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bisexualiteaa · 3 days ago

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Omg! You should totally do one where he’s sexually frustrated. And the reader (female), teases him until he breaks! And when he does they get down to business BIG time if you know what i mean lol. But even when they do start to fuck the reader doesn’t listen to all his demands, making it more spicy once silco finally gets the reader exactly how he wants her.

On edge

AN: Thank you so much for this request!! I loved the idea so much and literally had so much fun writing this! Apologies that it took a few days, I again just wanted to make sure it was good and to what you asked! ♥️ I hope you enjoy and that I’ve done your ask justice! 🥺🫶

CW: no use of y/n, reader has hair, reader is AFAB, female anatomy, MDNI, cursing, teasing, heavy brät/brät tämer themes, Silco is t0uch deprived, r0ugh seggs, unprotected seggs, bïting, cream 🥧, slight dëgradation, p0rn w/o plot, äftercare, possible spelling/grammar errors

Also I’m not sure why, but as I was writing I was listening to this song and I just feel like it fits SO well! So listen along while you read if you’d like!

His forehead head sat in his hand as you entered his office, elbow leaned against the desk as his other hand held a glass, amber liquid and two ice cubes swirling around inside the ornate rocks glass. Whiskey, he only drank on the rougher days anymore, and judging by the cigar that sat in the ash tray on his desk, smoke emanating from it, told you he was having a day. You on the other hand, were in a different sort of mood, a bubbly, perhaps more mischievous mood. You weren’t quite sure what brought it about, whether it was your confidence just hitting a new high today, or what but you could tell from the sassy sway to your hips as you shut the door carefully behind you. Something you didn’t realize had in fact been noticed by him, he was just doing a very good job at hiding it.

“Rough day?” You asked innocently, sauntering over to his side as you stood beside him. The scent of your perfume filled his nose the moment you moved closer, leaving him to inhale its intoxicating scent. Sometimes he wondered if you mixed a sort of drug into it with the way he craved its familiarity, wishing to smell it on his sheets, his jacket. When he did, it drove him wild, the transfer of it from just a simple hug was enough to leave him clutching the large jacket and taking a whiff on occasion when no one was looking or when he was alone in his office. Each time he did, he could feel his cock twitch with excitement as his mind would then drift to you. Sinful thoughts filling his mind of how good you would look splayed against his sheets beneath him, or how you would look bent over his desk as he ravaged you. Shimmer had nowhere near the effects that you had on him, it was almost impressive as much as it was sad. How long had it been that the simple scent of your perfume could cause him to go mad? Or for your fleeting touches to leave him with such carnal need? He couldn’t remember, but you made him feel young again in that sense.

“Quite” he replied plainly, placing the glass down on the desk, trading it for his cigar that had already been halfway smoked. You watched as he took a long drag of it before leaning back and releasing the smoke in an exhale upwards, ensuring he wouldn’t breathe it into your face. You loved the scent of his cigars, something about the tobacco mixed with smoke and his own personal scent left you enjoying being around him as he smoked more than you probably should have. There was something just so alluring about it. “Every time I turn around it feels as if something has fallen apart and is in need of my attention” he finally explained, leaving you to look upon him sympathetically. The lines of stress etched into his forehead and brow spoke truth of this, the bags beginning to accumulate beneath his eyes only further evidence to his unrest. Your hand came to rest against his thigh, rubbing soothing circles along his skin. Something you’d done in the hopes it would help him calm down a little, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have ulterior motives behind it.

You felt his body tense for a moment from the soft touch, looking down at your hand that rested against his mid thigh. It was so close, so close yet so far. He wondered how it would look in your small, dainty hands, how good it would feel. He turned his head and shifted a little to try and erase the thought from his mind, but even as you removed your hand, its heat lingered on the spot like a painful reminder. “Zaun looks to their leader for guidance and aid, but even a leader deserves rest” you said, smoothing your hands along his jacket, flattening any wrinkles that formed from his previously hunched over position. You were bent over as you did, the shirt you were wearing giving him direct sight to your cleavage as your perfume continued to intoxicate him. Did you have any idea the things you were doing to him? Surely you had to, you couldn’t be so oblivious to your effect on him, could you? He was ashamed of the hold you had on him, how weak you made him from just a simple touch. He tried his best to hide it, and hide it well, but as you stood here before him he knew today may very well be the day he reaches his breaking point. “I’m granted no rest when someone walks through my door just about every hour” he replied, making you hum as you stood back up, watching his eyes trail you as you walked back over to the door. He felt himself release a breath he had no idea he’d been holding in as you put a slight distance between you. “Then lock it” you said with a cute little grin, the bolt turning in the door with an audible click before you turned back around, watching him clutch the cigar between his fingers with a fierce grip. His eyes bored into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, no one has ever looked at you like that, with such fire in their eyes, with such desire. It made your stomach twist in knots. “No one can bother you if they can’t get in” you finished before returning to his side, this time watching as you boldly sat on an empty corner of his desk.

You couldn’t quite read the look on his face as you did, but you had noticed the way his eyes would flit up and down your body when he thought you weren’t looking. He took in the way your pencil skirt seemed to raise past your mid thigh as you sat down, giving him a flash of your panties from beneath it when you would go to cross your legs, leaving him incredibly hard beneath his pants. You were toying with him, you had to be. There was no way you were doing this all unknowing of the effects you had on him. Pathetically, he was falling for it, and he hated that he was. He caught the glimpse of a grin resting on your sweet, plump lips as your downcast gaze trailed him up and down, waiting for a response. You were teasing him on purpose. “You play with fire” he stated, making you giggle. “I know, I can’t help myself. I like the possibilities of being burnt” you answered confidently, your foot dragging up and down his calf affectionately. Janna almighty you’ll be the death of him, but if that were to be the case, what a hell of a way to go.

You watched him as he stood before you, hands planting on either side of your thighs as his face hovered close to yours. “You think you’re so clever? Waltzing in here with that short little skirt, teasing me and think I wouldn’t notice?” He asked, making you hum as your grin only stretched wider. “Seemed to be working just fine, was it not?” You asked in reply, feeling as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart to allow him a place to stand between before pulling you to the edge of his desk where your hips met his. “You tell me, what do you think?” he replied, leaving you to gasp softly as you felt him pulse and twitch against your heat. “I think I have you wrapped around my little finger” you boldly claimed, your fingers walking up along his jacket before your arms looped around his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him but never fully closing the distance. “You think so?” He asked in response, making you giggle. That same smug grin rested on your lips as electricity thrummed between you, your faces mere centimeters apart, waiting to see if he would cave in. Your gaze flit to his lips with heavy lids, enjoying the mental turmoil you were putting him through as he fought caving in immediately. “You want me so bad? Come get me” you whispered, your breath ghosting across his lips as they hovered so very close to his own. He needed you in ways he couldn’t even begin to try and explain.

So he caved.

You felt his hand come to rest on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you even closer, finally closing the distance between you as his lips captured yours. The kiss was fiery, passionate and messy, a gravely groan leaving him into it. You could feel the rumble in his chest from it, paired with the way his lips danced against your own told you how long he’d been wanting this, how much he’d been needing this. Needing you. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched to your lips into it, thinking of all the ways that you could push his limits. Your hand smoothed down his chest, toying with his tie as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, an effort to push the kiss further into something more intimate. You giggled as you denied him, earning an impatient groan in response as his free hand groped your ass roughly, making you moan. The moment you did, he took his chance, his tongue exploring you as it tangled with your own in a messy clash of teeth, tongue and lips. It had you dizzy.

When he pulled back he looked you over, not caring this time if you laid witness to it or not. He took the moment to take in how your chest heaved with each labored breath, how your cheeks were flushed, lips shining with swapped saliva. “Gonna keep staring at me? Or you gonna do something about that problem of yours?” You asked with a cocky grin, making him chuckle darkly. “Oh it will be fixed, but it won’t be me fixing it” he said, yanking on your hair to pull your head back, earning a pathetic whine from you as it made you look up at him, finding yourself unable to bite back in this position. “You caused it, you fix it” he ordered, making you moan as he rolled his hips against your own, brushing his painfully hard cock against your panty clad cunt, allotting you some much needed friction and stimulation. All you could do was look up at him, excitement and anticipation filling your gaze leaving him to chuckle. “No witty come back to that? I give you the smallest taste of how good I can make you feel and you give up just like that, hmm?” He asked smuggly, making your face grow hot with defeat before he let up on his grip in your hair. “Strip” he commanded, making you stand up and work at untucking your shirt before unbuttoning it slowly. He watched as every button came undone, more of your gorgeous body was revealed to him, his eyes raking over your curves. The fabric soon dropped to the floor haphazardly next to his desk, to be forgotten about until later when it would be needed again. Next was your bra. His eyes were trained on you as he watched you unhook the backing, allowing it to slide down your arms and join your shirt in a growing pile. Your nipples had hardened from the temperature change, the exposure to the air and from the excitement coursing through you in anticipation of what was to come next. Then came your skirt, its simple button and zipper being undone allowing it to drop to the floor and pool around your feet with ease, earning a groan from him at the sight of you nearly naked before him. You hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties, working them down from your hips before they fell to your ankles, leaving you to kick them off to the side with rest of the pile. You watched with much intrigue and entertainment as he seemed to twitch with anticipation and need for you, making you giggle.

“How long has it been?” You asked curiously, a cocky grin on your lips and confidence in your tone as you looked at him, looping your arms around his neck. There it was again, your perfume, overwhelming his senses. “I beg your pardon?” He asked, brows furrowed and sending a rather defensive look your way. “How long has it been?” You asked again, watching as he looked you up and down. “Since?” He asked in reply, not seeming to understand what you were hinting at, or maybe he preferred you just spit it out. “Since you had sex. Can tell by the tension in your shoulders and the way you practically moan with every touch that it’s been a while” you pointed out playfully, making him a little angry that you managed to get beneath his surface and figure him out so well. “You best be careful of that mouth of yours. My kindness, even with you, has its limits” he responded, making you hum. “Then go ahead, be mean. I’m a big girl, I can take it” you challenged making him walk closer to you, inching you towards the edge of his desk. “You want me to be mean, do you?” He asked, the rasp of his voice lowering to a much deeper tone, a crooked smile resting on his lips. He couldn’t lie, the slight tinge of fear resting in your eyes when you felt your back hit his desk, telling you there was nowhere left to go, awakened something dark within him. Something carnal, animalistic. You looked like nothing more than helpless, vulnerable prey, and he was about to eat you alive. You couldn’t deny the predatory look in his eyes certainly worked wonders on you in return. “Don’t look so concerned…” he started, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek gently before leaning in close, leaving his lips just millimeters from yours.

“I’m about to make your day” he finished, his words mixed with the feel of his breath ghosting your lips so closely send a shiver through you in excitement.

It wasn’t long before his pants were around his ankles, thrusting his cock balls deep into your soaked cunt. Your shared panting and moans, paired with the creaking and screeching of the poor desk beneath you that had been slowly inching its way across the floor with each thrust, filled the room. Should anyone walk past his office, there would be no mistaking what was happening just behind the door. Though you supposed your moans could have likely alerted all of Zaun at this rate, with your first orgasm of the night already past you, it’d be a miracle if no one could hear you. Your head was tilted back as he drilled into you, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure as your arms looped around his neck for leverage. You watched as he looked down to the space where your bodies were connected, watching his length disappeared inside of you with ease. He couldn’t help but to notice the little white ring that rested at the base of his length from your previous orgasm as the sound of his hips smacking roughly against your ass filled the room. “Fuck! Oh gods, yes!” You moaned, making him grin. “How long has it been?” He asked, looking to you, waiting for a response from you but your pleasure-idled mind was so foggy you could hardly understand what he was asking you. “Since? Oh fuck! Right there!!” You replied the best you could, tilting your head back again, leaving your tits just inches from his face as your back arched upwards towards him. “Since someone fucked you right. Since someone made you feel this good” he finished, making you whine as his hand grabbed your jaw, squishing your cheeks as he forced you to look back up at him. The cute pout that rested on your face, occasionally morphing into ones of pleasure each time his tip bullied your cervix, had him rutting into you harder. “Never! Not ‘til you- oh!” You managed, making him chuckle as he relinquished you from his grip. “Pathetic. You put up all that fuss, do all that teasing and yet I still manage to get you right where I want you” he said through grunts of pleasure, his neatly slicked back hair slightly falling against his forehead that had a thin sheen of sweat. “Feels so good! Oh gods, Silco!” You moan pathetically, knowing he was exactly right but you didn’t care. You’d spend every night here like this with him if he made you feel this good every time.

You felt as that familiar sensation in your lower belly began to take root again as his lips captured your own in a messy but passionate kiss, your moans raising in pitch and growing closer together a clear sign that you were close. As if on que, his fingers traveled between your bodies, coming to rub your clit to give you that added bit of friction you so desperately needed. You gasped before moving your hips against his and his fingers, meeting his merciless thrusts and fucking yourself on his fingers. “You’re right where you belong. Beneath me like this, cumming on my cock as I please you like no one else ever will” he said, rubbing your clit faster to make up for the way his thrusts were beginning to lose rhythm. You were so close to finally falling over the precipice, your body feeling as if it were catching on fire as your every nerve ending lit up. His words were what sent you there. “You’re mine” he growled, biting into your shoulder as you came together, his bite sending you toppling over the edge into pure bliss, while your walls squeezed him tight, milking him of everything he’d been holding in for far too long. Your body twitched and spasmed with the intensity of your second orgasm of the night, a pleased hum leaving you as you felt him cum inside of you, throbbing repeatedly as he emptied everything into you.

You both sat there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms together, fighting to catch your breath. You watched him smooth his hair back with his hand, doing his best to get it out of his face and back to how it was originally styled, or at least the closest he could get it. You smiled as he kissed you softly, leaving you to cup his dance gently in your hands. “Are you alright?” He asked into it, checking to make sure he hadn’t overdone it and hurt you. You gave a hum then a giggle. “I feel wonderful” you said with a bubbly grin, making him chuckle as he continued to kiss you, not wishing to leave your arms or the taste of your sweet lips just yet. “Good, as do I” he replied, making you grin even wider. “Fuck yes you do” you said, playfully yet truthfully, making you both laugh. “Oh is that so? Have I ruined anyone else for you?” He asked, the hint of possessiveness in his tone as his lips traced down your neck. “You might have. Not that I care to find out, you said it yourself; this is exactly where I belong, and it’s exactly where I intend to stay” you said, your head tilted a little to grant him better access to your sensitive skin. You heard him groan next to your ear as his lips lingered upon all your most sensitive spots.

What caught you by absolute surprise was the sensation of him throbbing within you, twitching to life again from inside of you. You gave a gasp with both intrigue and excitement as he looked to you with a grin. Apparently your words had let the monster out, because stay there you would for nearly the rest of the night, getting lost in one another without a care for how sore you’d be tomorrow. It was well worth it when you were with him.

#asks #asks open #send asks #smut #arcane #arcane scenarios #arcane series #arcane smut #silco x you #silco smut #silco fanfic #silco x reader #silco arcane #arcane silco #silco #arcane fanfic #anon ask #thanks anon!

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deepdarkdelights · 3 days ago

Text

Predator (Jungkook x Reader) Part II - Prey

Pairing: Vampire Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Series: Predator Universe

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Vampire Jungkook, Obsession, Manipulation, Forced Relationships, Blood (So much of it), Fear (Copious amounts), Panic/Anxiety Attacks, Mind Games, Tormenting the MCs, Discussions about dead bodies, Jungkook and his unblinking stare, Self Injury (Non Mental Health Related), Forced Feeding, Isolation

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.

A/N: I am alive! This was entirely inspired by an ask that was sent to me so the entire reason this exists is because of the wonderful anons who have asked be about what has happened since the end of Predator and who have asked to see what a more lucid Jungkook would look like. I haven't had this much fun writing in such a long time. I'm sorry it's so short, I hope you can forgive me 💜

READ PART I - PREDATOR

_______

It was dark and quiet, the only sound being the steady, slow, drip of water hitting the dusty floorboards and the harsh chatter of your teeth as they clashed together.

You were freezing, your body trembling despite your best attempts to collect yourself. It was no use, no matter what you did you were never able to warm up anymore. You knew it wasn’t all that cold outside, but that didn’t really matter. Despite the chills that wracked your body there was a fine sheen of sweat that coated your skin.

You were unsure as to how much time had really passed since you had found yourself here. All of the days had begun to blend together like some horrible fever dream you simply couldn’t wake up from. The only constant in your life has become him.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to kill you.

What was truly likely, was that this was a side effect of his treatment of you. It was very likely that he just didn’t know how to take care of a human. And despite your incessant pleading, he had told you that he would not kill you. So really, it was his own ineptitude that had you knocking on death’s door.

Your skin felt grimey, not entirely from lack of hygiene, but from the film of blood that coated your skin. It was all over you but it mostly dominated your cheeks, lips, throat, chest, and fingers. He was not violent when he claimed his feeds, but he was not necessarily gentle either. You hadn’t looked in a mirror for quite some time, but you were certain no amount of vampire blood would be able to seal your wounds with how often they were readily reopened.

This wasn’t a life, it was a slow and painful trek to the afterlife.

Your trembling increased as the front porch creaked, he was already back. Your head lolled backwards and hit the wall behind you in defeat. You couldn’t do this again, you couldn’t give him another part of yourself - this time you were certain that it would kill you.

Every time he fed from you, there was a horrible, delightful, exhilarating rush that followed. Whatever it was that he was doing to you, it was forcing you to enjoy the very thing that was killing you. It was perverse. It was disgusting. It was addicting.

It was hard to hate him in the throes of ecstasy, there was this horrible thrill that came the second before his fangs pierced his limb of choice as you knew you would be rewarded with bliss in the moments that followed. It was easier to hate him when he wasn’t there, his lack of presence giving your mind the briefest of reprieves to remind yourself of the horrible situation you were truly in.

The distance, however, didn’t seem to allow him the same clarity. If anything, it made him grow more needy, more irritated, and more clingy.

The door creaked open, and your time to yourself disappeared. Your body shook tenfold as his presence filled the room. He still looked the same as he did the first time you had come face to face with him. His clothes were worse for wear, even more blood stained and shredded than they had been before. There was a permanent coppery scent that surrounded him, the dried blood being the prime suspect.

You were certain that you didn’t smell that much better. Although, to a vampire, you probably would smell all that more enticing.

His gaze was immediately drawn to you, your eyes locking with one another, bridging the fifteen foot gap between you. His eyes often fluctuated in vibrancy depending on how hungry he was. The days where they were near black were the most difficult for you, but today they were a bright crimson red. He had fed on someone, someone who luckily wasn’t you.

“Hello little mouse,” He greeted, his voice low and surprisingly soft, devoid of the almost manic tone you had been familiar with for the longest time.

He began to close the distance between the two of you, his gait smooth as he approached you. The way he moved was unnaturally perfect, the silent power of a predator imbued in every muscle of his body.

He wordlessly dropped a bag in your lap as he sank down to the ground beside you, his wide, red, unblinking eyes staring at you, waiting for you to make a move. No matter how much time you have spent with him, his stare was still unnerving.

It took you longer than it should have to open it, your fingers trembling beyond your control. But Jungkook was patient, he has all of the time in the world to wait.

The scent of food hit your nose, your mouth watering and your stomach growling eagerly in response. From the color of his eyes and what he had brought you, you assumed he had decided to have his fill of a hiker instead of you.

Jungkook didn’t know how to take care of a human, that much was obvious. He had, however, been keenly aware of how much blood he was draining from your body on a daily basis. You had become so weak, anything but sitting felt like a herculean task nowadays. And the lack of consistent meals was weighing heavy on your body.

You didn’t care that he was watching you eat, your mannerisms ravenous and most likely off putting. But you no longer complained when he took his fill of you, and for some reason he remained silent and returned that courtesy.

