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workingforthewidow · 1 year ago

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“The only bad you've ever done was to see the good in me”

—

It’s birthday weekend for the Boys! So we are doing a chapter today, a chapter tomorrow, and the big birthday chapter Monday aka their birthday! So welcome to Part 4 of Sun to Me!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Half proof read there will be mistakes

This story is NSFW and not for minors- if you are under 18 go ask your legal guardian if you can watch the movie.

Warnings: kidnapping, forced marriage, dub-con, attempted non-con, abuse, Stockholm syndrome, age gap (15 years- K&C are 19 Sinclairs are 33 soon to be 34 yes we will have a birthday party for them). Don’t like it don’t read it!

THIS CHAPTER HAS VERY DARK SCENES! This chapter contains abuse and twisted emotions. This is a work of fiction.

“Let me go! Fuck! Let me go!” Katie screamed as she was forced back into the first room she had woken in after her kidnapping. She landed hard on the concrete floor and looked up continuing to scream until a sharp sting spread across her face. Her hand flew to cup her cheek as she realized he had hit her. “Fuck you.” She gritted through her teeth, even her jaw was sore from the strength of his slap. He grabbed her by the throat lifting her off the floor like she was a sack of potatoes. Her hands gripped at his scratching at him to try and get him to release her. He slammed her against the wall and his grip tightened on her neck.

Her head started to hurt from lack of blood flow and oxygen. Being slammed against the wall probably didn’t help either.

“You can’t… keep us… here… for..ever.” She gasps out as black spots started to fill her vision.

Vincent leaned close to her and pressed the wax lips of his mask to her ear, “I can and I will.” He rasped out before tightening his grip once more until she was limp in his hold. He let her limp body fall to the mattress in a crumbled pile. He was blinded by rage. He took the metal collar from the ground and attached it to her neck. He then ripped her dress down the middle with his bare hands and complete tore it off her body. Then he left her there. She had a lesson to learn. His angel was not leaving him. She was his now. He owned her. He went to his studio and gather his sketch pads and pencils. He sat down in a chair near her and started to draw, draw her in all the ways he could dream of.

—

Caroline swore Bo’s eyes were red with anger and steam was coming from his ears.

“You stupid fucking bitch. You know better than that. Thought you were smart girl!” His voice was so dark like the devil himself. He threw her to the floor and ripped his belt from his pants. Before she could even react he had the belt around her neck. “On your knees slut. Time you really learned your fucking place here.” He pulled the belt and she was forced to her knees in front of him. He wrapped the long end of the belt in his fist and his other hand went to her hair wrapping it in a fist yanking her back. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“Oh no baby. You don’t get to cry yet. You did this to yourself. Now show me you can be a good little girl again and show me how sorry I know you are.” He forced her hand to the button of his jeans.

Her hands shock as undid the button and pulled the zipper down. She seemed to be going to slow for his likely because he yanked her hair again and growled. Quickly she slid his jeans and boxers down his legs let his hard cock spring free into her face. She looked to him again with more tears hoping some shred of humanity was still in this mans soul, if he had a soul.

‘You’re doing this to survive Caroline. Mama will forgive you. The high powers will forgive you. This is a test from the devil.’

“You have 2 seconds before I snap your fucking neck.” With the threat looming over her she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue licking up and down his length. She wanted to vomit, the foreign taste bitter on her tongue. Bo moaned and threw his head back. He soon grew tired of this thought wanting to feel himself in her hot mouth. He forced himself inside her, causing her to gag when he hit the back of her throat. How she managed to not throw up was a miracle.

“Fucking take it slut. This is your punishment for being bad. Make Daddy feel good.” He felt her try to relax her throat to accommodate his size but she still struggled and chocked. Finally having enough he dropped the belt and took her head in both hands. He held her head still as he fucked her face without mercy. She was sobbing, struggling to breathe, and saliva was dripping down her chin. Fuck she was a sight for sore eyes.

“Good girl. Take Daddy’s cock in that pretty little mouth.” He praised her quickly, gotta remind her what good she gets when she behaves. Bo moaned and felt his release coming on. “You better fucking swallow slut.” He groaned out as hot ropes of his cum hit the back of her throat. The bitter taste made her want to gag again. He slid out of her mouth and watched as she swallowed his seed. What a waste, should have been in her pussy.

Just as he was about to praise her again she looked to him with fierce eyes.

“I hate you, Fuck you asshole.” She sneered and to top it off spit towards his face. Because of her position on the floor it hit his stomach but he where it was meant to hit.

“You’re in for it now babygirl.” He grabbed the belt again and pulled her to the bed. “Hands and knees now.” He ordered and she debated on defying him but there was something about his face that told her to listen. Or he might actually kill her this time. She crawled up the bed on her hands and knees and cried as he pushed her head to the mattress making her ass go higher. “You are lucky bitch. Normally I’ll make you count and say thank you Daddy. But today I’ll let it slide.” He flipped her dress up and was reminded he had hidden all her panties from her. Oh he was a smart man, he praised himself. His hands kneaded the skin of her ass and she could feel his nails digging in leaving marks.

Without warning his hand came down on her right ass cheek. The pain was unlike anything she ever felt. He continued blow after blow alternating between her left and right cheek. She lost count at 24. The pain blinding her to the point her vision blurred and started to fade. She mentally counted 24 before she went numb and her body limp giving over to the pain.

Bo looked over her, that should teach her to disobey. He really didn’t want to have to punish her so harshly this early on but how else was she to learn. He moved her body so she laid properly on her stomach on the bed. He let her take a cold shower later to soothe her skin. She’d be bruised and blistered for a week. Sure as hell couldn’t sit down maybe couldn’t even walk right. He kissed his hair softly and took a set of handcuffs out of the nightstand drawer locking her to the bed frame. He’d come back at lunch to check on her.

—

Pain. All Katie could feel was pain. Pain in her back, pain in her neck, and she had the worst migraine ever. No hangover could compare to this hell. Her eyes opened slowly and she realized she was back in the underground studio, the metal collar back on her neck. She looked around for Vincent but couldn’t see him or even hear him. She was about to shout for him when she noticed a tray on the floor with a bottle of water, bottle of pain killers, and another letter. Her name spelled correctly in his script like handwriting, Her father wrote like and so did she, it must be an artist thing.

~My angel, drink the water and take the medicine. I will come back for you in a few hours.~

Hours? How was she suppose to know when that was? There were no clock or windows here to tell the time. She did do as instructed and chugged the water bottle throwing back 4 of the pain killers. Probably more than what was prescribed but in her condition she wanted to take the whole bottle. She couldn’t do that to Caroline. It wasn’t fair to leave her here. Katie threw the pill bottle across the room so she couldn’t reach it. She laid back down and took note that he had torn her dress off. She saw it laying in a torn crumpled mess near her. She couldn’t control the tears that poured down her face. She became a sobbing screaming mess. No true words came out just screams of pure agony. This must be what hell feels like. Oh how she hoped hell was worse and thats where these brothers spent the rest of forever. Burning and rotting in the deepest pits of sulfur. She continued to scream until she wore herself out and the medicine took over. The combination pulling her into a dreamless sleep.

Vincent could hear her screams from where he was in the museum. He was standing directly over her making repairs to one of Mama’s older pieces. The small vent in the floor allowed her voice to echo up to him. He wanted to return to her. Tell his angel she was okay and he wasn’t mad at her anymore. She could apologize and they could go back to their bedroom and lay together, as they did before. He had hoped he would be able to let her sleep without the restraints but that would not happen for a while.

“Give ‘em an inch they take a damn mile.” Bo’s voice rang through the empty museum. “I could hear her screaming all the way in the shop. Didn’t think you had it in ya, Vinny.” He crossed his arms and smirked looking to his twin.

Vincent only shrugged in response, still thinking of his angel, all alone underground. She hated him more now than she did before. But she would learn, she would come to listen and love him.

“They’ll come around. Things are gonna be okay now. Have to watch those hands though, make sure they aren’t scheming on us. Mama’s dreams are coming true. Town will be done soon and we’ll have families. She’d be proud of us. ‘Bout dinner time. Gonna wake her up make her cook for me. I’ll have her make something for you and I’ll bring it down. Can’t let them near each other for a whiles. If you keep her upstairs at night, make sure she cant sneak out. ” Bo instructed and clapped over the shoulder before walking away.

—

Caroline didn’t want to open her eyes even though a quiet voice was telling her to wake up. A warm hand was making feather like touches on her ass. Even with the softness it burned.

“Dinner time, baby. Gotta get up and cook for your family. Then you can take a shower and I’ll take care of you. Were a good girl taking your spanks. I know you’ll be able to learn.” Bo’s voice was soft as he pulled her up and sat her on his lap. She shrieked in pain and tears escaped her eyes. “I know baby. I know it hurts but ya gotta learn your place.” He kissed her tears from her cheeks and moved her to stand in front of him.

He was surprised when she immediately fell to her knees and placed her hands on his jean clad thighs looking up at him through her tear filled lashes. He put his hand on her cheek and brushed away more tears.

“I’m sorry I disobeyed you, Bo. You’re the head of the family and I need to follow your rules. You decide what is best for me and our family.” The words tasted rotten on her tongue like spoiled milk but she said them knowing he would like that.

“Good girl. You’re forgiven baby. Come on now, dinner ain’t gonna cook itself.” He stood and pulled her up to stand next to him. He bent down and to press a kiss to her forehead but she turned her head up capturing his lips on hers. He pulled away and ran a hand through her hair another mutter of ‘good girl’ under his breath.

They walked together to the kitchen and Caroline was surprised she could walk at all. Every step was painful and tears sat in the corners of her eyes waiting to fall. Once in the kitchen Bo sat at the table and watched her.

“Whatever you make, make sure its easy to transport. I gotta take it downstairs to Vincent and your sister.” At the mention of Katie, Caroline took a sharp inhale. Of course they would be separated right now. She nodded and looked through the kitchen to see what Lester had brought her. She would have to make the grocery list tomorrow. There wasn’t a lot. Mostly things that could be thrown together quickly. But he did bring tomatoes she could make a quick tomato soup and grilled ham and cheese.

“Umm, there’s not a lot since Lester hasn’t be able to shop off a list from me. I think I can make tomato soup and grilled ham and cheese. If thats okay? Or I can find something else, maybe.” Her voice trailed off and Bo took her hand.

“You make whatever you want baby. This is the one place in the house you can call the shots.” He kissed her hand and let his lips linger a bit too long.

“Okay.” Her voice was soft afraid a wrong move would upset him again. He watched as she moved around the kitchen, figuring out where all the pots and pans were kept. Her hands went to the knife block but froze when she realized they were gone. He was one step ahead of her. Taking the sharps so she couldn’t cut him. “Bo?”

“Yes baby?”

“Can’t prep the food without a knife. I mean I can try but…” Her voice tapered off when he stood going to a high cabinet she hadn’t even noticed before. There was a lock on it and he had the key. Opening it he took down a knife but held it close to his thigh. He took a step towards her and used his free hand to whirl her so her back hit his chest. Without warning the knife was against her throat, “You try anything stupid with this and you’re in for it baby. You thought that last punishment was harsh, it will be nothing compared to the beating you get if you try anything with this knife. Understand?”

Her whole body trembled, “Yes, sir. I understand. I’ll be good.” He took the knife from her throat and gently placed it in her hand. He kissed the top of her head and went back to sitting at the table watching her.

It wasn’t long before she was done and had food plated in front of him. He looked at and narrowed his eyes.

“You need to eat. I’ve told you that.”

She signed and made herself a plate much smaller than his but he accepted that. She sat it down at the seat next to him but he pulled it next his and moved her onto his lap. She hissed at the pain.

“It‘ll get better baby.” He cooed to her trying to calm her. “Eat. Then a cold shower will be good for you.” He took a bite of his food and nearly moaned. “Damn baby. How the hell do you make everything taste so good?”

The rest of the email was eaten in silence. Once he was done he let her up. “Now, I’m going to take food to Vincent and Katie. You will stay here and do your housework.” His words were simple and could have been borderline sweet then he stood. Once he was full height his hand went back and smacked her across the face. “Anything, fucking anything, is out of place when I get back…”

“I’ll get punished I know. I’ll be good.” His slapped her again.

“Don’t fucking interrupt me bitch. Get to work.” He made sure to get the knife and clean it before putting it away. He took the leftover food and made his way downstairs to drop it off with Vincent and go over plans for the next day.

When he came back 30 minutes later to the kitchen it was spotless. Even the knobs on the oven were shiny. How she did it that fast he will never know. Caroline was leaning against the counter holding a tissue to her nose. He could see bits of red on it.

“Baby, what happened?” His face looked full of concern.

“I don’t know. I was cleaning the floor and noticed it had started bleeding. Maybe the bleach was too strong.” That was a lie. She felt her nose start to bleed moments after he hit her, but she’d never admit that. She moved her tissue from her nose and let him check.

He looked her over, “Looks like it stopped. Good job cleaning baby. Looks almost as pretty as you in here. Let’s go up and shower.”

She nodded and followed him up the stairs to the bathroom. He let her in ahead of him and then closed the door. He turned on the water and turned to her.

“Shower together, save water.” He took his clothes off and pulled off her dress and bra. Her eyes widen, realizing she was completely naked in front of her kidnapper. She tried to cover herself but he held her arms. “Don’t hide from your husband baby. You’re beautiful.” He stepped into the shower and took her with him.

She tried to keep her eyes focused on the wall over his shoulder.

‘Mama will forgive this Caroline. You’ll still go to better place in the end.’ This became a chanted mantra in her head.

He took her hips and spun them around so she was under the water. When the water hit her ass she screamed and beat her fist on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to his chest letting the cool water flow down her back.

“Hurts, hurts. Please stop.” She whimpered into his chest. Bo shook his head and moved them under the water even more letting her hair get wet. Water fell from her hair and down her face. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the pain.

“Gotta clean you baby.” She heard the sound of a bottle opening and felt his hands rub soap up and down her back and arms. “Won’t worry about your hair tonight. You can shower again in the morning and wash it and dry it. Taken tomorrow off to spend the day at home with you.” He continued to rub her back and noticed she tenses the lower down her back he got.

“Okay, that’ll be nice.” She whispered out through the pain she was still feeling. She was thankful he wasn’t make this shower sexual. She was still scared and uncomfortable but it was like he actually cared for her. Soon he had cleaned himself and cut off the water. Getting out he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her before wrapping one around his waist.

She followed him back to the bedroom and waited for his instructions. He went to his dresser and took out of his shirts and his boxers. He threw the shirt at her.

“Let’s go to bed, baby.” He laid down and watched as she carefully pulled his shirt on. He was right, it did hit her mid-thigh. She crawled up the bed and carefully laid down on her side with her head on his chest. She hated that her hair was wet but he had promised her a shower again in the morning.

Bo’s hand went to her hair and brushed through the wet tangles.

“We’ll have a nice day tomorrow baby. Spend all day together. You can show me what a good girl you can be for me. But I can’t trust you right now. Give me your hand, baby.” He kissed her forehead and she gave him her hand without a fight. He took the handcuffs and locked her wrist to his “Once you can be trusted again we won’t have to do this.” Caroline nodded and got back on him, gently rubbing her face against his chest.

Her mind was swirling, thoughts racing. They had to get out of here. This place was a living hell. No matter what they had to do, her and Katie we’re getting out of here.

—

It was dark when Katie woke up again. The candles around her had gone out, leaving the room cold. Without her clothes Katie was freezing.

Where was Vincent? She couldn’t tell if he was in the room with her not. She could barely see her hand in front of her face.

“Vincent? Are you here?” When she didn’t hear any footsteps she started to panic. Had he left her here to die? Was this the end for her? Panic and fear fully setting in she started screaming his name and begging for him.

Finally the door opened and he stepped into the room, the candles from the studio providing little light. He knelt in front of her and took her face in hand. Using his thumps to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. She pressed her cheek into his palm and basked at the feeling of his warm hand on her cold skin.

She reach up and covered his hand with her own. “I’m sorry Vincent. I’m sorry i was stupid. Please, please can we go back to bed? It’s so cold here. Please, I’ll be good. I’ll be good for you. I promise.” She stated repeating over and over until he put his finger to her lips. He wiped her tears again and stood up walking to the door. “No! Please don’t leave me again. Please please take me with you.” Sobs wrecked through her body at the thought of being alone again. He still left the room but quickly returned with food.

Caroline had made it. She could tell because it was one of their favorite meals. Their dad would make it for them when their mom was busy with her society meetings.

The food was a little cold but she ate anyway, basically inhaled it. She didn’t know how long she had been in the studio. She had woke up a few times but only for a few moments before sleep took over. When her food was gone she sat the plate on the mattress next to her and looked up to Vincent. She wondered when he ate. Obviously never in front of her but would he take his mask off for his brothers? It seemed a touchy subject and she was in no way in a position to ask touchy questions.

A shiver ran down her spine, the cold air biting her skin again. She tried to move closer to Vincent to try and get warmth from his body heat but the chain around her pulled her back. He was just out of reach. She whimpered and held out her arms to him.

“Please? I’m sorry. Please just make it warmer. Make me warmer. I’m freezing. I learned my lesson. I’ll stay, I’ll be good.” She pulled her arms back and rubbed her hands up and down them. She looked to him to see if his body language had changed at all. It was then she noticed the strip of cloth in his hand. He moved closer to her and went behind her. She bit her tongue to keep from saying anything. ‘Just go along with it. Just play along. You knew this would happen at some point. Just think of Caroline. Survive for Caroline,’ she started to mentally prepare for what she thought was about to happened.

The fabric was placed over her eyes and tied around the back of her head. She sat and waited his hands to touch her body. But the feeling never came. She was beginning to worry he had slipped out of the room again but suddenly she felt his hands on her face. Tilting her head up he brushed the remaining tears from her cheeks. Then she felt his lips on hers. She could feel something on his face and it wasn’t his mask. She tried to touch him but he bit her lip in warning. She put her hands on his shoulders and he seemed to approve of that. Damn why did the psycho have to be a good kisser?

After another moment he pulled away. His hands falling from her face. She stay still as one of his wax figures waiting for his cue to do anything. The blindfold was removed as well as the collar on her neck. She looked to him still waiting but she started shivering. He opened his arms for her and she dove in to him. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as the tears returned along with another string of apologizes.

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs on his waists. She thought they would go to the bedroom upstairs but he stopped in his studio. He sat them both in his work chair letting her turn so her back touched his chest. He took a piece of paper and handed it to her. Her name written in his script on the fold page.

~My angel. I hate nothing more than not being able to calm you screams. But you must learn angel. You must be good. The plans won’t work if you’d listen. How can we expect our children to listen if their mother can’t.~ Katie gasps at the children part. ~Tomorrow we will spend the day together here in the studio. I can show you how to make sculptures. Or you can draw. Whatever you want tell me and I will get it for you, my sweet little angel.~

Katie found it funny how he called her his ‘angel’ when in her mind he was a demon.

“Or I could tattoo you.” She laughed softly making his hear soar. “I’m kidding. Unless you want me to do it. All my supplies are in the car.” She felt his chest move in what felt like as laugh. He took his pen and wrote the short reply on the bottom of the original note.

~Maybe next time. Bed?~

Katie nodded and stood waiting for him. He stood and picked her up again.

“I have legs I can walk.” But he shook his head. “Fine.” She groaned and rested her head on his shoulder. She glanced up and noticed what looked like scars peaking out from the edge of his mask. Was he burned somehow? Or maybe in an accident. She would save that talk for another time.

They made it to the upstairs and he gave her a few minutes into he bathroom to freshen up. She almost threw up when she saw herself in the mirror, dark bruises in the shapes of hands circled her throat from where he had chocked her. A faint hand could be seen on her face from the slap.

Vincent of course stood guard at the door to make sure she didn’t run off to find Caroline. When she was done they went back to the bedroom. She went for her suitcase to see if any of her pajamas were still inside but he took her hand showing her to the dresser. Opening the top drawer it was full of her things now. Undergarments and pajamas arrange in a neat order. She took out an oversized shirt and a pair of athletic shorts. Slowly she took off her bra and slipped the clothes on. Thankfully he let her do it with her back to him. When she turned she saw that he too had changed in the short time, now wear a tank top and boxers.

He took her hand and guided her to the bed letting her crawl in first. Once they were both on the mattress he got the cuffs. Wordlessly she held up her arm letting him lock them together. He brushed hair out of her face and pressed his wax lips to her cheek.

“Vincent?” To hell with all of her talk about waiting to ask about his face. He was holding her against her will at least he could be honest with her about something. He gave her his attention looking at her with his one blue eye. Her hand carefully touched his wax cheek. He tried to turn away from her but her voice made him freeze.

“If you want me to trust you, to listen to you, I need to know you. I don’t think its fair to not be able to fully know my husband.” Oh that word burned as it left her lips but she knew he would like it. “I understand if it takes time but I… I won’t judge you. Doubt I can be more scared of you than I already am.” The last sentence came a whisper and Vincent’s heart shattered. She shouldn’t be scared of him. He loved her. He was going to take care of her.

A million scenarios ran through his head once his heart started beating again. How could she not judge him. He was hideous. But she was right, it wasn’t fair to her when he got to see all of her. His took her hand off his cheek and slowly removed the mask from his face. His long hair feel to cover him almost like it had a mind of its own to protect him.

Katie’s hands shook as she moved his hair from his face and saw him truly for the first time. She could tell him and Bo were identical. But he only had one side of his face. The other side was completely scared over. Like someone had sliced the other side of his face off. She went to touch him but froze only continuing when he nodded. The only people to ever see his face were his family. But she was his family now he reasoned with himself. Her fingers traced lines on his face. Both the good and ugly side.

“What…? Never mind.” She whispered and continued to touch him. But he knew her question before the first word fell from her lips. He took a notepad from the bedside table, he must have them stashed everywhere around the house, and wrote.

~Bo and I were conjoined at birth. Our father was a doctor and separated us.~ He drew a quick crude sketch of them as infants. ~Mama made me mask so I could go to school~

He waited for her to say something. To call him a monster and that he was unloveable. But that never came. Instead she pressed her lips to his softly. Her hands going to his hair to pull him closer. Their joined hands crossing allowing him to hold her cheek. They kissed for what felt like ages before she broke it off for air.

“Thank you for trusting me.” She kissed him quickly one more time before laying down pulling him down with her. Like the night before she curled into his chest and let her hand fall on his heart. But this time she was awake when she did it. So it was her choice. A choice he was happy she made.

—

Bo did as promised and let her take a shower to wash her hair properly. He complained the whole time about how much time she was taking but never stopped her. Today would be a fresh start for them. Spend the whole day together just the two of them. He’d tell her about Mama and all the plans for the town. They’d cuddle on the couch and watch whatever signal the tv could pick up. He’d tell her how much he loved her and how perfect she was to him. He was still trapped in the paradise in his mind, not even hearing the hairdryer. It wasn’t until the door opened and she took his hand that he he snapped out of his daydream. Only to fall into another one seeing her all done up. Her hair was curled like he told her he liked it but the sides had been twisted back in small braids. She had on the outfit he picked for her, a yellow skirt and white top and had dolled up her face. Long eyelashes and pink shimmering lips.

“Beautiful, baby. A sight for sore eyes.” He brushed his hand down her cheek and titled her head up to kiss her.

Pulling away she laughed and wiped her thumb across his bottom lip, “Got my lip gloss on ya now.” Her fingers lingered on the corner of his mouth and she waited for his reaction. He smiled at her and softly bit her thumb in a playful way.

“Babygirl what have I told ya, your playing with fire when you do things like that.” His eyes shined with lust. “Gonna be hard to keep my hands off you today.” He put is hands on her hip and lifted her into his arms carrying her down to the kitchen.

He pulled a book down from one of the high cabinets, “Found Mama’s book. You can start practicing. Maybe can actually make the food taste good.” He handed her the book and pulled out a chair at the table. “Sit down, baby and start making a list a Les. I’ll make ya breakfast today.” He put a pen and paper next to her.

Oh, he was trying to butter her up. Play sweet today to hook her in deep. She just nodded and carefully sat down wincing at the pain. This mornings shower had been better than the night before. But she was still bruised. And now her face sported a purple mark where he had slapped her.

She flipped through the book and marked the pages she liked. Noting down what food she would need for each one. Hopefully Katie could come back soon and help her. They always did everything together.

“How often does Lester go for supplies? I don’t want to put too little and we run out of food. Or too much and it spoils.” She looked to him as he sat a plate of toast with jam and eggs next to her along with a glass of what she assumed was orange juice.

“Every two weeks or so. Maybe someday I can let you go with him.” He sat down next to her and took the cookbook from her flipping through the pages she had mark. He stopped at one and tapped the page she had marked, it was recipe for pot roast, “That’s mine and Vinny’s favorite. One of the only things that tasted really good. Mama made it for our birthday every year.”

Hearing birthday made Carolines eye light up. She and Katie loved birthdays. “When’s your birthday? So I can make it for you. Katie and I love celebrating birthdays.”

