”

      Deandre got Grime.  “Dude.  Don’t come back.  The place is all fucked up.  Just forget it…  I don’t know!  It’s bad.  I’m goin’ to the hospital bad.”

      Patrick shushed him, shushed all of us.  Olivia let go of the group hug and bent her big ears.

      The elevator doors were opening.

      We were all so quiet we could hear Grime on the phone say, “How’s Courtney?”

      Then his words were lost under the sound of footsteps and bouncing balls, of some unknown horde spilling into the hall, marching in irregular time.

      Perry started to panic, tried to run away, but Patrick wrapped arms around him again.  “Hey man, put your hands up!  We gotta put our hands up!  There are bodies, man!”  He stepped away from his man and put his own hands up, nodded.  Perry slowly unfurled himself and complied, fell in beside Patrick, both looking toward the door in terror.

      Deandre hung up the phone and flopped into the bedroom, out of sight.  Olivia joined him in there, followed by Marcie and Richie.

      I thought about who was out in the hall.  Who was out in the hall?  Was it cops?  What would they think of the bug man’s corpse?  Momi tried to drag me toward the room, then gave up and put her hands up.

      They stood in the door.  Behind them I could see Charlie’s greasy head.  “There they are!”

      He was marching with creatures in grey trenchcoats.  Giant cicadas?  They pulled human-like hands from their pockets, loose eyeballs falling out and rolling on the carpets.  They quickly filed into the room to stand,each transfixing a single finger on a different one of us.

      Perry backed up, trembling violently, shaking his head.  Patrick stepped between him and the accusing finger.  “No!  Fuck this shit!  Back OFF!”

      The things were unmoved.  Charlie came into the room as more filed in from behind.

      “ProperCo stands for quality service, and that means keeping paying customers safe from trespassers.  You degenerates sicken me.  Take them out!”

      The last cicadas started trying bedroom doors.  They opened one, then as they approached the one with Deandre and the kids, Momi ran to block them.  “Hey!,” she yelled.  The one pointing at her wheeled in place, keeping its accusing finger trained on her, but not moving.

      I’d been paralyzed, but apparently it was go time.  I started moving, but was still in the grip.  I managed one step Momi’s direction.  No, baby.

      One got its hand on the doorknob, and she bashed it aside with both arms.  I’d seen enough bizarre things today, but this still surprised me.  The thing seemed to break apart at the joints, collapsing like bowling pins inside its coat.

      Momi looked surprised too, but didn’t have much time to react.  The remaining creatures didn’t even pause at the destruction of their comrade, another rushing to take the place of the one she demolished.  She was too close for a proper punch so she bumped it back a step with her body and then kicked it in the middle.

      Like the first, it fell to pieces.  The trenchcoat spilled its contents - more of those eyeballs, a creepy fluid like tobacco spit, and the gleaming oil-colored segments of the creature.  Some of the limbs had a comb-like fringe of sharp black spines.

      She kicked the pieces away and looked to me, ready for the next.  I grabbed the arm of the one pointing at me and immediately had to let go, fingers bleeding.  It stopped pointing and raised its hands to grab me.  But as swift as they were filing in, they were oddly slow.  I shoved it back with two fists to the chest.  It felt fragile - no more sturdy than a cheap kitchen appliance.

      Over its shoulder I could see Patrick going to town on them, encouraged by Momi’s success.  I yelled to him, “Watch for the spines!”

      “HahaHA!  Take that!”

      It was an empowering moment.  We kicked, shoved, and stomped the things apart.  But more kept coming.  What the fuck was this?  What were we supposed to do?  I got to Momi, almost tripping a trenchcoat scrap tangled on my foot.

      “Let’s get everyone to the elevator or the stairs!”

      “OK!”  She whipped the bedroom door open and gestured for everyone to come out.  One by one they came out into the unreal scene of weird horrors and had to deal with it.  I could hardly keep up with dismantling the cicadas and looking at my people.  I wished I could see how Marcie was doing.  Leimomi was the best able to carry Deandre and was taking care of that, at least.

      “Call me a fuckin’ degenerate?”  Patrick was attacking Charlie with a severed bug limb, wielding the thing like a scimitar.  Through the frantic scene I saw his expression change as blood splashed over it.  He sucked in his lips in regret and horror.  Didn’t know it would be that sharp.

      I think Charlie was one of the things I almost tripped over on my way into the hall, bringing up the rear.  Deandre and Momi were closest to me.  Deandre was glancing back into the room just as we escaped and his eyes widened in shock.  “Mike!”

      “I know!”  I knew it was my fault.

      “He’s still alive!”

      I heard Marcie’s voice from up ahead, “Mikey!  Oh god!”

      Momi stopped in her tracks.  Our group was jammed up in the hall, fighting cicada men for every inch of ground as more and more spilled out of the stairwell.  The elevator door was closed, which may have been a good sign.

      “Momi, pass Deandre up the line, call the elevator!”

      She looked like she didn’t know if that would all be possible, but at least hit the call button while she could.  I didn’t stick around to see how she handled Deandre.  If Mike really was alive, he probably wouldn’t survive being moved - not like this - but I had to try.