You had noticed a shift in his behavior when that other vampire had found the two of you not that long ago. He knew Jungkook, from the way they spoke it appeared he knew him very well. This other vampire, despite how he appeared more human than Jungkook, frightened you just as much. You could tell from the curl of his smile to his confident gait that he was just as bad, if not worse, as Jungkook.

You had nearly fainted on the spot when he suggested the two of them share you, you were already tapped out as it was, Jungkook had fed on you that morning. The two of them, together, would kill you for sure.

To your surprise, Jungkook had not responded enthusiastically. He responded like an animal defending its territory - baring his fangs and growling in just barely contained rage. And that reaction had set off the other vampire and before you knew it they were a blur of limbs.

They moved so fast your human eyes could barely keep up with them. You were only able to focus when one of them threw the other giving you just enough time to watch them separate before they came back together again. The sound their bodies made when they clashed together was like thunder from what you could only assume was the pure force and strength they possessed. And, much like animals, they ripped and tore into one another with their teeth and nails.

By the time the two of them had finally separated for good, it was because of how much they had injured one another. The both of them were covered in wounds oozing black blood, some of which was their own, and some belonging to the other.

The other vampire, whom you had briefly heard Jungkook address as Hoseok, was tired but still enraged.

“Are you fucking serious? All of this for what, a pathetic little human?!” He yelled, his nostrils flaring in anger. “It’s food, Jungkook! I’m your brother!”

Your body flinched out of habit at the snarl that left Jungkook.

“With the rate that you’re going you’ll kill her anyways! Why does it even matter?!”

“She’s my human,” Jungkook replied, his voice low with warning.

“This isn’t even supposed to be about her! She’s nothing! Namjoon sent me to come and find you but you know what, I think I’ll let you deal with the consequences of your actions. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for you and when that happens, you're on your own!”

He disappeared quickly after that, it was like he was there one moment and then vanished the next. Once he was gone, Jungkook’s once sturdy stance softened, his shoulders bending forward from the strain of his own weight. He was hurt, badly.

He slowly turned to look at you, the red of his eyes and his dark mop of hair just visible over the curve of his shoulder. You knew that look, it usually didn’t end well for you.

“No, no, no, Jungkook, please!” You whimpered, scrambling backwards.

But it was no use, he never listened to you anyways. He always took what he wanted, even when you had nothing left to give.

He stumbled when he moved but he quickly regained his footing, his black blood stained hands grabbing you by the shins and pulling your retreating form towards him. You fought as hard as you could but you were already weak to begin with.

“Stop it, please!” You begged, but he didn’t listen. He wrapped his arms around you, his grip too tight and utterly uncomfortable.

“Jungkook-”

“Shut up,” He grunted before yanking your head roughly to the side and sinking his teeth back into the scarred skin of your neck. The shriek that left you was borderline inhuman, the building scar tissue made the intrusion all the more painful and Jungkook was not gentle.

And he had already taken so much blood the day before. It wasn’t long before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you went limp in his iron hold.

That was the first time that Jungkook had given you vampire blood. You had almost died that day, you had gotten so close to finally being free of him and still he wouldn’t let you go. Even death wasn’t a great enough adversary for him.

When you had woken up after that attack, shocked that you managed to survive, you were met with those big, red, frightening eyes. The look on his face was the most serious you had ever seen it before, an odd clarity in his eyes that you were seeing for the first time.

He had been dreadfully quiet since then, speaking even less and shorter sentences than he normally did. You wouldn’t say he felt bad for what he did, but he had become increasingly aware of the inherent fragility that came with being human. He never apologized, but he had fed from you a lot less after that.

You froze mid bite as you felt his icy fingers graze your flesh, the coolness biting your skin and seeping into your veins. His touch was feather light, just barely there, but you went still beneath it anyways. You were incredibly aware of the strength that was concealed in that touch. He appeared unbothered by your response, his thumb smoothing over the curve of your jaw as he leaned in unbearably close.

You flinched at the feeling of cold metal being draped around your throat, his fingers clasping the material at the nape of your neck. It was a necklace. Your chest felt tighter, the food in your stomach quickly souring.

He was doing it again.

You were well aware of Jungkook’s strange and disturbing habit of taking mementos from his victims. His ears, wrists, neck, and practically every inch of his body were adorned with items he had stolen. You noticed he had an affinity for jewelry, but his jacket and boots had been taken from someone’s corpse as well. And, recently, he started bringing them back for you as well.

Your bloody fingers were littered with several rings, a bracelet on your right wrist, and your ears decorated in earrings - some of which he had pierced himself. And now, the necklace.

It left your stomach in knots when he did this, you couldn’t help but think about the bodies abandoned in the woods that he had slaughtered every time the metal glinted back at you. Each piece felt like another shackle keeping you at his side.

The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.

And so, you had become his plaything. His dinner and now his doll, a weak body that he could play with and decorate to his greatest desires whether that be with a corpse's jewelry, or a litany of scars.

“Pretty,” He said, his voice deceptively soft as he grazed the skin of your neck, his fingers moving from the clasp of the necklace to trace over the scarred imprints of his fangs and teeth.

You were thankful that he wasn’t hungry.

The odd, calm atmosphere between the two of you was quickly dissipating. Jungkook shifted away, agitation clear on his face as an annoyed growl parted his lips. You flinched back against the wall, scooting away to stay out of his path.

This wasn’t unusual - he had been having rapid mood swings lately.

The few moments of peace the two of you would share were often interrupted by the sudden pained twist of his features - his eyebrows drawing together and his nose scrunching in a snarl. It almost looked like he was in physical pain despite there being no signs of any injury.

And then, the pacing would start. It was like watching a caged lion sweep the perimeter of their enclosure. Back and forth, slow and menacing steps. It was like he was looking for something, or trying to guard the two of you from someone else. You hadn’t dared to ask what he was doing, to be entirely honest you tried your best to avoid initiating any interaction or conversation with him at all. The few times you did speak to him, it was usually to beg for him to leave you alone, pleas that often fell on deaf ears.

You didn’t know what to do with this. When you first “met” him, he had been sadistic, like a zealous child with more power than they knew what to do with. He had wanted to play his sick and twisted games with you and the plan had always been to gorge himself on your blood and leave your mangled corpse deep in the forest to wither and return to the earth. That was what was familiar to you, that was what you were expecting.

You were never supposed to live, that had been an unfortunate circumstance, a split decision he made to prolong your torture and pain. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with this suddenly quiet, confused, and barely human creature in front of you. One that would rip open your flesh to feed just as soon as he would leave bruising kisses on your lips and throat, painting the flesh a rich red that was left to rust.

You were waiting for him to snap, waiting for it to all finally be over. But that would be luck, luck that you didn’t have. He had promised you, so long ago, that you would never be alone again, that he would keep you. And you have suffered the consequences ever since.

When he said your name you felt your blood freeze over. He had never said your name before, you didn’t even know that he knew it. He had always called you that horrific pet name, his little mouse.

You wrapped your arms around your legs, pulling them into your chest in an attempt to feel some sense of security as he continued to speak.

“We’re leaving soon.” He said, the words simple but the expression on his face ever so complex. Reluctance, frustration, pain, anxiety.

You swallowed, but did not move. The silence was deafening. But, by the look on his face, you knew that he was waiting for your response. You would have to break the stalemate.

“Are you…taking me home?” You dared to ask, your heart thundering in your chest as that predatory gleam returned to those red eyes.

“No,” He growled, his jaw clenched as his fangs ground against his lower set of teeth, “You’re not going back there, ever.”

Your heart shattered.

“I’m being called back to my home.”

His home? This was the first that you were hearing of it, you never stopped to ask yourself if he had a home. You couldn’t picture it even if you tried, it was a puzzle piece that simply didn’t fit. You had always assumed he was simply a nomadic creature that moved as he hunted. And, due to his supernatural nature, it seemed that he never needed the typical human necessities and comforts such as four walls and a roof.

You knew he had some sort of family at the very least. You had, after all, had the displeasure of meeting Hoseok who had referred to himself as his brother. And he had mentioned the name Namjoon, the phrasing suggesting a hierarchical structure. But even the notion that he had a family felt just as mismatched. And how ironic it was that he was returning home to a family he didn’t even want, and he wouldn’t let you go home to the family that you missed so much.

“And that’s bad?” You hesitantly asked, flinching as he growled in frustration.

“It’s worse than bad!” He yelled, his hands sliding through his hair in stress, “It was difficult enough fending Hoseok off, but all six of them? You’re as good as dead.”

Hope.

“Then…don’t go?” You said, although it sounded more like a question. By the way he was acting, it was like returning was not a choice.

“If only it were that easy,” He laughed, the sound bordering on being unhinged. “I can’t ignore it, if I’m called I have to answer. If I don’t it becomes more and more persistent. It feels like a cord that grows tighter and tighter until it pulls and my body moves on its own and takes me back.”

That explained the pacing, the restlessness his body had been experiencing. He had been trying to redirect it by walking the perimeter of the decrepit cottage but it had been a temporary fix to the problem. You could only assume that he was getting to the point now where his body was ready to return against his will.

How horrible it was, to be someone’s unwilling puppet. You knew that feeling all too well.

You didn’t know what you were supposed to tell him. There were no choices to be made by the two of you. He would have to return, and he wouldn’t leave you here on your own as he knew you would be given the greatest opportunity you have ever had to leave him. So, he would have to take you with him right into the lion’s den where you would undoubtedly be consumed.

He was mumbling to himself now, his pacing becoming more frantic and much faster, your human eyes struggling to keep track of him. You were sure that he was moving so fast he would wear down the old floorboards beneath him and the soles of his beat up boots.

You could only assume that meant the call was becoming even stronger. Before - it was asking, now it was commanding.

You had never seen him so frantic before, those wide blood red eyes unblinking and shifting back and forth faster and faster as his thoughts raced. It was borderline demonic, like something you would see during a paranormal movie or an exorcism. It was terrifying.

You began to scoot back as far away as you could until your spine was flush with the wall behind you. You felt better with some part of you concealed from the open, but that did little to calm your racing heart and the creature that raged in front of you.

What was he so afraid of, so panicked by? You couldn’t imagine anything scaring him, not with how terrifying he was on his own. What could be so bad, so scary, that it frightened a monster? You weren't sure you wanted to find out, even if it meant you could finally feel the sweet embrace of death and escape him once and for all.

Jungkook finally came to a stop, his body still but his eyes continued to move erratically. And then they too settled, and a look of deadly calm settled over them. He had decided something, and you were certain that whatever his decision was it wouldn’t be good for you.

“They wouldn’t,” You heard him mutter to himself, “Not if I put a fail safe if place.”

A fail safe?

Before you could even blink he had moved across the room, faster than your eyes could track. Your body had been ripped away from the wall and set in between his legs, your spine pressed against his chest, the both of you seated on the ground.

An uncontrollable wail shook your body, the sound emanating a feeling of pure hopelessness. You had been surprised it came out of you, but you knew why. You were terrified he was going to feed from you again.

His one arm was wrapped around your ribs, his legs tensed and forcing your own to squeeze together. He had immobilized you, there was nowhere else you could go and no way to escape him.

Your entire body shook and heaved with hysterical breaths as you writhed in his grip. “Please, please don’t do it again I can’t take anymore of this!”

He hushed you, his free hand brushing over your hair in a surprisingly gentle manner. It was more like someone who was trying to calm a startled stray animal than anything else. His touch moved to your chin, lightly taking hold of the point where your neck and jaw bone met.

He didn’t say anything, instead he forced you to look at him, turning your face so that he could look directly into your eyes. And then, to your shock and horror, he plunged his fangs into his own wrist and ripped the flesh wide open. A torrent of thick, viscous, black blood rolled down the pale flesh of his forearm. And before you could do or say anything he grabbed you by your hair and jerked your head back before pressing his open wound to your mouth.

You gagged at the smell and taste, tears blurring your vision as you tried to move your head away but he did not budge. His arm around your ribs finally moved but only to help him pry your jaw open and force the blood flow down your throat. He continued to hush you as he forced you to drink, gently rocking your body in stark contrast to the harsh and violent hold he had you in.

“Just relax,” He whispered against the shell of your ear, “The more you struggle, the longer I’ll keep you here. We need to get as much of my blood as possible into your system.”

You were crying even harder now, the salt of your tears slipping between his wrist and your lips and mingling with his blood in your mouth. What had you ever done to deserve this? What horrible thing had you done in some past life to deserve this kind of punishment?

You just wanted to go home. You wanted your mom and dad, your grandparents, and the gentle comfort of your bed in your childhood room. You wanted that life back, and you were never going to have it again.

His harsh grip on your jaw loosened as you went limp in his arms, resigning yourself to your inescapable fate. His hand returned to those soothing strokes against your hair, a low hum in his chest vibrating against your back as he watched you feed from him with a curious gaze. You were such a weak little thing, you needed him more than you would ever understand.

You hiccupped pathetically when he finally removed his wrist from your mouth after what felt like hours. Your lips and chin were stained black from the blood he spilled when you had struggled. He stared at you again, curiosity evident in his gaze, as he leaned forward and licked the flesh of your lips, tasting his own blood.

You shivered as he made a soft hum, cocking his head to the side before doing it once more, stroking over the bitten and chapped skin with his tongue as he transitioned into kissing your battered lips in a grotesque act of intimacy. He laughed against your mouth as you weakly pushed against his chest, he was amused by your pathetic attempts to push him away. It only encouraged him to kiss you harder and deeper, sampling the taste of his own blood straight from your mouth.

Once he was satisfied he finally allowed you to breathe, a devious gleam in his eyes that you had not seen in a long time.

“They won’t be able to kill you for a while now, not unless they want another vampire to worry about.” He said. He was gloating, reveling in the win his family had no idea he had already achieved.

Your blood ran cold, your body freezing at his revelation. The very thing you craved, your own death and by association freedom from him, would be the very thing that would trap you with him for the rest of eternity. If you were killed with his blood in your system, you would become one of them. He truly had taken everything from you, even the dignity of your own death. Your life was his and his alone.

He really was a monster.

His features suddenly twisted in pain, his head jerking to the side as he released a low and threatening growl. The call was becoming even stronger, the most intense it had ever been. There was no more delaying it. They had to go, and they had to right now.

He quickly lifted you into his arms as his body began to move on its own, forcing him to begin to move in the direction of his home. There was nothing more that you could do, all you could do was remain limp in his arms. It was over, there was point in fighting anymore.

He had finally broken you.

When he stepped outside you were shocked by the fresh air and the cold weather. Then again, you always feel cold now. The clouds were thick today, the sun hidden behind their cover. It had been so long since you were outside, and even longer since you had been in the sun - that wouldn’t change in the near future. But what truly shocked you, was that the world went on without you. The seasons continued to change, the flora continued to flourish and then decay. The cycles continued while you were stored away. How cruel the world was to keep going on as you withered away.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, shielding your face from the harsh wind as he began to move faster, running at his impossibly fast pace that no human could ever wish to match. How had so much changed? When did you go from human being to a play thing for a monster like him. You had a life, but now it had become inconsequential, toyed with and thrown away like it never even mattered.

What were you supposed to do now? At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter. He had won, he had played his sadistic stupid games with you, and he had won. He had broken you. You tucked your chin into your chest and like the pathetic creature that you were you whimpered.

You cared about what was going to happen next. If Jungkook had been wrong, then the two of you walking into the proverbial lion's den would end with you turning into one of them, a fate worse than any other that you could imagine. To be tied to him for all of eternity would be your personal hell on earth.

What would they do to you when you got there? Would your death before your next life be slow and torturous, or quick and merciful? Would it be planned and intentional, or accidental?

Jungkook began to slow, his fast pace relaxing into a natural walk. The tension that previously rested in his body had begun to dissipate. You could only speculate this was the relief of obeying the command to return home. His control over his own body was slowly but surely coming back to him the closer the two of you came to his home.

He stopped for a moment, placing you down on your own two feet before he took hold of your wrist and forced you to follow after him. Your knees wobbled beneath your weight, unaccustomed to you standing after being curled up in a ball in that abandoned shack for the longest time. You looked more like a baby fawn learning to walk than you did that meek little mouse Jungkook always thought you were. He, however, paid little attention to you at that moment. He was tense, his body in a state of alert as subtly surveyed the area as you continued on.

He could sense something that your dull human senses weren’t entirely picking up on. However, the hair on the back of your neck prickled and your gut twisted as you felt phantom eyes digging into your body.

Someone, somewhere, was watching you.

A building began to break through the cluster of trees. A modern, contemporary house in the middle of the forest was coming into view. This was the last place you thought of when Jungkook had mentioned his home. In all honesty, you would have been less surprised by a crypt and a row of coffins.

In front of the house, stood a man. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his eyes that familiar shade of deep burgundy, the same shade the monster’s eyes were when he was hungry. This sent chills throughout your body, your entire being sensing the danger in the vampire that stood across from you.

Those burgundy eyes swept towards you, a look of shock and confusion discoloring their once calm gaze that you speculated was rarely rattled. His features twisted as he took in the state of you, the dried human and vampire blood that coated your body in thick layers, the dirt that was caked into your clothing, your hair that needed to be washed, and the smattering of scars that decorated your body and glistened in the cloudy daylight.

You were barely human anymore, you were a walking corpse.

“You called me home, Namjoon.” Jungkook simply said, his body moving to shield you from the other vampire's gaze.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon said, utter disbelief tinging his words, “What are you doing to her?”

In every possible scenario you had conjured in your mind, this had not been one of them.

Sympathy.

_______

#bts #bts jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #bts fanfic #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader #vampire jungkook #vampire jungkook x reader #yandere vampire #vampire bts #vampire bts x reader

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mountttmase · 1 day ago

Text

All That Matters

Note - merry (early) Christmas everyone 🩷 I’ve missed writing dad Mase and he’s just the most precious Christmas angel in this one. I hope you like it and feedback would be very much appreciated 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 6.4k

Warnings - fluff and smut

‘What’s that pout for, pretty girl?’ Mason asked as he snaked his arm around your waist. His lips pressing the most gentle kiss to your temple but you just shrugged and pursed your lips.

‘Dunno I just feel a bit meh’ you told him. Feeling a little guilty that you were ruining today a little with your mood but thankfully Mason was the only one to pick up on it and you were hoping it would stay that way.

Christmas was usually your favourite time of year. You just loved all of it and since you’d had the kids, it had only made it more special. You loved decorating the house, cooking for everyone and picking out presents that you knew the special people in your life would love more than anything and the fact Mason was also big on Christmas made it even more fun. A chance for you both to reflect on another year of your lives you’d spent together, learning and loving the other one just like always but there was something about this year where you just couldn’t get into the spirit like usual.

Right now you should have been in your element. You were at your favourite garden centre, surrounded by beautiful twinkling lights as the smell of hot chocolate and sweet treats floated through the air, all whilst the kids got more and more excited about what they were about to do. Discussing with each other their Christmas lists and what they wanted to say to the big man himself but you were more focused on the little boy who was strapped to your chest and looking up at you adorably. His tiny cheeky smile was so much like Mason’s and everytime he directed it your way you felt a wave of happiness and love flood you.

‘Well you better turn that frown upside down before Santa sees it. He might ask you to sit on his knee so he can cheer you up and I won’t be having that’ Mason suddenly butted in, his words making you roll your eyes but you knew he was only trying to make you smile and you could feel the corners of your mouth turning up automatically.

‘Will you stop it’

‘Sorry baby’ he laughed. Pulling you into his side so he could drop a kiss on your head but even his affections went making you feel much better this time. ‘Tell me what’s up’

‘It’s just…’ you trailed off. Not knowing how to vocalise your thoughts anymore just in case you sounded silly but Mason being Mason could read you and when he tipped your chin up so you could look at each other you felt a little weight lifted.

‘What baby?’

‘This is Ryley’s first time seeing Santa right?’ You started. Watching Mason's confused face as he listened on but you knew he was really trying for you.

‘Yeah?’

