#it’s like i found a memory chest in my basement i’m so happy about it

[clockwork-ashes]

Bright Flames, Dark Shadows

Summary: When Eris is injured during what was supposed to be a very simple mission, Azriel knows how to make it better (one-shot). Read below, or on Ao3 :)

Note: I was looking for something else on my computer and I found FICS!!! thank you for reading <3

Azriel had been working with Eris for months. He’d trusted the spoiled prince to get them safely out of harm’s way, and to take them to a secure location. He’d been expecting Eris to winnow them to his personal home, but as they materialized in the unfamiliar space, Azriel realized it was the first time he was seeing the other male’s room. With a small growl, Eris let go of Azriel’s leathers, shoving past him but not touching his wings. Eris barely lifted a finger, the stunning, stone fireplace to his right roaring to life along with the bronze sconces that lined the walls. 

All of Eris’s cottage was elegant, the furniture in it made of expensive carved mahogany that matched the gleaming hardwood floors and sideboards, everything organized, orderly, and tasteful. Eris’s bedroom was much the same. Two comfortable-looking cushioned chairs were placed near the fireplace, a low table between them was covered in multiple neat piles of thick books. His bed was huge, pushed up against the opposite wall, big enough for multiple people to lie in it. The carved pattern on the dresser, mirror, and nightstands was intricate — beautiful. Not knowing what to do with himself, Azriel merely stood where Eris had left him — right in the middle of the bedroom. 

Azriel took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, livid that they’d been caught by surprise but the anger not showing on his face. Some of Azriel’s shadows skittered around him, the rest trailed after Eris as he stumbled to the dresser, knocking into it with his knees so that it hit the wall with an ugly thud. Azriel watched as Eris leaned toward the mirror, wincing as Eris wiped at his mouth with the dark brown sleeve of his well-tailored jacket. 

“What the fuck?” Blood nearly the same colour of Eris’s hair dripped from his nose, leaking down his face, staining the collar of the offwhite shirt that peaked out of Eris’s jacket. Eris tugged open the dresser’s top drawer, all his shirts neatly folded inside, taking one out and holding it up against his face. He turned to face Azriel, his newly cut hair in disarray as he gestured wildly in Azriel’s direction, “Some fucking spymaster.” His voice was muffled by the shirt, but it did nothing to hide his angry tone, “I thought those shadows were useful.” 

Azriel clenched his jaw. For the most part, Eris had been treating Azriel’s shadows like he treated his hounds: with an unexpected softness. The shadows liked brushing up against Eris’s hands as he wrote, or curling up over his shoulders as he read. Azriel had apologized the first few times it had happened, but Eris had assured him that he didn’t mind. He didn’t like the way Eris was talking about them now, though. “They are useful.” 

“They are not.” 

“They were distracted,” Azriel snapped, defending them. 

Eris moved the shirt away from his face, the bleeding seemed to have slowed. He snorted, the sound watery, “By what?” He turned back to the mirror. 

Azriel was moments away from retorting “by you,” but he stopped himself. There must have been a reason his shadows monitored the Autumn Court heir’s every move. Azriel assumed it was because they didn’t trust Eris Vanserra, and he didn’t want to offend one of the Night Court’s most important allies by telling him as much. 

“Give me that pitcher,” Eris demanded. 

Azriel would have ignored him had he not felt slightly responsible for Eris’s current state. It wasn’t that Eris hadn’t been a decent enough fighter, but they both hadn’t been expecting an ambush, and as the more experienced one, Azriel should have kept an eye on him. Azriel handed Eris the pitcher that had been sitting on the nightstand, watching as water sloshed over the edges and onto the dresser as Eris shoved a clean part of the shirt into it before he brought the wet fabric to his face. 

Eris leaned closer to the mirror, nearly knocking over the pitcher, and made a funny noise deep in his throat before he spoke. “Cauldron fucking boil me,” he bemoaned, one of his fingers gingerly touching the tip of his nose. “I think it’s crooked.” 

Azriel rolled his eyes. His nose looked fine, perfect, even. “It is not.” 

Azriel was debating whether or not to sit in one of the chairs when Eris turned an accusatory gaze in his direction, “I blame you for this complete and utter disaster.” 

Azriel blamed himself too. That night was supposed to be nothing more than a routine lookout. If he’d known that Koschei was going to send others after them, he wouldn’t have taken Eris with him in the first place. Azriel would have thought about what it might have meant that he’d wanted to take Eris with him, but Azriel was too focused on the way his shadows seemed to be trying to warn Eris that he’d probably end up making his injuries a lot worse if he didn’t calm down.  

“I wouldn’t do that,” Azriel suggested, his voice smooth. 

Eris paid him no mind, scrubbing a little too aggressively at the blood on his face. Most of it had come off, and his nose had finally stopped bleeding. “Don’t tell me what to do,” Eris muttered, wiping at some of the blood on his neck. 

Azriel regretted that Eris had gotten hit in the face with the pommel of a sword, not really knowing why. He’d spent years fantasizing about doing the very same thing, but spending so much time with Eris had Azriel — and he could barely believe it — liking him. “Vanserra, get on the bed,” Eris straightened, raising his brows, “Let me have a look.” 

“First Cassian, now you. I don’t like being ordered around by overgrown bats.” Despite the statement, Eris made his way to the bed, leaning up against the headboard, boot clad feet on the dark red covers. 

Azriel sat down, sinking into the obviously very expensive mattress. He put out a hand, wiggling his fingers. 

Eris passed him the shirt with a scowl. “Like you’d know how to fix a broken nose. You’re not a fucking healer.”  

Azriel had been spending too much time with the spoiled prince and his nearly infinite amount of patience seemed to be at its end. “Would you just let me look,” he snapped.

Eris was still scowling as Azriel tipped his head back just a bit, cradling Eris’s jaw in one hand, taking in every feature of his face. He was beautiful in an undeniable sort of way, and now that he’d cut his hair, Azriel thought he looked even better. 

Azriel gently wiped at any remaining blood that stained the other male’s skin. Through the thin fabric of the shirt, Azriel could feel the sharp planes of Eris’s face and was reminded of the first time he’d ever seen the Autumn Court prince. He’d thought Eris was classically beautiful in a way that reminded Azriel of broken shards of stained glass. Lovely, yet dangerous. 

Azriel put the ruined shirt on the bed, using the hand that wasn’t holding Eris’s chin to move some of the hair that had fallen over Eris’s brow. His nose wasn’t bleeding anymore, a small cut underneath his eye was already starting to heal, and the bruise on his jaw seemed to be fading. His nose definitely wasn’t crooked, but Azriel ran the tip of his scarred finger along the sloped bridge of it just to make sure.  

Azriel hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to Eris. “I don’t think it’s broken,” he murmured. 

He watched as Eris’s eyes fluttered, “I heard the crunch,” he breathed.

Azriel didn’t know what came over him, in the moment he thought it might have been madness. Eris was one of his oldest enemies, he was cruel, and ruthless, and he deserved only the worst. That was what he’d believed for centuries. He didn’t know what might have possessed him to press his lips to the mean line of Eris’s mouth, but he knew that it felt… right. Eris parted his lips in a shocked gasp, golden flames bright in his wide eyes. 

Azriel was completely out of his mind. He’d never, not once in his entire life, done something without thinking it through. The panic seized him quite suddenly, his wings flaring just a bit as he made to move back, to move away. Azriel was more than just a little surprised when Eris lifted his hand, threading his slender fingers into the dark hair at the base of Azriel’s scalp, pulling him closer in another kiss.  

Azriel kissed Eris harder this time, grabbing the other male’s face in both hands, thumbs sliding against sharp cheekbones, lips moving with the force of weeks’ worth of wanting. Eris’s bottom lip was caught between Azriel’s teeth, his other hand coming up to fist in Azriel’s leathers. Weeks upon weeks of working with Eris, talking to him, trusting him. A helpless sound escaped Eris’s lips when Azriel slowly moved his hands so that his thumbs traced the shape of the smooth, pale, column of Eris’s throat. Azriel had more than a million things to do, but as he opened his mouth, Eris’s tongue pushing against his in a savage claiming, Azriel leaned into him, all those things forgotten. 

Azriel wanted to move so that he was right between Eris’s thighs, to press the other male into the bed, to watch a prince of Autumn come undone. Their kisses were messy, urgent, desperate. Eris pulled him closer, and Azriel thought he could drown in the feel of him, the taste of him. The taste of crackling embers, of rich cognac, of Autumn mornings. 

Azriel’s hands slid down to Eris’s chest, undoing the golden buttons of his jacket, pulling it wide. Eris tugged on the roots of Azriel’s hair in a way that nearly had him forgetting his own name.  Azriel couldn’t deny that he was drawn to Eris like a moth was drawn to a flame, he just hoped he didn’t get burned. The tips of Azriel’s fingers found the laces of Eris’s bloodied, ruined shirt. He wanted the shirt to come off, he’d never wanted anything more. 

Never in his wildest dreams did Azriel think he’d want, need, Eris Vanserra. A prince born into the most savage of courts, born of blood, and ash, and fire. 

Azriel was playing with fire. 

Azriel didn’t like fire. 

With only half a thought, Azriel roughly shoved Eris away from him. 

Eris had red embers dancing in the deep amber of his eyes, his cheeks were flushed and his lips slightly swollen. They were staring at each other, no one speaking for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds in the room their ragged breaths and the crackling of the fire in the hearth. 

Eris ran a hand through his hair, flashing Azriel the pale skin of his wrist as the sleeve lifted. “Well,” Eris started, “That was unexpected.” He huffed a breathless, awkward laugh. Azriel guessed that it might have also been unwelcome.  

“That was…” Azriel paused. He didn’t know what to say. That was nice? That was entirely unplanned? That was something they should do again? He couldn’t read the expression on Eris’s face and his shadows weren’t being very helpful. “That shouldn’t have happened.” 

Azriel knew he’d chipped away at Eris all these weeks. They’d gotten past Azriel’s one-word answers and Eris’s cruel remarks. They’d researched, and spied, and fought together. They talked to one another, trusted one another, but as soon as Azriel finished his sentence, he thought that perhaps he’d taken any progress they’d made and thrown it into roaring flames. 

Watching Eris flip from open and vulnerable to cold and aloof, was like watching the last rays of sun disappear over the horizon — blink and you’d miss it. Eris nodded once, his eyes cold, lifting his chin just a bit. Eris’s voice as he spoke was smooth, arrogant, not a hint of the warmth Azriel had gotten used to. “Usually, males and females alike wait until the morning after to say something along those lines.” 

Azriel stiffened, well aware that he’d managed to hurt Eris. He didn’t know what to say to make this whole thing better, but was saved from having to speak when the door to Eris’s bedroom slammed against the wall as it flew open. 

“I think I’ve found those—” Eris’s younger brother faltered, stopping suddenly, almost as if he’d hit some sort of ward.

Azriel nearly tripped over himself as he abruptly stood, him and Eris weren’t even that close to each other anymore but he felt like he desperately needed the space. Shadows frantically swirled around his feet, some skittering towards the Vanserra by the door. They hadn’t warned him for the second time that night of someone else’s presence, and Azriel was starting to think they were playing some sort of cruel joke on him. 

Azriel had spoken to Rufus many times in their combined efforts to stop Koschei, and the young male almost always had something to say. Rendering him speechless wasn’t something that Azriel would have thought possible, but there he was, multiple ancient looking scrolls in his arms, his jaw slack as his russet eyes looked between the Autumn Court’s Heir and the Night Court’s Spymaster. 

Azriel was certain that alarm was evident all over the features of his usually blank face, his shadows dancing around him as he waited for someone else to speak. 

Rufus angled his head, amusement glittering in his all-too clever eyes. He looked very much like Lucien as he drawled, “Am I interrupting something?” 

Eris’s sharp response nearly had Azriel flinching. “No.” 

Rufus smiled, elegant auburn brows raised as he adjusted the scrolls in his arms, “I have many questions.” 

Eris’s smile in return was more of a bare of teeth, “And you will ask none of them.” 

“I’ll ask them later,” he didn’t even look in Azriel’s direction as he threw himself onto one of the cushioned chairs by the fire. “I got those maps you asked for.” 

Azriel had forgotten that they’d asked Rufus to look for some older maps of the continent. Eris had been sure that they would be able to find some in the library of the Forest House, and Rufus had been the one who offered to look for them. 

“Are you going to look over these with us, Shadowsinger, or are you going to stay by the foot of Eris’s bed the whole night?” 

Rufus spoke to Azriel, but Eris answered for him. “Azriel was just leaving.” 

Azriel turned his head sharply to face Eris. He was still leaning against the headboard of his bed, his hair messier than Azriel had ever seen it, his mouth set in a way that suggested he wasn’t very pleased. 

“Eris…” Azriel made to take a step towards him. 

The Autumn prince just waved a hand dismissively, “Have a goodnight.” 

Azriel barely heard him, the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. He couldn’t help but feel as though leaving Eris’s cottage might be an even bigger mistake than the kiss. Azriel nodded once at Eris, deciding he’d winnow straight to the House of Wind as shadows swarmed him; he wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone right now. Eris’s flame bright eyes was the last thing Azriel saw as he was engulfed in darkness. 

[cheesecakethots]

geto having a cute little non-sorcerer wife that he swears he hates.

he only marries you for your father’s riches, and so when you arrive on his doorstep he leaves the maids to tell you where you’ll be staying; the room furthest from his own.

you’ve been instructed not to so much as look at him, but he finds that he hardly sees you, anyway. you’re more like a ghost that haunts the manor than his wife.

most of the time he’ll happen to pass you sat alone in the garden, dressed in pretty kimonos that have most definitely been suited to his tastes. he hardly speaks to you, the only time he has was when the two of you had accidentally bumped into each other when turning a corner.

“watch it, monkey,” he had hissed, before continuing on with his day. he later found himself thinking on the nervous expression and faint embarrassed blush that had adorned your face. he had been tempted to smash his head against the wall to rid himself of the memory, as it plagued him the entire evening.

your father starts visiting and he has the basic decency to at least pretend as though he loves you. it results in awkward proximity and unloving kisses to your forehead, at least until your father leaves.

for some time, geto’s not entirely sure as to why you play along. you could go to your father and ask to leave this loveless marriage, could you not? then it dawns on him; your father doesn’t care, and you already know that. geto doesn’t like how a tiny part of his chest aches when he thinks too hard about that fact.

it’s not as though he leaves you locked up in some basement, withering away. you’re allowed to explore most of the manor, most of your needs can be met by asking the maids and very rarely he will permit you to visit the nearby town marketplace with some guards.

he starts seeing you more. he’ll sometimes find himself out in the garden, pretending that he has any business outside other than to keep an eye on you. he’ll never admit it, but it can sometimes calm him down, just watching you go about your day. to him it’s like watching a pet trot about, not realising their owner is watching with keen eyes. you’re still just a useless monkey, of course.

one day he discovers you crying in the garden you love so much. he’s never seen you cry before, hell, he’s hardly seen any emotions on you.

“what happened?” he finds himself asking before he can stop. you jump in your seat, not having expected him to be beside you.

“nothing, really,” you say, your voice still shaky and your hand wiping away at drying tears, “i’m sorry to have bothered you.”

he frowns, his patience quickly wearing thin. “tell me, now. what happened?”

you sigh, and some part of him can’t help but note how pretty your eyes look, despite the redness around them. he pushes the thought out before it can properly settle.

“my father sent me a letter,” you confess. “he’s… not happy with me.”

he steps closer to you. “why?”

you hesitate, your mouth opening and closing, but the expression he wears has you telling the truth.

“he wishes that i was pregnant with your child. i have told him that i am not, and never will be, and he… well, he’s not happy.”

suguru raises an eyebrow. “never will be… ?”

you blush, looking to the floor. “i know that you hate me. it may be easier for you to have a child with another.”

he scoffs.

“i don’t-“ geto pauses himself. “do you really think i’m the type of man to have a bastard with some whore?”

“w-well, no, but-“

“do you wish to stay married to me?”

you gulp. “no. i don’t.”

he pauses for a moment, seemingly considering something.

“if you give me a child, i’ll allow you to leave. you’ll still be married to me in name, but you won’t have to stay here, and you won’t be tethered to your father.”

your jaw drops for a moment, and then you collect yourself. “will i be able to see the child after i give birth?”

“sometimes,” he tells you. in reality, he doubt he’d ever let you near them, but you don’t need to know that.

“… okay.”

he finds it harder to convince himself that he hates everything about you when he has you beneath him, your ankles on his broad shoulders and your hands pressing against his back. he can’t help but fuck you even faster when hearing you whine and mewl. he wants to lick the expression you have off of your face, but refuses to indulge in the idea.

“su-su-suguru!” you cry. he stills inside you for just a moment. it’s the first time he’s ever heard you say his name. he was beginning to think you had forgotten it.

he grabs onto your wrists with one hand, pressing them above your head and manhandling you into another position, one in which he can somehow go even deeper than before.

he chuckles, low and raspy, “stupid fucking monkey…”

he’s starting to wonder if maybe he needs two kids. maybe four? hm. maybe you do have your usefulness. maybe he shouldn’t let you go, after all.

[tatesweaterweather]

“You know that somewhere deep down, you still love me” sex with Kai - fem!reader <3

(⚠️ warnings!: talk of cheating, slight abuse, stalking, cussing & smut)

It had been two years since you seen Kai.

Two years since you told him you no longer wanted to be with him. He didn’t take it well.

For six months straight you flinched at every slight noise. You found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder in fear you would find him behind you, waiting to wrap his fingers around your vocal cords until you could no longer form a proper sentence. You knew what Kai was capable of but you just couldn’t stand to be around him anymore.

You waited until what you thought was the right time and told it to him straight. He just looked at you with anger burning behind his eyes, a look you’ve seen but never received.

After catching the terrifying look upon his face, you stood up from the couch in fear while Kai remained silent. When you had tried to leave, he grabbed your wrist in an attempt to make you stay. When that didn’t work and you pulled away, he began to angrily scream at you with everything he had. You never felt so fearful in your life.

You eventually made it out though, physically and emotionally. Slowly but surely, you had began to see less and less of Kai. You no longer caught his henchmen lingering. Those songs that always reminded you of him no longer reminded you of him.

