#i had like the worst stomach ache but my hands wouldn't stop

[lobeliaprince]

HAPPY HAWWOWEEN i finished umineko recently

[bigenergy777]

I Hate You~Liam Dunbar

WARRING: Cussing,P-in-V Sex,Hate Sex

It was nearly impossible to find a hotel this late at night with rooms available, but we were lucky—until Scott revealed Liam and I would be sharing a room.

"You have to be kidding, right? I glare at Liam and yell, "There's no way I'm sharing a room with him."

"Listen, I understand it's not ideal, but we have no choice. Scott sighs, "It's one night you'll both be fine."

Liam complains, "This is going to be the worst night of my life."

"Oh my god, I'm done listening to the two of you." Let's head to our rooms and leave early in the morning," says Stiles.

Liam and I keep giving each other glares as everyone nods. After arriving at our room, unlocking the door, and setting all of our stuff down, there was only silence.

"I'm going to change."

"Good for you," Liam murmurs.

I changed into shorts and a basic t-shirt. When I walk out, I can feel Liam's gaze moving over my entire body. He has changed, too, and he's not wearing a shirt. I decided not to say anything about it.

I sighed as I climbed into bed, already irritated by how much room Liam was taking up.

"Move over for fuck sakes, and stay on your side," I scoffed.

"Trust me, I don't want to be any closer to you than I need to." He scoffed back.

Liam gives me another quick glance before he moves over, switches off the lamp, and settles in.

I turn with my back to him and try to nod off.

I woke up to Liam's body right against mine and his hand on my hip, not realizing how much time had passed.

How the hell are we in this position at all?

"You wouldn't stop moving your fucking hips, and I was freezing, so I moved over," he complains, obviously sensing that I had woken up.

"Okay, there's no reason for the fucking attitude." I scoffed

"Maybe if you weren't basically grinding against my dick and giving me a hard on, I wouldn't have to give attitude," he responds.

Suddenly, my breath caught in my throat as I became fully aware of his dick pressing against my ass.

I mumble, "Sounds like a problem," relieved that it was dark and he couldn't see the blush that had formed on my cheeks.

"Keep it up, and you'll be a whimpering mess beneath me," he responds.

That one sentence was all it took for me to start experiencing pain in the space between my legs.

"What, not another snarky return? Too shaken up by my words?" He questions.

"Fuck off and let me go back to sleep," I complained, not wanting to acknowledge that I was being affected by him.

I sigh as his hand slides under my shorts and rubs my clit in circles.

I felt his fingers go to my entrance and make circles around it, so I spread my legs wider.

"I-Liam." I whimper.

“Tell me what you need, baby.”

I beg, "Stop teasing," my body aching for his fingers to be inside me.

"Mm, but you sound so good begging for me, like a needy slut," he responds.

"Please, I need it," I beg once more as his teasing drives me crazy.

"I always knew you were a little slut." He curls two fingers, hitting that special spot deep inside of me.

"Oh my god," I moan.

He says something I can't hear because I'm too busy feeling good and because the knot in my stomach is getting bigger.

"Are you listening to me?" He asks, bringing me back to the present moment as he grabs my face, turns it to face him, and removes his fingers.

"I- what? What are you doing? Why did you stop?” I stammer, frustrated that his fingers aren't inside of me.

With a growl, he reaches for my neck and squeezes, saying, "God, you need to learn how to fucking listen."

"I said you're going to ride me so I can see how good of a slut you can be."

"Fuck, yeah, okay." I moaned

His dick shot out and smacked his stomach as I watched him shuffling to take off his boxers and pajamas.

"Take your shirt off." He yelled as he watched me take it off, and then he took both of my breasts and played with my nipples.

"Please.” I beg

"Please what?" He asked back.

"Please let me ride you. I need you." I cry out.

I watch as his hand moves and he spits on it, then begins to jerk off.

"I don’t know. I could just keep getting myself off watching you instead," he replies.

I choke out, almost mesmerized by the way his hand moves up and down. My pussy throbbing for him.

"Liam, fuck, come on."

With a smirk, he says, "So needy, hop on."

I moved so he was facing my entrance and started to lower myself, wincing as his size caused my pussy to stretch.

"You can take it. "Don't act like you can't," he commands.

With my hands supporting his lower abdomen, he growls out as he fully enters me.

My pace fastened, moving up and down as I went. I saw his eyes follow my body up and down several times.

"Fuck me, you really are a little slut." He moans.

"So fucking tight."

I whimper, "Feels—feels so good."

Liam is starting to push his hips up, matching my pace and meeting mine every time I lower myself again, which only makes me more and more satisfied.

"Liam, fuck, I'm going to come," I moan as his dick hits my g-spot, sending a chill down my spine.

"Hold it, not yet," he responds.

"What?" I whine

"You're going to wait till I do." He groans and thrusts his hips more forcefully.

"I can't hold it."

"You can and you will."

I let out a whimper and leaned back, doing everything within me to follow his orders.

It was almost too much for me to handle, as I felt his dick slamming into me.

"Oh, I'm coming. Fuck, fuck. Liam growls, his eyes tightly shut, as I feel him release into me.

The sight of him only makes it more difficult to resist. "Don't think about stopping," he says.

"Please," I pleaded, not sure that I could even contain myself for another moment.

"Such a slut, needing to come so badly," he grumbles. "Come for me."

My legs quickly grow weak as pleasure consumes my body, and I let out moans as my climax takes over.

"That was.”

"Amazing," he finished.

"I've never doubted for a second that I could have you begging for me."

"Jesus Christ, you couldn't just not be cocky for 5 minutes?" I groaned.

"Nope, it's in my nature." He shrugs

"Fuck, you're so annoying," I respond.

"You didn't seem to think I was annoying when you were screaming my name and begging to come," he grinned.

"You are now," I answer.

"Just wait. I’ll have you begging for me all over again.

[paperpepperfrog]

Keep quiet, rotten brain!

The morning was terrible. His back ached from the awkward sleeping position, his brain felt funny, buzzing and heavy, the dryness in his mouth was complemented by the taste of not the freshest slop. A bright light was shining in his eyes, an empty bottle was rustling somewhere under his feet.

Pharma groaned quietly, leaning over the side of the open cabin and feeling how bile and the remains of yesterday's dinner were rising in his throat. In vain he decided that it would be a good idea for him to drink a liter of far from the weakest alcohol in a day. As his consciousness lazily noted, he was almost close to a lethal dose - and my God, he regretted that he did not take a larger bottle, maybe if he died, it would be easier.

This was undoubtedly his worst day off in the last couple of months. Perhaps even a decade.

He cleared his throat and wiped it with the sleeve of his surgical gown - what's wrong? - tears welling up in his eyes, the doctor leaned back on the armrest of his chair.

So strange and funny, why is he in a helicopter? This isn't even a medical service vehicle, this is...

- Organics are funny.

A slightly creaky and metallic-sounding voice mixed with mirth sounded out of nowhere. Well, that's what it seemed. An incomprehensible accent slightly scratched his ears, but who cares about accents these days?

Pharma raised his head.

The yellow eyepiece in the black mouth of the turquoise box on his thick neck squinted mockingly (??? What the hell ???) at the scream of the man who almost fell overboard. A claw the size of Pharma himself grabbed the man by the collar with micrometer precision and held him in a half-hovering (Oh my God, the ground is at least ten meters away) state, holding the organic again, clearing his stomach and coughing heart-rendingly.

- ...And loud. Ugh, how did you fit that in, that's disgusting. Can't your fuel tanks process alcohol?

Fragments of last night came back to me with difficulty. Yellow optics mistaken for Shockwave and a stream of complaints and reports with a disgusting smell. But wait, the Shockwave-or-no mech wasn't supposed to... Be able to talk?

Oh, shit.

It's AN alien.

Like the thing that brought Jazz back to base after he went missing.

Like the other red-and-white, talkative thing they were studying in Delta.

This thing looked even weirder than the first mech blueprints - WAY FUCKING STRANGER.

– What are you gaping at? Yeah, I'm awesome, I won't argue. - It's laughing. Damn it, it's laughing and Pharma is sure that the sound will make his head explode. - Although last time you didn't even deign to say hello. You just whined and screamed endlessly about how shitty your boss is and how sick you are of the eternal deaths at your hands. It sounds crazy, I like it.

The claws grabbed the man more comfortably, holding him by the torso. At that moment, Pharma undoubtedly regretted that he decided to drink himself into unconsciousness. The blue sky definitely wanted to kill him - and he even knows how it should be. His hands treacherously stopped obeying and it was very easy to imagine that these sharp claws would slam shut, dividing him into two equal halves.

- I had to run and shoot, so that you wouldn't be returned to the "terrible job" for the "psychopath with delusional ideas and delusions of grandeur" ha-ha-ha. — The alien narrowed his eyes and stretched his neck. Whoever designed this creature was a genius - metal shouldn't be able to express emotions THAT way! Especially with limited facial functions! — The name is Whirl. And you?

Pharma is no longer sure - should he be surprised that this thing has a name?

Mecha au by @keferon

2/???

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] Love's Cleaning Time - Part 4

Part 3

Gilbert: What's wrong, little rabbit?

I take Gilbert's hand, which was resting on my cheek, and held it in mine.

Emma: Even so, thank you very much.

Gilbert: ......

Gilbert: You're not listening to me at all, are you?

Emma: This is my thanks after having listened to you.

Gilbert: You're forgiving my evil deeds.

Emma: …… It may be an outrageous thing to say, but……

Emma: The important thing is, "how do I perceive it now", isn't it?

I let go of his cold hand and pick up the report that Gilbert was holding. The detailed contents might be frightening to some people.

(Even I wouldn't have been able to accept this so readily in the past.)

Emma: If Michael hadn't been there at that time, I would have been attacked by bandits.

Emma: At best, I would have only had my books stolen, but at worst, I could have died.

Emma: Whatever the circumstances, Gil saved me.

Emma: Whether that was out of malice or good will …… it's up to me to decide.

Gilbert: .....

Emma: More than anything, I've come to like Gil now.

Emma: It might be difficult for me to see it as malice like I used to.

(Gilbert occasionally warns me like this so that I can keep a normal perspective.)

(…… I think he's a fair person.)

Gilbert: Haha, you poor thing.

Gilbert: But…… I'm glad you don't hate me.

(……!)

Gilbert gently brushed my hand away and stood up.

Gilbert: Let's stop chatting for now.

Gilbert: Emma, you can throw that away.

Emma: Even though it was kept so carefully?

Gilbert: Yeah, I don't need it anymore.

Gilbert: The poor little rabbit is now being directly monitored by the villain.

(That's true, too.)

(...)

(Even if I become his fiancée, I won't be able to understand everything about Gilbert's heart.)

(But…… I feel like I understand what he's thinking at this moment.)

Emma: Gil.

I put the report on the shelf and hug Gilbert with enough force to bump into him.

Gilbert: What is it?

Emma: Just to be clear, I'm not forgiving you for everything.

Emma: I sometimes can't understand Gil's evil deeds…… At those times, I'll properly object to them.

Gilbert: Oh, really?

Emma: Have you forgotten? I'm watching you so that you don't do anything bad to Rhodolite.

Emma: I'm not the only one being watched by Gil.

(I will discern my own good and evil without being swayed by Gilbert.)

(That's…… because I think that's what Gilbert expects of me the most.)

Emma: So, don't worry.

Emma: Even if I love you, I'm not that blind.

His blood-colored eyes wavered slightly––and then gently softened.

Gilbert: …… You're too much.

Gilbert: You see right through everything.

His cold hand caressed my cheek again, and his lips were sealed by the shadow that fell.

Gilbert: I was finally getting in the mood to restart cleaning.

Emma: ……Nn……Gil?

The villain didn't stop pecking at my lips, and he sensually stroked my back from my waist.

Gilbert: I don't care anymore.

Emma: ……!……The cleaning……

Gilbert: You want me to do it properly?

Emma: No……

(If he touches me like this……I don't care anymore either.)

Emma: Can we do it……tomorrow……?

The breath that escaped my lips was hot, and my body was already pleading for the cleaning to end.

Gilbert: Hahaha, you're a bad girl too, aren't you?

Emma: ……But Gil, you were the one who asked for it first.

Gilbert: Yeah, but……

Gilbert: It's your responsibility for responding to it.

-

I catch my breath as it bounces on the jet-black sheets.

Gilbert, who has me pinned down, continues to caress my skin with tantalizingly gentle touches, having taken all my clothes off.

His fingertips, which avoided touching the places I wanted to be touched and only moved around the surrounding areas, had a clear malice to them.

(...It's embarrassing to say it directly...)

Emma: Come to think of it……

Emma: Is Michael still in Rhodolite?

Gilbert: Yeah, he is.

Emma: Why…… Ah

His fingers graze the peaks of my chest, and the ache deep in my stomach intensifies.

Gilbert: Oh no, who said you were the only one I had Michael keep an eye on?

Gilbert: Actually, I asked him to watch someone else too.

(Someone else……)

(……Could it be––)

Gilbert: Haha, little rabbit. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

Emma: Eh……?

Gilbert: Thinking about another man while I'm right here in front of you.

Emma: ……The only thing I did on purpose was bring up Michael.

(I thought if I made him jealous, he might touch me more properly.)

Gilbert: Is that so? But it doesn't matter.

Gilbert: Why can you smile so gently while thinking about another man?

(I……was smiling.)

(But that's because––……)

Emma: ...Ah! Ah, nn—

Suddenly, the fingers that had been so gentle strongly stimulated a sensitive spot.

Emma: Haa... Wait... Aaa...Nn...

My body seemed to be more sensitive than usual, and honey immediately flowed between my legs.

Gilbert: That's terrible. I'm hurt.

Overwhelmed by a pleasure beyond imagination––

Just before I lost consciousness, the hand full of malice finally let go.

Gilbert: So, what exactly was that smile of yours about?

Gilbert: Depending on your answer……you understand, right?

He flicked my nipple with his finger, and a gasp escaped my lips.

Emma: Tha—Nn...That's not...true...

I force my ragged breathing to calm down and capture Gilbert's face in my blurred vision.

Emma: ...Gil is...

Emma: I just...thought you were a worrywart...

(He's extremely soft on people he's let his guard down around once.)

(...Though that sweetness can sometimes turn into malice––)

Gilbert: It can't be helped. Because in this world...

Gilbert: There are so many things that need to be cleaned up.

.

.

.

FIN

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to leave me a tip here or buy me a coffee through the "Leave a Tip" button on my navigation bar!

[sasagehoes]

MOONAGE DAYDREAM

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈; 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⭒˚☽ ✴︎˚｡⋆;; A seer, three raging homosexuals, a loose canon and a tortured poet. That, ladies and gentlemen was the perfect recipe for the ultimate muggle band, The Pantheon was not composed of a single muggle but they managed, with their impressive talent and devoted fans what could possibly go wrong?

1975-1981

masterlist | series mastelist | Ao3 link

next chapter

a/n: This takes place on the events before, during and after the wizarding war, this series is part of a series, which will tackle more of the events in the golden trio era, the reader is hispanic but i couldnt care less if you're not, this is for everyone! [translations will be given]. English is not my first language so i apologise for any grammar mistakes. I hope you enjoy!

wc: 0.8k

CW: blood/ cursing/ death and grief/ self harm / foul language.

August 17, 1966

The sound of the waves clashing with one another resonated in the distance as the two of you played in the sand. The sound of your parents giggling at the boy's antics was contagious, he fixed his crooked glasses and flashed a toothy smile your way before committing the worst kind of treason: splashing water at your face.

“James!” you reprimanded, repeating the action. He only yelped and kept splashing, not backing away. You gathered as much water as your arms could muster and threw it his way, almost jumping at him with water in tow. Thank the gods you both were in shallow waters cause if not both of you would have drowned; instead you both laughed and laughed until your stomachs ached.

His smile could brighten up any room, like the sun, paving the way to any lost soul trapped in the darkness. You had him to thank for all the things he had unknowingly helped you with just by being with you.

Your mother was crying 

Your mother had called you to have a snack, Euphemia handed you both a sandwich. He scarfed it down as fast as he could and you only laughed at his eagerness to return to the ocean. “James cálmate te vas a ahogar” Monty chuckled and wiped the crumbs off his son’s cheek. He grinned at his dad and talked his ear off until you finished and pulled your arm to go once again to the crystalline waters. {calm down James, you'll choke}

As the day ended and both of you were dried, the Potters bid your mother goodbye and James talked about how fun it will be when you visit him in Godric’s Hollow. That's when it hit you, your best friend was leaving, for good this time, even though he and your mother reassured you, he would visit and so would you, it wouldn't be the same.