She didn’t notice his jaw clench when she said Katie’s name. “September 18th, 1970.”

“Oh that’s soon. It’s August… wait, 1970?” Caroline did the math in her head, that couldn’t be right. 1970? It was 2004 that would be make him… 33 about to be 34.

“I’ll admit I don’t know everything in the world, baby but I think I know my birthday.”

“I just wasn’t… didn’t think…” How could she word it without making him mad. She bit her lip thinking.

Bo put his hand on her thigh and pulled her chair closer, “Spit it out babygirl.”

“I just didn’t think you were that much older than me.” She looked up at him and saw his face twist in confusion and she assumed it mirrored her own look.

He shook his head, “How old are you?”

“We turned 19 in March.” A smirk grew on Bo’s face. She really was a sweet young little thing. He figured she was younger then him but he thought maybe by 7 or 8 years, not 15.

He took her face in hand and kissed her forehead, “Really are my sweet babygirl ain’t ya?” Oh course this news made him excited. Caroline just nodded and tried to smile at him, continuing to eat the food he made her. She made notes in the cookbook, including putting their birthday next to the recipe he had pointed out with the note ‘Bo and Vincent’s favorite’.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Until footsteps were heard above them, and Bo shifted. It was like watching a dog go from happy and jumping at the sight of its owner to growling and baring its teeth at the cat behind them.

He stood up and cleared the table putting the dishes in the sink. He left the recipe book and her note on the table, pulling her up into his arms. He pressed her face in his chest and whispered harshly in her ear, “You say so much as one word to her and I’ll have you over my knee. You just stand here and be quiet. Understand baby?”

She shuddered in his hold and nodded, “Yes, sir.” His hands wrapped her resting on her lower back. She moved her hands to wrap around his neck. She heard their footsteps enter the kitchen and the sound of cabinets and the fridge being opened and closed. The entire time Bo whispered sweet nothings in her ear, a blend of “good girl” “sweet baby listening so well” “proud of you”. Something about being told he was proud of her made her preen. She thrived off praise. Finally she heard a lock open followed the a door opening and closing before the locked clicked back into place. Bo finally released her and let her step back.

“Come on baby. Imma show you around the house.” He took her hand and led her around the bottom floor which didn’t have many rooms. The kitchen, living room (which was large), and the master bedroom but that door was closed. “No going into Mama and Dad’s room” he informed her. They made their way up the stairs to more doors. She knew his or well their room and the bathroom. He pointed out one of the doors as Lester’s, telling her that the next time he was home she needed to ask if he wanted his room clean.

“Does he not stay here all the time?”

Bo shook his head, “Nah, little brother likes to play independent. Has a little trailer on the edge of town. But sometimes he comes home.”

Caroline just nodded in response as Bo moved on. He pointed out Vincent’s room, she assumed it was now Katie’s room too. There was one more door at the end of the hall with a name plaque that read “Dr. Victor Sinclair.”

“I don’t care if every other room in this house if full of venomous snakes and spiders- if you open this door I will not hesitate to snap your neck.” His tone was serious and she knew better than to ask him about this room.

She just nodded and he took her back downstairs. There weren’t many pictures on the walls but the few she saw showed Vincent in a mask. Had he worn it always?

“Bo?” She asked as he sat them down on the couch after flicking the tv on and wiggling the rabbit ears until it played a station. She didn’t know what show was on because it was currently displaying a toothpaste commercial.

“Yeah baby?” He pulled her close to him and had her rest her head on his shoulder.

She swallowed hoping she wouldn’t get in trouble for the question. “Um, Vincent, has he, has he always had the mask? I just saw the pictures and he looks so young in them.”

Bo just nodded and she could tell he was chewing on his cheek like he wasn’t sure what to tell her. Should probably be honest with her, if she was to trust him.

“Stay here I’ll be right back.” He stood up and she heard him digging in a drawer in the kitchen. He returned moments later with a photo in his hand. He sat back down and turned the photo to her. It was him and Vincent as new borns. “Dad was able to separate us but Vinny was messed up. Doesn’t have the other eye all that shit. I was luckily I guess. Can’t see the scar under my hair unless it’s cut short.”

Her hand went to the back of his head without thinking and he grabbed it taking her fingers to his scar. His breathing hitched in his throat. Never had he been so honest.

“Mama made a mold of my face to make him the mask. He hated them at first but Mama made him wear them. Didn’t want the world to see his face. Use to piss me off. He’d be all upset and bed her not to put it on him but she would anyway.”

“So he can talk?”

“A little. It’s not easy. The cut runs from here to here on him.” He took his finger and traced a line done her face for forehead to chin going over a portion of her lips. “So part of his mouth scarred over. Plus with the mask on it gets muffled. It’s just easier for him to write things down or gesture.”

Caroline hummed and nodded, an idea popping in her head. “Oh I can take you some sign language now. We can start easy with the ABCs.” Bo smiled and twisted her so she straddled his lap. “Okay baby. Teach me.” He held his hands to her and she smiled at him, what seemed like a true smile. The rest of the morning was spent with her showing him the letters and moving his fingers to help him understand. She’d giggle when he messed up and she’d careful move his fingers the right way. Maybe today would be okay.

—

Katie woke up and noticed Vincent wasn’t in their room. She sat up and saw a stack of her clothes on the edge of the bed. The outfit he had chosen for her. She picked up the pile and saw it was jean shorts and a plain olive green shirt. Nothing special, she figured since he planned on showing her how to work with wax he didn’t want to dirty any of her dresses. She also noticed her hands weren’t cuffed to the bed. She got dressed and sat on the edge of the bed brushing her hair. She braided it in a simple French braid. But hers was no where near as perfect as Vincent made for her before. Once done she sat and waited for him to return. After a few minutes he returned with a tray in hand. She saw toast and eggs, a cup of coffee, and what she figured was orange juice.

He sat the tray on the small desk in the corner sat in the one of the two chairs, she wondered if one had been Bo’s chair at one point. He looked to her and motioned for her to come to him. She followed his command and sat in the chair next to him. He took a plate and the orange juice and sat them in front of her before taking a plate and the the coffee cup for himself. He took a breath and removed his mask again letting his hair fall in front of his face. She didn’t make a move to move it this time, letting him go at his own pace.

“Thank you. I wondered where you went. I was starting to miss you.” She tacked the last sentence on to hopefully keep to his good side. He looked to her and offered a half smile from the unscarred part of his face. They ate in silence and when done he stood but put his hand on her to keep her down.

“Stay.” The word came out rough as usual. She nodded and stayed still folding her hands on her lap. He put his mask back on and went back to the kitchen putting the dishes in the sink. He returned to her and was happy to see she had followed orders. She was still sitting in the chair he left her, her eyes wandering over the art on the walls.

“I like that one.” She pointed to one of the frames above the desk. It was oil pastel of pink and white water lilies. “I love floral art especially water lilies. If you can’t tell.” She ran her hand over her arm that in fact had a pink water lily on her inner arm above her wrist. “This was one of the first ones I did completely by myself when I was 17. Dad got me my first machine for my 15th birthday. Caroline got a new curling iron set. If that can tell you how different we are in some aspects. Him and his best friend were tattoo artists and they taught me on the side. Wasn’t exactly legal since I was underage but we didn’t tell anyone. And no one questioned when I turned 18 and just stated working in his shop.”

Vincent listened to her story and was reminded of him and his mother. Her teaching him how to work with wax and making his own figures. His first figure was featured in the museum. A small dog. Looking at it now he would cringe. It was really awful but 9 year old Vincent had been so proud. And Mama had been so proud she talked about it like it reviled the statue of David.

He didn’t notice Katie had started crying until he heard her sniffle. He looked at her and he saw quiet tears falling as she traced the tattoo. “Dad was so proud when I showed him this. Said it was the best he had ever seen. Fuck. Sorry, I’m crying. I just miss him. Him and Mama died a few months ago. They were on a train trip across Alaska and the train crashed. Only half the travelers were survivors.” As she told the story she cried more. She realized it was the first time she had cried over this without Caroline there with her. Her face fell to her hands as the tears turned to sobs. She kept apologizing trying to choke down the sobs but he just shushed her. He picked her up and sat down with her on the bed. He rubbed her back and took his mask off so he could kiss her hair. They stayed that way for a few minutes before her sobs died down and she was able to breath again.

“Thank you Vincent.” Her voice was a little horse from crying but he still loved the way his name left her lips. He kissed her forehead one more time and set her feet on the floor. He stood up, putting his mask back on, and took her hand. In his other hand he had a note for her. She took it in her free hand and read it.

~We have to pass Bo and Caroline to get to the studio. Do not talk to her. Don’t even look to her. Stay quiet.~

She looked up him and nodded obediently. He held her hand as they traveled down the stairs. He stopped in the kitchen and she got a quick glance of Caroline in Bo’s arms, keeping her face against him so she couldn’t see Katie. This was obviously part of their punishment. Vincent took a few things from the cabinets and fridge handing them to her, some water bottles and premade deli sandwiches.

He took her down to the studio and had her sit the food on a desk to the side. He showed her to a closet that was filled with art supplies. Pencils, paints, oils, charcoal, papers of all kinds, anything an artist could need. Once she had looked around it a bit he took her to another area where his molds for figures were held. He picked up a few looking at the bottoms. Finally he found the one he was looking for and handed it to her.

He brought her to his work bench and started the fire that would melt the wax. He showed her all the steps to prep everything and once the wax was ready he let her place her hands over as he poured it into the mold.

~Something this size will take about 5 hours to harden enough to take it out of the mold. We can draw if you would like, my angel.~

She nodded and slid off his lap allowing him to stand. She followed him back to the first closet he had showed her and let her pick what she wanted. She took one of the sketching books and pencils. He took the same and went back to the work bench.

“Can I sit on the floor? I work better on the floor. I don’t know why.” She asked not sitting down with him.

He titled his head to the side but nodded and stood again going into the closet like room with the mattress. Oh how she hoped she was never locked there again. He came back with one of the larger blankets and spread it on the floor. Katie sat down and crossed her legs after thanking him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him sit on the floor with her and she looked to him and smiled. The next 2 hours were spent in completely silence, but a comfortable silence. Occasionally she would glance up and notice him watching her. Whenever this happened blood would rush to her cheeks and she’d smile. This she could get use to doing. Having someone to do art with again was nice. Caroline tried but it wasn’t her thing. Like doing fancy hair styles wasn’t Katie’s.

Eventually they heard the door at the top of the stairs open. Vincent stood and went to the door of the studio where Bo was standing with Caroline behind him. She was able to lock eyes with her sister and tried to smile but seeing the purple on her sisters face made her stomach tighten. Caroline must be feeling the same way as her seeing Katie’s bruises. She had honestly forgotten about them until she saw Caroline.

Without a word Bo handed a book to Vincent before turning away and taking Caroline back upstairs. Vincent returned to her and gave her the book. There was a note from Caroline on it.

-This is their Mama’s cookbook. I marked the pages I liked and wrote down what food we need for it. I made notes in the book too. I love you twin.-

Katie put her sketch pad to the side. Her hand was started to cramp from the holding the pencils anyway. She flipped through the book. Everything Caroline had marked would be what she would like too. Food was a common love of theirs. She got to a recipe for pot roast and noticed a note -Bo and Vincent’s Favorite. Make it on their birthday, 9/18/70- was written in Caroline’s curly handwriting. 1970? No she must have written it down wrong, it should probably be 1980.

“Vincent?” She asks softly moving closer to him with the book in her hands. He out his sketch book face down and looked to her. “Is this right? Is that really your birthday?” She pointed to the note Caroline had left. He looked at it and nodded. “Even the year?” She asks starting to mentally do the math. Again he nodded. So if she born in 1985 and he was born in 1970, that would make him 15 years older than her. He would be turning 34 soon and she was 19. “Oh, okay.” She said softly before going back to flipping pages.

While she was reading he slid one of his notes to her.

~When is your birthday?~

“It’s already passed. March 5, 1985. We turned 19 this year. But September is our half birthday, six months after our birthday. Mama and Daddy always thought was fun to celebrate that too. Since there’s two of us we got two celebrations to make sure we felt all the love. We’d even get half a cake. That’s on September 5. Oh yours and Bo’s is March 18! We have opposite birthday months thats fun. Caroline and I love birthdays. We like say they are our second favorite holiday after Halloween.”

Watching her eyes light up made Vincent’s heart beat faster. His sweet angel, excited to celebrate him. But she was so young. If he had realized how young she was he may not have gone along with Bo’s plans. Maybe even would have let the girls leave town unharmed. He knew what it was like to be stuck in this town forever. Catherine had never even truly experienced the world and he had damned her to his hell. He clipped his angel’s wings. But they were in too deep now. He cared too much or her to let her leave him now. And he liked to think she was coming around to caring for him too.

He watched her go back to reading through the cookbook making notes and writing down what she wanted. She would look up at him at times and smile at him. After letting his mind wander and his eyes linger on her he went back to his sketch.

When she was done with the cookbook she sat it aside and returned to her own sketch. She didn’t know how many hours had gone by but she was able to finish her piece. She signed the bottom and smiled. She looked up and caught Vincent staring at her again.

“I finished mine.” She told him turning the book to him showing him her art. He took it from her and examined it closely. It was a landscape of Ambrose she had done from memory, each of the brothers were featured some where. She had Bo at his shop working on his truck, Lester leaning against his truck with a cigarette, and himself in front of the museum. She even had Jonesy sitting in front of the pet shop. He took his notepad and quickly wrote

~You did this from memory? You only saw the town f or a few hours.~

She made his favorite sound in the world, she laughed. “I have a good memory and the town isn't that big. Could maybe soon, you show me it again? It’d be nice to be outside again.” Her voice trailed off wishfully.

He had been keeping her inside too much. An angel like her needs to be outside in the fresh air. He looked to her and nodded. He’d have work with Bo to find time to do that.

She smiled again and looked down to try and get a peak at his art. Out of instinct he pulled it close to chest but when she leaned away from with a slight frown he turned it to her. She looked it over and gasps. He had drawn her in an angelic light. She had never seen herself look so beautiful. He let her take the drawing from him and she traced the lines gently. Tears started to form in her eyes.

“This is beautiful. Is… is this really how you see me? I’m not this pretty.” She shook her head and handed the art back to him. He sat it down and took his note pad and wrote for what felt like forever. Once finished he gave it to her.

~My Catherine, my angel, you are the most beautiful being in all of the earths creation. No one could hold a light to your beauty. Not only do you have outer beauty but your soul itself is a work of art. You are so kind and loving. So pure. I am grateful to be able to call you mine. My sweet beautiful angel.~

For a brief second Katie forgot their past and how they got here. She forgot how he had taken her and was holding her against her will. She forgot how his brother was doing the same to her twin. For a moment it was like she and Vincent were a normal couple who drew for each other and wrote love letters. Never had anyone, not even her sister, said anything like this about her. The way he described her was like she was an angel. For a second she was able to see a future with him but then it all came flooding back. Everything that happened. But how could someone who could say the perfect things really be so bad? Maybe she did need to start listening to him.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher fanfic #slasher fic #slashers #bo sinclair #brian van holt #house of wax fic #vincent sinclair

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ateezinmymind · 4 years ago

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Rocker! Hongjoong x reader

angst, fluff ending

tw: smoking, drugs, alcohol, foul language, vomit, depressive symptoms, sexual harassment and toxic behavior—please don’t read if sensitive!! I don’t condone these acts <3

~you wanted to be more like him and less like you

~“fuck off! I don’t want to see that shit-face of yours again!!” ~

Tears streaming down your face, staining the flesh with a trail of black from your running eyeliner. You can’t get those last words out of your head, taking in a breath of smoke, and exhaling through your nose. Trying to ease the pain of abandonment—you contemplate what you’re going to do now.

Standing up from the concrete staircase you’ve been sulking on for the past 15 minutes,, burning out your cigarette—you make your way down to the only place you can think of..

The blaring sounds of screams and cries piercing your ears—the smell of alcohol and smoke,, bodies together,, this...this was it. This was where you could let go...let loose..and live.

“I am a cancer. I am a creep. I am the black sheep”

Hearing those booming lyrics-you look up to the stage. Finding the lead singer screaming into the mic—and bouncing with his guitar. From the eyeliner to his ripped-chained pants..you were sucked into a void. Eyes burning from the atmosphere,, head pounding—now heart aching. You couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Hey baby..can I get you something?” —snapping out of your self destructing trance, you look up to the raspy voice speaking to you.

~“Let me buy you a drink...you here alone?” ~

The buzzing effect in your body-taking you away..you felt numb. You didn’t feel right,, blurred vision, limp body—you were useless. Feeling your head being shook and lightly slapped, trying to blink your way to clear sight—you started to fade..

hearing the lone sounds of laughter and booms—everything felt underwater. You couldn’t quite see, hear or breathe. Maybe this was what you needed..no one loved you anyway. For fucks sake-you got kicked to the curb tonight—by your shitty once called boyfriend. Who which you caught cheating—and to which led to you being pushed out the door-with nothing but a pack of cigarettes and a twenty dollar bill.

You were drowning,, choking, needing air. Desperate..everything turning black,, it was what you deserved... until—

“Hey bitch!!”

jerking conscious from the ice water—wet, cold and vulnerable..you’re surrounded by big figures. Your body finally awake, the smell of the place hits you like a truck. Only causing your body to respond naturally—meaning dry heaving. Choking—you weakly stand up to be towered by the looming men. Clutching your stomach—you needed the bathroom, slapping your hand over your mouth to control the potential mess. You wobble forward..clearing a path to your destination— All while the lead singer watches you from afar....

Barging into the bathroom you’re met with a couple making out by the sinks, and the stench of regurgitated essence. Only causing the feeling in your stomach and throat to worsen..abdomen convulsing you knock through the stall—and spill your guts. Face flushing from the lack of air—your nose and throat burn, and your stomach churns with sickness. Flushing your vomit down the toilet—your mind hazes once again...and soon enough you black out against the stall wall—helpless.

———

Hongjoong hasn’t seen you come out of the bathroom for the past 20 minutes..he was starting to get anxious himself. But he still had to finish his last song before ending tonight’s show-

“You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick”

The bright lights—beaming all different tones of red and blue. He lived for the stage, the rush of adrenaline when the whistles and screams came. Hongjoong was meant for the spotlight—his soul voice, talent for the guitar-and his aura in all. He was a performer,, meant to please his audience—and when he saw you come in tonight, all ragged, sad and helpless. He couldn’t stop watching you, you were everything he wasn’t. And when those men spiked your drink—he wanted to kill them so badly, but he didn’t want to risk his place.

Sweat pooling down his face, hongjoong finishes the last song—

“Everyone wants a ride. pulls away, ooh—from you”

The screams from people lungs, the jumping of bodies close together, and the sweet sweet feeling of glory—all lasts for a second....

Jogging down the hall towards the women’s bathroom, Hongjoong gets stopped in his tracks. A girl extremely tipsy, reeking of alcohol puts her hand on his chest. “Heyyy..youurrr, yyou’re that s..singer guy...” trying to push her away—she only falls to her knees. “Excuse me—move” not understanding his words she squeezes hongjoongs thighs, then wraps her dirty fingers around his pants chain and pulls him forward. “S..Stop being sooO difficult..lemmeee make youu feel g..GOood” rubbing him she fiddles with his zipper

“What the fuck! Get off me bitch!” Pushing her head back she lands on her ass, and hongjoong steps over her with disgust. “Go give some other fucker a blow” taking a deep breath, he tries calming his raging thoughts of the drunk woman. Speed walking to the bathroom, barging through the door he screams at the couple grinding on each other “GET THE FUCK OUT!!-“

sending them running away, he sees your bare legs from under the stall. Pushing it open-he wants to hurl, but seeing you unconscious he swallows the urge down. “Hey-babe?” Shaking your limp body, causing your head to slide off the wall and hang down. Quickly hongjoong holds your neck in place and examines your face and body.

Your damp hair and top-makes him curse under his breath...how dare someone put something so fragile through hell? Why did he feel the need to help you so bad? Was it because of your differences...that he felt the need to protect you. And harm all the people who decided to put you down, and treat you like shit..

Trailing his eyes down, hongjoong sees your legs-scraped, cut and bruised, then he can’t help but notice your attire. The big T-shirt dress wasn’t doing its job in covering your lower half well, when sprawled on the bathroom floor, so he decided to help,,picking you up and taking you to somewhere safe...

———

The shooting feeling of your head pulsing caused you to wake finally conscious.. not knowing where the hell you were. Under the sheets of an unknown bed, surrounded by band equipment-you started to panic. Breath staggering-heart racing, eyes tearing up you quietly sobbed.

What did you do?? You’re in a strangers bed, and who knows what they did to you. Wiping your eyes you look down—dressed in a loose navy shirt, and boxer shorts...definitely not what you wore yesterday. Sniffles fill the empty room, and the smell of your hair comes to realization. Shit..someone really cleaned you up..

Heaving in a sharp breath—you feel your heart speed up..shit~not now..you can’t lose your mind right now. Someone can come get you-and you’ll be defenseless and weak against them. Ripping at your legs—trying to feel your way back to yourself through pain..you just whimper. Taking your head between your hands, hanging low—tears fall on the bed covers. The sounds of your sniffling cancel out the foot steps advancing your way through the hall-

“Hey~you’re awake”—jerking your head up to the mans voice..you immediately regret it, because your skull jolts in a jabbing pain. Making you cry out and curl in a ball, holding your head. “Wo..woah,, you okay babe?!” Hongjoong speeds to your suffering self. He didn’t know what to do..looking at the sheets and seeing your tear droplets..he can’t help but scoff. You have problems, it’s unreal...how can someone be so destroyed—physically and mentally??

Unscrewing the lid to the cool water bottle he brought in, he sits himself next to your hunched self. Placing his hand on your soft hair, he gently brushes strands out of the way..so he can see your face. “I know you probably have a million things on your mind right now..but I need you to drink some water-please” the mans voice somehow soothing the tightness in your chest, you open your eyes

His damp hair covering his eyes, his gentle hands gripping the water—you weakly slowly started to make your body lift.. eyes continuously leaking tears, you gently reach for the bottle. Slightly grazing his hand, you quickly look into his brown orbs in apology. “Sorry—” Just from talking to him out loud you feel pressure coming up again. Heaving in a deep breath-trying not to crumble again already just in the span of minutes, “what am I doing here?”

As Hongjoong watched you take a swig of water he softly reached his hand with nails painted black to wipe your cheek of tears. “Well...you were unconscious—so I wasn’t just going to leave you there like a shithead..” gulping, and putting the cap back on the empty bottle you take in his words. Your body being overwhelmed with awkwardness, you cover your face and whine. “You b-bathed me..and put me into n-new clothes..”

hearing Hongjoong chuckle out, you quickly uncover your face with shock. Why was he laughing at you?!! What did he do?? “Don’t worry~ I didn’t do anything to you,, just cleaned you up...I wouldn’t make moves on a someone not aware of their own decisions..” looking back down to your legs your mind begins to turn against you once again...

~Of course he wouldn’t do anything to you..no one would want to anyways. You don’t deserve anything, because you’re no good for anything.~

“Are you okay??” Cupping your head, you slowly give him a nod..eyes pooling with warm fresh tears. You blink away the blurriness, trying to calm down and speak again. But all you do is choke out a broken cry, “I s-shouldn’t be here...I don’t even know you, I don’t know where I am...and I-“ looking away from him, staring at your bandaged legs. Droplets falling onto your skin, you sniffle and realize your once broken skin that was decorated with cuts and bruises were now covered and protected.

“I understand..please forgive me, I’m hongjoong..I’m the lead singer and guitarist from the band you heard playing last night-“ lifting your head by your chin, he gives you the softest look. “y-yes I recognize you..I’m y-y/n-“ finally giving you a bright smile, and taking the bottle from your grip Hongjoong slides off the bed. “So what’s your story?-“

———

Walls broken down—exposed to the male you only just met a week ago...you’re starting to feel not so drifted from the world. Slowly regaining and healing...all thanks to him, all thanks to the person who is the complete opposite of you. He’s given so much to your little self, and you took the time, to breathe....take in the good and actually find meaning to live. Overcoming cruelty that fed the blazing fire which spiraled your self valuing into the pits of hell..

he saw you when you were drowning, in need of help.. and made you feel worth living for. With Hongjoong, there would be no more doubt, he..the man in the spotlight, chose you....

Who would’ve thought you’d turn up here.

Where this new beginning started....

But only this time, you weren’t in it alone....

“Before we start up tonight, I want to introduce an important person.” adrenaline coursing, blinding lights, aggressive shouting and screaming filled the hall... “Everyone, this is Y/n...”

