#my drawings actually turned out decent and i think that helped too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rinneroraito · 29 days

Text

sobering up

almost 3K words, rejection, continuation of this

I actually don’t remember when I woke up, I just realized my eyes were open and I was staring at the off-white ceiling of the headquarters’ office. Dawn was breaking, evident by the soft rays of light coming in through the room by the gaps in the curtains. A sharp pang starts up in my head like I was wearing a crown of thorns around my skull and I wince in pain, hissing as I draw in a slow breath. The blanket that was draped over me falls off of my shoulders while I slowly get up from the couch. Every movement made my eyes go out of focus, the shooting pain setting off flashes of light behind my dry eyes. I never knew even blinking would become laborious in my state.

Fuck, I forgot to hydrate myself last night when I drank…

Turning my neck carefully to the side, I could see a tray with a bottle of sports drink and what seems to be a painkiller on the coffee table. I gingerly reached out to take the drink and the medicine, hoping it would be enough to relieve me of my hangover. The silver casing of the ibuprofen makes a popping sound as I break it and shove the pill between my lips. I finish the entire bottle of sports drink and I lean back into the couch, nursing my headache. The humming of L’s computers and the clacking from his keyboard are the only things I could hear along with my breathing. Concentrating on these sounds I fall asleep again.

—

The sunlight coming through the windows of the office sting my cheeks and I wake up once more, slowly straightening myself up from my position. As I look around with my bleary eyes, I see L at the other side of the room, still working. I grabbed the blanket off of the floor and hung it loosely over the arm of the couch. The pounding in my head from my initial awakening has slightly abated.

Well, I didn't forget what I did last night though, that's for sure. There goes my dignity. Great going, Rinne, you’ve shamelessly confessed to L that you had a crush on him. Why did you even do it? You didn’t even need to drink that much last night, you stupid, stupid girl. Why couldn’t you stay in your room and sleep? What does he think of me now? Does he think that maybe I’m just a fangirl fawning over him? Good lord, am I going to be taken off of this investigation? Fuck…

I don’t even notice myself hunching over with my hands covering my face, palms pressed to my cheeks so hard as if trying to force the embarrassment I felt back into the recesses of my mind where I couldn’t find them.

Goddamnit, Rinne, why are you such an idiot with your feelings… Stupid, stupid alcohol. Stupid, stupid, drunk Rinne… He’s not some ordinary guy, he’s the fucking Greatest Detective in the World, you can’t just willy-nilly go up to him like that and-

“Good morning, Miss Uehara.”

My head snaps up so fast that my mouth hangs open as I look at L. Hearing his voice almost sobered me up, but seeing his stoic face made my ears burn as blood started to rush to my head in mortification. I look away and frantically wipe the corners of my eyes with my fingers, hoping my face looked decent enough to him.

“Good morning, Detective…”

“Are you sober? Is there anything else you need to aid with your hangover or was the Ibuprofen and sports drink enough?”

“I um…” I hesitated before answering, clawing at my hair to smooth it over my shoulder, my eyes distant. “No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“You always seem to hesitate with communicating your needs, Miss Uehara. Does having your necessities catered to make you feel too much like a burden?”

Sometimes I wished he wasn’t as observant and as perceptive as he was, hearing him say it out loud made me want to retort at him but my hangover was keeping my attitude in order.

“Fine, I guess I could have some warm broth, a soda and another sports drink…”

“Soda? For a hangover?”

“It helps with the nausea.”

“Alright, I’ll have Watari bring them up. Please remember not to be reluctant with making your needs known, it’ll make things less complicated for you.” He takes out a phone from his jeans pocket and starts to give instructions to Watari while my mind is still stuck with his last sentence.

That’s easier said than done…

He’s blunt with his words and is indifferent towards how people will take them, and I’m no exception from that kind of treatment. I’m just another one of the Task Force members working with (or more like under) him after all, another tool in his arsenal.

“Thanks, I’ll try to remember that.”

He shoves the phone back into his pocket before leaning towards my direction to speak again.

“How much time do you need to sober up for?”

“I am sober, the ibuprofen is doing its job with the headache.”

“Sober enough to hold a proper conversation with me?”

There it is. The confrontation I’ve been dreading.

My body immediately felt cold as the air in the office seemed to freeze around me. I hadn’t even noticed that I wasn’t looking at his face since I greeted him, realizing my eyes had been glued to the now-empty bottle of sports drink on my hands. My thumb goes over the ridges on the plastic as I begin to feel the thorns around my skull loosen up, not from the painkiller but from this whole interaction we were having.

“You waste no time, do you? Of course you don’t,” I remarked sullenly, still staring at the ridges on the plastic bottle I held.

“I would like to clear the air between us as soon as possible.”

“Yea, I figured.”

“Miss Uehara, please look at me.”

The hesitation is evident from the stretch of silence that extends between the two of us as I continue to scratch at the ridges of the plastic bottle with a nail, refusing to look up at him. I didn’t want him to dig out the shame from my expressions no matter how blank I tried to keep my face, nor did I want him to look at me. Not with those eyes of his.

What he does next surprises me as he crouches down on the floor, tilting his head to the side so he could meet my gaze.

There they are, those sharp unblinking eyes, boring holes through my defensive aversion.

“I can answer you without needing to look at you, Detective…”

“I know, but I’d like to gauge your expressions just to make sure you’re not lying to me.”

I meet his eyes briefly, gritting my teeth.

“Lying by omission is still lying, Miss Uehara.”

You son of a bitch.

With the enthusiasm of a cat being given a bath, I stared back at him, trying my best to match his neutral expression.

“Do you remember what you told me last night?”

“I do.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

He looked down for a moment, and when he looked back up at me he had a thumb pressed to his lips.

“Miss Uehara, are you actually infatuated with me, or was it just a case of drunken rambling?”

The crunch of the empty plastic bottle tears through the morning silence as my grip on it tightens. Fuck. I straighten myself up on the couch, wringing the poor bottle with both hands now in an attempt to keep myself emotionally intact. I wanted to answer, but no words came out. I wasn’t even looking at him again; my eyes stayed on the now-mangled piece of plastic that used to be a bottle of sports drink. I feel like throwing up.

“Miss Uehara-”

He sounded too close and I whipped my head to the side to see that he had perched himself next to me. His proximity caused me to flinch back, keeping a significant amount of space between us.

“Answer my question, please.”

L is persistent, unbearably stubborn, and for the few weeks that I’ve worked with him I know now that I can’t just drop this conversation. He won’t let it go until he gets the truth out of me.

“Fine,” I started, peering back into his piercing stare apprehensively.

“I am infatuated with you, Detective. What are you going to do about it?”

There was a scathing quality to the way I said the last sentence. Why was I so angry about this whole situation anyway? Is it actually anger or just annoyance over the fact that my confession came out severely underprepared out of a drunken impulse, and I have to face the consequences of it now?

He observes me unblinkingly as he brings his thumb between his teeth and gnaws at it for a moment before speaking again. “I see. Miss Uehara, allow me to be completely honest with you.”

The couch gives just a little when he leans closer to me. I felt my breath hold, my hands growing clammy around the mangled plastic bottle.

“Do not be mistaken, I am flattered that you find me as someone you could be fond of, even though I am now questioning your taste in men. That aside, I am in no place to return your affection, as I do not feel the same.”

The breath I had been holding comes out as a gasp. Was it out of relief? Shock? I wasn’t sure, but I started to laugh.

What was I expecting? That he’d entertain me just because I liked him? We’re in the middle of a fucking investigation that literally spells life or death for everyone involved and here I was, hoping that he felt the same? Oh, oh… I’m laughing because this whole thing was funny, and I was being stupid. He probably thinks I’ve gone mad.

The poor Detective looked bewildered by my reaction as I tried to pull myself together, raising a finger at him to give me a minute.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. Um, it’s stupid, isn’t it? But yeah, don’t worry about it, you don’t need to return my feelings nor acknowledge them, we’ve got more pressing matters on our hands.”

“I am sensing a hint of passive aggression in your tone.”

“Just-” I squeezed my cheeks with my palms before I continued speaking. “Listen to me, Detective. I think part of the reason I came here last night and did what I did was because I wanted to get that off of my chest no matter how you’d take it. I did it drunk because I knew deep down I’d never feel brave enough to admit any of that to you while sober. Confronting me about it now is jarring, to say the least, because it’s something I decided to do on impulse without any thought. It’s also hard for me to explain to you that the truth is, I just started pouring my heart out to you because I was drunk and it felt…right.”

Our conversation gets briefly interrupted by Watari who arrives with a tray of the items L requested from earlier. He silently sets them down on the coffee table before us, takes the blanket from the arm of the couch where I hung it, nods and then leaves. I took this small break as an opportunity to grab the new bottle of sports drink and take a few swigs from it. L looks away for a moment, chewing on the nail of his thumb. Everything probably gets rolled around in his mind a hundred times before he decides on the most logical explanation to an incident, and I wonder… Is that why he keeps eating sweets at work, to keep his brain running? What does he think of when he’s not busy trying to solve a case? Is he doing the same thing with my “confession”? He just outright told me that he does not feel the same. Am I actually taking his rejection well? What else am I expecting?

What am I expecting?

“I feel like I’m not making sense and I’m just rambling again. Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I understand. At least, I understand what you’re trying to convey.”

“Okay… Sure?”

“It’s not stupid, Miss Uehara, and I value your straightforwardness. You’ve also told me last night that you might start to feel awkward around me due to your confession, so I assume they really are your honest feelings. You were the very first person to approach me and express your sentiments about me outside of my investigative work. To be honest, I would still like to ask you out, that hasn’t changed from the first time I met you but the circumstances we’re currently in will not allow us such a dalliance…”

L pauses, thumbing his bottom lip. My eyes stay locked on his as rays of sunlight pass through the gaps in the curtains. The light scattered on one side of his face, and I could feel the heat on my cheek, too. It takes me a while to realize what he just said and I now question if the warmth I was feeling on my cheeks were from the sunlight or the blood rushing to my face. My legs start to bounce.

Oh …

“When I said I did not feel the same way about you, I meant that whatever you might be feeling towards me is something I cannot reciprocate at the moment. I find you attractive, and I am impressed by your abilities as an investigator, but I do not feel the way you do about me, and I believe a certain amount of reciprocity is required for two people to connect. You deserve that much, and I am not the person for that.”

He held my gaze steadily while he spoke and he looked away as soon as he finished, thumbing his bottom lip. My face was burning at this point and I brought a hand up to squeeze my cheeks together, placing the bottle of sports drink back on the table. Unspoken words hang in the air of the morning for a few moments, the silence so thick it was almost palpable. I glance at the World’s Greatest Detective whose elbows rested on his knees, still deep in thought.

“Thank you for your honesty, Detective,” I finally replied.

“You’re welcome.” “Now I wish I could have taken you up on your offer that first time we met. Maybe things would be different now.”

“There’s no use crying over spilled milk, Miss Uehara.”

“I know, Detective, I know. I’ll just enjoy whatever time I get to spend with you, I guess.”

He looks back at me, his piercing eyes a mysterious dark lake I’m trying to wade into.

“Just because you rejected me doesn’t mean I’ll stop liking you immediately, you know? It takes a while for feelings to disappear,” I continue.

“You’ll be hurt.”

“I’m hurt now.”

For some reason, the statement appears to have caught him off guard, and he takes his time responding.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and I wonder if it was genuine or something just out of his accustomed courtesy.

“It’s part of the entire thing, not exactly new to me.”

“Why would you willingly put yourself in a situation where you’ll be hurt? Is the payoff truly worthwhile for something as risky as a romantic relationship?”

My eyes trail off to the bowl of warm broth I had requested earlier and I take it with both hands, sipping directly from it completely disregarding the spoon that came with it.

“Because it’s exciting, fulfilling to me in a way and in my experience, yes. It is worth it.”

I could feel him staring at me as I pondered over the bowl before taking a few more sips from it. Then I realized something from the question he just asked.

He’s never been in a relationship before, has he?

The bowl feels warm on my palms as I return my gaze to L.

“You’ve never been romantically involved with someone, Detective?”

“No, I never had the time to nurture one. It would be pointless as I’d only be neglecting them due to my work.”

“Hm, that makes sense. There’s also the danger attached to being connected to you, and becoming a liability.”

There’s a solemn quality to his expression as he nods.

Was this a man who has completely accepted his lonely fate of solving crime because it’s what he liked to do and was good at? Was Watari the only constant human connection he’s had his whole life? Did he really just spend most of his time solving crime after crime, mystery after mystery? Was he never really going to take a chance at…

Rinne, stop it.

Why are you still hoping? Stop it.

We’re silent for a while. My legs stop bouncing momentarily as I settle the now empty bowl of broth back on the coffee table. I then grab the can of soda and crack it open, the pop and fizz ringing out in the warmth and awkwardness of the atmosphere.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks in his familiar monotone.

“Yeah, sobering up,” I reply, bringing the can up to my mouth.

The soda wasn’t cold enough.

#death note #l lawliet #death note l #l death note #l my beloved #oc x canon #l lawliet x reader #whipquip #RinneL #l lawliet x y/n #fanfiction #death note fanfiction

52 notes · View notes

oftenwantedafton · 2 months

Text

Kismet - Dave Miller/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 4

Word Count - 3k

Rating - Explicit

CW - sexual content

Also available on AO3

Dave Miller is waiting for you in the campus parking lot outside of the building you’ve just had your anatomy exam inside.

You can see him leaning against the driver’s side door, his hands shoved into his pockets. Still dressed in his security guard uniform. It’s hot out. You squint against the glare of the sun as you exit, maneuvering your way down the handicapped ramp using the crutches he’d lent you earlier. They’re awkward, a little tricky to get used to, but they do help. Your ankle was actually a lot better today, but you’d also been resting it for awhile now, so you don’t want to push it and ruin the recovery process.

“How did it go?” He greets you when you reach his car.

You draw in a deep breath, then exhale. “I think I did okay. I hope. That was worth a quarter of my grade.”

”I’m sure you did well.” He opens the rear passenger door and you slide the crutches inside across the back seat, followed by your backpack. The vintage luxury sedan had a spacious interior, hailing from an era where things were built bigger, with the intention of showing off, ignoring things like fuel efficiency and compact sizing. Not what you would have envisioned him driving; it just didn’t suit his aesthetic. So at odds with the bike gear, with the sport motorcycle itself.

“So where do you want to go?” You’ve both settled inside the car. The vinyl seats are warm, clinging to the bare skin on the backs of your thighs. You’d worn denim shorts and a tank top today. You don’t know how the older man can stand being so covered up. Maybe something to do with those strange marks he has on him. You want to ask about them, the query nearly forcing its way past your lips on more than one occassion, but you’re still hesitant, uncertain if it was the right time to ask yet.

“You must be tired.” The smudges beneath his eyes still persist. You wonder when the last time he actually got some decent rest was.

“I took a cat nap while you were taking your test. I’m good for now.”

“Let’s go to your house.” You try to make it sound casual, surprising yourself when the words slip out. A little forward, inviting yourself over.

“My house?” A mixture of his own surprise laced with some amusement as well. “On a day like this I thought you’d want to be outdoors.”

“It’s too hot.”

“It’s summer in Utah. It’s always too hot,” he counters.

“Touché.”

“Seriously, though. Where do you want to go?”

You pretend to reconsider, biting your bottom lip, eyes fixing upward. “Mmmm…your house.”

“Okay. If that’s what you really want.” He turns the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life. “Seatbelt on, please.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You drag the nylon strap across your chest, shoving the buckle into place. The material digs into your bare shoulder, pressing between your breasts.

“You’re back to work on Friday, right?” He pulls out of the parking lot, heading north out of the city proper. The opposite direction from where you reside.

“Yes.”

“You think you’re going to be okay getting there?”

“I should be good.”

“Ill give you my number just in case. You should have it anyway.”

“Yeah, I should.” He glances over at you, smirking.

You fuss with the radio for a bit, rummaging with the cassette tapes stashed into the console. A lot of music from the eighties. Something else you don’t recognize shoved way in the back. A large plastic cartridge with a faded peeling label that’s water damaged, the paper wrinkled. “What’s this?”

“Eight track. A largely inferior way to listen to music.”

“So why do you keep it?”

“I had no idea that was there, to be honest.” The car rolls to a stop at the next intersection, the traffic light turning red. “Is this what you’re going to do at my house? Snoop through my things?”

“You said to get to know you. So, this is getting to know you.”