The playdates would stop, the sleepovers aswell, and gods how you would miss Effys cooking, As the years passed you both exchanged letters, you didn't know why your father prhibited you and your mother to visit the Potters, but the letters sufficed. By the time you turned ten everything in your country had changed. The laws became almost impossible to follow without giving away your liberty, everyone felt trapped, and nowhere was safe for magic folk. When the effects of the war started to affect your country thats when the people started to wake up. Muggle borns started going missing, other magical creatures known for revolting started emmigrating and people who opposed the ones in charge started dropping dead like flies.

The only way your mind felt at ease was when your mother sang to you, but her voice became more hoarse as the visits to the beach became less frequent.

As the months went by the letters from your friend had stopped, you wondered if he hadn't been getting them, your mother grew more wary as the days passed for reasons you were yet to understand, and your father, well your father treated you like a mere house elf, barely paying you any mind and shunning you away like a beast.

It was when one night as your mother woke you up from your slumber that you realized all the strange behavior around house Rouge. The secret behind your mothers beautiful voice and the side of your family you had never met.

Both of you lived these days in a small rundown cottage near the beach, it was nice not having someone breathing down your neck about how you should act, being from a prestigious family and all.

Your mother would teach you the most basic magic tricks and potions, she said she would send you to an actual wizarding school soon but deep down you knew she wouldn't, too scared of what your father would do. And when the decree was passed, all hopes of ever talking to anyone else, or anyone knowing you existed - vanished.

Your mother was screaming.

You had to live with the fact that the Potters would think you were dead, James would neve- wait what? Your mother was screaming and you couldn't move.

Your eyes snapped open and you heard it, her screams they were deafening. As you saw what they were trying to do to her your mind flew to those books you had found in your family shed a couple years back, all in yellowed, aged pages filled with latin as you slowly started to translate what they hid, it clicked. Blood magic, unforgivable curses where the blood of one's enemy would be in your hands - wandless magic, but just as powerful.

The first one that came to your mind was horrible, but your mothers life was at stake - purpureus pluvia. Without another thought you limped across the living room, the gash in your head making you dizzy, the first sharp thing that you spotted you held firmly in your right hand and engraved the rune into your left hand. It stung , but as the blood rose you cast the spell and launched yourself at the man holding your mother by the throat. As the blood hit his opened wound you were bound, in control of the intruder. His body went limp as he struggled and just as your mother begged you to close your eyes as she spotted the rune you had used, it happened.

One moment his body was normal, then it started going red, capilaries and arteries popping, eye going bloodshot, throat parched and the metallic smell in the air and in a blaink of an eye, the man erupted into a rain of gore, your eyes widened at the sight, his blood was everywhere, the walls, the couch, the kitchen, everywhere. You ran to your mother as soon as your eyes dawned on her body. She mustered all her remaining strength and said

“Godric's Hollow, antes de que vuelvan” Her breath hitched one last time and her head fell. {Godric's Hollow,before they come back}

It didn't feel real, you never thought how she would've died, all you knew was that it wouldn't be like this, all bloody and broken. All the strength in your body was slowly escaping you until the voices outside of the cabin were getting closer. Her death would not be in vain. You hurried up and grabbed Floo powder and went to the floo entrance, clearly and slowly you worded the place that would free you from this waking nightmare. You only prayed their Floo was also opened

“Potters Residence, Godric’s Hollow”

December 30,1975

!! Thank you so much for getting this far. I can't wait to continue this series!! lf you'd like to be added to the taglist,let me know

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑DO NOT;; RE-UPLOAD, TRANSLATE NOR COPY MY WORKS!! This belongs to;; -SASAGEHOES

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister- I Didn’t Know

Last night I started to get these funny aches and pains in my stomach. Putting it down to my monthly arriving I ignored them after getting myself a hot water bottle and went to sleep. However I woke up about 3am in the worst pain I've ever experienced. These period pains are truly something else. Groaning I get out of bed and make my way done to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea hoping to ease the pain.

7am rolls around and I'm in agony. Aunt Polly and Tommy are now up and wondering what to do. Polly has tried everything she can think of to help with the pains, but nothing is working and the pains are just getting worse

"That's it's I'm ringing a doctor. This isn't normal"

"Yeah ok" Polly breathes out giving in, also so confused to why my pains are so bad this month. Tears are falling down my face

"Aunt Poll an I dying?" I ask

"No. Tommys going to ring the best doctor he can to come over and give you a check up"

"Poll I'm scared"

"I know, but you don't need to be, everything's going to be ok"

Within 30 minutes a doctor has arrived and had been checking me over

"Ok there's one last thing I want to check" he says taking our stethoscope

"You've already listed to her heartbeat" Tommy frowns in confusion, but the doctor proceeds to place his stethoscope on my stomach

"Aunt Poll what's he.."

"Shh" the doctor says as he listens "unbelievable. This is so rare. I've never seen this happen before"

"What? Am I dying?"

"No, your in active labour"

"I'm what?"

"She's what?" Aunt Polly, Tommy and I say all at the same time

"You had no idea you were pregnant?" The doctor asked

"I.. no. I had my monthly every month on time"

"Have you wet yourself yet?"

"Pardon?"

"He's asking if your waters have broken, but you will have wet yourself since you wouldn't have had any warning of it happening"

"No"

"Well then I think we should get you up on your feet and walking about. That should help"

"Who did this?" Tommy asks

"What?"

"Who got you pregnant. I'll fucking kill em"

"No you will not. Unless that is you were forced"

"No he was sweet, promise"

"Who..."

"Tommy let's do this later yeah? Go and ring the others let them know whats going on"

After walking around the house and my waters breaking, I was checked over and now it's time to push. Polly holds my hand while the doctor is at the other end. My brothers are all at the pup trying to figure out who the father is

"Ok next wave I need you to push"

"I can't"

"Yes you can. You can do this YN"

"I'm not ready to be a mum"

"Nobody ever is, but you heard the doctor when you feel that wave of pain you push as hard as you can" the wave of pain hits me and I push like Polly said

"Ok good. I need another big one like that ok?" the doctor says earning a nod from me. This goes on for a while until Im finally holding my baby I'm my arms. A little boy

"It's Isaiah's isn't it?" Polly sighs. I nod my head. We had been secretly courting each other for the last year now

"Toms gonna kill 'im Poll" I say worriedly

"No he's not”

Everyone's going to hate me now. Im an unmarried woman with a baby. People are racist Poll they're going to hate us all"

"Who cares what people think. I'm going to find Isaiah and bring him here to meet his son and I'm going to stop your brothers from drinking themselves silly"

Isaiah came over to meet his son, while Polly does damage control with my brothers. When they come over they are a lot calmer that I expect them to be. I guess Aunt Polly can me very scary when she wants to be

"So what's little lads name?" Arthur asks through gritted teeth

"Walter Shelby Jesus" I smile looking down at the newborn

"I'll ask Esme where the kids old clothes are"

"Thanks John" I give him a little smile

"So when's the wedding?" Tommy asks

"Tommy not now" Polly scolds shaking her head "let them be for now. Right come on let's leave them alone"

"That's how they go into this mess" Arthur mumbles

"Out now. Come on" Polly usurers everyone out of the room leaving Isaiah and I to fall in love with our baby.

[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing- Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW,Angst,Fluff,Tension, Confrontation,Mechanical Bull riding ( it needs its own warning)

WK-4.2k

A/N- Thank you for being so patient with me. I love you all, this is the reason I wrote this series and I can’t wait for your reactions.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter V

Frankie’s fingers tap idly against the black phone screen. There were things he needed to do today but he couldn’t take his mind off the fact that he hadn’t heard from you. Or Dave. It doesn’t matter, he shouldn’t be angry or jealous, but he is. There’s an unsettling rage building inside him at the thought of not having you first. It’s not fair and at the same time it should be him. He told you himself you don’t belong to anyone but that’s not true. You belong to him and Dave may have stolen his opportunity. You and your perfect smile,your honey sweet demeanor and your soft hands. The perfume and scent of you that he hasn’t been able to rid himself of since that day he met you. Had Dave been anything other than what he was he wouldn't have blamed him. They’re no weak men, but when it comes to you it seems men make stupid decisions. 

The man is willing to risk his entire career and reputation to have you. He’ll gladly throw it all away and never help another soul just to say that he found someone that eases that ache in his chest, fills the gaps where the pain seeps through. Reminds them they still know how to smile and enjoy the sunset. 

  Worst of all Frankie admits that if the roles were reversed he would likely do the same thing. 

  Your name flashes on the Lock Screen and he immediately answers, cursing himself slightly for seeming desperate. 

  “One ring, that’s impressive.” You laugh as he groans on the other end. 

  “I was holding my phone and I must have accidentally…-you know what…I’m not gonna lie I was excited to see your name, I’ve been dying to talk to you since I left.”He’s definitely out of practice with this whole dating and flirting. 

  A brief pause and your voice comes in a little lower. “I wanted to call you last night.” 

  “You should have.” 

  He hopes you can hear the pride in his voice knowing you still thought about him despite your date. 

  “So…how was your date?” He shuffles uncomfortably on the couch trying to sound as supportive as possible. 

  You sigh deep contemplating. “Do you really want to know? Or are you just being the most polite man in the world.?” 

  “A mixture of both I guess.” 

  “Well, honestly I had a great time. I’m sure that’s not what you want to hear but he was a perfect gentleman.” You clear your throat like you want to say more as he grits his teeth thinking about Dave. “I’m not sure where to go from here.” 

  You mindlessly play with the stray fabric on Alicia’s quilt having slept in her empty bed last night. 

  “Tell me your thoughts hermosa, I’m all ears.” 

  Your stomach does a flip at the pet name and the thought of having to explain your unorthodox thoughts out loud to your soulmate. But he sounds like he really wants to know so you sit up crossing your legs underneath you and begin. 

  “I told him about you…and his words not mine, we’re that he was not afraid of a little friendly competition.” You think you hear a scoff but you can’t be sure so you continue. “You said I don’t belong to anyone so…I’d like to keep getting to know you both for now.”

  It’s silent and all you can hear is his soft breaths through the phone as you try to hold yours. You’re starting to panic that maybe you’ve said the wrong thing. 

  “Baby I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to.” He smiles as he hears your sigh of relief. Frankie decided the day he met you that he wasn’t going to stop going after what he wanted most. 

  You grin wide to yourself wondering how you got so lucky. “You’re killing me over here with the pet names.” 

  “I don’t fight fair sweetheart.” 

  “Ok mister, that's enough out of you.” You hear his infectious laugh, knowing how unserious you sound. 

  You hear the keys to the front door jingle and the tell tale sign of a hungover Alicia cursing her way through the flat. 

  “I was getting ready to send out a search party for my friend but she’s home in relatively one piece.” Frankie grunts on the other end as he’s sorely reminded of Santiago’s budding love life. 

  She makes her way into the room looking at you conspiratorially as she quickly gets under the warm covers. 

  “I guess I should let you go so you can talk about what a gentleman my friend was.” You can tell by his reluctance that he’s wanting to continue this just as badly as you. He hears you snicker as you catch a glimpse of a dark hickey forming on her neck. 

  You poke it gently with your finger as she swats your hand away. ��Hardly a gentleman keeping her out all night.” 

  She rolls over close enough to your ear nuzzling into you. “Are you two having phone sex in my bed?” 

  “Oh my god no!” 

  “Bummer.” 

  Frankie’s bellowing laugh echoes through the receiver as she winks at you. 

  He hears you take in a deep breath and then a soft whine that he can’t think too much about. “I guess…we’ll talk later Frankie.” 

  “Looking forward to it hermosa.” You groan again and his hand drifts mindlessly to the front of his jeans. 

  “You and that mouth are gonna be the death of me.” You hang up before he has the chance to speak. To which he’s grateful because he couldn’t if he tried. 

  ****

  “What’s his mouth doing?” You narrow your eyes at her incessant teasing as she sits up to join you against the headboard. 

  “Enough about my complicated love life, how was your date with Santiago?” You raise your eyebrows at her while she stares back with a blank unreadable expression on her face. 

  She bites her lip and glances up to the ceiling. The silence stretches on for too long as you grab her hand in yours to force her to look at you again. 

  “Hon you can tell me anything, you know that?” 

  She squeezes your hand back. “I know, it just feels selfish with everything you’ve got going on.” 

  You level her with a look. “I’m being courted by two gorgeous men not having a root canal…spill the beans!” 

  She buries herself beneath the blanket. “I’m fucking head over heels, completely obsessed. He’s so kind and hot and we’re both messed up in the same ways. If  he asked me to marry him tomorrow I would.” Her muffled rambling stops for a moment as you hover over her and peel back the covers. “I think he’s equally as obsessed and that scares me.” 

  You laugh all light and airy. “Welcome to the club babe.” You plop back down against the pillow staring at the ceiling. 

  She sighs playfully. “Also he fucks like he’s trying to win the gold medal in the Olympics.” 

  “Oh my god don’t rub it in.” You groan as you roll over to face her. 

  She boops your nose. “Listen sweetie, no one said you can’t have a little fun.” 

  “Nuh uh…not until I make a choice.” You can see it as the words leave your mouth. The crazy glint in her eyes as the light bulb goes off in her head. “What’s that look?” 

  “You know where you love to go when you need to blow off a little steam.” 

  ****

  The floors are sticky and the room smells of cheap beer and sweaty bodies. It’s early in the night and there’s already several people on their way to being kicked out for being too drunk. Frankie narrowly avoided some drunk college girl about to spill her guts all over him as he maneuvered his way through the crowded country bar. He’s thankful for the loud twangy music from the jukebox and the shouts of overly intoxicated men trying to peacock their way into some poor girl's pants. At least it can drown out the thoughts he’s had since he and Dave exchanged quick instructions on where to meet so they could discuss things. 

  The conversation wasn’t long enough for him to gauge the tone. Dave deliberately said to meet here at this crazy horse type place. Every town seems to have one, a place where you could blend into the crowd if you wanted. Now he’s not so sure if the man knew what he was doing but he knows for certain it’s easy to get lost in here. 

  He knew Dave’s hotel would be too quiet of a place to meet in case things got too heated, they also wanted somewhere neutral where outside influence wouldn’t sway the conversation. Frankie’s never gone into a mission so blind and unprepared, all he knows is neither man has any plans to back down. 

  Frankie spots him in a booth in a far corner of the bar. He’s easy to see with his robotic stature, so much more out of place than Frankie with his relaxed tee and standard oil cap. He’s not sure what you see in him, or maybe he does and refuses to admit their similarities. Charming, disciplined, intelligent, conventionally attractive. It can’t be any of those things. 

  ****

  “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.” Dave pours Frankie a beer from a large pitcher and slides it’s towards him. 

  Frankie eyes it momentarily and tries to shove down the annoyance brewing between them. 

  “Poison is not my m.o. so it’s safe to drink.” Dave takes the glass and a huge swig as he pours into the empty one. 

  Frankie accepts, briefly relishing in the cool liquid. He needed something to calm his nerves and times like these would have had him reaching for something a little stronger. 

  Frankie smirks. “Funny you say that since I’ve thought of several ways to kill you.” He sets his beer down and Dave laughs a little, shaking his head. 

  Dave clears his throat and slides an envelope towards Frankie. “This is all Santiago’s money. I’m sure you don’t care but I don’t make a habit of this.”

  Frankie takes it, tucking it safely into his front flannel pocket. “I’m not sure what I expected.” He pauses briefly as he rubs his jaw. “I guess I thought you’d called me here to tell me you fucked up and you’re backing down.” 

  Dave shrugs with a self surprised look. “I expected you to tell her who I was. There must be a reason you didn’t or we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

  Frankie’s thought this over countless times. It never sounds right in his head. He’s hung up on the fairytale and something about hiring Dave doesn’t sound like a fairytale to him. 

  “She likes you.” Frankie says all matter of fact. “I could tell when she talked about you…it just didn’t feel right trying to get ahead by telling her who you were.” Dave watches as he takes his cap off running his fingers through his hair and places it back on. “Besides I don’t think it would’ve made a difference with us.” 

