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#and then my t shot was extra bloody too like I’m fine but what a day. I would like. extra credit in life. which is both normal to want and
genderfreakxx · 8 months
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Do I get extra credit for living most of today sober and with only one functioning headphone
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vendettaparker · 3 years
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What a Dumbass [P.P]
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Summary: Peter’s mistake leads to you being injured. 
Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 2.1K
Warnings: Swearing, like a substantial amount, suggestive content kinda, gun shot wound, and flustered!Peter 
a/n: I really liked writing this. I couldn’t stop laughing at some of the dialogue. and the mistake peter made to cause the whole set-up of the story is so funny to me. like i can legit see him making this mistake. also, i’m gonna make a permanent tag list, so please send me an ask or message me if you want to be on it! <3
        ─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
     Peter Benjamin Parker is a fucking dumbass. All the time mostly. Most of the time his dumbassery leads to a lot of annoyed avengers, a lot of clean up, and a lot of spilled secrets. Hence why like three people who definitely shouldn’t know he is Spider-man do. But every once in while his idiocy can lead to an unexpected happily ever after, at least until he fucks something up again. 
     This particular fuck up has yet to be determined as a happy accident or your new 13th reason. It all started when that spider bitch decided it’d be a good idea to watch some explicit content on his laptop. Now, this wasn’t particularly an unknown activity for him to partake in, since we all know about his little impromptu purchase in Germany, but unbeknownst to this dork, his aunt was in the next room over working on a tear in his suit. And to make matters worse, he accidentally just so happened to purchase a subscription using said aunt’s credit card that was pre-setup in his laptop. 
     Now May is a very understanding woman. Very sex-positive, very loving, and inclusive; the whole shebang really. So when she happened to catch this idiot doing what he most certainly shouldn’t have been doing, she wasn’t mad, just thoroughly disturbed. Then she got the notification about the purchase. That was a bit more taboo in her eyes. So Peter was grounded from patrolling for a week and his laptop privileges were revoked for two weeks. That was fucking merciful compared to what this whole fuck up put you through. 
     At the school that following Monday, Peter spent the whole first, second, fourth, and lunch period trying to convince you to take over patrol for a week. Sure, you could definitely handle it, not to pat yourself on the back or anything, but you were significantly stronger than Peter, so it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But you just really didn’t want to. Peter had his ‘Peter Tingle’ to help him find danger, while you’d actually have to look. It just seemed harder for you to do than it would be for him. 
     “Why are you even grounded?” You sighed after Peter's 3rd time bringing up the possibility of you patrolling for him at lunch. 
     “He got caught watching and buying p—” Ned started laughing.
     “Ned! Shut up!” Peter yelled, slapping his hand over his friend's mouth. 
     “How has your identity not been leaked yet, Jesus Christ.” You mumbled, giggling. You flipped through your chemistry textbook, writing notes to prepare for Friday’s quiz. 
     “Yeah, and how come you didn’t know May was home?” Ned pushed Peter’s hand away. “Where was your ‘Peter Tingle’ then?” 
     “She’s not a threat, dude. But shit, I really wish my tingle detected her.” Peter groaned, a deep blush covering his features. “Please (Y/N). I really, really don’t wanna leave Queens without any protection for a week. I’ll try to convince May to let me go out on the weekend, so really it’s only five days.” 
     “I guess I could help you out, but you owe me. I should really spend this time studying for my chemistry test. Iron bitch is gonna have my head on a spike if I fail another chem test.” You said, highlighting more notes. 
     “Okay! Delmar’s for a week, anytime, anywhere.” Peter said putting his hand out for you to shake. 
     “Make it a month, I know my worth.” 
     Peter hesitated, but eventually gave in, “Fine, but you better do a good job.” 
        ─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
     So now you were stuck patrolling from 8:30 to 11:00 every night. It wasn't bad per se, and nothing too eventful happened. You stopped a small convenience store robbery, gave a few kids some tips at the skatepark, ran some errands for an old lady, and saved a cat from a tree. Thursday night was the real kicker though. Your night had barely started and you accidentally got in the middle of a drug deal between some smaller mob and a real messed-up junkie. This should’ve been an easy takedown, only six people in total that needed to be taken out, but like was mentioned before, you don’t have Peter’s goddamn, stupid fucking tingle. So after taking all six of the perps out you started to walk away after alerting the police. Unfortunately, one of those assclowns had come to, and grabbed the gun a few feet away from him and shot it towards you. The bullet went through your thigh and out the other side. Screaming in shock and pain, you used your own throwing knives and knocked the gun out of the mobster’s hand, then you proceeded to knock him out again with a few good punches to his noggin, maybe a few more, just for good measure. But this wound would need to be cleaned and stitched up. And if you went back to the Tower, Steve and Tony would give you an earful about “watching your surroundings” and “being more careful”. So in a moment of pure adrenaline and desperation, you texted Peter. 
You: are you home
Spider-Dork: Yeah, why?
You: i’ll be there in 5 
Spider-Dork: What? Why? Is everything ok?
Spider-Dork: Hello??? (Y/N)????
(Y/N) declined (3) calls 
Spider-Dork: Answer my calls idiot. 
     Peter’s texting and constant calling was cut short from a crash in his room. 
     “(Y/N)? Is that you?” Peter called from the couch in the living room. 
     “Yeah, can I borrow a t-shirt?” You called, fumbling around accidentally knocking over another lamp. “Oops, sorry!”
     “Uh, yeah sure. In the closet!” Peter called back pausing his show, prepared to make his way over to you. 
     “And some sweats?” You called back, blood dripping all over Peter’s hardwood floor. 
     Peter got up to make his way to his room. “Yeah, second drawer on the left side.” He said as he made his way to his bedroom. Knowing you were in there, most likely changing, he knocked. “You decent?” 
     “Nope, not really. I need a pair of your boxers too, though.” You called through the door, now seeing that the blood splattered on your underwear as well. “Also, bring the first aid kit when you come in.” 
     ‘What? Why?” Peter said in a more stressed tone, pushing his way into the room, completely ignoring the fact that you were very much not decent. “Holy shit.” He said seeing you out of your suit, in your bra and underwear, blood dripping down your right leg, pooling onto the floor. Your hand, red and bloody, pressed onto what he only assumed was the wound and blood seeping through your fingers. 
     “Bring a mop too.” 
     Peter ran out of the room to grab the first aid kit, plus some extra bandages and a cleaning solution. When he came back in he found you in the same state, standing in the middle of the room, eyebrows furrowed in pain, clutching your right thigh. 
     “What the hell happened?” He gasped, motioning for you to sit on his bed. You hesitated, not wanting to mess up his sheets. He seemed to notice your thought process quickly adding, “I have to wash my sheets anyway.” 
     “Gross.” You mumbled, scrunching up your face in disgust and finally settling down on his bed. 
     “Move your hand and tell me what happened,” Peter said kneeling on the floor next to the bed, positioned right at your hips. You removed your hand, bloody instantly seeping onto the bed. Peter winced looking at the hole in your leg, quickly grabbing the peroxide and dumping heaps of it onto your leg, much to your distaste. 
     “I got shot.” You stated as he cleaned the blood around the hole with alcohol pads.
     “Well, no shit. I mean by who and how?” 
     “Mobster. Sneaky bitch got me while I was walking away.” You winced as Peter inspected the wound further. 
     “I need to stitch this up. Did it go all the way through?” He said lifting your leg to look underneath for an exit wound. 
     “Yeah.” Peter found the exit wound and held your leg up with one hand, pouring peroxide on the back of your thigh with the other. 
     “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)! This looks really nasty.” Peter scolded, setting your leg back down and prepping the needle and sutures. “What if this was in your chest? Or—or if you didn’t get here in time? You could’ve bled out!” 
     “Well sorry that I don’t have your stupid tingle to help me out when I’m being fucking shot at!” You yelped, gripping the bedsheets. 
     “You don’t need spidey sense, you need fucking common sense,” Peter mumbled, stitching his first suture.
     “What the fuck did you just say?” You looked at him incredulously. 
     “I— uh, nothing.” Peter huffed, focusing back on stitching you up.
     “This is your all your fault, to begin with!” You accused, shifting uncomfortably, due to the needle constantly being stuck into your leg. “You’re the one that begged me to go on patrol for you! You’re the dumb bitch that got caught watc—” 
     “Ok! Shut up! For God’s sake, you’re never gonna let me live that down.” Peter groaned, finishing up the last stitch. “Flip over.” He commanded, pushing at the side of your waist to help with the movement. 
     “Well, it was fucking dumb. Don’t you check to make sure nobody’s home? God, we all know you’re a vocal bitch too.” You said, fully situated on your stomach. 
     “What the fuck is that suppose to mean!?” He gasped, prepping another needle. 
     “You’re a sensitive boy.” You shrugged, wincing when Peter started his next stitch. 
     “I-I am not sensitive! I’m emotionally and physically staunch!” He defended, going in for another stitch. 
     You just raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Sure, whatever you say, babe.” You winked at him, blowing an exaggerated kiss. 
     “You're a jerk,” Peter mumbled, finishing up his stitching job. “A jerk with a fucked up leg.” 
     You hummed, quite amused. Peter got up and started to collect his medical supplies. He shuffled out of the room to put everything away. When he returned you were trying to get up and walk, wincing at every slight movement. 
     “Here, let me just—” Peter lifted you up, bridal style. A small yelp coming from you when a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Sorry.”
     “It’s fine. Can you help me get dressed?” You said as he walked you over to his desk and set you down in his desk chair. 
     “Sure.” Peter blushed, painfully aware of your lack of clothes. He picked out some clothes from his closet and drawers. He helped you into them, wallowing in the uncomfortable silence, taking in each whimper and wince from you whenever he brushed against your thigh. 
     “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He sighed after you were all dressed. “This is my fault.” 
     You looked at his distraught face, feeling bad for initially blaming him for the events of tonight. “No, Pete. It’s fine. I should’ve made sure all of the guys were knocked out.” You put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.
     “No, I should’ve been more careful when I was watching that stuff. I have my spidey sense, I would’ve been able to avoid getting shot. It’s not your fault that you didn’t get bit by a radioactive spider.”
     “Pete, really, I’ll be better by next week anyway. It’s fine.” 
     Peter shook his head, sighing. “I just feel so bad, I shouldn’t have forced patrolling on you.” You hugged him and rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s my fault you got hurt.” 
     “Peter stop. It’s just an unfortunate accident.” You mumbled, hugging him closer. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”
     “But it didn’t happen to just anyone (Y/N), it happened to you. And I caused it. I-I don't know what I’d do if something ever happened to you. What if it was worse?”
     You sighed, pulling away from Peter and cupping his face, seeing the regret and shame pooling in his eyes. Without much thought, you pulled him closer, slowly connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. Truly getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the feeling of perfection. 
     Peter’s eyes widened in shock for a moment, before he was kissing you back, reveling in the feeling he’s been dreaming about for months. You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter flushed at your actions, unable to stop the wide smile crossing his features. 
     “Sorry,” You mumbled sheepishly, “just needed to shut you up for a second.”
     “Maybe I should talk more, just to see what happens,” Peter smirked, pulling you in for another shorter, but just as sweet, kiss. 
     You hummed against his lips. “I really like you. Even when you're a dumbass.” You sighed against his lips.
     “The feeling is mutual.” 
     “Rude. I’m not a dumbass.” You gasped in faux offense. 
     “You’re the one with a bullet wound.” he deadpanned 
     “You’re the one who got caught watchin—”
     “(Y/N)!”
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Stormy Sleepover - Tom Hiddleston x Reader
I haven’t written in like, years. I previously wrote for Colby Brock at @colbybrocksmolder and someone asked me to write for Tom so I figured I’d give it a shot. 
I hope you enjoy! 
_________________________
“Did you hear there was a storm coming?” one of your PA’s, Andi, asked you. You were in charge of making sure the cast all had assistants and that their life on set ran smoothly. You’d been working with these guys since the very first Thor movie.
“I got a notification on my phone a few hours ago, but this building is so big I doubt we’d know if it had actually hit yet.” You pulled up your weather app and clicked on the “!” checking to see what the “alert” was. “Oh god” you said, shocked to read that most of the county was already out of power.
“I told you, call me Chris.” Behind you, Hemsworth was chuckling leaning over to read what you were looking at on your phone.
“Ha, ha.” You laughed at his cheesy joke. “But seriously, has anyone been outside in the last few hours?”
Looking at your phone, Hemsworth shrugged and headed towards one of the truck bays.
In front of you, you watched Evans and Tom training with each other. There were various scenes in this movie involving water and a big thing the trainers had been working with them on was safely landing in water. It sounds funny, but you can break bones or knock yourself unconscious if you land wrong.
“Bad news” Hemsworth yelled out, getting everyone’s attention. “This building has been running on generators. There’s no power in the whole lot.” He dramatically shook his arms, flinging rain water on you and Andi.
“No wonder this water has gotten so cold” Evans added, shivering. “It’s usually warmed, but It’s ice right now.”
You sent a text to the director who was in a meeting with the writers. You received a text back fairly quickly. “Let everyone know we’ve got 6 more rooms at the Hyatt Hotel a few towns over for those who don’t have trailers on the lot. Tell everyone else that it looks like the power won’t be fixed until tomorrow afternoon. There’s a whole line of downed power lines that they can’t get to until the storm stops. The generators only run lights and a few outlets and it looks like they’re going to die soon too. The 16 seater van is outside with a driver to take people to the hotel.”
“Looks like we’re done for the day.” You said mostly to yourself, with Hemsworth and Andi hearing you.
“Everybody in.” Hemsworth hollered out so you wouldn’t have to yell.
“Thanks.” You shot him a smile.
“Any time” he replied, flinging his long wet hair towards you.
“I take it back.” You laughed, moving to stand on your chair.
“I know that not everyone has a trailer in the lot yet as we haven’t actually started filming, so for anyone that doesn’t have a home here there’s a van outside that will take to you the hotel that has power nearby. It’s already super chilly in here, so I imagine it’s freezing outside.” You spoke so everyone could hear you.
“Can confirm.” Hemsworth said, starting to shiver a bit.
“There’s umbrellas near the catering tables and there’s a bunch of old hoodies and jackets in the extras costume bay. Make sure you’re warm and dry before you head to the van.”
Everyone that didn’t have a trailer on set left once they had their instructions.
“As for the rest of us, we have to hunker down in our trailers until this passes. I have solar power and full solar batteries on my trailer so all of you are more than welcome to come crash with me if your trailer is too cold or you need electricity for anything.”
You, Hemsworth, Evans, Tom, and Scarlett were the only ones on set that had trailers so far.
“It can’t be THAT cold” Evans joked, grabbing his bag and heading towards the door.
“Scarlett went to her trailer a few hours ago” Tom shared. “I only got here last night so I don’t even have my trailer set up. Are you sure you’re okay if I go grab my bag and come steal some of your space?”
“Absolutely” you smiled at him. “And if I know Scarlett, she’s already in my trailer. I don’t think her trailer was even hooked up to power yet. Her’s was the newest one on the lot.”
“Thank you, darling. I’ll go grab my bag and check Scarlett’s trailer on my way to yours.” Tom replied and then jogged towards the door.
Andi left to catch the van once you passed your notes from the day on to her. “Be safe. Don’t worry about making it back tomorrow. I will email you any further updates I have for assignments.”
“I’m going to head back to my trailer and see if I have any cell services.” Hemsworth shared after everyone else had started leaving. “I know my wife probably has all of the weather and accident alerts on for the whole county and she’s probably worried.”
“Be safe.” You said, taking his offered hand so you could step off of your chair safely. “I’ll grab the satellite phone in the emergency kit and take it to my trailer just in case we need it.”
“It looks like you may have a full house tonight.” Hemsworth Joked.
“You’re welcome to join the insanity.” You teased, throwing your hoodie on and grabbing the satellite phone.
When you made it to your trailer, you were pretty soaked. Even with the umbrella, the rain was insane.
“Thank God you didn’t leave.” Scarlett startled you.
“I knew you’d already be in here.” You laughed. “Tom is on his way. His trailer is like yours. We didn’t even get a chance to get them hooked up before this crazy storm hit.”
“Oooo Lover boy is coming.” She teased.
“Oh, shut it. We’re friends, Scar. That’s it. We’ve never been more than friends.” You started stripping out of your wet clothes and slipped on a pair of soft black sweatpants and your favorite hoodie. It was dark green with “Mischief” written across the front. There were gold horns painted on the hood.
“I’ve known your friend almost as long as you have and the way he looks at you…I’m just saying. I think there’s something there.” She teased, gathering your wet clothes and putting them in a laundry bin that was tucked under one of the beds.
You both turned to the door hearing what sounded like a woman screaming bloody murder. “Let me in” Evans yelled, banging on the door.
Scarlett opened the door while you grabbed a towel. She laughed at him, seeing him drenched head to toe. “It was unlocked, tough guy.”
“You hit an octave I don’t think I can even reach, Cap” you teased, throwing him the towel and going back into your PJ drawer for an oversized t shirt and a baggy pair of sweats.
“I was wrong. I was so wrong. It’s fucking freezing in my trailer and I didn’t realize that the water would be cold because the power has been out for so long.” Evan’s teeth were chattering as he stripped out of his clothes, trying to dry off.
“I think I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve seen you naked, Evans.” Scarlett laughed, handing him the clothes you picked out for him.
“Thank god you aren’t seeing the front. It’s so cold I think my manhood has retreated fully into my body” Evans replied, throwing the clothes on and drying his hair with the towel.
Both of you laughed. You started brewing a pot of coffee and turned your water kettle on for tea. “Well, Scarlett already claimed the couch.” You mentioned. “Why don’t you take the regular bed so that if Hemsworth joins, you two can bunk together. It’s queen size so it should fit you both comfortably.”
Evans crawled into bed, wrapping himself in the blankets and trying to warm up. “Where will you sleep?”
“The dining room table and benches turn into a bed.” You replied. “It’s a full size, so almost as big as the one you’re in.”
“Did you hear that?” Evans perked up, trying to look out the tiny window he could still see through from the bed.
You and Scarlett quieted down. Getting louder you could hear Hemsworth yelling “NO, I AM THE GOD OF THUNDER!” every time lighting would strike and the sky would boom.
“Looks like it’s going to be a full house tonight.” Scarlett laughed, opening the door. “Get your godly ass in here, you crazy Australian.”
“He’s clearly the superior Chris” Evans joked. “Are you fucking crazy?” he asked as Hemsworth stepped into the trailer.
“Possibly. Probably.” Hemsworth laughed, trying not to get water all over the floor.
Scarlett grabbed the towel Evans had used to dry off and put it down on the floor by the door. “Here you go.”
“Much appreciated.” Hemsworth replied, dropping his duffle bag. “Can I change in your bathroom?”
“It’s all yours” you said. “Do you need clothes or did you bring some dry ones?”
“I brought some. I also brought some fun. I’ll show you after I get out of my sopping clothes.” He answered, leaving his shoes by the door and stepping into the bathroom.
When the bathroom door clicked, you heard a knock on the door. “Tom, come in” you hollered.
Tom was wearing a long poncho with an umbrella. He had a large bag with him and when he got inside he kicked his shoes off, putting them by Hemsworth’s shoes. You grabbed his bag from him, putting it by the second bed you had just finished setting up. He closed the umbrella and pulled his poncho off, his black sweatpants and black hoodie bone dry.
“You make the other two look like heathens.” Scarlett laughed. “They showed up soaking wet and screaming.”
“He is a gentleman.” You gave him a smirk, causing his cheeks to blush ever so slightly.
“Is there even room for all 5 of us?” he cleared his throat and laughed.
“Absolutely” you ushered him towards you. “Evans and Hemsworth are sharing that bed. Scarlett has the couch. I just set up the extra bed right here, for you.”
“For us” he replied with a stern look. “I know you too well, darling” he smirked. “You’re going to offer to sleep on the floor by the couch and I won’t have any of it.”
“Tom, it’s fine. I have a sleeping bag and…” You tried to ensure him you’d be okay, but he interrupted you.
“If you try to sleep on this floor I will walk back to my freezing trailer so you can have the bed to yourself.” The stern look softened as he pulled you into a tight hug. “You know you don’t always have to be the one to make the sacrifice. Plus, I promise I don’t talk in my sleep or have crazy dreams. I’ve even been told I’m quite comfy to cuddle with.” He dropped his eyes to yours, smirking.
“Oh, if I must.” You teased him, kissing his cheek as Hemsworth finally came out of the bathroom. “Scarlett knows where the laundry bin is.” You pointed him towards the hamper full of wet clothes.
“Do I smell coffee?” Evans sat up in bed, looking towards you. “Come cuddle, buddy” he laughed opening his arms for Hemsworth who let all of his body weight drop on Evans. “Jesus Christ, you’re a brick.”
You laughed, pulling down mugs from the cabinets and making everyone coffee. “Coffee or Tea, Tom?” you looked over at him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed you two would share.
“Tea, my sweet. But let me help you.” He stood and started grabbing sugars for everyone’s coffee, asking how many they normally added.
“There’s pasta in the crock-pot as well if anyone is hungry.” You announced.
“Food?” Hemsworth’s head shot up and he crawled off of Evans.
“God, men are so simple.” Scarlett laughed, grabbing the coffee you handed her.
“You are not wrong.” Evans added, asking if he could help with anything now that he wasn’t freezing to death.
“I think we’re good.” You replied, dishing up some pasta for Hemsworth and Evans and passing them off to the boys. “Scarlett?” you offered her food, as well.
“Actually, I’m craving something sweet.” She answered.
“I’ve prepared for this one” Tom answered, going to the large bag he brought with him. “It took me so long to get here because I walked to the catering room to grab some snacks. I’ve got a whole tub of cookie dough that probably needs to go in the refrigerator soon, a tub of sour sweets, and what looks like a large cherry pie.”
“Pass the cookie dough this way” Scarlett answered. “This man has his priorities straight”, she laughed.
After everyone had sat back on their beds, dug into their food, and warmed up with their coffee or tea, Hemsworth remembered his bag. “Since we are most likely going to be stuck in this trailer until tomorrow afternoon, I brought a different kind of treat.” He picked up his bag and started pulling out bottles of alcohol and putting them on the counter. “Anyone opposed?” he asked.
“What a G!” Evans laughed, crawling out of the bed to help Hemsworth make drinks. “What kind of mixers do you have, Y/n?”
“There’s some cans of soda, some energy drinks…there’s some juice…and then we’ve got coffee for that Bailey’s I see” you answered.
Tom was smirking next to you as the Chrises started making a make-shift bar out of what they had available to them.
“We’ve got to get this started with a bang” Hemsworth said, handing everyone two shots each. “The first one is to us having a great night reunited with our make-shift family.” He smiled at everyone and downed the first shot, everyone else following suit.
Evans spoke up after. “The second one goes to our incredible, gracious, and always prepared host. To Y/n!” He downed the second shot, everyone following his lead. Except for Tom.
You shivered as the second shot went down your throat and looked over at Tom who was still holding his full shot glass, sitting next to you on the bed. He had a small smile, giving you a look you couldn’t place. Quietly he spoke to you “I’d like to add a few things to his toast, but I think it may take a few more drinks to find the right words.” He downed the shot and took a sip of his tea to wash it down.
“Who wants what?” Evans asked, making everyone a strong drink.
For the first few drinks, everyone just talked and caught up. It had been a while since the group had been on a press run or a film set together.
“Y/n!” Evans spoke up.
“Yes, Cap?” you answered, starting to feel the alcohol course through you.
“Truth or Dare?” He smirked. His eyebrow raised like he was challenging you.
“Truth.” You answered, staring him down.
“Hmmm…Have you dated anyone working on any of these movies? Cast or crew?” He asked, finishing off his drink and standing to make another.
“I haven’t” you answered truthfully.
“Wait, let’s not do truth or dare, lets do truth or shot.” Scarlett suggested, wanting to get a few answers out of you and Tom.
“I like it.” Evans said, grabbing everyone’s shot glasses back and filling them so he could hand them out as needed.