‘So how many more of his firsts are we gonna blitz our way through in the next month?’ You asked him but he still looked a little bewildered and confused. ‘This is the last time we’ll ever take our baby to meet Santa for the first time. The last time we’ll get to buy one of the kids a my first Christmas jumper or buy them a special bauble for the tree. I just can’t believe we’ve got here like life is going way too quickly for me’

‘Oh sweetheart’ he pouted, squeezing your side to let you know it was okay and he understood but that didn’t mean you still weren’t going to be moody about it. The pair of you had decided that once Ryley was born then that would be it for your family, no more babies so you weren’t struggling and were able to give the ones you have all the love in the world. You were most definitely still on board with your decision but as you made your way through all of Ryley’s firsts it hit you they were also your lasts.

‘Doesn’t help Ollie is basically an old man at this point and probably won’t even believe in Santa next year. Like when did he get so big?’ You asked, eyes filling with tears that you tried to sniff away but Mason knew you were upset and the sad smile on his face didn’t do much to help you feel any better.

‘You forget my love, Tilly is absolutely mental and will probably still believe in him until she’s 15 just to spite everyone else’ he whispered. Kissing your cheek as he stroked the back of Ryley’s head softly. ‘And this munchkin, well he’s basically fresh from the womb. We’ve got loads of time left with him’

‘Mason he's one in two months’

‘Who’s next?’ you suddenly heard. Looking up to see a younger girl dressed as an elf smiling at the five of you widely and you knew you had to pep yourself up a bit. Placing a hand each on Ollie and Tilly’s shoulder to push them forward a bit as you could tell they were a little apprehensive.

‘That's us guys, come on don’t be nervous. You’ve been waiting all year to see the big man’ you reassured them and your heart almost broke when Tilly reached up to hold Ollie’s hand to ease her nerves.

Ollie let Tilly speak to Santa first, the pair of them getting over their nerves a little bit and you listened intently as to what she was asking for so you could make a mental note as to what you needed to get. Doing the exact same with Ollie but just as you’d expected his list was just full of books and comics.

‘Who’s the little one then?’ Santa asked as soon as Ollie was done and you smiled as you began to undo the straps on your papoose to get him out but before you could speak Tilly was telling Santa who he was about to meet.

‘That's my baby Ryley’ she told him, making Santa laugh as you sat him on Santa's knee but you made sure you stayed close just in case he got scared. Thankfully for you Ryley was fine and seemed more curious about him than anything else. Wanting to reach out and touch his beard as he showed Santa his new trick of poking his tongue out, something you figured Tilly had taught him, so you took it upon yourself to speak on his behalf.

When it was time to go, just after you’d all had your picture taken with the main man, Santa let the kids pick a little present out from his bag. Ollie grabbed one for Ryley too but Tilly was straight over to Mason as she figured something was wrong.

‘Daddy, are you gonna sit on Santa's knee and tell him what you want?’ She asked and you nearly dropped Ryley as you tried to put him back in the papoose as you were laughing and wondering how he was going to works his way out of this one

‘Nah it’s okay baby, I’ve uh… I’ve emailed him mine and mummy’s list already’ he told her as he looked to Santa for some back up and thankfully he caught on.

‘That's true’ Santa smiled. ‘I had a look at it this morning’

‘Come on then, say thank you to Santa’ Mason smiled. Picking Tilly up and popping her on his hip as he guided Ollie out and back to the main shop. You’d promised them you’d get them a treat on the way out so you made a stop in the food hall for a gingerbread man iced to look like Santa for the two older ones before popping everyone back in the car. Passing Ryley a biscuit you’d already packed for him as gingerbread was a bit tough for him and he smiled back at you widely before tucking in.

It wasn’t a long drive home, but Mason had his hand in yours the whole time as he softly sung along to the Christmas songs on the radio. Normally you would be singing along with him but you didn’t feel like it today. Your eyes flickering in between the view outside and your mirror so that you could check up on Ryley but he was conked out already. His little chubby fingers wrapped around Tilly’s as she munched on her biscuit with her free hand and the whole scene made your heart thump in your chest.

When you got home you got Ryley in as carefully as you could so he’d stay asleep and popped him in his room for a nap. The house was unusually quiet and when you were done with Ryley so you went in search of Mason who was laid on the sofa with the tv on quietly and Nala curled up curled up at his feet.

‘Where are the others?’

‘Ollie’s reading and Tilly’s just over there’ Mason told you quietly. Nodding over to the other sofa opposite where Tilly was also fast asleep with a blanket thrown over her little body.

‘Why is she over there?’ You laughed, walking over to Mason who was holding his arms out for you and even though you knew what would happen if you laid down with him, you still went with it. Needing his comfort more than anything as you were feeling so fragile.

‘Cause she’s like a little ball of fire when she sleeps and anyway I wanted us to talk without waking her up’

‘What about?’ You asked. Trying to play dumb but just frowned at you as you nuzzled into his neck, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time that day.

‘You feeling any better?’ He asked, lips on your forehead as he stroked your back softly. You loved the way he cared so much and was so concerned about you but you still felt a bit silly and unsure as to how to vocalise your feelings.

‘A little bit’

‘You expect me to believe that?’ He whispered and you couldn’t help but giggle. No matter how much you tried to hide anything from Mason it never worked so you did your best to explain what was going on inside your head and he listened along intently. Never making you feel silly or stupid about your feelings no matter how insane you thought you sounded.

It was just a lot and you felt responsible for all of Christmas. That wasn’t because Mason didn’t help, there was only so much he could do with his busy schedule and you knew anytime you did need help he’d be there but you wanted to make sure everyone had a good time. That on top of trying to make Ryleys first Christmas a memorable one was causing everything to crumble around you.

‘Do you remember your first Christmas?’ He asked after you were done ranting. Stroking your jaw gently as he looked at you but as much as you tried to think your mind was blank.

‘No’

‘I don’t remember mine either, pretty sure Ollie doesn’t and Tilly doesn’t remember what happened yesterday half the time’ he joked making you chuckle as you nuzzled into him. You knew he was right, there was no need to be so stressed as Ryley was still so little and wouldn’t remember it anyway but you still wanted to make it a special time for everyone no matter how down you were feeling.

You had to stop talking eventually when Tilly woke up and saw the pair of you having a cuddle without her. To say she wasn’t best pleased was an understatement and you tried to hold in your giggles as she sleepily stomped over to you and demanded to join. Mason was right though, she felt like a human radiator and you could feel yourself overheating but you didnt move. Now Ryley was here it wasn’t often you got time like this with just your baby girl so you held her just as tight as Mason was holding the both of you.

As the weeks flew by, you made it through all of Ryley’s firsts just like you thought you would. Finding the perfect my first Christmas jumper for him, letting him choose his special bauble for the tree by holding two up and getting him the one he reached for. You’d taken him Christmas shopping which was so busy and hectic you’d vowed to do the rest online but you had managed to pick him up his first stocking with a big R embroidered on the front.

Shopping online was pretty easy in the end and you managed to get most things without needing to go to an actual shop. It was a week before Christmas though when you were double checking everyone’s lists and you knew you were missing something.

It wasn’t something Tilly had written down on her list to send to Santa but something she’d asked for when she’d seen him. Telling you later on that day that she’d done that to see if he was actually listening and would bring for her and now you felt like you were about to ruin the idea of Santa for her forever.

It was a singing Olaf toy from Frozen. The new it toy apparently and everywhere you looked it was sold out. All the big toy stores, the little ones too and even the independent ones near you said they would be out until the new year and you cursed yourself for not remembering and getting it sooner. It was just another thing that had fallen to the back of the queue after everything else that had occupied your brain and when you told Mason later that night he told you not to worry and to leave it with him to fix. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that but you trusted him and left him to it.

Next on the list of forgotten things was the Christmas food shop, remembering the next night that you should probably get it all in the basket and checked out before it was too late and once Mason was putting all the to kids bed you sat in the kitchen and got to work.

‘You okay in here gorgeous?’ You heard, looking up to see Mason had popped his head around the doorway and you sent him a soft smile. ‘Kids are all in bed’

‘Thanks baby’ you uttered. Rubbing the heels of your hands into your eyes to try and wipe away some of the tiredness you felt but before long you felt Mason's hands on your shoulders as he tried to work out some of the knots that had formed.

‘You alright?’ He whispered. Dropping a kiss to your head as his fingers worked their magic and you had to stop yourself from groaning in pleasure.

‘I’m okay, just doing the Christmas food shop and trying not to forget anything’ you chuckled. Pulling out the chair next to you so he could take a seat as you talked him through everything you’d picked and thankfully you had everything. You had both agreed you’d do it online this year as there wasn’t much time to go to the shops and the thought of trying to get everything with the kids in tow filled you with nightmares. Thankfully they said they had slots available at such short notice and once Mason had gone through everything you only had to add in a few extra bits that he wanted. When you came to check out you though you felt deflated once more and Mason was eyeing you curiosity. ‘I don’t believe it, there’s no good bloody slots available. 4pm on Christmas Eve is the last one’

‘That’s okay baby, it’ll still get here on time’ he reassured you. Kissing your temple softly as he could see you were getting stressed again and with a big huff you paid for your order even with the delayed delivery as you didn’t really have any other options.

‘Sorry I feel so unorganised this year, feels like it’s all going wrong’ you laughed as you shut the laptop down. Mason was pulling you into his chest immediately after though and you felt yourself relax in his embrace.

‘Don’t worry, it’s fine. Nothing will go wrong as long as we’re all together, yeah?’ He reassured you and even though you nodded you couldn’t say you were completely agreeing with him right now. ‘Can I help with anything? Maybe I could start on some wrapping?’

‘It’s late Mase, don’t you wanna go to sleep?’

‘Nah, let’s blast some of this out and then we can head up. We’ll feel better when we’ve got a bit done’ he reassured you and you spent the next half an hour wrapping up a big chunk of presents so you made sure to give Mason a big kiss to say thank you as knowing that part was taken care of had lightened your load a little bit.

It was 4pm on the dot on Christmas Eve when the food shop turned up. Not exactly the best time but you left the kids and Nala in the living room with a movie on and some snacks whilst you and Mason got to work bringing it in but Mason got stuck talking to the driver who turned out to be a United fan in the end so you got started putting everything away.

You knew something was wrong as soon as you started unpacking the bags. Some of the stuff was what you’d ordered yet a few things weren’t and when you got to the most important part you could have torn your hair out.

‘Sorry love, thought I’d do my good deed and have a chat with him. You getting on alright?’ he laughed as he walked into the kitchen but you were facing away from him so he couldn’t see how upset you were at first. It only took a small, barely audible sniff from you to grab his attention and within a nanosecond he was crossing the kitchen and gently cupping your jaw to look at you. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

‘It’s all wrong, they’ve swapped a load of stuff out and we haven’t got half the things I need’ you gulped. Tears slowly falling down your cheeks as everything finally got the better of you. This Christmas had been overwhelming to say the least but you’d tried to put on a brave face through it all. This was the straw that broke the camel's back though and as Mason pulled you into his chest you sobbed as quietly as you could.

‘Come on baby, surely it’s not that bad’ he told you lightly. Swaying you from side to side as he kissed your head but in your mind this was a disaster. ‘Sit up here and tell me what’s wrong’ he told you, pulling away so he could pop you up on the island counter and once he was settled in between your legs you began to list everything off.

‘They’ve sent the wrong stuffing mix, that dessert you wanted they’ve swapped for something completely different, all the veg looks weird and they’ve sent us millions of potatoes’

‘That doesn’t sound so bad, I’m not really meant to have too many sweets so maybe it’s a blessing in disguise’

‘We don’t have a turkey’ you pouted. Your eyes welling up again as both looked over to the big plastic wrapped bird sat a few feet away from you on the counter and a questioning look settled over Masons features.

‘What’s that then?’

‘It’s just a really big chicken’ you sobbed. Hands covering your face as you began to cry even harder than before and you knew that you looked completely ridiculous crying over a chicken. Mason pulling you back to his chest and you could feel him trying to hold in the laughs as he rubbed your back.

‘Baby come on, you’re alright’ he whispered but unfortunately his words did nothing to calm you like they normally did and you carried on sobbing until he pulled away and held your jaw so he could wipe your eyes. ‘Hey hey hey, look at me’ he whispered. ‘I couldn’t care if it was a turkey or a flying fucking pig okay? As long as tomorrow I’m sitting round the table with you and the kids, that’s all that matters yeah? Christmas is about being together not what’s on our plates’ he told you with a smile and you knew he thought you were completely ridiculous.

‘I just feel like a rubbish mum’ you sniffed and the look of hurt that flashed across his face made your heart hurt.

‘Please don’t say that he pouted. ‘You’re the best mummy in the world I promise. You’ve worked so hard for all of this for us and you know me and the kids appreciate everything’ he reassured you before a tiny smile tugged at his lips again. ‘You know what? I hate turkey, It’s dry as fuck. As for the kids, I don’t think they’ll even realise okay? You don’t have to get upset about it’

‘Are you sure?’ you sniffed. His words lifting you slightly when he nodded back at you. ‘I knew I should have got one the other day. It’s too late to go and get anything now and they’ll be sold out anyway’

‘Right well let’s sort this all out and make a plan, yeah?’ He smiled. Tapping your thigh before popping a sweet kiss to your lips and you couldn't believe how lucky you were to have him.

It didn’t take that long for you to work everything out. Going through the list of the swaps and whilst it was inconvenient, Mason made you see things would just have to be a little different this year and that it was fine. That maybe some of them could be new traditions for your family and that you still had all the main bits you were just making this year more memorable with a few changes.

‘I’m sorry for getting so upset’ you sighed once everything was away and you had more of a plan for tomorrow. Wrapping your arm around his waist before he pulled you into a cuddle and the warmth of his body relaxed you like nothing else.

‘You’re upset because you care and that’s exactly what I love about you, okay?’ He told you softly. Kissing the top of your head as he stroked up and down your back. ‘Now come on, we can catch the rest of the film before we put the kids to bed’

Even after you told them all they had to to have an early night and that Santa would only come if they were asleep you could tell it wasn’t going to be an easy night for you. The eldest two were excited beyond belief and even though Ryley was so small it was like he could feel the change in the air and was just happy to join in. Crawling around on the floor with Nala so he could follow Ollie who was pretending to run away slowly and all three of them found it hilarious. Tilly in hysterics as she giggled away but little did you know it would be Mason that would make it all worse. Tickling her tummy until she was laughing through her tears and you knew it was about to be a long night.

It was chaos, but you loved your little family so much and it made your heart happy to see how excited everyone was and how the kids were none the wiser to your mixed up emotions this year. There was so much love in this room and you couldn't take your eyes off of Mason as all the kids piled in on him. He was right, just like usual, and as long as you were all together tomorrow then you’d be fine.

You managed to regain a little bit of control when you told them it was time to put snacks out for Santa. Mason telling them they should put a brownie and a hot chocolate out instead as he bet Santa was sick of mince pies and milk but you knew it was just because he didn’t want another one and would prefer something chocolatey. Ollie wouldn’t have it though and told him that he wasn’t risking Santa not stopping by because they’d put the wrong snacks out and you made a deal that you’d eat the mince pie if he drunk the milk and took a bite out of the carrot.

Once you knew they were all asleep you got to work arranging all the gifts in their own little sections before placing some under the tree. You could tell you were both exhausted though so you did what you could before traipsing back upstairs and collapsing into bed. Not bothering to set an alarm as you knew the kids would be waking you up early anyway but to your surprise it was Mason that woke you up before anyone else. His hands lightly massaging your waist as he kissed your neck from behind and you were hoping he might let you have a little bit of well needed stress relief after the last few weeks.

‘Merry Christmas, beautiful’ he whispered into your neck. The sound making your skin tingle as you could tell my the tone of it that he was after the same thing you were craving.

‘Merry Christmas, Mase’

‘If my calculations are correct, we’ve got about 15 minutes before the kids come looking for us’ he whispered lowly and the sound made you shiver.

‘Oh really?’

‘Mhmmm. You gonna let me give you an early gift?’ He whispered and if you weren’t so turned on you would have found it strange how you were so in tune with each other. That didn’t mean you couldn’t tease him a little bit though.

‘I’m not sure, Mase. Have we got time?’ You asked innocently whilst rubbing your behind all over his lap and you knew you were having the desired effect as he gripped your waist tightly.

‘Don’t doubt me’ he whispered, a smile evident in his voice. ‘Just stay there baby, let me take care of you’ he told you but you felt his warmth leave you almost immediately. Hearing him moving around behind you but when you saw his boxers fly over the top of you and drop to the floor you knew what he’d done. Giggling as you felt his body heat return and when his lips touched your neck you moaned quietly.

Even though Mason had gone to the effort of undressing himself, clearly he was too impatient to wait until you were also undressed because you felt his fingers push your shorts down slightly and your underwear to the side shortly after. His fingers dragging up and down you deliciously until he popped them in his mouth and got back to work.

As much as you loved it when he was teasing you like this, you also knew you didn’t have that much time and you wanted to feel him properly so you started to buck your hips back into him a little more in hopes he’d get the message and thankfully he did. Feeling him shuffle a bit after a second or two before gripping himself and guiding his way inside you as carefully as he could.

You felt yourself melt into the sheets as soon as he was inside of you. Feeling him drag in and out of you deliciously as the familiar thickness of him made you shiver once more. No matter how many times you were in this position it felt better than the last but you knew where you were and the possibility that little ears might be able to hear you soon so you covered your mouth and did your best to keep quiet.

‘Don’t be shy baby, I wanna hear you’ Mason murmured in your ear. His voice strained as he lost himself in you and clearly you had to remind him why you couldn’t let loose.

‘’Remember where we are’ you chuckled, feeling him sigh into your neck before he began to pull out but within a flash he’d pulled you onto your back and was pushing inside you again. His lips on yours to silence any moans the pair of you were making and as much as you were in your element you could tell he was holding back a bit now. ‘Masey, please’

‘What is it, baby?’

‘M-more please’ you breathed. Wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him close and the little chuckle that fell from his lips excited you.

You werent went quite sure what he was doing, but he moved all of his weight over to one side so he could lean on one arm. His free hand now moving its way up your body until he reached your neck and the slight squeeze made you groan in delight as his hips began to snap back and forth quicker.

‘That’s it, that what you wanted?’ He cooed in your ear. The soft sound of his voice a stark contrast to how he was treating you right now but you couldn’t get enough. You loved it when he was a little rough with you like this and you could feel your thighs tingle in pleasure.

‘Mhmmm’ you moaned, letting him capture your lips once more to silence you.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he breathed into your mouth and before you knew it, it was getting too much for him. Ducking his head into your neck as you threaded your fingers through his hair so you could pull on it slightly just how he liked.

It was the wet kisses he was pressing into your neck that finally tipped you over the edge. Moaning into his shoulder as he quickened his pace but he was finished just after you and the little giggle that left his lips warmed your heart.

You’d barely caught your breath before you heard the footsteps running down the hall and Mason stiffened in your arms. Immediately knowing he was completely bare under the covers and if Tilly was up to her usual then this wouldn’t end well.

‘Fuck, what am I gonna-‘

‘Just lay down it’s fine’ you giggled as Tilly burst into your room. Running straight over and into your arms and you tried to hold in your laughs at how awkward Mason was being but it was hard when Tilly was so excited.

‘Santas been!’

‘Has he?’ You beamed, watching her excitedly roll off the bed so she could run over to Mason behind you but before she could, she managed to pick up Mason's discarded underwear off the floor and pop them on her head like a hat. Clearly too overcome with excitement to even think about what she was doing but Mason was mortified as he watched her run around your room in the black Calvin’s he was previously wearing not too long ago.

‘Tilly baby’ you giggled, jumping up so you could take them off of her head before flinging them back to Mason and he caught them before stuffing them under the covers. ‘How about we go and get Ollie so we can see what Santa left us and daddy can go and wake Ryley up?’ You told her. Taking her hand and walking her out of your room as you shot Mason a look over your shoulder, just in time to watch him blowing you a kiss.