  Dave expected this conversation to go much worse, it’s oddly normal and under different circumstances he would probably be Frankie’s friend. It bothers him how much they’re getting along. He anticipated some yelling and maybe some choice words ending in a punch thrown. That was the younger version of him concocting a scenario that he now realizes would never unfold between these two grown men. He knows they’ve both seen too much violence for one lifetime to waste it on an equal counterpart. 

  After a few more beers and some unspoken agreement they actually come to terms with the situation. They already know about each other and you’ve made it clear you’re interested in both men so they’ll wait as long as they have to until you make a decision. The loser will recede without conflict and they can all go on living their lives.

  There’s definitely an air of false confidence coming from either side. Dave believes you’ll choose him because he met you first and established a bond. He’s always been cocky in every aspect of his life and to him this was no different. 

  Frankie plays along because in his mind how could you not choose your soulmate. You had an instant connection and his best friend is dating your best friend. There’s no way he could go wrong. 

  “I’d say we have ourselves a deal Francisco.” Dave holds his hand out, much larger than Frankie has realized as he shakes it across the table. 

  “You might as well call me Frankie.” He replies as Dave’s eyes linger for a moment on his lips. 

  A brief flicker that anyone would’ve missed and Frankie’s grasps that he hasn’t let go of his hand. 

A loud raucous laughter pulls them apart as they look out into the crowded bar. 

  “Would you ever be caught dead on one of those?” Dave gestures to the intoxicated man on the mechanical bull. 

  Frankie just shakes his head as they look on. “Santi dared me once when we were on leave. I was seeing double that night so I never even made it onto the damn thing.” 

  ****

  “Your names on the list babe.” Alicia plops down into the booth as you slide her drink towards her. She gives you a look as she peels the napkin from the top.

  You give her a stern face as you peel yours back and take a sip. “Don’t look at me like that. You can never be too careful.” 

  “You’re literally sitting here with our drinks.” 

  “What if I got distracted?” You laugh as she rolls her eyes. 

  You swear sometimes it was like an old married couple. 

  You both sit back scanning the room, people watching like you usually did. You loved coming to this bar, especially on college night. You got to watch the cat and mouse game like it was National Geographic. Reliving your college days and maybe helping a girl or two on the way to not make the same mistakes you did when it came to picking people up in seedy bars. 

  It seemed counterproductive to come to a loud, crowded bar full of hormonal twenty-somethings to talk about your love lives but this is where you accidentally agreed to meet Alicia when you first moved here. She suggested the place to meet you and make sure you weren’t a creep and you agreed not knowing anything about the place. 

  Amongst the noise and chaos you found your best friend and roommate and never looked back. So now this is where you come to reminisce and unwind when life is too complicated or in your case a modern day episode of the bachelorette. 

  “So.” She claps her hands pulling your attention back to the present. “Have you decided what you’re gonna do?” 

  “No…that’s why we’re here remember?” You tease as you gesture around the room. “All I know for certain is I really like them both.” 

  “Just fuck both of them.” She half mumbles into her drink as she takes another sip. 

  You playfully narrow your eyes at her “I heard that.” 

  “I meant you too.” She shrugs her shoulders and sighs. “You know I’m mostly joking…I know you want more than just sex, but I say you see where it goes with both of them. Leave the ball in their court.” 

  Her phone buzzes and she glances down at it smiling ear to ear. You eye her curiously as she sends a quick text and places it back face down on the table. 

  “I hope Santiago has a big house because I’m coming with you when you leave.” You say as she looks up at you. 

  “Oh he’s well aware, wherever I go you go.” 

  You both don’t speak for a moment as you revel in the background noise, the music, random roars of laughter and way too much squealing from drunk girls. The sound of a chair scratching and some machismo voices getting a little too loud before inevitably a bouncer has to come break it up. 

  A familiar laugh breaks through the clamor and you crane your neck to look at the other booths. 

  “Alicia, I think I’ve had too much to drink.” Your voice barely above a whisper. 

  “You haven’t even finished your first one.” The laugh is on the tip of her tongue until she sees the concern etched across your face. 

  “Babe what’s-“

  “Wait here.” You don’t even recognize your own voice as the words leave your mouth. 

  She’s cut off by your abrupt exit from the table. You’re seeing red and your heart is pounding in your ears. 

  ****

  Frankie could’ve left a while ago but he’s actually enjoying himself. Trading horror stories and some stories that sound classified but Dave is opening up to him so he wants to reciprocate. His laugh reverberates through him with how infectious it is and his smile actually meeting his eyes makes him seem less robotic and a little more approachable. He’d even dare say that Dave is having just as good a time as him with the way he’s relaxed into the booth, his arm draped along the back while the other hand spins the empty glass on the table. 

  “What in the actual fuck is going on over here?” 

  You’re standing there with your arms crossed, a wretched look on your face as a few people look over to the table. It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion as Dave’s happy demeanor morphs into a glass eyed stare. The moments feel like an eternity as both men wait for the other to respond and Frankie would soon rather the floor swallow him up than answer that question. 

  “It’s not what it looks like.” Frankie sounds unsure of his own voice as he dares to speak first. The look in your eyes has him regretting that before the words leave his mouth. 

  You throw your hands up sarcastically. “Next thing you’re gonna say is…please let me explain.” He just blinks again, running his hand across his neck nervously as a few girls snicker from behind you. 

  You point your finger at Dave. “And you.” Your voice drops an octave as you lean into the table. “I knew you were a fucking liar.” 

  That stings, more than you could ever know because his heart feels like it’s ripping in two. Despite the fact that he may have ruined the best thing to ever come into his life, he looks across the table and sees the revelation that he may have ruined it for Frankie as well. 

  You can faintly hear Alicia’s voice a few booths over spitting venom into her phone. You don’t feel too bad for Santiago at this moment but you hope for his sake he’s doing a better job at explaining than the two men in front of you. 

  Your name calls over the muffled loud speaker and you huff out in frustration. “Figures.” You reach  across the table grabbing the full beer in front of Dave as he closes his eyes, bracing for impact. 

  Unexpectedly you’re finishing the drink, slamming the glass on the table harder than you intended…but you’d frame the look on their faces if you could as you walk away and step into the ring in the middle of the bar that holds the mechanical bull. 

  The second time you came here with Alicia she had dared you to ride it. After  much encouragement from her and promise that she’d do it too you worked up the courage to get on. Much to your surprise you were very good at it and it was exhilarating having all these random eyes on you. It gave you a boost of confidence you’d never had before. 

  This feeling is reminiscent of the first time, your best friend leaning against the ring as you swing your leg over and mount the bull. You signal the controller with two fingers up as you grip the underside of the rope with your other hand. A bead of sweat trickles down your back as you take a deep breath. He starts out slow as the music cues up. You always let Alicia choose the song and you’re thankful right now as Genuines Pony starts playing over the loudspeakers, bringing all the attention to you. A few cheers from the crowd drown out the sound of your beating heart as you make direct eye contact with the two men seated nearby. 

  He jostles you slightly as your grip tightens on the reins and the laugh that erupts from Alicia is intoxicating as every part of your body shakes. He’s definitely taking it easy on you so you hold up three fingers signaling for him to take it up a notch. 

  ****

  “Jesus fucking Christ…” Dave half whispers from across the table as Frankie tries not to drool at the sight of you riding the bull, glancing up at them occasionally with a look of ‘this could’ve been you’. 

  It’s the most erotic, mesmerizing thing he’s ever seen and you look so confident up there that it has him thinking you’ve got a few more tricks up your sleeve. It’s like you’re trying to draw them in as your hips move in tandem, like you’ve done this a thousand times. 

  You bite your lip and smile at Alicia as he tries to buck you off, instinctively Frankie’s eyes are on the crowd of men that have gathered to watch you as they look on with predatory eyes. He can see Dave gripping the table as he watches the same and this possessive feeling washes over him. He knows it would be an all out brawl if one of them did or said anything to you and it’s not fair to think that way but he can’t help it. It’s carnal the way you make them feel and yet they’ve ruined any chance at being able to walk over to one of the brutes now and say that you belong to them. He doesn’t know when it switched from just him to them but right now he doesn’t care. 

  ****

  You use the bulls movement to your advantage as you gyrate your hips, picking up your ass slightly when it’s within their view. You can feel their eyes on you and your previous feeling of anger toward them is replaced with a much more confusing one. Both of them captivated by you with rapt attention has your mind wandering in circles of what if? Why choose? You crave them in a way you can’t describe and this filthy display you’re putting on is only making things harder for you. 

  The song is coming to a close, and despite your best efforts you feel yourself slipping. Sweat beads on your forehead as the bulls movements become more erratic. “Hold on babe, you’re almost there.” Alicia is jumping and yelling from the sidelines as you grit your teeth refusing to give up. With one final surge forward you summon all your strength and hold on for dear life, the crowd erupting into cheers as you rode out the last of the song. 

  You dismount as the adrenaline is coursing through your veins. You meet their eyes briefly and a mix of admiration and awe is etched across their faces. Though you may have been tossed around like a rag doll you surely left a lasting impression on the both of them. 

  You exit the ring as Alicia approaches you but your view of her is blocked as a tall, half drunk man crowds your space. He reeks of booze and he assuredly is seeing double. 

  “You did a pretty good job on that bull sweetheart-“ 

  “I’m gonna stop you there bud.” Alicia’s voice cuts in from behind him and he whips around nearly losing his balance. 

  There's a heavy presence looming behind you and you don’t dare turn around already having an idea of who it is. 

  “Two for the price of one, how nice.” The man spits at her and she’s seeing red. Frankie’s hand is on you as Dave steps forward to give this guy a piece of his mind, but he’s  much too slow for the spit fire as the man keels over holding his nose. 

  She shakes her hand violently as you step out of Frankie’s grip. “Sorry to ruin your knight in shining armor moment boys.” She gives a fake sorrowful look as she hooks her arm in yours, leaning into your ear. “Let’s get out of here.” 

  “I couldn’t agree more.” You say as you both hastily exit the bar, it’s better for both your sakes that you don’t turn around to see the stunned look on their faces. They can stay to deal with the aftermath. 

  ****

  You stand outside arm in arm as you wait for the car to pick you up, hoping Dave and Frankie are occupied or just too afraid to face you yet. You’re both reeling and you can tell she can’t decide who should speak first. 

  “I take it you talked to Santi.” 

“Mhmm.” She glances over at you knowingly. “We have a lot to talk about.” 

Prev/Next

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[aching-tummies]

Groan Tube Tummy

Anyone remember those "Groan Tube" toys from the early 2000s?

I woke up to an uncomfortable tummy.

Dinner wasn't very filling last night so I filled up on tea 'cuz I was too lazy to bother to cook up something else for myself. I was also trying out a new blend of tea and it tasted pretty good. Chinese-style tea with just leaves in hot water.

Maybe it's stress because I spent all day yesterday fretting over some documentation stuff I had to submit the next day. I tried submitting it just after midnight and the thing wouldn't let me. I'd been stressing and going over the stuff for well over 8 hours at that point just to make sure I didn't fudge anything. I looked up whether or not other people had the same experience with the thing not submitting and saw quite a few posts online in regards to this specific thing where people said, "Nah--wait 6 hours" followed by others that claimed they waited 8 or 8.5 hours before the site finally took their submissions. So I decided to sleep on it and set an alarm for 6 hours later and every hour after that to remind me to try to submit the things.

6AM, alarm goes off. I sit up to turn the alarm off…and my stomach lets out a strange noise. Hard to describe, but if anyone remembers those toys from the early 2000s called "Groan Tube Noise Makers"? You can look 'em up under that name. I just did. Yeah, my guts let out short bursts of this kind of noise.

It's been almost an hour since I woke up and my stomach has not stopped making these noises. I have my stethoscope tucked just under my navel as I type all of this out and it sounds like someone tipping a Groan Tube every other minute.

The interesting thing is that these noises are actually really uncomfortable. My intestines feel like they're distended and whenever the 'Groan' of a gurgle passes through it's like being pinched in that specific segment of intestine.

The 'Groan' noises are erupting absolutely everywhere in my intestines. Upperleft, lower right, criss-crossing the middle and particularly loud and deep just below my navel.

What I wouldn't give to be sitting in a partner's lap--me stressing over getting these documents submitted, both hands frantically typing away on my laptop…and their hands languidly squeezing and prodding my guts--messing with my belly and getting all of these groans and glorps out of my system. Like...it's not quite painful...but it's really, really uncomfortable and is definitely a sensation I'd classify as a 'tummy ache'.

Honestly, I wonder about the new tea leaves I used last night. The reaction from my tummy this morning really feels like something didn't agree with my intestines. The way my intestines feel bloated up and are grumbling honestly sounds exactly like how all the asks describing sugar-free bloats to be. So I can't help but wonder if maybe those tea leaves had some sugar-free substance on them or something. I mean, they shouldn't. To my knowledge, they really were just tea leaves that had maybe been roasted and dried before being packaged in a vacuum-sealed bag.

Just tried Googling if green tea can cause upset stomachs or stomach aches. I've never had this problem before and I've had plenty of different kinds of green tea before this. Apparently, it's something called 'tannins' and something about proteins binding in the intestines?

So…either I never fill up on green tea ever again in lieu of a filling dinner…or I gotta do this again…for science--to truly confirm whether or not I have 5lbs of literal fetish-fuel in the form of tea leaves. As always, gimme your best responses. Do your worst! My intestines already feel icky and uncomfy--what could you possibly add?

[zoethehead]

Yet another part of my soldier oc; "Elliot" 's story.

Btw, vulzal is supposed to be my take on a fairy tale troll.

Tw for amputation, panic attack, a small desc. of the rotted arm, and near death.

Bonus: imgs of Elliot and vulzal that i made in Fábrica de heróis, and heroforge

Elliot soon came to from the many blurred and hectic moments haunting him.

He felt the searing pain dulled down to little more than an ache. He opened his eyes-- or rather... only one.

The other was wrapped up with gauze.

He was laying down on a bed, with a comfortable blanket pulled up to his shoulders. His head swam as he turned his head to check his surroundings. He was in a room-- it's design was almost cottage-like in nature. He tried to sit up, but the stinging pain pushed him back a bit. The blanket slipped off of his body, and that's when Elliot knew the full extent of his injuries.

There were various bandages wrapped around his body; his thighs and calves had bandages wound around the various cuts, gashes, and scrapes. His stomach was similarly wrapped up, but the worst was his left shoulder.

There were bandages wrapped up underneath his arm and around his clavicle and top of his chest, which lead to the stump that was once his left arm.

His left arm was gone; in its wake was a stump--- he came to the realization that his left arm couldn't be salvaged from how bad it had rotted away.

He let out a scream of shock, which alerted someone, he couldn't hear the door open because of the thoughts clouding his mind.

Elliot felt a hand against his shoulder.

"Easy does it there, you've been out cold for a week or two." The stranger said.

Elliot recognized this being's voice....

It was the same person who found him in the cave.

Elliot could now clearly see this being near him.

They looked to be a goblin, but slightly taller, and with a fluffy tail like that of a gryphon.

Elliot's breathing slowed as he tried to calm himself down, he felt a wave of dizziness and pain rush over him as he collapsed back onto the bed, closing his eyes.

Elliot hoped that this was just a nightmare; he didn't want to believe that he lost his dominant arm to an untreated infection.

He fell back into slumber

-

-

Vulzal sat near the man, feeling terrible for him.

When he had first found this man, he was bruised and bleeding. There were bits of shrapnel lodged in his skin, he had numerous burn wounds: one of which was badly infected enough that his left arm looked like it had belonged to that of a zombie. Unfortunately due to the man's state, that arm had to be amputated so he wouldn't die from sepsis.

This man had surely been through something rough, he may have been an outlander, but that didn't stop Vulzal from trying to help the injured man out.

He tucked the quilt back up around the man, and left him to rest.

[top-tier-tickles]

Dark Deception Tickle AU

______________________________________

Chapter 6: Part 3

"Ugh, you careless oaf! Get up, now!" Bierce yelled.

Doug shot awake, bringing his hand up to rub his aching head. Except, he couldn't. His arm didn't move. He tried again. Nothing. A good look around revealed that his arms had been crossed behind his head, restrained with a belt. The same could be said for his ankles, leaving him nearly completely immobile.

