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fanficimagery · 3 years

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When Enough is Enough pt. I

Imagine being let down one too many times by your best friend, only to end up making some new ones in the process.

Words: 7.7K

Sometimes when you had a moment to yourself, you often found yourself looking back on how easy things were when you were just in high school. College wasn't a walk in the park, but it did somewhat prepare you for the real world after school. And with you now being a nurse and Peter still doing the superhero gig, you and your best friend hardly had time for each other which left you feeling bummed about it.

But you've finally taken a much needed two week vacation and you couldn't wait to dress in sweats and drink the night away.

Grabbing some fruit from your refrigerator, you set it all out on the counter and get to work. The strawberries need washing and to be sliced, but the black berries and blueberries are fine with just a quick wash. You grab one of the beer mugs from your kitchen cabinets and fill it a little less than halfway with ice. You toss in some strawberry slices, black berries and blueberries. Then turning to the refrigerator, you grab the Malibu Coconut Rum and the Minute Maid Berry Punch. You pour about three shots of the rum into the glass, followed by another three shots of the punch. Then grabbing a Smirnoff Ice Original, you twist off the lid and place the bottle upside down in your mug.

Satisfied with your drink for the time being, you shove a straw into your mug and take it with you as you walk over to your sofa. You groan happily as you take your first sip and then settle down to binge watch some shows you need to catch up on.

Halfway done with your drink, your apartment door opens but you already know who it is since there's only one person with a spare key. Peter jumps over the back of the couch, landing next to you and stealing your mug from your hands. He takes a long sip, grinning as he hands it back over to you. "That drink is dangerous. Tastes too good to stop just at one."

"Hence the reason why I'm drinking it, Parker." You clutch the mug between your hands once more, leaning out of his reach when he makes a grab for it again. "I'm on vacation and I plan to drink until I can no longer keep my eyes open. Hands off."

"Mean. And here I was going to invite you to a party." You freeze mid-sip and raise an eyebrow at your best friend. Peter smirks. "We've both been kind of busy and now that you're on vacation I figured I'd ask and see if you want to be my plus one for Tony's party."

Your lips purse. "Hmm. What kind of party?"

"A normal one?" He shrugs. "It's just the team and close friends of the team. Everyone needs to decompress and they decided to do that with drinks and music."

"Fine. I'm game. But you're packing up the fruits and all my beer mugs, and then we're stopping by the liquor store and Quick Mart to pick up more Smirnoff, Rum and Berry Punch."

"Y/N," he chuckles. "Tony's got drinks there."

"Yeah, but does he have all the ingredients to make my favorite drink?"

"Uh, probably not?"

"Exactly. So chop, chop! Pack it up while I change into clothes worthy of being out in public."

- - - - - - - - - -

As you ride the elevator up to the upper floors of Stark Tower, you're at complete ease. Anyone in your position would be a nervous wreck, but you've heard enough stories about them from Peter that you're not.

As the elevator dings open, you and Peter step out with your arms full of bags. Almost immediately, you're approached by Tony Stark. "Parker, you sly dog! It's about time we meet the girlfriend." You and Peter snort, and immediately try to deny his claims, but he bulldozes right over you. "What's with the alcohol? I got everything you could need here."

"First off," you muse, elbowing Peter aside, "I'm the best friend, not the girlfriend." Tony's eyebrows raise before he chuckles. "And secondly, I was already drinking this at my apartment before Peter asked me to come with him. I doubt someone with expensive tastes such as yours has Minute Maid punch and Smirnoffs sitting in the fridge."

"Point," he gestures to you. "Well welcome. Any friend of Peter's is a friend of ours. And I see you got blueberries so I want one of whatever you're making."

"Sure thing, Stark, but just know this was something we came up with in college."

Peter gestures for you to follow him when Tony gets called away and you keep close to him as he leads you to the kitchen. He finds an empty space along the kitchen island and the two of you work on unloading the bags.

"Get me three mugs of ice," you tell him. Peter takes three mugs to put some ice in as you open the containers of fruit. You earn a few curious glances, but you merely grin and nod, and continue to twist open bottles and cartons. Then once you've assembled everything, you toss the fruits into each mug and start pouring the shots of rum and berry punch into them. You put one Smirnoff upside into the first mug and hand it off to Peter. "Take that to Mr. Stark. I'll assemble ours."

Peter grins and heads off, doing as you've said.

You get the remaining two poured very easily and Peter rejoins you just as you insert the straws. Taking his own mug as you pick up yours, you clink your drinks together before taking the longest sip you can. When you need to breathe, you let go of the straw first and Peter fist pumps in victory. "Dick," you mumble.

Two females approach- one with a shy demeanor whereas the other one has a very energetic vibe about her. You're proven correct when she says, "Hey new girl, are you the one making the Smirnoff drinks?"

You nod. "Yeah."

"Mind making one for me and friend here? Stark won't share." You chuckle and nod again. "I'm Darcy, by the way, and this is my friend Wanda."

"Y/N." You introduce yourself as Peter grabs two more mugs to put ice in. "I'm that idiot's best friend," you say while gesturing to Peter's back.

"I heard that!"

"Well I wasn't whispering it." He mockingly pouts at you over his shoulder and you laugh some more.

"Damn. We owe Sam and Bucky twenty bucks."

You glance at Darcy as she begrudgingly starts pulling money out of her back pocket and you raise an eyebrow at Wanda who's grinning. "We thought you were Peter's girlfriend." Her accent makes your smile widen. "Sam and Bucky said there was no way Parker got a girlfriend as beautiful as you."

Your eyes widen and the seemingly shy girl laughs aloud. "Wait, what?" You nervously chuckle. "I'm not drunk enough to be taking compliments from pretty boys like them."

"Boys." Darcy snorts. "Don't let them hear you call them that. They'll be determined to show you how manly they are then."

Peter sets down the mugs in front of you before taking his back up. "You good here? I want to go say hi to some people."

"Go." You shoo him away. "Go mingle. I'm fine."

"Yeah, Spidey. She's good. We'll keep her company," Darcy says. "Go away now."

Peter frowns and you can't resist pinching his cheek, cooing softly at him. "I'm a big girl, Petey. I'll be around. Plus you're walking me home, remember?"

"Fine." He gently swats your hand off his face as you laugh at him. "But please stay with the girls, and don't listen to anything Sam or Bucky says. They're mean to me."

"I'll try my best. Now go away. I have drinks to make."

As Peter leaves with his drink in tow, you finish making both Darcy and Wanda theirs. They happily accept them when you slide the mugs in front of them, groaning in delight after they take their first sip.

"Come on. Lets go get comfortable with the boys and Nat," Darcy says. "Kick off your shoes though. We're sitting in the pit."

You glance around for a place to kick off your shoes until Wanda gestures you towards the corner where other pairs of shoes lie. Then following them over to what they've deemed the pit, you walk down the carpeted stairs and take a seat near Wanda as Darcy hands over some money to Sam.

"Ha!" Sam laughs. "Knew that little twerp couldn't land a lady as fine as her."

Your nose wrinkles at the compliment and Wanda laughs. "Everyone, this is Y/N. Y/N, that's Natasha, Sam and Bucky." She points to each respective individual as she names them and you nod at each of them. "Y/N also doesn't take compliments well."

"It's weird." You're quick to defend yourself, sheepishly shrugging. "I don't like being put on the spot."

Darcy plops down between Bucky and Wanda. "Well too bad. You are a beautiful woman who makes fantastic drinks." She wraps her lips around the straw to sip some more. "Janie is going to be pissed she missed these."

You chuckle and start sipping your own drink.

"So how do you know Spider-Boy?" Sam asks.

"Uh, we grew up together," you say. "I lived next door to his uncle Ben and aunt May, and when he moved in with them we were just drawn together. Been best friends ever since."

"Never once hooked up?"

You splutter at Darcy's question. "N-No!"

"You're lying." Bucky's eyes squint at you and resist the urge to flip him off. After all, you only just met him.

"I'm really not. There might've been a slight crush once upon a time, but no. No hookups."

Natasha grins at you before sipping her beer. "You're a great liar." You gasp in mock offense.

"Who didn't hook-up?" Peter lands next to you, his arm going around the back of your shoulders.

Darcy waggles her eyebrows at you and you snort. "Apparently all your friends-" Bucky and Sam scoff, "and co-workers think you and I have hooked up."

Peter laughs. "Well there was that one time-"

"Peter!"

"WHAT?!" Sam and Darcy shout.

"Knew it." Natasha preens at being right.

You swat at Peter's chest repeatedly. "Dick. I just finished telling them we hadn't."

"What? But how?!" Darcy wonders. "You had me believing you when you said you didn't hook-up. You had Bucky believing it!"

"Y/N is a phenomenal liar," Peter muses. "We got away with so much in high school."

You crack a grin then, you and Peter sharing a fist bump. "Way to make me sound like I lie all the time." Then looking out at those in the conversation pit, you say, "I don't lie on the important stuff. Just the stupid stuff that got us out of school or whether or not Peter and I hooked up. His girlfriends are usually intimidated by me so I had to convince them Petey and I never slept together."

"Are you two.. together?" Wanda then wonders, but you and Peter shake your heads. "How do you remain such good friends afterwards?"

You shrug. "We know each other's deepest secrets. We won't ever not be friends."

"Hold on. Let's get back to the lying thing," Bucky says. "Give me two truths and one lie. I wanna see if you can do that again. And stare me straight in the eyes when you say it."

Sam snorts as you and Peter laugh. "Okay. Hold on. Let me think." You take a moment to think of the three things you're going to say. When you figure it out, you meet Bucky's steely gaze head on. "I was engaged once. My sister married my ex-boyfriend. I swam with sharks where a young shark took a chunk out of my side."

Everyone seems to hold their breath and you can't help but smirk when Bucky's eyes narrow. After a brief moment, he says, "The sister and the ex-boyfriend. While you seem young, being engaged is believable. As is the shark. But there's no way a sibling would marry another sibling's ex."

Your smirk falls and Bucky grins victoriously, only for Peter to burst out laughing. You follow soon after. "If this were a drinking game, you'd have to take a shot."

"What? No way!" Sam exclaims. Bucky looks grumpy once more and Natasha looks impressed.

Peter nods. "It's true. Y/N dumped him for being clingy and not wanting her to speak to me, and he went crawling to her sister months later. They married a couple years after that."

"And you were okay with that?" Wanda frowns.

"I was fine with their relationship. It's not like I was in love with the guy," you admit. "I just hated that she moved him in with us. It made our already cramped apartment even more cramped, which then led to lots of sleepovers at Peter's."

"So that's when the hook-up occurred." You grab a couch pillow and throw it at Sam who catches it with a laugh. Darcy pats Bucky on the shoulder and Sam laughs at his expression. "Well if that wasn't the lie, what was? The engagement?"

"Oh no. I was engaged." You laugh. "For about a month before I realized I didn't actually wanna spend the rest of life with an idiot."

"The lie was the shark bite," Peter tells them. "Y/N's is terrified of the ocean. She can only make it into ankle deep water before she starts to panic."

"Well the ocean is huge!" You defend yourself. "Have you seen those documentaries with the strange noises and shadows at fuck thousand feet below? No thank you."

The group sitting around you all laugh. You decide to get more comfortable then, angling yourself towards Peter and throwing your legs across his lap. He doesn't bat an eye, instead he just raises his arms and sets them back down atop your legs, his free hand tapping a random rhythm on your knee.

The conversation flows easy after that, Tony dragging Clint, Steve and Bruce to be introduced. Once everyone is seated, the group waste no time in asking what it is you do after you refuse to offer up any embarrassing stories about a pre-teen Peter. Darcy is snapping pictures every now and then, getting your Instagram username afterward so she can tag you in a few of the ones she was posting. And when you get the notification on your own phone, you go through liking the photos and following back Darcy, Wanda, Sam and Bucky who had all followed you.

Not even five minutes after of the pictures being posted does Peter's phone ring. You hear his sudden intake of breath and you glance at the screen, your smile dimming at the name and picture there. "Take it," you murmur. He quickly glances at you and you remove your legs from his lap. "It's been what, a couple of months since you last spoke with her? Take it."

Peter grins and then hurriedly stands up, answering the phone call on his way to a quieter portion of the room. Your newly found friends look at you and you paste on a smile. "It's his on again/off again girlfriend. Darcy posted a picture of Petey and I, and I have no doubt in my mind Leslie saw it."

"So she called him?" Steve frowns.

"Yep. And if Petey's still wrapped around her little finger, he'll be leaving in five, four, three, two- and there he goes." You all watch as Peter rushes towards the elevator, a little excited skip to his run. "It never fails. She doesn't necessarily want to be tied down to Peter, but she'll be damned if Petey and I have a good time together."

"Well that's shitty," Darcy mumbles.

"Preaching to the choir, D." You go to sip your drink, only to realize it's empty. You sigh. "And I need a refill."

"Ohh. Me too!" Tony holds his mug up in the air and Darcy grabs it with a laugh.

She and Wanda follow you into the kitchen, and you waste no time in preparing all four drinks once again. Then when the three of you make it back to the conversation pit, Pepper Potts has finally joined the party. Tony is quick to make her try his drink after Darcy hands it off to him, and you can't help but laugh when she wants to keep it for herself. Tony quickly introduces the two of you and then once again Sam and Bucky are needling for anything embarrassing on Peter.

"Knock it off. I'm not going to do Peter dirty like that."

"You mean like he did you dirty by bringing you to this party and then leaving you for another girl?"

"Oh shit."

Everyone goes quiet, eyes wide as they glance between you and Bucky. "Low blow, Barnes. Just for that, you ain't ever getting anything out of me for blackmail on Peter."

The conversation picks up again, you glaring at Bucky every now and then as he smugly grins at you. Steve, Tony, Clint and Bruce end up wandering off again which leaves you, Wanda, Darcy, Pepper, Natasha, Sam and Bucky in the conversation pit.

It's been nearly an hour since Peter has disappeared, so when the elevator dings to signify someone approaching, everyone readily glances in the elevator's direction. The doors slide open and Peter practically skips out.. with Leslie following on his heels in complete and utter awe.

Pepper is too focused on her phone to see those in the pit staring at you with oh shit expressions and you roll your eyes as you finish off your drinks. "Watch it with that one," you mumble. "She's a clout chaser."

Those words catch Pepper's attention, her focus immediately on the girl then and you barely feel any regret uttering those words. You figure Pepper's used to dealing with clout chasers after dealing with Tony Stark's one night stand's so long ago, so you smother a grin when Pepper winks in your direction before getting up and introducing herself to the girl.

"Well that's my cue to head on home." Darcy and Wanda frown. You huff a laugh at them, shaking your head. "Sorry. I've had three of these," you say while gesturing to your empty mug, "so my tongue's a little loose. If she even looks at me wrong, I have a feeling we're going to have a repeat of my junior year in high school."

Sam ooh's. "What happened your junior year?"

"Got a month of in-school suspension." You shrug. "Some bitch kept making cruel remarks to Peter, so one morning I borrowed my sister's class ring and used it to beat the girl's face in. Then when we were separated and our parents showed up, the same girl had the audacity to call me a crazy bitch to her parents when we were walking down the same hallway. I jumped her again."

"Nuh uh. No way," Darcy muses. "You're so nice!"

You snort and Bucky turns around in his seat. "Parker!" You bite your tongue when both Peter and Leslie turn towards your general direction. "What did Y/N do her junior year in high school to earn in-school suspension?"

Peter barks out a laugh. "She broke the ruby stone on her sister's class ring when she punched a girl in the face. Repeatedly."

Story confirmed, Bucky turns back to you and salutes you with his bottle of beer. "Okay. I did not expect that."

Your nose wrinkles as you laugh. "I was a mean girl. College mellowed me out and real life made me a lazy bitch. I'm too stressed to be a petty asshole."

"I'll drink to that," Darcy says.

You try to stay a little longer, but out of the corner of your eye you see Leslie taking selfie after selfie. Her phone is purposely raised too high and the camera's aim is off so she can capture everyone in the background rather than herself. You quietly groan as you roll your eyes. "I really need to go or I'm going to say something and make things awkward."

The group doesn't try to stop you, instead Natasha leans forward to address you. "How you gettin' home?"

"I can walk. It's actually not that far from here."

Bucky shakes his head. "I'll walk you."

"What? No." You frown. "I'm good. You stay and enjoy yourself."

"Give it up," Natasha muses, "he won't take no for an answer. We like you. Let us keep you safe."

You glance at Bucky. "Are you sure? I can honestly get home just fine. I don't want to put anyone out."

Bucky finishes off his beer. "Nah. You're good. I need some fresh air anyway."

Seeing as you're not fighting him on it, Darcy and Wanda get up to bid you a good night. They walk with you back into the kitchen to grab your shoes while Bucky walks over to Steve to tell him what he's going to do. Darcy takes your phone to enter her and Wanda's phone numbers, and she makes the suggestion that you do this again when you're free. You agree and then they make sure to tell Bucky to keep an eye on you when you end up tripping over your own shoelaces.

With her arms crossed over her chest and staring over your shoulder, Darcy says, "You weren't kidding when you said she had him wrapped around her finger." You look to where Darcy gestures and you shake your head in disappointment. "When Bucky mentioned he was taking you home, Peter didn't have anything to say. He looked at you like he wanted to say something, but then his attention was drawn right back to Leslie when she let out an obvious huff that someone needed to walk you home."

"That's Leslie and her magical vagina for you."

Darcy and Wanda giggle, and your eyes widen. You can't believe you just said that.

Bucky swings an arm around your shoulders then, chuckling. "C'mon. Let's get you out of here before we have a girl fight on our hands." He leads you into the elevator and you flip off Wanda and Darcy who are both waving and wiggling their eyebrows.

The ride down is quiet, as is the first couple blocks on your way home. Bucky's arm had lowered from your shoulders to hooking through your own arm when you tripped over the curb.

"I didn't peg you as a quiet drunk," he suddenly muses.

"Oh you'd know if I was drunk."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. I'm a sleepy drunk. If I were drunk, you'd be carrying me home." You trip over a crack in the sidewalk, giggling, but Bucky is quick to tighten his hold on your arm so you don't fall. He laughs.

"So what? Is this you tipsy?"

"More or less. I'm a bit more bold for a little while and then I'm on the hunt for food before finding a place to crash."

"A bit more bold? You looked like you were one look away from startin' a fight back there at the tower, sweetheart."

You shrug. "I don't like her."

A beat passes and then, "Is it because you're in love with Parker?" You don't answer right away and take a moment to gather your thoughts. "And answer honestly. I really am curious. Your secret is safe with me," he tells you.

Elbowing Bucky lightly, you say, "I love Peter, but I'm not in love with Peter. He's my best friend. But I don't have to be in love with him to be jealous," you say quietly. "For the longest time it was just Petey and I, then Ned came along and finally MJ. We both had our relationships, but Peter had a habit of choosing his girlfriend over his friends, and that- that hurts."

"Have you told him how you felt?"

"He knows," you admit. "Well not from me, but Ned and MJ confronted him about it. MJ got tired of it first and distanced herself. She said she had better things to do than wait around for a friend who didn't want anything to do with her while he was getting his dick wet." Bucky snorts and you grin. "Well those weren't her words exactly, but you get the drift."

"Yeah I do."

You sigh. "Then Ned told him it wasn't cool to just drop us while his full attention was on a girl who only wanted him hanging out with her friends. Peter tried to do better for a couple months afterwards, but alas Leslie wins. Again."

"I'm sure he was just excited to hear from her after so long. At least that's what I heard you tell him."

You glance up at him, eyebrow raised. "Who are you and where is the real James Buchanan Barnes?"

"What?"

"I don't know, man. I didn't peg you as someone this talkative." Bucky chuckles and a few minutes later you're glancing up at a familiar building. "Well this is me." You unhook your arm from his, smiling at him. "Thanks for walking me. I'm pretty sure I would have either scraped my palms or busted my chin had you not been there to catch me."

"Don't even worry about it. You okay taking the stairs?"

"Pft. Too much cardio. I'll take the elevator."

"Well then I guess this is where I leave you." You mockingly salute him and he shakes his head at you. "Drink some water."

"Yes, sir. See you around, Barnes."

"See 'ya."

Over the next couple of days, you don't really hear from Peter. You text him to grab some dinner with you and to watch a movie, but he ends up telling you he's busy and that's that. Darcy ends up adding you to a group chat with Wanda, Natasha and Pepper, and you end up talking to them more than your own best friend. Surprisingly, none of them are fans of Peter's Leslie. While they can admit the two of them look good side-by-side, it's obvious Peter does anything and everything to keep her in good spirits even if it means putting him in an awkward position.

Admitting you and Peter were backed into two very different corners and not talking at the moment, Darcy suggests another night of drinks. You tell her you have one more week off, but Pepper's too busy running Stark Industries and Natasha is about to go off the grid for a mission. Darcy and Wanda are free, so Darcy says she'll text you the deets.

You had reached out to Peter once more, sighing when he gave you the excuse of spending time in Stark's labs. His hesitation rubbed you the wrong way, so one text to Pepper later confirmed your gut feeling that Peter had not been by all day and, in fact, had texted Tony for date night suggestions instead. So when your night out with Darcy and Wanda comes around, you walk into the bar and quickly find them, then marching up to the table and downing one of the shots there.

You cough, cringe, and then, "Is that vodka? Fuck! You should have warned me."

"You looked like a woman on a mission," Darcy says. "Who am I to get in the way of that?"

You glower at her and then accept the drink Wanda pushes towards you. It's then you notice Sam and Bucky at the table, and you narrow your eyes at them.

"If looks could kill," Sam chuckles. "Don't worry. We're designated bodyguards and drivers tonight. Just pretend like we're not even here."

"Mhm. Move over."

Sam scoffs as Bucky immediately starts pushing him further down the bench seat they're on and you take a seat on the edge. Your knee bounces anxiously beneath the table and Bucky nudges you with his arm. "What's got you so worked up?"

"Peter fuckin' Parker." Darcy and Wanda's nose wrinkle, and you sigh. "I'm just.. so over waiting for my friend to realize I still exist. It sucks to be forgotten about until the one he's devoting all his time to drops him. Then it's like he remembers I still exist and it's back to normal as if nothing ever happened."

"I like Peter," Wanda starts, "but he isn't a good friend."

You shrug. "He's been doing this since high school. It hurts, but I've gotten used to it."

"Screw that. Drink up," Darcy urges you. "No moping tonight."

"I'm down." You salute her with your glass. "To no moping."

"Aw hell," Bucky mutters. "You girls are going to be a handful," he says as he watches you down the complete drink while Darcy and Wanda cheer you on.

Bucky and Sam, being the best designated bodyguards, keep the drinks at a decent pace so none of you over-do it. The second they notice the annoyance drain out of you and you're all lazy smiles, Sam and Bucky sag in relief.

"Okay so FMK," Darcy says. "Y/N, you're up first."

"Ugh." You groan. "Do I really have to answer?"

"Yes. But don't worry, Sam and Bucky won't be one of the candidates." You smile at their offended heys! "We don't need to feed their egos."

"Alright. Hit me!"

Wanda giggles as Darcy offers up your choices. "Tony, Clint, and Thor."