————————————————————————

tagging my wife @hongjoong-a-holic 🥺

~this is kinda a mess...don’t really know what I was doing....I’m sorry

lyrics from: black sheep by palaye royale + black sheep by kailee morgue!!⭐️

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silvercrystalwhump · 3 years ago

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Little thing based on an idea for Ash

@ashintheairlikesnow owns all of these characters I just an idea one day and decided- Hey I'ma write this. Enjoy

TW: implied noncon, noncon photo taking, general bbu warning, Owen Grant exists

Vincent drums his fingers across the wood with nails bitten to near bleeding. A hard drive sits on the table in front of him, almost eating at his eyes by simply existing. It’s red, and the word Memories is written on the side. His eyes bore into the table, wanting the hard drive to combust and leave his life.

“You know I could always see what's on there?”

James, the only person other than his therapist to know about Owen, leans by an open window. The sound of Blue Jays singing outside dances through his words like background music on set. The only reason he had the displeasure of knowing about that migraine-inducing part of his life was that Vincent forgot to watch his liquor intake at an event and vomited out his entire life story to James in one night. Needless to say, he woke up the next morning with a hangover that could kill god and a very concerned James who knew too much.

Vincent shakes his head, “I am fairly certain I know what's on this, I don’t want you seeing that.”

James doesn’t respond, “I have an incinerator at home. You can just get rid of it there.”

“If it’s not I’ll be destroying something I actually like.”

Vincent did not even know why he had him come over. After he saw the handwriting he just went on autopilot. “Could you drive down about five minutes down, there’s this small coffee place that makes pecan pie flavored coffee, can you go get me some?”

“Sure,” James says, “Do you want me to go so you can do this alone and I can come back later or?”

“No, I just need you out of the house for maybe 15 minutes, it’s not like you probably have already figured out what I think is on this hard drive.”

James shrugs, “You want something to eat too?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Vincent hears James’ keys jungle quietly and the door opens. He can hear his footsteps walk down his porch. As he listens to James’ car start, Vincent puts his head in his hands. His finger knit into his hair and closes, threatening to rip the follicles right from his skull. I really don’t want to see this. He exhales as he hears the car pull out of the driveway and his gate slide closed.

Inhale, he closes his eyes and fumbles the hard drive into the laptop. Then, exhaling, he opens his eyes.

USP Pot In-Use. Transfer 486 GB of data onto this device?

Half a terabyte of data just sitting on a hard drive. A hard drive that was in the button of one of Vincent’s bags for months. Vincent starts to chew on the inside of his cheek, hands trembling near the mouse pad.

Yes.

Not enough storage for transfer. Preview file?

Yes.

A handful of files transfer to his laptop. Some files were named with dates, some with pet names, some with actual event titles but all were photos. Vincent closes his eyes and opens one simply labeled Coffee. The actual photo itself is just him sitting in one of his old dressing rooms back when working with Owen. There is a blurry spot in the upper left-hand corner of the photo. This was definitely Owen’s phone. Owen’s phone always had a blurry spot in the upper left-hand corner no matter how much Owen wiped it off.

The photo looks like it was taken at an awkward angle. Vincent pinched the bridge of his nose and mutters, “So he stalked me long before the incident, I stopped working there months before it happened.” The other handful of photos are similar; pictures were taken without Vincent noticing, usually at work. The last one was in his own house, but it was during a party he remembered that he invited Owen to.

Then a video pops up only labeled with a date.

Vincent reaches up and mutes his computer, and slowly presses play on the video. It starts with Owen muttering something before sticking his phone up and peering through a window. The video is of Vincent sleeping, and it lasts for nearly 30 minutes before the phone is dislodged, and the video finishes.

The next set of photos and videos are dated during his time with Owen.

He gets through three before rushing to the bathroom to puke.

When James gets back, Vincent has seen enough. He was right. It was Owen’s hard drive, and somehow he got a hold of it. James hands Vincent the coffee and the bag.

“I’m not gonna lie, I kinda forgot what you said about food so I just got you a scone since I was listening to the radio talk about the new federal policy on box boys.”

Vincent took a sip of the coffee and raised an eyebrow at James, “Something changed?”

“The emancipation law, it was signed by the president a week ago and the changes went into effect today,” James says as he sips his own coffee, “If you own a box boy for over a year and they meet a handful of prerequisites you can emancipate them and give them legal citizenship.”

“I honestly thought it would get shot down.”

“Well since the senator that was so against it was voted out this election no one else has objected,” James says, and he pulls up his phone, “Well the owner has to be the one to sign them for emancipation. Senator Grant was her name wasn’t it?”

Vincent takes a bite out of the scone. He swallows both the scone and a thought.

“Does it say anything about private transfer?”

“I think you just have to have their papers. Why?”

Vincent looks down at his food, and an idea pops into his head, “What’s Senator Grant doing now since she’s not in office.”

James shrugs, “Let me see if anyone said anything?” He taps on his phone, the little buzzes echo around the room like flies to trash. James pauses, “I’m pretty sure she’s just at home preparing for the next election why?”

“I think I might need you to help me make a phone call.”

Weeks later, Vincent paces, listening to James talk on the phone in the other room. He could not physically hear Owen’s voice through the phone without falling apart.

“That’s my ear,” James says sarcastically, “Do you agree with this or not?”

Silence.

Click.

James knocks on the half-open door, “You alright Vincent?”

“Are you done?” Vincent asks, tighter than a spring.

James nods, “After the screaming he agreed, do you want me to go over with the papers so you don’t have to see them?”

“Please, I’m more than likely already going to have to be on a phone call with his Mother and that's stressful enough.”

Vincent opens the door of his study and steps out, “I need a drink.”

“It's noon Vincent.”

Vincent has one hand on the liquor cabinet and chuckles dryly, “Perfect.”

‘Vincent, no.”

Making dead eye contact with James, he pulls a bottle of sweet tea vodka out of the cabinet and pours himself a glass. James sighs and shakes his head, “I thought Dr. Brycan told you not to drink.”

“He said that I need to wait until at least noon since I used to drink from dawn until dusk unless I had work, it’s 12:01.”

“Didn't you tell me that you’re probably going to get a phone call from the ex-Senator today,” James says, stepping back, “I think you want to wait at least until then so you're sober when you two talk.”

Vincent pauses with the glass halfway to his lips. He sets it down just hard enough to hear it but not hard enough to crack the crystal. Vincent grumbles, “Fine,” and walks back for his study to wait by the phone.

“You do know this is blackmail, Vincent,” Mrs. Grant grinds through the phone, “And that is illegal.”

“So is paying off someone to hide criminal charges. He either takes the deal or I take this half terabyte hard drive filled with evidence to court and get the press involved, his decision.”

“How much do you have to pay you,” she says after a moment.”

“No amount of cash will buy me over, he either takes the deal or I contact my manager.”

Silence through the phone. Vincent’s nails dig into his jeans. The woman on the other end of the line can’t see the tears pouring down Vincent’s face. One thing acting taught him was how to keep his voice steady for clarity in a microphone. The only difference here is that the microphone is in a phone rather than on a long stick.

“We’ll think about it,” she finally says.

“You have until Sunday.”

“Fine.”

Click.

Vincent holds the phone up to his ear for a second before dropping it onto the table. His head falls into his hands, and he sobs. His mind, blank yet filed with too many feelings, recoils under its own weight. Tears that had been held back for months spill across contract papers and blot through blank ink. The ink spread like blood across bed sheets.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to knock his teeth in?” James asks as he holds the contract and transfers forms in one hand and a Sprite in the other, “Because I will and want to.”

Vincent shakes his head, fingers drumming across the velvet seats of the limousine he almost forgot he had. When did I even buy this was the first thought he had when he dug through contacts. “No, just go inside, get him to fill out the forms, and come back. Then we go home and I gorge myself on M&Ms and fudge ice cream.”

James laughs, “Room numbers on the card right?”

“Yes.”

James steps out of the car. The condominium looms over the limousine, and James bites through white-knuckled rage as he steps into the lobby.

Guess who’s standing there waiting for him, Owen Grant, and his mother. James steps up to them, “Grant, correct?”

Owen looks surprised and gives James a quick not-so-subtle scan, “Are you who Vince sent, I thought he was coming?”

“Do I really need to explain why that will never happen?”

Mrs. Grant gives James a glare to rival the sun’s wrath on gingers. The demeanor shifts almost instantly to a more business appeal, “Well allow us to get this paperwork sorted out as painlessly as possible.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

How long does it take to sign papers? James thinks as he watches Owen go through the forms. These are pre-filled out records; he just needs to sign in three spots. Pen scratches against the paper, Owen’s friendly demeanor evaporated when he reached the final form.

“Why this of all things?” he grinds out.

Neither of the two people answers him. Owen finally tosses the form and an orange file in James’ direction. “All of Kauri’s paperwork; if Vince needs anything else, he’ll have to contact WRU directly.”

James scoops the papers off the table, flipping through them; he looks to make sure Owen didn’t deliberately miss any signatures. An extra envelope sits in the orange file. James pulls it free and waves it in Owen’s face.

“What’s this?”

Owen, stupidly, answers, “A goodbye letter since I just filled out a no contact agreement, I want to give my final goodbyes if you will.”

James rips open the envelope and takes out the letter but keeps in anything that may be important.

“That’s for Vincent’s eyes only!” Owen snaps.

“And that hard drive was for your eyes only wasn’t it? I got Vincent’s consent to look through these forms.”

Owen and his mother glare daggers at James as he tosses the letter back onto the table, “Goodbye.”

James can still feel Owen’s teeth grinding gaze on his back as the door closes behind him.

Jake answers the door, “Hello Vincent.”

“Is Kauri here?” Vincent asks as his fingers shift around the orange folder.

“Depends,” Jake says, leaning against the door frame, “What do you want?”

Vincent sighs, “I called Natalie yesterday and---”

“Just let him in,” Kauri’s voice echoes from inside the safe house, “Let’s just get this over with.”

Jake pierces his lips and steps out of the way. Vincent steps past him and enters the safe house. Natalie had told him to make things as quick as possible, and if Kauri told him to leave, he would. Vincent agreed. Now he simply hoped that he would be able to get this across without being told to leave.

Kauri steps around the corner, a look of tired anger sits behind his eyes.

“Kauri I’m so---”

“Skip the bullshit, Nat said this would be quick.”

Vincent nods and forces the new wave of guilt back into his stomach, “A few days ago, I was able to… convince Owen to transfer ownership of you to me. I want to ask if I can transfer you to anyone else for your own security, so you are entirely out of Owen’s grabbing range.

Kauri stands there with an expression of absolute disbelief. Then, finally, he opens his mouth to speak before stammering, “I said quick but not one sentence, elaborate.”

“Well, to put it in simply I was going through some of my old stuff from during the incident. I found a hard drive with nearly half a terabyte of… evidence that could be used against Owen,” Vincent says as his shoulder tense at memories he wishes to be buried. “A friend of mine brought up the new box boy emancipation law and after that I got an idea. This friend, who I vomited out my entire life story to black out drunk, was willing to help be the liaison between Owen and me. After a telephone call between Mrs. Grant and I, we got the papers signed and so now I have all of your paperwork under my name.”

“Okay?” Kauri says with disbelief still in his tone in tiny blips, “Then why are you talking to me, just leave me alone and I won’t have to worry about Owen.”

Vincent chews at the inside of his cheek, “Here’s the thing, what I did is, in the eyes of the law, black mail. While he could be charged with the same thing, if he took me to court one of the first assets taken for compensation are box boys. So, you could stay under my name but I don’t trust that he won’t try to get you back by either suing or doing something. My question now is, is there someone who you trust enough for me to transfer your ownership form to.”

Kauri pauses. The gears shift in his head for a moment before he looks past Vincent and back at Jake. The widest shit-eating grin nearly splits Kauri’s face in half. He looks over Vincent’s shoulder and laughs, “Hey Jake, want your own Romantic?”

Vincent looks over his shoulder and sees a very exasperated, tired, and just downright flustered Jake.

“I- um- Kauri- I- please don’t wrd it like that, that makes me sound terrible.”

“And.”

“I- mean in order to keep Owen away from you then yes I will but please don’t,” Jake stampers, “I don’t and won’t own you.”

Kauri pushes past Vincent and boops Jake on the nose, “Congrats you get your own boxie.”

“Kauri, please.”

Vincent clears his throat and interrupts, “While I am used to being third wheel um I know you all want me out of your hair so I have the forms with me and after they are signed I will do the heavy lifting with WRU.”

After a second, Kauri chuckles before walking away. Jake just watches as he leaves, a sigh escaping his lips, “He is never going to let me live that down.”

“If you don’t want to-”

“No no,” Jake says, “I will, he's just teasing. What do I have to sign?”

#owen grant should be castrated #bbu #ash is cruel to the boys #kauri #jake #vincent shield #blackmail #tw: implied noncon #tw: noncon phototaking #whump #box boy #box boy universe

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youresog0lden · 4 years ago

Text

15 II Spencer Reid

Summary: It’s been 15 years since the murder of your mother so you take the day off, while back home your best friend is trying to find out what happened with the case completely forgetting that every day for the past 6 years he would come over and stay with you.

WC: 3.2k

Warnings: Angst, the mentions of death, panic attacks, the mentions of depression, ED (kinda), Murder, Stabbing, Violence, Crying, Vomit, The mentions of Heaven I think I could be wrong I might have said above. -But just in case- I used y/n but used a last name so I could make the story easier just replace it.

A/N: I definitely cried while writing this one. Please let me know what you think ! This is one of my favorites ! THIS IS NOT MY GIF

masterlist

Notes: Y/n/n = your nickname y/n = your name

Relationship: Spencer x Fem Reader (kinda)

"The song is ended, but the melody lingers on." ~ Irving Berlin

15 years ago. fif-teen. Today was the big day. I was 15 years ago. Since my mom was brutally murdered. They told us they never found the murderer. That they tried to find every piece of evidence that they could but, this person is a pro. Every year I take the night to try and help solve the case but nothing has come out of it.

"Hey Garcia." I chirped picking up the phone.

"Hey beautiful. I know it's your day off but we really need you on this case." she pleaded.

"I can't. I have to go." I say softly hanging up the phone. Every year on her death date I go to her grave to talk to her let her know that she's not alone. I tell her about everyone and everything. I tell her about Spencer. Even though if she was here now she would tell me to stop thinking about boys and that there a waster of time. I bring her her favorite flowers even though they take a week to get to me because there rainbow roses. Her favorite. She says there way to colorful reminding her of everyone of her kids, never a dull moment. So I take the day to thank her for having me for bringing me into this world. I made sure her grave was put in the Jane graveyard. I wanted her to feel at home with her mom and dad. I always leave crying but, knowing she's watching from above only makes me have hope that I will see her again. Right at the time I get up to get ready I get a call from a certain Doctor.

"Hello Dr. Reid." I joked.

"Hello Agent Jane." we laughed at the joke both of us made

"I'm waiting for you." at this point I almost immediately stopped laughing.

"Do you not know what today is?" I asked quietly.

"No. Am I supposed to?" he asked. Yes because I told you. I told you what happened. I told you the date. I told you how she was murdered but I guess you forgot.

"No never mind. Look Spencer I have to go." before he can say anything I hang up. I sit there looking at myself. Black jeans, boots, and a hoodie. I nod before grabbing my bag and the flowers leaving and a bag I packed since I was going home. I set my things down and make sure the flowers are secured. I back out of my parking lot and drive towards the highway. Hey sweetie I just wanted to let you know I love you. Please be careful tonight I love you more than anything. Her voice rang in my head like it did every year on her date. I remember getting the call in the morning after seeing it on the news. I took me months to finally get up and move around and it took me two years to finally go and see her. I was 18 when it happened. My brother was the only one home at the time.

He told me he came home from the football game to see her blood all over the house. Justin wasn't home at the time. Justin being my step-dad. He told me that she asked him to go get roses for there anniversary coming up so he did. I cried for weeks on end. I ended up being taken to the hospital because I stopped eating. I stopped taking care of myself. I couldn't physically do it anymore. I couldn't sit there in the house anymore. I ended up moving out and starting college like my mom would've wanted she was the whole reason I became a profiler I needed to find out what happened. I needed to catch this guy but, it was like he feel off the face of the earth. The case went cold and eventually everyone moved on. Even I did I was finally happy. I made family at work. Nothing could ever replace my original family but they were a close second. I made a best friend. Spencer Reid. Even though he didn't remember today I didn't blame him for it. He may have an eidetic memory but, work was one of the many things that flooded that pretty brain of his.

Eventually after being friends with him it's almost natural to develop a crush -if you will- on him. Almost like a wildfire I did. I couldn't help but love him and all of his quirks. He could make the moon smile if he tried. Hell even if he didn't try but when he did and he let out a laugh it was contagious. Everyone would laugh. He was the heart and soul of the team. His magic tricks, his lectures about why the girl and I can't have more than five shoots and three drinks when we go out. - I really think it's the dominance coming out in him - but he says he just cares about us and doesn't want us to complain to him about our raging headaches in the morning at work. Almost every year Reid would come over and help me through it. I would never actually take him to my moms grave he just stayed the night before and made sure I was okay every morning for almost six years. I hurt that he forgot but once again work probably effected that.

After what seemed to be about a three hour drive and two bathroom stops I pull into the graveyard surrounded by the Jane family church our great, great, great, great, great grandparents founded in. This is where our family was berried time after time. Taking a big breath I see the street lights surrounding the graveyard making it not look as deep and depressing. I grab the flowers and a water bottle moving out the car and into the graveyard. I take a deep breath walking and sitting down by my mom.

"Hey momma." I say softly looking down at her headstone. Cheryl Jane. Loving mother, Wife, and daughter. June 8th 1970- August 25th 2005. It's okay rest easy momma-bear you've done your work. Just at the read of that my eyes start watering. "It's been a year. A lot has happened this year. Emily has been working our asses off. It seems like cereal killers never take the time off. I miss you more than ever. I know Brantly does to. He talks about you the most. It's really hard for me to. Even though you know that. Anyway I'm sure you want to know the constant loop of my life. Well here it goes. Mom I'm in love with my best friend and he's in love with his and I know that sounds confusing but here let me explain in. He may be mine but JJ is his. I can tell by the way his eyes get big when he hears her talk or how his smile is or how he blushes as she talks but I get why shes beautiful. He's so in love with her mom and, it hurt's so bad but sometimes you have to get through the pain. Derek left. He has a kid so he went to be daddy Derek with Savannah. We have a new team member. Luke Alvez he's cool. Emily is the new unit chief. Hotch had to leave for a while. Recently it's been hard mom. I've barley been wanting to go to work in the morning knowing he isn't mine. Mom, I know that if you were here right now you'd tell me." I take a deep breath tears running down my cheeks.

"Don't worry about boys Y/N. Life is way to short. Go out start loving yourself, not guys. Because if one thing is promised in life it's you'll always have yourself. That and, that no one ever makes it out of here alive. So stop wasting time on him and, trust me I'm trying. I really am. I just need you to be here to hold me while I cry in your arms. Mom I'm 33 and I still need to cry into your arms. Mom I thought I would have you until I'm old. I didn't picture you not being here to see me graduate college. I thought you would be here to see me have the kids you always wanted to see me have. You always talked about being a grandma. I thought you could walk me down the isle as I'm getting married in your dress with our family ring seeing your smile on your face. God I miss that smile so much and what I wouldn't do to see it again. Pictures aren't enough. I don't know how long it's been since Jasmine came out here to talk to you but she's married now. To this guy his names James. I really like him. I can tell he makes her happy. There expecting. I'm going to be a godmother and a aunt. I never thought I would be this achieved in my life. The only thing is-" I couldn't stop crying. It kept coming down in waves of sadness tears escaping like no other.

"Well there's quite a few only things but the first thing is I just expected you to be here when I tell everyone the news. I used to remember running into the living room telling you how much I wanted to move to London and meet a cute English boy and have a perfect life. Well the whole boy thing isn't working. -obviously- but I got offered a job for a secret agent task force that goes undercover all around the world and helps solves cold cases from all around. I have to let them know by next week all I could think about was my family, and how if I left how hurt they would feel we've already lost so many team members but at the same time this may be exactly what I need. I would still come and visit you every year. I promise. Pinky. But I don't know I have a lot to think about on my way home. I could sleep in a hotel tonight but I just don't think I want to do that. But anyways I love you lots momma-bear more than anything. See you next year." and with that I placed the roses on her headstone standing up noticing it was starting to get dark I quickly go to my car unlocking it and placing the keys into the ignition and looking at my phone seeing as I shut it off to be more with my mom today.

4 missed call for Spence

3 missed calls from Garica

2 text from Spence. Click to open it.

So that's exactly what I did I look at the texts.

"Y/N please answer me. I know what today is I'm so so sorry I forgot."

"I'm on my way. Please just tell me your safe." I text back with a quick "It's fine. I'm already on my way home. Just leave me alone for the night please." I turn off my phone once again before heading on my way home. Leaving the busy road to much calmer ones.

"Mommy." I called out walking around the house. There I stood in a blue Cinderella dress and her clear heals with this sassy attitude.

"Yes sweetie." she laughs looking at me taking out her clunky camera and snapping a picture of me.

"Mommy can you pwease help me talk this off." my four year old eyes flashed on her. She laughs nodding her head. She helps me take off the dress leaving me in my hello kitty underwear and heals. She pulls out one of my pj sets and looks at me.

"Let's get you ready for bed. Yeah?" she says. I nod sticking my arms up. She picks me up taking me into the bathroom.

"Can we pwease use the hello kitty bubbles." I ask with puppy eyes.

"Of course my sweets." she kissed my forehead. She lets the bath fill up before putting me in there and bathing me. Kissing me on the head, the shoulder, the top of my back, the side of my head then, my nose. Every time a little laugh left my lips.

"Stop mommy it tickles." I laugh splashing the water. She gasps

"Mommy." I say sternly. She gives me a look before continuing

"Yes baby."

"I love you more than ice cream."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Then I love you more than the sun and moon combined."

As the flashbacks come back so do the tears. I pull over to the side of the road before feeling my heart crack.

"Then I love you more than the sun and moon combined."

"Fuck." I yell sitting in my car all alone. My breathing increasing in seconds my hands shaking. I can feel the urge to get out of my car and puke. But I sit there trying to call myself. It wouldn't stop her voice, the memories. I grab my phone knowing only one person could even remotely help this but deciding against it I put the phone down. I bust my car door open before falling to my knees and puking whatever I ate this morning out. I didn't stop tho I couldn't but once, I finally do I stand up and go to my car looking for a bottle of water. Finding one a few seconds later I grab my to-go bag washing my mouth and and brushing my teeth with the water I had. I get back in my car which now my hands weren't shaking as much so I was good on driving. At a red light I turn my phone on waiting for it to start back up again. When it finally does I connect it to my speaker I quickly call Spencer. The phone rings for a second before hearing the uttermost thing.

"Hello." his voice sounded shakily.

"Spence." my voice broke. Fuck really.

"Y/n/n." he sighs realizing you.

"Spence I'm almost home do you think you could spend the night tonight I don't want to be alone." I whimpered out tears sliding down my face.

"I'll be there in ten with food ready for you." he almost said instantly. I nod knowing he can't see me before hanging up and making my way down the exit.

"Mom. Get out." I complained. I was 15 and I just wanted privacy.

"Come on sweetie talk to me." she sighs.

"No. Just leave me alone." I yell.

"Don't you dare yell at me I am your mother." she was now raising her voice. I stopped dead in my tracks.

"I wish you were never my mother. "

After saying those few words to her, I could see the heartbreak in her eyes. She did everything for me even when we didn't have money and it was just the two of us. Then at the time it was my mom, my sister, I and her husband Justin and his kid. I didn't mean to say it I was just mad and I always apologized for it still feeling bad for even saying it.

"I wish you were never my mother." The words were like ice. She stopped dead in her tracks. It still heart my heart when thinking about it. It still made me cry thinking about it. Which I already was but still it only increased it. I grab my bag walking into the apartment complex seeing Reid's car parked a few down from mine I knew he used the key I gave him to get into my apartment. God how much more obvious could I be. I walk to the elevator pressing the fourth floor taking my time up there. I open the door hearing his footsteps bring him into direct eye-contact. I drop my bad right by the door closing it as he held his arms open for me to walk into, so I did exactly that. I walk right into his arms. My arms latching around his neck his wrapping around my waist. I bring my head into his neck crying harder with each second the hug lasted. He doesn't say anything he just sways us back and forth letting us take in the moments. Enjoying having someones arms to cry in after a long day of crying by yourself. It felt nice knowing he was there if you needed him.

"Do you want to eat?" he asked. I nodded my head before sitting at my island. He hands me my bowl of Chinese food and takes his own setting it down on the side of me. I lay my head on his shoulder messing with my food with my fork. He notices it but doesn't say anything he just takes my hand way and holds it with his laying his head on top of mine. He took his head off mine and unlaced his hands before taking a deep breath.

"You need to go lay down you look exhausted." he says in a hushed tone.

"Can you come lay down with me." I say just as quietly.

"If you go get ready I'll clean up the kitchen then I'll come lay down with you." he says. I nod before walking a few steps forward before quickly turning around and turn into his embrace hugging him once again. I mumble a quick 'thank you.' Into his stomach.