That wasn't even the worst of it! His shirt was gone! As well as his shoes and socks, all in a neatly folded pile on a chair. Some small, white pads had been stuck to his skin in various places. One in each underarm, three on his stomach, and two on his feet, one on each sole.

"Heya there, sleepyhead, are you awake now?" The nurse said, standing in the cell door, "Well, good. You snore pretty loudly, y'know?"

She laughed, Doug couldn't muster up a word.

"Welcome to our Intensive Therapy Unit! You're gonna be here awhile. And I really have to thank you to saving us the trouble of bringing you down here ourselves!"

A sudden burst of adrenaline, and Doug fought against the belts, trying to break free. The nurse said nothing, and simply slammed the door shut.

"Oohh, Still a tad unruly, aren't we? Well, no matter. Our rigorous treatment package should take that fight right outta ya! We need to get you prepared, ready, and wrapped up with a bow for Lord Malak!" She continued, "We'll start with some simple nerve stimulation therapy! That'll be fun, won't it?"

The mad misandrist skated back to a comically large lever on the wall.

"But don't you worry! The process is fully automated to guarantee the most effective treatment, see?" The lever was thrown. A defibrillator machine whirred to life, warming up. It wasn't until now that Doug realized that the pads had wires attaching them to the machine.

"Just scream if you need anything! Toodles! Bye-byeee~! Buh-bye!" She quickly skated away and down the hall, leaving Doug to his "treatment".

"Wait! Don't leave me like this! Come ba- AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! W-WAHAHAHAIT!"

The machine sent a short burst of electricity through the pads, shocking Doug's nerves into hyperdrive. It would rest for ten seconds before shocking him again, barely giving him any time to collect himself.

"OHO MY GAHAHAHAHAHAHAD! TURN IT OFF! TUHUHUHURN IT OHOHOHOHOHOFF! PLEASE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Despite all other forms of tickling he's experienced in this hell, this tickling was much different. He could feel the electric sensations crawling around his body, even places where defibrillator pads hadn't even been stuck. It felt like thousands of tiny fingers digging into his flesh, driving Doug's mind into a spiral of helpless pleas and laughter.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAHAHAPIT! FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK!"

The pauses between shocks were a welcome break from the assault on his senses, although they never lasted long. Doug took the opportunity to suck in as much oxygen as he could, and attempt to thrash his way out of the restraints. All efforts were in vain, as his muscles were already exhausted. All he could do was lay there and cackle.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! P-PLEASE! LEMME GOHOHOHOHOHOHO! STAHAHAHAHAHAP!"

One couldn't help but wonder why he'd been granted these 10 second breaks. Perhaps these demons were merciful, in their own sadistic way, but they seemed so hellbent on killing him that it didn't make sense.

Until it clicked.

All the other times he'd been caught by the monsters, he'd been wrecked continuously, not given room to breath or compose himself. Those all ended the same way: Doug slipping away to the death screen to revive himself. These monsters didn't want him to die. At least not until Malak got there.

They were making him last as long as possible.

"HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHE!"

Doug writhed about on the table, tears ran down his bright red face. His throat began to hurt from all the laughter, but he knew that it wouldn't stop anytime soon.

No. He couldn't let this happen. He refused to allow it to end like this- not after getting this far.

He held his breath and clamped his mouth shut, biting back the laughter. Yanking his arms forward, he found that the weak belt was tearing. Doug's arms broke free, working fast to undo the belts on his ankles. With his limbs free, Doug grabbed all the wires with one hand, and in one swift motion, ripped them all off of his body.

He jump off of the table, rubbing away the tingling. He quickly put his shirt and shoes back on, and got out of that dungeon as quickly as possible.

"That was close..." Bierce said.

Doug slowed to a stop, he was on the first floor of the ring piece room, the nurses were scanning the area, their backs thankfully turned to him.

"You need to find a way past her. Use your brain!"

This shouldn't be a problem, he knew how to sneak. With the nurses' backs turned, he made his way to the middle of the room, silently teleporting to the other side of the room. He spotted the entryway into the Therapy Center, that's where he needed to go.

His heart was practically beating out of his chest as he snuck behind the giant matron, it was so loud that these nurses wouldn't even need a stethoscope to listen to it.

When the opportunity presented itself, he booked it down the corridor, over the saw and into the catacombs.

"Are you kidding me?! He escaped! This is unacceptable! We will not accept unruly patients!" A nurse's voice came over the intercom, warning Doug that they'll be patrolling the catacombs.

"Some pretty twisted therapy in this place. Be careful you don't actually become a patient...." Bierce warned.

The soul shards were widespread, making the Telekinesis essential to collect them. The walls were a dark brown color, with white graffiti sprayed in various places. "Men are Pigs", "Liar Liar" and "Toxic Love" were just a few of the sayings.

There were lifts that raised him up to the second floor, allowing him a quick escape from any nurses skating after him.

"This is the most handicap-accessible nightmare I've ever encountered!" Bierce commented.

His map lead him to the sparse shards, his telekinetic ability scooping most of them up. Something seemed peculiar about his map, though.

There was an offset room on the map, but there was only a wall. Doug touched it, and just like the others the wall opened up to safety.

More graffiti was sprayed on the walls.

Red pills.

"She was crazy"

"Just another pretty face."

Oh. Oh no.

He went to a wall with a note stuck to it. Another one from his past self. Talking about his wife, and her issues.

She'd had mental problems, but that wasn't her fault. It didn't even start affecting them until Tammy was born, but it wasn't Tammy's fault either. One could blame her family for not properly handling her problems, but he couldn't.

She'd gotten violent on some occasions, even attempting to stab him with a pair of scissors after an argument. And Doug wouldn't be lying if he said he feared for his life at some points. But that could never excuse the kind of husband Doug was.

He left the note where it was, and walked over to the adjacent wall. Another note, this time about her medication.

She was addicted. Plain and simple. She was getting more pills than she should've somehow, and even some new ones with names that looked like they were translated through 50 different languages. He should have stopped it from getting as far as it did, but you can't exactly help someone if they don't want it.

Or, maybe she did want help? He didn't know, he hadn't bothered to try. All he was worried about was him possibly being embarrassed by her and how much money she was costing.

She was crazy. No she wasn't.

Just another pretty face. So much more than that.

Doug stuck the note back onto the wall, and left to collect more soul shards, his mind more clouded than it already was. He rushed to and fro throughout the winding halls, gathering up the last bit of the shards.

"There's no time to waste! Get to the ring piece!"

His map lead him back to the crammed reception room, the ring piece now completely unguarded. Doug snatched it up, and rushed through the exit doors, knowing it wouldn't be long before a demon was on his ass again.

"You've got it! Now get out if this twisted hospital!" Bierce ordered.

Doug hopped up onto another ambulance, happy to be on the easy ride out.

"Malak's not around....Maybe he's demoralized."

The ride through the transportation tunnel was longer than the previous one, but he was happy that he was riding smoothly alongside the other ambulances.

"Reapers! After him, don't let him reach the portal!"

Well, there goes that.

Red-clad Reaper Nurses skated at the same speed as the trucks, one climbed up onto the top, entering a standoff with Doug.

"Lord Malak is on his way here now, Mortal. However, this'll be over long before he arrives. I don't know what drives you to endure so much, but I can see you are lost, and you always will be! Whatever your grasping for so desperately will be just outta your reach! She won't be able to change that either! Regardless, Lord Malak has more pressing matters to deal with than one defiant mortal soul that refuses to descend. We will win his favor by ridding him of your intolerable presence once and for all!"

As she finished her rant, the giant matron rolled up to the back, her hands equipped with giant, buzzing bone saws.

Those weren't made to tickle.

They were made to slaughter.

"Ahhh, There she is. Right on schedule. I think you'll find she's not quite as hospitable as we are... You've eluded us, but you'll never get past her!"

The nurse suddenly unsheathed her needle, stabbing it at Doug, who dodged it just in time. With a blast of Primal Fear, he ripped the needle out of her hands, smacking her off of the ambulance with it.

The knocked-out nurse flew off, rolling right under the Matron's wheeled feet, knocking her off-balance.

"That's it! Do that again!" Bierce said.

Doug teleported to another ambulance, making sure to keep his distance from the reaching bone saws, he grabbed the needle, getting ready to smack a bitch. A nurse clawed her way up, almost immediately flying off when her bagged face was met with the blunt end of her own weapon.

The Matron grunted, indicating that the nurse had hit her again.

"I'LL CRUSH YOU INTO DUST!"

'Alright. That's two, three more should be enough to knock her down.' Doug thought, keeping up the pace with teleporting and grabbing needles.

Stun and smack. That's the game plan. And surprisingly, it worked. Another slap, and another nurse closer to being free.

BAM! That's one.

BAM! Two.

BAM! and three.

With that final projectile nurse, the Matron lost any balance she had left, faceplanting right into the pavement.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

The ambulance arrived back to the main entrance shortly, Doug speeding down the corridors to the elevator. It was almost painful to wait for the elevator, but it's hard to sit still when you're about to die.

Nurses were hot on his heels as he burst through the double doors, slipping into an empty room for a quick escape. A note was posted on the wall, another one from E.

E had been following Malak, though only getting dead ends in regards to escaping. Strangely, when they entered this nightmare, they weren't attacked. The nurses were....civil and polite with them.

They were born from the souls or women who hated men, tormenting men who hated women in their life. How poetic.

They offered E some tea, and even the opportunity to join them. Though they weren't angry when they refused, and allowed them free reign of the hospital, and E planned to explore the off-limits areas.

'So, E is a woman... What the hell is so familiar about her?' Doug thought, pocketing the note.

He left the room, only to be met with two nurses blocking the door. They spun each other around, tossing a nurse toward him. Out of pure reflex, Doug dodged and stunned her, pushing her and her friend into the door.

He dashed through the exit, screaming nurses following him, nevertheless, he finally made it through the portal.

Doug returned to the ballroom, sweat soaking his clothes, an immediately feeling Malak's red eye staring down at him.

"You are becoming quite opportunistic, mortal. How fortunate for you that I was already occupied with more pressing matters. That will not happen again." He taunted, his pupil shrinking, "Thanks to you two, dangerous forces are now in motion. You are disrupting my business and I cannot afford to allow your insolence to continue any longer!"

"Next thing you know, he'll be pleading with you! That's because he's losing! Soon, the ring will be mine again." Bierce said, crossing her arms.

4 portals to go...

______________________________________

END OF CHAPTER 6: PART 3

Chp. 1-1, Chp. 1-2, Chp. 2-1, Chp. 2-2, Chp. 2-3, Chp. 2-4, Chp. 3-1, Chp. 3-2, Chp. 3-3, Chp. 4-1, Chp. 4-2, Chp. 5-1, Chp. 5-2, Chp. 5-3, Chp. 6-1, Chp. 6-2, Chp.6-3,

[brandwhorestarscream]

predacon seekers au: aftermath

he awakened again, it wasn't cold this time.

but his body felt stiff, unmoving and slow, there wasn't the same purple colored halls he was used to, it was different, a grouded, warm orange color.

he blinks, once, twice.

there was odd machinery attached to him, hologram lit green with a language that looked odd, yet familiar, he can recognize the script, even if he couldn't understand half of it. he looks around, this isn't the same place he woke up in, it wasn't much cleaner or neat, much smaller than starscream can remember.

"oh…oh! ratchet! he's awake!-" instincts rouse in a instance, his body curled up as his plating ruffled with a sharp, low hiss-

and promptly cried out as hot burning pain flared in his limbs, and fell on the ground with a audible thud, followed by a terrified whimper.

"stop moving already!" he felt servos over his body, a chain connected to his berth clicked and rattled as he jerks, screaming and crying out furiously, he was terrified, where was he? where was cryak? is his carrier ok? who are these bots?

uncoordinated and confused, his wings flapped angrily, loud bellows as he blindly slashed and growled at the strangers approaching him, loud clinking and metal creaking as he bumped and thrashed around the small space, it was too much, too muchtoomuchtoomuch-

"DON'T TOUCH ME!!"

everything fell silent, the strangers looked at him in bewilderment, each holding a weapon, everything felt overwhelming and loud and scary-

"are you hungry?"

the young predacon snapped his attention to the voice, he was large, blue and red with shining silver, faceplates were soft, yet had a stern physique, in his arms, there was a energon cube.

"are you hungry?" he repeated, louder. he stared blankly at the cube in the servo, optics wide with shock, slowly, carefully he reached out, the stranger let go gently and moved aside, allowing the gray predacon to inspect the cube closely. It glittered, bright blue, a bit thick with a werid, earthy aftertaste, but his tanks rumbled in joy, his processor still whirled with questions but his stomach rumbling louder.

he picked up the cube with cautious servos, his digits shaking slightly. The energon cube was cool, soothing against his heating, aching tanks. he curled up, using his wings as a sheild, and dug straight into the energon cube, denta chattering and satisfied growls fill the small space for a long stretch of silence.

"thank you," his voice sounds strange and muffled, a little staticky, almost hoarse, but he didn't care, energon was good energon, even though it wasn't exactly what he was used to, even though it wasn't really what he wanted, his spark sang in happiness, as he ate. and, for a while, the small space was peaceful.

hesitantly, the stranger reached his hand out, uncertainly laced in his em feild, "my name is optimus prime," he said softly, looking a bit unsure if his approach was welcomed, optimus prime, it's a nice name, he liked optimus. "I'm…I'm staracream…" his voice sounded small and meek, hoarse, and rusty.

optimus smiled at his response, his smile was warm, "that's a pretty name." he paused, then, quietly, "we're sorry if we scared you"

staracream shook his head quickly, energon dribbling down his chin and chin plates. he felt like crying, the words coming out so fast it took awhile for him to catch them all together. "It….it was loud…" he hoped the stranger wouldn't be mad, hoped. Optimus Prime hummed in understanding, his voice deep and soothing, "do you know how you got here?" his wings tucked against his body, his plating smoothed over, clicking his sharp digits nervously "i was…..in..in a ship? purple…very very purple, was scared, didn't….ran…ran off, i fell…i think…" starscream's optics dimmed, memories coming flooding back and making him dizzy, his mind racing a mile a minute as they came up with the worst possible scenario. did he crash? what happened? where was the ship now? what happened to the others? where are they?

"i..can't..remember," his voice was strained, "i don't know anything, why can't i remember anything..? where am I?" the big mech looked at the others surrounding him with worry and sorrow in his optics, "I'm afraid I cannot say anything. We aren't sure ourselves. You fell from the sky without a warning, we believe the decepticons have a hand in your injuries..." and the predacon blocked out the rest of his sentence,staracream shuddered, not knowing what to do, he hated feeling so lost, so helpless! he just wants to see his creators again, wants to return to his flock! he wants his carrier back, he wants things to be simple again, why couldn't they be simple, please be simple again, please, he just wants to go home-

a servo smoothed over his helm, the big mech EM field was blaring out comfort and calm, the younger mech relaxed into the touch, purring at the feeling of peace it brought, the warmth spread from his shoulder to his wings. "Don't fret," the mechs voice was soft, almost reassuring, "we'll take care of you, I promise no harm shall befall you" The Predacons felt himself growing warm as he nuzzles into his servo, the warmth spreading across his shoulders and chest and making his vocalizer rumble, his touch felt so like his carrier, calm and soothing, slowly, the young predacon drifted off to sleep in optimus arms, he can think about what happened later, now, he was tired, very, very tired……..

He seems so young 🥺 so smol. How old is the poor baby here? I would use my body as a shield for him 😭

[midnightwind]

have a little preview of the Blood of Arlathan bit I wrote because I've been thinking about Renn's mom again (I also forgot the Dalish were just put in a funny box and not literal cages and chains but it's fine, don't worry about that)

“Alright,” Renn breathed, wiping her brow and smearing blood instead, “I think that’s the last of the Venatori for now. The rest are too busy worshipping the dragon. How are we doing with the locks?”

“Getting there!” Bellara called back, the snap of magic following her voice.

“Done over here.” Lucanis answered, helping an older elf join the main group.

She pressed a hand to her chest in relief. “Good, good. Let's get moving soon-”

“Mirevas?”

Her heart stopped.

“Mirevas, is that you?” The woman was speaking in Dalish, the language like an unwelcome friend to her ears.

She couldn't bring herself to look, her body going numb. That voice was from her worst memories, her earliest memories. It had lacked warmth or love, yet right now it held an aching hope. It didn't deserve to. She didn't deserve to. When two hands latched onto her arms, she flinched violently, trying to pull herself free and turn away. She didn't want to look. Everyone had paused in confusion, except Bellara. The other elf had taken a half step towards them, brow furrowed with worry.