About four months ago you started dating your current boyfriend, Ethan. You had met him in a bar and instantly, you two became friends. From there, you began taking your relationship to the next level and so on. Things were finally looking okay for you.

This evening, you and Ethan had decided that you were going to stay in instead of going out for your date. You ordered food, set up a movie, and switched into your comfy clothes when you had seen your phone begin to light up. Instinctively, you reached for it. When you picked it up, you immediately felt as if your heart was in your throat.

It was Kai.

You stared down at your phone in confusion. You thought you had blocked his number ages ago, so how could he be calling? You quickly apologized to your boyfriend before leaving the room to answer.

“Hello?” You hesitantly questioned.

“Hey, little lamb.” Kai spoke from the other side of the phone. You instantly got butterflies from the old nickname but quickly pushed them down.

“You shouldn’t be calling.” Your voice went quiet as you stared down at your feet.

“I’m calling about Winter.” He paused. “Something happened.”

“What?” The feeling of worry easily making your voice crack. “What do you mean something happened?”

“It’s just-” He started but cut himself off. “There was an accident. She’s here at home now. I figured you may have wanted to know that considering you two used to be friends.”

“Oh, shit.” You frantically looked around. “Okay, I’m on my way. Is it bad? Like, should I take something for her?”

“No, she doesn’t need anything right now. Just get here as quickly as you can.” He replied with shortly before hanging up.

Shakily, you placed your phone down and began getting dressed. You anxiously fished through your closet for the closest pair of shoes, not realizing your boyfriend was now behind you.

“Jesus, fuck. You scared me, Ethan.” You clutched your chest.

“Something wrong, babe?” He looked at you, concern in his eyes.

“It’s my friend, Winter. They said she was in an accident. I’m heading over there now.” You explained as you grabbed your purse, slinging it over your shoulder.

“Oh, shit. That’s not good. Did you want me to come with?” Your boyfriend offered.

“No, I couldn’t ask you to do that. Plus, it’s most likely going to be chaotic and I don’t want to put you through that.” You kissed his lips. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

Ethan nodded and you smiled softly before swiftly walking down the stairs to your car. After you had left Kai, you decided to move about a half hour west of your old place. You shakily sighed as you made your way to your ex boyfriend’s house.

About a half hour later, you pulled up in front of the house. You swallowed in anxiousness and made your way to the front door. You knocked a few times before Kai answered.

“Hi.” He smiled down at you.

“Hey, Kai.” You smiled back. “So, where’s Winter?”

“Oh, I just went to help her lay down. It was going to be a surprise for you to be here but because I didn’t want to ruin it, I didn’t tell her and I just let her sleep.” He stepped to the side. “You can come in, if you want. She’ll probably want to get up again soon.”

Hesitantly, you nodded and walked inside. The memories of the house instantly hit you like a pile of bricks.

“Wow.” You traced the walls with your fingers. “It’s been so long.”

“Yeah..” Kai agreed. “So, did you want to wait for her in the basement? We can sit around down there, like old times.”

You nodded softly in agreement, not wanting to upset Kai in any way. He motioned for you to go first as he held the door open. You slowly began walking down the stairs, shakily placing your hands on the wall which each step for support. When you got to the bottom of the stairs you stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Kai reassured you. “I’m not gonna hurt you. You don’t have to be so jumpy.”

“Sorry..” You trailed off as you sat down on the sofa. Kai sat down on the chair across from you and sent you a small smile.

“So, tell me what’s new.” He looked at you expectedly.

“Not much, I’m the same as always.” You began fidgeting with your phone in anxiousness, your lock screen immediately lighting up. You looked down to see you and Ethan sharing a kiss. “Well, there is something new actually. I have a new boyfriend.”

Kai’s unreadable expression remained the same. “Oh? That’s great, little lamb. Why don’t you tell me a little about him.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat from the now foreign nickname. “Uh, we started dating a few months ago. His name is Ethan.”

“Ethan.” Kai nodded. “I’m happy for you, angel.”

“Yeah..” You smiled, not knowing what to say. “So, anything new with you, Kai?”

“No.” Kai shook his head. “Well.. I do have a little something to confess.”

You looked at him expectedly, waiting for him to go on.

“I wasn’t exactly honest with you earlier, little lamb.” He leaned forward in his seat.

“What?” You weren’t sure if you had heard him right.

“Well, I called you over here because Winter had an accident.” He stood up. “Truth be told, Winter is just fine.”

You sent him a confused expression to which he responded with by smiling.

“Yeah, she’s out with a friend right now.” He began walking over to you, sitting on the coffee table just in front of your legs. “I just needed to get you over here but I knew I would have to tell you a little white lie in order for that to happen.”

You were at a loss for words. What the fuck?

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” He asked. “Did you seriously think I would just let you leave me for that premature dickwad?”

“Don’t call him that.” Your voice weakened as he continued to stare you down. “I knew it was a mistake coming here. You’re fucked up, Kai.”

You attempted to stand up but Kai instantly pulled you back down.

“Are you happy with him?” He questioned.

“What?” You stared at him in confusion.

“Are you happy with him?” Kai repeated.

“Yes, I’m very happy with him.” You defended your relationship. Kai leaned in and your heartbeat immediately picked up.

“How’s the sex?” He taunted. “How often do you cum when you’re with him?”

You look down to avoid Kai’s stares. You kept quiet as he waited for an answer.

“Well..?” He waited. “Does he please you how you want to be pleased?”

“Yes..” You nodded.

“Why did it take you so long to answer me, little lamb? Are you lying?” He spoke with a dominant tone in his voice.

“No.” The submissive side of you instantly taking over.

“Are you sure?” He leaned in, his breath dangerously close to your ear. “Because if you’re lying, daddy will know.”

Your breath hitched as Kai began running his fingers up and down your thighs.

“You know that somewhere deep down, you still love me.” Kai’s lips touched your earlobe. Your eyes closed as his fingers began getting higher and higher up your thighs.

“Kai, we can’t. It’s not right.” You gently shoved him away. “It’s not right for either of us to be doing this right now.”

“I don’t know, baby.” Kai leaned back in, slipping his hand under your pants and into your panties. His fingers swirled around your entrance, not quite making their way in. You moaned softly and he pulled them out of your underwear. “You seem pretty into it, to me.”

The thoughts in your head were running so fast you didn’t even notice yourself slipping into his touch.

“Go on, angel. Let loose.” He whispered into your ear. “Why don’t you let daddy take care of you, hm?”

“Okay..” You hesitantly gave in to the lust running through your veins.

Kai pulled away for a split second to lift you up from your sitting position, laying you down on your back with your legs dangling off the arm of the couch. He looked down at you with lust before removing your pants along with your panties.

“Fuck..” He cursed as he took in the sight of your glistening pussy. He dropped down to his knees before pulling your legs closer to his face. He licked a stripe up your slit and you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan.

“That’s right, baby. Let daddy know how good he makes you feel.” He rubbed your clit softly with his thumb, flicking his tongue inside you simultaneously. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and your hands went flying to Kai’s hair, gripping it slightly.

“Oh..” You whimpered as Kai removed his tongue, replacing it with his fingers. His fingers moved smoothly in and out of you, your greedy cunt coating them with every movement. “Kai.. please.”

“I’m sorry, what? I’m not entirely sure I understand.” Kai taunted. “I think you’re going to need to repeat yourself for me, princess.”

“Please, daddy.” You begged. “Please, I need you.”

“Alright, angel.” Kai stood up and immediately flipped you around so that your ass was in the air. “But only because you asked me so nicely.”

With your thoughts running loose, the only noise you could focus on was the sound of Kai’s zipper and the slapping of his cock against your pussy. You let out a soft moan as he pulled you in closer. He pushed in and instantly, a groan was pulled from his lips.

“Fuck.” He cursed as he found a fast, even pace. “Always so fucking wet for me.”

He reached down to rub your clit harshly with his fingers and you whimpered as you felt your orgasm begin to approach.

“Daddy..” You sobbed as you were overcome with pleasure. “I need to cum.”

“Go on, baby.” He continued his harsh movements against your clit. “Cum for me.”

You moaned out loudly as your legs began to shake violently under him, causing him to groan. He fucked you through your orgasm and you couldn’t help but let out a few tears from the overstimulation. He continued with his fast pace for a few more moments before you noticed his hips beginning to falter.

He groaned and cursed simultaneously as he came inside of you, causing you to gasp at the feeling. He took a few minutes to breathe before gently pulling out. He noticed you still slumped over in exhaustion and delicately picked you up, sitting you back down on the couch again. You sent him a small smile in return.

Realizing what you had just done, your breath picked up and you immediately began to panic. You looked down at your phone to see 3 missed texts from Ethan.

“Shit.”

(a/n: this fic was so fucked i’m sorry LOL! i literally wrote it so toxic. but i mean, isn’t that all kai is? toxic? idk. let me know what you think. should i add another part to this? more angst maybe?)

[inquisimer]

happy friday Mer!! for dadwc I'm thinking "i’ve got myself, i’ve got my freedom, but i’m searching for my home // cause i am hurting but not helpless, full of strength and scars" for Cullen/Neria :D