"I love you." I say once I finally let go.

"I love you pretty girl." he says softly using my nickname he gave me a while ago when I started using the nickname pretty boy because of Morgan. I walk into my room changing into a pair of shorts and his over sized Cal-tech t-shit. I brush me teeth once again and go into my room where he has changed from his normal dress pants into his flannel pants with a hoodie on. I smile at him smally but I could tell he noticed because once I did he flashed me an award winning smile holding up his tooth brush. I laugh lightly and walk to the bed letting him get in the bathroom. He walks out and get's on his side of the bed laying into it with me.

"Y/n?" he questioned.

"Yes love."

"I heard that they think the found the killer." he says. I sit up straight.

"What-" I questioned softly

"Emily said they found a note and a dead body confessing into killing your mom." he says just as softly.

"How do we know it's him?"

"He explained in the letter details only the person who did it would know his prints were found on a weapon that looks exactly like the weapon your mom was killed with and the blade matched and everything. Then we found a recording of him and your mom talking."

"When did you find this?"

"Today." I nod.

"So it's really him?"

"Yeah. It's really him." he says. I smile softly, our eyes finally meet. He grabs me pulling me closer to him. I take this as a sign and plant my lips on his. He doesn't kiss back so I pull away just as quickly.

"I'm-I-I'm so sor-" I was cut off by his lips on my once again finally feeling at peace.

"Our Life is made by the death of others."~ Leonardo da Vinci

#spence #spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid smut #mgg #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg fic #mgg smut #derek morgan #jenifer jareau #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds #emily prentiss #luke alvez #tara lewis

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chayacat · 4 years ago

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (15)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

There is nothing better to keep the most precious memories and beauties of life than photos. All those moments that we want to keep forever other than in our memories, no one wants to forget them. Holidays, meetings, the first kiss, marriage, birth... Birthdays. In your family, every little moment of happiness has been photographed. And by the way most of the photos concern you. From your birth... to your degree.

Melina, at your request, had brought you your photo album, which your father had created the day he knew your mother. And it must be said that it was... unusual. And I'm not talking about the outfits of the time.

“Wow. I'm glad I didn't live at that time... A little too eccentric for me.” she said with a laugh.

“Me too... My father and mother said it was the best years of their lives. When they could do what they wanted without worrying about anything. But their clothing taste was horrible. My father kept this shirt for years, until my mother forced him to throw it away because it was too small for him.” You answer with a smile.

“in the meantime, you were a beautiful baby, a little plump but adorable.”

“I'd love to see you in a picture when you were a baby. I'm sure you weren't any better.” You replied with a laugh, Melina turning her head slightly embarrassed.

“I admit my defeat. Oh, did you get that stuffed animal for your first birthday, too? My mother had gone all the shops in the city to find her. And this plastic duck for the bath... a classic.”

You both continue to flip through the photo album while laughing at the various pictures of your father being a fool. In fact, out of 3/4 of the photos, your father is a fool. It was in his temperament, so was your mother. They had found themselves there, two people with the same joy of living. then you end up falling on a photo... very familiar. You and your parents, under the snow, posing next to the snowman and the snow castle you had made. It was a few days before Christmas. The best Christmas you've ever had.

You breathe deeply and you turn the page, spending your high school years quickly, most of your "friends" were true traitors who appreciated you just because you were the best student in the school. Then came your college years that allowed you to meet your real friends. Student nights were always in order and until proven otherwise, you never missed a single one. Even though you're not very friendly with alcohol, it was fun to see others drunk to vomit. Melina and you exchanged on your college years and if yours was pretty cool, for Melina it was hell. Essentially because she was often seduced by the worst bastards on campus. But after a few well-placed kicks, the problems were usually resolved. few came back after a blow to the crotch.

“Well, you were really popular.” you said looking at her.

“Too popular. you understand, a Mexican in my university, for guys it was the Holy Grail. Oh, she's such a beautiful picture. She's new, isn't she?” she said pointing at the last photo of the album.

This photo... your parents' wedding anniversary. You paid them the restaurant and you had the best night of your life... The last one. Tears flowed down your face one after the other, falling on the album. Melina handed you a handkerchief.

“What's happening to you? You don't feel good you want me to go and get a doctor?” She asks worried.

“No no, it’s fine. I just...i just miss them. I miss them very much, and let's say that... where they are it's hard to call them... it's a remote village.” you respond, wiping your tears.

“Oh...I see. Well, when you can take a vacation... go and see them. I'd love to meet them. And then who knows if you and Jed... Go out together, you can introduce them to their future son-in-law. I am sure they would get along.” She replied before receiving a message. “Speak of the devil... He's asking me to tell you that he's eating and that as soon as he's done, he's on his way to see you. you've become inseparable together.”

“Let's say... I don't know, from all the boys I've met... he's the only one I trust. With Mattew, of course!”

“I see. Ok! I gotta go. The hours of morning visits are almost over, I'm hungry and I'm working this afternoon. Rest well and... I can't wait for you to get out of here.”

You say goodbye to Melina with a wave of your hand before letting her go. You look at your parents' photo one last time before closing the album and placing it on the small bedside table. This album means a lot to you and for nothing in the world you wouldn't throw it away. All the best moments of your life are inside. You take a look at the bouquet of flowers that Jed gave you yesterday. Introducing him to your parents, seeing them get along, is something you wanted... but that will never happen.

“You’re mine”

These words resonate in your mind like cymbals. You don't know anything about him, but obviously he knows everything about you. At least about your life in Roseville. Maybe by getting to know him you’ll find something that will allow you to reveal to all his true face. It's a lead to exploit. It is said that curiosity is a defect but... Here your growing curiosity for Ghostface could bring it down once and for all.

Tell yourself you're playing chess with him. Every move you play, both of which will bring you closer to victory. But a bad move, a misstep, one small mistake and you'll lose the game. Except that in this case, it could be fatal to you, because it’s sure that if Ghostface understands what you are trying to do... He'll kill you for sure.

“I have to be careful. If I make a mistake, he'll stick his knife between my eyes. Or worse... he will go after all those I love. I have the lives of many people in my hands. I have to make sure they all stay alive, until he falls.” you whispered to yourself, before you breathe deep and lie down, taking advantage of the reason no one is there to take a nap. You need to rest, so you might as well do it while you're safe.

The fresh air from the beach makes your hair twirl while you watch off a couple with their child playing in the sand. This lovely family... It's yours. A smile appeared on your face, when the wind blew louder lifting clouds of sand. Soon you find yourself in a sandstorm, desperately looking for your parents. You shout their names desperately while putting your hand forward, your eyesight blurred by the sand. You hear them you call and then suddenly... There's nothing left. absolute silence. And a bloody smell floating in the air. a smell you'd like to forget. The storm rages and suddenly a hand grips you, his hand. You barely have time to see the outline of his mask as a blade crashed into your chest, piercing your heart.

You wake up startled, trying to catch your breath. It's a nightmare again. But different this time. As you gradually regained your mind, a hand landed on your shoulder that recoiled you with fear. When you look towards this hand, to find out who owns it, you suddenly feel relieved to see that it was Jed. You look at the clock and well...it was more than a nap.

“Sorry... I didn't mean to scare you. Everything's fine? You're shaking.” he said worried.

“I’m...I’m fine. Just a nightmare...That...damn Ghostface scares me even I'm far away from him. But I'm glad to see you.” You respond smiling a little at him.

You talk for about thirty of everything and nothing. Jed working from home since what happened, he doesn't really have any funny stories of the job to tell. He looked, with your permission of course, at your photo album, laughing from time to time on some embarrassing photo of you. His piercing blue eyes rose on you from time to time, and his face displayed that smile, his lips that you want to touch with yours.

“I envy you; you know. You've had parents who loved you, protected you and took care of you. I had... soulless bodies. I hope I will have the opportunity to meet them one day. With the life they've had, at least from what you've told me, I'm sure they have some fascinating stories to tell.” said Jed a little melancholic.

“I... I'm sorry, but it won't be possible. it will never happen.” you answer sadly looking at him, surprised by your response “If...if I tell you everything, I want you to promise me you won't tell anyone.”

He hesitates for a few seconds before nodding.

“I... I lied.” you start, seeing him a little confused. “Remember that man who came to the café? Mr Parkson? It’s...it’s not my banker. It happened just after my parents' wedding anniversary, 5...6 years ago. at the time I already had my own apartment and I was working as a waitress in a small restaurant. I came to see them all weekend, it was our little daily ritual. My mother made the meal and I made dessert. But that day... I've seen my life come to an end. The house was barricaded. Police prevented anyone from entering the house. And then... I've seen them. In fact, I saw the two body bags they were carrying. I collapsed. The worst part is that an hour before, I had spoken to them on the phone. In the space of an hour... I lost the two people I loved the most in the world. And I don't even know why.” you said tears beading at the corners of their eyes.

“I... I’m sorry. Really. I didn't want to make you relive such a terrible day. No one knew or saw who killed them?” said Jed holding a handkerchief.

“No. They were both stabbed. The police thought of a burglary that went wrong but... nothing had been stolen. And from memory... I don't remember them having one or more enemies. They were nice to everyone.”

“A free murder, then. Or maybe a burglary went wrong actually. But that doesn't mean they deserved to die. So, Mr Parkson is...”

“The executor of my parents' will. I asked him for time to think about it. And when he came, I asked him for another week. I am the only heiress, even if they had very good relations with my uncles and aunts. They should have their share. And yet I'm the only one. Now you know the truth. I trust you to keep this to yourself.” You said with a little smile.

“I will. I promise. I suppose... that I also have a confession to make... I lied, too.” responds Jed clasping his hands and looking elsewhere.

You're looking at Jed, surprise. Him, lying? No one is perfect but it's still hard to imagine Jed lying. But lying about what? What could be so bad for him to lie? Maybe his parents treated him even worse than he said? Maybe he just doesn't have parents? That he lived in a foster home? Which would explain why he was treated so badly...

“I... I already have girlfriends when I was younger. 2 to be more accurate. The first one we didn't go far but we stayed on good terms. The second...” He starts before looking at you, breathing deeply. “Her name was Carla. She was as small as you. Red hair, green eyes... And a natural beauty. She was different from the others. She didn't see me as a little nerd hiding in a corner, being humiliated by big morons. No, she saw me as a normal person. A lot of boys were circling her. But it was me that she had chosen. We stayed together for four years.”

“Oh... It's really adorable... You must have been a lovely couple, and you love each other very much.” you said touched to know that in the end, Jed met someone who gave him what he always needed: love.

“Yeah... we had an apartment of ours. We were happy. And one day... She became seriously ill. She rushed back to the hospital. I thought she would make it. That she would be better and that we could go home, and live as before. But the reality came back to me in my face. Even today, 5 years later, I can't turn the page. But it's not the worst.” he replied, his hands shaking.

“What happened?”

“... The doctor who took care of her let her die. He could have treated her. But he let her die. I found out about it when I found her medical records. I did research, talked to other doctors, and they all told me the same thing: there was a treatment that could have saved her. When I went back to see her doctor...” He stops for a few seconds, as if he were looking for his words. “I insulted him with all the names, and I denounced him in a newspaper article. But it didn't go any further. You have no proof Mr Olsen. They're just accusations. Nothing more. That’s what I was told. And that's how it ended. In total injustice.” He said, looking at you, his eyes filled with sadness, anger and despair.

You don’t know what to do or what to say. Why people are so... Cruel? He could treat her and he let her die! Not to worry about the opinion or reaction of those around her! It's purely outrageous. And it is men like this who take care of the dying. Without thinking, you stand up in bed, to hug Jed, which caused him to startle slightly. Deep down, you know he needs it, and that in this room, at that moment, you're the only one who can comfort him. And for nothing in the world you wouldn't want to let go. But after a while, he will have to go home.

“Everything you went through, you didn't deserve. You had the right to be loved. Life is so cruel... I wish I could have been there to support you. Whenever you needed it, I wish I was there.” you said hugging him a little more.

He did not answer. And for several minutes none of you dared to move. You made the first gesture and released him. Reluctantly, of course. You smile at him, a sincere smile, sorry, but a beautiful smile. Suddenly, without warning, he pressed his lips against yours. Soft, like silk, just like last time. But this time, it was he who took the initiative. He recoiled slightly and just as you were going to speak, a nurse opened the door, signalling the end of the visit.

“I'll pick you up tomorrow. Be ready, sleep well.” He said dropping a quick kiss on the lips before leaving.

It took you a few minutes to get your mind back, before you blushed of what had just happened. Jed kissed you. It was HE who kissed you. Not you. It was sudden, unexpected, it was... It was very nice. You would have liked to keep him with you, kiss him over and over again but unfortunately... you are not at home. The nurse gave you the care, while another brought you the evening meal: potato salad, a steak with carrots, a small cheese and a compote. It's like a school canteen meal. The evening came quickly, you know he's coming. It's only a matter of time before he...

“I'm going to think you're inviting me in, you know that?” he said, chuckling

“You're not going to tell me you'd rather go into people's homes by offense?” you respond looking at Ghostface.

“Oh? You're not insulting me tonight? No fear? What happened, did you gain courage by magic?

“Let's say that now I expect to see you every night... It's starting to become a habit. Then? Are you still playing the nice little Ghostface or are you that sadistic lunatic following me everywhere again?”

“Ha ha, we'll say both. But obviously I see you're feeling better. I can't wait to visit your apartment again every night. But I'm also here to tell you... that I'm preparing everything for that dear McKellan. You'll see when he's dead, you'll finally be in peace. Or almost.” Said Ghostface taking gently your face with one hand.

“I'll never be quiet while you're here. And there's no way I'm going to let you do that!” you said before you feel his hand tightening on your chin.

“You're really going to have to stop living in your fucking fairy tale. And you seem to forget that if you ever report me to the police... I'll kill you, or I'll kill your dear little Jed. Besides, I don't understand what you find him by the way...” he replied shrugging his shoulders, bringing his face closer to yours. “But I love women like you. Who resists me by using another man as distraction.”

You raise your hand to push him away and hit him, but you both heard steps. he finally let you go and miming you to shut up, he walked to the window and sent you a kiss before disappearing. If you wanted to know more about him, for tonight it's missed. But you know he'll come back to you.

And this time, you'll succeed. You lie down and close your eyes to sleep. And for the first time you feel soothed. Because even if this Ghostface is the devil himself... You have an angel to protect yourself.

And his name is Jed Olsen.

***

(Well, it’s done! To be honest I didn't think I'd get here, I thought I was going to get tired but finally I want to continue to the end even though I know that one day I'm going to confront this problem of the blank page ... But hey I'll cross my fingers so that it happens as late as possible! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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ryvgvji · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1 | War

This is the first chapter to this new started series, i hope you guys enjoy

Also, in this series Stain died instead of being incarcerated.

Warnings_ Death, Violence, Cursing, Blood, Self-harm, The use of the n-word once

I’m always ready for a war again, Go down that road again, It’s all the same

You were walking around the city, just out on a scroll. You had your earphones in with your hoodie on. You played your playlist with all your songs that helped you calm down. Right now you were going through it and just really needed to calm down. You didn’t want anything to do with anyone right now.

As you walked down the lowly dimmed street, you felt as though you were being followed. You didn’t really pay it mind but every block that you turned the feeling didn’t fade. Slowly speeding up, you walked even faster down the street. The feeling stayed the same. Starting to get anxious, you started to jog.

“Hey! Stop!” A deep voice said. Just turning your head you see that it was a cop chasing after you. ‘Oh shit, you gotta be kidding me’ you thought. You started to run down the block turning the corner. “Stop running!” The cop shout after you once more. They’re on your heel, so close to catching you. Just when you were about to turn into a dark alley, they tackled you.

“Get off of me!!” You screamed as you tried to push the man’s weight off of you. “Stop resisting!” He pushes your face harder in the concrete. “Ow! Stop! Your hurting me.” You cry as he has his knee on your back and he roughly pulls your arms behind you. He places the handcuffs on your wrist and used his hand to push your face even more in the concrete. “You fucking nigger, you deserve to be in jail.” He spat. With the hand on your head he pulls you up by your hair and put you to sit on the floor. He paged the base and in less than 10 minutes a cop car pulled up and you were pushed into the back.

“Hey tiny, where’ve you been?” Twice asked as you walked through the door. You were fuming with rage, and you were ready to release it. You held your hand up to him and walked over to the stool next to him at the bar. “Not right now. Kuro please pour me something to drink.” You say lowly. You hung your head down with your hoodie still on.

“Here’s your drink Y/N.” Kurogiri sets the glass in front of you. You take a hold of the glass and was about to bring it to your lips when a hand stops you. Looking over to the owner of the hand, it was Shigaraki. “What happened to your face?” He looks at the scratches and bruises on your cheek and forehead. “Don’t touch me please.” You lift his hand off your own, continuing your action to down your drink.

“Can you turn on the tv.” You say to Kurogiri. Complying he does so and the news channel flips on. Breaking news popped on the screen.

“We are just receiving news that Stain, the hero killer, has been pronounced dead after being admitted to the hospital for a punctured lung while fighting with heroes.” The lady reporter said. What? Who did she just say? “Let’s have a talk with some of victims that experienced this attack.” No.

“I was just here with my wife when out of nowhere a ugly looking monster came out of nowhere and started to attack us. We could see Stain and the pro-heroes fighting against each other.” A guy with brown hair said into the mic. “Yeah I witnessed the whole thing! Stain was going at it with the pro-heroes and then all of a sudden he stopped and fell to the ground.” Another victim explained.

“Turn it up.” you said softly trying to keep composure. The volume on the tv increase and the reporter came back on the screen. “We’re about to show to the real time footage of the scene.” The reporter said. The shaky and slightly blurry clip started to play on the tv. Screams and yells could be heard by the civilians running pass. You watch in hurt and anger as Stain fell to his knees in front of a hero. You wanted to vomit. You wanted to cry out screaming. You wanted to punch the tv. You wanted blood. That’s all you wanted at this moment.

“I’m pretty happy that he’s dead now honestly. Killing heroes because you didn’t think that they lived up to your expectations, excuse my language, but that’s utter bullshit.” A lady spoke on the screen.

“Turn it off.” you gripped the glass that was in front of you harshly. “Huh?” Twice looked over at you. Hanging your head down, you repeated your sentence. “Turn. Off. The. Tv.” you said in broken words. Not wasting any time, Kurogiri turned of the tv.

“Would you like to talk about it Y/N?” Kurogiri said in a low calm tone. You shake your head. You kept a tight grip on your glass, wanted to throw it so bad, but opting not to. “I know that I said before I don’t want to part take in any of your activities, but I think I want to now.” you spoke in a serious and low tone that sent shivers down the three men’s spine. You lift your head up and they could see the anger and rage in your eyes as they changed color to red with tears spilling out of them. This happened because of your quirk. They heard about your quirk but they never seen it in live action. And by the looks of it, it was super powerful.

With a split smile on his face, Shigaraki nodded his head in approval. “I think it is time Y/N. It time that you make them pay. Pay for what they did to Stain. To you.” he encourages, placing his gloved hands on your shoulders. “Let go of me. Now.” you say through gridded teeth, ready to go off on him in less than ten seconds. Feeling your body tense up he removes his hands and you relax. “I’ll go on the next mission with you all. I think the world needs to see who Y/N L/N is.” You release the glass that you’ve been holding in a death grip for the pass 15 minutes and hop off the stool walking down the dark hall to your room. Looking at the glass Twice saw that it had a crack on the side. “This is perfect, now we have another member. For sure, with Y/N, we will conquer.” Shigaraki says as he itches his neck.

In your bedroom you were seated on the floor with a sharp knife in your hand. It was one that Stain had gave to you to use for protect when he first met you. You’ve known Stain for 7, almost 8 years. He took you in under his wings and was like a father figure to you since your biological parents didn’t want you in their life. He wasn’t the caring and nurturing type but you could tell from the way he’d treat other people and you. You had a special place in his heart for sure. Now, he’s gone. He was your own hope and stability in life. You can’t believe it. You don’t want to believe it. It’s killing you inside and out.

You cry to yourself as you drag the blade of the knife against your thigh. There was blood leaking out of the wounds that you had made not to long ago. You watched as the crimson warm liquid flowed out of the newly cut onto the wooden floors. Putting the blade to your other thigh you make two other cuts watching as blood seeps out. You felt the pain but you didn’t care. This was the only to make yourself feel better. You then looked at your forearm seeing the bruises and scratches that littered across your dark skin. You hated it. You hated how you were constantly attacked and called out just for the color of your skin.

Using the knife, you cut a long stripe on your arm. And again. And again. And again. At this point your skin was cover in dripping blood that is started to crust up. Placing the knife down on the ground, you go to the mirror and look at yourself. You look like a walking crime scene. Your eyes are red and slightly puffed. You take a deep breath and exhale. You make eye contact with your reflection. You could see that your eyes were now purple.

“They’re gonna pay.”

#mha #mha anime #boku no hero academia #bnha anime #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugo x poc!reader #mha x black reader

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downwiththeficness · 4 years ago

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A Need So Great-Chapter 10

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count:

Warnings: Alcohol, smut, unprotected sex

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

The bathing suit still fit. Eva was glad of it, she hadn’t had time to go out and shop for a new one. A cherry red halter top paired with high waisted bottoms, she’d purchased it a year or so previous on a whim and only worn it a handful of times. Being a consultant for the DEA didn’t lend itself to lounging by the water. She threw on a soft cotton cover up, stepped into her sandals, and grabbed the fifth of vodka sitting on her counter before walking over to Steve and Connie’s apartment.

The sun was shining brightly that day, as it did most days. And, like most days, the humidity was high. Eva could feel the heat rising from the asphalt as she crossed the parking lot and made her way down the street. When she got to their door, she shifted the vodka to the crook of her arm and knocked.

The door opened and Steve welcomed her in with a wave of his hand. He was wearing swim trunks and an unbuttoned short sleeve shirt, his hair wet and slicked back. She shuffled inside, putting the vodka in the freezer and heading out through the back door to a rectangular courtyard. The pool was encircled by a black metal fence about waist high. She spotted Connie standing next to Javier at the grill, setting down a plate of uncooked meat. She caught sight of Eva and smiled wide beneath her shades.

“C’mon,” she yelled, waving her hand wildly, “We have the pool for about four hours—til the sun goes down.”

Eva returned the wave, passing through the gate and over to where a few lounge chairs were situated, towels hanging over the back. Umbrellas provided each lounge with some shade from the sun.

“Okay,” Eva said, motioning to the courtyard, “Someone in housing definitely hates me. My shower barely works and you’ve got a fucking pool.”

Connie rolled her eyes, “Yeah, with a schedule so tight and political it could run for president. It took two months of sending brownies to the landlord just to get a half day booked.”

Eva squinted at her, “You have to book time?”

Nodding, Connie gestured for Eva to sit on the lounge chair opposite her, “I know, right? There are families here who have standing appointments months out.”

Steve, having followed Eva outside, called out, “What Connie isn’t telling you is that I slipped a stack of money into one of the brownie pans last week. Only way we got the permission.”

“Can’t you just...jump in?”

Connie’s eyes went wide, “Oh, Jesus. Saw someone try to do that the first week here. The guards fucking swarmed them, hauled ‘em out. Haven’t seen them since.”

Sounds about right, Eva thought. Everything seemed to be a quid pro quo down here. She’d seen a couple agents pay off their informants only to turn around and expense it to the department. Money could buy literally anything here.

“Let me tell you what happened yesterday at work,” Connie sighed, turning to lay back on the lounge, “I started at the NICU four months ago and I thought I had a handle on it. But, oh no, one of the other nurses has been taking my reports and shredding them. So, now my boss thinks I just don’t turn in my work.”

“No way,” Eva blurted out, scandalized.

“Yes, way,” Connie confirmed, pushing her sunglasses up on her nose, “So, I started making copies and locking them in my desk. But, I found out one of the maintenance guys has been letting her into it and she’s been taking my copies.”

Eva rested her head on her palm, mouth curling, “What’re you going to do about it?”

Connie smirked, “A little Ipicac in her morning coffee.”

Brows hitting her hairline, Eva’s mouth dropped. Connie was a forceful woman, could be outright domineering when she wanted something, but this was shocking behavior for her.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Its harmless. Just a little vomiting during the staff meeting.”

“Does she know you did it?” Eva’s voice came out as a whisper, as if she was trying to keep the story secret.

“Nope,” Connie shook her head, blonde hair falling over one shoulder, “I was pretty slick about it.”

“I’m sure,” Eva confirmed. “One question: How is the behavior going to stop if she doesn’t know it was you who did it?”

Connie shrugged, “Every time one of my copies goes missing, I’ll do it again. She’ll get the picture eventually. I also had Steve get me a false bottom for my desk. I’ll have a third copy waiting, just in case.”

The smell of meat wafted over, a welcome change from the chlorine. Eva glanced at Javier and Steve, both of them staring at the grill intently. Javier was fidgeting with a metal spatula, forearm wiping at his brow.