“How you've grown! My little pup, you're alive…”

She tore herself free suddenly, letting Bellara catch the older woman before she fell. The cold, calculating Crow took over, smothering the scream in her throat. She stalked to the edge of the ruin, holding a hand out to the escape route as she half turned back to the group.

“Let's go. They know we're here somewhere and it's only a matter of time before Elgar'nan wants his sacrifices.” She ducked into the forest, tossing out directions as she walked. “I'll take point and run distraction if need be with the dagger. Lucanis and Davrin, flank. Taash, take the rear. The rest of you help the elves. Quick and quiet as you can, people.”

She had taken three steps before Lucanis seemed to melt from the shadows at her side. “Are you okay?”

“Keep her away from me and I will be.” She bit the words off sharply, teeth grinding. “I'll explain later.”

He was gone in the next breath. She focused on cutting the path to safety, ears straining for any sound of alarm. Getting ambushed almost sounded like a blessing, anything that let her vent her frustration. It felt like her stomach had fully dropped out and run away, a yawning abyss replacing it. Her fingers felt numb from it as she flexed them on her dagger, her orb bobbing as she clenched and unclenched a fist. Every time she paused, it felt like there was a buzzing in her skull. She wanted to run until her legs gave out, scream until her throat failed. But that wouldn't get these people to safety and they didn't deserve her wrath. 

So she led them swiftly along the route, a blessedly uneventful trip. When she caught sight of Strife and Irelin she almost collapsed with relief. The Dalish were their problem now, she could quietly excuse herself back to the Eluvian. There was no need to confront the looming shade of her past. She had a world to save, she was busy, she didn't have time for this. She was about to clap hands with Strife on a job well done when the woman cried out again.

“Mirevas!” She started, trying to push past Lucanis who had firmly placed himself between the woman and Renn. “Please! My daughter-”

It was like a dam broke in her, finding herself suddenly pushing the assassin aside to loom over the elf. “Don't you dare.” She snarled, magic sparking along her knuckles. “You lost every right to call me daughter twenty years ago. We are strangers.”

That seemed to crush her, shoulders sagging and tears filling her eyes. “I had no choice. The rules of the Clan-”

“Told me to rot,” she snapped, hand tightening on her dagger, “and you let it happen. Not a word, nothing to fight for me. You let them paint my face with marks of adulthood before leaving me to the wolves when I was 12. You raised me on the idea that I would never belong. No attachments, I was going to be sent away. Friends, family, a sense of home, none of that was for me. Your own daughter. You should have knifed me in the crib. It would have been less cowardly.”

“Mirevas…”

“Is dead. You can call me Rook like everyone else. Or better yet, never call on me and save us both the misery.”

The sharp edge in her voice was like the torch tossed on the funeral pyre. Her mother sank to the forest floor, sobs shaking her frame. Her stare was frigid before someone placed a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away sharply, rounding on whoever had dared touch her before the fight in her snuffed out abruptly. Lucanis had been the one to approach her, his brow furrowed and concern obvious. She pulled in a long, shaking breath, running her hands through her hair before shaking them at her side. Lightning sparked free and fizzled out in the air as she reclaimed herself. She was fine.

“Strife,” she started abruptly, turning her back on the weeping figure, “I leave the Dalish in your care. Let me know if you need supplies later. We need to get back to planning our next move against the gods.”

The man paused as if on the verge of saying something before he set his jaw. “Alright. Thanks for your help. Keep us in mind if you need a strike force.”

She raised her hand absently in goodbye as she stalked towards the Veil Jumper camp. It felt like her bones were vibrating beneath her skin, her body screaming for motion. A part of her sang to the forest, a deep seated desire in her blood to run among the trees. She took the cold spike of 20 years of Crow training and stabbed the feeling through its craven heart. The wilderness held nothing for her. It never had.

Instead, she forced herself to keep a brisk walk. She could return to Treviso to sprint the rooftops later. There was a good chance she'd need to gather all their allies soon anyways. No one could fault her for wanting to visit the Crows herself. Well, except maybe the other assassin in the party. To whom she had promised an explanation. Fuck.

The thought caused her to stop in her tracks, rubbing her palms into her eyes. It rather felt like a headache was coming on. There was an abrupt bump against her back, a quiet squeak signaling that Bellara hadn't noticed the other elf halting and had simply walked straight into her. It was a full teeter as the momentum pushed forwards and she humored letting it take her to the forest floor. Maybe she could pretend to faint and escape the whole ordeal. With a wistful sigh she let the motion spin her instead, looping her arm with Bellara's and having them do a 180. She planted the Jumper's feet firmly in the leaf litter, patting her shoulders for good measure, before giving the group bored jazz hands.

“Sorry,” she finally amended as she took a step backwards, “I shouldn't have stopped like that.”

“Oh.” Bellara started slowly, blinking as she tried to figure out what happened. “I should have noticed… Sorry! But, um, what was the move you did? To keep us from falling?”

She shrugged, turning back to the path. “Nothing specific, just used your movement to turn mine and then pushed off you. Eventually our weight met in the middle and I used that to right us. Basic stuff.”

“It just happened really fast.”

“I was slow about it, actually. Almost did fall.” Her voice was flat, the usual lilting mirth gone.

“Um… Rook?” Bellara tried again. “Are you okay? It's okay if you're not, I mean, that looked- do you want to talk about it?”

She was sure the group could hear her magic sparking around her, but she forced the emotion down. Smoothed over it with practiced ease, just like she had been taught. “No, thank you, Bellara. There is very little about that encounter I wish to discuss.”

“Oh.” The disappointment was audible in the Jumper's voice. “Well, okay. If you ever want… my door's open.”

“Yeah.” She tried not to let the word snap free from her lips and only marginally failed.

Blessedly the camp finally came into view. She passed among the prepared cots and little campsite waiting for the Dalish swiftly. When a Veil Jumper managed to make anxious eye contact with her, she simply gave them an exhausted thumbs up. Bellara seemed to hesitate for a moment before excusing herself, splitting off to actually provide an update to the allies who had stayed behind. The Crow simply waved her off, too.

“If you guys want to stay and help, feel free. Having Elgar'nan whisper sweet nothings in my ear has given me a headache. We can take a few hours for ourselves, I think. Plan tomorrow.” The nervous energy had her flicking her knife around in her hand, the flashing silver the only hint to her own unease.

The majority of the group peeled away at that, moving to help sort supplies or finish setting up just one more tent. Her retinue now slimmed down to Neve, who was busy chewing a nail in thought, and Lucanis, currently occupied with trying to stare a hole through her back, did help ease the tension somewhat. It at least let her reach the Eluvian without further incident. Traveling through it always made her stomach lurch, the Fade clawing fingers through her being. And then they were back in the dimly lit Lighthouse and she let out a heavy sigh.

“I'm going to start compiling my notes.” Neve huffed, already halfway down the walkway. “We'll need our army soon, I need to start drafting the letters.”

And then there were two Crows left waiting. Lucanis simply regarded her with a single raised eyebrow, an unspoken question hanging heavy in the air. It made her hand clench at her dagger's grip as she finally sheathed it. The nervous energy was now humming through her. She wanted to run, scream, grab him by the shoulders and shake the stupid look from his face. Instead she offered up a weak shrug.

“I'm going to try and sleep a little.”

“Mhm.” He didn't sound convinced.

“See you in a few hours, probably.” She tried to inject some of her usual brightness into the words, but they sounded hollow.

“I'll make some coffee.” He finally relented, letting her scurry past to take the stairs two at a time to her room.

The need to run had her half sprinting to the queer chamber. She paused at the little hallway, pressing herself into the shadow of a pillar and watching the door that led out to the Fade proper. Lucanis was a muted shade as he walked slowly, a hand tangling in his hair as he went. The low drone of his voice barely reached her, but combined with minute twitching and how his shoulders hitched, it was obvious Spite was being chatty. He was waving his hand as he reached the doors, seemingly trying to disperse an annoying cloud or agitating fly.

“Mierda, I know.” He snapped, loud enough that it made her jump, then softer added, “Too late now.”

And then he slipped past the door into the brightness outside. Good, Spite was distracting him. That bought her a few extra minutes. It wasn't that the demon made him sloppy, just a little more busy. Very few people would be able to take advantage of that. She was one of them. Off like a flash, she was inside her room and tearing clothes out of her wardrobe. Part of her wanted to stuff them all in a bag, shovel a few of the trinkets she'd bought on the journey in after, and disappear. Varric was on the mend. If she left the dagger, it would be his problem. Not hers. She would be free.

Her hand paused. She would have a few days, a week or two, maybe a month if they were lucky. Then the world would be ruined, torn asunder and blighted. Some freedom. She latched onto a boot, flinging it sharply at the wall of glass. It thunked harmlessly to the floor, though some of the weird fish did scatter at the disturbance. She hated this.

It was so much simpler back home. Viago handled all the annoying shit, details and plans and numbers. He would tell her where to go, who to stab, what the obstacles were, and she’d go. A simple dagger in the night, a weapon to be directed. She didn't need the trappings of fame or the burden of import. She was content to be the favored pain in the ass of the Fifth Talon. Maybe she had to be a little more careful with what she touched, watching her meals prepared a little closer than others, but that was simply what being a Crow meant. At least she knew what the line between an unpleasant evening and actual death via Viago's concoctions was. It was a familiar dance that she reveled in.

Gods and monsters and a thousand years of pain and regret were not what a contract should be. Kill some gods, how hard could it be? If she hadn't happened to save Varric, would any of this have happened? All she had to be was well behaved for one night and she would still be a Crow, enjoying her House. They likely would have been fighting demons and her magic might have instantly killed her, but it would have been simpler.

And Lucanis would have been trapped still, forever at odds with Spite. Davrin would have been lost to the Gloom Howler, the griffons snuffed out without warning. Bellara would have lost her people and herself to her brother. Neve would have been ground down by the Venatori and blood mages. Harding would be looking for Solas alone. Taash would have been trapped in their own body before they were hunted down. Emmrich would be struggling forever alone with his choice. Life would have been harder for them all.

She would have stayed a petulant child, content to hold everyone at arm's length. Responsibility would slide off her back like oil on water. Free, untethered, and numb. She kicked at the pile of clothes. The ordeal had made her a better person and it caused a bitter taste in her mouth. With a grumble, she snatched at the pair of lighter leathers she had brought from home. She changed quickly, muttering a quiet apology to the Caretaker who would likely have the mess cleaned up by the time she returned.

She stuffed a few letters, more like unfinished drafts, in her bag and ghosted her way back to the Eluvian. One step into the glowing hall had the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, an electric hum of danger shooting through her. She wasn't alone. Her dagger was in her hand before she could think to summon it, spinning on her heel to confront whoever thought they could sneak up on her. The motion ended in an awkward teeter as she found Lucanis leaning against the wall next to the entryway, a book in hand.

“And here I thought I was the only one with a penchant for sleepwalking.” His voice hummed with a laugh. “Visiting Treviso, by chance?”

She deflated at that. “Am I so predictable?”

He shrugged, pocketing his reading material. “We never interacted, but I was around Viago enough to hear him complain about how you would disappear when he needed you for a job. I always found it odd that he would keep a Crow who annoyed him so much.”

“Family makes you do weird shit.” She half grinned. “How did you beat me here?”

“I thought I didn't, but then you threw something at the fish tank. Very loud.” There was a scolding note to his tone there. “There’s only the one exit to the Lighthouse and you were practically vibrating on the walk back so I figured my chances were good that you would try to sneak out.”

“I wasn't going to do anything stupid.” She huffed.

He raised an eyebrow at that.

“Alright, I wasn't going to do anything dangerous.” She groused. “Just wanted to clear my head.”

“Alone. In a city still swarming with Antaam. While the gods are hunting you.” His favored monotone humor dripped from the words.

“I could have been planning to hang out at the Diamond for all you know.”

“With Viago there? If he didn’t scold you back through the mirror for shirking your contract, you would have been driven out by having to listen to him and Teia mercilessly flirt for the next 5 hours.”

That got an earnest grumble out of her as she crossed her arms. “Alright, fine. You got me. I was going to go for a run on the rooftops.”

He tapped a finger to his lips in thought before nodding. “I haven’t seen the city like that since the Ossurry. Sounds like a fine way to pass the evening.”

“Are…” She blinked incredulously at him. “Are you inviting yourself along?”

“Well, I already told Neve we were checking in with the Crows and I’d hate for her to think me a liar.” He countered with a grin before sobering. “You really shouldn’t go out alone, though. I can be a very quiet bodyguard if you’d like.”

A strangled noise of defeat escaped her. “Maker, fine. If you can keep up. You lose me, that’s on you.”

“You think you can outrun me?” He half laughed.

“I think you were stuck in chains for a year, I have a lot of anger to burn off, and that I have had to run from a lot more jobs than you.”

That earned her an honest laugh. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Maybe.” She grinned before stepping backwards through the Eluvian.

[violetswritingg]

Only in Darkness

Jason Todd X OFC!

Description:

"Only in Darkness can you see the stars."

Or

Marlowe Knight stumbling upon a girl prophesied to end the world and going on the adventure of a life time.

Rating: M (Blood, cannon typical violence, sibling rivalry, scars, torture, trauma, angsttttt)

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

13

Ohio

2018

Rachel and Kory drove for about another hour before they heard movement from the back seat. Rachel almost jumping out of her seat at the low groan that came from Marlowe.

"Thank God you're okay." The teen smiled in relief as Marlowe tensed in panic and pain.

"Where are we? What the- Ah!" She tried to sit up, only to be forced back down by the burning pain in her leg and the body aches everywhere else. Her head being the worst of it at the moment.

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that if I were you." Kory spoke, making Marlowe look at her for the first time, catching a glimpse of impossibly green eyes when the pink-haired woman glanced back at her before focusing on the road again.

"Who the fuck are you? Fuck- Rachel, Explain. Now." Marlowe forced herself up, pushing past the pain now that she knew what to expect. Everything spun in a way that made her sick to her stomach as she leaned back against the door, hard plastic digging uncomfortably into her bruised back. It took everything in Marlowe not to empty her stomach right then and there.

"Would you lay back down? You'll start bleeding again, and then maybe you'll actually die instead of just looking like your dead." Marlowe narrowed her gaze at the still unknown woman.

"Listen here lady-"

"Marlowe." Rachel cut her off with a look that screamed calm down. Marlowe huffed, instantly regretting it as a sharp, but short, pain flashed through her abdomen. Her ribs protesting every movement. "This is Kory. She saved us. How are you feeling?"

"Like a million bucks." Marlowe instantly replied. An exhaustedly sarcastic smile gracing her translucent face as she leaned her head back onto the cold window. Wincing as she closed her eyes but quickly settling when the cold began to numb the bump that had formed there.

"Mar..."

Marlowe softened, her eyes fighting to open again to meet Rachel's fearful and worried gaze, "I'll be okay after a few stitches and some pain meds. Speaking of, you wouldn't happen to have a first aid kit would you oh great savior?" Her sarcasm came back with a vengeance as she directed her question to Kory. The woman rolling her eyes at the snarky attitude of the nineteen year old.

"You would still be bleeding out in the back of a station wagon if I hadn't of-"

Marlowe didn't care to hear the end of Kory's sentence. She didn't have the energy to keep up a conversation that would consist of them circling each other with witty quips and smart comments, she already felt she was at a disadvantage as it was right now. Whoever this woman was, she had taken on that psycho family by herself and rescued her and Rachel without a single hair out of place while Marlowe was half-awake, wounded, and trying not to puke.

"But I'm not now, am I? I'm bleeding out in the back of your very nice muscle car with genuine leather seats. First aid kit, yes or no. If no we need to get one. Preferably one with a sterilized circular needle, iodine, and bandages the size of my palm." Marlowe grunted as they passed over a patch of uneven road, leveling a glare at the driver, "And I'll need access to a bathroom, hot water, and paper towels."

Marlowe had to take a second after that. Everything hurt. Trying to think coherently while attempting to form a list of things she knew she'd need, from memories of Alfred's crash course in being your own medic, only made it worse.

"Jesus- I fucking hate concussions." Marlowe brought the hand not currently over her leg to her forehead.

"You need all that for a concussion?"

