Souls of Glass Chapter 12

Just a lot of pure fluffy floof <3 And a little smut xD Enjoy~!

Lost is my bb boi!

Xans, Vasriel and Vlowey belong to @jeyawue

Chapter 12

Xans lay awake in the dark, the soft sounds of Lost's breathing next to him. He fingered the collar around his neck, sighing. I'm his.... He thought, then turned his head to look at the sleeping form next to him. Lost was curled up slightly, his face peaceful  and hands slightly curled in front of his face. The dragon charm's eyes seemed to glint in the moonlight and he smiled a little. And he's mine. All mine.... He watched as Lost twitched in his sleep, his face scrunching as a nightmare began to form behind his rapidly moving, closed eyelids. "Shh...." He reached out and gently threaded his fingers through soft, black and white tipped strands. "It's alright Lost....jus' a bad dream..."

After a few moments, Lost calmed down and nuzzled his hand in his sleep, a soft smile crossing his features before relaxing back into a deeper sleep. He chuckled and moved to hold Lost close, their noses near touching. I....I'm not sure what I feel right now.... He thought as his Soul thrummed in his chest. Is this....contentment? Happiness? Or is it somethin' more than that?

He tucked Lost's head under his chin, running a hand up and down the pale young man's back. I don't know anymore.... He frowned. He could feel Lost's heartbeat against his chest, the rhythm soothing and gentle. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to follow the beat and match it with his own breathing. If....If I go back to the way I was...I'll lose this....won't I? The thought caused his Soul to suddenly squeeze in pain enough to make him flinch. This feeling....my hunger will return........

He stopped  moving his hand, having it rest in the small of Lost's back. I'll stop....feeling this way....right? Human Souls are very different from monster Souls...or the one I once had. If I go back to the way I was, I'll regain my powers in full, but- He was cut off as his hand slid down to Lost's shoulder blades. Hmm? He dragged his hands along carefully, feeling Lost shiver as his fingers found soft bumps across his skin. Scars? From what? He looked down at the sleeping young man and smiled. What secrets are ya still hidin', hmm?

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Lost finished wiping the window down and sighed. He had rolled up the sleeves of his light blue knit sweater, the jeans he wore slightly baggy. "Alright....the office is all cleaned up. Well..." He looked at the bed in the room and scowled. 

"There's one lingering mess to pick up." Xans was sprawled out on the bed, his right leg hanging off the side as he snored loudly. He was wearing a white t-shirt that simply said 'My lazy shirt' and was back in his usual shorts. His white hair was a mess, splayed out under his head as he had his right arm on the pillow. "Hey, Xans!"

"Nghfh......leave me alone....I smell....bacon...." Lost smirked and grabbed his phone, hitting the record button. "Mmmnh.....I wanna....eat the pancakes.....the ones with....with steak and eggs...." Lost snickered under his breath. 

"Cookies....lotsa....caramel and...and.....mmmmm...."

"Xans, you need to wake u-"

"Heh......Lost.....yer all messy...." Lost's cheeks darkened as Xans lazily licked his lips. "Lemme...lick that all up fer yah...."

"Xans! Wake up!" Lost turned the phone off and shook him. The albino grumbled and peeked his green eye open, irritated. "Y-You...ah....you were....umm...." Lost coughed and stood straight up. "I-I need to clean the sheets!"

"Mmnh....do it later....." Xans yawned and curled back up, his legs tangled in the bed sheets. "Still....sleepy..."

"Xans it's 2 in the afternoon." Lost crossed his arms, tapping his slippered foot in irritation. "Get the hell up or I'm making you."

"Mmmnh...dead or alive....ya'll never get me...." He mumbled. Lost scowled and gripped his Soul with his blue magic, flipping him off the bed. Xans smirked and suddenly, large blue rhombus shaped wings sprouted from his back. He hovered in midair before landing. "Aww c'mon Lost. Ya know I was just messin'." Lost stared, the rag in his hand forgotten and falling onto the floor. "What?"

"I...I just....I've never seen your wings before." He admitted softly. Xans floated down in front of Lost and watched as he carefully reached out, touching his wings. Lost felt the smooth surface of his wings, watching them twitch a bit. They flickered in the room before vanishing, Xans's bare feet gently touching the floor. 

"Wow..."

"Well they are made data and code." Xans chuckled as his tail whipped out. "I'm surprised ya've never seen them before. Thought ya had." His tail began to poke Lost in the cheek and he smacked it away. "Aww, it likes ya~!"

"Xans, c'mon." Lost laughed slightly despite his irritated look and grabbed it. He grinned as he stroked it and Xans felt like his whole body was struck by lightning. He moaned slightly and Lost's grin widened. "Oh.....you like that? Or does your tail like it~?"

"Y-Ya shit! L-Let it g-ungh~...." Lost gave it another stroke, his smile wide as he brought it to his mouth. "N-No~...." Xans felt his legs shake a bit as Lost's soft, pink tongue dragged along his tail, making him squirm as his member grew hard. F....fuck.....shit....... "Y-yer.....dirty...."

"You asked for it...." Lost chuckled softly. "Besides...I can't let you be in charge all the time....now can I?" Lost continued to stroke and play with his tail, nipping and kissing it as Xans growled, his fingers grabbing the bedpost of their newly bought bed, scratching at the wood. "Feel good?"

"Nnn......uh....huh...." Xans's blue tongue lolled a bit and he felt his member throb as Lost whispered against his tail. Suddenly, Lost let go and Xans blinked. 

"H-Huh?"

"No more unless you do some chores."

"Y-Ya dirty little-" Lost walked up and placed a hand firmly on his erection, making him moan. "F-fuck you~...."

"Hmm.....maybe later." Lost whispered in his ear. "Or maybe it's my turn, mm?"

Fuck...why the fuck is he so hot right now? Xans thought as Lost's hand squeezed and stroked his clothed erection. "Nnnnfhhhuuuucckkkk......" Lost kept squeezing until he came hard in his pants, falling to his knees. "Y...yer.....a little minx, eh Lost?"

"Well..." Lost kissed his neck, biting it softly as Xans's tail coiled around his waist playfully. "I can't let you have all the fun, can I?"

"I dunno....you being so assertive is quite the turn on..." Lost moved away, his cheeks pink and eyes looking at the corner of the room. "Heh, ya look cute like that too."

"J-Just clean the room ok? I gotta go help get lunch ready." Lost huffed, heading out of the room. Xans stood up and looked down at his shorts, now stained with his cum.

Fucking hell....gotta shower first. He headed to the bathroom and undressed, his mind wandering. Hmm...so he's never seen my wings until know, eh? I have an idea....

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"Where are we going?"

"Just be patient Lost."

"It's kinda hard to be patient when you have me in a fucking blindfold here Xans."

"Well ya need to be patient."

"You bound my hands too."

"Eh, thought ya'd appreciate some foreplay."

"Foreplay?!"

"Hahahahaha!" Xans stopped once they reached their destination and undid Lost's hands. "I didn't want ya takin' it off. Thought ya trusted me."

"It's not that I don't trust you Xans." Lost huffed, his eyes still covered by a thick, black blindfold. "But when you walk up to me, asking me if i like 'bondage' and then do this, how can I not be a little suspicious of what you were going to do?" Xans simply chuckled and undid the blindfold, but covered his eyes and kissed the skin behind his ear, making him shudder a bit. "X-Xans..."

"Are ya ready? I'm gonna show ya something." He whispered. "I'm willin' ta bet you'll like it~...." He uncovered Lost's eyes and the young man stared.

"W....wow...." They were on a large, grassy hill just outside the city. Lost could see the city lights below and in the distance, shimmering almost like grounded stars. The moon was high above them, full and bright. Lost took a few steps forward, his eyes wide with awe. "This......just...."

"When I first got 'ere, I found this spot when wanderin' around." Xans explained. "It has a beautiful view durin' the day...but at night....it's near enchanting." Lost nodded and continued to gaze at the scenery. Xans's eyes turned to Lost and his own eyes widened a bit. Lost's skin seemed to almost glow in the moonlight, his hair softly swaying in the cool, autumn breeze. The city lights shone brightly in his red and blue eyes, making them shine with life and amazement. He was wearing his usual blue hoodie and basketball shorts, his pink slippers on his socked feet. "Beautiful...."

"Hmm? You say something?" Lost turned his head and Xans shrugged. Xans moved behind Lost, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in soft, black, white tipped locks. "Xans..." Lost brought his own arms up to hold the other's, their fingers intertwining. "This is a rather beautiful spot."

"Yeah...but it's even better the higher up ya are." Lost cocked his head and yelped when he was lifted bridal style. "Wanna see?"

"Xans, put me the fuck down!" Lost struggled in his tight grip before pouting, arms crossed. "What are you sch-" Xans jumped off the steep side of the hill, and the two began to plummet. "AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" Xans grinned and his large, data wings appeared and he flew up high, Lost clinging to him as his chest heaved.

"Ha! Ya should see yer face!"

"You motherfucker!" Xans just laughed and felt Lost's arms wrap around his neck. "You're so gonna pay for this later."

"I'm counting on it." Xans smiled and leaned down, kissing Lost gently. The albino responded instantly, humming in the gentle lip lock. The two remained there for awhile until Xans began to fly higher, giving them both a large view of the land around them. "It's always nice, being up this high."

"Yeah...it makes everything look so small." Lost commented. Xans raised a brow and Lost shrugged. "Although the wind is getting a bit stronger."

"Yeah, we'll head back." Xans began to fly down when his wings flickered. 

"What? Sh...oh shit....shit!" He tried to go faster when his wings suddenly vanished. Oh fuck no!!!! Both boys began a freefall, Xans holding Lost as tight as he could. "Shit Lost! Hang on alright?!"

"Hang on to what?! We'll be killed at this height!" Lost snapped as they fell faster. Lost looked at Xans and felt his heart clench. Xans's eyes were filled with a sense of dread, and he felt a hand on his cheek. "Xans....hang on."

"H-" Lost spun in the air, now holding Xans as large, bright wings burst from Lost's back, stopping their descent. Xans blinked a few times, in shock before looking at Lost.

"Can you...uhh...adjust yourself a bit? You're kinda hard to hold like this..." Lost was holding him with his arms around his stomach, Xans's arms and legs hanging in the air. "Please?" Xans nodded and moved around, holding onto Lost. He could see Lost's large wings and his eyes widened at their size.

They've gotta be at least four feet long! He thought. The feathers were large, light blue in shade with red tips, as if they had all been dipped in blood. Lost landed gently on the ground, being careful to place Xans down. "Holy shit....ya have wings."

"Y-yeah...." Lost mumbled, his wings tucking behind him gently. "Sorry I never showed them before, but with their size-"

"That ain't the only reason, is it?" Lost flinched a bit as Xans moved around. 

"May I?" Lost nodded softly and Xans touched the feathers, feeling them glide along his fingertips. As he touched Lost's wing bones, the young man shivered a little, his wings quivering. "Sensitive~?"

"S-Stop it." Lost huffed.

"Why hide these? They look...stunning." Xans said, walking back around as Lost's wings vanished.

"I just....it's something I just wish to forget." He admitted. "I don't like who I was. I was...." He shook his head and looked into Xans's eyes. "Please....please stop asking. Don't make me talk about it..." Xans looked into Lost's pleading eyes and nodded.

I suppose I can understand....if his past is that bad, then perhaps, fer once, it's best to leave it be. He decided and moved in close, kissing Lost and threading his fingers through his hair. He pulled the young man closer to him as they deepened their kiss, their soft moans mixing with the sound of the forest they had landed in. I've gotten soft....but....I wouldn't change a damned thing....

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"I am growing bored with waiting Vassssssssriel!" Vlowey snapped as the two floated in a large, dark space, purple strings of numbers and symbols flickering around them. "When will we get a chanccccccccce to play?"

"Soon Vlowey.....very soon." Vasriel grinned, holding his hand out. He relaxed as he watched Lost and Xans kiss on his screen, then the two began to walk off. He could hear their playful arguments and soft flirting, smirking as Lost blushed and Xans's face broke out into a true, genuine smile. "I think we'll be able to have a little fun shortly."

"About fucking time! I grow weary of thissssssssssss placcccce!" Vasriel chuckled as he turned to his partner, the flower scowling.

Heh....yes. I think it's time for us to move soon.....just a little longer.... He finished an email and sent it, a grin on his face as his eyes lit up with malice and glee. Very soon.....

Little Bird (Hawks x Yandre Reader)

Includes: Non con, yandre reader

Quirk: Swallow (the type of bird): you have a pair of wings and two long tail feathers.

Your first day at the hero agency. You were looking forward to this. The number two and number five heroes working together? It would make news halfway across Japan. The crime rate would be next to none in the city you two resided in. Last week, you had interviewed to be a partner to Hawks, in the business sense, of course. His real name was Keigo Takami. He was a handsome guy, perhaps the hottest dude you had ever seen, and you were instantly infatuated. Luckily, he had taken a shine to you as well, though perhaps not in the way you liked. “Birds of a feather have to stick together, right?” He had joked. How many times had you heard that? All your life people had thrown bird jokes and insults your way. He had to have the same experience, but here he was, dishing it out. You rolled your eyes. On your way out of the interview, one of his secretaries remarked quietly to her friend, “Oh, great, another bird brain.” Hawks did not care, and just went up to her and struck up a conversation about some random thing. She was in your way. You would need to take care of her.

The first week went by, and as you expected, crime rates were near nothing, so you had nothing to do but greet fans and make public appearances with Hawks. Since he was so outgoing, next to him you seemed timid, shy, and kind. Slowly, you flirt with him a bit, until it becomes nearly obvious. He seemed perhaps uninterested in you, or more focused in his work. Either way, he never makes any comment that could lead that he likes you back, other than things that he says to all. One thing you had noticed, was that every time you called him sir, he would become flustered. “You have wings, but can’t use them? That’s odd. How did you even get to the fifth hero spot like that?” He asked. “Sir, I never really needed them, with my eyesight and hearing, not to mention my fast reflexes. Besides, what if I tried and fell?” You looked up to him for guidance. He cleared his throat, blushing. “Well, first of all, please don’t call me sir. Second of all,” he took a step away from you. “Don’t look at me like that. And third, I’ll show you how to use your wings,” he decided for you, letting your feathers from your wing stretch between his fingers. It felt odd, almost intimate. No one ever touched them. You stiffened up.

“Hawks, not like this! I’m not ready!” You wailed from the roof of the skyscraper. How had he dragged you up here, again? It was just after your hero agency had closed, at nine. It was dark out. “You’ll be fine! Just jump and spread your wings like a little birdie!” He made dumb flapping motions with his hands. You sighed, clinging to the pole as if it was a raft in the ocean. He came over and pried you off of the metal. “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll catch you. You know of my trademark speed, obviously.” He flashed you a smile with a winking eye. That guy was sure something. What, exactly, you did not know. Caught up in your thought, he took the chance to push you off the roof. Time seemed to stand still as you saw him practically push you to your death, the traitor. You gave him a murdorous look and gave out a very undignified screech as you plummeted to your certain doom. “Spread your wings!” Hawks reminded you, shouting. The ground was coming up at you too fast. You were going to be nothing but a splat on the ground. You curled into a ball, as if a cannonball on concrete. Surprisingly, there was no pain. You slowly lifted your wings’ feathers off your eyes to see what was going on. You were… flying? No, your wings were still curled up. Hawks’ strong arms were carrying you, his wings beating and flying in a way you were sure yours never could. Seeing that you were okay, he flew up higher than the building. “Are you ready to try again?” You nodded, and he dropped you. This time, you knew he would catch you. You took in a few deep breaths, caught in free fall, and let your wings unfurl. At least you were trying instead of chickening out. Sadly, you just kept tumbling, unable to angle your wings like a real bird. As you got closer to the ground, you started panicking, and spread your wings out as far as possible. It slowed your fall, but it was not enough. Hawks soared under you and caught you, not even taking a heavy breath as he simply continued flying, leaving you at the entrance of the building. “You almost had it! Next time, try using those tail feathers for balance. Or perhaps try off a takeoff from the ground a few times before doing that again? I don’t want to scare you again.” The next words out of his mouth sent shivers down your spine as he leaned in close, golden eyes staring at you, his lips ghosting over yours. “...unless you’re into that type of thing?” All too quickly, he had put your feet back down on the ground, and had flown away into the dark sky.