Ollie was already awake which made things easier and you were only waiting for a few minutes for Mason and Ryley to make an appearance. Ryley still sleeping soundly by the looks of things as his little face was nuzzled into Masons neck so they both sat in the arm chair and you all let Ryley wake up a little bit more. Nala coming to join you moments later and she seemed confused as to why you were all up and awake but she sat herself by Mason and watched what was going on intently.

The eldest two were chomping at the bit to get started so you let them go. Helping them pick the right presents for the right person and clearing up slightly after them as they went but you loved watching them get excited with each new gift and the noise had Ryley interested so Mason came to join you with him for a bit so he could get involved.

The kids were most of the way through the presents and you knew Mason hadn’t been able to get the toy Tilly so desperately wanted. She was clearly excited and happy about everything she’d received but you knew she was looking for it and with each present opened her hope was waning.

Mason told you he’d sorted it and you didn’t know if he was hiding it somewhere for an extra special surprise but when you gave him a nervous glance he just winked at you before searching under the tree.

‘Oh wow, Tilly have you seen this?’ Mason asked as he sat back up and when you looked over he was holding a thick white envelope with her name perfectly inscribed on the front. ‘What does that say baby?’

‘Tilly’ she smiled, pointing at herself as it was one of the few words she could read and Mason nodded at her proudly.

‘That's right, it’s for you’ he told her, passing it over. ‘Why don’t you open it and maybe mummy will read it to you?’

You watched her scurry over. Passing you the official looking envelope that you quickly tore into quickly before opening up a typed up letter on some Santa stationery and you sat her on your knee so you could read it together.

‘Oh wow Tilly, a letter from the big man himself?’ Mason smiled and you knew she was beaming back at him. ‘Thats huge’

‘Santa mummy’ she squeaked. Your heart melting at the effort Mason had gone to to keep his little girl happy.

‘I know baby. That’s nice of him isn’t it, and you can wait can’t you?’

‘I can wait’ she nodded, holding her letter like it was the most important thing she’s ever received.

‘Good girl’

‘Ollie look’ she shouted. Jumping down from next to you so she could show him her letter and he seemed impressed by what he was seeing.

Mason was coming over to sit with you soon after with Ryley cradled in his arms and a few unopened gifts for you to open with him. Letting Ryley tear the paper as best as he could after you’d started him off to reveal a few new soft toys and some things to chew on but soon enough Ollie needed help trying to set up a new game he’d been gifted. Mason handed Ryley over so you could cuddle up together and give him his morning feed in peace, knowing you needed a few moments alone with your boy before the chaos of the day took over. Mason also hadn't gotten involved too much this morning as he sat with Ryley and you knew he wanted to spend some time playing with the kids.

‘Merry Christmas little man’ you whispered. Stroking his head gently as he looked up at you and you felt so full of love you wanted to squish him. His little hand stroking Nala next to him and you knew it was a comfort thing to have her close by when he was having a feed. ‘You probably won’t remember any of this but it’s all a little messed up this year. I’ll make sure it’s all fixed for next year though, and you can join in a little bit more, yeah?’ You told him. Hoping he understood what you meant somehow but even if he didn’t you were still excited for what the day held.

One of the big gifts you’d bought Ryley was a walker and whilst the kids were occupied with looking at their gifts, Mason put it together as you made the pair of you a coffee. Popping him in it after it was done so he could get a feel for it and soon enough he was walking around and crashing into everything. Your bright idea now seeming like a nightmare as he tried to run from room to room and bounce off the walls but Mason thought it was hilarious and was following after him to try and record Ryley on his little rampage.

‘Thank you, Mase’ you told him as he came into the kitchen to get his coffee you’d made him but he stopped in his tracks at your words.

‘What for?’ He asked curiously. Placing his hands around your waist as he pulled you to his body and you couldn’t resist reaching up and kissing him softly. This morning had been crazy but it was the first time in a while you hadn’t felt so rubbish about everything and you knew it was him you had to thank for that.

‘For talking me down everytime I’ve wanted to have a hissy fit these last months’ you smiled. ‘And for reminding me that Christmas is about us just being together’

‘I’ll tell you everyday if you need me to, you know that right?’ He whispered, pecking your lips softly once more. ‘I mean it, everything that’s good about our family comes from you and I’d never want you to think what you do for us isn’t good enough when my life with you is more than I could have ever asked for’

‘Masey’ you pouted. Your eyes filling up for a whole different reason and when he softly placed a kiss on your nose you couldn’t help but let them spill over.

‘Hey, no tears on Christmas’ he winked, wiping your cheeks. ‘I mean it though, you’re the best mum and wife and friend I could have ever asked for and we love you so much’

‘I love you too’

‘Are you ready to see what Santa got you now the kids have had their gifts?’ He asked, hoping a change of subject would cheer you up a bit and it worked as you were itching to see what gift he’d pulled out of the bag for you this year.

‘Yes please’ you giggled. Letting him take you hand and walk you back into the chaos that was Christmas morning in the Mount household.

212 notes · View notes

zepskies · 23 hours ago

Text

Merry Christmas Eve Eve!!!!!! 🥳❄️❄️

It's my favorite holiday for sure! And thanks for this little gift you've given me, Wayne. 😘❤️💚

Ooooh, snappy 😆 I've been diving into the books a bit and I do think they still have some tough things to talk out. The show's making it look way too easy lol

Ok more and more you're making me want to dive into the actual books!! It's true, the show really did shoulder through that pretty quickly lol.

But I loved all the kindergarten teasing and bantering between them. Such a fun moment! 🤍

Aw thank you!! 💜💜 I had a lot of fun creating the sibling banter moments between Russell and Colter, whether it was light and teasing or tense and angsty.

Read this fully in Bobby's voice. You totally nailed his cadence too! You're killing it here, Alex!! 👏👏

Omg thank youuu! I watched some episodes over again to try and get Bobby's voice right, even in this small moment. 🥰🥰

Ahaha knew it! Right on time too 😂 He really cares for her a lot after such a short amount of time already 🥹❤️

He really does. 🥹 I really tried my best to show that they do have this connection that's special (and worth not letting go of?), despite only knowing each other for a short time. 💕

You're a hopeless romantic. You wouldn't do this to me, right? Right, Alex???? 😭

They do share similarities 🤣🤣

Lmfaoo right?!! And not just because they're both actually "Justin."

(They could actually be bros, like what? 🤣)

I do love how resourceful he always is 🤓👏

See, that for me was actually the challenge narratively. Writing Colter and his intelligence believably, since of course, I'm not the brilliant author of the actual books. 😅😅 But I hope I faked it well enough in this story! lol

Like the reader, I'm not surprised but was hoping it wouldn't be this bad. Geez, Charlie, you call this getting your shit together? 🙄

Oh, Charlie's a ridiculous hot mess lmaoo. He's not doing himself any favors, even when he tries to "fix it."

Why? No, not the woods!! 😂 (Being lost in a forest is one of my worst nightmares lol)

Ya know, I totally get that. 😂 I don't live near forests, but I'm pretty sure Colter would have to come find my ass after 1 hour alone out there in the wilderness.

Russell's dark side is doing things to me... 🫠🫠

Ooof, why do I love a rugged, dangerous but protective man so much?

Figured something like this happened. I do feel for him, though. It's called addiction for a reason ❤️‍🩹 His argument for stealing was hilarious, however. Like, boo, really? Don't pretend you care about the Native Americans now. I think he knows his sister too well and figured this might work 😂

Oooh yeah. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 It's certainly not cut and dry.

Oh, you're totally valid for calling Charlie out like that lmaooo. Even the reader is calling him out on his BS. 😂 The way he tries to get "noble" about those Native American artifacts isn't fooling anybody.

You did it, too!!!! The "I love you" goodbye!! 🤣

Omggg you really caught me! 🤣🤣 What can I say, it's the perfect dramatic moment. 😏

Anything can happen from here, and I so hope you enjoy the rest of the ride down the cliffhanger!! 😘💕

Every Second Counts - Part 3

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him.

AN: *Deep breaths* Are you ready? 😉

Word Count: 4.4K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Russell, perilous situations, violence, character death, and another (literal) cliffhanger…

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 3: "Timer Starts Now"

As he drove away from the museum, Colter could see it even more clearly.

“You like her,” he said, giving his older brother a smile.

Russell glanced at him, then rolled his eyes.

“Focus on the road,” he said.

“Just admit it. You like her,” Colter smirked. “And the fact that she called you for help isn’t a coincidence.”

Russell made a sound of annoyance and shook his head. At this point, he knew Colter wasn’t going to drop the subject.

“All right, we went out on one date,” Russell held up a finger. “It was fun, but we agreed that I’m just not relationship material.”

Colter sobered at that, at the wry tone of his voice. It sounded like Russell liked you even more than he was willing to admit.

“Do you have a timeline on that brewery?” Colter asked.

Russell chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m just a few dollars short on that one.”

He stared out the window for a while, but he eventually turned back to his brother.

“She called me because her brother’s a vet. Because I know what it’s like to deal with the assimilation process, coming back to civilian life. Trying to figure out where you belong, you know?” he said.

“You think you’ve assimilated?” Colter asked.

Russell shrugged. “Best I know how, anyway.”

“You can’t really call yourself a civilian though, can you?” Colter pointed out.

Russell shot him a look. “Yeah well, neither can you, Colt.”

That created a kind of tension in the car. A call from Bobby, Colter’s analyst, mercifully broke the silence. He’d gotten some useful information on Eddie Mendez, the man Charlie was supposedly working with, or for.

“Well, he’s not the most upstanding citizen,” Bobby said. “He’s a cocaine dealer by trade. Other fun items on his rap sheet include illegal gun possession, theft, and domestic violence.”

“All right, thanks, Bobby,” Colter said.

Great, Russell shook his head. Just what had your brother gotten himself into?

They were getting closer to the bar, and it mentally brought him back to his date with you.

Okay, maybe he did like you. But he also respected and understood your reasons for cutting things short that night. Usually, he was okay with being in a new town every other week, the occasional one-night stands, the skeevy motel rooms and the fast food. It was all with a goal in mind, and that made the hustle easier.

He’d started to wonder though, what it would be like to set down roots somewhere. Doug made it work with his wife and still did his contract work, even if there were some major pros and cons to that too…

Russell was only broken out of his thoughts when he got a call himself, from Dory. He answered it and held the phone to his ear.

“Hey, D. What’s up?” he asked.

“Russell, something’s wrong,” she said. Her voice was panicked.

He frowned, his brows furrowing. “What? What happened?”

The more he listened, the more his eyes widened in shock. He looked to his brother.

“Colter, turn around. Now.”

Russell and Colter arrived back at your house, where Dory was parked out front. She came out of the safety of her car when she saw them. Russell got to her first. He laid a hand on her shoulder in the driveway.

“What happened?” he asked.

She tearfully explained that she found your purse in the bushes, but your phone was missing. She had just picked up your call when it suddenly cut off.

“But I heard her scream,” Dory said, with a stifled breath.

Russell’s mood darkened in response, and the longer he took in the scene. He looked over at Colter, who also wore a frown.

The tracker examined your car and driveway first. Already he found signs of struggle. He noticed a couple pieces of dark glass on the pavement, and when he scrutinized his surroundings further, he picked your broken phone out of the grass. The screen was cracked beyond repair.

Next, he climbed the three short steps of the porch, up to the front door of the house. There were marks on the doorknob, likely scratched by a key. He spotted the Ring Camera next.

Good. He took it right off the wall.

“Do you have her keys there?” he asked his sister. Dory handed them to him and he let himself in. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

The three of them entered your house and found it dark and empty. Colter switched the lights on and got to work, after going back to grab his laptop from the car.

Russell stayed with his sister on the couch, a supportive hand on her back. He tried to shove his anger and upset deeper below the surface.

Meanwhile, Colter had Bobby retrieve the data from the camera. Within a few minutes, he sent Colter a video file, which Colter then played on his laptop. The three of them watched you approach the door.

Someone with a man’s build grabbed you from behind, wearing dark clothes and a mask that obscured his face. You screamed and tried to fight, but the man dragged you away as you struggled.

Russell’s frown deepened as his body tensed with anger again, his jaw ticking as it clenched. And then came the self-loathing.

Rookie fucking move. Should’ve made sure she got home safe, he thought. Better yet, should’ve kept her with me.

Dory covered her trembling mouth and dissolved into tears. Russell tucked her against his side, rubbing her arm. Colter laid a hand on her shoulder as well, but he continued to analyze the footage. He couldn’t make out the attacker’s face with the mask he was wearing, but Colter saw a blue sedan in the background. It peeled off after you were hauled off-screen.

“Why would they take her? What the hell is Charlie into?” Dory said. She sniffled and wiped at her face.

“To keep her quiet after she started digging into his disappearance, possibly. Or for leverage against him,” Colter said, leveling her with honesty. “Someone doesn’t want us to find Charlie. I’m betting it’s whoever he’s working for.”

He thought it was safer if he didn’t tell his sister exactly who Charlie’s employer was.

Dory shook her head in worry. “We need to call the police.”

Colter shared a grim look with his brother. He knew Russell understood the score here.

“If we get the police involved, it’s at least a 50% chance that whoever has her and Charlie…will kill both of them,” Colter said. Dory sucked in a trembling breath.

“Our best bet is to keep digging,” Colter said.

“Let’s go,” Russell said, nodding at him. He stood, parting from his sister with a hand squeezing her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Dory asked. She got up to her feet along with her brothers.

“Howley’s. It’s our only lead on Charlie’s employer,” Colter replied.

“Okay, but wait—” Dory reached out for Russell’s arm. It was a reflex as she tried to wrap her mind around all of this.

Russell grasped her shoulders gently enough, but he made sure she saw the sense of urgency in his eyes.

“We don’t have time,” he said. “From here on out, every second counts.”

After a beat, Dory nodded in acceptance. She let go of his jacket.

“Okay, keep me updated.”

“Will do,” he said, and he swiftly followed Colter out the door.

The brothers drove in silence to the bar. Colter noted his brother’s tension, and the grim set to his jaw.

“Hey,” Colter said, earning Russell’s attention. Colter gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her. We’ll find both of them.”

Russell exhaled. “Yeah.”

Oh, he knew he’d find you eventually, and your brother. He just didn’t want to think about how he might find you.

Once they got back to Howley’s, they started by questioning the bartender about Eddie Mendez.

“He’s not here. But that’s a couple of his friends over there,” the bartender said. He pointed them in the direction of a couple of guys drinking near the back. Three of them were sitting at a table playing cards.

Russell recognized two of them. One was the same guy who made the mistake of hassling you by the pool table. He’d gotten a bloody nose for his trouble. Russell smirked at the memory.

“Pete, make a fucking move already,” said one of the guy’s buddies.

Russell caught it as he and Colter approached them. This time, Pete seemed at least somewhat sober, even with his second beer in hand. Another bottle sat empty beside his arm.

“Hey, fellas,” Russell greeted the table. “Little Blackjack, little booze. Looks like a good night you’re having.”

“Do I know you?” Pete asked. His face showed a spark of recognition when he took in Russell.

“Well, you’re about to. We’re looking for one of your friends, Eddie,” he replied.

Pete set his beer down on the table. Predictably, he crossed his arms and closed up.

“I don’t know no Eddie.”

Russell resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I realize it’s hard for you, but don’t be dumb. Eddie Mendez,” he pressed.

Pete glanced at his friends, then he stood from the table, drawing himself to his full height. He was a bit bigger than Russell, but a beer gut wasn’t everything.

Russell seized up the man in front of him with an almost lazy grin. By contrast, his eyes were sharp, betraying his true thoughts.

“Now remember. Whatever you start, I’m gonna damn well finish,” he said.

That sure ignited Pete’s memory. He seemed to be remembering your smaller fist nearly breaking his nose. His face fell with an angry frown. Russell smirked.

Colter laid a warning hand on his brother’s arm.

“We’re not looking for trouble. We’re just trying to find someone Eddie might know. Charlie,” Colter said. “Do you know him?”

“No, I don’t,” Pete claimed.

“Like you didn’t know Eddie?” Colter replied, raising a brow. “Where can we find him?”

“Now you are looking for trouble,” Pete spat. “Fuck off, Timberlake.”

Just then, Colter’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a text from Dory, asking for an update. He ignored the message for now and put his phone away.

Hearing a commotion, he quickly looked up in time to realize that Russell had wrangled Pete into a stronghold with his arm behind his back and had slammed him onto the table. Drinks and bottles rattled and spilled; playing cards fell to the floor. Pete’s friends got up with angry, threatening gaits.

“I think you can point us in the right direction before I break this meaty arm of yours. How about that?” Russell said.

“Hey! No fighting!” the bartender called from the front. “Take that shit outside.”

Colter internally sighed, but he’d have to roll with this, even though this wasn’t how he’d wanted to play it.

“I wouldn’t test him,” Colter advised. “That’s gonna be a bad break. You got good health insurance, Pete? You’ll probably need surgery, expensive bills, a little physical therapy, a few months of recovery time.”

Pete seemed to weigh Colter’s logic, albeit with an angry huff. He waved off his friends and caught his breath while pinned against the table.

“I can’t talk to you,” he said. “I’ll get myself killed.”

“I’d worry more about your odds right now, Pete,” Russell said. He tightened his twisted hold on the man’s arm, earning a strangled sound of pain.

Colter weighed the options here in record time, and he came to a decision. He grasped Russell’s arm firmly.

“Let him go,” he said.

Russell gave him a look of disbelief. “Colt?”

Colter implored him with his eyes. Trust me.

After a few more seconds, Russell’s lips pursed, but he let the guy go.

“Ah, fuck,” Pete muttered. After he was able to straighten up, he rubbed his aching arm and shot them both a red-faced glare.

Colter steered his brother out of the bar before a real fight could break out. He knew it’d become a bloody mess, and they didn’t have time for a night stay in a county jail cell this time.

“You better have a damn plan,” Russell whispered, as they neared the front doors of the bar.

“You know I do,” Colter replied.

They later sat in his truck while it was still turned off. Just waiting in silence.

A few minutes went by before the back doors of the bar opened to Pete and his gaggle of delinquent friends. As Colter suspected, one of them made a call. It lasted no more than a couple of minutes. Then, they piled into Pete’s car and pulled out of the parking lot.

Colter started up his own car, and he followed them.

You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.

Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement.

“No…”

That voice was all too familiar.

The bag was finally ripped off your head, the edge of it catching in your frizzy hair. You blinked wearily at the florescent lights above, and you wiped at your tears and smudged mascara. Your breath left your lungs when you saw your brother, Charlie.

He was tied to a chair, shirtless and shoeless, beaten and bloody. Some parts of his skin even looked burned. His jeans remained, at least. But his face was hard to look at. His left eye was swollen, his lip split, his cheek cut and bloody. Both his eyes were red-rimmed, and he was sweaty and dirty, as if they’d been keeping him down here like an animal. He looked thinner too.

He stared back at you in dismay, your name falling from his lips.

You tried to scramble over to him, but someone grabbed you by the hair and yanked you back. You cried out in pain.

“Eddie stop! Don’t hurt her!” he shouted. He drew enough strength to pull at his restraints. Your hands reached back on reflex to grasp at the hand holding your hair.

“No, you did this,” Eddie said. He clicked the safety off his handgun and pointed the barrel at your head, right between the eyes. You gasped and froze where you sat.

“You couldn’t make it easy, huh? Well now, I’m making it real simple for you,” he continued. “Even more simple, now that we cut out the middleman.”

Eddie gestured to what looked like a woven potato sack laid behind Charlie’s chair, but really, that was just part of it. As your eyes scanned over, you saw the narrow shoulders of a man with a familiar dark blue blazer. It was stained red with a bloody hole carved through the back. Your breath stilled in your lungs.

Eddie glanced over at you, his lips curving. He walked over to the dead body, turned it over with his boot, and dragged off the potato sack to reveal the lifeless blue eyes of Dr. Feinman.

Your eyes widened.