“I answered, so I’m in the clear. Hemsworth has a higher alcohol tolerance than we do so I need him to catch up. Who is an actor in the MCU you hope you never have to work with again?” You asked, hearing Tom chuckle next to you.
“I can’t answer that!” he laughed, taking the shot Evans handed him.
“That’s the point.” You laughed.
He laughed, handing the empty shot glass back to Evans. “Fine, fine. Tom. In our last interview panel together, they kept asking you if you were seeing someone and you answered no. You then said that you were interested in someone, but that you hadn’t done anything about it. Who is she?”
“Oh no.” Tom laughed, feeling the alcohol a bit himself. “I think I need to take a shot. Are all of these going to be so hard?” He grabbed the shot that Evans passed off to him.
“I think you guys just need to not be pussies and answer the damn questions” Scarlett laughed, shooting you a look.
“Right?” Evans laughed, taking the empty shot glass from Tom.
Tom scooted a bit closer to you when he handed off his shot glass. “Okay, Evans. If you had to marry one of your on screen romantic co-stars, who would it be?”
“Oh, come on! It’s gotta be Scar Jo! The one and only.” Evans laughed, putting his hands over his heart and giving Scarlett a loving look. “We’ve been in movies together damn near my whole career.”
“We would annoy the hell out of each other.” Scarlett laughed.
“It’s true. We’re practically siblings. Okay, Y/n” Evans rubbed his hands together like he was plotting. “Favorite actor you’ve been able to work with ever.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a very specific question you want to ask, but instead you’re asking questions trying to fluster me?” you shot him a look, trying not to blush.
“Hey, I’m just playing the game.” Evans laughed, picking up a shot to let me know I didn’t have to answer.
“Keep your shot. I’ll answer this one. It’s definitely Mr. Mischief himself over here.” You pointed your thumb to your side at Tom, trying not to blush.
“No, there has to be someone cooler than me.” Tom blushed, hiding his glee by taking a sip of his tea.
You looked at him, summoning the strength of the drinks you’ve been throwing back. “You should give yourself more credit. You’re amazing.”
You stayed in the moment for a few seconds, just smiling at each other. “I think it’s your turn”, Tom said, putting his arm around your shoulders.
You blushed, realizing you had just been staring at him. Leaning into his side, you asked “Okay, Evans. Have you slept with any of your MCU co-stars?”
“Oh shit!” Scarlett laughed, standing up and handing Evans one of the shots.
“Yeah, yeah.” He laughed, downing the shot. “I’ll pick on someone else this time.” He filled up everyone’s drinks while thinking of his next question. “Okay, Scar. Who is the most attractive man in the current MCU?”
“Oooh, good question.” Scarlett thought about it, going through the movies outside of the Avengers. “I have a few different answers.”
“Explain.” Hemsworth replied.
“Well, There are a few people I find attractive for different reasons, I guess.” She answered.
“How about you share this list and we decide if you still need to drink for not picking one person?” You laughed.
“Well, Hemsworth is an amazing dad. Like, you look your happiest when you’re in the messiest, most chaotic situations with your kids. Most dads are the opposite. They’re trying to escape that.” Scarlett explained her first answer.
“Valid points made so far” Evans agreed, leaning against the counter.
“Hiddleston is the fucking epitome of a gentleman. You’re literally everything women want.” Scarlett turned towards tom, making him blush.
You quietly spoke “She’s not wrong” in Tom’s ear, feeling him pull you tighter to his side in response.
“You’re too kind”, Tom answered to her, downing the rest of his drink.  
Scarlett looked to Evans. “I think I have to go with…Idris Elba.”
“I want to be mad that I didn’t make your list, but that man is truly a god.” Evans responded.
The game started to wind down as it got later into the night. Seeing everyone kind of calm down and get settled, you walked around making sure everyone had what they needed.
“Anyone want water so you don’t wake up hungover?” you laughed, pulling some water out of the fridge.
“Here!” “Please!” you handed water bottles out to everyone.
“I’m not setting an alarm for the morning. It’s super late and I doubt anyone is going to be back on the lot before dinner time anyways.” You said, grabbing you and Tom each a water bottle before turning off the main light.
You turned on the small light above your bed so you could sort out your sleeping arrangements. You grabbed your toiletries bag and pulled out a make-up wipe, trying to clean your face since you didn’t really get to do your nightly routine.
“Can I use one of those?” Tom asked, realizing he hadn’t been able to wash his face either.
“Come here” you said, scooting against Tom so you could run the damp cloth over his face. He watched your gentle movements, feeling you run the cool cloth across his skin.
“Thank you” he said, kissing the back of your hand before scooting back in the bed and laying down.
You put your bag back and drank some of your water before crawling fully into the bed and turning off the light. “Are you good?” you asked, turning to face Tom in the dark. You could feel his hand reach out and settle on your arm.
“I am” he answered, running his hand down your arm, to rest on your hip. “I want to finish your toast” he whispered, scooting his pillow closer to yours. “What Evans said was true, but you’re so much more, y/n. You’re beautiful and incredibly intelligent and there is not a single person I look forward to seeing more than you.”
“I think you’re drunk” you replied, knowing that if the light was on your face would be bright red.
“I am” Tom chuckled. “I still stand by what I said.”
You reached forward and ran your hand up Tom’s chest until you felt your fingers graze the side of his face. “I’m going to have to thank Hemsworth for getting you tipsy” you laughed, teasing Tom. You scooted closer to him, feeling him wrap his arm around your back and hold you against him.
“I couldn’t have waited much longer to tell you anyways” Tom replied. “I was just nervous you didn’t feel the same. We’ve been such good friends for so long…”
You interrupted him, capturing his lips in a kiss. “I’ve wanted to do that for years” you said, connecting your lips in a second kiss.
“Oh, thank god.” Tom said, a little louder than intended. “Can I call you mine?”
You laughed, trying to stay quiet. “Please, do.” You answered reconnecting your lips.
Tom rolled to hover over you, deepening the kiss.
“Fucking finally!” you heard Scarlett call out, making Tom collapse on top of you in laughter.
“Right?” Evans added. “It’s been ages.”
“Fair warning, I am telling this story at your wedding” Hemsworth said.
“I think our friends are happy for us” Tom said in a much quieter voice, flipping the two of you so that you were laying against his chest.
“I mean, I’m pretty happy for us” you replied, snuggling into his warm chest.
“Me too, love. Get some sleep” he said, running his hand up and down your back as he felt your breaths even out.
322 notes · View notes
uniquevocashark · 3 years
Text
A Good Servant Part 5
Content Warnings for:
graphic descriptions of gore, blood, murder, threats of murder, lady dimitrescu and her daughters eating people, threats of violence, assault, bodily harm, grievous bodily harm, blood baths, implications of murder, mentions of experimentation (very brief), mentions of manipulation, mentions of excessive eating, mental fuckery done by the protagonist
THis monster is 11 PAGES ON WORD DOCS, AHHHHHHHHHHHH
You cast a look at Daniela, who sneers at Vanessa with more venom than a viper. Vanessa’s hands raise up and she backs away from you, the cut on her neck shallower than you expected. Daniela pushed her sickled down harder until Vanessa was forced backwards, several meters away, then dashed back in front of you. She left her sickle loose in her hand, then flashed an imitation of Cassandra’s smile.
“Why did you touch our things?” She repeated, the joy leaking back into her voice. She turned her wrist slightly and her sickle caught the light brilliantly, a clear demonstration of an agonising amount of time and effort spent polishing it.
“Your ‘things’?” Vanessa said and you would have intervened if a bug hadn’t flown into your mouth.
Another crawled along your collarbone and down your hands and when you looked found that they had red eyes rather than green. Miss Bela bit down on your tongue gently when your mouth twitched into a frown and you smoothed your expression before Daniela noticed.
She grabbed your choker and yanked you forward along with it, displaying the Dimitrescu crest that usually sat proudly cradled against your throat, “This isn’t just decoration, you stupid man-thing. They belong to House Dimitrescu.”
“They don’t.”
“She does!”
“We,” Vanessa said, winking at you over Daniela’s shoulder, “Work for Mother Miranda.”
“But she doesn’t love Mother Miranda,” Daniela pouted, so caught up in stamping her foot that she yanked you even closer, “She loves us. And you aren’t allowed to touch what I love!”
Vanessa raised her brow, and you shot her a glare. Gently, you placed a hand on Daniela’s, and she looked at you moon-eyed after Bela had flown out of your bleeding mouth. “It’s alright, Daniela.” You said softly, rubbing her taut knuckles.
“It is not alright,” She insisted, then released your choker to grab your arm tightly. “Only House Dimitrescu can touch you.”
“I’m aware,” You said, and pushed her hand away, “Now, I must settle Vanessa in, Miss.”
“Fine.” She pouted, much like her mother, and disappeared in a haze of bugs. Another bug, with a bulkier wing set and yellow eyes bit your finger before fleeing as well. You brushed off the blood on your apron and shot a glare at Vanessa. The cut, you noted, had already disappeared. Mother Miranda must of improved how quickly she could regenerate.
“What?”
“’What’.” You mocked, averting your eyes.
“I am right,” Vanessa said, clutching her chest like a Victorian lady in need of a fainting couch, “We, technically, belong to Miranda. Not her adopted anger issues.”
You rolled your eyes and wiped the smears of blood of the walls that Daniela had made in her haste to get between the two of you. “Whether or not you are factually correct is irrelevant.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I am,” You said tiredly, “Part of my very serious job is keeping the girls happy because it’s more important than the semantics of my situation.”
“It’s more than just semantics,” Vanessa insisted, “You’re lying to them.”
You sighed, “It would hurt them too much.”
“You’ve gone soft.” Vanessa bumped your shoulders together and smiled that smug grin you could never forget.
You crossed your arms and bumped her back. “Shut up.”
“Stop complaining for two seconds, would you?” You said, holding the door open for her.
Vanessa shrugged, leaning over you instead, “Who said I was complaining?”
“Go in the room.”
“I’m supposed to observe you.”
“And I need to attend to Lady Dimitrescu, now in.” You nudged her towards the room, and she stumbled more than she should have.
The room was small but warm. It was set next to your own and had been empty for as long as you had been there, so you had hijacked it for personal use until then. Lady Dimitrescu had given the room to Vanessa for the duration of her stay and, while you were attached to it, you cleared your extra things and remade it for her.
Vanessa, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate the spartan room all that much. She didn’t seem to like the lack of windows, or how dry everything was. You frowned at her for that.
“You should be used to this kind of living.” You said.
Vanessa sat down at the desk and propped her legs on the desk. “Maybe I got used to luxury.”
“Yes, Mother Miranda’s operating table is so clearly the height of ostentatious luxury.”
She laughed, then covered her mouth a moment later.
“Get comfortable,” You said after a moment, “I’ll be back later.”
“Do you have to help her?” Vanessa asked.
“I work for her.”
“You also kiss her ass when she isn’t around.”
You frowned, “I do not.”
“You do,” Vanessa cooed, “Every conversation you manage to sneak her in. Lady Dimitrescu this and Lady Dimitrescu that.”
“Not this again.”
You rubbed one of your temples. Vanessa shrugged from her seated position, her eyes barely moving from you. “She isn’t even here.”
“I’m not entertaining this,” You said flatly, “Stay in here, I’ll be back by the end of the day.”
“Define ‘end of the day’.” She said, picking up the axe you kept under the bed.
“Before dinner.”
“Okay.” You heard her say before you shut the door.
You walked halfway down the hallway then turned to look back at her door. It was closed, the corridor was well lit and warm and the noise of the kitchen from further down was the only thing you could hear. The only difference from yesterday was a thick black line that marked one side of the walls.
Lady Dimitrescu’s rooms were emptier without her pet, something that you always noted when she lost one. The extra bedding was gone, the extra candles, the smaller set of care products that she usually kept and the trunk for clothing. It almost looked too stark, and you could almost understand her obsession with always keeping a pet.
“Madame.” You greeted and she blew a stream of smoke at her own reflection.
“Wesker,” Lady Dimitrescu murmured, removing her gloves, “Is the bath ready?”
“Yes, Madame.”
“Good.”
She didn’t move from her spot, slowly removing one glove at a time.
Her vanity mirror was covered in a viscous substance that drooled down onto the mahogany
“Come here.” She said softly, extending one hand towards you without turning to look at you. Her hand gleamed grey in the darkness and you were halfway to her before you realised you had moved. She planted the hand on your shoulder and untied the choker around your neck.
Her mouth was dark with blood, spilling into a cascade down her dress. What you assumed was the remains of Mihaela, a few bones, a dark patch of blood and intestines strewn neatly on the floor, sat at her feet. She caressed your cheek and brought you closer to her. You flinched and she smiled, her eyes burning gold, leaning over to capture your other cheek.
“What’s the matter?” She murmured, pulling you tight against her, smearing blood over your face and chest, “Are you afraid of me?”
You sucked in a breath that reeked like open bowels, “What is going on?”
She tilted her head slightly, and her mouth split too widely when she smiled, through her cheek and near her ear. She opened her mouth and her cheeks split open, her long black tongue pouring out of the side to lick blood off her jawline.
You moved your head away gently and she moved, licking your face from chin to forehead to clean away the blood she had left. She cradled you in her lap, dragging her lips over your forehead then her teeth and you stared at her blood covered neck quietly.
“Who did you use for the bathtub?”
You cleared your throat, “The chambermaids, Madame.”
She licked one of her fangs, “How many?”
“Fifty-four.”
She growled, moving to hold your waist and hug you to her chest. Lady Dimitrescu licked the blood from your cheek, her tongue as rough as a tiger, then rested her chin on the top of your head. You weren’t sure how to move; when you moved even slowly, she tensed, and she would periodically hum before she licked your face. It did not help much that her tongue scraped the flesh from your face and that she took obvious pleasure with each scrap she took from you.
Her face slowly sewed itself back together, but it was not a painless or soundless process. You watched her face, the cheek slowly come together, veins re-establishing before being filled over with flesh that reddened as soon as it grew. Her tongue grew softer, and she was no longer slurping down your flesh to fill her stomach.
“Bring up a few of the serving staff, I’m in desperate need of a good bath.” She said but didn’t let you go. You cautiously push her face away, and she nibbled at your fingertips softly. She was staring at you, her pupils wide and eyes hungry.
“Would you prefer the pastry chefs or the line cooks, Madame?”
She smiled, and it was normal, though her lipstick was smeared down her chin, “The line cooks should suffice.” She said and licked your bloodied cheeks clean.
You prided yourself on many things, because you were good at many things, but avoiding the suddenly clingy Dimitrescu family was nearly beyond your capabilities. The girls you could at least avoid for most of the morning, as they were always busy with one thing or another, but Lady Dimitrescu took every opportunity to have you with her as long as possible. It seemed not a minute could go by, even if you were cleaning her room, that she didn’t have a hand on you. By thirty past ten that morning, she had already called you five more times than she usually did.
When you could get away from her, and the endless workload she had decided to gift you after eating Mihaela, her daughters were there instead. Even dragging yourself through the dungeons and moving past the ghouls, one of them would find and attach themselves to you. And the first to find you as she always was, Daniela would appear and grip your sleeve or hold your hand in greeting.
She always bounced between anxious and forward when she wanted to start a conversation, not that you minded. She was, you thought, a reflection of what you were like when you were younger but made of flies. She was also hyper conscious of how she acted when the staff were around you, which you appreciated even if the extra effort was unnecessary.
“Are you thinking of leaving us?” She asked, sitting three steps down from you on the ladder you stood on.
“Thinking?” You paused, “Something like that.”
She wrapped her arm around your shins and looked up to you, her insects buzzing reminiscent of a cat’s purr, “Yes, or no?”
You stopped wiping at the thick black stain for a moment, “A bit of both.”
“That isn’t really an answer.”
“It’s more complex than yes or no,” You continued, rubbing at the stubborn spot with more force, “And try not to sound so unsure, it lessens the stern attitude you’re aiming for.”
“Okay,” She said, resting her cheek against your calf, “Can you explain the complex reasons?”
You rung out your rag, dipped it in water and tried to wipe the stain away again. You did so again, and Daniela watched you with a growing pout. “Please?” Daniela continued, kicking her feet into the air, “Don’t you love me enough to tell me?”
“There is no need to resort to emotional manipulation,” You countered, and pointed at the brush you needed, “Practice your sternness again.”
She cleared her throat while she handed you the brush, and her tone went serious, “You manipulate people too.”
“For complex reasons, and never about love,” You said lightly, patting her hair carefully and watching her smile bloom across her face, “I don’t really have a say in whether I leave or not, Daniela. If I must go, I go.”
Daniela dug her nails into your skin, but you didn’t mind it much. She held you a little tighter against her and frowned down at the floor. “I don’t understand, she gave you to us. So, you’re ours.”
“It doesn’t always work that way, Daniela,” She nodded but looked unconvinced, “Don’t frown so severely, it makes you look upset rather than stern but that was perfect vocal control.”
“Thank you.” She said but you could see that she was still lost in thought. She touched her necklace gently and toyed with one of swords, staring at you more severely than she usually did.
You looked out of the window you had just cleaned, to the sun shining down on the village and smoothed her hair down the side of her face again. “The day is rather fair, Daniela. You should ask your mother for a horse-riding lesson.”
She perked up, looking outside the window herself. “That sounds like fun.”
She hopped off the ladder and you followed her. The stain on the window had left your water black as ink and you still needed to finish the rest of the windows in the corridor before lunch, so you said your goodbyes to her. Daniela kissed your cheek and transformed into a swarm of bugs before you could react, already gone by the time you had registered the kiss.
She had always been more affectionate than her sisters, so you could almost excuse the sudden change in farewell. Out of all of the Dimitrescu, she was the one who liked you enough to want to be physically affectionate. You knew she had started doing it out of jealousy, though, ever since Vanessa had gotten too close to you than she liked.
After Daniela had disappeared and after a late lunch, around two thirty in the evening, Bela would find you as you left the kitchen.
Bela spoke the most and had mastered that stern tone that Daniela only practiced around you when they were too busy to find her. Her bugs had brilliant red eyes and settled along your collarbone with growing numbers each time she saw you. Now she kept a few bugs on you regardless of the time and you had woken to them buzzing above your head for the past three days.
“Thank you for recommending that exhilarating horse ride.” Bela greeted sarcastically.
“Miss Daniela wanted something to do.” You replied simply.
“Daniela has her books if she’s bored.”
“Miss Daniela has had trouble with riding for the past three years, it was an opportune time for her to ask.”
Bela walked closer to you than she usually would, and though she looked at your arm she didn’t take it. “Are you leaving?”
“What gave you that idea?” You replied flippantly.
“Are you planning to leave?”
“I can’t say.”
“Were you ever going to tell us?”
You didn’t meet her eyes.
Bela grabbed your elbow and made you face her, “Were you going to tell Daniela, at least?”
You pulled your elbow free from her grasp.
“I see,” She said severely, in perfect imitation of her mother, “Does Mother know?”
“She does.”
Bela frowned then let you go and then, softly. “She does?”
“I told her the day before last.”
Bela continued walking with you for a few minutes then turned to you as you were polishing a bust. “I need to talk with Mother about these secrets,” She spat the word out, “Don’t say anything to my sisters.”
Then she was disappeared in a swarm, and you were left with a group of flies clambering along the crest nestled along your throat.
Cassandra was never much of a conversationalist, focused more on her latest project that was undoubtedly a present for her mother than you. She had most strongly inherited her mother’s disposition towards people. She didn’t consider you a person, for example, more like a walking meal with the potential to be a person. Any opinions you expressed weren’t headed very much; it seemed to be a particular trait of the Dimitrescu family. It didn’t stop her from hooking an arm around yours after breakfast and not leaving you alone for the rest of the day.
Unlike her sisters, she kept a silent vigil over you, only speaking to shoo Vanessa away when she tried to get close to you. It wasn’t until just before dinner, when you were trying in vain to get your staff organised while Cassandra loomed over them with her sickle bared, that she started talking to you.
“You upset Bela yesterday.” She said.
You sent three maids back into the kitchen for messing up the placement of the cutlery, “Yes, I am aware.”
“What did you say?”
You paused, and the remaining maids looked at you and each other uneasily. They slowed down and you snapped at them to adhere to proper form.
“Well?”
You bit the inside of your cheek to stop from pursing your lips when you turned back to face her, “You’ll have to ask Miss Bela.”
Cassandra forced her sickle against your throat, where your neck met your head and cornered you against the unfinished table. “If you hurt my sister on purpose, I am going to gut you no matter what Bela or Mother says.”
You pushed her sickle away from your neck. “Then you should aim your sickle at my gut and not my neck, Miss Cassandra.”
Cassandra chuckled throatily and moved away from you. She smiled and thumbed the point of her sickle with a smile, wiping the edge you had touched almost wistfully. She gave a flourished goodbye, waving her sickle happily and walking into the main hall.
Vanessa took up the rest of your time before dinner, still seating pleasantly at the desk in the same position you had left her. She grinned at you and sat up properly.
“Hey there, stranger.”
You gave her a look.
“You’re not looking so good,” Vanessa said, coming over and gently rubbing the scrapes along your cheeks, “Are you doing okay?”
“You know what’s strange?” You said instead.
“What?”
“I don’t feel anything. I’m not even sore and I’ve been talking all day.”
You moved into her room and sat down on her bed, gripping the mattress and letting out a long sigh. The black stains that had been plaguing you all day were also here, you noticed. Vanessa came over to you, sitting down and wiping your cheeks with a wet cloth. You hissed at the cold and she stopped, uneasy.
“It’s fine.” You said and pushed her hand away. The cloth was black with blood.
“It isn’t.” She insisted.
“It’s just a little blood.” You murmured and collapsed onto her pillows.
She lay next to you, dabbing against the scrapes on your face. She looked worried so you let her clean away the blood while your face knitted itself back together. She sat you up gently and poured you a glass of water, not leaving you alone until you had three glasses. When the bell rang you wobbled upright, and she looked almost ready to dive to catch you.
“Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”
“Will you make it that far?”
You waved her off, “Follow me if you must.”
“That would be for the best.”
You frowned, unnerved by her complete lack of blinking, “I suppose.”
Lady Dimitrescu was fully dressed by dinner, with her makeup freshly reapplied and her dress clean of any stains. It was one of her newer dresses, red as the wine she drank with buttons that were white around her wrists and down her back. Her hair was still wet and was kept in a bun instead her usual bob, tightly held at the side of her neck.
You dabbed at the loose droplets of blood that trailed down her neck after she sat down, and she bent her head away from you to give you ample room. It exposed the entirety of her neck to the light, and it glowed warmly in the candlelight. Vanessa slurped on her wine a little louder than usual and you frowned at her.
Lady Dimitrescu ignored the flagrant misuse of manners and turned to the cooked liver and sliced heart she was served that evening. If you were not mistaken, three bodies went into her meal, from the sauce made of blood wine, the thick liver from Rachel’s husband and Rachel’s heart. Vanessa looked comparatively smaller, nibbling on her veal and carrots drowning in gravy. It was comical to see such a normal dinner served at the Dimitrescu table and you smiled.
Daniela noticed immediately and dropped her knife on the ground.
“Whoops,” She said when you walked over and picked it up and pulled a new one from your pockets. “Thank you.” She smiled.
Lady Dimitrescu sipped her wine, “Be careful, my dear.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Bela was much quieter than she usually was, not jibing Cassandra for eating without a fork or rolling her eyes at Daniela for being so obvious. Her eyes were fixed intently on Vanessa and barely strayed while her hands dissolved into bugs and ate her meal for her.
“Tell me, Vanessa,” Lady Dimitrescu began, drawing all eyes towards her, “How are you enjoying my castle?”
Vanessa swallowed the half-eaten potato she had in her mouth, “I haven’t seen much of it.”
“Oh? Not one to explore, are we?”
She looked at you, “I was advised against exploring.”
Lady Dimitrescu put a hand to her chest, the other planting itself on your shoulder and smiled magnificently, “I assure you, me and my daughters don’t bite. You are free to explore to your hearts content.”
Vanessa leaned back into her chair, “Thank you, I think.”