Everyone in the office seemed pretty upset the next day. Apparently, a villain had killed one of your secretaries. Sure, your popularity had dropped, since you could not even keep someone that worked in the same building as you safe, but things happen. Thankfully, everyone forgot about her and got over it.

Hawks invited you over to his house. It was so out of the blue, you had almost declined, but you could not say no to the chance to be with him. He did not name a specific occasion, nor did he say it was for a date. Now you stood next to your closet, trying to figure out what was appropriate to wear. You decided to wear your favorite outfit, hoping it would be okay.

When you got to his house, you realized how rich the man was. It was ginormous. Being the second most popular hero has its perks. You, on the other hand, had no clue how much you had since most of it went directly to savings. Perhaps you should check it out. You pressed the button on the large black iron gate, hoping it was a doorbell of sorts. The spiked on the top of the gate seemed intimidating, and there were many security cameras. The gates swung inwards quickly with a snap. You walked in, and Hawks greeted you with an open door. The inside of his house was quite odd. He looked up to what you were staring at. “This used to be an old firehouse, before I renovated it. As you can see, I took out the fire pole.” You saw what he meant. When you stood under it, you saw that the hole still went up through all five floors of his house, with each floor being about fifteen feet high. “How do you get up to the other floors?” You asked, feeling dumb as soon as the words were out of your mouth. He looked at you as if you might be stupid too. “I fly. And the only other person that I bring here sometimes; her name’s Mirko, can jump that high.” Wow. What type of quirk could make someone jump that high? Too bad that you could not fly like that. The two of you ‘hung out’ as Hawks would have put it, not really doing anything but staying on the bottom floor and talking. The next week, he had invited you again. You noticed that he had just put in an elevator. How rich could he be to put in an elevator in a week? When you asked him about it, he mumbled snippets of answers, like “Well I would have needed to get one eventually.” That day he let you explore his big house. He even had a pool on the roof. That seemed a bit structurally iffy, but it seemed to work. He even let you see his bedroom.

You had stalked Hawks for about a month now, and you were ready to go on with your plan. You knew you were insanely in love with him, but it could not be helped. You needed him, but you did not have the courage to tell him that you liked him. What if that ruined your friendship? No. Instead, you had come up with a better way to see him. You knew that it was weird, but you felt the need to do it.

Since you had already been there twice before, you easily avoided the numerous cameras and security measures, keeping your wings tucked in close. You climbed silently up his terrace, feeling like the Romeo to his Juliet, or the prince to his Rapunzel. Sadly, his room was on the fifth floor, and the trellis only reached the third floor. You would have to fly from here, and carefully.

You had secretly trained your wings since Hawks had helped you realize that perhaps they were for something better than just being pretty. You were only able to go short distances, built you could fly. Doing a straight line upwards would still be too hard. You started having doubts about how well your plan was going to work. You decided to fly in a diagonal pattern up to the floor, hoping that it would work. You beat your wings hard to get the momentum to propel yourself upwards. There was no wind to help you either.

You land silently on his balcony, wings spread wide to balance. You pick the lock easily, and you hope the hinge does not squeal. You shut the door slowly, and sigh in relief. The hard part was over. You turned to see Hawks. His feathers practically shone in the moonlight, his breaths light and quick. He never awoke once. When you realized what a heavy sleeper he was, you returned a few times.

One night, you took your normal position kneeling next to his bed, and realized something. To your delight, he was not wearing any clothes. Your hungry eyes roved over his naked body, studying the way his muscles moved as he breathed. Since he had never awoken before, touching him could not do anything, right? You gently placed your hand on his beautiful chest, and slowly trailed it down to his abs, your hand landing slightly on his v-line. Would you dare peek? Your curiosity got the better of you, and you looked down. Oh. He must be having a wet dream, because on the top of his length there was a wet pool of moisture. Surprisingly, the handsome guy never brought any pretty girls home, so you would have to help him out. You were more than happy to do just that, reaching down and squeezing him. From then on, almost every other night you ‘help him out’, sometimes even letting him inside of you.

Sadly, this took a toll on your body. During the day, you were tired, unable to concentrate well. If it pleased him, why would a little sleeplessness matter, you told yourself. Every day after you had slept with him your eyelids would fall in the middle of the workday, no matter what you were doing. Frequently, you found your assistant shaking you awake to deal with a villain. Your trips to his house were much less frequent.

“Hey, Y/N. We need to talk.” Hawks said. He laced his fingers together, as if gathering his thoughts, wondering what to say. “What’s disturbing you?” You said in your sweetest voice. He ruffled his hair. “It’s just that… you seem tired and unfocused lately. I can try and help. I’m here for you, you know.” You nodded. “Thanks, but it appears something is bothering you, not me. Out with it, Hawks.” He seemed hesitant. When was he ever hesitant? When you gave him a small smile, he cracked. “Well, I suppose it is a bit weird to talk about around another person, but for some reason, I feel better this month than I ever have. I’ve been having this dream that this angel of the night comes into my room and… well…” he struggled for words. “...sleeps in my bed. I’ve been having this dream for awhile. It’s was just so realistic. I didn’t even long for my ex anymore, they felt so real. Nothing like that could happen in real life, right? I mean, all my security and stuff, not to mention I sleep on the top floor. It used to happen almost every night, and after the dream was done, I would wake up feeling better than I ever had. But now, it’s gone, and the night is dreamless.” He flopped down onto his swivel chair.

Not wanting him to get suspicious, but happy he confided in you, you say, “Well, with all the security you have, I’m sure, there is no way that anyone could possibly get into your bedroom without you knowing, sir.” He nods and dismisses you. At least you knew that he enjoyed what you did. Once you had gotten well rested, you went back over to his house for another night of ‘fun’. As you get on top of him, he moans. “Songbird please.” You freeze, but realize that he is still asleep, his breath even. He never said that before. How cute. You continue to pleasure him, unaware of the black orb camera hidden in the corner that has been watching you every time you came into his room or left.

With an ending like that, I’m thinking of making a part two. Let me know in the comments!

Part 2: https://holdmyowos.tumblr.com/post/649615062271688704/escape-hawks-x-reader

Ghosts of Venice

Language: English

Characters: Nico di Angelo (Percy Jackson Series), Ezio Auditore (Assassin’s Creed)

Summary:

While trying to find out more about his past, Nico di Angelo travels to Venice where he meets a shadowy figure, the ghost of an assassin. The self titled Ghost King is rather used to commanding the spirits of the dead, unfortunately this ghost seems intent on giving him advice, whether he wants it or not.

The spirit of Ezio sees a lot of himself in a young teenager, who's come to Venice looking for answers and has the shadow of death over him.

Word Count: c. 2 500

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32877292

Nico stared down at the people passing by on the streets and tried to piece it with the fragments of memories he’d slowly been recovering. Had Venice (Venezia) been this busy when he had lived here all those years ago with his mother and Bianca? Did they have quite so many boats (and quiet so large)? If he walked through the streets long enough, would he find the house that he had once lived in? Would he know it? His mother had been the daughter of an ambassador, she must have been somewhat important and the house somewhat grand but that didn't narrow down his options. Nico wondered who lived in what used to be his home. Might he have cousins and if so, did they now live there?

The answer would have been to walk the streets and see if any memories resurfaced and that had been Nico’s intent but even in the dead of winter he felt like there were too many tourists. Nico did not mind the bitter cold that blew in from the mountains carrying flecks of snow that were not confined to the mountainous hillside but neither did the visitors. They just pulled their gloves and coats closer around them. Nico stared down at his own hands, a slight purple tint to them. Like so many things, he could ignore it but his body was annoyingly physical and took repercussions. Unfortunately he had no lira to his name (Nico frowned, it was the euro now) and while he was not opposed to a little bit of theft, he'd rather avoid it if possible.

Crossing his arms, he pressed his fingers against his sides with a begrudging awareness that loosing his fingers to frostbite would likely be to his detriment. His dark gaze returned to the city below him. It would be quieter once the evening set in.

“È bella, no?” A voice asked.

Nico jumped, nearly falling off of the tower he was perched on. Behind him was a white robed, a pointed hooded casting a strange shadow over his eyes which glittered uncomfortably bright in the darkness. There was the stench of death around the man and not just because he himself was not counted amongst the living. Nico could tell that this spirit, who ever he was, had killed many people. It clung to him, a miasma upon his very being but he did not seem bothered.

The more pressing concern though, was that somehow this spirit had managed to appear without his notice. That was something the son of Hades was not used to. Far down below him he could sense the lares, angry spirits that seemed so endemic to Italian cities and they had generally accepted his orders to keep back. This ghost seemed completely unbothered by the aura Nico was giving off. Another reason to be cautious.

“What are you?” Nico growled, pulling out his sword and pointing it straight at the ghost’s chest. Most would shy away from Stygian Iron but this figure seemed unbothered as he moved to stand next to Nico, who’s sword followed the ghost’s movements but he just stared out across the city.

“I have been many things but what I am more than any is a free spirit.” He answered, turning to look down at Nico and pushing the hood down to reveal young features, he couldn’t have been much more than eighteen and there was a certain carefreeness to him . It did not put Nico at ease.

“Nobody is free.” He said slowly. The stranger gave him a look that stunk of pity. Nico jabbed his sword forward, stopping shy of the ghost’s chest.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He growled.

“If you think that this is the first time I’ve had a sword pressed to my chest, you would be sadly mistaken, piccino. But perhaps your question should not be what am I but why am I here?”

“Don’t talk to me in such a familiar way.” Nico snarled, doing his best to force the ghost to leave. The Undead were his domain and they would listen to the son of their master. The teen sighed and leant against the wall.

“I too came here with much anger and hatred in me. Anger at the world, at the failure of justice and most of all anger at myself although I did not know it then.”

“I don’t feel that.” Nico said stiffly although he could feel a rising panic. Had he summoned this spirit without realising it? He should have a stronger grasp over his powers but this man seemed to know too much about him and if he had summoned him that would explain not realising until he was here.

“Hm.” The shade agreed, staring back out at the city.

“Who were you?” Nico asked as an uncomfortable silence lapsed between them. He may prefer the company of the dead but even they grated on him if they wouldn’t bend to his will.

“My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze, although I doubt you have heard of me. If you had, I would have rather failed in my work.”

“What did you do?”

“I was an assassino.” Ezio said as if it were no matter. Nico looked out across the city and wondered about the angry shades down there.

“I gave my victims their rites. They should not linger.” Ezio assured, guessing the direction of his thoughts although Nico wasn’t so sure in the truth of Ezio's words – he had met some very stubborn and angry spirits during his time in this world. Again he felt the urge to ask this shade what exactly was he but that had gotten him nowhere. Instead, he got the feeling that Ezio would be cryptic when it suited him (never trust spirits, they always had an ulterior motive, usually wanting life).

“Do you want something?” He blurted out. Ezio was not leaving and seemed to have every intention on staying. It was irritating when he was here to be alone, couldn't the spirit take a hint by Nico sitting alone in the tower? Of course, he could shadow travel out of here but Nico did not particularly relish the idea of having fled from a spirit. It set a bad precedence.

“I do not want anything but to offer my advice and support.” Ezio said and he looked at Nico with a gaze that stopped his heart. The smile on his face was warm and accepting, just like Percy when he smiled with his friends. Nico’s hand clenched and the stones beneath his feet began to tremble. Not ideal when you were in a tower.

“I do not need help. I do not need advice.”

“I find the people who don’t need help are perhaps the ones who most require it. I certainly wish I had thought to ask for help more. I was not as alone as I thought I was and I would have been happier to not remain in my solitude.”

“Maybe I like being alone.”

“Perhaps. But if you did, would you insist so much on it?”

Nico frowned. Finally he lowered his sword and took a seat next to Ezio, feet dangling over the edge. It occurred to him that it would be easy to simply slip over the edge and plummet to the earth with just one wrong move. Perhaps he could shadow travel before he hit the ground, perhaps he couldn’t. He wondered whether his father would care.

“I used to live here.” Nico said softly. “But I don’t remember it. I thought by coming here I might get some memories back. My mother and sister…” His voice tightened.

“They are not here.” It was a soft observation.

“My father wiped my memory of my mother…. Of her death. My sister died not long after… Someone I knew failed to save her.” He glared at the ground below.

“A man my father trusted signed his death warrant, and the one for my brothers and myself. It was fortune that I escaped although they did not.” Ezio said, almost easily but there was a catch in his throat. Nico felt his heart ache with that catch and he stared down least Ezio see emotion in his eyes. “It is why I came here. There was a web behind their deaths and it was a web I desired to untangle. Or rather burn.”

“I can’t ki… There is no possibility of vengeance for me.” Nico sighed, head drooping. His mother had been killed by Zeus’ thunderbolt and Bianca had died killing the automaton that killed her and while it was Percy who had failed to save her... He was Percy. It left him feeling somewhat empty.

“That may be just as well. Vengeance made no man happy.”

“It would be a good first step though.”

“I cannot count how many I killed in the name of vengeance, only to realise that killing those who had wronged me would not bring peace. It takes greater courage and strength to build, il mio giovane amico, than it does to tear down. I realised that only too late in life.”

Nico’s nose wrinkled at the familiarity this man had slipped into.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Then perhaps you should tell me. Or someone.” Ezio said gently. He may be a ghost, but the wind ruffled his hair.

“No one would understand.”

“Perhaps that is the great thing about talking to one who is already dead. Does it matter whether I understand or not?”

“Will you leave me if I tell you?”

It wasn’t a plead. It was exasperation, Nico told himself. And it certainly wasn’t a desire to push someone away so he could mope in solitude and generally feel bad for himself. What did it matter that this long dead man had lost his family. Ezio was dead and not living with the realities of it. Ezio had been able to get vengeance and was happy like Percy. His fingers twisted the ring and perhaps he should have felt that but apparently they were numb now.

“If that is what you still desire.”

Nico frowned, thinking. Ezio was dead and if there was one thing that the dead were good at, it was keeping secrets. What was more, he had been an assassin and that sort were notorious about taking their secrets to the grave. Still…

“And you were not sent by my father?”

“Your father?”

“Hades.”

Ezio frowned and leaned back so he was stretched precariously on the wall. If he’d been alive, a small nudge would have been enough to send him plummeting.

“I have not met Hades in my life or my death. The only fortune I had was to once meet the goddess Minerva.”

Nico frowned.

“You mean Athena?”

“She informed me she has had many names.”

Nico made a note to ask his father about that. He’d never thought about how the Roman gods were so similar to the Greek ones.

“That means… you were mortal. As in not a demigod?” Almost all the ghosts he spoke with had ancestry with one of the gods. They tended to leave more of an impact and he certainly would rather understand the enigma of this spirit that he could not control.

“You would be the second godly figure I have met.” Ezio smiled. It was too warm and friendly.

“I wouldn’t say I was godly.” Nico muttered. “I’m the son of Hades. That kind of puts a damper on any relationships I might he able to have. Who wants to hang out with someone who’s more comfortable with the dead and darkness? I can see the fear in their eyes when I turn up at meals, how they shift uncomfortably away from me at the fire in the evening. No one wants me because I don’t belong. No one wants a reminder that death will come to them eventually.”

“I may not know what it is like to be the son of a god of the dead, but I know what it is to be an assassin and to many I was the kiss of death. I could have chosen to walk alone and in many ways, I had. I could have had love, for so many did love me and I would have only given my love too freely, yet I kept my ways to myself and pushed those I had left away.”

“I have no one left.”

“You have your father.”

“He’s… busy. And I don’t exactly get on with Persephone.”