"Oooh," you drawl. "Fuck Thor because you know, he looks like he'd dom the shit out of you behind closed doors." Sam snorts and Bucky glances at you, eyebrow raised. "Marry Clint because he's goofy as fuck. That'd be a fun marriage. And sadly kill Tony because you know, he's got Pepper. Hoes before bros. You don't do that to a fellow lady."

"I think you got the saying backwards there, Y/N." Sam laughs. "It's bros before hoes."

"Is it? Is it really?" You take a long sip of your drink, eyes twinkling in the low light. "Wanda's turn!" You then muse. You look at her, smirking. "Your choices are Steve, Peter, and Bruce."

She pouts at you and you can't help but laugh. She sighs. "Kill Bruce just because he's definitely not my type." You and Darcy giggle. Wanda hums. "I'm sorry, but I'd do Peter just so it's a one and done. And then marry Steve."

You coo at her. "Wanda Rogers. It has a nice ring to it."

Wanda blushes, but then she turns on Darcy. "Your turn. Sam, Bucky, and Peter."

"Hey! We're not supposed to offer up these two idiots as candidates," she says while gesturing to said two idiots.

Bucky and Sam merely grin, awaiting her answer. When you or Wanda don't budge, she rolls her eyes. "Fine. Kill Peter, fuck Bucky and marry Sam."

"You answered that way too quickly." You laugh, Sam and Bucky's smugness not going unnoticed. "But you know, same. Cheers to good taste!" You and Darcy tap your glasses together, breaking down into giggles afterward.

Bucky shakes his head fondly at the three of you. "You girls have no shame when you've got liquor in you."

You, Darcy and Wanda all share a look before you're laughing once more.

- - - - - - - - - -

The night goes on with Darcy asking the most asinine questions she can think of. This group of people you've only met days before now know several of your sexual preferences and kinks thanks to the giggly brunette, but it was all admitted in good fun and no one teased you about it. You also know them on a more personal level and you can't believe some of the stories that leave Bucky or Darcy's mouths.

Wanda seems to be the photographer of the night and her favorite picture to take is you getting into Bucky's personal space and attempting to earn a smile from him. You managed to get one after a couple of hours- hours spent threatening to lick his face. You ended up face to face with him, staring him down, and when he said you wouldn't.. you did. It was nothing more than a kitten lick to the tip of his nose, but it was enough to send everyone into hysterical laughter. Wanda was just grateful she managed to catch the whole thing on video instead of a picture.

As Sam and Darcy went to grab another round from the bar, you glanced around the cramped building and leaned into Bucky. "I'll be back."

"Where you going, doll?"

"Bathroom. There's always a line for the ladies bathroom so it might take me a while."

"Need an escort?"

You chuckle and shake your head. "I'm fine. Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours about me."

At his nod, you squeeze his arm with assurances that you'll be back soon before scooting out of the booth. You make your way towards the back of the bar, sighing at the line down the hallway. So taking your spot in line, you lean against the wall and immediately pull out your phone.

Scrolling through Instagram, you like the few photos Darcy and Sam have posted. Wanda even posted the video of you and Bucky, and it makes you grin as it plays over and over. Although as you look at the number of likes and comments, you kind of wish the Avengers didn't have public social media.

After nearly ten minutes of waiting in line, it's finally your turn. It's a great relief to be inside the small room and then after doing your business and washing your hands, you're on your way back towards your booth. Only you've barely exited the hallway when there's a body sliding in front of you.

"Hey." You jerk to a stop, frowning at the stranger before you. "So not to be creepy, but I saw waiting in line earlier and I was wondering if I could buy you a drink."

The guy is good looking, but under the current circumstances you just want to get back to your booth. "Sorry, but my friends have me taken care of." You step aside in order to go around him, but he reaches out to capture your wrist. You jerk out of his hold. "Don't touch me."

Though you're obviously disgruntled, the guy laughs. "Come on, sweetheart, don't cause a scene. It's just a drink."

"First off, I'm not your sweetheart." He huffs. "And secondly, this scene could have been avoided if you took no for no instead of trying to pressure me until I say yes. I was willing to let your sudden introduction slide, but now? Now this is creepy. This is actually borderline harassment!"

"Whoa. Calm down, you fuckin' harpy. All I wanted was to buy you a drink and talk."

You take a step towards him, eyes glaring. "And I told you my friends had me taken care of."

Whatever Stranger Danger had planned to say dies on the tip of his tongue as an arm wraps around you from behind. But not just any arm. Oh no. A very infamous metal arm.

Bucky's arm reaches around in front of you from your left side, his hand then encompassing your right shoulder. As Stranger Danger seems to gape in fear, you can't help but lean back into Bucky's chest as your hands reach up to hold onto his arm as it rests across your chest. "Is there a problem here, doll?"

"I'm not sure. This guy can't seem to take no for an answer and that apparently makes me a fuckin' harpy now," you say.

Bucky gently squeezes your shoulder. "Hey asshole, we still got a problem here?"

"Oh, uh, no." He steps back. And then takes several more steps back. "Sorry."

As soon as he turns tail and books it back to his own group of friends you burst into laughter. You feel Bucky's own laughter against your back and you lay your head back against his shoulder while glancing up at him. "Should I feel special? I feel special," you say. "You took your sleeve off in order to scare the piss outta some douchebag."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get back to the table. I'm pretty sure Sam, Wanda, and Darce started recording the moment I stood up."

"I can see the caption now," you say as Bucky starts to lead you to the table in question. "Sergeant Barnes saves drunken fool from being creeped on. Ovaries are going to explode all over the world. There's going to be so much fanfiction about this moment."

"Fanfiction?"

"Uhh.. don't worry about it."

"I wasn't, but now I'm interested given your reaction."

"Oohh." Darcy perks up. "Interested in what?"

"Nothing!"

"What fanfiction is?" Sam snorts as Wanda frowns, and Darcy practically bounces in her seat. Wanda scoots down the U-shaped bench towards Sam's side and Darcy scoots down as well. Bucky nudges you into the seat and he plops down right next to you before placing his arm on the back of the seat right behind you. "So what is it?"

"They are stories written by fans."

"Darcy!"

"Usually about fictional characters, but some people write about real life people. It's almost always a fantasy of theirs."

You groan and then reach over to pinch Bucky's nipple when he asks, "You write any fantasies of your own, Y/N?"

"Shut up."

He laughs at you, placing a hand over his pec to keep you from pinching him again. "No? So you read them. You obviously must do if you know what fanfiction is."

"You know Tony pays someone on the down low to write smut about him?" Darcy admits.

"What?!" You turn towards her, laughing hysterically. "If it's on the down low, then how do you know?"

"Mama's got her ways." Sam snorts at her. "And FRIDAY is one of my bff's."

For a moment all is well and then Bucky nudges you again. "So which ones did you read?"

"Oh my god," you groan. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

Bucky smirks. "Not a chance."

"Then fine. Yes I read some fanfiction back in my high school days. I was really into vampires back in the day, the whole fangs really did it for me, so I read a lot about the Lost Boys. And Twilight even though they didn't have fangs."

"Twilight?!" Sam guffaws.

You hide your face in the palms of your hand. "I know! But to be fair, I was all about that Jasper guy and that werewolf dude Paul. I didn't really care for the other characters."

Wanda grins. "Jasper was the most handsome of the Cullen coven."

"Yes!" You look up at her. "Thank you."

"Now that is something I will cheers to." Darcy passes you a drink and you raise it alongside hers and Wanda's. "To Y/N's fang festish!"

"Hey!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Sam and Bucky call it a night a couple hours later when you can't quite keep your head up and move between laying your head on Darcy and Bucky's shoulders.

Between the two of them, they manage to herd you, Darcy, and Wanda into a car that was parked around the corner. However the second you were pushed into the middle seat, you lean forward and tap Sam on the shoulder. "Can we get some chicken nuggies?"

"It's three in the morning!"

You sniffle. "But I want some nuggies."

"We'll get you some nuggets," Bucky says. "Now sit back so Sam can drive."

"Yes, sir."

Darcy and Wanda giggle as you sit back, and that's the last thing you remember.

The next time you wake up, you realize you're on the floor. But given the plush carpet beneath your cheek, it's not any floor in your apartment. You groan as your temples throb and you can already feel the bile in the back of your throat threatening to come up.

"What the fuck," you mumble. Your stomach lurches and you clamp your mouth shut.

"Well it seems I missed one hell of a night out." You angle your face towards the voice, stomach lurching once again when you see Tony eating a plate of food not too far from you. "Barnes and Wilson brought you back here because you were totally wasted. They didn't want you to choke on your vomit."

You gag. "Please don't say- say that word." Tony laughs at your pain. "Where are the girls?"

He points with his fork. "Behind you. You might not be able to see them over all the McDonald's trash. You girls really packed away all those nuggets. Even Steve was impressed when he got back in."

"Ugh. I'm never drinking with them again." You roll onto your side, but the movement makes the room tilt. You stop and inhale, then exhale deeply. "Mind if I sleep it off right here? If I move I'm gonna barf."

"Knock yourself out. I'll have FRIDAY warn everyone off for a few more hours."

"Yesss. You're a good man, Stark."

He gasps. "FRIDAY, did you catch that? Send the recording to Pepper. She'll be so proud."

You did not break your vow of over drinking again, instead you stuck to early evening dinner with Wanda and Natasha (when she was in town) after Darcy got called away to take some readings out in a desert. And since that night where Bucky saved you from a drunken fight, he had somehow ended up with your number and would text you randomly throughout the day. Part of you played it cool, but the other part of you was very flattered that Bucky Barnes was sending you good morning and good night texts.

Then the weekend before you are to return back to work, you decide to treat yourself to brunch before you have to go home and clean.

You're sitting on the outside patio, waiting for your food to come out as you sip on your orange juice. You take a selfie, tagging your location as you post it to Instagram with the caption that you're treating yourself to all the food you can stomach before you have to return to adulting come Monday morning. Then when the waitress comes out bearing your honey raspberry and banana ricotta toast, and your breakfast casserole, you happily sigh and thank her for the quick service. You take another picture, post it, and then dig in, laughing at the comments and texts from your friends who sarcastically thank you for the invite.

You haven't even made a dent in the casserole when a shadow falls over you. You glance up mid-chew, grinning at the sight of Bucky. "This seat taken?"

You shake your head, swallowing the food that's in your mouth before addressing him. When it's gone with a little help from your juice, you ask, "What are you doing wandering around?"

"Peter's girl was at the tower, waiting for him to finish up something with Tony," he says. You snort, already figuring out something must have gone wrong. "She was mooning over Stevie and Sam said my bitch face was too obvious, so they sent me out."

"And you just happened to find me?"

"Well you did tag your location which is something we're gonna have to talk about soon."

"Oh whatever." You playfully roll your eyes. "Now shut up and help me eat this food. I see you eying the toast." Bucky smirks and readily takes one of the toasts, eating half of it in one bite. His eyes widen as a slight groan escapes and you chuckle. "Right? It's so good. I think this is going to be my go-to place from now on."

Bucky picks up a spare fork, then digs into the breakfast casserole and you laugh at his willingness to eat your food. There's very little talk as the two of you finish the food, and only after it's gone does Bucky ask, "Is Parker still a no-show to your hangouts?"

"We actually hung out two days ago," you say, "but he was only there for ten minutes before Leslie needed him to escort her to her friend's party." Bucky shakes his head and you shrug. "It is what it is. At least I got you guys out of this whole ordeal."

"You totally got the kids out of the divorce."

You snort and then glare at Bucky for making you do so in the first place. "Shut up. Petey and I are good. He's just preoccupied at the moment."

"If you say so, doll."

Clearly done with the food and ready to move on, you wave down your waitress for the check. However, before she can hand you the small folder, Bucky snatches it and shoves a single bill in there while telling her to keep the change. You know the bill he shoved in there must have been a large one given the widened eyes of the waitress when she sees it.

"Smoothe, Barnes," you muse as you stand. "But you do know I could have paid for my own food, right?"

"Yeah, but I figured I'd pay considering I crashed your alone time." He stands as well, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him. You take off walking in the direction you know your apartment is. "So you got any plans for the rest of the day?"

"Cleaning and laundry. Apparently ever since I've met this new group of people, I've put off my household duties." Bucky huffs a quiet laugh. "I plan to clean today and laze around tomorrow before I go back to work on Monday."

"Laze around, huh?" He pauses a moment and then asks, "Want some company? I'll bring the food."

You glance up at him, right eyebrow raised in amusement before you hook your arm through his. "Bucky Barnes, a man after my own heart." He chuckles as you mockingly swoon. Then straightening up, you nod. "Sure you can come over. I don't mind."

"I'm coming over for lunch and dinner, so what are you going to want?"

"Won't the others wonder where you are?"

Bucky shrugs. "Stevie's been buggin' me to get out. He'll be ecstatic."

You laugh. "Barnes, when they tell you to get out I think they mean out and about in public. Not from one enclosed space to another."

"Baby steps."

"Baby steps my ass," you muse. "But yeah, bring whatever food you like. Surprise me."

He smirks. "Okay. Will do."

#marvel gen fic x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #peter parker #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #darcy lewis #the avengers imagine #marvel imagine #the avengers #marvel

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jerkbitchidjitassbutt · 3 years

Text

It Was You (Part Three)

A/N: Jensen and Y/n are childhood best friends. When his agent informs him that his image could use some improvement for a role, will she help him? Or will her feelings get in the way?

Surprise! I know it’s late (at least by my standards), but ta-da! Part Three a day early!

Read Part One here, and part two here.

A holiday (Christmas centric) Jensen x Female!Reader Best Friends to Lovers series for @spnchristmasbingo. This chapter and others will fill the square of ‘fake dating’, and this one specifically fills ‘Christmas Pajamas’. Un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Header created by me with images from Google. Chapter word count: 2790

Series Warnings: angst-ish at times (if you squint), but mostly all the fluff.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is single in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

You pushed the image of his wink from your mind as you finished up breakfast while Jensen called Stacy and set up a meeting for the three of you. She sounded particularly excited that he had taken her advice, and more so that you were on board. You spent the rest of the morning goofing off with each other as you normally would, singing along to the radio while you cleaned up from your meal and resting a bit before your meeting. When you decided to hop in the shower, Jensen retreated to his own apartment to freshen up.

You dressed for the cold weather once again, opting for a pair of dark wash jeans and boots with thick socks underneath. You layered yourself with a sweater and your peacoat, opting for a scarf and gloves to shield yourself from the cold, but left your hair down to cover your ears as best it could.

Jensen returned to your apartment about an hour after he’d left before escorting you to his SUV in the garage to shlep you across town to Stacy’s office, where she met you with a warm smile. You’d met her plenty of times before, as Jensen considered her a friend after working with her for so many years.

“Y/n, it’s so great to see you again. You look beautiful.” She gushed, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. “And may I just say, you’re making my job a lot easier today.” She added with a breathy laugh.

She welcomed you and Jensen to take a seat opposite from her at her desk before diving right into the semantics. It was pretty simple – you and Jensen were to start posting even more on social media, even suggesting that you share some old pictures of the two of you from your childhood to reinforce your story. She was okay with Jensen’s suggestion of not announcing a relationship explicitly and said the gossip would be enough to keep up the facade of the two of you being together. Her next idea, though, made you shift a bit in your chair.

“I would love it if we could get some paparazzi shots of the two of you with some PDA at some point. Nothing explicit, of course. Maybe just some hand holding or something, you know, to get the fires going.” She proposed flippantly as she shuffled some papers on her desk.

After you shared a look with Jensen, he shrugged and simply replied, “We’ll see what we can do.”

“Alright, then. Jensen, I’m going to ask you this as this is your decision, but do you feel we need to sign a non-disclosure agreement with Y/n? Normally, I would insist, but seeing as you two are such good friends, I’m not going to.”

Jensen waved his hands, “Not necessary. I trust Y/n with my life, so there’s really no need. She’d never do anything that would warrant one.”

You reassured her as well, “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt his career, no matter what. We trust each other to handle this appropriately.”

Stacy seemed satisfied as she nodded and stood to straighten her black blazer, “Well, I think that covers my end of everything. I do think this’ll help. Granted, Jensen is an agent’s dream when it comes to image, really. He’s scandal-free and always has been, but the bachelor title can be weary in the eyes of a casting director at times, particularly for the role of a young father. I’ll keep pushing forward with communications with the producer and I’ll call you when I hear something.”

She reached over her desk as you and Jensen stood from your chairs and shook both of your hands before showing you out and wishing you a good day. As you left her office, Jensen placed his hand on the small of your back. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before numerous times, but when he left it there as you walked down the sidewalk to the parking area, you couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was just for show now.

....................

The next week was spent in relative normality. You and Jensen spent time together, as you always did, but now being sure to post more frequently to social media. Jared popped over early in the week before his flight back home to Texas so you could fill him in, since if anyone needed to be “in” on the charade, it was him. He’d be the first one calling Jensen if he’d heard any rumors, so he was thankful to be included and happy that it was you and not someone else. Jared understood, for the most part, and empathized with how difficult management could be at times.

“You guys can definitely sell that chemistry you’ve always had, so I think it will work.” Jared shrugged, but you didn’t miss the implication of your shared chemistry with Jensen, causing you to take a long sip of your water as he continued. “I’m not sure how they would’ve suckered some rando into faking it with this guy.” He teased, making Jensen huff in amusement and shove him lightly.

Giggling from your seat in Jensen’s apartment, you delighted in witnessing their brotherly bickering.

Jared stood from the chair at Jensen’s island to bid his farewells, “Well, y’all let me know if I can help in any way. My flight leaves at 5, so I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you guys next week.”

Yours and Jensen’s flight back together to Austin wasn’t until a few days before Christmas and Jared wanted to get home a bit earlier. The two of you would see Jared at his Christmas party before making your way to Dallas, where your families still lived. Jared and Jensen shared a quick hug before Jared scooped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly into his chest, “Now you let me know if I need to kick his ass for anything, you hear me?” he whispered in your ear.

Another laugh escaped you as you poked his side before he gave you a quick peck on the cheek and made for the door, waving as he exited.

“Alrighty.” Jensen exclaimed, clasping his hands together after he saw Jared off, “I’ve got some plans for us tonight.”

You settled in front of him, gazing up at him with a questioning squint, “Do you now? Do I get to be privy to that information?”

“You sure do. C’mon, let’s go.”

He whisked you out of the door quickly after helping you into your coat. You walked with your arm linked in his, the gesture completely natural at this point in your lives, down the bustling streets of downtown Vancouver as you window shopped and grabbed some coffee at the café before he pulled you to your next stop, the artisanal bakery that made your favorite treats. He grabbed all the necessary ingredients to make hot chocolate and pushed you from counter to counter instructing you to grab whatever your heart desired.

“Tonight, we are cooking an amazing dinner of spaghetti – and yes, before you even ask, I’m making my grandmother’s sauce – and then, we’re getting in our most festive pj’s and having another Christmas movie marathon as we shove our faces full of cookies. Sound like a deal?”

You nudged him with your hip as the basket swung from your arm, “Ackles, you’re a man after my own heart, aren’t you?”

Grabbing a bag of chocolate covered truffles from behind you, he threw them into your basket with a grin, “I’m just trying to woo you, Y/n. Should I be so lucky.”

If only he knew.

After spending way too much on chocolate, decadent candies and other treats, you went back to your apartment to grab your Christmas pajamas that were given to you as a gift last year from Jensen’s parents. They had made the whole family dress up in matching sets for their annual Christmas eve dinner with both of your families, and it made for the most relaxed evening as you all gathered around their outdoor fire-pit for dinner instead of the formal table setting you’d experienced in so many years past as it was a tradition for both sides, with Jensen’s and your parents alternating hosting each year. The pajamas were red and had snowflakes all over them and you decided to grab your polar bear bootie slippers from your closet to bring also. You changed quickly and pulled an oversized shawl around your shoulders before creeping back down the hallway, praying that one of your neighbors didn’t peak out to see a grown woman rushing down the hall in snowflake jammies.

Letting yourself back into Jensen’s apartment, you heard a loud chuckled as soon as you shut the door. He had emerged from the short hallway that led to his bedroom wearing his pair of the same print, but he was barefoot.

“Great minds, huh?” he quipped with a wide smile, still laughing as he ventured into the kitchen.

The two of you made dinner together and ate at his island, talking about all of your family’s traditions for this time of year and gushing about how much you were looking forward to being home for the holiday. You’d head straight to Jared and Gen’s home in Austin from the airport and spend the night there so that you could attend their holiday party and drive to Dallas the next day. You were so excited to see your family, and Jensen’s. They were sort of a package deal, becoming one large family over the years. You adored his parents, and always had. His home was your escape and yours was his, and each set of parents treated the two of you as one of their own. You’d spent many nights having dinner with the Ackles’ and he had a standing invitation at your table, courtesy of both of your parents and your sister. She was fiercely protective of both of you, taking to Jensen as if he was her little brother since he was born. In fact, the shared family tradition of Christmas Eve dinner began because she was afraid that you would miss Jensen too much if you went a few days without seeing him. She threw an enormous fit one evening when you started to cry, and she had it in her mind that it was because you weren’t with your best friend. You were only three, and at the time your sister was six years old, and so the tradition came to last. You would gather together, eat, and open gifts with everyone piled into a small space to exchange. This year, they had elected to do a secret Santa and you were lucky enough to draw Jensen’s mom.

You each finished up your meals and cleaned up the kitchen before plopping down on his large, u-shaped sectional that faced his entertainment center that house a huge TV and showcased his DVDs, record player and collection of albums and 45’s. You were fortunate to live in the same apartment complex as he did, though Jensen’s paychecks were obviously a bit larger than yours. He had refused to allow you to be in a separate building from him when you moved from Texas to Vancouver, so he found one that was secure enough for someone with a bit of fame but wasn’t too overpriced that you couldn’t afford it on your salary. He even offered to pay a portion of your rent to ensure he wouldn’t be too far away, but thankfully this building had worked out for both of you. It had a doorman and was as secure as it could be, so you took the one-bedroom apartment on the same floor as Jensen’s two bedroom. His was larger, but you had a better view in your opinion.

He had set up all of your bounty from the bakery on the coffee table and made a bowl of popcorn, your steaming mugs of hot chocolate nestled between all of the goods.

“C’mere.” He gestured, encouraging you to curl into his side.

He pulled his cell from underneath his leg and snapped a few photos of the two of you smiling for the camera. Then, he grabbed a handful of popcorn and held it to his mouth, taking another picture with it spilling from every corner and cascading toward his lap as you laughed at his funny expression. His eyes were wide as he made a ridiculous face, but it was always one of your favorite sides of him. He had many, to be sure, but that man could make your sides hurt with laughter at any point in time when he was simply carefree and looking to be a jokester. It was one of the many things you loved about him – his ability to make you laugh like no one else could, but he was also the sweetest man you’d ever met. You settled back into your spot underneath his arm, taking the bowl from his hands as he tossed his phone on the cushion next to him and picked up a few stray pieces of popcorn, tossing one at you. You threw it back, but he caught it and pitched it into his mouth with a victorious grin. You rolled your eyes playfully before munching on some yourself. He laid his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressed his lips to your hairline and kissing you on the side of your head.

“You should’ve taken that picture… that would’ve gone over well.” You half joked.

He raised an eyebrow in your direction with an inquisitive glint, “You think? Should we do it?”

