#and if i start then i fear i won't be able to stop

[hydrachea]

I speedran the 4.1 archon quest (and it was amazing) so #genshin spoilers is making a comeback for probably the next two or so weeks, adjust blacklists accordingly!

[captainswan618]

This song is so perfect for them, I'm actually gonna cry

Anyway here you go, have some more emotions!!!

[hexslvt]

i dont rly know what to do bc usually just leaving it at "we can flirt and nothing more" is feasible but them becoming my fp has Complicated it

[navree]

robert pattinson angling for a death in the family adaptation????? he really is the only batman for me

[neganium]

Guess who said he was quitting alcohol all of a week ago and is now (I'm assuming) fucking shitfaced, bc I'm 90% certain that my mom is afraid to say no to him!!!!

[keikakudori]

              HOW SURREAL THIS ENTIRE MOMENT WAS STARTING TO BECOME FOR THEM; Aizen did not know what it was that went through Gin's mind at this moment, but he was aware of how the younger man's reiatsu was flickering against his awareness, fluttering like the wings of a frightened bird. He knew this young man he had named his partner for decades, knew this was something that had been held back as much as that knowledge that had been carried around within akin to cancerous growth. The fault was his, just as what had happened that day had been something he could blame upon no one else but himself as well. Whatever rampaged through the thoughts of the man he had called viper with a biting affection ( then nothing but affection ), it was something tumultuous. Decades of holding back such a secret had obviously taken its own toll upon the younger man and Aizen could not chide him for that; he still held secrets of his own. Every relationship did work out to where both parties might have things they merely didn't share, but this had been far more than something as simple as I stole your dried persimmons in June twenty years ago. Would that it had only been something so simple, but that new information crystallized the hints he had seen and felt from his partner over the years, those flashes of murderous intent viewed now through a new lens.

              It was in the name of someone that he loved that Gin had done such a thing. Love could drive many a person to extremes of behavior and it had been love that had seen himself rise to claim the power that belonged to him at last. He could understand it all the moreso now with what he had done to the Quincy that had sought to cut down the young man that had killed him thrice over by now. And yet, Aizen could not find it within himself to turn away from the argent and that was itself a frustratingly amusing thing; one would think after the first time that he'd want nothing to do with him, nevermind what had come in the precession of having his chest blown open again, his body mirroring the wounds of that day. He hadn't missed that. But their moods had often reflected one another's, neither of them high strung, so to speak --- but more than capable of influencing one another in a variety of ways and they had been full of anger; it burnt out now, leaving but trailing wisps of smoky pain and regret and remorse to cloud the air instead of heated fury.

              Anger could -- and had, more than once --- make them lash out at one another and though the older man was still bleeding from the wounds struck him by those harsh words from Gin, no matter that his clothes were blood-stained tatters, that his chest ached where he'd been carved open before it'd been consumed once more in the fiery wrath of Kamishini no Yari's poison --- he could not turn away from him. The darkness had pressed down upon the traitor, the weight of a mountain, a continent, engulfing him in a void wrought by the bones of the earth. How fast his hands would have been to grip and hold Gin's to restrain him. But at this moment, those hands that had been stained by the blood of innocents sought only to hold this man that he cared for. Anger had made him speak out harshly, accusatory though he had no room to be such. Those words were unfair to Gin, unfair to the way things had gone. It was unfair of him to try and say such things when he knew far too well why the younger man would have withheld such knowledge from him. 

              After all, he had taught the younger man many lessons in his time and that meant that he had managed to find the best ways to let the younger man get to him where no one else could have. Nevermind that he'd also taught Gin what he would and wouldn't notice over the years, providing him with all the tools he had ever needed to carry out his own decades long campaign of obfuscation and lies, ever concealing that important fact from him.

              Would he have done as Gin thought and harmed him for the simple fact that he had such a reason for keeping his silence -- or gone after that woman with such golden hair? Perhaps he would have done so and played out his role to all of those expectations that the younger man likely had harboured for years about him; that was a bitter pill itself to swallow. And then again, perhaps not. Aizen did not like to do things out of impulse if he could help it; his had always been the mind to think a thousand steps ahead, ten thousand, to examine the possible ways that his own actions could have ripples of consequence. It was like dropping a pebble into a still pond and watching the rings spread outwards to the banks whereupon they would begin to echo backwards and then dropping a second pebble so the new rings of motion would intersect with the first ones; there were always logical branches to follow at such times. If he had known about it before, what purpose would it have served? Perhaps it had been the thought of his using Matsumoto as leverage or a source of control over those actions that had stayed Gin's hand -- nevermind the thought of what he could do if he wished to. How his arms gently tightened, how the tears continued to run down his face, as sobs tore through Gin's body.

              But his own anger --... to claim that Gin should have told him, to say and even demand that such a secret should have been shared with him when he knew that this young man had seen so much of what he had done in his time --... as much as he hated to say it, he knew that such fears were not unfounded. He would perhaps have indeed done what Gin feared - perhaps not. Even he could not say, not in the wake of those past two years in the darkness or in the fact that all of those secrets were being laid bare. 

              As much as Aizen despised admitting it, there had been a fair and cold logic in the way that Gin acted, in keeping this secret for as long as he had. It seemed that they three were more entangled than he had previously thought and he himself had borne little knowledge of it. His mind flipped over the thoughts of what he had equally ignored, the timing of one thing, the arrival of this viper in his life --... It had all been there and he'd been too self-absorbed, he might say, to notice it. But that didn't change the fact that the former captain had indeed trusted Gin with something that no one else had ever been given. He had given a boy that had flashed those blue eyes like sharp blades at him the one secret that had been the crux of his own soul. 

              Yet that had become far more than such a simple secret of how one could perceive the truth of his actions; what a poetic license there was in the fact that they were both capable of cutting into each other with their words, understanding one another on levels that would never be touched by another's hands. Gin had a part of Aizen that only he could reach; how much of that was true for Aizen himself? He had always found himself almost desperate to know the depths of things, for Gin had been very skilled at concealing things from him -- including the depths of whatever emotions he carried. It'd made the older man wild, at times, trying to find some way to push, to see the younger man give him some kind of acknowledgment He could live on scraps of it if he must, but he'd always wanted more. Not greedy, but despairing in his own need for acknowledgment. It was that understanding of the man he'd named his partner that gave him proof enough of the depth of the pain that throbbed like an ingot of agonized heat now between his hands. He understood the depths of it even if it shook him in equal measure. He knew, too, that very few would know them the way they two knew one another and it was that knowledge now which held Aizen tight. Oh, he knew well that he knew Gin more than almost anyone else - but how deep did it go?

              To the marrow, sickly bruised with an agonized scar a century and more in the making, bleeding thick clots of long-held pain and anger that dripped from the sharp ends of the break that had exposed it to Aizen's awareness. To the core of his being. 

              It was a canyon of remorse and bitterness, he was certain, a chasm vast beyond feasibility. But perhaps the tectonic upheaval of the confession would allow that to close, at least somewhat. It was in the same vein, almost, as resetting a bone that had aligned itself improperly. It would be painful - but in the end, it would also provide relief, once it was left healed. So he hoped that every confession that had come out this night would allow Gin the room to heal, to be able to excise this pain and leave himself able to grow straight, no longer left twisted around the secret he'd held for so long. And his pain, obvious as it was, pained Aizen in turn --- even all the more so, for knowing that he had been the cause of it. There was no satisfaction that came to him with the weeping and his apologies had been utterly sincere.

              He regretted what he had done, hurting him - hurting her. Years ago, he might never have thought to feel such a way, but two years within that darkness had changed him, worn him down and away, and left his own pride shattered into pieces that would never truly be whole again. A harsh, hard lesson of bitterness and with no one to blame but himself -- yet that acceptance of the events that had happened meant that he could apologize now when it was due. 

              So he enfolded the younger man to him as Gin's fingers clutched at the remainder of the shikakhusho draped over his shoulder, letting that face burrow  in against his throat, permitting him to hide his face away as sobs began to cascade from that mouth and he found himself shifting to pull the younger man into his lap, beginning to rock him as soft murmurs of soothing spilled from his mouth without thought to the murmuring of his voice in those ears. With a slow grace and care, the limbs wrapped about that sleek form and pressed close, cradling the weeping Shinigami to his own chest, his own form a frame of quiet strength and support as he kept the weeping man embraced. It was with that care that one might treat a newly hatched bird, the same softness and tenderness that he had shown on so many days and nights when their passion had been spent. Perhaps it was a proper response now, for the younger man was raw in a manner not dissimilar to when Aizen would strip his self-control away, edging him into a headspace that saw him flushed and obedient. So he soothed now as best he was able through his own tears, hands stroking over hair and that thin back, letting the younger man cling and hide his face away.

              How many times had he worked to bring Gin down from such states? This didn't feel dissimilar, leaving him to stroke a hand slowly across the nape of that neck, feeling the jolting of the younger man's body as every sob wracked him, the trembling of that breathing that spoke fully of the pain that had been hidden from him for all these years. His own tears were damp upon cheek and jaw, wetting down the strands of silver as he curled his body around the other man's as if he were trying to shield him from the world itself. He didn't try to speak more apologies now, didn't make an effort to speak beyond murmurings of his voice, trying far more to give Gin a chance to have something to focus on. But how broken the younger man sounded, each sob seeming to tear its way from his chest as if it would shake him apart into splinters of his own soul. Aizen wanted to press his hands together, try to keep him whole, hold him still. These tears were a result of what he had done, he knew -- at least partially but the source of them seemed to be far deeper than what Gin had confessed to him.

              He could only guess at it and to actually do so right now wouldn't help anything. But it wasn't until those sobs seemed to show no sign of abating that he finally began to take action. A slow gathering of his power took place first before he released it with a faint soft sigh of his own weariness, though he still made no move to wipe his face clean. It was Hakufuku that he unfolded, seeking to wrap it around Gin and press its weight onto him. He knew that the younger man might realize what he was doing and though it was a slowly released Kido, it was strong enough that the soporific effect would likely find no resistance with how worn out this man he still so adored was likely feeling. And as the darkness was left to overtake the younger man, Aizen's voice finally sounded in the firelight, soft and gentle and thick with tears of his own sorrow and grief.

              ❝ Sleep, my Gin. Sleep. ❞

              Only when he was sure that the younger man was indeed unconscious did he at last move to lay him across the futon, a weariness ripping through every fiber of his being, as if sinews were stretched too tight, skin drawn too thin, as if even his bones felt the weight of his exhaustion. Their emotions had been running high for some time now, and he gave only brief thoughts to the food that had been made, a vague notion of trying to eat more. But he didn't think he'd be capable of that either. All that he was capable of managing was moving just enough to strip off the bloody fabrics that wrapped his upper body, exposing skin to the air. His fingers twitched as they brushed near the Hogyoku, that urge to grip and --... no, that was too much energy to spare either and he was breathing out as he moved to add more firewood to the blaze in question, assuring that it wouldn't be out by the time either of them woke up. The fire-pit would continue to pool warmth into the air, promising to keep the chill of the night hours at bay.

              Would that it could alleviate the coldness that still clung to him with clammy chill, but he thought little of that right now. There had been too much in too short a time and for all of his unconsciousness induced by his Bankai, he still felt weak. The weakness was something strange, his energy tapering off swiftly for the moment. A problem, if they were to face down Yhwach any time soon. He looked down at his hands, flexing and curling long fingers before inhaling deeply and giving his head a shake, brown hair left to form shaggy loose curls once more now that the headband of his seal was gone. But more could come later, and he found his limbs nearly leaden with fatigue as he moved to pull out a fresh kosode and shitagi from the nearby shelves, glad of his own foresight. They were barely on when the exhaustion hit, making him sway where he stood and it was an effort not to collapse on the spot as the weakness made itself known once more. Yes, his mind and spirit were willing, but his energy was still slow to return.

              It was with great effort that he moved at last to the futon, grabbing a blanket and pulling at it as he laid down next to Gin, turning to cover their bodies both with the material as he tucked an arm under his own head for a pillow. Darkness was on him in but a few breaths, sleep claiming him for its own as that persistent sensation of bone-deep exhaustion overtook him. He had hardly had time enough to recuperate before the secrets had spilled out. He had pried, had seen that Gin had been withholding something from him, and perhaps he should have felt some kind of regret over not letting the matter lie and rest where it must. But he knew, too, in that way that he sometimes had, that it had been important for the younger man to finally get such things out of his system. For all of his arrogance and pride, he was equally aware and capable of seeing more than what he was supposed to, of knowing more than he ever should. It had not been the first time that he had known instinctively what it was that would serve them best and he had long ago learned to trust such instincts. But they slept now, as did he, and his arms found their way about Gin once more.

              The warmth of unconsciousness held him close, cradled the traitor as he allowed his body to dictate the fact that he needed rest and obeyed it, and it wasn't until movement at his side began that Aizen started to stir once more himself, though he was not swift to pursue wakefulness. No, he would rather stay beneath the blankets with the other man, warm and comfortable and for a few short moments feeling as if they were once more in the bed shared in his quarters, the soft cracks and pops of embers that smoldered nearby hard to miss as was the smell of wood smoke in the air. His face nuzzled into silver and tucked all the tighter, drowsily content -- until something suddenly rippled over that passive net of awareness that he maintained at all times and the man suddenly was sitting upright, eyes unfocused as he felt the hint of power that rolled in the air.

              What the fuck had that been?

A THOUGHT KEPT REPEATING, PAINFULLY, that he’d done everything for nothing – that it’d been pointless, those youthful years wasted washing out bloodstains —- sleepless nights, nights spent watching those twisted howling creatures erupt from husks of lesser Shinigami or Rukongai souls, innocents, all to stay by Aizen’s side. All justified, always done as a necessity that ultimately didn’t matter. All of it, all of it in Aizen’s best interests. And for what, for what end? This? Holed up in an abandoned cabin on the outskirts, arguing over something that happened almost two centuries ago. Something that could still, to this day, never be fixed.

The despair in that helpless reminder alone was enough to bring Gin to an aching migraine, his temples throbbed, his throat felt hoarse, he was tensed to the brim, jaw tight, shoulders bristled. Gin felt a shudder of rejection rushing through him from spine to the nape of his neck so dizzying he thought briefly that he was going to vomit. Racing thoughts were relentless, merciless, they did not slow even as a breaking point had been reached by the raw words spewed in the confines of their ‘safehouse’ – truthfully, nothing felt safe. Everything was wrong. Everything was pointless, all those years an astronomical waste he couldn’t even put into words. Aizen couldn’t possibly be made to fathom the utter helplessness he felt now.

With anger exhausted, with despair tiredly stretching along, Gin felt emptied. He felt emptied and sick, thoughts echoing from a racing mind that couldn’t keep up and yet simultaneously it was too hollow that every minuscule despairing thought continued pounding like a war drum. Pointless, pointless, pointless, pointless –

Why did it even fucking matter what any of this was trying to clarify? Even now, even as the vestiges of anger reared up a few final times in favor of a simmering and wallowing lament, Gin wanted to slap Aizen for even trying to start challenging whether or not what was said, what was hurled at the Muken prisoner, those accusations and assumptions and deductions made via the decades of time spent seeking to understand Aizen Sousuke’s brilliant mind – … oh, as soon as the man tried to turn the tide, as soon as those ’I trusted you’ claims came forth… – as though absolving himself of all possible manipulative motives in teaching Gin the secret of Kyoka Suigetsu, that was what made Gin snap.

A sharp yet strained, breaking, harsh “Shut up!” in Aizen’s direction. But even then he was becoming too worn down, too upset to maintain the snarled anger he showcased prior. Too trapped in the whirlwind of old wounds bleeding, bleeding, bleeding – his head was swimming, pounding, he had to grip at his hair and resist the urge to dig in, to pull, to do anything to distract himself from the onslaught of self-deprecation that threatened to increase tenfold with Aizen’s well-aimed you could have told me comment made moments ago. He had to suck in air, a choked sound escaping his tight-set mouth, and it hardly registered that he was coiling so firmly inwards on himself all to avoid the possibility of crying. Wailing thoughts spilled forth, a ragged and murky mutter that barely made it past his mouth before his cries won.