Ezio placed a ghostly hand on Nico’s shoulder and he flinched. It was warm and suddenly he felt filled with promise and hope. He felt Ezio’s anguish as he pushed his way towards the gallows only to hear his family drop to the jeers of the crowd. He felt the young man’s burden as he guided his traumatised mother and sister to the only place left to them. Nico could feel his anger as he killed his childhood rival that had helped put in place the events that had caused everything to go wrong. He saw the deaths that Ezio had caused in his grief and determination. He could feel the drive that corrupted the carefree youth who had once run over the tiles of Florence. And he saw the love that fought within Ezio’s chest. He felt the love and companionship that Ezio had found with Leonardo Da Vinci and the Thieves. The growth from anger to acceptance and wisdom. The realisation that he could trust his sister to defend herself and mend that bond tossed aside decades ago. The warmth of brotherhood and found family that built around that. Ezio’s knowledge in his dying moments that his greatest achievement had been what he had built and not torn down and he was happy with that.

“You care greatly, although like me, you believe that it is not something that you can’t allow yourself to feel.”

Normally these things weren’t a two way streak and Nico pressed his lips together. That was too presuming of Ezio, to read his own feelings and heritage.

“I don’t care.” But his words did not have their usual bite.

“I think you do, Nico di Angelo. You have put so much of yourself into helping others at the expense of yourself and I do not see this being something you can escape. You care deeply yet you do not let them know all you have risked. Do you know what the creed of the Assassins was?”

Nico shook his head and Ezio rose to his feet, standing on the edge of the tower.

“We work in the dark, to serve the light.” A ghost of a smile went over his lips highlighting a scar that glistened in the weak winter light. With a pang, Nico felt a kindred spirit. He gave Ezio a nod.

“Until we meet again.”

The shade leapt into the air, arms outstretched as if he could fly. He twisted through the air and Nico stared after the descending figure who shifted into shadow moments before he would have hit the ground had he been alive.

your love is my turning page

(based on “Turning Page” by Sleeping at Last because I listened to it the other day and cried like...twice)

tw: whump, major character ‘death’, blood mention, canon typical violence but only briefly, snuggling, fluff

---

Geralt cradled the bard’s body gently against his chest as he exited the keep, which was burning to a massive stony heap behind him. His amber gaze was blank and his mouth formed a thin, grim line as he moved steadily towards the side of the path ahead, where Roach and the sorceress were waiting for his triumphant return. How disappointed they would be.

Yennefer gasped and covered her mouth with her hand when she finally saw what Geralt was carrying, her tone utterly disbelieving. “No, Geralt. Tell me it isn’t true. Please tell me that he isn’t-”

“We didn’t make it in time, Yen.”

“Geralt, I’m-”

“It doesn’t matter,” the Witcher interrupted again. His voice was toneless and his eyes were glazed and empty when he spoke. Yennefer worried her lip between her teeth, mouth still hidden by her hand. She reached out for Geralt with the other but he growled and flinched away from the contact, “Don’t.”

“Just let me-”

“Don’t touch him, Yen!” the Witcher bellowed, curling his arms up and holding the bard’s limp form against his chest. Tears leaked from his eyes, slow and impossible in their appearance (Witchers physically cannot cry, or so he’d thought). They made their way down his stubbled cheeks and fell noiselessly to the ground. Some of them hung from the end of his nose for a moment before plummeting. Some dropped down to form damp, grey marks on the material of the bard’s half-open chemise. A chemise covered in dark, drying smears of blood.

Jaskier’s blood.

Too much of Jaskier’s blood. 

The Witcher fell to his knees in a patch of flowers and pulled the broken form of his best friend even tighter to him. “I...I’m sorry I was too late this time,” he murmured against the crown of Jaskier’s clammy forehead. His slender, long-limbed body still hadn’t gone entirely cold yet despite the blood-loss. “Gods, I’m so sorry.”

There were marks carved all over the bard’s torso, oozing blood through the thin material of his shirt; Geralt had seen the bloody sigils glowing faintly before he’d killed the crazed mage who’d put them there. The Witcher had pulled Jaskier’s shirt back down to cover his wounds and absconded with him, casting a careless Igni on his way out the door. 

The mage had needed a human sacrifice. The mage had chosen Jaskier.

Yen placed a gentle hand atop Jaskier’s unmoving shoulder and Geralt heard her empathetic sigh. “I’m sorry, Geralt.”

“I waited nearly a hundred years for someone to come along and show me what love was supposed to feel like and I’d wait a million more; but only for him,” the Witcher admitted. There was no reason not to admit things, now, when he couldn’t ruin anything between them. He laid the bard’s body down beside a small patch of daisies and buttercups and let the aching, burning tears continue their cascade down his face. He didn’t say anything more for a moment; words had never been his strong suit.

“Tell him now,” Yen suggested, her own voice watery with emotion, “Tell him everything. I’ll give you a moment alone.”

Yen wandered a few steps into the treeline to give them privacy, to give Geralt a moment alone with his paralyzed but absolutely not dead bard. She smirked to herself and wiped the forced tears from her eyes. Like taking candy from an enormous, stupid baby. Can he not hear the faint beating of his little bard’s resilient human heart?

“I’d give anything to see you smile at me again, Jaskier. I’m so, so sorry that we didn’t make it to you in time. I’m sorry that you died like this, for the sake of a greedy, power-hungry asshole. You were so bright. You brought so much happiness to the Continent. You brought so much happiness to me.”

Geralt, still kneeling next to Jaskier’s limp form, brushed a stray lock of brown hair behind the bard’s ear and felt a primal sense of loss wrap around every individual piece of his shattered and slow-beating heart. “If only I could have caressed your skin as softly as I often dream of doing. If only I could have felt your warmth in such a simple, human way. You made me stronger every time you coveted my weaknesses, you know. Even when I failed, you stayed at my side and told me how strong and kind I was. How brave I was. Your heart was so delicate and human and fragile. You forced me to work every day to improve myself. I would have done anything to keep you from breaking under the weight of this awful world and yet-” the Witcher’s voice broke completely and he only barely managed to gasp out “-and yet here we are.”

---

Jaskier could hear everything. The too-sweet paralyzation agent force-fed to him by the evil mage was close to wearing off but until then the bard could only listen as the man of his dreams mourned his apparent death. He could only lay in stunned silence as Yennefer noticed the presence of the mixed herbs and refused to mention them to Geralt. Perhaps this was her gift to Jaskier; perhaps this was an apology. Whatever twisted form of affection she was showing her new friend for now, though, had the bard feeling more than a little upset.

He hated seeing Geralt so worked up. So sad. So hurt.

“I’m going to miss your presence in the world, Jaskier. I’m going to miss the way you smiled when you blushed; gods, I wanted to make you smile at me like that so many times...it was blinding. The way your lip would curl up and your tongue would poke out when you scribbled your poems into that damned expensive notebook at inns or near the fire. Gods, I-”

“I could fix him for you,” Yen offered, returning from the trees. It was almost nonchalant in its casualness. Almost. 

“What’s the price for such an impressive feat?” Geralt asked. He smoothed the bard’s hair back again. He’d need to bury the corpse soon; he could barely stand to look at it any longer. It’s not Jaskier anymore, not without those sparkling eyes and that trembling, velvet voice. 

He’d do anything to hear that voice again, even Jaskier was only cussing him out or calling him every name in the book. He’d listen to a thousand repetitions of every insult hurled his way by every villager across the Continent if it meant Jaskier was saying them with the voice Geralt knew he’d never hear again. 

His voice was low and quiet when he asked the sorceress: “What kind of ingredients would you need for such a task?”

“I would need a sacrifice of equal value. Those runes can only be transferred from one person to another.”

Geralt’s head whipped around and his eyes widened hopefully. “Use me. If that will bring him back then take me.”

“And get horrifically murdered when he wakes to find his darling Witcher dead and buried? No, thank you. I don’t have a death wish.”

Smart woman, Jaskier thought. Just give me the antidote or whatever magical cure I know you’re hiding, Yennefer! Let me up! Let me comfort him, I’ve heard enough!

She’d clearly been listening to his thoughts because just as he summoned the worst of his insults to silently throw her way, Yen relented. She knelt beside Geralt and leaned forward, pressing her palm to the center of Jaskier’s forehead. There was a soft purple glow and Geralt panicked, “What are you doing!? You just said-”

“I lied,” she shrugged. “He was just paralyzed. You should have been able to hear his heart, faint as it was.”

“You...you mean…” Jaskier’s eyes slowly fluttered open and he groaned softly. The Witcher’s eyes were wide and shimmered with new tears as he leaned over the bard’s prostrate figure. “Jaskier?”

“Did-” he coughed and groaned again but pushed on “-did you mean it?”

“Every word,” Geralt smiled shyly. He hadn’t thought Witchers could blush, either, but here they sat; Geralt’s cheeks were pale pink and Jaskier was still heaving out labored breaths.

“Here are some basic healing supplies for the bard’s chest,” Yen interrupted, tossing a linen bag towards Geralt, who caught it easily. “I’m going to be on my way. You two need a moment, seems like.”

“Thank you, Yen,” Jaskier smiled. Geralt glanced between the two but before he could ascertain the bard’s meaning, the sorceress had fled through one of her portals and disappeared. As soon as she was gone, Jaskier let out the loud, anguished cry he’d been holding back in her presence. “Fuck me, this hurts! Fuck!”

“Fucking hells,” Geralt scrambled through the bag for some kind of pain relief. He placed a few drops of poppy tincture at the end of Jaskier’s tongue and lifted him slowly from the ground. “Let’s get you to an inn. I need to treat those cuts and I can’t do it very well in the grass.”

“My big, scary Witcher,” Jaskier smiled, hooking his arms around Geralt’s neck as he was lifted into the White Wolf’s embrace. “Taking care of me so well.”

---

That night, Geralt laid with Jaskier’s head atop his chest. The oddly patterned cuts across the bard’s torso were now covered in salve and bandaged tightly.

“None of my training prepared me for this,” the Witcher admitted, kissing Jaskier’s petal-soft cheek with the utmost reverence. 

“What is this?” the bard asked.

“I am yours,” Geralt stated. It was a simple fact. A fact he’d accepted the moment he realized he hadn’t lost Jaskier forever. The younger man’s face went bright red and he nuzzled closer to his rescuer’s side. Geralt’s strong arm was looped around his back, holding him close. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

“Gladly.”

The bard leaned up and pressed his lips to Geralt’s. It was soft, tender, and endlessly healing. Warmth spread through the Witcher’s body, spreading from his heart to each and every one of his limbs. He pulled the bard completely on top of him and wrapped his arms around the man’s lower back to anchor him. Jaskier crossed his arms over Geralt’s chest and rested his chin there. 

“Though we’re tethered to the story we must tell, When I saw you, well I knew we’d tell it well.”

“Is that your newest composition?” the Witcher asked, running his hand through Jaskier’s soft brown hair as he sang. The bard nodded. 

“It’s a love song. About a Witcher...and a bard.”

“Hmm. I can’t wait to hear it.”

Defying Gravity || Norma & Savannah

Title: Defying Gravity Timing: Nightmare POTW Location: Hanging Rock Parties: @normallee and @savannah-lim  Content Warnings: Hit and run (on monster), reckless driving, Wizard of Oz references

Going for a run or a walk to clear your head. People did that, right? Savannah was way more likely to make regretful sex decisions or have a few strong drinks, but it must have been getting to her head, because she was starting to see really weird shit. Savannah figured a few days off the alcohol would do her some good. She wasn't totally immune from making regretful decisions though, and still managed to snapchat her ex from the clifftop; Apparently they used to hang witches here. Cool, huh? she plastered over the top of a photo of the ocean from Hanging Rock. That definitely wasn’t a shark in the background, right? Nope. Definitely a large seal. “I must be going fucking crazy,” she chuckled to herself before she sent the picture and continued with her hike. She whipped her phone out again to video a flock of birds, curious looking things, probably migrating or something. And what the hell was that big one in the middle? “Holy shit--” she looked around as if checking anyone else was nearby. She’d seen a few dog walkers and bird watchers, so someone had to be close enough to confirm this, right? “Hey! Uh, sorry, hi, excuse me?? Do you see these birds?” Birds, yep, they’re birds, just keep telling yourself that. 

Norma didn’t quite understand why humans were both so insistent on building things up and out and taking over every inch of land they could, while at the same time preserving nature. It truly made no sense. Still, she was told Hanging Rock was a nice place to visit and that many humans enjoyed going there to “get away.” What they were getting away from, she had no idea, but it was nice out there so that was pleasant enough. She sat by the edge of the cliff, legs dangled over the side, swinging them on occasion. The breeze did feel nice and if she sat there long enough, she could almost see the way things used to be about a thousand years ago. Almost. The railings and signs and occasional boat below shattered the illusion slightly. As did the witch flying through the sky. And those things that looked like flying monkies. So annoying. She should really know better to stay out of the way and let the humans appreciate nature in all its splendor. “The birds?” She asked, twisting back towards the woman who seemed a bit frantic. “Oh yes. I saw them. They’re very nice, do you like birds? I’ve been told some people watch them. I’m not entirely certain what they expect to see other than a bird but it’s nice they keep an eye out for them.” Norma turned back to look out in front of her. “It’s such a shame that witch is blocking the view. Really, the audacity.” Norma sighed. Was that witch getting… closer?

Savannah really did enjoy White Crest in a lot of ways, but she was starting to wonder if it would be the death of her, perhaps literally as well as metaphorically. The nightmares, the visions, the hallucinations, it seemed to give her a permanent headache, and in spite of the fact they’d found Javier’s remains, she still wasn’t any closer to solving the case. She was almost desperate for confirmation from the stranger, and yet how could she be sure she wasn’t hallucinating that too. “Witch?!” Savannah’s eyes widened, and she stared at the shape in the sky that twisted amongst the backdrop of clouds and birds. She instinctively took a step back. As the so-called witch twisted and danced on her broomstick among her companions, the sky grew louder with the chattering and squealing of monkeys. “Is that normal for White Crest?!” she asked. A short time ago, that would have seemed like a really stupid question. Now, it was par for the course. 

The woman seemed confused by the word witch. Perhaps Norma had to explain it to her. “Yes, a witch. She’s green and riding a broomstick, see. And yes, most actual witches are not like that but since enough of popular culture has in fact decided that is what a witch looks like, we can both agree that a woman dressed in black with green skin flying on a broomstick is in fact a-- AHHH!” Norma screamed and rolled back as one of the flying monkeys howled and swiped at her head. She pulled herself up and away from the ledge and hid behind the woman. She looked hearty, she was jogging, she had to be athletically skilled in some way. “I’m not aware! I haven’t lived here for very long. I do not think monkeys often fly but I could be mistaken.” Norma squealed as one of the monkeys pulled at her hair. The witch was nearly there, cackling and quite pleased with herself seemingly. “We should remove ourselves from this situation! How do we do so?” Norma asked, panicked, still cowering behind the other woman.

“I know what a witch is! I just don’t expect to see one on my afternoon jog!” Savannah’s words were pointed, her tone and body language erratic. She had really lost her grip on reality. They were going to take the case away from her. They were going to take her whole job away from her. “I don’t know? Run?!” She practically screamed at the stranger, and of course, being that she wasn’t exactly on duty right now, she wasn’t wearing a gun strapped to her hip along with her athleisure wear. Savannah ducked behind a rock, throwing her water bottle at a flying monkey that seemed to cackle as it dove just a little too close. It connected, sending the monkey falling to the ground, useless. But that still left the other dozen or so. She practically grabbed the stranger by the arm, dragging her down with her. “I parked my car over at the other end of the trail. Maybe we can make it.” 

“Well if you know what one is, why are you asking me about them?” Norma shouted. The other woman was running and so Norma did the same as that seemed like the best solution at the moment. “Quick thinking!” she said with a nod as the water bottle decked the monkey that was practically breathing down their necks. It seemed like Norma had hitched her horse with the right wagon, whatever the humans meant by that. “Okay, I think we should just ru--” Her words were cut short by another scream as hands gripped her shoulders and feet wrapped around her waist. Norma reached out to grab her companion, to try and tether herself to the ground, but the monkey’s grip was tight and she couldn't break free. “Help!” she screamed. “Put me down you idiot! I can’t fly! I know it’s very confusing why some furies have wings but they don’t WOOORRRK!” Her voice shifted to another scream as the chattering beast pulled her upwards farther into the clouds. This was bad. Very bad. Norma reached and grabbed her shoe off her foot and tried to slap the animal with it enough to encourage it to let her go. 