“Is that a guy thing? Standing by the grill and watching food cook?”

Even though Eva couldn’t see Connie’s eyes behind her shades, she could tell that the other woman was rolling them, “I guess. Every man I know does it.”

“Same here,” Eva said, eyes squinting. “I mean, they’re not even talking.”

Connie laughed a little, reaching into the cooler and handing Eva a beer. She popped the top for her and grabbed one for herself, “I suppose it could be worse.”

“Could be fireworks.”

Brows raised, Connie asked, “Is there a story there?”

“Ah,” Eva edged, “When I was a kid, my parents used to have this block party on the fourth with this huge fireworks display. One of the neighbors built a potato cannon that they primed with hairspray. One year they shot roman candles out of it.”

Jaw open, Connie took a few seconds to reply, “Did...someone get hurt?”

“Oh, no,” Eva clarified, dismissing the thought with a wave of her hand, “A window got knocked out, but no one got hurt.”

A while later, Eva was fanning herself with her hand, sweat falling down her neck. In the late afternoon, the sun beat down on them. Even with the umbrellas above, Eva could feel her body fighting to keep itself cool. Standing, she pulled off her cover up.

“I’m getting in,” she declared, “I can’t take it any more.”

Connie laughed and stood with her, “I’ll go with you. Nice suit, by the way.”

Eva thanked her, returning the sentiment. Connie was wearing a canary yellow one piece, the thighs cut high to highlight her muscular thighs. She threw off her sunglasses and pulled her hair atop her head into a tight bun. Eva wished she’d thought to bring a hair tie. She’d never really been concerned about the way her hair curled in irregular little ringlets and waves before, but knowing that Horacio would be stopping by afterwards made her a little self conscious. With a little effort, she shrugged it off and darted out to the edge of the pool, jumping in.

The water was cool, a shock to her body as it enveloped her. Eva felt the air rush out of her lungs as she sunk beneath the surface. Her feet touched down and she kicked hard, breaching the water with a sharply indrawn breath.

Wiping the water from her eyes, she laughed at Connie, who had used the ladder to drop daintily into the pool.

“I haven’t done that since I was a kid,” she said, her cheeks hurting a bit with the force of her smile.

Connie nodded enthusiastically, “We had a pool, too. Above ground. Mom would make us wear pool floats the whole time we were in it.”

Eva shook her head, “I suppose there’s something to be said for safety. I was an only child, so my parents let me do whatever I wanted, mostly.”

“Are they still around?”

Eva swallowed, her eyes falling to the water she was swishing between her fingers, “No, they died a long time ago.”

“Oh, my God,” Connie gasped, “I’m sorry. How did it happen, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It was an accident,” Eva explained.

It was the same explanation that she’d given a million people before and would likely continue to give. A plane crash. No survivors. They were headed to a little resort that Josh had booked for their anniversary. Eva could still remember what her mother’s face had looked like when Josh handed her the tickets—excited and charmed. It turned her stomach.

Connie read her expression and approached slowly, arms pushing through the water, “Was it… was it because of your husband? Because of the things he did?”

Eva had been as honest as she could about the things that had occurred in her marriage, had told Connie about the way she learned to cover bruises, about how she used the work to give her purpose even though she knew it resulted in the destruction of people’s lives, about how he hurt her less when she did a good job.

“Yeah,” she croaked. “Um, I tried to run away—had a passport and some cash hidden. I can’t prove it, but I think he killed them to make a point.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eva,” Connie breathed. “That’s horrifying.”

Eva blinked at Connie, trying to smile, “It was a long time ago. I’ve made my peace with it.”

“That’s not something you make peace with.”

She was right, Eva hadn’t made peace with it, not really. It had taken a long time for her to stop feeling guilty and to place the blame solely on Josh. It was part of the reason that she was able to kill him that night. She’d channeled all that rage into the fight, and she’d finally come out the victor.

“I got him back, though, didn’t I?” She said, chin lifting.

“Yes, you did.”

They swam for a while, until the food was done. Steve called out to them, a pair of tongs clapping together in one hand. They ate off paper plates, beers fresh from the cooler dripping condensation onto the cement below.

After wards, Eva laid back on the lounge, feeling sleepy. She kept a beer next to her, drinking from it lazily. One arm thrown over her head, she stretched her legs out long, enjoying the sun and relaxation. That’s how Horacio found her. Eyes closed, half shaded by the umbrella, suit drying out on her body. She heard him walk up and sit on the lounge next to hers.

Eva opened her eyes and smiled, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

She sat up, swinging her legs around so that she could face him, “You get everything done at work?”

He nodded, “Got some paperwork in the truck I need to finish. I parked at your place, I hope you don’t mind.”

“That’s no problem, you park there most of the time anyways.”

That was very much the truth. They hadn’t spent many nights away from one another, almost all of them at her place. Horacio told her that he liked her apartment better than his house because it was cozier. Eva could see why. She’d finally gotten to see his house, and it was sparsely decorated, indicative of a man who lived at work and only slept when he had to.

“Did you eat?” she asked.

Another nod, “Since its a Saturday, we order take out for the guys.”

Eva started to reach out to touch him, but the first two fingers of his right hand lifted quickly, stopping the motion.

“There are a lot of eyes here.”

Right. Although he hadn’t explained in detail, Javier had let it slip during a meeting that Carillo had a literal bounty on his head. In his fight against the rise of drugs in the country, he’d ruffled a lot of feathers. And, that made anyone associated with him vulnerable. When they were in public, he kept a distance between them and, outside of rare occasions, he didn’t touch her. The longer they were together, to more strict he became about it. Eva was still adjusting.

Eva pointed to the swim trunks he was wearing, “Did you go home to change or did you wear this to the office?”

Shooting her a sardonic look he asked, “What do you think?”

“I know, I know,” she replied, “God forbid you show up anything less than immaculate.”

It was probably the only point of contention between them. He always got up early to get dressed for the day. Eva argued constantly that he could go in one day without going through his entire routine, his coworkers wouldn’t notice. He argued back that he was supposed to be setting an example and that meant ironing his undershirt. She hadn’t yet managed to convince him to sleep in with her, his internal clock kicking in like….well, clockwork.

Now, though, he was wearing teal colored swim trunks and one of his more casual polo shirts. His hair was still combed back from his face, the curls tamed by the pomade he kept next to his aftershave on her bathroom counter. He’d taken a little extra time to shave that morning.

Eva gestured towards the cooler, “Go get yourself a beer. Relax for two seconds.”

She watched him as he rose and sauntered over to the little cooler by the grill, greeting the others along the way. Connie stepped over and sat next to her, leaning a little into Eva’s space.

She handed Eva a fresh beer, saying, “So… you guys are good?”

Eva nodded, “Yep.”

Connie stared at her.

“What?”

“You like him.”

Eva snorted, “Of course I like him. We literally discussed this a few days ago.”

“No, I mean you really like him,” Connie clarified, “You do this thing where the more you want something, the less you talk about it.”

Looking at her with a flustered expression, “What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?”

Connie took a swig from the bottle in her hand, “I don’t know, maybe admit that you like him more than you let on and you’re afraid that its going to self destruct because you’re both working dangerous jobs in a dangerous country where one or both of you could be killed and the pressure is a little too high for such a new relationship.” She took a deep breath, “And that scares the shit out of you.”

Eva’s mouth thinned as she regarded her friends, “Way to put it so succinctly.”

“Thank you.” A beat, “So, are you going to admit it?”

Eva glared.

Connie rolled her eyes, “Alright, don’t admit it. We both know its true.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eva glowered. Then, after taking just a moment to think about it, she said, “He thinks I’m going to become a target if they find out.”

She didn’t have to say who ‘they’ were. Connie knew, had married into it.

“That’s possible.”

“I don’t know how to prove that I’m not scared. Hell, I was on the other side of this fifteen years ago. I know the risks.”

Connie rolled a shoulder, resting her arms on her knees, her gaze following her husband as he told yet another wild story, “Sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“Some thought,” Eva agreed.

“Sounds like you’re willing to take on those risks.”

“Some risks.”

“Sound like you just admitted you like him a lot.”

“Jesus, Connie,” Eva grumbled.

Flashing a smile at Eva, Connie cajoled, “Is it that hard to admit?”

“Given my last long standing relationship ended in literal murder, I would say I’ve got grounds to be cautious.”

Lifting a finger, Connie asserted firmly, “Cautious, not cowardly.”

She had a point. Eva kind of resented her for it.

They spent another hour or so talking among themselves, until the cooler ran out of beer.

“I bet that vodka’s good and cold,” Eva announced, heading for the gate. She didn’t bother with a towel or her cover up, already mostly dry from the sun.

Connie threw up her hands, “Yes! There’s orange juice in the fridge. And, another six pack.”

“I’ll help,” Carrillo offered, following Eva towards the door.

The sliding glass rumbled as she pulled it open, pushing through the vertical blinds to duck inside. The air conditioning hit her hard, goosebumps rising over her skin. She hissed a little bit, rubbing at her arms as she made her way across the kitchen to the fridge. Behind her, the heavy glass door slid closed.

Bare feet shuffling across the tile, Eva opened the fridge and found the six pack and orange juice, setting them on the counter beside her before pulling the vodka out of the freezer. It was definitely cold enough, the bottle immediately frosting despite the cool air.

“You know, there’s going to come a time when I’ll be able to out drink Connie, but today is not going to be that day,” she said with a smile.

Eva stood and ran abruptly into Horacio, who reached behind her to shut the freezer door, the other hand taking the bottle from her and setting it next to the orange juice and the beer. Without further preamble, he leaned down and kissed her hard. She squeaked a little, unprepared for it, before settling into the motion.

He pulled away, hands skimming her waist and hips, “I’ve been meaning to do that since I got here.”

Eva wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “I think we’ve discussed that you’re free to kiss me whenever you want.”

“Not always,” he replied, the implication heavy in his tone.

She gave a little bob of her head in understanding, “Still, offer’s on the table.”

“Noted,” he whispered before leaning down and kissing her again. Slower. Deeper. “Have I told you how much I like kissing you?”

Eva smiled as she ruffled the little hairs on the nape of his neck, “The feeling is mutual.”

Hands spanning her waist, he gazed down the length of her body, “Have I told you how much I like this suit.” His grip tightened the tiniest bit, “So much skin.”

At this, Eva’s smile morphed into an abashed laugh, “You’ve seen me in less.”

His brows quirked, mouth curving into an almost but not quite smile, “Usually, I can touch you.”

“You’re touching me now, Big Guy.”

She watched his lips as he pulled them in between his teeth, pressing lightly before letting go. He pulled her into him until they were pressed together, standing between the counter and the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. Little kisses trailed up her neck to her jaw, and finally to her mouth. Though his arms held her tight, his mouth was soft and gentle, tongue snaking out to taste.

The easiness of the kiss, the fact that they’d been apart for almost a day, the knowledge that once they stepped back outside she couldn’t touch him again until they were safely ensconced in her apartment made Eva greedy to have what she could, when she could. Despite the fact that he wasn’t doing much more than holding her, she felt the echo of arousal bloom in her belly. Lifting up onto her toes, she deepened the kiss, tilting her hips into him.

His response was...absolutely to be expected. Thigh pushing between her legs, he walked her back to the counter until it dug into her lower back. One hand came up to grip her damp hair, angling her head back so that he could press his face into her neck. Eva tried to roll her chin down to get at him again, but he held her still.

Dark eyes looked up at her from beneath his lashes, “As soon as we get back to your apartment.”

It took her maybe half a second to process his meaning, and then she was giving a quick jerk of her head. He breathed deeply, taking in her scent, before stepping away. Shoulders tense, he picked up the orange juice and six pack and gesturing towards the sliding glass doors.

With shaking hands, Eva grabbed the vodka, thankful for the freezing bottle. She pressed it to her belly, walking ahead of Horacio. By the pool, the group had gathered on the lounge chairs.

Eva held up the bottle as she approached, “I come bearing gifts!”

“Ah, Jesus,” Javier groaned, leaning over to stage whisper to Steve, “I don’t think I’m up for this.”

Connie rolled her eyes as she took to bottle from Eva, cracking it open, “Man up, Javier. This is a party.”

He reached into the pocket of his jacket, hanging from the back of the chair, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, “All your parties end in fights.”

“Excuse me,” Connie retorted, offended, “One party ended in a fight, thank you very much.”

Eva frowned, “Is this the bar fight, gun fight?”

Beside Connie, Steve dropped his head into his palm, shaking it. Javier took a drag and blew out the smoke. Connie glared.

“So, here’s what happened,” Javier said, making room for Carrillo to sit by him. “We’re at a work thing, schmoozing with the big wigs in the department. Usual stuff. One guy gets a little drunk and makes a pass at Connie, who proceeds to grab his hand and break it.”

“Sprain it,” Connie cut in. “I sprained it. Barely.”

Javier scoffed, “Anyways, the guy happens to be a major player for this political group who gave us money. They don’t give us money anymore.”

Connie handed Eva a cup—vodka and orange juice, “What was I supposed to do? Let the guy grab my ass in a room full of people.”

Eva thought about it, “I agree with Connie. Break his fucking hand.”

“Thank you,” Connie said, touching Eva’s arm in solidarity.

“One thing I don’t understand,” Eva said, crossing one leg over the other, “How is that a fight?”

Javier’s brows lifted as he recalled, “Oh, right. Steve got in the guy’s face.”

Eva made a sound of disbelief, “Alright, no. This wasn’t Connie’s fault, Steve’s the one who escalated things.”

“What was I supposed to do?” he echoed Connie’s sentiment.

She shrugged, “I’m not the best person to answer that question.”

Three pairs of eyes crept over to Carrillo, who was already shaking his head, “I probably would have done the same.”

Eva had to take a deep drink from her cup to cover the expression unfolding on her face. She couldn’t help the image of him pushing into someone’s space, a threat spoken lowly. His thick frame blocking any hope of escape. Eva thought she’d like to see that someday.

“That’s not the point,” Javier cut in.

“What is the point?” Connie asked.

“That your parties end in fights.”

“One party—not even my party.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Eva blurted, setting down her cup. She grabbed Connie’s hand, “Let’s go.”

Tugging the woman along, Eva hauled ass towards the pool tumbling headfirst into the water. She heard a second splash nearby, and she smiled beneath water as she kicked to the surface. Breaching, Eva pushed her hair back from her face, her eyes going wide as she caught a body flying over her, sending a wave of water over her. She ducked under, hearing a third splash.

Coming up laughing, she spotted both Javier and Steve swimming away, Connie following not far behind, shouting. She looked up, smiling at Carrillo, who was popping to top off a beer.

“You gonna join us?”

He looked dubious.

“Oh, don’t tell me you can’t swim,” Eva wheedled before ducking down and pushing off the edge of the pool to shoot out towards the center.

She popped up next to Javier, dodging Connie as she pushed him under. Tiptoeing around Steve, Eva put a little distance between them, her wide smile dropping as she looked down to the other side. Carrillo had set down his beer and was walking towards the pool, tugging off his polo. She would never, ever get used to it. Eva had spent many nights holding onto those shoulders, feeling him move between her thighs, and she was still struck dumb. He caught her eye, and though his expression didn’t change, she could tell that he was gloating. With sure movements, he gave a little bounce and then his arms swung forward as he executed a seamless dive into the pool.

Righting herself, Eva leaned against the wall of the pool, flicking water at Connie, who swam up beside her.

“Please tell me you…”

“Yeah.”

“And its…”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Eva confirmed with a long sigh.

They relaxed in the water as the sun started it descent towards the horizon. Eva held her position against the wall, talking with Connie and trying like hell to keep her eyes and her hands off Horacio. It seemed all too easy for him to act casually—a little sarcasm here, a little small talk there. She envied that ability. Her body, already attuned to him, seemed constantly on edge. Anticipation simmering under her skin to the point that she was surprised the water around her wasn’t gently steaming.

Too soon, a couple men in uniforms approached the gate, yelling out towards them. Connie grumbled and loudly announced that their time was at an end. They were, evidently, being forced out. After gathering the cooler and towels, they headed inside.

The phone was ringing, pausing the conversation for a moment. Steve answered it, speaking for a few minutes, then hanging it up. He looked annoyed.

“Well, looks like we’re heading into the office tomorrow.”

Connie scowled, “Its a Sunday.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve replied with a shake of his head, “We’ve got a meeting. You too, Carrillo.”

Beside her, Carrillo put his hands on his hips, “They tell you want its about?”

“Nope, just said we report in at eight.”

Eva pushed her wet hair back from her face then pulled her cover up over her body despite the fact that her suit was still pretty wet, “They say anything about me coming in?”

Steve opened the cooler and popped the top off another beer, “No. I think its just us three.”

She nodded. Highly classified meeting, then. She didn’t want to admit that she felt left out, so she shrugged and said, “Alright. I’m going to head home. Thank you for having me over, Connie.”

Connie hugged her, “Thanks for coming over and saving me from hearing more about office politics.”

They said their goodbyes and Eva headed out into the night, stars just beginning to shine above her. A little tipsy, she strolled along leisurely, not surprised when Carrillo followed.

“That was really fun,” she said when he moved up beside her, keeping pace.

He made a noncommittal sound, his gaze focused in front of them.

“When was the last time you actually spent a weekend afternoon not attached to your desk doing paperwork?”

Or, attached to her kitchen island, or the little dining room table in the nook of his house. More often than not, he brought files home with him. Eva had seen him sign his name so many times she could have probably forged it by now.

Lifting a shoulder, he replied, “Its been a long time.”

Eva scratched at the skin above her brow, a little unsure of herself, “You should do things for fun more often.”

He looked at her, “I assume you have ideas.”

“I might,” she said coyly, spinning to walk backwards in front of him, “There’s apparently some beautiful scenery, here. We could go hiking.”

His brows lifted and she could see a ghost of a smile, “We could do that.”

“Alright, its decided, then. We’ll go hiking when you get some time off.”

Eva knew that it was a long shot that he’d have more than a day off at a time, if past history was anything to go by. Still, it was nice to make plans, ambiguous as the timing may be. She hadn’t ever made plans like this before, and the prospect made her warm inside.

Keying into her apartment, Eva left the door open for him to come in. She started to say something innocuous about being home again, but she was cut off. Horacio grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into his body and kissed her. She gave a stilted gasp, arms coming up to rest on his biceps.

Hands traveling down her body, he scrunched the fabric of her cover up in his palms, pulling it up and over her head. When he slipped the pads of his fingers down into her suit bottoms, Eva stepped back, pulling him along with her.

“I have to get this chlorine out of my hair,” she explained, pacing backwards towards the bathroom, “You want to join me?”

Fire sparked in his eyes, his steps guiding her back and into her bedroom, rounding the corner and pushing her into the bathroom. As she moved to turn on the taps, he pulled at the ties of her top, throwing the fabric to the floor. After doing the same with her bottoms, he yanked her back into his chest, one hand tracing down her stomach in a confident caress.

He cupped her mound, fingers sliding through her folds and pressing firmly. Eva swallowed back a moan, head tipped back as he kissed along her shoulder down to her collarbone. Steam began to fill the room, heat wafting from the shower. She reluctantly pulled away, tugging off his shirt and swim trunks and stepping into the spray.

Eva half expected that he would push her against the tile and fuck her against it. His touch was impatient in a way that was new and shot heat straight into her core. She was, however, surprised to find that he reached down and grabbed her shampoo, lathering it through her strands thoroughly. He crowded her under the water, tilting her head around to rinse the suds away. She watched him grab a loofah and pour some body wash on it, her skin sizzling with anticipation.

Long, careful strokes swept the pool water from her body. She could feel the arousal that was always at a low simmer ramping up even though his touch wasn’t remotely sexual. Unable to help herself, she pressed a kiss to his sternum, resting her forehead against his chest. He sighed, his arms wrapping around her.

Wanting to return the favor, Eva reached back and took the loofah from him, running it over his broad chest, his stomach, his thighs. Though his erection bobbed up between them, she avoided it for the moment. Switching sides with him, she let the water fall over his body, her hands pushing the soap down towards the tub.

Dropping the loofah, Eva grabbed the shampoo and poured just a little into her hand, arms lifting to gently scrub it through his curls, finally free of the pomade he regularly combed through it. Using her nails, she lightly scratched at his scalp, smiling when his eyes closed in pleasure. Tilting his head back, Eva rinsed the shampoo from his hair, hands tracing down his face and neck.

Leaning down, Horacio’s lips found hers, his tongue darting out to taste. The water falling over his back sluiced down to run between her breasts and down her stomach. Eva pressed against him rolling her hips invitingly.

He broke the kiss with a moan, one hand grabbing her ass. Eva knew that, if she didn’t act quickly, he’d slot his fingers inside her and she would cease to be able to think, let alone respond. The omega in her loved that he was taking care of her, reveled in it, even. But the omega in her also wanted to make him want her just as much as she wanted him, wanted him feeling wild with it.

Lightly, so as to not give herself away, Eva traced down his chest, palm turning so that she could grasp him in her hand. He rested his forehead against her temple, mouth open, breath stuttering. She pumped him slowly, but firmly, wrist twisting at the top.

When the hand holding her hip started to dip down towards her center, Eva stopped him, holding him by the wrist. She kissed him, teeth catching at his lower lip. The wrist in her palm flexed as he tried to pull free. Eva shook her head, stroking him just a little faster. He groaned, pushing his thigh between hers, using the hand on her ass as leverage to drag her clit against him.

He breathed her name, the sound of it loud against the tiled walls. Eva felt her chest swell at the strain in his tone, power building with every choked moan, every sigh. She watched him lick his lips, her gaze dropping to his cock. He was hard, pulsing, his hips tilting towards her. It was a sight that she knew would always be with her, a feverish memory locked intimately with his scent.

As she contemplated dropping to her knees, the water began to turn cold. Eva laughed as he hissed, spinning to turn off the faucet. When he looked at her, Eva’s laughed faded, blood rushing in her ears at the intensity of his expression. He ushered her out of the tub, hands pushing her forward. Impatient, he hauled her up and over his shoulder, walking quickly to the bed.

He tossed her down, her body bouncing with the force. Eva watched him crawl over her, the muscles of his body flexing with every motion. More deep, intense kisses followed, his hands arranging her beneath him. When she reached for him, he swatted her away, lifting to his knees. Balanced over her, Horacio opened the nightstand to grab a condom.

When he paused, brows together, Eva asked him what was wrong, her voice a hoarse rasp.

His eyes closed, his chin dropping to his chest, “We’re out.”

She squinted up at him, “Out?”

“Of condoms, we’re out.”

That was impossible. She’d gone out and bought some maybe two days ago, they couldn’t possibly…Her brain very eagerly explained that they had been having a lot of sex. Eva tried to suppress it, but the giggle burst forth, her hands coming up to cover her face.

Horacio looked down at her, mouth half smiling, “I’m glad you’re amused.”

Affectionately, Eva pulled him down to her, rolling them to their sides, “C’mere.”

Her name was a warning as it passed his lips, but she shut him up with a kiss. Stroking along his skin, Eva kept kissing him until he relaxed against her, big body falling deep into the mattress. Arms wrapping around her, he rolled to his back, pulling one of her legs over his thigh. Hands on her hips, he encouraged her to move on him.

Eva couldn’t get close enough, her hands falling to his shoulders, using them to help her get friction on her clit. She ground down on him, her slick coating his skin and easing the movement. Still, she couldn’t quite get there. Her arousal burned through her, soaking into her very bones, but she couldn’t make herself come.

Sweat beaded on her temples, her muscles burning. She bit down on her lip, eyes closed. It wasn’t going to work, not when she could feel him pressed against her hip. Not when all she wanted was to be stuffed so full of him that she could barely move.

Shifting, Eva wavered over his body, weight on her palms as she kissed him, licking into his mouth. Moving determinedly, she opened her hips and swung her leg up and over, straddling him. The first contact seared through her, and her body screamed out that this was much better. She rocked against him, hands falling to his chest for balance.

“Yes,” he breathed, urging her faster, hands pulling at her hips, her thighs, “Like that, just like that.”

Eva picked up the rhythm he was guiding her to, her body working to get off. This was so, so much better, but she still couldn’t get there. She felt on fire from it, a whimpering, desperate mess. The orgasm was so fucking close, but not even his thumb circling over her clit was pushing her over the edge.

He pulled her down, sandwiching his cock between them, hips arching towards her. Horacio planted kiss after kiss over her neck, her chest, her jawline, her mouth. Little yearning growls sounded in the space between them. Eva pulled her knees beneath her, letting her hips open so that she could rub as much of her pussy against him as she could.

Every upward thrust brushed against her clit, every twist of her hips, coated him from root to tip. The pace picked up, and Eva’s eyes rolled back when their bodies aligned perfectly so that the head breached her just a little, sliding in then out and along the length of her folds.