HAPPY FRIDAY JAY I come bearing some fluffy fluff for Neria and Cullen🥺🥺

wc: 1186

for @dadrunkwriting

~~~

If you measured home by how long she’d spent in any given place, Kinloch Hold would take the title. Her earliest memories were the dusty corners of the library, the faded velveteen drapes in the dormitories, the lingering scent of plain laundry soap the Tranquil used to wash the robes. She spent her formative years learning every inch of that tower, from supply runs to the basement to illicit trysts atop the roof. That was where she made her first friends and mistakes, where she learned that the world could be cruel and cold—but it could also be kind.

But the Circle was never home.

Neither was Kirkwall, though it was stability after a long while on the run. Anders’ clinic, the cramped room in Lowtown, even the Hanged Man—each remarkable in that she could come and go and they would still be there whenever she returned. She’d never had that consistency, not coupled with the freedom she so treasured at least, and it was novel and exhilarating and intimidating all at once.

And then, with a few bursts of anger and words said in heat, it was gone.

For a time, home was what it had been right after her escape: a dry place to sleep, fresh running water, a family who slipped her apples and kept their lips sealed. But it didn’t last as long as it had the first time—very quickly home became reddish sails and tanned faces lined with ink and learning to tread the forest with as much care as she wanted in return.

Until that, too, was stolen away by life, by circumstance, by the twisted weaving of the Maker, the Creators, or whoever pulled the strings of fate from on high.

She wasn’t sure if it was better or worse, the hushed whispers and awestruck stares as opposed to the suspicious oversight of Templars. Which was a better reaction to something she wasn’t: reverence or fear?

She found both in Haven and she wondered, tracing the scar on her forearm between sips of watered-down ale, if this would somehow be home. Would the emotional rush of the apocalypse forge these tentative friendships and unforseen circumstances into something more?

As always, it was some of both. For Haven proper was buried under an avalanche of snow and months of tragedy and victory, sacrifice and savor had passed before she found a proper answer.

She headed north out of Skyhold, slipping over the battlements with a tether of mana that saw her safely to the snow-covered earth. The fortress wasn’t half as isolated as Solas had led them to believe—though well fortified, there were remnants of settlements lost to time and the Frostbacks within sight of even the shortest towers. The path she followed now was discreet, but one her feet knew well, leading to a cabin the scouts had found on one of their first trips around Skyhold’s exterior.

Smoke already puffed from the chimney when the structure came within sight and that alone made warmth blossom through Neria’s chest. She hugged her basket close and pulled the fluttering edges of her cloak tight around her neck until she entered the warmth of the tiny cabin.

It had been a dilapidated place when the scouts first showed it to her, but like a sculptor with their clay, she saw the potential. Whenever she could steal a moment from Leliana’s trickery or Josephine’s scheming, she would sneak away, calling the Fade to her fingers and coaxing the wood back to life, the strength back to the foundation. Eventually, she lured Cullen out here as well, some lie about strategy and defense of their home base quick to her tongue.

He’d taken to the retreat with surprisingly little convincing; perhaps it reminded him of Honnleath, or perhaps it was simply different enough from his office, far enough removed from the corpses of Haven and shadows of Orlais that he could shed the skin of the Commander and relax.

For instance, when she ducked through the cabin door, she found him with his armor off, kneeling in front of the fire, stirring a pot that bubbled with some manner of thick stew. His sleeves were cuffed up to his elbows and his eyes closed, the slightest smile betraying his pleasure at the aroma wafting up to greet him.

Neria slipped in as silently as she could manage—which was quite silently, especially when the target was someone used to enemies approaching in plate armor and heavy shields. She deposited the basket of bread on the table and pushed her hood back from her head, padding over to slide her arms around Cullen’s neck and rest her chin atop his head. He started, just slightly, but her touch was as familiar to her as the weight of his sword against his hip and he immediately relaxed into her embrace.

“On dhea,” she murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his curls. The were loose and soft, just how she loved to see them. Perhaps she would have a word with the Ambassador—it shouldn’t be too much of a stretch to suggest that importing so much hair gel was an unnecessary burden on their budget.

“Hi,” he replied, voice low and gravelly from an odd combination of overuse and disuse. He clears his throat and tips his head back to press an inverted kiss to her lips. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Oh?” A teasing smile came to her lips, all too easy, as she shed the mantle of Inquisitor and embraced the lightness of this sanctuary. “Were you expecting someone else?”

Embarrassment flooded his cheeks in an instant and he abandoned the spoon in the pot to clasp at the back of his neck. He grinned sheepishly.

“Of course not, I—“

She silenced his defenses with another kiss, more insistent and firm, enough that he turned to face her properly and slid his arms around her waist to draw her close. Lost in the sensation, the smell of oakmoss and armor polish, the fire his hands stroked across her back, the comforting crackle of the fire in the hearth, she hardly noticed when he dipped her down and pulled her snugly into the cradle of his arms.

They broke apart with a gasp, each flushed more than the heat of the fire would do alone. Neria threaded her fingers through his hair; Cullen traced the shell of her ear, thumbs following the path of teal lines around her eyes and across her cheeks.

Home was not a place, she thought. It was not a Circle tower, or a rundown flat in the worst city of the Marches. It was not a hollow at the base of a tree or a bountiful bush of berries that would feed her for another night; it was not the landships of the Dalish or the worship of so much ignorance.

Home was here and now—the warmth in her heart and the safety and care and love that seeped through her like a sip of fine wine.

Home was him and finally, she was home.

[hereiamagainiguess]

The Box in the Basement

It was Katsuki's turn to make dinner and Izuku couldn’t wait, Katsuki’s cooking was his favourite, besides maybe his mums. Even then, there were some things he just made better, not that he would ever admit that to Inko herself.

"Hey Kacchan, do we have any kettlebells?"

"In the basement, nerd,"

Izuku smiled to himself and stood up, putting his notebook and pen on the coffee table and stretched his arms out above his head until he heard the crack of his joints.

He slipped his house shoes on his feet and headed towards the basement door.

The two had been living together in this house for a year and a half now, and Izuku doesn't remember ever needing to go into the basement.

Not since they moved in and stored odd things in there that they wanted out of the way, anyway.

He descended the uneven steps to the heavy wooden door and pulled the latch before shuffling into the dusty room, flicking on the light and watching the bulb flicker to life.

As his eyes scanned the room to find what he came down for, his eyes lingered on an aged wooden box, hidden in the corner.

Huh. He didn't think he'd ever seen that before, it definitely wasn't his. Shaking his head, curiosity won over his restraint and he sat on the hardwood floor next to the box and studied it.

It was a dark mahogany with a smooth glaze, chipped in areas showing its age. The hinges and fittings were a dull brass, with identical studs over the lid.

Izuku ran a scarred hand over the metal with a curiosity as his fingers found the latch, flipping it open and peering inside.

Now, the box wasn't too big, it was your average sized chest.

Inside, Izuku saw a multitude of different things, including clothes from Katsuki's teenage years, some old All Might merch and some gifts he received from Izuku during their time at middle school.

It made him smile to know that he had kept those despite everything that happened between them.

To say Katsuki made fun of Izuku for being sentimental, this whole box seems to contain the blonde's own memories of the past.

Digging through it with a smile unearthed some picture frames, photos of Katsuki and his parents, with some of his extended family, and right at the bottom was a picture of him and Izuku as children, caught in a priceless moment of laughter.

His heart melted as he looked at the photo, a silly grin widened on his face as appraising eyes gazed at the photo. He would have to replace the frame, maybe see if he can convince the man upstairs to put it on the mantle with their UA memories.

He set the picture aside gently, continuing to dig through the box.

At the very bottom, was something he never thought he would see again, that he hadn’t laid eyes on since he was sure it was disposed of in middle school. His eyes widened at the sight of it, realisation coming to mind as he willed himself not to get emotional.

“Hero Analysis for the Future : 13”

He had carefully removed the signature from All Might and thrown the notebook out, counting it damaged beyond repair. Whatever hadn't been fried was damaged by the water from the koi pond.

It was in a plastic cover, almost preserving it, and with shaky hands, Izuku picked it up. He flicked through it, seeing his notes copied on new paper that was hastily shoved between each page in teen Katsuki's scratchy lettering.

Tears welled up in his eyes despite his efforts, as he turned the pages, seeing all the notes that could be recovered copied out onto nice lined paper.

He rubbed his eyes before flicking to the empty pages, when out fell an envelope, addressed to "Deku".

The handwriting was still what Katsuki's used to be when they were in UA.

He slipped his finger under the seal for the envelope and pulled out the sheets of paper, unfolding them and smoothing the creases.

"Deku

If you're reading this, it means I've found my goddamn balls to give you this back.

I saw it on my way home that day with the shitty fucking sludge villain, and something made me stop and take it with me.

I don't know, I dont fucking know why I burnt it in the first place, maybe subconsciously shitty younger me thought it'd be a setback to you.

In that moment I remembered how you looked when taking these dumb notes, how happy and invested you seem and it made me feel like an ass I guess.

Especially after your dumb ass saved me. Yeah, I can admit that now.

Because since then you've saved me many more times in multiple ways.

I wasn't used to feeling like I was wrong about anything, stupid right?

I just kept it for a while, but now in our second year I decided to do something with it, now we are talking again.

I salvaged what notes I could.

Is this weird? Maybe it's weird. Maybe you've already forgotten this.

But I don't think either of us will forget what I said that day.

For what it's worth, nerd, I'm glad you didn't listen to me.

I don't know what had crawled up my ass and died but no one deserves to hear that, especially not you.

I have had nightmares y'know, of you following through because of me.

I didn't know how to fix it, I was dumb. Hell, I still am.

I know now I never hated you, I didn't know how to feel things other than anger after a certain point and I took it out on you. Sometimes I'm no better than I was back then. But I know you’ll be patient with me even though I don’t deserve it.

Anyway, this is too much sap for this time of night.

I'm sorry.

I hope one day I can atone enough

I love you Izuku

-Kacchan,"

Izuku was fully crying by the end of this, barely registering the footsteps.

"Hey nerd? What's taking you so long? Dinner is ready,"

Katsuki walked up and saw a pile of crying nerd on the floor holding a letter.

"Oh,"

Izuku looked up and his eyes met crimson, wobbly smile shining through his sobs.

"Kacchan,"

He shifted nervously, keeping his eyes on the green haired hero., not knowing exactly what to say.

"I guess I never got the balls to give it to you, huh, " he smiled a little, clearly out of his depth.

He really hadn’t expected for Izuku to find any of that stuff.

A flash of familiar green light was all the warning he got before being tackled into a hug. Luckily for him, he managed to catch himself before he fell at the impact. He had plenty of practice with this particular circumstance.

"Kacchan," he sobbed into the blonde's shoulder, holding him tight.

He wrapped his arms around the shaking body gripping him, gently playing with the stray curls at the nape of his neck.

“I got you,”

https://twitter.com/niamhwaite/status/1427792906979581953?s=20

[lovesanmotion]

yandere!ateez 99 & 00 liner reacts: seeing s/o kill for the first time

💌. This is: requested | 98 liner reaction here 

TW: blood and gore 

Yunho: 

The thought originally came when Yunho let you borrow his playstation controller while playing an rpg game. Situated in the living room, he made himself comfortable besides you on the couch and watched how you strategized and kill your enemies through the screen. And then the thought came into him, what if you kill with him? Slowly his mind drifted into the new found thought and kept pondering about it besides you. 

“Are you okay, love? I said I finished the game and look!” You smiled as you pointed at the screen with the words YOU WON. He smiled and placed a kiss on your cheek before turning off the controller and helping you cook dinner. 

When the following week came, Yunho was on his way home from the groceries when someone he knew particularly bumped into him. 

“Watch where you’re going man. Jesus.” He sneered at Yunho before going back to whoever he was talking to on the phone. That particularly person isn’t just a random stranger, it was your ex boyfriend who dumped you for a random girl he met online. Yunho stopped on his tracks, pondering in his thoughts before putting the paper bags inside the car and walking over to some place else. 

“Y/N look what I have for you!” you went over to where you heard Yunho was and it lead you to the living room, in the middle of the room is a man tied onto a chair with a sack covering his head. 

A smile still plastered on his lips as he hands you a metal baseball bat. You blinked twice before taking it in your hands. You were using the same kind of bat while playing Yunho’s game. He was sensing your hesitation before he went behind you and whispered in your ear. 

“This is your ex boyfriend. He bumped into me the other day, wouldn’t it be nice to take your revenge?” And with that, a thousand of horrible memories came flooding into your head. There are good memories with your ex, however, they were overshadowed by the bad ones. Gripping your hold on the base, you swinged the bat and continously swung it over his head. Hearing a few bones cracking and watching as the white sack turn into bright red. You wouldn’t stop not until Yunho wrapped his arms around you from behind and took the bat away from you. 

“That’s enough, darling. You did so well today. Done beautifully.” Sensing his smile, he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face on the crook of your neck and hearing the thud of the metal bat onto the floor. 

Yeosang: 

“Do you love me, Y/N?” 

His voice ran chills down your spine. In front of you is the love of your life, staring deeply into your eyes while a third party whose hands and ankles are binded, hid behind Yeosang’s back and body on the floor. And this was no ordinary person who’s binded and laying pathetically on Yeosang’s basement. It was your old college dormmate, now all botched up, who tried to take Yeosang from you. 

“If you love me” Yeosang says, taking your hands in his before placing a small pointed metal with a wooden handle into your hands. An ice pick. “you would kill for me.” He ends his sentence before moving away, his eyes never removing from you. Yeosand’s smart and you knew why he chose this weapon. Once stabbed, the victim doesn’t die immediately, rather, the stab wounds would turn into injuries forming blood clots until slowly the victim slips into their death. Making the victim look like they died from blood clotting, internal bleeding or aneurysm. 

You slowly kneeled down besides her head, watching as her eyes gloss with tears. 

“Please Y/N. Were friends” she chokes out before breaking into a sob. You softly cooed at her, brushing a few hairstrands away from her face. 

“This will be quick” raising your right hand and then stabbing the ice pick onto her forehead, burying the metal surface deeply into her skull, twisting the weapon and then swiftly pulling it out of her. 

Yeosang’s giggles broke the silence of the room as he takes the ice pick from your hand, placing it on top of the table before wrapping his arms around you. 

“I knew you love me too, Y/N!” He chirps. Seeing him happy made your feelings swell and warm your insides, you raised your arms and slowly wrapped them around his nape, hugging him back. 

San: 

You and San are not in the best of terms as of the moment. You had raised your voice at him and disobeyed him, causing him to leave the shared home, only to return home with a random girl he picked up from the streets and started to have sex with her in the living room. You took your earphones and mp3 player from your desk, playing a random song just to block the girl’s annoying autotuned moaning from your ears. You couldn’t care less if San was dicking her down, you knew you were bound to die in this place before you could even see San in a different light. 

And everything was going fine until your bedroom swung open and a shirtless San barged into your room, grabbing your forearm and then dragging you into the room next to yours. 

“Let go of me you manwhore!” You tried yanking your arm away from his grip only to fail. You were expecting to see a naked woman on his bed, whoever it turned out to be the opposite. The woman, still fully clothed, has her arms and ankles tied onto the bed posts. You were confused, you looked at San for an answer. 

“Do you think I’m a manwhore when I dedicate my whole life to you?” He says, walking closer to you, eyes staring straight into your dark brown orbs. “Kill her, if you hate her presence bothers you so much.” He says before taking a hold on your shoulders and spinning you around. The woman shook her head, pleading for her life. But all you did is grab onto the pillow and watch her suffocate while struggling. When she was no longer struggling, you immediately let go of the cushions, your back bumping into San’s hard rock chest. 

“That’s my baby.” He whispers softly, hugging you from behind and placing his chin on top of your shoulder. 

Mingi: 

He doesn’t see the point of you still working in your corporate office when all your boss does is humiliate you in front of your co workers. For all he knows, your boss should keep his mouth shut or else he’d kill him. Kill. The word rang into his mind. What if you, the love of his life, kill your boss? It sounded like a good plan. Better even. That night, he stepped out into the night and kidnapped your boss who is easy enough to locate. 

Your self esteem went lower and lower as your boss would continue to humiliate you inside the office. But when you heard that he didn’t come to work today, you were wondering where the devil is he. It wasn’t until you clocked out at 6pm and went straight home. 

“Hi Y/N!” Mingi smiles, waving his hand happily but with your boss all tied up into a chair. Your eyes widened in surprise making you drop your handbag. 

“I can’t let this fat fuck run his mouth and talk shit about my baby. So I did the honors for you.” How could he still smile in a situation like this? He kidnapped your boss and he’s happy about it? 

“And so, to end my baby’s pain, she gets to do this. One time big time only.” He hands you a jagdkommando knife. 

Your breath hitched. “H-how do you have this?” you asked, your voice coming out merely a whisper. Mingi takes a step closer to you, cupping your eyes as he looks into your eyes brimming with tears. “Don’t ask questions like that now, jagi. What matters here is that once we, well you, kill him, all the money he has will be wired into my account and you wouldn’t have to work for that damned office anymore. Don’t you want that?” He leans down and places a kiss on your forehead. 

You turned to face your boss whose wailing around his seat, his pants dampening with his pee. Raising your hand, you brought the knife down on his neck. Hearing that squelching sound before taking the knife out, raising your hand and bringing it to his stomach and pulling it out. Your work clothes stained with his blood, watching your boss bleed out through the large holes you’ve created on his skin with the knife. 

“Don’t hurt yourself now.” He whispers, taking the knife away from your hand. “How was your day today, jagi? Let me run you a hot bath before we have dinner.” He says, taking you upstairs. 

Wooyoung: 

He got a little carried away torturing a guy who confessed to you the other day for liking you. He was having his own little fun by purposefully making him trip on his own feet and stab his legs, dodging him whenever he would lunge at him and then hit his head on the wall. That was what he was doing until you came home. 

“Hear that, idiot? She’s home.” He says, leaving the basement with a mood shift. Happily skipping to the living room to greet you. “Darlinggg~” he flings his arms around you. 

“What’s got you so hyper right now?” You chuckle softly, turning to face him. Instead of replying, he took a hold of your hand and lead you the basement. To your surprise, you see a man whose lying on the floor, pants bloodied and covered in sweat. 

“It’s your turn to get into the fun!” He smiles handing you a russian roulette with only one bullet inside. “I already had my turn with him and I reserved for you the grand finale.” He says, hugging you tightly in his arms. “Think of this as his final dying act. When he dies, the curtains will close and the people will praise you.” He places a big kiss on your cheek. 

You weren’t skilled like Wooyoung, but you hoped that this bullet would go into his head. You took a deep breath and pulled the trigged. And as you wished, the bullet pierced through the skin of his forehead and into his skull. 

Wooyoung clapped and stood up from his seat like a standing ovation. He walks up to you and takes your hand in his. 

“What a natural.” 

Jongho: 

Staring at you is something that Jongho will never get tired of doing. Even when you get embarrassed, Jongho will never keep his eyes off you. If his eyes were his stomach, they would feel so full just by looking at you. Only he can stare at you how he wants to. No one else except him. Not until his next door neighbor accidentally discovered you when you opened the door. 

He was furious at you and at his neighbor and dragged both of you into his basement. Before he left, you pleaded not to let him leave you alone. Seeing the tears in your eyes were his ultimate weakness, he hated the feeling that it was him who made you cry. But you broke a rule, and it is only fitting that you receive a punishment. 

“Wait here” he says, ascending up the stairs and going somewhere. When he came back, he has a 7 needle gauge in his hand. 

“You broke a rule, darling. You shouldn’t have answered the door. If you want me to forgive you, stab his eyes.” He says, your breath hitched. Never once did you imagine yourself killing someone. Let alone be an order from a person. When you sat closer to his neighbor, you quickly pierced the needle into his eye. Letting out a blood curdling scream, your heart raced. Swiftly taking the needle out, the man lets out a cry before screaming again as you did the same into his left eye. 