      The mindless creatures were focused on the crowd of us, so they had mostly abandoned the room.  In the riot of action I had been unable to see the consequences of this melee.  The grey light revealed a ruined world.  The ground was completely covered with spiny black corpses tangled with rough grey cloth and filthy brown viscera.  Peppered throughout were those fucking eyeballs.  Charlie’s corpse was little more than a bump underneath the mass of insect limbs.  The furniture was all flipped or smashed, every surface blistered from the heat treatment, and the air still hazy with that smoke.

      There were two dark figures inching toward Mike.  He was alive, legs paralyzed and tangled in the blanket, reaching out to me in terror.  “Courtney oh man… Oh god!”

      “I know!”  I charged through the waste, kicking up chunks of chitin that had the weight of vacuum attachments or celery stalks.  The mess thinned out closer to the windows, and closer to him.  I charged up on the monsters, did the double-fisted punch to one’s back.

      It was as effective as before - the thing’s torso ripped almost completely free of its limbs, surging out of the coat for a moment before toppling to the floor.  The other one got to mike and reached down to his face like a priest.

      I could see myself doing a jump kick, busting it apart like Jean Claude Van Damme.  A little hustle, a hop, and bam.  But the vision betrayed me.  My feet snagged in the remains of the creature I’d just smashed, and I fell down hard.  The spiny limbs ripped right into me, slicing my stomach and left arm.

      My face bounced off the floor, stars everywhere.  I was picked up, somebody strong, soft, sweaty.  Momi was dragging Mike and I over the mess.  I started catching cuts again.  Was I in shock?  I was aware of the ragged state of my arm, of the flesh around my belly wound swelling and burning, but the pain seemed remote.  I could see Mike beside me, goggle-eyed and looking like a sausage with sweat beading on his discolored, purple-pink skin.

      Ow!  Too much.  I hauled myself to my feet, all my injuries starting to throb and scream at the same time.  “I’m good, I’m...”  The end of the hall with the stairs was walled off with a teeming ruin of chitin and fabric.  Busy mindless teeming hands worked from the other side to clear the mess while Richie pressed a door against it like a shield and Marcie leapt up to smack the reaching creatures.

      Ding!  The elevator reached the floor and the doors opened, just Momi, Mike, and I facing it.  As the metal rolled back, we could see the cicada men arrayed in right rows, like black metal machine guns in a rack.

      There was only one door to get away from them - a place with no exits, no escape.  We all crowded into my apartment, Richie closing and locking the door behind us, snapping off bits of bug extremities as he did.  A scattering of eyeballs had made it through and rolled across the floor like it was a big pool table.  Marcie aggressively crushed the things.

      Richie kept his palms on the door.  “They are sooo gonna get in.”  He turned around, pressing his back against it.  “What are we gonna do?  What are we gonna do?”

      I was leaning against my bedroom door frame again, no Mae West now.  I felt cold while my wounds felt hot, the blood already thickening to warm glue, gobbing inside my robe.

      Leimomi was holding Mike close like lovers in a waltz.  His toes scraped the ground.  Probably he was already dead.  Her hair was sad dregs of what it used to be.

      Olivia and Knobby helped Deandre sit on a couch and settled in beside him, exhausted and unsure.

      Patrick held Perry close as the taller older man looked away from us pointedly, head sunk.  Patrick looked shell-shocked.

      Marcie yelped, “Richie!”

      Richie turned around, planting palms on the door again, and saw what she was freaking about.  The doors hinges were coming unscrewed, amid a furious buzzing in the hall.

      Patrick said, “What now, woman?”

      I turned away, walked into my bedroom, looked at the haze and the blisters, the pathetic remnants of my nest.  A glob of blood sucked free from my stomach and splashed on the floor.  I looked down at it curiously.  The ground puckered and warped like a black hole’s event horizon.  I felt like I was falling into it.

      No, I caught myself.  I was just staggering from the blood loss.

      “What now, woman?”

      Momi defended me, “Shut up, dude.”

      I became aware of people coming into the room behind me, but I just looked around, ahead of me.  The window.  We could go out the window.  I took a few halting steps that way, then more toward the closet.  It looked cozy in there.  Dark.  Yeah, hide, lay low until this blows over.  Why not?

      The sound of the door flying off the hinges.  Insect feet tapping their march, like goose stepping on chipmunk RPMs.  I glimpsed Richie and Marcie moving toward the bathroom, but I got their attention.

      “Hey!  Follow me, guys.  I got this.  We got this.”

      Momi closed in beside me, Patrick pulled Perry behind me, Deandre and kids were back there somewhere too.  I walked into the closet on floating steps, pushed my way in with a blood soaked left hand.  Ran it along the wall.  I knew everyone was behind me, pushed in by the crush of insect men.  I couldn’t see, could only feel the blood and the darkness, warm ahead of us.

      I led them into that place.

                                                      ***

      Graeme Wexell tried his prox key on the alley side door of the building.  It didn’t work.  Considering what that most likely meant, he quickly walked away, circled the block.