This was more of a workout than Savannah had planned for. She knew you were supposed to get your heart-rate up, but this was a little on the extreme side of things. “Hey!” she called as the stranger was hoisted up into the air. She tried to grab for Norma’s hands to pull her back down, but she was gone too quickly for Savannah to stop it. “You little shits!” She scrambled for the water bottle again, for some rocks to throw, for anything that might give them something of a chance. She threw them at the gaggle of primates, which unfortunately disrupted them just enough to drop Norma to the ground. “Oh, shit!” she hurried to Norma’s side, swatting monkey hands out of her hair. “ARGH! GET OFF! Are you okay?!” 

“Let go, let go! Let-- Stop throwing the rocks at me!” Norma shouted at all parties involved, still hitting the monkey with her shoe. She wasn’t sure if it was her shoe or the rocks that encouraged the primate to let go, but it did in fact loosen its grip on her. That was nice of it. She got what she wanted. Then she realized she was plummeting to the ground, wind rushing past her as gravity pulled her back to the earth. Norma screamed and tried to brace herself, covering her head. She hit the ground with a thwack. Gods, there were things definitely broken. Oh no, that hurt. Norma pulled herself off the ground with a groan. She bit down and pulled her lips into a thin line as she popped her shoulder back where it belonged, trying to hold in the squeal of pain. It was very much not her first time doing so, but she never much enjoyed when she had to. If only the whole invulnerable thing meant she didn’t have to feel pain or healed as quickly as some other supernatural species. Then again, injuries aided her in her aim to appear human. The avoidance of what should have been something close to death? Well, that would have to wait. Norma stood up, wincing as she tried to put her weight on her foot, cradling her bad arm with her other. “I’m alive! Do not worry I have not perished! Hold on!” Norma pushed past the pain to grab her other shoe and chucked it at the monkey bothering her companion. It squealed and flew off. “Now please help me to your car before that witch brings that small tornado closer to us.”

“Oh god, oh no, we need to get you to a hospital.” Savannah cringed as Norma clicked her shoulder back into place. Norma’s groan of pain shredded the afternoon air and seemed to give the monkeys pause for a moment, likely due to the surprise of the shrill sound. They twisted and turned in the air, and the witch straddled her broom, waving her arms and cackling as if she were conducting an orchestra. She didn’t have time to worry about Norma’s strange way of speaking. She’d pulled for her phone to call a hospital, but the monkey’s reaction to Norma’s squeal gave her an idea. She covered her head with her jacket to protect her head, turning on the loudest, most shrill alarm sound she could and pointing it up in the air as she ran. She followed the trail, not daring to look back at the small tornado that followed them. “UGH!” She grunted as she tripped on a dip in the dirt path, cutting her palms and, of course, smashing her phone. “Oh come ON!” She winced, pulling herself up. They were almost there. “That one! The silver Honda,” she groaned as she forced herself upright again, leaving her broken phone on the ground as she wrestled through her pockets for her keys. 

“Hospital?” Norma’s eyes went wide and she could feel her heart pounding in her centuries old chest. “Oh, no thank you! I’m sure I’m fine. Look at how very fine I am! I’m alive and breathing, I’m very sturdy like that.” Even in pain, a human hospital was the last pace she needed to land herself. There were too many things to explain and circumvent and truly just simply not going was the best solution. She was unaware of the current plan but hobbling behind her companion was the best she had so that’s what she did. On their way, the other woman tripped and fell. Norma considered leaving her behind, survival of the fittest, or the supernatural in reality. That seemed like a bad thing to do, not the way to make human friends. Norma bent down to help lend a hand to her, pulling her up as they ran to the car. She wasn’t sure what a Honda was but she followed her to the silver car. Maybe all cars were now called Hondas. Norma pulled and pulled on the door. “Faster, please! I would like to hide in your vehicle as soon as possible. Ideally before that tornado hits!” There was a swirl of wind and branches tearing through the trees towards them, witch cackling just behind it. 

“You just… dislocated your arm!” Savannah answered between laboured breaths. She screamed as one of the monkeys grabbed at her hair, smacking at it and letting out a string of incomprehensible curse words before it finally let go. She frantically hit the unlock button on her keys and dove inside. Norma didn’t need any encouragement to hurry. As soon as the doors were closed, she locked them with a swift click. That didn’t stop the witch swirling around them with awful cackling, and the monkeys flying into the windows like bugs on a windshield. Thank God her car had bulletproof glass. The wipers and lights? Not so lucky. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she was getting the hell out of her. She turned the key and put the car in drive, stepping down on the gas and ignoring the awful squelch of what she was sure was a couple of flying monkeys beneath the tires. 

Norma fumbled with the door and threw herself inside the car, wincing as her slightly mangled body found a decently comfortable position. She had barely pulled the strange belt contraption onto her lap when the other woman took off driving. And Norma started screaming, bracing her good arm on the dashboard. “When did motor vehicles start going so fast?!” she shouted as they barreled down the road. “Watch out for the— AHHHH!” Norma looked around out the back window. It was very much a mistake. She saw the flattened bodies of the monkeys that they had run over as well as the swirling tornado headed their way. There was no way they could out run it. Unless… “Turn right!” she shouted. “Go towards the water! Just to the edge. Then stop! I think it’ll work!” Fingers crossed. “We might need to jump out of the car if we want to…” Guess they’d see.

Savannah was a good driver. They did learn car chases in Quantico, but that was a lifetime ago, and these weren’t exactly the conditions she’d tested under. “Fuck, shit, fuck!” She cursed more emphatically under her breath, and then not so under her breath. She couldn’t take her eyes off the--well, it wasn’t even much of a road--but she couldn't take her eyes off it anyway. She was less than thrilled about driving on these precarious cliffs, but she was running on pure adrenaline and did it anyway, half-skidding around the bend as she took a hard right, and skidding again to a halt with grass and rock under the wheels before the tornado blew past them, just a few feet from the window, and off into the ocean. She took a breath, then another, and another, and as quickly as it had turned to chaos, everything was calm again. “Jesus,” she sighed, clutching her chest and leaning back in disbelief. “That was a close one.” Savannah looked over at her passenger to ensure she was unharmed. “Are you okay? I’m Savannah, by the way… didn’t get a chance to introduce myself before Planet of the Apes.”

Norma screamed the entire time they were driving down the way, through the winding path, tornado just behind them. This was not a nice pleasant day in nature. Humans were truly perplexing in their definitions of a good time. She ducked under the dashboard as the tornado blew past and into the water. She peaked out to see a house drop down right next to them, striped stockings sticking out from underneath the porch. “I think the witch is dead. That’s nice. It was a very convenient house. I’m sure that someone will be very happy to live here at this very nice park. I assume the tornadoes only happen with mild frequency.” She turned back to the driver and gave a smile and held out her hand, Oh wait, no, that was the injured one. Right. She held out her other hand to shake. “I’m Norma Lee. It’s very nice to meet you. I’m thrilled you were able to save me from the flying monkeys. I very much hope that house was not yours. Mine is downtown. Would you be willing to drive me back there? Thank you!” She was not sure if this was a normal interaction but hopefully, she made herself a new friend.