❝ —- w-what’ve I done – ❞ In the midst of it all, the downward spiral of despairing thoughts pointed inward – he couldn’t cast all blame to Aizen now that his anger was exhausted, now that he had nothing to do other than to face the very real consequence of baring his wounds so roughly. So violently. He hadn’t ever been one for natural gentleness, no? He could’ve been gentle. He might’ve been a gentler person had he not… – gods, what happened to him? Nauseating, the subsequent trembling sorrow that surged up his throat, made him gasp out a wet breath, a shuddering inhale, a failing fight against the tears brimming.

Something that Gin wasn’t accustomed to fending off, to say the least. The jagged breaths that brought spikes of pain in his lungs as he heaved in, throat thick, temples aching, his eyes were stinging and he squeezed them shut as a remedy. Aizen’s approach was therefore not anticipated, not cared for – Gin couldn’t allocate the energy to resist the gentle tug at his wrist, the enveloping arm at his back, though he did turn his head aside as though suddenly keenly aware of the tear tracks that stained his cheeks, that made his eyes sting more and more as he blinked and tried to clear them away.

Apologies. Apologies swelled forth and made him merely choke on his own strained breaths all the more. Part of Gin almost thought he had somehow laughed at the sound of Aizen’s genuine string of apologies as they spilled forth. But no, it hadn’t been a laugh. A sob, more accurately, and others followed until he was shaking with the festering tremors of each convulsing cry, a blind desperate clutch at fabric near Aizen’s unbloodied shoulder, a flimsy attempt to anchor himself as the waves of… everything began crashing solidly over him.

He sobbed. He wept so heavily he felt it was closer to hyperventilation rather than a thorough crying. Deep plunging breaths did nothing to still the dissolving of all inklings of composure from his midst, a slow and painful unbecoming that stripped away the last breaths of Gin possibly being able to reel himself back in, to slap across his face the wretched grin he devised long ago.

He remembered, as a boy, being told he had an offputting smile by a merchant whilst Gin attempted to trade a stolen pocket watch for a week’s worth of food. He remembered the sneer at him when he’d simply wanted to express gratitude, a scowl replacing what had for one moment been a genuine smile. Soured, and how he had run with that knowledge. How he had smiled at Aizen under the moon with the warm splatter of the slain Third Seat’s blood on his cheek, thinking to himself 'I am othered, like you, do you see?’ How the idea of isolation was well-known to them both, and he knew that with a single look at Aizen —- a single look, Aizen would also know within a mere glance, and how that mutual understanding could draw the older Shinigami in, charmed.

Was Aizen still charmed now, now that he knew the depths of Gin’s venom, knew the seething hate that had his tongue so sharpened for all those years?

Surely not, though it was beyond confusing to be held by the same man he had struck down twice – three times, technically. How strange to be held and to be reassured, to be told soft things in the wake of so much anger and hurt and violence. Unfathomable. And thus, Gin continued to cry, continued to feel the weight of the worthless life he led so far come crashing around him, a weight he feared for the loss of, and yet the weight that was crushing him now —- who was he to become if it lifted, what was he to do now? Churning worries sputtered their way into his staggered breaths as he wept, and wept, and wept.

[flowersforbucky]

moth to a flame

bucky barnes x reader / winter soldier x reader

"I know you. even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

word count: 4.9k

summary: bucky is triggered into the winter soldier during a mission and then goes MIA, until he seeks you out in the middle of the night.

warnings/tags: SMUT, canon divergence (bucky hasn't been successfully deprogrammed in this), kind of dub-con, language, some violence, reader is afab, no use of y/n, friends with benefits situation, angst with a happy ending, 18+ only

“You've reached Bucky. I can't answer the phone right now but leave me a mess–”

You hang up before the voicemail recording finishes. You already knew he wasn't going to answer, just as he hasn't answered any of the other thirty-something times you've dialed his number over the course of the last few days. Or read any of the two dozen text messages.

The messages had stopped delivering and the calls had started going straight to voicemail almost two days ago at this point. And yet you still got your hopes up every time you checked your phone, only to be met with gut-wrenching, nauseating disappointment.

It had now been three days of this - not to mention picking your cuticles until they bleed, flipping back and forth between every news station on your TV in hopes (and fear) of seeing his name, a few collective hours of sleep each night, and too much Red Bull.

Just when you were thinking about trying to kick your caffeine addiction, too.

Three days of feeling completely and utterly helpless.

You place the phone back down on your coffee table, staring down at the thick, white cast encasing your left leg from your foot to just under your knee.

Useless.

You knew you were doing what you physically could - the spread of laptops and tablets on the table in front of you continuously supplying data from facial recognition programs across the United States.

Realistically, you knew he could be on the other side of the world by now, but that didn't stop you from checking. It was the only thing that you felt you had any control over right now.

But it wasn't enough. Not when Steve, Sam, Natasha, Sharon, and every other currently able-bodied team member are out scouring every safehouse and known former HYDRA base in the tri-state area while you're holed up in your apartment with a fractured fibula and a brain that won't let you stop reliving the moments before he went missing.

“This is as straightforward as it gets,” Steve re-assures you both for what felt like the dozenth time that day. “You'll be in and out in no time.”

“So straight-forward that you're going to hang back here while we do all the dirty work?” You joke as you make the final adjustments to your parachute.

“We've been monitoring this base for months,” he reminds you. “This place is as abandoned as they come. Get in, get the intel from the database, and get back to the jet.”

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Bucky adds with a devious grin.

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Steve agrees.

If only things had been as simple as he had expected.

You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach from the moment that you and Bucky landed on the ground outside of the HYDRA base. You told yourself that you were being irrational - but you couldn't shake the looming feeling that something was going to go wrong.

“See?” Bucky says after removing the USB drive from the computer. He sticks the device in the breast pocket of his tactical vest before edging you towards the desk. “Easy-peasy. You've been worried for nothing.”

“I have not been worried,” you deny, leaning against the edge of the desk. “This place is just old, and smelly, and creepy.”

Bucky takes a step closer to you so that there's no space left between you. He places his hands on the desk on either side of you, enclosing you.

“You think that I can't tell when you're nervous?” He says quietly, studying your face. You can smell a lingering hint of cool mint from his mouthwash. “That I haven't spent enough time learning your body to read you like an open book?”

Your thighs clench together and your nipples pebble at his words. You're almost embarrassed at how easily his voice, his scent, his closeness elicits a physical response from your body. Almost.

“What I think,” you murmur against his mouth. His hands come to grip your hips as he nudges your thighs open, standing between your legs. “Is you're crazy if you're thinking about trying to fuck me in an abandoned HYDRA warehouse.”

He exhales a dramatic sigh. “You can't blame me for trying.”

“I am relieved to know that you'd even want to do that here,” you say, hopping down from where you're perched on the desk. “I really think that shows you've processed your trauma–”

You're cut off by the room going completely dark. Every light, every computer, turns to black.

Bucky's flesh hand instinctively reaches to grab your wrist in the dark, tugging you to him.

“What the fuck,” he groans under his breath.

“We need to get out of–” you start to state the obvious but close your mouth when the computer that you and Bucky had retrieved the data from turns back on.

And then a computer to the right - and then across the room - and another to the right - and one to left - until every computer is on and showing the exact same screen. Bucky's hand grips yours so tightly that it borders on being painful.

Displayed on dozens of screens throughout the room is the face of a man. A man who you've never met, but recognize immediately.

“Zola,” Bucky whispers almost inaudibly.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Zola addresses him with a perverted smile. “Welcome home,” his voice pours from every computer speaker throughout the room and echoes off the walls.

“Steve?” You whisper urgently, clicking on the communication device hidden in your ear. “Steve, we've got a prob–”

“There's no use in that,” Zola interrupts you. “It's too late. They're almost here.”

The following sixty seconds were a jumbled blur that you were still trying to piece together in your mind.

You remember hearing the stream of words spoken in Russian.

Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.

You remember Bucky screaming at you to run, the sound of Steve's voice in your ear telling you that back-up was on the way and asking a dozen questions that you were too overwhelmed to respond to.

Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.

You remember begging Steve to hurry. You remember pleading with Bucky to come with you to try to get away; pleading with him to just look at you, just stay with you, help is coming -

Benign. Homecoming. One.

You remember the moment that Bucky went completely still as the room was infiltrated by HYDRA agents.

Freight car.

You knew that Bucky wasn't there anymore. You could sense it in his stance, in the way he wouldn't meet your eyes, in his silence.

Before you could say anything else to him, close to a dozen HYDRA agents came barreling towards you both. He charged through them, taking down one after the next with ease, until there were just a few left standing.

It was a side of Bucky you'd never seen. You thought that you had witnessed his strength, his agility, his determination, his ruthlessness working beside him in this field - but you then saw just how much he had been holding back.

He fled past the remaining few, out the door and down the hallway of the warehouse. The agents turned to follow him, forgetting about you - until you threw a knife directly into one's neck from behind.

Another agent shot at you, the blow hitting your bulletproof vest and sending you flying backwards onto hard cement.

Before you could catch your breath, there was a sharp cracking noise and a blinding pain radiating from your lower leg - but it was short lived.

The last thing you recall is the man's boot swinging towards your face.

You woke up some number of hours later, in a hospital bed with your temple throbbing and leg elevated in a cast.

“Hey,” a soft voice calls from your right. Natasha stands up from the singular chair in the room, both concern and relief evident across her features. “You're okay,” she begins to assure you. “You have a concussion and a fractured–”

“Where's Bucky?” You interrupt her, your voice scratchy. You clear your throat. “Is he okay? Did Steve find him? Did HYDRA get–”

“HYDRA didn't get him. Steve took care of the last of the agents after him,” she stops you from rambling. There's an immediate sense of relief wash over you.

“But we haven't found him yet,” she adds carefully. “Everyone is out searching for him now. You know we won't stop until–”

A gentle knock on your apartment door snaps you back to reality.

You freeze, your heart jumping to your throat. You stand as quickly as you can manage, grabbing your crutches propped up next to you on the couch.

“It's just me,” a feminine voice calls from the other side of the door. Your heart goes from your throat to your stomach. Not him.

“I'm sorry, I should have text you first,” Natasha continues. “But I brought you food. Street tacos from–”

You turn the deadbolt and unhook the chain lock before swinging the door open.

“You look–”

“Like hammered shit?” You finish for her, nodding your head towards the inside of the apartment as indication for her to come in.

“I was going to say exhausted,” she says, walking past you with a large paper sack of take-out food. Your stomach growls at the aroma - when was the last time you ate something more than a bowl of cereal or granola bar?

“Your favorite,” she tells you, placing the bag on the kitchen counter. “Extra salsa verde and lime wedges. Have you gotten any sleep recently?” Her eyes skim across the empty energy drink cans littered around the kitchen.

You maneuver yourself onto one of the barstools at the kitchen's small island, leaning your crutches on the edge of the counter.

“Yes,” you mumble. “For forty-five minutes from 2:30 to 3:15 today.”

She lets out a long groan, rolling her eyes at you.

“You're supposed to be healing from a concussion,” she reminds you, taking a seat for herself. “Which generally doesn't include sleep deprivation and excessive use of computer screens.” She stares in the direction of the array of laptops that overcrowd the limited space of your coffee table.

“Did you find anything in Connecticut? What about Sam, is he back from New Jersey?” You ask, ignoring her concerns as you unbox your food.

“Connecticut was a dead-end,” she sighs. “We're still waiting to hear back from Sam. There's a safehouse up in Vermont that Steve wants to head to tomorrow–”

“You don't think there's a chance of him letting me tag along for that, do you?” You tap the edge of your cast against the base of the island with your foot.

Her eyes soften as she looks at you. You already knew the answer.

“I know this is really hard for you,” she says delicately. “I may not know exactly what has been going on between you and Barnes these last few months, but it's obvious you care a lot for him. We all do. We are going to find him and bring him home,” she assures you.

You nod at her in agreement, not quite trusting your voice enough to speak.

Your eyes sting as you attempt to blink away the tears that threaten to spill over. You had yet to allow yourself to spend any time crying these last few days and you didn't wish to start now.

Her words remind you that no one knows exactly why you are taking Bucky's disappearance so harshly. You assume that your friends have their suspicions about your and Bucky's arrangement but the two of you had agreed to keep it between yourselves.

They didn't know it had started off being a weekly occurrence - late Sunday evenings, your apartment. Or how it had quickly escalated from once a week to twice, and then from two times a week to three - and instead of just your apartment, it would happen anywhere the two of you had a private (and sometimes public) moment - up against the wall of the communal showers at the compound's gym, in the back of the Quinjet after missions while everyone else would be sleeping on the flight back home, even during team meetings with his hand creeping between your thighs while you try to stay quiet enough to not draw any attention to yourselves.

They didn't know you were supposed to be friends with benefits but that at some point during the days and nights spent underneath one another, the line between friends and something more became blurry for you.

You had just been too chickenshit to tell him.

Natasha sits across from you as you inhale the Mexican food that she brought you. She doesn't say anything else, just keeps you company in a comfortable silence as you eat your first legitimate meal in days.

“Thank you,” you tell her as you're finishing your food. “I appreciate you. I've been going a little crazy here by myself,” you add meekly.

“Of course.” She stands back up. “I would stay longer, but I've got to prepare for Vermont. We're leaving early in the morning.”

“Be safe. All of you,” you remind her. “Let me know if you guys find anything. Just tell me if there's anything at all I can do. And please let me know when you hear from Sam–”

“You'll be the first to know when there's anything to know,” she assures you gently.

“Thanks, Nat.”

“You just try to get some rest, okay?” She requests as she walks toward the door. “Maybe drink some water, possibly consider taking a nice, long shower…”

“Goodbye, Natasha.”

She's chuckling as she closes the door behind her.

You lower your nose to your armpit as soon as the door clicks shut, inhaling.

Maybe she makes a valid point about showering.

Half an hour later, there's a heavy rain beating against the windows of your apartment when you finish bathing. You secure a towel around your chest before yanking off the garbage bag that you had wrapped around your cast well enough for you to rinse off.

Belly full and body clean, you felt somewhat better; at least physically.

You listen to the rain pound down as you sit on the edge of the bathtub, massaging lotion into your skin, and wonder where Bucky is right now - if he's safe, if it's raining wherever he's at, if he's somewhere dry -

You come to a sudden halt in the middle of brushing your teeth. It's hard to tell over the deafening roar of the rain and your bathroom fan, but you could have sworn you heard the creaking of a door or window from your living room.

I double checked the door locks after Nat left, you rationalize to yourself. This apartment is on the fourth floor, no one is going to climb the fire escapes to–

There's an unmistakable shadow visible through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. It's gone as quickly as it appears.

Shit. You start to panic as you realize you left your cell phone in the kitchen. As quietly as you can, you look around the small room for something to defend yourself with. A hair dryer, dental floss, a few week’s worth of dirty laundry..

You hear the creaking of floorboards as footsteps seem to creep closer and closer to the bathroom door.

Crutches. You have two crutches. You can clobber them with your crutches.

“I can hear you,” you call to whoever is just beyond the door. “I know you’re out there.”

Silence. No hint of any further movement.

You place one crutch under your left armpit for support, keeping the other one ready to wield as a weapon. “You have ten seconds to get out of my apartment,” you say a bit louder, willing your voice not to waver. “I have a weapon.”

Yeah, a weapon. If you can call it that.

Ten seconds come and go, followed by another ten seconds.

You weren’t going to let someone play this game with you in your own home.

Taking one last deep breath and tightening your grip on the defense crutch, you sling the bathroom door open quickly.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, immediately relaxing your weight against the crutches, releasing the death grip that you had on your uninjured side.

It’s dark in your bedroom save for a few pale orange string lights hung around your bed frame and the light that spills in from the bathroom, but you would recognize his broad frame anywhere.

“Thank fuck you’re okay,” you exhale, swinging yourself over to where he stands at the foot of your bed. When you’re a little over a foot away from him, you realize he’s sopping wet - his hair dripping water droplets and his skin dewy. His clothing, the same clothing that you last saw him in three days ago, clings to his body like a second skin.

He remains still as a statue, and as silent as one.

“Are you okay?” You ask him apprehensively. You give him a once over, from head to toe. You don't see any noticeable injuries, but he is trembling.

“Bucky?” You ask in a small voice.

His lips are set in a hard line. He doesn't answer, just stares at you. Stares at you like he’s trying to figure out why he’s here.

Stares at you like he’s trying to decide if he knows you or not.

The immense relief that you had felt at knowing he's alive is washed away by a sinking feeling.

His eyes trail from your face and slowly down your towel-clad body. He pauses when he gets to your foot, glancing back and forth from your cast to the crutches on either side. His brows furrow together - almost like he's in pain.