“Hmmm.” He doesn’t sound upset, exactly. Mulling the situation over, perhaps. Deciding what he was willing to reveal.

You toss the item back where you found it. “I know what you did.”

Dave’s eyes snap to your face. “What?”

“They got an anonymous donation of an AC unit at the shelter. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Something like relief washes over the guard’s features, the tense shoulders relaxing. “Oh. That. Yes, that was me. Couldn’t have the bun and the others suffering.”

“What did you think I meant?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. I don’t know.”

Another mystery for you to solve. You tentatively lift each leg off the seat. Sticking already. There was no air conditioning in his car. The windows were rolled down, but with the automobile at a standstill there was no air exchange.

“The downside to vinyl,” he murmurs, seeing your struggles. “There really isn’t an upside. In the winter it’s like sitting on ice.”

“You need a new car.”

“It serves its purpose.”

The light turns green and he shifts his foot from the brake to the gas pedal. At least it was an automatic. You didn’t even know how to drive a standard.

His right hand departs the steering wheel and finds its way to your knee once you’ve left the city behind.

Just a casual reach and drop, that long extremity having no trouble stretching until his fingers close over the bare joint, thumb tracing small circles.

Your body is already reacting. You squirm in your seat, shifting down a little, his hand easing further up with the movement. Now half on bare skin, half on the jean covering. Thumb now worrying at the frayed edges of the hole at the front. Tucking inside. Fingers pressing firmly along your inner thigh. You suck in a deep breath.

You can see the profile of a smile on his features. His eyes never leave the road as his hand meanders further along, stopping just shy of your crotch. Your heart is pounding. Waiting for him to touch the seam there, grind it against you clothed sex.

Instead his hand abandons you, reclaiming its position on the steering wheel and you look at him, mouth open in disbelief.

He shoots you a hurried glance. “What?”

“You know what.”

“There are a lot of turns coming up. I’ll need both hands. We’re almost there,” he adds.

You fold your arms. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Don’t pout.”

“Or what? What are you going to do about it?” Whatever retort he’s readied dies off when you reach over to exact revenge, digging your nails into his thigh. Raking along the inside. You have to lean, you don’t have the length that he does.

“You are…”

“I’m what? What am I?”

He brakes at a stop sign and thumbs the arm of the turn signal even though there are no other cars in sight. The neighborhood looks quiet, a good distance between the houses. Large yards. Lots of trees. Shade. Privacy.

“Unexpected.” He surprises you with how fast he moves, cupping the side of your face and kissing you. Your stomach somersaults, your core throbbing in response. “Addictive,” he adds, kissing you again before he returns his attention to driving.

***

Miller’s house is a three bedroom Garrison with an attached two car garage.

You’re in that garage now, gaining entry once he’d pushed the button on the remote slotted on the sun visor overhead. You see his bike parked inside and a lot of the typical clutter you’d expect. Workbenches. Tools. You’re trying to picture the guard working on a housing project, doing something mundane like mowing the lawn, an expansive front one that rests on an incline, the house set uphill and far back from the road. Finding it impossible to reconcile the image.

There are a few steps into the house. Dave unlocks the door and doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up in his arms again. You laugh, murmuring a little protest that you can manage the task but he persists. You’re carried into a living room and gently deposited onto the nearby couch. It’s dark inside the house. Cooler. A lot of trees surround the property. It’s a relief after the heat outdoors.

“Want something to drink?”

“Yes, that’d be great.” You adjust the pillow beside you, looking around the room while you wait. It’s very modern. Gray and black and white. No pops of color. No personality to reveal what the owner liked. Coffee table devoid of magazines. Bookshelves lacking literature or decor. No pictures on the walls. No plants. It looked like an artist’s unfinished sketch. Waiting to be filled in.

Dave returns with two glasses full of ice submerged in amber liquid. Tea, you realize, taking a sip. “Good,” you say, nodding. He sets a couple of beverage napkins down on the table. There’s already a copious amount of condensation on the side of the glass.

He sits down beside you with a sigh, toeing off his shoes. “You can take yours off if you want. I’m not fussed about where you leave them. And I’m sure you want a break from that bandage.”

You nod, setting your drink down to unlace your shoes, then removing the metal clasps that kept the elastic wrap in place, unwinding the clinging fabric. A little bit of an impression where it had been hugging your skin, but the joint was mostly free of the swelling and redness from before.

You lean back against the cushions, picking up your glass again as you settle back. “Your house is nice. I mean, judging from what I’ve seen of it so far. Empty, though.”

“It’s easier to maintain that way. I don’t need the clutter.” He takes a swallow of his drink. “I’ll give you a more extensive tour when you’ve fully recovered. Unless you want to be carried around,” he adds with a smirk.

“I’m not that crippled. I can limp around pretty well now,” you reply defensively. “What do you do when you’re not working? There’s a lot of stuff in the garage.”

He nods. “Yes. That. I like…building things. I was an engineer once.”

“Really?” You’re surprised. Something else you couldn’t picture him doing. “What do you construct?”

“Oh, this and that. I haven’t completed anything in awhile. I’ve been…occupied.”

“With what?” The cool liquid slips down your throat.

“Some pretty young college girl that came into my path one day.”

You blush at the compliment.

The dark haired man’s drink is already finished. He tucks his thumb and index finger inside of it, tipping it slightly to retrieve one of the melting ice cubes, popping it between his lips.

You can hear him rolling it around on his tongue. The soft click when it collides with his teeth. You can’t stop staring, hypnotized. He sets the glass on the table and rests an elbow on the back of the couch, the fist he makes supporting his head. Watching you. Waiting.

Your half finished drink is back on the table. Your mouth back on his. A little humming noise from him. Satisfaction. Your tongue spears his lips. Chilled from the ice. He offers the remainder to you. Pushing it inside your mouth. That wedge of networked muscles chasing back after it. Relinquishing it. Trading back and forth. You have possession of it now, letting it rest in the curve you create as you offer it back to him. His lips close over your tongue and suck, dragging it back into his own maw.

You’re both breathing heavily. That satisfied smirk is back on his lips again. He’s swallowed whatever remained of the ice, his Adam’s apple shifting with the movement. His eyes are solid black, the rings of gray completely obliterated by the overwhelming dilation of his pupils. There’s a pulse in your sex, beating to match your heart. Every time you’re with him, you find yourself forgetting more and more of the misgivings you’d had earlier. Smothered beneath this layer of desire.

“Ask me something.” His head is propped up on his fist again, back to the casual waiting that you know is a front.

“What’s under this?” You run your fingers over his shirt sleeve. You’re going to ask him now. “The marks. What are they?”

“You want to see them?”

“Yes.”

A pause as he considers. Then that lean form lifts from the couch. Fingers working on the buttons sealing the sleeve cuffs and loosening the knot of his tie. Buckle of pants unfastened, making room at the waist to drag the shirt hem from where it’s tucked inside. The row of buttons down the center now released, pulling each arm out of the sleeves, letting the garment fall to the floor.

You stare at this display of undressing, watching raptly. Your eyes lock onto the scars on his forearms. A pair of rings almost like bracelets encircling his wrists. Circles dotted along each scarred bangle. Jagged lines streaking towards the elbows. Another bracelet ring. More streaks. The rest covered by the undershirt.

“What happened?” You lean forward for a better look, running your fingers lightly down his forearms.

“An accident at work years ago.”

“Yeah, but doing what?”

“A failure in one of the…construction projects.”

He’s still being evasive. “What kind of project?”

“A mechanical suit, of sorts.”

“Are there more scars?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“A lot of them?”

“Yes. Do they bother you?”

You shake your head.

He sits back down and you take another sip of your drink. Dave lifts the glass from your fingers, draining the rest of it. Retrieving another ice cube. Outlining you bottom lip with it as if it was a tube of lipstick. The cold water leaks down your chin, your throat. He licks along that line, pushing you deeper into the cushions at the back of the couch. The fingers holding the ice disappear beneath the neckline of your top, letting it slide down your spine.

“Dave, fuck, that’s cold!” You try to reach the offending object, lifting the bottom of your shirt.

“You’re not, though,” he murmurs, one hand snaking behind to assist you. You can feel the ice drop onto the couch. He doesn’t remove his hand, instead pinching at the hook and eye closures of your brassiere to unfasten it. “You’re so, so hot.” Back at your front now. The ice cube somehow pinched between his fingers again. Slid along your abdomen, making you gasp. He shoves the front of your tank top up, moving the bra with it, exposing your breasts. Now circling your areola, your nipples instantly peaking.

“Dave…” It’s the only coherent word you can form. Your brain is short circuiting, the blood flow shunted elsewhere. There’s water from the melted ice cube all over your torso. Sliding down your ribs and pooling in your umbilicus. You absently try to reach him, any part near his groin you can locate, but he halts you, lapping at your ear before he whispers into it.

“Mmm-mmm. Ladies first.” The waist of your shorts is suddenly looser as he unfastens the button fly and pulls down the zipper. You’re trying to recall what underwear you’re wearing, hoping it’s something cute. You hadn’t really planned on this happening. Not this fast, anyway.

“One of the benefits of riding the bike,” he begins, leaning to retrieve another ice cube, “is that your fingers get a good work out using the brakes, clutch, throttle. A lot of strength built up. Power.” He’s beneath your panties now, his fingers dragging the dissolving frozen object over your clit.

Your spine jerks, your hips lifting up. Bringing him further down the length of your sex. You don’t even recognize the sounds escaping your lips. A calloused thumb circling your clit, middle and ring finger shoving at your entrance, the ice cube tucked firmly between the bridge of his palm. Another spasm. Your wrap your fingers around his forearm, nails digging into the skin. His digits reach so much further than your own. Stretching even more. He massages your g spot with the pads of his fingers. Planting little kisses on your jaw. Watching you with those dark, dark eyes as you writhe and grind against him. The last of the ice gone. The strong pair of fingers inserted into your canal working in earnest, your pussy making obscene noises as it greedily sucks him deeper.

“Is it good?” He knows the answer, of course. He can’t possibly not, with the way your body is responding, the sounds that you’re making, the frantic touches of your hands, your mouth.

“Yes,” you manage to gasp.

“You like my fingers inside this hot cunt of yours?”

“Dave…fuck, yes.”

“Are you going to cum for me like a good girl?”

A whimper. It’s all you can muster. You feel his smile against your neck as his thrusting fingers increase their pace, your unhooded bud flicked mercilessly. Your free hand digs into the pillow now resting against your thigh. It’s so overwhelmingly hot. You’re on fire. Sweating. Spots in front of your eyes, like when you’ve been out in the sun and go indoors, your vision trying to adjust. But it’s all from the man touching you. Burning you. A final searing kiss and touch and you’re there, moaning into his mouth.

His hand remains buried in your sex, resting now, cupping the natural curve, fingers motionless, feeling your walls contract around him, the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through you. Softer kisses. Letting you drag air into your lungs in between them. Eventually removing his hand from your panties and you struggle to sit upright.

“That was…um…Jesus, Dave.” He’s got the fingers that invaded you in his mouth now, slowly sucking them clean.

“Delicious.” He grins at you. “Good?”

“Yeah, good. More than good.” You’re still coming down off your high, trying to collect your thoughts. You can still feel the nerves firing in your pussy, in your thighs.

“You want another drink?”

“Definitely.”

“I don’t know how much ice is left. I’ll have to refill the tray.” He winks at you and you shove at his arm. Your touch gentling, stroking down the length. Sated and yet you still want more of him. “I like having you here,” he says quietly, sensing the shift in mood.

“I like being here.” You kiss him.

He moves as if to stand but you tighten your grip on his arm. “The drinks…”

“Can wait.”

A soft smile before he’s back at your mouth again.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #dave miller x you #dave miller x reader #william afton smut

29 notes · View notes

shy-lynn · 3 months

Text

Safe

(An RE4 remake Leon fanfiction)

cw: MDNI!, NSFW 18+, violence, gore, dark content, yandere

CHAPTER 4

I pull myself up from the couch, causing Leon’s arm to fall off of my shoulders.

It’s strange how much I trust this man that I barely know. I’ve always found it extremely difficult to trust anyone. How does this man have this kind of effect on me? Is it because he’s the first person to show me any resemblance of kindness for the first time in 9 months? I don’t know. But, what I do know is that I feel myself wanting to have a glass of wine. This time, I won’t let myself drink too much, but I need something to help this rattle in my bones. That last test that they did on me was horrible… It was excruciating. I can still feel it slightly in my body. I walk over to the wine shelf and try to remember which one Leon picked out the other night.

I think Leon must’ve noticed what I was thinking and quickly reached over my head to grab a bottle. It was black with a red label. He handed it to me, “Drinking tonight, huh?”

I nod my head and grab the bottle from him, “Yeah… I just…” Leon gave me a small smile and put his hand up to dismiss me.

“I understand why. I need a drink myself.” He says nonchalantly.

He grabs a whiskey bottle from the shelf and begins to pour himself a short glass of it. I gag at the smell of it, causing him to chuckle. He grabs the wine bottle back from my hand and pours me a glass of it.

“Do you ever drink anything besides whiskey?” I ask, the smell of it offending my nostrils.

Leon shrugged his shoulders before giving me a witty response, “Do you ever drink anything besides wine?” I giggle softly at what he said and grab the glass of wine from him.

I walk back over to the couch and sit down. I sip on the wine and feel it burn down my throat. I sigh deeply and place the glass on the coffee table. Leon sits next to me and gives me a look of concern, “Everything okay, (Y/n)?”

I shrug my shoulders, “I… don’t really know actually. I still feel that sensation in my bones. My body hurts so much. I’m also just really homesick now that I think about it.”

I frown and look down at my lap, trying my best to fight the tears from escaping my eyes.

Leon nods his head slowly and gets up to walk away. I see him walk upstairs and then return seconds later with the chocolate, “Here. Eat it. Maybe people are right about it helping them after that test. As for your homesickness… I don’t have much to offer. I’m sorry. But, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I want to make sure to not only keep you safe but to help you be more comfortable, alright? So, don’t be shy.”

Leon’s gentle words warms my heart and I nod my head and give him a small smile, “Thank you. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me so far.”

Leon gently pats my shoulder and then says, “Here, I have an idea. How about I draw you a warm bath? How does that sound?”

I smile at his gesture, “Uh, sure. That sounds… nice.” I say, hoping that maybe the warmth of the bath might actually help settle my bones.

He nods his head and stands up, ascends the stairs to the bathroom that’s in my bedroom and turns the facet on. He feels the water and gets it to a good temperature and adds some of the bubble bath that he saw sitting near the tub. He grabs some candles and lights them, places them around the tub as well.

After the water gets to a decent level, he shuts the water off and goes back downstairs, giving me a thumbs up to signal that my bath is ready. I giggle softly and go upstairs. He follows me and stops at the door to the bathroom and stands there awkwardly. I stare at him for a bit wondering why he’s still standing there.

“Well, enjoy your bath. Just… let me know if you need anything.” Leon said.

Leon turns to walk away but I stop him by saying, “Wait…” He turns back around and looks at me, his eyebrow raised.

“Can you… stay?” I immediately widened my eyes, and what I said completely shocked me. I don’t know why I said that. Why did I say that?

“I’m sorry… I think I just don’t want to be alone. You don’t have to stay. I know how weird of a request this is… I don't even know why I said that…” I trail off.

Leon furrowed his eyebrows, his face turning thoughtful and then turning soft, “No, it’s okay. I’ll stay if you want me to. Whatever makes you comfortable, okay?”

I begin to feel nervous and seriously wonder why I asked him to stay. I just met this man 4 days ago… What was I thinking? Have I been so deprived from human affection that I’ve become this desperate?

I think Leon started to notice my unease, “How about I just wait here in your bedroom for you to be done. I think your brain is still not acting right,” he said, chuckling slightly.

I breathe out sharply before nodding my head, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight.”

He waves his hand and shakes his head before turning to go sit on my bed. I close the bathroom door and get undressed, getting into the warm, fragrant bath water. I sigh as the warmth covers my body.

I close my eyes, trying to forget what just happened moments ago. He probably thinks I’m such a weirdo. Being chained to a bed with little to no human interaction for 9 months will turn you into a desperate, touch-starved, weirdo. That’s for sure.

After maybe 20 minutes, I decided to get out of the bath. I stand up to get out, but the bubble bath causes me to slip and fall. A loud bang sounded where I hit the side of my face on the hard tub.

Leon must’ve heard the sound, because he began knocking on the door, “Hey, you okay?”