You let out a blood-curdling scream that startled a pigeon out of the warehouse, from where it had been perching on a high support ledge. You leaned back on your bound hands, but you could go no further as one of Eddie’s men grabbed your shoulder, pinning you on the ground. His annoyed face told you to shut the fuck up.

Charlie grimaced and turned his face from the sight of the body. Both shame and hate filled his eyes when Eddie bent down to face him.

“Tell me where you hid the goddamn weapons,” he demanded.

Your lips trembled as new tears brimmed over and streamed down your cheeks. You’d suspected the truth, but it was different from being faced with the reality. Charlie was the one who stole from the museum. He’d likely been doing a lot worse for the past few months. And somehow, Feinman had gotten in between. He’d also paid the price.

Your brother saw your disappointment, and he accepted it. But lacking an answer, Eddie pistol whipped you in the face, earning a pained cry from you as you fell back onto the ground. You had to blink the stars out of your eyes.

After his shock wore off, Charlie’s face hardened with fury.

“Oh, don’t give me that fucking face,” Eddie said. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, startling another sharp breath from you. “If you don’t tell me what I want to know, what I did to you’ll be child’s play, compared to what I’m gonna do to her. And you’re going to watch.”

Against your will, tears filled your eyes while you stared at your brother. You were terrified, and Charlie knew it. He was scared too, but he also knew then what he had to do.

“I buried them,” he admitted.

“You buried them?” Eddie repeated. He brushed back his dark hair with the same hand that held his gun. “Ain’t that ironic. All right, where did you bury them?”

“In the national forest, less than an hour out,” Charlie replied. “But you won’t find it without me.”

Eddie shook his head on a sigh. “Of fucking course.”

He gestured to his men waiting nearby. He wordlessly gave them the order to untie your brother.

“All right, Charlie. Let’s go for a drive,” he said, and gave you a sleazy smile. “You too, sweetheart.”

He hauled you up onto your feet and kept you close to him, with a hand like a vice around your arm. God, you hated a sweethearting man.

You held your breath. You could only pray that Dory had noticed you were missing…and that Russell and Colter could find you before it was too late.

Please…

It was still dark out, but the sky was beginning to lighten when Colter pulled to the side of the road. The car they followed had stopped in front of a warehouse near an industrial downtown area. Colter spotted the blue sedan from the Ring Camera footage. It was parked out front.

With a shared nod of understanding, Colter and Russell climbed out of the truck and took the time to arm themselves properly before scoping out the warehouse.

“What does a drug cartel want with museum artifacts?” Russell remarked as they were gearing up. “That’s still not adding up for me.”

“It is odd, but maybe the idea came from Charlie,” Colter said. “He had access. Maybe he saw it as a way to buy their trust.”

“Okay, then what went wrong? Why’d they take her?” Russell replied. “I don’t know, man. Something feels off here.”

Colter nodded in agreement. “We don’t have all the pieces yet.”

But they were about to get them. They moved closer to the warehouse, with Russell heading towards a side door and Colter going around the back. They saw a few men crowded around a TV in the corner of the warehouse. Behind them were crates upon crates of what surely was product. Probably tens of thousands worth of coke.

Jesus, Russell thought. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but still. This was a serious operation.

Colter caught sight of a lone chair under a bright corner of the room. It was stained with sweat and blood, and some cut ropes hung from the seat. He alerted Russell to the scene with a subtle gesture of his raised gun. Russell’s face turned grim. He nodded minimally, then pointed with his eyes at the group of unsuspecting men. The brothers drew in closer.

Russell fired a shot directly into the TV screen, making it crash onto the ground. The men startled like rats, but they soon faced Russell and Colter’s guns. When one of them reached for the gun tucked in their pants, Colter aimed directly at him.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Colter warned.

“Where’s Charlie?” Russell demanded. “And his sister.”

He aimed his .45 caliber M1911 at their friend Pete, who had Cheeto stains on his shirt.

“How about you, Pete. You finally wanna share with the class, before I blow your fucking face off?!” Russell shouted.

The depths of his voice reverberated widely in the warehouse. It set the tone for things to come, if he didn’t get some cooperation.

Pete shifted on his feet, betraying his nerves. His forehead was starting to sweat too.

“They’re not here,” he admitted. “They left a while ago.”

Russell flexed his finger over the trigger of his gun.

“Tell me where,” he said.

Eddie wasn’t exactly an outdoorsy kind of guy. He kicked his boot against a tree while leaning against it.

“Fucking rock in my shoe,” he muttered angrily.

He was getting more and more frustrated with the uneven terrain (and the mosquitos) the longer the five of you trekked onwards: including you, Charlie, Eddie, and two of his men, Rick and Kevin. Both of them had guns trained on your back and Charlie’s.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said quietly to you.

You shook your head. Disappointment didn’t even begin to cover what you were feeling as you looked at him, but at least they’d given him a shirt to cover his beaten torso. His face wasn't so lucky.

He righted you when you struggled on the gravel and loose dirt in your ankle boots. Your hands were still tied together too.

“What the hell happened to you?” you asked, as you caught your breath.

“I needed the money,” he said, though he knew it wasn’t an excuse. “I was his bodyguard.”

“He’s a drug dealer,” you snapped. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“He was my dealer,” he admitted, though his gaze was heavy. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, but…a few weeks after I left rehab, I slipped. I never really did quit. Just got better at hiding it.”

You let out a sharp breath, and tried to blink past your tears. Another disappointment, another heartbreak for the books.

“But when he offered me a job to pay off what I owed, he wanted insurance that I’d stick around. To prove myself,” Charlie explained. “He came up with the idea to rob the museum.”

“Why was Dr. Feinman involved? Did he find out?” you asked.

Charlie nodded with a sigh. “He caught me the first time I tried to steal the artifacts. I…I lied. Told him we planned to sell them. So instead of turning me in, he wanted to be cut into the deal.”

“What? Why?” you said. Your former boss was many things—a stuffy, self-important man chief among them—but you’d never taken him for a thief.

Charlie gave you a wry look. “Owed his second wife up to his eyeballs. Alimony’s a real bitch.”

You shook your head. That explained why Charlie hadn’t yet been a suspect in the theft. Feinman had probably helped cover Charlie’s tracks. But whatever shortcomings Feinman had, he hadn’t deserved to die like that. A shudder went through your body, remembering his lifeless eyes. You breathed out slowly and tried to rid yourself of the nightmarish image. You managed to push past that to ask your next question.

“And who chose the Native American weapons?”

Charlie’s lips pursed. He glanced over his shoulder. “He did. Thought they looked cool.”

Eddie smirked and waved his gun at him, spurring you both onward. Charlie kept walking and turned his attention back to you.

“The way I figured it, the museum shouldn’t have them anyway.”

Your lips pursed at that. You sort of saw his point there, however convoluted his justification, but putting those artifacts in the hands of a drug dealer was even worse.

“And this is so much better for them,” you said pointedly.

“That’s why I couldn’t go through with it. Tried to get out of the whole damn mess,” he said. “I know what you would’ve said to me. And I knew if I ever saw you again, I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes.”

Your tears welled up again, when you saw the sincerity of his gaze.

“Okay, this touching little scene is making my balls itch,” Eddie said. He grabbed Charlie’s shoulder and turned him around. “Where the fuck are we going? If you’re trying to pull something smartass here, Charlie, I promise you, you’re gonna regret it.”

He cocked the safety back on his gun and pointed it at Charlie’s chest. Charlie raised slow, placating hands.

“It’s just a little further,” he promised.

“If you’re giving me the runaround—” Eddie started.

“Then what? Without me, you’ll never find it,” Charlie barked back.

Eddie’s face tightened, and he pointed the gun at you instead. You sucked in a breath.

Charlie quickly held up his bound hands again in surrender. After a beat of tension, he pointed up when he heard rushing water.

“Hear that?” he said. “I buried it on a cliff near a waterfall. We’re getting close.”

Another stretch of silence filled the clearing.

Eddie weighed Charlie’s words. When he was mollified enough, he lowered his gun away from you. At his command, Rick and Kevin kept you and your brother moving.

Charlie glanced to his right side. He realized that you all were walking near the edge of a steep hill that careened downward. Taking in a breath to center himself, he turned to you.

“I love you, you know that?” he whispered.

Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but you found the look in his eyes suspicious. Like he was saying goodbye.

That was when he swiftly turned. He snapped the heel of his hand into Kevin's throat and grabbed his gun while he was choking. Charlie shot him in the chest, then he clipped Rick in the shoulder.

Just as Eddie began to raise his own weapon, Charlie met your look of shock with his own determination.

He pushed you down the hill.

AN: I know, I know. Two cliffhangers in a row is cruel, but I promise we're getting to even more fun action and cathartic moments in Part 4! 😘

Next Time:

Russell called your name as he searched through the dense trees. Sunlight was beginning to filter through their leaves in dappled color on the trail. It gave him a better view ahead.

He stopped short when he saw a splatter of blood on the ground, painting the dirt and some dead leaves. A well of unease rose in his gut.

He headed toward the sound of running water, and he soon found another cliff. Just beyond it was a waterfall, and river below. Seeing no signs of life, he pulled back and continued to call your name, and all the while, pushing down his worry.

“Russell?!”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

#lovely review!! 💓💓#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #every second counts feedback

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holdmytesseract · 1 day ago

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Wrapping up 2024...

divider by @jiyascepter <3

Hello, there?

*taps microphone*

Fellow talented writers, dear mutuals, wonderful friends, and faithful readers... 2024 is coming to an end, and I thought it's time to take a look back at this year together with all of you - if you like, of course! ☺️

2024 has been a good year, I'd say personally. It wasn't the best, but certainly not bad. I was blessed with finding a lot of new friends on here... @chennqingg @angelwings-crossbowstrings @dixons-sunshine @mayday2007 @huntedmusicgardenn and @erebus-et-eigengrau ! Thank you for letting me invade your blogs, askboxes and DM's! I'm so grateful we became friends! 🙏🏼🧡 Especially @dixons-sunshine ... Gods, I'm such a fangirl of Krys. You have no idea. It's a wonder I didn't scare her off with my endless ramblings, lol. 😆

I also bumped into a lot of amazing, talented people on here this year - new faces and old acquaintances... @thevegandarkelf @loz-3 @buttercupcookies-blog @gigglingtiggerv2 @jiyascepter and so many more! You all have managed to blow my mind not just once, guys. Thank you for that! 🧡

I have also been blessed to spend another year with the gang on here! @smolvenger @eleniblue @lokisgoodgirl @mochie85 @vbecker10 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @jiyascepter - you guys are the best, and you damn well know how much y'all mean to me. Tumblr wouldn't be the same without you. That much is certain. Please never forget how freaking badass and magnificent you are! *BIG HUGS* 🧡

Yeah... I love the bond we all share on here. No matter writer, reader or 'lurker' - we all share the same passion one way or the other, and that's just beautiful, isn't it?

I'd like to give out a special thanks to @muddyorbsblr . It feels like we have known each other for ages but only got closer throughout this year (and perhaps the end of last year - I unfortunately can't remember entirely. Please forgive me, bestie.) Almost not a day goes by without us texting - and that's awesome. I could always rely on you for advice and help - or just for thirst. 🤭 No matter what, you always have a sympathetic ear for me - and I appreciate this and you so much! Thanks for being here and sharing all those cool things with me! I love you, bestie! 🧡

Another very close friend of mine I met on here is @fictive-sl0th - my compatriot, hehe. She's just wonderful. You know what I'm talking about if you ever had the chance to talk to her. That girl's got a heart of gold, I swear. She ALWAYS helps me when I get stuck on a story. I don't know what I'd do without her. I enjoy talking to her a lot. Friend, I absolutely treasure you. I love you! 🧡

What else happened this year on here? Well... I did a lot of writing - for which I'm very grateful. I'm still having so much fun doing this. I truly hope y'all have just as much fun with reading. I couldn't imagine a life without writing anymore. It's impossible.

My personal writing highlights this year:

• A Covenant for Eternity - a project I absolutely LOVED to write. It's been so cool to do this in cooperation with so many people. Love, love, love!

• Love In The Rearview Mirror - my newest series. I know I just started to post it, but I've been working on this already for quite some time. I love this series with all my heart, and I truly hope it won't disappoint you.

• Echoes of Hope - another great AU that I started. I absolutely fell in love with my OC's Teddy and Marlo. I just can't help but to continue this.

• Hunter & Prey - one of the steamiest things I ever wrote. I love this addition of the Baby Fever AU!

• ...what the future holds... - a spontaneous idea that turned into one of my favourite stories.

Do you guys have any favourite stories? I'm curious! Let me know - if you want! 🤗

What else happened? 🤔

Oh yeah, and I reached 2k followers this year! TWO THOUSAND... This is insane... I'm still stunned by this, I swear. I would've NEVER ever thought this was going to happen someday. Not even in my wildest dreams. Thank you again for this! 🙏🏼

And oh boy, we celebrated big...

Campire Sleepover

Well... It's been a wild ride - and I can't wait what the next year has to offer... I'm excited!

Thank you ALL for reading, commenting, reblogging, and interacting! Thank you ALL for spending this year with me - and fangirling together. No matter if it was about an mischievous God, or an archer with an angel-winged vest. Thank you ALL for helping me shape this blog. It wouldn't be the same without you.

Thank you - from the bottom of my heart!

I truly hope I didn't forget somebody... If I did, I'm SO sorry. I didn't mean to forget you! Please feel hugged. 🙏🏼

I love you all! 🧡

Now there's only one more thing left to say - I mean, I already stole enough of your time...

I wish all of you a merry merry Christmas and happy holidays! I hope you are able to enjoy it! 🎄

And now... *turns up Christmas music*

P.S. If you made it until here, I'm gonna tell you a secret... 🤫 There's a Christmas-ish Loki oneshot coming your way in the next two days... 🤫

#wrapping up 2024 #personal stuff?#friends #mutuals #writing #reading #loki #daryl dixon #doctor who #Spotify

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acid-ixx · 7 hours ago

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last night, i just had a terrible nightmare where someone sent in a really long ask that was straight up hating and criticizing every part of my writing. calling out the insecurities/faults, plot inconsistencies, and insulting my writing style—

which i admit: yeah, it's wordy and really long, sometimes i focus too much on one scene or on the emotions solely, and i focus on every single detail; i'm a very emotional and hypersensitive person who likes to overanalyze on the scenes and characters. i acknowledge that it's unconventional and unprofessional at times; but it's what makes me happy and it's up to readers to continue reading or not despite the length. it's my own writing, i write content for free and everything i post are indulgent on my part, hence why i explicitly state i don't really wish for constructive criticism since again, it's all for free and it's all done for fun.

though, in that dream, it came to the point where the ask straight up told me i should just quit writing, that whatever i'm writing for is utter trash (overrated, it says. there are better writers out there and, yeah, i agree. i've the passion and drive but not so much for talent) and not worth the effort to read. so i did what was told and deactivated my account and went on to never write anymore fanfics after just how shaken up i was, then i woke up HAHAHAH.

and it genuinely felt so real, ngl. i couldn't get it off of my mind even until now, so here i am rambling about it. sorry if anyone expected me to post a drabble, or a fanfic; but right now i need more time to ponder upon whether or not i should change my writing style 'cause chapter five pt 2 will be posted soon but it's longer and who knows? maybe my worst nightmare may come true if i post it and it's subpar, not up to expectation.

and if people don't really wish for something long that borders on boring or filler scenes, then maybe, maybe not i will change how i write (but i probably won't lmao). either way, i have to remind myself that i am writing for myself, and posting it to simply archive in this account. i just hope people won't be as cruel as that mystery person in my dreams if i ever do

it's genuinely the audience's choice to read my works or not if the length or style bothers them. and as entitled as i may sound, i wish to remind some that writing a chapter with more than 10k words is my choice, and it's an arduous process too that takes hours of my time. writing fanfics is for me is purely indulgent and are reflections of my real life experiences, if it's lengthy, then yes i chose it to be, but it's not like i'm writing a thesis or an essay, i'm writing a goddamn fanfic with stereotypical tropes (most especially yandere) because it what makes me enjoy my passion as an author.

i apologize again for the long ramble, i really just need this out of my thoughts. this is my own blog too so yeah 😭. if you guys follow me solely for my fanfics, then filter out the "🍨... yael's talking" tag if you wish to avoid these types of talks.

#🍨... yael's talking #my nightmares always have to target my deepest insecurities huh 😭#it's funny tho like #i'm just a guy who uses this blog. can my mind just leave me to rest 😭#apologies for all the pending asks too #im avoiding my inbox cause im chickening out

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baronessvonglitter · 2 days ago

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I think as creators we should be proud of every work we allow to be shared with others. And so I am following in the footsteps of @myownwholewildworld , @milla-frenchy , @itwasntimethatdidit40 , @sunshinehaze1 who graciously tagged me and who I'm enormously happy to share this space with 💜 and many thank yous to @jolapeno for the 2024 tootathon idea. I love it, and I think it's healthy to gas ourselves up now and then.

Cherry, Cherry was my first foray into fanfic writing. I thought this would be the only thing I'd ever write just because it took up such large space in my heart that I feared there wouldn't be room for anything else. Then, as happens to us all, other WIPs started peeking their heads through and asking 'what about me?' and so I continued. And I'm so glad I did ❤️

Halftime Show still makes me blush when I read it. I don't remember what came over me but I had so much fun during the process. The sequel is still in the works, but it's going to be bigger and (I hope) better!

Like a Good Girl Should was written in yet another frenzy where I just had something in my brain that I needed out. And it’s so much fun to write Joel as a sleaze 😏

As a bonus I'm adding Law of Attraction and if love be rough with you, be rough with love even though they're not yet complete. The former is so much fun to write, sweet and breezy. The latter is darker, with twists and turns and I'm definitely gonna toot my own horn when I say I don't think there's any story like it.

Last but not least, my favorites are also the friends I've made on this platform, the people who've let me into their inbox just to scream about a certain character or even just to spitball ideas. I look up to all of you and am inspired by your amazing talent every day! If I could give you all a big hug I would. Love y'all 💖

if you are reading (yes you!) consider yourself personally tagged by me, because I am doing this quite late and I'm sure most who will do it have done it by now 😅

#tootathon2024 #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal cinematic universe #joel miller fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #writers of tumblr

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ravixen · 2 days ago

Note

heyy! may i ask for vocal term ver of svt meeting your friends? 👉🏼👈🏼 (btw i am the same anon who asked for the performance team ver of it hehe)

svt + meeting your friends (pt 3)

➔ requested || reaction || vocal unit

➔ warnings: none || 0.8k words ➔ notes: fluff ; heya! i hope you liked the performance unit version of it; it was fun to write, so i hope other people love it, too. here's the vocal team version of the same prompt. please reblog if you enjoyed! i love reading all of the comments. thank you for sending in my last request!! :)

JEONGHAN: he was just going to drop you off and head home, but your friends needed someone for their pick up basketball game—just until the last person of your friend group got out of traffic—and they heard that he's pretty athletic. "just a little," he allows, stretching his limbs. he doesn't have to stay, but he doesn't have much else to do at home and this is the perfect chance to make a good impression on your friends. everyone goes around quickly introducing themselves in a circle, and that's all the team-bonding they get before finding positions on the court. for the first game, you and jeonghan are on opposite teams, so he takes it easy, jogging around and making simple plays to get a feel for his team's rhythm. it's so laid back that it annoys you, the one who knows what he's capable of. respect you and your team enough to put in effort? he gives you a cocky grin. sure. when his team huddles during the break, he tells them his plan and your best friend whistles lowly. "I mean...they did ask for it," they say with a shrug. the second game immediately puts him on his team's good side and your team's bad side. maybe he'll make a better impression off the court.

JOSHUA: posted in part 1!