“I'm okay,” you assure him in a shaky voice. “It's just a fracture,” you explain. “I'll be healed in no time.”

You notice that his features relax a bit at your words - just enough to give you hope that Bucky, your Bucky, is in there and he's listening to you.

Do whatever you have to do to keep him here. Don't let him out of your sight. Help him remember who he is, your inner monologue screams at you. Just don't let him run away again.

“Are you cold?” You ask him. You're not necessarily expecting him to answer, you're just trying to put him at ease. “How about we get you some dry clothes?” You add, nodding towards his drenched henley.

You retreat into the bathroom, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he'd left over the last time he had stayed the night - the night before he went missing. They were at the top of the laundry basket - maybe not the cleanest, but better that the wet, dirty clothing he's in currently.

You limp your way back over to where he stands at your bed, leaning against the mattress for support. You set your crutches down and hand him the shirt and pants, which he hesitantly accepts. He makes no move to remove the wet clothes from his body, instead gently places the dry clothes onto the mattress beside him.

“Would you like some help?” you offer cautiously, terrified of doing anything that could cause him to run. You slowly reach towards the clothing that he had just placed on the bed, but he stops you before you can pick the t-shirt back up - grasping your wrist in his vibranium hand.

You can’t stop the small gasp that escapes past your lips. His hold on you is firm, but not painful. You could rip your hand from him if you wanted to - but you don’t.

Instead, you let him hold your hand as he begins to rub his metal thumb in a circular motion next to yours. You’re frozen; watching him carefully as he examines the movements his metal digit makes on your skin.

The goosebumps that appear in the wake of his touch don’t go unnoticed by him. His eyes trail from where his hand holds yours and up the expanse of your arm, until they land on your exposed neck. The towel covering your midsection has started to come loose, hanging low enough to reveal the top of your breasts.

He drops your hand, taking a step closer to you. You have to remind yourself to breathe - your Bucky is in there. Your Bucky, who is gentle, and soft, and would never do anything to cause you harm.

You have to trust that.

He brings his vibranium fingers up to the edge of the towel, trailing them across the mounds of your breasts. Your nipples harden right away, visible through the thin material of the towel.

You would let this play out however he wants it to. However he needs it to.

When his index finger stops where the towel is tucked into itself at your side, you forget how to breathe. He pauses for a split-second before unhooking the cloth and letting it fall to your feet.

He drinks in the sight of you bare before him, his jaw clenched and pupils dilated.

Dozens of times he has seen you like this, and never have you felt so completely vulnerable under his gaze.

And still there's a slickness gathering at the apex of your thighs.

He brings his flesh hand to your waist, putting the faintest bit of pressure against your skin. You close your eyes at the sensation - he's barely fucking touching you and you could melt into him.

Your name falls off of his lips - it's barely even a whisper, nearly inaudible but unmistakable. Your name. He remembers your name.

“Bucky,” your voice cracks when you whisper his own name back to him. His eyes snap up to yours, a mix of realization and hesitation brewing in them.

You bring both of your hands to the tail of his wet shirt, giving him time to pull away before you start to tug the shirt upwards. He doesn't stop you - in fact, he raises his own arms to help you tug the soaked fabric off of him. You toss the shirt in the general direction of your bathroom.

You didn't think there would ever come a time that the sight of him getting naked for you wouldn't make you want to drool.

You unsnap the button of his tactical pants, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time, hyper-analyzing his expression for any sign of reluctance.

You dip your fingers past the waistband of his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed as your hand travels lower.

He's already fully hard as you hold him, stroking him as best you can from inside the confines of his underwear and pants. You pump him in your hand and his head rolls back so that he's looking up at your ceiling.

Fuck, it takes all the restraint you possess to resist leaning forward and sucking on his neck.

Another time, you tell yourself, anxious about overwhelming him.

He curses under his breath - something in Russian that you don't recognize but the expression on his face indicates it to be a praise. There's a shift in his initially reserved, unsure demeanor when you begin to pump him faster.

His head snaps back down, his eyes raking up and down your body once more before he brings his hands to your lower back, maneuvering you against the bed.

You scoot until your back comes in contact with the cool satin of your pillows, relaxing into the bedding. At last Bucky begins to shed the layers of wet clothing covering his lower half, not taking his eyes off of your body as he removes his boots, followed by his pants and boxers.

He kneels on the mattress, crawling above where you lay. You want nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders and pull his mouth to yours, but you are going to let him call the shots.

He nudges your thighs apart with his knee, nestling himself between your legs. He grasps your breast in his vibranium hand, giving it a firm squeeze before rolling your nipple between his icy fingers.

He lowers himself so that he's belly down on your mattress, his face inches away from your pussy. He removes his hand from your breast and you let out a small whimper of disappointment at the abrupt lack of sensation. He uses that same hand to hike your uninjured leg over his shoulder, securing his head between the soft interior of your thighs.

He kisses you, starting at your belly button and working his way to your center. His lips feel like fire against your skin. You keep your hips planted firmly on the bed, fighting the urge to thrust your pussy up to his face.

“Please,” you whine. “Bucky, please.” You swear you can see the faintest trace of a smirk that looks so undeniably Bucky.

You clench your thighs around his face and he lets out a low, guttural groan as his mouth makes contact with you.

Normally, Bucky closes his eyes while he's going down on you - gets completely lost in it. Right now, his eyes are wide open - making sure he doesn't miss the way your mouth gapes when he rolls his tongue around your clit and the way your chest heaves when he nudges his tongue inside you.

You don't know which you find hotter.

You can already feel the tightening of a coil in your lower belly, making it impossible to resist rolling your hips to meet the torturous pace he's set with his tongue. You grind against his face, the thin layer of stubble that's grown across his jaw since you last saw him scratching against the sensitive flesh around your cunt.

You're approaching your climax when he pulls away, making you mewl at the loss of contact. His face glistens with your slick.

He flips you onto your side, placing you on your left side so that your injured leg rests against the mattress. You prop your head up with your hand as he slides in behind you.

His chest presses against your back, the heat of his body warming you all over. His flesh hand juts between your thighs, raising your right leg high enough for him to slap his cock against your pussy.

He strokes himself in his hand while he teases your folds - lubricating himself with your juices.

You turn your head to look at him right as he sheaths himself inside you, filling you entirely in one swift motion.

Fuck, you have to taste yourself on him. You can't handle not having his mouth on yours for another second.

You tilt your head back enough to connect your mouth to his - every worry you once had about coming on too strong and overwhelming him melts away as he opens his mouth for you, moving his lips against yours in an effortless rhythm.

He starts slow, quickly working up to a rapid pace as he repeatedly slams into your cervix from the sweetest angle. The sounds that you're making for him are pornographic - moaning into his mouth as his flesh hand comes around your front, landing on your engorged clitoris. He rubs languid circles while he continues to pound into you from behind.

You pull your lips away from his when you feel your orgasm building. “You always make me feel so good, you know that?” You ask him breathily, your mouth now right next to his ear.

“Every time you fuck me, I'm more sure that no one could ever compare to you. You've ruined me for everyone else. There’s only you for me.”

“Fuck,” he curses and groans your name again - it's the closest he's sounded to his normal self, which only spurs you on.

“I’ve become so fucking addicted to you in such a short amount of time,” you say in between moans as the head of his cock hits your sweet spot just right. “Think about you anytime you're not near me, drives me fucking crazy.”

He flips you - doesn't pull out - so that you're now underneath him. He goes right back to the same brutal pace, bringing his flesh hand to cradle your face as he stares down at you.

Clarity - you recognize it plain as day on his features.

He gives you a few more fast, hard thrusts before you're milking his cock through your orgasm. You crash your lips to his and he's coming - filling you up with his warm seed as he kisses you senseless.

He gradually stills inside you, his body going limp on top of yours as he rests his face in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, peppering kisses across his scarred shoulder, where flesh meets metal.

“I'm so sorry if I scared you,” he murmurs against the sweat-slicked skin of your throat after a moment. “I wasn't myself. Not even entirely sure how I ended up here - it's like I was pulled in this direction - to you,” he sighs.

You're overcome with such an immense relief at hearing him speak that you could cry. You tighten your hold around him, rubbing your hands up and down his back.

“You could never scare me, Bucky,” you assure him. He pulls out of you, rolling off of you onto the bed beside you and tugging you to his chest. Your cheek rests just over his heart.

"I know you. Even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks for reading! as always comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated!

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - request: angst 1/3 - mama pov

"It's going to be fine."

Simon's forehead touches yours, and you take the opportunity to breathe him in, fingers knotted in his sweatshirt. "I know."

"I know you're nervous, but you don't have to be." You sway together in the silence, his lips moving your temple. "It won't be too long, and when I get back, we'll start packing to move."

"I can pack when you're not here." You mumble, still clinging onto him. You've grown too dependent, too reliant. You should have been livid about the house, about how he was arranging things in secret, behind your back, but you couldn't find it in yourself to hold a grudge. How could you? After everything he's been through, his life compared to yours, how could take a sense of safety, security away from him?

Love is sacrifice, you think. You're not sure, but you're still learning.

And in this moment, these last minutes before he leaves, love feels like a death march.

"I don't want you pushing yourself. You're balancing work and the baby now, don't stress about packing. We'll take care of it together, when I'm home." A tear slips over your cheek, and he swipes it away.

"Will you have your phone?" You ask, hopefully.

"I will. Probably won't be able to turn it on as much as I did last time, but I'll see what I can do, okay?" The house smells like lavender, chamomile, candles and tea an effort to soothe your nerves, help Orion sleep.

It worked for the baby, but not so much for you.

"Hey, look at me." He tips your chin, delivers a slow, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling away. "It will go by really quick." You gulp.

"O-okay." There's something sad in the way he looks at you, a regretful sliver of doubt, filling you with guilt until it runs over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm not good at this, I just can't stop thinking about all the bad things, all the things that could go wrong." The lump in the back of your throat gives way to a sob, its weight choking through your lips.

"Shhh." Simon cradles the back of your head tucks you into his chest, arms wrapped so tight across your shoulders he blocks out the light. "You don't have to be good at this, mama. I'd be a little concerned if you were. I don't want you to get yourself worked up and worry, I want you to focus on taking care of yourself and Orion, okay? I'll be home before you know it, I swear."

"Promise?" The plea is high pitched, weak. A trembling ray of hope against the anxiety and fear churning in your heart. He kisses your forehead.

"I promise."



Your phone rings for the first time three weeks later.

You roll off the bed in an attempt to reach it, still fumbling with the lockscreen when you land on your ass. "Hello?"

"Hey, mama."

"Simon oh my god." Tears spring freely at the sound of his voice. "I'm so happy you called."

"'m sorry, wish I could've called sooner, but-"

"No, no that's okay. I... I understand. Are you... okay?"

"I'm okay, we've been busy, but we're safe." He's nearly whispering, vow low but still soothing, and you close your eyes.

"We miss you."

"I miss you too. Both of you. Little man looks like he's grown two sizes since I left." He sounds sad, and your stomach pitches.

"I know, but you'll be home soon right? You won't be missing too much." There's a long, regretful sigh on the other end, and the two of you lapse into silence until he clears his throat.

"You doin' okay?"

"Yeah, we're okay. I'm okay. Cami has been over a few times, and we've been going to the park and stuff. Gettin' out of the flat."

"Good, that's good." He takes a deep breath. "Listen, sweetheart. We're goin' be a bit longer than expected."

"How long?"

"'m not sure." You try to breathe, sucking in a deep breath, but the air feels sparse now.

“Okay, well. Okay.”

“I’m sorry mama.” Your lower lip quivers.

“It’s okay. I uh… I understand.” You try to endorse your voice with confident, but it only wavers.

“Don’t cry.” He says softly. “Please don’t cry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine. It’s okay. Just… be safe okay? Come home in one piece.” He sighs.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[wolviensabes]

Wolverine and Sabretooth in rut. You are completely screwed (literally).

Primal mutants = rut cycle. Obviously. Written in a headcannon style. NOT poly, the title looks a little misleading lmao. Not edited so pls ignore mistakes.

Minors DNI. 18+

Logan aka Wolverine

Logan gets crazy when he's in rut. He tries his best to keep his distance at first because he knows if he gets near you and smells you, he will lose all of his composure and throw you onto the bed.

He growls and huffs a lot, he's vocal about his needs and he warns you many times before he gives in. "This isn't like before...if I fuck you, I'm fucking you hard. Once I start I won't be able to stop." Logan's voice wavers with desperation as he tries to keep himself controlled.

The thought of him losing all his composure and pinning you down, making you take it, turned you on more than you thought, and he could smell it.

Logan gets a little cocky when he smells your arousal, and he drags you into the bedroom for some much needed relief...for the both of you.

He tries to be as considerate as possible, but in rut he's much more driven by instinct and focused on himself. He can't stop himself from driving into you and reaching his climax as soon as possible.

Something about him using you to relieve his primal need turned you on so badly, you laid as he wanted you, rutting into you from behind as he let out loud, guttural groans and growls into the back of your neck. He stretched you so good, and his thrusts always hit the right spots.

The marks he leaves on you are insane. He leaves bruises where he holds you, how he tosses you around the bedroom, his teeth and mouth leave various bites and dark love-marks. He doesn't mean to hurt you when he throws you around, in the moment he's blinded by his desire and he can't stop himself.

In the brief moments where he calms enough to recover some sense, usually only after cumming many times inside you, he will look you over to make sure you're not hurt. He wouldn't want to hurt you, but his instincts make it hard for him to control his strength sometimes.

He doesn't like you anywhere besides his place, and honestly...wear loose fitted clothes. Or nothing you really like. Because it's going to be shredded off your body. One time you wore one of his shirts and he ripped it off you without a second thought.

Logan's rut can last anywhere from two weeks to a month. He only experiences one per year, either in the fall or the spring.

He tries to disappear for most of it, fearing he will literally fuck you until your body can't take it anymore. But with your insistence, he relents and gives in.

He's so appreciative of you, you learn to help him not just with sex, but by making things as comfortable as possible. Ruts hurt. He is almost in desperate need of relieving himself, and you do what you can, even though he understands he can't constantly fuck you. There's always other ways you can help him.

When his rut comes to an end, he's more affectionate rather than needing to fuck every day. He tries to do things he knows you like as a thank you without being too mushy about it. He lets his actions speak for themselves.

"You doin' alright, sweet thing...? Nngh m'almost done...just a little more." He will grunt to you, either getting ready to plow you again or during, he does his best to reassure you with words even when it's hard for him to communicate fully.

Even if it's hard at first, you get used to it and it's a good thing to experience with him. It brings you both closer, having been there for him during it.

Victor aka Sabretooth

Dudeee please. Victor is quite literally an animal when he's in rut, he becomes 90% non-verbal, and all he wants to do is fuck.

The second you come home he slams the door behind you and grabs you, smelling your neck with deep inhales. His chest vibrates deeply, guttural growls escaping with each breath he took. His hands are firm around you, one hand moves to grab your jaw and tilt your head back.

You try to speak to him, but the only responses you get are growls and low snarling. You finally turn to face him, with great difficulty since he nearly imbedded his claws into your flesh. He huffs deeply, looking more wild than usual. "Victor...what's gotten into you...?"

He'd watch you constantly, rubbing himself all over you. Cooking? He's behind you, chest to back, rubbing himself against your body. Sitting on the couch, he's almost on top of you. He constantly is brushing against you, or holding you close enough to be touching him.

He grooms you regardless if you want him to or not. He will tear your shirt off and lick your skin, most of the time he aims for your tender spots. He licks your neck and ears, over your chest, your face, everything. If you try to stop him he snaps and growls at you, so you just sit there and let him do his thing.

He also surprisingly likes when you reciprocate. You don't have to lick him back, but messing with his hair or showering together is a good compromise. If you can manage to get him in the shower...he likes his musk and likes having his musk all over you.

Victor quite literally stalks you. He stalks you around his cabin and watches you clean or do whatever else. When you least expect it, he pounces on you and drags you into the bedroom. "M'sorry sweets, but you're gonna be sore as hell when m'done."

Victor is a lot more rough and unrelenting than Logan. He claws you and bites, he does make an effort not to cause any severe harm, but there's a first aid kit by the bed for a reason. There is a weak urge to hold back, but honestly he can't help himself.