Shrugging, you nodded indifferently. Again, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that you were doing, but it would make people talk, so he grabbed his phone once more and repeated the kiss. This time, you smiled but didn’t look directly at the camera, letting your eyes flutter closed until he pulled his mouth away. When you looked up at him through your lashes, you heard another click.

Showing you his screen, he thumbed through the few he’d taken, the last two made you suck in a sharp breath. He left his eyes and mouth slightly open and had a huge smile as his lips attached to the crown of your head, the crinkles around his eyes accentuated slightly and he was looking off into the distance. The last one he took made your heart swell. It looked like two people in love, staring into each other’s eyes. You were both smiling but giving each other such looks of adoration that even you would buy it, and you were in on the rouse.

It was easy to be with him. Your relationship was not give and take, but mutual exchange and the type of comfort you can only have after knowing someone for so many years. He knew you in a way no one else ever would, and you had been through every up and down together. When he’d left for L.A. to pursue acting, it hurt all that much more because it felt like that would all be lost. You were grateful that even after those few years, everything fell back into place as soon as you were near each other again. Success and fame hadn’t changed him, at least the him that you got to know. He was still the same man you’d always known and had matured with, the boyish charm he’d always had and the distinguished charisma that he’d grown into combining into who he was today.

He elected to post the first few photos, captioning them #matchingjammies and #nopopcornforyou @y/i/h, looking for your approval and causing you to chuckle against him before he put his phone down once again. “We’ll save the others.” he mentioned casually.

It wasn’t long before you’d picked your way through as many treats as you could, both satisfied that your sweet tooth had been satiated. About halfway through your second movie, you were resting your eyes once again coiled against him, comforted that everything smelled like Jensen.

It wasn’t until the credits rolled of The Grinch that he noticed you were sleeping. Your head was nestled against his chest, with your knees pulled to you tightly and the blanket tucked beneath your chin.

This time, Jensen scooped you up and carried you to his bedroom, holding you close to his chest and ignoring his spare bed down the hall. He pulled back the covers and tucked you beneath them before removing his button up pajama shirt and climbing in himself, leaving him in his pajama pants and a fitted white t-shirt.

He could have woken you up but, frankly, he didn’t want to. Something told him that he couldn’t bear to have you go home to your apartment, not just yet. He wanted another night of sleeping next to you, of holding you close and feeling you beside him. The thought caused him to wonder, even in his sleepy mind, if he could continue to pretend any longer.

To be continued...

…………………………………………………………………………………………

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It was you

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Jensen Only

@mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

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dancingthesambaa · 3 years

Text

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 3

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 3: Shadows of the Past

“Mhmmmmm,” Mei's eyes sparkled as she munched on the moon cake on the outdoor patio. “This is the most amazing thing I have ever eaten, I don’t even think the chefs can top this.”

“I seriously have to ask your parents what they do one day,” Macaque said as he ruffled her hair and picked up the empty plates with his hands and used his tail to set down the plate of mooncakes right beside an assortment of origami made by both Macaque and the kids. They were in the shapes of people, a vulture, monkey, jellyfish, rabbit, lion, and other varieties of animals and objects. They had a little too much fun making them all. After he put the dishes in the soap-filled sink he took off his apron and sat down next to MK, who was stuffing his face, “cause there is no way they can have normal jobs to have a chef.”

“I think they dig stuff up,” Mei shrugged her shoulders.

“Archaeologist,” he mused as he snatched up a sugar ring from MK plate, receiving an outraged ‘Hey’ from MK, “Didn’t think they were the down and dirty people, though...” The first time he met them was when Mei wanted to go visit MK at their house for his tenth birthday. Nice people, a bit cutthroat and sharp tongue, but nice people, especially when it comes to the safety of their daughter. “I have been wrong before.”

“It’s nice to hear you admit that,” a deep voice chuckled as both the kids jumped up in fright at the unexpected voice.

“Yeah yeah yeah, can it kitty cat,” Mac grumbled as he took a bite of the sugar ring, then wrinkled his nose at the sweet taste. “Can’t afford Raki to hear that.”

A figure softly leaped down from out of nowhere and by the lanterns' soft glow, they saw that the figure was dressed in an extravagant red robe that had rings of gold displayed all across, but the kids were more focused on the figure being a giant lion demon than anything else.

“I brought Eight Treasure Rice Pudding,” he tempted him as he held up the dessert in one hand and a floating lantern in the other.

“Well then you're more than welcome to join,” the monkey jokes, “Happy New Year kitty.”

“Happy New Year,” he said as he put the tray down and gave a smile as he noticed that Macaque was not alone, “and a Happy New Year to the both of you as well, I’m Ahmed.”

“MK!” The boy greeted him as his eyes went from the figure to the pudding.

“Mei the name and let me say that the pudding smells really good,” she drooled a bit.

“Well I hope it is, here,” he cut a slice for the two of them and sat down on the other side of Mac once the two began to dig in.

“Delicious!” They both said in glee.

“Bottomless pit I swear,” the monkey demon muttered.

“Your food is just that delicious,” Ahmed teased and gave a small nudge to his shoulder.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Mac then took notice of his mane and gave a small eye twitch, “oi when’s the last time you took care of that mane of yours?”

The lion stiffens as he avoided eye contact, “oh not too long ago.”

“How long?”

“I don’t quite remember it could have been-,”

“How. Long.”

“....a few months ago.”

“I swear-what is with you guys and not taking care of your goddamn fur,” Mac grumbled as he forced the lion head to lay down on his lap as he began to fix his fur, “only can count on Bohai to take proper care.”

“But he doesn’t even have any fur,” the demon tried to refute, only to be met with a stink eye.

“And he can still take better care than the rest of you lot.”

“Does this happen a lot?” Mei pointed out the scene and MK nodded.

“Tons, usually it’s with Daiyu since she tends to get blood in her wings, the monkeys, or even me.” He can’t remember the first time he had his hair played with, but once it began it just never stopped. “He said that monkeys tend to the other fur when they care for the other.”

“Ohhh,” then Mei's eyes widened, and had to hold back a large smile as she realized that Macaque had been messing with her hair for the past month. He may be gruff, but he is just one big softy on the inside. Though she couldn’t help but take a longer look at the pair and noticed that the lion's eyes were closed in pure content...like a cat, she couldn’t hold back a giggle.

Ahmed's ears perked up and looked towards her, Mac's eyes didn’t even move from his grooming as he was used to both children's strange outburst, and he saw the young child just eerily smile at him. He decided that it would be better if he just ignored all of that.

Almost an hour later, Mei noticed that a soft glow of light was slowly flying above the forest. “Hey what’s that?”

They all looked in the direction of her pointed finger and it was MK who reacted first.

“Someone released their lantern! Can we do it now!” He eagerly said as he watched many more lights begin to emerge from the treetops.

Mac laughed as he pushed the purring cat off his lap, who didn’t take any offense as he stretched, and grabbed the lanterns, “yeah we can.”

“Yes!” He grabbed his lantern and waited by the edge of the patio with Mei.

“Don’t forget yours as well rocky,” he handed a lantern to the surprised Mei.

She blinked, a bit taken aback by the sudden action, but smiled brightly, “thanks fluffy!”

“Not fluffy,” he muttered as he slapped his tail at the back of the laughing lion's head. The two joined them with their lanterns and at once they all released it in the air as they all joined the small trove of floating lanterns in the air as the light almost illuminated the pink forest in its entirety.

They watched the scene until they could no longer see it anymore and when they thought it was all done they diverted their attention to the first crackle of fireworks and the kids cheered loudly as much more came.

“If I was a snake, where would I be?” MK hummed as he looked through the trees, hoping he didn't run into any creepy crawly spiders, as he tried to find his slithery friend.

The Qilin merely snorted as he laid down against the Yao grass, MK met him one day when he was visiting Whatever. He tried so many times to call him Shui Gui or Kappa, but the webbed spirit would just ignore him, and the horse-like creature trotted from across the lake and up to him, and after a moment of staring, just decided to take a nap next to him. Ever, MK managed to haggle that nickname out of him, once again busted out laughing and left a confused eleven year old.

“They have to be around here somewhere,” he grumbled as he searched further through the woods only to stumble upon an open clearing with an old house in the middle. “Huh, didn’t know anyone lived here.”

He walked closer to the home and he gave a cheerful yell “Hello! Anyone home?!”

No response.

“Doesn’t seem like they're here right now...let’s take a closer look,” he mischievously scurried over to the open window and peeked inside to see that it almost looked like he traveled back to the Tang Dynasty, see he has been paying attention to history, take that Dad.

“I wonder who could live here?” He pondered as he looked through the clean wooden and sun dried brick structure. “It actually looks clean, but everything is just so...well old?”

“What are you doing here kit?” He jumped up at the melodic voice.

“You scared me Ní!” He yelled at the Huli Jing, the brown nine-tailed fox.

“Well everyone needs a good scare every once in a while,” they said with a grin as they walked forward.

“Course I did,” he grumbled as he turned to face the shack, “so do you know whose house this is?”

Sadly, the fox smiled, “just one filled with fond memories kit, now come,” they nudged him away from the old home. “I heard that you were looking for our lost slithery friend of ours.”

“Yeah, they took my fidget spinner after learning that they could spin it on their tail,” he huffed as he once again.

“I presume you mean our Xian,” she hummed as they walked back to the trees.

“Who else?”

“Well there are our many reptilian friends amongst the trees, for all I know you could mean our biggest companion,” they teased.

MK looked at the fox as if they were crazy, “I don’t think that there even is a fidget spinner big enough for her.”

“You never know,” they swished their tails as they made it back to where the Qilin was and they took on a grin, “oh, it seems that we have found them.”

MK's eyes twitched as he saw that the snake was just chilling next to the horned horse beast as they played with the spinner, “Hey!”

All nine snakeheads lift at the voice and with a unison hiss, they promptly slither away with fidget spinner in hand, or rather tail in their case.

“Don’t you dare run! Get back here with that! I need it for class!”The boy yelled as he ran after the Xiangliu with much fervor.

“-but how?!” MK threw his hands in the air, “Monkey King has all these amazing powers, it doesn’t make sense that he can’t use them underwater.

“He is a stone monkey!” Mei pointed out to a section of the book as she leaned against MK’s bed, “stone sink, not float!”

“But he can still transform into all these different animals, can’t he just make himself a fish or something?”

“He is still stone!”

“But he can fly!”

“I don’t know magic,” she was half tempted to throw her book at her friend, she doesn’t have all the answers either.

“Then why can’t he use it underwater then?!” He was then hit by a thrown book as he fell off the bed, “you didn’t have to throw it at me.”

“Well maybe I did,” she crossed her arms and just laid down on top of him, “this is so confusing...maybe we can ask Mac, he knows a thing or two about magic.”

“He does,” the thirteen year old shot straight up, knocking Mei off, but then he slumped down when a thought occurred to him, “but he’s currently helping Ning right now.”

“Ning?” She asked as she sat back up.

“She’s a client,” he added.

“Oohh...I wonder what she’s in for?”

“When she sneezes or burps, she breathes fire,” MK easily answered. He already saw this happen when she first crawled in, she gave a wave to him, but quickly turned away when she sneezed. He is glad that the wood in the house has been enchanted to be fireproof, cause he doubted that there would have been a house standing after that fireball.

“She’s a dragon!” Mei got in his face, if there was one creature she loved it would hand down be the dragons.

“No, just a lizard demon.”

“Well technically dragons are reptiles,” she slumped down, her dreams of seeing the magnificent beast being thoroughly crushed. She then picked up the Journey to the West book and she gave an amused huff as she saw what page it landed on. “I still find it funny that your dad shares the same name as Monkey King rival.”

MK shared her grin, “it is pretty funny, like can you imagine him going toe to toe with the Monkey King.”

Mei’s grin widened, “the same monkey who let me put braids in his fur with ribbons!”

“The one who has a heart attack each time I get a bruise out in the forest,” he joined in.

“Who wears aprons when cooking food!”

“Let the baby monkey cling onto him!”

“He makes medicine for any demon or human that stops by!”

“He uses scented shampoo cause he likes the smell and it makes his fur soft,” the two couldn’t help but roll on the floor laughing.

“Do you want to hear something even more hilarious,” MK grinned.

“What?!” Mei asked after her laughter died down.

“There are some customers who even call him the Six-eared Macaque,” he snorted even louder.

Mei's face completely froze, “Huh?”

“Yeah,” he vigorously nodded, not taking any notice of his friend's change of mood, “I heard them call him with full respect and everything!”

“...what?”

“And what’s even better, he has six ears!”

“What?!” MK jumped up at Mei’s outburst.

“What was that for?!”

“You just told me that he has six ears?!” She began to shake him. “Do you not realize what you just implied?!”

“NoOoOo,” he shakily answered.

Mei then dropped him as she reached back towards the book and flipped through the pages until she found another, “oh my god, how could I have not realized it before!”

“What?” He asked as he managed to sit back up.

“Shadow manipulation, clones, stealthy,” she read out some of the powers, “they both share almost the same abilities! Hell, he even is a black-haired monkey!”

“Fur, but yeah and?” He still didn’t get what she was implying.

“And doesn’t he have super hearing?” She pressed further hoping that her dense friend would get it.

“Yes andddd?” He didn’t.

She pushed the book to his face, “Your Dad is the Six-Eared Macaque from the book!”

“What?! No he isn’t,” he snatched the book from her hands, “I mean it doesn’t make any sense, he may be grumpy, but he is not anything like the one from the story! He is downright mean and cruel!”

“Well, maybe he changed?!” She threw her hands in the air, “it won’t be that big of a stretch, I mean 500 years is a long time.”

“But I have never seen him fight before, not even when Daiyu would plead to him for a spar, he would just roll his eyes.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t fight when you're around,” she threw in her answer.

“But, but, but it just can’t,” MK threw the book away from him, “it just can’t.”

“MK,” Mei worriedly put a hand on his shoulder, “are you okay?”

“Yes-no-I don’t know,” he leaned on the ground with a groan. “He just can’t be the same one from the book okay.”

“Well, why not?”

“He can’t, he can’t because if he is then he has purposefully kept this a secret from me,” he whispered out.

“Then that’s more reason to ask him,” Mei insisted.

“No!” He shot up and grabbed her shoulders, “we can’t!”

“Well why not!”

“It might not even be him!”

“But what if it is?!” She countered back.

“But what if it's not,” he firmly stood his ground.

“And if it is?”

“It’s not!”

“It is!”

“It’s not!”

“It is!”

“It’s not!”

“MK, we have to ask him.”

“Ask me what?” They both scooted back in shock when the said monkey demon walked into the room. “I’m hoping by those reactions that you were just startled and not guilty of doing something you weren’t supposed to.” He decided to check out their yells after he had finished with his patient.

The two shot a look at one another.

“Right?”

“Yeah, nothing bad, nothing and at all,” MK nervously said as he scratched the back of his neck and avoided his golden eyes.

“You know that right there isn’t helping your case,” Mac deadpanned.

“It's just that we have a question,” Mei butted in as she grabbed the tossed book.

“Mei no,” MK tried to stop her, but she was determined to get her answers.

“Are you the same Six-Eared Macaque from the book?!” The pigtailed girl showed him the Journey to the West book up to him.

Macaque stilled at the question for a moment before easing down as he took a look at the book, “Huh, haven’t read this book in a while,” he said noncommittally.

“Well? Are you?!” Mei pushed him for the answer, she was not leaving until she got one.

Even MK was silently watching this whole interaction but didn’t move an inch, because deep down, even he wanted to know.

The monkey demon let out a sigh as he nodded, “yeah, I am.”

It was silent as the two kids took in that information.

MK's mind was racing, he didn’t know what to even think. The cruel demon in the story, the one who constantly attacked innocent people, killed so many, clashed fiercely against the Monkey King, is the same one who found him all those years ago and took care of him. It just doesn’t make any sense!

“Want to talk here or in the living room?” Macaque’s voice pierced through the silence.

It took a moment before MK finally responded, “living room.”

“Alright, I’ll go make some tea. This won’t be an easy talk,” he said as he began to reach out to ruffle his hair only to stop at his child's nervous stare. He puts his hands down and promptly walks out of the room and turns away to the kitchen, while he ignores the tight squeeze in his chest.

“So,” Mac sat down on the opposing chair from the couch that had the two kids on it as the pot of tea and a bowl of peeled mangos sat in the middle of the table, “where do you want me to start?”

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” MK blurred out first as he clenched his fist. “Or was this gonna be kept in the dark.”

“When you turned 18, I was gonna sit down with you and talk about this,” he firmly told his son. “I had no intention in hiding this from you forever.”

MK didn’t reply as he lowered his head.

“The beginning is usually a good place,” Mei tried to joke, but only the demon gave a small smirk as MK stayed silent.

“That’s as good a place as any, well before that book ever took place, before even the thought of the Journey took place, me and Sun Wukong were friends.”

“You were friends?!” This time MK didn’t stay silent as both kids shouted.

“Surprising right,” he mirthlessly chuckled.

“It never said anything like that in the books!” Mei exclaimed as she held up her book.

“Well first that’s a kid-friendly book of the story,” he pointed out the childish cartoon design on the front cover. “Don’t think they want kids reading books about graphic violence, especially with the disembowelment and all types of gore,” he muttered the last part quietly to himself. “And second, not everything you read or hear is correct.”

“Huh?”

“History is told by the victors and survivors, not by those who lie dead,” he softly said.

“Oh,” Mei shuffled at the uncomfortable thought.

“So how did you two meet?” MK prompted.

“When we first met, he looted some food from a shrine and got caught like an idiot, which pissed off the mountain god.”

“He did?!”

“Yeah, this was way before he met Subodhi, the one who taught Wukong about how to take on immortality.” He reminisces back to the scene where he met his first friend.

‘Shit! Shit! Shit!’ Sun Wukong leaped from rock to rock as he tried to get as much distance as he could from him and the deity. He spotted a cluster of rocks that looked like it had some amount of cover as he leaped behind it and waited. “All I wanted was some damn food! How was I supposed to know that it was supposed to go to a God?! It makes no damn sense to just leave food lying out!” He whispered angrily.

“So you're the one who pissed him off,” Wukong managed to suppress a yelp as he noticed that he wasn’t alone in his hiding spot. It was a bit surprising to see that it was a Monkey demon like him, only with black fur and a red scarf hiding the bottom of his face. “One would think that you shouldn’t piss off a deity, but that is just my opinion,” he snarked.

“Well one shouldn’t leave food lying out like an idiot,” he shot back.

“So you decided to steal from a mountain God? Yeah, real smart,” Macaque drawled out. “Usually I steal from fields, but you took the idiot crown today.”

“How was I supposed to know that it was for someone!” He retorted.

“Just by looking at it dumbass, have you never seen a shrine before?”

“What’s a shrine?” He questioned.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he deadpanned. “How can you not know? Were you living under some kind of rock before?”

“No, I was born from one!” He cheekily grinned.

“...I don’t know if you're insane or if that’s just the weirdest thing I heard,” he then froze as he dragged Wukong closer to the rocks.

“Wha-,” he was about to break free but was hushed by his fellow hider.

“Shhh,” he silently pointed to the right of them and after a moment noticed that a shadow was getting larger. Wukong smartly decided, for the first time, to keep his mouth shut.

It was only after the shadow left did the two relax.

“So I guess we’re stuck here for awhile,” the brown-furred monkey sprawled against the rocks and made himself comfortable, “I’m Sun Wukong, but people call me the Monkey King.”

The other monkey let out a burst of laughter at his ridiculous name, “Ha! Yeah, no I’m not calling you that. I’m Liu Er Mihou.”

“Pfft, boring,” he grumbled back as he then got curious, “so why are you hiding behind this rock anyways? You certainly were here long before I was.”

“Well unlike you, I was taking a nice nap before this happened,” he smirked as he leaned back.

“Just napping you say,” his eyes happen to spot a bag filled with different goods and food.

“Well napping after I nicked off some things from the fields and market and unlike you, I didn’t get caught.”

“Would have been helpful, but-,” they were cut off when a huge explosion erupted from underneath them.

“You thought you could run from me you little ape!” The mountain God’s echoey voice boomed out. “I am one with all upon this mountain! Every pebble is my ears! Every rock is my voice! You can-,” he was cut off by a voice angrily yelling at him.

“I’m not an ape!” Wukong screeched as the two of them started to run.

“That’s what you're concerned about?!” Liu Er confusedly asked though it was laced with a twinge of amusement and fear.

“I have a tail!” He emphasized the tail carrying the bag of food. “Obviously not an ape!”

“You can’t run forever little ape,” the voice snarled out with every crushed rock booming behind them.

“You got one more time to call me an ape!” He yelled out as his eye twitched.

“And what are you gonna do about it little. Ape.” The voice mockingly said with a toothy grin.

“That’s it!” The angered monkey stopped in his tracks as he flung the bag over to Macaque, “hold this!” And with that, his eyes started to glow bright yellow as he flung himself at the God.

“What are you doi-,” he cut himself off as he noticed that the impulsive monkey that he was hiding with had suddenly begun to shoot lasers from his eyes. “Huh, maybe there was something about him being born from the stone that was true.”

“GHA stop that!” The Mountain God wheezed out as he was hit by another bludgeoning punch from the mortal monkey.

“Not so tough now are you!” He mocked as he sent a flying kick towards the immortal being, only for him to slink down into the mountain. “Oh now who's the coward! Come out and fight me!”

“This dumbass,” Macaque grumbled as he was half-tempted to just take the bag and run, but even he doubted that he would hold up against the enraged monkey like this. His ears twitched as he heard the lingering God about to move so he yelled to Sun, “you might want to duck, he’s about to strike from the left.”

Sun Wukong heard him and managed to leap high enough to avoid the Mountain God claws, “got you now fucker!” And with a couple of spins, he struck down upon the God and landed a killing blow upon his head. “That’s what you get.”

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Macaque said as he casually walked up next to him, tossed his stolen bag of food, and examined the dead God.

“Thanks!” He cheerfully reverted from his enraged form once he got his food and happily began to chew on an apple as he sat down against the fallen God. “So how did you know that the God was there?” He curiously asked as he took another bite.

Liu Er blinked at the odd scene and let loose a snort as he sat down a little ways away from him. “Well seeing that you managed to kill a God with your bare hands, mine is definitely not weirder than yours,” he said as he pulled down his scarf to reveal his two extra pairs of ears.

“Cool!” Wukong's eyes glisten as he immediately began to touch his ears.

Macaque only flinched for a moment at the unexpected touch, but became a little more at ease when he didn’t feel any sharp pulling or twisting the longer he touched them, but he batted his hand away, “Heard of personal space?”

It was after the two had eaten that Mac decided to speak again, “alright let’s make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Wukong hesitantly asked.

“You are shit when it comes down to stealing,” he bluntly told him.

“Rude, fair, but rude.”

“But I can.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“How about we team up for a bit, with your strength and my stealth, I think the two of us make out with a lot more goods than this,” he tossed up their near empty bags.

“Hmmm, I don’t know. How do I know that you can actually steal,” Wukong pointed out, but the six eared monkey smirked.

“Well you haven’t noticed this,” he tossed up the half eaten apple in his other hand.

“Wha-,” his eyes widened as he now noticed that the apple in hand had disappeared in a poof of violet energy. “How did you do that?”