JIHOON: they know that he's famous, but man, are all celebrities this effortlessly cool or is it just him? he's not doing anything in particular, and in fact, he's quite friendly; he made sure to shake everyone's hand with both of his when they introduced themselves, and he said that he's lee jihoon, as if your friends haven't seen his name plastered on billboards across the city. he doesn't talk too much about himself, preferring to sit in the background, but the way his simple t-shirt stretches around his shoulders, the way his pushed back sunglasses act as a headband for messy black hair, the way he puts his arm on the back of your chair and leans in to share a menu...hot, humble, and sweet with an unmistakable aura. you really snagged a good one. and when you ask for the check only to find out that jihoon's already paid for the table? you whirl around and level him with a look, but one of your friends, the one across the table from you, laughs. "dude, I thought you looked suspicious on the way to the bathroom. did you even go?" hot, humble, sweet, rich, and generous. they'll keep an eye out next time to prevent him from paying in the future, though.

SEOKMIN: it takes him a long time to meet your friends, and they're getting antsy. but no matter how much they pester you about seeing the golden retriever boyfriend himself in real life, even jokingly accusing you of hiding him from the world, you can't do anything because he's refusing to meet your friends. it's the reason he gives for not guesting on lee mujin's show...he doesn't feel like he's good enough, and there's so much to unpack in that simple admission. that's why the first meeting inside a newly opened bakery and cafe is entirely accidental. you see the nervousness in his posture as soon as they recognize you and wave. then they turn their gaze to him, and he reaches for your hand, clasping it tightly to his side. "hey guys," you say, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "this is seokmin." there's something in the glint in your eyes that reminds them to play nice. luckily, this is the icebreaker needed to get him comfortable with a planned second meeting that goes so much better. he doesn't wander from your side, but he fully participates in the conversation, and your friends conclude that you're right. they do need sunglasses to look at his mega-watt smile.

SEUNGKWAN: he's professor boo of kpop for a reason; he's got room in his pretty head for all sorts of niche information, so of course, he's been filing away facts about your friends over time. when he actually meets them, he ends up bringing the perfect gift. "oh wow," your friend says, gaping at the bag he handed over. "I've actually been eying this for a while but didn't tell anyone! how did you know?" he shrugs as he kicks off his shoes at the door. "it just seemed like it would suit you," he says easily. the world can't sing his praises enough. there's a reason why so many people love him and invite him everywhere. he uses the information he's collected to perfectly navigate conversations: what topics make people light up and lean forward in interest? what topics should he avoid to prevent awkward silences? deep down, he feels like he has to make a good impression because you chose him and he wants to prove to everyone that he deserves you, even though no one is thinking that in the slightest. (in your eyes, it's him that deserves more than the world can give him.)

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #jeonghan scenarios #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #seokmin scenarios #dk scenarios #seungkwan scenarios #g: svt #m: jeonghan #m: jihoon #m: seokmin #m: seungkwan #t: reaction #s: request #anonymous #ravixen

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scribbly-artist · 2 days ago

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Lesson Learned

Summary: You’ve known Silco and Vander for a long time, you all go way back. They also know you’re a little shit - on purpose. Trouble makes it way back to you.

Author’s Notes: Thank you to my mutual for sending in the request for this one!! I had actually made a text post talking about writing something like this in the past. It goes to show that if you egg me on with ideas, I’ll write something for it. :^) I actually had a lot of fun writing this one too! Figuring out Vander and Silco’s dynamic as well as the Reader was really fun to put together. I didn’t write this inherently romantic but I think you can think of this one swinging either way! I hope everyone enjoys this one!! <3

Words: ~2,100 | AO3 Link

A quiet night at The Last Drop was always your preferred place to hang out and unwind. It was a Tuesday and no one else was around, despite being not that late into the evening.

It was good when the bar was empty, because you could hang out with your two mates - and owner’s of the place, Vander and Silco.

Both men have looked out for you tremendously. You were all mining buddies from way back when. You may be small, but you are undoubtedly mighty. They were quite surprised to see someone of your stature work in that kind of field. They never underestimate your skills, but they always made sure you were safe in those awful conditions.

You've never had anyone to rely on your whole life - your family was long gone. These two were the closest you've had to family, and you were grateful for it.

Music played from the jukebox and bounced across the walls as you took a sip from your glass. Straight from the bottle with a bit of ice: exactly how you like it. Vander was behind the bar cleaning up from the busy day, and Silco was writing in a book a stool away from you.

“Man, things are a lot more quiet these days, huh,” you mused aloud, taking another swig of your drink, the ice clinking gently.

“It's better that way, don't you think?” Vander replied, swiftly cleaning a glass with a piece of cloth.

“Well, yeah. I suppose. Not much to do these days other than putting your head down and working, though,” your finger circled the rim of the glass, fidgeting. “It wasn't the best, but I had a lot of fun in the mines.”

“You did?” Silco piped up, scribbling something down in the notebook with his pen, not looking away from his work.

“Yeah - getting down and dirty was fun, until the debris-filled air got caught in your lungs,” reminiscing, you went through your memories. “I remember you two bickering over something real stupid, like an old married couple, and I had to be the voice of reason and break you two up.” You giggled as you spoke.

Vander shook his head with a laugh. “I remember always saving you two from rocks falling on your heads. Yourself, in particular, were never the careful type.”

“I just had fun smashing rocks up, y'know? So what if a couple rocks fell on me?” You replied with a wave of your hand.

Silco grabbed his glass, still writing in his book, taking a swig of his drink. “I remember you always bugging Vander and I on break - on purpose.” He gave you a bit of a side eye with a smirk.

You returned his look with a smirk of your own, a glint in your eyes. “I remembered one way I used to annoy you,” you scooted over on your seat, leaning over and poking Silco in his side. He wasn't expecting that, his grip on his pen slipping on the paper. “I used to always poke and prod you while you wrote up our daily report on our break. Just so the higher ups couldn't read your handwriting.” You gave him another ticklish poke, making your point clear.

Silco’s eyebrow twitched, messing up another word he was writing. He crossed it out. “I never had a way to stop you back then. You were always so persistent. And slippery...” Silco replied, not looking up from the notebook. Vander finished cleaning up the glasses, propping his elbows up on the bar, giving his full attention to both of you.

You gave him another poke with an added scribble, making Silco drop his pen onto the floor, turning to give you an unamused look. “I always brought the fun to our break, right?” You tilted your head with a smile.

“…but now, I might just have a way to stop you.” With a swift motion, Silco closed the notebook. “Vander, if you would.”

“Wha–” you didn't have a moment to get a word in as Vander made his way around the bar, grabbing you from behind. Vander lifted you slightly off of the ground, your feet just scraping the floor, encapsulating you in an almost bear hug. His hold was strong so you wouldn’t be able to wriggle yourself away, but he was gentle.

“Hey, hey hey hey, waitwait, what are you doing?” You asked, nervousness laced in your voice. Surely Silco and Vander wouldn't do anything awful to you, right?

“Every time you bugged me, and every time I tried to get you back, you swore up and down you weren't ticklish–”

“BECAUUUUSE I'm not, obviously,” you quickly interjected with a cautious laugh.

“And every time I tried, you never gave a reaction. But thanks to our kind friend here,” Silco motioned to Vander. “He let me in on a little secret.”

You gasped in surprise, craning your neck to look at Vander, your eyes wide. “You didn't.”

Vander has a mischievous look in his eye. “Oh, I did.”

You remembered when Vander found out you were ticklish…

Silco had gone home early, but Vander and yourself were getting some equipment cleaned up. You had come to him after a rough day at the mines. You had hurt your shoulder from hauling material around, and Vander offered to try to massage your shoulder to make it feel better.

You accepted his offer, and it was fine at first, under he squeezed in just the right way. You let out a squeak, Vander had thought he had hurt you at first and was worried. You denied that he hurt you, which relieved him, but he asked why that happened. You had to tentatively explain that it tickled.

Vander had replied with something similar to “You know, he’s going to use that against you if he finds out about this?” with a smirk on his face. You practically begged Vander to not tell Silco a word of this, and he told you he wouldn't tell a soul…

Silco let out a dark chuckle as he could almost see the cogs turning in your brain.

“Vander, you traitor!” You started to thrash about, but Vander held you tight. “You said you wouldn't tell him!” You weren’t really angry at either of them - you could definitely feel the sweat collecting on your palms, though.

“I figured I might as well. If you're reacting this awfully about it, then maybe it'd be a useful tactic to knock you down a few pegs whenever you're being a right little shit.” Vander let out a laugh at your demise. Your squirming was no match for his grip, you didn't even sway him in the slightest. Of course you couldn’t, his frame was a whole lot bigger than yours.

Silco took a step forward, the grin on his face all too evil. “It’s what you deserve for messing with the wrong person.” He was having way too much fun with this. Your heart skipped a beat with a bit of fear. Oh, shit!

“Noooo, no no, Silco, no, we can t-talk about this, right? We’re buddies?” Your smile was lopsided and wobbly, nervous giggles already teetering out from your throat. “Surely you can forgive me? It was all in good fun! Right??”

“You can’t worm your way out this time,” he inched his face closer, a sweat drop rolled down from your forehead. Your eyes darted to his hands as he flexed his fingers. “I’ll send the message across and make sure you think twice about trying to annoy me for your own amusement.”

Before you could sputter out anymore protests, Silco dug in.

He was terrifyingly gentle, was your first thought. His fingers skittered up and down your sides. You instinctively bit down on your lip hard to silence yourself. They both noticed this.

“Surely you know I won’t be satisfied until I get what I want?” Silco moved his gentle yet dexterous touch upwards, skittering into your unprotected underarms. He got a fair bit of extra thrashing from that, making him chuckle. Vander had to hold you a little tighter. “There’s no use holding it in, you understand?”

You shook your head back and forth, determined to hold your laughter at bay. You were not going to let them win this.

Silco tsked, shaking his head. “Your stubbornness will be your downfall.”

You felt another, bigger hand poking around - uh oh, Vander was joining in. His touch was a bit rougher, his fingers scribbling around your stomach. Vander joining in along with Silco is what caused the dam to shatter into pieces.

“WaitwaitWAIT— AHAHA!!” You finally let it all out, laughing your head off with a big, goofy smile on your face. Silco and Vander leaned their heads back away from your face a little - they weren’t expecting your laugh to be so shrill and loud, it hurt their ears.

“Awfully loud, this one,” Vander commented, your cheeks turning red. “Though, they squeaked last time; wonder if we can draw that noise outta ‘em?”

“NohohoHO! D-Don’t you DAREEE!” You threatened with a whine, though not serious about it at all.

“You were never intimidating to begin with, let alone in this state,” Silco observed, moving his hands to trail down to your stomach, trading places with Vander who started squeezing at your ribs. You let out a squeak, exactly what they wanted. “Especially like this.”

“HAHAHA— no, nohohoho!! It tickles!!” You couldn’t hold back anymore, the feeling overwhelmed every nerve in your body.

“That’s the point.” Silco couldn’t help laughing at your silliness. Tears were budding in the corners of your eyes.

“Think the lesson stuck?” Vander piped up, his scribbling slowing to a stop. He still kept a grip on you, although you had stopped fighting back to save what little energy you had left.

“Yes... I believe so.” Silco gave you a couple more tweaks and pokes to your sides and ribs, and finally let up. He moved his arms away from your body, crossing them over his chest instead with a grin on his face. Vander loosened his grip on you. You nearly tumbled to the floor but managed to stay up right, your head hanging down to the floor. Your body felt like lead.

You greedily sucked in air, your chest rising and falling. You raised your head, eyeing Silco. “Has… has anyone ever t-told you that you can be scary if y-you could set your mind to it?”

Silco stretched his hand out in a truce, and you grabbed on with your own. “While Vander has his size and his raw strength, I have my words. We’ve scared plenty off before.” Silco spoke with a laugh. Both men led you to sit down - Silco by the hand, Vander with a hand on your back - back on your stool at the bar.

Vander rounded the bar, refilling your forgotten and watered down drink with a new beverage and piece of ice. You grabbed your glass, raising it in thanks as you took a sip. Silco took his own seat back at the bar, drinking from his own glass.

“Didn’t overdo it, did we?” Vander questioned, reaching out to ruffle your hair. You giggled as you pushed his hand away.

“No, no, it was fine…” You could admit… you thought you liked that little exchange. You were quiet for a moment, lost in thought.

Until you felt a poke in your side from Silco. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle a taste of your own medicine?” He teases.

“It’s not that…” you took a deep breath, resting your hand over your face. You could feel the subtle heat coming off of your cheeks. “Actually… I think I liked it…”

Both men paused for a moment in silence at your words. Vander was the first to speak, with a smile and a teasing lilt in this voice. “Isn’t that something?” He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, making you groan in response.

“That’s positively adorable of you.” Silco smirked, placing a hand on your shoulder with a wide grin. Your face only got more red as you covered it with your hands.

“Ughhhh, s-shut up…” your voice was muffled from your hands. “It just made me feel safe… and happy…”

“Looks like we’ll have to put you in your place more often, don’t you agree?” Vander asked, looking over to Silco who nodded a little bit too enthusiastically for your liking.

“Ugh,” you pulled your hands away from your face, throwing your head back. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

Your face only grew more crimson during the night as you got relentlessly teased and prodded at by your two favourite people. You wouldn’t ever admit it again, but deep down, you enjoyed it.

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twig-tea · 7 hours ago

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2024 Tumblr Top 10

tagged by @lurkingshan here and @neuroticbookworm here, thank you both! This really reminds me that I need to do a real pinned post at some point.

If you want to generate your own, you can use this link! I used the link to find the posts but wrote this below because I thought reflecting on the posts would be fun.

My GL rec list (covering everything through to Feb 2024), which I'm very happy about taking first place. If you want GL recs, check that out first, and then feel free to browse my #GL recs tag.

The admittedly shady post from October calling out the director of the Addicted Heroin Thailand adaptation for (a)making weird choices and (b)defending them as artistic. But I stand by my anger about this. Censorship is not an aesthetic!

The non-novel-spoilery reaction post to episodes 1 & 2 of Love In The Big City which was also from October, but which honestly stands up for my reaction to the whole series. What a gift of a show.

A quick pitch for Akaya is in Love with Hiroko from July. This one hurts! I was so ready to cheerlead for this show and did several times, but the penultimate episode made me wary and the finale really upset me, to the point where I didn't end up writing about the finale, so I'll take the chance here: Don't make a show about two self-aware lesbians, one who has been comfortably sexually active for years and one who is super horny for her, and have them get together as adults and yet be celibate for a year out of "respect". Is the message that sex between consenting and enthusiastic adults is not respectful?! GTFO. For the record I can be respected with orgasms, thank you.

The episode celebrating the messaging in the finale of Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo from November. Glad that this is here between the previous entry and the next two, because this is a good balm for the pain. LFtCoT landed the ending and gave us all a giant hug while doing it!

The list of things I was thinking about at the end of Wandee Goodday ep3 from May. Another disappointment for me. The things this post shouts out are still things I like about this show, and reading it again is a reminder of where the back half let the first half down (not taking seriously some of the things we were told to take seriously in the first few episodes).

An early post about Love Is Better the Second Time Around from March. Another show that did not land everything, in this case because it felt like it tried to shove in a complicated conflict in the last two episodes that they didn't have time to handle. But I still love those early episodes and all of the interplay between Miyata, Iwanaga, and Shiraishi.

My clown theory for Every You, Every Me also from October, which ended up being correct! I've never been more happy to be right, I liked this reveal for the show so much.

In February I wrote this thesis about the state of Thai BL looking at data from 2022 and 2023, which I have been meaning to go back and update since I think Shan as usual was feeling the start of the wave and we needed more data to see the change actually play out in 2024. I now no longer feel (as I did in this post) that things haven't changed, I do think they have this year. But I need to crunch the numbers again to prove it to myself (and everyone else) though. Stay tuned!

In July I did a round-up post about the various theories surrounding Century of Love, and whether Vee and Vad were the same person. Turns out San did wrestle with this as I'd hoped but the show itself felt like it lost steam and copped out around this, unfortunately. At least we'll always have fox demon Offroad and grumpy old man Daou's collarbones thanks to this show.

Special shout-out to @lurkingshan because two of the posts above are answers to asks she put in my inbox that spawned project posts. Shan knows what the people want to hear!

Tagging @italianpersonwithashippersheart @benkaben @ellsieee @colourme-feral @pigglepiephi @impala124 no pressure tags and apologies if you've been tagged already!

#tumblr top 10 #ql superlatives 2024 #thank you for tagging me #typed so that i can stop thinking it #multi bl #bl meta #gl meta #addicted heroin thailand #love in the big city #ayaka chan wa hiroko senpai ni koishiteru #ayaka is in love with hiroko #let free the curse of taekwondo #wandee goodday #koi wo suru nara nidome ga joto #love is better the second time around #every you every me #century of love the series

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crepesuzette2023 · 10 hours ago

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The Keeper of the Mood: my Secret Santa '24 gift for @crumblingcookies! (Derek Taylor/Paul McCartney; with J/P looming large...)

Spring 1968.

Apple press officer Derek Taylor finds Paul McCartney unconscious on the street. He takes him home.

It’s simple, really, what Paul needs. Derek has all the words for it; there is nothing about any of the Beatles he can’t express. What Paul needs is not here. The attention of the fans outside is creeping closer. Martha is here, the wall is here. A painting of two demons topping-and-tailing it on a bed is right here, mounted on the wall. Derek is here.

Merry Christmas @crumblingcookies! Your wishlist was a cornucopia of good taste, and having to choose among prompts and ideas was truly agonizing! I hope this mix of '68 Paul/Derek Taylor and hot mess Paul found sleeping on the street pleases you. I added a happy ending since you said you are no a fan of bad endings, and tried to slip in one or two of your smutty favorites. ;-)

Thank you for your excitement about the Paul/Derek Taylor hate sex prompt. It was intimidating as hell to write, but eventually became my introduction to a man I love. If you have half as much fun reading this story as I did "researching Derek" in preparation for writing it, I did my job.

"I was still representing, if you like, the old days. There are still people out there who longer on after the mood is gone: the keepers of the mood." — Derek Taylor

"I ADORE Derek Taylor." — Steven Cockcroft, Nothing is Real Podcast

Cookiez: It was an honor to be your Santa this year, and I wish you a holiday season as sparkling as John and Paul's looks during the '68 Apple Launch, but devoid of all the horrors!

AO3 link

cc: @beatleskinkmeme

#beatles secret santa 2024 #mclennon #mclennon fanfiction #my fic #paul mccartney #derek taylor #john lennon #martha #the beatles kink meme #beatles fanfiction

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meggie-stardust · 1 day ago

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Friends, may I present my fashionably late @stetersecretsanta2024 gift...

Happy Steter Secret Santa to @arsenicalikat!! Thanks for the wonderful prompts to play with that let me go crazy with my finding little moments of canon to change.

I am so sorry that this is a few days late (stupid nasty winter bug), but I hope it was worth the wait and I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it.

Title: Into the Blue Again Pairing: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski Rating: Teen+ Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Pre-Slash, Getting Together, Canon Rewrite

Summary: When the Wild Hunt moved on from Beacon Hills, it did so with Stiles still trapped inside, forgotten by everyone. Until Peter remembers him, and decides to do something about it.

OR the one where Peter sort of time travels to go back and save Stiles, and ends up changing quite a bit in the process.

Deaton is looking between them. “You sure about this?” he asks Stiles. Peter immediately curls his lip at Deaton and steps closer to Stiles, wrapping one hand around Stiles’ right wrist. And, huh? That’s a new reaction. “We’ve talked about this,” Stiles says at the same time to the group at large, but gives pointed looks to both Scott and Deaton. He’s gripping what looks like his Dad’s badge in his right hand, but his left hand closes over Peter’s own on his right wrist. Something clicks into place––a new old memory––he remembers Stiles guiding Lydia towards him, being there when Peter came back… pulling him back into life. Peter understands it’s now his turn to pull Stiles back if he goes too far. This is an interesting and unexpected development.