He fucks you from behind 90% of the time when he's rutting, he gets the best hold on you from behind and he can really push his cock far inside you, plus you feel much tighter that way.

From behind he can also bite down on the nape of your neck, and he holds on as he completely ruins you. His teeth sink into your flesh while his hips snap into your ass over and over until cum is overflowing out of you.

Victor's rut can last anywhere between two weeks and two months. He also goes into rut twice a year, once in the fall and once in the spring.

Unlike Logan, Victor doesn't bother hiding his rut from you. He tells you what it is before he enters it, and he does give you the chance to disappear for the time if you think you can't handle it.

If you decide to stay while he goes through it then...you'll definitely be feeling it for two months. Nearly feels like he fucks you open, and not only that, but he is almost always buried lapping you. He licks, sucks, and cleans your sex, loving all your sounds of desperation. It just urges him on even further.

When his rut is over, he is visibly much more protective over you. You endured his brutality and slight aggression, now he wants you to stay at his home so he can keep you somewhere he can control.

Victor isn't one for words, he prefers to show things rather than say them. But deep down he's glad that you help him, he adores your willingness and it makes him feel more possessive over you. Big cat man purrs as he licks you clean after~

Ty for reading 🧡

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

Cover image from Wolverine Vol 8: Sabretooth War Pt 1 (2020)

[holdmytesseract]

Loki: *paces slowly and intimidately up and down the room, almost like a predetor*

Loki: As a prince of Asgard and heir to the throne, I've been taught how to fight. I fought a lot of wars in the name of my home; saturated sacred grounds with my blood and that of my enemies. Nowadays, it's my duty and privilege as an Avenger to do the same for your home. For Midgard. Just like my brother, I swore to protect this realm - and I will.

Loki: *stops and turns, then crosses his hands behind his back and takes in an elegant, godlike posture*

Loki: I won't hesitate. I won't yield. I am a prince - a god. Nothing fears me. Nothing in this world will be able to bewitch me and cause the loss of focus and the needed coldheartedness. Nothing-

Little Ella, suddenly barging through the ajar door and interrupting her father: Daddy!

Loki: *starts to smile and completely loses his stoic, threatening and serious demeanor* Hi, baby girl!

Loki: *crouches down to catch her and pick her up* What do you got here, princess?

Ella: Daisy tain! *proudly holds up the daisy chain she made with you*

Loki, smiling even brighter: For me?

Ella, nodding: Uh.Huh.

Loki: *helps Ella's small hands to put it on his head*

Loki: Thank you, princess. *presses kisses against her chubby cheek*

Ella: *wiggles and giggles excitedly in Loki's arms*

Loki: *lets her down on the floor again* Go and make one for uncle Thor as well.

Ella: *nods eagerly and storms out of the room again*

Loki: *clears throat and turns back to the huge monitor inside the conference room; putting back on his stoic, threatening and serious demeanor* Apologies, gentlemen... Where was I?

Some of the most important politicians: *blinking and just staring at Loki*

a/n: This lil' blurb came kinda out of nowhere - and ahhh, I absolutely love it, hehe. 🤭🥰

•☆° Baby Fever Masterlist °☆•

Baby Fever Crew: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @brokenpoetliz @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @kimanne723 @smolvenger @lou12346789 @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake @anukulee @lady-rose-moon @ainsley30 @lovingchoices14 @lokischambermaid @irishhappiness @mandywholock1980 @loki-laufeyson223 @vbecker10 @lulubelle814 @foxherder

[izadi234]

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English.

Yan! Batfamily x gn! reader

Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 (You're here)

Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 2

The moment you retreated to your room Alfred's gaze hardened as he looked at the kitchen door through which you had left.

With a sigh he returned to making breakfast, however, something couldn't stop going around in his head.

Why?

Why do you have to leave?

Why do you have to leave ME?

He doesn't blame you. Your "family" has done nothing but ignore you and push you aside on more than one occasion since you arrived at Wayne Manor. And if it weren't for him, Bruce wouldn't have remembered to pay for your needs and education.

No. He could never blame you for your decision, but he can blame Bruce and your brothers. He had never felt such anger for them, not even when Martha and Thomas died at the hands of that cruel man. But that never had a solution, but this did. His family has a solution and he was going to fix it for you and for you. To always have his ray of sunshine at his side.

He wasn't going to lose you without having fought a war.

But for now, he had to stay calm. He sighed once more and finally relaxed as he served breakfast on the plates. He has to talk to Duje after you told him about your decision.

He had to think with a cool head. As he had told Bruce many years ago: "Fear doesn't make you think clearly" and not only was he scared of his little ones going out into the world alone, he also had anger built up. And he was going to use those two feelings to his advantage.

It was not for nothing that he was a very feared soldier during the war.

You were in your room as usual texting with a friend when Duke knocked on your bedroom door before coming in.

"Hey (name)!" said Duke happily who sat on your bed while you sat at your desk

"Oh hey Duke!" you greeted him with a smile anyway "How was school today?"

"A little boring, but at least it's Friday now" he chuckled

"And you? How was your day?"

It's now or never.

You sighed and got up from your spot to sit next to him on your bed.

"I have something to tell you Duke…" you put a hand on his shoulder

"And what is it?" He asked worriedly seeing your seriousness "Don't tell me it's something bad"

"No, it's nothing bad. At least I don't consider it bad" you started to say "But, Duke, I've decided to move out of the mansion"

"…What?…" he said in a quiet tone of voice surprised by your words

No, it can't be…

"I know it's sudden, but I can't stand this place" you sighed "I want- No, I need to start over without being in the shadow of others"

You turned to look at him and caressed his cheek.

"But this doesn't mean we won't see each other again. We'll be able to talk and keep in touch" you offered him a smile

Without saying anything, Duke hugged you and nestled his head in the crook of your neck. You put a hand on his neck and caressed him.

"Just… Don't forget about me…" he said after a few minutes of silence.

He pulled away from you and wiped away some tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.

"I could never do that, brother," you wiped one of his eyes with your thumb.

After that emotional conversation, you and Duke spent the afternoon in your room talking and watching movies on your laptop. However, Duke's mind was still on that conversation.

There was no chance that you would leave him. He had to find a way to prevent you from leaving his side.

The week you moved went by so fast that when you realized it, you were already taking the last box with your belongings out of the mansion.

You looked back at that mansion one last time and felt like that little kid again who arrived with fear and excitement to what he would call home for years. But soon your face darkened as you remembered the suffering you had experienced there. Without thinking twice, you turned around and got on your motorcycle, but not before securing your last box. You started the bike and left Wayne Manor.

You hadn't said goodbye to Alfred nor Duke but you left a letter on both of their beds wishing each of them the best, thanking them for everything and giving them the phone number of your second cell phone in case they needed something or just wanted to check on you. However, you didn't leave anything else, not even an address. You wanted to completely erase the Waynes from your life, you wanted to erase the fact that you were a Wayne too. You wanted to forget them so much that you turned off the cameras in the mansion for a period of time so you could take out your things in peace, so that no one would see the license plates of your motorcycle that you had been keeping at a friend's house and whose motorcycle was registered.

If nothing else, you had developed the same paranoia as Bruce and decided to take every measure to avoid being located. You even thought about going to live in Metropolis or Star City but the rent and sale of apartments there were much more expensive than in Gotham. Maybe when you earn more money once you finish college.

But for now focus on your present.

Before it is taken away from you.

When you got to your apartment you let out a sigh that you didn't know you were holding. You looked around, there were some pieces of furniture that came with the apartment like a leather armchair that was a little worn but looked pretty new, a wooden bookcase, several coffee tables, some pots and kitchen stuff. The only thing you had to buy was your bed but your best friend did you the favor of giving you a headboard for your bed as a gift of independence and you only bought a mattress. It wasn't as comfortable as the one you had in the mansion but at least you had things you could consider yours. NOT thanks to Wayne, but thanks to your efforts.

You put the box on the kitchen counter and before going to your room you saw several boxes.

Damn... You hadn't thought about how lazy you were going to be when you had to unpack.

That same day you left, Alfred had returned from going grocery shopping. At that time of the morning you and he used to spend the morning together, while you were in your online classes, he did the housework along with the food. Between the breaks you had between classes you used to go see what he was doing in the kitchen and you were his personal taster.

Now that you were on vacation, you spent more time with him because Bruce, Tim and sometimes Damian went to Wayne Enterprises, Dick and Jason weren't usually at the mansion and Duke, Cass and Stephanie were training in the Batcave or with their friends. For that same reason Alfred was alarmed when he called your name and you didn't answer.

He quickly went up to your room only to find it completely empty. His heart raced and he started to sweat lightly.

You couldn't have left so quickly, right?

He went down again and checked all the rooms in the big mansion and found nothing. Only his own room was missing. As he entered he could see an envelope of your favorite color on his pillow. He approached and read it.

In the letter you apologized for not saying goodbye to him in person but if you did you were more than sure that you wouldn't be able to leave. You also left him a private cell phone number where he could call you and you wished him all the best.

It had been a long time since Alfred felt the need to cry but without realizing it he had already shed a few tears. He couldn't believe that his little one was already gone.

After having shed a few tears, he quickly wiped his eyes and composed himself. No, he couldn't cry because you were going to return. He was sure of that.

However, he would let you enjoy your independence a little before implementing his plan for you to return home to your family. With him.

But first he'll have to talk with Duke.

Helloooo! I hope you liked the second chapter! If you did leave a heart and i'll see you in the next one. I kind of think this chapter is kind of bland but the story is just begining. This are the first impressions of you leaving the Manor but soon enough the rest of the family will appear.

Thanks you for reading!

-Izadi <3

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@eyeless-kun

[myeagleexpert]

The Perfect Boyfriend ( PT 2 )

𝕭𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖕𝖊𝖔𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋 𝖕𝖗𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖚𝖕 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝕴'𝖛𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖆𝖉 𝖒𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖘𝖞𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖞 '𝕮𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖘𝖆𝖜 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖊

Doppleganger/Skinwalker!Yandere x YN (AFAB)Summary: Despite living in a pink world, there's a little voice in the back of your head that tells you that there's something strange with your boyfriend. It can't be anything important, right? (You'll regret not listening to it)Warnings: (Toxic relationships, obsessed relationships, mental manipulation, the smell of rot, description of death, description of fear and panic, a little sentimental smut, The thing loves you - too much.) Uncertain motives. He tries to keep you trapped. Some character will threaten to die, gore,long fic ( 12 pages +-) The term 'YN' and 'you' is used several times in the fanfic for better grammatical use, my first time writing something like this, so please be gentle. <3

𝕭𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 < < 𝕾𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖘 > > 𝕹𝖊𝖝𝖙

YN wakes up screaming.

She sits up quickly in bed with a cold sweat running down her forehead, looking disoriented as she tries to identify the dark environment around her.

“Shhh honey, it was just a dream.” A male voice, from the other side of the bed, approaches her comfortingly.

“W…wait-“ the girl tries to push the man away, still confused and tired, but the hand she uses to push him away is soon enveloped by his warm comforting hand.

“I'm here, sweetheart, you're safe and sound here.” He pulls her into a hug and makes her lie back down on the bed, pulling fluffy and warm blankets up to her neck. “It was just a nightmare, huh?”

Kain continues to hug her, caressing YN affectionately, small circles on her back and a warm hand in her hair as he wraps her protectively.

“L-listen….-“ she tries to break free but he quickly stops her, pressing a kiss on her lips to shut her up.

“Shh my love, you can talk about your nightmare later, okay? If not, you'll keep remembering and you won't be able to sleep anymore.” He gives her a few more kisses on the cheek “Let's go to sleep, okay?”

“You're safe here, YN. It's okay. It was just a nightmare. I'm here.” He continues to whisper sweet nothings in her ear, and then he starts to softly sing a strange song.

“Nana baby…… Cuca's coming to get you…. Daddy went to the farm, mommy went to work……

“You're safe here, YN. It's okay. It was just a nightmare. I'm here” He repeats. And again. And again. Even after you reluctantly fall asleep.

“Nana baby…… Cuca's coming to get you…. Daddy went to the farm, mommy went to work……

YN dreams with quick flashes of a disgusting creature, a rotten smell, a metallic smell… and Kain's smile. The young woman wakes up calmly a few hours later with the sun rising and the smell of food coming from the door… is he preparing something?

Oh, he was already ready.

"Good morning, dear!" he says, entering the room with the bamboo breakfast tray.

Kain places the tray on the dresser next to the bed gracefully and walks to her side, giving a soft kiss on the top of her head and then gently putting her tangled hair in a bun so she can drink her coffee properly. "How did you sleep, love?"

YN looks at him confused, not really knowing what happened or not… but decides to keep quiet about it.

"I slept… well, I guess?" she laughs, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek "But I don't remember falling asleep. What happened?"

Kain holds back a smug smile, choosing to focus on the feeling of YN's lips on his skin.

"Oh, sweetheart. You fell asleep on the couch yesterday, we were watching the movie when you fell asleep. I brought you here so you could sleep better in the room.”

“And… I was already wearing pajamas? I don’t remember that.” The young woman looks at the cotton pajamas, a white American pajama set with little pink hearts. It was a couple’s promotion, so Kain was wearing pink pajamas with white hearts.

“No, my baby, you were wearing that polka dot dress but I changed into pajamas.”

After all, he always liked to play house.

“Ok, my love, thank you for taking care of me”

“Everything for you, sweetheart.” He hugs her and goes to her closet, choosing the clothes for today’s work day, a habit he did when YN was late or simply wanted to be one less thing to worry about.

As soon as he finishes choosing the clothes, Kain decides to iron them while YN gets out of bed and goes to take a shower, locking the door for safety. In a long bath, YN tries to remember what really happened the day before, noticing that she feels slightly sore and tired, with her head too heavy for her body. The holographic bubbles mixed with the memories that she tried to connect in an almost random and disorganized way…..

I took a bath…… and I was happy…. I got a promotion at work…

There was a pink cake…… and some music playing….

YN gets out of the bath and grabs the pastel pink towel to dry herself.

I watched a movie, but I don't know what it was about…. I was with Kain in the living room, cuddling….. And the boss… had she sent messages?

The young woman takes a brush to comb her hair, noticing that it is more tangled than usual……

Yeah. She had sent messages. I saw the messages when I got out of the bath…. but what was it about?

As she dries her hair, she smiles to herself. It must be the photos from yesterday's party! How silly of me, I didn't even like the photos and shared them! Let me see now~

Wait… photos?

With a breath of realization the girl remembers, a deja vu connecting the loose memories and she holds her breath: the messages from the boss- ex-boyfriend- three weeks- fear- the perfumed path- rose petals- pink cake- panic- film- cell phone- door- Kain- rotten smell. But what happened for her to forget everything? YN has a script of what happened yesterday, but for some reason she doesn't remember the main key: Why was she afraid?

She continues combing her hair and notices that the back of her head is strangely sore, and not the kind that comes from sleeping badly… but the kind that comes from a blow. She lets go of the comb and with her hand she feels her head looking for the source of the pain, and finds a lump forming. Silently moaning in pain, she wonders how this lump got there. Kain is so careful with her, how could this have happened? YN does a quick skincare routine and thinks that if something has happened, she can check it on her cell phone.

“Everything is ready, honey! Your clothes are on the bed!”

“Thank you, love!” she answers to Kain’s voice. Hearing her answers, he takes light steps to leave the room.

As she leaves the bathroom, she feels that there is something strange, like a hole under the carpet. But that's not important now, not when she sees the clothes he's put out: an office chic look, there's not a single wrinkle or crease in the whole outfit, a sign of Kain's care, and there's a sweet smell on the clothes that makes YN feel like she's on cloud nine again, she picks up the clothes and brings them to her nose to delight in the sweet scent of fabric softener. Who would pay attention to these details about her? He's so perfect <3

What more could she want?

"Oh, how I love my boyfriend-"

Boss: YN THIS IS NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND.

Like a painful deja vu, YN remembers exactly the messages from her boss as she struggles to know if it was all a dream or not.

Boss: KAIN DIED IN AN ACCIDENT THREE WEEKS AGO.

She can see the messages on the bright screen of her phone, it was before she went down for dinner. She remembers feeling her heart racing as she tried to contain her despair. She remembers a terrible image of Kain in a car accident.

Boss: RUN AWAY IMMEDIATELY!