I grab the side of my face and wince. I grab the towel and wrap it around my body. I sit down quickly on the floor, the impact of my face hitting the tub causing me to see double. I close my eyes, continuing to touch the side of my face, distracted by the overwhelming dizziness, I don’t answer Leon which causes him to worry. This time he’s banging on the door, and then enters; I guess I left the bathroom door unlocked. Seeing me on the ground, clutching my face, he hurries over.

“Did you fall? Let me see.” Leon carefully moves my hand out of the way so that he can study the extent of the injury, “You’ll most definitely have a bruise in the morning.” Leon sighs and gives me a strict but concerned look, “You have to be more careful, sweetheart. Can’t let you keep getting hurt.”

There he goes again with the ‘sweetheart’. The way he says it, causes my heart to melt. Everything he does causes my heart to melt. Wait… What am I even saying?

“I’m sorry, the tub was slippery.” I say nervously.

Leon chuckled, “You’re apologizing for slipping? Man, that guy really did do you over.” He then extends his hand out to me to help me up. I grab his hand, allowing him to help me to my feet. He then leaves my room to allow me to get dressed. I take my time getting dressed as I feel myself not wanting to face Leon again for a while at least...

I keep saying and doing things and thinking things that are causing me to embarrass myself in front of him.

I open the bathroom door and see Leon sitting on my bed, waiting for me, “Everything okay in that pretty head of yours?” He asks.

I turn my head away from his gaze as I feel a blush start to imprint on my cheeks, “Sorry, I just… I’m making a fool out of myself big time tonight. I want to blame it on those tests, but… It might just be a ‘me’ problem.”

Leon lets out a chuckle and shakes his head, “It’s not a big deal, you know. I understand that you’ve been through a lot. It’s not abnormal for your brain to be foggy for a few days afterward. Just… try and relax. Nothing you say or do is going to scare me off. I’ve been assigned this task and I’m going to do everything in my power to help you, okay?”

I remember now that this is just another assignment to him. He’s getting paid for this. He’s getting paid to practically babysit me.

I think part of me wishes that any other agent got assigned to my case, but I know he was the only one available. He’s just so… attractive. Maybe that’s why I keep making a fool out of myself. God, what am I even thinking? I have to remember that he’s only here to do his job. There’s no way that he could like me even if I wanted him to. I'm pretty sure it wouldn’t be allowed.

How long do we have to stay at this safe house? And how long is my brain going to act like this? I can’t handle another day here if I keep thinking about Leon in this way… Fuck, what do I do?

#leon kennedy #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil 4 remake #smut #yandere leon kennedy #re4 remake #re4 #leon s kennedy #resident evil #fanfiction #fanfic #18+ content #18+ only #18+ blog

33 notes · View notes

cookiesupplier · 7 months

Text

Hell Ain't So Bad - Part Two

pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, smut (eventually), angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of torture, thoughts of religious ideology, and swearing. – potential more to be added at stories progression

summary: Ellie is lost in the world, homeless and has been out of the world for so long in her mind she has no idea what to do and nowhere to go.. When the perfect opportunity falls into her lap, she doesn’t want to pass it up.. Turns out though, it might be a little bit stranger than she ever expected. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?

author’s note: Unbetaed, readers beware.. if you want to chat with me about ideas for this story I'm open to it, my asks are always open as well. I threw you a bone, Noah is there.. but not with Ellie lol

ALL COMMENTS ARE WELCOME. (my replies are broken I will reply via reblog to yours)

tags: Tags are open if anyone is interested.

Ellie offered Steven a smile in thanks before she moved past the door into the small office that he’d pointed her towards. It wasn’t anything special, not that she’d expected it to be. Places like this either went one of two ways. They were either simple down to earth, got the job done, or tried to show their accolades for every person and success story they’d had, and every person they’d managed to save.

She didn’t trust those people.

The office was empty though. Too Empty. It was Eerie.

Nicholas Ruffilo, he’d said. Okay.

Ellie glanced around, the office was pretty much the barest of bones, not even a photo to show anything other than a computer on his desk, a notepad and pen.. It gave the impression he’d walked in this morning, plonked it down this morning and said, this was good, let's work from here today, and yet.. Right there was a name plate.. But anyone could get one of those made, cheap. It was weird.

It made her nervous. How did she never notice this place before, right across from the clinic. Today had been so strange, so unnerving all around, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

A feeling she’d had since she’d yesterday.

Just when she was thinking that maybe she should listen to that feeling, when she turned to go, a coughing fit hit her, and she almost doubled over. She almost collapsed to the floor before a pair of arms caught her decent and guided her to sit in the chair across from the barely used desk. While she was hunched over trying to breathe, he moved to the side of the room, doing something, she was too focused on attempting to get air into her lungs to pay any mind until he was coming back to her, and gently pressing a cup of hot tea into her hand.

“Here, sip this tea, it should help with that cough, it’s a special blend. Just don’t ask me what's in it, my mother swore me to secrecy.”

Ellie lifted the mug to her lips grateful for the kindness, sipping at the warm liquid, and letting the tiny, tiny sips soothe her throat. She knew better than to take more, especially at first. She could barely swallow with how sore her throat was with the coughing was right now, and, oh, that warning he gave her for not asking, fuck, whatever was in it, his mother was a miracle worker. All it took was a few sips, whether from the warmth, or the herbs of the tea mix, but the irritation calmed down and soothed her throat something blissfully.

It felt like she could actually take in a breath for a moment.

“Better?”

Lifting the mug back to her lips to take another life saving sip, that’s what it felt like, how it felt with each sip of the tea right then easing her throat just for a moment. Part of her considered how long she could draw out this cup, wondering if the effects would allow her to get a decent sleep tonight. She knew better though, she knew better than to wonder, because even if she walked out of this building with a new job, she would still be going back to the overpass. She would still be wearing these overworn threadbare clothes that didn’t keep her warm. She still wouldn’t be able to breathe properly tonight.

Ellie would still be back tomorrow morning to go to the clinic again, this time, hopefully, she’d get in.

“Yes, thank you.”

She smiled at the man as she took his appearance. Instead of moving around the desk to sit behind it with his notepad and computer, he pulled up the other random chair in the room and sat this side with her. His hair was long, dark, but it wasn’t down, he had it piled up on his head, in a sort of messy knot, gauges in his ears, and he was covered in tattoos.

Ellie couldn’t help but think of all the stories he might have to go along with them. She had a few herself, back from before she’d had to drop out of college.. When she could afford to rub a couple of pennies together. Then again, maybe he had no stories, maybe he was one of those guys that just wanted to look cool naked, nothing wrong with aesthetics, she loved seeing beautiful artwork. Ellie also just loved how it made her feel though, and that in itself was a story for her.

“Alright, so, before we get started, I’m going to need you to sign this waiver allowing me access to your records so we can find you the best placement possible.”

Reaching across his desk, he plucked up his notebook, and sure enough, underneath there was the waver, and he snagged the pen from his notebook that he held out from her,

“Just sign away at the bottom and we can get started.”

He said best placement, but really, she just needed any placement, she’d take any job, she needed a job to fill her belly, to get somewhere to live. Ellie was tired of merely existing, she wanted to live again.

Setting the waiver down so she could sign it without giving up her mug of tea, she handed the pen back with a sigh.

“Alright then.”

Standing from his chair, he moved back around the desk with the pen and waiver, and started to click away at his laptop,

“We actually have a prime entry level position opened up just this morning that might be perfect for you Ellis if-”

“Ellie.”

Nicholas looked up from the screen when her quiet voice interrupted him, and to her surprise, it was almost as soft as it used to be. It wasn’t the rough wheezing hack she’d felt like she’d had ever since the cough had started coming and abusing her throat back and forth.

“I prefer to be called Ellie.”

Nicholas just smiled softly, nodding lightly, and glanced back to his screen.

“Well, there is a particular position that seems to have come up that looks to be perfect for you, its entry level, a postal worker placement, making sure goods get from A to B. It will involve a bit of relocation on your part, but the company in question will provide you with travel and lodging entirely free of charge for the entirety of your employment with them.”

He listed off information for the job details as he clicked away at the computer. Her eyes went wide, oh, that sounded both like a gift and a horror. Going somewhere she had never been, but also they would just be giving her a place to live as long as she was working for them. Where was it though?

“Nice warm climate too, so it’ll help take care of that cough, I might even throw in some tea for you, we won’t tell my mom, Ruffilo secret.”

Winking to her, Ellie couldn’t help but smile.. Was this.. Was this just too good to be true? After everything feeling so strange all day, and everything just slotting into place, why did this feel so… odd?

“Now one caveat listed here, is that you must note that you will need to be capable of handling the packages with care.”

She was curious how he said that, with care, because how he said it sounded quite specific, but at the same time, she really didn’t want to ruin this chance, even if there was something screaming that this might be too good.. She needed this. Ellie needed this.

“Oh, thats not problem for me at all.”

Smiling, it really wasn’t.

“I ah, I used to volunteer as an ‘Angel’ at my local hospital in the children’s oncology wing. Unfortunately I started college, and..”

She sighed.. Her boyfriend and classes had taken up a lot of her time. She had a lot of regrets.

Swallowing, the smile Nicholas got though as he nodded, with a knowing look in his eye as if he heard it all before.. Sighing, she knew that look. He probably thought she was just trying to talk herself up, make herself sound good, because she used to volunteer to look after sick kids. Didn’t matter, she just regretted that she stopped.

“Alright, well then, in that case, I have a few more forms I need you to sign once I have printed them out for you.”

Nicholas watched Ellie walk out from his office with Steven with the promise of some more sandwiches, and a place to sleep tonight. They were not going to let her go back to the overpass where Steven had found her yesterday, and her transport wouldn’t arrive until the morning, he was sending word for it now. Clicking away at his computer, it wouldn’t take long, but even for them sometimes paperwork could be tedious.. Everyone had to dot their I’s and cross their T’s though. Got to make the world go around.

All the world.

Just as he was hitting send on the email to Folio letting him know the time to pick her up in the morning, his phone started to ring, and sure enough, a familiar name flashed across his screen, coupled with a familiar pair of dark eyes that flashed with fire when annoyed.

Swiping the green circle to accept the call,

“What do you want, asshole?”

The chuckle from the voice on the other end had Nicholas shaking his head with a knowing smile,

“Is that anyway to greet your best friend Nicholas Ruffilo, what will your mother say?”

“My mother knows you Noah Sebastian, as much as she’d clip me around the ear, but still ask me what her sweet darling angel did to annoy me this time. She knows.”

The answering laughter on the other end of the line as Nicholas rolled his eyes said it all. Still, he just continued to click away at the laptop on his desk, looking over at the information on Ellie’s file, this was so much easier now that they could download information rather than just use paper hardcopies all the time, it could be so tedious.

“You want me to say hello like a normal person asshole, don’t eat all my fucking food.. like always.”

You’d think he’d learn, you really did, but he didn’t, Nicholas always had left overs that just disappeared whenever Noah came over to his apartment to hangout, which was, always. The man practically lived there more than he did at his own place. Not that he was complaining.

“We have a new one by the way, this one might take some time though, she’s going to be an interesting transition. Not sure how she’ll take it.”

A rumble of a humm was all he got from his best friend on the other end of the line.. And Nicholas paused at his typing as he looked suspiciously at his phone sitting on the desk. His best friends goofy face looking up at him from the screen, back from when they were younger, still kids and Noah was nothing but a fucking giant string bean. The noises in the background of the call made his eyes narrow..

“Oh you fucker, you’re at my place right now aren't you?! Step away from the pizza right now you jackass!”

All he got in response was cackle in response before the call cut off.

Noah ‘Fucking’ Sebastian, the food thief, his days were numbered.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#bad omens #noah sebastian #fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo #demon noah #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x ofc #original female character #ofc #bad omens au #noah bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #hell au #slow burn

55 notes · View notes

lampmanliveblogs · 16 days

Text

Yesterday's Lie, Today's Truth, Tomorrow's Promise chapter 2 (beta)

Heeey, y'all remember that Vee fic I've been toiling away at? I finally, just now, five minutes ago, got the second chapter done. Sorta, anyway. This bad boy ended up being just over 10 000 words long... and it was originally supposed to be longer, but I decided to split it into two.

I havenät run this through any spellcheck or grammar check, and I mgiht go back to change some stuff before fnal publication, but I'm probabaly not gonna change too much plot-wise. It took me a long time to get it into a state that works, and I think I did a decent job.

I am planning on actually putting this story up on AO3, but I wanna make sure to have at least the first three chapters done and ready before that. The next chapter should hopefully not be as long as this one.

For now... enjoy!

(oh, and I actually settled on a title!)

(also, i just realized that copy-n-paste didn't copy-n-paste any of the italics... meh, it's 01:00 at night right now and I need my beatuy sleep)

xxXXxx

Lamp Entertainment presents…

The night was growing old, but Masha was wide awake. Lying in Luz’ bed, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stars glued to the bunk above. They were tired, dead tired, but thoughts buzzed around their head like ten million fireflies, keeping them awake.

Not only were shapeshifters, basilisks, witches, magic, demons, and other worlds real, but shapeshifting basilisks demons from another world filled with magic and witches were real. Masha had spent most of summer sharing a bunk bed with one, just as they were doing now. It was a lot to take in.

Oh, and the story about the Wittebane brothers meeting a witch? It was true. The brothers had met a real witch, a witch that they had followed back to the Demon Realm, the world of demons and witches. Not only that, but old Philip Wittebane was still alive and kicking, turned into a monster and spending the last four centuries working on a plan to exterminate all witches.

That evil, wicked man was the reason Vee was alive. Vee had been… brief in talking about her origins. Masha knew better than to pry too much, and thank Goddess Marco and Samuel did too. Just telling them about her true identity had obviously been very difficult for her, and if there were things she wasn’t ready to tell them yet, then they shouldn’t pressure her.

Even so, what she did tell them did not paint a pretty picture.

”My name, it’s Vee as in V, as in ’five,’” she had explained, holding up two fingers forming a V. Her voice trembled and her gaze lowered, looking at something far, far away from the comfort and safety of her new home. She took a deep, unsteady breath before speaking again. ”I… am number five. Lab animal number five.”

And all of the sudden it made so much sense why ”Luz” had spent the first few weeks of camp jumping at every sudden sound and always looking over her shoulder. Why she would always sneak out of bed when she thought everyone was sleeping to make sure the door wasn’t locked.

It made Masha’s blood boil. Philip Wittebane better never show his face in Gravesfield again, or so help them…

But… something else troubled on Masha’s mind. They reached down on the floor, grabbing the vaguely clothes-shaped pile of fabric that was their discarded costume. The deck of cards was still in the pocket where they left them, still in the same order. The first three cards were still The Two-Headed Snake, The Light, and The Red String.

They shuffled the deck thoroughly and drew the first three cards again.

The Light. The Red String. The Two-Headed Snake.

What was the chances of drawing the exact same three cards? One in a million?

Maybe there was still some magic in them…

Eventually, Masha drifted off to a sleep filled with dreams they couldn’t remember in the morning.

Chapter 2: For the Future (that we can’t see)

Vee woke up early, before the others. Well, it wasn’t that early, it was just past eight in the morning. But considering the late night, it felt early even as the sun shone through the window.

She spent some time just coiled up in bed, enjoying the comfortable warmth under her two blankets. She thought if going back to sleep, but eventually convinced herself that it was time to rise and shine.

The others were still asleep, so Vee climbed down from her bunk as quietly as she could. Easier said than done when you had a thick tail instead of two nimble legs. Somehow, she made it down without waking anyone up, though that might have had more to do with the fact that her old cabin mates were exhausted after yesterday.

She noticed a deck of Hexas Hold’em cards lying on the floor. She recalled Masha playing with a deck on the day Luz contacted her from the Demon Realm. Vee couldn’t smell any magic left in them, which meant it was probably the same deck. They must’ve fallen out of Masha’s pocket. She gathered them and put them in a neat stack next to their costume.

She slithered silently out the room, past Samuel and Marco in the guest beds that used to belong to Willow and Amity. The whole thing reminded her of summer camp. She’d often wake up before her cabin mates then too, often sneaking out to enjoy the early morning sun. Masha had called camp prison, but as far as Vee was concerned, her first true sense of freedom had come from that place.

Making it down the stairs was one of those things that was a lot more uncomfortable with a tail than it was with a pair of legs, but Vee decided to stay in her true form for a bit longer. For the longest time, even before she made the decision to tell them, there had been an insistent voice in her head telling her that her friends would find her true form repulsive. It was nice to learn that wasn’t the case.