“Misdirection,” he tossed his apple back to him.

Wukong blinked as he caught the apple then a large grin took up his face as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “I think that this is the start of a beautiful relationship.”

“And the start of so many headaches,” Mac couldn’t help but grumble out.

“Well you can only blame yourself.”

“I already am.”

“So you two had stuck together from that moment,” MK said as he stayed in his seat with his knees covering his face.

“For all of nine years, until he left to learn under Subodhi, then I was free roaming once more. Though I did learn a few things from Wukong as it made my travels a bit easier,” Mac said as he took a sip from his lukewarm tea.

“And he probably learned a few things from you...like how to steal so many things from the celestial realm,” Mei's eyes widened as the realization hit her. “Now that’s how he managed to do that! You taught him how to steal!”

The simian paused as that hadn’t occurred to him in the slightest, “...to be fair I didn’t teach him shit, he simply watched what I was doing and used it in practice. All the havoc he managed to cause in the celestial realm and below was his reckless ideas, I had nothing to do with that...for the most part.”

“But the Monkey King is an immortal being,” MK interjected, “and you're not...unless.”

“Yeahhh, I’m immortal too,” he sipped his tea at their dumbfounded stares.

“How?!”

“Once again, blame Sun Wukong for that.”

“I’m sorry, run that by me again,” Mac let the book hang freely from his hands as he listened to Wukong.

“You're immortal! You can thank me with words of praise and/or delicious food,” he cheekily grinned at him as he hung upside down from the tree branch above.

The monkey demon had to blink for a moment and take a deep breath before closing his book and putting full attention to his friend, “I’m almost scared to ask how the fuck you managed to pull that off, but also dying to know.”

“Well,” the simian jumped down to the same branch as Macaque, “I was kidnapped by Yama lackeys, which was uncool you know, I earned my immortality fair and square,” he huffed out.

“You got kidnapped by the emissaries of the God of Death...okay that’s kinda funny,” he cracked a grin.

“Well it wasn’t for me,” he crossed his arms, “so I kicked all of their asses and spoke with some old folks, who call themselves the ten kings which is a stupid title itself, to get things straight you know and they tried to do? They tried to pull a fast one on me and say that they meant to take another Sun Wukong, which I call bullshit on. I mean who else is a stone monkey that’s name is Sun Wukong?”

“No one,” Mac snorted as his partner threw his hands in the air.

“Exactly! So they take me to the place where they keep track of the ones dying and we all look around to find where those names happen to be and lo and behold, I found my name and you want to know what I did?”

“You erased your name,” he was getting more and more amused by this, he can only imagine the chaos that must have happened due to Wukong antics.

“I erased my name! And I also decided that I wasn’t gonna be alone in this so I decided to erase some of the other monkeys back at Flower Fruit Mountain and I found your name and I erased that too,” he proudly grinned. “You can’t believe the sheer amount of panic that was on all of their faces when they realized what I did.”

“I really can’t,” he chuckled as he then scooted over and wrapped his arm around his neck in affection, “thanks for immortality I guess, never thought I would ever get anything close to that.”

“Well a little more praise than that would be nice,” he teased as he felt the back of his head get slapped.

“Oh, I’m sorry your royal highness, did that harm your oh so precious fur of yours?” Mac took on a haughty tone, “let me be the first to go to my knees and bow for your kind gesture that you have bestowed upon me.”

“Shut up,” Wukong snorted as he nudged his friend's shoulder.

“You asked for it,” the black furred monkey tone returned to normal as he grabbed his book and began to read it once more. Though he was interrupted by Sun sprawling over his lap all of a sudden, “can I help you?”

“Read to me!” He demanded.

“Don’t you get bored with stuff like this? Actually, I’m surprised you haven’t already left to cause some sort of chaos at this point Sunny?”

“Meh, don’t feel like moving now, so read to me!”

Mac knew that when he got like this there was little to change his mind, so with a mockingly reluctant sigh he said, “As his highness wishes,” and began to continue where he left off. It was during that, when Macaque was lost in the book and Wukong was lost in the soft words, did two tails slowly curl up and intertwine with one another.

“You know, it’s a bit surreal to hear that the Gods are real,” Mei hummed out. “I mean reading about it is one thing, but knowing someone who actually met with a God is another.”

“If you think that’s surreal then that’s nothing compared to actually meeting one,” Mac pointed to her.

“Trueeee.”

“So what happened next?” MK spoke up as he managed to get out of his curled up position halfway through the story and was instead leaning in close.

“Well you know what happens next, he gets a position in the heavens, his infamous havoc in heaven, left the heavens, fought some gods, got tricked by Buddha and he had the mountain pin him down for 500 years or so,” he casually said.

“Only you would manage to screw it up big time huh peaches,” Liu Er said as he jumped off the top of the mountain and back down next to his friend. “I mean, what were you thinking?”

“Heyyy mango,” Wukong nervously chuckled, “I might have pissed off all the gods in the heavens, you know how it goes.”

“Yeah I heard, but how did they do this,” he gestured to the entire mountain.

“Well, that was maybe...Buddha,” he softly said the last part, but Macaque didn’t have six ears for nothing.

“You managed to piss off Buddha themself,” he said incredulously. “How in the fuck?!”

“I didn’t piss him off!” He said in defense, “I just maybe lost a bet with him.”

“You lost a bet with Buddha.”

“Look, it's complicated!” He huffed as he tried to wiggle under the mountain, “look there’s a seal on the top of this mountain, if you can just rip it off I can easily-,”

“Already tried that,” he showed him his blackened fingers, “didn’t quite work for me.”

“Well shit there goes that idea,” he muttered as a horrible thought occurred to him, “Flower Fruit mountain! The tribe-you have to-,” he was cut off once again.

“Already have a few clones stationed there since you got that position in heaven dumbass,” he whacked his head, “you don’t have to worry about them, now let’s think of a way to free you.”

Wukong let out a breath of relief as he lay his head against the ground. “It ain’t gonna be easy you know.”

Macaque grinned cheekily at him as he sat down next to him and his dark purple daxiushan flared out underneath him, “who said it ever was,” he joked as he began to groom his friend's fur.

“Might have to go against the Gods,” he said as he relaxed to the grooming.

“You can’t have all the fun,” he retorted back.

The Monkey King merely hummed as the grooming went, they can discuss more later, but he sorely needed this.

“But you didn’t free him,” Mei quietly pointed out.

“No, I didn’t,” he shook his head as his tail silently swooshed behind him.

“But you did something,” MK noticed that something was amiss by his relaxed position as he ate a peeled mango.

“Welll, let’s just say that there was a reason why Guanyin happened to find Wukong.”

“You tricked Guanyin,” Mei deadpanned.

“I wouldn’t say trick, more like a gust of wind in the right direction,” he knew that he teetered along the line when he subtly diverted the God's attention to his friend. He heard through some of his contacts that they were looking for immortals for the Journey, so he managed to arrange some coincidental happenings that maybe got the Goddess of mercy to float in Wukong’s direction.

“You tricked Guanyin,” Mei still bluntly told him.

“Anyways,” Macaque ignored Mei as he picked up his empty cup, “then you all know the rest, Wukong infamous Journey to the West and all that.”

“But that doesn’t explain how you went from friends to enemies in the book,” MK pressed and watched as his father's shoulder slightly slumped.

“I-,” he looked down to his empty cup and sighed, “I was an idiot, I-I thought he was being tortu-something cruel was being done to him. When Tripitaka used that sutra, I thought they had managed to enslave my friend and harm him,” he gripped his cup before setting it down, he refused to dive further in that memory. “Clearly I was wrong and you know how that went down.”

The two once again became silent as they took in the information.

“Okay, okay,” Mei nodded as she crossed her legs, “but here’s what’s confusing me. In the Journey to the West, it told you were ruthless, but I know that in some other books it is said that you are a minor deity of trickery and medicine and that you would help wandering travelers by giving them medicine and give them protection by tricking the bandits and Gods. So what is that about?”

“Okay that minor deity thing is just not true,” Mac pinched his nose, “I still don’t know who even put that down in the first place.”

“How did you change?” MK added as well.

“Well,” he let out a soft smile, “I met someone.”

“Ooooo,” the two couldn’t help themselves.

“No,” he firmly told them, “No. No-fuck no. Hell no. Hell to the no. By all the Gods-no just no,” he shuddered. “It’s not anything like that at all.”

“Who was it?” MK asked.

“It was a weird man named Ping who found me on the side of the road somehow and decided to just drag my body to his house,” he snorted at their confused faces. “Yeah, that was me when I first awoke.”

Macaque groggily came to as he heard the faint sound of clinking metals coming a little ways away from him, but as he got up a sharp pain emerged from his entire body as he fell back to the bed.

“Shit, what the hell knocked me ou-...oh,” his memories came back to him in a rush as he remembered just who exactly did this to him. “Fuck, but why? Why, why why!” He gripped his fur and then his right eye as he noticed that there was a distinct lack of sight from that one, “it doesn’t make sense! Why the fuck would he, just why?!”

“So you're finally awake,” he had to freeze as for the first time in a long while, he was snuck up on, “you were knocked out for quite some time.” The monkey turned to see a graying middle aged man wipe his hands on the cloth.

“Who are you,” he went on the immediate defense. He doesn’t sense any celestial or demonic aura coming from him, but he knows it better wary than dead.

“People call me Ping,” he gave a small bow to him, “it’s nice to see you awake.”

“...Are you blind by any chance,” Macaque couldn’t help but blurt out. “Cause there's no way in hell would someone be happy on seeing a demon alive unless they were a goddamn monk…” he couldn’t help but narrow his eyes.

“Ohoho, believe me, I am no Monk,” the man chuckled as he began to pick up some materials from the side, “I have very little patience for just sitting around and meditating all day.”

“Can’t front ya there,” he grumbled as he tried to get back up only for him to wheeze in pain and cough viciously.

“Here, this will help your throat,” Ping handed him a steaming cup of tea that was next to a brown rabbit, which was a bit strange as he didn’t even notice it before.

The monkey hesitantly accepts it, he was unsure if the tea had poison in it, but decided that the human literally could have left him on the side of the road to die and spare him the troubles of killing him himself, so he took a sip of the tea and his nose scrunched up, “why is it sweet?”

“Not to your liking,” he chuckled as he sipped on his own cup.

“You know people-humans are usually terrified when encountering a demon,” he deadpanned as he realized that not only was he half clothed, but his six ears were out in the open. “Just saying.”

“And usually, most demons would have tried to take a bite out of me,” he retorted

“And that is usually enough to not even get close to one of us, let alone bring one to your home,” he emphasized.

“Well we're all a little bit crazy in this world,” Ping chortled as he ambled off to the other room. “You can leave when you want to!”

Macaque could only watch dumbfounded at what just took place as he loosely cradled the teacup in his hand. Though he could do without the rabbit gaze boring into him.

“So what happened next,” MK asked.

“I left,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“You just left?!” Mei shouted as she squished the fruit in her hand.

“Yep.”

“Why?!”

“I had no reason to stay with a man who just up and saved me for no reason, especially one who was so confident in his capabilities that I wasn’t going to attack him,” he pointed out.

“So where did you go?” MK asked next.

“A little bit of everywhere,” he lied a little, he may be spilling his secrets, but even he has a hard stop on some of his more personal ones. He was not about to tell them that he essentially stalked Wukong and his friends for a good portion of the Journey. “But, for some damn reason, I went back to Ping.”

“You went back?” Mei said as MK asked, “Why?”

“Curiosity? Boredom? I honestly still don’t know,” he sighed and leaned back in his chair. “But I just kept going back every few months and the strangest thing is, he would just give a slight wave and give me some tea. Each and every time, until eventually I stayed a bit longer.”

Macaque watched in interest as Ping began to crush some herbs together and mix them. He knows some of those plants and they tasted downright horrible. “What’s the point of making that? It doesn’t taste any good with food, old man.”

Ping simply chuckled as his rabbit laid silently to the side, “I'm not that old, unlike you. It helps with backaches, I know many of the elderly will need it in the coming winter, so it’s always good to prepare ahead.”

“Oohhh, that’s medicine,” Mac hummed. He hasn't seen much of it since he was able to heal fairly fast and also that usually medicine is one of the hardest items to steal due to it usually being hidden or secured.

“Would you like a closer look?” The graying man asked as he stepped a little to the side.

“Sure, why not,” he shrugged his shoulders as he watched with rapt attention to how the medicine was being made.

“He must have a lot of patience to be able to teach you,” Mei grinned.

The monkey huffed in amusement, “I honestly thought the same thing.”

“But how was he different?” MK hesitantly asked as all he heard was of Ping doing completely normal things. “How did he get you to...well change?”

“Does it matter that he was supposed to be some amazing being with special abilities,” he gave a small smirk.

“Well no,” he deflated a bit.

“Cause let me tell you that Ping was one of the farthest things to have anything godly about him. The only thing special about him was his strange ability to practically befriend anyone that passed him and that was it. He never went on any magical adventure, wasn’t appointed a great duty by a God, hell the man has never taken a single martial art or learned under any great sage before,” he couldn’t hold back laugh at their confused looks. “He never tried to force me to change into what he believed to be good.”

“Then why did you keep going back?” Mei jumped off the couch and leaned over the table. “If he didn’t have anything mystical about him, why did you keep going back?”

“Have you ever heard the age-old question on if you can teach a monster how to love?” He suddenly asks, throwing them all off guard.

“No?”

“Cause the answer is no, but rather you have to show them,” he smiled fondly.

“...what does that have to do with this?” MK whispered out.

“He may not have any special abilities, but there was something about him, something- I can’t say good because it’s not strictly subjective in that, but just something comforting about him. About the way he wouldn’t bat an eye at my appearance, the way he would simply give me a cup of tea, the way he would let me stay when I had my bad days, just the way he was just was comforting,” he breathed in as he unhooked his fingers that he unconsciously grabbed together. “He was just Ping and that was enough for a monster to change.”

“You're not-/Don’t believe-,” he cut off both kids.

“I know I did...horrible things in the past, things can’t be redeemable no matter how many times I may help those, I couldn’t forgive myself, but he showed me that I could.

“How?”

“I planted a seed.”

“What?”

“Oh yeah, I was just as confused as you guys were too,” he smiled as he leaned back. “He straight up told me to plant a seed each time my anger or frustration overwhelmed me.” He threw his hands in the air, “I didn’t know what he meant, by the Gods know how many of those things I planted even long after he passed.”

“So he did pass away,” Mei said underneath her breath.

“Humans tend to do that, especially with one as old as him,” he said with a small smile.

“You still kept planting,” MK huddled together as he wrapped his arms around his knees.

“...Yeah,” he wrapped his tail around his waist in comfort, “I didn’t know what else to do and I know I raged and cried, but I couldn’t just go down to Yama and demand his soul back or up to the heavens and just steal a peach. Not even the drunk old man could change fate,” he whispered that last part quietly. “I’m not that strong, so I did the only thing I could and just planted the seeds and plant and plant until one day I was interrupted.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but did you happen to grow these yourself?” The woman asked as she carried her child upon her back.

“Yeah, and?” He didn’t feel in the mood to even attempt to snark back against a human as he tended to some of the flowers.

“Well let me tell you that they're simply beautiful,” she smiled at him.

“Huh?” Mac froze at the sudden compliment.

“Yeah!” He looked down to see a young girl with a wide smile, “they are super pretty.”

“Very pretty,” another child shyly piped up as he peeled from behind his mother's skirt.

The monkey demon could faintly remember their goodbyes as they proceeded to walk away from him. “What beauty is there in a bunch of seeds?” He turned to look at his plants and for the first time, he realized that they haven’t been seeds in a very long time as they sprouted into a giant, pink, flourishing Plum Blossom trees-no not trees a blossoming forest.

“Oh.” He then decided to slowly walk through it all as he plunked a plum from one of the branches. “Damn, I must have been really out of it for so many years that I didn’t even realize that it...that it grew…during all these years it grew and grew into something beautiful.” He paused as he now realized what Ping was trying to show him for all these years, that even when he got angry and made so many mistakes, they can turn into something beautiful. He let out a full body laugh as he just screeched and screeched.

“Only you, you fucking coot! Only you would think of such a weird ass idea and actually be of help, I swear if you weren’t already dead I would be yelling at you for this!” He screeches as tears or amusement and anguish filled his eyes, “you made me plant a forest of mistakes and did a fuck you and made it something worthwhile, something beautiful!”

He eventually laid down with plum in hand, ears out as he listened to the chirps of the bird and rustles of the leaves and his heart didn’t feel as empty as before. “Couldn’t have told me straight out his thoughts,” he huffed with a watery smile as he took a bite out of the plum.

“You made this forest-the Plum Blossom forest?!” MK asks shockingly despite listening to the story.

“A good portion of it, yes, the rest done simply by Hòutû herself.”

“So what happened next?” Mei said as she kneeled and put her elbows on the table.

“Life happened and time slowly crawled forward and I slowly began to change and probably still will,” he shrugged his shoulders.

MK fidgeted in his seat before finally speaking up again, “so...what happens now.”

“That’s for you two to decide,” he stood up and stretched, “You're the only ones who can decide for yourself.” He picked up the empty plates and cup, “Take as much time as you need kiddos,” he began to walk away with a heavy heart.

He knew that he couldn’t force their minds into completely accepting him, but he prays, one of the very few times he does, that he didn’t fuck two of the few good things he had. He can accept that they may not forgive him, but he damn hopes that there is still a sliver of affection-he stiffen as he felt two pairs of arms hug tightly around his waist. “Wha-?”

“You can’t get rid of us that easily Goldilocks,” Mei smiled as she cuddled her face in his soft fur, “No amount of scares can force us away from you.”

“Mei-,”

“At first I was angry,” he heard his son's voice even when it was muffled against his fur. “You kept secrets and I didn’t like that, but you told me and I was so confused, still am, but you aren’t the same mean monkey in the past, I don’t think you would have saved me if you were the same as your past self and I am happy about that. I am happy that I know you now, because I may have not liked you and if I didn’t like you then I would have never stayed with you and I really don’t like that,” MK looked up at him with tears in his eyes as he hugged him tighter. “I really don't like the idea of never being here, being with you Dad, so thank you for being you, thank you and I love you so much.”

Liu Er barely had the forethought to place the dishes down before wrapping his arms around them both with a tight grip. “Well I guess you're stuck with me.”

“Like old gum stuck in your fur,” MK squeezed out through the fur.

“I swear you spend way too much time with Minsheng…love you too Starlight,” he huffed as he ruffled his child's hair.

“And besides,” Mei started, “you may be a grump but you're our grumpy monkey demon now. And if anyone tries to say otherwise then I would need to have a few words with them,” she ended with a wide creepy smile on her face as her eyes promised vengeance.

“I’ll direct them towards you little newt,” he chuckled as he also messed with her hair as well and gave them both a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Fuzz butt,” she shot back then got a gleam in her eyes, “a fuzz butt who can teach us how to fight.”

“No.”

“I’ll wear you down eventually,” she grinned, “sooo can we see what you really look like?” MK’s head shot up at that and shared the same gleam as well.

“Nosy, all of you,” he said as he gently pried them off of him, and in barely a flicker, he had transformed and he looked more...dangerous. His nails and teeth have become sharper, a few scars were more visible upon his hands and feet, the scar on his right eye was very prominent as it displayed a dull yellow pupil, even his ears seemed to add to his threatening appearance as the middle violet ear on the right was missing a portion of the upper cartilage.

“You look badass/So Cool!” Though he didn’t have to worry about scaring those two off as their eyes sparkled at his appearance and rushed to touch his fur as MK happily exclaimed as he put his face on his fluffy chest, “why does your fur feel even softer than before?!”

Macaque snorted loudly as he sat down on the floor and let them have a better reach, “shouldn’t even be surprised that was what you took away from this.”

“Seriously, now it looks like you actually know how to fight,” Mei ‘ooed’ as she felt some of his scars underneath his fur. “How’d this one happen,” she felt a faint scar right above the left shoulder.

“Well let me tell you that it all began by a river and I just found out that a certain monkey can’t fight underwater,” the two teenagers leaned in close as he began to tell the tale of the blood demon beast that rested underneath the river.

#monkie kid #mk #macaque #PlumTeaAU

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ofwolvesandbutterflies · 4 years

Text

pink silk, black leather

Jung Jaehyun x Reader

requested by anonymous

“You’re infuriating,” Jaehyun growled, ripping the black leather jacket off his shoulders to drape it much gently around your quivering body. “You call me in the middle of the night, in a sketchy bar on the outskirts of town and for what? I’m in the middle of a goddamn meeting and I get a call because you lost your left high heel?!” the fuming male slammed a hand down on the frame of his car mere centimeters from where your head rested. His dark eyes looked murderous and the icy glare he sent you shot a grimace down your spine. Despite the entirety of the unfortunate situation you had found yourself in with your body pressed against the cool metal of your best friend’s car and said man glowering at you, all you could think was damn, that man would make one hell of a good mafia boss.

“Jesus, Y/N,” He tore his frustrated gaze away from you to roll his neck. Though the chill of the evening had been enough to expel most of the drunkenness from your system, the intoxicated part of you greedily drank in the way the dark red dress shirt hugged his toned torso. The top three buttons of his top had been left open, only heightening the butterflies starting to form in the pit of your stomach. And you would have kept staring at your childhood friend for much, much longer had he not leaned in, rage flitting in his dark irises. “Couldn’t you have chosen a different day to go clubbing? My god, this is the worst evening...”

Well shit, you thought, a bitter taste filling your mouth and killing the butterflies as he went on, muttering on about his obvious distaste for the situation at hand. He didn’t need to yell so loudly.

“Jae-” you faltered when his gaze zeroed in on you. “I… You didn’t have to come- I mean, if you were that busy, I could have just called a cab...” the shamefully murmured words fell almost inaudibly from your lips. A lame excuse, really, but it was the only thing you could think of to say. A wretched combination of panic and hurt coursed through your bloodstream when Jaehyun gritted his teeth, glaring darkly at you. That, you thought to yourself. Had definitely been the wrong thing to say.

There had only been a couple of occasions you had seen your best friend get so heated, and up until now, none of those times had been directed at you. However, if his hair wasn’t so disheveled, if his eyes weren’t so crazed from sleep deprivation, if the bags under his eyes weren’t so dark… you just may have been angry, too.

“You didn’t have to come, Jaehyun,” he mocked you, pulling his usual baritone voice much higher than was necessary. The words - though just words - struck out at you and you winced as if you had just been slapped. Hot tears burned at your eyelids and he continued in his mimicry, oblivious to the hurt welling up in your stomach. You had known Jaehyun for long enough to know that he wasn’t angry at you, rather just at his wit’s end with work and misdirecting the stress. Still though, it didn’t make the accusations hurt any less.

“If you were that busy,” he went on imitating you, jaw clenched. “-you should have just left m- No!” Another grimace shook your body at the sheer volume of his voice. You bit your lip, fighting down the whimper. “I would come to get you even if you had called from China about scraping your knee! Dumb, right? But I guess that's what I get for caring so much about a clumsy kid like you, huh?” he barked, finally finished with his rant. A few pathetic sniffles sounded in the back of your throat and your best friend's eyes shot towards the tears streaked down your face. Horrified, Jaehyun shut his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

“Fuck," he sighed, all the anger and rage from before melted into tired exasperation as he rubbed a hand over his tired features. For a moment, his mouth opened and closed, trying to formulate some sort of apology for the unspeakable way he had just treated you.