Lady Dimitrescu laughed and turned her smile on you, well pleased with herself. Her eyelids drooped for a moment and her smile went softer, “My dear Wesker will always be busy, of course, but my daughters do so love entertaining foreigners like yourself.”
You cleared your throat and she hummed then turned to Vanessa and returned to their last conversation. It was a clunky transition, one that she wouldn’t have made without reason, and you moved back to where your staff were. Their numbers were halved, the others the dinner on the girls plates, and you were left with only the best of the bunch. The perfect additives, the Lady called them, fit for her most expensive of wines.
You were glad to see that two more were worthy than the last round of cattle.
But that was out of your hands now. Lady Dimitrescu had ensnared Vanessa with a menagerie of questions that had clearly been building since their last conversation and you found many of your secrets were gouged with extensive glee.
Within the hour Daniela had eaten through an entire cake and was on to her second, while Cassandra had disappeared once again, kissing her mothers’ cheek as she left. Lady Dimitrescu’s menagerie had expanded to a national park of questions, and she spoke on and on without seeming to pause. Vanessa would finish answer one and have a dozen more posed within the next minute and she was ruddy faced and out of breath from talking so much.
Bela nibbled at her own slice of cake, strawberry and lemon tonight, looking so intensely at Vanessa you thought her eyes would merge. She listened too, more seriously than her sister did, and you could practically see her drinking in every detail of the conversation with interest. She looked at you a few times, for wine or in surprise, and at one point leaned over to murmur yikes after one particularly child unfriendly story.
You remained out of the interrogation, refusing to answer any question outright. That was how the Lady got in, she asked one innocuous question and then bombarded you with a million more until she was satisfied. Vanessa, it seems, hadn’t learned her lesson after the first time and fell for it faster than a plane landing on an airstrip.
Lady Dimitrescu laughed at one point, eyeing you, “Did you really?”
“I have no recollection of what she’s saying, Madame.”
“Surely you must, it sounds so outlandish,” She licked the wine from her lips, and you dabbed away the spit. “Unless you two are playing games with me.”
“No, Madame,” You said innocently, “We aren’t.”
She smiled, “Is that so?”
“It is, Madame.” You said and began clearing the table.
The morning after, you and Vanessa were in the kitchen, the windows open to the cold breeze. You were cutting vegetables, Vanessa’s dexterity with knives as good as a wad of putty left in the sun, and she instead kneaded dough poorly. Daniela had inadvertently whipped her sisters into an emotional frenzy after dinner last night and caused a series of unceremonious gorging on whomever was unluckiest and unwanted by their mothers’ palette.
With the chambermaids gone, it was the cooks who took the brunt of their hunger. Your sibling remained with his most trusted sous chef and the pastry chefs.
You had taken the last line cook down to the cellar last night, while she was still alive and kicking, dragging her feet along the floor in a vain effort to stop you. She had made excellent bread and glazed wonderfully; she smiled while she kneaded and had the best work ethic of all of them. it was for that reason you had recommended her for cadou experimentation and that reason alone why she had been spared from being eaten alive.
You had cleaned her hair up after you had restrained her and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear.
“You shouldn’t glare so ferociously,” You said, setting down a plate of mouldy bread, “You’ve been given a great opportunity.”
She looked mortified.
“You aren’t going to remember,” You continued, pouring a glass of water, “You don’t understand it and you won’t remember what I’m saying now, but you should be honoured by being brought here. It’s much better than being made into a bath.”
“What?”
“What precisely did you think happened to your paramour Jessica?” You smiled at her expression and set down the candle while she strained against the shackles. “The rest of the chambermaids were put into the Lady’s bath as well. They were sorely needed.”
This was perhaps your favourite part when you cycled through staff. There was something greatly satisfying about watching the pieces fall into place, faith wavering as they learned the truth and then visiting them afterwards and seeing the light in their eyes dead but for hunger.
Playing games, as Lady Dimitrescu said once, after she had caught you unravelling one of her subject’s entire life thread by thread. She had seemed pleased by your tendencies and even instructed you on how best to reveal certain information bit by bit. But you weren’t here for the joy of it, not right now at least.
“You’ve always been good with people, Bronwyn.” You said conversationally and she looked at you oddly.
“Clearly not, since I trusted you.”
“I’ve been manipulating people into liking me for years,” You waved your hand flippantly, “What would you have done if you had known I was like this halfway through your stay?”
The chains rattled, the ghouls scuffled past you and the cell and deeper into the dungeon. You heard the girls giggling down in the darkness, the scream of a man ringing so loudly as to hurt your ears and the cackling after. You stared at Bronwyn and watched her morph from horror to disgust and everything in between.
“Escape?” She said.
“But to me, personally. What would you have done? Would you stop talking to me? Forget things? Pretend you’re fine when you’re obviously so stressed pretending as to be breaking apart at the seams?”
She swallowed and you backed away from the bars. You had ruined your mood already, and you had only been here for five minutes. The bars were grimy and rusted and you rattled them absently.
“Nevermind,” You said instead, picking up the candle, “You’ll want to rest before Lady Dimitrescu gets down here.”
As you left you heard her sharp intake of breath as she spotted her sister in the cell opposite her.
“You know, you really had me convinced.” You said to Vanessa when you walked into her room. She was, as ever, sitting blank faced on the bed where you had left her, her chest cavity open to reveal nothing but black mold beneath it.
“Did I?” She said, looking at you and smiling, “I don’t really remember much.”
“The last time I saw you, you were opened exactly like this on a bench in a cell. Do you remember that?”
“No,” She confessed, “I don’t remember how we got to this shit village either.”
“We were still recovering from waking up, they shoved us in a potato sack together and hauled us here.”
“I don’t remember that.” She said and moved her hand to watch it as it crumbled.
You removed the pins holding her skin open, folding them back against her ribs carefully. You lay beside her as she morphed into a blob of black fungus, nestling into the crook of her neck and hugging her chest to you carefully. She still retained a semblance of her former shape, but you could see the details of her face smudging away.
“Vanessa?”
“Yes?” She gargled; the words distorted away from her usually cheerful voice.
“What is it like? Is it painful?”
Her head was growing a large mouth, so you grabbed the knife you kept strapped to your thigh and straddled her chest after you had drawn it. Her chest was a mess of black and it had cooled drastically, like steam as it rose and changed to rainwater. A tongue lolled out of it and long black claws sharpened from her fingernails.
“I see.” You said and started cutting through her neck.
103 notes · View notes
jadedxrealityw · 3 years
Text
-Time Of The Month- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader
   Kody: This is for all my homies who are taking a trip down a heavy river with bloody mary or for anyone who just enjoys stories of Draco taking care of you while your on your period
   Warning: Cursing, mentions of blood and hopeless Draco
   House: Slytherin
   Summary: Bloody mary has cursed you with her presence and Draco is in for a hormonal storm.
    ♡~🐍~♡
   While scribbling down notes for potions class you felt a pain in your abdomen. You wince slightly and stop writing, placing your quill down on the desk. This couldn’t be happening, not now. Not while in class. Hoping it was just a false alarm, you pick up your quill again to continue taking notes.
   Not even a minute later a sharp pain came from your abdomen again. Fuck. You needed to get out of this classroom now. Slowly raising your hand, you waited for Snape to notice you were there. He looked up from his book and eyed you for a moment “Yes Ms. L/n?” he said in his usual monotone voice. You gulped, hoping he would take pity on you. 
   “May i visit the hospital wing, im not feeling to well”
   Snape noted your uncomfortable expression and your other hand on your abdomen. He may have been a man, but he wasn’t student. He sighed and made a waving gesture with his hand “Yes. Take your things with you as well” You nodded and gave him a quick smile before stuffing your belongings into your bag. You get out of your seat and leave the classroom.
   ♡~🐍~♡
   As you pushed open the doors to the hospital wing, you saw Madam Pomfrey at her workstation. She looked up when she heard the sound of the door opening and smiled “Why hello Ms. L/n! What can i do for you today?” she asked, walking from the desk and over to you. You laugh nervously and lean in so only she could hear “I need pads/tampons and some medicine for cramps” you say in a hushed tone.
   Madam Pomfrey makes an ‘o’ shape with her mouth and nods. Heading over to her workstation, she grabs a brown paper bag and fills it with some items. She did it very inconspicuously so no one would see what the contents were. When she was done she folded the top of the bag and walked back over to you. 
   “Here you go darling, everything you asked for including a couple chocolate frogs” she gave you a small wink, making you giggle. She hands you the bag and you turn on your heels to leave the hospital wing and find a bathroom. 
   ♡~🐍~♡
   When you walked into the bathroom you were met with the sound of crying. Shit, this was moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. “W-Who’s there!” the ghost shouted, she flew out the stall and came face to face with you “Oh, Y/n. Hello” she said, her tears coming to a stop. “Hey Myrtle, i just need to change. No peeking please?” you say, giving the ghost girl a pleading look.
   Myrtle nods vigorously “Promise” You nod and give her a smile before walking into on of the stalls. You make sure the doors locked before going through your bag, you grabbed the extra underwear you keep in there, just for emergencies and place it on top of your bag. You remove your robe, placing it gently on the ground and start to tug off your skirt and the shorts you wore underneath. 
   You then take of your underwear and there it was. A blood stain that screamed ‘Fuck you’ sighing you place the dirty underwear on the side on your bag and grabbed the clean ones, you take a pad/tampon from your bag and put it where it needs to be before slipping your underwear on. You dressed yourself again and grabbed a plastic ziplock bag that held your clean underwear and put the dirty ones in there. 
   You heard students in the hallway which meant class ended and it was lunch time. You craved lunch at the moment, so much it made your stomach growl. You stuff your things in your bag and head out the stall “Bye Myrtle!” you said, waving to her. She gave you a smile back and waved as well before heading into her stall.
       ♡~🐍~♡ 
   Walking into the great hall the smell of food made you much hungrier than you were a second ago. Taking a look at the Slytherin table, you saw your boyfriend sitting with his friends, which made you needy all of the sudden. Damn hormones. Walking to the table, Draco spots you and gives you a warm smile and scooched over so you could sit next to him. 
   You sat down and he instantly wrapped an arm around your shoulders. A warm feeling blossomed in your chest as you lean your head on his broad shoulder. Draco smiles and tilts his head to give you a kiss on your hair “Blaise told me you went to the hospital wing, everything okay?” he whispered.
   You wondered how Blaise knew until you remembered he was in your potions class. Duh. “Yeah, just started bleeding” you whispered back, Draco’s face changing to one of confusion before his mind clicked “Oh okay, cramping im guessing?” you nod and as if on cue a pain shot through you, making you whine quietly. 
   Draco gave you a sympathetic look and gives you a light squeeze “Just try and eat love, okay?” he asked. You agreed and sat straight up again. You picked up one of the serving spoons and put mac and cheese on your plate. You were starving, so you put a serving for two people.
   “That’s a lot of food L/n, pigging out much? Oink Oink” you took a deep breath. Pansy fucking Parkinson. You put the serving spoon down and pick up your fork. Just ignore her and it’ll be fine you thought. You take a bite of your mac and cheese “Where did Draco get you? A barn?” she cackled, her friends laughing with her.
   “Pansy shove off before i make you” Draco said through gritted teeth, giving the Slytherin girl a scowl. Pansy scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest “How about fighting your own battles L/n?” she let out a menacing chuckle. You sigh looking up from your plate and at her, with no expression what so over “How ‘bout you suck my fucking dick, Parkinson?”
   Gasps were heard throughout the Slytherin table making Pansy flush red with embarrassment. “Your disgusting!” she shouted making you cringe before storming out the great hall. You shrug and take another bite of your warm food “Merlin Y/n what crawled up your ass?” Blaise laughed into his hand.
   “Your mother” this time it was Draco’s turn to laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Blaise rolled his eyes and went back to his food “Alright love, lets calm down” Draco cooed and kissed your temple.
   ♡~🐍~♡  
   Hand in hand, you and Draco walked into the Slytherin common room. You felt that needy feeling to be all over him again. You just craved his attention, like his constant attention. “Can i lay in your room while you do homework?” You asked in a whiny tone, causing Draco to let out a tiny laugh “Of course, love” he replies and leads you to his dorm. 
   Once you two are in the dorm, you let go of Draco’s hand and walk over to his bed, drop your bag and flop down. You heard Draco laugh behind you “Comfortable?” he asked, making his way to his desk and sit down, placing his bag on the desk as well. You hummed in response as you curled into the silk sheets, closing your eyes as well.
   “I want cuddles” you whine again, Draco smiles lightly and pulls out his textbook “Let me get this done first darling then i’ll give you all of my attention, how does that sound?” You couldn’t see, but he saw your mouth form into a smile. “Okay” you said in a small voice. He nods and turns to start his homework while you laid on his bed.
   ♡~🐍~♡
   It had been 20 minutes and you were getting restless. You sit up from the bed “Can i borrow some of your clothes Draco?” you asked looking at the ceiling. “Yeah sure love” he said quickly and went back to his work, oh right. He was doing homework. You felt bad for interrupting him because you knew how frustrated with work he could get. 
   You frown and decided to no longer bother him. You get up from the bed and walked over to his dresser. You pull out a emerald green sweater and black sweatpants. Since he’s turned around you just change behind him and once you do, you place your clothes on a chair and feel the worst cramp. It almost had you buckled over. 
   You go over to your things and grab the brown paper bag, taking out the medicine. You pop one of the pills, but it was going to take time to kick in. You someone climb onto the bed and pull the sheets over you. The cramps kept hitting you one by one, spreading to your back. You couldn’t help the tears that slipped from your eyes. 
    ♡~🐍~♡
   Draco was finishing up the last line of his work when he heard small small whimpers and whines come from his girlfriend. He turns around to see her curled up in the fetal position. He gets up from his desk and walks over to you “Love are you okay?” he asked, worry lacing his tone. 
   You look up at him and give him a sad smile “Cramps, i already took medicine. I’m waiting for it to kick in. I’m fine, you can go back to your work” You waved your hand, signalling him to walk off. He shakes his head “No, i’m finished anyway. So i can cuddle with you” 
   Draco goes over to his dresser and starts to remove his clothes. You queak, closing your eyes and wait a minute before opening them. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He gives you a smile and lays down behind you, placing an arm around you. “It’ll be okay love, just try to relax till the meds kick in okay?” he whispers, placing a sweet kiss behind you ear. You hum and lean into his touch
   Draco begins to rub circles into your abdomen, the pain begins to die down making you smile “Thank you so much” You say “Don’t be love. I’m your boyfriend and i love you, so of course i’d do this for you.” Draco kisses your head again. You feel yourself become a bit drowsy and yawn quietly, closing your eyes. 
   “I love you too” You mumble as you drift off into a dreamless sleep. Draco following soon after. Maybe this week of bloody hell (get....get it?) wouldn’t be so bad. Especially when Draco was there to hold your hand though it.
   ♡~🐍~♡
   Kody: It’s four am and i should be sleeping, so i wrote this instead. We love insomnia. Anyway, have a lovely day or night. Don’t let the Nargles take your things. Peace.
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inkandpen22 · 3 years
Text
Young Hearts Divided (5/?)
Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader 
Warnings: fluff, underage drinking, mild smut, swearing?
Word Count: 2.7k
Part Summary: it’s a few days after Y/N received her horrible news. Since then, she’s been acting as though everything fine. When Gryffindor wins against Hufflepuff and everyone gathers to celebrate, everything comes to ahead. 
Masterlist
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Growing antsy, I check my watch for the tenth time in the last half hour. Oh good, finally! Sirius is finally out of detention! I scribble down the last bit of my paper and start to pack up my things to leave the library. Lily and Marlene peer up from their work across the table.
“Are you okay?” Marlene breaks the silence.
“Yeah, just peachy!” I press my lips together as I shove my textbook into my bag.
“Y/N, you don’t have to act like you’re okay,” Lily tries to reason with me gently. “You’re dealing with something-”
“Everything is fine, Lil!” I snap.
Lily and Marlene jumps slightly at my sudden rashness. Comprehending what I’ve just done, I take a deep breath and fill with instant regret. It’s not my friends’ fault, I shouldn’t take it out on them.
“I made my decision,” I state calmly. “Now it’s done.”
I start to rise from my seat and place my bag on my shoulder. Checking my watch again, I realize that I actually have a few extra minutes, oh well. I don’t think I can sit here in this silent library for much longer.
“Where are you going?” Marlene questions hesitantly and glances between me and Lily.
“I’m supposed to meet Sirius in the courtyard,” I rush out.
Lily’s face scrunches in confusion. “What about James?”
“What about him? See ya!” I force a smile and head toward the door.
Now I’m certain Lily and Marlene are going to have a field day with worrying about me. 
________________________
Laying in the grass of the courtyard under the tree, Sirius and I just lounge around for most of the afternoon. I rest against the bench and Sirius baths under the sun. He surprised me with blackberries he stole from the kitchens on his way here. I’ve challenged him to catch them in his mouth. Even when he has the advantage of me dropping it directly above his mouth, Sirius doesn’t have the best coordination.
“No, a thousand percent! Heart is much better than The Runaways.” I agree as I drop another blackberry.
Sirius actually catches it, so i playfully applaud him. He pretends to bow, struggling to suppress his laughter. Rolling onto his side to face me, he grabs a handle full of berries from the pile on the towel beside me.
“Do you think you’d ever be in a band like that?” He asks.
I laugh, “could you see me in a rock band?”
“Yeah, sure,” he nods, dead serious.
“What?!” I nudge him on the shoulder. “Are you mad?”
“Mad about you...” He smirks cheekily, meeting my gaze with hooded eyes.
I roll my eyes at his flirtatious innuendo, pressing my lips together to hide my childish grin. I can feel my cheeks getting warm and it’s not from the heat of the sun. With a flick of my wrist, I pick up a berry from the pile and hold it up to his mouth. He glances at it and back at me, anticipating me moving it away. Hesitantly, he leans forward to take the berry in his mouth. His eyes remain locked on mine. Then, I hurry and pop the berry in my mouth with a snicker.
"Oh you're gonna get it now!" Sirius laughs.
He grabs me by the waist and rolls me over so that I'm on his lap. Relentlessly, he starts tickling me, knowing how much I can't stand it. I wiggle in his hold, but I know he's far too strong and I don't stand chance.
“Sirius stop!” I squeal.
“Sorry, can’t hear you!” He mocks playfully.
“Sirius!” I laugh nervously, trying to pry his hands away.
“Not the magic word," Sirius teases in a sing-songy tone. "But by all means keep screaming my name," he purrs.
“I don’t know it!” I plead, struggling to cease my laughter.
“Oh sure you do! Think, Gorgeous, think!” He snickers.
“Padfoot!” I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
“There it is!”
Sirius stops his attack and I relax beside him on the grass. My breathing slowly subsides as I pant. Rather proud of himself, Sirius watches me with a grin.
“You’re the worst!” I giggle, watching the clouds flow by as I catch my breath.
“You say that but you love me,” he winks.
I turn my head to the side and meet his gaze. "Most days," I admit quietly with a giggle.  
His face falls, "you what-”
“Y/N!” James's voice captures my attention.
I sit up to see him jogging over from the quidditch field with a smile.
“There you are, Darling! I’ve been looking for you," he greets warmly once he's closer.
Joining us, he sits on the bench beneath the tree and I crawl across the short distance to sit on the grass by him.  
“I’ve been here," I point out nonchalantly. "How was practice?”
“Decent. I’ve missed you today," he charms, rubbing his hand up and down my back.
“We saw each other this morning,” I snicker.
“Yes, but you were with Lily and Marlene. I hardly got to speak with you," he dramatically pouts like a child who lost his toy.
"That's what meals are for," I lecture.
I crisscross my arms on his leg and rest my chin on them, enjoying this beautiful afternoon. It's honestly the most perfect weather and spending it with my two favorite boys isn't too shabby either.
"I'm going to head out," Sirius announces, already to his feet.
I protest disappointedly, "but-"
"What's up mate?" James beats me to it.
Sirius shrugs, suddenly gloomy. "Nothing, just promised Remus I'd help him with something."
"Alright, see you at dinner then," James nods. "You're going to the game tonight right?"
Sirius mutters an agreement and glances down at me.
"I'll see you Y/N," he mumbles, offering me a weak smile.
I nod, "yeah, yeah most definitely!"
I don't want him to go. We were having so much fun. He turns to walk away and I mood is hindered. One minute we were having a blast, like how we were before... well before everything. Now, I'm just confused.
“Hey," James pulls my focus away from Sirius. "Excited for Hogsmeade next weekend?"
I hum, nodding my head enthusiastically. "It'll be a nice change of pace."
"I had an idea! After the game tonight, let’s go to the Astronomy Tower,” he suggests enthusiastically.
I shake my head, biting my lip to hide my grin. This boy is going to get me in trouble without a doubt.
"But what if we get caught?" I inquire wisely.
“I’ll bring my invisibility cloak,” he concludes without a care in the world.
I hum, thinking it over. If we do end up getting caught, that's my third detention this year. James better bring his cloak if I do agree to it.
“I’ll think about it.” I comply, not fully, but enough to satisfy the boy.
"Perfect," he leans down and plants a kiss to the top of my head.
__________________________________________________________
I do another shot of firewhiskey with Marlene and it hits me instantly, putting me over the edge. Gryffindor won today against Hufflepuff, so everyone's celebrating in the Common Room. The girls and I decided earlier today to dress for the occasion. I bought a new red leather skirt over the summer when Marlene came to visit me. I've yet to wear it and Marlene insisted I pair it with her yellow Gryffindor t-shirt she cut to a crop top.
James bloody brilliant on the field today. Then, Sirius kept making me laugh through the whole game, making sly comments the entire time. I thought Remus was going to bonk him on the head by the end.
Marlene tugs on my sleeve. "Let's dance!"
"And where shall we dance?" I stumble slightly, in my defense the room is a little spinny.
Marlene twirls her head, searching for a proper place.
"The study table!" I announce, right as the idea pops into my head.
"Excellent!" Marlene clasps her hands together and starts dragging me through the packed space.
She weaves between bodies, warning people to move. I laugh, she is by far the most wild girl I have ever had the pleasure of befriending.
"Oh well hello there!"
Someone new grabs my wrist that's free from Marlene and I'm yanked away from her. I land into someone's chest and I'm met with a familiar pair of glasses. He brings his hands around my waist, gliding over my exposed skin between the hem of my skirt and crop top.
"Hello to you too, Potter," I greet, draping my arms over his shoulders.
"And where have you been?" He purrs, leaning in to kiss me I suspect. 
Marlene pops up next to us. "Doing shots with me! Now, if you don't mind-" she takes my arm again "-Y/N here promised me we'd dance!"
"By all means," James hands me over. "I'll find you later," he assures me.
I offer him a wink right as Marlene tugs me away. She locks arms with me as she escorts me over to the table.
"Potter is mushy-gushy into you!" She shouts in my ear over the music.
"He's just a flirt!" I dismiss, not giving it a second thought.
"You're blind!" She teases.
Once we reach the table, I grab a chair and lead to climb onto the top. Heads around us start to turn and people start clapping.
Marlene shifts on her feet, swaying slightly as points to Mary who's in charge of the music across the room. "Mary! You better play Bowie right or I swear I'll make your skin blue for a week!"
Sweet, quiet, friendly Mary raises her hands in surrender and goes to put on Marlene's Bowie record that's always by the player. Marlene jumps up and down, getting herself energized as if she's about to perform at Wembley. The familiar sound of the album Marlene had me listen to the other night starts to echo through the Common Room.
"Yes! I love this song!" Marlene takes my hands and starts dancing with me.
We sway to the music and jump about the beat. I can't help but laugh at Marlene drunken dancing, it's just a mess. She raises our hands and waves for me to spin. My eyes fall shut as I twirl about the table top. I return the favor and she spins, nearly falling over. We burst out laughing, goodness this is just awful!
She pulls me closer to shout in my ear, "Potter can't take his eyes off you!"
I search the crowd of students decked out in their gold and red. Sure enough, I spot James leaning against the back of the couch speaking with Remus. He meets my gaze, a smile on his face as he mutter something to his friend.