Oh stars, she could barely believe it! She had told them! She really had told them! Even though the thought had terrified her, she had still gone through with it. And it worked out, they didn’t hate her, they didn’t resent her for deceiving them.

There were some things she hadn’t told them. Things she had only ever told Camila, late one night after she woke up screaming from a nightmare. She wanted the truth to be a happy thing, not marred too much by what had been.

Vee was determined to move beyond her past pain. At times, the darkness made itself known at the back of her head, deep within her lizard brain. But she was getting better and better at pushing back. She had optimism for the future.

First things first though. She needed to call Camila’s work to let them know she was going to need a few days off. Vee, being naturally paranoid and a born liar, had already fleshed out a halfway decent story.

It took some convincing and a little bit of improv, but Vee was eventually (imitating Camila’s voice, of course) able to get Camila’s sudden leave accepted.

Once that was done with, Vee began cleaning up the mess in the living room while contemplating what to do with Luz. Should she take on her appearance and go to school as her again? Or should she call the school and inform Luz wouldn’t be coming for a few days? Both alternatives had its ups and downs. On one hand, Vee actually did like school and learning about the Human Realm. And Luz’ grades really did not need to get any worse. On the other hand, keeping up the deception would add another element of complication. Vee was good, but was she that good?

She mulled over it while cleaning up until she heard movement coming from upstairs. She turned to her friends groggily making their way down the stairs.

”Good morning!” she said cheerfully.

”Wow…” Samuel whispered. ”I was halfway convinced I was dreamt up everything,” he said a little louder.

”Not me, cause I’m not that creative,” Marco said.

”I gotta say, I think it would make for a pretty good story,” Samuel continued. ”A demon fleeing from an evil emperor ends up in the world of the humans, accidentally taking the place of a young girl headed for summer camp… yeah, that’s a good story. Maybe I should write a book about it.”

”Don’t you have like fifty-eleven different fanfics you’re already writing?” Masha teased him. Samuel blushed.

”I do finish some of my fanfics,” he said defensively. ”Unlike my thirteenth favorite fanfic writer, The Lampman. That guy couldn’t finish a fanfic if his life depended on it. ”

”I don’t know who that is, but he sounds like a talentless hack,” Marco said.

”I’m sure he’s not that bad,” Vee said. ”Anyway, here I am, very much real. By which I mean ’real-ly hungry.’ Anyone else want breakfast? I’m starving!”

The others agreed that breakfast would be nice. Vee lead them into the kitchen and began fixing some food. One thing the other Cabin 7 members had noticed about ”Luz” was that the way she’d scarf down her food at every meal like she had never eaten before. Which, based on what they now knew of Vee’s past, sadly made a lot of sense. Though that was not the only thing they had noticed about Luz ’ eating habits.

”You used to choke on your food a lot,” Masha observed. They were absentmindedly playing with the deck of Hexas Hold’em cards. ”Was that because you usually swallow your food whole?”

”Yeah, pretty much,” Vee confirmed while frying up some eggs. ”I do have teeth to chew with if I have to, but I usually don’t. Human throats are a lot less flexible than basilisks and I wasn’t used to it.” To demonstrate what she meant, she took an apple lying on the counter and swallowed it whole, making her throat bulge outward.

”Not gonna lie,” Marco said. ”That was a kinda gross.”

”You should see how I eat eggs then,” Vee chuckled. ”The difficult part is spitting the shell out in one piece.”

”Th-thanks, but I think we’ll skip that one,” Samuel quickly interjected. He looked contemplative for a moment. ”Do you have… is it poison or venom? I can never remember the difference.”

”If I bite you and you die, I’m venomous,” Vee explained. ”But if you bite me and you die, then I’m poisonous. And no, I don’t have venom. Don’t know if I’m poisonous though. I might be.”

”What if I bite myself and I die?” Marco asked. ”What does that make me then?”

”Stupid,” Masha said, prompting a good group laugh.

”No new information there,” Marco said between giggles.

The eggs done, the gang sat down at the table. Sitting on chairs designed for human creatures with things like ”legs” and ”butts” was yet another thing that was a bit awkward for Vee. She’d usually just stand at the table, but she decided to sit down this time. Before she sat down, she grabbed a special jar from one of the cabinets.

It had a homemade label, saying in neat handwriting that it was ”For Vee only.” A second pencil had added a small face making a sick face, to which the first pencil responded that ”I told you so.”

Her friends watched with interest as she took four slices of bread and spread thick layers of jar’s contents on them. It looked like some chocolate spread, but with strange lumps in it.

”What is that?” Masha asked finally. ”Is it some kind of special basilisk food?”

”Uh… kinda?” Vee hesitated. ”It’s nutella, with protein powder and, um… wood chips and sand.”

This was met with wide stares.

”Wood chips… and sand?” Samuel asked, as if to make sure he heard it right.

”It’s good for my digestion,” Vee said with a little shrug. ”It was either that, or I keep chewing on twigs I found on the ground. Camila thinks I need a lot of protein, so that’s what the protein powder’s for.”

”And the nutella…?” Masha asked.

”Oh, that’s for taste,” Vee said. Deciding that was enough explanation, she took one the fried eggs and sandwiched it between two bread slices slathered in the cursed nutella. ”I think Demon Realm stomachs are just tougher than human stomachs,” Vee said between bites of her sandwich. ”Luz told me there was a bunch of foods she couldn’t eat in the Demon Realm, but the others didn’t seem to have any problems with anything from here. Well, except for garlic.”

”What, they couldn’t eat garlic?” Masha asked in-between bites of their own sandwich. ”Like vampires?”

”Precisely,” Vee said with a nod.

”Wait, really?” Masha exclaimed, nearly choking on their food. ”Vampires are real? And they can’t stand garlic? That part’s true!?”

”Yes,” Vee said, smiling at the funny face Masha was making.

”Oh, so that’s why you had cloves of garlic next to your bed,” Marco said and nodded a little. ”It’s to keep the vampires away.”

”Kinda. There aren’t any vampires in Gravesfield (I hope), but it makes me feel safer to sleep with it,” Vee explained. ”Hunter said that basilisks and vampires used to be natural enemies, since, well… we both kinda feed on witches… Garlic is deadly to vampires, and since a lot of witches have vampire ancestry, a lot of them have inherited a garlic allergy.” Vee smiled at a memory. ”Willow’s and Gus’ weren’t that bad, but Amity’s was really bad. Luz was devastated, because one piece of garlic bread meant no more kisses for the day.”

That image garnered a few laughs.

”I can’t wait for you guys to meet Luz, the real Luz,” Vee said. ”She’s the coolest! Seh fights Belos and doesn’t afraid of anything.”

”Well, I think you’re pretty cool,” Masha said. They reached out to hold Vee’s hand, soft skin meeting rough scales. ”My whole life I’ve been looking for signs of the supernatural, for ghosts or demons or what have you… but I never ever dreamed of meeting, much less becoming friends with a living, breathing demon!”

Samuel put a hand on Vee’s shoulder.

”And I’m really happy you felt comfortable enough to tell us your secret,” he said. ”I know it couldn’t have been easy. I’m honored you felt you could trust us that much, and I promise you won’t regret it.”

Marco put his hand on Vee’s other shoulder.

”I used to think Cabin 7 was the coolest cabin in Connecticut,” he said. ”Now I know we’re the coolest in the whole world. I mean, who else can say they have a freakin’ shapeshifter as a friend?

”Aw, you guys…” Ve was struggled to hold back tears. She lost that battle, and big warm tears started rolling don her cheeks. ”I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she sobbed. ”I wanted to, but I never dared.”

Masha, Samuel, and Marco acted in unison, standing up to embrace Vee in a big group hug.

”Hey, it’s okay, I know what that’s like,” Masha reassured her. ”Keeping a part of yourself secret even to those that love you… it eats away at you. It took me forever to come out to my parents, even though I knew they’d accept me for who I am… anxiety’s a bitch.”

”Th-thanks,” Vee said. She managed to wriggle one arm free to wipe the tears off her face. ”You guys really are the best.”

They stood huddled together for a minute, until Vee felt her love of hugs starting to give way to her fear of being restrained.

”I’m fine, I promise,” she said, trying to wriggle free of the group hug. ”I’m just so happy is all.”

Eventually, the Cabin 7 crew relented with their physical affection and let her go. They had breakfast to finish after all.

The three humans watched with equal amounts fascination and disgust as Vee ate an entire banana, without peeling it. ”The shell doesn’t taste that good, but hey, it’s the inside that counts, right?” she said. And really, who could argue with logic like that?

Her friends had a few more questions about her biology yet.

”Do you shed your skin like a snake?” Samuel asked while helping to gather the dishes.

”Uh-huh,” Vee hummed, putting the dishes in the sink. She decided to be lazy and do them later. ”I actually shed not too long ago. The old skin’s in a box in the basement, if you wanna see it.”

”…that’s a hard pass for me bro,” Marco said. ”Why would you even keep it?”

”What were we supposed to do, throw it out in the garbage?” Vee asked rhetorically. ”You saw how Jacob acted yesterday. After Camila locked him in his own cage, he hasn’t dared to go after us directly. But I don’t think he’s above digging through the trash to find proof there’s a demon living here. As is, everyone thinks he’s a raving lunatic conspiracy nut. Which, to be fair, he is, he just happened to stumble onto the truth this one time.”

The three friends nodded, for the first time realizing just what it would mean if Jacob actually did get proof of demon presence in Gravesfield. The town had a history of witch hunting already, who’s to say the people of today wouldn’t continue the tradition should they learn of Vee’s presence? Not to mention what the government might do to get their hands on an interdimensional traveler.

”It must’ve been incredibly hard for you,” Masha said. They were still playing with the deck of Hexas Hold’em cards, shuffling them and drawing the first three cards. ”To have to pretend to be someone else, in a world you know nothing about.”

”It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure,” Vee admitted. ”But, well… it’s kinda what we basilisks do. We disguise ourselves, observe, lie, infiltrate, feed, survive… a lot of it was pure instinct. I’m a natural liar.”

Samuel shook his head.

”’Liar’ is a bad word,” he said. ”Very strong, very stigmatized. Say you’re a born actor and a natural talent at improv.”

This made Vee laugh.

”If you say so,” she giggled. She cleared her throat and the next time she spoke, her voice was an exact imitation of Samuel’s. ”A lot of it was instinct. I’m a born actor and a natural talent at improv.”

”You’re so gonna have to help me write my résumé,” Masha said to Samuel, prompting a brief chuckle.

”I’ve been thinking of doing NaNoWriMo this year, so I’ve been practicing how to make sentences longer,” he explained. He then had to spend the next fifteen minutes explaining what that was and deflect questions his friends had about the novel he was totally going to write.

After breakfast was done with and the table cleaned up, a natural question arose:

”So… what now?” Marco asked.

”I’m thinking that maybe I should take over as Luz for a little while,” Vee said. ”But I’m not sure. For now though… I suppose the first order of business is to get Camila’s car back. I know she has a spare key in the key cabinet. So I guess that’s today’s project.”

Masha looked skeptical.

”Do you have a driver’s license?”

”No…” Vee admitted. ”But I can turn into Camila, and I’m sure there’s some other identification lying around I could use. And that’s assuming I even get pulled over, and why would I get pulled over?”

”Normally you’d have a point, but the police have been on edge lately with all the break-ins,” Samuel said. ”My mom told me she’s been pulled over five times in her life, and three of them have been in the last month.”

”I think we’re missing something obvious here guys,” Masha said. ”Vee, do you even know how to drive?”

”I mean… no…” Vee said slowly. ”But I’m sure I could figure it out!”

”…I’m driving it home for you,” Masha stated, not leaving it up for debate.

”Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Vee conceded.

Before they left, Vee quickly grabbed a few cups of brown pellets that she scarfed down. This made Marco raise an eyebrow… not that you could tell.

”Was that…?”

”Dog food, yes,” Vee sighed, clearly having had this conversation before. ”It’s filling.”

”Wow,” Marco said, not sounding particularly impressed or surprised. To be fair, the Luz he had known at camp did seem like she might eat dog food. ”You weren’t lying when you said you were hungry before.”

”I’m still growing!” Vee said with the smallest hint of a pout. Masha drew their attention away from the deck of cards they’d been playing with, since this sounded interesting. ”I’ve got a lot of growing left before I become an adult. I haven’t even been through second puberty.”

”…second puberty?” Samuel asked.

Vee nodded.

”Yeah, it’s, uh… a thing with us basilisks.You know, like… maturing and stuff.” This did nothing to explain anything. ”Point is, I’ve got a lot of growing left to do, and I gotta eat for that.”

”How big do you think you’re going to be?” Masha asked curiously. ”Or like, how long, I guess?”

”Oh, um…” Vee scratched the back of her head. ”About… twelve to fifteen-”

”Twelve to fifteen feet?” Samuel exclaimed, impressed.

”Noooooo,” Vee said. ”Twelve to fifteen meters.”

There was a pause as the three humans processed this answer.

”Bloody hell’s bells,” Masha finally whispered, their eyes wide with awe.

Marco whistled.

”Big snake,” he said.

”That’s putting it lightly,” Samuel muttered. ”Fifteen meters is bigger than the titanoboa, the biggest snake in the fossil record.”

”Haha, yeah, I got tall genes,” Vee said nervously. She shifted into her human form. ”Shall we get going?”

xxXXxx

Gravesfield was beautiful around this time of the year. The warm browns, oranges, and yellows of the trees suited the quaint little town. The air was clear and crisp, with a hint of winter cold in the wind, though today was an unusually warm and sunny autumn’s day. A perfect day for a nice stroll with friends.

Vee’s three human friends still had a plethora of questions that needed answering, not just about her, but about the world she came from. At the same time, Masha resolved to make good on their offer to give Vee a tour of the town. Since Vee already knew her way around, they resorted to the second best option, their specialty: useless historical trivia. And so the conversation kept bouncing between the magical and the mundane as if dictated by a conversational metronome.

”So on the Boiling Isles, all life and magic comes from the Titan whose body actually makes up most of the isles. All magic is made up of four basic elements, light, fire, ice, and plant. It’s really cool too, because when I eat magic I can taste the different elements. So Amity’s abomination magic, for example, is mostly plant elemental, with a bit of light and hints of fire and ice. Now, Gus’ illusions on the other hand are almost completely light elemental…”

”So you’ve all probably wondered why the library in town is called that, right? Okay, you’ve probably never even thought about it, but R.E.O.S Gravesfield Public Library is a pretty odd name, don’t you think? Turns out the old library burned down in 1931, and since this was during the Great Depression, there wasn’t any money to rebuild it. But as luck would have it, the millionaire industrialist, philanthrope, and hobbyist ghost hunter Robert E.O Speedwagon came to visit Gravesfield in 1933. This place was well-known for being haunted even back then. He didn’t find any ghosts, but he apparently took such a liking to the town that he offered to personally fund the construction of a new library. Thus, it was named after him. Speedwagon was an interesting fella, because he wasn’t born into wealth, no, he started out as a thug on the streets of victorian London…”

”Really, I swear, dog food isn’t that bad. Dogs are supposed to be man’s best friend right? Why would you feed your best friend something that’s gross? Amity, Gus, and Willow tried some, and they didn’t think it was half bad. Then again… Hunter nearly threw up… and so did Luz. Huh…”

”Speaking of ghost hunts, one of my favorites has got to be Mr. Hunter, and he actually visited Gravesfield once. As I recall, he wrote that while he didn’t find any ghosts, there was undoubtedly something eerie about this place that he couldn’t put his finger on. Like a subtle hum in the air, inaudible to the human air but still felt in your body. He visited the old graveyard while they were doing some digging and reburials, so maybe he could somehow sense the presence of the titan’s blood? Because I really do believe some people have extrasensory perception. People will say that ’Oh, the Stargate project never found any psychics,’ but do you really think anyone with real psychic abilities would tell the government? Best case scenario, you get locked up and experimented on for the rest of your life…”

”No, no, I’m not exaggerating, it’s an island on top of the body of an ancient giant. It’s just like that one story you told at camp Masha, about that giant that was killed by some gods who made the world out of its body.”

”Oh, you mean the norse creation myth? I love that one, it’s so metal. So in the beginning, there was a land of fire, a land of ice, and a great gap between them…”

It didn’t take too long for Samuel and Marco both to realize (and the fact that Marco noticed just went to show how obvious it was) that they were being slowly excluded from the conversation. There was no malice or ill will behind it, no. It was more so the fact that Masha and Vee seemed to only have eyes and ears for each other.