"No you-" Marlowe took a calming breathe in as deeply as she dared, "I was stabbed. It may have stopped bleeding now but it's not going to heal unless I stitch it closed. So, unless you want blood all over your fancy ass seats and a dead body that needs burying then I suggest pulling the fuck over and finding a bathroom and a fucking first aid kit!" Marlowe snapped, exhaustion weighting heavy on her vocal cords.

Kory backed off with raised eyebrows and pursed lips, doing as told when she saw a sign for a rest stop. Rachel helping Marlowe out of the car and into the bathroom as inconspicuously as possible while Kory went to grab what Marlowe needed.

"I don't trust her." Was the first thing out of Marlowe's mouth after she checked the stalls to make sure her and Rachel were alone. The younger girl hovering like a helicopter parent monitoring their kids internet usage.

"I do." Rachel fought back, her hard look softening at the pained grunt from Marlowe as she hopped up onto the long counter next to one of the sinks.

"Lock the door." Rachel did as she was ordered, ignoring the short tone of Marlowe's voice, "How can you trust her? You barely know her. She barely knows her."

"I trusted you." Rachel rose a challenging brow at Marlowe and the older girl huffed.

"That was different-"

"How?"

"I don't like her." Marlowe conceded.

Rachel didn't back down, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning into her hip, "Well, I do."

"Fucking hell Rach..." Marlowe groaned in protest; she didn't have enough blood for this right now. A knock at the door and Kory's voice ended the conversation and Rachel quickly let the woman in.

"This was all I could find." Kory tossed Marlowe a basic first aid kit, a sewing kit, and alcohol wipes. The girl cursing under her breath at the prospect of using the straight sewing needle and regular thread.

This should be fun.

"Turn around." Marlowe said as she opened the sewing kit and set out some bandages. Kory scoffed out a laugh.

"Shy are we?"

"Just turn the fuck around." The woman did so rather dramatically, going as far as to cover her eyes. Rachel was reluctant though.

"Are you sure? I could try to hel-"

"I got it Rachel. I could use some new clothes though. Walking in here like this was risky enough, probably don't have long until cops are showing up." Marlowe offered a different way for Rachel to help. The teen needed to be distracted, even if that distraction would leave Marlowe alone with Kory for the time being. Rachel nodded, looking to Kory for the car keys which the woman handed over. Locking the bathroom door again behind Rachel.

Making sure Kory had her back turned to her, Marlowe undid the button on her jeans and pushed them down slowly. What she didn't account for was the pain that came from tugging on the dried fabric over her wound. "Mother Fuck-" Quickly bringing a knuckle between her teeth Marlowe dulled her curses and sounds of pain. Her legs almost collapsing out from under her. Eyesight going white for a split second.

Kory turned, just slightly, over her shoulder. "Need help?"

"No. I'm fine." Marlowe snapped, pulling her shirt down over her exposed hip. Kory clicked her tongue and turned back to face the wall.

Having to peel the dried fabric away was not fun. In any sense of the word. She had been stabbed an inch, maybe two, to the left of the center of her thigh. She was lucky it hadn't hit an artery. She wouldn't just be in a lot worse shape, she'd be dead. You can only lose so much blood before things got sticky.

Marlowe used one of the wipes to rid her hands of any dried blood before psyching herself up to clean the cut with one. Knowing it was going to sting like a bitch. Her eyes drifted to the scar tissue on her hip, spiraling down the top of her leg. For just a second before focusing back on the issue at hand.

"So, you're what? A superhero?" Kory's voice surprised Marlowe but distracted her from the initial sting so she couldn't really complain.

"Something like that." Marlowe grunted, throwing the pink-tinted wipe into the sink beside her and opening another one.

"What does 'The Cosmic Staff' do?" Kory didn't try to hide how she was mocking the name of the weapon. Which pissed Marlowe off, her currently nonexistent fuse igniting.

"None of your business. Now can you shut up? I'm kind of trying to concentrate here." And Marlowe really was trying to concentrate, threading a needle with shaky hands was hard work when not dealing with a head injury. Trying to do it with one? Frustratingly impossible.

"Are you always this full of sunshine and rainbows?"

"I'm not forcing you to stay in here with me. You are more than welcome to wait outside." Marlowe barked, pointing with her as-sterilized-as-she-was-going-to-get needle and thread in the direction of the door.

"What's your problem?" Kory shook her head, turning around quickly, mouth open and ready to continue questioning the injured teen but her voice caught in her throat. Eye locked on the raised and bumpy lines of scar tissue across her upper thigh. "Holy shit." The woman breathed.

"I said turn around!" Marlowe did her best to cover up her scar the best she could but it was too late. Kory had already seen.

"What happened to you?"

Marlowe remained silent as she shifted uncomfortably under Kory's curious and calculating gaze. The tension being broken by Rachel knocking on the door. Kory hesitantly going to let her in, hand hovering over the handle as she looked over her shoulder at the wounded girl.

Marlowe swallowed around the growing lump in her throat and nodded at the woman, going stone faced as she started the first stitch.

~~*~~

Smoothing out a bandage over the wound on her leg Marlowe let out a heavy breath of something akin to relief. Slowly climbing down from the counter and facing the wall length mirror.

Jesus.

There was some split skin on her temple, which she cleaned with the last alcohol wipe before reaching for the paper towel dispenser and wetting the ball she collected. Wiping away the last of the blood on her hands, face, and leg before throwing it into the sink with the rest of the blood stained wipes.

Leaning heavily on her hands trying to get her vision to settle before changing into the pastel purple jeans Rachel came in with. The aforementioned girl had been silent since she had been let in by Kory, tundra like eyes taking in the scar peaking out just under the hem of the light brown undershirt and baggier white over shirt. Which, surprisingly, didn't bother Marlowe all that much. 

Kory however... her eyes made Marlowe's skin itch. Just the thought of a complete stranger seeing something so- so personal had Marlowe pushing down shame and anxiety as she pushed a needle through her skin.

The exact message Hailey and her dad had unknowingly drilled into her ever since she got out of the hospital. It was something to hide. To be ashamed of. Neither of them could ever look at it, having to avert their eyes every time Marlowe's shirt rode up or lifted and exposed the scarred skin. So, that's what Marlowe did. Hide.

Rachel finally made her move, coming to Marlowe's side and helping steady her. Marlowe glanced at the teen with a look that shook Rachel but she didn't show it. Helping Marlowe step into each leg of the jeans and situate the material over the bandages on Marlowe's thigh.  

"Ready?" Kory asked, a simmering truce having been called between her and Marlowe.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go." Marlowe walked out of the bathroom, shrugging on the purple leather jacket Rachel had brought in with the pants, trying not to lean too heavily on the teen as they made their way back to the car. Taking off as soon as Marlowe's door had shut.

The second Marlowe had settled into the back seat the Staff woke up. Almost busting a hole in the roof of the car and causing Kory to swerve on the road.

"What the-"

"Sorry! Cosmo! Hey." Marlowe grabbed onto the Staff, who chattered quickly. If Kory didn't know better, she'd say the thing sounded worried. But that couldn't be. It was a weapon. It didn't have feelings or emotions. It was a thing.

"I know. I know. I'm okay, just chill." Marlowe coaxed the Staff into her lap. Rubbing at the dried blood stuck to the rod with a frown.

"Cosmo?" Kory questioned, genuinely curious.

"Their name. Well, it's what I call them." Marlowe sighed, relief coloring her voice as she relished in the warmth of Cosmo's metal and the placated hum they gave off.

"Them? You talk about it like it's alive." Kory raised a brow in skepticism, starting to wonder if Marlowe had a few screws loose.

"Don't call them an it. I talk about them like they're alive because they are." Marlowe was really tired of people calling Cosmo an it. 

Cosmo was her friend, not a thing. When are people going to get that?

"Okay..." Kory backed off, soft chattering mixing with the quiet disco music coming from the radio as conversation died out. Marlowe having to fight off sleep, feeling more at ease with the situation now that she had Cosmo in her hands, but not comfortable enough to put herself in the vulnerable position.

~~*~~

Another hour on the road and Rachel was demanding they stop for food, Kory looked to Marlowe to talk her out of it but was left disappointed as the nineteen year old hopped on the bandwagon. She was still dealing with waves of nausea every now and then but knew she needed to get something in her stomach, preferably red meat and vitamin c.

Marlowe slowly got out of the car after arguing with Cosmo for a minute. The Staff trying to keep her stationary so she could rest. It was moments like this where she thought the attunement link Cosmo and her dad once had shined through the most and it was almost sweet. Like her dad was looking out for her in the field through more than just watching her back on comms.

Batting away Rachel's extended hands as her scuffed boots hit the cracked asphalt and fighting off the stars dancing in her vision. Leaning heavily on the side of the car and taking deep breaths as subtly as she could, waiting for the head rush to end.

"You good?" Kory asked sounding almost concerned.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Marlowe answered choppily, pushing gently off the car and walking into Bulldog's Diner ahead of Kory and Rachel. The two sharing a look before following the dizzy girl inside, the three of them getting a lot of attention from the patron's inside.

"Be with you in a sec." An obviously overworked waitress called from the lunch counter. Rachel went to go sit but was stopped simultaneously by both of the older females.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure it's safe." Marlowe and Kory said at the same time. The two of them sharing an equally disturbed look before going back to scanning the diner.

"Paranoid much?" Rachel said, pulling away from their grip and sitting in a booth three rows away from the windows.

"It's not paranoia if there's people actively trying to hunt you down Rach." Marlowe muttered vexedly as she slid in beside the girl. Barely swallowing the pained grunt that wanted to escape her at the movement. "It's called being cautious."

Just as Kory slid into the seat across from the girls and got comfortable the waitress, Sharon, as identified by her name tag, walked over, "Can I get you three anything?"

"Chicken and waffles." Rachel instantly said, glancing to Kory as if to make sure that was okay.

"Chicken and waffles coming right up. Best in the county." Sharon grinned warmly down at the blue-haired girl, looking to Marlowe next. "Anything for you?"

"The biggest cheese burger you can make, with bacon, no tomatoes. And orange Juice, in like, the largest glass you have. Please." Marlowe almost pleaded, Sharon's grin turning a little worried but not faltering as she nodded writing it all down on her order pad.

"Miss, can I get you something too?" The waitress finally turned to Kory.

"No, thank you."

Sharon nodded and went to put their order in just as three men, hunters, walked in and ordered a couple beers at the lunch counter.

"We don't serve until after twelve." The cook at the counter said in exasperation, like he had told the man trying to order this a million times before. Marlowe could smell a conflict about to happen when Sharon paused and tensed up at their arrival.

"Fuck you, Daryl."

The cook held up his cellphone in a silent threat to call the cops, only to have it snatched at by the hunter.

"Travis leave it." Their waitress pleaded, trying to push the man away as he walked over to her and grabbed her by the waist. Marlowe's hands clenched on top of the table watching the woman try to get the man, Travis, to leave her alone but he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Just when Marlowe was about to say something, Kory beat her to it. The pink-haired woman turning and throwing her arm over the back of the booth's bench seat, "Excuse me, Travis. She was taking our order and we're in a bit of a hurry."

The greasy man looked their way with a glare. "Go get us our drinks," He ordered his two friends, who walked around the counter to do as they were told, "You should go find someplace else to eat." He said, looking right at Kory in a way that made Marlowe narrow her eyes. She didn't like Kory, but that didn't matter right now. What mattered was the asshole was talking like it was the sixties and had self-proclaimed the diner as 'whites-only' and Marlowe was not okay with that.

"Rachel, Marlowe, go wait in the car."

"That's right, you go with them sweet cheeks. Before someone gets hurt." Marlowe wanted to laugh at how tough this guy thought he was. The only person that would get hurt is you buddy.

"Go." Kory repeated herself, intense green eyes boring into both of the girls across from her.

"But what if-" Rachel worried.

"Now." Marlowe stood to let Rachel out of the booth, glaring at Travis.

Marlowe was nowhere close to being in fighting shape but wanted nothing more than to plow her fist into this assholes face. Multiple times. Marlowe knew the human blow torch could handle herself though, so even though her blood was boiling she ushered Rachel out of the Diner and to the car.

Marlowe watching Kory, like Rachel, as she gave the hunters what had been coming to them and making it look easy. Leaving the nineteen year old feeling a confusing mixture of impressed and insecure at the same time.

Cosmo lit up with quietly despondent wails and shifts of light along their rod. Marlowe grabbing them and setting her friend across her lap as she sat back in the leather seats of the muscle car. Kory walked out of the diner with her purse, a bag with the diner's logo on it, and a to-go cup. Dropping the bag into Rachel's lap and handing Marlowe the to-go cup that was as big as her face.

"Chicken and Waffles, a cheeseburger with bacon, no tomato, and orange juice. On the house apparently." Kory shrugged as she put on her sunglasses and seatbelt.

"Well, I know one thing about you." Rachel spoke looking into the bag, turning her eyes to the woman in the driver's seat, "Total badass." Rachel and Kory shared a smirk. Marlowe just sat back and watched with blank eyes, trying to swallow orange juice with a lump in her throat.

Kory can protect her better than you ever could. Rachel's safe with her.

After eating Rachel passed out cold, leaving Kory and Marlowe awake and with nothing but disco music filling the suddenly tense air.

"I have to leave." Kory almost slammed on the brakes but, thankfully didn't. Glancing back at the Marlowe in shock.

"I'm sorry, what? Why?"

"I promised Rachel I wouldn't leave until she was safe. She's safe with you. She'll be safe at the convent. My job here is done and I need to get back to the real reason I was in Detroit in the first place." Kory scoffed at Marlowe's reasoning. Seeing through her like crystal.

"Which was what exactly?"

"Finding the person who gave me this." Marlowe placed a hand on her side and Kory's judgmental attitude died down a little.

"And how do you plan to do that? All you have are the clothes on your back, that aren't even yours by the way, and the glow stick." Kory knew she was running; she didn't know why though. Seeing Marlowe and Rachel interact you could tell they cared about each other. The nineteen year old literally almost died trying to protect Rachel, so Kory didn't understand the sudden flighty attitude.

"I have Cosmo, and this," Marlowe held up a slightly cracked, but not beyond repair, cellphone, "And a couple friends."

"What about her?" Marlowe didn't respond right away. Kory seeing the internal struggle even through the wall Marlowe had put up.

"She has my number."

Kory scoffed once again, shaking her head, fingers tapping against the steering wheel in agitation. "You're not even going to say goodbye?" Judgement was clear in the pink-haired woman's voice and it put Marlowe on the defensive.

"We're gonna pass through Columbus in a couple miles, just drop me off there." Marlowe snapped, still mindful of her volume, turning on her phone. Foggy recollection of there being one of Bruce's safe house's in the city. Now she just had to ask the man for access. Great.

As soon as the phone booted up and she input her passcode she opened her messaging app. Hesitating before clicking on Bruce's contact.

What's the code to Columbus OH nest?

Within a minute there was a reply with an address in Columbus, Ohio and a string of numbers. She appreciated him not asking any questions. She wouldn't even know where to begin, it was crazy to think it had only been a week since she had met Rachel. Pulling up the address on google maps she gave the directions to Kory and turned off her phone after sending her thanks to Bruce.

Kory kept her words to herself as she pulled around the back of a fancy looking building in downtown Columbus twenty minutes later. Marlowe shimmying out of the car with Cosmo while Rachel was dead to the world.

"You're doing exactly what he planned to do, you know that right?" Marlowe glared at the woman calling her out.

"No. I'm not. Dick was going to leave because he couldn't handle Rachel, he didn't want to. I'm leaving because I have to. There's a difference." Marlowe defended herself, though not even her own ears believed what she was saying. "Thanks, for the ride. And... you watch out for her, okay?"

Kory nodded, "Anything else?"

"Tell her..." Marlowe pursed her lips as she looked to the ground, "Tell her I'm only a call away. If she ever needs me."

"Will do. Take care of yourself." Kory rolled back up her window and was gone before Marlowe could reply, leaving her standing alone with her thoughts. 