When he was no longer moving, it was your turn to cry. Tossing the needle away as you brought your knees close to your chest, sobbing. Jongho’s footsteps could be heard behind you, slowly he lifted you up and carried you bridal style. 

“It’s over now, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you anymore.” 

[darkmulti]

Can u do a BTS Yandere Jungkook kidnapping you because you look like his fiancé who had passed away and forces you to stay with him (NON-CON)

-> sorry for any mistakes

⚠️: NON CON, yandere behaviour, mentions of murder and death, kidnapping, torture, dark yandere

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were having a fantastic day

You were quite productive today which made you extremely happy

You had bought some groceries, treated yourself to some coffee and bought lunch to eat at home

You were very relaxed until you realized someone had been following you

You took a back alley because it was a short cut to your apartment

Yes, I know it sounds cliché, but you were wearing heels and it hurt

You heard foots steps behind you so you fastened your pace

It was the wrong move because when you did, he came up behind you and everything went black

You woke up in an unfamiliar room

You rubbed your eyes, trying your very best to remember what happened the previous night

Did you get drunk?

Did you go to a club?

Why was your head hurting so bad?

You sit up and look at one of the photos on the wall

Was that you? Who was that man?

“Oh, you’re awake?”

“Who are you?! Where am I?! What happened?!” You exclaimed and get out of the bed

“Calm down before I bring the gag out. I’m your fiancé. Isn’t that exciting?”

“What the fuck?! I don’t even know you how are we engaged?”

“Don’t swear in my house. Izzy never sweared, nor should you.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m leaving.”

You slip the ring off your finger and walk passed him but he grabbed your arm and pushed you onto the floor

“I hate repeating myself.”

He closed the door with his foot and got on top of you

He was trying to undress you but you didn’t allow it

You put your feet on his chest and pushed back with your leg muscles

“Ugh! I hate hurting you, but you’re forcing me to.” He pulled you back under him and ripped your pants off with a small pocket knife in his hand

You started screaming hysterically, hoping someone was outside

But you knew no help would come when the unknown man didn’t bother to shut you up

You started crying when you were almost naked

Who was he and why is he doing this to you?!

You looked down to see your lower region and his member aligned

He pinned down your hands beside your head and thrusted in

You scream in pain but that didn’t stop him

He held onto your wrist tighter and tighter as he thrusted

You tried closing your legs but his body was in between, so you couldn’t

You were stuck

You didn’t know what to do

Your arms were down, your legs were down

Your mouth was uncovered but words weren’t going to stop him

That was the first time he violated you

You knew it was wrong

You tried to escape from him for months but he was always one step ahead

Every time you tried to escape, a cruel punishment would follow

He would tie you up in the basement

Fuck you until the sun’s out

He wouldn’t feed you every day

Makes you beg for water

Forces you to tell him that you love him and that you’ll never leave his side

Jungkook will completely break you and train you to be submissive for him

A year went by and Jungkook forced you to be his fiancée

After the engagement, he started opening up

You finally felt comfortable enough to ask him about the picture on the wall

About the girl who looked exactly like you

He smiled, memories rushing back

“She was once my whole world. She never failed to bring a smile on my face...”

He stopped talking for a moment and his face darkened

“Until she decided to cheat on me. After I found out, I ran her and her little boyfriend over with my car. Ever since then, I’ve been running from the police.”

You gasp, not expecting to hear that

“S-so what does that have to do with me? I never did anything to you, w-we just happen to look similar.”

“I wanted to torture her instead of killing her right away. But my anger got the best of me. Since you look like her, it’s easy for me to imagine her face when I hurt her. She needs to feel the pain I felt. That bitch made me feel like I’m completely worthless. She made me feel like I wasn’t enough. The audacity she had. I GAVE HER EVERY FUCKING THING SHE WANTED! AND THAT’S HOW SHE REPAID ME!”

You flinched when he started yelling out of nowhere

He was blinded by anger once again

Suddenly, he got on top of you and attacked your neck

You knew exactly what he wanted but you were afraid too

You put your hands over your head and let him take his anger out on you before he accidentally kills you

You’ve had plenty of sex with him but this time, it was a lot worse

You were already shaking in fear by his words, so when he started pressing down harder on your neck, you freaked out

He was going faster and harder into you while you were running out of oxygen

Jungkook clearly saw you struggling but decided to continue on

Hours went by, you both changed positions

You were laying on your stomach with your face stuffed in a pillow while he rammed your ass

You both came from the last time and he laid down next to you

He pulled your body closer to his, not bothering to clean up because the messy cum turns him on in the morning

He wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you close enough so your back was touching his chest

“But I know you won’t ever do anything like that to me. I love you, my princess.”

“I- I promise I w-won’t h- hurt you.”

That night, you went to sleep, petrified of the monster sleeping behind you

[zafirosreverie]

Little bird (Agatha x Vampire!reader) part 7

“Agatha Harkness, get your coward ass up here this instant or I swear I’m gonna burn you at the stake myself!” You yelled. 

“Then go ahead, because I’m not doing it!” Your girlfriend yelled back from the basement. 

You groaned as you turned to the baby who was looking at you. It was Agatha’s turn to change her, but of course she ran away and locked herself in the basement. It was childish, to be honest, but you have been taking care of the little devil almost by yourself! Well, she wouldn’t get away this time. 

You carefully took the baby, who giggled and rested her head on your shoulder, and quickly went downstairs to the basement’s door.

“I understand you being afraid of hurting her” you said, kicking the door “I can accept you not wanting to carry her” you kicked the door again “I can accept you not wanting to feed her!” another kick “But you’re not getting away from this!”

You kicked the door one last time, making it fall to the floor. Agatha blinked and stepped back when you growled. The baby laughed again and you walked to the other woman, cornering her and not letting her run away. 

“Love-” she started but you weren’t having it.

“Take her” you said and she gulped. “Take her, Harkness” you growled.

The witch sighed and reached for the baby, who babbled and looked between you two before throwing herself into Agatha’s arms.

“I don’t know how to do it, Y/N” she said

“I’ll help, but the next time you run like that, I’m gonna kill you myself” you frowned. 

She sighed but nodded, following you upstairs. 

_____________

It was worth it. It was totally worth it. 

You laughed as you watched Agatha fighting the baby, who kept trying to escape. Due to your little fight with your girlfriend, the baby was dirty for a long time and you decided that giving her a bath was the best option. She needed it anyway.

The girl had grown rapidly in recent weeks, going from being a newborn to looking like a 6-month-old baby, allowing her to battle the woman trying to bathe her.

“Be still, little demon” Agatha growled, but the baby just giggled and splashed her. “I’m this close to commit an infanticide” 

You laughed again as she tried to keep the baby still so she could wash her hair. It didn’t work. The baby just moved and patted the witch’s cheek, babbling and trying to get on her feet. 

“awww, she wants to stand! This is an important moment in every mother’s life, little bird” you teased and Agatha gave you a death glare. 

“Doesn’t she know that we witches eat naughty children?” She groaned “I don’t have enough hands for this shit”

You laughed louder before you finally took pity on her and kneeled by her side. 

“Let me help you, birdie” you said

“Took you sometime, love” she rolled her eyes.

Half an hour later, you two ended pretty wet but the baby was dry, clean and happy. Good for her. You left her on the bed while you two changed your clothes, but the little devil was curious and naughty and almost fell over the edge of the bed. Fortunately, Agatha managed to jump and grab her leg, avoiding the accident.

"Are you sure you don't want baby soup?" she asked as she put the baby back in the center of the bed.

You turned around to see a cute image. Agatha was sitting in the corner, in just her underwear, not having had time to put something on before jumping to the girl's rescue, and the baby quickly settled into her lap. You chuckled. 

“I’ve gotta admit, motherhood suits you, darling” you said and she rolled her eyes.

“Give me something to put on, Y/L/N” she growled. 

You chuckled again and gave her a dress before you took the baby and left the room to make the dinner. 

Agatha sighed as she dressed and lost herself in her thoughts. She had to admit that you seemed happier with that baby than she has ever seen you, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t like the little demon too. But a part of her was still afraid. Afraid that the girl would be taken away from you. Not by her family, because you had looked for them and discovered that they were all dead. But there was so much that could go wrong, what if the hunters found you and killed you both? What if the baby gets sick and dies? What if she hurts her? What if she wasn’t a good mother?

Agatha didn’t want to be like...well, like Evanora. She didn’t want to put that baby through that. But you seemed so happy, and she didn’t have the heart to tell you how much it hurt her when you referred to yourself or her as the baby’s mothers. 

“Birdie! Dinner is ready!” you called from the kitchen and she sighed again, trying to ignore the fear on her heart. 

You smiled when Agatha appeared on the door. The baby babbled and extended her tiny arms to her, wanting to be carried by the witch. The woman smiled but didn’t take her, walking around you and taking the plate from you. You frowned as the baby growled. 

“Are you ok?” you asked

“Yes, love” she lied. 

You knew she wouldn’t say anything else at the moment, so you didn’t push, but kept looking at her the whole dinner.

____________

“Okay, I put the little devil to sleep” you smiled and got on the bed, lying down right next to your girlfriend. 

Agatha sneaked an arm around your waist and pulled you closer, kissing your nose quickly and just enjoying the feeling of you in her arms. She knew you were going to ask her, and she knew she couldn’t lie to you, but she wanted you to know how much she loved you before having the conversation. 

You saw the fear in her baby blue eyes, and you wished you could do something, but she needed to talk to you for that. Taking her hand to your mouth, you kissed her knuckles and waited for her to be ready. 

“I’m sorry” she whispered after a few minutes

“For what?” you asked and frowned

“I-I'm not cut out to be a mother, Y/N” she whispered “I’m sorry, it's just-”

“You don’t want her” you said. It wasn’t a question, but there wasn’t a judgment in your tone.

“I-I don’t know” she whispered. 

It broke her heart to look at your eyes. You weren’t mad at her, you were just...sad. And it was because of her. 

“I don’t want to force you to accept something you don’t want, birdie” you said and caressed her cheek.

Agatha saw your tears rolling down your cheeks and she started to regret telling you this at all. She hated herself at that moment. 

“But you want her” she said and you nodded. 

“I-I think it would be better if i sleep with her tonight” you said and quickly got out of the bed. 

“Y/N” she called for you but you were already leaving the room. 

The witch sighed and felt her own tears rolling down her face. 

______________

A week later, you still haven’t slept with her again. It felt like when you were afraid of hurting her after the blood incident, but worse. Because this time, you were afraid of her. She noticed how you tried to keep the baby as far as you could from her. When she entered a room, you would take the girl and leave, whispering an apology and breaking her heart. 

You never let her carry the baby, nor asked for her help again. You were protecting the little vampire from her. Or at least that’s how it felt like. She never saw any of you for more than a few seconds, no matter how hard she tried, and you refused to talk to her about it. It hurted so much knowing she pushed you away like this, and she didn’t know what to do to win you back. 

She spent her time in the basement, trying to practice her spells, but she would often find herself lost in her thoughts of you and the baby. She was being honest when she said she wasn’t ready to be a mother, but it didn’t mean she hated the little demon. In fact, she missed her too. The memory of the baby resting her head on her chest when you were traveling on the train, and the one of the bath, always made her smile. 

“You’re an idiot, Harkness” she whispered to herself “the biggest idiot ever”

She loved you, more than anything, and she wanted to have a family with you. But she was scared. Scared that she would end up like her mother, pushing her daughter to the edge, hurting her and making her hate her.

That morning, when you were making breakfast, she went to the baby’s room and tried to talk to her. But the baby didn’t pay attention to her, she didn’t reach for her like she used to do, nor tried to hold her finger. She didn’t know who she was anymore.

“You already failed as a mother” a voice whispered in her mind and she knew it was the truth. She ran to her room and locked herself in. It was a horrible realisation. 

You knocked on the door a few times, but she never opened. She could hear the baby on your arms and she just wasn’t ready to face both of you. You left her food outside the room but she didn’t eat. It wasn’t until midnight that the witch finally unlocked the door and stepped out.

“I’m sorry, little devil” Agatha heard you whispering as she approached the baby’s room. “I’m really, really sorry” 

She could tell you were crying. Carefully, she opened the door a little, enough to see you lying on the floor, with the baby lying in front of you. You were caressing her cheek and kissed her head. The girl was too still, as if she knew something was happening. 

“I love you, little one, I really do” you sobbed “But I love her too. With all my being...and it’s tearing me apart having to choose between you two”

The witch quietly gasped. She didn’t want you to choose between the two! She just wanted you to know how she felt. 

“She has been with me for a long time, Sissy, and i owed her so much” you continued “I-I can’t imagine a life without her” you admitted “And until last week, I couldn’t imagine a life without you either...But i have to let you go, little one”

No. You couldn’t be saying that. The witch didn’t want to believe it. You just couldn’t be-

“I choose her. It will always be her, Sissy...I’m sorry” you cried “I had the hope she would love you as much as i do, but she doesn’t. And i can’t force her to do it. I don’t want to give you away, but I have to. I promise you, that the parents i found for you, are good, and would love you like i do”

The what?! Agatha felt a chill creep up her spine. That’s what you were doing? Finding new parents for her? Why didn’t you tell her?! It was her baby too, she should have a say in the whole thing!

Except ... she already had. The moment she said she didn't know if she wanted the girl, she had sealed everything. This was her fault. 

“I love you Sissy” you whispered again, crying when the baby reached out for you.

Sissy.

Agatha’s eyes widened. You named her. You already had a name for her! She was yours! And she was forcing you to give her away!

“She chose you over her” Her mind whispered “She’s giving up her dream for you”

That was true. You had told her about your first children, a boy and a girl. You told her how much you loved them and how you tried to save them, but you were still a young vampire and were weak, so you couldn’t do anything for them when the men came and killed them. You had told her that you wanted a second chance. She had held you in her arms that night, letting you cry on her chest and whispered a promise on your hair. She promised you that you would be a mother again, and that she would be by your side, that you would watch your own children grow up and would make sure they were safe and sound. 

And here she was, breaking that promise and taking away your second chance. 

“I’ll hold you close to my heart, little one” you promised and stood, leaving the baby on the floor. 

That’s when Agatha noticed the runes on the floor. You were going to open a portal to send the baby away. And you planned to do it when you thought she was asleep.

You were tired, really tired and you just wanted to take the baby in your arms, hug her and keep her safe. You were lying, there weren’t any parents waiting for her. You’ll just send her to the void. It hurted your heart, but there wasn’t a safe place for her in the world, not with all the hunters out there. You didn’t hear Agatha entering the room until she gasped.

“Y/N wait!” She yelled at the same moment you said:

“Goodbye, Elizabeth”

[fanficbitch]

Spencer Reid // Night Terrors

The cold floor sends chills through my body. The fact that the floor is sticky with my blood does not make it any better.

I try to remember how to got here, but my memory is blocked. I try to push myself off the ground only to realize I am chained to a large pipe supporting the room. I lean against the pipe the best I can and try to take a self inventory. I pat my right hip and realize that my gun is missing. I tap my left back pocket and discover that my badge and credentials are missing. Great. Next, I do the part I’m most scared for. I slowly move  my hand to my head to assess how bad the damage is. There is at least a two inch long cut along my forehead, but it doesn’t seem too deep which is good.

Next, I look around me to see where I am. From the dripping water and amount of pipes, I assume I am in a basement or cellar. I try to think as hard as I can and truly cannot remember how I got here.

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and instinctively clutch the pole tighter. He stands at least 10 feet in front of me, but I can somewhat make out his features. He has shoulder length dirty blonde hair with a matching beard. He is very tall and bulky. I couldn’t take him on even if I was in my best shape. He tilts his head and smiles at me. “Good, you’re awake,” he says then steps closer to me. “I brought you some food,” he says then places a paper plate with a sandwich in front of me.

“I’m not hungry,” I murmur.

He shrugs. “Fine, suit yourself,” he says then turns around to go back up the steps.

“Wait!” I yell and he stops. “What am I doing here?”

“Oh, you don’t remember?” he laughs. “From what I put together, you went on a solo mission to come get me. I got that from your FBI vest-,”

I look down at my chest and realize my vest is missing. Shit.

“I anticipated that you did not realize how strong I would be so I overtook you fairly quickly,” he says. “Anyway, now you’re my bargaining chip to get some things before I ditch town.”

“They won’t cooperate with you,” I spit at him.

“The FBI? Oh, they already have. My supplies are on their way.”

“You think that you can get some supplies and just disappear?” I ask. “That we won’t find you again?”

“I’m smarter than you think,” he says, his tone shifting. 

“Really? I found you all by myself and I’m just a little girl.”

This clearly upset him because he starts to contort his face. I decide to egg him on even more. 

“And my team will find a way to overtake you. They always do.”

“Not this time sweetheart,” he barks.

“I’m sure they’re surrounding the house as we speak,” I say and he scoffs. 

“I’d know better.”

“Would you? Because you seem pretty stupid to me,” I say which sets him off the edge. He pulls out a gun and points it directly at my head. I only take a quick look at it, but that’s all I need to realize it’s mine.

“Well I have your gun. Could a stupid person do that?” he asks.

“If you kill me, how will you get your things?”

“As long as they get your body they’ll be happy,” he says then prepares to shoot me.

                                                       **********

I wake up breathing so hard that I am nearly choking and I am covered in cold sweat. I clutch my sheets to gain some form of reality as I catch my breath.

Even though it has been over a week and the wounds are healing, the memories from my capture appear in my mind nearly every night. Tonight was worse than normal. It went up all the way to where he was about to pull the trigger.

Reliving these moments is taking a toll on me. I can’t sleep or work properly. What I really need to do right now is talk to someone. But it’s the middle of the night, I think no one I know is awake. Except for maybe one person.

I grab my phone off my nightstand and press his contact. It only takes two rings for him to pick up. “Y/N?” Spencer asks.

“Spence? Wow, I’m relieved you’re up,” I say.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m just-,” I try to say. “I’m having a hard time.”

“Nightmares?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “How did you know?”

“I’ve been there.”

“What do you do to make it go away?”

“It just takes time,” he tells me.

“That is not the answer I was hoping for,” I say. There is a silence on the line which reminds me it is the middle of the night and I really shouldn’t be bothering Spencer. “Um, thanks Spence. I’ll see you at work,” I say and hang up before he can respond.

                                                      **********

I decided to make myself a cup of tea in an attempt to relax. I bounce the tea bag up and down as there is a knock at my door. Anyone with common sense wouldn’t open the door in the middle of the night. But me, I go to grab my gun, take a deep breath then open the door.

“Geez Y/N,” Spencer yelps as he throws his hands up.

“Spencer, what are you doing here?” I say as I lower my weapon.

“I figured you’d be up for a while so I thought I’d keep you company,” he says as he steps inside my apartment.

“Oh, that’s actually really sweet,” I say slowly. “I was actually about to go up to bed.”

“Okay,” Spencer says. I grab my tea and he begins to follow me down the hall.

“Spencer Reid, are you coming to my bedroom?” I ask once I stop at my door.

“If you’ll let me,” he says. I shrug and open the door which we both walk through.

Once we both settle on separate sides of the bed, Spencer turns to me. “So tell me everything.”

I tell him about my nightmare that has been occurring for the last few nights. He sits on it for a moment before speaking. “I wish I could say it’s going to be easy, but even now I still struggle with what happened to me.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

Spencer holds out his hand which I take. “Just call me whenever you get the nightmares and I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

“Spence, I can’t ask you to be on call like that.”