Vee looked at Masha with such affection and attention whenever they started talking, you could almost see her ears perk up under her hair. And Masha was always up for talking about history or ghosts or whatever else interested them that day, but the excitement with which they spoke to Vee was unparalleled.

As the odd bunch reached the center of town, it had become pretty clear what was going. Marco and Samuel had unintentionally become the third and fourth wheel on a date.

”Ooh Vee, you’ve got to try the new chai latte they’ve got at Robin’s Roast,” Masha said excitedly. ”Do you boys want anything?” They added, once they remembered the boys existed and were present.

”No thanks, I don’t like coffee,” Samuel declined. ”B’sides, I promised I’d be home by lunch, so I better get going.” He glanced at Marco. As per usual, Marco’s expression was nearly impossible to decipher, but it seemed like he got the hint.

”Yeah, and I only drink water,” he said. This was true; he only ever drank regular water. At most he’d treat himself to some ice water. He had never explained why. ”And I probably should get home as well. See you around!” he said and waved as he and Samuel went on their ways.

”See ya!” Vee said and waved back. She turned to Masha. ”And I’d love to try one of those chai lattes.”

”Great. My treat,” Masha said and started leading Vee towards the cafe.

Vee came to a sudden stop though just before they could enter.

”Oh uh,” she mumbled.

”What’s the matter?” Masha asked.

”Um…” Vee mumbled. ”I… don’t really wanna see her,” she whispered and gestured at someone through the window.

Masha took a peek inside the almost empty cafe.

”Who, Clara?” they asked, spotting one of Luz’ classmates. She was easy to recognize, with her bright blonde hair with a streak of pink. ”Did you or Luz get into a fight with her?”

”Wha-no, not Clara, the other one,” Vee said and pointed at the only other person in the room.

”Maya?” Masha said, surprised.

”You know her?”

”Sorta,” Masha shrugged. ”Believe it or not, but I’m a frequent customer at The Magic Circle, that’s where I get all my books on the occult and paranormal. So we kinda know each other. What about you, why don’t you wanna see her?”

”Well, uh…” Vee mumbled. ”We actually went to The Magic Circle the other day while we’re trying to figure out what that old rebus was about, and, uh… we kinda… got kicked out…”

”Ah, I see,” Masha said, a small smile playing at the edge of their lips.

”Really, it was mostly Gus’ and Willow’s fault,” Vee said defensively.

”If you say so,” Masha snickered. ”Don’t worry, I’ll go in and face this challenge alone,” distorting their voice into a dramatic growl, making Vee giggle.

”Alright, I’lll be waiting somewhere around. I don’t wanna stay too close, lest she see me.”

Masha nodded and entered the cafe. Vee turned around and started walking away in a very natural and unsuspicious manner, not at all reminiscent of someone who had just spotted someone who they really did not want to spot them.

She rounded the corner of the block, and realized too late that she had found herself back at the scene of the crime. Literally; The Magic Circle was cordoned off with bright yellow police tape.

What in the…? When did this happen?

Vee approached slowly, watching out for shards of glass on the pavement. Most of them had been swept up and to the side, but there were a few missed glittering in the high sun. Someone had broken open the door, nearly ripping it off its hinges, sending glass flying everywhere in the process. Not only that, but the metal bars that were supposed to stop anyone that had forced open the door had been cut and bent out of shape. Someone really wanted to get into that store.

A fleeting scent reached Vee’s nose, and she instinctively took a deep breath. She dared a little bit closer, almost to the point where she touched the police tape. She could hear people talking and moving inside, likely investigators trying to figure out who was behind this crime. It was not the noise that brought Vee close though, but the scent.

There was a faint smell in the air, a smell Vee recognized. Not from the realm of humans, but one from the realm of demons. It wasn’t magic, but rather the memory of magic, the ”soot” and ”smoke” of a spell. It smelled like someone had performed magic here… but no one, not Amity, not Gus, nor Willow had cast any spells while they were here. And even if they had, that was two days ago. Surely the smell would would have faded away into nothing by now… surely…

xxXXxx

The familiar smell of ground coffee beans and freshly baked pastries greeted Masha as they entered Robin’s Roast, well before the employee behind the counter could. They threw a glance at the sign showing customers that had managed to get themselves permanently banned. A pale woman with grey hair and bright golden eyes and a wild smile; Marilyn. Except that was not her real name. She was Eda the Owl Lady, a powerful witch from another world. She had come here once, tired to pay with a raccoon, cursed the croissants, and then ran away. To be honest, from what Vee had told them, this Eda seemed like an icon of chaos and unadulterated confidence. In other words, very much the kind of person Masha aspired to be.

Masha nodded to Maya before going to place their order. Two chai lattes, and these ones were the best in town. Well, they were the only in town, but still. They were good, Vee was sure to love them. After a moment of consideration, Masha decided to grab two two cupcakes as well. They had a chocolate-and-coffee frosting and were decorated with white and black hearts.

Without thinking, Masha reached into the pocket where they kept the deck of cards. Their thumb brushed over the topmost card. The Red String.

”… on a date?”

”Hm?” Masha hummed and spun around to face the voice taking to them. It was Maya, sitting by her lonesome with a by now cold coffee.

”You on a date?” she repeated, causing Masha’s brain to malfunction.

”Wha-? N-no, it’s not a date! We’re just friends.” Incredibly enough, Masha managed to stutter forth the exact series of words that anyone who was on a date but didn’t want to admit it was a date would say. Amazing. They felt their cheeks begin to heat up.

Maya, as expected, looked unconvinced.

”Yeah sure. And your ’friend’ with the green hair is real subtle.”

”You… saw her?” Masha said, keeping their tone low. Even if Vee’s other friends hadn’t done a crime, it was probably for the better not to draw too much attention to the basilisk hiding amongst humans. They glanced at Clara, who looked absolutely miserable over in the corner of the cafe, sulking with a half empty coffee mug.

”Yeah…” Maya said slowly. ”Kind hard not to, with the green hair and bright orange sweater. She’s like a walking traffic cone.”

That image was enough to make Masha forget their nervousness and start chuckling. Maya didn’t joke often, but when she did, she did not miss.

”She thought you might be mad at her,” Masha explained, still keeping their tone low. ”She said that last time you two met didn’t end so well.”

”Water under the bridge,” Maya said. She stirred her coffee with a spoon, not that it did much good since it was already cold.

”…wasn’t it less than two days ago.”

”Lot of water passes under the bridge in two days,” Maya said with a shrug. She tapped a coin lying on the table. It looked like it could be gold, though it probably wasn’t, and it had a spiral symbol on it. ”But you can let her know that her friends aren’t gonna get in trouble if they come back. I literally could not be arsed to report that stolen costume. And, well… with what happened, another missing costume isn’t that big of a deal.”

”What, what happened?” Masha asked, slipping back to normal conversational tone. Something else had happened at The Magic Circle since then? This was news to Masha.

”You didn’t see it on the way here?” Maya raised her eyebrow. Masha had never claimed to be great at reading facial expressions, but they could somehow decode exactly what Maya meant, calling Masha out on being… distracted by their company.

”If it was something at The Magic Circle, then no, we came from another direction,” Masha said quickly, internally cursing their traitorous body for pumping excessive amounts of blood to their cheeks.

”Yeah, well, someone broke into the store,” Maya said. ”Completely trashed the front door. Hence why I’m here instead of at work.”

”Oh no, that’s terrible,” Masha said. Genuinely, that was their favorite store in town. It was a much-needed haven for a social outcast enby goth like them. ”That’s what, the fifth this month?” The last month or so had seen an unprecedented number of break-ins and thefts happening in the otherwise peaceful little town. The last place to be hit was a private workshop. The thief had made off with thousands of dollars worth in tools, car parts, and electronics. ”Was anything stolen?”

Maya nodded.

”Mhm. No cash though, which is weird, didn’t even touch the safe. No, they stole some costumes and a bunch of jewelry. And cassette tapes, which is even weirder to me. If they were originals, then maybe they’d be worth something, but the ones we have are cheap replicas for nostalgia’s sake.”

Out of the corner of their eye, Masha saw Clara suddenly get up from her chair and hurry out. In her haste, she bumped into Masha. She mumbled a quick sorry and was gone before Masha even had the time to tell her it was fine.

”Geez, what lit a fire under her ass?” Maya said dryly, watching through the window as Clara all but ran her way from Robin’s Roast.

”I dunno, maybe she realized she was late for her class on being a bitch,” Masha said. They almost regretted saying that immediately, because in the grand scheme of things, Clara was not that much of a bitch… though she was far from a saint. Still, it was a funny joke that almost made Maya laugh.

”Yeah, probably,” she said. Her eyes flickered to the floor. ”You dropped something.”

”Oh, thanks,” Masha said and bent down to pick up the Hexas Hold’em cards that had slipped out of their pocket when Clara collided with them.

There were three cards on the floor. Now, you’d think that since The Red String, The Two-Headed Snake, and The Light were the three topmost cards in the deck, those would have been the ones to fall out, but you’d be mistaken. With a slight frown, Masha gathered the cards and looked at them.

The Sword and Shield featured a winged sword and an ornate shield. The card invoked the imagery of a knight or soldier, brave and loyal. It’d be a pity to stain such beautiful things with the blood of war and conflict.

The Golem showed a large and brutish figure made from purple clay. It was probably supposed to be one of those abominations Vee had mentioned Luz’ girlfriend (Amity?) used. A figure crafted with magic, made to defend or attack, but with little will of its own.

The Whip was just that, a whip, though the tip of this one was replaced with a snake’s head. Whips were the weapon of oppressors and animal tamers, who ruled though fear of pain and punishment.

”Oh yeah, and the thief also stole all those cards too,” Maya said, snapping Masha out of their thoughts and back to reality. ”What were they called, Hex n’ Hold’em?”

”Hexas Hold’em,” Masha corrected, shoving the cards back in their pocket.

”Right, right… I think we got them from that creepy conspiracy nut.”

Masha nodded.

”Jacob Hopkins. I got my deck from him as well.”

”You know him?” Maya asked.

”Not really. He used to work at the Historical Society,” Masha explained, which was met by a sympathetic grimace from Maya. ”And yes, he really is as crazy as you think. Or worse even. Did you know he’s an actual flat-earther?”

”Noooooo…” Maya said slowly, in utter disbelief. ”That can’t be true! I though the whole flat earth thing was just a bad meme.”

”I wish I was kidding,” Masha said while shaking their head. ”Flat earth and witches from Mars, ancient aliens that gather in the ruins in the woods… you can see why he got kicked out of the GHS.”

”Good riddance, by the sounds of it,” Maya said.

At this point, the man behind the counter decided he was tired of listening to Maya and Masha’s banter, and so he cleared his throat to get Masha’s attention.

”R-right, sorry,” they mumbled. They quickly paid and with only some difficulty, managed to grab both cups and the paper bag with the cupcakes.

Maya was a gentlewoman and got up from her seat to hold the door open for them.

”Good luck on the date,” she said, which, despite the playfulness to her voice, still sounded genuine deep down.

”It’s not-” Masha’s words were cut off by the door closing.

Masha wasn’t privy to Maya sighing and sitting back again, reaching for the spoon to uselessly stir her coffee again… only to discover the spoon had, as if by an invisible hand, been bent out of shape.

As Masha exited back out onto the sidewalk, they scanned the street for Vee, finding that she was nowhere within sight. Following a hunch, they rounded the corner and indeed, there she was.

Vee was standing in front of The Magic Circle, dangerously close to the trashed door, almost touching the police tape. She was sniffing the air, her eyes closed in concentration.

”Good Goddess, what did you people do!?” Masha said loudly, startling Vee. She almost jumped out of her own skin as she spun around.

”Nothing, I was just curious!” she said quickly, before she even registered who it was talking to her. She relaxed when she saw who was talking to her. Masha noticed her hair move as her big adorable ear moved underneath. ”Oh. Funny. Real funny coming from you, considering you’re my alibi.”

”I dunno, they say criminals always return to the scene of the crime,” Masha said, trying to sound genuine. ”Are you sure it wasn’t you?”

”Positive,” Vee said dryly. ”No, I really was just curious. I thought I could smell something…” She threw a quick glance at the wrecked door and security bars with the hint of a frown. ”But it’s probably nothing.”

”How about we get going again then?” Masha said, holding up the goodies from Robin’s Roast. ”The tea’s getting cold, and i’ve still got many useless. I mean, ’ interesting’ historical facts to tell you. Oh, and I got us a little something extra,” they said and shook the little paper bag, though gently, as to not spill any of the still hot liquid.

Vee’s face lit up at the prospect of food and drink.

”Gladly,” she said excitedly and took the cup Masha was offering. As they started walking away from the depressing sight that was The Magic Circle, Vee smelled the tea carefully.

”You were right, this is amazing,” she said.

”Y-you do know you’re supposed to drink it, right?” Masha asked while taking a sip themselves.

”Oh, I know,” Vee said and took a careful sip. ”But there’s not much difference in smell and taste to me.”

”Really? Can’t you feel any taste?” Masha asked, intrigued. There was still so much about their friend they didn’t know. They recalled what Vee had talked about before, how she normally didn’t chew her food, so maybe it did make sense that she didn’t have much of a sense of taste.

”No, I have a sense of taste, but my sense of smell is a lot more refined,” Vee clarified. ”Didn’t you ever wonder how I became the best seeker in hide and seek back at camp?”

This took Masha a second to process. It was true that whenever the camp counselors made the kids do hide and seek among the barracks or in the nearby woods, ’Luz’ was always the best at finding people… she even earned a little gold star for it, one of many.

”You… you were tracking us… by scent?” they said slowly. Vee nodded with a big grin, revealing Masha probably had a very funny expression.

”Yeah,” Vee said, clearly holding back laughter. ”I remember the very first time we played hide and seek, and I was so confused that no one else was trying to mask their scent. That’s when I realized humans just don’t have that good a sense of smell. Uh, no offense, you humans have a lot of great qualities, especially yo-I mean-”

”That’s why you showed up covered in mud!” Masha exclaimed, suddenly remembering one of the weirder things ’Luz’ had done, and one of the few times she got in trouble at camp.

”That and camouflage,” Vee laughed, prompting Masha to start laughing as well.

Once the laughter died down, the two friends could continue with their walk through town. Masha offered Vee one of the cupcakes.

”Aw, these are so cute,” Vee said, taking a good look at the muffin, before it was to be devoured.

”A cute cupcake for a cute girl,” MAsha said before they could stop themselves. Being unable to see their own face, Masha wasn’t sure if that sentence made them blush harder than Vee, but they suspected that might be the case.

”G-gee, th-thanks,” Vee stammered. ”I-I think you’re cute too. B-but in a cool way! You’re like the coolest person I know! Wh-which I know doesn’t mean that much because I really don’t know that many people, at least when compared to the average human, which I’m not…” Her sentence trailed off at some point before it devolved into complete gibberish.

And so, in only a few seconds, the atmosphere between the two friends changed entirely. They spent a few minutes in awkward silence, wandering the streets of Gravesfield while eating their cupcakes and drinking their tea.

Masha decided to break the silence.

”So, uh… did you say you could smell magic as well?” the asked, recalling something Vee had mentioned offhandedly the night before.

Vee nodded.

”I can track magic by scent as well.” She suddenly smiled again. ”But I can do more than just track,” she said. ”I can tell all sorts of things by smell. Like, did you know Marco uses the same kind of dandruff shampoo as Camila?”

”I didn’t know Marco used shampoo,” Masha said. ”I’ve never been able to smell anything from hm other than that body spray he insists on using way too much off.”

”It really doesn’t smell that good” Vee agreed. ”Okay, but I can also tell that Samuel really need to do something about his foot fungus.”

”Eeeeew!” Masha exclaimed. ”Gross!”

”I know,” Vee said with a nod. ”It’s been pretty bad for a while now, but I noticed that it’s gotten even worse. I’m serious, it can’t be healthy.”

”Ew, ew, ew!” Masha repeated while holding their hands over their ears. ”Talk about something else.”

”O-okay, um… ”Vee thought for a moment. ”Oh, I know, something else I can do. I could tell instantly that your mom was pregnant, right when I first met her.”

…

”SHE’S WHAT!?”

xxXXxx

It took Masha a bit to calm down after that bombshell. The revelation that there were going to have a younger sibling within a couple of months was bad enough, but it was made even worse when they realized that… it must have happened while they were away at camp. Vee was profoundly apologetic about the whole thing, meagerly saying she thought they knew already, which only made things yet worse, because it was apparently an obvious thing too.