~~*~~

[harrysgloves]

Three to tango

story summary: You, Harry, and Florence have a good time in your makeup trailer.

warnings: Language // THIS IS P*RN WITH LIKE ZERO PLOT // Threesome // w|w // spitting // oral (female receiving) // i have no idea what a production company is so don't come for me.

a/n: Brushing off the metaphorical cobwebs and finally getting back into writing! Woo-hoo! Ending could have been better but... meh. Also, I'm posting from mobile. If it looks weird, blame Tumblr ✌😍

REQUESTED: by @iwannaholdyoutight- and @hazgoldenstyles

And also by all these people... sorry it took so long.. 😁

>>><<<

"Stop movin'." You grumbled for the millionth time that morning. Your focus on covering up all these damn tattoos that you loved had become one of the worst things you had to do almost every morning.

"It tickles." He whined as the makeup brush ran over the inside of his arm. He instantly flinched away from the brush the moment it glided against a particularly sensitive spot.

"Harry!" You groaned, your eyes closed in frustration when he shot you the most adorable puppy eyes.

"'M sorry, kitten." He cooed, his lower lip pouted out when you sighed loudly, grabby hands tried to enclose around your waist before you smacked them away.

"H, I gotta get this done or you're gonna miss set time." 

"Wanna kiss." Those big green eyes flashed up to you from his spot in your makeup chair and you knew there was no way you could say no.

"One kiss." You clarified, knowing damn well he'd use kissing you as a distraction from being tickled again. 

He nodded eagerly before leaning slightly up to your level. Your eyes narrowed, still not sure you could trust that he wasn't going to divert your attention but his lips. 

God, his fucking lips.

They looked so memorizing. The light sheen of chapstick he'd applied earlier was still lingering across the plush pink cushions. His tongue wetting them, taunting you to come closer, and it worked.

You were so naive to think he wouldn't do this.

You squeaked as his hands gripped the fleshy curve of your hips. His lips twitched up into a smile against your own when he pulled you forward onto his lap as quickly as he could. 

You knew you should have tried to protest a bit more. You should have attempted to keep him on track but when his thigh pressed against your clothed core, you knew you were done for. His tongue licked into your mouth as his hand got a firm grip on the round flesh of your ass.

"I see what you two do in here." That sweet voice floated through the thickening air in your makeup trailer as she opened the door. Your eyes lazily blinked open to see your smug boyfriend smile wide across his face. 

Whatever snarky come back that was sitting on the tip of your tongue was quickly choked down to the back of your throat when you looked up to see her wearing that. 

Who knew a robe could turn you on so much?

"Damn." Harry finally commented after your not so subtle shifting of your hips against his thigh. Now he completely understood why you'd suddenly gone silent. 

"Shut up." She mumbled under her breath. Her cheeks flamed red from your shameless stares. 

"You look great, baby." You smiled brightly, your hand extended out for her to take. "Mhm." Harry's quick agreement had both you and Flor rolling your eyes, but a small smile formed at the corner of her lips.

"Wait til you see what he's got to wear." She smiled brightly, her silky soft hand wrapped tightly in yours as she walked towards the both of you. 

"Better hurry up then," you practically jumped off Harry's lap, his lust filled eyes quickly turned fearfully as your eager hands reached for your set of brushes. "Hold him down for me."

"Gonna pay for this later, sweetheart." Harry grumbled as Florence's hand held down his arm. 

"Sort of counting on that, Harold. Now, be a good boy and hold still."

>>>

The rest of your day had been absolute torture. Your core ached, your underwear were beyond ruined, and you couldn't wait another minute for the both of them to finally be off set. 

Instead, the both of them casually took their time, leisurely hanging around to talk to other cast and crew while you were basically jumping out of your skin to get them back into the privacy of your trailer. 

After 30 minutes of them both shooting you sweet smiles and well disguised sultry eyes, you'd had enough. Your feet carried you as quickly across the lot to your haven, your fist clenched in your hand almost as tightly as your core.

You were dripping and the both of them knew you were having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.

It started out innocent enough, Harry's tattoos needed to be touched-up about a million times with the edge of his suit rubbing away the makeup there. You had been practically drooling over the both of them all day but when he saw your legs tighten together, he could help but lay it on thick. His hand rested on the small of your back as he circled around you, nose pressed almost completely against your ear as he whispered a raspy thank you. 

Florence was just as bad and she wasn't ever the instigator out of the three of you. She couldn't help it when she heard a soft whimper leave your lips when she brushed a few hairs off your forehead when you were redoing her makeup after lunch. 

She smiled sweetly, too sweetly, before those plush lips pressed tightly against your own. Her hand laced around your jaw to pull you tighter into her kiss. 

She pulled away from you before you were even close to being done. "Only fair that I get to makeout with you in this chair if Harry gets to do it all the time." 

You felt like you could combust from how turned on you were and you were done waiting for them to do something about it.

You practically slammed the door to your trailer behind you, making sure to lock it before laying yourself out across your couch that sat in the corner of your room.

If they weren't going to do something about it, you would. Your hands fumbled around with the pesky pants that covered your legs, until you were finally free enough to touch where you needed.

The sigh of relief, shuddering feeling that ran through your body from the contact you were craving only lasted a moment before you heard a metal key fumbling around with the locks on your door. 

"Couldn't wait for us?" Harry chuckled, his keys to your trailer thrown on your table top.

"You two were taking forever!" You glared at him through your open legs. 

"Told you she couldn't wait any longer." Florence giggled as she pushed her way past Harry. Her hands on her hips but a smile danced on the corner of her lips.

"Are you two going to help me here or?" You were cocky, impatient, and your fingers weren't anywhere near as good as theirs was.

"Might just watch." Harry shrugged with a smug smile as he plopped down on the end of the couch. The furniture was barely big enough for the three of you to sit normally. His hands moved your legs to lay over top of his own. Your eyes could have shot daggers through him as he loosened his tie, his legs spread wide enough that your hand bumped his thigh with every slow circle around your clit.

"Baby." You whined, your pleading eyes flashing towards Flor. Who was already wearing nothing but a smile, her robe abandoned on the floor, and if you weren't so insanely turned on you would have turned to stick your tongue out to Harry. Gloating that at least one of them was nice enough to help you.

Having sex with them always seemed to be frenzied, blurs of quick paced moments that seemed to fly by.

Her thighs rested on either side of you as Harry peeled away the drenched lacy fabric between your legs. 

Her tongue dominating your own as she pulled down your top enough to free your breast. Her hands pinching and kneading across them as your back arched further off the couch.

You could hear Harry mumbling out a slur of curses, followed by the sound of his zipper. Your legs were bumped up and down in time with his strokes along his swollen cock.

"Soaking my leg, kitten." He groaned at the sight of your cunt soaking the thin material of his brown suit.

"Thought you were just gonna watch." Florence chuckled, her perfectly pouty lips swollen from how hard she'd been kissing you. The edges of them barely touching your own as she talked to Harry.

"Was gonna but she's so fuckin' wet, Flor." His voice was deeper than usual, gravelly, slow, "Bet I could jus'...." 

Your jaw fell open, your back arched off the couch when his fingers filled you. A wild moan ripped from your lungs when he curled them just right.

You could already feel the cord tightening in your lower stomach. You had been so wound up all day long from looking at them you were practically ready to snap within seconds. 

"Awe, poor thing's already about to cum." Florence cooed, her hand around the back of your neck, teasing your jaw with the edge of her nose. 

You always loved hated how well they could read you. How their teasing words made your face burn and your pussy flood with need. 

When she was harshly shifted down further into your chest, her own sweet sounding moan falling from her lips, you couldn't help your own snide remark, "who's the one going to cum too quickly now?"

She probably would have snapped right back at you but she couldn't utter out anything more than whimpers. You knew the feeling, Harry's tongue had a way of doing that, making you both shut up and he had proudly used it on more than one occasion to get you two to stop bickering about dumb stuff. 

Your hand laced through her blonde locks, her lips attached to your neck whenever she could control her mouth long enough to kiss your sweet spots. Your nipples peaked at the contact of her breast against your own, Harry's hand still pumped lazily against your sweet spot, his thumb running tight circles around your clit, and while it wasn't enough, you weren't complaining. You weren't ever sure how he managed to focus on eating one of you out while fingering the other when you knew damn well he was about to combust himself.

You knew she was close when her breathing became erratic, her chest heaving against yours. Her whole body shaking as her orgasm washed across her, her panting barely broke when you felt his warm tongue slipping through your folds.

You moaned at the feeling, your hips instantly shifted downwards, craving every bit of contact you could get from him. 

You could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers with every thick swipe of his tongue across your clit. Your eyes barely staying open when soft kisses were pressed lazily against your neck. 

Such a contrast to the harsh grasp of Harry's free hand digging into your one thigh. His gruts and groans were only muffled by the deafening sound of your soaking core.

Florence perked up her head from your chest, carefully turning herself completely around. Her legs on either side of your head as she draped herself across you to watch Harry at work.

Her sweet honey only inches from your face and fuck did you want a taste. You wet your lips, hands pushing her thighs down but she wouldn't budge.

Your huff of protest was quickly choked down when Harry's tongue ran tight circles around your clit.

"Gonna share?" That sweet voice asking that innocent question about broke you. Your walls clenched tightly trying to not get Harry to stop his fingers from slipping out of you, almost crying when they did anyway.

"Course, baby." 

You squeaked, your legs pushed backwards by your thighs, your body almost folded in half.

"Fuck, you got her soaking the couch." 

You were suddenly very appreciative about the fact neither one of them could see the embarrassment burning through your face. Your forehead pressed to Florence's leg as you whined, not wanting them to point how just how turned on you were.

You heard two simultaneous shushing sounds before your lower lips were pulled apart, the cool air licked across your slick, only making you whine louder.

When you heard and felt Harry's spilt against your core you thought you were done for. Lip tucked so tightly between your teeth you could taste the faintest hint of metallic against your tongue.

Then the softest kitten lick had you losing your mind, her tongue collecting all of his saliva on your clit before swirling around your entrance.

"Fuck," you cried, your nails digging crest moons into the flesh of Florence's thighs. "please, just fuck me already!"

"Don't think she can take anymore teasing Flor." Harry chuckled, yeah, chuckled, from between your thighs. 

"But I was having fun." She pouted, her tongue stopping its mesmerizing movements.

"Can 'ave fun with her after." Harry said as he started to shed the layers of his suit. 

"I'm literally right here!" You complained, your huff of annoyance jammed down your throat when Harry pulled up by your legs. Your face now exposed to his smirking, mischief filled eyes. 

"We know, baby," he cooed, almost too sweetly, something about the look behind his eyes made your pussy flutter but your mind anxious about how sore you'd be tomorrow. "Ass up for me."

You eagerly nodded your head, trying to roll over in your place before the tsking clicks of his tongue stopped your movements. 

"Like this." He said, pulling you off the couch. Your knees on the hard linoleum floor, your elbows resting on the seat of cushion in front of you. Giving Flor just enough space to sit pretty right in front of you.

Your arms instinctively circling around her thighs, pulling her core down to mouth. Her moans filled the small space around you. Vibrating off the walls with an echo. 

"Should 'ave done this in 'ere before." Harry mumbled more to himself than to either one of you as his tip teased your entrance. Your hips swayed instantly at the contact, slowly backing up the little bit you could to feel him slip inside of you.

He hissed, his fingers gripped the round flesh of your ass tightly before he surged forward, stuffing you to the brim with his cock.

"I ruin this pussy 'most everyday and you're still so fuckin' tight." He gritted out through his teeth, your walls clenched down around him at his words.

"Guess you're not fucking her good enough then." 

Your eyes widened in disbelief belief, disconnecting from her core so your mouth could gape in shock.

Did she hate you being able to walk?

"That so?" 

"'S what I said."

"Kitten," You squeaked when you were lifted by your shoulder, your back against Harry's chest. His hands snaked under your shirt just long enough to rip it off. "you can thank Flor tomorrow for why you won't be able to sit." 

"She'll probably be thanking me." The blonde rolled her eyes playfully teasing but enjoying the fact she was getting under his skin.

"Need me to stop, just tap my leg," his deep voice husked into your ear. Your hand tapping his leg, showing him you understood,  before you were hurled back in front of Florence's core by the back of your head. "good girl, now lick." 

You had Harry go hard on you before but when he sheathed himself fully inside of you in one go, you knew you were really going to be in for it. 

Your tongue tried to desperately get Flor off as fast as you could, your fingers slamming into her sweet spot, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You had a hard time knowing where to focus. Her addictive taste or his marksman worthy precision thrusts into your g-spot.

Your body felt like warm liquid was being pumped through your veins. Both of them gripping onto you at different ends, his hips grinding against your ass as he sat balls deep in your pussy. Her hips dragging against your mouth, fucking herself against your face. 

The sound of their collective moans slicked through the sticky, sex filled, air around you. Your mind lost in that space of non-thinking as your body moved back and forth between the two of them.

"Gonna cum all over my cock, sweetheart?" Your walls tightened around him as her fingers dug deeper into the back of your head. Her own cord snapping only moments before your own.

The white burning light washing through your body followed by the familiar gush of fullness in your lower tummy. 

"Holy shit," Florence breathed out, her arm dropped across her forehead. 

"Why haven't we done that here before?" Harry asked through short breaths.

"'S company property." You mumbled against the couch, your head buried into the soft material as your legs gave out to lay on the heaven-like cold floor below you. "We literally just said fuck you to New Line Cinema." 

You heard chuckling from either side of you, both of them still slightly out of breath.

"Hope we don't work with them again then." 

[marzannazillah]

A/N: Hi I want thank you all so much for the get-well wishes last week when I was sick. To make up for missing last week's update on Warmth and a thank you for being so nice I've got two chapters for you all today. Warmth: Chapter 8 is here and 9 should be up shortly after this one. I hope you all enjoy it.

Warmth Masterlist

Warmth: Chapter 8

Sleep has been hard to come by since my return home. I’m either wide awake, lost in thought, or I am afraid to close my eyes for fear of being stuck in another nightmare. Tonight my mind is lost in thought of Eris. So I lay in my bed, the sheets tangled in my legs from tossing and turning. My back is flat against the bed as I stare at the ceiling. The fireplace casts a shadow of light that flickers on the ceiling, its movement soothing. I had been putting off thinking of him, even after my talk with Jarren, I still hesitated to confront things properly. I couldn’t ignore the bond, even if I sought to do so. I feel it in every waking moment, like an ache in me that never ceases to ease. The bright golden string was another issue, while it was invisible to everyone else, it constantly caught my eye. Its presence on my finger felt every day. Even subconsciously I played with it as Jarren had pointed out, I traced its line around my finger daily. I think that I can admit to myself that I want a mate, and may have idealized the idea of one earlier in my life. My bond is not what I imagined it would be like but it is a bond. I am connected to a male that the Mother says is a perfect match for me. Eris is attractive, far more handsome than his father or even some of his brothers. He clearly got his good looks from his mother's side. I believe he is a good male, someone that I could eventually trust. I will even admit that I love him, even when it seems absurd to me that it's possible to love someone I do not know. But I know the feeling, I've been in love before and what I feel now pales in comparison. If I didn't love him, then it wouldn't hurt knowing he killed me. I wouldn't ache for him, missing a presence that I've never even felt. I wouldn't light the fireplace just to watch the shadows of the flames if they didn't bring me comfort because they remind me of him. I love Eris and I want to know him. I want the chance to know him. Maybe that love is what scared me most of all because in my experience love has only destroyed parts of me.

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I watch on the outside as if looking in on a memory of someone else but it's not, it's mine. My stomach clenches as I recognize what's happening, what I'm reliving. Tears begin streaming down my face as I scream for the little girl, me, to stop. My feet stuck to the floor unable to move. Don't cry, don't reach for her. Don't reach for our mother. But I can't stop it as my younger self's ungloved hand reaches for my mother's, begging her to stay. The ice consumed her hand instantly, the High Priestess ripping me away from my mother as her hand clamped down on my mother's wrist, her magic stopping mine from expanding anymore. My mother cries out in pain, her hand turned to ice as she stares at me, her eyes filled with fear.