"He's probably just wondering what the hell our dancing is!" I laugh.
"Then show him what you can really do," she urges with a mischievous grin.
I roll eyes and nudge her playfully, "no way!"
"Oh stop it! You know you can, I know you can, so do it," she encourages.
Marlene already starts climbing down from the table before I can argue otherwise. I glance around the room nervously for a second. Now standing at my feet, she waves for me to go on. A familiar rock song starts playing and I grin, I can work with this. Swaying my hips to the beat, I get in the groove of things. Marlene starts cheering and heads start turning. More cheering ensues as people start realizing what's going on. The attention encourages me to go on, I thrive off of it. If it weren't for the firewhiskey, I would never have the guts to do this. I slowly lower myself into a squat and roll back up flirtatiously, that earns a round of applause and cheering. I shake my bum playfully and send the crowd a wink.
A hand around my wrist yanks me down and Sirius stares at me furiously. He pulls me toward him and I'm flung over his shoulder. His arms keep me balanced as I hang upside toward his back. I swing as he marches through the crowd of riled Gryffindors toward the entry way.
"Sirius! Sirius let me down!" I swat at the back of his legs.
The raven-haired boy ignores my refusal and carries me out into the abandoned stairwell.
The Fat Lady gasps. "What on Earth are you doing boy?"
He ignores her as well, marching down the stairs to who knows where.
"Okay Sirius, I'm a grown person I can walk!" I whine.
"Then stop acting like a child," he snaps back.
"Me! You're the one who's been pouting around like a baby the past week!"
Despite my insult, he just keeps going like a bloody robot, march, march, march away! I press on his back to sit up right and peer over his shoulder to see where we're going.
“You can’t just carry people like a sack of flour!” I growl.
“You can when they’re acting insane!” He yells
I smack his back. “I’m not crazy! Take that back!”
His head whips around and he glares down at me. “No, you’re just an indecisive tease who doesn’t know what she wants!”
“Me the tease?!" I laugh. "You’re the biggest man whore whoever walked these halls!”
Abruptly, Sirius makes a sharp right into an alcove with a crumbled old stairwell and greenery growing in its cracks. He sets me down on my feet with a thud. I stumble for a second, but catch my footing.
“At least when I pick a girl I’m with only her! You’re switching back and forth between me and James like you’re the quaffle in a quidditch match! Pick a team Y/N!” He fires at me.
My head shifts forward in disgust. "What's that supposed to mean?!"
He scoffs, glaring up at me as though I'm lying. "Just quit it, you know exactly what it means!"
I shake my head, dismissing his digs. "You're drunk," I reason in a hiss.
He narrows his eyes at me sharply. "What if I am? So are you, Love, but I'm not the one making a fool of myself."
"I'm making a fool of myself, so what?! I don't care anymore!" I scream at him. “Why do you care?!”
His eyes grow wide. “Are you fucking serious?!” He laughs breathlessly.
“No, you-”
In a swift motion, Sirius pins me against the wall and presses his finger to my lips. “Don’t you dare bloody say it!”
I swallow my tongue, remaining still as Sirius keeps me pinned hard against the wall. His torso presses into me and he keeps his finger over my lips. The silence is consumed by nothing else than Sirius and I catching our breath quietly. I bury my eyes into his with a deep agitation. He's the most aggravating boy I've ever met in my entire life. His sharp stare could cut me clean if I weren't immune to it. Then, to my surprise, his face softens and his hand glides to my cheek. My heart starts to race, it was before, but this time it's more life an adrenaline rush.
"Did you mean it?" He whispers.
I swallow hard, "mean what?"
"When... when you said you love most days?" He stammers nervously.
Oh. I said that randomly, without much thought. I mean, we were kidding around. We was flirting so I tossed it right back to him, it’s what we do. I didn't think... I didn't know that he would...
"I mean if you didn't-" he rushes out, avoiding my gaze, "-it's fine! I'd understand, I was-"
As he stumbles over his words uncharacteristically and I see his nervousness consume him, it hits me like a ton of brick. I did mean it, every word. 
"Yes," I answer in a mutter, afraid my voice will give out on me.
His eyes meet mine frantically. "Wait what?!"
"Yes," I repeat, licking my lips anxiously. "I meant it..."
I feel as though my heart is in my throat and I find it hard to breathe. My eyes fall to Sirius's parted lips. I'm not familiar with this feeling, this urge. My eyes flicker up to meet his as his thumb brushes across my cheek. His dark alluring gaze pours into me like a starless night sky. Then, they glance down at my lips and Sirius shifts closer to me, if that's even physically possible. He leans in and hesitantly hovers mere centimeters from me. Acting on impulse, I finish the distance and press my lips to his. The sensation is unparalleled in this world. Sirius holds both sides of my face, deepening the kiss. I drape my arms over his shoulders and comb my fingers through his shoulder length locks. It feel so right and natural, as if we've been doing it our whole life. They just... Sirius and I fit together. He's like a guiding star in a world of darkness and I cling to him for life.
______________________________
Masterlist
Tags:  @hannah220506 @agirlwholovescoffee @a-classic-eye @devilstradegy @blackbirddaredevil23 @tay-mariee @blackpinkdolan @findzelda
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songsformonkeys · 3 years
Text
Bullet wounds & Bandages (dave york x reader)
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Pairing: Dave York x reader
Summary: Dave shows up outside your door one evening, hurt and bleeding. You help patch him up.
Rating: Pretty safe. Some mentions of injuries but nothing worse.
Warnings: None
Notes: Written for @yespolkadotkitty​ who made the request below. She offered to beta too but it seems I have zero patience tonight so I’m posting anyway (sorry, bby, I love you <3). So the inevitable mistakes are all my own. You have been warned.
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Bullet wounds and Bandages
It's just after eleven on a Sunday night when there's a knock on your door. You're already in your pajamas, curled up in front of the TV with a mug of tea and you eye the door suspiciously, wondering who would be coming for a visit at this hour.
Setting the mug down on the coffee table, you pad over to the door on bare feet. The floor feels cold in comparison to where they had just been wrapped up in a soft blanket.
When you look through the peep-hole in the door, your first instinct is to scream. Outside of your door, in the half-dark of the corridor, stands a man whose face is mostly covered in blood. Your heart feels like it's stopped mid-beat and your mind flashes back to The Shining, that you had stupidly watched on TV last night. Was this man gonna break in? And where was your phone?!
You're pulled from your thoughts when the man outside speaks. He says your name, closely followed by ”Please” and you know that voice. He shifts and as the light from the overhead lightbulb hits his face in a different way, you recognize his face too. It's Molly's dad. You've been Molly's tutor for little over a year now and while you've talked to her dad quite a lot and have even been asked to stay for dinner a few times, there's nothing in your relationship that warrants showing up at the others doorstep, looking like you'd been run over by a car. Yet here he is.
It takes you a moment to get your body working to pull the door open.
”Mr. York!” you exclaim as he almost topples over the threshold. You catch him and as your hand lands on his upper arm, it's wet with something warm and sticky. You don't need to be a genius to figure out what. The coppery smell in the air is strong enough that you can almost taste it.
You kick the door shut and lock it before hurriedly guiding Dave into the kitchen. He drags his feet and looks like he's one nudge away from falling over. You manage to get him seated on one of your kitchen chairs and in the brighter light of your kitchen, you can more clearly assess the damage. Dave has a split eyebrow, which seems to be the cause of the red mask on his face, and blood is dripping down his left arm and onto your floor. His shirt is horizontally split open and there's a long, slightly curved wound across his chest, like a fleshy grin.
”Mr. York, stay here! I'm gonna call an ambulance!” you tell him but before you have a chance to move, his right hand captures yours, pulling your attention back to his face.
”No ambulance,” he croaks and you give him a disbelieving look. Is he currently aware of the horrific picture he's currently making? ”I just need you.”
For the briefest of moments, your body has a wildly inappropriate reaction to those words and something flutters to life low in your gut, but then you have to laugh.
”Dave,” you say, switching to the more informal way of addressing him in hopes of establishing some sort of authority here. ”You're hurt. You need medical attention.”
”And you're a nurse,” Dave reasons.
”I'm a nursing student!” you protest, the pitch of your voice rising just a little.
”You graduate in three months. You'll do fine. Just follow my instructions and I'll tell you what to do. I promise I'm not dying. I just need you to be my hands.”
”I...” You glance back towards the living room, where you're pretty sure your phone is somewhere on the couch. Dave sees you looking.
”No ambulance,” he grounds out and there's a clear tone of annoyance in his voice now. It leaves no room for further argument and there's something about the way he says the words that makes you think he would physically stop you if you attempted to get to the phone now. You sigh and Dave's shoulders relax as he recognizes your defeat.
”I have a medkit in my jacket,” he tells you and jerks his head towards his left side pocket. You fish it out and inspect its contents. It's quite an impressive kit and you wonder what a man like Dave needs a kit like this for? You thought he had an office job - something with the police but an office job nonetheless. Or maybe it was just the tailored suits he always wore that had tricked you.
Dave guides you through what needs to be done. You help him out of his jacket but are forced to cut him out of his t-shirt. It's already torn and he assures you that it's no greater loss. His torso is smeared red with blood and you grab a clean kitchen towel, wetting it under the kitchen tap, before carefully cleaning away the worst of the blood to be able to better assess the damage. The slash across his chest isn't very deep and you think you'll be able to get away with taping it shut. The arm worries you more. There's a small, circular wound that's still bleeding sluggishly. Your eyes widen with realization and you look up at Dave's face.
”You have been shot,” you tell him. It's not a question. Dave nods and places his big hand over yours, where it's resting on his left forearm. It's only then that you realize that your own hand is shaking.
”I have. But don't worry about that now.” Don't worry about that now?! You have half a mind to slap some sense into him with the bloody towel. Gunshots were definitely something to worry about, in your professional opinion.
”What happened?” you can't help but ask, because curiosity gets the better of you and you can't imagine a scenario where Dave York would get shot.
”Work stuff,” he tells you, ”I'm sorry, Sweetheart, but I can't go into more details than that, right now.”
The affectionate nickname is just enough to distract you from further inquiries and Dave takes that opportunity to continue.
”I'm gonna need you to fish the bullet out and sew the wound shut. There's a pair of surgical pliers in the kit as well as needle and thread.” He speaks way more calmly than anyone with a bullet inside them has any right to. Like you're the patient that needs soothing here. It feels a little embarrassing and so you steel yourself and try to distract yourself from the circumstances of this medical exercise and just focus on getting the bullet out. It works.
Dave sits patiently through your ministrations but the strained breathing gives away that he's not as unaffected as he looks. You apologize for the pain, even though it's not your fault. There's nothing you have at home that could lessen it right now. Not unless he drinks himself unconscious and if he did, that might come with additional problematic side effects.
”Are the girls at home?” you ask, trying to distract him, as you sew the bullet wound shut, ”Because if they are, we need to call someone. Even if you don't want anyone else involved, you have to do that. I'll sew you to the chair if I have too! But you can't leave them alone, Dave.”
Dave looks up, something curious in his eyes. Then he shakes his head.
”They're at Carol's place this week.”
”Good.” You place the last stitch on his arm and move to tape the wounds on his chest and eyebrow shut. Dave closes his eyes as you gently wipe a clean corner of the towel over his face, cleaning the blood from the crow's feet around his eyes, the beautiful curve of his nose, his smooth cheek and the corner of his lips. He opens his eyes when your thumb lingers just a little too long on his soft bottom lip – the fabric of the towel, the only thing preventing a kiss. You pull away and turn to rinse the towel off in the sink before he can see more in your gaze than you would like. Have you had a crush on Dave for the better part of the year that you had been working there? Yes, but that is besides the point and more importantly, hardly the reason Dave has come over tonight.
”You can use the bathroom to clean off the rest of the blood, if you like. I'm gonna clean up here.”
You don't turn but you hear Dave get up from the chair with a pained groan before slowly shuffling off towards the bathroom.
You clean up the kitchen and hallway as best you can but the smell of blood still lingers and you know you'll have to go over it again and do it even more properly tomorrow. But right now, you're a little too jittery for mopping the floors.
Looking down, you realize that you've got some of Dave's blood on your pajamas and also that you've stepped in it and are leaving footprints where you walk. You clean off your feet and quickly disappear into your bedroom to change into a clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before Dave is done in the bathroom.
When he emerges from the bathroom, still half-dressed and shirtless but a lot cleaner than before, the two of you stand awkwardly on opposite sides of the living room for a few seconds before Dave breaks the silence.
”Do you think...maybe I could stay for the night?”
”Oh thank heavens! I was worried I was gonna have to argue with you about that too,” you say with a relieved sigh. That makes Dave smile faintly.
”Thank you.”
Dave does argue a bit, however, when you tell him to sleep in the bed while you take the couch. But you make a convincing case explaining to him how the wound on his chest is going to have a much harder time to seal up properly if he sleeps cramped up on the couch, and Dave eventually gives in. He wishes you a good night, casual in a way that you might be with someone you'd just had a drink with, not someone who'd just been inside your arm with pliers, fishing out a bullet. Then he disappears into the bedroom.
You go to your hallway closet to fetch an extra set of bed sheets. You're not sure if Dave minds sleeping in your sheets but you at least want to be a good host and offer an alternative.
When you get back to your bedroom, you hear Dave cursing under his breath and find him struggling to open the buttons of his pants with one hand. The other hand hangs limp and bandaged at his side.
”Oh, you need help?” The words are out before you have fully processed just what it is you're offering and Dave replies before you have time to take the offer back.
”Please,” he says and hangs his head in defeat. Too late to take anything back now.
You set the sheets down on the edge of the bed before walking over to him, feeling your chest restricting your breathing as you get closer.
You stand in front of him and Dave meets your gaze before you look down.
”Buttons,” you say stupidly, ”Trickier.”
Dave huffs out a laugh and you feel the soft gush of air against your face. His breath smells faintly of mint, like he's been chewing gum earlier. Before you can completely chicken out, you reach for the hem of his pants, picking at the fabric to help him unbutton his pants. You go slow, trying to touch as little as possible of him, but the fabric of his jeans is stiff, making it more difficult to get the buttons free. You can see why he couldn't manage on his own. On the second button, your fingers slip and your knuckles accidentally brush over the bulge of Dave's cock. He jumps slightly and his breath stutters. You apologize instinctively, as if you've hurt him. Dave doesn't respond and as you quickly move onto the next button, you no longer feel the huffs of warm air on your face so you're not sure Dave's even breathing anymore.
When the last of the button has been popped free, you take a step back. Dave's working hand twitches as if he's about to reach for you but then stops himself.
”There. You think you can manage the rest on your own?” There's a pleading note to your voice. If Dave asks for any further help undressing, you don't think you'll be able to survive with your dignity intact. Dave hears the plea too and he nods.
”Yes. Thank you. Again.”
You smile and give him an awkward little wave before fleeing out of the bedroom.
As you stretch out on the couch a few minutes later, you try very hard not to think about Dave's reaction to the brush of knuckles and the fact that he's currently almost naked in your bed.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, you wake up before Dave does. Your couch is comfortable enough but it's not ideal for lie-ins. So you get up and start the coffee-maker. Then you wait for Dave to emerge from the den. But he doesn't.
In his defense, you hadn't told him to set an alarm but, for you, the daylight had also come with the realization that you have a lecture today that you can't miss. A lecture that would start in about an hour. If you wanted to make it on time, you would have to leave soon.
You walk over to the bedroom and knock softly on the doorframe. There's no response and suddenly you worry that Dave might have gotten worse during the night. Maybe there had been an injury that you had missed?
Carefully, you push the door open and look inside. Dave is stretched out on his back on your bed, his injured left arm laying along his side while the right one is resting on the pillow above his head. You follow the line of his right arm, along his bicep and the dark patch of hair in his armpit, down to his chest. Most of it is covered by the sheets and you can only just see the white bandage peeking out. There's a foot sticking out at the bottom of the blankets and you don't know why the sight looks so endearing to you.
Dave looks relaxed but he doesn't stir as you move into the room and you want to make sure he's really okay and that he hasn't bled through his bandages.
The one on his arm looks okay when you lean in to inspect it. The one on his chest, you can't properly see, so you reach out to lift the blanket just a fraction, without disturbing him. However, when you do, Dave's right hand shoots out like a cobra and grips your hand like a vice. It hurts and you gasp out an ”I'm sorry!”
Dave immediately loosens his grip when he realizes it's you, but he doesn't quite let go.
”Is everything okay?” he asks, voice a little rough with sleep.
”Yes. I'm sorry. I was just gonna check you hadn't bled through. I didn't want to wake you,” you explain. Dave only nods and pulls the blanket down for you to check.
”Help yourself,” he says with a soft smile and you wonder, is he even hearing himself?!
The wound on the chest seems to be in okay order as well. You tell Dave as much and also inform him about your lecture. You tell him that he can stay until you get back, if he still doesn't want to go to the doctor. Dave accepts the offer of staying and you're part annoyed and part hopeful by that response.
When you move to back away, he captures your hand again, and holds it flat against his diaphragm. You can feel him breathing under your palm and your fingers twitch with the urge to touch more of him.
”Thank you,” he says solemnly, holding your gaze with his.
”You're welcome,” you say, forcing yourself to pull your hand free from his loose hold. ”I'll see you when I get back.”
”I'll be here.” It feels both like a promise and a threat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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164 notes · View notes
mr-walkingrainbow · 3 years
Note
imma slide in your asks, i would like limited mobility for abimel :)
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Wanna watch something?”
“No.”
“A board game?”
“WHO in their right mind VOLUNTARILY plays board games?!”
Abigael sighed, although annoying, her girlfriend had a point.
However, their wasn’t much she could offer currently to to Mels situation.
To be frank, somehow a trip to the doctor to get Maggie’s flu shot ended up with Mel having a broken ankle.
Apparently, when confronted with needles, shorty spice either feinted like a sack of potatoes, or transformed into a higher being of savagery and desperation.
Macy had informed her that this time it had been both.
She wasn’t even going to ask how that was physically possible.
Unfortunately, Mel now was on strict bed rest, and her normal ADHD tunnel vision girlfriend, was ridden to a grumpy miserable couch potato.
“Come on,” Abby cajoled in her British accent, “I bet theirs something we can do to make you feel better?”
Mel got a sneaky look in her eyes, hand snaking up Abbys head and giving a quick teasing tug to her locks.
Bloody hell.
Abigael bit her lip, hand grasping Mels remaining one violently. Ignoring the near desperate urge to moan and fall into her girlfriends wonderful arms, she took a long shuddering breath.
“N-no Melanie. N-not that. You can’t do anything involving much movement besides go to the loo.”
Mels smile immediately turned to a scowl once again, which gave Abby the time to regroup. Hand fluttering upwards to touch the area she had tugged.
Damn Melanie and her knowledge of her weakest points. It made scenarios like this exceptionally hard.
“Besides that, what else can you think of that would lift your spirits?”
“I don’t know!” The Latina crankily exclaimed, “You tell me! Your my girlfriend you should know these things!”
Abby raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, “Now I will excuse that comment because your grumpy and your in pain. But if your going to be a grump about it, I will quickly just as leave.”
Mel relaxed slightly, frowing, “Sorry Cariño, I’m just so miserable!”
“I understand the feeling love,” she smiled soothingly, “But we’ll figure something out!”
She took a scrutinizing eye to the witch, studying her every move. Mel was obviously more clingy then usual, never letting go of Abigaels hand once while she sat perched on the edge of the couch.
It gave her an idea.
“I know how to turn that frown upside down!”
The laters eyebrows furrowed, “How?”
“AGQS!”
“Scuzi?”
Abby laughed slightly at her girlfriends shortened version of ‘excuse me’,
“AGQS, aka A good quality snuggle! Theirs nothing like it! A real mood changer.”
Mel seemed to ponder this, “Well Im not saying no?”
“Snuggles it is!”
She then proceeded to wedge herself in the space between Mel and the couch, being extra careful not to jostle the injured ankle in the process.
“Their!” She cooed softly, her head resting on the laters shoulder, “Do you feel a bit better now?”
Mel sighed contently, “Ai! Mi querida, you always know how to make me feel better.”
“Good! Now, we can find some Halloween movies on the box because Halloween movies are superior to anything.”
The Latina smiled, soon breaking into a frown and wailing.
“B-but were out of popcornnnnn!”
Deary me, Abigael might have misjudged how emotional Mel currently was.
“Don’t worry Atlantis, I’ll get you some popcorn.” She assured.
The fat tears soon rolled down the lesbians face, something Abby had assumed would happen eventually. Whenever her girlfriend was sick or hurt, her emotions would go all over the place and all rational thinking was out the door. And that would lead to tears of hysteria.
Something Abby was still struggling to figure out.
“What is it?” She questioned worriedly, “What’s wrong? Does your ankle hurt? Do you need more painkillers? Are you hungry? What’s wrong Melanie?!”
“I-I don’t w-want you to Le-eave!” Mel cried, arms flailing uselessly.
“Hey, hey! It’s ok,” Abigael placated, it was both endearing and grating how unpredictable Mel became when hurt, “I won’t leave ok? I’ll stay right here.”
The Latina looked at her with glassy eyes, “B-but who will get the popcorn?”
GRAGGH! Abby fought the urge to scream, instead taking a deep breath and returning the gaze with love and care.
“I’ll ring up Jordy. He’d gladly do anything for you Mel.”
“You too!” Her girlfriend exclaimed.
“Huh?”
The witch looked at her sadly, “He’d do it for you too!”
“That’s lovely of you to say,” Abby grinned fondly, “But Jordy doesn’t hold me to that standard”.
To her chagrin, the laters eyes filled up with even more tears, prompt bursting into loud sobs.
“Oh god! Mel what is it?”
She sat up in a panic, checking Mels ankle to see if it had shifted any way. To her knowledge everything looked the same.
She looked back at her girlfriend desperately, “Mel I don’t know why your so upset? Please tell me?”
“B-because y-you don’t t-think your good en-nough for f-friendship!” Mel choked out between sobs.
“What?! Why would you think that?”
“Because y-you don’t think j-jordys your friend!”
“Ugh! Fine! Bloody hell Mel, me and Jordy are the bestest besties in all the besties in the world? Satisfied?!”
Her girlfriend flashed her a teary smile, “Very.”
With another groan and something muttered under her breath, Abigael rang up her ‘Bestie’ saying it was a popcorn emergency and if Jordan didn’t get their in the next five minutes, he was gonna have two angry witch’s at his door.
“Hey, Abby?” Jordan’s voice crackled through the phone.
She paused, unsure of wether to answer.
“I just wanted to say it’s good to hear from you.” He stated, “We should meet up sometime, and try and get through an actual convo without any of us getting into some Magical based trouble.”
“I’d like that.” The hybrid answered softly. Immediately shutting off her phone afterwards.
It was hard for her to let her walls down, to allow people inside. To even consider the possibility that someone cared for her.
But aside from Melanie, Jordy had been that one other person who’d managed to evade all her carefully laid traps and walls.
So she guess, in this case, she at least owed him a friendly conversation.
Her attention turned back to her already wailing girlfriend, who was literally clawing at her clothes to get her back on the couch with her.
“Alright already, geez,” she cursed silently, “Watch the clothes Melanie. You know I’d be livid if you ripped anything.”
The clawing stopped, but the Latina got a cheesy smile on her face.
“Nooo you won’t!”
Abby blushed, eyebrows crinkling, “Whatever do you mean?”
“You loooove me,” the lesbian cheered, “You loooove me and caaaare for me and wanna kiiiiss me and-“
-“God your childish when your in pain!”
Mel pouted slightly, sticking her lower lip out.
Bloody hell.
Mel knows she can’t say no to her puppy dog eyes.
Abigael rolled her eyes fondly, head coming to a rest back on Mels chest.
“Oh all right. I love you. But if you tell anyone I’ll roast your head on a spit. I have a reputation to uphold.”
The witch grinned like a maniac, “Your secrets safe with me.”