“Jae...?” Shoving your fears aside, you stepped forward to cup his warm cheeks. His ivory eyes met yours, slowly, reluctantly and all you could see was tired regret. “Are you… are you done now?”

“...Yeah.” Dropping his forehead onto your shoulder, you let him pull you into his arms. "I just- I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean that. Any of that. It’s not your fault, none of this is because of you. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you and I’m- I… God, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to see me like that. It's just been a rough couple weeks at work, business deals falling through, people not doing their jobs correctly. It's hard, it's annoying, and half the time I'm like 'why are we even having meetings at 2 in the morning?'"

His words were muffled as they slid harshly down the skin of your shoulder, but all you could do was rub careful circles into his back. Jaehyun never talked much about his job to you and you never minded it. All you knew was that he was in business administration of some sort and most days you saw him, he had much too fancy of a suit on for the bruises and cuts littering his porcelain skin. You had learned not to ask him. The first time you inquired, he brushed you off quickly, telling you that when it came to spending time with you, it was strictly 'you time'; nothing would be said about his job because he wanted to keep work life and home life separate. You could respect that.

But you didn’t like this side of him. Jaehyun pulled away only enough to wipe at the dried tears on your cheeks. “I know you’re probably angry with me,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried for a smile. “-but please don’t hesitate to call me if you need something. I promise I won’t yell at you.”

“Well, I know I won’t call as often now... I don’t know how much I like getting yelled at by ‘big boss Jaehyun’.” You shot him a look and he chuckled sheepishly.

“I-I’m sorry, I really am. I won’t do it agai-”

“I’m kidding, you big lunk,” you brushed the fallen hair from out of his eyes with a soft smile. “Although I would still like not to be yelled at again.”

“That,” Jaehyun grinned. “I can do. Now, let’s get you home.”

Unraveling you from his grip, he opened the car door for you. You climbed in, body relaxing under the welcoming residual warmth of the inside of his Tesla.

“Oh right,” he paused, catching the passenger door just before it closed. “You look beautiful tonight.”

The door closed and a rush of red hurried to your cheeks. And as Jaehyun jogged around the back of the car, you spared a fond glance down at your pink silk minidress.

send me a title and an nct member and i’ll write a blurb for you

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outlier-rookie · 3 years

Text

Of Blood And Greatness - Chapter 3

Chapter 3/?? - Settling In With Some Concerns

AO3 Link

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26305741/chapters/71331201

***

The next few chapters might be a bit slow pace wise because I want to build up a few more interactions between Reader and the Gang members. Don’t worry, we’ll get to the action soon enough.

TRIGGER WARNING: Anxiety/Panic Attack

***

“Wow (Y/N)! You’re as strong as Uncle Arthur!” (Y/N) paused long enough to shoot Jack a cheeky grin as they continued their path towards the horses, slowly carrying the last hay bale. The tall skittish fella, Kieran, had tried to offer to take the bales instead but (Y/N) was insistent that it wasn’t that heavy and they were no stranger to hard work and heavy lifting. Miss Karen had also had a good laugh with the other girls about the teen putting the likes of Bill and Sean to shame with how much heavy lifting they did around camp. Mrs. Grimshaw, as scary as she was at times, was also quick to praise (Y/N)’s hard work and help with the camp chores.

It had been a few days since everything that happened up near Cattail Pond and as the teen feared, Dutch was less than pleased with the total sum brought back to camp. But like Arthur had promised he was also understanding and despite (Y/N) feeling like they hadn’t delivered on their promise, Dutch welcomed them into the ragtag family of outlaws with a speech and fanciful words of things only getting better from here.

Still, the teen spent their days mulling over their failure with a hollow feeling sitting in the pit of their stomach. Mr. Hosea had sat next to them by the campfire one night with stew in hand and talked about nothing in particular. He started telling short stories from the gang's past and it didn’t click until the teen was falling asleep that night but the stories all had similar feelings to their blunder with the money. (Y/N) fell asleep smiling at the stars that night, putting the memory of Dutch’s ill-concealed disappointment behind them.

***

“Arthur! Welcome back son.” Dutch was sat by his tent smoking a cigar as Arthur led (Y/N) over to him. “So!” he started, standing with his arms extended; whether it was meant in a divine or welcoming manner, (Y/N) wasn’t entirely sure. “How’d your little excursion go?”

“’Fraid we ain’t getting to Tahiti or Australia with what we recovered.” The grizzled outlaw started. “Seems that someone else got to the stash before young (Y/N) here and took most of what we had.” Something in the teen's stomach dropped as the light in Dutch’s eyes seemed to dim slightly. The dark-haired man hummed and folded one arm across his chest, the other bringing his cigar back to his lips. He paused for a moment breathing slowly, the smoke flowing past his lips before being taken by the breeze.

“How much did you get then?” He finally asked

“Would have had ‘bout one third.”

“’Would have’?” (Y/N) shifted nervously and refused to meet Dutch’s eyes, ashamed that they had disappointed this man.

“O’Drisscols.” Arthur replied. “Weren’t the kids' fault. They ambushed us as we were crossing Cumberland Falls. Some of the money went over the falls. Didn’t want to risk staying around in case the law came snooping around. Was a pretty big scene.”

“I see.”

(Y/N) timidly raised their head to find Dutch’s piercing eyes once again focused on them. An old but familiar feeling of helplessness gnawed at their insides, causing their stomach to twist. As their instincts yelled at them to hide, Arthur stepped forward slightly and half placed himself between them and Dutch.

“It wasn’t their fault Dutch.”

“And you can be absolutely sure about that Arthur?”

“As a matter of fact, I can. If they was working with the O’Driscolls to set a trap, then they would have shot me and not three of Colm’s boys.”

Dutch actually seemed surprised by this.

“Sounds like they weren’t embellishing their skills with a gun.” Hosea’s smoother voice was like a cool balm on (Y/N)’s nearly fried nerves.

“Damn right. Them idiots didn’t know what hit em. Kid put them all down with one bullet each.” Arthur replied, stepping back some. An unexpected swift and heavy pat on the back sent the teen stumbling slightly and (Y/N) swore they saw a slight grin on Arthur’s face.

***

“You ok there?” (Y/N nearly dropped the horse brush they were using, as Charles’ deep voice startled them out of their thoughts.

“Y-Yeah! Sorry, was just thinking. Did you uh, need something Mr. Charles?” Charles smiled and the minor change in his breathing suggested silent laughter.

“You can just call me Charles you know.” (Y/N) scrunched their face-up made a noise that was a mix between disagreement and something a bit lighter than disgust which drew another silent laugh from Charles before he continued. “Pearson was complaining that the camps getting low on meat so I offered to go hunting for him. You’ve got a good eye and steady hands so I figured I’d ask if you’d like to come.”

“Really?” Excitement bubbled up inside at the thought of being able to do more than just chores around the camp. (Y/N) could only lug so much water and carry so many sacks before it got repetitive and boring. They weren’t strong enough to properly chop firewood and Mrs. Grimshaw and practically chased them away from laundry and sewing after the first hour. “When you leaving?”

“As soon as possible. I’ll ready the horses while you grab your gun.”

“R-Right! Just give me five. I need to check my satchel.”

With a soft ‘Alright’ from Charles, (Y/N) dropped the horse brush by the hitching post and jogged across the camp towards the medicine wagon. A ratty lean-to was set up next to it and under it an old bedroll. It wasn’t a whole lot but it was more than they had before joining the gang. The well-used bedroll wasn’t nearly as soft as their bed back at Estelle’s home. A small framed photograph of the woman peeked out from under the corner of the bedroll. The faint reminder of the woman who could be sweet as honey one moment and mean enough to give an angry Mrs. Grimshaw a run for her money brought a familiar pang of guilt to the teen. Bitterly they pushed the feelings and memories away and turned the picture over, hiding away from the loving eyes of a woman hundreds or thousands of miles away.

(Y/N) blindly stuffed a few items in their satchel and reached for their gun. Their fingers had barely grazed the sun-warmed metal before they jerked their hand back as if it had burnt. Glassy blue eyes stared blankly at the gun laying on the ground, seemingly mocking them from its pathetic position.

Stupid child.

What were you expecting?

These people were outlaws.

They were no stranger to killing other people.

If you want to survive in their world, it's either shoot first or get dead.

It was hard to breathe as (Y/N) felt their chest tighten like a red hot metal vice had been wrapped around their chest. An old familiar panic started settling into their whole being, starting in their stomach before it wrapped its tendrils around their bones before boring its way into their throat and brain. The air itself caught in their throat and their vision was starting to blur slightly when a hot and heavy pressure made its presence known when it landed solidly on the teen's shoulder.

“Woah there! ‘Sokay! ‘Sokay kid, you’re alright ya hear?” The voice was deep and familiar and most importantly grounding. Still, it took a second for the pressure on their chest to dissipate enough and allow a cool, fresh breath to fill their burning lungs. Blinking, (Y/N) realised that some tears had gathered in their eyes and quickly moved to brush them away, sniffling as they did. Finally, they were able to look up as see Arthur crouching next to them, his brows furrowed gently as he watched them.

“Everything alright Arthur?” (Y/N)’s eyes flicked up to the approaching figure of Hosea.

“We’re fine Hosea. I just startled them is all.” Arthur replied easily. Hosea stood by for a moment before slowly approaching the teen, not too dissimilar to how one would approach a scared animal.

“You alright?” His soft, aged voice reminded the teen of Estelle once more.

“Y-Yeah.” They mumbled. “’M sorry. Dunno what came over me.” They looked away from the two men, eyes once again landing on their repeater as once again a wave of hot white anger flowed through their veins. A weight in their dominant hand drew their attention and (Y/N) suddenly understood why Arthur and Hosea were acting so cautious towards them.

In their hand was their trusty knife, the bronze metal gleaming dangerously in the sunlight. It quickly dawned on the teen that they had pulled it on reflex when Arthur had startled them. A hot flush of shame and embarrassment flooded through them as they frantically shoved the knife back into its sheath.

“Those are some damn fine reflexes you got kid.” Arthur said. The words may have formed a compliment but the tone was wrong and questioning. (Y/N) didn’t want to answer. They just groaned out a vague noise of agreement and pointedly avoided looking at the two men and finished packing their satchel. Slinging the strap over their shoulder the teen all but bolted past Arthur and Hosea making their way back to the horses where Charles stood waiting, making some final adjustments to Taima’s saddle. His movements held some extra tension and (Y/N) just knew that he had seen their little incident and the heat returned to their chest.

“Ain’t we going to go? Mr. Pearson needs meat, doesn’t he?” They snapped.

“You don’t have to come if you-”

“I’m fine!” They cut him off. “Come on.” They huffed, barely resisting the urge to stamp their foot. They were fifteen and basically a grown-up and grown-ups didn’t stomp their feet like toddlers when they were angry. A heavy hand was placed on their shoulder once more.

“Alright then kid.” Arthur said. His gruff voice was uncharacteristically soft. “Mount up. And let’s get goin’.” Gently, Arthur nudged them towards Fortuna who nickered and shoved her nose into (Y/N)’s chest. The mare huffed as the teen half-heartedly scratched her cheeks before silently climbing on. Fortuna shook her mane out and turned as much as she could, keeping an eye on her rider. She let loose another whine as she tried to nose (Y/N) again.

“I’m alright girl.” The whispered, pulling a carrot from one of the many pockets in their satchel and offering it to the worrisome mare. Fortuna took the carrot without protest and calmed as (Y/N) stroked her neck. Tugging on the reins, (Y/N) directed the mare’s head towards the path out of camp. Charles and Arthur were on the backs of Taima and Admiral. Not obviously watching them but also doing exactly that with incredible obviousness for two seasoned outlaws. Huffing, the teen kicked and urged Fortuna forward

***

I started hitting a wall with this chapter towards the end so the ending may feel somewhat abrupt. I didn’t have the energy to beta read this or whatever so all mistakes are mine.

I have a better plan for what will happen in the next chapter or two

#rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x male reader #rdr2 x gn reader #rdr2 x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #of blood and greatness

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ranishoo · 3 years

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7 for leslie and devlon do it you wont

oh fuck yeah

7. First words vs last words

First words:

Leslie felt sore. She felt hot. The ground was shifting around her. Her eyes were closed, yet light still poured in, tinting her vision red. Until it went dark again. But she was still awake, wasn't she? She tried to open her eyes, but they were far too heavy.

Fingers pressed against her neck and the weight she previously felt was gone in an instant, replaced by pure adrenaline. She shot upright with a yelp, her forehead meeting something solid that sent her back down to the ground, groaning and clutching her head. And someone else was groaning too.

Leslie opened her eyes, having to rub and blink them many times to fight the bright sunlight and a strange irritation, to find herself looking at a man sitting not too far from her. He was tall, lean but well-built, with dark skin and long dark hair, with what looked to be a side shave, or maybe a long mohawk? He too was rubbing a hand on his forehead.

"Oh god," Leslie began, "did I hit you? I-" She stopped, noticing for the first time where she was. What she was sitting on. What she had rubbed out of her eyes. Sand.

Sand?

All around her was pits of sand, dry patches of dirt and dead brush, and what might be the oldest looking ruins she'd ever seen. What the fuck? She'd just been in the Felsan foothills, surrounded by trees and rocks; what was she doing here? What was going on, and who was that man?

Leslie turned her attention back to the stranger, only to notice he had recovered and stood up, walking back over to her. He said something to her, but she couldn't make out what. She gave him a confused look, and he paused for a moment before repeating himself. Was he speaking Kett? Some of the words sounded familiar, but she couldn't fully comprehend their meaning.

The man scratched his head for a moment, and Leslie noticed two large fangs protruding from his lips. A vampire? No, he was in broad daylight, that would be stupid. Maybe a galik, then? She couldn't see his eyes, the slitted draconic pupils usually a dead giveaway, so she couldn't tell for sure.

"Ah..." the man started, his tenor voice hesitant and slow. "You... alright?"

So he knew a bit of Domian. It didn't seem like much, but at least it was something. Leslie still hoped he'd been speaking Kett before, and that she just hadn't understood through his accent; she at least knew a few phrases and random words in the language, so even if he barely knew Domian she might be able to ask him some questions.

The man cleared his throat.

"Oh! Um, yes? Sort of? Uh... sorry, where am I?" She attempted to stand, but her legs protested with possibly the worst cramps she'd ever felt, and she promptly landed back on the sand, writhing in pain.

Her eyes pinched shut, Leslie heard the man frantically calling in his language as he rushed toward her. Then in Domian, "Alright? Alright?"

It took her a moment to collect herself, but she remembered to stretch out her legs and gritted her teeth, working the cramp out. "I... yeah, yeah I am." Still on the ground, she held out a hand to shake his and gave him a pained smile. "I'm Leslie."

He stared at her for a moment, seemingly baffled. Then, slowly, he took her hand and cautiously helped her to her feet. Alright, not what she'd intended, but that was fine. She looked up at him, meeting his bright golden eyes partially obscured by the hair he had yet to brush out of the way. Slitted, just like a dragon.

"I am Delvon."

Last words:

Lucas clung to his arm as Delvon hoisted the saddlebag onto his horse, lifting the boy off his feet for just a moment. "Please don't go, Papa!" He looked at the child, his brown and gold eyes looking like that of a dog watching you eat a juicy steak. That boy had mastered the art of begging, and it took all of Delvon's strength not to scoop him up and bring him inside, foregoing the journey altogether.

He sighed. "Would you prefer I stay home and not hunt, and we go hungry for the winter?"

The boy groaned. "You could at least bring me along, I'm old enough now! Look!" He held up his tag, showing the snake fang to his father. It was galik tradition for a child to keep the fang from their first solo hunt and turn it into a necklace, a badge of pride and a sign that they were beginning the journey to adulthood. Over Lucas' life, Delvon would have the privilege to add more to the tag as his son developed his skills, and he could already tell he'd have to go searching for purple and red beads to mark the boy's prowess in vinum and impes magic. Clearly a trait he got from his mother, as Delvon still struggled on the rare occurrence when he did use his magic.

Sighing again, Delvon ruffled Lucas' curly brown hair with his free hand, a smile teasing his lips. "You have to stay home and protect the farm, remember? Mama and Kala can't do it all by themselves."

Lucas let go of his father's arm and crossed his own, pouting. "Mama could protect the farm all by herself! She's told me all about her adventures; she could keep the farm safe with both her hands tied behind her back."

The smile was still on Delvon's face, but it turned a bit more stern now. "Alright, then you're staying home to help with the harvest. The frost is coming soon, remember?"

Another groan from the boy, resigned this time. "Fine," he grumbled, "but next year I get to go hunting with you and Uncle."

Delvon rolled his eyes. "I make no promises, but I'll think about it. Now, where's your mother?"

Lucas pointed toward the house, where he'd left the door wide open when he chased after his father. Delvon started toward it, sighing. When would that boy learn that the purpose of their hearth wasn't to heat the outdoors? He stepped into the house, waiting for the boy to scramble past him before he shut the door, welcoming the warmth of his home after just a few short minutes out in the chilly morning air.

Leslie was in the kitchen, looking like she had barely just woken up as she nursed a mug of tea and attempted to keep her eyes from falling shut. She looked up from the drink to see Delvon in the doorway and she smiled, laugh lines crinkling to make her face look all the more beautiful. Her red hair was pulled back into a barely contained ponytail, curls flying everywhere to give her a frazzled look. Delvon walked over and smoothed her unruly locks, kissing the top of her head as he did.

'Somebody's a sap this morning,' he sensed her thinking, and he looked at her face to see her smirking at him.

"Perhaps I am," he shrugged, planting a quick kiss on her lips. 'Keep an eye on Lucas when I leave,' he thought, 'I think he might try to follow me this time.'

'He's been failing at that for the past two years,' Leslie replied, hiding a chuckle lest Lucas hear and ask what they're "mind-talking" about. That boy needed to come up with a better term for it; not that she had one, but it took all her willpower not to roll her eyes whenever he said the word. They'd explained tethering to both Lucas and Kala, and while Kala seemed to understand just fine, Leslie wondered if Lucas quite got the concept.

'He'll get it eventually,' Delvon said, interrupting her as he took a sip of her tea, 'he's just young.'

'For now,' she replied, taking the mug back, 'but how are you gonna feel when he gets older than you?'

She said it in jest, but the words gave Delvon pause. He had thought about this before; while he was full galik, they were only half, and they aged much faster than he did. In only sixty years they'd almost reached teenagehood, something that had taken Delvon well over two hundred years. Not to mention Leslie, who wasn't a galik at all. She was in her eighties, although she didn't look it. They wondered if it was the dwarf blood or her strong connection with magic that kept her looking half her age, but neither could figure it out.

Delvon knew what he had been signing up for when he married her; he knew he would outlive her by at least a thousand years, and he had accepted that. But it didn't make it easier to see the signs of age show on her, however slow they may appear. And to see his children grow up so quickly, while he'd seemingly not aged throughout their entire lifetime. He didn't know how he'd handle the years to come, when he was by their deathbeds, still a young man, and it terrified him. What would he do after they were gone?

His thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his cheek. "Hey," Leslie softly said, "you know I love you, right?"

Delvon closed his eyes and placed his own hand on top of hers, pressing his cheek into her palm. He allowed the sensation of his love and care to flow through their link, letting it wash over his wife. She shared hers with him in return, and the two stood there for a quiet moment, eyes closed as they basked in each other's affection.

As soon as the moment had started, it was over, and Delvon opened his eyes, slightly dazed. Leslie's eyes were similarly glazed over, and the two made eye contact for a moment before laughing. The overwhelming sensation they'd just shared left them both a bit stunned, and neither had really gotten used to that feeling.

A knock on the door interrupted them, setting their dog off. Sawyer rushed to the door, barking his head off, his tail wagging frantically. He knew who was on the other side.

"Settle down, boy!" Delvon called fruitlessly, more for his own benefit than anything else. Nothing could stop that damn dog from barking.

Leslie placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. "You off, then?"

"It would seem so."

"You better bring us back lots of game, you hear? Oh, and preferably some animal with good bones; we need new tools."

The man snorted. "Alright, necromancer, I'll find you your precious bones."

She smacked him on the shoulder, rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean, asshole. And no getting gored by a buck or a boar or anything. I've already had to patch you up enough for one lifetime; I don't wanna do it again."

Once again, Delvon kissed her on the head, taking his sword off the shelf they'd built high above the children's heads. "I promise I won't get stabbed if you promise you won't let the kids poke your eyes out with the rake."

"Yeah, yeah, I promise."

"I love you!"

"Love you too, Del."

Delvon opened the front door, smiling as he saw his brother on the other side. Sawyer rushed out to sniff Rochil's feet, his entire body squirming from excitement, and the three of them walked toward the horses. When Delvon mounted, he turned back to look at his home, seeing his wife standing in the doorway, waving to him. He saw Lucas peek his head out from behind his mother, and from a window upstairs he could see the tired face of Kala watching out the window as she waved goodbye. Delvon raised a hand to them and Rochil shortly followed. Then the two tapped their horses with their heels, setting on down the road, Sawyer trotting alongside them.

#idk how to do a read more on mobile so yall get to deal with this rifp #and you better believe some tragic shit goes down while delvon is off hunting :)#ask #kurgy #oc: leslie mclough #oc: delvon #writing #oc writing #my writing

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pricetagofficial · 3 years

Text

Ghost -Part Eleven

Warnings: Language, angst

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9K

Tag List: @kishony-the-geek @idkmanicantenglish @unknowntoanyone @subtleappreciation @catxsnow @spxder-mxns @river-bottom-nightmare @screennamealreadyused @woahjaybird @bikoncon

A/N: Do I start to fix things? Maybe.

Ghost ran through the street as fast as she could, Cheshire was still in town and there was a high chance she was not alone. They were out for her head, it seemed the League was finally catching onto the hint that she was not going to join them so it was decided that she was too dangerous to live. It was a dick move to leave Jason and Tim on that roof, but if she didn't leave she would have confessed everything right then and there.

She planned to return to the cave, but there were things she needed to get first. The bag she carried everywhere was still in her safe house, and it held everything she kept with her on this hunt of hers and there were items she refused to lose because Bruce had her under house arrest.

Jumping down she swung through the open window and rolled into the bedroom and took a quick look around. It seemed that nothing was missing, or out of place. Slowly, Rory rose to her feet staying as silent as she could listening for a hint that someone was there. A hand rested on the hilt of her sword as she slowly made her way to the corner where her bag rested, Rory's dark eyes narrowing in the pitch blackness of her temporary home.

Something was not right, she could feel it but Rory had no time to investigate. She had to get back to the Batcave before she was found again and almost killed again. Her other hand held the straps to her bag as she flung it over her shoulder. It was silent, almost too silent as if the birds of the night knew someone was there that she was unaware of.

Taking one more look around, Rory quickly dove out the window and ran unaware of the flash of silver that shone across the room once she turned her back.

"Hey Signal, there a tracker on your bike?" she called into the night.

"Did you forget who I work with, Batman puts a tracker in everything. But you are right around the corner from it, I'm guessing you are on your way back?" Duke asked.