The Anarchy Sisters- Chapter Two

I should be sleeping, but I apparently have transformed into Insomnia, because I’m seriously not tired at all. Anyway, here’s the next chapter, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Read on Ao3 here!

~~~~

Chapter Two-

“Phantom, do you have a good visual? We’ve got five minutes and counting, tell us now if you need to move.”

Ingrid’s voice crackled over the headset that Evie Artino had connected inconspicuously to her ear. The eleven-year-old girl was perched on the roof of an abandoned office complex, face hidden behind a mask as she waited.

This mission had been in the works for months. And now, they had one shot to get it right. She shifted slightly, looking over the edge of the roof to the streets below. 

“I’m clear. Nightmare, how’s it going up there?” Evie was part of this really only for damage control. And by damage control, making sure that if everything went right, Ingrid didn’t bring down half the buildings in the city with her bombs. It was Nightmare who was getting the shot. Or, as Evie knew her, Nova. Her big sister.

“I’m nearly in position. Two minutes, tops.” Evie peeked further over the edge, where the sidewalks were lined with rows and rows of screaming, adoring, mindless fans. 

The colors were bright and chaotic, and there were countless kids, children even older than her, who were dressed up in superhero costumes to look like the Renegades. It was sickening. How could they not realize just how toxic all of this was?

The first of the parade floats came into view, accompanied by screams and shouts of joy. A team of Renegades threw candy into the throngs of people, like monarchs throwing gold coins at peasants as they passed. 

“Nightmare?”

“Calm down, I’m on my way.” Another float was coming around the corner, bearing more flashy prodigies for the people to worship. Evie kept her gaze pinpointed at the corner, waiting for the right moment. Across the street she knew that Phobia waited, and Ingrid was just a few buildings down. Nova was waiting further down, at a location and position they’d spent countless hours calculating. She would have seconds, if that. 

And of course, she’d only have that time if she got there when she was supposed to. Evie couldn’t help feeling nervous; after all, if this went wrong, they could likely all be arrested and taken away. 

The next float pulled around the corner, this one containing a group of Renegades with extra limbs or extremities, for the people to gawk and awe over. Evie counted the seconds it took the float to pull all the way around the corner and for the next one to appear.

34 seconds, more or less. Leroy and Nova had done their research and math well. She twiddled her thumbs as she kept counting, kept calculating and reciting formulas in her head. The floats had to be on time- if they weren’t, if they were early, it would spell disaster.

“Nightmare.” This time it was Phobia who spoke. “Where are you? You’ve got 49 seconds to get in position now.”

“I’m getting there.” Nova’s voice crackled over the headset, scratching Evie’s ears from the inside out. 

Evie crossed her fingers and bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to do something, anything, to keep her from losing it here on the roof. She had to make it. She had to, so that way everything would be good again, like it should. So the people could be free, and think for themselves, and the Renegades reign would end-

“10 seconds, Nightmare.” Ingrid’s voice shook with barely contained anger and frustration. Evie trembled in her too-small boots, wrapping her arms around herself and squeezing. Trying to keep her nerves inside her, so she wouldn’t distract Nova, so she’d get there in time-

A deafening roar came from the crowds below, so loud that Evie instinctively clapped her hands over her ears. She glanced down, watching the Council’s float pull around the corner. 

They were all on pedestals, parading like kings and queens. Captain Chromium flexing, Blacklight creating fireworks of pure light, Thunderbird spreading her wings and summoning flashes of lightning.     People screamed and cheered, and even from the height she was at, Evie could see the adoration on their faces. It was disgusting. 

“I’m in position.” Nova’s voice over the headset startled Evie, enough that she stumbled. She caught herself before she fell over into the street, but her mask slipped from her face and clattered onto the sidewalk. 

Evie cursed softly, backing away from the edge. If anyone saw that- oh, she’d be in so much trouble.

Out of the corner of her eye, Evie saw the blur of a dart, shot from a roof across the street. She held her breath as it sailed through the air, headed dead-on for its target: Captain Chromium’s eye.

But he turned his head. Just barely, hardly an inch. It was enough, though. The metal dart bounced harmlessly off his skin, and everyone in the crowd screamed. 

Evie shrank further down on the roof, listening to Nova’s curses crackle through the headset. The connection was sputtering, hissing in her ears as the other Anarchists joined in. 

“Scatter.” Phobia demanded. “Scatter, meet back in the tunnels later. They’ll be searching the whole place in a matter of minutes.”

“Phantom, come with me.” Ingrid demanded. Evie picked herself up from the concrete and ran to the opposite edge from before. Ingrid would be five buildings down. 

As she prepared her escape, screams of terror echoing in her ears, Evie suddenly heard something else.

She looked up. Rapidly rising over the buildings was a hot air balloon. It was crudely decorated, with black markings and red spots that looked similar to Winston’s face. And Evie realized with a jolt that was Winston in the balloon.

More cursing in her headset. He was supposed to stay behind, what was he doing-

“Phantom, get over here. Thunderbird is flying and heading your way.” Evie gulped, looking over the skyline for confirmation. Sure enough, Thunderbird had taken flight, and was slowly coming the tops of buildings. 

She heard more screams from below, and when she looked, she saw Winston leaning out of his balloon, golden strings coming from his fingers. 

Evie took one last glance at both Thunderbird and Winston, and made her escape. Her power flooded through her, making her feel light as air. She slipped through the ceiling effortlessly, as if she were simply floating down.

She was on the ground and solid in about thirty seconds, and then she was running; shoving through the gathered people with her head down and her hood pulled tight over her face.

The screams seemed to follow her as she ran, cries of ‘Anarchists!’ and ‘Puppeteer!’ ringing in her ears.

Her boots slammed on the pavement with every step, but with the massive crowds, it was getting harder and harder to push her way through.

Someone moved slightly as she barrelled towards them, and Evie couldn’t stop herself in time. She and the other person went sprawling on the ground in a heap. In all the commotion, her headset was ripped from her, along with her hood. Evie lay on the concrete, panting, pale skin and dark hair on show for everyone around.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” Above her, a dark-skinned girl who looked around her age held out her hand. Evie glanced at her, then decided better of it and pushed herself up.

“I’m fine. Gotta go-” She started, but the girl cut her off.

“Where are you even heading in such a hurry? You’re going to knock more people down if you keep running like that.”

“I’m fine,” Evie insisted. “And I’ll be more careful. My sister is waiting for me.” That, at least, was a partial truth. 

“Get inside.” The girl said. “If The Puppeteer sees you-”

Now it was Evie’s turn to cut her off. “I’ll be fine. I’m not afraid of The Puppeteer.” The girl looked like she wanted to protest, but she never got the chance. Evie dashed off, this time much more carefully.

Above her she still saw the hot air balloon, and the thin golden strings attached to Winston’s fingers as the man laughed maniacally. 

With her headset gone, Evie could no longer receive information from the others. Ingrid had likely given up waiting on her and had saved her own hide. She knew all the ways to get back to the tunnels unnoticed, and she could get back easily enough.

Even so, she’d rather at least have someone to back her up. Seeing that Leroy was… otherwise occupied, her next best option was Nova. As for Phobia, she’d never go anywhere with him alone unless it was a life-or-death situation.

In the background she heard shouting, sounds of Renegades trying to calm the situation. She couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of her sister; despite the fact she’d missed the big shot, she’d still caused enough chaos to keep everyone occupied.

It was when she looked up again that she saw it: A dark blur jumping from the roof of a nearby building, landing squarely in the basket of the hot air balloon. 

Nova. Evie set her sights on the balloon, dodging screaming people in the streets. As she got closer to the balloon she tugged her hood back over her face, simultaneously shielding her from the sun and keeping others from seeing any identifying features. She couldn’t just go risking her identity, could she now?

The balloon was sinking slightly, careening towards an abandoned apartment complex at the end of the street. Now or never, she supposed.

“It’s Nightmare!” Someone shrieked, pointing at Nova in the basket of the balloon. Evie couldn’t see her sister’s face, not with her matching weighted hood, but she could see the panic evident in her body language.

Evie shoved people aside as she ran for the rapidly descending balloon, hearing people screaming ‘Phantom!’ along with a chorus of other Anarchist names. 

Winston grinned maliciously as he saw Evie approaching, another golden string flashing from his fingertips. Evie’s heart plummeted; Winston could be kind, but when he was in this zone, no child was safe. And that included her, his ally.

She still ran, though she poised herself to leap out of the way should Winston try to string her up like one of his marionette dolls. In the basket, Nova rifled through her pockets; searching for something.

The balloon dropped lower and lower, sinking far enough that Evie could have jumped up and touched the bottom of the basket with her hand. If they didn’t do something soon, the balloon could crash into the streets and people below.

“Come on little Phantom.” Winston mocked. “Can’t you reach us yet?” Evie’s hands curled into fists. She saw red. How dare he. 

The golden thread sprang from Winston’s left pinky finger, growing rapidly and reaching for her. Evie tensed her muscles, ready to dodge The Puppeteer, when she heard a guttural scream.

Nova shoved Winston over the side of the basket with one massive push, sending the older man sprawling onto the concrete. At the same moment, relieved from its weight, the balloon shot back up towards the sky. 

And in the same moment, Evie launched herself forward, reaching for her sister’s outstretched hand. Nova grabbed onto her wrist and held her flush against the basket as the balloon rose back up. 

Below, Evie heard more screaming, more cries of her alias. But all she could think about was not falling from what seemed like a thousand feet in the air. Nova tugged at her, but with the angle she held her, pulling her inside the basket would be difficult. Already she could feel her wrist aching to the point of dislocation.

The balloon cleared the buildings at the end of the street, though Evie could still hear and see the terrified people below them. 

Sweat flowed down her back, from heat and from the sheer terror of heights she’d never realized she’d had until now. Nova grunted from inside the basket, still trying to haul her over the lip.

The crack of a gun pierced the air, and Nova flinched. Evie yelped, feeling herself slipping further. Another gunshot rang out.

With a gasp, Evie felt her whole body become weightless again, and she slipped inside the basket and landed with a thump at her sister’s feet. She’d forgotten about her abilities.

Nova let out a hysterical laugh and collapsed beside her, holding her face in her hands.

“Evie, I’d really like it if you could remember that you have literal intangibility next time you’re hanging out of a hot air balloon.”

Laughter bubbled up from her throat. “Do you plan on there being a next time, Nightmare?”

Nova snorted. “Not unless you want another near-death experience, Phantom.”

The two sisters held each other in the basket of the hot air balloon. And below them, Winston Pratt suddenly found himself surrounded by Renegades, and in a very sticky situation indeed.

Sweet Demons, Part 2 - Zeitgeist/Axel Cluney

Title: Sweet Demons

Description: It's the weekend of Friday the Thirteenth, the biggest motorcycle rally and festival in the Western Hemisphere but nothing is more enticingly chaotic to her than the mysterious new member of the famous Motor City Sweet Demons.

Warning: 18+ Mentions of drugs/alcohol/violence, eventual smut/various kinks

A/N: Fun fact: This was the first major smut scene I ever wrote for Axel/Zeitgeist! 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

  One of the neighbors a couple houses down had music blasting over a PA system that we could hear clearly from the backyard. I was sitting on the edge of the wooden picnic bench and Axel was standing in front of me, shifting his weight from side to side, causing his boots to squeak under the movement. I bobbed my head when the familiar sound of the song Make it Wit Chu by Queens of the Stone Age started playing, a bluesy rock song that was perfect for dancing and even though he had just professed his hatred for dancing, Axel started to do just that. He threw the end of his cigarette from his mouth onto the grass and took my hands, pulling me off of the bench and toward him. Towering over me, his strong arms twirled me and scooped me up, rocked me from side to side and dipped me with ease. I felt like a doll in his arms, nearly weightless. "I wanna make it! I wanna make it with you," Axel sang off-key as he spun me around once more before letting his hand fall down my side to squeeze my hip. "I thought you didn't dance?" I recalled, running my hands flat down his chest, feeling shapes of his skin through the mesh tank top. "I can dance... Doesn't mean I should!" "Oh yeah?" "I also shouldn't be touching Big Al's precious little daughter but," he raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Here I am breaking all the rules." "Bad boy." Axel bit his lip and pulled me closer to him, eyes reading me all over, lips pursed. "Oh, don't you start talking to me like that, little one. You don't know what I'm capable of." "Apparently not," I giggled. "I mean... I want you to keep calling me names and... Fuck... Looking at me like that but I don't think I want to ride with a handful of broken fingers," he said as he looked around the yard, worried somebody might come out at any moment to find us in suggestive proximity. Feeling rather brave from all the alcohol, I threaded my fingers through his and felt the pinch of his metal rings. I pulled on his arm and he couldn't stifle his curiosity. "What? Where are you taking me, huh? This isn't very angelic of you Angel. Leading me into a dark area. Possibly to my death." "Quiet," I shushed him, looking behind us once more to make sure nobody was around to see me taking him to the tool shed. When I slid the aluminum doors apart Axel took one inspecting look in then stretched out his arm, welcoming me to lead the rest of the way. Once inside, he was the one to close the doors while I pulled a flimsy string to turn on the single orange light bulb dangling down from the wooden rafter of the shed. He spun around on the heel of his boot, arms clasped behind his back mischievously. As he approached it became obvious that he was too tall to stand up straight and had to remain slightly hunched over. He looked menacing and the way the light threw over his sharp features cast shadows, carving out his cheeks even more, drawing attention to the plump pair of lips that had been smoothly talking their way into my pants. I jumped the gun and stood on my tiptoes, hands on his tattooed biceps so I could kiss him but he pulled away right before I could. "One second... I just want to clear some things up. You're not just doing this because you're drunk, right?" "No, no. It's fine. I want to," I attempted to run my hands up and over his shoulders again but he held me away at an arm's distance. "Promise me right now,” Axel shook me gently. “Promise me you're going to remember this conversation tomorrow and that you said yes to me." "Axel... Yes. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be." "And don't fucking tell your dad." "Oh shit... You sure? Normally I tell him about every member of his old gang that I hook up with," I chided. "I'm not joking around. Promise me... I don't need any more trouble than I already have." "I promise!" Axel's expression softened and he pulled me closer to him, bringing his lips inches from my face and purred, "Tell me you want me then." "I want you." "Just one more thing" he whispered, using his pelvis to push me further into the shed so that I was pinned right up against a counter, eyeing his mouth with anticipation, wanting so badly to taste it. "Yeah?" He ran his hands down my back and further, gripping my ass in both of his massive palms so he could lift me up onto the workbench. "I don't do relationships. If you want romance, I'm not going to give it to you... But I will fuck you hard and I will make you come." "Okay." "You want me to make you come?" "Yes." "Over and over? "Yes!" "How badly do you want it?" "So badly," I giggled. "Oh, no, no. You're going to have to give me a better answer than that. I know you're nastier than that," Axel's words were slicker than his hair as his hand slid up my thigh and came to rest on the front of my jeans, pausing for an improved answer. "Come on, bad girl. Tell me what you want. Want me to rub that clit for you? Get you real nice and worked up, huh?" I bit my lip and nodded my head, leaning back so Axel could pop open the metal button of my jeans. The material was tight but he managed to work his hand down the front of my pants, over my underwear, pinpointing exactly where I was already rife with arousal. The moment the tips of his fingers brushed over my clit I lost all reservation. The feeling was warm, the pressure was already satisfying and when he stroked his fingers up and down the cotton of my panties he culled more whimpering from me. "Oh, that's nice, isn't it? That feel good, honey? I wanna get you all nice and wet for me." "Fuck yes, that's so good. Such a dirty little boy." Axel shivered, eyes rolling in his sockets. "Yeah mama, you know I'm so bad. I know I'm not supposed to but... I just wanna play with your pussy so much. I need it, baby. I want it." "I know you do. Here," I whispered, pushing my cutoffs down and shimmying them off my hips so they dropped to my ankles. Axel stood back and watched me kick my shorts from my ankles onto the dirty wood floor and when I spread my legs open again he came right back to continue gently rubbing me through my panties like nothing had interrupted us. "Oh, I can feel that wet pussy just soaking through these little panties. Fuck. You make me wanna do real bad things, Mommy." "Then do it, bad boy. Go on. You know I'm ready for it." "Yeah? You want me to? What if I just... Pull these wet panties over and... Oh... Fuck. Look at that. Oh, honey... Yes. That's gorgeous." Axel's words dripped with longing and the further he explored the more I was absolutely sure I wanted him to fill me up and ravage my body as hard as he possibly could but any time I tried to pull him in by the neck for a kiss he would withdraw, eyes drilling me as he continued to rub circles around my clit. The sound of dirt and debris crunched beneath his boots as he dropped to one knee and then the other and gently dipped the tip of his middle finger inside of me. The brief feeling of him entering me made me gasp and hold my legs open in hopes he would give me more of that stimulation. His face was almost close enough for me to feel his breath and I sat with my spine straight, hands gripping his hair. I was met with more resistance but he didn't stop fingering me. He hooked his finger up inside of me and purred when I responded to it with my own sounds of satisfaction. "Yeah, baby. Come on. I need you to come." "Lick me... Eat my pussy." Axel drew a breath in through clenched teeth and slipped his finger out so he could give me a few lights taps to distract me from how needy I was. I groaned, half in ecstasy and half in frustration. "I want you to come just like this. Can you do that for me? Can you come from me just rubbing your pussy?" As good as it felt, I knew I could get off much quicker if he used his tongue but when I asked him to he shook his head. "No, no, honey. Come on now, I know you can do it. Just relax. Let me just touch you and fill you up, okay? And once you give me all that sweet cum, you know I'm going to have to put my cock in you." I felt the warmth of an impending orgasm start to spread all over my body, rendering me extra sensitive, raising every hair and making it so I had to cover my own mouth to stifle the noises of pleasure that could not be contained. All at once, I forgot where we were and what we were doing and the realization that I had snuck off with the newest member of the Sweet Demons to fuck in a shed was overwhelming and so very illusory that it almost didn't feel real at all. Especially not after Axel worked me up right to my edge and let me float there until he decided he would let me plummet. "You want to come now, don't you?" "Yes. Yes, please." "Do