27 notes · View notes
peterspideyy · 3 years
Text
chapter 1 | safe
series masterlist
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————
newt sat up, inhaling as much air as he could manage, as his eyes shot open. he felt a pain soar through his body, causing him to groan at the feeling. his ears rang with each heavy beat of his heart, as he allowed himself to look around and gather his bearings.
he was in a hut of some sort. it was old and basic. an oak table, with two chairs tucked underneath it. dusty windows, causing newt to hardly see anything out of it. a vase on the window sill, with dead flowers in it. there’s a cupboard above a sink in the corner, with the door broken off the hinges, causing newt just to see half of a blue box, with the letters ‘cd’ on it. wooden walls decaying surrounded him, with parts of it broken, allowing newt just the chance to see through the tiny cracks.
he saw the scorch. he could recognise that dreadful sand from a mile away. he still remembers that walk to the right arm, like the back of his hand. and how thomas said-
newt gasped.
thomas. minho. gally. frypan.
where was his friends?
and then, all the memories of that night came back.
he was dead. a knife was plunged in his chest. he still remembers the excruciating pain he felt, yet he still smiled at his tommy, before all the life was drained out of him. they must of left him to burn as the last city crumbled down. he doesn’t feel angry at them, for leaving him. he would of done the same. it would of been extra baggage.
but, if he was dead, then why is he alive? he can see the room he is in. he can hear the distant winds of the scorch. he can feel the hard floor beneath him. he wouldn’t of been able to do that, if he was bloody dead.
newt looked down, brining his hands up into his vision. as well as noticing how clean they were, the veins were gone. he scrambled his t-shirt sleeve up, to see his infected scar- gone. it was like it never existed in the first place.
“what the...” newt thought to himself, looking at his other arm, remembering the dark veins covering it, but instead saw his own skin starring back at him.
what happened to him?
suddenly, the front door slammed open, causing the british boy to jump to his feet, but he instantly regretted that thanks to the thumping pain in his brain, as all the blood rushed to his head. but, he stopped wincing, as a figure walked into the hut.
newt immediately noticed the rifle, leaning on there left shoulder. the person stood still, just starring at the quivering boy, before walking into the light. the woman was a bit taller than newt but looked around the same age as him, with dark brown hair, tied messily into a pony tail. some strands still fell in front of her face though, hiding her hazel eyes and blank expression. but, she suddenly chuckled slightly, walking to the table, throwing the gun on top of it, causing a loud bang that made newt flinch.
“thought you would never wake up.” she spoke, still not turning to face newt, as she placed a bullet onto the side. her voice was petite, that surprised newt a lot.
“well,” newt coughed, clearing his through, “well, i-i have now.”
she turned to face him, “no shit.”
newt gulped.
“got a name?” she inquired.
“newt.”
she raised her eyebrows, “newt?”
he nodded.
after a couple minutes of silence passed, and as newt watched the woman put the rifle away, he cleared his through again.
“what‘s...your name?”
“doesn’t matter,” she walked towards him, “what matters is that you get out of my house.”
“what?”
“you heard me.” she sighed, walking away to open the door, gesturing for him to walk through it.
newt couldn’t leave now. he needed answers.
“no, i’m not going.”
“what?!” she shouted, eyes wide.
“the last thing i remember, is me dying. and now i’m alive? it’s not everyday that you die and come bloody back to life?!”
the woman froze, taking in his words.
“so, you either tell me why i’m alive or i’m not leaving.”
————
thomas shot up, breathing out heavily, sweat dripping off his forehead as his eyes shot open. tears fell down his cheek, at the nightmare he just visualised. well, it wasn’t a nightmare. he actually watched his best friend die in his arms.
he chocked back a sob, as it hit in, nearly knocking him unconscious.
newt’s dead. and it’s all his fault.
if only he fought harder for newt to stay with gally and wait for the serum, instead of listening to his ‘you can’t do it on your own.’ if only he didn’t get distracted for wanting to kill ava paige, he could of instead focused of saving newt and minho. if only-
“hey, thomas.”
he looked up to see minho, stood in the doorway of the tent. he smiled, but it never met his eyes. thomas returned to gesture back slightly, as they both silently mourned there friend. guilt still eats away at thomas. he caused minho to loose the only person he trusts and cares about, since the maze.
“hey, minho. what’s up?” thomas asked, standing up out of his bed, rubbing his eyes.
minho stood silently, watching his actions, noticing the dark bags underneath his eyes, “just letting you know that frypan has cooked breakfast.”
“oh, erm...i’ll be right out.” thomas mumbled.
“okay.” minho nodded, but neither of them moved.
“are you okay?”
minho’s question caused thomas’ heart to pang in pain, as his breaths got caught up in his throat. tears welled up in his eyes at the most simple question in the world. how could he be okay, after loosing the one thing that meant so much to him?
“yeah, i’m fine.” he lied, while minho raised his eyebrows, not fully convinced.
“well, hurry up...bet you’re starving.”
thomas laughed slightly, as minho chuckled too, before walking away to the other gladers. and as soon as minho walked away, thomas buried his head into his hands, as a heavy cry racketed out of his body, causing him to completely break down into sobs.
————
“tell me everything.” newt demanded, as the woman gave him a glass of water, as they both sat across from each other, on the wonky oak table.
she sighed, sipping her drink, before starting.
“the whole city was burning down, because-“
“of the people outside the walls.”
she stopped, “yeah, don’t interrupt me though.”
“sorry.”
“anyway, me and a couple of my friends were running to safety, and then...i saw you, on the floor. dead.”
“wait! stop!” she screamed to her friends, over the loud sounds of gunshots and explosions.
“that’s a-a person.” she shouted, running over to the figure on the ground.
she didn’t bother to see if her friends followed her or not, to bothered at the man with a knife plunged in his chest. she didn’t know him. she’s never seen him in his life. but, a sudden feeling of sorrow overcome her body, causing her to kneel down beside him.
“he’s not worth it.” her friend breathed out, standing just behind her.
“everyone is worth it.”
she heard a sigh, “he’s a crank. he’s far to gone. and we won’t be much better if we stay here, mourning over someone we barely know!”
she shook her head, placing her fingers on his cold neck to try and find a pulse. but failed.
“you’re not a doctor anymore. you can’t save everyone. so let’s go!” her friend shouted, turning to run away.
but, she didn’t follow, still starring at the lifeless eyes of the young boy.
“he probably deserved the world.” she thought, still hoping to feel a pulse. but, it never happened.
breathing out heavily, she was going to stand up, and follow her friends, but froze as she felt a small vibration in her finger. she starred at the boy, who wasn’t moving as the vibrations increased. it was a heartbeat.
“oh my god!” she whispered.
he was alive. but, only just.
and then the boy’s body stirred, as a small groan left his cracked lips. she kneeled beside him, eyes wide at the sight of a person literally coming back from the dead. she’s never seen this happen. never the less with a crank.
“hello? can you hear me?” she asked, hoping the boy would reply. praying he would. even just a little ‘yes.’
and he did. but, he replied with something she would never expect.
with a small hoarse voice he whispered, ‘tommy.’
and passed out again.
————
thomas eventually left his tent, after double checking all signs of him crying were not visible, he followed the smells of frypans cooking. he smiled at people he passed, not knowing half of them, but still felt responsible to do so. he was responsible for everyone’s freedom.
then how come he couldn’t save newt?
walking to the kitchen, he smiled as frypan already handed him a plate of food, that made his mouth water.
he’s not surprised at how hungry he is. he hasn’t eaten in days.
“thanks fry.” he mumbled, while the cook nodded at him sadly.
thomas walked away from the kitchen, walking past his group of friends by the bonfire, to sit on the ground infront of the stone. sitting down, he starred up at the stone glancing at names carved into it. he looked at names he didn’t know, but still felt remorse for them. but, then he saw names he did know.
and it hurt.
chuck. little chuck didn’t deserve to go. they finally escaped the maze. but, he’s not here anymore. he made a promise to chuck. and he broke it.
alby. god. out of everyone from the maze, he was one of the people who truely deserved to be free. he was the first one up after all. and thomas failed him.
winston. he tried to take care of his friends like he promised him in the scorch. he still remembers the sound of the gunshot engulfing him as they walked away from their dying friend.
teresa. he knows what she was trying to do. she was trying to help. she thought she was helping. he never loved teresa. sure they kissed before she fell to her death, but he never loved her.
and then his eyes landed on newt’s.
thomas couldn’t bare to look at his name anymore, as tears blocked his vision.
————
newt looked through one of the the gaps in the wall, after the woman stopped talking a couple of minutes ago. to say he was confused was an understatement. he coughed, glancing at her who was leaning back in her chair, already starring at him.
“how did you save me then? theres no cure.”
“i know,” the girl nodded, “b-but, somehow the knife missed your heart. and as i removed it when you were unconscious, there was someone else’s blood on it? i think that blood saved you. and i’m a doctor, i have erm...resources that can help you.”
“who’s blood was it?”
“i’m not sure.” she looked away, almost seeming nervous suddenly, “but, it seems like whoever’s blood that was, was already on the knife before it-“
“was stabbed into me?” newt finished.
the woman nodded, “yeah.”
and then it hit newt. just out the blue. he remembered.
“i know who’s blood it is.”
she turned to face him, “who?”
“it’s thomas’ blood.” he cringed.
newt remembers when he pierced his skin, just slightly. but, even though he had no control over his actions, he still remembers the amount of guilt he felt as he heard thomas’ pained screams fall from his lips.
he wish thomas never saw him like that. so animalistic and aggressive.
“oh, the person you say in your sleep. what is he your boyfriend or something?”
newt chocked on his water, “what?!”
“you heard me,” she winked, laughing at the stuttering mess infront of her, “well, it seems like your boyfriend is the cure. do you know where he is?”
newt tried not to blush at the word ‘boyfriend’ before replying.
“unless he’s dead, then he’ll be at the safe haven.”
dead? if tommy is dead then...
no, he can’t be dead. h-he shouldn’t think of the worse.
he has to be alive.
“the safe haven?”
“yeah, it’s where everyone goes when they want to be free of wckd and cranks and-“
“i know what it is,” she cut off, standing up with a wide smile of her face, “i’ve been trying to find that for years. i didn’t think it was real!”
“i haven’t been but...i-i assume it’s real. why are you laughing so much?” newt questioned, gesturing the woman laughing her head off that was once harsh to him.
“because newt, we’re going.”
“g-going where?”
“the safe haven you div!” she shouted, clapping her hands together.
“i don’t even know where it is! all i know is that it’s on a beach! do you realise how many beaches there are in the world?! and beside i hardly know anything about you-“
“my name’s kira. and that’s all you need to know about me.” she mumbled, causing newt to gulp.
“o-okay kira, well i have no bloody idea on how to get to it anyway!”
“that’s why we’ll go together.”
newt sighed. he did want to find the safe haven, and be reunited with his friends. he misses them all so much. and it pains him to think that they all believe he’s dead, when he isn’t.
but, he has no idea where it is. for all he knows, the safe haven could of moved away from a beach. like into the mountains. or into a city. newt and kira could just be going on a wild goose chase.
“don’t you want to see all the people you know? like your boyfriend.” she teased, causing newt to roll his eyes.
“he’s not my boyfriend. he’s just a close friend.” he snapped.
kira sat down again, her smile falling into an expression of seriousness.
“newt, you have a second chance of living. if i never found you, you would be dead right now. so, take this opportunity and come with me to find the safe haven. and live the life you are supposed to have. the life what your friends would want you to have.”
newt sat still, taking in her words. she was true. harsh, but true. he does have a second chance of living. and he shouldn’t waste it on thinking of the worse possible scenarios.
“okay.”
“wait really?!”
“yes,” he looked up, smiling, as he was suddenly overcome with a feeling of urgency.
“let’s go and find the safe haven, kira.”
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a/n- thank you for reading chapter 1! it’s quite short, but hopefully as the story goes on the chapters will be longer :)
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taglist-
@parkersbliss @liberty-barnes @harry-hollands @lookatallthosefandoms @venjicuddles @a-sarcastic-lil-shit @insonianna
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detectiveidiotboy · 3 years
Text
His Time In The Commonwealth IV: Danse
so as my beloved fanfiction, The Black Widow’s Waltz, comes to an end, i’ve decided that i am going to re-release the backstory chapters as their own stand-alone fic, since they read well as their own story. before that, i thought i might do a fun little thing where i release each of the companions backstories as their own post here on tumblr under the tag #his time in the commonwealth.
i had to take a break from posting for mental health and to deal with some things in my home life, but i'm back now! and with me comes the continuation of this mini-series. now, on to part 4!!! Danse's story.
The walk from Listening Post Bravo to Nordhagen Beach took three days. Had Danse been in top shape and traveling in his power armor, he was certain he could have made the trip in less than two, but speed wasn’t a priority in this mission; this was a pilgrimage.
It had been twelve weeks since his banishment, eighteen days since he’d last had contact with Nate, and seven since the Prydwen had been destroyed.
Danse had only learned about the attack the day before his journey began as he was attempting to trade with a nearby settlement. Nate had been his only source of supplies since he’d begun his self-imposed isolation, and since Nate had stopped showing up to visit, Danse had been left to ration his dwindling supplies until there wasn’t anything left to eat. He had considered allowing himself to starve to death down beneath the earth - continuing his existence was a waste of resources now that he wasn’t even able to serve Nate or the Brotherhood - but that plan only lasted two days after his last meal.
Nate had told Danse to stay alive. Nate had given him orders to care for himself until he returned because Danse was special to him. Danse understood what he was: he was a tool, a synth, a man-made creation meant to serve and obey humankind. If he could not be of use to the Brotherhood directly, then the next best thing he could do was dedicate himself to serving one of their best. Really, if he were honest, the idea of being Nate's personal synth wasn't unappealing to Danse. If anything, it wasn't fair to Nate that Danse be kept around to tempt him into violating Brotherhood rules. Sexual relations with machines was strictly prohibited, as was homosexuality, but Nate carelessly disregard both rules when it came to Danse, and Danse couldn't be more grateful. He was an abomination, therefore it wasn't his place to question a human such as Nate; Nate wanted him alive, and in good health, and because of that Danse had packed a bag with the few things he had to trade and walked to Tenpines Bluff.
As soon as Danse arrived, he was met with guns and suspicion.
“Stay back,” The settler warned, warding Danse back with the barrel of a rifle. “We don’t want nothin’ to do with you or your freak of a friend.”
Danse had been aware that Nate had a… reputation around the Commonwealth. He’d been a witness to several violent (bordering on psychotic) outbursts from the man. However, he had accompanied Nate several times to this particular settlement, and the people there had never been hostile before.
“I… am sorry for any confusion,” Danse said, licking his lips. He was severely out of practice after two weeks of near-total solitude, “Paladin Nate is not accompanying me at this time.”
The settler narrowed their eyes at Danse. “You…  don’t know where he is, do you?”
“I have not had contact with Nate in weeks,” He confirmed. The sights came down after a moment of deliberation and the settler sighed.
“Jesus, I’m sorry,” They stretched their head with a hand. “Look. You just missed your buddies, but you should probably keep clear of them - they seemed to think you might have teamed up with Nate when the ship was attacked.”
“Ship? Which ship?” Danse felt his stomach drop, the pieces of the puzzle having presented themselves yet he dare not assemble them.
“The big one you lot got up by Nordhagen,” They said, expression turning from tired to something almost pitying. “You really don’t know what happened? The whole ship was blasted out of the sky. Damn near everyone in Boston had to have seen it - what, have you been livin’ under a rock for the past week?”
“There was an attack on the Prydwen?” Danse asked, taking a panicked step forward. The settler adjusted their grip on the rifle and Danse reminded himself that even without power armor, he was a large and unfamiliar man to these people. “When? Who?”
“About five days ago, I think,” The settler said. “We just heard about it when the survivors came through and raided our supplies - grilled me and my wife for hours about everything we knew about Nate.”
Danse’s heart stopped beating, he was certain of it. Why would the remaining Brotherhood want to know about Nate? The answer was obvious, blindingly so, but Danse couldn’t bring himself to even think it. Nate was Brotherhood, through and through - it was not the place of an Institute machine to question the loyalty of a flesh-and-blood human dedicated to the betterment of humanity.
Swallowing, Danse forced himself to put on a brave face and ask his question. “Was Paladin Nate there at the time of the attack?”
The settler actually laughed, though the question wasn’t funny and neither was his answer. “Was he there? I’m sorry but if what your pals said was true, he was the one that blew the damn thing up.”
Danse had ended up leaving his supplies with the settlers. There was at least 250 caps worth of ammo and scrap in the sack, but it would just weigh him down on his journey. The settlers insisted that he at least stay for dinner and leave in the morning, but Danse saw the state of their garden after the Brotherhood had been through and politely declined. It would be a waste to force humans to part with anything valuable to sustain the functionality of an obsolete machine. He had completely forgotten his hunger anyways; all that mattered to Danse was finding out if what he’d been told was true.
By the time he was close enough to see the empty spot in the sky where the Prydwen should be, he had his answer. Travelers, settlers and raiders alike had confirmed the story with identical depictions of events. According to the few witnesses left, Nate had walked onto the bridge of the ship with a gun and, without speaking to anyone, began assassinating high-ranking members of the Brotherhood, starting with Elder Maxson. The bloody massacre ended with Nate walking into the engine room and detonating an explosion - one that most likely came from the very mini-nukes that Danse had helped Nate secure.
Danse had tried to withhold judgment - he should wait to hear what Nate had to say. The descriptions all came second hand, after all. The Brotherhood survivors had all either retreated or were being treated in what was left of the major settlements. And the description of Nate that he was being given didn’t sound like his friend, his trainee, his partner one bit.
Except…
When Paladin Danse first met Nate, he had been backed against the wall by several hundred feral ghouls threatening the lives of his scouting team. While he would likely be fine so long as the fusion core in his armor held, Hayen and Rhys were vulnerable. He’d already watched the ghouls descend on Keane, tackling the knight in waves. Danse had shot them down, but it was too late. Keane never came back up.
So when Nate walked into the scene, rocket launcher in hand, and blew half of the mob to dust before Danse could finish warning his team to check their fire, he had been inclined to ignore the sinister, psychotic look of glee that Nate wore as he ripped apart the ghouls. Hell, Danse had delighted in it, feeling his men had been avenged. The moment the battle was over and those steel-blue eyes locked onto his, Danse knew he had found someone special.
Nate’s reputation hadn’t quite formed yet, but from the handful of missions that Danse accompanied him on it was clear to tell he would make a fine soldier. He was resilient and a fast shot; anything that stood in his way he took down. It was as if the man was made for the Brotherhood.
Danse offered Nate knight-ship several times before he was taken up on his offer. Nate rarely came to visit when he was in Cambridge, and when he did it was almost always to trade or ask for spare jobs to make a few extra caps. It was only when the Prydwen came rolling through that Nate seemed to seriously consider Danse’s offer. It was strange - Danse feeling honored for Nate to join his ranks rather than the other way around.
Nate made him feel a certain way, something he hadn’t felt since Cutler. Danse could watch Nate fight for hours, muscles flexed under his vaultsuit as he clubbed in the head of a ghoul or gunning down a cluster of synths. His nights were often spent imagining exactly what it would look like if it was his neck that Nate was crushing between those smooth hands and not some random raider. It was foolish, and wildly inappropriate behavior as Nate’s sponsor.
Maybe that was what made him overlook some of the man’s more obvious flaws.
By the time Nate was inducted into the Brotherhood, his reputation as a ruthless and cunning man had become fairly well known. Maxson was willing to overlook Nate’s violent past thanks to a combination of Danse’s vouching and the fact that most of Nate’s targets were shared with the Brotherhood. He had infiltrated and collapsed the Railroad, dismantled the Institute's hold over Diamond City, and struck down the mayor of a mostly-ghoul city in east Boston. His methods were harsh, but they were necessary - at least, that’s what Danse told the Elder.
“Still,” Elder Maxson had said. “It’s best we keep an eye on him. I’m not sure if our new recruit’s heart is in the right place.”
“Believe me, sir,” Danse had told him, “I would trust Knight Nate with my life.”
“That may be so…” Maxson said, “but I still have my doubts. It’s best not to take the word of a known liar at face value, and Nate has quite the reputation of betrayal.”
The truth had been there the entire time. Danse recalled the first time he had met someone who knew Nate outside of the Brotherhood, a young woman by the name of Curie. It had been shortly after the destruction of the Railroad and just before his induction into the Brotherhood. She had seemed nervous around Nate, agreeing a little too quickly to what he said and keeping her eyes on him the entire time. Haylen had taken to her rather quickly, both girls having bonded over shared medical knowledge, and Danse remembered well what she had to say when asked if she liked traveling with Nate.
“Oh- o-oui… I mean…” Her fingers tightened around the cup of tea she had been sipping at. “Monsieur is… complicated, in his motives. I am sure he has good reasons for what he is doing… I simply must trust him. He has done so much for me already.”
Danse had felt her words were foolish. She was lucky to have so much of the man’s attention, and it seemed strange that she didn’t recognize that. Less than a week later Danse watched as Nate dragged her into an abandoned shack, barred the door, and set the house on fire. Later, Nate informed Danse that the girl had been a synth and that he was only doing as the Brotherhood instructed of him. Danse had been forced to agree - despite the vast wealth of knowledge that Curie held, her existence was far too dangerous to be tolerated.
The screams that came from the house as the woman burned alive haunted Danse no matter how many times he reminded himself they were from an artificial being. For a while he wondered if synths could simulate humanity so closely as to feel pain; he had his answer now, he supposed. That girl had died in agony.
The Nate described to Danse during his expedition to the beach was far closer to the Nate in those memories than the idealized soldier that Danse had stuck in his head. The Nate who had eyes like Cutlers and spoke to him as if he were human, even after his synthetic nature was revealed. The Nate who had kissed him in the center of the old radio station on their first official mission into the Commonwealth. The Nate who would disappear for months at a time and then reappear at a moment’s notice, ready to drag Danse along on whatever new quest had taken his fancy. The Nate who never slept in the same bed as Danse after he came around for a quick fuck. The Nate who was rumored to have murdered his girlfriend a year prior. The Nate who had set his previous partner on fire when he was done with her, then walked across the field to press a loving kiss to Danse’s lips as she died. The Nate who had promised Danse to be there for him after his exile only to leave him to waste away in solitude. The Nate who had destroyed the Prydwen.
They were all the same Nate.
When Danse finally made it to the airport, he was surprised by just how familiar it seemed. The carnage had been mostly scraped away by local settlers, leaving behind only the hollowed out remains of training camps and supply stations. The opportunity for a new settlement hadn't been lost on the local population; by the time Danse arrived there were already the makings of several homes under construction. Upon arrival Danse was recognized by his uniform and a handful of the new settlers offered him their condolences. He was shown the way to the resting place for those who had been recovered - little more than a mass grave dug behind the airport marked with scattered crosses and hung holo-tags. It was more than Danse had been expecting. The locals he had met in this area before had despised the Brotherhood with a passion - the fact that they hadn’t just left the bodies to rot while looting everything they could hold from the abandoned stores was a genuine surprise. He walked along the grave sights, checking the tags for names he recognized. He found several, but Haylen and Rhys weren't among them. Whether that meant they were still alive or among the hundreds of nameless casualties, Danse would never know.
Danse turned away gifts of food and offers for a place to rest. His body was at its limit, exhausted and starving, but anything put into it now would be a waste. All of this destruction and death was because of him; he was not the victim, but rather the perpetrator. Danse intended to answer for his sins against humanity.
After politely asking for a moment alone from the concerned settlers, Danse left to walk through the empty airport. He had hoped that there would be something left of the Prydwen on land for him to do this in, but the majestic ship was resting with many of her inhabitants at the bottom of the bay. So Danse found the next best place - the first-story storage area that had been cleared out. He retrieved his pistol from his jacket pocket and knelt down before pressing the end of the barrel to the hollow of his temple.
“I am asking for you to do the human thing here, Knight,” Danse pleaded, knees on the cold, damp ground of the listening post.
“And I’m telling you I don’t want to,” Nate had argued, stubborn as ever. “I like you, Danse, synth or not. I’m not ready to give you up just yet. I need you to stay alive.”