“You aren’t asking. I’m offering. I want to be here for you,” he says. Tears brim my eyes at his words. With that, Spencer pulls me into his chest while still holding my hand. “That’s what friends are for,” he whispers.

My heart sinks a little at his word choice. It just affirms the point that we are only friends, and that is all we will be. 

[dykesbat]

playlist: you found the treasure chest made by you and your childhood friend (who you’ve lost contact with)

this name is so long agsjdhsh sorry lee

HELL YEAHHHHH!!

1. christmas island by lake "Come along with me / To a place beside the sea / We can wander through the forest / And do so as we please” the childhood memories! the adventures! the happy summers!!

2. day without you by keep for cheap "I don't wanna think about a day without you / Meet me later the midnight rendezvous / And wind and the trees they talk to me / Can't Remember what it's like to be carefree" more childhood memories! but the idea of separation seeps in “i don’t wanna think about a day without you”

3. nonbeliever by lucy dacus "If you find what you're looking for / Be sure to send a postcard / You promised you'd never forget / The little ones when you got big / You deal in unspoken debts / No kindness without wanting something back / What do I owe you? What did I forget? / Or are we even after all of that? / You shook my hand and said goodbye / You'll never let me see you cry again / What good has come from learning to pretend? / You said I could've been a better friend" the friend leaves, an argument ensues. you both realize that despite growing up alongside each other, you’ve both grown to be very very different people. 

4. the gold by manchester orchestra "Couldn't really love you any more / You've become my ceiling / I don't think I love you anymore / That gold mine changed you / You don't have to hold me anymore / Our cave's collapsing / I don't wanna be me anymore” the friendship’s getting taxing on both of your parts, this is your admission to yourself

5. i guess by mitski "I guess this is the end / I'll have to learn to be somebody else / It’s been you and me since before I was me / Without you, I don't yet know quite how to live / If I could keep anything of you / I would keep just this quiet after you / It's still as a pond I am staring into / From here, I can say, 'Thank you'" its been a while and you’re still grieving your friendship but it’s gotten to a place where you can acknowledge it lightly. it’s not exactly all painful anymore. you end up moving out of your hometown.

6. hot & heavy by lucy dacus “Being back here makes me hot in the face / Hot blood in my pulsing veins / Heavy memories weighing on my brain / Hot and heavy in the basement of your parents' place / You used to be so sweet / Now you're a firecracker on a crowded street / Couldn't look away even if I wanted / Try to walk away but I come back to the start” you come back one year to visit your relatives and all the memories and nostalgia come back. you were together for the entirety of your childhood, you can’t help but remember their face everywhere.

7. it all comes back from fun home “It all comes back / It all comes back / It all comes back!There’s you / And there’s me / But now I’m the one who’s forty-three / And stuck / I can’t find my way through! / Just like you / Am I just like you?” you’re in your room and the memories of both of you, childishly playing floods your mind. you wonder, distantly, if you’re still both so different (you wonder if you were ever all that different). you don’t even remember why you fought.

8. pathways by ezra glatt “Oh Avalon, although you'll never hear this song / I just wanted you to know that I'm still here... / ...Do you remember on that road trip / Under the grey Virginia skies? / You told me love is but a weakness / A future heartache in disguise” you spot it in the closet, hidden deep behind clothes and other trinkets, a box you both decorated when you found out about time capsules. your memories held gently like a treasure. you wonder if they think of you, if they have anything physical to remember you by.

9. christmas island by lake "Come along with me / To a cliff under a tree / Where we can gaze upon the water / As an everlasting dream / All of my affections / I give them all to you / Maybe by next summer / We won't have changed our tunes/” you open the box. “maybe by next summer we won’t have changed our tunes” here takes a bittersweet meaning bc we know how the friendship developed

10. old friend by mitski "We nearly drowned / For such a silly thing / Someone who loves me now / Better than you... / ... I haven't told anyone / Just like we promised / Have you? / Every time I drive through the city where you're from / I squeeze a little" you finally remember what you were arguing about. it seems much smaller now. you still wonder about them and make a half-conscious decision to reach out. pen in hand you draft a letter.

11. we'll meet again by vera lynn "So will you please say "Hello" to the folks that I know / Tell them I won't be long / They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go / I was singing this song / We'll meet again / Don't know where, don't know when / But I know we'll meet again some sunny day" you won’t get a response for a while. but something tells you the tale of you and your friend won’t end just there. 

[cupidcreates]

Hi, I hope the last day of 2020 will be a success for you. I have a request for yandere Dabi and / or Chisaki when they hear that their dear, affectionate s/o call them "love" or "happiness of my life"

Affectionate Names

With Yanderes Dabi and Overhaul

(Oh my fucking GOD beech I’m SO SORRY this took LITERAL MONTHS to post. I promise I’m never gonna let an ask sit for that long again holy crap. I really hope this was worth the wait bestie, I tried really hard to make it cute for you nonny. Hope you like it!)

Touya Todoroki - Dabi

Disgust, Anger, Hatred, Fear, Dabi’s used to these emotions playing across the faces of the people he interacts with. He knows how he appears to others, how his very visage causes visceral reactions of discomfort in others. He’s fine with that, in fact he revels in it.

If it’s not the abject loathing of a stranger than it’s the cool detachment of his allies. Dabi finds a sort of warmth, even an odd sense of comfort in their gazes. It’s distant, reserved, and to the point; Dabi never has to question what his allies want from him or what their intentions are.

The indifference many find cold is rather temperate to Dabi. 

The fair weather is what he likes. Nothing too cold, nothing too hot, nothing can be resurrected from mild memories.

Dabi was content with this treatment.

Until he met you.

It had been a long time since anything stoked the kind of fire in his chest like you did. Heat typically coincided with anger, but you didn’t make him angry.

That’s not to say he didn’t mistake it for anger at first. He definitely wanted you dead, seemingly at random, for a few days after seeing you pass by him on the street.

But after a while of reflection he realized you didn’t ignite his hate the way thoughts of his family, his father, or society did.

No, this was a completely different feeling, something brand new.

Something to be explored, immediately.

There was something about you he needed, something you had that he had to get for himself.

And Dabi’s not one to not get his way.

He set out to have you, and have you he did. It took longer than he might have liked (though, anything but immediate compliance is too long for Dabi) and you put up a better fight than he would have expected but he did eventually get you swept away from your previous life.

In his mind he won you over.

In your mind, and in reality, he stole you away from your home in the dead of night and trapped you in an undisclosed location until you eventually broke and developed Stockholm syndrome.

After all, he wasn’t mean to you. He kept you fed and watered, the basement stayed a nice mild temperature, and the rats that scuttled about were actually kind of cute when you looked at them the right way.

You were eventually happy, which is what Dabi wanted as it finally allowed him to get close to you.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted from you. He’d started by simply sitting by your side (once you had calmed down enough to let him do so without screaming) then he progressed to holding you (awkward as it was at first) and once he could trust that you wouldn’t run off he allowed you free roam of the hideout.

Free roam as in you were attached to his hip.

He brought you nearly everywhere, as if he was a child and you were his favorite stuffed bear. He wasn’t sure why he felt he needed you around, but he figured he’d find out if he gave it enough time.

And it’s not like you were trouble, you were actually very helpful, getting him out of more than a few scrapes and sticky situations.

He eventually surmised that this, whatever you two had going on, was something like the affection he missed out on in his youth. It was nice to hold your hand, nice to sit you in his lap as he listened to Shigaraki drone on about his next plan, nice to spend a night with you on the rooftops. 

The time he spent with you didn’t strike a chord in him like his first encounter with you did, but he was content.

He could only ever be content.

He didn’t need anything stronger than baseline serenity.

Or so he thought.

He thought right up until the night he was sitting alone in his room (room being a generous term for the hovel hole in the wall he kept his nearly flattened mattress in) dissociating after a very long day.

Dabi tried not to dissociate frequently, it was best to stay aware of your surroundings when you’re a wanted criminal, but when he did allow himself to fall into this state he was typically here for hours. Nearly comatose as he fled back into his mind.

You knocking softly at the door went completely unnoticed, in fact he didn’t even realize you were there until you had entered the room and sat next to him on the mattress.

Your presence took him completely by surprise and shocked him out of his stupor. It took him a moment to recover his composure and re-mask, and in those several seconds with his guard down you saw Dabi’s face more youthful and innocent than you ever had.

You’d asked him a question, he was aware of that much, but the only thing he caught, the only thing he registered was the word at the very end of your sentence.

“Are you okay, love?”

Love

Rather forcefully Dabi was taken back to his childhood; before his quirk manifested, before his siblings were born to replace him, before his own family turned on him in favor of his youngest brother. It had been so long since someone had called him love; so long since his mother would come into his room early in the morning and brush his bangs out of his face, softly calling to him to wake him up and ready him for the day.

Having already been in a vulnerable state, the name cut through him like a knife. Shaken to his core by the memories ripped fresh in his mind he was, for the first time in his life, grateful that his tear ducts had been burned away so long ago.

He gave nothing away, his face already masked up again and his demeanor its typical cool indifference. He spoke to you as he always had, the tremble in his voice only perceptible to him.

He pushed his head into your shoulder and was silent for a while, just taking in you presence, before offhandedly telling you that he didn’t mind if you called him that again. In private of course.

Love

He thought he could get used to that.

Kai Chisaki - Overhaul

Open affection was not only not necessary in Chisaki’s life but also abjectly disgusting.

Perhaps he never really had good examples of tender kindness and open endearment as a child. Maybe he simply couldn’t comprehend affection in the way others could.

In any case, physical fondness and other such displays of the sentiment were completely foreign to Chisaki.

He didn’t mind this, he had much more pressing matters to attend to. Having a partner of any sort other than business would only slow him down.

Oh but you just had to come along, didn’t you? Had to go nosing around where you didn’t belong, a foolish venture already, and then you had to be incompetent's enough to get yourself caught waist deep in his business.

It didn’t matter, you didn’t matter, whatever you knew about what he was doing didn’t mean a damn thing. All he had to do now was keep you quiet.

For good.

He had to kill you, this much he knew. He’d have no issue doing it, after all who were you anyway? A nosy little cashier at a run-down shop on the brink of bankruptcy. You had no family, if you did they certainly didn’t care about you if the state of and neighborhood your apartment was located in was anything to go by.

You were a threat to the sanctity of his mission, a potential interference to his operation. Simply put you had to go. This was fine, nothing personal. Just business.

But oh you just had to didn’t you? Had to look at him with the most pathetically pleading eyes he’s ever seen as you begged him to let you live. You already knew what he was up to, undoubtedly you understood the torture and death he willingly inflicted upon others. You knew the pleading would do you no good, surely you knew your death was inevitable.

Except that it wasn’t, was it.

Because you had to, you had to come along with a face too sweet to be atomized. Had to, somehow, worm your way into his brain and stop him from dismantling your upper body.

Was this your quirk? Were you somehow influencing him? It had to be something of your doing, the tightness in his chest and warmth in his stomach was something of your doing.

He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bring himself to destroy something so precious, so pure even. He just couldn’t do it.

But no obstacle comes without workarounds, and he didn’t have an underground labyrinth of empty rooms to not be used.

So if killing you was out of the picture, his only recourse was to keep you hidden away. At least long enough for him to figure out a permanent solution for you.

Living toys are so much more fun to play with anyway.

He kept you holed up in a secret room, watched your every move as months passed. You were very interesting to him, in fact he found almost all of his (precious little) spare time consumed by you. He made sure to visit you daily, though your fear kept you mostly mute at the beginning.

Once you were sure he wasn’t going to obliterate you, he noticed you relaxed and even opened up a little bit. You even allowed him to touch you gently a few times and, to his surprise, he never broke out after his skin made contact with yours.

He figured you must have been sent to him, by some divine or cosmic intervention. You grew on him quickly and he made sure to pamper you in any way he could, moving you to a larger, more luxurious wing of the lair and making sure you had three meals a day of only the best quality food.

One morning he’d decided to visit you earlier than usual, walking down the long hallway towards your room and considering the topic of conversation today.

As he neared your room he overheard you speaking with the associate assigned to your meal delivery today. Pausing just outside the door he caught the tail end of your conversation.

“...so lonely until Chisaki visits. The room is lovely but he’s truly the only happiness of my rather dull life.”

Chisaki considered this for a moment. Perhaps it was a clever deception? Something for him to intentionally overhear and cause him to lower his guard?

Couldn’t be though, he’d never visited you this early, if you wanted to deceive him you’d have waited until your evening meal to speak these words.

A sudden, rather disconcerting warmth overtook Chisaki; Like a flower of light suddenly blooming in his chest he was overtaken by the urge to abandon everything and stay by your side until he withered away and his bones turned to dust.

Regaining his sanity he shook the thought from his head. He’d worked too hard for too long to let go of this now. No, he’d have to continue with his operation, the consequences of letting go now would be too great.

He was, however, sorry to hear that your life thus far had been dull. Had you said this months ago he would have scoffed, because of course the life of a cashier was dull; but now, after months of you having been here, it should have improved.

The only assumption left for him to make was that this must have been his doing. Fair enough on his part, as he couldn’t be sure trusting you was a wise idea.

But if this was how you truly felt about him, maybe he could consider letting you have greater roam of the property. He might even allow you time outside.

Only if you brought your happiness along, of course.

[thatsgay-writes]

Elle Greenaway x Reader

Summary: Elle makes a shocking discovery after they catch an unsub. (Follows along season 1 episode 7)

Warning: Criminal Mind stuff

The reader is given a name, for certain purposes and it is third person on purpose.

Word Count: 2.5k

Dr. Thomas Fuller wrote, “with foxes, we must play the fox.”

---

“Bad?” Agent Hotchner asks as Elle handed him a folder. “The worst.” Elle responds as they head to the round table room. Gideon stood in front of a board as he looked at all of the images. “Crawford family. Murdered 3 days ago.” He says just as Derek walked in, “Saw it on the news.” He says as he takes a quick look at the board as he walks by. “They were found in the basement of their house...” Gideon says, still staring at the images. “Bags packed for a vacation they never took.” JJ continues for him. “Report said it was a murder/suicide. The father stabbed the mom, then shot himself.” Derek says as he sits down, still not fully sure as to why they were taking it as a case. “That’s the conclusion the Maryland State police came to. The gun was next to the father, he had gunpower residue on his right hand.” JJ states as she states a few things listed on the report in front of her. “And now you must have some compelling reason to think that Chris Crawford didn’t off his family?” Derek asks, looking to JJ for a response. “Yeah. Another murdered family. The Millers-- found a month ago. The mother, Reese Miller, her two children and her new husband. Again, they were found in the basement and like the Crawford's, their suitcases were packed for a vacation.”

---

“Elle!” Bailey yelled as she ran towards her girlfriend. Elle Greenaway and Bailey Woods had been friends since Kindergarten, both managing to stay in the same school all the way through middle school and up to high school. In 8th grade, they both finally confessed the feelings they held for each other. “Bailey?” Elle asked in concern as she watched her girlfriend run up to her, tears visibly rolling down her face. “Bailey, baby, what’s wrong?” Elle asked as she scooped the younger girl, by a few months, into her arms. “Did someone do something? Tell me who and we can beat them up together.” Elle said, semi-seriously. You just shook your head as you held onto her shirt tightly. It was the week before Junior year ended, the only tears falling from your face should be happy ones. “What happened?” Elle asked concerned, you had never acted like this before. She knew it couldn’t have anything to do with your dad since he was home for the next few months.

Elle made a split second decision and led you out of the school before any of the teachers could notice. “C’mon, let’s go.” She said to you as she opened the passenger door to your car. She had taken the keys from your pocket, knowing you were in no condition to drive. As she drove to your secret spot, you managed to calm down some and were taking deep breaths to calm all the way down. Elle parked in one of the parking spots at the top of the abandoned parking garage and turned off the car. “Can you tell me what’s wrong now?” She asked as she reached over the middle section and grabbed your hand. You took a few more deep breaths before looking up at her, heartbreak shone through your eyes. “I’m moving.”

---

Elle stood outside the interrogation room as she watched Reid talk to Eric Miller. “Is that what this is about, hmm? You think I’m crazy, man? You think I suddenly snapped and slaughtered my own wife and kids?” Eric kept asking questions as he got more and more agitated. “You think I did this? Huh? Is that what you think!?” Eric yelled as he suddenly stood up. Elle looked to Hotch with wide eyes before they entered the room. “Sit down.” Hotch told Eric firmly. Reid was the youngest on the team and it was his first time doing an interrogation solo, so Elle and Hotch were a little protective over him. “Is this your daddy?”

--- South East Washington D.C

Elle sat quietly in her seat as she sat in the back seat of the car as they drove towards the address Hotch and Garcia had found while snooping through the Crawford’s financials. Reid and Hotch both shared a look at the unusually quiet Elle. Usually when in the car, she would be looking over a file or talking to others to understand more about the case but tis time she was just staring out a window. “Is... Um, is everything okay?” Reid asked, his voice going a little high at the end of his question. His question shook Elle out of whatever she was thinking about, “Yeah... Maryland just brings back some memories...” You’ve been here before?” Hotch asks, concerned about the other agent but also making sure that nothing would intervene with the case they were working on. Elle sat silently for a few seconds before answering right as they pulled up to their destination, “No.”

“Federal Agents!” “FBI” “Federal Agents!” “Clear!” Hotch, Elle, and Derek all yelled simultaneously as they busted through the front door of the home. Elle scrunched her nose in disgust at the sight of the home, “Cleanest thing in here...” She muttered as she kicked what looked like an empty dog bowl. She stayed at the front of the house with Gideon and Reid as Derek and Hotch went deeper into the home. She watched with a questioning gaze as Gideon walked over to the wall and picked up a single painting that was hanging. “What’s that?” She asked as Gideon looked down at the drawing. “It’s a child’s painting. It’s a colonial house. Mom, dad, 2 children out front holding hands.” Gideon listed what he saw. “And a big dog.” She states as she looks over his shoulder.

---

Bailey and Elle laid together in her bed, the end of summer coming faster than ever before. She and Elle had spent almost all their time together, going on dates, spending nights at each other’s houses, etc. Anywhere Elle went, Bailey were there, and anywhere Bailey went, Elle was there. Right now the two of them were laying in Bailey’s bed watching T.V. “Stop staring at me.” Elle mumbles as she stares at the television. Bailey lets out a breath of air and rolls her eyes with a groan, “Love meeee, I want attentionnnnn.” She draws out causing Elle to playfully roll her eyes in response. “Fine, come here.” Elle says as she opens her arms out for Bailey to lay in. Bailey plays with Elle’s hair as she laid her head on her girlfriends chest. “I want kisses...” “Bailey repeats over and over again, like a chant. “Geez, someone is clingy today.” Elle states as she sits up and leans back against the wall. Bailey shifted around so she was now straddling Elle. “I leave in 3 weeks... I just wanna kiss my girlfriend.” Bailey pouts as Elle finally gives in. “Okayyyy.” She says with fake annoyance.

Bailey and Elle were deep into a make out session when her door suddenly busted open. “Eww!” “Ezra!” Bailey yelled as her sister covered her eyes with her arms. “Eww! Not you too! Mommy and daddy were doing that too!” The 5 year old yelled causing Bailey to laugh. Bailey gets off of Elle’s lap and picks up her little sister. “Aww,” Bailey says with a fake pout, “Do you feel left out?” Bailey starts kissing all over Ezra’s face causing the little girl to giggle and try to get away. “No! Eww! Stop it!” Ezra yells as she gets out of Bailey’s hold and pretends to rub away the kiss in fake disgust. Bailey just rolls her eyes at her sisters action. “C’mon, let’s go see if Benson is awake. We’ll be right back Elle.” Bailey says over her shoulder as she and Ezra leave the room. Elle laid back on Bailey’s bed as she left the room, staring at the ceiling. All she could think about was how in love with the younger girl she was.