it then. Come. Give it to me," he granted me permission. "Fucking come for me." I pushed my fingertips through his slick brown hair and watched his face as I got closer and closer by his hand. He had two fingers pulsing in and out of me and his thumb caressing my aching clit firmly but with care and the combination of the way he looked and sounded mixed with his begging was unlike any random fuck I had ever had. "Oh yes, do it for me. I need you to. Please. Please come. Do it for me, baby." "I'm going to," I warned. "Yes," he groaned. "Fuck yes, honey. Give me all that pussy juice. So good. You're doing so good. Right there, you're right there." My ability to speak was cut off by the storm of sensation ripping through my body and Axel hushed me, forcing his fingers in and out of me constantly even as I buckled from coming. "Sh, sh, sh... Not too loud." He whispered. Once the shivers rattled through me, Axel stood up, still hunched over and immediately undid his belt so he could pull his hard cock out. I stared down to get a good look but it wasn't enough time to see much before he forced himself into me with a shudder of his own. "Oh fuck yeah, that's tight. So tight. I can still feel that orgasm squeezing around my cock." "How's it feel?" Axel pushed his index finger in my mouth, the one he had just used to conduct a shaking orgasm from me, effectively shutting me up. He leaned in as he started pumping away, depressing my tongue with his whole finger and lacing his other hand into the back of my hair. "Oh, you naughty girl... Letting a stranger fill you up with his cock. I bet you love this shit, huh? You love being a nasty little fuck, don't you?" I nodded my head and he laughed softly, lowering his face beside mine so he could continue whispering his thoughts to me. "Damnit, baby I didn't expect you to be so tight. Fuck... I'm not going to last long." All I could do was moan in response. Axel seemed to get lost in his own world of sensation as I sat up on the bench with my knees as wide apart as I could manage. He thrust into me slowly at first but picked up the pace as I hummed around his finger. He relished the sounds of wetness that we made and stared down between us for a moment so he could appreciate what it looked like to glide his shaft in and out of my dripping pussy. "Where do you want my cum?" His voice sounded in my ear but I couldn't do much to respond since he had been gagging me with one extra long finger. Once he pulled his index out of my mouth he used his hands to cup my face and I thought finally he was going to kiss me but again I was wrong. I merely felt the coolness of his rings and the piercing of his eyes as he snapped his hips forward and back. The most attention he gave my mouth was when he ran the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip and let out the most desperate mewl. "Hm? Where do you want it?" "Inside," I breathed. "Come inside me." "You sure?" "Yes." "You want me to pump that pussy full of cum, do you? Well... I think I can manage that." His voice dropped to hardly a whisper but I could hear it by the shell of my ear and then my neck, tickling as he dropped his sweaty forehead onto my shoulder with a sugary sigh of lust. "Call me a bad boy. Please. Tell me I'm bad. Call me names... Come on. Help me come." He urged me, sounding so desperate to let go. With a smile I rolled back slightly onto the base of my spine, lifting one leg up on the counter so he could really get a glimpse of exactly what he was doing to me. "Come on, bad boy, I know you want to shoot that fucking load inside of me, so do it. You dirty fucking pig, do it. Fill me with all that nice, hot cum." "Yes, yes, Oh God. More. Little bit more, I'm right there." "Come on you filthy boy, give me all that cum. I'm ready for it. I want it so bad. I know you want it too." "Uh huh," he whined. "Oh, I'm a bad boy. Oh, fuck I'm a bad, bad boy, Mommy. My cock feels so good inside you, I'm gonna... Oh, fuck." "Yes little boy, come now. Come for me. I want to see that cum dripping out of my pussy." Axel grabbed the hand I was using to support myself on the bench and brought it to his neck. I immediately understood what he wanted so I closed my fingers around his throat, effectively covering the crude tattoo that was etched there forever. With his air cut off, I watched as his green eyes fluttered shut and his spine straightened as much as it could in the small confines of the tool shed. "Right there, right there, right there," he repeated to himself, words suffocated yet still articulated enough for me to hear. "Oh, you're fucking nasty. Nasty little boy likes to put his cock in things he's not supposed to. Such a bad, bad boy." "Mhmm. Yeah. Keep going. What else?" His words left him with urgency as he forced me to squeeze a little tighter around his neck. "You're going to come. You're going to give me what I want and right now I want you to shoot that fucking load right up inside of me. Do it, now you disgusting boy." "Yes, Mommy. I'm going to. Oh shit-" Axel gasped as he came and I gasped too but for an entirely different reason. During the exact moment his body tensed up, abdomen flexing underneath his see-through shirt, there was a loud banging on the tool shed door. "Oh fuck," I said, attempting to withdraw but was halted by Axel. He didn't let my hand go and never broke away from me. Instead, he shook his head. "Too late now, honey. Might as well ride this out with me." I felt the warmth of his cum inside of me wanting to trickle out but being forced back inside by the strokes of Axel's still-hard cock. "Whoever's in there better come out right now! If you're stealing, you're going to fucking regret it." Braun's voice yelled from outside the toolshed doors, echoing through the thin sheet metal as though he were standing right there with us. "Braun, go away, it's just me... I'm uh... Looking for a flashlight. Be right out!" "Angel?" "Yes. Be right there." Something told me Braun wasn't going anywhere until I revealed myself and by that point, Axel had given me everything he was worth and choked down his laughter with the back of his palm as he stepped back to tuck himself back in his pants. I jumped off the workbench and scrambled to get my shorts on and as soon as I fastened the button the doors of the shed screeched open on the rusted track. It was too late to look like we had been doing anything other than what we were actually doing and I flushed bright red. Axel, however, smirked proudly at Braun who looked like he had just walked in on his parents fucking. Only instead of downright embarrassment on Braun's part, his expression changed to that of a man who suddenly viewed another man as his mortal enemy. The look of vehemence Braun gave to us was enough to send me a step back. Axel didn't seem to feel the same potency as I did and it made total sense. He was the one that rode with a legendary motorcycle gang and Braun was just a skinny shop kid that posed no threat to him at all. "Sorry if it smells like we were looking for a flashlight in here, eh my man?" Axel chuckled and I scoffed in response. "Braun... I said be. Right. Out. Christ!" "S-Sorry I thought that somebody was in here stealing shit," Braun squinted at Axel. The both of them immediately became annoying to me and I wanted to escape the situation as quickly as I could but I knew I had to smooth things over with Braun. I couldn't be sure if he was still the type to go running off telling people about what he saw. Grimacing in my cum-soaked underwear, I motioned for Axel to leave the tool shed and once he ducked out he made for the clubhouse without looking back at us. He had the swagger in his step of a man just laid and I scowled both at him and then at Braun. "Don't you fucking dare breathe a word of this to Al, all right?" Braun looked sourly at me and crossed his lanky arms over the chest of his sweat-stained tank top, the same one he had been wearing all day. "Seriously, Angel? Him?" "Seriously, Braun," I mocked him. "Be fucking cool for once and don't say anything. It was a mistake anyway." "You want me to do something about it?" He volunteered, obviously eager to get any chance to confront Axel. "No! Just... Pretend like this never happened. I know I'm going to," I huffed and with that, made my way across the backyard grass toward the sliding door of the house. I had had enough of bikers for the day and went upstairs to lock myself in my bedroom so I could peel off the underwear that was starting to dry to my skin.

~*~ I couldn't help but think about the night before because it did feel really irresponsible and I was still convinced that Braun would tell my dad that he had practically caught me with Axel's dick inside me. I spent most of the day in a paranoid state and mostly wanted to be alone. The Sweet Demons, Dad and neighbors had bigger plans than to take the next day easy. Usually, the weekend following Friday the Thirteenth was just a two-day-long continuation of all the festivities which included hangovers cured by more excessive drinking, loud music and talking bikes all day. It was another draining hot afternoon, the kind of day that you wanted to sit around in your underwear with fans blowing air at you from every direction. Luckily for us, Dad had fixed up the house with central air and inside was crisp and cool as the beginning of Autumn. That's where I wanted to stay. Even when people came calling for me I told them I wasn't feeling up to drinking, leaving them disappointed and a little shocked. Everyone was in the backyard looking at each other's motorcycles like it was their own private show. Once in a while, I would peek through the blinds to see who was doing what but mostly I just kept to myself and caught up on some reading. I felt like shit from all the wine and beer from the previous night and I didn't much want to run into Braun or even Axel for that matter. My thoughts did manage to linger on the newest member of the Sweet Demons even though I wished they didn't. I couldn't help it. I kept on thinking about what we did and all of the horribly dirty shit we had said to each other. It set my heart beating a tiny bit faster to remember it, which I did clearly. There wasn't a moment of it that was marred by drunkenness. I could practically feel it still, the way he had worked his fingers in and out of me. I was not without a little soreness and it was just enough of a nagging feeling to keep reminding me of my bad decisions. I started hearing my name being called and I withdrew into the couch, holding my book up to cover my face so that if anybody did come looking for me they might think twice about bugging me. But that was the thing with bikers, they didn't much care what you were doing and soon I was confronted by my father who had hobbled all the way into the house just to find me. "What are you doing in here? Why don't you come back outside to hang out with everyone? They all wanna see ya." "Ugh, it's just so hot and I feel like trash." "Come on, you've drunk more than that before. What's up with you? I haven't seen your face all day." "Sorry. I'll come out in a bit." "Ah, do whatever you want," he said, winking at me before turning around and making his way back into the kitchen. From the kitchen, I could hear somebody else enter, probably to get another beer from the fridge and Big Al couldn't let them by without saying something snarky. "I gotta give it to ya, Axe, that is one sweet chopper you've built yourself there." "Aw, thanks, Al. Coming from you... I'm humbled." "No, I'm serious. Takes real talent to make something like that yourself. How old are you again?" "Twenty-seven." "Jesus Christ! I never had anything that nice when I was your age." Axel laughed and I heard the clapping of hands, most likely a warmhearted handshake. Hearing their conversation in the kitchen made it so I was reading the same line of my book over and over until I finally closed it and set it on the table. I didn't want to admit to myself that Axel's close proximity was enough to make me want to finally go interact but it truly was and I hated myself for that. "Why don't you go talk my daughter into coming outside. Bring her a beer too, would ya? It might seem cool if somebody close to her age started bugging her 'stead of her old man." "Can do, sir," Axel replied. The smirk that I wanted to hide found its way onto my face and it was only a minute of silence before Axel poked his head through the entrance to the living room, locating me immediately. The same sort of smirk spread across his lips too and when his body caught up with his head I noticed he did have a beer in each hand and I supposed one was for me. He was wearing a black tank top that day but I, of course, already knew that from my spying out of the windows. His acid green boots were still on though and I suspected he was wearing the same pants as last night. I wondered if the filthy fuck had even changed his underwear. "Hi." He said, holding up a bottle just for me. I sighed and outstretched my hand with a little extra sass. "Just hand it to me and leave me alone." Axel receded the beer and let his eyebrows furrow. "No, now you get nothing." "Good. Go then." "I was instructed to-" "Convince me to go outside and play with the other kids, yeah, I know. I heard you guys in the kitchen." Axel frowned at me comically. "Hey now, what are you trying to say? That you don't want to come and play with me?" "No... Not really," I lied. Axel approached me, boots landing audibly on the living room carpet. He set the open bottle down on the coffee table in front of me and dropped down on the love seat that was a brother to the sofa I was on. "You mad at me?" He asked after taking a long swig of beer. "Why would I be?" "Because you're looking at me like you want me to die." I sighed and crossed my arms. "I'll just be happy once you guys are all gone and this place is back to normal. I can never concentrate with all the fucking bikes going off in the yard." "You think you would be used to it by now?" "I could never get used to it. I only just moved back from school this Summer and I already hate it." "I'm sorry. I'll go tell them to keep it down back there." "Shut the fuck up," I flared. He blinked and sighed. "Tell me why you're mad." "Just leave." "No. I'm your guest. You should be a little more gracious to me. Especially after... You know." "What? After you finger fucked me so hard I couldn't piss right?" Axel bit down on his lip to keep from laughing. "I'm sorry?" "Maybe if you had done a little bit more for me I wouldn't feel so weird about it." He cocked his head to the side in question, begging an elaboration that I was hesitant to give. "What do you mean?" "I mean... I don't know... You acted like... Like I was gross or something. Like you didn't want to put your mouth on me." Axel looked down at the floor instead of at me. It looked like thoughts were buzzing like flies around in his head and he was trying to pick one out. After a long silence, I decided to speak again. "You wouldn't even kiss me." "I know." He answered quickly. "Well... If I'm so nasty to you that you can't even bring yourself to put your lips on me why are you even here talking to me?" "That's not what it is, Angel. Don't be stupid. I wouldn't have done anything if I didn't want to. I don't think that you're gross. Not at all." "Then what the fuck was that shit?" He sighed even deeper before replying, "I told you... I don't do romance. I'm not like that." "I've kissed plenty of unromantic guys. Next." It was then that I decided I would go for the beer and start drinking. It seemed like the proper thing to do. It went down smooth and produced only a tiny amount of gas in my stomach that rumbled up out of my throat. He watched me, eyes searching mine. He almost looked like I had brought up a gruesome story that he never wanted to hear again, the way his eyes softened and a sheen of what looked to be sadness overtook him. "I just have this weird thing about my mouth, okay? I really don't want to get into it because you wouldn't understand." My back connected with the cushions of the sofa. "Do you... Sorry if this seems really rude but... Do you... Like have a disease or something? Should I go get looked at?" "No!" He fired. "Of course not. You might have some predispositions about bikers but I'm not a fucking cesspool, okay? I'm clean." "Okay, okay. Sorry." I apologized, afraid that I had really struck something inside of him. "It's a... Germ thing. It's not you, okay? So don't take it personally... Trust me... I wanted to kiss you." "Oh, really?" I asked. "I still do." "Well, I'm not sick or anything if that's what you're worried about." "For someone who was just telling me to go fuck myself, you sure do flip your switch fast," he chuckled. I smiled around the mouth of my beer bottle and he raised his eyebrows at me. "For real though," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that it bothered you so much." I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm over it." Axel laughed at me and launched one of the decorative pillows in my direction in retaliation. "Careful!" I squealed, almost spilling my beer as I was hit. "Oh, I'm sorry," Axel said as he got up and took a couple of steps closer to me. "Now please, make me look good in front of your dad and come outside. If he thinks I can convince you to come outside, maybe he'll let me ride his bike." "Ha!" I scoffed. "You have a better chance at having tea with the fucking Queen." "I know but... Still. Come on. Let's go enjoy the outside. If you want, you can show me the beach? I heard it's great." "Yeah if you like goose shit, broken glass and screaming children." "I mostly just want to see fat guys in Speedos." "Well then, do I have the beach for you!" I enthused. Axel bent down, bringing his face close to mine. "Then maybe later we can like... Go make out somewhere?" "Aren't you afraid I'll give you mono or something?" "Well you see, I do fancy myself a risk taker. Now come on. Up, up! Up you get. Let's fucking go outside and crush some beers." Sneering at him, I took my half-empty beer bottle in one hand and followed him from the living room, silently cursing him but mostly myself for being a fucking pushover when it came to guys that I should not have been interested in.

The Scars Left Behind

Author: Snarkymuch

Word count: 4,044

Fandom: Marvel & Harry Potter

Relationship: Hermione Granger &  James “Bucky” Barnes

Summary: Hermione didn't escape the war without scars, and hoping to get a fresh start, she left England to start a new life in America. Her life was simple. She lived in a small cabin on the outskirts of town, and she never imagined the turn her life would take. When she least expected it, a man with a metal arm stumbled past her wards. Unable to leave him injured, she offered her help and just maybe made a new friend in the process.

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Hermione's boots fell heavy on the concrete of the sidewalk as she walked. The street was mostly abandoned as the light faded from the sky. A sharp wind cut through the air, making her pull her coat tighter around herself. Winter was well on its way.

A few stray leaves rustled as they blew along the edge of the street, and she hurried her pace. She'd caught the forecast earlier that day and knew the temperature was going to plummet that night, bringing the first ice of the season.

She'd come into town to get a few supplies and check her mail. She'd kept a muggle post office box since moving to the states. The wards around her cabin kept the mail carrier and other muggles from getting to close. It wasn't like she received much mail, using other means to contact her friends, but it was necessary if she was living in the muggle world.

After the war, she tried to find her footing in the wizarding world. Harry had given her a home at Grimmauld Place, but she never felt comfortable there. Everywhere she turned, it felt like she saw the ghosts of those she'd fought alongside. It was with a heavy heart she packed her belongings and left her friends to start anew in a small town across the pond.

She turned down a sidestreet and ducked behind a building. With a quick glance around to ensure she was alone, she apparated back to her cabin. It was nearly dark, and she fumbled with her bags to get the door. Her fingers were so cold they felt like ice, making them stiff. Stepping into her home, she kicked the door shut and shivered at the change in temperature. The warmth felt good against her cold cheeks.

She lugged her bags to the table and began putting away her supplies. Glancing through the kitchen window, she could see the trees bending and twisting in the wind. It was nearly dark. She hurried to put away her things so she could fetch some wood for the stove. The last thing she wanted was to run low in the middle of the night.

With the groceries away, she grabbed some gloves and ducked outside to woodpile. She gathered an armload and lugged it in, turning back around once she placed it by the stove and going back for more. Hermione repeated the task a few more times until a nice stack was built. Tossing her gloves on the table, she loaded the stove, giving the dying fire a little boost with a wave of her wand. The flames grew and danced. Satisfied, she closed it up and sighed, warming her hands over it. She was just about to go gather a few books for some research when her watch grew warm, nearly stinging her arm. Someone had tripped her wards. They had to be close to set off the alarm.