The words had felt so kind at the time. Danse, who was nothing more than a machine lamenting the loss of what it had never really owned, had leaned into those words. They became his anchor, his world, his reason- no- his excuse to keep on living. Looking back on them after seeing the graves of his fellow soldiers - some hung with the hats of squires who were too young to have been given tags yet - he saw those words for what they were: selfishness. Nate acted for his own sake. He served no one but himself, and he had used Danse in every conceivable way. What else should Danse have expected? It was the nature of a machine to be useful to those who took advantage of it.
Danse was a foolish, treacherous, malfunctioning thing, but the very last act he would commit would be a human one. If reincarnation was something that existed for synths, he hoped he would get a chance someday to be more than just a cheap imitation of humanity.
“You know, I’m not an expert with pistols or anything, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to put that end there.”
The gun dropped from Danse’s forehead. He unclenched his eyes and turned to face the newcomer.
“Mind your own business, Scavver,” Danse said wearily, though still managing to push through some of his commanding tone from a previous life, if only so he didn’t prolong this longer than necessary. He could already feel his resolve wavering.
“Aw, come on, man,” The person in the doorway stepped into the room, arms stretched out behind his head in a relaxed pose. A pair of mirrored sunglasses reflected Danse’s haggard appearance back at him. “Haven’t the guys around here had to bury enough bodies this week? Why add to the trauma?”
Danse’s eyes narrowed, but he did stand up and put this pistol back in his pocket. “You make an excellent point,” He said, headed for the door. “I will relocate myself to a more remote location as not to disturb the population.”
“Thaaaat’s not quite what I meant,” The man blocked the exit with an arm and refused to stand down, even as Danse towered over him. “Actually, I have a proposition for you - nothing weird - I promise-” He said, holding out his hands in a show of good faith. Danse used the opportunity to sidestep the stranger and walk out of the old hanger and into the hallway. The man scurried behind him. “So, I can imagine what is going through your mind right now - who is this guy? How did he get to be so handsome? Why doesn��t he want me to blow my brains out in an old-world aircraft hangar?”
Danse ignored the man, which did nothing to stop his ranting.
“In order - My name is Deacon, I moisturize daily, and I want you to join my super awesome resistance movement to take down the rat bastard known as the Sole Survivor of Vault 111-” Danse stopped dead in his tracks. “-though I suppose you were close enough to know him as Nate, right?”
Danse turned to look over the man - Deacon, as he claimed to be. He was bald, as evidenced by his ill-fitting wig sagging just enough to show his absent hairline. He was dressed like a civilian, but up close Danse could see the ballistic armor plates hidden under his flannel shirt. There was a look about him that Danse recognized from some of the scribes, specifically the ones who had been tasked with recon. His eyes twitched at Danse's every movement, and the slight tremor in Deacon's fingers pointed him in the direction of a pistol tucked into the stranger's pants line. In short - Danse’s summary of the man was that there was more to him than just a scavenger with delusions of grandeur.
Still, he turned back around.
“Even if what you are saying is true, I cannot in good conscience accept your offer,” Danse said, continuing his long walk. Deacon kept up pace beside him.
“Really? You’re still loyal to him even after he turned half of your buddies into flaming corpses?”
Danse felt rage hit him in a wave, but years of emotional control stayed his hand. Still, he faltered in his gait. “Nate is dead to me," He said with all the contempt he had left in him. "Should I have the opportunity I would gladly put that monster down myself. My issue is not with your cause, but rather with myself. I am a synth. Taking me into your organization would be too great of a security risk.
“Oh, right, that. Yeah, I already know about that, don’t worry,” Deacon said flippantly. Danse pushed open the double doors leading to the exterior of the airport, and despite letting the doors fall back on Deacon, the man kept following. “I asked a whole bunch of the Brotherhood guys if they wanted to join up, but most of them turned tail and headed back to the capital. But there was always this one guy who they kept mentioning, yeah? A pal of Nate's who turned out to be a synth. The guy was supposedly still running around in the Commonwealth, one M7-97.” Danse took a deep breath, hating every second he spent listening to this man speak. “That’s you right? See, I figured if I hung around here long enough I’d see you. Nate isn’t exactly… good to his friends when he’s done with them. And I’d say blowing up the Prydwen was about as done as done gets.”
“As stated, I am no longer affiliated with him,” Danse said, pausing at the water’s edge when he realized there was no shaking the persistent little pest. “If you are looking for intel on his current location, I have nothing to offer you. Last contact was precisely eighteen days ago at Listening Point Bravo.”
“Oh nah, I didn’t expect anything like that,” Deacon said, coming up beside Danse. He reached down for a rock in the sand and skipped it along the bay. “I just figured joining up with us might be a decent enough alternative to suicide.”
“It is not suicide, it is turning off a broken machine,” Danse clarified. He couldn’t see the man’s eyes, but he was almost certain that Deacon rolled them behind his glasses.
“Well, when that machine is sentient, we call it suicide,” He said with a sigh. “Look, man, I know what you’re going through, believe me.”
Danse’s eyes narrowed, no longer able to keep his contempt from his face. “How could you possibly know that? The Brotherhood was humanity’s best hope for a better future, and because of my malfunction its ranks have been compromised, possibly irreparably.”
Deacon fell down onto his ass, stretching out so his bare feet were caught by the waves as they lapped the shore. “I know 'cause you’re not the only one he’s stabbed in the back,” Deacon said, looking out across the water. “I was part of the Railroad.”
Danse’s neck snapped to the side, looking down at the man. His mouth opened in a prepared lecture about the folly of mistaking synths for human beings and the role of the Railroad in humanity’s doom, but he saw Deacon remove the sunglasses from his face and for the first time he was looking into the other man’s eyes.
“Nate took us out in the dead of night. No one saw it coming,” Deacon continued. “He was a new agent, but the higher-ups put a lot of faith in him, because someone they trusted had recommended him - me.” Deacon looked back towards the waves, propped up with his hands behind him. “Look, I’m not gonna sit around and babysit you. If you want out, there isn’t much I can do to stop you. But right now, I’ll be honest, the only thing keeping me going is revenge, and that’s a hell of a lot better than being dead.”
Silence fell between them. Danse had no idea what to say to all that. On the one hand, he was perfectly happy with the destruction of a dangerous underground movement such as the Railroad, and on the other, the parallels between his and Deacon’s story were not lost on him. Danse knew that the right thing to do was to decline Deacon’s offer - possibly even take the synth sympathizer down with him before he caused any more harm - and continue with his plan to terminate his existence.
But Danse didn’t want to die, or whatever one would call it when a synth ceased to be. And more than that, he didn’t want Nate to keep on living. There were hundreds of people on that ship - men, women, children . Not all of them were good, Danse was well aware of the unsavory types that were often attracted to the military lifestyle, but none of them deserved to die the way they did only to end up buried hundreds of miles from home in a mass grave.
Maybe it was selfishness, maybe it was revenge, maybe it was raw, human (or at least human-like) emotion, but Danse finally came to his decision with a decisive nod of his head.
“Okay.” He said. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
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ti-bae-rius · 4 years
Text
Malec couple’s yoga one shot
“I can’t believe you agreed to this.”
“What? Yoga is a really great training activity. It keeps your muscles strong and toned and is great for flexibility and stamina.”
“Flexibility and stamina? I do like the sound of that.”
“Magnus!”
The two of them walked along the streets of New York, both in workout gear – though that phrase meant two wildly different things for each. Alec’s runes were glamoured and he wore his training gear – sans the heavy leather fabric shadowhunters donned for battle – which mainly consisted of a pair of loose jogging pants and a t-shirt that (like all Alec’s t-shirts) had seen better days. Magnus, however, had taken this as an opportunity to acquire some truly magnificent new clothes. A tank top reading ‘I’m heavily meditated’ and a pair of tight-fitting joggers, cuffed at the ankle and tailored to hang just right, completed Magnus’s outfit. Alec had to smile. No one else, in the history of workouts, had tailored yoga pants. But then no one else was quite like Magnus.
“We don’t need mats or anything, do we?” Alec asked, as they passed under the archway into Central Park. “The information seemed really vague. Do you think it’ll run over – my mom can only handle Max and Rafe for so long.”
“All this worrying doesn’t seem very zen of you,” Magnus chastised, taking Alec’s hand and swinging it like they did when they were making Max and Rafe ‘fly’ as they walked along the paths. Alec always thought this was somewhat of a big ask from Max, who actually could fly without the aid of Alec’s arms that were usually already somewhat tired from demon-hunting all day. Nevertheless, their squeals of joy made it all worthwhile.
A small throng of people were gathered, couples stretching together and chatting, in Central Park’s Sheep Meadow. Though still busy, it was somewhat less crowded and tourist-populated than the majority of the Park. Alec squinted to look who was there as the two of them walked closer and leaned up to whisper to Magnus, “There’s more gays than I thought there’d be.”
“Oh please, couples yoga is for three sets of people: bohemian lesbians who have squeezed this in between sensual pottery and live drawing where they only draw Cate Blanchett, straights whose marriages are on the rocks and are in desperate need of closeness not derived from brushing past one another on the way to write something on their family planner by the fridge, or gay couples – that’s us – whose marriage is just where it’s supposed to be.”
“And who want a brief moment of respite from their children – one of whom transforms into a bat when annoyed and one who loves annoying his brother?”
“I don’t think that’s quite as universal as you might expect,” Magnus pointed out and Alec laughed.
Thankfully, no one else seemed to have yoga mats. Despite Magnus’s assertions, most of the couples here looked calm and happy to be there. Alec relaxed a little and when a man and woman came over to introduce themselves as the instructors, he leaned casually against Magnus’s side, content to let his husband do the talking. He glanced round, watching the sunlight filter through the leaves of a nearby tree, mottling the grass below it with little pools of soft illumination. This was pretty nice, he thought, a feeling of serenity washing over him. Maybe Magnus was right, maybe Alec did just need to loosen up and relax, try and enjoy these new experiences. Maybe they’d become that couple, the couple that did yoga in the park and had brunch with their kids where they didn’t even drink mimosas or bloody marys because they didn’t need the pick-me-up of socially acceptable mid-morning alcohol. He’d always thought Izzy would be that person.
“Right,” the female instructor said in a voice that commanded the group. Though she’d raised her voice to gather them, she still sounded soft-spoken. “Let’s all find a space and let that space be our own bubble. Today, you and your partner are one being, two halves of one yogi. Together, let your hearts find a space. Be led by your shared heartbeat.”
Magnus and Alec exchanged a look and Magnus raised an eyebrow. Perhaps this was a little…much. Alec gave Magnus a miniscule frown and mouthed “that’s not very zen”. Magnus rolled his eyes but put a hand out and rested it on Alec’s chest, then put the other hand to his own.
“Our collective heartbeat is telling me that we should get out of here,” he said, with the same whimsical timbre to his voice that the instructor had. “It also says that the guac in the refrigerator needs eating tonight.”
Alec gave an inelegant snort and the instructors looked over at them. They didn’t look annoyed – Alec wasn’t sure people who were that at peace could be annoyed – but Alec schooled his expression into neutrality.
“I think just here is fine for our bubble,” he said and Magnus nodded, eyes glittering with amusement.
“I see we have some new energies in our space today,” the male instructor said, his speech with the same gentle lilt as his wife’s. “We welcome you into our family.” Magnus tried very hard not to think of how much this sounded like late-stage Crimson Hand rhetoric. “For our new friends, let me introduce us. This is my wife, Kelly, and I’m Gareth. Family, let’s emit some extra good vibes today to make our new souls feel welcomed and cherished.”
Alec firmly kept his eyes on the instructors instead of giving Magnus the weighted look he wanted to. Okay, this seemed a little full-on, but they’d just got here. They couldn’t judge it yet.
“What we’re going to do is start with a really easy pose that will help to solidify your connection to your partner and maintain your unity throughout our time together today,” breathed Kelly. “Let’s start with a stacked child’s pose. One half of your team transition now from mountain pose down to child’s pose, copying Gareth.”
Alec and Magnus exchanged looks and Alec shrugged, watching Gareth fold himself down onto the floor, facedown, as if having an existential crisis. Alec copied, and immediately felt the grass tickle his nose. From somewhere above him, Kelly continued talking.
“Now for our other halves, gently climb on your partner’s back and settle into the same pose. This is a really easy starting position and will keep us grounded and unified ready for our next step.”
Alec was about to say something when he felt Magnus’s weight settle atop him, pushing him further into the tickly grass. He breathed around the extra weight on his spine and Magnus bent to whisper in Alec’s ear.
“Wanna admit I was right to say we should’ve left?”
“No, this is very soothing,” Alec mumbled, and coughed on the grass that got in his mouth.
“Also, why is this child’s pose? Have Gareth and Kelly ever seen a child? If Max and Rafe were laid on the floor on their faces like this, I’d call an exorcist.”
“Shhh, I’m getting in touch with my inner peace,” Alec mumbled, and spluttered again on the grass in his mouth. “And also with this dirt.”
After a few minutes of relative calm, Gareth’s voice rung out, soft but commanding.
“Let’s all return to mountain pose now, stretching our arms up over our heads to transition to extended mountain.”
When Alec straightened up again, he glanced around, just to make sure he wasn’t being pranked. But no, a dozen other couples were all doing the same as them, lightly holding their hands above their heads, arms outstretched toward the sunny sky of New York. He settled back into it a little and tried to relax, wondering if relaxing was meant to take this much effort.
“Now we’re going to move into couple’s tree pose,” Gareth instructed. “Stand beside your partner and raise the arm closest to them into the air, touching their palm with yours. You can interlock your fingers here for extra emotional support, if you so desire. With your outside leg, rest the flat of your foot against your upper thigh, and bring your outside hands together to press flat against one another in the space between you.”
“Are you interlocking our fingers for emotional support?” Magnus whispered and Alec huffed a laugh.
“I’m doing it for structural support. I’m on some uneven grass and I feel like I’m about to fall over.”
“Consul Lightwood?”
Alec spun so fast that Magnus stumbled sideways, righting himself just in time and shooting Alec a furious look. In fact, the whole group were staring at them, looking as displeased as a group of people who had dedicated themselves to inner peace could look. Which, to be fair, wasn’t that displeased.
“Is there something disrupting your practise today?” Kelly asked, and Alec gave a nervous laugh.
“Just give me one second,” he said, staring off into the treeline where the call had come from.
“The forces outside your bubble are of no consequence during your practise,” Gareth told him, but Alec was already starting to walk over to the trees. Magnus gave a shrug to the instructors and an apologetic glance to the others in the group.
“He’s got a bad knee,” Magnus explained lamely and set off after Alec, jogging to catch up with him as he spoke to two younger shadowhunters. They couldn’t have been more than sixteen and were gaping up at Alec – and now Magnus too – with wide eyes.
“So how about I report back that you guys have been doing some great work on patrol, and you don’t tell anyone about…that,” Alec bartered. The two shadowhunters nodded and hurried off, casting looks over their shoulders as they went, heads bent together as they whispered. Alec looked at Magnus and burst out laughing. “Okay, you were right. We should’ve left before it started.”
“You mean you don’t want to get in touch with our shared heartbeat and become one soul in two bodies?” Magnus asked in mock-offence.
Alec gave him a sly side-eye and took his hand. “I didn’t say that. I’m sure we can work something out. We still have the apartment to ourselves for an hour or two before we have to get the kids.”
“What happened to ‘my mom can’t cope with them for too long’?” Magnus challenged, a devilish glint in his eye.
“She’ll be fine,” Alec assured him.
 “Why are we going to yoga night school?” Magnus asked as they reached the building indicated on Alec’s phone.
“Because it’s the only class I could find in the area when we had someone to watch the kids,” Alec explained. “Don’t worry, I made Simon promise to make them dinner.”
“Well hopefully this one is less traumatic.”
Alec groaned. “Don’t remind me. At least in a building we don’t risk random shadowhunters walking past.”
“Unless they’re in the class too!” Magnus pointed out chirpily and Alec shot him a glare as they went inside.
Much like the last class, people were milling about in couples. Alec gave the crowded hallway a quick scan but couldn’t see anyone they knew – thankfully. Alec relaxed a little. There were about the same number of couples here too, around twelve, and Alec couldn’t tell who the instructors were. Mostly people were talking in soft voices, sipping bottles of water, and leaning affectionately into conversations with their partner. Magnus glanced around.
“What kind of yoga is this?”
“I don’t know, tandem or something,” Alec said. “It was the only one available, but it looks good. The website said something about building trust and closeness or whatever.”
“Clearly imperative for us,” Magnus said dryly. “What with us being so distant and untrusting and all.”
Alec rolled his eyes but smiled.
Before he could respond, a door opened at the end of the hall and a woman emerged in a pair of leggings and a sports bra. She smiled at them and beckoned them all in. As Magnus and Alec passed her in the door, she turned and beamed at them.
“You must be our new sign-ups. I hope you enjoy the class and feel more in touch with yourselves and your bodies when you leave.”
No cult-like mentions of joining a family, or bubbles, or shared heartbeats. Alec heaved a sigh of relief and gave a glance toward Magnus, who was looking around the room. Everyone did seem quite touchy-feely, Magnus thought, but brushed it off. What else should he have expected from couple’s yoga – particularly couple’s yoga with a majority hetero clientele? He and Alec took a seat at the back of the studio, removing their shoes like the others had done and putting them behind their mat, and chatted between themselves until the woman who’d greeted them stepped to the front of the room with her own partner, a tall and well-built surfer-dude type.
“So as most of you know, I’m Carly and this is Dale, and we’ll be your guides tonight. As always, please feel free to take breaks as you need them, communication with your partner is encouraged, and remember to open a conversation after tonight’s class about what you learned about each other and yourself. These classes can really prompt strong feelings, and those should be embraced and discussed in a non-judgemental and loving way.”
“How intense is this class meant to be?” Magnus whispered to Alec, who shrugged, looking a little nervous. Was this for expert yoga-people? Yogists? Yogurts? What kind of relaxation came with a warning?
“While Carly lights the candles and I bring the lights down and close the blinds, feel free to come to rest in any pose that feels comfortable for you. Perhaps that’s child’s pose, a seated position, or maybe even corpse pose,” Dale said, and began readying the room.
“I’m starting to think we might all end up in corpse pose by the end of the night,” Alec hissed quietly, glancing round. “This looks like how most demonic rituals begin.”
“Maybe this is all a trap and Elyaas is just trying to get us to let him see Max again,” Magnus suggested and Alec laughed, looking round at the other couples to see how they were sat. Many were laid side by side, like bodies in mortuary shelves, but a handful of them were laid on their sides, pressed close together as if they were cuddled in bed. Alec raised his eyebrow sceptically and settled for sitting with his legs crossed before him, his back against Magnus who was in the same position.
“I’m getting in first to say we should leave now,” Alec whispered, eyes closed. “Just so if this is as bad as last time, I’ll get to be right.”
Alec felt Magnus’s shoulders move against his as he chuckled, then start a little as Dale spoke again.
“Okay, excellent. Let’s all slowly move to sit opposite our partner, ready to start the session with some synchronized breathing. You can do this in whatever way works for you. You could put a hand on your partner’s chest to feel their inhales and exhales. You could close your eyes and focus on the sound of their breath or maintain eye contact and build a direct channel of communication. You could hold hands. Or you can just meditate, keeping your inhalations and exhalations as one with your partner.”
Alec shuffled round to face Magnus and immediately had to close his eyes. Something about staring into the face of your significant other in a quiet and meditative room made you immediately want to burst out into loud and obnoxious laughter. Instead, he let Magnus’s hand find his in the dark of their closed eyes and tried to match their breaths. Despite himself, Alec relaxed, his shoulders drooping, jaw unclenching. Being a shadowhunter wasn’t a relaxing job, and it was sometimes hard to find time to de-stress. Maybe he’d judged this whole thing too quickly, put off by the last time. Actually, this was pretty nice.
After a while, Carly’s voice came softly through the haze of meditation, instructing them to gently come back to the present. Alec blinked open his eyes and met Magnus’s soft gaze, smiling. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
“Okay, now we’re going to move to our first real position, yab-yum,” Carly said. “You can stay crossed-legged for this, though one of you will have to move a little. One partner will stay seated and the other will climb into their lap, hooking their legs around the other’s back, coming to rest in a lotus position. Dale and I will be transitioning into yab-yum so you can observe us if you get lost.”
Magnus beckoned Alec forward and put his arms around Alec’s waist as the shadowhunter settled onto his husband’s lap, feeling a little uncomfortable doing so in a crowded room. He glanced around to confirm this was right and found everyone else doing the same.
“Relax, we’re married,” Magnus grinned and Alec nodded, laughing to himself. Magnus was right. This was totally innocent; he was just being coy.
“Gently, you can start to rock forwards and backwards,” Dale instructed, resting his hands on Carly’s hips. “Just a slight movement is fine to start. You can time this to your breathing. Breathe in, rock forward. Breathe out, rock back.”
Magnus raised an eyebrow but shrugged, following as instructed. Alec wrinkled his nose. Was it just him or did this feel weirdly…intense? Even personal?
“Are you starting to get seasick?” Magnus teased and Alec shook his head.
“I’m just really confused. What is this meant to do?”
“Help us breathe together I guess. Though, I don’t want to brag, but I’ve been breathing for centuries and I’m pretty excellent at it. I’m currently on my high score of most breaths breathed. I bet I’ve been breathing way longer than all these assholes.”
Alec laughed and tried to relax into the exercise, but he couldn’t help feeling strangely fidgety, like something wasn’t right.
“For a more connective experience,” Dale said. “You can add extra elements, especially if you’re the partner sat on the floor. Try rocking your lower back as well and raising your hips towards your partner’s.”
Alec and Magnus exchanged confused looks, and Alec felt his eyes widen when a few nearby couples began breathing more shallowly, less controlled. Magnus covered his mouth to stifle a laugh at Alec’s scandalised expression.
“Did you know—” Magnus began and Alec shook his head vehemently.
“Is this…” He dropped his voice and mouthed, “sex yoga?”
Magnus gave a loud snort of laughter and Alec shushed him, but the laugh was contagious and the sound came out disjointed and breathless. Instead, Alec put a finger to his lips, and looked up at the ceiling, trying not to meet Magnus’s eyes and start their laughs again. It was going well until Carly gave a breathy sigh and continued.
“This pose represents the mother and father in the act of sexual union, and really appeals to both genders’ need for interpenetration.”
“Well this isn’t going to help us at all then,��� Magnus muttered, rolling his eyes.
Alec lost his composure completely and gave a cry of amusement that was smothered too late by Magnus’s hand. Both of them were laughing now, bent forward towards one another with tears in their eyes. Alec could feel the disapproving stares of the other people in the class and tried hard to compose himself, but it was no use. From somewhere above them, someone cleared their throat and the two of them looked up to see Carly stood there, with a face like thunder. And who could blame her, Alec thought. Two total newbies had signed up for her class, been totally blind-sided by what it actually was, and had some kind of hysteric moment in the middle of their session. Before she could say anything, Alec climbed to his feet and pulled Magnus up after him by the hands, still grinning uncontrollably.
“I, ah, don’t think this is our class,” Alec muttered apologetically.
“Yeah, I’m sure it said Bridge club was next door,” Magnus added and Alec had to press his lips together so he didn’t laugh in the poor woman’s face. Alec swept down, grabbed his shoes in one hand and Magnus’s in the other, shoved a pair at his husband, and stumbled gracelessly from the room, weaving between yab-yumming couples, and shutting the door quickly behind them.
As soon as they were out of the building, the two of them exploded into laughter, the sound ringing out on the quiet New York streets. It was already dark, though not even gone seven, and Alec sank down onto a bench to lace up his sneakers, still shaking with amusement. Magnus was bent double, wiping a tear from his eye.
“Tantric, you idiot,” Magnus wheezed. “Tantric yoga, not tandem.”
“I don’t know what that means!” Alec protested, gesturing to the building. “Who does sex yoga at seven on a Thursday evening? It’s a school day tomorrow!”