"Yeah, the other two are alive at least the last I saw them they were." she chuckled, jumping off the roof and rolling into a landing. "I'll be there in a few, Bats isn't back yet?"

"No, no one is back yet. See you when you get here Ghost."

"right back at you Signal." she chuckled jumping onto the bright yellow bike and taking off towards the cave.

As she drove, Ghost could not shake the feeling that she was being watched. It was an uneasy feeling and no matter how many twists and turns she made, there was a feeling of someone watching her from the shadows. Not wanting to push her luck further, Ghost made a straight shot for the cave.

Pulling into the familiar waterfall, Rory saw that she was the last one back. Taking off her mask, she shot Duke a look who only shrugged. He wasn't lying when he said that no one was back, but then she went silent, and somehow the others managed to beat her back.

Getting off the bike, Rory held her bag close to her chest and avoided the gaze of Bruce who stood there with his arms crossed.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"I kept Jason and Tim alive, you're welcome," she said, heading straight for the cell.

"Where did you go after that?" Tim asked.

"To get my bag?" she asked, turning to look at him. "I thought it was obvious, you know considering the fact that I came back with it?"

"What's in the bag?"

Rory groaned and dropped it in front of them. "Are you really that suspicious of me? Seriously? After I kept two of you alive, I thought you were paranoid but this is a whole new level." she snapped. "Go ahead, go through my bag just try not to get a little too excited when you get to my underwear."

None of them made a move to look in the bag, Rory staring at them with an unamused expression. If they were going to be this ridiculous, so was she. They should at least trust the fact that she would never bring something dangerous into the cave to hurt them. They may all hate her, but that did not mean she hated them or wanted any of them hurt.

After a few moments of tense silence, Rory bent over and grabbed her bag, and walked back to the cell. Shutting the door, she set it on the ground and sat on the cot, and crossed her arms. Duke looked mildly amused at the situation, he knew what Rory was doing because he saw the footage from her mask. What he wanted to know was what made them all refuse to trust her, sure she was an assassin but did that mean they had to hate her?

Aurora Queen was a mystery, he had never even heard of her until she showed up in the cave a few days ago but ever since the others had been on edge like they were waiting for her to do something. Duke knew from Damian that she and Tim had a past and from the look of it, it was a long one but no one was willing to elaborate for him to understand but maybe if he got Rory to trust him she would confide in him?

Rory leaned back against the wall and looked around, they all had lived without her. It killed her to see it, Tim talking with Cass and Steph, Dick with Barbara while Damian was bugging Jason. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, that they all stopped living while she was gone? Of course, they didn't, Gotham needed to be protected and no one else was going to do it if they were not around.

Her eyes went to her bag where at the bottom, rested the wooden box she had gotten from Tim that held her prized possessions. Tim didn't even know she had kept it, and if he did would he still think different of her? The sounds of their conversations drifted through the cave, and it was then Rory had never felt more alone.

She laid back on the cot and closed her eyes, hoping that they would get the hint she wanted to be left alone. One by one, they stopped talking and everyone exited the cave. Thinking that she was alone, Rory sat up and grabbed her bag sliding it over to her. The temptation to look in the box had gotten stronger, she needed something to look back on.

This last year of her life was not an easy one, each day was a struggle not to lose herself in the darkness Rory surrounded herself in. The more she killed, the more she felt herself slip away into the nothingness and become numb to it and it scared her. But being scared meant that she still had feelings, so she held onto that fear until it too slowly began to fade away and replaced it with nothing but pain.

Pain from the fact that she was alone, and she had done it to herself. But like always, Rory told herself it was for good reason. She had to do this, to keep Tim, Oliver, Roy, and Dinah safe. Rory knew that they could take care of themselves, Tim having dealt with the fact that Ra's wanted him as a successor more than Bruce or Damian. Dinah and Oliver had fought the League more times than they could count and could clearly take care of themselves, but Rory was their weakness. If she removed herself from the equations, the League wouldn't be tempted to use her against them.

"You seem pretty deep in thought there."

Rory jumped out of her skin and looked up and saw Barbara standing there with her arms crossed. She gulped and slowly set the box behind her back, hoping Barbara didn't see it. If she saw it, it was unknown because she had a neutral expression on her face.

"Just reflecting, I see you went through with that surgery," she replied.

"It seemed a risk worth taking, you know how much I missed being out there. Being Oracle, I got to keep everyone safe from a distance. But now, I can make sure they stay safe." she explained.

Rory nodded, it made sense. Multiple times, Barbara had told her how much she missed being Batgirl after it was taken away from her by the Joker. It was still unknown what he did to her after he shot her, but Rory knew that it was not good or something she was willing to talk about.

"You know, they may act like they hate you but deep down everyone missed you."

Huffing a laugh, Rory looked up at Barbara. "They sure have a funny way of showing it, I almost thought they would rather me dead."

"You know for a fact they do not want you dead, why else would Dick save you all those weeks ago?" she asked.

"Guilty conscience, I knew that between him and Jason Dick would not let me bleed out. It's what makes him, him."

Barbara chuckled and shook her head. "You might have a point there, Dick can't help but save people. It's who he has always been" she raised her head to look at Rory. "You were the same way yourself, maybe it's why the two of you got along so well."

Rory closed her eyes, "I'm not that person anymore, the Rory you knew is dead. All that's left is her shell animated by a ghost of the girl you want me to be."

"But you could be, no one is truly lost forever, Rory. We all have lost ourselves at one point, but we came back. We didn't let our failures stop us, it made each of us stronger. It's how you learn to be a better version of yourself, by struggling and not giving up no matter what."

Letting out a sigh, Rory finally lifted her head to look at her. "Babs, there is no going back for me. Not after what I did to Tim..." she muttered.

Barbara opened the cell door and sat with Rory on the cot and slowly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Rory, what aren't you telling us?" she asked softly.

She kept her head turned away, but Rory did not brush her hand off. Could she tell Barbara what she was going and why? Rory refused to tell anyone what she was doing because she wanted to keep them safe, but it was getting harder and harder. There was a pit at the bottom of her stomach that grew and grew each time she told a lie, and it never went away. How could she tell Barbara that she crushed Tim's heart to keep him safe?

Rory didn't know she was crying until the tears landed on her hands that were clasped on her lap, she took a deep breath to try and hide it but Barbara saw right through it. She didn't hesitate a second before she pulled Rory close and held her tightly to her chest as she cried.

"I'm so tired of all of this..." she sobbed, gripping her arms. "All I wanted was to keep everyone I loved from getting hurt, only to turn around and do it myself. As shitty as this city is, I miss it."

Barbara held her close and listened as she cried, rubbing her back. "You miss more than the city don't you?"

Rory kept her mouth shut as tears fell from her eyes, the thing she missed most lived in this city and was upstairs probably cursing her name at this very moment because she made his worst fear real. The love she felt for Tim was stronger than anything she had ever felt, and it killed her to say that she never loved him.

Because of her, Tim was probably never going to trust a single person when they say they love him now. She had cut him deep with her words alone, and disappearing was the icing on the cake. She broke the promise, that wherever she went he would go too and where he went she would follow. Partners, through thick and thin.

But they weren't partners anymore, they weren't even friends. Rory and Tim were strangers, passing in the night without a single word to the other. There was a high chance that they would never be the same, how could he even look at her after what she said.

"I saw the box Rory, you don't have to hide it from me. I know you miss him, how could you not?"

"He hates me, Babs... I said horrible things to him, he has every right to hate me." she whimpered, the words finally falling from her lips. "I said that I never loved him, that he was just someone to fuck while I was in town." The tears were in full force again, as she recounted the words she said that night to Tim with vivid detail.

"Everyone hates me because I hurt him so bad, and I don't know how to even forgive myself."

Barbara rubbed circles in her back as she listened, "Maybe it isn't yourself that you need forgiveness from, you need it from someone else first."

"He can't know, no one can," Rory mumbled, the words barely heard.

"How can we help you if you can't tell us the truth, Rory? This mission of yours is only going to get you hurt, or worse killed. We already lost you once, don't make us lose you a second time."

Rory sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking at Babs. "I need to go back out tomorrow night, depending on how things with Samantha goes I will tell everyone why I left."

Barbara gave her a soft smile before she nodded. "Alright, how about you get some sleep alright? Do you want to come up to the manor and sleep in a real bed and not this cot? Your room is still the same, no one has touched it."

Shaking her head, Rory declined. "I doubt they trust me enough to let me upstairs. I don't want to step on more toes than I already have."

Getting to her feet, Barbara looked at Rory. "Alright, but please try and sleep okay?" she called and walked out of the cell and waved before she walked up the stairs to the manor.

Now that she was alone in the cave, Rory changed quickly into sleep attire and curled up on the cot. Crying had taken a lot of her energy and she was exhausted, it wasn't long before she passed out and let sleep overtake her.

The next day had come and gone quickly, Rory had spent a lot of her time training with a punching bag. It was clear that she had a lot of pent up feelings and did not want to be caught up in it, afraid she would break them in half.

When the time came for patrol again, Rory gave her word that she would not kill Samantha just observe. Things were not sitting right with her about the whole situation and Rory wanted to know why. She was paired up with Dick for the night, seeing as he was the one least likely to kick her off a building.

Rory was currently off to the side and adjusting her gauntlets when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, she saw Tim behind her. This time, he didn't look angry at her but there was a hidden emotion in his blue eyes. Rory had to keep herself from getting lost in them like she always did and cleared her throat, queuing him to speak.

He rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh and looked at the ground. "I never got to thank you for your assistance last night, I wasn't exactly the nicest person in the world and you didn't have to come after us."

It took everything in her to not brush the loose hair from his face like she used to out of habit. "Is this the start of an apology Timothy?" she teased lightly.

Tim let out a huff. "A little bit of that, along with a thank you."

Rory felt a smile grow on her face. "I guess I should say the same, I wasn't very nice either. if you hadn't have stopped Cheshire, I would not be here. So thank you, Tim."

The two of them stood there awkwardly, not meeting the gaze of the other. They weren't friends, but this was a step in the right direction.

#Costly Affairs #Tim Drake #Timothy Drake #tim drake fanfic #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake fic #tim drake x oc #Red Robin #red robin fanfic #red robin fanfiction #red robin fic #red robin x oc #DC comics #The Archer #The Aurora Queen Saga #Aurora Queen

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pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Felassan/f!Lavellan: Ar Lasa Mala Revas

Chapter 27 of The Love That Grows From Violence (post-Trespasser Felassan x Tamaris Lavellan) is posted!

100% fluff, smut, and more feelsy fluff. ALSO GIFT ART, which needs its own post because I am beside myself with feels. 😭❤️

~9700 words so long omfg. Only the first part is posted here. Read the whole thing on AO3.

*******************

A few days later, when the sky was a curtain of deep midnight blue studded with stars, Tamaris sat on the roof curled into Felassan’s shoulder, watching as the smoke of their shared joint drifted from his mouth in delicate wisps and curls.

He offered her the joint, and she took it and brought it to her lips. “What do you think we should do when we finally leave this house?” she asked.

He leaned back casually on one hand. “It depends on what’s happening in the world by the time we are ready to leave. Who knows? Maybe the qunari will start moving south by then. Or maybe Tevinter will succeed at pushing the qunari back.” He smiled cheekily. “Maybe someone will assassinate the Emperor of Orlais in a sudden coup d’état.”

Tamaris lifted an eyebrow and blew out a stream of smoke. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to set up for such a coup.”

“Would that I had the resources to set up something so devious,” he said. “But that would probably plunge your world into even more chaos, so I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Thank you for that very wise spy advice,” she said wryly.

He nodded politely. “You’re very welcome.”

She smirked and took another drag from the joint, then blew out a little cloud of smoke and held out the joint. “Seriously though. Isn’t there anything you want to do? Barring the stuff that we might have to do. Isn’t there anywhere you’d like to travel to?”

He took the joint. “It would be interesting to visit the Arbour Wilds — to see the Temple of Mythal again.”

She raised an eyebrow. “There’s no one there anymore.”

“Exactly,” he said. “It’s perfect for scavenging. There might be clues as to where Mythal’s dragon or her amulet are being kept, or whether her dragon is even alive anymore. It is possible that the Well of Sorrows was not the only sacred treasure they were guarding.”

Tamaris raised her eyebrows. “Oh shit. That’s true. Okay, we should go there.”

“We could,” Felassan said. “Or we could go somewhere else.”

She gave him a chiding look, and he smiled unconcernedly and handed her the joint. “Where do you want to go, avise? Which direction would we strike out in if you were given the choice?”

She sighed and gazed idly at the smouldering tip of the joint. “I… ah, I’ve been thinking for a while that I should go see my clan. Those who aren’t in Wycome still, I mean.”

“Where are they now?”

“They’re a short ways from Starkhaven right now,” she said. “It’s not that far from Kirkwall, so I don’t really have an excuse.”

He cocked his head. “You were avoiding them?”

She hesitated. She genuinely hadn’t had time to go see her clan after the explosion at the Conclave, and things had only gotten busier from a political and peacekeeping standpoint after Corypheus was dead.

But if Tamaris was honest, it was more than just Inquisition business that had stopped her from visiting her clan. And there was a reason she had volunteered to spy on the Conclave in the first place, all those years ago.

She brought the joint to her lips. “I was avoiding them, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I was…” She sighed, then gave Felassan a hard look. “I love my clan, all right? I love them, and I think they’re great. But Dalish clans grow up knowing every bit of each other’s business. We’re very close, and it’s very hard to keep secrets. It’s part of what makes us such a tight community — the entire clan is really just one big family. There are no strangers in a clan, only family.” She ran her hand through her hair. “But it also makes it difficult to… to forget when something bad happens to someone.”

He tilted his head. “You were constantly reminded of Marin.”

“Yes,” she said. “And – look, it’s not that I want to forget him. I – I’ll never forget him. He’s been dead for years and I still think of him almost every day. But it’s one thing to think of him randomly because something reminds me of him, and it’s another thing to think of him because he’s all anyone ever sees when they look at me. When he’s all I ever thought about when I looked at my parents.” She exhaled hard and rubbed her forehead. “The Inquisition was a pain in the ass a lot of the time, but I was able to… I wasn’t ‘poor Marin’s sister’ anymore, and that was… gods, I feel like an asshole saying it, but it was a relief.”

“You had a chance to start over,” Felassan said.

She looked at him. His tone was neutral but his eyes were warm, and her shoulders loosened at his lack of judgment. “Yes,” she said. “I was able to… to be someone who wasn’t forever tied to my failure to protect my family. And as the Inquisitor, I became the opposite. I was the person they saw as the one who protected everyone.” She snorted and lifted the joint to her mouth once more. “Fucking ironic, isn’t it?”

“Did your clan really see you as someone who failed to protect your family?” he asked.

She blew out a mouthful of smoke. “I was someone who failed to protect my family. He got dragged off because I couldn’t talk the Templars into calming down.”

Felassan smiled faintly. “I hardly believe that the Templars were inclined to listen. Especially if Marin had already hurt some of them.”

Tamaris swallowed hard. “He, uh… he killed one of them, actually. And hurt a couple more. But he didn’t mean to.”

Felassan nodded an acknowledgement. “If that’s the case, his fate was sealed, and not by you. That wasn’t your fault.” He took the joint from her fingers.

She frowned at him. “What do you mean, his fate was sealed? You really think there was nothing I could have done?”

“Oh, something could certainly have been done,” Felassan said. “But I doubt your clan was willing or ready to start a war against the Chantry.”

Tamaris stared at him as he brought the joint to his lips. “You’re being pretty cold-hearted about this,” she accused.

He released a mouthful of smoke before replying. “Cold-heartedness is not my intention. My intention is to point out that it was not your fault. Look at the bigger picture, and you’ll realize that short of pitting your clan against the Templar Order, there was little you could have done.” He held out the joint to her.

She glared at him, then looked away and took a breath to calm herself. He wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t told herself at one point or another, though she never quite believed her own pep talks in this regard.

She believed Felassan, though. Galling as it was to admit, it meant more to hear him saying this than telling it to herself.

He was still talking. “There was little you could have done at that time, at least. From what I read in This Shit Is Weird, you certainly had a hand in what happened to the Templar Order after the Conclave.”

She frowned slightly as she took the joint from him. “What do you mean?”

“You publicly supported the mages over the Templars,” he said. “The Templars’ ranks were decimated, save for those who came over to your side.”

“Yeah, but the Templars still exist,” Tamaris said.

“You tore them down to their foundations,” he said. “And the person who ultimately controls them now is your former spymaster. They may have taken Marin from you, but you saw that they were taken to heel. It took time, but you got your justice in the end. The hottest flames take some time to build, avise,” he said knowingly. He pulled from the joint, then exhaled the smoke and shot her a sly smile. “Some might even say you took the Vir’Felassan.”

The way of the slow arrow, she thought. She gazed at him with a combination of exasperation and affection. Trust him to find some way of seeing her haphazard stumbling with the Inquisition as a convoluted but purposeful path toward a bigger goal.

She pulled from the joint, then let out a sigh of smoke and leaned into his side once more. “Anyway, that’s, um… yeah. That’s part of the reason I haven’t been back to see my clan.”

“What’s the rest of the reason?” he asked.

She lifted an eyebrow sardonically. “Um, that I was fucking the Dread Wolf and didn’t know it?”

He snorted a laugh. “Letting the Dread Wolf take you would have caused a stir, I imagine.”

Tamaris smirked and held out the joint, and his fingers brushed hers as he took it. “Are there none in your clan who joined his ranks?”

She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. “There were some. Maybe a dozen in total.”

Felassan smiled faintly. “Whatever happened to ‘the clan is family’?”

Tamaris tsked and punched him lightly in the arm. “Don’t be an asshole. We’re a family, not a bunch of single-minded drones like the qunari. If some of them got swayed by the messages that Solas’s operatives were putting out, I can’t blame them.” She shot him a resentful look. “You know what does piss me off, though? Solas looked down on the Dalish so much, then he goes and recruits us anyway. That’s pretty fucking manipulative.”

“It is, yes,” Felassan said.

She frowned. “That’s all you have to say about it?”

He gave her a knowing look that was tinted with melancholy. “Don’t tell me you never manipulated anyone during your time as the Inquisitor. Don’t tell me such a lie.”

She wilted. “Fine, fine, you have a point.” Truthfully, she didn’t have it in her to be particularly angry anymore about the little things Solas had done. With everything that was brewing across the continent these days, it almost felt like she should save her anger for when it would serve her the most.

There was another brief and slightly morose pause as they passed the joint back and forth. Then, as usual, Felassan broke the silence. “So you want to go visit your clan, then?”

“I should,” she said.

He nodded and blew out some smoke, and there was another pause — one that felt loaded this time. As the silence stretched between them to an increasingly awkward degree, Tamaris’s heart began to thrum with nerves.

Just fucking ask, she scolded herself. She chewed the inside of her cheek, then took a deep breath. “Felassan, will you come visit my clan with me?”

“Of course,” he said easily. “What else would I be doing?”

Her heart flipped in her chest. She stared incredulously at him until his lips curled in a smile. “Why are you gaping at me?” he asked.

“I…” She trailed off for a second, then gave him a skeptical look. “What, no questions, no complaints? Just yes?”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Was I unclear when I said we would be travelling together when we leave this house? If you’re going to see your clan, then so am I.”

A warm feeling spread through her ribcage and up to her cheeks. “But you don’t like the Dalish,” she said weakly. “You think we’re close-minded and all that shit.”

He shrugged and extinguished the butt of the joint on the roof. “It’s possible that I was wrong. About your clan, at the very least.”

She scoffed. “Possible, huh?”

He gave her a chiding smirk. “I can eat my own words, avise. They’re especially tasty when you slather them with evidence of the ways that I was wrong.”

She grinned goofily at him, then laughed and tucked a stray lock of hair over her ear. “A man who happily admits when he was wrong? What a catch. Maybe I shouldn’t take you back to the clan. All the unattached hunters will try to snap you up.”

“They can’t snap me up,” he said. “You’ve already caught me.”

Her heart leapt. She suddenly remembered the conversation she’d had with Dorian — that conversation where she’d described her feelings for Felassan: he caught me thoroughly. Now, to hear Felassan describing himself in a similar way…

He chuckled. “Tamaris, if you smile any wider, your face may split in two.”

She laughed giddily and shoved him. “Fuck you.”

He hooked his arm around her neck and pulled her close to kiss her temple, and they scuffled playfully for a moment before settling together once more.

Tamaris sighed happily and patted his thigh. “My mother might ask what your intentions are for me.”

“Hm,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Then I should probably come up with an answer that won’t make your face turn a deep and charming shade of red.”

She scoffed. “You’re such a fucking menace.”

“Thank you, Tamaris,” he said pleasantly. “I try.”

She beamed at him, then settled snugly against his side. They were quiet for a moment, and Tamaris indulged herself in a girlish fantasy of Felassan meeting her parents and telling half-sarcastic stories to her clan, then curling up with her in an aravel in the fragrant quiet of the woods: a stolen moment of peace before they went on to do more important things.

She eventually squeezed his thigh. “Is there anything else you want to do when we leave the house? Like… trying to find Briala, maybe?”

He huffed in amusement. “You really want me to find her, don’t you?”

“I just think it’s sad that she doesn’t know you’re okay. Or that you’re even alive,” Tamaris said. “Whether you think she needs your help or not, I bet she’d want to hear from you.”

“She will,” Felassan assured her. “We’ll get a message to her.”

“How?” Tamaris asked.

“I was thinking of scratching obscure symbols into trees for her to find.” He smirked at Tamaris. “It’s the kind of thing she used to think the Dalish would do.”

She gave him a chiding look. “Felassan.”

He sighed dramatically. “All right, since you insist. I was thinking about coded letters, sent to different places where her most loyal cells used to be. The code would have to be premised on knowledge that she and I share, but not something Fen’Harel would know as well.”

She straightened with interest. “Do you have a code like that already?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “But I’ll think of something.”

Tamaris nodded, then hesitated before asking her next question. “Do you miss her?”

“Does a dandelion miss its seeds when they drift away to conquer new fields?”

Tamaris tsked. “You’re dodging.”

He smiled faintly, then leaned back casually on his palms. “Truthfully, I didn’t have time to miss her. I was made Tranquil the same night that I left her. Then I had no capacity to miss anyone or anything. When Cassandra restored me, I was… I felt too much of everything. How can I know if I missed her when I was caught in a cycle of euphoria and misery and rage?” He glanced at Tamaris. “A better question might be whether I thought of her, and the answer is yes; I thought of her often.”

Tamaris nodded. “I bet she misses you.”

Felassan gave her a chiding smile, and she nudged him with her shoulder. “I’m serious. I bet she would love to see you.”

“She doesn’t need to see me,” Felassan said. “I taught her to stand proudly on her own bare little feet.”

“Who cares about needing to see you?” Tamaris retorted. “I’m sure she wants to see you. Besides, you can’t possibly think the only value you had to her was as her teacher.”

Felassan made a mock-sad face. “That almost feels like an insult to my value as a teacher.”

Tamaris turned to face him fully. “You’re not just a tool, Felassan,” she said fiercely. “You’re not just here to be useful to people. There’s no way Briala spent sixteen years learning from you and didn’t give a shit about you.” She lifted her chin belligerently. “I think we should find her.”