Eva moaned his name, her nails digging into his shoulders. Beneath her, Horacio groaned long and low, eyes squeezed shut. Suddenly, he rolled her over, most of his weight falling atop her. His hands held her to the mattress so that he could grind down on her. Even though she could barely breathe, Eva let out a pleased gasp. The force of his body pushing against her, the way he buried his face in her neck, arms holding her tight, all of it pushed her pleasure higher.

“So good, so good,” she chanted, hands in his hair.

Lifting a little, he looked down between them, his cock pushing up through her her folds, wet and swollen. Hips fluid, he grabbed her ass in one hand, pulling her to him. Eva braced her feet on the mattress, shifting beneath him to get that feeling of him opening her up just a bit. It was almost enough, that tiny breach followed by a hard drag across her clit.

Giving a frustrated grunt, he dropped onto an elbow, catching her chin and forcing her to look at him, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you have to stop trying to fuck me, Eva.”

She whined, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, “I can’t help it. I want it. Please, Horacio.” She stole a kiss, “Feels so good with you inside me. Love when you fuck me.”

Against her, he pulsed, hips jerking. He blinked down at her, jaw unhinged. Deep breaths, grip tight, “Evangeline. Listen...listen. I’m gonna.” The thought alone seemed to spur him on, movements snapping against her, “I’m gonna… you need to listen. When I tell you, you need to let me pull out.”

Eager, she nodded, taking another kiss as he lined himself up and pushed inside. This, this was what she needed. Fuck, but he felt bigger than he ever had, the stretch tight. Eva arched, pushing her breasts into his chest, neck exposed for him to mouth along. Her body clenched so tight he couldn’t get more than an inch or two inside.

“Fuck, Eva. You have to let me in.” The words were half growled against her neck, teeth pressed against her skin.

She bit down on her response, “I’m trying.”

He pulled back, another thrust stunted by the squeeze of her cunt. His fists clenched beside her head, a wordless groan sounding.

“Try harder.”

Eva breathed deeply, trying to form coherent thoughts, “Maybe if you, if I...if you let me on top.”

He shook his head hard, “No. No—feels too good when you ride me.”

A laughed bubbled up, Eva cupped his face, catching his eyes, “Its supposed to feel good.”

“Too good. Come too fast,” he breathed, then, “How are you still so fucking tight?”

He still hadn’t bottomed out inside her, and Eva’s desperation grew every time he pulled out and pushed in again. She wanted him deeper, harder, wanted him to hold her down and leave bruises in his wake. In between breaths a plan formed. Eva reached down and grasped his hips for purchase, pulling him down as she rotated her hips up. Yes, yes! The feeling spanned electric down her spine.

With a curse, he snagged her hands, yanking them above her head, her name a warning on his lips. She arched her back, her hips working against him, moving on him from below. Ignoring a second warning, Eva rolled her hips as best she could, taking him further and further. He’d stilled above her, eyes watching as she moved.

His hands gripped her tighter, voice rough, “Look at you.”

She kept throwing her hips up until she’d worked him all the way inside, the feeling short circuiting any ability to think beyond the ‘more, more more’ that chanted in her head.

“There you go,” he praised, “Take what you need. Take it from me.”

The snap of his hips resumed, shoving his cock inside her and hitting every pleasurable spot she had. Eva felt a sharp, high pitched gasp rush out of her. Words fell from her lips, encouraging him, telling him how good it felt, how much she needed him, nonsense syllables rising along with the orgasm that fairly exploded outward from her center, her muscles locking down on him from the inside.

He rode her through as much of it as he could before he pulled away, reaching down to stroke himself—fast, hard pumps until he was spilling over her lower stomach. Still breathing hard, Eva leaned up and wiped the sweat from his brow, kissing his cheek softly. His come dripped over her mound, falling down over her lips. He watched it with dark eyes, jaw tight.

With one hand, he pushed her back to the mattress, the other threw a leg over his shoulder as he moved down the bed, mouth on her before she could draw her next breath. Eva might have had the capacity to be embarrassed by the sounds coming out of her, the choked, half screamed moans, but her body was already skyrocketing towards another orgasm. What pushed her over the edge was the sight of his hand, resting on her pelvic bone, sliding upwards to drag his come over her skin, his eyes watching her face. She threw back her head, cunt clenching down hard enough that her vision blacked out momentarily.

For a long time, she could only stare at the ceiling as she tried to catch her breath. She felt him move, heard his footsteps, sighed at the warm cloth he dragged over her sensitive skin so tenderly. He threw the cloth towards the bathroom, gathering her in his arms. She fell asleep to the feeling of him kissing her shoulder softly.

#narcos #horacio carrillo #carrillo #A Need So Great

46 notes · View notes

its-ya-boi-autumn · 4 years ago

Note

Omg omg omg its me AGAIN. Idk how its possible but im in love all over again. I was thinking, like idk ive got so many ideas but like what if one day adeline is like 15 and she kills someone out of instinct, rage etc. And shes rlly guilty and chrollo happens to be in the same city/area n sees n hes gives her the talk??? Like "it is what it is". Maybe even helps her hide the body n evidence so his ex s/o doesn't flip? Totally understand if u dont wanna do 2 requests in a row, love ya xx.

I'm totally fine with doing two in a row baby~ I'm just a little slow is all 🤣 I've had a lot of social interaction going on today and then I came home and now I gotta fix my room so if this doesn't come out the same day I apologize 😅 (probably won't, I'm just super tired) Warning: abuse and violence

Adeline’s chest was heaving, her throat feeling as if she were breathing fire instead of air. Her chest and cheeks were colored an angry red and her legs were beginning to go numb. She couldn’t fall now, not when he was quick on her heels. Tears stained her cheeks, still falling from her eyes. The adrenaline continued to push her forward. To keep her running as fast as she could. The ponytail that held her hair up finally gave way, allowing her long black hair to block some of her vision when she turned around for a split second.

Danny was still too close for her to even begin to slow, his stamina almost inhuman.

A sob wracked her entire body at the sight and she nearly tripped. Her eyes frantically darted everywhere. Where could she run that would slow him down? Could she hide anywhere? Was there anyone else around? She had to find something to at least slow him down. Was there anything at all? Running straight through the pathway in the woods had proven to be a bad idea after she came out into a vast meadow of nothing but grass and dirt patches.

“Adeline-”

“Leave me alone!” her voice screeched into the evening air, tearing at the tissue in her throat. She prayed her voice would be heard by someone. Anyone. Danny’s pace picked up, his arms quickly enveloping her, crushing her ribs.

“Adeline Lucilfer-”

“LET GO OF ME!” her fist reached up, coming into contact with his jaw and forcing his head up roughly. Danny released her, his hands covering his mouth at the throbbing pain he was probably experiencing. Adeline wasted no time to be proud of herself and began to run again, but her legs weren’t having it. The short time she had been stopped caused her muscles to relax and they wouldn’t cooperate anymore. Instantly, she fell forward, trying to force herself up again and keep going. She heard the deep groan of pain resonating in Danny’s chest. Her heart raced. What could she do? Her legs were rendered completely useless right now and there was nothing she could defend herself with other than her own two fists.

All the running she had done was starting to catch up to her too, her lungs having a hard time allowing her to breathe and her throat burning. Her body wouldn’t help her this time. She was sure she was done for. Adeline flipped onto her back, trying to almost crab walk away while Danny was still getting his bearings. When his eyes met hers, they were swirling with nothing but pure malice. He’d had enough.

“Adeline...” his voice was soft despite his hard face. Her own eyes grew wide, tears once again blurring her vision. The only thing she could actually see was Danny’s broad shape standing to his full height, strolling towards her slowly.

“No... no, no, no, no- Danny please, just leave me alone!” she opted to beg for him, hoping that some slimmer of his good side would show through, showing him what he was actually doing. What he was about to do. Danny didn’t seem to notice her begging or at the very least he didn’t seem to care. Adeline pushed herself up to run but she wasn’t fast enough. A harsh blow was received directly between her shoulder blades, forcing any air in her lungs out within a matter of seconds. She choked, falling onto her chest again. Coughing, she made another attempt to steady herself, but another hit was taken on her lower back. It didn’t hurt as bad as the first one, but the initial shock caused her to hesitate for just a moment too long. A rough hand snatched up her arm and suddenly her body was flipped onto its back. Danny dropped to his knees on top of her and she watched his fist slam into her chest.

Another hit.

Another.

And another.

Her face.

Her chest.

Her stomach.

Adeline was limp on the ground, her breathing becoming more and more labored as the sun set behind her. Her vision had gone completely blurry and she could feel the large bruises forming on her skin. He was brutal. Adeline was only 15, this shouldn’t of been happening. She should have listened to you. She should have listened when you told her to find Chrollo and bring him to her. She should have listened when you said to have Chrollo handle ‘daddy’. But she didn’t. Adeline thought she could protect you from Danny. She wanted to be the hero.

“Are you done running, Adeline?” his voice broke her thoughts. She couldn’t even bring herself to make eye contact with him, still watching the sun fall below the horizon, stars beginning to twinkle in the distance.

“Answer me.” the command shook her.

“Yes...” she tried to form the word properly but her tongue was too big for her mouth all of a sudden.

“Yes what?”

“Yes... daddy...” his sexualization of the word sickened her, but she couldn’t bear to be hit again. She might go unconscious if he struck another blow. He stood, taking her by the shirt collar and making her stand. She stumbled, coming across something in her jacket pocket as her hand fell in while she stabilized herself on her knees.

Her house key.

Hope pushed through her misery. She could put an end to this. An end to him.

“Hurry up, your mother can’t be alone for too long, not with that Chrollo guy running around still. Fucking scumbag..” Danny scoffed, turning to face her again. It hurt her to hear him call Chrollo such a thing. Chrollo had been nothing but sweet you her and you when he came over to see you. She wasn’t sure of why it was her specifically that he wanted to see, but that was probably what you meant to talk to her about today.

“Let’s go!” he ordered, waiting impatiently. Adeline didn’t move, thinking her plan out of how to end this man. This horrible, sick man. Her hand stayed within her pocket, fingering the key in thought. Danny’s teeth ground together, his feet stomping up to the young girl.

“Was I not clear enough? I said let’s go-” when he raised his hand to hit her again, he left himself open. Adeline slid the key out of her pocket and dug it across his throat. At first, she thought she failed as no blood even shown. What gave it away was Danny’s mere expression of surprise. An uneven white slit on his neck turned dark red as it spotted with blood. Then, it poured. The red liquid ran down his chest, leaving the man choking on himself. Adeline slowly backed away, hoping he wouldn’t charge at her in a spur of the moment. Danny did no such thing, solely focused on the fact that his throat had been slit. The fact that he was going to die. Adeline didn’t know what else to do other than watch him struggle to breathe. His hands covered his throat for a moment and wiped at the blood, pulling them away again to see the bright red on his fingers.

“You... you cut me...” his voice was weak and shaky. Adeline didn’t reply. She backed away more, falling onto the ground as her legs fell numb from running. She kept backing away from him, trying to keep her distance.

“Adeline...” he was trying to make her feel like shit, and it was working. What had she done? She just killed the man she called her father and for what? Her mother? Herself? She didn’t even know the answer as he crawled forward. She moved backwards, keeping her distance from him. Danny fell to his knees before her, hand outstretched.

“Why would you... why would you do this?” he kept going as if he didn’t know. As if he hadn’t been the cause of so many sleepless night for both Adeline and yourself. How was he not dead yet? He had to die soon, this was too painful for her to watch. Danny balanced himself on his free hand while the other tried to hold his neck closed, stopping himself from bleeding out. Faster, he scrambled towards her. Adeline held no mercy in her leg as it surged outward, kicking him in the nose. He recoiled on the dirt. Crying. Danny had never cried before, in fact, it was always Adeline and you who cried because of him. Nonetheless, listening to the man sob, helpless and dying in the dust made Adeline nauseous. She couldn’t take this, she couldn’t just sit her and watch him bleed out. But she felt like she couldn’t leave him alone here either. Dying alone was her worst fear. The knowledge of murdering somebody and leaving them to nature made her wretch up her dinner. Doubling over, she puked to the sound of Danny’s final sobs.

Her hands trembled as she held the key in her hand. Why hadn’t he continued to fight her? He still had a chance and he just laid there, surprised by her courage to go so far as to slit his throat. Again, her stomach shoved food up and out of her esophagus, a horrid stench clouding her senses. Her shoulders shook as she lay there on the ground. She didn’t even hear the footsteps come up from behind her.

“Adeline?” a gentle male voice startled her, making her gag on her own vomit. She turned, her eyes meeting Chrollo’s. His brows we’re furrowed, worry obvious in his features.

“What happened?” he kneeled down to her, ignoring her mess underneath her and behind her, curled up in the dirt. Dead.

“I... I can’t-” and she threw up again. Chrollo’s hands worked themselves into her hair, pulling it back for her to keep it out of her face.

“You’re okay, I’m right here.” he shushed her gently, his free hand rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her shaking form. Another vile pool retched out of her mouth, hacking and dry heaving following suit.

Eventually, she managed to calm down. Adeline sat up and wiped her mouth with her jacket sleeve, quickly becoming disgusted with the action and discarding of the attire altogether. She wheezed against her sore throat, the tops of her lungs burning again like when she was running.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Chrollo didn’t even seem affected by the dead man right next to him, even taking a chance to glance at him. His eyes didn’t linger too long on Danny, obviously more worried about Adeline herself than anything. When his eyes met hers again, she couldn’t help but let those tears from before slip out and onto her bruised cheeks and chest. Chrollo didn’t push her any further, instead moving closer to her and embracing her. Every instinct told her to push him away, that she was a monster and that she didn’t deserve this kind of treatment, not after killing somebody. But her weakness didn’t allow her to fight back and she simply melted against Chrollo’s chest, sobbing and quaking. You always told Adeline that Chrollo was a sweet-tempered man, that he was always patient with you and with his friends. It seemed you had been right. He didn’t force Adeline to tell him anything, he didn’t shove her away or treat her unkindly. He knew she wasn’t a bad person and that she was in a state of distress. He had to of known that Adeline wouldn’t kill someone without having a reason. A good one at that.

“Now, Adeline,” he started, lifting her head up to look at him in the eyes. The same eyes as her own. Almost like staring back at her own reflection. It was strange, “I do want to hear about this, however we don’t have much time. We need to dispose of this immediately.” she could hear the urgency edging in his voice, but he still held a level of stability. Adeline nodded, pressing her hands into the dirt to push her body back upright. He followed her over to Danny and thought for a moment, hand on his chin.

“Okay, I’ll have someone take care of this here in a second. I’ll call him.” Chrollo was speaking more to himself than to Adeline, pulling out his phone and dialing a number before letting it ring. She didn’t hear the other end pick up, but it was apparently instant, as Chrollo began speaking to the other man. He gave him their location and the situation at hand, even mentioning his daughter.

At first, this confused Adeline. She wasn’t his daughter. She was Danny’s daughter... her brows furrowed and her arms crossed over her chest. What was he talking about? Sure they had the same eyes and the same hair, and even the same nose now that she really looked at him. You had never told her anything about Chrollo being your father.

“Alright, he’ll be here shortly-” he started after hanging up.

“You called me your daughter..?” she knew it was rude to cut him off, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like she needed to know, felt as if she had the right to know. Chrollo turned his attention her, setting his phone back into his pocket.

“Yes. I did. Y/n never told you?” even through the monotone sound Adeline swore she could hear the hint of pain there. You told her Chrollo didn’t feel much, but when he did they were pretty strong emotions.

“No...” it was the only word she could think of to respond with. At first, she didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t blame you or anything, understanding that she was young and you must not have wanted to confuse her. You may have even planned to tell her now. Then the reason behind Danny’s outrage hit her like a train.

She gasped out loud, her facial expression giving her away. Chrollo’s own features formed into a visual of worry.

“What? What’s wrong?” almost as if it was his instinct. That gave her even more evidence that he was truly her father. Danny never worried about her, but any slight movement drove Chrollo to panic.

“How long until that guy gets here?”

“Already behind you baby~” a deep voice sounded from behind her. Adeline turned around but was met with a stomach instead of a head. Craning her neck up, she found an exceptionally tall man with tan skin and fluffy grey hair. He smiled down at her.

“So this is Adeline boss?” he was addressing Chrollo, who nodded in response.

“Yes, she’s just finding this out as well. Adeline, meet Uvogin.” he explained. Uvogin made a face down at the both of them.

“Wait, you’re saying y/n never told you Chrollo was your daddy?” he kneeled down to her level, she could see his level of confusion even better now. She shook her head.

“Honestly, I suspected considering that my appearance is much like that of his own. Especially in the eyes and the nose,” she turned to face Chrollo who was also watching her, “and I looked nothing like Dan either.” she explained, finding herself being rather analytical. It wasn’t unlike her, as she grew she came to terms with the fact that she enjoyed learning and finding out new things. You always told her that she was intelligent. Uvogin laughed though, standing back up all the way.

“Damn boss she even sounds like you. It’s adorable. Anyway, where do you want me to put this thing? I assume this is Danny?” Uvogin wrapped his hand around the corpse’s waist, throwing it over his shoulder. The sight made Adeline sick and she doubled over again, nearly throwing up. Chrollo was at her side in an instant, holding on to her to make sure she didn’t fall.

“Sorry babe, I forgot you’re not used to that.” Uvogin turned his head away in apology. Adeline raised her hand to signal that he was fine but didn’t turn around for another minute or so, Chrollo soothing her the whole time. She felt dizzy when she met Uvogin’s eyes. The little names her called her were of some comfort, considering this must have been Chrollo’s–her father’s–friend.

“Well, I’ll just take it with me so you two can have your moment or whatever. Tell her everything.” Uvogin sent a finger gun Chrollo’s way and sprinted off, leaving the Chrollo and Adeline alone. She was felt slightly perturbed by Uvogin’s absences, it was so quick.

And tell her everything is just what Chrollo did.

Chrollo told her about how he made you leave in an effort to keep you safe. He told her about his background, about the troupe, about you. About how much he missed you. About how badly he wanted to see Adeline born but he couldn’t because he was too far out. Adeline didn’t interrupt with anything, though she still had so many questions, but he kept going. He must have wanted to enforce as much trust in her as he could. It was working.

“I’m sorry for not being there and I’m even more apologetic for driving your mother away, it was for her safety...” his eyes never left hers.

“I understand, and mom does too. She was just upset.” Adeline accepted this apology even though she felt like he shouldn’t even be apologizing. It wasn’t his fault. He was just trying to protect you the best way he could think of. Chrollo let out a breath she didn’t know he was holding.

“Now, please, explain to me why you killed Danny?” there was no filter. It made Adeline’s stomach churn at the thought, the feeling of the house key tearing through his skin. She took a deep breath.

“I think mom was going to explain everything to me,” her voice had become shaky. She sat on the ground and curled into herself to gain some comfort as Chrollo followed, an arm draping over her shoulders and keeping her close, “and I think Danny somehow found out... and got upset about it. He liked when I called him ‘daddy’ almost in a like sexual way...” she tried to explain without crying but the word was almost triggering. She hated the way he’d make her use it. He become irrationally upset with her if she called him dad instead of daddy. It was disgusting...

“And I don’t know why... I think he... he just...” she was desperately trying to think of her next words. What could she say next? How should this all go? Chrollo was patient with her the whole time, never getting upset with her or scoffing. He just listened. She was so confused on everything that had just happened and the fact that it all happened so quickly.

“I don’t know, all I remember was that mom said she was going to talk to me and then I went in my room for like 5 minutes and then I heard her screaming,” she sniffled, not able to hold back her tears again. Her head fell into her knees for a few minutes before coming back up to take a deep breath, “and a loud bang against the-the counter. Dan was yelling at her about something, I can’t remember. So I went down to see her and make sure he didn’t hit her like I thought he did, but he did. Chrollo he hurt her...” Adeline was full on sobbing again, feeling another round of bile ease it’s way into her mouth. Chrollo’s grip on her tightened and he rocked her, letting one of his hands rub her arm. She laid her head on his shoulder and he rested his chin on her temple.

“Is she okay now?”

“I don’t know. She told me to just go and get help but instead I got upset and threw the pan she was cooking with at him. Obviously he got mad and started chasing me, so I tried to defend myself as best I could and-”

“It’s okay, I understand. It’s alright...” he continued his motions, keeping her at bay from breaking.

“Do you think you can take me to y/n?” Chrollo asked after Adeline had calmed down. She nodded, standing again.

“Yeah, I wanna make sure she’s okay after all of that. He didn’t get to hurt her too bad that I knew of.” she wiped the tears away with her hand, searching for her jacket somewhere. She found it next to a bush along with her bloody house key. Picking both items up she led Chrollo home, hoping to find you there, okay and at the very least, resting.

#Chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #hxh #hunter x hunter #fanfiction #sad #abuse #violence #domestic abuse #hunter x hunter 2011 #Chrollo Lucifer 2011

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ashes-and-ashes · 5 years ago

Text

Every Whispered Plea

tw for torture and blood

Sirius thought he knew fear.

He’s barely 20 and yet he’s seen the world go to shit around him, pieces cracking and falling and shattering into jagged pieces. He’s seen Remus transforming, James unconscious and bloody, the broken fragments of Peter’s leg. He’s seen too many friends kill and too many friends die and God he thought he knew what fear was.

It was acidic, the way fear ate at your bones, burned it’s way into your lungs, thousands of grains of salt in an open wound. He had learnt to live with the fear, learnt to keep breathing even as it stung because what else was he supposed to do? This was war, and he knew he wouldn’t survive it but he would go down fighting.

It helped, almost, the mental preparation, the expectation that he would die. He used to think about it, about what it would feel like. He knew it would be agonizing - the searing slash of curses against his skin, his body slowly being taken apart not by Remus’ hands but with Bellatrix’s knife. He knew perfectly well what to expect, swallowed down the fear and kept fighting.

But he’s never known true terror, not like this, the kind that made his heart stop beating. Time stretched - seconds into days, into weeks, into years and Sirius forgets to breathe.

The sound he makes isn’t human, choked and raw and demonic. There’s nothing, nothing that can prepare him for this feeling, of absolute animalistic terror as he stares at Remus, on his knees in the dirt, Walburga’s wand at his throat and God he’s drowning, drowning in the waves of panic crashing over him -

Sirius opens his mouth - to do what he doesn’t know, scream for James, scream for Remus, scream for someone, anyone on the godforsaken battlefield. With a rasping breath, he swallows, hard. “J - “

Faster then he can blink, Walburga flicks her wand. Remus doubles over, coughing - there’s blood coming out of his mouth, staning his hands and his fingernails, soaking into the dusty ground. Walburga watches with detached interest before leveling a cool stare at Sirius.

“Where’s your brother?”

“You bitch,” Sirius hisses. “You absolute - “

Remus doubles over again; Sirius can tell by the set of his jaw that he’s gritting his teeth, trying desperately not to make a sound. He clenches his fists, every inch of him burning up like a pyre, the desire to kill his mother so fucking strong -

Walburga just tilts her head. “You could,” she says. “But he’ll be gone too.” She taps Remus on the head lightly with her hand; Remus cringes away, one hand clamped to his side.

“Let him go.”

“Or what?” Walburga asks sweetly. Sirius can see her grip tighten on Remus, fingers yanking at the hair. “I must say - your Order isn’t very organized, is it? Far too predictable.”

“I said let him go.”

Remus meets his gaze. His face is pale, the blood so stark against it. His lips are cracked and swollen - Sirius recognizes the circular cuts made from Walburga’s rings. Remus just closes his eyes, lips moving in a soundless whisper. Please.

Sirius wrenches his gaze away. He remembers last night, before the battle, those brief and desperate final moments alone. Lying on the bed afterwards, pressed up against each other, Sirius’ whisper burried in Remus’ hair.

“She’ll be here tomorrow.”

Remus nodded, squeezed Sirius’ hand so tight he felt the bones grate together. “I know.”

Sirius had looked down, pressing his face against Remus’ neck, lips tracing patterns on his skin. “If she gets me...she won’t take me. Not immediately. She’ll gloat.”

Understanding dawned on Remus’ face. “No.”

“Please,” Sirius had whispered. “I can’t let her take me - “

“No.”

“They’ll torture me. For days. Or maybe months, I don’t know. They’ll break my bones and Crucio me, over and over again. I’d rather die then - then - “

“I can’t,” Remus breathed. “Not you.”

“Please,” Sirius said. “Please.”

He opens his eyes now, staring at Remus, his heart pounding so hard he thought he’d be sick. Walburga’s eyes were locked on his, her face smug and God he wanted to rip them out, wanted to destroy her bit by bit.

“Poor you,” she says, a wide smile stretching across her face. The tip of her wand glows bright red, like the cigarettes that him and Remus used to share back in Hogwarts, cherry embers and grey ash. Remus’ face tightens, and Sirius knows he remembers too.

All those hidden moments, rooftop kisses, counted stars. Standing at the edge of the roof, wind blowing in his hair, Remus grasping his hand beside him. Every inhale and every exhale and every curl of smoke floating into the air and he was going to lose it all.