Magnus cackled and threw his head back, reminding Alec of their very first date, the two of them howling with joy at the awful subway rappers. It was the first time Alec had remembered really letting go, really surrendering to the idea of being happy. There, walking the streets with Magnus back to the apartment that wasn’t yet his home too, Alec hadn’t thought about what anyone else would think, or if someone he knew would see him. All he could think about was those terrible performers, and the way Magnus’s laugh sounded like someone opening the door to the rest of his life, and the whisper of evening air like a great spirit whispering at him that he could finally relax.
 Walking home, hand in hand, Magnus nudged a hip against Alec’s playfully.
“So, it’s super important to start a conversation after tonight’s class about what you learned about each other and yourself,” Magnus said, imitating Dale’s rolling Californian drawl.
“I learned that I should read the description of things properly before I book them for $60 a person,” Alec said.
“$60?” Magnus demanded incredulously. “You paid $120 for us to sit in a dark room with a bunch of horny couples and sit on each other’s laps?”
Alec rested his head on Magnus’s shoulder and laughed into the fabric of his jacket. “I just wanted us to have a good night out away from the kids and spend some time together.”
“I like movies, you know? And dinner, and the theatre, and literally anything where a woman doesn’t say interpenetration to me in a room full of other people.”
“Come on,” Alec urged, grinning. “Let’s at least take something from it. What did you learn?”
“I learned…that you are very, very attractive when you laugh,” Magnus said, leaning down to kiss the top of Alec’s head, feeling his husband nestle further into his shoulder. “How about you?”
“I learned…” Alec laughed shyly and straightened up, squeezing Magnus’s hand. “I learned that sitting on someone’s lap while they laugh is a unique experience that is not entirely without it’s…appeal.”
Magnus glanced at him and quirked an eyebrow. “Oh really?”
Alec shrugged and Magnus spun Alec round by the hand.
“I’m sure that could be arranged,” Magnus said softly and watched devilishly as Alec went fantastically red. “Come on, let’s go. Luckily for you we have a ridiculous life so there’s plenty of things to laugh at to get you all hot and bothered.”
Alec swatted at him and shushed him, looking around the near-empty street.
“We can start with the fact that your husband still turns you into a fumbling mess.”
“You’ll always do that,” Alec reminded him, and shot Magnus a winning smile that sent Magnus into his own state of unravelling. “We could swing by Simon and Izzy’s and get the kids early.”
“Or…” Magnus said, with a familiar look in his eyes and Alec’s mouth quirked in a smile. “I don’t know why you look so smug; I was going to suggest we sat in silence and timed our breaths to each other,” Magnus said and ducked away, chuckling, as Alec went to grab for him.
When Alec inevitably caught him, he wrapped his arms around Magnus, pressing a kiss to his neck. “What is our life?” he sighed, and Magnus tilted his chin down so his lips met Alec’s.
“Perfect,” Magnus answered fondly. “That’s what.”
DISCLAIMER
This is a fun fic - don’t take it too seriously. No not all yoga is like this, not all tantric yoga is about sensuality or sexuality, but some of it is and that’s great too. Just...take it in the spirit it’s meant.
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I’ll keep you safe... 12/?
<Part 11<
Thanos glared at the bullet that barely missed his foot. A perfect shot by someone who was warning him off. "I wondered how long it would be before you stuck your nose in, Rogers." He began to raise his head, a wicked smirk on his lips as he lowered his gun.
Steve knew better than to trust him, "Well, you leave me no option when you treat people, my people, like this where you don't belong." Steve glared at him. "Now, as I said, walk away."
"Can't do that, Rogers. Not without her." Thanos aimed his gun towards you but he wouldn't shoot, not when there were four guns locked on him, even if one was shaking because Scott was paying you more attention.
Blood was pouring out of your arm where Thanos had shot you.
"You're not taking, Y/N, Thanos. This is her home now, not with you." Steve spoke and took a protective step closer to you. "Leave. Or I promise I will kill you."
"No." You called out, your voice laced with pain and drowsiness. "Steve." Scott reluctantly moved with you, helping you to stand on wobbly legs.
"Y/N," Steve frowned at you, his heartbreaking at the thought of you betraying him.
"Shh," You reached out and grabbed a hold of his arm, working your bad one around his waist as you reached over and slipped your bloody fingers around his hand and gun, aiming it towards Thanos, wiping the smug look from his face. "I'll, kill him."
Steve held you close. His chest tight as the smell of blood filled his nostrils but pride filled his heart as the two of you, along with Sam, Bucky and now Scott, aimed your guns at Thanos.
"Leave." You whispered.
The sound of sirens closing in on the scene grew louder and louder as Thanos stared into your soul, but you weren't scared. You meant it, you were going to kill him.
"C'mon," Thanos grabbed Proxi by her arm and dragged her away, "This isn't over, you hear." He snapped before they disappeared down an alley.
"Ah!" You gasped in pain, almost falling down but Steve secured you closer to his side.
"I've got you, baby girl, I've got you." You heard Steve shout something to Bucky, something about the car before you passed out. The drug you'd been spiked with finally knocking you out. ---------- Steve paced back and forth across the hallway, plotting all kinds of ways to kill Thanos.
"It's just a flesh wound, Steve. I've cleaned and wrapped her arm, it'll need changing in a couple of days or if the blood soaks through." Dr. Banner informed Steve as he left his room and you in Steve's bed, closing the door slightly behind him.
Steve ran his hands down his face before nodding. "Thanks, Bruce." He let out a heavy sigh, "Is she awake?"
Bruce shook his head, "Not yet, could be a few hours. Without knowing what it was they spiked her with, it's hard to say. If it was just your typical date-rape drug then it could be 4 to 8 hours, anything else... Could be days, weeks... I don't know, m'sorry."
Steve shook his head, offering him a tight-lipped smile. "It's not your fault, Bruce. Thank you," He shook his friend's hand, thankful for his help.
"Any time." Bruce nodded before walking back down the hallway, passing Bucky on his way.
"Hey boss, how is she?" Bucky asked.
Steve shook his head, pushing open his bedroom door. He stood in the doorway, watching you slowly breathe, almost as if you were sleeping peacefully. "We got lucky, Buck." He sighed deeply, "That bastard, hurt her and I promised I wouldn't allow that to happen."
"Steve, this isn't your-"
"DON'T!" Steve snarled, "That bastard hurt her and was going to take her away from me, to do God knows what with her." He heaved taking a couple of steps into the room. "I want to know how they found her. If he's got people here in Brooklyn, I want to know who, where and how long. I want them, and I want them dead."
"Steve-" Bucky tried to reason with Steve but the death glare he received silenced him. "Got it."
Steve nodded, "Good. Also, pass along a message to Stark for me. Tell him, we might have to take Thanos down sooner than we thought."
Bucky nodded, agreeing. "Do me a favour?" Bucky asked, receiving yet another death glare off Steve but this time he wasn't so easily quietened. "Get some sleep. Relax. You can't do anything yet, and right now, protecting her is the most important thing for you to do, right?" Bucky said as he pointed over to your almost lifeless body.
Steve looked at you, if it wasn't for the slow rise and fall of your chest he might have believed it. He nodded with a heavy sigh, "Okay."
Bucky nodded, saying he'd have someone bring up some food for the two of you so Steve didn't have to leave your side, then he left.
The soft click if the bedroom door finally meant Steve could let out his breath he'd been holding. He perched himself on the edge of the bed beside you and dropped his head into his hands. He was failing to do what he promised and it was killing him. ---------- The urge to pee woke you, but it didn't feel as if you were waking from any ordinary sleep, you felt... Empty.
"Ah!" You cried out after trying to put weight onto your left side.
"Y/N?" Steve called out from the bathroom.
"I'm, ah- I'm, fi-fine." You hissed, struggling to sit up as the bathroom door opened.
"Y/N, be careful," Steve's voice was stern as he walked out of the bathroom and towards you.
You were speechless as you stared at Steve, a very naked Steve, in nothing but a towel as he walked towards you. Droplets of water fell from his damp hair and down his face, and neck... His toned pecks and ab-
"Y/N?" Steve frowned as he bent over in front of you.
You blinked, "Uh," You shook your head, trying not to think too much about naked Steve.
"Doll, are you okay?" Steve placed his hand on your cheek softly, lifting your gaze to meet his.
You gulped, "Uh, yeah, yeah." You nodded. "I- Why am I in here?" You frowned slightly realising where you were.
Steve stood up, his face flushing red as he raised his hand and brushed his damp hair back from his face. "I, wanted you in here, to keep you close."
You began blushing, "Oh," Your eyes fell back to his chest and then to where the towel was sat low on his hips. You could see the start of his-
Steve's brow creased as he watched you zone out again. "Y/N?"
Your eyes shot up to meet his again. "Yeah?"
"Are you okay?" Steve asked concerned.
You nodded looking down to where you were sat. "I need to pee!" You suddenly remember and went to move without thinking, crying out in pain. "Son of a-"
"Stop!" Steve let out a soft sigh as bent over and moved the duvet back before he held his hand out for you to grab with your good hand. "Slowly, Y/N, please." He whispered as you began to move off his bed.
Steve kept hold of your good side, placing his left hand on the small of your back for extra support as you began to move on wobbly legs.
"Thanks." You smiled softly as you walked into the bathroom.
Steve shook his head, "It's fine, doll." He cleared his throat as let go of your hand. "Is there, anything else, you need me, too, hmm-"
"I got it from here." You smiled up at him.
He nodded and stepped out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him to give you privacy.
It was a struggle with your injured arm but you managed to relieve yourself. The last thing you wanted was to ask Steve for his help pulling your pants up.
"Hey, Steve?" You called out as you opened the bathroom door.
Steve looked up from his phone, now dressed in a pair of sweat pants and a plain white t-shirt. "Yeah?" He asked from where he sat on his bed.
"Did you redress me?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.
Steve shook his head, "Nat did." He smiled slightly. "Don't worry, I didn't sneak a peak or anything."
You blushed with a small smile. "I was just, asking. That's not how I want you-" You shut your mouth and shook your head, "Doesn't matter." You blushed.
A sly smirk slowly worked it's way onto Steve's lips as he turned around so his legs were over the side of his bed. "That's not how you want me to, what?"
You shook your head, "Nothing."
"No, not nothing," Steve grinned as he got up and walked towards you, taking a hold of your good hand once more. "Tell me." He whispered, turning you and helping you sit back upon his bed. He rested both his hands on the bed beside you, caging you in almost. You shook your head looking down to your bare feet dangling off the bed, blushing under Steve's intense gaze. "That's not how I wanted to see you the first time either, doll." He whispered as he gently cupped your face in his left hand.
"Thank you," You whispered, lifting your gaze to meet his.
Steve frowned slightly,  "For what? Not peaking?" He raised his eyebrow at you with a small smirk making you giggle.
You shook your head. "No, you idiot," You playfully punched his shoulder. "I meant, for coming and saving my stupid ass." You frowned slightly as the images of earlier filled your head. "M'sorry." You whispered, tears slowly itching at your eyes.
Steve's brow creased as he watched the tears form. He moved next to you and slipped his arm around your waist. "And why are you sorry?"
You let out a soft sigh, "Because... I wanted to get away from you..." You sniffled, tears slowly began to fall, "Just for a little while because, I felt like my freedom was, being taken away from me again, but..." Your tears fell even harder, feeling guilty. "I was stupid. You're, giving my life back to me... I shouldn't have gone to the library. I deserved to get-"
Steve's mouth was on yours before you could finish your sentence, forcing his tongue into your mouth which you gladly accepted. You reached up with your left arm to pull him closer, letting out a sharp hiss.
"Shit, doll," Steve panicked, quickly scooping you up in his arms and moved you to lay down properly on the bed. "M'sorry." He whispered as he laid beside you and brushed a strand of hair back from your face.
"It's not your fault, Steve."
"And it's not yours." He leaned in close to you, pressing his forehead against yours. "M'sorry I made you feel that way, the last thing I wanted was to make you feel like that. That's why I haven't asked-" He closed his eyes with a deep sigh, "You didn't deserve to get shot, Y/N. Thanos is an evil man."
You nodded, reaching up to brush your fingers through his damp hair. "I know you're trying to help me. M'sorry I left without telling you, I just... I just wanted to do something... I enjoyed without thinking about him... Fucked that up." You sighed.
"No," Steve shook his head. "You did nothing wrong, okay? If you want to go to the library then, I'll buy the fucking library so your safe. I promise, Y/N, that man won't hurt you... I won't hurt you." He smiled warmly at you.
Your chest fluttered as you looked into his eyes. All your stupid worries from before disappeared in a blink of an eye. You really believed him, trusted him...
"Boss- oh, uh," You let out a surprised gasp as Bucky left the room as quick as he entered.
Steve let out a heavy sigh as he rolled off the edge of the bed. "Does no-one know how to knock!" He grunted as he walked over to the bedroom door and pulled it open. "What?" He snapped.
You tried not to laugh at the Mob Boss, hiding your face behind your hands as you listened to him tell Bucky off for mot knocking.
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aerynwrites · 4 years
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Job Gone Wrong - Javier Peña x Reader
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Author’s Note: How could I resist the urge to use this gif?? ugh, this man DOES THINGS TO ME. Anyway, I was VERY, inspired by this post from @spacedadheadcanons (Thank you so much for letting me use it!) and also thanks to @theforceofdarkandlight pretty much INSISTING that I write this 😂 Love you Lauren you da best ❤ And an even more special Thanks to my beta readers @anniebombannie and @amberthefiredemon y’all are so fun and amazing and make this whole process to much easier! love you guys!
p.s. I do NOT speak spanish. I literally punched stuff into SpanishDict! and hoped for the best lol, so i apologize to everyone who can speak/read spanish this is probably butchered XD
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: Reader gets stabbed, mentiosn of blood, sticthes, cursing, re-injury, kising, angst and fluff.
///
You had been partners with Javier Peña and Steve Murphy for a little over a year at this point, and you had managed to get Javier into a relationship within about seven months of that time. To say you were surprised was more than an understatement. You had been pining after your fellow DEA agent pretty much the second you laid eyes on him, but you were quick to learn that he was not a relationship guy. 
He found what seemed like a new woman every night, slept with her, and then kicked her out before the birds started chirping in the early morning light. It was a routine you had learned very quickly due to the horrifyingly thin walls of your shared apartment building. So, when about two months into your transfer, the obscene sounds from next door stopped, it caught you off guard. You had almost wanted to ask Javier about it, but you knew that conversation would be awkward, so you let it be. However, you didn’t fail to notice the extra attention the agent started to give you soon after. The lingering gazes, the gentle grazes he gave your lower back as he scooted by you, and you definitely couldn’t ignore when he started to bring you coffee every morning, prepared just the way you liked. 
Steve let out a low chuckle as Javier walked away after just delivering your morning cup of coffee, having to talk to the ambassador about something.
“What?” you questioned, sipping slowly at the warm drink in your hands.
Steve just shook his head, “You both are just oblivious as hell,” he says, a smirk adorning his lips.
Your brows furrowed together, “What do you mean? He’s just being nice.”
You knew your words were bullshit, but what did Steve expect you to do? Fall down at Javier’s feet and confess your undying love?
Steve rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, “You both are like two lovesick puppies but are too stubborn to admit it.”
You shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah well, you know how he is…he doesn’t do the relationship thing. I wouldn’t stand a chance,” you sigh bitterly.
Steve shrugs his shoulders, hands clasped together and resting on his stomach, “I don’t know…a little bird told me that a certain DEA agent has caught feelings for you.”
And that was the day you found out Javier Peña had feelings for you too. You had resolved that day to tell him how you felt, but he had beaten you to it when he knocked on your apartment door with a pizza and beer in hand. 
The rest was history as they say.
Since then, you two had been together happily. You both had flaws you had to work through but you did it together, hell it only took him a couple of weeks to convince you to move in with him since you practically live with him anyways with how much you stayed over. And of all of this lead you here, chasing down two of Escobar’s men through a local Comuna with Steve. Javier had been away for almost a week working with Carrillo on another lead. The news had made both you and Javier upset, never having been away from each other more than a day or two, but you knew it had to be done. So, you both had to settle for phone calls each night instead. But now you were missing Javier even more, he was usually the one to run after targets while you ambushed them, but now that you were the one running after them you realized just how out of shape you were. You had gotten separated from Steve somewhere along the way but had managed to stay on the Narcos’ tail, sighing in relief when you reached a dead end, corning the man in a small courtyard. 
“Pon tus manos arriba donde pueda verlas!” you commanded, gun raised and aimed at the perp in front of you.
He looked at you menacingly before dropping his gun and raising his hands above his head.
“¡ no te muevas!” you say, telling the man not to move as you approached him, gun still aimed while pulling the cuffs from your belt. 
You slowly approached him and commanded him to turn around before grabbing one of his hands and pulling it roughly behind his back, clicking one of the cuffs around his wrist. But before you could get his other hand down, he was ripping it from your grasp and grabbing something from his belt. It all happened so fast. One minute you were about to arrest the guy and the next he had turned around and drove a knife into your side before running off.
You let out a pained gasp as a sharp jolt shot through your side, “Motherfucker!” you cursed, hand immediately pressing into your side as you stumbled slightly, pressing your other hand against the wall for stability. You felt the thick and warm liquid run from your side and through your fingers, coating them in a dark crimson.
“Shit,” you whisper at first, “fuck!” you exclaimed, hand slamming against the wall next to you as the reality of the situation sank in. 
You had just lost your main lead to the case and gotten stabbed in the process, and you didn’t know where Steve was. This was just great. As if he could read your mind, you heard rapid footsteps followed by a familiar voice calling out your name.
“I’m over here!” you call, finally seeing Steve round the corner and his eyes widened at the red stain blossoming on your white shirt, “fucker stabbed me before he ran off,” you hiss as Steve approaches pulling his jacket off and replacing your hand with the fabric instead, trying to staunch the bleeding. 
“Are you okay? Can you walk?” he asks frantically. 
You nod, surprisingly it didn’t hurt all that much, you suppose the adrenaline pumping through you had something to do with that, “Yes, I’m fine, let’s just get the hell out of here before more trouble finds us,” you breathe, and let Steve lead you back to the car.
----
You let out a sigh as you carefully strip off your blood-stained shirt in favor of one of Javier’s clean ones lean back into the multitude of pillows you threw on the bed. Steve had just walked you to your and Javier’s apartment after a trip to the hospital and a dose of painkillers. 
“Remember to take these every six hours, and then your antibiotics twice a day,” Steve reminded you, pressing the bottles into your hands after you unlocked the doors, “And don’t rip your stitches, last thing we need is another trip to the hospital,” he teases.
you roll your eyes, and give the man a mock salute, “Sir, yes sir!” before walking into your apartment and closing the door.
Okay so maybe the painkillers were doing a little more than just taking the pain away. You mostly felt tired, but it was also mixed with a slightly fuzzy feeling in your mind. Just as you were about to crawl under the covers and get some much-needed rest you heard the door to your apartment open and close, followed by the jingling of keys being tossed onto the counter.
“Sweetheart?” Javier’s baritone voice drifted through the apartment.
A smile immediately lit up your face and you quickly, but carefully, swung your legs off the side of the bed and walked into the living room, eyes instantly falling onto a disheveled but relaxed looking Javier.
“Javi! You’re back!” you say, voice thick with relief as you walk over and wrap him in a hug.
His face falls instinctively to the crook of your neck and he takes in a deep breath, “I miss you so much, mi amor,” he whispers, hands coming to rest on your waist as he leaves a soft kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder.
You can feel him start to push you backwards slightly and you pull away from the embrace looking at him questioningly, “Javi, babe what are you-“ 
Before you can finish Javier pushes you somewhat roughly into the wall behind you, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was gone,” he breathes, mouth moving from you neck to your jaw.
“I missed you too Javier,” you gasp as his mouth finally meets yours, days of longing and emotions poured into this single action. 
Javier’s hands drift from ups up to your sides, gripping you roughly through his thin t-shirt you were wearing, right over your newly injured side. You let out a loud gasp, pleasure and pain, and your foggy mind can’t tell which is more important in this moment. 
“Did you put this one for me?” he asks, voice thick with want and need, “because you look so fucking-“ his words catch in his throat as he squeezes your side once more, and his brows knit confusion as a new and unfamiliar warmth meets his hand. He pulls away from you slightly, ignoring your whine at the loss of contact and his eyes widen at the sight before him. 
His hand is covered in a thin coat of blood, as he pulls it away from the crimson stain on your shirt, “What the fuck? (y/n), what they hell is this?” he exclaims, voice rising several octaves as he takes your wrist in his non bloody hand and pulls it away from your body to get a better look at your now bleeding side.
You let out an indignant huff, “Some asshole stabbed me earlier today, nothing major now-“ you reached out for him again, wanting to feel his lips on your again, “Come here. I can’t even feel it!” you assure.
Javier lets out an angry sigh, shoving your grasping hands away and instead pulls you over to sit on a stool in the kitchen, “Stop! You got fucking stabbed? And you didn’t tell me?” he asks, anger and concern lacing his words as he hurriedly digs under the sink for the med kit he had there.
You roll your eyes, “I’m fine! Plus, I just got home a few minutes before you did, how was I supposed to tell you?” you argue.
Javier doesn’t say anything in return, he instead rushes back over to where you are sitting, med kit in hand. He quickly lifts your shirt up and over your head to inspect the damage. The bandages are soaked completely through with blood and he gently lifts up the bottom edge of your sports bra to unwrap the dirty bandages. 
“Why didn’t you tell me as soon as I walked in the door? It should have been the first thing you told me!” he scolded; voice harsher than he meant for it to be. You sighed and slumped over in your seat slightly, shame filling you at his words, “I’m sorry Javi,” you whisper, hand running through his hair lightly.
His heart was racing at the thought of what happened to you, and the fact that he wasn’t there when it happened. As he unwrapped the last layer, he cringes slightly at the damage he sees. It’s actually not as bad as it seemed, some of the stitches had just ripped from where he had been a little rough with you. he felt a pang of guilt shoot through him.
“No, I’m sorry, look at what I did,” he mutters, pulling the supplies he’d need from the med kit and setting them on the counter. 
You opened your mouth to refute his apology but were silenced with a quick peck to the lips instead. Javier brought a hand up to rest on your cheek and gently ran his thumb over your cheek bone, “Just…let me fix you up okay? Then I’ll order some food and we can relax.” Your eyes found his, flooded with concern but also bursting with love as he stared back at you.
You gave him a small smile, turning your head to press a kiss to the palm of his hand and nodded, “Okay.”
Javier gave you a small smile before kneeling down to your side and set to work on patching you up. He cleaned away the blood before disinfecting the area and carefully placing a few stitches back where they needed to be. He took notice of how you barely flinched as he threaded the needle through your skin and let out a small chuckle before tying a knot and cutting the thread.
“They must have you on some pretty strong painkillers,” he comments, now wrapping the bandages around your torso.
You let out a giggle, “I was telling you the truth when I said it didn’t hurt,” you begin, “But I think I’m just a badass, because it didn’t hurt when I actually got stabbed either,” you say, a large smile on your face. 
Javier finishes wrapping the bandages securing them with some medical tape before standing so you were looking up at him. he let out a small chuckle and gently placed his hands on your hips, “Yeah well you’re my badass,” he says playfully, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 
You smile into the kiss, his moustache tickling your upper lip slightly before you pull away and rest your head against his chest, sighing contentedly. You both just stayed in that position for a while, his hands on your hips and your arms wrapped loosely around his waist, relishing in each other’s presence after a week of not seeing one another. 
You finally broke the silence, “Can we order from that pizza place a few blocks over? I didn’t realize how hungry I was until you mentioned food,” you said shyly.
Javier just gave you a bright smile and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling you up from the stool, “Anything for you amado,” he says gently.
You smile at his sweet words and follow him as he leads you over to the couch and sits you down, “Stay here I’ll be right back.” 
You nod and watch as he scurries off the bedroom, emerging moments later in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, his arms filled with pillows and blankets. You feel your heart swell as he comes over and places the pillows down near the armrest and motions for you to lay down before tossing the blanket over you. you gave him a warm smile as he went to go order the pizza before returning back to the living room and sitting down, pulling your legs into his lap and turning on the TV.