Grabbing her wand, she steadied herself and began approaching the door. Years of fighting a magical war had taught her to remain calm, but she was still worried. Muggles shouldn’t be able to get so close. No one other than her friends knew where to find her, and they wouldn’t show up unannounced. For a brief moment, she felt a prickling of fear, her mind going to memories of white masks and dark robes, but no, the ministry had rounded up the last of the Death Eaters years ago. It wouldn’t make sense for one to be in America. Then who was at her cabin?

Taking a breath, she gripped her wand and opened the door. Harry would have a thing or two to say about her walking out to face an unknown alone, but what he didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him.

Her eyes tried to adjust to the dark as she stepped out, making her blink a few times. There was nothing out there.

The sounds of the trees creaking in the wind made her tighten her hold on her wand.  As she stepped back toward the door, she heard a twig snap to her right and spun to face the darkness where the sound had come from. With her wand ready, she crept forward, narrowing her eyes as she studied the shadows. Something large crashed into the bushes, making her jump. She could see the shadow of something, or someone, on the ground, mixed with the branches.

“Hello, who’s there?” She cast a quick lumos as she approached the shadowed figure on the ground. The light was enough to confirm that it was a man. Strangely, the glow from her wand glinted off his hand. It appeared to be metal. Immediately, her mind went to Pettigrew. She adjusted her grip on her wand as she stepped closer. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

The man groaned and began to shift, trying to push himself onto his knees. It was then that Hermione saw the blood on the ground, blood that was coming from him. She was torn as to what to do. The reasonable part of her said she should get away from him, send for help, he could be anyone, but the less rational part, her Gryffindor side, urged her to help him, despite the risk. Heaving a sigh, she set her mind to helping him. She knew it was dangerous, but the years she’d spent watching Ron and Harry run headlong into danger had rubbed off on her.

“You’re injured,” she said, making him lift his head, his eyes stormy gray eyes meeting hers. She shifted her weight between her feet and pursed her lips.

He watched her for a moment before looking away, continuing to push himself up. He got to his feet but leaned heavily to the right, his metal hand pressing against a wound on his side. His gaze found her again. “I was shot.”

Hermione frowned but kept her wand out. “Right, well, that explains the blood.” She nodded. “I suppose it would be prudent to ask if you’re some type of serial killer before I offer my assistance.”

He huffed, shaking his head. “If I wanted you dead, you already would be.”

That did very little to reassure her decision to help him. “I honestly don’t know how to feel about that, but I can’t very well leave you out here bleeding.”

His brow furrowed as his eyes pierced her, searching for something. Even wounded, she knew he was dangerous. There was something almost predatory about him, the array of weapons she could see strapped to him just added to her belief, but there was something else, too. Maybe it was her imagination getting the best of her, but he seemed tired, scared. She didn’t really believe he wanted to hurt her.

“I don’t need any help,” he said, taking a hobbling step forward.

She scoffed, raising a brow. “You look the pillar of health.”

He grunted and took another unsteady step toward her driveway.

Still holding her wand, she put her hands on her hips and stared at his back as he wobbled away. She considered her options. Either let him go, and who knows what could happen to him, or she could make him stay, whether he liked it or not. She stomped her foot in frustration and then marched toward him. “Listen, Mister … what is your name?”

“Bucky.”

She paused. “Bucky? What kind of name is that?”

He grunted again. “Mine.”

She frowned. “Well, Bucky, I can’t in good conscience let you leave, so you can either come inside on your own, or I’ll just need to make you. Your choice.”

His shoulders shook, and she was fairly certain she heard a choked laugh. She scowled; her hand clenched around her wand. Why couldn’t he see that she was trying to help? This was ridiculous. She didn’t need to be outside in the cold, yelling at an ungrateful stranger.

“You have to count of three to turn around and come inside,” she commanded, then watched as he continued to stumble away. “One … two,” she counted, and he kept walking. "You’re acting like a child."

He shook his head and took another stumbling step, nearly falling to the side.

"Three.” She stomped toward him. “Have it your way.”

He hadn’t made it far, and she quickly caught up to him, coming around and cutting him off. She stopped in his path, crossing her arms over her chest. He lifted his chin and raised a brow. They stared at each other, the only sound the wind whipping through the trees.

“You’re in my way.”

“And you’re going the wrong way.”

He rolled his eyes and shifted his weight. He was still listing to the side. “The road’s this way.”

“And my house is behind you. You’re hurt, and I know a thing or two about treating wounds. If you don't let me help you, then you need a hospital, but something tells me you’re not one to go.”

Bucky’s gaze flitted over her, pausing on her wand before returning to her eyes. “You’re awfully bossy for someone with only armed with a stick.”

“Is that a threat?”

He shrugged, then winced at the movement. “Observation. You got a name?”

“Hermione.”

He huffed a laugh. “And you called my name weird.”

“Excuse me, Hermione sounds educated and refined, unlike Bucky.”

“Well, Hermione, I’m going to be fine, so if you’ll excuse me.” He stumbled to the side, and blood dripped from his fingers. He needed medical attention, maybe more than she could provide.

She shook her head and pointed her wand at his back. She’d had enough. "Stupefy."

Bucky froze mid-step and collapsed to the ground.

Only armed with a stick. Teach him to underestimate her. She stepped over his legs and stood beside him, shaking her head. With a wave of her wand, she levitated his body and floated it along in front of her as she returned to the house.

Once inside, she lowered him to the couch, then stood back, wand hand on her hip and her other rubbing her forehead. What was going to do? She didn’t even want to think what Harry would have to say about this. The blood was a stark reminder that she didn’t have time to waste, though.

Needing to get an idea of what she was dealing with, Hermione lifted his shirt to better assess the wound. She wasn’t a healer by any right, but she had picked up some skills during the war, though this was the first gunshot wound she’d ever seen up close. Leaning over him to get a better angle, Hermione scrunched her brow at what she saw. It wasn’t as grotesque as she thought it would be. The hole was small, blood slowly seeping from it. She needed to see if it went clean through.

Tucking her wand in her back pocket, gathered her nerve to reach a hand beneath him. Wrinkling her nose at the feeling of warm blood on her fingers, she felt around his back. She nearly gagged when her finger slipped into a hole. It felt a little bigger than the entrance wound, but it was still small. At least it was through and through.

Drawing her hand back, she grimaced at the blood on his fingers. Right. Now that she’d seen it, she needed to treat it. She didn’t imagine it was much different than the time Neville skewered his side when he fell from his broom playing quidditch with the at the Burrow.

First, she needed to stop the bleeding. With a few accios, she had towels and her trusty beaded bag flying to her. Working quickly, she cleaned the wound, then opened her bag and summoned the small bottle of dittany she always kept with her. Pulling back the towel that she had placed over the bleeding hole, she unstopped the bottle and let a few droplets fall into the wound. It worked quickly, leaving the wound raw but closed. She was about to roll Bucky, so she could do the same to the exit wound when he started to stir. For a moment, she considered stunning him again, but she already felt bad about doing it the first time.

She tucked the dittany back in her bag as he stirred. His face pinched, and a groan slipped from his lips. Hermione frowned as he blinked slowly to awareness, flesh hand fisting the fabric of his shirt. He stirred for a moment before his eyes snapped fully open, and he looked around wildly. Her frown deepened, then his gaze locked on hers, and he seemed to relax, his shoulders dropping.

“You're safe here. You're in my cabin. I brought you inside—treated your wound.”

Bucky blinked a few times. "You chased me down."

"You could barely walk. It was hardly a chase."

He pushed himself to sit on the couch, back against the armrest and legs stretched across the cushions. He studied her face for a few more moments before his gaze flicked to his side. His mouth set in a grim line as he lifted his shirt and looked over the wound. He touched the reddened skin, and his brow wrinkled as he looked back at her quizzically. She wasn’t quite sure what to say, how to explain what she’d done, so she just shrugged a shoulder.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, pulling his shirt back down.

Hermione’s brow furrowed. “You don’t remember being shot?”

He rolled his eyes. “I remember that just fine. I was wondering how I got inside when I clearly recall walking the other way.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he said, tilting his head. His eyes flitting over her. “There’s no way you carried me.”

Her wand burned against her from where it rested half out of her pocket. She hadn’t thought her plan this far through. “I’m actually rather fit.”

He barked a laugh. “Yeah, let’s go with that, and how'd you knock me out?” He raised a brow.

“You collapsed. Maybe the pain became too much.”

"Right," he said slowly. He twisted, pulling his legs off the couch, so he was sitting back against the cushions. “I should probably say thank you for helping me, even though you still should’ve let me go, so thanks."

“Well, I wasn't about to let you die, so you’re welcome,” she said with a nod and gathered the used towels and her bag. She paused before turning to step away. “Would you like some tea?”

Bucky frowned, blinking a few times. “I don’t know—I mean, I don’t remember if I like it.”

“Okay.” That wasn’t strange at all. “How about I make you a cup the way I take it, and you see what you think?”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, doll.”

Hermione paused mid-step, turning to face him with raised brows. “Doll?”

He shrugged, head tilting to the side, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Would you rather ma’am?”

She pursed her lips. “You could use my name.”

“Too long. Sounds made up.”

“And Bucky sounds like something I might name a dog.”

He shrugged again. “Whatever you say, sugar.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, turning to start the tea. When she got to the kitchen, she tossed the armload of towels and her bag on the table. Her wand bumped her hand, and she plucked it from her pocket and tucked it into her boot.  She started the kettle and gathered what she needed for tea. As the tea steeped, her mind wandered to Bucky. He was both infuriating and intriguing at the same time. She had so many questions, but it didn’t seem polite to pry.

With two cups of tea in hand, she returned to the living room to find Bucky examining a photo on the mantle. It was of her, Harry, and Ron sitting around the table at the Burrow, celebrating Ginny’s win at the quidditch world cup. A rare moment of lighthearted joy spent amongst friends. Things had been difficult for all of them after the war. They each carried scars—both physical and mental.

The war and the loss that went with it had changed them. Harry became hypervigilant, Ron became a mother hen, and Hermione ran away. It wasn’t her proudest moment, leaving England, but she had hoped putting distance would help her move on with her life. Unfortunately, the nightmares and flashbacks remained. More often than not, she found herself waking in a cold sweat, the memory of Bellatrix cutting into her arm vivid in her mind. No, leaving England had done nothing for the nightmares.

“You looked happy,” Bucky said, glancing up from the photo to meet her gaze. “What happened?”

She sighed. “Way to flatter a girl.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He frowned. “It’s just you seem different—lonely.”

She set the cups down on the coffee table and took a seat on the couch. Bucky placed the photo back on the mantle and walked over, sitting beside her. She picked up her cup and motioned to his. “Try it.”

He eyed the cup for a moment before reaching out and taking the mug. He kept his left hand, his metal hand, in his lap. He lifted it to his lips and took a hesitant sip. Hermione watched his face as he seemed to decide what he thought. Lowering the cup, he swiped his tongue over his lips and smiled. “It’s good.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

He took another sip of his tea, and she leaned back into the cushions, watching him. His gaze went to the photo on the mantle then back to her. His head tilted to the side. “They were friends.”

She sighed, grasping her mug in both hands. Her gaze moved to the photo. “Still are, but things changed. I think I lost myself, and I thought running away would help. ”

“Did it?”

“Not particularly, no. My problems followed me.”

He nodded. “I know what that’s like.”

Eyeing him, Hermione knew that there wasn't a shred of a lie in that statement. He carried himself like she did, weary, tired, and like he was fleeing something. Battle worn.

Hermione looked down at her cup, rubbing her thumb against the warm ceramic. “You running from something or towards it?” She lifted her chin and glanced at him.

Bucky licked his lips, gaze dropping to this lap. His left hand flexed, and she could hear the faint clicking of mechanical parts coming from his arm. “Both, I think. There are people after me who want me back. They haven’t stopped hunting me.”

She hummed. “And what are you running towards?”

He drew a breath, blowing it out slowly. “I’m not really sure. A face, a name—someone I think I knew from before.”

“Before what?”

He lifted his head, looking at the picture on the mantle. “War.” He was quiet for a moment before looking back at her. “I think we were friends.”

She frowned. “You can’t remember.”

It was as much a question as it was a statement.

Bucky shook his head. “The people after me … they did more than make me a weapon. They took my memories—made me forget who I was.”

“You’re not a weapon.”

“No, I’m worse than that.”

Hermione frowned and placed her cup down, leaning forward, propping her elbows on her knees. She turned her head to look at him. “Who told you that?”

His eyes flicked to hers before he looked down, a frown twisting his lips.

Quietly, she asked, “Was it the people you’re running from?”

He rested the cup on his knee and sighed. “I know I’m a monster for the things I’ve done. I don’t need nobody to tell me different.”

She looked at the picture of her smiling friends, thinking about what it must be like to know your friend is out there but not being able to remember them. “This friend of yours, the one you’re looking for, what would he think?”

She heard him sigh. “I wish I knew.”

Hermione nodded, looking down at her hands. “Well, I think if he’s any kind of friend, he won't hold the past against you. Did you want to be a weapon?”

When he didn’t respond, she looked over at him. He was staring down at his metal hand as he made a fist. After a minute, he looked at her, his expression tight. “No, they didn’t give me a choice.”

“Then the way I see it, you’re not what they tried to make you. You’re not some weapon. You’re a person who had their agency stripped away.” She paused, waiting for him to meet her gaze. When he did, she continued. “You’re a victim, Bucky. Nothing more, nothing less.”

He blinked slowly, his face not even twitching as he watched her. After a moment of him not saying anything, she hesitated then rolled up her sleeve, showing off her bare arm. “Would you say that I’m at fault for someone else carving this into me?”

Bucky glanced down, his eyes automatically falling onto the heavy scarring that marred her forearm, the word ‘mudblood’ visible against her pale skin. She knew it was a gamble to show him, but it only seemed fair. He was letting himself be vulnerable. She could do the same.

His eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze moved over the scar. “Are they dead?”

Hermione swallowed thickly, licking her lips. “Yes, but unfortunately, I wasn’t the one to kill her.”

His gaze flicked back to her face. “What does it mean?”

“It’s a slur—means dirty blood,” she said as she tugged her sleeve down.  “There was a war. That’s what I’m running away from—from the memories, at least.”

Bucky set his cup down on the table, turning to face her. His brow creased, and lips pulled down as he studied her. “You must have been young.”

She drew a breath, looking down at her cup. “We were all young—children, really. I was only seventeen when I was tortured for the first time. While other girls were dating, I was fighting for my life. It was a dark time.”

“Was it worth it?”

Her hands clenched into fists as she thought of the last battle and of the people who they had lost. “I don’t know if war ever is, but if we didn’t fight, didn’t try, so much worse could have happened.” She paused, looking at him. “Yes, even though people were lost, I think it was necessary to ensure our future.”

He nodded. “You still have nightmares, though.”

Hermione’s brows knit together. “I never said that.”

“Didn’t have to.” He shrugged. “Things like that leave a mark.”

“I suppose they do.” Taking a breath, she sat back against the cushions, staring at the photo of her friends. She wondered what they would think of Bucky. The man was a kindred spirit, worn by life, touched by war. She didn’t need to know his whole story to tell that his battles had marked him just as much as her own had marked her. She wanted to help him, and maybe in doing so, she could help herself.

The silence stretched out between until she turned to look at him, lip pulled between her teeth. It was a crazy idea, what she was about to offer, but it felt right. “You know, you’re safe here. No one would find you if you stayed.”

His gaze flicked up to meet hers, and he blinked a few times. “What?”

Hermione shrugged, trying to keep her voice casual and light. “I’m just saying if you’re tired of running, you could stay. Here. The couch pulls out.”

“Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”

“Because I know what it’s like to be on the run, to be hunted, because I don’t think you’re nearly as scary as you think, and because everyone deserves a friend—especially when they don’t think they do.”

His mouth twitched downward. “You wanna be my friend?”

“If you’ll be mine. Like you said, maybe I’ve been lonely.”

His gaze flitted over her face before settling on her eyes. “Friends,” he tested the word.  “Yeah, I think I’d like that, doll.”

Chapter 8

With a sigh, I slouched against a wall adjacent to a small dressing room. Destani had dragged me into some brightly colored clothing store in the mall and she’d kept me cooped in it for nearly two hours. “Dez please hurry up.” I complained.

“Okay okay, damn… you cannot rush beauty girl!” She shouted from behind the silk curtain of her dressing room. Snatching the fabric aside, she sauntered out of the dressing room, modeling a white off the shoulder lace romper. She twirled across from me, beaming as she stopped in front of a full length body mirror. “So, you like?” She turned to face me with her hands wedged against her hips. “It’s very cute and I think I’ve said that about the last five outfits. Now can you pick one so we can go?” I fussed.

“Yes I can pick one, but we can’t just leave. We still haven’t found anything for you yet!” She exclaimed, rushing back into the dressing room to change. Rolling my eyes, I scoffed and crossed my arms over my chest “Destani, I don’t need a new outfit. I’m telling you, I can just go in my closet and find something cute in there.”

“Find an outfit in your closet my ass. Girl we're trying to get chose, not go on an evening excursion to the library.” She finally emerged from behind the changing room curtain in her own black sundress. With a defeated sigh, I followed her back into the store. Roaming through the variety of vibrant selections in the closest rack, I moseyed behind her as she pulled her now vibrating phone from her back pocket.

Sliding the green button across the screen, she brought the phone to her ear “Hey Meek, where ya’ll at? We’re in A’gaci now… yeah… nah, we’re about to find something for Sy… alright well we'll be here… okay boo, bye.” “That was Meka. She said her and Nay are on their way to meet us here.” She explained as she reached for a dress on a rack near us. With a nod, I watched as she held up the mauve colored dress. It looked like a tight fitting ensemble that stopped quite a few inches above the knee. It was pretty simple, but the color did pop and I knew the tightness of it wouldn’t leave much to the imagination. At first glance, I was pleasantly surprised by just how adorable it actually was.

“That’s cute.” I blurted, pulling it out of her grasp. Destani’s mouth fell open with surprise as she watched me hold the dress up against my frame. “Well shit, that was quick. And surprise, surprise… Miss snootie booty wanna go for something sexy for once. This is too cute girl!” She laughed, beaming proudly at my selection.