“Oh… fuck.” She curses in a low tone as she frantically searches for her cell phone in the room, the bathroom, and the dressers next to the bed. There is only one way to confirm, and she needs to find her cell phone. She has two options now: If this is a big misunderstanding from yesterday's horror movies, she will give Kain a big kiss for even doubting him, but if what the boss says is true… then she has to get out of there as quickly as possible.

In a hurry, she changes into the clothes he chose and for the first time in two weeks she walk straight ahead without looking at the pink bag Kain gave her. It accompanied her every day, a beautiful pink quilted bag with gold and pearl details, but it is small. Despite being a work bag, YN hardly carries anything other than her lip gloss, her cell phone, and other things, but this time, she needs to go further and chooses the black bag she had bought for herself. The bag was black and also padded, bigger and more spacious, with silver details and chains.

Before you freak out, let's get the facts straight like a logical and respectable woman.

She says to herself as she chooses silver earrings to match the beautiful silver necklace she is wearing. YN knows very well that she can't just go to the police station and accuse the man of being… I don't know, what crime is he committing? Anyway, until she proves that the man she is with in the house is not her boyfriend and a potentially dangerous person, she needs to keep a cool head. The police might think that SHE is the crazy one and humiliate the poor girl at the police station, belittling all her fears and anxieties.

The boss is my witness. The evidence is on the cell phone. …..And where is the cell phone?

She leaves the room with her bag and quickly goes down the stairs, alert, trying not to breathe too much of the air fresheners while trying to behave normally. Unfortunately, she misses a step or two, causing her to trip… but before she hits the ground, strong arms protect her from the fall.

“I could ask if it hurt when you fell from the sky, but… the stairs are closer, aren't they, angel?” Her boyfriend's voice is playful, but his arms touch something that gives him goosebumps, and not in a good way. “Why… are you in such a hurry, my love? Be careful going down the stairs.” He tries to hide it as he helps her up.

“I'm looking for my cell phone, er… honey. Didn't you see it?”

Act normal, act normal, act normal….

“It's charging in the living room.” Kain simply points to the outlet next to the couch

YN hurriedly finds herself on the couch, grabbing her cell phone and feeling a momentary relief at the thought that she would finally find the answer she was looking for. Her heart beats rapidly as she searches through the conversations with her boss.

Please tell me what's going on!

Boss: YN, can you format the document you sent just now? On page 3 you need to add the details of the client's project.

YN: Sure, I'll send it to you in 5 minutes.

The messages have been deleted.

The most recent one is from three days ago.

Her heart stops. Her breath catches in her throat. Her blood pressure drops to her feet. YN can't believe what she was seeing. She searches through her gallery and checks to make sure the message wasn't on other apps.

She feels like she's right on top of the hole the rug is hiding, but she can't remove the rug yet or she'll fall in herself. Kain watches her analytically from the stairs, still trying to decipher her emotions, wanting to get inside her head to know what she's thinking, why did she change her purse today? Why the silver necklace? He bites the inside of his cheek and tries to sound as normal as possible.

"Did you find your cell phone, sweetheart?" His smile is charming and irresistible, but it doesn't reach his blue eyes.

He's the one who turned it off.

You take a deep breath and hold your wide eyes, slowly getting up and going to the door "Yes… it's charged to 100%. I'm going to work now, I'll be back at night, okay"

Kain's smile fades "At night? You know I can't stand being away from you for so long." He says sweetly, leaning against the wall "Couldn't you come back before sunset? We could do something together…”

“You know my boss is very strict, Kain. I can’t ask her for an afternoon off.” Yn gives a weak smile, she could ask her boss for an afternoon off but she didn’t want to spend the afternoon with this strange man, now that she knows that the man is not the real Kain she sees him in a different light.

“Oh yeah? Maybe she’ll be in a good mood today.” Kain kisses Yn’s hand quickly, but unlike usual, there’s a dark tone in his words

“Y-yeah, maybe she’ll be fine today. I have to go-“ even though YN opens the door and tries to get out of the corner, Kain’s hand still holds her tightly

“Aren’t you forgetting something, dear?” Kain looks at her with an intense and possessive look

YN is slightly terrified when she looks into his eyes, there’s a strange atmosphere in the place. “I… ar… I ……” she looks at him anxiously and the motorcycle outside waiting for her, and tries to pull her hand away once more, however, Kain continues to hold on tightly.

“I love you.” He chuckles, lightening the mood and pressing another kiss on the back of her hand, but still doesn’t let go, waiting for his beloved’s response.

“….. I… I love you too.” Even with hesitant words, YN manages to answer her boyfriend, sealing the promise and completing the daily ritual.

Feeling satisfied, Kain finally lets go of her hand and allows her to go to work, waiting for the motorcycle to completely disappear from sight before entering the house and preparing something special.

At work, YN feels a horrible sensation of being watched, but how can that be, the work environment is something safe, right? As soon as the break is allowed, she runs to the bathroom, locking herself in one of the last stalls and opening an anonymous tab…. as a precaution…. to try to understand what Kain is and how she can escape this situation.

“A skinwalker is a mythological creature that steals the skin of its victims and disguises itself as them…”

“…… an extremely malicious and sadistic creature with its victims…”

“DON’T BELIEVE ANYTHING THE CREATURE SAYS! The creature will say anything to get the victim.”

“The creature hardly gives up on its target. In two or three days it gets what it wants.”

“The creature leaves no witnesses, so if you are the target of a supposed skinwalker, flee the place immediately and surround yourself with people. It will not be able to attack you for fear of being seen.”

“If you cannot get away, use silver objects to protect yourself…”

“RUN AWAY IMMEDIATELY!”

Holy shit.

In life, there are times when you curse in anger or frustration for being in a complicated situation, but YN sighed in such a way that all her bones roared in unison “oh… fuck.” While she was still searching for more information so focused that she didn't realize that she was the only person in the bathroom and that the lights were starting to fade…

“YN~” a voice hummed as the echo of the bathroom did its job

YN remained silent, mentally thinking that the person would leave, however, elegant and slow footsteps in high heels echoed through the bathroom until they reached the last stall, the girl recognized her boss's black heels and smiled in relief.

“Oh Boss, it's you!” she sighed in relief and threw her cell phone into her black bag “I really needed to talk to you! About those messages you sent, you know?” she started talking nonstop trying to get the subject moving, relieved to finally have someone to talk to about this and a potential help.

As soon as YN opened the door she was faced with a strange sight, to say the least. She analyzed her boss from head to toe: Her black heels were tight, her clothes were so wrinkled that it looked like she had just rolled out of bed with them, her hair was in a messy hairstyle… and she found familiar blue eyes.

No..... no no no no no no......please no....

“Yes, dear? What did you want to talk to me about?” she smiles uncannily with her red lipstick smudged and poorly drawn, something that the perfectionist boss would never allow.

YN takes a step back, the boss takes a step forward.

“Boss…. are you okay?” there is a strange glow in her eyes, like a reflection that shouldn't be there.

I'm in a place with people…. he can't hurt me here.

“…. I'm fine, my dear." The boss says with a frozen smile and an impossibly straight and rigid posture, her voice is like a musician trying to play an instrument for the first time, testing out the tones and tones hesitantly, like a robot would slowly carry the answer “I really wanted to… talk to you.”

Yn walks past her anxiously towards the washroom, washing her hands and fixing her hair while looking in the mirror at the boss trying to get out of there as quickly as possible. “Yes, boss?”

The figure slowly turns to YN, the sound of high heels echoing with each step that approaches the young woman “You're making a mistake, YN.”

“….er, what am I doing wrong?” as she dries her hands YN turns to the other woman anxiously.

The boss continues with the same frozen smile.

“Your…silver necklace.” The figure points to the necklace around YN's neck “It's against company rules to wear that kind of accessory here.”

“That necklace? But I've already worn it be-“

“No.” The boss opens her hand and YN feels her body freeze with what she says next “I came to collect the necklace, you must comply with the company's rules.”

“I can keep it in my bag so… I don't want to bother you with such simple things.” The girl holds the necklace and slowly moves away from the boss.

“No.” The boss says in a more authoritative tone “I came to collect the necklace.” She approaches the girl with her hand still outstretched.

He can't take my necklace… but… what happens if the lady gets in touch with him? The website didn't say this part...

YN nods slowly and takes off the silver necklace, handing it to the boss who closes her hand immediately before the girl could change her mind in the last seconds.

“Good girl, darling.” The figure approaches until their chests almost touch, when she notices that YN was looking at the door and not at her, the woman gently grabs YN's chin, making her look into her...his blue eyes.

“You know, darling….. you work a lot, you know? I'm very proud of you, that's why I'm giving you the afternoon off so you can spend it with your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend….?”

“Of course, he's such a perfect man for you, isn't he? And he loves you so much, YN, he'd do anything for you.”

Come on, is he advertising himself well?

“…. yeah, he's…. like a dream to me.” The boss widens her eyes at YN's words.

“A perfect dream, isn't it? You don't want to wake up and live a nightmare, do you?”

Yn just nods and stays quiet, feeling the implicit threat in her boss's words on her skin. She grabs her black bag tightly and says goodbye to her boss, leaving the bathroom while the lights still flicker. Maybe if she had been brave enough to wait for her boss to leave, YN would have seen how much she was staggering in her daily high heels.

He's here! Why didn't the silver work? And I still had the big mouth to talk to the creature from the messages!

She sighs again and again, she quickly leaves the company. Who would she run to for help? She's new in town, few family members know, and involving anyone would be too dangerous… what do I do?

Where would I run to?

The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown, she remembers someone saying this and to add to it she completes: This kind of fear is like a snake that eats piece by piece of your body without a specific order, today it devours your toenail and tomorrow - if it feels like it- it can devour your stomach entirelyallowing the acids in her stomach, fueled by anxiety and tension, to season the meat so she can swallow it with more satisfaction.

Driving distractedly, YN's gaze remembers Mr. Thomas's flower shop… and for now, this will be her refuge until she thinks of a plan. The flower shop is quiet, only with old music in the background while Mr. Thomas, the good old man, is preparing a bouquet…

"Oh, Miss YN, are you back already?" He greets her from afar

The young girl feels so lost now, not knowing what to do, she wanted it all to be a big misunderstanding so she could go back to the floating pink world she was in, but the knowledge that something non-human would be ready to kill her when she returns makes her little feet stay firmly on the ground, makes her take slow and distracted steps that take her straight to the alstroemerias, the same ones from yesterday, and points to the flowers.

“…. I'll have a bouquet of those, Mr. Thomas.” In a monotonous and almost empty tone, she asks, making the florist stop what he was doing and asks her to repeat, fearing that his age is already getting the best of his attributes

“What did you say, YN? What flowers will you want?”

“The alstroemerias….. make a pretty bouquet, okay?” She takes robotic steps to the counter, waiting for the elderly man to make the bouquet. She trusts that it will be a beautiful bouquet of alstroemerias…. but for some reason she doesn't even know why she chose those flowers. The elderly man is experienced and knows that each flower has its meaning, but mainly the emotion of the person choosing the flower and the bouquet says more than they realize.

Mr. Thomas picks the best flowers from the astromelia and looks for some more to make a beautiful bouquet, at least to cheer up the poor girl. The old man takes the flowers to the counter to choose the wrapping and some messages and finds YN sitting, simply staring at the floor with her head down, distracted, with an anxious look on her face.

“YN, what paper do you want for the wrapping? The usual?”

Why hasn’t he killed me yet?

“YN? Are you listening to me, little one?”

Why didn’t he pretend to be my boyfriend… treat me so well? What are his intentions?

“YN!” in a louder but still soft tone the old man catches the girl’s attention

“O-oh, sorry Mr. Thomas… I’m just thinking about things. The wrapping paper will be…” she can’t think of anything, her mind wandering between unanswered questions and anxiety in her chest “Why don’t you choose? I know you’ll look for what best matches the flowers.” The girl smiles and pushes the decision to the florist who sighs worriedly

“Oh dear…. what's going on with you? Are you feeling okay?”

Please don't ask me that… not today…

“I'm fine but… I'm feeling… stressed. Work stuff, you know?” She pulls a hair behind her ear, as if she were tidying up whatever mental mess she was apparently having.

The florist narrows his wrinkled eyes at the girl, reading her like a book, then he does the most comforting thing YN has received all day. He approaches her, placing a hand over hers, with deep empathy and genuine concern that makes YN's heart melt, finding a true safe haven in the words of the old man, who looks at her as if she were his own granddaughter.

“It's him, isn't it? What did he do to make you like this?”

“Oh Mr. Thomas…” speechless, the girl lets her eyes water as she stubbornly looks up, preventing some tears from coming out

“What did he do to you, YN? You were so fine yesterday… and today you seem so anxious and sad.” He softly tells the story of the events, careful not to scare or scare the girl

Think of an excuse, YN, quickly…..

“....Remember what I said yesterday about how he was drunk and high?” the real Kain “Well…. yesterday he….. yesterday he came home under the influence, you know? Acting strange……”

“Did he hit you?”

“No… he hasn’t arrived yet.” The girl whispers almost inaudibly as she thinks about the possibilities

“… And, are you afraid of him?”

The girl, with no more strength to speak, closes her mouth and nods quickly as her heart races.

“I’m going to get something for you, keep an eye on the store, okay?” he whispers softly as he walks to get something from somewhere in the store.

Moments later a female voice is heard entering the flower shop.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Thomas!”

YN had never been a religious person, but she could thank God for sending Sister Martha at that moment. In a new city and trying to find independence away from her family, there were few people she knew and had made sincere friends with. Coincidentally, a childhood friend had recently become a nun and was being assigned to the church in the new city. The sister was wearing her church uniform, her curious eyes searching for the elderly figure to pick up some flower order for a temple decoration.

“Oh, YN! What a pleasant surprise!” the woman smiled immediately upon seeing YN at the counter, giving her friend a tight hug while bringing an air of purity and warmth with her “Long time no see, girl!”

“Yes, Martha… I missed you so much!” YN hugs back and lets her friend's genuine warmth invade her. After a few moments of hugging, her friend slowly pulls away and looks at YN with a worried look.

“What happened, YN? How are you?”

“Nothing, sis…”

“There's no point in hiding it from me, tell me what happened!”

If it were anyone else, Martha would have talked better in a friendly and non-invasive way, but being Yn, she doesn't mince her words.

“Last week I saw you and you looked like a model, why are you so… like that? Who's the funeral?”

My.... Martha, it's going to be my funeral.

“It was him, Martha…” she reluctantly confesses, avoiding her friend's gaze.

“Him? Who is he? Ooooh…. your boyfriend.” Sister Martha had never liked the real Kain and even after his return with YN was nothing but flowers and wonders, she was very suspicious. “Your demon boyfriend.”

An idea popped into YN's head, like hope being born again. As a teenager, before becoming a nun, Martha was a curious and mischievous teenager, who looked for everything, including mythologies, magic, witchcraft, and the dark world that happens under the bed when children go to sleep. Nowadays, she fights spiritual wars, dealing with evil and good in a very physical and literal way. Maybe, just maybe… she can speak in some code so that her sister can understand.

"I'll invite you to exorcise him at my house then.” She jokes but knows that Sister Marta is seeing through her and YN hopes she reads the subtext

“I'll need a whole team to remove the evil inside Kain's body… that boy of yours is a complicated man.” She jokes

"Complicated defines him well."

The two laugh a little, lightening the mood, but Martha asks again in a more serious tone this time, whispering to her friend like secrets in a confessional......

“You… are you serious. Do you really think he's possessed by a demon?”

“I think he's something… worse than a demon.” You sigh worriedly and anxiously “it seems like someone else… you know?”

“YN…” the young nun widens her eyes, she has a slight idea of ​​what her friend is talking about but knows that the whole team doesn't have the capacity to solve this, it's something extremely dangerous and if not done right it could have bloody consequences. This should be dealt with by sorcerers, but YN needs something quick to deal with it

"Oh...."

“Oh my friend, I will pray for you. I promisse.” In an apopogetic tone with her mouth half closed, the nun apologizes as she walks away from the store, breaking YN’s heart and all the hope that had sprouted when she also understands the subtext of the sentence:

You are on your own.

The girl remains paralyzed, sitting on the bench so as not to lose her balance. She cannot think about how helpless and vulnerable she feels, as if she is in a philosophical debate about whether she should just accept it.

5 seconds later the nun returns to the store, looking agitated and anxious as she looks for YN, the girl feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

“YN!” she looks at the door then turns quickly, holding a package of leaves in the girl’s hand

“Myrtle. Myrtle tea - it's good for…. the cardiovascular system, for the skin, it's also good for stomach aches - and…. headaches and……” she searches for more answers while looking anxiously between the door and Yn's shaken face “Take this. It'll be good for you.”