Felassan smiled. “Is this going to be your mission, then? To broker a reunion between me and Briala?”

“If that’s what it’ll take for you to see that you’re worth more than your value as a spy or a teacher or a source of fucking information, then yes,” she snapped.

His smile softened, and he gently chucked her chin. “Easy, avise. You’ll set your hair on fire if you burn any brighter than this.”

She glared at him, irritated by how dismissive he was being. “You’re important, okay? And not because you’re a good spy or a useful ancient elf or any of that shit.”

His eyebrows rose. “Only a good spy? You wound me.”

“Shut the fuck up, will you?” she snapped. “I don’t care about the spy stuff or the mage stuff or the fact that you know shit about the past. I… those things don’t matter. You’re…”

She faltered, feeling awkward about the depth of her feelings, but Felassan’s smile only grew wider. “Go on,” he said. “Don’t stop yourself before you get to the good bit.”

She curled her lip. “Are you looking for me to list all your best qualities?”

“If you’re so inclined, I wouldn’t say no,” he replied.

She scoffed. He was so annoying. “You want me to jack you off while I’m at it?” she said snidely.

He burst out laughing. “How can I say no to a seductive offer like that?”

The treasured sound of his laughter rang straight to her heart. She tutted and folded her arms, and Felassan chuckled and pulled her against his side. “Are you aware that your pouting just makes you more charming?” he said.

“You’re smart, all right?” she burst out. “You’re so smart and perceptive. You can see both sides of things — well, most of the time at least, and when you don’t, you own up when you’re wrong. You make me laugh and you’re so fucking patient and–”

Felassan laughed and wrapped his arm around her. “Tamaris, you can stop. You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes I do, because you need to hear it,” she snapped. “Your value isn’t what you can do for people. It’s who you are. I don’t give a fuck if you never became a spy again or if you couldn’t cook or if you can’t totally control your magic. I’d still love you anyway.”

He grinned at her, and Tamaris’s heart somersaulted in her chest; his mouth was curled with mirth, but his beautiful violet eyes were glittering.

He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Affectionate and abrasive at the same time. That is one of the reasons that I love you.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to shut the fuck up. Instead, she cradled his cheek in her palm and kissed him. He pulled her closer as he returned her kiss, and by the time he broke their kiss to pant against her parted lips, she was practically sitting in his lap.

He brushed his lips to hers. “Let’s go inside,” he murmured.

Read the rest on AO3 because I’m a monster and a horrible tease. 😂

#felassan #felassan romance #save felassan #felassan/lavellan #felassan x lavellan #the love that grows from violence #pikapeppa writes

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scatter-the-stars · 4 years

Note

K&B Criminal/detective AU

Please read the author’s note I posted before the story.

Author’s Note: although short, this story deals with murder and child abuse. Both of these are tough and sensitive subject matters. If that is something you can’t read, I understand you passing this up. If you do continue, know I allude to the abuse and nothing else. Although I wanted a dark subject matter for this fic, I am not the kind of person who can, or will ever, write something like that.

"Hey, hot shot, over here." Martinez shoots him a grin that says he's teasing while waving him over to the back room.

Blaine rolls his eyes at the name. "Fuck off, Martinez."

"What? I can't tease the man of the hour?"

"I didn't do shit. You should be thanking Marla." Blaine thinks of the petrified thirteen year old girl he spotted by the luck of the fucking universe a month ago in a grocery store. He knew her face. Remembered seeing it splashed all over the news the year before when she had been taken. Those wide green eyes and raven black hair that framed her face were something he could never forget.

Her long hair had been cut short. Like a boy's. She wore glasses she didn't need. But none of that mattered. Because he knew her. That same sense of familiarity struck him the moment he saw her in that aisle just like it did the first time he saw her picture. When he saw someone who reminded him so much of Penny. Of his little sister.

Where he couldn’t save one, he rescued the other.

He can still remember the way Marla clung to him like a baby monkey clinging to its mother. He can still her soft sobs, and see her anguished face. What he remembers most is the look of pure happiness in her eyes when she saw her parents for the first time in over fourteen months.

“That girl is a fighter,” Martinez states with pride in his voice.

Blaine agrees with a nod of his head. Thinks of how that one word, fighter, perfectly describes Marla and what she survived through.

The smell is the first thing that hits him when he steps into the bedroom. That putrid, unmistakable smell of death. That smell he will never get used to no matter how many times he encounters it.

"Where's the body?"

Martinez jerks his thumb to what looks like a bathroom. "It's a fucking mess, man. This guy makes Jack the Ripper look like the fucking Tooth Fairy."

No truer statement has been spoken. Blaine has been there since they found the first body. Or what was left of it. Saw the mangled, tortured remains of what was left of Jacob Mills. And he's seen every body that has followed. Each crime scene is like an ugly reality of the boogeyman's imagination come to life.

"Who's the vic?" He keeps away from the bathroom for the moment. Wants to know who he's about to see butchered like an animal.

Martinez scratches the back of his head. "Elijah Cooke."

"Fuck." Blaine drops his head back and lets out a long exhale of breath.

"Yeah." Martinez agrees. "Can't say I'm not all upset about this one."

Blaine lifts his head and eyes his partner. "You say that about all of them."

Martinez gives a small shrug of his shoulders. Pops a piece of gum into his mouth. "They all deserve it. If you ask me-"

"I didn't."

"-I want to meet this guy and shake his hand."

Blaine eyes Martinez. "You want to shake a serial killer's hand?"

Martinez pops his gum. "I want to shake the hand of the guy taking care of these monsters."

"You're fucked up, Martinez," he says with a short chuckle, not outright disagreeing with his partner.

"That's what the wife tells me all the time." Martinez grins.

Blaine shakes his head.

"I'm gonna go check out the scene."

"Hey, wait." Martinez takes a step forward. A serious expression taking over his face.

"What?" Worry begins to grow heavy in the pit of Blaine's stomach.

"Before you go in, I need to tell you." Martinez takes a breath. "He mentioned you."

Blaine's brows furrow in confusion. "Who? Him him?

Martinez nods his head.

"What did he say?"

"See for yourself." Martinez tips his head in the direction of the bathroom.

The deep breath Blaine pulls in is slowly let out before he steps into the master bathroom.

The mutilated body in the tub stands out amongst the pristine white walls and floors. Or what he can see of the floors, as pictures are scattered all over the tile. Pictures he knows are of innocent victims. Red stains the white porcelain of the tub. One of the victim's hands—missing a few fingers Blaine notes—hangs over the edge of the tub. His legs are stretched out in the tub. Head hanging over the edge. He's naked. Slices cover his entire body. Cuts that were meant to inflict pain and not bring about death. That along with the fact the guy has been surgically cut open and is most likely missing his heart only reassures Blaine he's right in thinking their killer is a medical professional of some kind.

"Fucked up, right?" Martinez says when he comes to stand beside him.

"Yeah." Blaine takes a step closer to the tub. Leans in a bit to get a better view of the body. "Did he..."

"Yup," Martinez answers his unfinished question with a grin. "Pretty sure the coroner is gonna tell us he did that while this piece of shit was alive."

Blaine doesn't scold Martinez for the name. Because Elijah Cooke is...was a piece of shit. Worse than. Anyone who did what he did and enjoyed it is deserving of the name. And the means in which he died.

He may be a detective and seek justice for the victims of the criminals he captures. But there’s always that small part of him that wants the kind of justice that Elijah Cooke was served.

"How did he not fight?" Blaine questions, although he suspects he knows the answer. The same one Martinez and him had been given the six previous times.

Their guy seems to have a knowledge of drugs. Uses a cocktail mixture to paralyze his victims before torturing them while they're alive and can feel everything.

"You know how," Martinez replies. He pops his gum.

“Maid found the body?”

“Yep. She’s in the kitchen. Is in quite a state of shock right now.”

Blaine can’t blame her. Any normal citizen doesn’t stumble on a scene like this and not be affected.

“You talk to her yet?”

“Was waiting for you,” Martinez replies.

Blaine stands back up. Continues to eye the victim's inner thighs that have been skinned and carved to the bone.

"Did you see your message?"

That grabs Blaine's attention. He steps away from the tub and over to the mirror, where he knows a message is written. And just like before, written in the victim's blood, are the words he's memorized by now. But it's what's underneath them, the new part to the otherwise same message that grabs his attention.

No one should escape justice.

P. S. Tell Detective Anderson thank you

"What do you think he means?" Martinez asks.

"I don't know," Blaine replies, though he suspects he has a suspicion as to what their guy is referring to.

"This will be a shit show once the news gets ahold of this."

Blaine agrees. Not only is this another victim of The Advocator, as he's been dubbed by the media, but add to the fact that the victim is Elijah Cooke, a well known man in high society, and journalists will be clambering all over this like flies on shit.

"Fuck!" He groans again.

This is the last thing Martinez and him need. They already deal with enough crap from the higher ups. Add in the media and this is about an even crazier circus show.

"Come on." Martinez lightly pats his shoulder. "We've got a maid to interview."

Blaine rubs the back of his neck and nods his head.

He tries to help Martinez with interviewing the still shaken up maid, but he’s no help. Not when his mind keeps going back to the message that was left for him. Thankfully, Martinez picks up his slack.

“You okay?” Martinez asks after they’ve freed themselves of the journalists demanding to know what happened and are safely in his car.

“I don’t know.” Blaine rests his head back against the headrest. He lets out a tired, heavy breath. “That message has me fucked up.”

“Understandable.” Martinez pops his gum. “Not every day a serial killer signals you out.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You know what else it could be?”

Blaine turns his head and looks at his partner. At almost twenty years older than him, with brown hair that is starting to gray at the temples, lines on his face that show a life lived, and a small belly gained from years of “wife’s delicious cooking” as he says, he has nothing but respect for the guy who has shown him everything in this job.

Martinez grins. “You need to get laid.”

Blaine groans. “Fuck off, Martinez.” It’s said in a playful manner.

Martinez chuckles and starts his car.

The entire drive back to the station, his mind lingers on the message he received. On who left it for him.

As much as he's against personal justice being handed out, he wants to find this guy. To ask him what makes him think he can do what he's been doing.

••••

Hot water runs down his naked, tired body. The shower a great welcome after the long night he had. The memory of which doesn't bring him joy as it would a certain type of person.

This isn't some scripted television show where he finds relief in taking someone's life. He isn't a monster that needs to kill to satisfy some inner beast. No, he's a normal guy dealing justice while trying to outrun his demons.

He's not fucked-up or crazy. Not like Bundy or Manson or Dahmer. He lives a completely normal life. He has a job he worked hard to obtain. He has friends. Has had boyfriends and lovers.

He's normal.

That didn't stop that black spot on his soul to fester and grow. The spot that was put there by the monster who promised to care for him after both his parents died. The monster who took his innocence. The monster he watched struggle for his last breath when he was seventeen and held him under the water in the tub.

The memory of killing Charles Hummel sends a surge of joy through him that no other kill of his gives him. Some fucked up part of him wishes he could go back and do it again. Wishes he could make Charles hurt the way he hurt him. Wishes he could inflict hours and days of pain on that monster.

Kurt pours body wash on the loofa sponge and runs it all over his body. His fingers pass over the scar on his right side just above his kidney. Tries to suppress the memory of how he got it.

Not now.

He can't let the memory take over his mind. It'll only bring a cloud of darkness he can't get out from under.

He thinks of good things. Of graduating top of his class from medical school. Of saving a six year old boy a week ago with a punctured lung and broken leg after being in a car crash.

He thinks of him.

The image of Detective Anderson flashes in his mind. Desire streaks through him like a set off firework climbing into the sky. Once it beautifully explodes it lights him up. Heat floods him. He skims a hand down his chest and torso. Teases his fingers at the base of his cock.

Eyes fall closed and he thinks of Blaine. Thinks of him as he runs the palm of his hand along his stiff cock. Wonders how it would feel to run his fingers through his thick curls. To kiss and lick and bite his tanned skin. To see him naked, and to ride his cock until he exploded between them.

He grips his cock as he imagines that. Strokes as he pictures straddling Blaine's trim waist and riding him without a thought or worry.

His orgasm hits him sooner than he likes. He comes all over his fist and the wall. Watches his cum slide down and disappear into the drain. Feels his cock give a twitch as he imagines fucking Blaine's mouth and coming down his throat.

He doesn't touch himself again. Can't. Even though he wants to. Knows he needs to finish his shower and get ready for work.

In his kitchen making a cup of coffee, bread toasting, a grin breaks across his face as he hears the news break about Elijah Cooke.

"Law enforcement is not saying much about the murder of Elijah Cooke. But what we do know is that he's the latest victim of The Advocator."

Kurt snorts at the ridiculous name given to him. If he had a say, he would pick something less judicial sounding.

A picture of Elijah Cooke popping up on screen standing in front of one of his high rises has a surge of anger growing in Kurt over everything that man got away with.

Not anymore.

He smiles at the thought. Remembers how he put an end to Elijah's deeds permanently the night before.

The memory of Elijah's eyes going wide as he silently screamed behind his closed mouth while he cut off one of his fingers pushes away that anger. The anger over the injustice that while alive Elijah never paid for what he did to his innocent victims.

"Detective Anderson, lead investigator on the case, was asked about the murder but gave no reply."

Kurt feels his insides go all warm when they show a video of Blaine walking with his partner out of the building while all media types yell questions at him. The stoic, unwavering look of strength on his face makes his heart jump. The way he seems to bite his inner cheek makes him smile. He wonders what words sit on Blaine's tongue. Wonders what he would say if he could.

From the first moment he saw Blaine after his second murder three years ago, he's been intrigued by him. Wanted to get closer to the man doing everything to stop him. But he's played it safe. Has kept his distance.

Last month, though, things changed for him. He saw the story break when Blaine saved Marla Hilsom. The desire to meet Blaine in person grew to an almost uncontrollable urge. He wanted to know about the man who saved others. Who sought out the monsters of this world.

Like me.

No!

He's not a monster. He's not like his uncle. Not like Elijah Cooke. Or any of the other men he's killed.

Victim.

He's a victim of his past. A victim of a situation he couldn't control. None of those men he killed are the victims. They're the monsters. The dark spots that take away happiness and hope. Dark spots that ruin childhoods and dreams.

He's the victim.

Coffee and toast forgotten, television shut off, he leaves his apartment and starts his walk to work. A big yawn has him stopping at a Starbucks he usually wouldn't step into. But seeing as he had a long night and didn't have his cup of coffee, he needs the much needed caffeine if he's going to get through his next shift.

The smell of coffee and vanilla and sugar is almost overwhelming when he steps into the store. He almost turns around and leaves. Considers just suffering through the terrible coffee in the break room at the hospital. But the thought of that black sludge they try to pass off as coffee has him stepping into line behind a young girl.

It takes a few minutes before he reaches the counter. He orders a simple large black coffee.

He grabs his cup when his name is called out. Goes over to the station to make his coffee as he likes. Pops the lid off and reaches for the sugar packets.

A hand brushing his has him jerking away. He looks to see who it is and feels his mouth go dry and eyes go wide when he looks at the man who's been a constant in his fantasizes for a few years now.

Blaine smiles a brilliant, beautiful smile. "Sorry," he says. "You first." He gestures to the sugar.

Kurt stands struck motionless and speechless as he stares at Blaine. His mind screams at him to say something. To open his mouth and speak anything. But that seems impossible at the moment.

"You okay?" Concern mars Blaine's face.

That snaps Kurt out of his moment of stupidity. "Yeah." He smiles and shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

Blaine's smile returns. "It's okay."

Kurt decides he likes Blaine's smile. Wants to see more of it.

He often wondered in the last few years what Blaine would be like in person. And he can say without a doubt that he's more stunning in the flesh. From his dark curls and eyelashes that frame his hazel eyes. To his straight nose and full lips. Everything about him is better in person. And up close, he can see the flecks of color in his eyes. The yellows and greens and browns that make up his eyes that look like a painter flung paint to a canvas and his eyes are the result.

"Blaine." He says the name with shock and awe, and an underlying hint of need.

Blaine face screws-up in shock and confusion. "How do you know my name?"

"The news," he quickly replies. "They were talking about you this morning."

"Right." Blaine seems relieved by that answer.

"I'm not some crazy stalker, like you thought," he teases.

Blaine chuckles as splotches of red stain his cheeks and neck.

Kurt wants to feel those spots under his lips. Wants to find out how hot the areas are. What his flushed skin tastes like under his tongue.

"Sorry," Blaine says. "Bad habit of being a detective. I assume the worst of things."

"No need to apologize." Kurt offers his hand. "I'm Kurt, by the way."

There's no denying the sharp jolt that runs through him when Blaine's hand slips into his.

By the surprised intake of breath he hears from Blaine, it’s clear he experienced the same thing as him.

"It's nice to meet you."

Blaine shakes his hand.

Kurt hates when he pulls his hand back. Wants to take it back in his hand. To pull him close and press their mouths together. Wants to invite him into his dark, fucked up world.

He doesn't. He busies himself with pouring sugar into his coffee. Tries not to think of how close Blaine is to him. Tries to do the right thing, the safe thing, and block him out.

Blaine can't be a part of his life. It's not logical or reasonable. Being with Blaine will only bring out problems he doesn't need to deal with. Will make life more difficult for him.

That's what he tells himself. That he should just walk away from the trouble Blaine could bring.

He doesn't listen.

Instead, he turns to Blaine and smiles. "Would you like to sit at a table together?"

Blaine returns his smile. "That sounds great."

They sit and talk and get to know each other. They talk until he has to leave before he's late. Then they talk for another fifteen minutes.

"I'm sorry," Blaine apologizes as they step out of the Starbucks.

"It's fine," Kurt assures him. "It's only a few minutes."

"At least let me give you a ride," Blaine offers. "Where do you work?"

Kurt considers the offer for all of two seconds before agreeing to it. "At the downtown hospital."

"A doctor. Sexy." Blaine smirks and winks to only show he's playing.

Kurt laughs. He checks the time on his phone. "Shit. I really need to go."

They climb into Blaine's car. He finds himself in front of the hospital less than ten minutes later.

"Thank you." He opens the door.

"Wait." Blaine shoots an arm out to grab his wrist. He stiffens at the touch until he remembers this isn't his uncle. That he's not about to be dragged to a dark room.

Blaine must notice because he quickly lets him go. "Sorry."

"No. It's not you." Kurt wills his heart to stop hammering and breathing to even out. "W-What were you going to say?"

Focus.

Breathe.

He thinks. Thinks of the warm sun on his skin. Thinks of strong coffee on his tongue. Thinks of Blaine.

His eyes drift to the man who calms and rattles him at the same time. The man who feels like the sun on his skin when he's near him. Who looks as strong as the coffee he drinks. And he wants to drink Blaine in. To open himself up and let Blaine give him that strength he seeks out.

"Can I see you again?" Blaine sounds so hopeful that it cracks the armor Kurt always puts up to protect himself.

No.

He should listen to his head. Should tell Blaine that he's not dating right now. That his life is a mess he doesn't want to invite anyone in to witness.

He listens to his heart.

"Yes."

A beautiful smile spreads across Blaine's face. It's more beautiful than any wonder Kurt has personally witnessed.

"I'm off Friday," he tells Blaine.

"Dinner?"

"Okay."

Blaine reaches in his pocket and pulls out a card. He hands it to Kurt. "This has my number. Call me so we can work out the details."

Kurt clutches the card like a lifeline. "Will do. Bye, Blaine."

"Bye, Kurt."

He climbs out of Blaine's car and walks into the hospital where he works. It seems as if he floats on a cloud the entire day.

By the time his shift ends and he's back in his apartment kicking off his shoes, he's exhausted. The combination of the night before and hectic day at the hospital has drained him.

He pours himself a tall glass of red wine. Drinks half of it before pulling out the card Blaine gave him. Ponders for a moment if he's doing the right thing.

He turns the card over and over again. Drinks his wine. Debates. Argues. Reasons.

For the first time in a long time a piece of happiness could be his for the taking. And he wants to greedily take. Because he felt what Blaine stirred inside him when they talked that morning. There's no denying that. No denying the feelings he never felt before. That weightlessness he's sought out for years but didn't think existed.

Blaine made him feel normal for the first time since he lost his parents.

Safe.

He'll be safe. Will make no mistakes. Will do his damnedest to keep his secret from Blaine. Blaine who is pure and wonderful, and everything a great man should be.

Who his uncle should have been.

Kurt dials the number.

Blaine answers on the second ring. "Detective Anderson. Who is calling?"

He smiles at the way Blaine answers the phone. Full of authority and power.

"Forgotten me already?" he teases.

"Kurt." Blaine sounds breathless and happy saying his name. "I didn't know it was you."

"I know." He laughs. "Now you do for the next time I call."

"Oh. So you're going to call me again?"

Kurt pours himself another glass of wine. He walks to his living room and turns on his laptop. The screen immediately lights up. He sets his glass aside and sits on his couch with his laptop.

"Definitely." He curls his legs under himself. "What are you doing, Detective?" His cock jumps at the title. His mind running crazy with all the ways Blaine and him could have fun with that.

His body aches in a good way.

Blaine's next words send a chill down his spine.

"Working on the Advocator case," Blaine casually answers.

Kurt's glad they aren't talking in person, because he's sure he just went pale as a ghost.

"Oh. Th-That's interesting." He tries to come off as nonchalant and uncaring.

He's reminded who he's talking to with Blaine's next question.

"You okay?"

Of course Blaine would catch on quickly that something is wrong with him. He's a detective after all.

A detective that could turn you in.

Kurt shakes the thought away. Focuses on Blaine.

"I'm fine. That whole thing is just scary." The lie is easy coming off his tongue.

"I know. If you ask me, though, I have to appreciate the guy."

Kurt's heart stops. "W-Why?"

"You've seen who he kills. Scumbags who deserved it."

"True." He can't control the way his heart races. Some part, some minuscule part, of Blaine understands why he does what he does.

"Anyways," Blaine huffs. "Let's discuss something else besides a vigilante serial killer."

Kurt can't contain his grin.

"What would you like to discuss, then?"

"Our date Friday night."

"Okay."

While they talk, Kurt pulls up the information on Gary Edwards. He plans his date with Blaine while starting a plan to give justice to all the victims of Gary Edwards.

He's a victim.

Not a monster.

"It's a date," Blaine says.

Things could get tangled bringing Blaine into his world. But that's a risk worth taking. One he'll happily take.

He smiles. "It's a date."

#klaine #klaine fic #Kurt Hummel #Blaine Anderson #tw #please read the note I wrote

41 notes · View notes

rankdisasster · 4 years

Text

the craft (1996)

“id love to see the craft made into a fic” requested by anonymous.

warnings: death, attempted noncon, alcohol

a/n: first movie-inspired fic of more to come. centered around Billy (Skeet Ulrich’s character) and the witchy stuff getting played on him as karma. highly recommend watching if you like cult classics!!

—

You could’ve guessed before even moving here that Hawkins was gonna be a fucking drag. The weather was gloomy, the air wasn’t fresh like you’re used to, and it was so uncomfortably quaint that it made you feel stranded and claustrophobic. You bit your nails the entire flight and even after landing, while the pouring rain soaked your clothes and drenched your hair when first stepping foot in the small town.