“What ya’ll bitches looking at?” A loud voice rang out behind us and I watched as Destani whipped around, anger decorating her face. We quickly, and thankfully, came face to face with a laughing Tameka and Nalay. Destani’s expression softened almost immediately and she rolled her eyes in their direction. “Damn Dez, you lookin like you ‘bout to swing on a bitch.” Tameka strolled toward us with a smirk as she chomped on a piece of gum. “Girl you were about to get lit the fuck up, shit!” Destani exclaimed. We shared a laugh as we shifted toward the front of the store. I stepped to the counter and handed my purchase to the cashier as Destani followed suit, moving to the next available register.

After just about two hours in the store, we finally exited and now stood in line in the food court for Chick fil A. Once we’d all placed and received our orders, we made our way to a table in the center of the court to accommodate all four of us. “Ya’ll, this party is about to be so dope.” Tameka said, popping a nugget in her mouth.

“I know right. I mean we haven’t been to a good party in a while… I hope this one is worth it.” Nalay chimed in. Sipping from the straw in her styrofoam cup, Destani raised a hand as she shook her head “I haven’t shook my ass in so long, I think my damn hips are rusting into place. I need this party to be live.” The table exploded into laughter and we continued to eat.

Over the usual sound of the hustle and bustle in the court, I couldn’t ignore a very distinct voice that sounded like it was approaching from the left of the table. “So Dez, you just gone sit up in this public ass mall knowin you ain’t call my ass?” Glancing to the left, I quickly matched that velvety deep voice to none other than Chris, who ambled toward the table with Rashad, Dontay, and a guy they often hung with from the basketball team by the name of BJ, trailing behind him.

“Hey big head.” Destani turned to greet him, lifting her chicken sandwich to take a bite. “Hey big head my ass, didn’t I tell your fuckin ass to call me today before ya’ll came to this mall?” He reached her side of the table and glared down at her, reaching up to adjust his hat so that the brim was facing backwards. Dropping her sandwich onto its paper sleeve on the table, Destani stared up at him and blinked rapidly “Nigga who in the hell are you speaking to? I fuckin forgot to call your high yellow ass, okay. You’re in here now, so what the hell is the problem?” Squinting his honey dipped orbs, Chris raised his right hand and pointed it vertically at her “It’s not the fact that I’m here now. I thought I specifically told you to call me so I could ride with ya’ll to the mall. You don’t listen Anna Mae. You just don’t got damn listen!”

The boys howled with laughter behind him, but he managed to maintain a straight face as he continued to glare at Destani. Her lips parted in shock as she turned completely in her seat to stare at him “Boy, are you serious right n…” He abruptly cut her off by placing a hand palm side out directly in her face and he rapidly shook his head “No, no, no… I don’t wanna hear it Anna Mae. You shoulda listened to me girl. Now Imma have to whip that ass into shape to make you better understand the words that are comin out of my mouth.”

The entire group of us cackled loudly at Destani’s expense and even she shook her head with a grin creeping onto her lips. “Check her ass my nigga!” Rashad laughed, reaching out to bump fists with Chris. Picking her cup up from the table, Destani stuck a middle finger in Rashad’s direction. He retaliated by reaching for her cup, snatching it from her grasp, and chugging a few gulps from it. “Ew, I don't know where your juicy ass lips been nigga… give it back!” She exclaimed. We all continued to laugh at the spectacle that was Destani trying to defend herself against Chris and Rashad.

“Aye ya’ll hold up, hold up… bad bitch alert!” BJ yelped abruptly. In the blink of an eye his three comrades quickly diverted their attention away from us, and focused instead on a group of girls that sashayed not too far from our table. “Damn!” Dontay muttered. The girls walked with every intention of deliberately bringing the attention to themselves, just with the way they were all dressed alone, and the apparent ring leader bore her imitation light brown eyes directly into Chris’s. He stared at the girl, allowing his gaze to roam liberally over her frame with no reservations.

“Excuse me sweetheart.” He blurted. Though I tried to ignore it, I could feel my heart plummet at the sound of him speaking, singling out the girl. I watched with sudden irritation as he slowly approached her, followed by his friends. “Desperate ass hoes.” Tameka mumbled as she chewed down a waffle fry. Nalay nodded in agreement as she peered on at the exchange “I don’t even know what Chris thinks he’s doing... like he don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Mmhm, he sure does. And I think his fast ass needs a little reminder of that too.” Destani rose from her seat, a mischievous grin plastered on her face. We looked on as she moseyed over to the group and I giggled at the sight of her adding an extra switch to her hips. “Baby… why’d you just walk away from me like that?” She approached Chris with her hands on her hips. “Dez what are you…” Destani quickly placed an index finger against his lips and pushed herself closer to him.

She smiled adoringly at him, then turned to face his new conquest “Hi, I’m Destani,” She greeted the frowning girl with a warm smile, “I’m his girlfriend… and the mother of his unborn child.” The girl looked from Destani to Chris then down at Destani’s stomach as if she were really pregnantbefore locking her irritated gaze on Chris “Nigga you have a baby on the way? Why the fuck are you all in my face? I’m not with that… triflin ass.”

“But I don't have a…” Destani quickly hushed him once more with her finger against his lips and continued to grin at the girl. The girl glared at Chris with disgust then turned to her friends, summoning them to join her in her departure. “Aren’t you excited about the baby Christopher?” Destani turned to face him with a toothy grin, while rubbing a hand up and down her now protruding stomach. Chris stood in shock with a mouth hanging agape and a group of friends laughing relentlessly at him. “Aw close your mouth baby, you’re standing there like you trynna show me what that mouth do.” With a wink, she sauntered away from him triumphantly.

--

Emerging into the warmth of the night, I carefully stepped out of the passenger side of Destani’s car in a sultry pair of four-inch, lace up, suede boots that rose just above my knees. Destani had persuaded me to wear them to the party to compliment the mauve number that snuggly hugged my frame. Raising a manicured hand to my high ponytail, I made sure to fluff the curly bush of golden tresses that cascaded like a fountain over my forehead.

“Shit, we are fine as fuck!” Destani exclaimed, now joining me on the curb in a pair of graffiti stamp platforms to match her white romper. I smirked eagerly as she wrapped an arm around my waist and we waited for Tameka and Nalay to climb from the car. “And we’ll remain fine as fuck, as long as I don’t fall on my face in these damn boots first,” Tameka fussed, “Dez I don’t know why I let you talk me into wearing these death traps.” With a smack of her lips, Destani swung around to face her with a head full of wild raven ringlets bouncing with her “We can’t walk in here looking like some bum bitches. We’re stuntin on niggas tonight boo.”

“Yeah whatever. If I fall, we gone be some fightin bitches. That’s all I know.” Tameka mumbled, rolling her eyes. She waddled behind us with Nalay as we began our trek toward the packed party house. Several people lingered out on the large lawn of the house and as we approached, many turned to face us. I quickly lowered my gaze from the intensity of the stares, but from the corner of my eye I could see Destani basking in her glory.

“I don’t even know if we’ll be able to get in here. This place is packed.” Nalay exclaimed, surveying the amount of people loitering on the grass. “Darling trust me, we will be entering this party.” Sashaying with pure seduction, Destani smirked lustfully at a few gawking guys and pulled me up the few steps of the porch. She pushed through a few people that crowded the front doorway and like she’d promised days ago… we made a grand entrance into the party.

With minimal effort, she slipped through throngs of people with me teetering behind her and Nalay and Tameka hot on my trail. “I think I see the boys.” She shouted over the bass of the music, glancing back at me through the dim room. With a nod, I gripped onto her hand tighter and moved in sync with her as she led us further into the mass. Feeling her slow in her confident strides, I looked up from the precise steps that I took and spotted Dontay and BJ leaning against a wall in front of us.

“Damn!” I glanced up at the sound of Rashad’s voice as he rounded the corner from the kitchen, which was illuminated in red. With a closed fist pressed against his lips and brows furrowed, he circled around us and ended up beside Destani, who he slowly scanned his eyes over from her gorgeous thick hair down to her platform shoes. “The finest things in this mothafucka right here!”

He turned to face Dontay and BJ who leaned against the wall closer to the kitchen entrance. I watched as they dapped one another and Destani giggled as she tossed a few of her coils over her shoulder. “Shad you stupid.” She chortled sassily. With a wandering pair of eyes that danced continuously over each of us, Rashad’s gaze landed right back on Destani and he licked his lips “Girl, call me what you want. I can’t deny magnificence when I see it.”

I rolled my eyes away from their evident flirting and nearly gasped when my sight landed on a familiar tall figure emerging from the kitchen... the exhilarating scent of his Nautica cologne wafted into my nose before I could fully make out his face. Chris hadn’t raised his gaze and noticed us standing there yet, so I took a quick moment to admire him from head to toe. The front of his white t-shirt was stamped with ‘Black Pyramid’ and he wore a pair of ripped jeans that rested loosely at his hips. He sported a long sleeved red and black plaid button-down tied around his waist, his feet were dressed in a pair of classic tan timberland’s, and a black snapback resting atop his head completed the look. 

Just as he lifted his golden gaze from the floor and connected them with my own ogling ones, I focused in on the hand that was linked to his. He pulled a scantily clad Gabby along behind him and I stared on in utter revulsion as she bounced around to the music. She cut her eyes toward us, scanning over each of us before ending her gaze on me. With a smirk tugging at her hot pink lips, she conspicuously dragged her darkened orbs over the length of my body. She wobbled forward in her stilettoes and snuggled herself closer to Chris, clinching onto his left bicep... her eyes on me the entire time.

“The fuck is this hoe staring at?” Tameka said obnoxiously loud behind me. I didn’t bother to face her though... it was obvious exactly who she was referring to. I refused to allow Gabby and her antics to peeve me. From the flawless face of makeup that I’d allowed Destani to apply, to the curve accentuating outfit that drew undisputed attention… I could feel my confidence escalate minute by minute. For once I felt confident in my skin and I was determined that if only for one night, the newfound self-assurance would bring me a few hours of fun and no drama.

But I could still feel one other burning gaze. Even with his tactless girlfriend attached to his arm like a lost child, Chris never tore those honey dipped orbs away from my frame and I didn’t even have to face him to know that. I bobbed next to Destani to the sound of Loso’s Thim Slick with not a care in the world. “This is it bestie. Make your move girl… this nigga is staring so hard, it’s like he’s feeding off your aura right now.” I giggled as Destani leaned close to my left ear and whispered her words of encouragement. With a wink, her attention was soon stolen.

“Thim slick, you gonna twerk it for a nigga one time?” I smirked as I watched Destani giggle flirtatiously in Rashad’s face in response to his question. Reaching for her hand, he carefully led her off into a crowd a few feet away from us. Soon after, Tameka and Nalay were both paired off with Dontay and BJ and they all shifted into the crowd of dancing bodies.

My confidence faltered as I stood alone near Chris and Gabby. I felt more awkward than ever as he leaned against the wall and his eyes remained glued to the exposed skin of my thighs. Gabby grinded to the beat of the song against his crotch, but he displayed not an ounce of interest and stood stock still against the wall. Turning suddenly to face him, she stretched onto the tips of her toes to reach the side of his face and spoke into his ear. I couldn’t make out a word she muttered, but he clutched his hands together in front of him as he raised his stare to meet my own, with an obvious disinterest in whatever she was saying.

Dissatisfied with the lack of attention he gave her, she reached for his chin, gripping it tight as she turned his face toward hers. She meshed her lips against his and I promptly turned my head from the spectacle, nearly moving away from them altogether. Almost a full minute later, I felt a soft grip on my arm and I turned to find a pair of golden orbs gazing right into my eyes. From the corner of my eye I could see Gabby sauntering off into the crowd, away from her boyfriend who stood there hopelessly clutching onto my arm.

“Hope, you...” There was no discretion in his stare as he dropped his eyes over my frame, “You look incredible.” I could feel my face heat up and I prayed that the thin layer of highlight and concealer on my cheeks would disguise it. I hadn’t seen him smile since I’d spotted him, but as I stared up at him I noticed a smirk tugging at his luscious lips. “Dance with me… please.” He’d already wrapped a strong arm around me and dropped his hand to that dip in my lower back that he seemed to favor. Pulling me forward as he took a few steps back, he pressed his back against the wall he’d been leaning on only seconds ago

I stood frozen against his chest as he grinned down at me and I was sure we would remain stuck in this position, as he seemed content there with his eyes boring into mine. Within seconds, he swiftly twisted me around by my hips and gently tugged me back against him. Poo Bear’s Work For It blared through the speakers that were situated throughout the living room of the house. It was a natural occurrence, but my hips began to sway to the beat of the song. I set the pace for us and he soon followed my rhythm, moving his own hips in sync with mine.

The moment quickly intensified as he leaned forward and tilted his head, allowing his lips to linger over my ear. “Ooooooh Imma make you sweat for it… that good kinda hurt…” His sultry voice flowed like heaven in my ear and I gave in to the urge to shut my eyes and become lured by it. A slither of confidence surged through me and I dropped my hands to my sides, swiftly moving them back to grip the edges of his jeans. He hissed into my ear as I pulled him closer and unexpectedly felt the sizzling pressure of his lips against my skin.

“If I kissed you right now with all these people around, what would you do?” His grip tightened against my hips and I knew he could sense that my knees had gone completely weak. He was no longer reciting words from the song… he’d dipped into his mind and allowed his own secluded thoughts to ooze into my ear. My whimper came before I could stop it and I was more than grateful for the loud music that drowned it out. He wasn’t satisfied with the lack of response though. I was sure of that the moment he twirled me back around, slipping his hands into their rightful place against my lower back.

“What would you do Hope?” He repeated quietly as though we were the only two in a hushed room, “Would you kiss me back? Would you let me sweep you off your feet, just from the feeling of my lips against yours?” His stare was intense and for the longest, I gawked at him with parted lips… waiting for this hallucination to snap back to reality. His lips formed into a perfect smirk as he snuggled me against his chest. He proceeded to use his large hands to move my hips to his liking and in one fluid motion, he dipped his head into the crook of my neck.

“I wanna kiss you so fuckin bad ma,” He mumbled, brushing his lips against my skin, “You don’t understand what you doing to a nigga in this dress right now.” I clinched onto the front of his shirt as the song played on and eventually rotated into New Boyz FMS. He held me in place and the feeling of a hand slapping repeatedly against my butt startled me. I strained my neck to look behind me, regrettably forcing Chris to remove the warmth of his lips. Destani stood behind me flashing her pearly whites through the broadest grin. She bounced up and down in place as she clapped her hands excitedly. I could hear the distinct “Oh shit, oh shit” as she verbalized her enthusiasm at the sight of Chris openly clinging onto me. I dropped my head face down against his chest and shut my eyes in utter embarrassment. I could feel his chest vibrating with laughter as he loosened his grip on my waist.

The remainder of the group made their way back over to us and soon, they all crowded around and began to dance to the upbeat music. I turned around to face the crowd, but Chris didn’t allow me to venture too far as he gripped my hips and repositioned me in front of him. I quickly jerked my head back with surprise at the sight of a red solo cup thrusting into my face. Glancing to my left, I noticed Tameka ticking her hips to the beat with Dontay glued to her backside. She held two red cups, one tilted toward her lips… the other lingering in my face.

Scooping it from her hand, I lifted it to my lips and swallowed a sip of the substance and nearly spit it out with a scowl. Whatever the stuff was, I was sure it sat in the cup in its purest form… no mixer. It was like an oversized shot! Laughing from behind me, Chris swiftly slipped the cup from my grasp and downed a few gulps of it. Turning my neck to glance back at him, he peered down into my eyes and suddenly pulled the cup from his lips.

Sticking it in my face, he waited until I parted my lips before he tipped it slowly allowing the searing liquor to trickle into my mouth. “I’m about to fuck who I’m dancin with… I’m about to fuck who I’m dancin with.” He chanted along with the song with the most seductive smirk as he winked at me. In only a matter of minutes, the few sips of liquor he’d poured down my throat settled in my system and it quickly began to feel like someone had unexpectedly cranked up the thermostat in the room. I swore I could even feel heat tingling and radiating from my toes up through my body as I thoughtlessly swiveled my hips against him.

We all danced nonstop through a good rotation of songs and after sharing about three cups of alcohol with Chris, the effects of the potent drink settled directly into my bladder. I stumbled a few steps out of his grasp and quickly attempted to gain my composure as he looked down at me through drooped lids. “Where you going?” He asked.

“I have to use the restroom.” I responded, praying that my words weren’t slurred. He immediately shook his head in protest and moved toward me “Lemme go with you. You gotta at least be tipsy and I’m not lettin you go alone.” “No Chris, I’m fine…” Just as I pressed a hand against his chest to refuse his offer, Destani swept into place beside me and tugged at my hand. “Come with me babe. I gotta pee!” She exclaimed. I nearly hugged her with relief as she pulled me away from the watchful eye of Chris.

--

I trailed closely behind Destani as she maneuvered through a crowd of people on the second floor. She seemed confident that she knew where she was going, so I stayed silent behind her as she came to a stop just outside a closed door. “Ugh, hurry up. I gotta piss like a pregnant bitch!” I laughed as she danced in her heels, for a totally opposite reason than the music that thumped through the hall. She slapped her hand against the door continuously, never receiving a response. “Try the knob, maybe no one is in there.” I suggested, easing around her and twisting at the golden handle. To my delight, the door was unlocked and assumingly unoccupied. I pushed the door forward and nearly fell backwards as I gasped at the sight before me.

I gaped in horror as a guy with dreads down his back pounded himself into a female clenching desperately to the sink. He stood with his jeans pooled at his ankles and his shirt pulled up over his well defined abdomen. Thrusting forcefully into her, he jolted her body forward with every connection his pelvis made with her backside. My mind told me to back out of the doorway and run away as fast as my boots would carry me, but the alcohol flowing throughout my system kept me bonded in place. To my dismay, the guy suddenly reached forward and snatched a handful of the moaning female’s long and wavy black tresses. Her contorted face lifted toward the light and she bit lustfully into her bottom lip.

My heart sank as I reflexively backed away, pushing Destani back from the doorway as I moved. I could hear her slap a hand over her mouth behind me, but I didn’t stop to catch the astonishment I knew was on her face, nor did I stop to look back into the bathroom as I yanked the door shut. Grabbing Destani by her free hand, I led her down the hall and back toward the stairs. That couldn’t be who I thought it was. I was intoxicated and obviously seeing things … I knew it couldn’t be who I thought it was. For her sake, I prayed it wasn’t who I thought it was…