Eventually they calmed down, largely thanks to Vee distracting them by asking for more historical trivia.

Vee was a very attentive listener. As Masha had noticed before, they could notice her ears move and perk up when she heard something she thought was interesting. And those big bright eyes were so full of life and wonder at everything. Even when it came to those subjects most people who were not already interested in history found boring and irrelevant. Though Masha made sure to omit some of the more gruesome details, especially regarding the witch hunts.

The two of them spent about an hour walking around Gravesfield, enjoying their chai lattes, cupcakes, the pleasant weather and each others’ company.

As Masha set the course, they dragged Vee along in any random direction, based more so on vibes and any interesting facts they could think of. So it was quite unintentional on their part that they end up where they eventually did end up.

It was towards the south edge of town, where at one point, there had been a big push towards development. Land had been purchased and forest cut down to make way for new housing and businesses. Pretty much all of those grandiose and ambitious ideas had been abandoned for a variety of reasons… and one huge reason, the primary reason really, was what Vee and Masha found themselves looking at.

Masha came to a halt when they realized where they were, an abrupt halt that took Vee by surprise. She followed Masha’s gaze, beholding the modern ruins.

The entire area was cordoned off by a chainlink fence to keep modern urban explorers out… not that it had succeeded, as the gate had been forced open, and was only kept closed by a rock someone had placed in front of it.

Beyond the fence was a large field of asphalt, which had once had lines for parking spaces, though since long worn out. Cycles of heat, and rain, and cold without any upkeep had over the years made the asphalt start to crack. Life, ever persevering, had started to reclaim the area, with grass, weeds, and flowers growing from the cracks.

On the other end of the old parking lot stood the remains of a building. Crumbling slabs and blocks of concrete, with rusting metal beams and rebar sticking out of it like the bones of a rotting corpse. Almost every visible wall that was still standing was covered in graffiti, some so old that it had started to fade away.

Masha broke the silence.

”That… used to be a big department store,” they said slowly. ”Built in 1998, it would even remain standing for a decade. Shoddy workmanship, corrupt inspectors approving subpar construction, and the ever-present desire of those who already have more than they need to earn even more, to increase the profit margin by even just a fraction of a percent…” They stopped before they got too carried away. They had spent a lot of time looking into this case, and everything they had learned had made them more angry. They took a deep breath to calm themselves down. At their side, Vee had a mixed look of confusion and worry.

”Are… you okay?” she asked quietly. She started to reach out, but stopped halfway.

”Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just… it makes me mad,” Masha said, though Vee didn’t look very reassured. ”It was during a summer of heavy rainfall that part of the roof collapsed,” Masha continued, doing their best to slip back into history teacher mode. ”Two people received minor injuries, one employee and one customer. Examination of the wreckage as well as the original blueprints lead to the entire building being condemned and left here. The parent company promised to clean it up, but of course, nothing has happened yet. It’s only been fifteen years after all, give it some time.” Again, Masha couldn’t help but let the disgust seep through their words.

”It was the opinion of several independent experts that a leak on the roof, a problem which was known about by the staff, lead to supporting beams beginning to rust and for the roof to weaken,” Masha continued. ”Furthermore, partway through the construction, there was a change of plans and part of the air conditioning system was moved, putting additional weight on a part of the roof that was not designed to bear it. One investigator went as far as to claim that the construction company had knowingly used substandard materials in order to cut down costs. Of course, they were never taken to court for this.”

Masha stepped on a small pebble on the ground, rolling it under their shoe and fiddling with it. Vee stood by, silently waiting for the next part of the story.

”I was here on that day,” Masha said finally. ”I wasn’t old enough to remember, I was only a little over a year old when it happened, but my dad has told me the story. It was in the afternoon on the seventh of June, 2007. My parents had been visiting my mom’s family living in the next town over. On the way back home, they stopped by here to get something for dinner.”

Masha stopped and pointed at a spot close to the ruins.

”I don’t know if you can see it, but there’s some flowers growing in some of the bigger cracks over there. Mom and I planted them there on dad’s birthday last year. I don’t remember what the flowers are called, but they’re supposed to represent life.”

They cleared their throat.

”Anyway… it had been raining cats and dogs all day, so dad was supposed to head in alone while mom waited in the car with me. But just as dad was about to leave… I started crying. He said that I was sleeping before, but the suddenly… I sat up and started crying. But not just crying… he said… he told me that I was screaming. And that he had never heard me scream like that, not before, not since, not even when I broke my arm in second grade.”

Even the brief mention of that painful memory made Masha rub their arm, even though it was completely healed.

”So… dad stayed, you know, to try and figure out why I was screaming bloody murder. And… that’s when they heard a a loud rumbling and a terrible crash. Mom said that at first she thought it was thunder, and that maybe it was a lightning bolt that frightened me. But no, the sound was not thunder, it was the roof collapsing… right above the entrance. If my dad had left when he was supposed to, if I hadnät started crying…”

”Then he would’ve been caught in the collapse,” Vee finished the sentence, met by a nod from Masha.

”Mhm.”

”You saved his life then,” Vee said tentatively, still not sure why Masha was telling her this.

”In a sense,” Masha mumbled, their hand in their pocket, fidgeting with the Hexas Hold’em cards. They pulled out the deck and held them up for Vee. They spoke slowly, hesitating. ”Are… you sure there’s no magic left in these?”

Vee frowned and took the cards. She smelled them carefully, flipping through the deck. It honestly looked kinda funny.

”No,” she said after a little while. ”Not even a little spark. Even the memory of magic is gone. All I can smell on them is you.” She handed the cards back and made an attempt at a smile. ”There’s literally not enough magic in them to do a card trick.”

Masha couldn’t help but smile at the joke, and they couldn’t help but giggle at how adorably proud Vee looked over herself for that pun.

”I really did think there might still be some magic left in them,” Masha said, shuffling the deck.

”Why?” Vee asked.

”Because…” Masha took a deep breath. Why was this so difficult to talk about? It really shouldn��t be. ”Last night, at the Haunted Hayride, just before we ran into you and Jacob… I drew some cards…”

One more deep breath. Inhale, exhale. This was the moment. Time to see if they really were crazy.

They drew the first card in the deck.

”The Two-Headed Snake. A being that is dual in nature, something that is not what it appears to be at first,” Masha said. They handed the card to Vee, who was looking… how would you describe the look? Eyes wide, mouth open and jaw slack. Flabbergasted, perhaps? One might even go as far as to say she looked gobsmacked.

They drew the second card in the deck.

”The Light illuminates and reveals things in the dark.” They handed that card to Vee.

They drew the third card in the deck.

”The Red String. A deep connection.” Masha swallowed. ”Like friends, or people who are destined to meet.” They handed that card over to Vee as well. ”I didn’t know it at the time, but in hindsight… it’s an odd coincidence, right? The Two-Headed snake is obviously you, a snake with multiple faces. Then we have the light which reveals things, just like how you revealed the truth to us, shed light on the situation so to say. And The Red String, well… we were obviously connected, since we became friends at camp and then ran into each other again, even after you became someone else.”

”That… does… make sense… kinda,” Vee said, talking slowly as she tried to process what was going on.

”And it’s not only that, but this night, I shuffled the deck again and I drew those exact same three cards,” Masha said, their voice ramping up as they got more worked up. ”And now I pulled the same three cards again! That can’t be random chance, it just can’t! I thought there might be some magic left in the cards, but if there isn’t…” The sentence trailed off.

Of course they had thought about it many times before, of course, what kid hadn’t? That dream every misunderstood kid has, the dream of being special. Masha had poured over books, badly produced documentaries, and no end of shady internet forums talking about psychic powers and the like. People whi claimed they could see ghosts, or bend spoons, or see the future. susually, these people wanted you money, but every so often there appeared to be someone genuine. And even more rarely, there appeared to be someone who really could do the magical things they claimed.

”Actually…” Vee said slowly, scratching the back of her head. She gave the three cards back to Masha, who shuffled them back into the deck. ”There’s no magic in the cards, and they weren’t enchanted with oracle magic, so they couldn’t tell the future anyway… but maybe there’s something… special about you. Because, um…” Her gaze fell to the ground, like she was avoiding eye contact. ”You do… smell kinda weird.”

”Weird in what way?” Masha said a little too quickly, for the moment forgetting what they were talking about and everything Vee had said before that.

”I-it’s not b-bad or anything, just… strange,” Vee assured them, still not meeting their eyes.”You smell of… metal.”

”…metal?” Masha said, confused. ”What kind of metal?”

”It’s not really like any metal I know,” Vee clarified. ”It’s more like a metallic smell.”

”And that’s weird?” Masha asked, trying to get Vee to explain just what she was talking about.

”Yeah…” Vee finally looked up again, meeting Masha’s eyes with hers. ”I was super confused when we first met, because no other human smelled like you. They all smelled like soap, and hormones, and regular stuff. And you did too, but you also had that other smell. But… you remember Dr. Jante?”

Masha nodded. Of course they remembered the head honcho at camp. It was undeniably ironic that Reality Check Camp, which aimed to make weird kids ”normal” was created and lead by Dr. Jante, a man who was inarguably a massive weirdo himself.

”He smelled like that too,” Vee said. ”So I just kinda figured some humans smelled like that. But if what you’re saying is true, then maybe there is something more to it. Maybe… maybe humans can do magic too! My kind evolved to track witch magic, not human magic, so maybe that’s why I wouldn’t recognize it!”

”D-do… do you really think so?” Masha said. It actually took them some effort to hold back a tear. Vee, someone so incredibly special, a real demon from a world of magic and miracles thought they might be magical too. It was everything they could've ever dreamed of.

”I mean, what else could it be?” Vee said enthusiastically. "You said it yourself, the chances of getting those same three cards three times in a row are astronomical. So if a funny coincidence is off the table, then what’s left?”

”Could I really be magic? For real?” Masha asked, their voice shaking, not out of stress, or anger, or sadness, no. Out of joy; they had a big dumb smile on their face. They looked down at their hands, halfway expecting sparks to fly from their fingertips. ”Can that really be true?”

”i don’t know that it couldn’t be true,” Vee said with a shrug and a big smile of her own. ”Why don’t we ask the cards?”

”Oh… yeah!” Masha said, excited. Of course, what kind of fortune teller were they, standing here asking questions, when they should be consulting the cards. They shuffled the cards again while Vee shuffled next to them to get a good look.

The first card had an image of a black bird.

”The Raven,” Masha said, saying the first thing that came to their mind. ”An oft maligned bird, it’s nonetheless intelligent and beautiful in its own way.”

The next card showed a single arrow with an ornate metal arrowhead.

”The Arrow. A… weapon of war, or…” Masha bit their lip, trying to figure out what the card was trying to tell them. ”Direction? Showing the the way or going somewhere.”

The third cad had a crystal ball from which a ghostly figure was emerging.

”The Spirit. A teller of the future summoned to give wisdom or aid to the living.”

”Seems clear as day to me,” Vee said. She pointed at the first card. ”The bird is obviously you, ’oft maligned, but intelligent and beautiful.’ And this arrow…” Vee moved her finger from The Raven, in the direction of The Arrow, which was pointing at… ”The Spirit. That’s the symbol of the Oracle Coven, and they can see the future.” She beamed at Masha.

”I…I.” Masha didn’t know what to say. They finally lost the battle against the tears, as small droplets of joy started rolling down their cheeks. ”Thank you,” they whispered, leaning in even closer to Vee. ”You have no idea how much this means to me.”

”O-oh, it’s really no big deal,” Vee laughed awkwardly, her face becoming a deep red color. ”I jus-”

Masha interrupted her by pulling her into a deep hug. Vee made an ”Eep!” sound and stood frozen for a second before she returned the embrace, holding on to Masha hard.

She held on very hard.

Almost a little too hard.

”V-vee,” Masha said after about a minute. ”It’s.. getting hard to breathe.

”Ohmygosh, so sorry!” Vee yelled and let Masha go, nearly pushing them over in the process. ”I’m so sorry!” she said again, hr face red as a beet. ”I, uh… constrictor instinct?”

Despite being short of breath, Masha couldn’t help but laugh at that, which in turn made Vee giggle awkwardly.

”You know,” Masha said as they dried their tears. ”When we first started on this walk, I didn’t expect to learn this much about myself. Mostly I expected to teach you boring history facts and maybe to learn a bit more about you, and…” They stopped at a realization. Something they, both of them, had forgotten. Something kinda important.

”What is it?” Vee asked, noticing the change in Masha’s expression.

”…we forgot the car, didn’t we?”

”…we did.” Vee sighed. ”Aw, shoot.” The walk back would be almost an hour.

xxXXxx

Going back in time a bit, to when Clara left the cafe in such a hurry. She had gone to the right, the opposite direction of The Magic Circle. She did not want to see the scene of the crime, she was desperate to avoid it. Coming to Robin’s Roast, so close, had been a mistake.

What no one knew at this point in time was that if Clara had walked past The Magic Circle at that moment, past Vee, the basilisk in hiding… then this story would have had a very different ending. Sadly, that was not to be. Fate, it would seem, has a sense of humor.

To Be Continued…

#the owl house #fanfiction #fanfic #the owl house fanfiction #vee #veesha

23 notes · View notes

mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 1 year

Text

Debt

"There is always something fishy about somebody helping you out of nowhere." Wei Wuxian once told Nie Huaisang, when he offered to copy the rules in his place as students in the Cloud Recesses. In truth, Nie Huaisang did have a favor to ask in exchange for his kindness - receiving help cheating for a following exam - but that one exchange stuck in Nie Huaisang's mind beyond the funny memory of his youthful distaste for studying.

There is never favor done disinterestedly, something is always expected in turn - but weirdly enough, Wei Wuxian never expected to get anything for the favors he did for other people. It always made Nie Huaisang wonder whether this made Wei Wuxian incredibly kind or incredibly stupid. Payment should be expected, required and received - the world is transactional.

Nie Huaisang's world has always been that way. He has always been certain everybody else's worlds were the same, they had to be.

A few weeks before Wei Wuxian was sent back to Lotus Pier, an exam had to take place - and not the kind that Nie Huaisang could skip or be helped to cheat in. Students had to undergo a cultivation skills test under supervision from a representative from their home sect, physical proof of their progress under Lan guidance.

Most other sects sent one of their best cultivators or the sect leader's advisor - but for the Nie, Nie Mingjue himself announced he would be witnessing his brother's performance. He wanted to see for himself whether Nie Huaisang had taken his bout at the Cloud Recesses seriously - and that had him lose three nights of sleep trying to think over a solution.

"Your brother knows you're not very... cultivation-inclined." Jiang Cheng trie, the night before the exam, tired of Huaisang's ceaseless, panicked pacing around their room, "I'm sure he doesn't expect much from you."

"You are a horrible motivational speaker, Jiang-xiong." Huaisang glared, flitting his fan closed. "You don't know what my brother is like! He will skin me alive in front of everyone, rules be damned, if I don't do well!"

"Then maybe you should have actually put in some effort instead of drawing porn all day!"

"Go fu-"

"Nie-xiong, I have an idea." Wei Wuxian finally intervened after having quietly, thoughtfully watched the exchange between his roommates. "I don't know if it will work, I can't tell you what it is yet, but I think I might just save your ass."

Nie Huaisang's eyes sparkled with hope for the first time in the last three days and he threw himself over Wei Wuxian like the most grateful, melodramatic maiden, tears in his eyes and everything. "My ass will forever be grateful and indebted to you!"

And so, the day of the exam came, and Nie Huaisang tried not to think of his fate if whatever Wei Wuxian had planned would fail. He would probably be displayed at the gates of Qinghe with the word "disappointment" hanging off a plaque around his neck, eaten by crows, too shameful for a funeral. Or Nie Mingjue would make him train the saber twice as often, which was basically the same thing, if not worse.

Fate seemed to have smiled Huaisang's way that day - he was the last on the exam list, so he would have plenty of time to get his affairs in order and not regret anything if his brother did drag him to Qinghe and killed him.

He watched his friends undergo the exam one by one. Some were decent, others mediocre, a few exceptional. Of course Wei-xiong was the latter, drawing perfect talismans, displaying perfect sword forms, shooting straight on target, dispersing the fake ghosts and ghouls with swift cuts of his Suibian.

It was quite enjoyable watching him, to be honest - and Nie Huaisang found it incredibly funny to notice it hadn't been just him to notice that. Lan Wangji appeared bewitched himself, but nobody save for Nie Huaisang's observant eyes and Lan Xichen's knowing smile seemed to acknowledge that.