He gently strokes your legs over the covers, and you intertwine one of your hands with his free one, “You’re too sweet to me Javi,” you say quietly.
Javier looks over to you, and shakes his head, “Nothing is ever too much for you mi amor,” he says sweetly before leaning over, mindful of your injured side, and kissing you sweetly before pulling away and taking your hand in his again. 
“I love you Javi,” you say quietly, eyes on the TV.
Javier smiles, squeezing your hand gently as his other hand still stroked your leg slowly, a certain calm peace settling over him as he sat on the couch with the woman he loved.
“I love you too.” 
Bonus:
Steve watched as Javier walked into the embassy the next day, straight to his desk and dialing the phone. He was still as he waited for whoever it was to pick up then he caught Steve’s eye and turned away from him, as they answered. “Hey, yes I know I just left,” he casts Steve another glance and lowers his voice, Steve had to strain to hear the conversation.
 “Did you remember to take your pain killers?” Javier paused, “And the antibiotics?” he paused again, “Yes I know you can take care of yourself, I just wanted to make sure,” he defends, “Okay, yes, I will grab some on the way home, love you,” he says finally and hangs up the phone, turning to return to his desk across from his partners.
Steve gives him a shit eating grin, leaning back in his chair, he opens his mouth to say something, but Javier stops him with an accusing finger, “Not a fucking word,” word he bites. 
Steve fights to hold back a laugh and puts his hand up in mock surrender, “Okay Peña, but I will say I never took you for the mother hen type,” he smirked.
Javier wouldn’t admit it, and he definitely wouldn’t show it in front of the other guys at work, but Steve knew how much he cared about you. He had to hold back another laugh as he ducked to avoid the folder thrown his way, finally laughing at the disgruntled look Javier sent his way.
Oh yeah, he wasn’t fooling anybody...He was smitten.
///
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anika-ann · 4 years
Text
The Troubles Are Lurking in Queens - Pt.1
Of Arrogant Lawyers and Cheerful… Spider Vigilantes?
Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader        Word count: 1860 
Type: Two-shot, reader insert
Warnings: swearing, mention of attempted assault and a gun and a knife, pregnancy, adorable Peter Parker aka your friendly neighbour Spiderman
Summary: When an arrogant lawyer demands his paperwork right now or better yet this very moment, you’re a good wife to Matt and decide to deliver the documents yourself – for your husband’s mental health sake (and for the sake of the meeting he’s running to).
The catch is the said lawyer has his office in Queens – and whoever said Hell’s Kitchen was the least safe place in NYC was clearly lying. 
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You were staring at barrel of a gun. And your first thought was: the universe is punishing me for falsifying legal documents.
It happened approximately like this:
“Mr. Davidson-” Matt murmured, massaging the bridge of his nose, giving up the struggle of tying up his tie with one hand. Though that might have had something to do with the fact you snatched the said hand away to do it for him.
“I understand you would like to have the-"
You couldn’t make out a word, but the male voice on the other end sounded downright outraged. This Mr. Davidson had been pissing you off for quite a while; he was the opposite counsel on one of Matt’s cases and he was making everything difficult in the line of paperwork, well-aware Matt was going to dismantle him. 
He. Was. Indescribably. Arrogant. Which was something you just couldn’t stand and it drove you up the wall.
“I just don’t have time right— no, I do not have a messenger boy on my disposal just to deliver the documents to you, you can be sure as-" You covered Matt’s mouth before he could swear, gaining a look as grateful as frustrated and wounded.
Oh yeah, you would love to even send this guy to hell and back just to kick him back down there, but Matt had a professional image to maintain. He inhaled deeply.
“Mr. Davidson, I’ll even deliver you the document myself-"
“With coffee and ‘go fuck yourself’…” you hummed as you finished the tie, causing the corners of Matt’s lips twitch.
“-but I just can’t do it before noon.”
Matt listened to the man’s raised voice for a while, grinding his teeth.
You felt really sorry for Matt. And what did a good wife do when feeling sorry for her husband? Helped him.
“I can deliver it.”
Matt shook his head, covering the phone. “I need to print it in non-braille version somewhere and sign it. I don’t have time for that-"
“I can sign it,” you shrugged. Matt’s eyebrow shot up. “What? I saw you sign stuff more times than I can count. It will be fine.”
“That’s a fraud.”
“It stays in a family. I’ll be signing by my own last name.”
Matt’s features softened at the note, but he didn’t change his mind. “That’s still a fraud, sweetheart.”
You pointed at the phone wordlessly; the man on the other end of the was so caught up in his monologue, enchanted by listening to the sound of his own voice, that he didn’t even notice no one was responding.
Matt pouted in an ‘okay, you have a point’ way. His eyebrow furrowed with concern – of course it did. He always worried about you, sometimes for a good reason, however, lately… ever since you two had found out you were going to be parents, a new life growing in your belly… well. Matt was anxious and downright paranoid.
“You would do it?”
“Sure. I could use a walk.” Oh, you could. You might be having a day off, but sitting on a couch all day might actually kill you.
“It’s in Queens.”
“...and a subway ride.”
He still seemed to struggle.
“-are you even listening to me?!”
And that did it. Matt cracked. “Of course, Mr. Davidson. You’ll have the documents before noon.”
“Now was that so hard?”
Matt inhaled sharply and you quickly took the phone from his hand.
“Mr. Murdock put you through to me. I’ll deliver you the documents. It was a pleasure to deal with you, Mr. Davidson,” you chatted sweetly and ended the call. Matt was watching you, pressing his lips together, clearly holding back a smile.
“You’re a mischief.” 
He kissed you forehead lovingly.
“Me?” you asked innocently. “I was perfectly polite. He was being a dick. Now, you mean the papers for the Howard’s case, right? Speak fast or you really will be late for your meeting…”
That was how you found yourself on your way to Mr. Davidson’s office in Queens, two copies of whatever paperwork with yours/Matt’s signature and the bloody Google maps app that wasn’t counting on alleyways. And you had about four extra pounds just in your belly, so you really wanted to count any shortcut in.
On a second thought, maybe God was not punishing you for the little fraud with the signatures but for your laziness.
Now you were staring at a barrel of a gun, four pounds of living growing mass of your baby in your belly and you really didn’t know how to fight the mugger off. The memory of Matt’s voice reminding you the first rule – run from the danger – was shushed by a dreamed voice of his that was telling you to just give the thug your fucking purse, because running was not an option in your state and situation; on top of everything, Mr. Davidson’s ‘now was that so hard?’ mocked you and you mentally yelled YES.
“Are you deaf too? Give me your fucking bag!”
“Okay, okay— just… just don’t shoot! I’ll give you my phone and wallet, but I have some legal papers I can’t-”
He shot into air and you jumped, your instinct screaming at you how to disarm him – Matt had taught you how, you had actually done it before, because you fucking lived in Hell’s Kitchen, the most dangerous area in NYC, Matt had taught you for a reason. But another instinct – not to take any risks and protect your baby – was much stronger. You gulped, feeling tears gathering in your eyes.
“Please, just— just don’t hurt me.” Don’t hurt the baby. “Here-"
You barely managed to extend your hand with the handbag when something white curled around the gun – more like cocooned it – and pulled the weapon away.
Both you and your assailant gasped.
“Fuck.”
“Up here, bad guy!” a cheerful male voice called out and you fought the urge to look up, not wanting to leave the still dangerous man out of your sight.
Good thing you didn’t; he pulled out a knife and lunged after you.
You barely dodged the knife and caught his forearm. He seemed surprised at your defence, but let the knife fall, trying to catch it with his free hand. You listened to your first instinct – you deflected the knife before he caught it.
You managed to kick his knee and then his both legs were suddenly tied together with the strange white-- thingie and the thug was pulled away, cursing.
You blinked in shock, looking in the direction he was being dragged. A strange man of not so strong built, dressed in blue and red costu— armour, it must have been an armour, because he was obviously stopping a crime in a dress-up, which made him a vigilante. And as a vigilante wife, you knew vigilantes were in fact not wearing costumes, but armours.
“What kind of a douche attacks a pregnant woman?!” he demanded exasperatedly and with one motion of his wrist, the mugger’s hands were tied too. “Coward!”
And he knocked him out, tossing him aside, looking up at you. What kind of a mask was that? The strange eye area-- and was that a spider emblem on his chest?
He took several steps towards you and you instinctively stumbled back.
This guy might have saved your ass, but he was still a stranger, shooting some white sticky substance from his wrist and he was wearing a spider themed cos- armour and it was really creepy. Which said something considering your own husband was lurking at night dressed like the Devil himself.
“Hey, it’s okay! I’m not gonna hurt you! I promise!”
He held out his hands, showing you they were empty and that he meant no harm. Jesus, he was so thin. Was he even a man? Was he a kid? Like, a teenager? His voice sounded like it still some masculine changes to go through.
“Who are you?” you asked cautiously. ‘How old are you?’
“I came to help! I’m just your friendly neighbour Spiderman!”
The who now? “I’m not... from the neighbourhood. I’m-"
“-BLEEDING! Oh god, oh god. You really showed the guy, but you’re bleeding. Oh god, oh shit— now that’s more money to the swear jar-" the kid, and you were now sure he was a kid, started panicking and you had no idea why, because-- oh. 
Your hand was bleeding.
“Oh.”
“Oh god, I have to get you to a hospital-"
You froze. “That’s not necessary-” You didn’t have time for a hospital now. You needed to deliver the stupid papers; your hand had to wait, it didn’t look too deep, you’d be fine. Though it did kinda hurt, how had you missed that?
“What?!” the kid squeaked. “You’re bleeding! I should have done better, oh no-"
You felt a ridiculous urge to comfort him all of sudden, so you crossed the distance, boldly caressing his arm.
“Hey, no, you did great-"
“But you’re bleeding, miss— madam? I should probably go with madam-"
You pressed her lips together so you wouldn’t laugh at his babbling. Had he noticed your ring? Maybe it was your growing belly.
“It’s alright, Spiderman. You saved me from getting shot and mugged, that’s wonderful.”
He looked up. “So you’re not mad at me? Why don’t you want me to take you to the hospital then?”
“Because-"
“Of course! Karen, call mister Stark!” he blurted out, delighted he found a solution.
“What?!”
You wanted to ask who Karen was and where she had been hiding, but Stark’s name kinda caught your attention more urgently. Call Stark? You would hope he was talking about a different Stark, but this kid had some sort of a suit and was playing hero, so-
“It’s okay, he’ll help-” the boy was quick to reassure you, poor kid not having  clue why you did not want to see Tony Stark in the slightest.
“No!”
“He’s a good guy!”
“I don’t need-"
“Oh, Mr. Stark! Thank god. I have a woman— no, not a girlfriend, I mean-- no, not an experimental intimate stuff mentor-"
You almost choked on your own spit. Now you had no doubt he was talking to Tony freaking Stark, because he would make a remark like that. Wonderful. You hadn’t been interacting too much with Tony; in fact, you had only met once, the meeting being pretty intense, with blood, kidnapping and stuff.
“An injured one! She was almost mugged and she’s pregnant and she’s bleeding— from her hand!” he explained exasperatedly, gesturing wildly with his hands. “And she wouldn’t go to the hospital and she’s saying it’s not necessary, but-”
There was a short silence and you wondered what Tony was saying, where, when, how and WHY had he recruited a kid and what the hell was all this.
You checked the time, finding out you really needed to go.
“I’ll show you how she is. Karen, initiate a video call-"
“No! Wait!” you yelped, lunging after a non-existent phone, desperately wanting to stop him. Oh no, please, you so didn’t have time for Tony Stark. You were sure that if Stark saw you, he would recognize you and-
“Mr. Stark is saying I should definitely bring you-"
-and would want you to come. 
You raised your hands in defensive gesture. “I’m walking away.”
You looked around, gathered your handbag and stuff, spun on your heels-
“No way! Mr. Stark thinks you need medical attention-"
“I’ll make sure he needs medical attention unless I’m walking away.,” you growled loudly, more annoyed than anything else. “I really need to deliver these papers-"
“Oh! Where?! I’ll drop them off for you, madam! Maybe it’s even on our way! Where do you need them?”
You were so stunned you stuttered an address.
“Great! Let’s go!”
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Part 2 (final)
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Thank you for reading!
(This is an oldie, might feel a bit different than my usual stuff)
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Ramble away, cause I feel the twisted head rot, I kinda wanna see what you think about our bois. ~ a pocket sized dragon hops in excitement.
A POCKET SIZED DWAGOOOOOONNNN 😭💞💞💞 That’s so BLESSED, and tysm omg, I’m very glad to just spill out my barking on every boy, bc yEAH THE BRAIN ROT SKDHAKDB
THE BRAIN ROT IS SO REAL LOL
Everything I breathe ends up relating to TWST in some way, like at this point just let me take my friends, cousins, and pets, and of course Lulu and Seb, and I will have 1. A Gottdamned Harem, 2. So Many Children, and 3. NEVER WANT TO LEAVE. Kwfhskdhjwek
Ok this is gonna be long bc I gotta cover all my boys, so rip lol.
Dorm Leads:
Riddle
GOD, my Fucking Baby, my CHILD, my SWEET BABY BOY, I’M 👁💧👄💧👁
I would die for him, beetch, he is PRECIOUS ♥️
He reminds me of how I feel Ciel would behave if S/O took the place as Sebastian’s contracee, too, so like 🥺 Lots of feels 😭
Is Son, I have adopted him now. If you mistreat him, don’t ever speak to me or my son ever again. I’ll FIGHT his MOM, don’t TEST me. I’m his new mom now. His BIRD mom. So proud of him, he’s like...one of the few that’s actually shown growth in canon after his overblot kshdkadjs
Leona
👁💧👄💧👁
.....I am a Mere Simp....
Ya’ll.... I swearh to ghOD I simped hard for Scar back when I was a wee thing, I did NOT expect to simp for him AGAIN LATER IN LIFE, what the FUCK aidhskdhskdj
Like shit bitch, damn, you may not be king of Afterglow honey, but you can be king of my heart if you wAnt to bb....
Leona: *smiles once, even if it’s smugly*
Me: *WEEPING* Look at hiiiiiiim!! My sunshine booooooy! 😭
Does this make me a furry
Probably
I am too Simp to Care Anymore
I HESITATED TO GET ATTACHED BC THIS BOY LOOKS LIKE A FUCKIN WOMANIZER IF I EVER SAW ONE, BUT HE DRINKS HIS RESPECT WOMEN JUICE EVERY SINGLE MORNING AND I WAS A GONNER SNDJAJDHSJ
FUCK
Call me a Herbivore again, bully me //SLAPPED
Azul
He secretly a lil shit sometimes, but tha’s ok, it’s mostly in a silly way, especially post overblot~ UvU
The sweetest bby everytime I read fanposts on him, like god, ah 💜💜💜 WHOMST COULD BULLY SUCH A CUTE CHUBBY OCTOBABY I’LL FIGHT ALL OF EM!! A sweetheart 10/10 would be his friend 💗 Not making contracts with him tho, lol
...ok maybe SOME after his overblot, but they’re able to be easily reversed now, so it’s way more chill andhsjdj
Kalim
FUCK!!!! F U C K!!!! BABYYYYYYY!!!! BABY!!!! I HAVE ADOPTED HIM IF YOU TOUCH HIM YOU D I E
He is literally so sweet, anytime anyone was like “you’re so nice it’s annoying” I WAS READY TO COME FLYING IN TO BITCH SLAP THEM LIKE AJDHSKDHSJ (even if I also loved them lol)
Like NO you are WRONG whfksjd
He has also grown so much, and I am proud ♥️🧡
Vil
Jesus Christ, canon Vil is Hurting Meeeeee ajdhskdhsj
My fave fanon Vil is the one that recognizes all different types of beauty, though~ uvu and is v encouraging to anyone that may be struggling with self hatred 💜
Canon: Vil is pretty~.
Me: Wow, wtf???? He IS so pretty... How rude I didn’t think you were serious! Wow him??? Pretty??? Wow??? Wow...
Idia
I’m not sure yet, as I haven’t seen him very often, but of the few times that I have: BIG same, huge mood, and Me FUCKING Too, goddamn akdhakdj
Idia is my Anxiety and Anime Nerd personified tbh lol
What Ortho is to him are what all my comfort characters are to me, honestly.
Like what would you like bby, you want that singing voice?? Ok here comes a synthesizer just special for you~. Ily, mwah~ u3u 💕
Malleus
HEAVY BREATHING
Ok maybe it’s just the lack of story/info out on him yet, but I don’t currently simp as hard for him compared to Leona, I’ll admit jajdkajd
BUT BOY HOWDEY DO I EVER STILL S I M P...
He Is Baby... And I Lob Him....
I am going to smooch those horns and forehead crown of beautiful scales 🖤🖤🖤 I am going to do it!!!! Here I go!!!
HE CAN HAVE ALL THE ICE CREAM AND TAMAGATCHI DATES HE WANTS I’M- 😭
This man is too precious for words, and I have so much childhood nostelgia to ‘enchanted’ woods, and being in the mountains, so he has Old Fae Friend vibes to me~🖤
DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON F-
Ngl I ship him and Leona a lil bit lol
No, not just bc that makes a poly with my two faves easier, but that is a bonus factor jadhajdj
Vice Dorm Heads:
Trey
Oh my god, the Daddy to my Mommy with all these newly adopted lil kids of ours, ya know??? What a wholesome sweetie and funny lil shit jahdksdh~
I love him, I would gladly make tarts with, AND for him 💚💚💚
The kind of boi who I’d ship HARD with anyone he started dating bc My God it would warm my heart So Much 💞💞
Ruggie (unofficial but may as well be at this point lol)
He took a while to grow on me kadhskdhsj
But I think he’d be a sweet, if a trouble-maker of a friend to have~.
Dank you for taking care of my sweet lion bby, honey, I’m sure Farrena is a sweetheart, but boi I hope he gets his shit together to fix up where Ruggie lives 😭
I think if I met his granny, I’d CRY jadhajsh 💗💗
Leech Twins (?)
Idk if they’re vice leaders, but who cares lol
THESE are the older Big Brothers in every sense of the word. (My canon ages most everyone up just a bit, save for Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Kalim, Jamil, Cheka, and anyone already 20+)
The ANNOYING older big brothers, lol.
The ones that hug you to death (Floyd), or use you for an arm rest (Jade), and specifically Do the thing you asked/told them NOT to Do.
This is fine with me tho, I’m an only child, please give me the experience of annoying older brothers lol 💙💚
Jamil
I used to hate you bby, I’m so sorry akdhskdhs
I’ve adopted him now, and I’m v proud he’s trying, but making clear what his boundaries are, and trying to come out of a shell he was made to be in for so long 😭
AND HIS DANCING IS SICK LIKE HONESTLY I’M SUCH A PROUD MOM 💗💗💗
Rook
God. FUCKING Rook, lol.
IDK IF I SHOULD TRUST YOU, but I also kinda wanna be your friend akdhakdjs
HE CONCERNS ME but he also seems nice and v sweet sometimes, lmao
Blz don’t stalk me tho 😬
STOP SHOOTING YOUR ARROWS AROUND SCHOOL YOU BLOODY HEATHEN FRENCH PRISS, YOU ARE GOING TO KILL SOMEONE
Also, if he DARES hunt cute animals around me, especially BIRDS, I am going to GRIP him jahdkahdsk
He’s like if Lord Druitt was a Little More Nice and a Little Bit Less Creepy ajdhak
Lilia:
GOD.
I LOVE THIS FUCKING GRANDPA.
I. FUCKING. LOVE. THIS FUCKING. GRANDPA.
I absolutely hc him as nonbinary w/masc pronouns, I absoLUTELY do.
I adore him, I love him, I haven’t gotten a squish (hardcore desire to be someone’s friend, lol) this hard for a character since AngelDust, I-
Pwease be nonbinary friends with me, Lilia 🥺
THE ONLY PERSON HERE SHORTER THAN ME, BUT I’LL TAKE IT AJDHAKDHJS
Anyone know Corpse and how he plays Among Us? That’s how I see Lilia playing his video games with friends and I JUST I JUST I J U S T
The Spencer to your Carly.
He and Crowley are free to compete as Dad with me too like honestly kshdkadjjs
He’ll always be granpa tho uvu 💚💖🖤
Extras:
Ace
God, the Fucking Annoying Middle Brother that pranks you ALL THE DAMN TIME, but I love him andhakdhsk
Deuce
THE BROTHER THAT WILL BEAT UP YOUR BULLIES 💙💙💙 SWEET BABY BOY
The Josh to Ace’s Drake. The Cody to Ace’s Zack. The Freddie to your Carly and Ace’s Sam.
If he and Ace started dating, tho, I would CRY.
But regardless who they end up dating, it’ll be slow burn friends to lovers, and literally the most adorable shit to watch EVER 💞💞💞😭
Cater
Seems Like A Womanizer But Actually Drinks His Reapect Women Juice And We Stan That 🧡
Can always count on him to help tou get the best Magicram shots, bless you Cater 🧡🧡
Also rly wanna be his friend, ngl 😭 Even IF he pranks me a lot kadhakdhsj
Jack:
H E AV Y BR EA T H IN G
Ngl my feelings for him are in the air IDK IF I WANNA SMOOCH OR NOT YET I JUST KNOW I LOB HIM HE GOODEST BESTEST BOY 💛💛💛😭
If all three Savannaclaw bois got in a cuddle pile with me, I would Not Be Mad
How can I give this boy love, tell me and I will Do It
Gift him all the cacti’s he WANTS💛
God he drinks that respecc women juice bright and early on his run every morning, you KNOW he does 💛💛💛
I wawnt to pet his ears an tail an fwuffy wolf form 😭
I WAWNT TO SEE THE BOY SMILE AND BE HAPPY 💞💞💞
Sebek
CHILL CHILL CHILL CHILL CH-
He is a v devoted guard tho, we love to see it UvU
I don’t have more info on him hekdhskdj but his fanmade content seems v v sweet~ 💚
Silver
HE ATTRACTS BIRDS AND I CRY ABOUT IT PLEASE BE MY FRIEND AND TEACH ME HOW 🥺🥺🥺
Him being raised by Lilia and Malleus literally gives me so much Fucking Seratonin....... God 💞💕💗💗💞💞💗💗💕💞
Ortho
IS BABY????? IS BABY!!!!!! I’M LOVE HIM I’M ADOPTING HIM IS BABYYYYYYY 💙💙💙💙💙
Cheka:
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-
He is so FUCKING CUTE what the FUCK!
Leonaaaaaaa... 🥺 Your NEPHEWWWWW 😭
I might steal him from Farrena tbh, lIKE MY CHILD NOW~ 🧡🧡
I just sob and hug him every time I see him honestly 😭
Teachers:
Dire Crowley
Ohhhhhh god oh god oh god
Be my dad. Please. Be my dad. PLEASE be my dad. Ya’ll think I’m joking, I’m not. Please adopt me. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
This man as a father gives me so much dopamine and oxytocin and seratonin??? I have been weeping for WEEKS, please adopt me, Sir
Fathers with zero braincells being wrapped around a daughter’s little finger makes me so weak, and I am just here with Daddy Issues like ajdhakdhsj BLEASE ADOPT ME MISTER BIRD MAN
Crewel
Ew.
Forgive me, I haven’t seen much content with him in it/that could be considered wholesome, bUT JADHWKDJSJ
UncoMFORTABLE
Please keep the kink talk out of the classroom, S I R
Call me puppy one more time, see what happens, I’m not scared to fight a teacher akdhakdhsj
Trein
The Dad Figure that tries to be the stern part to Crowley’s blumbering kahdkqrhsjdj
Don’t feel as much attachment to him emotionally, but I like him~
Just let me pet your cat sometimes and give you holiday presents, and we’re cool~ ♥️
Vargas
Found the womanizer //SMACKED
And of course, I can’t forget Grim~!
He’s grown on me, and if anything happens to him I will kill everyone in the room, and then myself 😭
I will pet and snuggle and hold him all he wants and feed him all the tuna his heart desires uvu 💙
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