Read on AO3

#steter secret santa 2024 #steter fic #meg writes fic #my fic #steter

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lemonlyman-dotcom · 2 days ago

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Hello! Sharing a longer bit from my fic This Infinite Love which is now fully posted on ao3 ❤️💚 I had so much fun writing this one and it was so amazing reading along with everyone’s comments all week 💕

After a year and a half of pursuing the why of Gabriel’s murder, he was finally ready to face the why of the pain. Gabriel was his dad. And Carlos realised that it wasn’t through solving his murder, or becoming an exemplary Ranger that he would continue his father’s legacy or make him proud. It was by being a good man, a generous and gracious husband, by prioritizing his family and building a good life. And, he told TK with a hopeful spark in his eye, by being brave. By being a good father to a little boy who desperately needed one.

TK knows that Carlos was scared, that despite coming to terms with everything his father was, he was still terrified of making the same mistakes and possibly causing more harm to a vulnerable little boy. But Carlos took to fatherhood naturally. His fear only made him more mindful, more sweet with both of them, more purposeful of prioritizing his family and holding up his promises.

He knows he would have taken Jonah in on his own if he had to, but this family wouldn’t be the same without Carlos.

Carlos, who is always coaxed into reading at least two extra stories when he tucks Jonah in at night, because he always reads them in the silly voices that Jonah adores.

Carlos, who lets Jonah ride around on his shoulders through the farmers market, the same one they’ve been going to almost every weekend since he and TK first started dating. The vendors they know by name, June, who provided the flower arrangements for their wedding, Marisol, who always gives Carlos an extra sample of her raspberry honey, and Maurice, who’s lamb rounds are the only cut of lamb Carlos will use for his carnitas, all love Jonah and have stickers and sweets for him when they stop by their booths.

Carlos, who spent an hour digging through boxes in his parents’ garage one afternoon after TK called him at work to tell him Jonah had the flu and that he’d been feeling so rotten he was practically inconsolable. He came home with Kique, his old stuffed koala, and put on a little puppet show in Jonah’s room until he fell asleep.

TK Strand is living a full, beautiful life. And it’s due in no small part to the man that’s walking through it by his side.

Later, when Jonah has gone up to brush his teeth before he and Carlos head out, TK corrals Carlos in the foyer where he’s just finished packing up his work satchel and pulling his boots on. He hands Carlos Jonah’s lunchbox and leans in for a kiss.

“You remind me of him, you know,” he says softly when he pulls back from their kiss, running a hand lightly over Carlos’s hair. He still gels his curls back for work, but since he wears the cowboy hat with his Rangers uniform, TK doesn’t have to be quite so careful not to mess it up as he did back when he was working as a patrol officer.

“Babe,” Carlos says, eyes going dark and shiny.

“It’s true,” TK says, cupping Carlos’s cheek with a soft hand. “It’s in the way you love us, the little ways you take care of us.” He moves his hand down to Carlos’s chest and rubs over his heart. “You’re an amazing man, an incredible father. He’s proud of you, I know it.”

“Thank you, baby,” Carlos replies, voice rough and eyes soft with fondness.

“You don’t have to thank me,” TK says, leaning up for another kiss, quicker this time. He knows they’ve got seconds before Jonah comes flying back into the room. “I always wanna make sure you know. You’re everything to me, to us. And we love you very much. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

“I love you too. You are both so precious to me.” Carlos smiles, grabbing TK’s hand and cradling it between their chests. “And you’ll never have to find out. I’m not going anywhere.”

The sound of little feet pattering across the hardwood floor is all the warning they get before Jonah is upon them.

“Are you KISSING?” he shouts.

“Not anymore,” TK mutters under his breath, causing Carlos to laugh and playfully flick the side of his head before he turns his attention to Jonah.

Read on ao3

Thank you for the tags @heartstringsduet @carlos-in-glasses @nisbanisba @carlossreaders @everlastingday 💕

Tagging: @annoyingcloudearthquake @henrygrass @paperstorm @thisbuildinghasfeelings @ironheartwriter @whatsintheboxmh @orchidscript @the-126-family @bonheur-cafe @firstprince-history-huh @hereghostslive @eclectic-sassycoweyes @emsprovisions @iboatedhere @alrightbuckaroo @captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @ladytessa74 @chicgeekgirl89 @literateowl @laelipoo @welcometololaland @basilsunrise @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @freneticfloetry @sapphic--kiwi @herefortarlos @filet-o-feelings @tinyluminaryzombie @kiwichaeng @guardian-angle22 @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @never-blooms @decafdino @certifiedflower @irispurpurea and OPEN TAG 🏷️

#911 lone star #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand x carlos reyes #fic rec #911 lone star fic #tarlos fanfic #seven sentence sunday

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alaydabug2 · 3 days ago

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Secret Santa 2024

Run by @song-tam

This is my secret Santa project for my lovely cognate @wow-youre-so-pretty !

I have absolutely zero idea how I got you for it, but I had so much fun writing this!

Ngl motivation was so low it was playing limbo with the devil at first but then it finally started rolling

*cough* over 3500 word count *cough* 👀

Ummmm.... I was struggling really hard tk at least get 1000 believe it or not but... yeah

I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!!!

(FYI this will probably be the last time you ever ask me to write you angst 😅)

⚠️CONTAINS UNRAVELED SPOILERS AND SUICIDIAL IDEATION⚠️

(Keefe pov)

The eerie stillness of the emotions in the hallway spooked him. He was hoping that by the time he went back to Foxfire, the silence of emotions would go away, and he could go back to normal. However, things seemed to be taking a turn for the worse.

Hopefully, his empathy teacher would be able to help him get to the bottom of what was happening. The lack of progress he'd made on his own made him apprehensive. If he couldn't turn his empathy back on, he didn't want to know where that would spiral to.

Then, with the other developments while he was with the Forbidden Cities, he felt like he was currently falling apart. His hands were cold, and the more walls he built around the pools of energy in his mind, the more than achy feeling set in into the palms of his hands.

He sat in the chair across from Lady Velle, his mentor. She studied him for a moment before starting the lesson for the day.

Keefe kept fumbling to pretend his empathy wasn't majorly screwed up at the moment. A cold sweat trickled down his back when Lady Velle finally held up a hand to cut him off. It had been the fifth one in a row he got wrong. Only one he had gotten correct, and that was truly just because of a lucky guess.

"What's going on with you, Keefe?" She asked. "You're usually spectacular at this."

He debated how much to say. After a couple of breaths, he said, "Say, hypothetically, an empath shut off their ability, and couldn't turn it back on. What could that empath do to get it back on?"

Lady Velle crossed her arms. He shifted his gaze away from hers.

"Hypothetically, that would be impossible," she informed him. "Abilities can't be shut off once their triggered."

"Ok. But hypothetically, what if someone did?"

She stepped closer, brushing her thumb across the back of his hand and furrowing her brows. Keefe tensed up, afraid his mental blocking might not be enough to keep from something awful happening when she touched his hand.

"Your emotions are difficult to decipher," Lady Velle murmured. "But there's a lot of uncertainty. And fear. How did you do this to yourself?"

Keefe wrapped his arms around himself, unsure of how much he should tell her.

"The human emotions, they were too much for my empathy. So, I tried to visualize a switch connected to all the emotions and shut it off. Part of the string connected to them were tangled, so I unraveled it. I haven't been able to feel emotions, even with contact, since."

Lady Velle leaned on the wall and sighed. "That... is a first I've heard of, to be honest. Quite a talent, I'll admit. But have you tried flipping the switch back on?"

He scoffed. Of course he tried flipping it back on! He gave his mentor a quick nod.

"Have you tried retangling the threads?"

He had... not. He shook his head.

"Try it," she urged.

Keefe closed his eyes. He went back to the giant switch in the back of his consciousness. The strings attached were straight and in uniform, side by side.

He tried to mix them together. Tried to intertwine them. Didn't work. Had he really shut off his empathy for good?

He opened his eyes back up. "Nothing."

"There was something else when I read your emotions," Lady Velle said. "Dread. Almost like you're afraid of your empathy. Like you subconsciously don't want it. Why is that? Because that could be all the difference to turning it back on."

Keefe shrugged. He wasn't willing to let slip that much. Besides, it wasn't just his empathy he dreaded with all the other crap he'd been putting up with. Some of which weren't his right to tell.

Lady Velle looked out the window. She started to speak, but the chimes of session ending cut her off.

"Never mind," she muttered. "We'll continue this Thursday. Go to lunch."

Keefe grabbed his satchel and hurried out the door. Saved by the bell. Big time. He'd ditch Thursday. He didn't want his mentor prying further into the rabbit hole that was his life.

He went through the line and sat down at the table beside Sophie. It felt like all eyes on him. He was suddenly glad not to feel their questions buzzing through the air. It, however, didn't take away the weight of their glares.

Sophie could see the way he shifted in his seat. He kept his eyes downcast from the others. After everything that happened, he didn't feel a part of his friends anymore. He felt like an outcast. Maybe he should have just stayed in the Forbidden Cities with Alvar.

Keefe could have been eating pancakes right now. Instead, he was back at the place of horrid memories. Especially when he accidentally caught Dex's eye.

He wanted to make a joke to lighten things up. But now that he couldn't read anyone anymore, he was afraid of making jt worse. And when he opened his mouth to risk it, his tongue was dry. He couldn't make himself to it.

He could feel himself cracking. Too many pairs of eyes were staring straight through his soul. He felt himself shaking. His breath quickened.

Keefe truly thought he was ready to go back to Foxfire. He hoped getting back in his sessions would help him make sense of everything happening with his abilities.

He hoped being back with his friends would boost his morall and give him more motivation. No. The opposite effect was occurring. All of them staring at him like he was an alien creature made him realize how much him running away affected him. His friendships. His perception of life. The awful things he couldn't let slip. Not Alvar. Not Eleanor. Not his new healing ability.

He had never felt so outcasted. Not even his first few months at Foxfire, before the Great Gulon Incident that earned him his street cred. At least then he had Fitz. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud, for a while, they were the weird kids in the level.

This felt like a deeper kind of isolation.

One where he didn't know if there was a way out. One if he even thought living on to see another day was worth it. With the mixture of hopeless doom spiraling him into a darker head space and his mother's plans for him. He was genuinely considering the unthinkable.

The only thing stopping him was not having the stomach to do it himself. Sure, he was better with violence than most other elves. But taking his life with his own hand was too much. As much as everything hurt. As much as he couldn't stand to stay on this hopeless planet anymore. The thought made his nauseous and dizzy.

Keefe shook out of his dark train of thought when Jensj across the table told him, "Long time no see." A grin. "Glad to have you back!"

Keefe plastered wobbly, unconvincing smile onto his face. "Glad to be back," he lied.

Since when had Jensi been back sitting with them? Every time he thought he knew how much time had passed since being at school last, he was proven wrong once more. How much did he miss?

Keefe followed along the conversation best he could, more things he didn't understand being brought up, reminding him of how far left behind he was. He tried to stay out of the conversation.

That was until Jensi asked him, "Hey, Keefe, could you please pass me a napkin?"

Keefe glanced beside him to where the little black napkin dispenser was. "Uh, yeah, sure."

He stretched his arm across the table. But as he passed the napkin, their fingers brushed. Keefe froze.

No. No, no, no, no. No!

Keefe had built thick mental walls to keep this from happening. Why else did his hands feel so freezing cold it ached?

But it was unmistakable. The empty hollow feeling of someone who would never manifest. Of someone who was talentless.

He never wanted to feel that ever again in his life. But now, he had. And he felt sick.

He didn't even know whether Jensi had manifested or not yet. Now, here he was, with the knowledge that He. Never. Would.

Another burden on his shoulders. Another secret to carry. Another straw on the camel's back.

It was too much.

Dex gave him a look, sensing the wild look in his eyes. The quick nod Keefe gave in response said it all. Dex's face dropped.

Keefe was shaking. He excused himself to the bathroom and ran off into the hallway. He slid back against the locker and placed his head between his knees. Breaths came quick and short

Not again. Not again!

Another life he had ruined. Was he supposed to tell Jensi? How was he supposed to do that?

Jensi was close to the manifesting cut-off age. Could Keefe pretend to not know until he inevitably finds out. Did he already know?

Probably not. If so, he likely would have been kicked out of Foxfire already.

If it's going to happen anyway, would it be cruel to keep it from him? It's not like with Rex, who had years of hope left. Jensi was very well close to the age where, if you haven't manifested, they weed you out of the system.

Should Keefe rip off the bandage for him?

Keefe clutched his hair. Tears finally escaped. This was a nightmare. He couldn't deal with this. He didn't want to be the one deciding someone's fate.

He wanted- needed -it to end.

Maybe Ro left some lethal microbes back at the Shores of Solace. That mixed with a sedative would make it bearable.

Steps echoed through the empty hall. Keefe didn't have the willpower to pull himself together. He already decided he wouldn't be here much longer.

"Keefe?"

Keefe whipped his head up to meet Dex's eyes.

"It's not your fault." Dex sat beside him. "It's still going to end the same way if you hadn't found out."

Keefe sat on that for a second. "I have to tell him," he whispered.

"No, you don't," Dex assured him. "Sometimes oblivion is better."

"He's already to where they can take him out of Foxfire. If that's going to happen, I don't want him to think, 'What if?', you know."

Dex didn't speak for a moment. "I suppose you have a point. But are you sure you want him to know about your ability?"

"Not really. But... he deserves this more than I deserve privacy."

"I'm pretty confident that, if you ask him to, he won't say anything to anyone about your ability."

"You think?"

Dex pondered for a second longer. "I believe so. Question is, when do you want to do this?"

Keefe thought of his little microbe plan. "As soon as possible."

"So today or tomorrow?"

"That would work."

"If you want, I can be there when you tell him," Dex offered.

Keefe shook his head. "This is something that I need to do alone. I won't say anything about your brother in case you're worried about it."

"If you're sure he truly won't say anything, you can tell him about Rex if it helps soften the blow."

Keefe nodded. He dried his eyes before leaning his head back against the locker.

"Do you plan on heading back to lunch?" Dex asked.

"No. You can head back, though. I'll be fine here."

"Nah." Dex pulled his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. "I think I'll stay."

Keefe closed his eyes, wishing he was a telepath so he could give Dex a silent thank you. Instead he settled for trying to gather his thoughts in the quiet of the hallway, grateful to not feel totally alone.

The next day, Keefe waited in the same hall during lunch. He had asked Jensi during orientation to meet him there to talk.

The sound of someone heading down the tiled floor had his heart skip a beat. The curly headed boy appeared from around the corner.

"Sooo," Jensi drawled out the word. "What did you want to talk about?"

Keefe's mind drew a blank. He was regretting deciding to this plan.

"I wanted to talk about... ability detecting! How's it going?"

"Ability detecting?" Jensi asked. "That's what you wanted to talk to me in private about? If that's it we can talk about that at the lunch table." He turned to go back from where he came. "Cause I'm hungry."

"Wait!" Keefe squeezed his eyes shut. "It's not just about ability detecting. Has anyone told you about me manifesting a new ability yet?"

Jensi turned back around. "Kind of. They've mentioned it. But it was always vague, so I don't know what it is."

"Yeah... about that." Keefe's heart pounded against his ribs as a warning. "I can tell what people will manifest. And trigger it."

Jensi's eyes widened. "You can?" He got an overly giddy grin on his face. "Are you going to do that for me?"

Keefe needed to choose his next few words very carefully.

"I already did. Yesterday when I passed you the napkin."

Jensi tilted his head. "You did? When will it kick in? Is that why you left lunch? Does it take a toll on you or something?"

Keefe closed his eyes and swallowed. "You could say that. And... it's usually overnight when it kicks in."

Jensi furrowed his brows and studied his hands. "I don't feel any different. What was it?"

Keefe leaned against one of the lockers for support. He could already feel his knees shaking.

"Yeah. Before I tell you this text bit, can you promise me to keep this a secret? My ability can be mentioned at the lunch table. But this... you can't tell anyone. I got permission to tell you this as long as you can keep quiet. Can you do that?"

Jensi nodded.

"Ok," Keefe continued. "Yesterday, when I touched your hand, it felt... hallow. Empty. I've felt this twice before that. When I touched Rex's hand.... and Kesler's."

"But... Kesler never manifested."

"I know."

"But Rex..."

"I know."

Realization set heavy into Jensi's usually happy demeanor. He bit his lip hard.

"So your telling me... I'm talentless?"

"I'm so sorry. I wish I knew how to control this ability, and I thought I did, but-"

"It's ok," Jensi cut Keefe of from his downward spiral. His chin wobble. "I... had a feeling this was coming. Usually if you haven't manifested by level four, your not going to. I've just been waiting for them to finally give up on me and pull my classes."

Keefe nodded solemnly.

"I'm gonna head to lunch," Jensi told him. Keefe could feel the broken truth in his eyes even with his empathy screwed. "Are you coming?"

Keefe chewed his lip. "I'll be there in bit. You go ahead, I'll meet you there."

Jensi nodded and took a breath before heading back down to the lunch room.

Keefe went into the bathroom. He splashed his face with water. When he looked back at his reflection in the mirror, he could hardly recognize himself.

He was sixteen. But the heavy bags under his slightly crazed eyes mixed with his unusual palor made him look like an ancient. When he ran a hand through his hair to try and refresh its usual fluffynes, he half expected sharp points on his ears to poke through the blonde.

This wasn't a life he wanted to live.

He'd go straight to the Shores of Solace after school to look through the remainder of Ro's microbe stash, he'd decided. He already knew there was slumberry tea in the kitchen. He'd go out to the patio on the swing out by the ocean, somewhere quiet and peaceful, and do it there.

The end of the day rolled around. Keefe tried his best to separate from his friends to get to the leap master alone. Just when he thought he was in the clear, Sophie seemed to have materialized behind him.

"Keefe, where you going?" She asked him.

"I'm just going to get something from my dad's," he responded a little too quickly.

Foster's face fell. "You're not... leaving again, are you?"

She thought he was running away again. But... it was better for her to think that. She'd never let him out of her sight if she knew what he was planning to do. She cared for him. Way more than he knew he deserved. This was just another way he was letting her down.

Was he selfish for this?

Maybe.

But he wanted nothing to with his mom's plan. And he wanted nothing to do with these abilities. All of the secrets he was keeping from his friends would die with him.

This would be the one smart move he'd make in this game of life and death.

Making sure none of the information he had would live on and had the chance of slipping free. Making sure no more people's lives were ruined.

"I'll be back." Keefe leaned down and kissed her forehead, taking a moment to drink in her warmth as she wrapped her arms around him. "Promise."

A lie.

Like all of the other things he told her after coming back home. What was new.

But he found peace in knowing it would be last one he'd ever tell her.

One more thing bubbled in the back of his mind. One thing, if he didn't know what he was about to do, he would probably come to regret.

"I love you, Sophie." He closed his eyes, too afraid to see the look on her face.

"Keefe," her almost angelic voice rang out. Her hand ruffled through his hair, eventually coaxing his eyes open.

Her's were filled with tears.

"Please don't go again," she begged. "We're supposed to be team, remember?"

Her hand moved from his hair to cupping the side of his face. He couldn't help but lean into her touch, resting his hand atop hers.

"I have to go." Tears quickly welled in his eyes. When he blinked, they slid down his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

Sophie brushed them away with her thumb. She closed her eyes for a couple moments. Her eyebrows scrunched together.

When she opened them back up, they were almost pleading. "Come to Havenfeild. Just for the night. To make a plan. To help you pack." She paused for a breath, a fresh batch of tears brewing in her gorgeous gold flecked eyes. "Please?"

Keefe swallowed. "Ok."

He'd go through the motions. And then he could get back with his original plan.

Foster hooked her arm through his, pulling him into the beam of light to Havenfeild. As soon as they glittered into the pastures, Sophie turned and tackled him with a bone crushing hug.

"Keefe Sencen, I swear," she warned, "If you kill yourself I am going to murder you."

Keefe's jaw went slack. "How did you-"

"I read your mind," she admitted. She pulled back to look him straight in the eyes, keeping a firm, almost painful, grip on both his biceps to keep him from twisting from her grip. "I'm sorry, I truly am, but I had a feeling I needed to. And I'm glad I did."