Interesting.

But before he could ponder any implications and draw up any matchmaking plans, Nie Huaisang's name had been called. He stood up on shaky legs and avoided his brother's gaze fiercely. He did not want to feel the humiliation of his impending failure before it happened.

Just as he was about to step into the training grounds, Wei Wuxian stood up from his seat among the Jiang delegation. "I have something to say."

The exam proctor sighed, "Yes?"

"Nie-xiong has been ill during most of our training, his constitution is weak and he has missed much of the practice the rest of us have undergone. His performance is likely to be subpar."

Nie Huaisang sent his friend a horrified, scandalized look. Your plan is to publicly humiliate me?!

"Which is why I am asking to take the exam in his place. Nie-xiong and I have studied together extensively, and he has great potential in politics, though his cultivation skills are not as developed. I do not believe it is fair to test him in the very opposite of his talents."

Nie Mingjue looked over the youth, curious. He had never known that the Jiang sect could produce that kind of person.

"If you fail," he started, "whatever should your punishment be?"

"Whatever sect leader Nie and the Lan sect finds fit."

"I will destroy your sword, then."

Wei Wuxian did not falter, bowing deeply, with respect. "I accept."

Nie Huaisang stood, motionless, shocked, staring wide-eyed at his friend - but Wei Wuxian only gave him a reassuring smile in exchange.

"Do not give him the same test again." Nie Mingjue asked the exam proctor. "Up the difficulty. Audacity must be backed by deeds."

Wei Wuxian smiled, confident, at the challenge. "Do your worst."

That one time, Huaisang fainted for real.

---

He woke up in his room, a cold cloth on his forehead and his brother by his side. He jerked awake immediately, "Where's Wei-xiong?! Did you-"

"He passed." Mingjue replied, as if it had been the most natural thing to say. "Which means that you did, too. Undeserved, but I am a man of my word."

Huaisang flopped down onto the bed. "If it's any consolation, I didn't know he'd do that. He's been dealing with me being anxious and annoying the past few days and... decided to help, I guess."

"I will accept this result only on one condition, though."

"What?"

"Bring that boy into the Nie sect with you."

"Da-ge, there's no way I-"

"A favor for a favor."

And he left, though Huaisang felt none the better.

---

The war started quickly after that, and Nie Mingjue seemed to have forgotten all about the favor he asked of his brother. Then, he became ill, qi deviated more and more often, and ultimately died, nearly taking Huaisang with him.

And so started his many questions as to how, why and who, and the difficult journey of finding out the answers, grappling with the painful truth and the thirst for justice that came after that.

But the moment he saw Mo Xuanyu walking about with Hanguang-Jun in tow, beginning to uncover the mystery that Huaisang now knew as his brother's wrongful death, he figured he could count it as him finally paying back his brother's favor.

In a way, at least.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #writing attempts #nhs #wwx #jc #nmj #lwj

119 notes · View notes

nevadas-night-time-novelist · 2 months

Note

How about Deimos x Reader x Sanford? I kept seeing the 2B x reader x Hank stuff so I thought why not with the other two?

Deimos x Reader x Sanford - idk i cant think of a title for this one.

If Doc happened to have money saved over, he'd always put it towards an extra set of hands or two in the base. Being splintered from the main S.Q. hub put a bit of a strain on him and his small team of mercs, any additional help they could afford was a lifesaver.

Initially you'd picked up a short term contract with him, kill a few grunts and get paid, currently the most stable from of work out in the badlands, but you quickly found yourself becoming part of the furniture.

Deimos could get along with anyone and everyone, Sanford took a cautious approach but he warmed up to you in no time, Hank hadn't tried to kill you yet and had even given you a thumbs up after working with them as a duo, and Doc enjoyed that your work was cheap yet good quality.

Sitting in the softest chair in the base, you were decompressing after a laborious solo mission, reading an old paperback that Doc had brought in one day. Often the older man would bring home new literature he'd found on his own ventures, and in times where there was little else to do, his library was perfect for killing time.

"-And yeah, brains all over the place." Sanford's deep voice piqued your attention, sounds like he and Deimos are back.

"Heheh- Dude that's hilarious. So bummed I missed that." The shorter of the duo entered first, and his gaze fell on you instantly. "Woah, look who beat us back. Doc dishin' out the easy missions to you then eh?"

He was a handsome man, that was undeniable, and his charming disposition added to his appeal. "Yeah, cause I'm his favourite." You joked back. "He's adamant about not killing. Can't say the same for you twoooo~"

"Psh, Doc knows we can handle tougher jobs than you. Who took down Hank together?" Sanford's voice boomed, he was still high off adrenaline and excitable.

"We did, boi!" Dei grinned, drawing his hand back. There was a loud, audible clap as the two high-fived. A successful mission always lead to sparks of energy in the air, even when they were exhausted.

You couldn't help but giggle at that. "Okay, sure, you guys stopped Hank that one time. But I've got the power to stop 'em with words alone before they fly off the handle, and that's real skill."

Deimos threw himself over the back of the chair. "Blah, you're not the smoothest talker of the group. Everyone knows that's my job."

"Sure about that?" You set your book down, hand caressing his stubbly chin, and for once, he didn't have a witty retort. Dei's face turned bright red, cheeks flushed.

"Uh.. huh."

Sanford raised an eyebrow. "Wow, you actually managed to shut him up. Impressive." He sat on the arm of the chair, throwing his arm around the back of it. "But can you take the heat as well as you dish it?" Lifting his sunglasses, he showed off his gold eyes.

Fuck. He had you there. His lengthy lashes perfectly framed his eyes, he was gorgeous and he damn well knew it, and he knew you knew it too. "Thought not." He smiled, good looks and a great brain, there was nothing this man was incapable of.

"Sure, fine, you got me there, but are you ready for my retort?" Your face felt warm, San had gotten under your skin.

He raised an eyebrow again, silent anticipation. Careful observation of Dei and San's actions lead you to figure out his weaknesses, and copying one of Dei's favoured techniques, you darted forward, planting a kiss on his neck, just under his jaw.

"Well shit, lookie that." Dei pinched San's cheek. "They've got you there Fordie. Heh, guess you're pretty decent. But uh, y'really gonna kiss my boyfriend in front of me?" He tilted his head, frowning slightly.

"Well um-" He waved his hand, cutting you off.

"So cold. Y'know out of the two of us, I had a thing for you first. Only after I told San about my crush on ya did he see the light. Tch, and you kissed him first." Dei lowered his head, visor covering his eyes.

"Wait, what?" You looks between the both, each silent and not meeting your gaze. "You're kidding, right?"

Silence.

"You're not kidding. I suppose I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel the same."

A shy smile crossed San's face. "You do?"

Dei spun his visor around. "How could they not? Just look at your cute face."

"Yes. Frankly I'm surprised it's mutual on both ends. But I guess I am actually the most charismatic after all, you've been dethroned Deimos. By your own admission too. How's that feel?" Deimos looked to Sanford, a grin spreading across his face.

Both men leaned down, silencing you as they kissed your cheeks.

Oh my.

#deimos #sanford #madness combat #madcom #sanmos #sanmos x reader #deimos x reader #sanford x reader #madness combat x reader #madness combat reader insert #x gon deliver to ya

30 notes · View notes

megplant · 11 months

Text

Killshot Pt. 2

Tangerine x F!Reader

Summary: Rival assassins/enemies to lovers Tangerine and Fem!Reader. You haven't seen Tangerine in years, since an unfortunate incident between the two of you in Johannesburg. He's popped up again while you're undercover hunting a mark - the same mark he's after.

Wordcount: 5.4k

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, language, some nudity, drugs/mention of drugs.

A/N: This will probably actually end up being chapter 3 when I clean everything up and put it on AO3, but I'm bad at waiting and I love posting my finished scenes for some feedback! This scene would serve as a flashback - chronologically maybe a year prior to the events of Pt. 1. Let me know if you're liking the direction this headed, or if it's feeling too slow/drawn out! Thanks so much for all the positive feedback on the first chapter !!

Read Pt 1 - here

__________________________________________________________

Your head pivots slowly, surveying the ballroom and surrounding crowds while the Duke schmoozes. Introductions made, you are now not much more than an accessory. The shiny bauble on his arm to complement his image, nothing more. You play the part: simpering, beautiful, bored. Your gaze roams around the milling crowd, outwardly lazy, disguising your focused searching.

You're hoping to get a glimpse of your mark out here in the open before you need to pin down his location more precisely. It will make things easier later when you’ll need to find him in the dark, dingy corners of a secret bacchanalia in the basement. This opening hour of the benefit will be your best chance; if you just keep an eye on the entrance and the bar you’re sure to catch a glimpse of him.

Someone does catch your eye, a man's flashy gold jewelry catches the light in a way that grabs your attention. You scan the general area, and sip your champagne, choking on a gasp when you realize just who this man is.

Your date checks in on your polite coughs with nothing more than an annoyed side-eye and a squeeze on your arm that has you giggle appropriately and make your excuses. Of course, you will return when you have properly collected yourself, so sorry, so sorry.

He stands at the outskirts of the bar, a fresh glass of what you’d bet is whiskey in one hand. He looks to be surveying the party himself, but with no plus one sparkling on his arm to draw the eye he stands out.

You think he would stand out anywhere.

In this case, the classic lines of his crisp black three piece suit offer a striking contrast to his thick gold jewelry, slicked back hair, and perfectly groomed mustache.

He is quite distinctive in the crowd. His white collared shirt is loose, unbuttoned one too many to be entirely decent and without a tie. He looks at once expensive, but there's an aura of grit and sleaze about him that marks him as other in this crowd.

Dangerous.

The word materializes in your mind with a flash of gunsmoke and a throbbing in your shoulder. You dismiss the frisson of fear that runs through you at the unbidden memory, and square your shoulders.

Before you know it, you have nearly downed your champagne glass and are heading over to the bar. Presumably, for a refill.

You sidle into place at his side, silently, fiddling with your glass between your fingers as you mimic his stance looking out across the crowd.

“It’s been a long time,” You greet him with a barely restrained smirk. “Since Johannesburg.”

You can’t help yourself, you drop an inch of pretense to turn your head and take in his reaction. You never could have attempted to guess at his reaction, but as you meet his gaze, the intensity there surprises you. He doesn’t look angry, like you might have expected, but he also doesn’t look nearly as surprised as you imagined.

He holds your gaze for a long minute, and there’s something intense and unspoken behind his piercing blue eyes that you couldn’t hope to decipher. Finally, he lifts his glass to his lips, and swallows a slow sip.

“Working?” He questions, voice hard, and you can feel the slamming of the door between you as he shifts into his more put-on professional demeanor.

Despite the tension hanging between you, you realize that he most definitely is here working and it’s likely the exact same contract that you’re here for.

You know in that instant that the two of you will most certainly not be having some kind of terse heart-to-heart here tonight. Pity.

He seems to have the same realization as you, as you catch his eyes flick to yours quickly, accusingly.

Your heartbeat kicks into overdrive in response, your muscles tense expectantly.

His eyes narrow.

Your shoulder throbs with phantom pain around a long-healed bullet wound.

You know exactly what Tangerine is capable of.

You shift your weight to your back foot, ready to run -

“There you are!” The booming voice of your date carries across the crowd, and you’re so tense that you jump at the sudden intrusion. The champagne in your glass splashes back in your trembling hand, and you turn away from Tangerine.

“Are you alright?”

His timing could not have been better. He strides into place at your side with one hand sliding around your waist as he checks in with you with a glance. His other hand is thrown out for a handshake with your new conversation partner.

Before Tangerine can say something stupid to ruin your cover you rush to fill in the blanks of introductions yourself, and you interject before anyone can speak.

“Ah, William, yes, I’m so sorry! I’d gone for refreshments, and ran into an old friend. William, this is an old colleague of mine, Percy Smith. Percy, this is William Statton, he is a very generous donor to our foundation.”

Your eyebrows are raised high at Tangerine, pleading, as you make the “introductions”. Your hand shakes as you place it on William’s arm, adrenaline surging through you.

Tangerine shakes hands with the man, finally looking his way after tearing his disbelieving gaze away from yours. You can see the mocking laugh on his lips even if no one else can, but he is a professional, after all. He plays Gentleman to the hilt. If you didn’t know him much, much better, you might even buy it.

“Mr. Statton, charmed. Yes, I just had the delightful surprise of running into our mutual friend here.” Tangerine gestures his glass in your direction with a knowing smile.

You notice he’s careful not to say your name, since he doesn’t know which one you’re using. It might make you blush, if your nerves weren’t so frayed trying to figure out exactly what game he’s playing.

“It really has been a long, long time since we worked together.”

He bites off the second ‘long’ in a way that hints at his aggravation just below the surface. His thumb runs along his mustache absently as he takes in the two of you together. It’s an uncomfortably analytical gaze.

William watches ‘Percy’ watch you, and glances in your direction, uncertain and clearly confused. Slowly, he asks, “Sorry…where did you say you two used to work together?”

“Johannesburg!” Tangerine cuts you off, forcefully interjecting the word before you can state your carefully crafted lie. You can practically see the mischief twinkling in his blue eyes as he looks your way.

“...Yes, that’s right!” There’s a long pause before you’re able to jump back in with a cheerful cadence, despite your faltering. “The foundation had a mission out there, and Percy was one of the other volunteers.”

“Right, the foundation.” Tangerine stresses the word ‘foundation’ in a way that lets you know he thinks this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“Oh, with his brother - Thomas!” You add brightly, and you don’t miss the way his mustache twitches in annoyance at your cover names. “Is Thomas with you tonight? I would certainly love to catch up with him, as well.”

Tan’s eyes narrow at you, as he realizes what you’re playing at. You want to know if he has backup, and where it’s coming from. He smirks, glancing around the crowded ballroom. You follow his eyeline, sure you see a glimpse of blonde curls in the crowd, but you blink and there’s no Lemon in sight.

“I’m sure he’s around. Never quite know what that Thomas is getting up to.” His tone is much too amiable to be genuine. He is definitely loving messing with you way too much.

You smile thinly while you glare at him, annoyed. “Of course!” You force out, intent on carefully extricating yourself from this conversation. Just as you open your mouth, ready to make your excuses to the ladies room, Tangerine cuts in.

“So, William, you must have made a hefty donation to her foundation to score the VIP tickets tonight…” He pauses to take a sip from his glass, clearly savoring the moment. “But, that doesn’t even matter does it, because you own this mansion, don’t you - Duke Statton?”

Tangerine locks eyes with you, although it would appear that he was still talking to William. He wants you to know that he knows just what you’re up to. “I do apologize, I’m sure you’re trying to go incognito this evening. But, ah, I couldn’t help but recognize you.”

“You recognized a Duke from a small Scottish Peerage?” You snort. You don’t think you could emanate a more hateful aura if you tried.

William looks bashful and laughs loudly, embarrassed in the way where he’s not embarrassed at all and loves being recognized.

“You’ve got me there! I may be hosting their benefit, but the Foundation does such incredible work that I wanted to get involved on a more personal level. Anna has been so fantastic, she’s been working with me to get my own charity off the ground!” He says.

William’s hand comes up to rest over yours on his arm, giving it the slightest squeeze. Tangerine’s eyes follow the movement with laser precision. He clears his throat and looks back up at William, the posh professional gent plastered on his face in full force. “Anna. Well. She’s always been a very hard worker. You couldn’t be in better hands.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think he winks at you.

William misses the gesture, as he had taken the pause in conversation to check his watch, and tap it thoughtfully. He taps your hand, as well, a reminder.

“Anna - we have the…other engagement.” He says to you quietly.

You nod, nearly delirious in relief for the excuse to get away from Tangerine. The sooner you could get this job done and get as far away from here as possible, the better.

“Yes, of course - I’m so sorry, Percy, we actually have to be going. But, it was so lovely to see you, and please give my love to Thomas!”

“Hold on a moment-” Tangerine raises his eyebrows, more knowingly than you like, and lifts his own wrist to check his watch, as well. He chuckles and glances at William, fishing two fingers into his vest pocket and pulling out a familiar red keycard.

You recall William handing you an identical keycard while in the limo on the way here. It will allow you access to the sprawling complex below your feet, where the real party is taking place tonight.

William’s hosting your benefit, sure, but only as the cover to auction off some priceless piece of art recently plundered from its indigenous home. The bidding is closed, the sealed envelopes from all bidders due by 10:15 pm, precisely.