      He put in both earbuds and tried Courtney’s phone again, then Deandre’s, then Patrick’s, then Deandre’s again.  Having circled the block with no response, he leaned on the fence dividing the apartment’s alley from the next property, looked the building up and down impatiently.  It was maddeningly opaque, reflecting the overcast early morning light all too perfectly.

      He needed a better angle to stake it out without being clocked.  If the floories were perp walked out, he’d know to go look for them at a police station.  If they came out any other way, he could talk to them, find out what happened.  He could not bring himself to give up the watch.

      Casting about for a solution, he hit on something a little desperate, perhaps equally risky.  Clearly, not thinking clearly.  He went into the alley on the other side of the fence, which was adjacent to an older building with a disused fire escape.

      He rolled a dumpster under the thing, heaved himself up on top, and carefully leapt to the bottom rung.  He hadn’t climbed anything in years, but had a sort of natural strength that helped overcome his lack of athleticism.  It was still an effort he’d be feeling the next day, but he got to the lowest level of the fire escape.

      Due to the narrow old bars, he’d be poorly visible from the street but still able to see the next alley over the fence just fine.  He slouched low to avoid notice, stared intently.  Minutes passed before he started trying to call people again, to no avail.

      The morning clouds burned away into a relatively blue sky, his lack of sleep and the strain of his exertion and stress and hunger threatened to take him under.  He felt like he was going insane, like he’d just die on that rusty old rack, get discovered months later by some Law & Order styled policemen who’d crack wise about his cargo shorts.

      It was the worst experience of his whole excursion into revolutionary anti-capitalist action.  But at 9:43 AM, his patience was rewarded with a revelation.

      The back door of the apartments opened and three bizarre dark creatures in trenchcoats filed out, so smoothly and eerily that it seemed the three were unfolding from one.  One held the door and the other two flanked the opening like guard statues.  His heart vibrated in time with their uncanny movements.  The blood left his head in a rush.  He almost fainted, but instead gripped the steel bars with sweaty white-knuckled fists.

      More of the creatures filed out into the broad daylight.  No fear of discovery?  No one seemed to look into the alley, take notice.  Christ, what sorts of things happen in this world, if this is possible?  The next set were dragging the blood-drenched corpse of landlord Charlie.  They hauled him to the trash compactor and tried to heave him inside.

      But they were too weak.  They used spiny extra limbs from within their coats to start snipping him to pieces, throwing each part in the dumpster like so much meat, leaving blood and chunks all over the area.  They took something from what was left of his clothes and came back toward the door.  Meanwhile, another two had gone out to the sidewalk, grabbing a random lady off the street and dragging her toward the building.

      Graeme wanted to move, to save her, but she wasn’t resisting.  Had they instantly killed her with some sort of venom?  His mind just kept melting, slipping through the bars with his sweat.

      The things circled, dipping and weaving with robot efficiency.  One put the item from Charlie into her pocket, the others scissored away her jacket and shirt with arm spines, before slipping a corporate polo shirt over her head and shoulders.

      They filed back inside like dancers on a cuckoo clock, closing the door behind themselves and leaving the woman dazed, standing.  She took the item out of her pocket.  Keys.  She used the prox key to open the back door and disappeared inside.

      Graeme stayed in a hotel for a few weeks before transferring to a different job in Texas.  He never returned to Seattle.

                                                      ***

      The tall shining Myrmidon Apartments were clean and new - barely used.  People came in to check out the rooms, see if there was anything they could afford, sometimes just for a glimpse at a life they’d never achieve.  One such man had come in on that day, looked out the window into the void of sky while the manager blathered through the sales pitch in the background.  Room 1203.

      He put his fingers to the glass and leaned his head closer.  He could imagine passing through the membrane, losing his mind, another fish in a sea of sky.  The manager took mental note to hit the spot with Windex after he was gone.

      The manager’s phone rang.  “Just a moment, let me...”

      “Mm-hm.”  The man walked into another room - the bedroom - all antiseptically squared away in its stock furnishings and plastic plants.

      He heard a noise in the closet and came near, brow wrinkling in fear.  An animal?

      No.  The door opened from within.  I stood there, a vision in black gossamer and jewels. He fell over the bed, then quickly scrambled to his feet.

      “I’m Courtney,” I told him from the mouth on my face.  "You can go if you want, get on a waiting list for roach and bed bug infested low income housing, or try to get by with more than four hours of commuting every day while your rent rises faster than your pay.  You can do anything."

      "I can’t afford this.  How did you know?"

      "You're right, this place is a monument to automatized, mindless, bottomless greed.  It can never be a home, can only rob you blind and spit you out…  But there is somewhere you can go that won't cost you anything, I swear to god."

      The walls nearest me began to swell red and suppurate with ill fluids.  In the next room, the manager started talking to him again.  “Alright, Mr. Coral, where were we?”  Footsteps approaching.  The bed started to twist in place on the inflamed flesh of the floor.

      He looked at me, lost.  “What do I do?  What is this?”

      I beckoned, arms pulling him with invisible power, a siren with skin of turquoise and lavendar.  He staggered toward me.

      “It won’t cost you anything,” I told him from the mouth on my throat.  “All you have to do is come with me.  All you have to do is disappear.”

                                                  THE END