_________________________________________

I flinch awake, my heart racing as I feel tears streaming down my face. I haven't had that nightmare for years, I try to calm myself, taking shaky deep breaths but my tears continue to come from my body. Sobs wracking my body. I curl into myself as I cry and try to smother my sobbing with my pillow. My mind was frozen on the picture of my mother's eyes filled with fear of me. My mind reliving the worst moment in my childhood, the one action that changed everything. I was sent away after that, my father wanted me far away and had me sent away under the guise of learning to control my magic. I was taken away from my home, growing up in a temple instead of my home. For the next 15 years of my life, I was raised by the High Priestess. I spent the majority of my time learning about my magic, having it tested and observed by old fae scholars. Learning to push it down, and hide it from others. To manage the well of power inside me that filled more with each passing year. What I did learn about my magic only upset me because I would never be able to control it only hide it. They told me my magic was old and powerful. Magic so old that they had no name for why death couldn't hold me, why even if my head was severed from my body my magic pulled me back together with a force no one could stop. That even the writing they found gave little information on what all I could do. The stories had degraded and were lost to time. But somehow even that magic never hurt me as much as my other had. I could ignore it, unlike the one that turned my touch deadly. The one that hurt my mother. That magic that ran so deeply in my veins that my blood frosted over when it was spilled. My touch would consume everything in ice no matter how much I trained. I would only be able to control how I used it, binding it with weapons or letting it consume my enemies and the ground they walked on. I spent 15 years learning that there was no way for me to touch someone without hurting them no matter how much I wanted to. I would forever be confined to enchanted gloves that blocked my magic to protect those who I cared for.

When I turned 20 the High Priestess sent word to my father that I should return home. She had tried to hide the fact that my father resisted, that he didn't want me home but she could never lie well. Eventually, he gave in letting me come home, to this day I do not know what the High Priestess said to convince him. I didn't expect a grand welcome but I expected my parents to be at least present for appearances. I was wrong, Kallias was the only one to meet me as I stepped out of the sled. No one but my brother came, he was older than the last time I had seen him. His shoulders broadened, his frame had packed on more muscle, and his once long hair cut short. As I stepped out of the sled slowly, my heart ached for my parents.

Kallias didn't hesitate for a second wrapping me in his arms, and telling me how much he missed me. He led me inside and back to my room, filling me in on what I had missed while I was gone. Of a female, he was enamored with. He left me in my room to get settled before he returned later that evening to walk with me to dinner. I had hoped that it would go well. It didn't. My father wouldn't even acknowledge my presence, my mother looked both sad and sacred. So I left before dessert, even Kallias couldn't ease the tension my presence caused. For hundreds of years that was my reality. I avoided meals with my family by choosing to eat by myself, sometimes Kallias would join me. Kallias and the reindeer were the only things keeping me from running away and leaving behind all the pain. I found my sanctuary helping tend to the reindeer with Karieck, it was a way for me to do something that distracted me from my pain. But then my father grew ill, a sickness taking over his body. And as it took him our court made preparations for my brother to assume the role of High Lord. Even in the end, I waited for him to call me to his side to speak to me. A dying wish to lay to rest his hatred of me. Yet he didn't, even on his deathbed, he didn't want anything to do with me. My mother sought refuge from her grief in Kallias, but never me. I felt it as my father took his final breath, the air so still, it felt unnatural. I remember feeling as if his soul wandered through me, my skin prickled with cold as I felt the world around me shift. My magic reacted, swelling in my chest as if growing in power before it dissipated, passing through me leaving me with an odd ache of missing something and a pull. I left my room following the pull I felt, and I let it lead me to my brother holding my mother as he consoled her. I felt his power shift slowly, the ache I felt before seeping into my bones further as if something was trying to hold on to me but then it faded away leaving an odd sense of missing something. As I stood outside the room not daring to take a step in, my mother's eyes caught mine, fear, and pain clouded them. So I left, turning away, I didn't need any words to know I wasn't wanted. So I grieved alone, for a father I never really knew and that didn't want me as a daughter. Eventually, my mother passed as well, the healers deemed it was from the heartbreak of losing my father. In the next years, Kallias took to being High Lord well despite grieving for our parents, parents that he did know, unlike me. In the years after their deaths, I spent my time helping Kallias as I could, stepping into the roles my mother usually filled. He was happy to have me involved I could tell, I think it eased his transition to have someone else there by his side. Helping him learn to navigate our court's politics. I couldn't say I was happy then, I was content but not happy. I wasn't truly happy until Jarren was assigned as one of my guards. His entrance into my life sprouted a joy in my life, a friend that I desperately needed. He showed me how to live, and taught me not to dwell on the past I couldn't change. That childhood was confined to age. For once I truly didn't feel like running.

I love Kallias, he is my brother and he never blamed me for what I had done to our mother or feared me because of it but he was still a reminder of what I never had. Of the childhood, I never got with our parents. He is a good brother and that is why I protected him Under the Mountain. It is why I took the blame for the rebellion against Amarantha. I took the death sentence meant for him, and the punishment for our court. Our court needed him, not me. So I let the magic I was born with do something good, death wouldn't keep me so I sacrificed myself for him knowing that it would reveal my power to Amarantha. I knew what would happen when she saw, and I took that fear I felt and hid it away accepting what was to come. Maybe it was my way of thanking my brother for everything he had done, for standing by me no matter that our parents had turned their backs on me. For assigning Jarren to guard me, for knowing what I needed, for always reaching out. If I couldn't be a good daughter, at least I could be a good sister.

____________________________________________

After the night I had, my body felt heavier than normal and my eyes strained in the bright sunlight. I would have stayed in bed the rest of the day if I didn't have plans for lunch with Kallias and Viviane. So I pulled myself out of bed, put on some warm clothes, and made my way to the dining room. I was excited to see him, and Viviane, we hadn't had much time to spend in leisure with each other. Kallias was busy with so much upon our return, and Viviane had stepped into the roles that I had filled prior, as his now mate and wife. I spent my newfound freedom training with Jarren, tending to the reindeer with Karieck, and walking through our court. I wanted to be more involved. I enjoyed taking my time to visit and chat with my people, chasing after the children when they invoked a snowball fight with me. I like to keep myself busy, keeping my mind from wandering to unpleasant times. As I approached the entry to the dining room I could hear Kallias and Viviane laughing. My heart both swelled and ached at the sound. So utterly happy for Kallias but a painful reminder of my own incomplete bond. As I entered I saw Kallias had pulled Viviane's chair closer to him, I called out to announce myself,

“You should just have her sit in your lap rather than scratch the floor by pulling the chair around.”

Kallias head looks up as his eyes seem to sparkle with life as he says,

“That is a brilliant idea sister? What do you say, my love? My lap makes for a much better seat.” I take a seat across from them, I laugh as Viviane rolls her eyes at Kallias before turning to me,

“Don't give your brother any ideas, he's a handful as it is.”

I see Kallias' mock hurt from the corner of my eye as I reach for the glass of water in front of me. I take a sip lightly as Viviane slaps my brother's hand away from her shoulder where it had begun to drift to her breast, “Keep your hands to yourself Kallias you're going to scandalize your poor little sister.”

Kallias pouts at the accusation and says, “If I need to be worried about scandalizing her then perhaps she shouldn't let her suitors jump naked from her balcony.” His eyes flick to me, amused.

“It was a one-time brother,” I say, trying to hide my amusement and slight embarrassment.

Kallias laughs, “Yes but my eyes are forever burned with the image of Jarren naked.”

We sit there together, eating and laughing. As we are finishing a messenger comes in with a letter for Kallias. His eyes darken as he reads it, Viviane leaning closer scanning the letter as well, her hand reaching out to rest on his arm.

“What is in the letter brother?”

Kallias’s eyes flick to me, his mouth turned in a frown, “Rhysand has sent a request for a meeting of the High Lords.”

My heart drops to my stomach, if Rhysand is reaching out then that must mean something has happened. Something bad.

It's Viviane who continues, “A war is starting with Hybern.”

Tags: @legionsofthehungry @momlo @daily-dose-of-sass

[starks-hero]

I Remember All of Them

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky has a nightmare and it leads to a late night conversation.

Word Count: 2,029

Warnings: angst, mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol

You'd woken up to an empty bed. You had turned on your side and lazily run your hand along the mattress, hoping to find a broad chest or metal arm but instead being greeted with an empty space beside you.

Your feet met the cool floorboards as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood. You couldn't help but worry as you pulled on one of Bucky's shirts and left the room. You tried rationalising your thoughts despite your tired mind. Maybe he just couldn't sleep and went out on a run, he could have been in the bathroom, there were multiple harmless and simple possibilities. But the fear that it might just be something else, something bad, was enough to stir you from bed and go looking for him.

Your footsteps echoed in the hallway as you made your way to the kitchen and you sighed when you found Bucky sitting on a stool at the counter. Your relief melted away as you took in his appearance. He was hunched over the counter, arms crossed and hair dishevelled with what you recognised as a glass of scotch sitting idle in front of him. A weight set in your chest.

"Bucky," you said timidly and he jumped at your voice. He turned to you with a fearful expression, the metal of his arm whirling and clanking in defence as if he were ready for a fight. But when he realised it was you his tough, soldier facade fell away and he exhaled slowly. He didn't say anything, slumping further down in his chair as you joined him in the darkened room, not bothering to turn on the light.

You gingerly placed your hand against his shoulder and he almost unnoticeably flinched away. Your heart sank.

"Nightmare?" You asked and he nodded silently, hardened glare boring into the marble of the counter. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Didn't want to scare you," he grumbled.

He didn't say anything else as you took a seat next to him, your hand slipping from his shoulder and resting against his bicep.

"You think when I wake up in the middle of the night and you're not there it's any less scary?"

Bucky sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. He glanced at you with tired eyes.

"I'm sorry."

He hadn't meant to worry you. When he'd woken up in a cold sweat with a scream dying in his throat and turned to find you sleeping peacefully beside him he felt panic swell in his chest. The nightmare wasn't any different than the rest of them. It felt just as real as the others. But it's what had happened in the dream, what he'd done, that filled him with the overwhelming urge to get away from you. His subconscious couldn't help but torture him further by replacing the image of his victim with you. And replacing their screams with your voice, begging him to stop.

"It's okay, baby." Your voice pulled him back and grounded him. "Why don't you tell me what happened," you coaxed gently and he immediately shook his head.

"Don't want to."

"Bucky-"

"I can't," he said quickly, his voice sharp. He swallowed and shook his head and you noticed the tears building in his eyes. Gently, you slowly ran your hand up his arm and brushed it through his hair. He exhaled frailly.

"Why not?"

It was quiet for a moment as Bucky wrung his hands. His gaze lingered on the intricate workings of the vibranuim for a few seconds more before he closed the prosthetic hand into a loose fist.

"I don't want to lose you," he admitted quietly. His voice was barely above a whisper and he refused to look at you as you listened attentively, comfortingly rubbing his back. He felt his chest grow tighter as everything else fell past his parted lips all at once. "You're all I have. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time and I can't risk losing you. I can't."

Your expression saddened as Bucky hid his face in his hands. You carefully wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into your side and he went willingly, flesh arm wrapping around your neck. You shushed him gently and his aching muscles relaxed against you. Horrifying images from his nightmare flashed to the forefront of his mind but he did his best to dismiss them as he clutched onto you tighter.

"You won't lose me, Bucky. I'm not going anywhere." You pulled back slightly and cupped his face with your free hand, your thumb tracing his cheek. "Your past doesn't scare me. I promised you that I'd stick by you no matter what happens and I meant it. You don't have to hide from me, Buck."

Your hand fell from his cheek and gently rested against his forearm and he did his best to focus on your touch. He took a deep breath as he sat up and cleared his throat.

"When I have them they feel so real it's like I'm reliving it. They're not just nightmares, they're memories. And I remember all of it." He said quietly, eyes not leaving the counter. He felt his stomach tie itself in a knot and an uncomfortable weight setting in on his chest. Yet he willed himself to keep going.

"Tonight it was a mission in Germany, sometime during the eighties. A hydra intel agent had gone rough and they sent me to take care of him. Hydra couldn't afford to have any loose ends so it was my job to tie them all up. I eliminated the target like I was supposed to but-"

He hesitated and inhaled sharply. He was fidgeting anxiously, his fingers tapping relentlessly against the counter. His hand was itching to reach out and take the glass of liquor still sat in front of him. If anything just to feel something other than the pain in his chest. But he with-held the urge. He knew it wouldn't help, but telling you would.

"A young couple saw. Jesus, they were just kids." His voice broke. "But I had my orders. No witnesses. So, I killed them."

Tears pricked his eyes and he found it difficult to hold them at bay. A lump was forming in his throat and he felt moments away from breaking.

"I killed them."

He gritted his teeth as he grappled with himself and the tears began to fall. The nightmare had been among the worst he'd had in months. He'd learned to find a certain peace in some, knowing those he killed were bad, corrupt people who had hurt others. But this time that wasn't the case. They were innocent and young and had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. They could have had a life together. Bucky couldn't help but think how if it had not been for him then they could have been married with children, grandchildren by now. But they weren't. Their lives had been cut short by him.

You stood and pulled him into a gentle embrace as a quiet sob left his lips. Your hand ran through his hair as he rested his head against your stomach. Still seated, his arms encircled your waist.

You let him cry as he held onto you like a lifeline. Only when the tears had stopped and his voice had been reduced to a hoarse whimper did his grip ease ever so slightly. You pulled away and sat back down facing him. His expression was blank as he glanced at his hands, pale cheeks still stained by tears and his eyes red and puffy.

You reached up and gingerly brushed away the tears still clung to his cheek with the pad of your thumb.

"Bucky," you tried timidly but he didn't look at you. "Baby, listen to me."

He sighed and brokenly lifted his head. The vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. You kept your tone soft and reassuring.

"What happened wasn't your fault. You didn't have a choice. You're just as much of a victim as they were. Hydra killed those people. Hydra created him, the winter soldier. And he's not you, Bucky. He never was."

With a tired shake of his head, Bucky huffed.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know you." You answered simply and Bucky's expression softened. "I know the real you. I know you don't like it when people call you James because it makes you feel old. I know that you love reading books and drinking green tea. And I know that even though you say you're not a people person you're really good with kids."

Bucky's brows creased and his lip trembled slightly as he looked to you and hung on to each and every one of your words. You smiled, tenderly tracing his jaw with your hand and he sighed, leaning into your touch.

"You're not a killer, Bucky. Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over. And don't compare yourself to the people who forced you to do it."

Your words hit home and Bucky found himself standing from his seat and pulling you to his chest before his mind could completely catch up with him. He held you tightly, composure threatening to slip away again but this time for a completely different reason. You softly uttered words of comfort as he pressed you to his chest.

"I love you," you said quietly after a moment and you heard, or rather you felt, Bucky chuckle quietly.

"Sometimes I can't help but wonder why."

His hands didn't leave the small of your back as you pulled away just enough to look up at him. Your reassuring smile sent a wave of warmth through him.

"Because you're a better man than you give yourself credit for. And because you're kind-hearted, strong, sweet, brave. I could go on forever. You're a hero, Bucky, and a good man. Whether your mind lets you believe it yet or not."

Sighing with a teary smile, Bucky pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your temple. You felt the tension slowly melt from his shoulders and tensed muscles. As if a weight had been lifted from his burdened mind.

I love you too." He mumbled against your forehead and you hummed quietly, nuzzling into him. You stood together in shared silence for a few minutes, or maybe more, neither of you were counting. The chill gradually making its way up your spine and nipping at your exposed skin, along with the growing urge to yawn was the only thing that caused you to pull away and break the serenity of the moment. It was still pretty early and a few more hour in bed sounded ideal. You both needed it.

As you pulled away from the warmth of Bucky's embrace your eyes landed on the counter and you heard Bucky quietly sigh beside you.

"I didn't drink any," he explained, motioning to the untouched glass of scotch sitting on the counter top.

You smiled sadly and leaned up to kiss his cheek. He was always so hard on himself. Sometimes he seemed to forget he was only human.

"Don't worry about it, it's okay." You said comfortingly and he let his head fall gently against your shoulder. "Let's get back to bed, hm? We don't have to sleep if you don't want to. You can just rest and we can talk a little more?"

Bucky smiled against you. "I'd like that." A gentle kiss was placed to your shoulder. "Sounds perfect."

You gently caught Bucky's hand as you both left the kitchen and trudged back towards your shared room. The covers and sheets had grown cold as you crawled back into bed but Bucky didn't mind. He didn't mind at all. Certainly not as you lay beside him, his head coming to rest against your shoulder as your hand worked its way through his dishevelled hair. The nightmares were nothing but a thing of the past as he closed his eyes and sighed. He was home, safe and not alone.

tag list: @miraclesoflove​ @bakerstreethound​ @nahthanks​ @doozywoozy​ @the-queer-dungeoneer​ @kealohilani-tepsie