Her train of thought got cut off as a small body was laid on top of hers. Elle immediately moved her arms to hold him and make sure he didn’t fall off of her. “Hey buddy...” She said in a baby voice as Bailey laid down next to her and pulled her into her. Bailey let out a groan as Ezra jumped on top of her before snuggling up. “Alright... What do you want to watch?”

---

“Okay. No, I understand. Yeah, I figured as much. Thank you.” Derek says as he gets off the phone. “He’s been staring at those pictures all morning.” Elle states as she stares at Gideon who is staring at the drawings done by the murdered children. “well, I sure hope he sees a connection cause I’ve checked doctors, lawyers, travel agents, tutors, contract workers. I got nothing.” Derek says as Hotch walks by. “Why target those families?” Elle wonders still watching Gideon. “Well, to know that, we have to know how.” Hotch says as he sits down and continues looking at the file in his hands.

“ We know organized killers are often skilled workers with above-average intelligence. High birth status. And in most cases...male. In the workplace, he's socially confident. And with women...sexually confident. Every offense...is preplanned. Targeting the victim is almost as pleasurable as the actual kill. These guys, they're...they're meticulous. It's a compulsion. Everything has to have its proper place. They do exhaustive amounts of research on their victims. They watch their every move every last detail is observed. Everything has to be written ever so neatly in a book or possibly a journal. When the kids are comin' home from school. When daddy'll be home. Playtime. Suppertime. Bath time. Bedtime. Plan the work...work the plan. This is the way that he maintains control. It's also how he personalizes his target... So nothing's left to chance. Absolutely nothing... Is left out of place, ever. So he plans the work... And when he's good and ready, he works that plan. He takes great pride in his job. I think the workplace has to be the connection.” Derek says as they go over everything they have learned about the unsub.

Gideon walks out of the room he was in with two drawings in his hands. He holds both the pictures up side by side. “Both are by Emily, painted months apart.  This one...is full of color, life. The one I found at Emily's house has lines, dimensions. No color. I believe Emily was coerced to make this. It's a point of view. It is his point of view. This is where the killer stood, just watched the family.” Gideon says after having finally figured out the connection of the paintings to the case. Hotch drops a ring on the desk he was leaning on, letting it spins some before picking it up. “Each of the dead husbands was missing his wedding ring. This is the unsub’s trophy.”

---

Bailey and Elle sat on the edge of the cliff at their special place. Trying to soak up as much time as they could before Bailey had to leave in a few hours. “I can’t believe you’re leaving...” Elle state as she leans her head against Bailey’s shoulder. “We had everything planned out too...” She trails off, looking at the scenery in front of her. “Hey don’t speak like that...” Bailey says as she holds Elle’s face in her hands. “It’s just one school year apart and then we will go to college together like we planned.” Bailey states before she pauses. “Look, I’m going to make you a promise, okay?” Elle raised an eyebrow at Bailey skeptically, promises were a big thing for Bailey, she never broke them. Bailey lets go of Elle’s face and pulls a ring from her pocket. “No before you freak out, this is my dad’s ring.” Bailey says with a slight laugh as she watches Elle’s eyes get big before returning to normal. “Now, you know me and my dad are close... When I was 5 and he got sent on the first deployment I remember, I cried like a baby for weeks on end. It actually got so bad my mom had to take me out of school one time.” Bailey says with a smile as she stares down at the ring in her hand.

“When dad came back and heard about it, he got his ring modified.” Elle watches with slight confusion as Bailey slid the ring a certain way and it split in half. “And now, whenever he gets deployed, I get this half of the ring so I always have a piece of him with me.” Bailey continues her story as she puts the larger part of the ring on a chain. “It’s obviously too big to fit on my ringer so mom bought a chain to put it on.” Bailey says as she puts the chain around Elle’s neck and closes the clasp. “I asked my dad and he said it was okay for me to give my part to you so you know that I am always with you and thinking about you.” Bailey says as she gives Elle a goofy smile. Elle tries to cover her crying but lets a few tears slip. “Hey, it’s okay...” Bailey says as she pulls the girl she loves into a hug. “Senior year will be over before you know it and we’ll be back together again.”

---

The group all sits around the table in silence as Gideon stares into the box that Hotch had found in Karl Arnold’s office. Everyone’s heart dropping as Gideon lets the contents of the small box drop and 8 rings fall onto the table. Every sat in silence feeling remorse for whatever families had lost their life’s to Dr. Arnold. Elle takes a moment to look at each ring and feels herself get nauseous at the sight of one ring that looks a little different from the others. It can’t be... She thinks as she slowly reaches out, ignoring the looks from her friends, and grabs the ring that made her feel sick. She takes a minute to study the ring, her heart beating faster at how familiar it is. She can feel her friends and coworkers staring at her in confusion, wanting to know why she had picked up the ring.

Elle reach's into her shirt a little and pulls out a ring of her own. The group shares a confused look, wondering where the ring had came from and how long she had had it. Elle takes it off the chain and slides the two rings together like she had seen you do ten years ago. The clicking sound it made not only signifying the two rings becoming one but also her heart breaking into two. Elle looks up to see Hotch and Gideon looking at her with a worried face, it was obvious that Elle knew who that ring belonged to. Seeing her friends face’s filled with sorrow was enough for the dam to break and the tears to flow.

---

“Elle! Guess what!” Bailey yelled excitedly into the phone as Elle picked up. Elle laughed at her excitement. “What?” “I get to go on vacation tomorrow!”

[whumpingcrow]

Pt. 17 "Pet Show"

CW: unconscious whumpee, low self worth, creepy/intimate whumper, drugs/alcohol (explicit), injury mention/descritption, past torture mention, tics/tourrettes, gaslighting/emotional whump, pet whump, whumpee wearing a collar, dubcon (explicit), noncon (descriptive, explicit, 18+ please), multiple whumpers (let me know if I missed anything!)

Elias woke up in a soft bed, legs tangled up in thick, pleasantly warm blankets. He felt groggy and heavy, like he'd been underwater for years. He looked up at the window next to him, at the bright light shining through and the trees swaying softly in the breeze. When he sat up, he felt a dull pain in every limb, every inch of his body, and he whined loudly. He had to remind himself where he was, in France with August, but he couldn't remember the last thing that happened before falling asleep. He was in chains, August had a bat...he had a taser, at some point...what next? What caused all this horrible, gnawing pain?

He pushed himself out of bed, sighing as he tried to stretch out his tense muscles without hurting himself. He looked around the room, at how neat it was, at the expensive looking furniture and the lavish sheets. It felt wrong, too nice, like it was wasted on him.

"August?" He called out as he padded down the hallway. His voice came out raspy and broken up like he'd swallowed glass. At this point he wouldn't be surprised if that'd happened, with everything else August had done to him. When he got out to the living room, August was standing up and rushing toward him, a bright smile spread across his face. Elias stopped in his tracks, he didn't think he'd ever seen anyone, especially August, look so happy to see him.

"You're awake!" He breathed. "I was starting to worry about you. How do you feel?"

Elias shrugged, holding his breath when August closed in on him. He didn't look mean or threatening, but Elias didn't want to let his guard down too much, just in case. "I'm sore, is all." He was lying of course, he was nervous and confused and in so much pain it made him feel ages older, but August looked worried enough. He shouldn't be worried, he didn't need to waste his energy.

"You've been out for a few days. My friend said you were just having a rough come down but I...I was really worried." He reached out timidly and stroked Elias's hair out of his face. "You'd wake up for a few minutes at a time and say stuff to me, but you weren't making any sense."

Elias frowned at him. It had been days? That explained the heaviness, the confusion. He stepped forward, until he was pressed against August's chest, and closed his eyes. "I can't remember what happened."

"Well uh...what's the last thing you do remember?" August led him into the living room, holding him close as they sat down.

Elias thought hard for a moment, thinking back to the chains. It was painful to think about, how badly it hurt, how scared he was. He vaguely remembered someone else being there, he remembered being left alone for a long time, he remembered thinking his arm was going to snap off of his body. But he couldn't remember the chains being taken off, or leaving the basement. "Um...we were in the basement. I was chained up and there...there was someone else there with you. That's it."

August sighed at that, a sound of disdain, of disappointment. Elias cowered away a little, terrified of displeasing him. "After that, you didn't want to go to sleep so we did some coke. We went out to the bar, remember that?"

That was right, the sea of bodies, the too loud music and too close strangers. It was overwhelming, even as a memory, and he tried to keep his tics contained when he got nervous. "Yeah, a little."

"Good. That's good, baby." He patted his thigh gently, watching Elias relax at the praise. "After that I took you to a diner. You were upset, you were very tired."

Elias nodded eagerly, now aching, yearning, for more affection, more praise. "Yeah, you were gonna sober up and take me home."

August smiled softly, proud, almost, and reached up to pet his cheek. "That's right, love." He cleared his throat, looking down at his lap. "You fell asleep at the diner, and after I sobered up we went home, and you stayed asleep. But then the next morning you wouldn't wake up, not all the way at least, and not for very long. And the next day either. So I had a friend, he was a doctor for awhile, come look at you, and he said you'd be alright, so I was just waiting it out."

Elias frowned at how pained his voice sounded, how he seemed actually, truly, concerned for his well being. "I'm ok now, August. Don't look so sad. Please."

August smiled sadly at him, nodding dismissively. "I have something for you," he said suddenly, standing up, "wait here, close your eyes."

In spite of himself, Elias smiled softly and did as he was told. He had to admit, it was nice to have August acting so kind, because he knew it was just acting. So maybe it was ok to let himself indulge a little, to allow himself to be spoiled and praised and fawned over like a prize when August wanted to do that. He didn't deserve it, he knew that, but if August could act like he cared, Elias could act like he was worthy of it, act like it didn't make his skin itch in self doubt.

Elias felt the couch sink down next to him when August returned, then flinched hard as something was wrapped loosely around his neck. He should have known, he should have expected that the play-pretend wouldn't last long, that he would hurt him when he was bored again.

"Relax, baby. Not gonna hurt you." He fastened whatever it was around his throat, kissing his jaw softly. "Wow," he breathed, "look at you, Elias. My beautiful boy."

Elias pulled his hands away from his face, brushing his fingertips against the thing August fastened there, confusion written on his face. "What...?" He whimpered.

August pulled him to his feet and led him down the hallway, to a huge, floor length mirror against the wall near the bathroom. Initially, Elias was breathless and speechless at the condition he was in, pale and bruised and sickly. August always made him look and feel like some sort of ghost, sometimes Elias had a story in his head that he had really stayed dead when August choked him and now he was just cursed to haunt him the rest of forever. Except, it felt more like August was the one haunting him, most of the time. Still, sometimes it just made things easier when he told himself things like that, made it all feel less real. But then his focus shifted from how awful he looked to the thing around his neck, leaned closer to inspect it. It was leather, thick against his skin, with a tiny pendant hanging from the end, embedded in jewels. It was a collar, he realized, and his stomach tightened in an uncomfortable, confusing knot.

He was just a pet, he wasn't a human, a person, just like he knew already. He was not on August's level, or anyone else's for that matter, and he shouldn't be loved or cared about in the way a human should be. He existed solely to please others, specifically August, to be used by them, to be fawned over and stroked and paraded around and have stress and anger and pain taken out on him. The collar meant he was owned, he belonged to August, as his plaything.

But on the other hand, it meant August cared about him enough to make him wear his ownership. He belonged to August and he was going to make sure Elias and everyone else knew. In a sick way, the most twisted way imaginable, it reminded him of a wedding band. When he got a closer look, the tag had "Bunny" engraved on it, and he bit his lip. It wasn't even his own name.

"You just look absolutely darling in that, little one." August cooed, slipping his arms around his waist easily, kissing his temple. Elias leaned into his grip instinctively, obediently, and put on a weak, not quite genuine smile.

It was humiliating and scary and wrong, but whatever it took to make August play nice with him, whatever it took for him to touch him so tenderly and say such sweet things, he would do it. It didn't hurt this way, and being humiliated by being lovey dovey with him was a little more bearable than being chained up again. He would do anything to avoid that happening again. "Thank you," he choked out. He tried to sound genuine and appreciative, he truly did, but it felt like he couldn't speak around the collar. It wasn't tight, not tight enough to matter, anyway, but the presence of it around his neck felt the same as a gag.

The way August held him there, kissing on him, pressing close against him, was familiar. Elias realized, he'd been out of it for days now, which meant August hadn't been able to take what he always wanted, at least not from him. And he really hoped not from anyone else. He wondered if he was the first person August had put a collar on. He wondered if he'd put one on Allen, then felt like vomiting when he found himself hoping that he hadn't.

Eager to please, Elias turned toward him and wrapped his arms tight around his neck, brushing their lips together gently. August hummed, hands gripping his hips tightly. "Thank you," he whined again, this time drawn out nice and slow, how he knew August liked to hear it.

"What do you think you're doing, bunny?" August teased him.

I want you to tell me you love me again, he thought, I want you to tell me I'm good and important and worth something, even though I'm not. I want you to lie to me.

"Please touch me," he begged instead, "please." Because he knew he didn't get to want things, because he knew August liked when he begged, because asking to be touched was so much simpler than asking August to pretend that he cared about him.

So August did, he took him back to the bedroom and undressed him, everything was off now but the collar, and touched him until he was shaking, until he was defiled and sensitive and tired. He pushed Elias until it was too much, and then he pushed more. He loved it when Elias was asking to be done and trying to contain his discomfort by biting his tongue, but he liked it even more when he couldn't even help the noises coming out of his pretty mouth, or his body twitched and trembled underneath his hands or a weapon, or tears were streaming down his face helplessly. He was so beautiful, crying out his name and gripping at the sheets desperately.

When it was finally over, Elias was disappointed that he hadn't gotten through it without pain, like the last time. He had hoped that he would please August enough into not hurting him, but he could feel the burns around his wrists from the ropes and he could could feel the bruises on his arms from struggling as he was pinned down, and he could taste blood in his mouth from being hit. Hadn't he been good? He'd been asleep for days, how could he have messed up? Maybe that was it, that he had been asleep for days and August had to wait for him. He couldn't help that, but he knew August didn't care.

He watched from his spot on the mattress as August sat up, reaching over to grab a joint from the bedside table. He lit it up, allowed the smoke to curl around his head. He looked at Elias with a warm smile, then laid back next to him and pressed it to his lips. He didn't ask if he wanted any, he didn't have to, because Elias didn't have the luxury to want. He didn't get to say that he was afraid of being high again, that the idea of falling asleep for days and days again frightened him even more than August did. So he inhaled, and then he felt the familiar haze drape over him. Time slowed a little, his throat burned, the room seemed distant from him, like looking at it through the lens of a camera, not his eyes.

"How's your shoulder?" August checked, his tone actually concerned. Elias didn't know what was going through his head, with all of this back and forth of caring about him and then slamming his fist against his face for no apparent reason.

"What?" Elias coughed.

"Your shoulder. It was bothering you the other day. How is it?"

"Oh. Um...fine." he stretched his arm out, wiggled his fingers to show August. He could see the bruises peppering his skin, and he sighed. He was surprised when August wrapped his fingers tenderly around his wrist, smiling at him.

"You are so beautiful, my angel," he cooed softly, fingers trailing over the injuries on his arm, "my perfect little bunny." Elias was soft and pliable under his grip, but his eyes were wide with apprehension. He was still slightly riding on adrenaline, ready to run or struggle at any second, if August decided he wasn't done with him yet, after all.

"Now that you're awake," he said, sitting up to look at him, "I was going to have some friends over. I figured it would be more fun with you conscious."

Elias frowned; the last time he was introduced to August's friend flashed into his mind, he was reminded of the cold chains and the shock of the taser. He was scared again, and he wanted to tell August that he didn't feel good, that he wanted to just lay in bed and be alone for awhile. He imagined that August would just laugh at him. "I uh...o-ok." He forced a small smile, knowing that if he agreed out front it would save him a world of trouble. August seemed pleased with that, and he sat up with a hum.

"Let's get you looking presentable then, huh?" He remarked, pulling Elias to his unsteady feet.

Elias felt nothing short of a centerpiece, an ornament, arm candy. He was put into a loose white button up, that was only buttoned to his ribs to really show the collar August insisted he kept on, along with a tight pair of black shorts. While August was helping him brush his teeth he had a chance to look over himself in the mirror, and he looked horrible. The older bruises were a green and yellowish hue, while the new ones were bright red, the shade they only stayed for mere hours before blossoming to purples and blues. August made sure to wipe the blood from his face, but he couldn't change the scrapes and cuts that were slowly healing. Not that he seemed to care much, and Elias was sure his friends wouldn't care much either.

Once people started to arrive, Elias was discarded on the couch, watching the flow of expensive looking people come in, grab glasses of wine, laugh and speak with August like they knew him. Elias didn't fit in, he knew that. He was raised from trash, with no family, fending for himself, and now he was sitting here wearing a collar like some sort of animal. He was less than them, and the realization made him want to crawl under the covers and hide away from all of their patronizing gazes.

"Aw, quel mignon petit animal de compagnie." What a cute little pet. Someone was saying a few feet in front of him. He glanced up for a second to see an older woman in an elegant black dress eyeing him, a tall glass of dark wine resting at her hip. He hated the way she looked directly at him, with her thin lips tipped up in a smile. "Tu veux une cigarette, chiot?" You want a cigarette, puppy? She eyed his collar, then quirked an eyebrow up. "Ohh, il est un lapin. Cigarette, lapin? Ou vin?" Oh, he's a bunny. Cigarette, bunny? Or wine?

Elias blinked at her with his wide, nervous eyes, then began to search for August amidst the people. Of course he wasn't anywhere close. He recognized the word cigarette, and when he looked back to the stranger she was moving to sit next to him with one extended. Elias didn't protest as she popped one into his mouth, lighting it up for him. She sat so close to him, her round thighs pressing against his bony, cut up knees.

"Thank you," he whispered after the cigarette was lit, lifting a trembling hand to hold it in between his knuckles. How where his knuckles also bloody? What happened to them?

"Ah, tu es américain?" Ah, you're an american? She mused, trailing her manicured fingers over the bruises on his cheek. "Tu ne parles pas français?" You don't speak french?

Elias chewed at his lip, shaking his head at her to try and get her to understand that he couldn't talk with her, wishing she'd leave him alone when she realized. He began to search for August again, taking a long drag of the cigarette. He wished he could have some booze, but he was too afraid that he'd wake up days later again with no memory of what happened. Elias couldn't decide if it would be better or worse to not remember this strange woman touching him, stroking his injuries like prizes and talking to him in that condescending, playful voice. As he thought it, another hand snuck into view, this one holding a large glass of a dark amber drink, and he looked up to see an older man staring down at him hungrily, shaking the glass at him.

"Petit garçon besoin d'une verre, oui?" Little boy needs a drink, yes? He mumbled to the woman. His voice was gruff and had an edge to it, and Elias was frightened enough by that alone to take the glass that was pushed toward him quickly. He downed some of the bitter drink, chasing it with the cigarette with a grimace. "Il est parfait." He's perfect.

"Oh, oui. Regarde sa bouche." Oh yes. Look at his mouth.

Elias's skin crawled at the way they spoke, their eyes taking him all in, her hands all over his face, poking and prodding and dissecting, almost like they were shopping. He wanted August. He hated that he did, but he couldn't help but ache to be in his sure, strong arms to shield him from their touch. With a huff, he polished off the drink, setting the glass down feather soft on the coffee table.