She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down. "People care about you, Keefe. I love you," she whispered.

Keefe felt his throat become thick. He had to clear it several times before answering, "But that isn't why I'm doing this." He tried to pull away. "This is because of my abilities."

Sophie yanked him right on back down to her. She cradled his head down on her shoulder. Resigning to his predicimen, he buried his face into her neck. He inhaled the soft scent of her panakes perfume, giving him flashbacks to the clearing in The Grove. It only succeeded in making his heart heavy.

"We'll figure something out. I promise," she whispered.

"And how many people will I hurt in the meantime? I can't do this anymore, Foster," his voice cracked. The pitiful sound made way for the gut wrenching sobs that wracked his body. "I! Can't! Do! This! Ok?"

Sophie held him tighter to her. She carefully lowered them down to the soft grass. She kissed his shoulder.

His own cries of mental anguish drowned out any of the other noises of the world. Slowly the sobs slowed into hiccups and whimpered. However, not by his own accord.

Soon a warmth filled it's place. Like the crackling of a fire on a cold winter night. Brightening up the chilling darkness. Comforting his aching soul.

Was Sophie... inflicting on him? Positive emotions, that is.

She untangled herself from him to look him in his icy blue eyes. "Hey. Can you talk to me now?"

He wiped at his eyes, nodding.

"Swear to me, Keefe. Swear to me that you won't even consider doing that again before talking to me. Before we can actually come up with a plan to help you."

He looked away, ashamed with his awnser. "I can't-"

"No, Keefe!" She snapped, startling him with her tone. "Swear. Swear on Silveny's life!"

Keefe squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips. He tried very his best to mean it when he awnsered, "I swear."

He'd try. He'd try his absolute hardest. For her. She deserved that much.

She must've been able to tell he meant it. That or she was reading his mind again. Either way, she pulled his face closer and kissed him. He melted at her touch.

This. This feeling was worth living for. If nothing else, this.

This amazing girl in front of him cared for him like no other person did. He'd do everything in his power to fight off the dark thoughts deep in his head.

For Sophie.

She finally broke away. She studied him for a minute.

"Come on," she told him. "Let's go inside and get comfortable. There should still be some mallowmelt left if I recall."

Keefe pulled himself to his feet and started to follow her in. Just as they entered the threshold, she turned back and smiled at him.

"It will be ok," she whispered.

And funny enough, he believed it.

#unraveled spoilers #tw: suidcidial ideation #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc keefe sencen #kotlc sophie foster #sokeefe #kotlc jensi #kotlc secret santa 2024 #fanfic #Spotify

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harpersdragons · 1 day ago

Text

Theft in the Family, Chapter 7

This is the final chapter, and I’m a little sad it’s over. This was fun to write, definitely one of my favorites.

Words: 3448

The rest of the weekend passes peacefully. Jason and Damian run out to grab some groceries—dressing in old league gear, since he guarantees the Bats will still be looking for him. League gear is still conspicuous, to the Bats and civilians alike, but the hope was Gotham is weird enough most people wouldn’t bat an eye.

They spend the rest of their time in peace at the small cabin, reading (he’d picked up another book or two as well) and just generally taking a rest day.

By the end of the night, Jason felt suitably relaxed—despite the bone-deep exhaustion. He still hadn’t slept near enough in the past couple of days.

Jason is cleaning up the kitchen—making sure everything is in order so they can leave early in the morning—when he feels Damian lightly tug at his sleeve.

“What’s up, Habibi?”

“You are coming with me tomorrow, correct?”

Jason glances down, seeing Damian’s wide, hopeful eyes. He smiles softly. “Well, I have to take you there, don’t I? You can’t get all the way there by yourself.”

“No, you are coming in with me, you are staying.”

Jason sighs and crouches down to level with him. “Dames, I can’t stay, we’ve been over this. Bruce doesn’t want me. Even if he did, I’ve made too many mistakes. I’ve killed, hell, I took you from him. He’s not gonna let me back in his home.”

Damian stares at him consideringly, his green eyes narrowing in thought. “Well if that’s the case, he doesn’t want me either.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ve killed! My body count is almost as high as yours!”

And if that doesn’t make Jason despair for this child—

“It’s different, bud. You were, are, a child. You didn’t have a choice. I, on the other hand…” He trails off, staring at some point of Damian’s shoulder.

He doesn’t regret his decisions, not really.

Crime Alley will only respond to one thing: more violence.

It’s taken over so completely, simply following the Bat’s plan and locking criminals away and hoping for reform, it would never work.

The only way to change Crime Alley is to fight fire with fire. The gang leaders, the instigators of the violence, speak one language. He must respond in kind.

He has to protect the innocents there, the ones who are stuck in the vicious cycle.

He gives chances to those who deserve it.

He protects the kids, the ones who are cast aside by the rest of society as worthless, just because they are from Crime Alley.

He became who he needed when he was a kid.

So no, he doesn’t regret it.

He does miss his family. He regrets that his decisions have severed any connection he might have been able to have.

Though, some may argue that his death had already done that.

Or before that, when Bruce flat out told him he’s not Jason’s father.

Jason does not have a family.

Not anymore.

Except Damian.

Jason shakes himself back to his conversation. “I can try, kid, but I can’t guarantee it’ll go well. I can’t guarantee I’ll stay longer than brunch.”

Damian brightens, ducks in for a quick hug, and then darts off. Jason smiles to himself as he gets back to cleaning.

He wants to get to the manor early, early enough no one but Alfred will be awake.

It’s not until much later that night, when he’s laying in bed unable to sleep, that the reality sinks in of what he just agreed to.

He just agreed to turn himself in.

He’s turning himself in, in a couple hours, to the man who can—and probably will—lock him in Arkham.

He’s agreed to submit himself to the rejection, to the pain of being told he’s not family, of seeing his family lock him in a cell, in the same building as his murderer.

He takes a shaky breath, looking down at Damian’s still form. The kid isn’t in a cuddly mood, so he’s curled up on the other side of the bed.

He’ll do it. He’ll do anything for Damian, but the weight of knowing what’s about to happen settles in him, makes it impossible to sleep.

He spends the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, counting down until they have to leave.

Brunch is at 11, but everyone will start waking up and filtering into the kitchen around ten. Alfred will start preparing food around 8:30 or nine. Jason will probably aim to be there at seven, so they should leave around 6:30 if they’re taking the (stolen) car.

Jason prods Damian out of bed at promptly six in the morning, having been out of bed himself for a while and making breakfast. He guides the sleepy kid to the kitchen, cleaning up his mess as Damian eats. Before they leave, Jason methodically puts his gear and weapons on. Bruce may have an idea of who he is, but that doesn’t mean he has to confirm it.

By the time they get to the manor, Damian is nearly asleep again. He ends up picking Damian up and carrying him to the door, steeling himself before knocking.

He’s had hours to come to terms with his fate.

He’ll survive, Arkham is a revolving door. If he gets locked up, he can break out.

He takes one more steadying breath before the door opens, and Alfred stands before him. The older man’s face softens as he takes in Damian practically asleep on Jason’s shoulder. He ushers the two indoors, shutting the door behind them.

Jason makes to walk straight to the kitchen, only to be stopped by Alfred’s raised eyebrow. “Now I know you remember our weapons rule, Master Jason. Kindly disarm and leave your weapons on the table.”

He did remember. However, walking into the kitchen and facing the Bats completely weaponless is the last thing he wants to do right now.

“Sorry, Alfie.” Jason sets Damian down, then begins unstrapping all his obvious weapons—that is to say, only his swords and guns, and maybe one additional knife. Maybe he can get away with a few concealed ones.

Alfred clears his throat just as Jason steps away. “Am I to expect this is all you’re carrying right now?”

Jason turns back sheepishly, though most of his expression is covered by his mask. “Yeah?”

Alfred pins him with an unimpressed look. “Hm. I expect at least 5 more weapons on that table.”

Jason deflates, and takes out a few more knives. That’s most of what he’s carrying, he has a few darts and shurikens, plus an additional switchblade, but that’s not near enough to be comfortable.

“Hm.” Alfred finally turns and heads towards the kitchen, gently guiding Damian along. “Ideally you’d lose that suit too, but I suppose that’s too much to ask. I hope you aren’t expecting a fight, because I’d hate for the kitchen to need remodeling.”

“They don’t know my identity yet.”

“And so the full suit is required?” Alfred leads Damian into the living room, quietly instructing the child to lay down on the couch.

“Alfie…” Jason’s heart rate picks up at Damian leaving his line of sight, but he doesn’t protest. And yes, the full suit is required.

“Fine, fine. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”

“Tell that to the Old Man…” Jason mutters.

“Now I know I taught you to speak clearly, young man.”

Jason clears his throat, then speaks up, “Nothing. Sorry, Alfie.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Do you want help preparing the crepes?”

“That would be lovely, my boy, it has been far too long since I had competent help in the kitchen.”

Jason smiles under his mask, and carefully sheds his gloves and cloak, leaving them on a chair. Alfred’s eyes catch on his mangled fingertips—side effect from digging his way out of the pine box—but they move on quickly.

It’s easy to fall into a rhythm with Alfred again, and it’s not long before they have the crepes prepared and all that’s left are toppings. He smirks as he makes Bruce’s plate, throwing the butter and lemon on haphazardly, then carefully sprinkling the sugar in a distinctive outline.

Alfred frowns disapprovingly at him, but otherwise doesn’t say anything. Jason sets the plate at the head of the table, where Bruce has sat as long as Jason has known him, and returns to help Alfred with the rest of the plates.

He takes a lot more care with his brother’s plate—despite Dick’s monstrosity of a topping choice—especially Damian’s. He painstakingly picks out all the blueberries from the fruit mixture, much to Alfred’s amusement.

Damian wanders in as they finish laying out the plates, coming straight to Jason and burying his face in his side. Jason wraps one arm around his shoulders as he helps Alfred clean up.

Bruce comes in next, heading straight to the coffee machine and almost tripping over Damian.

Jason scoops his brother up and glares at Bruce, grumbling as he retreats out of his way. It takes a laughable amount of time for Bruce to become aware of the additional people in his kitchen.

He’s been leaning against the counter, practically glaring at his coffee, before he seems to startle and realize Jason’s standing across from him with Damian on his hip. Bruce directs his glare at Jason, and snatches Damian from his grasp—attempts to, anyway. Damian tightens his grip on Jason’s neck and lets out a muffled whine at being pulled away.

“Back off, jackass.” Jason growls. “I brought him back, take what you can get.”

“Language, Master Ja—” Alfred’s voice is sharp as the reprimand cuts off.

Bruce’s gaze sharpens as he glances from Alfred to Jason.

“What is going on here?”

“Your son has been returned to you, safe and sound, Master Bruce. Focus on that and go sit down.”

Bruce’s demeanor sours further, somehow, and he sulks over to his chair.

Jason rubs Damian’s back gently. “Time to wake up, kid, it’s almost time for brunch.” Damian shakes his head, trying to burrow deeper into Jason’s hold. “C’mon, you love crepes. There are no blueberries, I promise.”

Damian makes a huffing sound, but doesn’t move.

“Work with me here, Habibi, they’re gonna think I drugged you.”

“Well if I wasn’t before, now I am.” Bruce interrupts.

That finally gets a reaction out of Damian, who shoves out of Jason’s grip and flips to the floor. He levels a scathing glare at his father, a near perfect imitation of Bruce’s own glare. He doesn’t say a word as he takes a seat at the table, eyeing the bowl of blueberries set out suspiciously.

Jason chuckles as he crosses the room, ruffling his brother’s hair. “I made sure there were no blueberries on yours.”

“Tt.”

Bruce glances from his plate, to Alfred, and finally to Jason.

“You are Jason.”

“For fuck’s sake, can we not?”

Bruce sighs, all traces of anger dissipating. He pushes out of his chair and steps towards Jason until they’re nose to nose. “Take your mask off.”

Jason raises his chin, refusing to back down. “No.”

“Jason…”

“No. You don’t get to boss me around, Old Man. I’m pretty sure you have a few other birds around here that just looveee taking orders. I did my time.” Jason almost flinched at the words coming out of his own mouth. That sounded too close to reminding Bruce he should be locked up.

“Robin,” Bruce growls. “Take off your mask.”

Jason does flinch this time. “The fuck? I’m not fuckin’ Robin!” He shoves at Bruce’s chest, trying to create space between them.

Bruce goes easily, his posture softening. “My robin, my son. Always.”

Jason tilts his head, watching Bruce for a second. Then he turns and walks out the backdoor, into the garden. He keeps walking, heading deeper into the woods surrounding the property. At some point, he stops and hoists himself into a tree.

Fuck Bruce.

Fuck them all.

Except Damian, of course, but that was obvious.

How can Bruce call him son now?

How, when he refused to acknowledge Jason was his son before he died?

Jason’s not a Wayne now, maybe never was, but he’s not the boy he was when he died. Whatever he is now, he’s just the monster that crawled out of the grave.

Jason picks at a thread in his pants, staring absently into the distance. At some point, he hears Bruce calling his name and looks down. He’s standing under the tree, looking pleadingly up at Jason.

“Fuck off.”

“Jason, please, can we talk about this?”

Jason doesn’t answer, petulantly ignoring Bruce. He doesn’t know how long he sits in his tree, but eventually he’s dragged out of his head by a sickening cracking sound. He stiffens, trying to minimize his movement, while also looking for a way to grab another branch.

He can’t find one, and just as the branch gives way underneath him, Jason pushes off and tucks into a roll as lands.

A hand grabs his arm and yanks, and Jason prepares for the fight, readies himself for blows. He swings, but another arm pins his hands to his sides and tugs him into Bruce’s chest. Jason struggles for a second, before he goes lax. Bruce shifts his grip, letting Jason’s arms go. One of his arms comes up to clutch at Jason’s head, the other wrapping firmly around his waist.

Jason buries his face in his father’s shoulder, arm’s gripping desperately at his soft sleep shirt.

“Sh…Jaylad, I got you. No need for apologies, you’re alright.”

Jason didn’t even know he was speaking, let alone mumbling ‘I’m sorry’ repeatedly into Bruce’s shoulder.

After a bit, Bruce tugs gently at Jason’s hair, pulling his head back enough to make eye contact. “Can I take your masks off?”

Jason shrugs, averting his gaze. “Might as well.”

Bruce carefully unlatches the half mask, then peels the domino off. His thumbs skate over Jason’s cheeks, tears brimming in his eyes. “You’re home.” His voice is soft, reverent.

Something in Jason breaks a little, and he dives back into his father’s hold.

“Just…just don’t put me next to him. Please.” Jason doesn’t know if Bruce heard him, or understood him with the way his face is pressed into his neck.

He can feel Bruce tense under him.

Shit, shit, shit, he shouldn’t have asked, shouldn’t have reminded him—

“What?” Bruce tries to pull him back again, but Jason resists, gripping him tighter. “What are you talking about, Jay?’

“In Arkham…preferably you’d put me in Blackgate or somethin’, but just…just don’t put me next to the clown. Please.” Jason’s voice cracks and gets thicker with the tears in his eyes.

Bruce inhales sharply, “No, no, I’m not locking you up. I just got you back, sweetheart, what makes you think I’d willingly lose you again?” He tightens his grip, lowering them to the ground.

Jason grips even tighter, fighting against the tears and the sobs trying to break out. “You…you didn’t want me…”

“I do, I do, Jay, Sweetheart. I promise, you are welcome here. I want you to stay here with us. Why do you think I don’t?”

“You said you weren’t my father, and then I died, and I’m not that same boy, and you didn’t even want him, so how could you want me?”

“I messed up big time, then, but I promise you. You are my son, and I want you here. You understand? I don’t care how much you’ve changed, you came back. I will always be grateful for that.”

They stay like that for a while, and eventually Alfred comes out to get them.

“While I’m glad you two have worked out your differences, without bloodshed, might I add, the food has long since gone cold, and I must insist you come inside.”

They both stand together, Jason’s masks dangling from one of Bruce’s hands. The other arm is wrapped tightly around his son’s shoulders. They enter the kitchen together, and Dick and Tim have finally made their way downstairs. Dick is happily munching on his spinach and pesto monstrosity of a crepe.

Damian gets out of his seat and comes over to them, glancing from Jason’s tear stained face to Bruce’s. “You’re upset.”

Jason tugs him closer, “I’m good, kid, I promise.” C’mon, let’s go eat.” Jason and Bruce take their seats, and Jason feels true peace, for the first time in a very long time.

After, once the kitchen is clean and everyone’s moved to the family room, and Jason has taken off his armor and stripped to his undersuit, he asks Bruce how he found out who he was. Everyone’s sprawled out on various furniture, Dick is aggressively cuddling Damian. He’d mouthed at Jason to let him know he was next, but he’s not too worried. He can always tickle him to get him off. Jason is half laying on Bruce, letting his dad hold him again.

“It was a bunch of little things. The way you spoke, the way you protected Damian. I could see your influence on Damian’s mannerisms, plus he had your book, that I thought for sure was lost in Ethiopia. You called me Old Man, your reactions are the same. It just took me a second to put it together. The final straw, though, was the crepes. Alfred would never let them look that sloppy, especially not when everyone else’s were perfect. And you wrote out ‘FU’ in sugar, Jay, it was pretty obvious.” Bruce hugged him closer. “Alfred would never, and the list of people he allows in the kitchen is short. My very hurt, very angry son being one of them, well, he would.”

Jason let his head fall on Bruce’s shoulder, slumping down into his father.

“I don’t think I can stay here all the time. I don’t know if I can stand to stay here at all.”

Bruce sighs, “That’s ok, but you have a room here if you ever want it.”

“I want Damian some weekends. I can’t just leave him.”

“He has to have some stability, Jay, we can’t uproot his life all the time.”

“I refuse to leave him behind!” Jason struggles to sit up, his outburst drawing the attention of the others in the room.

“Then visit him here!”

“You don’t get full custody of him! I practically raised him! If you don’t agree, I’ll just randomly kidnap him.” He crosses his arms stubbornly.

“I would let him, Father.” Damian pipes up.

Bruce just sighs. “Fine. We can talk about it. Later.” He tugs Jason back into his arms, “I seem to remember saying you haven’t been sleeping. Time to remedy that.”

Jason huffs. “I’m fine, asshole. Not even tired.”

That’s a bold faced lie, but they don’t need to know that.

Bruce pins him with a disbelieving look. “Right. And I’m Superman.”

Dick snorts, “You wish.”

“Not helping, Dick.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

“Come on, Jay, just take a nap. You’re safe here, Damian’s safe here.”

Jason deflates, “Maybe a little one. But I have to leave soon!”

“How did you get here?” Tim asks.

“The car? Did y’all not notice it or something?”

“Car? What car?” Dick sits up, almost letting go of Damian. “Wait. You stole the car?”

“Y’mean my car? Yeah, I took it. Security was shit, by the way. It was super easy to get in here.”

“You had Barbara’s help.” Dick deadpans.

Bruce smiles at his kids, watching them bicker.

“Same difference.”

“Better not let her hear you say that.” Tim contributes.

“Anyway. Yeah, I took my car.” Jason leans back, further into Bruce. (Sue him, the man is comfortable). “Oh, B, one more thing.” He twists to face his father.

“Yeah, Jaylad?” The look on Bruce’s face is stupidly fond.

“Do not put Damian in the Robin suit until he is at least—and I mean the very minimum age—14. 16 is preferable. He can train, I don’t give a shit, he’s gonna do that anyway. But if you let him in the field, I’m shooting you and taking him with me.”

“Hey, I was Robin at eight!” Dick glares at Jason.

“Yeah and look how you turned out.” Jason glares right back. “I mean it, Bruce.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, besides, Tim is Robin until he decides for himself that he’s done with it.”

“Good.”

WIth that, Jason relaxes and lets himself doze off, surrounded by family, and totally at peace. There’s still a lot to work out, but for now, it’s enough. Damian is out of the League’s hands, Jason was somehow welcomed home, everyone is content. It’s better than he could have imagined.

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