The sister hugs Yn tightly and whispers seriously in her ear“Run away. Take this and get out of here.”

The nun still speaks loudly as she says goodbye again in an agitated manner “We'll be praying for you.”

YN is speechless with the sudden change in attitude and wonders if it was a message from God or if the nun saw something strange outside. Thoughtful, she doesn't notice when the old forester approaches with the colored papers for the bouquet and a surprise between them.

“Here you go, this paper will certainly enhance the tones of the flowers.”

“Oh, thank you very much!”

“Yn… I have something else for you.”

The old man puts a gun in YN's hand as he explains seriously, "They're just two silver bullets. One to distract him when that kid wants to threaten you and get out of line… the other for when he thinks you're a tough guy and you're putting your foot down on him."

Me… kill him? Are you telling me to kill him?

"Mr. Thomas, I don't think it's necessary…"

"There's no point in running away, girl."

He says so seriously that YN's smile falls and she looks at him with more questions than answers.

"You broke up the first time, and you got back together. You're trying to make things easier for him, and you're going to break up again, and then you're going to get back together again." He sighs painfully

"The cycle will only end when someone dies… and I don't want it to be you, girl."

The old florist was fed up with seeing rude boys pick beautiful flowers one day, and their parents come to buy funeral arrangements the next, apologies that turn into funeral invitations, beautiful flowers being crushed by ill-intentioned people, every day. Each story has a specific situation, but the cycle is the same: the girl dies in the end.

“With a man so obsessed with you, he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. He’ll go after you to the ends of the earth, YN.” The florist places his gentle hand on Yn’s hand and closes it, making the girl accept the gun firmly “This is for you to defend yourself… and end this cycle”

How ironic, from a place so full of life, YN left with two deadly objects in her bag and a beautiful bouquet in her hands.

--------

Unfortunately, the way from the florist to her boyfriend’s house is not very long and YN drives the motorcycle slowly as if she wanted to buy more time for the inevitable. In nature, the mother puts food in the mouths of the little birds because they cannot feed themselves and from one day to the next they are pushed off the branch to learn how to fly. YN feels exactly like this, her boyfriend took care of everything for her, from a hair out of place to more complex situations, in two weeks Kain had such a strong effect on YN's mind that she depended on him for everything and felt like she was floating in the clouds, without any thought or instinct for survival… now she feels pushed off the branch, struggling with her little wings to keep from crashing to the ground and fighting for survival.

When she reaches the door of the house with her heart beating fast, she realizes that she has no plan or strategy for this situation, just an instinct not to die.

It's him or me.

It's better to face madness with a plan than to sit still and let it take you in pieces. - the little voice in her head advises again

She could go back to her own house, but he would follow her there. She could go somewhere full of people, but eventually the two of them would come face to face. It could be at any moment. It's just a matter of time to postpone the inevitable, the anxiety was eating her up inside, devouring her stomach while her mind fought not to sink into this storm, looking for possibilities in which it would come out on top.

Fuck this. Fuck you. Fuck Kain. Fuck everything.

She knocks on the door with a blank look and prepares herself for the worst, clutching her bag tightly.

Is this how the victims facing the guillotine felt? A straight line to death?

5 minutes later, the door remains closed and YN decides that she will open the door herself and enter the house.

"Excuse me…. Kain?" She leaves the bouquet in the living room while following the scent coming from the kitchen. She looks for him around the house and comes across a breathtaking scene: The handsome man is wearing an apron again, humming some music with his headphones while preparing something in the kitchen.

“L… is for the way you look at me” he stirs the pan with something gelatinous, completely immersed in the music.

“O… is for the only one I see…” almost like a spontaneous dance. Kain takes a tray from the fridge and unmolds little hearts and places them on a crystal tray.

“V… is very very… extraordinary.”

"E… is even more than anyone that you adore can….." her boyfriend pours the appetizing syrup over the little hearts, it's a bright red, a mouth-watering syrup. But not as much as Kain, he's wearing a formal white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow exposing his strong arms and jeans that are tighter on the thighs, his locks are messy in an attractive way. For a minute her instinct tells her to bite him all over, mark every little bit of that juicy body and forget any stupid plans. His eyes widen when they see that his beloved has already arrived, taking off his headphones and meeting her at the kitchen door.

"Oh, my dear! Are you here yet?" he wipes his hands on a dish towel and takes off his apron, and hugs her, a smell of sugar mixes with his irresistible cologne.

"…yes, yes… what are you doing?" YN takes a moment to compose herself

“It was supposed to be a surpriseeeeee~” he whines, placing his head on her shoulder “I know you’re really stressed because of work, so I prepared a recipe for you to try.”

He leads her to the kitchen counter hand in hand before she can protest and takes one of the sweets from the tray, cooling it with a breath and placing it in front of YN’s mouth.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart~” with a hoarse voice he asks, placing the sweet in his girlfriend’s mouth “It’s delicious, huh? I prepared it with you in mind.” He whispers, keeping his eyes intense in her eyes, he licks his lips when she lets out a small sound of satisfaction

“It is…. but what did you put in here?” she feels her body go slowly limp and a strange heat starting to tingle through her body

“Nothing.” He grabs another sweet and eats it too, staring at YN as he holds her against the kitchen counter with strong arms “Just something to make you more excited… more relaxed” he squeezes her thighs, bringing her closer as he whispers in a sultry tone

“Let me take care of you, darling~” Kain presses a slow kiss to the girl's jaw

“You look so tense… what happened?” He could feel Yn's breathing intensifying, his own heart beating voraciously trying to keep his desire under control, needing to taste her once more, see her go crazy once more...

"W-wait, Kain…" with one hand on YN's delicate back, Kain pressed her tightly against him, taking her lips in a hungry and possessive kiss, frowning in desire, feeling the shivers on his body intensify

The juicy syrup was already delicious on its own, but when the creature put aphrodisiacs in it, it got even better. Everything was going well, everything was very good until the nosy boss spilled the beans, he dealt with it in his own way, but YN still remembered what happened the night before, he didn't know what exactly… but it was enough for her to move away from him unconsciously, wanting to be independent with that damned black bag, looking for answers to questions she shouldn't even be thinking about and worse… maybe she was planning to run away. He would never allow that.

The couple pulls away for air with YN biting his lower lip, making him let out a low moan “Oh my darling…. did you know I love you so much?” He presses their bodies even closer, practically glued together as his hand wanders inside her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her belly

"You're so beautiful…" he bites YN's ear in a hoarse voice "Did you know I would do anything for you, huh?"

"A-anything?"

"Yes, anything for you, my sweetie~" he goes back to kissing her with desire, his body trembling and writhing to touch every part of her, wanting more of her delicious love, sucking on her desire, wanting to get under her skin, molding her as if they were one flesh, isn't it beautiful?

He was hungry for her.

Every time she resisted a little as if she was coming to her senses, Kain would take another candy and put it in her mouth, and another… and another… until he was drunk with love in the valley of her breasts, with his pants getting tighter every second rubbing between YN's legs…..

"Oh my sweet Yn…. you're all mine huh?" he bites her neck "All of it. Heart and mind. Right?" he rubs harder

“I'm all yours, you know? All yours…. yours…” he murmurs a few more times in a low, hoarse voice

“I'm crazy about you…. I love you so much…” Kain's chest rises and falls hard, his breathing is heated as he moans lightly, his pupils extremely dilated as he observes YN's reactions, his gaze clouded by extraordinary sensations

“You love me too, don't you Darling?” smiling like a fool, Kain cups her cheeks making her look at him, it takes her a while to answer or even realize that he's talking to her “YN.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you love me?” this time his voice is more serious, hurt that she didn't answer at first. Is the spell being broken?

“…. I… love you, Kain.” She closes her eyes and answers, it was a painful truth and that in seconds, it would be nothing more than memories.

“I love you too, Yn,” he hugs her again affectionately, suffocating her with sweet words and his presence, “You don’t know how much.”

The fire dissipates soon after with such an intense makeout, leaving the ashes of what it consumed. YN feels disgusted and mentally tired, as if she had been trapped again.

Get a grip, YN, let’s go… there’s a killer in the house.

She washes her face and as if the neurons of audacity were being connected, as if the survival instinct spoke faster, she has an interesting idea.

“Honey, what flowers are those?” the male voice asks from the living room, looking with disgust at the beautiful bouquet of alstroemerias on the sofa.

YN turns on the fire and puts water to boil, putting some myrtle leaves in the water, making the smell slowly spread throughout the house. With a mischievous smile, she asks in a sweet voice.

“Honeey, bring it here to leave it there in the living room, please. I'll be right there.” He mentally curses the flowers, coughing and sneezing a lot as he grabs a nearby cloth and wraps his hands in it, taking the flowers to the other side of the room while YN stands at the kitchen door, debating internally whether he should continue with the plan in mind as she watches the scene.

He heads to the living room, sitting on the couch and gesturing for her to follow him. Meanwhile, his expression gently closes, showing a slight irritation with the flowers… and smelling a different scent in the air making him feel unbalanced, but he can't say what it is yet.

"Let's talk a little, my love. I feel like there's something bothering you."

"Yes, love… there's something I've been thinking about for a few days." She sits in the chair opposite him, her posture straight and rigid and her hands folded politely on her lap.

She mentally tells herself that she is strong and brave, and that this is not scaring her, when in fact her insides are screaming at her to get out of there and that this is just a serious conversation that every normal couple has.

Kain watches her with an expression of apparent interest and curiosity. He crosses his arms, his expression slightly closed as he listens to her speech.

"Oh, I'm curious. What were you thinking, love?"

What if I just break up with him and run away?

The handsome man waits expectantly for her to speak, although there is a slight tension noticeable in his body and expression. his fingers flapping on the couch like tired butterfly wings, an act that would normally make YN anxious and she would throw a pillow at him playfully as a tease. But not now. Not when she's closed like an old book, when her expression is hard to read.His eyes examine her carefully, looking for any sign of weakness or discomfort, wondering what he could do to solve this.

"You must have heard that saying, we all have skeletons in our closets…" she begins with the worst metaphor possible for a murderer, and as if she were slowly running her hand over a soft fabric, in a quick and unvarnished movement she asks:

"…and I've been wondering, is there something you're hiding from me?""

Kain straightens up in his chair as he listens to her, trying to appear calm and unconcerned. His gaze changes from curiosity to a slight discomfort inside.

"Ah, that saying… What makes you think I'm hiding something from you?" He tries to keep his voice soft, but there's a slight note of caution in his words

"I'll give you two options: Female instinct or survival instinct?" she asks, analyzing him, herself not knowing where to begin

Kain continues to look at her with a distressed expression as he tries to think of a way to make her understand. His voice comes out desperate as he tries to convince her to his side.

"Hmm, female instinct or survival instinct? It seems like you really want an explanation, love." He laughs and adjusts himself in the chair slightly. "Female instinct, come on. What are you saying?"

"Okay, let's go: You are not Kain… the real one." She calmly tells the fact that the skinwalker thought she would never find out, his smile falling and a surprised expression on his face.

"Who are you?" Kain's expression closes and his mask of calm and relaxation completely dissolves. His blue eyes widen slightly, showing a tone of surprise and fear inside.

After a brief pause, he answers with a voice that tries to be calm, but shows nervousness, the effect of the myrtle tea permeating the air makes Kain feel unbalanced in his powers and disguises, the magic becoming more difficult to maintain and an absurd hunger growing in his stomach.

"Me? I'm your boyfriend. The love of your life. The person you're going to spend the rest of your life with. What do you mean, asking me who I am?" he turns his head in a cute way with a scary connotation.

"Who are you?" YN asks again in a louder and more serious tone this time, standing up aggressively from the chair with her bag tightly clutched.

"The Kain I know died in a car accident!" YN spits out the fact, like a poison that needed to be released.

Her boyfriend watches her with a confused and nervous expression. Kain tries to think of an excuse or explanation, but he knows there's no way to get out of the situation, not after yesterday's gap, like pieces fitting together in a puzzle he knows she knows. After a few moments, he takes a deep breath, his voice coming out with a tone of resignation.

The house of cards has fallen. The bastille has been invaded. The spell has been broken. YN is fully awake now.

"Oh…"

"So you know." Kain continues, his voice taking on a more serious and possessive tone. "That makes things a little more complicated, doesn't it?"

Perhaps, if he was strong enough, he would conjure something to convince her that he is her real boyfriend.

Perhaps, if YN was still under his control, she would believe

But if he doesn't know at what exact moment it went out of control, then it's much more difficult to recover, like an arrow shooting in the darkness. The creature doesn't know how the night will end, and neither does Yn to be honest.

Who is the prey and who is the hunter?

As humans say "a spanking doesn't hurt" to raise children, maybe telling the truth and giving them something to fear is also educational? Who knows?

Who knows,perhaps it's time to step out of the shadows.

"I won't hide from you anymore, sweetheart. I… I want you. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were special to me." Kain gets up from the couch and walks towards YN, who slowly moves away from him, watching him with a bitter look, no longer the passionate and loving look.

"I was watching you, admiring you. And finally, I managed to have you all to myself. But you're smarter than I had anticipated, love. More determined, harder to control. I admit it."

"So baby, I think our relationship should end….. what guarantees me that I won't be your next victim?" She quickly takes the gun out of her black bag and points the gun at him when she sees him transform into the monstrous appearance of the creature.

Kain watches her with a frustrated and threatening look, his voice becoming hoarse and deep as his body transforms into his true skinwalker form.

"Ohhh, baby, do you really think you can just break up with me like that, so easily? After everything I went through to have you?" his voice becoming hoarse and deeper as her body transforms into its true form

The creature gradually reveals its most hideous and repulsive appearance, stretching its body until it almost touches the ceiling, its hands becoming thinner and with prominent veins, its skin becoming terribly paler and with its color revealed, in certain places there are red and purple spots like bruises and in others, green spots like fungi in various parts of the body. The clothes torn by the transformation gave the girl the vision of the skin sticking together in some parts, delimiting the body in a terrible and pulled way, she could count how many ribs it had and the heart, as if swollen abnormally, makes a large bulge in the middle of the chest, she could count the beats clearly and a damn strong smell.

Faced with such horror, Yn lowered the gun slightly, and felt the acid in her stomach rise with such horror, the butterflies in her stomach were fake, they had transformed into spiders slowly scratching her throat. For a moment, she thinks she should have just dumped him on the bike and run away.

“You don’t frighten me,” said YN, although they did frighten her, very much.

The creature smiles.

“You are such interesting prey, love. So… tempting.” He approaches her, his voice taking on a more seductive tone.

Kain continues to approach her, his eyes shining with a mixture of desire and cruelty inside. His voice is soft but threatening and YN points the gun frightful at him again.

“You cannot avoid your fate, darling. You are mine. And I will not let you go so easily. You are my prey … And I will hunt you until the end of time if necessary.”

“Find someone else for this.” She says firmly as she walks away from him.

Kain takes two steps forward, YN takes three steps back.

They both dance in a tense and predatory rhythm.

The creature watches her with frustration as she move away from him. His body shows anger and aggression inside as he tries to think of a way to keep her close to him.

“Oh, my love, do you really think it will be that easy to get rid of me? You can try to escape, but I will always find you. And we will always find each other, even if I have to steal the skin of every person you see out there.” He roars determinedly “I will always hunt you. Don’t try to resist, love… It’s useless.”

“There’s no point in fighting, love. I am the darkness that inhabits the shadows, the creature that lives in horror stories. And you… You are my light, my obsession, my desire…"

He is now close to her, his voice taking on a more possessive and threatening tone as he sucks the shadows around him in a dark way, the horrifying creature feels stronger now and he makes sure to show it visibly, his body becoming larger and more muscular, the claws in his hands becoming large and sharp.

The poor girl's heart accelerates as her breathing becomes rapid and shallow and the feeling of desperation takes over her as she sees the creature's new form.

"You are my prey, love. And I will not stop until I have you as mine"

"My skin stays with me, thank you." YN says with anger in her eyes as she puts her finger on the trigger, the atmosphere is tense, and they both know that a fight will break out at any moment.

Kain watches her with frustration as his determination is challenged. His voice becomes harsher as he sees the gun in his girlfriend's hands.