It was an especially frightening discovery after a gritty argument with your folks, spouting on about what a brat you’re turning out to be, how much of a disappointment you’re bound to become; so in the midst of a fit enraged, not moving from where you lay stubbornly on your bed with angry tears, you had accidentally slammed the door shut. After realizing what you’d done, curiosity had replaced vexation. Neither of your parents could call the cops or toss you in some looney bin, so you chose to avoid catastrophe by keeping it low and only using it if bored in private. It felt oddly empowering, treasuring the gift, but you’d never been compelled to use it for harm before.

After eating dinner with empty conversation and the only background noise being imaginary crickets and the rain, you’d excused yourself once your plate was wiped clean. Stomping back upstairs, ignoring any distasteful remarks aimed at your departure. You wondered that if the town sucked ass, then that meant school likely would too.

—

It wasn’t hard to see from a mile away that you did not come from nor belong here. Cliques scattered the halls, although this school surely isn’t as big as your last it still has its fair share. Jocks and douchebags, popular cheerleaders, edgy goths. Those titles never served to you, naturally feeling better going alone. Nobody tried approaching the new girl just to say hi or bother looking in your direction. That is until basic jock Billy Hargrove did with a mischievous smirk during lunch a couple tables away, noticing you’re all alone sipping on your school milk. With crass confidence in his stride, he makes his way over to you in the most dramatic, full-of-himself way as possible taking a seat across from yours.

“Lookin’ pretty lonely there, new girl. Y/N is it?” he raises one brow, not asking for permission before snaking Doritos from your lunchtray, chomping while maintaining a smug expression. You scoff before shoving the red bag of corn chips toward him.

“Help yourself. And yeah, that’s me. Who are you?”

Billy has taken the bag with a don’t mind if I do attitude, answering you with his mouth full while licking the stained nacho cheese off his fingertips. “Name’s Billy. So why you here all alone? Haven’t found your crowd yet, or you just a ‘fraidy cat?”

You roll your eyes before playing along with his stupid game. “Well Billy, I just moved here and haven’t talked to anyone besides my lunch buddy that just hogged my chips,” you snip, watching the cocky blonde tilt the bag up to his mouth to finish the rest of the crumbs at the bottom. When he’s done with that portion of your meal, he points to the carton of two percent.

“May I?”

“Nothing’s stopping you,” you bite with sarcasm. He chuckles at your obvious distaste but nevertheless resumed picking at your food and chugging a good amount of the dairy drink down.

“You owe me fifty cents, by the way.”

“Oh yeah? How ‘bout I repay you with a little somethin’ else instead,” he inched closer, the proximity allowing you the feeling of his breath fanning your cheek. You’d been rendered speechless, caught off guard with how shameless and flirtatious he turned. “I’ll repay you with a few pointers, what with you being a little newbie ‘round here. Sound good?” he finished, grinning at how tense and worked up he made you in seconds. “What is it, sweetheart? D’ya think I’d repay you with somethin’ else?” he snickered, taking your carton again and quenching his thirst, the white drips of milk falling down his chin.

“Nope. Just don’t give a shit about your advice,” you snap back into character, his arrogance provoking you to try using one of your little tricks; maybe make him stutter or choke just so he’ll leave you alone. But that would be breaking the rules, and you were strict against taking advantage of it to cause trouble.

“I’ll give it to you anyways. See, my crew over there thinks you’re pretty cute, so you could come around anytime you like. Definitely avoid those freaks over there,” he slyly nods his head over in the direction of two girls dressed in black, chainsmoking. “They won’t be too welcoming.”

“What’s up with them?” you hush inconspicuously, intridgued by their scandalous bravado. You could see yourself hanging out with them even if that meant disregarding all the misinformation Billy feeds you.

“See the little one on the left? That’s Nancy the Slut Wheeler. Nickname sorta explains itself. She fucked more than half the guys on my team and cheated on her long-term boy toy Harrington,” he explains, not shy about what’s coming out of his mouth no matter how derogatory or degrading. “Not speaking from experience or anything. And the bigger one is Robin Buckley, she’s a dyke.”

“Uh, okay. That all the dirt you got or what?”

“Nah, there’s more shit floatin’ around here about stuff they do. I’ve heard they’re into witchcraft, but I dunno if I believe that one.”

Now that snagged your attention, but you wouldn’t share a thing like that with a guy like Billy. “Anyway, thanks for sharing lunch, Y/N. Was a pleasure. You should come to my practice after school, we could have another fun little chat. Whaddya say?” he licks his lips, holding your stare to persuade you into visiting. “Please?”

You really could give a fuck about watching a bunch of sweaty guys toss and argue around a ball, no matter which sport, but it was hard to find courage to decline his pleading yet intimidating stare. “Maybe I’ll swing by,” you hesitate, earning an enthusiastic holler out of Billy before he gets up from your table and makes a pit stop near you for a moment to whisper in your ear.

“Really looking forward to it, new girl.”

Successfully hiding your hot cheeks as he pats your back, sending a wink over his shoulder before heading back to his circle of friends not-so-subtly watching. When the bell rings to signal lunch’s end, Nancy and Robin catch your eye, ashing their cigarettes, fixating on you. Flustered from getting caught, you quickly snatch your lunchtray and dump whatever’s left in the trash, hanging your head low as you make your way to your next class.

—

Biology class was humiliating. After approaching Nancy and Robin about a group project assigned on your first day, Robin gawked as Nancy glared without a yes or a no about letting you join them. It was a long shot anyways. While awkwardly nodding as they both continuously stare you down, you shuffle to the very back of the classroom. With nothing better to do, thinking no one was paying attention, you flick your pencil in the air, making it stand as your hands stay in your lap. Moments later, getting lost in thought about Billy, wondering what his intentions were, how you were ever gonna fit in here; Robin witnesses the unworldly telekinetic party trick. Her mouth hangs in awe, not believing she allowed Nancy to bully her into rejecting you.

“You don’t know what you’re even talking about,” Nancy argues, popping her chewing gum as she gazes in the bathroom mirror and applies another sloppy smear of eyeliner.

Robin’s scoff is followed by a sigh before turning Nancy away from her reflection. “I know what I saw! She can... do things. Like with her mind. She’s our third, I know it,” the girl vigorously nods her head. Nancy remained unconvinced but decides to give in if it’ll shut her dimwit of a best friend the fuck up.

“Fine, okay! We’ll talk to her after school, see what happens. You better not be fucking with me on this. We don’t need any incidents happening because you’re seeing things that aren’t there,” Nancy stares her down like a wolf threatening to attack, eyeballing the taller girl with satisfaction as she gulps submissively.

—

You decided there was nothing better to do than make an appearance at Billy’s basketball practice after school. As he dribbles the ball and taunts his opponents, he spots you from afar and takes his attention off the game and momentarily directs it towards you instead. With a wink, he sticks his tongue out teasingly before taking his tank top off and giving one of his teammates a high five. While lost in the dance of seduction with Billy, you neglect to notice the presence of two girls lingering behind you.

“He’s not actually into you, you know.”

Snapping your head back in shock, you recover from the cheap scare before identifying the voice as Nancy Wheeler. The one Billy had accused of being the school’s slut. Right beside her stands Robin, not looking quite as vicious as her partner in crime. Robin, the significantly gentler and taller one, gives you a warmer greeting of a wave and a tight smile. Billy said that she was the infamous “dyke.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, not easily trusting her word but also not believing Billy’s rumors either. Nancy looks over to the court where Billy skips around effortlessly, making a basket for his team and earning praise and applause from his coach.

“He did the same thing to me. See, first he’ll try talking you into sucking him off, then when that doesn’t work he begs you to fuck him. Says all the right things, you’re beautiful Nancy, please baby, I won’t tell anyone if you just come sit on my cock. Then after you tell him you’re still not ready, he tells the whole school you did it anyway. Makes shit up to impress people.” Nancy bites as-a-matter-of-factly, nodding over in Billy’s direction on the court. Billy, busily unaware of being your topic of conversation, jukes an opponent and snatches the ball, slamming the weaker boy down to the ground with a snap of his body being thrown to the ground. You tightened your hold on your schoolbag not knowing who to believe anymore. Hearing one thing and then another gave you a fucking headache.

“Look, it’s not— I’m not even here for him. It’s not what it looks like,” you stammer as Nancy raises her brow with dubiousness. She cracks a salty grin at you then turns to the boys playing on the court.

“Go Billy! Score that basket, baby!” Nancy shouts with manic laughter, sickly happy when the distraction disrupts his focus, causing him to lose the ball and get shoved backwards by another opponent. Nancy turns and slowly struts closer, sitting on the bleachers and leaning over to whisper in your ear with a ruthless ball of hate gleaming her eye. “He’s a jerk. I’d stay away if I were you.”

With that, she jumps off the bleachers and orders Robin to follow. The taller girl weakly smiles again as you sit and stare as they exit the gym and light a smoke outside. Billy watches them leave and huffs, jogging over.

“Hey. Thought I advised you to not hang around them,” he tisks, spreading his legs before pouring a cup of water down his chin to cool off. You blush and look the other way, clearing your throat.

“I wasn’t. They just sorta came and started talking to me,” you mutter with an attitude.

Billy scoots impossibly closer and fixes a stray hair dangling in front of your face, petting your cheek as if you were a child. “Well, don’t believe whatever shit comes from her fat mouth, alright?”

“Um— okay I guess.”

“That’s a good girl. Glad you came, by the way. Wanna gimme your number so we could do this somewhere a little more private, hm?” he beckons, taking another generous swallow to quench his thirst while holding your stare. You’re stunned and backed into a corner again to comply, nodding while grabbing a pen from your bag. Billy holds out his palm and nods to the pen in your hand, encouraging you to get writing. You waver another moment, unsure if it’s smart getting involved, before saying fuck it and writing the ten digits on his palm. Billy’s name gets shouted from his coach, breaking the thick tension that grew as the moments wore on. He yells back that he needed a quick break before blowing you a kiss. After tossing himself off the bleachers and getting back in the game, he stares down at his hand where the black smudged writing is and smirks, looking up only to find that you’re already gone.

—

“Almost didn’t think you’d answer, maybe gave me a phony number or you’d be with those weirdos again,” Billy snorts, bottlecap flying before handing a beer over. You chuckle uneasily before accepting the beverage, tasting the warm mediocrity before swallowing. It didn’t take long for him to call, now being week two attending Hawkins High. His choice of setting for this “date” was a rooftop of some dark building, stars out and streetlights being the only source of light. Billy’s arm has wrapped around you as you both sip on the beer he provided, an awkward silence suffocating the air.

When the blonde got bored, he’d started trailing his fingers down your back, tiptoeing them teasingly awaiting your reaction. When he gets nothing but you stiffening up, he swoops down to devour your neck, feeling you tilt your head for him to give more. Jackpot. His wandering tongue sucks a deep purple mark as his grabby hands reach to grope you through your bra, making you gasp and feel dumbfounded on what to do and what to say.

“Billy, I don’t think—“

“Mm, what is it new girl? You want more, don’t you?” he mumbles in your neck, then gets greeted by the feeling of blue balls and disappointment when instead of coming closer, you pull away. He scoffs and sits up, straightening himself out.

“I’m just not ready for... that. Sorry,” you weakly apologize, outrageously uncomfortable by the invasion of space and feeling wrong when you notice the growing tent in his jeans. “Are you... like, mad or something?”

Billy sighs, humiliated by your rejection that poked a hole in his ego. He won’t give up on his conquest that easy.

“C’mon, beautiful, not like I’ll tell anyone. We could just have a little fun—“

“No, I-I really gotta go. But I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

Billy glares at the ground, kicking a rock by his feet in annoyance before rolling his eyes. Guess he’ll just have to improvise instead when he brags to the boys tomorrow.

“Yeah, fine.”

—

The next day, sly comments were thrown at you before first period started. He didn’t talk to you at all like usual, your classmates whispering and giggling about the alleged “fun” you shared with Billy the jock Hargrove. Dirty details travelled around locker rooms, even raunchy ones about you supposedly riding him in the backseat of his car calling him “daddy.” He threw in another lie that you asked him to slap you in the face as he fucked you. The purple splotch he sucked on your neck didn’t help defend yourself.

“Hey, Billy!”

The jock turns away from the boisterous crowd that had worshipped him all day. Once he catches your eye he whispers to a boy next to him, whatever secret so hilarious that he clutched his stomach and snorted when Billy finished. He swiftly strolls over to you and folds his hands, faking formality with a plastic smile.

“Yes, new girl?”

“I wanna know why you said that stuff about me. You damn well know we didn’t do anything! How could you?” you whisper-shout, feeling disgusted and violated. Billy snorts a laugh and regains his composure a second later as if all this is some comedy sketch.

“Oh yeah? Really, new girl, I’d love to do it again sometime. Truly... I just don’t like sloppy seconds. You were great though, I had— nah, Daddy sure had a blast. But we’re done here.” Billy pats your head with mockery before strolling over to his circle of friends without a care in the world.

“You know what? Fuck you. Next time I’ll charge a buck an inch, make it cheap.” you spit, barely making it to the bathroom to scurry and wipe the tears desperately spurting from your eyes. You crawled to the corner of the washroom and hugged yourself, quieting down when you hear footsteps inching closer before entering. It was Nancy and Robin.

“Can’t say we didn’t warn you —“

“I know I should have listened to you guys. But now I wanna fuck with this bastard.”

—

Lovespells don’t take much, and the rumors were true. The Bitches of Eastwick had let you in, only took more convincing of your worthiness to Nancy, but she warmed up to you. When she saw what you could do she had to give Robin credit, you truly were their third. And finally, you’d been put in a place you genuinely belonged.

“Is he— is he staring still? What’s he doing now?”

“He’s totally still watching you. Holy shit Y/N, it’s working, I can tell!” Robin whispers as she muffled her laugh with the back of her hand, seeing how Billy couldn’t take his eyes off you longer than five seconds even in the middle of a lecture. As the bell rang, you and Robin gathered up your things to meet Nancy for next period. Billy wasn’t far behind, trying and failing to remain inconspicuous as he followed you.

“He’s behind us.”

“What?”

“Look out.” Right on cue, Billy pushed you and Robin apart to make room for himself while tripping over his shoelaces.

“Uh, hey Y/N,” the boy gulps, scratching the back of his neck, seeing his posse from afar giving him a “what the fuck” look. He flips them off and rubs his hand over your back. “I just wanted to, yunno, apologize for that shit I said. I feel real bad ‘cause you didn’t deserve it. You deserve a gentleman and I can be that for you now,” he explains, blocking your way. His eyes are void of hate or ridicule, instead swirling with awe and devotion as he bit his lip awaiting your forgiveness. You pretend to think, giving his head a noogie like an obedient pet, then grant a forgive-and-forget.

“It’s cool. Maybe tell your friends later that you’re a lying sack of shit, but for now, carry these books for me and my friend?”

He nods vigorously like a soldier eager to please, graciously taking your heavy books from you and Robin and stacking them in his arms. “Of course, Y/N. Anything in the world. Um, do you think I could sit with you in math?”

—

Billy had no fucking clue what happened to him, but he wholeheartedly couldn’t find it in him to even pay it a speck of attention. It didn’t bother him that nothing gave him any pleasure nor satisfaction anymore, the world shrinking to this dead, lifeless black and white, the only light and color he could see that brought joy was her. He could die just feeling her in his arms and he wouldn’t be sad. With complete and utter tunnel vision blocking him from surroundings, everyday he devoted himself to any task she wanted, even pathetically following her and her friends to the girls’ bathroom. He got in deep shit from the entire female staff, but he remained indifferent.

If she said jump, Billy asked how high. If she wanted him to braid her fucking hair, he’d learn fast and make sure it was done thoroughly and flawlessly. Billy was touch starved, weak, losing sight of everyone else around him. No more charming girls into bed, no more basketball wins for the team, his only purpose being solely Y/N’s love or validation. All priorities from the past drastically altered, but there were no second thoughts. No questions, just wants. Needs. The power she held over him was substantial and beautifully overbearing, like black magic or something.

Weeks after the spell kicked in, she now sits in his Camaro with her feet on the dash as Black Sabbath roars from the speakers. No complaints were heard on his end when you demanded he change the music, happily turning it to your favorite station. You plop a sucker in your mouth, tasting the cherry red flavoring before patting Billy’s head and calling him a good boy. Billy blushed and leaned into your touch, pulling over by the pier and shutting the car off.

“You don’t even know what’s happening, do you?” she asks with a laugh. He joins her even though he wasn’t aware of what’s funny. But he finds her delightful, so anything she does or anywhere she goes, he follows.

“No. No I don’t, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters. Just you and me,” he promises, playing with a strand of her hair before leaning in. He missed her candy-tasting lips when she turns her head, then feels something in his stomach churn after getting denied her kiss.

“Tough luck, champ. I don’t want that from you, just wanted to talk.”

Talk? Billy recoiled, clenching his fists at his sides. Something inside him is intensifying, he just doesn’t know what. Before he knows what’s happening, he’s shaking, burning with a need that feels so close yet so far. There’s no control stopping it.

“I mean, do you even eat or sleep anymore? It’s pathetic. This should be wearing off soon...” she trailed off, watching the waves crash at a distance.

“I won’t fucking eat or fucking sleep until I get what’s mine, you understand? I don’t care about anything else. I just wanna... why won’t you hold me?” he implored, yanking the collar of her shirt so she’s closer to his lips. It almost feels too good to be true.

“Stop! Jesus, I didn’t mean for it to go this far! You’re under a spell, you jackass, now let me go!” she squeals, punching his chest. Billy ignores it, that indifference coming back. He reached for his belt when he thinks he has her where he wants her but gets stopped by a righteous kick to the crotch, making him howl in anger.

“Goddammit!” the boy whined, cradling himself through his jeans from the excruciating pain.

“Stay the hell away, you hear me? Don’t ever come near me or my friends again,” she threatens, exiting the vehicle before stomping away. Billy scrubs the tears off his face and punched the steering wheel with miserable frustration.

—

“He... he grabbed me. Wouldn’t let go this time,” you gulp, feeling the ghost of his frighteningly tight grip pulling you. Steam shoots from Nancy’s ears as Robin takes comfort and asks if you’re okay. Nancy has already stirred up a plan for revenge as she flips through the pages of spells, searching for the perfect one.

“Nance, what are you doing?” you ask with reluctance, knowing it isn’t anything good.

“We need to make him pay. He was gonna hurt you, case you forgot. Hargrove’s always been a goddamn scumbug, but he tried fucking you without your permission and he won’t get away with it this time.”

—

Billy gulps the last of the beer from the solo cup and belches, eyes half-lidded and bloodshot. They widen a bit when he spots Nancy enter the house party. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you again, and if he has to talk to your leech of a best friend, so be it. The blonde seeks Nancy upstairs and follows her to a vacant room.

“Where is she?” he demands lazily, eyes faltering once again as he loses balance and falls to the bed back first. He gets comfy with the beer nestled in his grip, still expecting her to give him insight on your disappearance.

“How cute. Miss tormenting your little wife, don’tcha, hot stuff?” Nancy mocks, crawling over to where he lays on the bed and trailing two fingers over his crotch. Billy reacts with stealth, disgusted as he roughly shoved her hand away.

”Don’t. I’m warning you,” he threatens. “Tell me where the fuck Y/N is. I need, I need to talk to her—“

“I’m not telling you shit! She doesn’t want you, understand? You meant nothing to her this whole time. She used you.” Nancy laughs and points her finger at him. Billy rolled his eyes, calling bullshit. You wouldn’t do a thing like that, not in a million years. This is typical Slutty Wheeler, throwing tantrums because she couldn’t get a taste of his dick anymore.

Nancy’s blood boiled, veins popping out of her forehead; on the verge to end this already. But she has to fuck with him like he fucked with her first. The teenage girl burns with hostility as she recalls the spell, working her magic. She runs her hands over her face as it morphs into yours. She takes a look in the mirror and finds your eyes staring at her reflection. With a sick, evil smile, she gets back on the bed and runs her hands down Billy’s chiseled chest, feeling him jump until he sees your face. He gasps, too dumb from the spell and drunk from the liquor to realize he was being tricked again.

“Baby, I’ve missed you so damn much,” he mumbles to who he thinks is you, unbuttoning Nancy’s shirt and kissing every inch of skin he sees. She moans in ecstasy, laughing at how fucking easy he is, then sticks her tongue down Billy’s throat. They were all over eachother for another twenty minutes until a furious knock interrupts.

It’s you and Robin.

“What the fuck?” Billy wipes his mouth of Nancy’s spit then throws himself off the bed in a hurry. Her spell wore off, now changing back to her usual self, giving Billy a playful wave.

“You’re — you’re a witch! They were right!” Billy stutters, his world turning upside down making him sick to his stomach.

“They usually are,” she shrugs.

“Nancy, you got what you wanted. He’s freaked out, now let’s go.” you ordered, the guilt eating you alive. Nancy doesn’t stop.

“Your lover’s a witch too, yunno. The only reason you’re obsessed with her is cause we cast a spell on you. But that’s why I’m here, helping you forget.”

Billy’s chest heaved up and down rapidly, shaking his head, sobering up. “No. No, she didn’t — she wouldn’t do that,” he denies, sweat gathering on his forehead and heart hammering fast.

”NANCE! This is fucking over! Now let’s go!” you beg, loathing his puppy-dog eyes. Robin stands frozen beside you, knowing how unpredictable Nancy got when she’s angry.

“You’re just jealous.”

Robin gulps and closes her eyes, knowing that’ll set her off.

“Jealous?” Nancy emphasized, preying onto the boy as he backs away. “You’re Y/N’s servant. You barely fucking exist to me. This whole time you’ve treated girls like whores, but you’re the whore!” she cries, feet lifting off the ground, towering over him as he backs further towards the window. Billy’s beyond petrified now, weeping quietly as he dares try calling for help.

“I-I’m sorry, Nance. You know I didn’t mean it. I liked you last year, but— but I’m in love with her now, and I’m sorry!”

His sorry ass apology does nothing besides push the last of her buttons, feeding into her wrath.

“Did you hear that, Y/N? He says he’s sorry! Oh, what a shame we have to kill him, ‘cause at least he’s sorry!” Nancy claws are her hair, spinning back and fourth, screaming nonsense as Billy pleads and holds his hand out to you.

“Who’s it gonna be, Y/N? This rapist scumbag slut, or your friend that took you in when you were a nobody?”

Tears of your own had escaped, mortified by how escaladed things have become. You shook your head helplessly, holding onto Robin for safety. There was no stopping her now. Like a wave from a natural disaster, Nancy thrusts her arms in the air and hurls the boy out the window with God-like force. You’ll never forget the sounds of his cry for help on the way down and the SPLAT when his body hit the pavement. Nancy lets out a sigh of relief as if a long day’s work is finally over, and wipes the sweat beading off her forehead. She turns to you and Robin after catching her breath.

“What’re you staring at, guys? C’mon, let’s find Robin a girlfriend next.”

—

my first whack at a horror-ish/thriller instead of drama/romance. I freaking LOVE this movie, def go check it out if you haven’t cause there’s a lot more plot I left out. thaaaank you all, I’ll be starting the next movie fic soon !:)

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things fanfic #billy hargrove #stranger things imagine #the craft (1996)

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