"Viens, mon cher," come, my dear, the woman spoke, standing up with a sigh. He frowned when one of her long fingers looped through his collar and hoisted him up with her. "Je veux utiliser ta bouche." I want to use your mouth.

"I have to wait-" he gasped, stumbling a little as she dragged him along behind him, "August wanted me on the couch. Please, I have to wait for him." She ignored him, and he could only whimper hopelessly as she shoved him into an empty bedroom in the hallway. She turned the light on as they entered, kicking the door shut behind her. He was mortified when she locked the handle.

He let out a whine when she forced him down onto his knees by his collar, until his cheek was pressed against the soft carpet and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. "Please," he rasped out, trying not to shake in the uncomfortable position she held him in, "st-stop please."

"Ah, chante pour moi, lapin." Sing for me, bunny. She stood up, allowing him to raise his chest only about an inch before her sharp heel dug into his spine and forced him back down. Her drunken giggle rang out seconds after his broken cry of pain. Elias didn't dare struggle against her, but his breathing was coming in hitched, desperate whimpers. He tried to think of the french word for please, for stop, but he knew nothing but "yes" and "thank you", and there were no two terms he wanted to say less just then.

Soon enough she removed her shoe from his back, allowing him to right himself partially. He was looking up at her with a fearful grimace, shoulders rising and falling unevenly. The look on her face was shockingly familiar, Elias had seen it on August countless times. She was drunk on the power she had over him, high on how much control she had over him right then. And August seemed to like when Elias gave himself up just a little more when he was already beyond helpless. It made him a little softer, usually, if Elias played it just right. So he took a shallow, shaking breath, and then he fought the pink blush he knew was on his cheeks when he forced himself to choke out "M...Merci."

"Oh, lapin," Oh, bunny, she moaned, crouching down in front of him and grabbing his face, "très bien ! Bien garçon." Very good! Good boy. She ruffled his hair gently before she stood straight again. She sounded overjoyed, and Elias was relieved that it had worked. He'd done good, thanked her for the humiliation and pain just the way she would like it, and she was happy. For a moment, it looked like she might turn to leave, but then she grabbed a handful of the skirt of her dress and began hiking it up. Elias felt an uneasy sinking in his stomach as he watched her, suppressing a shudder when he realized what was happening.

"I...I can't do that. August would be...would be so upset. Please don't." All of his words fell short on her, and she grabbed at his collar again, pulling him closer. He tried to tip his head away from her, but then her fingers were in his hair and forcing his head forward and he couldn't do anything, he wasn't allowed to say no, he wasn't allowed to fight back. August told him he existed to be used, and she was just using him.

And soon she was moaning, pulling at his collar hard to get him closer, saying things he didn't understand, in a voice that made him feel filthy, and he felt like he was out of his body watching it all unfold. His knees hurt, his neck hurt, his spine was aching. When she finally decided she was done, she shoved him off of her, panting as she dropped her dress. He choked back tears, watching her hopefully. He wished he understood her so she could tell him he'd done well. Had he done well? He wasn't sure, he'd never done that before. Finally, she reached down and wiped his bottom lip gently, smiling. "Attends ici." Wait here.

With that, she turned on her heel and left, shutting the door behind her and leaving him there. He was too afraid to move, staying on his knees with his head tipped downward and eyes squeezed shut. Whatever drink the strange man had given him didn't do enough to quiet the horrible dread in his chest, but at this point he wasn't sure if anything would.

When the door opened again, the woman had returned along with the man from before, and Elias only looked at them for a second before turning his head back down. He didn't want them to look at him, he wanted to be left alone, the closest he would get to that was looking away from them. But they didn't want to just look at him, of course, they wanted to use him, and use him they did. This time he couldn't help the tears streaming down his cheeks or his muffled cries that were overpowered by the aggressive grunts of the man above him. He kept waiting for it to be over, he was clutching at the man's pants sleeves desperately, trying to stop himself from ticcing and taking out a chunk of the foreigner in his mouth.

When they finally stopped and pulled off of him to straighten out their fancy clothes, Elias curled into a little ball on the carpet, arms wrapped around himself to try and stop the small sniffles from escalating into sobs. The two strangers left him there, the door slightly ajar. The nice white shirt August gave him was stained now, his knees were reddened and raw, his jaw hurt. But none of that mattered, did it? He had fulfilled his purpose, twice even, that was what should matter. Elias had obeyed, he'd let himself be used, because that's what he was told he was made for. He hoped he'd been good, that August wouldn't hurt him anymore than he already was. But even as he told himself that, he felt absolutely tainted and ruined and wrong, this was what it felt like to be less than the dirt beneath people's shoes, Elias felt bad, to say the least.

And then, as the door opened and shiny toed black shoes and dress-pants started approaching, he couldn't help but feel like he was only going to keep getting worse.

[heyswagmoney]

Physical affection prompt #15 with philza and the boys

#15 - the biggest, warmest hugs

---

philza + wilbur

Something was... Off with Wilbur today. He was skittish, seemed like he didn’t want to be around anyone. Not his usual extroverted, smiling, creative self. Phil noticed from the second he saw the other that something was wrong. He always knows when something’s wrong.

Phil caught Wilbur outside. He was just... staring.

“Hey bud,” He greeted with a smile, placing his hand on the other’s shoulder.

Wil flinched a bit, then relaxed when he saw who was touching him. “Nothing has been the same in awhile, huh?” He spoke vaguely, his eyes glued to whatever in the horizon. “Am I a good person, Phil?”

Phil blinked a bit. Straight to the point, as per usual. “Of course you’re a good person, Wil!” He tried to make his tone a bit happier, trying to cheer on the other. “You always have been.”

Wil’s lip quivered a bit. “I don’t think history will remember me that way.” His voice wavered as he blinked quickly, trying to rid himself of emotions.

The fatherly figure didn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around the other, puling him down a bit to be more his height. “History doesn’t get all the details. Memory does.” He whispered, feeling the other grab him tightly.

They stood there for awhile, as Wilbur softly sobbed into Phil’s clothes. Phil ran his hands along the other’s back, quietly comforting his son. It was cold standing there, but if it made Wil happy, Phil would do it every day of his life.

-

philza + techno

“Techno?”

Phil hasn’t seen him all day. Usually Techno greets him in the morning, tells him about the day he has planned, and leaves with a goodbye. Today, nothing. No sign of him sneaking away either. Something happened.

A small shuffling sound came from the basement, which was unfamiliar for villagers. Phil made his way towards it, knowing exactly what happened. He moved quickly, but tried his best not to alarm the other.

“Techno..?”

He called again quietly, listening for another noise. The closer he got, the more he heard a familar hyperventilating pattern.

“It’s just Phil, it’s just me,”

Techno’s face was hidden away in his knees, his body curled tightly together. His hand’s were gripped at his ears, his skin pale.

Phil took a breath of his own, then bent down next to the other. He’s been to this rodeo before.

“Techno, I’m goin’ to touch you. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Phil waited for any signs of fear before moving his hands to the other’s, grabbing the hands off of his now scratched and irritated ears. Techno’s hands gripped at Phil’s almost desperately.

“theyre so loud,”

Techno’s voice was bleak and quiet, opposed to his usual power and confidence reigning his tone. Phil nodded to himself, before moving Techno’s hands to be wrapped around him. He near picked up the other, letting him grip onto him.

“Tech, try n’ breathe for me. You’re gonna pass out,”

Phil’s voice was soft, trying to get the other to focus on himself and his feelings. Techno shook as Phil traced lines the length of their breaths up and down his back. The kid was cold.

Techno buried his face into Phil, trying his best to listen to him. He felt safe, for once. He felt protected.

Phil sat on the cold floor with Techno for awhile, softly rocking the other and comforting him. He told stories of how his wings have carried him through life. He told him the stories that reminded him of Techno. He sat until he couldn’t feel his legs, and he squeezed his son until he couldn’t breathe.

“‘m sorry about that,”

Techno softy apologized, pushing himself back into a sitting position, wiping the tears from under his eyes.

Phil just smiled and stood up, giving his hand to the other.

“You’re my son, there’s nothing to thank me for.”

-

philza + ranboo

Ranboo, the newest in the found family, has always been weird with touch. He mainly tried to avoid it, not knowing the reactions he would have to certain people. Though, even he could admit to himself that he was a bit touch starved. After Phil saved him, he had been loosening up a bit. He laughed and smiled more, and even tried to share more about himself.

One thing slipped that he didn’t mean to tell, one day while organizing the chests with Phil. “Y’know? I can’t remember the last hug I’ve gotten. Which makes sense, y’know, the whole memory thing.” He tensed a bit after the first sentence, trying to cover it with the second. Phil just smiled in return, changing the subject.

Later that day, Ranboo ran into Phil again. This time, Phil was at his little shack, asking if he’d like dinner. “I’m gettin’ food with Techno, do you need anything?”

Ranboo simply tilted his head, then nodded. “Uh, yeah! Yeah, that’d be good. Thank you,” He gave a weak smile.

Phil nodded, then wrapped his arms around the other. “You’re welcome, kiddo.”

The enderman was still, not knowing if he should hug back or just accept it. He could feel every hair, every thread, every skin cell seemingly. Ranboo could get used to it. His long arms awkwardly reached back, placing his arms down on Phil’s spine.

“I- I didn’t think you’d remember,” He muttered after a second, his body starting to relax.

“I might be old,” Phil laughed softly, “but I wouldn’t forget about you.”

-

philza + tommy

As kids, Tommy and Techno would rough house. A lot. This ended with many stories, but Phil often tells this as his favorite.

Tommy has been mischievous for years now, and it never failed to get on Techno’s nerves. While Techno was still learning the basics he missed in early development, Tommy never missed a beat, always getting in his business. He used to take the letters from his puzzles, talk in his ear when he was trying to read. Normal asshole kid things. What no one was expecting, though, was Tommy to teach himself a phrase in Piglin.

It came out of nowhere too. He just walked into the room and dropped it like a bomb. Techno was the first to respond, naturally, in a very tense state. He stood up slowly, looked at Tommy, then spoke back. “Where did you learn that? Do you know what that means? Who taught you that?” All in Piglin, of course. Tommy just shook his head.

“All I know is that. I learned it from someone at school, he said it means ‘you’re a baby’.” Tommy responded, the sound of the other’s fluency in the language being a bit intimidating.

“Dad, I’m gonna curse.” Techno spoke, looking at Phil with a very stern face. “You called me a fuckin’ idiot, Tommy.” Phil gasped, then laughed. Tommy looked mortified.

He ran. Yelling. Tommy ran right to Phil, chanting, “DAD IM SCARED DAD HES GONNA KILL ME DAD HELP”. Phil thought he might pass out from laughing so hard, still not over Techno’s “stern” look and cursing.

Kids are hilarious.

-

philza + tubbo

Tubbo, since the day Phil took him in, has never been physically affectionate. At least, not with Phil. Tommy had been slowly “acclimating” the other to different types of touches. He’d always be near or touching him, even if they were just standing. It’s Tommy’s way of showing he was there and okay.

This lead them to more touches, like holding clothing on the other or standing shoulder to shoulder. Then, eventually, Tubbo hugged Tommy. It was long, and it had no prompt, it was just a quiet hug. This was a huge step for the kid, and Phil couldn’t be more proud.

Tommy continued to help Tubbo as much as possible, happy that he felt comfortable enough to prompt a hug. Though Phil wanted to be able to help more, he was scared of hurting the boy. The flinching hurt him more than words could describe.

“Hey Phil?” A smaller voice rang out through the house. Tubbo stood at the door, a small smile on his face.

“Hey! What’s up, kiddo?” Phil smiled, continuing his potion brewing. Moments like these made Phil happy, even if they were just conversations.

Tubbo took a few steps forward, then stopped in the middle of the room. “Um, Tommy and Techno left to go find something. I was wondering if, um, could I have a hug?” His voice was meek, not common to him.

Phil paused a bit. It was his time to shine. His smile never faded as he opened his arms to the other. “You can always have a hug, Tubbo.”

Tubbo smiled back, wrapping his arms around Phil’s torso. His head lied on his chest, listening to Phil’s heart beat. It was comforting to feel one.

Phil rested his head on Tubbo’s, rubbing the other’s back. “Is everything alright?”

Tubbo nodded. “I wanted to see if I could do it.”

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 5

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 4,569

Warnings: none

A/N: Let me just thank you for your support, it’s so heartwarming and I love you so much. I’m sorry this chapter is so long, I have no idea how that happened. I hope you enjoy this :’)

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

After you agreed to move in with Bucky and become a full time artist, everything started to move incredibly fast. The dinner went well, you worked out the details of your contract with Sam and Nat who didn’t seem surprised that this was happening.

You left your job almost overnight, only giving them two weeks’ notice. They easily found a new breakfast attendant and you even trained your replacement. You emptied your locker, returned your name tag and your master key, and went on your merry way.

Now you were on your way to Bucky’s apartment, a suitcase full of clothes between your legs and another full of administrative papers, beauty products and whatnot between Natasha’s legs. She had insisted on coming with you to help you get settled. You didn’t own furniture or anything that required her help so you figured she just wanted to make sure Bucky was treating you right.

He had already transferred your monthly allowance to your bank account, which prompted your bank to call you. They wanted to know where the 5 thousand dollars came from and you told them it was a gift. “If your friend’s looking for new friends give them my number, yeah?” the man on the phone told you.

The rocking motion of the train had a soothing effect on you, almost lulling you to sleep. You let your head fall against the window and played one of your favourite game –people watching.

There was a man reading a newspaper, standing with his feet apart as if the cart was one giant skateboard. A woman was putting on makeup, another was playing a game on her phone. The woman sitting next to you was wrestling with her toddler who wanted to snatch your scarf. It was a quiet day.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Natasha asked, her face as cold as stone.

“’Bout what?” you replied in a sleepy voice.

“About your crush on James.”

“I don’t have a crush on Bucky.”

As soon as the words passed your lips, a tiny, sticky hand landed on your jaw, making a wet slapping sound. You blinked hard, your eyes trained on Natasha who was now openly smiling at the toddler next to you.

“See? Even the baby knows you’re a liar,” she said, singing the last word.

You turned your head to look at the baby and saw him put his fist in his mouth, his eyes bright and wide. With a happy squeal he launched himself at you again, smacking you in the face. The mother apologized and held her child against her chest, softly admonishing him to stop throwing himself at strangers. You felt that. He spent the rest of the ride looking at you.

“So, really, you’re going to move in with a man you have a massive crush on, and we’re not even going to talk about it,” she pressed on.

You huffed, wiping baby goo from your cheek with your sleeve. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“And you’re the bone.”

You got off the train and walked to Bucky’s apartment, your suitcase rolling behind you. Natasha was silent next to you, something that almost never happened. You counted your steps in your head, waiting for her to speak.

“You didn’t have to move out of my apartment.”

22 steps. That’s how long Natasha managed to stay quiet for. “Of course, I had to. I’m not going to do Brooklyn-Chelsea every day.”

When Bucky had offered his guest bedroom, your first reaction had been to politely refuse. Bucky seemed like a nice guy, but what if he had a glass cage in his basement? What if he trapped you there and commissioned paintings to you? Psycho killer, qu'est ce que c'est.

Then he opened up about his past, his insecurities, and it made you long to hold him. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, the kind that only come from an unprotected heart. You realized there was more chance of you hurting him than the opposite.

“You’re the one who organized this whole thing,” you reminded Natasha.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you had a crush on him. And if someone tells Okoye this was my idea, she’ll kill me.”

You turned to her with a not-sorry smile. “Yup.”

Your big sister was like most big sisters: extremely protective. When your mother had to work late, she was in charge and she took her role very seriously. You were nine when she finally got her driver’s licence, and that day she graduated from sister to mother. Eat your vegetables. Did you do your homework? I know you didn’t brush your teeth.

Okoye was loyal, protective, intimidating, and never afraid to speak her mind. When she decided to join the Dora Milaje, you thought the job was perfect for her –the king’s bodyguard, now that’s something you’d like to put on your resume.

“Do you want me to stay tonight?” Natasha asked as you got inside the elevator.

“Why are you so worried?”

“I don’t know.” She pressed her back against the wall and shrugged. “It’s always been you and me. Since first grade.”

You returned her sad smile with one of your own. “Heckle and Jeckle.”

She barked out a laugh at the memory. It was the nickname her father had for the two of you. It used to be a popular animated cartoon in the 50s. It was the story of two talking magpies who were always getting into some kind of trouble.

You stepped out of the elevator, still arguing about which one of you got to be Jeckle, the less problematic of the two, when you noticed that Bucky was patiently waiting for you by the front door. He didn’t say anything but there was an amused smile on his face.

He let you put your suitcases in the guest room near the kitchen and told you that he had to run a few errands, giving you a little privacy. Natasha hung up your clothes in the wardrobe while you unpacked your other stuff and put them away in the drawers of your dresser.

It didn’t take you long to unpack. When you were done, you threw yourself onto the bed, watching Natasha. You were excited to sleep in a real bed, you couldn’t stop running your hands up and down the comforter.

“Jeckle,” Natasha said, looking at the mostly empty wardrobe. “You need new clothes.”

“Ugh, yes,” you groaned from the bed.

When you were a teenager, you used to spend every weekend at the mall with your sisters and Natasha. Your wardrobe wasn’t big enough to fit all your clothes and your mother often asked you to get rid of the things you didn’t wear anymore. You never did.

Then life happened, and you didn’t have the energy or money to go shopping anymore.

You went to the kitchen to grab something to drink. Bucky’s fridge was even bigger than the one you had at work, and it was full of food in neatly labelled rows of Tupperware containers. The one in front of you was labelled ‘baby carrots’.

“Neat freak alert,” Natasha commented, peering over your shoulder into the refrigerator.

“Stop it.”

You took a bottle of water and sat at the kitchen island while Natasha continued investigating his kitchen. Bucky had several gadgets that few people had in their kitchen like a cutting board with suction cups on the bottom and nails on top to hold the food in place while slicing.

It was obvious that he liked to cook, and for some reason it made you smile. You pictured him cooking for one and your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. It was a sad mental image and you shook your head to get rid of it.

The front door opened and you lifted your head to see what Natasha was doing. She was holding Bucky’s meal plan, perusing it intensely. Bucky entered the room and greeted you with a smile before he made his way over to the fridge.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asked.

Natasha waved the meal plan in your direction mouthing ‘it’s laminated’ while Bucky retrieved a bottle of water for himself. You gestured wildly at her to put it back down.

“No, I’m good,” you replied with a slightly crazed smile. He looked between you and Natasha with a frown. “Natasha was about to leave.”

“Was I?” she replied, tilting her head.

“Yeah, you have stuff to do, remember?” You gave her a pointed stare.

“No.”

You widened your eyes at her and moved your head in the direction of the hallway that led to the front door. You tried to be discreet but you knew you weren’t fooling anyone. She watched you, unfazed.

Luckily, Bucky came to your rescue.

“Thank you for coming all the way out here, Natasha. Do you want me to call you a cab?” His tone left no room for discussion. You hid your grin behind your glass.

“That won’t be necessary,” she replied without looking at him.

You walked Natasha back to the front door and opened it. She glared at something over your shoulder and you turned to see if Bucky was there. He wasn’t.

“Wait, I forgot to tell him that if he hurts you I’ll kill him.”

You grabbed her by the shoulders when she tried to move past you. “I think he got the message. Thanks for coming with me. I’ll call you tonight.”

“You’d better,” she warned with a slow nod.

When you returned to the kitchen, it really dawned on you that you were alone with Bucky. He glanced up at you while he was going through his mail. You took your seat and nervously looked around the room. It was too quiet, you didn’t like it.

“I like your friend,” he said, grinning. “She seems very protective of you.”

“She is,” you sighed.

An uncomfortable and strangely melancholic silence hung between you. You were both afraid to say or do the wrong thing. You felt like you didn’t belong there; like a patch sewed on a worn out pair of jeans, mending holes.

“You ok?”

You looked up at him. “Yeah, I just feel a little awkward. I’m... not sure what you want me to do now.”