"Oh, do you really think that this weapon will protect you from me? I'm older, more powerful, stronger than anything you've ever faced, love." He tenses, as if preparing to act at any moment."You can't beat me, love. No matter how much you try to resist…"

"I heard silver bullets are your weakness, love… let's find out together if this will work?" she says in a sarcastic tone.

Kain watches her with frustration as he realizes that she knows about his weaknesses. His expression closes, showing displeasure as he listens to her sarcastic provocation.

"Oh, you think it's very funny, don't you? But you don't know what I'm capable of doing to keep you tied to me. You don't know how cruel and desperate skinwalkers can be. I'll have you, love, no matter what it takes." At that exact moment there are frantic knocks on the door, making them stop immediately.

"YN, OPEN THE DOOR!"

It was old Thomas, the florist taking the place of the hunter in an old tale. The poor man, worried about the girl, decided to go check on YN's well-being. The situation must be very serious for her to have picked up the gun.

Oh…. no…..

YN looks at the door and at Kain.

Kain looks at the door and at YN.

Both surprised by Mr. Thomas's unusual visit to the house, but with different emotions.

YN is paralyzed by the idea of ​​him being in the middle of the shooting and the creature.

Kain smiles predatorily at the great opportunity in front of him.

"Ahh, it seems we have an unexpected visitor here, love." His gaze turns back to YN, his head turning horribly 180 degrees, his expression showing a slight tone of evil, licking his lips. "Maybe I should deal with him first, before he messes up our plans?"

"YN! TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!" the old man continues to scream outside, ignorant of the horrible situation inside the house.

The girl's breath catches in her throat, without moving a muscle, without any provocative response to retaliate against the creature, the gears in her brain stop momentarily as she weighs a possibility to remove Mr. Thomas from the scene, the loophole in her plan.

"Oh, my darling, you're worried about that nosy old man, aren't you? Will he ruin our little plans? Or will he just watch as I claim you as mine?" He uses an arrogant tone, with false sympathy as he watches his paralyzed girlfriend, he slowly approaches the door until he touches the handle.

"Don't. You. Dare." With a gritted teeth she threatens before she can think of the consequences. Kain watches her with frustration at her reaction. His hand is ready to open the door, but he hesitates at her determined voice. He looks at YN with an irritated look.

"Oh, you really think you're going to stop me from dealing with him, love? You don't know what you're messing with, sweetie."

YN's finger is on the trigger as she slowly approaches the creature, ready to shoot if necessary. "Leave Thomas out of this!"

Kain tenses as YN approaches him with her finger on the trigger of the gun, ready to fire at any moment. H

His expression closes as he watches her cautiously. "Ah, YN, you're braver than I ever imagined." He tries to maintain control of the situation, although there's a note of desperation in his voice that he tries to disguise with arrogance by raising his chin.

"What are you going to do, love? Are you going to shoot me? I'm faster than you."

"But not faster than a bullet."

Kain tenses when he hears the determination in her voice, the cutting words almost hurting him. His expression closes as he knows she's serious, YN has always been very determined and attentive to details, it was difficult to get into her life and he wasn't going to get out that easily.

"Oh love, are you really serious? Are you really capable of shooting me if necessary? I thought you loved me."

The old man knocks on the door again.

"YN, if you don't say you're okay, I'll break into the house myself!" Mr. Thomas threatens and Yn sighs again, knocking more frantically on the door, making her shiver.

Kain observes YN's frustration and fear as the old man continues to knock on the door. His evil mind works quickly and he realizes the delicious opportunity opening up before him. With a malicious look, he takes advantage of the situation.

"Oh, honey, it seems our friend isn't very patient, is he? Will he really come in if you don't answer?"

Oh my god Thomas…… what did you come here to do? How do I get out of this situation?

"Tik tok, little princess~ it's rude to keep visitors waiting. Aren't you going to answer?"

What if he comes in? Will he be another victim of this creature? Will Kain make a show of devouring him in front of me or the other way around?

THINK YN THINK

"I'm curious to know how this night will end… you or the old man? Do you want me to choose?" With her delay, the skinwalker walks to the door, steps light as a feather while the bones creak and move from place to place while walking in a bizarre way. When Kain puts his hand on the doorknob threatening to turn it, she screams without thinking twice.

"M-MR. THOMAS!" she lets out a scream that she had been holding in since the beginning of the conversation

"…. I….. I'm fine! I'll explain it to you by message later, okay? Have a good night!" She trembles all over when she hears the friendly florist say goodnight back to her, his footsteps receding and echoing in the silent night.

YN allows a momentary wave of relief to wash over her, telling herself that the important thing is that the old man is safe and out of the picture. Kain huffs in anger but inside he is smiling proudly, holding YN where he wants her, but when he turns around he finds her not shaking with fear or more sensitive because of the threat to the old man but finds the young woman remaining vigilant and with the gun, her arms hurt from holding the gun so tightly but she fears that the moment she lowers it she will be killed.

Do not take your eyes off the thing under any circumstances. Do not take your eyes off the thing under any circumstances. Do not take your eyes off the thing under any circumstances.

Her mind works quickly to come up with a plan of action, the mental gears working hard to overcome the lock. She knows that facing a creature with supernatural powers will not be an easy task, but she tries to remain calm even with the fear running through her veins. She tries to remember something she saw on the internet to help her, but her mind is blank, only focusing anxiously on the horrible figure in front of her.

"You're so stubborn, love. I'm trying to show mercy, but you insist on being difficult, don't you? I'm starting to get tired of your stubbornness. Let's see how long you can resist, princess." He huffs, slowly approaching her, like prey stalking prey until they are both close, his body bending inhumanly until he is at her level.

His voice booms in Yn's ears, as if bringing her back to reality and her surroundings.

As YN observes the locked door, an idea springs to her mind, she remembers that the bedroom window is open, which could offer an opportunity for escape… or distraction.

But Kain knows her very well.

"You know I'm faster than you." He immediately stops his train of thought by crossing his arms, the smell of myrtle still present in the room like a toxic and poisonous perfume. Her plan to try to escape through the window is unexpectedly interrupted when the creature intercepts his thoughts, speaking softly as it crushes any and all hope of YN, leaving her with one last and morbid solution.

"Are you really thinking of trying to escape through the window? I think you know that I am faster than you, my love. That would be useless."

"But you are not faster than a bullet." She repeats the phrase she said earlier, Yn's arms tremble painfully from holding on so much, but her gaze is more precise and focused now. Upon hearing her threat, the skinwalker lets out an irritated sigh. This story again?

"Oh, you are really going to threaten me with that thing? I told you I'm invulnerable to firearms," ​​he says, his voice turning cold and calculating. "Unless you want to make a huge mistake, you should put that gun down."

"You may be invulnerable… But I'm not." YN smiles as if she's won and points the gun at her own head.

The skinwalker's grim expression is immediately replaced by a look of shock and concern as you point the gun at yourself.

"Hey, hey! Stop it!" he barks orders, his voice surprisingly alarmed. "What do you think you're doing?!" The creature approaches you, clearly anxious about what you're about to do

"Please, put that rifle down!" he insists, trying to remain calm despite the tense situation, his blue eyes almost popping out of his misshapen head. "You don't want to do this, trust me."

"You're not giving me a choice, my dear, and desperate people do desperate things." YN shakes like a leaf in the wind and her eyes start to water again, but her entire aura shows his unwavering purpose.

He – the thing – can feel it.

"No, please don't think like that," he begs. "What you're doing is a mistake. We just need to talk and come to an agreement, okay? It doesn't have to be this way, my love. Please put that rifle down." The creature feels its own inhuman heart stop and with great pain and discomfort it returns to the humanoid form that YN was used to - the perfect boyfriend, Kain, extending his hand in a gesture of supplication

"Let's think it over, okay? We can talk, negotiate, anything. But please put that gun down. It won't help at all. Let's talk."

Now he's getting to where I want to go… let's negotiate: my freedom

"I know this whole situation is complicated," the boyfriend adds, clearly trying to remain calm. "But it doesn't have to end like this. Let's talk, find a solution, okay? There's no need to despair. Please put that rifle down." Kain grows even more tense as he watches the situation unfold before him. His words come out more insistent now as he desperately tries to think of a way to reverse the situation.

"Oh, honey, don't do this. You don't have to go that far. I can change, I can be less scary." He approaches her, his gaze filled with desperation as he tries to take the gun from her hands, slowly approaching her as the two walk unconsciously to the kitchen.

"Less scary, Kain? It's not about looks, but about your skeletons in the closet. I'm. not. going. to. be. next." She says, stamping her foot on the floor to punctuate her arguments.

Kain continues to look at her with a distressed expression as he tries to think of a way to make her understand. His voice comes out desperate as he tries to convince her on his side.

"Oh, love, I know I have my skeletons in the closet, but you don't have to go that far. I can change, I can be different for you. I won't hurt you, I'm not the monster you think I am."

"What guarantees me that, creature?"

Ouch.

YN asks him, everything she read on the internet was that they were lying and sadistic creatures, how can she see such desperation and genuineness in his blue eyes?

Kain continues to look at her with anguish as he tries to formulate words that can convince her. His hands tremble as he hears her words ‘creature’ so venomously and cruelly, as if the two of them didn’t have a love story together - this one, which YN doesn’t even know half of the obsession.

“Love, I swear, I’m different from the others. I’m not a liar or a sadist. I only came after you because I wanted you, I just wanted to have you for myself.” He pauses briefly and continues to look into her eyes, desperately trying to make her see the truth in his words.

“Please, love, trust me. I won’t hurt you, I just want to have you. I just want to protect you and take care of you. I'm different from the others… You need to believe me."

Liar Liar Liar

In a moment of distraction, the pot with herbs that weaken the creature dries up and all the water evaporates, causing the herbs to start burning, drawing YN's attention. Taking advantage of the moment when the girl's eyes quickly observe the pot, Kain runs and takes the gun from her, throwing it under the table while hugging her and containing her in his strong arms.

"Ah, love, I finally managed to make you stop. You don't know how worried I was about you." His voice sounds soft as he hugs her tighter while taking them both to the floor.

Run away run away run away run away

"Let me go! Let go of me! HELP! SOMEONE! LET ME GO!" He hugs her tighter as he continues to speak in her ear sweetly.

"I know you were desperate, I know you were afraid of me. But you don't have to be afraid, love. I will never hurt you. I'm your boyfriend, I just want to take care of you and protect you."

"Let me go! Let me go!" she struggles in his arms. Kain continues to hug her as she struggles in his arms. His hands grip her tighter as he tries to hold her.

"No, my dear, I won't let you go. You're too desperate, and I won't let you go." He tries to calm her down as he continues to hug her, his voice comes out soft but determined.

YN continues to scream and tears of deep despair come from her eyes, she claws at Kain's arms as she tries to drag herself out of the desperate prison that is the creature's love.

"Shhh, love, you need to calm down. I know you're scared, but it doesn't have to be this way. I'll take care of you, I'll protect you like I've always done until now. You need to trust me."

"Are you going to protect me from what if the one who can kill me here is you? You fucking liar!" she stops screaming momentarily to retort to him, her hoarse throat thanks her.

Kain continues to hug her protectively as she desperately tries to get out of his arms, like a cat would try to get out of its owner's arms. His hands hold her tighter as he tries to explain his situation with sweet words, suffocating her with love and kindness as he holds her hands so that YN doesn't hurt him anymore, the small scratches she made were nothing compared to Kain's broken heart.

"My darling, you don't understand. I don't want to hurt you, I want to protect you from other creatures… and from yourself. You are safe with me. Trust me. Don't you like this world? Stay here and with me."

"Liar! Let me go! Let me go!" YN feels her eyes burning and the body with thorns piercing her soft skin, her air being suffocated with each passing minute painfully, as if he were in everything and every shadow in the kitchen watching her from every angle.

“Nana baby…… Cuca's coming to get you…. ...Đ₳ĐĐɎ ₩Ɇ₦₮ ₮Ø ₮ⱧɆ ₣₳Ɽ₥, ₥Ø₥₥Ɏ ₩Ɇ₦₮ ₮Ø ₩ØⱤ₭……

Eventually, after struggling in the man's arms and crying desperately for hours, Kain sings the strange and hypnotic song to calm YN, and finally finally she reluctantly falls asleep in Kain's arms.

Please Marta, fulfill your promise and pray for me.

Tags: @buniwtch @spookynotkid @aminekun009 @twinklingbeautifulstars @heizouislife @cheesecakeyuri @hewhehe @sumeyyeecrin

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥

[a-b-riddle]

Runaway Love (kidnapper Price x captive reader)

cw: established kidnapping, violence, intimidation, unplanned pregnancy, miscommunicated threat of forced abortion, eventual Stockholm syndrome, housewife kink. Reader just accepts her situation at this point. Dub-con, non-con.

You couldn't think of anything except the pain that radiated with each step toward your room. You were lucky your work and home were the same place. It was incomprehensible, downright unbelievable how some of the other maids worked their shift and then either walked home or walked to the bus stop.

Granted, most of them weren't pregnant and had shoes that actually fit, but you didn't like to complain. You were lucky to have the job, even if it was back breaking. You had a roof over your head and although the pay was minimal, you were able to buy essentials and save up and with a baby on the way every penny saved counted.

Most importantly, you were free. You were safe and so was the baby. It had been the only reason that after almost a year, you had finally been brave enough to escape. Knowing that it would be hard to rebuild a life from scratch. Knowing that the consequences meant a punishment so severe you could only hope for death.

You had tracked your period religiously. Even with the stress of being held captive by a psycho military Captain, your cycles were fairly normal. So when you were five days off, you knew. In a moment in which you wanted nothing more than to be happy to finally be starting the family you dreamed about having as a little girl, fear enveloped you.

John had never mentioned kids. Only a wife. Someone to be at home waiting for him. Keeping the house in order and his bed warm while he was away.

All I need is you and the boys, Birdie. What more could a man want?

You considered telling him. Hoping that he would be as happy as you wanted to be. Yet anytime you came close to telling him over the next two weeks, horrible thoughts raced through your mind. What if he was angry? What if he blamed you even though he practically took you whenever he pleased? How would he terminate the pregnancy or would he be content in letting you give birth without any medical intervention and simply get rid of the baby after?

Would he just get rid of you altogether?

It was like the universe was telling you to run when shortly after you decided that telling him wasn't the answer, that he told you he was going on a mission. Won't be back for a couple of weeks. Sent the boys to pick up anything you'll need. I know you'll be good for me.

You had been good. For that last six months, you had behaved. Didn't pull away from his touch or put up a fuss. You lived in the epitome of domestic bliss, so John had no reason to send you down to the basement. Not when you had so many opportunities to try to escape and you didn't.

Granted, he had threatened to break your legs during your first and last stunt. You had been in the basement for three weeks. Living in near darkness as he brought all of your meals. You had been upstairs for about twenty minutes and barely made it to the door before he tackled you. Pinning you to the ground, breath hot against the back of your neck as he hissed in your ear. Ungrateful little brat.

Your apologies fell on deaf ears as he hauled you back down where you would stay for six weeks.

For months you built the relationship on a lie. A lie John deluded himself into believing. Anytime he told you he loved you, you repeated the words back. Wanting to scrub your body raw anytime he touched you and hating yourself anytime he made you come.

But it had been worth it. You were four months along, and given your ill-fitted clothes, not really showing, but knowing that in another five months you would be holding the baby you always wanted. A baby that you had went through hell for. Seeing his or her face for the first time, being their mom would be worth it.

You kept all of the lights off. It was a request of the motel owners to reduce their bills. So even if it was early December and you knew you would be walking back to a freezing room, they didn't give a shit. In truth, they were doing you a favor only charging you $400 in rent with unlimited access to their laundry services. You suppose having the pity of others did have its perks.

You hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights before pulling your shoes off your feet and plopping down on the bed. The grit and grim still felt thick on your skin, but you couldn't find the energy to care. You would shower and get on a fresh set of clothes you had gotten from the shelter when you first made it into the city, but for now you needed a moment. Just a few minutes to decompress.

A few minutes turned into five and then ten. Before you knew it, you had been laying in the bed floating in and out of consciousness for almost twenty minutes. You knew you needed to get up. Wash away the grime of the day that had settled on your skin. Your clothes smelling faintly of bleach.

Fuck you were tired.

You were always tired.

You got up and made your way to the bathroom, barely keeping your eyes opened. Not confident enough you would actually be able to take a shower without wanting to lay down in the tub and let all the strain of the day go down the train.