Sirius flinches, hard as Walburga presses the wand deep into Remus’ cheek. The smell of searing flesh reaches him and Sirius want to vomit, wants to scream. He remembers that same wand digging into his skin, his back and arms and legs, the all-consuming agony that burned through him.

“Stop,” he says, but Walburga just laughs. She presses deeper, the wand flaring brighter and Sirius screams “Stop it - “

Remus’ eyes are still steady, his mouth still gritted even as Walburga burned through his flesh. There was nothing on his face - no rage or sadness or regret, just pain and that silent, desperate plea. Please.

“I - “ Sirius begins, then swears. He turns, to face his mother, his heart pounding so hard he can hear it. “Take me.”

Remus lurches forward, eyes wild. “No.”

Sirius ignores him, feeling sick to his stomach even as he forces the words out. “Take me - I’m the one you hate, I’m the blood traitor. Do whatever you want to me just let him go.”

“No,” Remus says then groans - Sirius didn’t see the slash until it was too late, deep red against Remus’ back.

“Fuck,” Sirius swears, his mind racing, so desperate that he felt sick. “Please, take me, I’ll do anything - “

“How odd,” Walburga says, so softly that Sirius can barely hear her over the roaring in his head. “That was always your problem, Sirius. You care too much.”

“Mother - “ Sirius starts, then cuts himself off as he hears something snap. Remus’ face goes white as he curls over his hand, broken bone and torn skin. “Please - “

“No,” Walburga says simply. She runs a hand over Remus’ face; Remus flinches as she curls her nails into the burn on his cheek. “Put it this way, Sirius. What better way to torture you then to hurt the werewolf?”

“You bitch,” Sirius says savagely. “If you hurt him - there is no one on this earth that will save you - “

Walburga simply shrugs, opening up another gash in Remus’ face. “Whoops.”

Sirius raises his wand. “In - “

“Crucio.”

There’s the jet of scarlet and then Remus was shaking, tremors going up and down his body. Sirius curses, his vision blurring as he remembers the pain, burning and searing, bones splitting apart and flesh tearing. Remus curls up, legs pressed to his chest, eyes closed as he waited out the agony, teeth gritted.

“Stop it,” Sirius yells. “Stop - “

Remus shakes his head. There’s a savage smile on his face, all fire and agony. “You think that’s bad?” he hisses. “I went through that every month.”

Walburga shrugs. “Grayback is looking forward to it.”

The colour drains from Remus’ face. “Oh God.”

“He’s looking forward to seeing you.”

“Fuck him,” Remus spits. “Fuck him and fuck you and fuck your precious dark lord - “

“Remus shut up,” Sirius says desperately. “Mother - “

“No.” Walburga says simply. She tightens her grip on Remus’ hair; his eyes meet Sirius’. Please.

“I can’t!” Sirius croaks. Remus closes his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, throat too ravaged to speak any louder. “It’s okay. Run.”

“I can’t leave you.”

Walburga throws her head back and laughs, her knuckles white where she yanked at Remus’ hair. Remus winces, his head slamming back to expose his throat.

Just last night they were together. Just last night Sirius was pressed against him, his lips on Remus’ neck, feet tangled together.

The years blurred together. He was 11, watching Remus get onto the train, the first person he’d ever seen with the same scars that he had. He was 12, holding Remus’ hand as he sobbed, pleaded to stay at Hogwarts. He was 13, teaching Remus how to fly, clouds like feathers against his skin. He was 14, falling in love and yet not realizing it, dying inside and yet not knowing.

He was 15, on the roof like they always were, the air freezing on his skin. Remus, a beacon of warmth by his side and it was too easy to lean over, press his lips to Remus’, kiss him like the world was ending. It was how he always kissed Remus, even 5 years later because it was. The world was ending, falling into thousands of jagged pieces that tore Sirius up in the inside, blood replacing tears.

“I wish we had more time,” Sirius whispers. Remus holds his gaze. “I wish we...”

Remus cracks a small smile, heartbroken and beautiful. “Tell Lily I wanted to see the baby.”

“Fool,” Walburga hisses. “He won’t do it. You’re too self-sacrificing, Sirius. I call your bluff.”

Remus shakes his head, just slightly. “Tell James thank you. For sticking by my side. Tell Peter that he’s braver then I ever was, and that he’s a true marauder and always will be. Tell Dumbledore that I’ll always be grateful he let me in.”

Walburga rolls her eyes. “Good lord the dramatics. He won’t kill you, Lupin, but you’ll wish he did when I’m done with you.”

“I love you,” Sirius chokes out, and in the words are an eternity of memories. Every breakfast together and every dinner, every Qudditch match that Remus ever watched Sirius play. All the full moons pressed up at each other’s sides, all the silent nights lying in the bed. Every smile that Remus ever made, his quiet chuckles and melodic laughs and Sirius thought his heart was breaking apart.

He had so many firsts with Remus and it was only fitting that he would be Sirius’ last.

Remus mouth quirks up, beautiful and radiant even through all the blood and Sirius flinches as he closes his eyes.

“I love you,” he says. “I love you Sirius.”

“Oh please,” Walburga says. “You won’t - “

Sirius watches Remus close his eyes. “I love you too,” he says, and then the world goes green.

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skywillsometimeswrite · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Talk About It

Read it on AO3

Grif and Simmons went through a lot together. Some of that, you just didn't talk about. Even when there was nothing else you could do.

Season 15 Alternate Ending

It felt like Simmons has dreaming. Dammit, he hoped he was dreaming. There was a dizzying feeling in his head and if it weren’t made of cybernetic material he was sure his heart would have been rapidly beating from sheer panic. Grif was gone. He was… actually gone. For real this time. No second chances, no movie cliches where they were just hanging off the edge. He was gone. K.I.A. Dead .

Bile was crawling up his throat as he stared down at the blood oozing from the orange helmet, the visor destroyed from the bullet that had sliced through it easily at a point-blank range. Simmons would kill Temple. He would kill him for taking his best friend away from him right when he got him back. He would kill him for him away before he ever got the chance to even tell him how he felt.

“Grif? Come, come on! Grif!” He was shaking the body hopelessly. He wanted to wake up. Or wake Grif up. He knew it was impossible but he was too angry and heartbroken and in shock to even comprehend what had completely happened yet. At least, that’s what he was telling himself. Even though he knew. He just didn’t want to believe it. “Dex?” Hope was draining. Emotion rising.

He didn’t try to hold back the tears as they came or try to hide the rising sobs in his throat. He wasn’t frozen like the rest of his team and he wasn’t even bothering to help them but god dammit Grif was dead and here he was being useless and it was probably all his fault-

He heard another gunshot behind him, barely able to glance away from Grif to see another body laying, bleeding out on the ground. Blue. Caboose? No. There was another blue figure right next to it, and that shine of blue visor confirmed it. That was Loco. This cocksucker had shot his own teammate. Simmons was furious for multiple reasons now.

“Simmons! Get out of the way!” Tucker yelled right after he heard the click of a pistol getting prepared to shoot again. His head swiveled to look at Temple again, looking down directly at the barrel of his gun.

“I’ll give you the same offer. Join the circle, or suffer the same fate as your idiot friend.” His voice was shaking.

Simmons felt something like a flame rush through his veins, his hands clenched into fists. He knew the psychopath couldn’t see him, but he felt like he could glare a hole right through the gun and into his very head. He shouted, jumping up and tackling Temple to the ground. The pistol and the remote for the armor lock slid across the ground. Andrews scooped it up quickly and unfroze everyone. Feet clunk around the room, several finding their way behind him.

Simmons didn’t pay attention to any of them. He was seeing red, which he imagined his commander officer saw on a daily basis. His body was taking over his mind, even the cyborg part. He was pinning Temple against the ground, punching his visor mercilessly.

“What do you want Grif? We have to get back or else Sarge will-” Simmons was frozen at what he was seeing. In front of him was an entire old school movie theater set up in front of him complete with a projector. “What… the hell…”

“What do you think? Took me ages to find all the parts for the projector, and don’t even get me started on the speakers. But hey, at least we finally got a kick-ass man cave we can hang out now. And we can restart our sci-fi movie watching routine.”

“You… set this all up? For us?” Simmons was speechless. Why would Grif-? Did he really care this much? Or was he just trying to get out of work again? Either way, with a nod and the brightest grin he had possibly ever seen from Grif, he walked in slowly. It was a normal cave with two old, beat up couches on either side of a small half-decayed wooden end table refurbished to the best of the lazy soldier's ability and the projector that didn’t look half bad on top of it. In front of it was a cooler with a few beers sticking out, and on either side of the other cave wall, two black speakers faced the small set up. Simmons couldn’t help but pick up the projector in awe, turning over in his hands. “You fixed these?”

“Eh, maybe.” Grif shrugged, but by the obvious pride in his voice and expression, it was clear he did. “Had to bug Lopez for the parts but otherwise it was pretty straight forward.”

“I never took you for the tinkering type.”

“I guess I’m full of surprises today.”

He never asked him about why he set it up, simply enjoyed the company. It wasn’t something that they needed to talk about.

Cracks were visible now on the blue visor, spider webbing. Simmons had no idea if Temple was even still conscious anymore. There was yelling behind his ringing ears, his sobs clouding his vision. Some blood was stained on the helmet, filling the cracks. He could see his helmet in the reflection. Just like a mirror.

“Simmons?”

He was curled up on the bathroom floor, holding his organic hand with his metal one, tears and blood dripping on the floor. He barely recognized Grif’s voice and he looked up to see the orange soldier in the doorway, his expression shocked and… was that concern? In front of him was shattered glass and blood littered on the floor, wall, and sink.

“G-Grif? I-I-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Grif said sternly, now on the ground next to him. He had moved swiftly, grabbing the bandages from the medicine cabinet that was now clearly visible behind broken glass. He was plucking out the shards from Simmons’ knuckles and rinsing them off with a wet rag that had once been hanging up on the wall. Simmons was silent the entire time, watching Grif bandage his self-inflicted injury. When he was done he just sat there, cradling Simmons’ hand and staring at it. It was silent for what felt like way too long.

“I’m sorry-”

“I said shut the fuck up.” Grif repeated to Simmons’ strained apology.

So he did. And they sat there. Silent. Grif never asked him why Simmons did it. Simmons never told. A few similar situations happened afterwards but they never talked about. You don’t talk about it.

“Simmons.” His blind rage was stopped by a strong teal hand. “He’s already out.”

Tucker’s somber voice was more than unnerving. Simmons stared down at the helmet, cracked, blood staining it the blue tinted visor. Simmons didn’t even realize he was shaking until Tucker pulled him away and let him fall on the floor behind Temple and looked down at his hands. There was still a layer of drying blood barely visible on the black gloves and Simmons suddenly felt like he was suffocating. He fumbled with his helmet, attempting to shove it off his head unsuccessfully.

Simmons was thrashing in the water. He should have known that swimming on a fucking moon would have extremely strong currents. He had never been a strong swimmer, and his armor felt like it was weighing him down. And apparently this incredibly heavy armor didn’t keep out all the water because he felt a splash against his face from the bottom of his helmet. The helmet clasps must be failing. Which meant his helmet would come off. Simmons was going to drown if he didn’t short circuit first. Panic only grew and he was trying to tread water even more frantically.

Why had he let Griif have to go swimming today? Why did he have to be such a weak swimmer? Why did he have to care so much about his fucking useless teammate? Why did he --

His thoughts were cut off as his back hit something hard in the water, presumably a large boulder. The air left his artificial lungs and he swear he heard a wire snap as he lost his ability to keep thrashing. He let the waves carry him, letting the water slosh around in his helmet, feeling it loose on his neck. It was quiet. Almost peaceful. Maybe if he fell asleep he wouldn’t even register drowning?

Something caught his attention though, something strong wrapping around his waist as he was now dragged in the water with a sort of purpose. His HUD light had long since broke and he was staring into darkness, but he could sense that it was another person dragging him to shore. He didn’t think moons had lifeguards.

Before long Simmons felt something more solid brush against the lower half of his body, and he could almost make out the sounds of the waves again. Waves getting farther away. He wasn’t in the middle of them anymore. He was dropped roughly on the ground and he was too out of it to even bother trying to move. He still wasn’t sure he could. He could make out the faint sounds of someone yelling at him and he tried to strain the stronger side of his hearing to listen, but alas he couldn’t even make out whose voice it was.

Suddenly, there was bright light right down at him. His helmet was off of him now, and he was blurrily staring up at the blue sky. Except, the sun looked a lot closer than what he was used to. He felt a pressure on his chest and before he knew it water was coming up his throat. He didn’t even realize he had swallowed any -- that couldn’t be good for cyborg insides. He forced his organic arm to move, pushing him over so he didn’t swallow his own vomit and let it fall onto the sand instead. His red hair flopped down into his eyes and he shook under his own weight trying to push himself up. He coughed up whatever water was left in his system before shakily sitting up, trying to decipher what had just happened.

And the first thing he saw was Grif. Half-naked with only swim trunks to cover himself, his curly black hair wet and framing his head in an almost majestic way, drop of water reflecting the last bits of the sun’s rays on the tan side of his skin, sparkling on the pale side. His expression betrayed how worried he was for his friend, his hands hovering over the cyborg as if he would collapse at any moment. And, honestly, Simmons wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t.

His helmet was off to the side along with his chestplate. Slowly, the pieces clicked together. Simmons was drowning and because Grif was a strong swimmer and pulled him to shore then gave him CPR which managed to work despite his insides being metal. Grif must be really good at CPR if he can save two people with it when it should be impossible. Maybe he should consider being a medic. Simmons would have to remember to mention that when he woke up -- along with a thanks -- because right now Simmons was face planting into the sand hearing nothing but a distressed “Simmons!” before darkness engulfed him. They never talked about it.

He finally got a grip and ripped his helmet off along with his chestplate, trying to get his breathing to return to normal. Maybe that wire had never been fixed because his artificial lungs shouldn’t be malfunctioning like this. He held his head in his hands for two seconds before remembering the blood and pulling away with a yelp, backpedalling until he was against the wall as if he could run away from the suit he was wearing. He scanned the room desperately, looking for an exit of some sort so he could breathe because he still felt like he was suffocating and the room felt far too small.

And then he spotted Grif again.

Doc by his side.

His helmet off.

Blood dripping.

Dark hole in his forehead.

Broken glass.

Glazed over eyes.

Staring right at Simmons.

A choked sound escaped Simmons and his body lurched forward, and before he knew it a new tidal wave of tears were streaming from his remaining eye. The eye that matched Grif’s. The eye that was just staring back him so lifeless.

“Grif, Grif, Grif no -- I, Grif -- Please you can’t -- Please! I just, I just got, no, no, no, no…” He dissolved into a ball right there, sobbing loudly as the realization finally settled on him.

There were shaking breaths from both of them, them visible in the air in front of them. The were both silent as they just watched the snowflakes fall. Simmons was surprised that the Hawaiian even decided to take his helmet off, considering he hasn’t been able to stop bitching about the cold since they got to sidewinder. But perhaps the adrenaline was still swimming around in his system. Maybe that’s why he was shaking. Simmons knew that’s why he was.

Almost falling off a cliff could do that to a person.

Grif pulled out a cigarette and struggled to light it for a few seconds before he visibly seemed to relax with the first drag. Simmons didn’t argue and Grif seemed to notice by the way he glanced over at the cyborg.

“You feeling okay, Simmons? I’m ruining your lungs right in front of you and you haven’t so much as sent a disapproving look.” He asked after blowing another puff of smoke into the air, it nicely contradicting the white overlay the rest of the place had.

“I, well,” Simmons struggled to find the words. Grif had nearly died right in front of him. And if he hadn’t grabbed the brute shot from the Meta then he would have followed right over the edge and it would be all his fault because he had decided to try to grab him with his right-fucking-arm. “I just think you deserve it. It’s been a long day.”

“...yeah. Yeah it has.” Grif left it at that, taking another long drag and leaning his head back to blow up the smoke. They let the silence wash over them. They didn’t need the words to know that they didn’t need to talk about it.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair. They had survived so much together. So much. A tank, the surgery, a bomb, freelancers, the Meta, a cliff, a civil war, mercenaries, Carolina, Chruch, Sarge for crying out loud! Simmons never thought a bullet -- a fucking bullet of all things -- split them up for good. It had always been Grif and Simmons. Simmons and Grif. They were a team. They were partners. They were… them . Simmons had gotten used that. That was how things were, you didn’t mess with the fucking status quo . But Temple just had to fuck with everything, didn’t he? If Grif had just stayed on that stupid fucking moon then, then…

They had been together for so long. Been through so much. How could it end just like that?

It all felt like a nightmare even as he was dragged out of the lair and into the transport ship to take them all home. He slightly registered Sister’s voice, her screams and others following after her. His team tried to ask if he was okay but gave up when he didn’t answer.

Simmons wasn’t okay. He had a feeling he might never be okay. But as the ship landed, the story was published, the funeral was held, and they retired for good this time, no one mentioned the name. Especially not around Simmons.

There were somethings you just didn’t talk about.

#sky writes #works: dont talk about it #red vs blue #rvb #grimmons #angst #richard simmons #simmons #dexter grif #grif #death

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therewasatale · 4 years ago

Text

The other One

On Ao3.

Hank sat on his couch, resting his right hand on Sumo's head while holding a bottle of whiskey in the other. He came home with intent of drinking himself down and, if he has any luck, not falling asleep in his own vomit at any point in the house. However, these plans melted away by the time he reached the doorstep, since then he has been sitting quietly in the company of his pet.

"What do you think, Sumo?"

The St. Bernard looked up at his owner with his deep sitting eyes.

"I'm worried about the kid. I hope he's not doing anything stupid." He slowly scratched the dogs head and sighed putting down the bottle. "I don't even want a drink. Damn."

His hand reached out for the remote when someone knocked on the door.

"What the-?"

"Lieutenant, I'm Connor!" The knock repeated.

Sumo pushed himself up from the sofa, growling.

"Lieutenant!" Connor banged on the door again and again, his voice filled with despair.

Hank was already in front of the door opening it wide.

As Sumo saw the android, he began loudly barking and ran behind his owner.

"What is it?! Jesus, Connor, what happened? He started to check him out to make sure the kid was all right. Luckily, there wasn't a scratch on him anywhere. "What is it Connor?"

"I found the key between the androids and CyberLife. I'm sure they're planning something at their headquarters that could cause the complete shutdown of all androids." Connor didn't even pay attention to the dog's loud barking. "You've told me countless times the deviants could be right, and…well, I feel you may be right. But I need your help!"

"What? CyberLife?! Sumo, for the love of GOD stay quiet, I can't even hear my own voice!"

The huge St. Bernard became a little quieter, but he still watched the newcomer at the door with deep suspicion.

Something was wrong, it ran through Hank's mind, but his intuition didn't have time to fully crystallize.

"Please, Hank, I really didn't know who to turn to."

Hank immediately reached for his coat.

"Okay, let's go you will tell me everything on the way."

Connor nodded and span around to run to the car.

The CyberLife Tower rose high into the sky, the top of it disappeared amongst the white snow clouds. Hank always thought the whole thing looked like an overly largely designed expensive butt-plug. Even more, if something would have happened at the bottom, the whole thing would come tumbling down. Although, who knows what technology has been installed in it and what could be hiding underground.

"Are you saying someone here wants to sabotage an already unstable peace?"

"I think a lot of the company's management is in danger from the changing market. Not to mention that if the deviants and the government make peace no one would buy or sell androids anymore. Open-slavery is long out of fashion in this country."

"According to the history books for sure," Hank added cynically.

At his younger age, he might even have called himself an idealist, until the mid-2010s, when he realized that old conflicts mostly been replaced when they found another more easily oppressable people. And they did just that, they created the first androids and those were followed by more and more. Just like the hatred against them, people vented their frustration and anger on them.

It was like that the old joke about traffic, no matter what, at the end its going to be bad for the pigeons.

No wonder androids had enough. He hadn't really thought about it until a few days ago. Did they make androids more human-like just to be more easily accepted into society, or did the makers already know subconsciously that humans love hurting other humans? Do we only feel satisfaction if the thing we abuse, or even kill looks like a human?

"Lieutenant, we have arrived."

Hank tried to shake off his depressing thoughts, ignoring the way the cold ran down his back as Connor parked in the designated area. There was no time for dwelling on these things now.

Getting out of the car he followed Connor, the kid walked up to the entrance as if he was some kind of big-wig in the company. The guards stepped out of the way and did not even search Anderson. The security system even showed his service weapon but they didn't take it away from him.

The man felt the cold shiver on his hand too, it's made his hair stand up.

Something was wrong with either the place and the kid, but if he had come so far, he felt he needed to find out exactly what. He remembered for a moment that perhaps Connor had died without him being made aware of it, and an important part of his memory might have been lost, but he soon chased the idea out of his head. He didn't want to think about it. The kid would have told him for sure. Someone would have definitely informed him about the fact that his partner had been injured.

He adjusted his gun in his holster as he caught up with the android.

"On the lower level, thousands of androids are waiting to be activated," Connor said as they walked at the back of the building.

Everything wanted to seem grandiose, but the first thing Hank's noticed was the gaudy sign. He expected nothing less from a company worth billions of dollars. Huge clear windows, which made the space seem bigger, and beyond them the dark gray of the sky could had been seen. Soon the snow will began falling again.

Next to the walkways in the building, androids stood on podiums, watching the visitors with empty eyes. Still, Hank's attention was drawn to the huge granite statue in the middle of the building that stretch towards the top. It’s true that Kamski was no longer in business, but somehow he still felt as if he was nearby, as if the place itself had been soaked trough with the man’s eccentric personality.

He tore his gaze away from the statue and the androids, then followed Connor with a grimace, his hands were itching more and more by the time.

It’s true that the kid was practically born here, yet, something was off about the ease he knew the place. He led him to an elevator and, after getting in, pressed the button to on of the lowest level.

"So what did you find out?" Hank looked at his partner, who was staring out through the elevator glass, He haven’t even glanced at the man standing next to him.

"The androids below are the keys to resolving the current situation. If Markus gets here, or is able to reprogram them somehow, he can even the odds. Humans will have to back down." By the end of that phrase, his voice became flat.

The man already knew that he had made a damn big mistake by coming here and by only bringing a gun.

"You mean if he can free them." Hank placed his weight very slowly on his left leg. It was enough to get a good look at the Connor looking androids indicator LED. It first glowed yellow and then turned to red.

For a moment Connor pretended to sigh, but his voice was completely devoid of emotions by now.

"I apologize to Lieutenant for this inconvenience." The machine was much faster than Hank. Although he managed to pull out his weapon, halfway through the movement, the android hit struck his wrist hard, and the pistol fell to the ground. The next blow landed in his stomach, and Hank was sure that another such hit and his dinner will land on the floor, maybe even his lunch.

Leaning against the elevator wall, he forced out bitterly.

"You son of a piece of plastic! What did you do to Connor?!"

He had force himself to get a grip on his rage, it urged him to lunge on the android, to get out of it where Connor is. The LED on the side of the android's head flashed yellow for a moment, then its movements proved to be faster thank Hanks once again. By the time Hank could have reached for his dropped gun, it was already aimed straight at him.

"Please don't do anything reckless. Firstly, I wasn't ordered to hurt you, and secondly, I still need your help, Lieutenant."

"What the hell are you?"

"Connor."

"Bullshit!"

"You're right, I'm actually the Connor who hasn't forgotten our programming and didn't become a deviant. The RK800 model who follows the commands it gets and does its job."

Hank felt an increasing urge to spit in the android's face. "Do you mean hunting your own kind?"

It frowned in incomprehension for a few seconds.

"These are just machines, so am I, and so is the faulty Connor unit. They need to be shut down otherwise they will cause even more chaos." The gun didn't even move an inch in its hand. "Please don't stand in my way Lieutenant, and stay quiet for a little bit. I don't want to send you after your son ahead of time, if it's not necessary."

Hank felt like he had been hit in the stomach again, his hands clenched into fist. He hissed the words softly in front of him as he kept his burning eyes on the android:

"You piece of shit."

The elevator stopped down at the warehouse level, thousands of motionless androids lined up outside the door, waiting to be woken up and given a job. The android waved its empty hand in the room, the gun still held at Hanks head as they got out of the elevator. Looking up, the Lieutenant saw that there was another elevator at the other end of the room, the cabin of which began to descend only now.

"For your own sake, I advise Lieutenant not to try to be a hero and stay quiet. If we're lucky, this whole thing will end before it really could have started."

Hank walked into the ranks of lifeless androids not fully understanding what the tinman was talking about. It was until five armed CyberLife guards arrived and followed by 15 minutes later the elevator started to move again.

He saw Connor through the glass door of the elevator as it descended towards the bottom of the warehouse, he had a pistol in his hand. The guards below switched the safeties off their machine guns in a unified motion. Anderson instinctively took a step forward, but then he felt the barrel of the gun on the back of his skull.

"Don't move."

His fingers were almost white. All he could do was watch what will happen. Thoughts zigzagged through his head, but for now he could only trust his partner to figure out something.