It turned out that your Foundation’s benefit served as a lovely cover for William to host a large number of auspicious attendees and for those attendees to drop large sums of money without raising any suspicions. William had been quick to accept your invitation to work together, thinking he was using you.

The mark you’re after happens to be a black market dealer that runs in the same circles as Stanton, so the obvious way in was to make the connection with the Duke. You were able to provide him a perfect cover for his auction and wiggle into his inner circle over the last few weeks. And if he happened to be pursuing you beyond a professional capacity, then it was useful to you as an option to exploit if necessary. Just being on the arm of the Duke would open every door in this place without having to worry about security at all, and that really was priceless.

And yet. Here you are watching your perfectly laid plans unravel before your eyes. This was supposed to be a quick and easy job, with the benefits of a luxurious date with a rich and handsome Duke. It was all set up to be a cakewalk with the Duke as your unwitting skeleton key. The Twins being here was making things decidedly more complex.

Your eyes widen as you see Tangerine with the keycard, and you glance at William. The two men look each other over, doing one last size up of the other, trying to discern if they were both ‘in’ on the secret. You see William break into a knowing grin, matched by Percy, and you barely suppress a groan.

“Downstairs?” William questions, knowingly.

“I guess we do have an appointment.” The delight dripping off Tangerine’s words was sickly sweet. The two men chuckle together conspiratorially and you start thinking of ways to get rid of Tangerine. Get rid of William. Get them away from each other, get Tangerine away from you - you were scrambling to come up with contingencies.

You softly clear your throat, patting William’s hand over your own. “The bids are due any minute…” You diligently avoid Tangerine’s gaze as you play the part of the simpering date. If his eyes are lit up with mockery, you don’t care to see it.

William nods with finality, and he reaches out for a last handshake with Tangerine. “Knew you were a good sort, Percy, old chap. Find me after, we’ll have a drink.”

You notice the sharp smile from Tangerine and tense - you’re never quite sure what he’s going to do next, and you know that crazed look in his eyes. It never means anything good.

Tangerine returns the forceful handshake, his smile dripping sarcasm as he catches your eye and holds your gaze while he speaks. “I’d love that.”

When he saunters away, towards the sweeping staircases that lead to the private elevators, you let out a long and slow breath. You keep your eye on him long enough to note that no Lemon appears out of the crowd to join him before he disappears down the stairs.

William is chatting benignly with you about the auction as he steers you towards the same staircases and you make blithe responses, only half-listening.

The two of you descend the grand staircase, the exquisitely appointed decor of the glittering ballroom melting away and revealing the practical concrete and plexiglass of the complex hidden below. The clip of your heels change timbre from light and staccato on imported marble to loud and echoing off of cold concrete.

There are a few other couples and groups milling around as the auction deadline approaches, waiting to get to the party. But, all you really notice is that Tangerine is nowhere to be seen.

Is he already downstairs?

Your anxiety ratchets up a notch. You won’t be able to get the mark alone for a little while, yet. If Tangerine’s “plan” is to burst in guns blazing, you’re fucked.

You approach an elevator bank, and William leads you to one off to the side. “This is my private elevator - even your card won’t work here.” He presses a thumb into the sensor, calling the elevator as he leans against it. He obviously thinks this is incredibly swoon worthy.

Obliging, you look appropriately awestruck, and slip the keycard back into your clutch.

“Will this take us to the party?” You ask, using your real nerves to lend credibility to your character.

You might be terrified that an unhinged wildcard is roaming around unchecked and very likely to ruin your plans - but Anna is very nervous about breaking the law, but she’s just so excited to be here with the dashing Duke that she would do anything he asked.

“I have business to attend to, first,” He reminds you, ushering you into the elevator after it opens. It’s as opulent as the ballroom above, completely out of place within these sterile concrete halls.

You pout up at him, and he chuckles, caressing your cheek and using his finger to push your chin up to hold your gaze.

“Don’t fret. You can go on ahead without me and start…enjoying. I’ll find you once I’m done with all the tedious paperwork.”

You simper appropriately, averting your gaze as if you were just too overwhelmed by his attention. Everything was going according to plan. The original plan, anyway. He should be occupied with the auction long enough for you to set up the next pieces of Plan A and perhaps prep some backup contingencies for when things inevitably go off the rails.

The elevator dings: a muted, polite sound, and you are let out into what looks like an identical set of concrete hallways. William gestures to a tuxedo-clad brick shithouse of a man to escort you. You certainly wouldn’t want to run into this guard if you were down here alone.

“This way to the party, ma’m.” The guard grunts at you after William takes his leave.

You follow his hulking form through the complex, taking careful note of each turn and distance traveled. Plan A does involve calmly coming back the way you came, and you diligently note the route, but…part of you has a sinking feeling you’ll end up needing some other exit strategy.

It doesn’t take long to reach a door that looks different than all the others. Its large, double doors are a tufted black leather that reminds you of an upscale strip club. The guard opens one of the doors for you, and you step into the dimly lit space, hesitantly.

Despite your meticulous planning, you weren’t sure exactly what to expect here. William had been cagey with the details, wanting to surprise you, he said. Test you, you thought.

You only knew for certain what you’d been able to glean from his hacked financials. You’d found receipts for imported liquors and cigars, a DJ, and an entirely unique staff from the benefit. But there were plenty more cash payouts you couldn’t trace. You imagined most of that cash had gone to sex workers and drugs, but you still didn’t know what the Duke might be capable of. God knows you’d seen much worse than strippers and coke before. Ultimately, you were prepared for any number of debauched possibilities.

Entering the lounge, you find that your suspicions were only mostly right. Strippers are spotlighted on small, raised daises with crowds grouped around them. You see several card tables set up, with what looks like professional dealers manning them. The seating is plush and abundant, with long couches and tucked away booths encouraging attendees to cuddle up and get comfortable. You see people - both subtly and not - kissing, touching, sucking, even fucking.

You quickly avert your gaze from flashes of naked bodies only partially obscured by tasteful velvet curtains, feeling your face heat up. It was nothing you hadn’t seen before, but not quite what you had expected. It seemed the Duke’s well of possible depravity ran deeper than you had given him credit for.

The lighting is politely dim, allowing the partygoers the illusion of anonymity and privacy. You take advantage, keeping your face in shadow as you step through the lounge and head for the bar. It gives you a moment to compose yourself, and to scan your surroundings.

Naked and nearly naked women walk around distributing refreshments. You can see the bar now, it’s classic mahogany, a Victorian marvel nestled in the back of the large room. It isn’t very crowded, you note as you approach, with most couples enjoying themselves elsewhere.

Before you get there, a topless blonde walks up to you with a tray filled with long, white lines. You give her a shy smile, and reach into your clutch. You pull out fifty quid and lay it on her tray, shaking your head as she presents the tray to you.

“No, thanks, just - can you tell Natasha to find me at the bar? Tell her Anna’s here, please.”

The woman just shrugs, pocketing the money in a small pouch around her waist. “Whatever you want, sugar.” She says easily, turning and moving back through the crowd.

Your shoulders hunch with tension as you find a barstool to perch on and wait. You go over and over what needs to happen next in your head, running it like a drill, again and again. The time is limited and there are wildcards at play, and you will not be able to relax until you regain some semblance of control over this fucking situation.

The bartender nodding at you is a welcome intrusion, and you at least have the clarity of mind to ask for two glasses of champagne. It isn’t long before another woman sidles up behind you, quietly making her presence known.

“Natasha,” You greet her with a nod, which she returns.

She forgoes a greeting, and speaks directly, her Russian accent making her words sound clipped and harsh. “Your man will be in third room down the private hallway. One hour. He ask for me - a blonde.”

She looks you up and down, in your high-necked gold ballgown with your long, brown hair tumbling down your shoulder. You chuckle at her expression, well aware of how you look next to Natasha, clad in nothing but a lacy, black thong and a sheer bra. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a severe braid. The two of you hardly look alike.

“Is that all?” She questions, suspicion lacing her words. She likely still couldn’t believe how this incredibly simple sharing of information had netted her such a large cash advance from you.

“That’s it,” You reassured her with a smile, pulling out your phone and swiping through to send the final half of her payment. “The rest is in your account, now. Just give me the signal when the dressing room is empty and leave the room key in your locker. Do not acknowledge me from this point forward.”

Natasha nodded, looking mildly intimidated by your sudden shift in demeanor, but ultimately cool and collected. She gave you another long look, and then turned to head back into the crowd. That was one piece slotted into place, you thought, letting out a long breath.

You stare out across the lounge for a moment longer, cataloging your surroundings. You determine that you have at least a minute or two to yourself, and you slump in your seat. Two glasses of champagne sit at your elbow, having been silently delivered while you were speaking with Natasha.

With smooth, practiced movements, you slip a small dropper bottle out of your clutch and quickly dispense four drops of clear liquid into one of the champagne glasses. You swipe your thumb across your bottom lip and smear it on the bottom edge of the dosed glass. The glass is gently set on a cocktail napkin just slightly to the left of your elbow and your clutch is snapped closed with the dropper inside when you feel a hand on your arm behind you.

Your sultry smile is fixed in place as you turn, expecting the Duke back slightly earlier than planned.

Of course, it’s Tangerine.

Your expression deadens as you realize your mistake, then hardens as your pulse quickens anxiously. Tangerine only smirks at you, one hand in his pocket with a casual lean as he stands in front of you.

His swagger emanates off of him - it’s dreadful. He thinks he’s “got” you and he’s so goddamned smug about it.

It’s cute.

He runs his hand up your arm and skims it just over your shoulder and skates his fingers across the back of your neck, eliciting a trail of goosebumps in his wake. You sit still, breath held tightly in your chest. You’re trapped in between the desire to lean into the touch or run for your life.

It takes you a beat too long to realize he was reaching around you to grab your champagne glass. Cheeky bastard.

You strike out with a sharp pinch to the nerves in his wrist, sending a buzzing pain through his arm. He winces mockingly, pulling his hand back as he slides into the empty barstool beside you.

You keep a haughty expression on your face, deliberately lifting and replacing the champagne flutes in front of you. You are looking straight ahead, knowing that if you pretend to ignore him it’ll only piss him off more. Your lips twitch with amusement, feeling his glare burn holes in the side of your head.

It feels gleeful to see him squirm, and so you make an elaborate meal out of taking a drink of your champagne. You swirl the golden liquid, observe the bubbles, and savor your long, slow sip. After you gently set the glass back down, you use a cocktail napkin to pat your lips dry. You open your clutch to pull out a compact mirror and lipstick, when Tangerine exclaims-

“All right-”

He leans in close to you and slides his hand under the bar top, pressing a blade to your side, tucked into you and facing the bar - from behind anyone would think you’re just having an intimate conversation. You freeze in place, hardly daring to breathe.

“I don’t appreciate you taking the piss, love.” He says, voice rumbling, low and mean. He digs the blade in, making sure you feel it through the thick boning of your dress’ corset. You can’t help the shiver that runs through you; a potent mix of fear and headiness at being this close to him after so long.

“But, it’s so easy to work you up. And you’re so cute when you’re pissy.” You match his volume, keeping yourself as still as you can while you smirk up at his furious glare.

You haven't got a fucking clue where you stand with Tangerine, and it makes you feel like you’re playing with a live wire. As far as you know, he’s only just found out you aren’t dead. As far as you know, the last time you saw him, he'd just sold you out and left you for dead. He’s unpredictable in the best of circumstances and you have no idea what he’ll do.

He exhales through his nose loudly, and the muscles in his neck all clench - he’s utterly enraged, and you know you’re poking the bear. You know. But you want to push him to his limit, fuck up his night and his money as thoroughly as you can - you want to rattle him.

You can’t help it, watching him try to reign in his rage is just too fucking funny and your smirk widens into a grin, taunting.

You’re reaching out for the livewire even as it sparks.

Lightning fast, Tangerine moves his free hand from the small of your back to the back of your neck. Before you can react, his fingers thread through your curls to lock onto the roots at the base of your scalp and he pulls - hard.

You gasp in pain and surprise, tears springing into your eyes at the sharp pain. He holds you in place like this, and he’s still subtle enough that from behind he just looks like your lover caressing your neck and playing with your hair.

“Cunt,” You hiss out, trapped between his unyielding grip and a knife at your belly. You see the way his mustache twitches at that - he likes to see you squirm, too.

You look down at the hand pressing a knife into you and glance at the the ostentatious gold watch on its wrist. It confirms your hunch - time’s just about up, and you really need to wrap this shit up. You cut to the chase.

“What do you want, Tangerine? How much do I have to pay you to fuck off?” You say, grinding out the demand as he keeps the iron grip on the back of your head.

He grins, and you catch a wolfish glint of white as a strobe light flashes past. His grip relaxes just slightly, enough to pass as pleasurable in different circumstances.

Not helpful.

“Ooh, that’s right. Wouldn’t want poncy Percy to come back and see us, would we?” Tangerine gives an experimental tug on your hair, and you just fucking know his narrowed eyes catch the way your eyelids flutter before you wince.

“You’re poncy Percy, you twat. He’s William.” You ignore his chuckle, ignoring the way the warm sound vibrates in your chest with want and settling on being fucking annoyed. “So, yes, would you mind, please, pissing the hell off?”

Something in the air between you has lightened, and you finally let yourself relax - you don't think he actually wants to kill you. At least not right now.

You test the waters by moving to pull your head slightly forward out of his grip. He tightens his hold for a moment, and then he lets you go entirely, dropping his hand. You note that he keeps the knife at your side - no trust amongst killers, you suppose.

“Are you still with the Firm?” He asks.

Your eyebrows raise, unable to hide your surprise at the question. This question is loaded, and you swallow hard - throat suddenly dry.

“Yes.” You nod once, forcing yourself to keep his eye contact.

Now Tangerine knows that the Firm knows you’re alive. And, of course, they handled your faked death. He knows you didn’t do it to get away and start a new life, like you always said. He knows what you’ve done.

He watches you with sharp focus and he asks you-

“Drop the contract.”

You’re unafraid of the knife at your side, but terrified of the piercing blue eyes holding you in place.

“You know I can’t.” Your voice is quiet, but you can hear the plea in your own words. He knows now you’re still at the Firm - he knows you complete your assignments. There is no other option.

You see the slightest softening in his body language, so you decide to push your luck.

“You owe me, one, anyway. For Joburg.” You say.

His nostrils flare and his mustache twitches in a way that lets you know he thinks you’re dead wrong and you fix him with a hateful glare.

“After Joburg?” You press, finally leaning into him and slipping your hand down to where his is holding the blade.

You know you’re running out of time, and you feel as breathless as if you had just fought him to the death. His hand is clenched hard around the handle of the knife, and he feels as unyielding as stone. His hands are as achingly warm as you remember, practically radiating heat under your own hand.

He’s quiet for a long moment, and you can feel the muscles in his arm flex and unflex. He's arguing with himself, you know, and you can only hope that he lands on ‘letting you live’ in his deliberation.

You let out a long breath of held tension as he pulls his hand away and tucks the blade in his waistcoat. Before you can open your mouth to say another word, he’s standing and straightening his jacket.

He’s fiddling with his cufflinks and staring off into the middle distance. You feel a wistful pang, watching him - closer than you ever thought you would get again, but he's still a million miles away.

You would give anything to be able to read his thoughts in this moment.

He finally looks at you, and you catch the same hardening of his demeanor as he turns to business. Your chest feels cold, you know he's shut you out - maybe for good now.

But, he's Tangerine. So he's unpredictable. Adaptable.

“Ten minutes lead, usual rules.” He speaks so casually, like he hasn’t invoked a shared past that you hadn’t dared acknowledge. Your mouth hangs open, shocked, and he smirks - happy to throw you off.

“I imagine your Prince will be here any second. You’ll need the head start.” He’s as cocky a bastard as ever, you think.

Tangerine glances in the mirrored wall behind the bar to smooth his mustache down and you catch his eye in the mirror. He stills his preening, meeting your stare.

You feel the timid flame of hope spark to life behind your heart and you swear you see something besides hate in his eyes.

You barely dare to breathe, let alone move, lest you break the spell.

“Why?” You croak out, tension making your voice rasp.

Tangerine holds your gaze, and you see him soften - just for a moment, you see a flash of the man you used to know - and then he looks away, like he can’t look you in the eye and answer.

“You don’t know everything.”

He’s already halfway across the lounge, about to disappear into another room, before you can collect yourself.

What the fuck does that mean?

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #mine #mineFic #killshot #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #tangerine fic #mineTangerine

65 notes · View notes