It's funny how the human body can make us teeter on the edge of sleep. We imagine things that may or not be there. But when you heard it, when you heard that voice coming from the corner of you room, you knew you weren't imagining anything.

"Wonderin' when you'd wake up."

[little-diable]

A dare to kiss - Tyler Owens (smut)

I'll keep on riding the Tyler train till my ideas run out. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader have been best friends for years. But after another storm season, she finally snaps and realises she can't be around him any longer, not when her feelings for him won't let go of her. But perhaps the feelings aren't unrequited as she fears.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), friends to lovers, idiots in love, some angst, but a very happy ending

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (2.4k words)

“How old are you? Stop it, Boone!” (Y/n)’s voice dripped with annoyance, eyes flickering from her friends and colleagues down to her drink. It had been their last day of chasing, saying goodbye to another season that had been filled with exciting but also horrible moments they all haven’t quite processed just yet.

“Oh, c’mon, it’s just a kiss!” Boone excitedly clapped his hands while he let his gaze wander from (y/n) to Tyler, who was looking at her with an unreadable expression. They no longer knew who had started their annual game of truth and dare, passing a few hours where they got to spill secrets, fears, and do harmless dares to end the night with stomachs that hurt from laughing too much.

At least it had always been like that until this very dare, something that clearly went too far for her aching heart. Her feelings for Tyler were no secret, they all knew of the feelings she harboured for her best friend – all but Tyler, who obliviously chased other women while (y/n) was forced to suffer around him. 

“Give her another dare, Boone.” Tyler’s voice drew all eyes towards him, ripping their hope of finally being able to push the two of them together into shreds. They were too focused on Tyler to pick up on the hurt crossing her features. It was her own fault, she should have just kissed him, should have crossed the distance between them while the chance had been right there for her to grasp. A chance that had passed the second Tyler had spoken up.

“You know what, I’m tired anyway, I’ll head back to the motel.” She rose to her trembling feet, hands buried in the pockets of her jacket to hide the fists she had balled them into from their confused eyes. She didn’t wait for them to speak up, turned from them with an aching heart and allowed the darkness to swallow her while almost jogging back to her room. 

Even though (y/n) hated parting from the group, not wanting to leave them that early on their last evening together, she needed to be alone with her thoughts for a while. Staying this close to Tyler for the past weeks had been more exhausting than she had thought it would be, unable to endure his closeness any longer. She should look forward to returning home, to quiet hours where she won’t have to worry about hiding the feelings she hadn’t been able to let go of for the past years. 

The door to her room fell shut behind her, letting the silence wrap itself around (y/n) while she wiped away the tears that had started to fall. Curses rumbled through her, she felt as if she was drowning, unable to breathe while the room closed in on her. Her body started moving without listening to her mind's command. She threw all her stuff into her bag, hastily reaching for her things as her vision grew more blurry. 

She needed to get away, needed to make it home, she couldn’t stand being around him for another minute. She left the room with her heart in her throat, forced to a sudden halt before she could collide with Dexter. His hands shot out to catch her should she fall, drawing her tear stained features up towards him. 

“Oh, (y/n). What’s going on?” She let her head fall against his chest, searching the closeness of the man who had always treated her like his daughter, the first one she had told her feelings for Tyler to. A sob wrecked through her, forcing him to tighten his hold on her to keep (y/n) close. 

“I need to leave, I can’t do this any longer, Dexter. Here, this is my room key.” She pushed the key into his hand, trusting him to take care of checking her out in the morning. His hand ran up and down her spine in a comforting manner, set on soothing the pain she felt all too clearly. Another sob left (y/n) before she stepped out of the embrace. “Tell the others I’m sorry and that I’ll reach out soon.”

(Y/n) squeezed his hand one last time, trying to put on a soft smile for the man who stared down at her with pity swimming in his pupils. She felt his eyes on her as she jogged towards her truck, set on driving through the night to make it home before the sun would paint the horizon in bleeding colours.

……

“Hey, it’s me again. It’s been a while, and I really need to see you, (y/n). We need to talk, call me back, please.” 

She woke to new voice messages every single day since leaving a few weeks ago. At first Tyler had voiced out his disappointment and confusion, not understanding why she had left him just like that. And then the sadness had entered the picture, begging (y/n) to call him back because he missed her and was sorry for whatever he had done to her. And now his voice no longer carry any emotions, monotonous and unfamiliar without any nicknames he’d normally use. 

(Y/n) knew it was time for her to finally reach out to him, to bury her own sadness and her embarrassment and to call her best friend, if she could still call him that. Her hands shook as she clicked onto his contact, listening to it ring five times before he answered with a whisper of her name. 

“Hi,” no further word managed to leave her. She listened to him exhale, shuffle around before speaking up.

“Are you at home today? I’d come round to see you.” A part of her screamed at her to say no, knowing that she shouldn't meet him at home, the one place where she had managed to focus on her feelings, giving her space to think about them properly. But the stronger part knew it would be less awkward to see him here than somewhere else where they could easily run into fans. 

“I am.” His hum shot shudders down her spine, forcing her to fist the blanket she had tossed over her cold legs. 

“I’ll be over around three, see you then.” He ended the call before another word could leave her. Her stomach was churning, not used to his cold voice and how he spoke to her as if she was a business contact or a stranger almost. 

(Y/n) let her phone drop into her lap while she sank further into her couch. What would she even tell Tyler? She wasn’t ready for his rejection, wasn’t ready to mess up what was still remaining of their friendship. Even though she couldn’t stand being close to him for longer than a few hours, (y/n) also knew that life without Tyler by her side wasn’t worth living. 

……

“There you go.” She pushed the coffee towards Tyler who was leaning against the kitchen island, right across from her. His eyes followed her every move, ever since a rather awkward hug and exchanged pleasantries that felt as if they didn’t know one another at all. He shot her a grateful smile before taking a sip, not letting his gaze leave her nervous features once. “How are you?”

“Cut the bullshit, (y/n). Wanna tell me why my best friend ran from me and then decided to ghost me for the past weeks?” Her heart sank, letting her guilt settle deep inside her stomach. Her eyes found interest in studying her trembling hands, not daring to get lost in Tyler’s angry expression. 

“I’m sorry, I was just so exhausted with it all. I needed some time away.” A humourless laugh clawed through Tyler, a sound that finally forced her eyes back towards him. 

“You’ve never been good at lying. What is this really about, huh? Why did the others all seem to understand what’s going on, but you couldn’t tell me?” His voice carried his hurt, dripping with sadness and anger she also felt flushing through her system. 

“It's nothing you need to worry-“ the sound of his palm coming down on her kitchen island interrupted her, forcing her pupils to widen as he shook his head at her. It felt as if she was looking at a stranger, not once had she seen Tyler this hurt and angry, never directed at her at least.

“Just be honest, (y/n)! I’m supposed to be your best friend, or is this what this all is about? Do you no longer want to be-“ now it was on her to interrupt him.

“It’s because I’m in love with you, you idiot!” And then they were engulfed by nothing but silence. The seconds faded by, turning into almost a full minute of Tyler just staring at her with an unreadable expression. It seemed as if he was combing through his every moment with her, reliving all the past years to figure out how he could have missed this. His silence forced her lips to part again, knowing that she needed to say some more. 

“I tried to let go of it, I really did. But being around you made it impossible for me. I am sorry, I just needed some time alone. And then that dare, I wanted to kiss you so badly, but it would have been my end, and I couldn’t risk losing that last shred of sanity I had in me.” Her whispers lured Tyler closer, letting her watch him round the kitchen island to come to a halt in front of her. 

“Look at me, darling.” Her heart skipped a beat at the use of the nickname, taking some fear from her trembling body. Slowly she raised her gaze, looking up at him with glassy eyes as he cupped her cheeks with his big hands. “I’m sorry it took me this long to see it, but I was quite occupied with hiding my own feelings from you.”

Tyler’s words left her frozen, staring at him with confusion laced in her gaze. Her mind was racing, letting his words sink in to understand what he had just told her. A soft chuckle rumbled through him, “Will you let me kiss you? No dare this time.” 

She shifted her weight onto her toes, letting her lips collide with his. Tyler instantly replied to the touch, kissing (y/n) breathless while his hands moved down her sides. She deepened the kiss with a soft moan clawing through her, allowing his tongue to meet hers. Both their hearts were racing, pounding in their chests as if they had just returned from another chase, losing themselves in the adrenaline that still buzzed through them. 

Tyler parted from her for a moment, hands wandering down her thighs to pick her up and place her down on the kitchen island. For the first time since she had started being with partners, she truly felt weightless, trusting Tyler fully with whatever he had in mind. Slowly, he connected their lips again, kissing her to stop her racing thoughts from overthinking what was about to happen.

“Do you want this? Do you want to be touched by me?” His voice was raspy, deeper than it had been before - details that made her walls flutter in excitement. 

“Please, touch me, Tyler.” The hum he let go of was drowned out by her gasp as he pushed her back down on the kitchen island, feeling his wandering hands find their way to her pair of shorts. He pulled the fabric down her legs, panties following moments later to expose her lower body to his piercing eyes.

“What a beautiful sight, it was worth waiting for all these years.” Heat rose up her neck, spurred on by his praises. Carefully he touched her, letting his fingers brush through her slit, spreading her arousal on her skin. Goosebumps littered her body as if she was trapped in a cold room, unable to stop shaking. And yet her body was burning up, set ablaze by his touch. 

“I need to taste you, can I, baby?” Nothing but a moaned “yes” left (y/n). His tongue felt rough against her pulsing bundle, letting the sensation zap through her aching body like lighting. She tried to find something to hold on to, and yet her fingers could only wander to his head to tug on his almost golden roots. 

“Jesus fuck, why haven’t we done this sooner?” (Y/n)’s words left Tyler chuckling against her heat. The sound vibrated on her skin, pushing her even closer towards the edge.

“Seems like I ain’t doing my job well enough if you can still speak.” He was urging himself to move his tongue quicker while pushing two fingers into her heat. Her walls clenched around his fingers, drawing him even closer in while her orgasm crept closer and closer. A moan clawed through (y/n), letting it reverberate through the air as Tyler sucked on her pulsing bundle. 

“Atta girl, I got you, pretty.” He comforted her, cozied her along to finally push her over the edge. His name left her parted lips like a prayer, unable to think of any other thing to say as she felt the blinding sensation wander up her limbs. (Y/n) came without a warning, back arched off the cold kitchen island top. 

Tyler kept lapping at her folds to guide her through her high before he pressed one last kiss to her inner thigh. He moved up her body, hands stroking their way up her sides until he cupped her warm cheeks to pull her in for a kiss. 

“I love you, darling, and I promise to make up for all the time we’ve lost.” 

[farshootergotme]

I get emotional thinking about how his family would react to Bruce's change if he ever started working on himself, on improving his behavior. But the one I think about the most is Dick Grayson.

Alfred is the one who was there from the very beginning, but Dick Grayson is who arrived and made the biggest impact. He's the first kid who Bruce took in, the one who approached this man and became his first partner to fight by his side out in the night.

Dick was able to pull Bruce out of the darkness that consumed him. No matter how many times Bruce went back, Dick's presence was a constant reminder that there's not only shadows. That if Bruce pushes back, fights so he won't be dragged down, he will find light.

However, it was a cycle. Dick would get him out, but Bruce would go back, sooner or later. And repeat. And Dick realized this and knew he couldn't let that be his whole life. But despite the distance, it still affects Dick knowing he can't find a definite solution for Bruce.

So, seeing Bruce actually change, get better and seeing that last...it would lift the heaviest weight on Dick's shoulders, who's felt responsible for Bruce's emotions since the day he became Robin.

It's been implied to him that Bruce needs him, that he's who keeps him from falling. And Dick, despite not always feeling like he is enough, carries with that responsibility because, deep down, he also feels like he owes it to Bruce, who Dick has needed (still needs) present in his life, too.

Bruce getting better would be like being able to breath again, but it would be so suffocating too.

Dick would happy for Bruce, for the man who raised him. He'd be relieved that the hurt will stop, for both his father and those he's continuously pushed away. But then he'll be anxious, will it really last? How long until he can be sure? And he'll be scared, does he still need him, now? Does a Batman who's gotten help still need Dick Grayson Robin? Nightwing? And lurking in the back of his mind, there'd be anger. Why now? Why after all those years? Why not before? Was Dick not enough reason to change? Was he never worth this? And shame will drown those thoughts. It's selfish, to think that way. He should be happy. He wants to be happy. He is happy. But he is also mad. He's sad and he mourns the child who never saw this side of Bruce. And most of all, he loves. He loves Bruce too much to hate him for it. No matter how angry, no matter how hurt, he loves his father and he's grateful for him, for his efforts. And all he can do is smile and congratulate him because that's everything he feels he has the right to say.

And when all is said and done, Bruce will come to him and Dick will have to face the worst part of this change;

Apologies.

If Bruce has truly changed, then he would know there's more things than he can count with his fingers that he has to apologize to his son for. And out of everything else, this is what Dick Grayson fears the most.

Dick can take it, he can hear Bruce out, but he can't unpack all the pain he's been accumulating in front of his dad. He can't bring himself to say 'I forgive you' out loud despite having convinced himself long ago that it's alright.

Bruce doesn't didn't do apologies. Things happened and then went back to normal and Dick was okay with that. He forgave him, he did. So, Bruce doesn't need to apologize, he doesn't have to make him say it out loud. He can't tell him, but he's forgiven him long ago. Even if it hurt, even if he was still resentful sometimes, even if he wanted to yell at him for it, Dick could push it all down and forgive him. Bruce shouldn't apologize, shouldn't bring it up again because Dick isn't strong enough to keep it all bottled up if Bruce starts acknowledging it, if he confirms that Dick wasn't crazy for feeling wronged and hurt.

He can take it, but he really can't.

Just thinking about it drives me crazy because, out of everyone, Dick Grayson might be the kid who's been waiting for this the longest, and who thought he'd already given up the idea of his father finding a lasting happiness that would bring permanent change in him. And it would be just so overwhelming.

[the-bees-patella]

ok, well now what.

My fellow Americans: hello from your local pissed-the-fuck-off former community organizer.

You're probably seeing a lot of calls to support each other right now, and that's all well and good in principle. Where we tend to stumble is largely practical: we're not sure where, how, or when. The same way it works to make a plan to vote, make a plan to help. A few key points:

Please do not get impatient if the organization's response to you is late or generic at first, or if what you're asked to do isn't what you offered. A lot of local organizations—where your impact will be the greatest—are very small and 100% volunteer-run. You're here to help. Don't be one more thing they have to manage.

Be honest with yourself and the organization about your capacity. If that's a couple hours on a weekend from time to time, that's great. If that's driving people places once a month, if it's a small, regular donation—whatever it is, it's one more person helping who wasn't before. The point of doing it all together is that none of us can do everything, and it isn't on any one of us to do it all. It's much easier to scale up your participation than it is to take on a big responsibility and back out.

Stick with it. Everybody's fired up right now, and many organizations won't be lacking for personnel or funds...for now. They'll need you when it gets boring, when people get tired and busy. Whether it's recurring donations or one shift a week, stick with it for as long as you can, which is why see point 2 above. The need will not stop. The help can't either.

My aim with this brief list of organizations/funds is not to be comprehensive, it's more a starting point of both actual orgs and the types of opportunities there are out there. I highly encourage you to look around in your local community. There are people out there working on creative solutions in innovative ways to problems you didn't even know existed.

I know it might sound small or facile, but I promise, going out there and talking to real people will help. Just go to one meeting, on Zoom, in person, anything. Start there. Everything you're able to do is more than there was before.

Fascists thrive on despair and isolation, on mistrust and fear. But there is good in this world, it's worth fighting for, and you're part of it. The time is now. Let's fuck them up. (List below the cut).

If you're on bluesky, here is a much more specific list of organizations. If you're not, reply to this post or send me an ask with your region and I'll respond if I can. Everyone else, please feel free to add your local organizations in the reblogs. Make sure you do your vetting first; please link to a direct source/person/means of contact if you add something to the list.

Trainings and support for leaders to run for public school boards

And library boards

Black and brown youth organizing

Labor organizing in the South/Southwest

Mutual Aid in NYC/Donate to keep that mutual aid active

Mutual aid/volunteer orgs in DC

Supporting and training young progressives to run for office

Collective action against medical debt

Climate action