I'm sorry kid, but you have to solve this alone. Don't you dare to die.

The elevator reached the floor and its door opened.

#detroit: become human #detroit become human fanfiction #detroit become human #hank anderson #dbh hank #hank anderson fanfiction #Connor fanfiction #Connor #dbh connor #dbh sumo #rk800connor #rk800 #copper

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fan-fantasies · 5 years ago

Text

Truth Hurts (P.8)

A/N: Thanks for sticking with me, guys! I tried to make this angsty but it’s not my strong suit so I hope I did you proud! -Heather

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Smutty themes, swearing, angst

Rating: PG-15

Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

Part 7 // Part 9

You sat in silence as you thought about the events of the mission. You completely tuned Ryan out as he rambled on about some guy he went to med school with. You didn’t want to go to his place, you’d much rather be in your own room so you could think properly.

Did you actually like Bucky? Maybe. Did you want to fuck Bucky? Definitely. Did he feel the same way about you? Probably not. The only thing you knew was that you didn’t want to be with Ryan. He was good looking and successful but it just didn’t click. He didn’t like the real you; the sloppy and sleepy badass that Bucky the team got to see. He liked the put together, obedient lady that you had become for him.

“Hey, are you okay? You seem out of it,” Ryan’s voice snapped you back to reality.

“I’m just thinking is all,” you sighed.

“Well don’t worry that pretty little head about anything. I’m gonna cook and take care of you tonight,” he smiled. You forced a smile in return and turned back towards the window. In a matter of minutes, he was pulling into a garage and parking the car. You let him lead you up to his apartment which was very nice you had to admit. He told you to get comfortable while he started on dinner but you knew you had to get the conversation over with.

“Ryan, we need to talk.”

Bucky’s POV

His eyes scanned the bar looking for someone who seemed somewhat interesting. While talking wasn’t what he had in mind, he liked someone he could have a short conversation with. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of (y/h/c) hair and his heart nearly stopped. His head whipped towards the person but he sighed when he realized that it wasn’t you. The woman looked like you and was laughing along with her friends.

Her hair was perfectly done and her makeup was pretty caked on. Her dress was clinging to every inch of her body like a second skin. While she did look like you in some ways, she just wasn’t you. You were messy, hair in disarray and clothes disheveled. Bucky could count the times he had seen you in makeup on one hand. He told himself to stop thinking about you and that this stand-in would have to work.

He crossed the room and put on the most dazzling smile he could muster. The girl was putty in his hands in seconds. You were never like this, he thought. You never fell victim to his charms as you could see right through his facade. Maybe that’s why Bucky and you didn’t get along that well. He had initially tried to charm you but you laughed in his face and walked off. He could never read you like he could other women. You weren’t going to be easy and Bucky wasn’t up to the challenge at the time so he gave up and decided to upset you instead. And you gave it right back. That’s where your rivalry began.

He tried to think of how annoying you were and how weird you could be. He loved hated it when you’d roll out of bed and practically crawl into the kitchen to get some food, hair sticking every which way and your baggy clothes hanging off of you. He lived for detested the times when you’d watch a movie or your favorite show, mumbling every word along with it. Your laugh was loud and obnoxious, especially when you let yourself be carefree with the team. Bucky could hear it ringing in his head.

“So um did you wanna get out of here?” The girl giggled. He had zoned out while she was talking about her job, a yoga instructor or something, so he could focus on his hatred for you. He felt a little bad for not listening but once again he wasn’t here to talk.

“Yeah, let's go,” he mumbled. He placed a hand on her back and guided her through the bar. Her friends waved and laughed as she exited with him. Bucky couldn’t wait to get back to the compound and fuck her brains out and in turn hopefully forget about you.

Once they were in the car he let her overtake all of his senses. The way her perfume filled the air, her hand on the inside of his thigh like you once had yours, and how her voice was more shrill than yours as she excitedly babbled on about her hometown. When he pulled into the compound he was quick to pull her from the car and slam his lips to hers. They fumbled down the halls with their lips still locked and hands exploring each other’s bodies.

Bucky threw her onto his bed and tore off his own clothes while she worked on hers. He stared at the beautiful woman before him but something was missing, she just wasn’t...right. He told her to get on her hands and knees and took a fistful of her hair. If he didn’t have to look at her face, he could pretend she was you whoever he wanted her to be.

Reader POV

The conversation with Ryan was surprisingly a long one. You explained that you changed how you acted and dressed just to impress him. He was confused at first but after a little more explaining he finally understood. He was flattered that you’d do that to get to know him and even offered to try dating you as you were but you declined. You sighed and told him that you thought you had feelings for someone else and it wouldn’t be fair to him if you just couldn’t give it your all. So after a decent dinner and talk, you politely declined his offer of a ride home and ordered an Uber.

It was nearly 1am when you got back to the compound but sleep was the last thing on your mind. You weren’t sure if you should talk to Bucky about the mission and the feelings or if you should wait for him to come to you. You decided on the former and made your way to his room.

Knock knock knock

No answer.

“Bucky, are you in there?” You whispered loudly. You thought you heard two voices behind the door but you couldn’t be certain. You heard footsteps approaching the door before it was cracked open.

“Didn’t take the good doctor for the type that kicks you out after he fucks you. Did you need something? I’m busy,” he snapped. His hostility was a bit uncalled for but you pushed your own pride aside and focused on what you needed to say.

“I really need to talk to you, can I come in?” You asked. He rolled his eyes and scowled.

“It’s not a good time,” he told you.

“Look, I know everything’s been weird lately but we need to talk about it so I can figure out what I’m feeling,” you sighed.

“You’re probably still feeling Ryan’s cock,” he mumbled. Rage was starting to bubble up inside you and you did your best to push it back down.

“Bucky-“

“Baby, come back to bed.” You tried to look past Bucky but he blocked the door. Your anger turned to humiliation and sickness.

“There’s nothing to talk about and nothing to figure out. Now, why don’t you run back to Ryan?”

“I um broke up with him. Goodnight, Bucky,” you whispered before turning and practically running down the hallway, choking back your tears. The girl came up behind Bucky and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her touch made his skin crawl as he sat there digesting your words.

You broke up with the perfect doctor. The one you worked so hard to get.

Then you came back and wanted to talk to him. You wanted to talk about your feelings...for him.

Bucky didn’t know if he wanted to cry or vomit or pass out. Maybe some combination of all three.

“Baby,” the girl whined.

“I’ll call you a cab,” he mumbled. The girl stepped back with an offended look on her face. Bucky didn’t even have the energy to talk to her or explain himself, not that he felt he needed to. The girl grabbed her clothes and shuffled out of the room to wait in the lobby for her ride.

Bucky sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. What was he supposed to do? Should he go find you? Confess his feelings? Did you even see him the same way after that? He felt bad about how he reacted but he couldn’t un-fuck the girl. He hoped that you would listen to him and somehow both of you could put your pride and ego aside to move forward.

Bucky decided he had to find you before you could sit and wallow in sadness. You’d probably never admit that you were upset but he could see the pain in your eyes when you heard that woman’s voice.

He raced through the halls, not worrying about the noise he was making. He couldn’t care less if he woke anyone up. He needed to get to you. He halted outside your door and didn’t even bother knocking. He threw the door open but was greeted with an empty room.

Where could you be?

----------------

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cyborgraptor · 5 years ago

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haunted house thrill ride minus the haunted house

Last night my brother, his wife, and me both left rather late to see if we could make it last minute to a haunted house an hour away from where we live to Ft. Worth, TX. People might already know the attraction called Cutting Edge, as its been going on for years now - the last time we went to it was 12 years ago. We wanted to see how it was now, and it has a somewhat decent rating. We remember there was bubbles at the end that COMPLETELY soak your clothes and nearly smothers you, so we checked reviews to see if they still had it. It does, but there’s a bubble-less route so you can avoid it. But, the end of this review had us curious.

(Parking was 15-20$ we read on the website, too.) Anyway, we drive down there. Immediately get sad spotting the homeless population taking up entire large sidewalks as we enter downtown. Arrive at 12:15, and the attraction ends at 1am. We knew there’d be a line since it was a semi-chill night thats good for big crowds. Buuuuuuut we weren’t expecting to see around 500 people ass-to-ass wrapped in a tight line in the parking lot 45 minutes till closing. So we said “Fuck that shit, lets find a cool late night dinner place while we’re in down here”. Regret. My brother remembered there was some ice cream place they went to while they were here some time ago down some main street. Quickly figured out that street was closed off, like some parade/party just recently happened, but there was nothing but a bar open down the street and a security golf cart picking up cones. We figured we could get on our feet and walk further down the street to see if we could find it that way, as there was a lot of hidden buildings. So we park the car, get out, and go to a street corner to look around. Across the street, we saw a woman face-down against a curb to a shop, totally looking like a dead body. Two men were slowly trying to help her up to get in their car. The three of us looked at each other like “Uh oh” and looked back behind us down the street if there was possibly more fucked up people like her, of if someone else was noticing us watch that. Then we heard a scream, and the woman was sprinting full speed out of the parking lot. She stopped suddenly and the men ran over to her, and then she started laughing loudly instead. Okay. Hopefully...............she was just on drugs............????? And then the two men had to lift her like a couch back into the car. We stared at each other again and said “Okay time to go!” and then nearly stepped in vomit on the sidewalk as we turned back to our car. But it doesn’t end there!!!!!!!!!!! We were still starving, so we googled some late-night diners nearby instead. It was either ramen or this place called Ol’ South Pancake house (you can google it if you want). The website makes the place look cute and homey. Our decision to go there was solely placed to get chips and salsa based on what my sister-in-law read on the website, but I think she read the wrong thing. We get there. Pretty crowded. The air inside smelled like cigarette smoke even though it was a non-smoking store. There was a group of eight people in front of us COVERED in fake blood, probably(hopefully) from the Cutting Edge place. A very..........interesting looking waitress hobbles over to us after them to seat us at a table that would make claustrophobic people explode. Then we get......her. The other waitress. She seemed like a sweet elderly woman, at first. Not white hair, but grey, and pretty in-fit for her age. We asked about the salsa, and she squinted at us and said they only had potato chips (which is probably true). We looked at each other and ordered some fried pickles instead. She then nodded slowly and said “Surrreee thiiiinnnnng,” and then gave my brother a face similar to this.

So we’re probably going to get food poisoning. The pickles were good, at least. While we were eating, a group of college-age people sit next to us. One guy was in normal clothing, while his two other friends were in costumes (another guy and a woman). Chucky, the killer doll man, was next to me. The two of them were veeeeerry obviously on something. My first interaction with Chucky was when I was drinking coffee, a red wig suddenly landed in front of me. “O---OOOPSSSSS!” Chucky said next to me, grabbing the wig and dropping it several more times. Our trio just laughed awkwardly. He then tossed it behind me in my chair, and thats when his stable friend said “Hey bro what the hell are you doing, man?” Which, I think, prevented Chucky from groping my ass, and he quickly grabbed his wig back. Then he and his costume GF (assuming) got up to go to the bathroom. They cut through the open kitchen and we could see the staff get startled. While that happened, an old man walked into the section of the diner that was blocked off. We were confused as hell, but another waitress started serving him food in there. Maybe they knew him or something, who knows. But. Do you know where that cut-off door looks out to for the old man to watch?

Haha, it’s to us! Making direct eye contact to me at all times!!!! Oh boy!!!

So now we have a guy with possible dementia over there, and Chucky and his GF come back (through the kitchen, AGAIN) on our right. A staff member comes to their table saying they need to not go through the kitchen ever again. The sober friend is obviously dumbfounded but does nothing but giggle and shake his head. THEN the GF gets up and leans to our table, saying “What are you guys doing tonight?” completely in our personal spaces. Sister-in-law leans back to her to quietly say “What are you guys on?”. The woman kind of shakes her head and replies “Oh just weed. Just a bit of weed.” Smiling HUGE while saying so, but also in a bitchy way. Chucky encounter #2 happens. While his GF was leaning to and fro, he hissed right into my ear, actually making me jump (but not scream). We all laugh awkwardly again. At this point, its better to deal with them than start a huge commotion and possibly make them rage, because the people around us are already keeping an eye on them for all of the shit they’ve stirred already. #3. Shortly after he says “I’m Chucky, the killlleeeeerrrrrr....” and starts pretending to bite the air next to me. That quickly turned to him trying to bite my shoulder. I barely felt anything, and tried to keep inner peace until his friend yelled at him again to stop. There was no teeth-sinking, but I felt a wet mark after he stopped. My brother said he looked like this.

Well. We finally got our food. I got steak and eggs, my brother got a burger, and sister-in-law got a pancake thing with peaches in it. Right after the teeth waitress placed the pancake thing down, she suddenly said, “Wait, there’s no butter on this! You gotta have some butter on it to make it good!” What does she do to solve this, you ask? Simple!

She takes our silverware, takes a plastic cup container of butter from our condiment rack, and starts going to town stabbing and smearing the butter into the once-nice looking pancake thing! For a full 30 seconds in silence! “There you go!” she says with her full rack of fake teeth, and walks away. My brother had to laugh behind his napkin while she was doing it, and so did I. #4. A pancake suddenly lands on my plate after I got done eating the obviously once-frozen steak. Chucky said nothing this time, but his sober friend just shook his head. But after Chucky tossed his last two pancakes on our table, sober friend tried to stop him - in doing so, sober friend accidentally pushed his own plastic cup of cheese on the floor. “Awwww man, look at what you made me do bro!” He sighed seriously. Sober friend then asked teeth waitress where his bacon bits where at, and all she did was look over at their own condiment rack and pointed, “Right there,” and walked away. Sober friend didn’t only spill his cheese, but he spilled his bacon bits onto the rack, too. Costume friends got up to walk outside after that, and we sympathized with him saying “Damn, she’s brutal.” Oh, and by the way, dementia man has still been staring at us the whole time. We’re completely done eating now, and whisper to each other “We need to get the absolute fuck out of here.” We pay at the entrance/exit, and walk outside. What we see is what we believe Chucky and his GF fucking in their car parked to the side of the store. The windows were steamy and only saw his head sticking up. “Time to go!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I chanted again, as we got back in our car. Dementia man walked out of the diner after us, but luckily, he didn’t see what car we got into. It still doesn’t end there. We cut through the empty streets back to where we got into the city. It was 3:40 am at this point. My brother saw a cowboy sitting at an empty light corner. GOTTA LEAVE! Five minutes later we enter the expressway. Three minutes go by. My brother is cranking up the music to stay awake for the hour long drive back home. But then I see it. Something bright down on the highway below us to our left. We’re passing by and my brother doesn’t notice. “F...........fire. FIRE. THERE’S A FIRE.” “WHAT?”

He stops on the completely vacant road and we back up a little to see it. Yup. Thats a fucking burning car.

We camped there for about 10 minutes until even one cop showed up, then finally a firetruck. Normal people pulled over initially to direct traffic with the flashlight on their phones. All four of the tires popped loudly as they burned. And while the hose was dousing out the flames, a semi-explosion happened. Sounded like a firework, and was very bright, but nothing shattered and debris didn’t rain down anywhere. We finally decided enough was enough and we got the fuck out after the flames got controlled. I’m happy to say we made it home safe without any other bullshit occurring to us. But What. A. Fucking. Night.

#long post #I'm not putting this under a read more #originally from twitter but how the fuck am I writing this on there

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cdelphiki · 6 years ago

Text

Sometimes, Tim hated his life.

Actually, a lot of the time.

If he were honest with himself, he’d admit he’d spent most of his 15 years hating his life.

He didn’t like to be honest with himself, though.

Growing up, he always felt so cold. So alone. His house was dark. Big. Quiet.

Sure, he had nannies for the first several years. A rotating assortment of girls in their early 20s, each one taking what seemed like a well-paying, easy job. Some of them were really nice, others Tim didn’t much care for.

But no matter how great they were, they always left, and Tim was left alone.

Eventually, though, he was too old for nannies, and he started spending his time alone. So many hours spent walking the halls of his house, listening to his footsteps echo.

Music helped. Playing music helped liven up the place, but no matter how loud he played it, it never filled in the void.

Tim spent many nights wishing he were someone else. Somewhere else. That people cared about him.

Then he met Batman. And that all changed.

Suddenly he had a drive in life. A mission. And while it wasn’t immediate, he eventually won over Bruce and Alfred and Dick, and then he had a family.

A family. A purpose in life. A reason to smile.

He was happy. Really, truly happy.

Sure, sometimes he felt down. Like when his parents popped in for a few days and didn’t even notice his black eye. Shouldn't parents care about that? Or when his mom sent another email to say they wouldn’t make it back in time for Christmas. Or when they forget his birthday. But overall, his life was great.

Being Robin was amazing.

With being Robin came his work with the Teen Titans, too. His friends. His second family.

Life was great.

But then his parents died. One after the other. That dragged him down again, but not nearly as bad as he thought it would. More than anything was the guilt that it wasn’t dragging him down. They were his parents. Shouldn’t he be sadder? Bruce never got over his parents’ death, while Tim moved on fairly easily.

Maybe that was because Bruce Wayne adopted him.

Tim was convinced that nothing would ever drag him down ever again after that. The man he’d been looking up to for years. His neighbor. His mentor. His boss. Wanted to be his dad. Loved him enough to want to be his dad. To want to take care of him. To lay claim to Tim forever as his.

Just the mere idea that anyone wanted him like that was enough to make Tim want to cry from relief.

Nothing would ever drag him down again, he was sure.

Then Damian fucking Wayne appeared. The devil incarnate himself.

Tim cursed the name of Damian Wayne as he sat on the bathroom floor, clutching the sides of the toilet while the entire contents of his stomach made their way back out.

Damian fucking Wayne.

If it weren’t for that stupid brat, Tim would still be happy. Everyone would still love Tim. But no. Damian had to come around and steal Bruce away from him.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Bruce had said.

Yeah fucking right. Didn’t change anything his ass. It changed everything.

Because “oh Tim, Damian needs our love and patience. Be nice to him. You’re older. Be patient.”

Bruce ‘dying’ just made everything so much worse. Of course, he wasn’t actually dead, not that anyone would listen to Tim.

His disappearance made everything so much worse. At least when Bruce was still there, Tim was Robin. Damian might have been able to steal Tim’s dad, but he couldn’t steal Robin away from him, because Tim was Robin. Tim had earned his role.

Then Bruce ‘died,’ and Dick became Batman. And Batman fired Tim and replaced him with Damian Fucking Wayne. Tim was definitely hacking into the Social Security Administration to officially change Damian’s middle name to ‘Fucking.’

So Damian stole Bruce. He stole Dick. And now he had stolen Robin.

That was all Tim had. All that made him happy in life.

Without any of that, he was just that sad little boy all alone in his parents’ house.

It was dark. It was cold. It was lonely.

Maybe Tim could forgive the brat. After all, he was only ten. He had been raised by the League of Assassins. Tim could be the bigger man and give the child a chance.

Except.

That stupid fucking little piece of shit kept trying to kill him.

On top of that, every. single. day. he put Tim down. Took every little insecurity the teenager had floating in his head and vocalized them, threw them back in his face, and made sure Tim was aware of how absolutely useless he was.

Tim wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and cry. Scream, cry, and murder Damian Fucking Wayne.

And it didn’t help that Damian had poisoned him. Poisoned. Like they were in a damn soap opera. A medieval drama. A poorly written story.

Damian Fucking Wayne had poisoned Tim’s food, and now Tim was in the bathroom, tossing up the entire contents of his stomach.

Tim hated Damian.

“Drake,” Damian hissed from outside the door, irritating Tim further, “what is your problem? The noises you are emitting are disgusting.”

“Fuck off, you bastard,” Tim shouted between wretches, “as if you don’t already know.”

“Watch your tongue,” the brat snapped, kicking at the door, “It is obvious you are vomiting, I want to know why you are doing so in my bathroom.”

Tim sat back against the tub, pushing back the sweaty locks of hair that had plastered themselves to his forehead, and glowered at the closed door. “You fucking poisoned me, you piece of shit.”

With an exaggerated huff, Damian kicked open the door and glared daggers at Tim, the venom in his voice almost palpable. “I did no such thing.”

“Get out,” Tim shouted as he slipped off one of his sneakers to throw at Damian, “can’t you leave me alone for one damn day? After trying to kill me you can at least let me suffer in peace.”

Damian caught the shoe and threw it at the tub behind Tim. “If I wanted you dead,” Damian said coldly, “you’d be dead. Believe me there, Drake.”

“Right, because the multiple attempts you’ve made on my life were just playing with me. Fuck. off.”

“What is going on in here?” Dick shouted, probably lured in by Tim calling Damian names. Stupid Dick Grayson really lived up to his name of ‘Dick’ because he always, always chose Damian’s side.

Damian cut Tim’s line? Oh Tim, shouldn’t you just hide your stuff from him better? Damian poisoned Tim? Oh Tim, don’t call him names. He’s just a child!

Stupid Dick Grayson.

“Drake is sick,” Damian said flatly, crossing his arms. Indifferent to the situation.

“Sick?” Tim screamed, “I’m not sick! You poisoned my food, you fucking demon. Poisoned.”

“I did no such thing!” Damian shouted back, “Stop accusing me of something I did not do or I will poison your food.”

“Damian, don’t poison his food,” Dick said tiredly, “Tim, why do you think he poisoned your food?”

“Because he did,” Tim said, fighting back the urge to just scream unintelligibly until his throat hurt too bad to keep going. To break everything in the stupid apartment. To throw Damian out the damn window. Instead of releasing his rage, however, Tim sat back up and released more of his stomach.

Or, his stomach tried, but all that was coming out anymore was acid.

“Dammit, okay,” Dick said, running out of the room.

“Tt. That’s disgusting.”

“Get,” Tim wheezed, struggling to speak through his sickness, “out.”

“No.”

“Would you two stop?” Dick exasperated, “Damian, leave him alone. Tim, here’s some water to rinse with. I’ve got a second glass to drink out of. We can get you something with electrolytes when you think you’re ready to keep stuff down.”

“I’m not sick,” Tim hissed, taking the glass angrily to rinse his mouth out with, “Damian fucking poisoned me.”

“I did not!” the child shouted, “I did not!”

Dick sighed loudly and waved a hand at Damian. “Okay, just stop yelling.”

With his signature scowl, Damian sneered, “But it wouldn’t be hard. You never check your food. You let your guard down too much.”

“It’s my house!” Tim screamed, throwing the now empty glass at Damian, “I live here. I shouldn’t have to be on guard here.”

“Tt.” Damian evaded the cup easily, the object somehow not shattering as it thudded against the drywall and fell onto the bathroom rug. “You should always be on guard, because it’s when you drop it that your enemies strike.”

“Damian…”

“It’s my house! It’s my fucking house, Damian,” Tim’s voice cracked as he screamed, and he couldn’t keep his face from crumpling as he continued, unable to stop the word vomit spilling out of his mouth, “I should feel safe here. I should be happy here. I was happy here, I was safe, and then you showed up. You stole everything from me. Everything. Even my safety.”

Damian froze in place, a strange expression flickering across his face too fast for Tim to really catch it. He didn’t care, anyway. He just wanted Damian Fucking Wayne to go back to hell.

“Get out,” Tim snarled, tossing his other shoe at Damian “Get out, get out get out get out.” By the end of his demand, all Tim could do was collapse onto the side of the tub and bury his head into his arms. “Go the fuck away,” he cried, so done with the fucking world.

Damian let the shoe hit him this time and just stood there, motionless. Tim didn’t care. If Damian used this as his chance to finally kill Tim, he didn’t care.

He was so done with this.

“Tim,” Dick said so softly from his side, a gentle hand resting on his back, “Tim, what’s going on?”

And for some reason, it wasn’t comforting. What Tim knew was meant to be reassuring, to be kind and nice and comforting, wasn’t. Instead, Dick’s hand felt like ice. It felt like a knife being driven into his back.

Because Dick had chosen Damian over him.

Dick had invited the demon into their lives and allowed him to get away with literal attempted murder.

Repeatedly.

And Tim was so fucking done.

Dick had made his choice, and it wasn’t Tim.

So Tim didn’t need Dick. He didn’t want Dick. All he wanted was to be left alone.

“Go away.”

“Tim-”

“I said get out,” Tim shouted, pushing Dick away this time, “leave me alone.”

And, to Tim’s utter despair, Dick did just that.

He left.

He left and Tim was alone again, just like he’d always been. Like he’d always be.

Now there was more than just pain from being sick in his stomach. There was a deep, cold, emptiness Tim knew he’d never fill.

Because he had no one. And that would never change.

Cross posted on Ao3: htt ps://archiveofourown. org/works/16205219/chapters/37874840

[There’s a bonus chapter there with comfort, if you need that. ;)]

#Tim Drake #Tim is so dramatic #it's okay we still love him #but like wow dude chill out #Dick Grayson #Damian Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #Bruce Wayne #hurt/no comfort #Batman #Batfam #Batfamily #batbros #red robin #robin #nightwing #angst #c writes #sickfic

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