“Nothing,” he said, rounding the kitchen island to sit on the stool next to you. His eyebrows were pulled together in concern. “This is your home. You can do whatever you want.”

“It doesn’t really feel like my home.” You shrugged one shoulder. “It kinda feels like I just unloaded my crap in your guest room, which is exactly what happened.”

He observed you a moment. “Well, make it your home. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable here.”

“So,” you glanced at him sideways. “If I bought a few things to make this place more... homey, you wouldn’t be mad?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled up as his smile grew. “I’m begging you to make this place more homey. It’s really boring, isn’t it?” he said, looking around the kitchen with a comical frown.

You chuckled. “No, it’s not. Well, maybe a little.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” he said with a laugh.

Bucky watched you with his cheek in the palm of his hand. Your eyes were moving around the room, making mental notes of the things you wanted to add. He smiled, the sparkle was back in your eyes.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, straightening up.

He left the room for a second and came back with his hand hidden behind his back. You looked at him with a playfully suspicious frown as he approached you. You followed his movements closely, your frown deepening when he placed a little white box on the kitchen counter.

“Open it.”

You removed the lid and pulled out a set of keys, undoubtedly the keys to his apartment. The keychain was gleaming the light; a small silver angel that fit snugly in the palm of your hand.

You barely managed to croak out a thank you before you threw yourself at him, hugging him tight. His body tensed instantly and you were about to apologize when you felt his arm wrap around you.

You felt pressure build in your throat, a tingling sensation in your nose, and tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck. The last thing you wanted was for him to catch you crying over a set of keys. Though deep down it wasn’t about the keys, it was the accumulation of pent-up emotions and the realization that you were now completely free to follow your dreams.

You released him but he was still hanging on to you. Tight. His heart was beating fast against your chest. He was a lonely man craving human interaction. So you closed your eyes and rubbed your hands up and down his back –gently and out of sync. After a few long minutes, he untangled himself from you.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes. “C’mon, there’s something else I want to show you.”

“Another gift?” You sighed his name when you noted the guilty expression on his face. “It’s too much.”

“It’s a practical gift, hardly a gift at all.”

He took you upstairs to the room that was now your studio. The room hadn’t changed since your last visit, except for the easel placed in the centre. You entered slowly as if you were approaching a frightened mythological creature. You ran your fingers along the wood, your chest tight with the heft of your emotions.

You hadn’t seen one in a while, and now it was right in front of you, beckoning. “Show me how you feel,” the easel said. “Show the world what you’re made of.”

“Thank you so much,” you said, your voice soft.

“I thought it was the perfect housewarming gift for you.”

You turned to him and smiled. “It is. I already bought everything I need. Paint, knives, brushes, canvases... an easel. Sorry, I didn’t know you were going to buy me one. It’s good to have more than one though. Online shops are a bit impersonal.” You walked toward the door where he was waiting. “I miss the smell of art supply stores. It’s so intoxicating, it really gets the creative juices flowing.”

“What does it smell like?”

You closed your eyes and tried to concentrate. “It’s a mix of paint and paper, a woody pencil-sharpening smell mixed with chemicals and ash.”

“Sounds relaxing.”

“It’s heaven,” you said with a dreamy sigh.

Bucky gave you a fond smile and glanced at the keychain still in your hand. “So that’s where angels come from, uh?”

You laughed and pushed his good shoulder playfully. Ever since that fateful day when Bucky asked you out for coffee and you mistook his business date for a romantic date, you learned not to take the things he said too seriously. Bucky was a nice guy, a bit of a flirt sometimes, but his intentions were clear. He wanted a companion, not a girlfriend.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a flash, you went to your room and rearranged a few things while Bucky stayed in his office. At dinnertime you set the table while he finished cooking. You sat in front of a bowl of homemade soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.

After you had practically licked your bowl clean, Bucky leaned back in his chair and watched you with a grin. You felt a little embarrassed. You wiped your mouth with your napkin, trying to look a bit more well-mannered.

“It was really good,” you said.

“Thank you. I gotta say, I was tired of cooking for one. It’s not fun.” He put your empty bowl in his and carried them to the sink. You gathered up plates and utensils and followed him. “You’ll have to tell me what you don’t like.”

“As long as you don’t make me eat broccoli ice cream, I’m good.”

He laughed, remembering your conversation from a couple of week ago. “I don’t think I can stomach it either.” He handed you two small plates and two forks. “I bought a cake. I thought we could celebrate our first day together. Is it creepy? I can’t tell.”

“No, that’s a great idea!” you laughed. “You’re making me feel like it’s my birthday.”

You carried everything to the table while he opened the fridge and retrieved a large pink cardboard box. He balanced the box in his hand, a sharp knife sitting on top. “I’m surprised you didn’t bake it yourself,” you said, picking up the knife.

“Dessert isn’t my forte.” He opened the cardboard box, revealing a three-layer red velvet cake. “I’m too much of a perfectionist. I can make pretty decent pies but sponge cakes are hard to control when you only have one hand.”

“We can bake cakes together if you want. I’m clumsy as hell but I’m willing to learn.”

“That’d be nice,” he replied with a smile.

It was, without a doubt, the best cake you’d ever had in your life. It was incredibly light. The chocolate and vanilla burst in your mouth, mixing perfectly with the bitterness of the buttermilk.

“Red velvet is my favorite,” Bucky said, licking his fork. “Blueberry cheesecakes are good too. And Blackout cakes, umm, so good. Except fruitcakes,” he said, his mouth twisted into a downturned grimace. “Fruitcakes are the devil.”

“You’ve got quite the sweet tooth.”

“You have no idea,” he said, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

After a minute of silence, you said, “The last time I ate red velvet cake, my sister had put too much white vinegar. It was disgusting but we didn’t want to hurt her feelings so we ate all of it.”

Bucky chuckled. “How many siblings do you have?”

It was a standard get-to-know-you question and you knew he would ask it at some point. Yet, it made your guts twist in pain. It was a question you always dreaded because you didn’t have a clear answer to it. Should you leave Pietro out? He was gone but he was still your brother.

“I, uh,” you mumbled, staring down at your half-eaten slice of cake. “I’m not sure what the answer is.” He frowned at you, confused. “Do you... do you count the ones you lost?”

Understanding flashed in his eyes and he gave you a patient smile. “Yes, I do.”

You met his eyes and tried to smile, though you were pretty sure it looked more like a grimace. “I have four siblings then.” You took a forkful of cake and chewed slowly, allowing yourself a few seconds to clear your thoughts. Without success.

“I was adopted,” you revealed. His eyebrows rose in surprise but he let you continue. “We were all adopted. My mom lost her husband when she was young. They wanted to have a big family but they were too busy working. They both had very demanding jobs.”

“What did they do?”

“He was in the military, and she was the co-founder of an extra-governmental military counter-terrorism and intelligence agency.”

“That’s a mouthful,” Bucky chuckled.

“You should hear their name.” He gave you a ‘go ahead’ look. “It’s the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.”

You watched Bucky process the name, waiting for the moment realization would dawn on him. Then his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.? Your mom’s the co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D.” He stared at you, his mouth wide open. “Your mom’s Peggy Carter!? Jesus Christ,” he sighed, shaking himself out of his stupor. “When we were kids, me, Stevie and a couple of other kids pretended to be secret agents working for S.H.I.E.L.D. We even had a name: the Howling Commandos.”

You screwed your eyes shut, a smile breaking across your face. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, embarrassment colouring his face. “I dunno why I’m telling you this. Please, don’t tell your mom.”

Your laughter died down, and you continued smiling at him. He was cute when he was flustered. You smothered that thought as soon as it materialized.

“I didn’t know she had adopted five kids.”

“Yeah, I guess her job as the co-founder of one the most important secret agency gave her the freedom to adopt without having to wait.”

“Do you get along with your siblings?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I mean, kinda. Scott, my older brother, is a few years younger than you. He’s really smart but he’s a big goof. He left for San Francisco when I was a kid. My sister, Okoye, left when I was 19. She’s King T’Chaka’s bodyguard.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” you chucked. “The twins are only three years older than me. We were really close, but then Pietro,” you took a small pause, “he, um, he died and, Wanda, she couldn’t stay anymore. It was too much, y’know. She went to Sokovia -where they were born- and she never came home. Last I heard, she was backpacking through Europe.”

“You still have your mom though,” Bucky said with a warm smile.

“She’s in London,” you said, smiling even though you had to dig your nails into your palm to keep yourself from crying. “She’s in a nursing home. She was diagnosed with a form of dementia, something similar to Alzheimer. She has no idea who I am.”

You tried to speak in a normal, detached tone but your voice wavered and you fought not to cry. Bucky reached for your hand, your nails had left half-moon indentations in your palm. Wordlessly, he smoothed his thumb over your palm, inspecting the damage.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice soft.

Until now it had never occurred to you that you had never said those things out loud before. Natasha knew because she’d been with you through all of it. She was your best friend, the only person who hadn’t abandoned you yet.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d met someone new, someone you felt comfortable enough to talk to about your family.

You didn’t want to end the day on a sad note, so you pulled yourself together. You straightened up, wiped your eyes and sniffed back the tingling feeling in your nose. Bucky seemed to notice that you wanted to change the subject because he let go of your hand and picked up his fork again.

“So,” you said after clearing your throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“It’s a serious question and it’s important that you tell me the truth.”

Bucky flinched, his throat working as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I promise.”

You took a deep breath and rotated your head left and right, working the kinks out of your neck and back. Then you levelled him with a direct stare.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

Bucky recoiled as if he had misheard you. He looked momentarily startled by your question before he burst into laughter. When your face remained stoic, he realized you weren’t joking. “Oh? Umm, I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He seemed lost in thought for a second. “I like blue.”

“Which blue? Navy? Tiffany blue? Sapphire? Baby blue? Teal? Duck-egg? Turquoise?” you enumerated them quickly.

“Just...blue?” he replied carefully. You took a deep breath and released it slowly, shaking your head. “No, wait,” he added in a hurry. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration while he was trying to come up with a better answer. “The color of the sky when a storm is brewing. That’s my favorite color.”

You smirked. “Poetic.”

“Well, I’m a writer,” he replied with a lopsided grin. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Oh no, you can’t ask me that. I’m a painter, it’s like asking a parent who their favourite child is.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded, waving his hand to dismiss the question. “Let me ask you an equally important question.”

“Oh, boy,” you laughed.

The warmth of his laughter was reassuring. It made you feel at ease, calm. What you hadn’t realized yet was that you weren’t trying to change your personality to please him. You were yourself, flaws and all.

“When you read a book, how do you keep track of your reading?” he asked. “Do you use a bookmark? Receipts? Candy wrappers? Book ribbon? Do you fold the corner of the page? Do you leave the book face down or memorize the page number? I need to know.”

You didn’t have to think about it. “Dog ears.”

“Oh, God, you’re a folder.” He stared up at the ceiling and sighed heavily. “I think I got you all wrong. You’re not an angel, you’re a little demon.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line to hide a smile.

He quickly gathered up the dirty plates and carried them to the sink while you remained seated at the table, laughing. You turned in your chair and saw him fill the sink with hot water and suds. What kind of millionaire doesn’t own a dishwasher?

“I bet you also write in ‘em,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a hint of a smirk.

“No, I would never,” you said, joining him at the sink. “I like books that look old though. Cracked spines, folded corners, tea or coffee stains.”

“Please, stop I’m going to hyperventilate,” he joked.

You chuckled. “Do you a have a towel?” you asked, giving him a little tap with your hip so he would scoot sideways.

He let go of the knife he was washing and pulled out a towel from the cabinet under the sink. You were a bit in awe of the way he cleaned everything with only one hand but you didn’t want to sound condescending so you kept it to yourself.

“What’s the point of having books if they look like nobody’s ever opened them?” you said. “I want to know my books had a good life before I bought them. I want to know they were loved. Sometimes when you love something, you mess it up a little.” He rinsed a plate and handed it to you. “I bet you have one of those sentence pointer bookmarks.”

He stayed quiet for a moment and you cursed yourself, thinking you might have hurt his feelings with your little teasing. His meal plan was fucking laminated, of course he had a sentence pointer bookmark. When he spoke, you felt like you could breathe again.

“I do have a bookmark. My niece made it for me at school. It’s pink and it has a braided pink and purple ribbon. No sentence pointer.”

His rueful smile and slightly red cheeks made your chest warm. You had to remind yourself that Bucky wasn’t flirting with you. He was just being nice.

“I’m jealous,” you said. “I wish I had one.”

“That can be arranged,” he nodded, his bottom lip jutting out in a pensive pout.

You wondered what this would look like if someone were to enter the room right now. They’d see you and Bucky, standing side by side at the sink as though you were the protagonists of a Norman Rockwell painting called ‘Domestic Bliss’. You wanted more days like this one.

“Yeah?” you breathed out. “You sure?”

“Anything for you, angel.”

Part 6

[alonely-dreamer]

The Valuable Sun | Chapter 23 (Part 3)

Summary: Brooke and Eric have work to do.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

Words: 2688

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 (Part 1) | Chapter 23 (Part 2)

Tags: @parabatai-winchester​

To say that Brooke and Sookie were having a hard time was an understatement. Sookie, after killing Debbie and having Pam turn Tara into a vampire, was judged and hated by all, and she had come back from work a wreck, and had dove into the cabinet were gran had always kept the alcohol. She turned on the stereo, and the loud music woke Brooklynne up.

She had spent the entire day in bed, and even though she kept waking up and kept having the worst lucid dreams, she stayed under the covers until way after sunset.

Not only the music was loud, but Brooke could hear her sister’s devastating thoughts. She had cast Bill away from her mind, she had enough humans judging her for her to worry about the traitorous bastard her vampire ex-boyfriend had turned out to be. She was so drunk she couldn’t hear Brooke think really, really, loudly that she wished she’d turn down the music a bit. Perhaps Sookie didn’t even know her sister was in her bedroom upstairs. She rarely were anymore.

Lafayette called. He had found Sookie’s car destroyed against a tree, and wanted to check on her. She was fine, apparently, she had jumped out of the car at the right time, and had even found it funny. She must be really drunk, Brooke thought.

She heard another train of thoughts approach the house, but his smell told her who he was before she could even hear anything. Sookie was waiting for another well deserved scolding from the werewolf but was surprised to hear Alcide had told Debbie’s parents some lie about how the Alpha from their pack had slept with her then killed her. Good. Because if Alcide had told the truth and Sookie had been sent to jail, not much would have been left of the werewolf after that night.

She tried to tune out the party that was going on downstairs, but it was either listening to Alcide and Sookie’s drunk thoughts about each other or thinking about her own issues. And she really didn’t want to think about Eric at the moment.

When Sookie and Alcide started to make out on their grandmother’s couch, she thought about leaving the house, not only to give them some privacy but also because she really didn’t want to hear any of it.

But then she heard his voice. Or rather, his thoughts. Bill was standing right there, outside of their house, watching the werewolf and the fairy take each other’s clothes off. A creep until the end. Brooklynne felt like fighting, and he had just given her a reason to beat his ass.

She sped out of her house, wearing nothing but a tight shirt and silk shorts and went straight to Bill whom she pushed away with supernatural strength. The King of Louisiana landed in the cemetery near the house.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as if he were still standing right in front of her.

It took a couple of seconds for him to get back on his feet and return to his spot.

“You know, I am still your King.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Bill sighed. “I get that you’re mad, but…”

“But nothing. Leave my sister alone.”

“I didn’t come here for Sookie.”

“What then?”

“I told him to meet us here,” Eric said as he appeared beside his King. “Granted, he could’ve picked a better spot.”

“Weren’t we supposed to go with Alcide?” she asked, remembering the plan. “He’s drunk now.”

“Clearly,” Eric mumbled.

“Let’s sober him up,” Bill said, and Brooke had no doubt he was more than happy to put a stop to the party.

***

Alcide took them to Doug, the employee that had found the hole in the parking lot. The werewolf had been smart not to ask about the obvious tension between the vampires while they drove in his van to the site.

Doug was a chubby man almost as tall as Alcide. His hair was longer, and so was his beard. He seemed shy and squeamish, and didn’t feel comfortable with whatever was happening. They had taken them to Russell’s former resting place where fresh cement had been poured to cover the hole. Brooklynne asked Doug to hold her hand and close his eyes and focus on that night, on what he saw. He had been glamoured by the vampire who had dug up Russell and it was harder for her to get any useful images from his mind.

“It’s a woman,” Brooke said. “She’s digging up Russell with her hands.”

Russell appeared like a bloody overgrown baby with no skin and the memory made Doug start to shake in fear.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks as if he were living it for the first time.

“Wait,” Brooke squeezed his hand harder as he tried to step away. “It’s Nora,” she breathed out.

“That’s not possible,” Eric said, trying to ignore Bill’s ‘I told you so’ look.

“She has the same necklace.”

“It could be any member of the Authority, then. Do you see Nora’s face?”

“No, just the necklace.”

“So we don’t know for certain it’s her,” Eric insisted. “It’s not Nora, it can’t be. She thought Russell was dead. She risked her life to free us.”

“Can I go now?” Doug asked.

But they were far from done.

The woman, whom according to Eric was not Nora, had Doug scoop Russell up like a baby and take him into an abandoned facility at the other end of town. That was their next destination.

In the van, Eric and Bill kept arguing about Nora while Brooklynne, helped by Doug’s blurry memory, led Alcide to Russell’s location.

“She’s a traitor and a liar, just like her brother,” Bill spat at the sheriff who showed fangs at the insult. Bill followed suit.

“Take that back,” Eric growled.

But the fight was cut short as Bill’s phone started ringing. Brooke couldn’t help but listen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, guys. It’s Molly. Remember me? Giving you a shout-out to let you know your countdown has started.”

“Our countdown?”

“Yeah, your iStakes are set to activate at dawn. Bummer, right?”

“There must be some kind of mistake.”

“No, I’m launching a test. Is your iStake glowing?”

Brooke took a look at the two vampires at the back of the van. Eric opened his jacket and a red light was coming from under his shirt, right where his heart was. iStake. It sounded stupid, but scary. That was what she had felt the previous night when he had held her against his chest. And that stupid but scary thing would kill Eric if they didn’t find Russell before the end of the night. She looked up at her maker with a heart and eyes full of worry. They wouldn’t have time after all. She wouldn’t have time to forgive him. And as he stared back at her, she saw in his eyes that it was okay. That he knew.

“Yeah, they’re glowing…”

“Cool. Means we’re good to go. Good luck. And if you don’t make it, it’s been rad serving you. Peace out.”

Brooklynne wanted to tear that Molly apart for the total indifference she showed at her maker’s True Death. But she had bigger problems. They all did.

Doug was reluctant to enter the building, but all Alcide wanted was for it to be over, so he dragged him in and started looking.

“Wolves have been here,” he sniffed.

“They come with Russell,” Bill said with a sigh, wondering which would kill him first, the iStake or a werewolf.

The building was an abandoned asylum. Brooklynne would find it ironic that Russell would hide here but she was too anxious to find it even remotely funny.

They dragged Doug, or rather Doug led them, through Brooke, down to the morgue, walking pass freshly severed hands and other dead bodies being eaten by rats.

“Well, at least we’re in the right place,” Eric said.

“The morgue,” Bill thought aloud as they walked pass the indications on the wall. “How convenient.”

Helped by a flashlight, Doug and Alcide followed the vampires into the darkness of the basement. Hearing, or perhaps sensing something Doug couldn’t, the vampires revealed their fangs as Alcide said:

“We’re being watched.”

Doug had reached his limits and let go of Brooklynne before he ran away. Knowing it was a bad idea to leave the human alone in this abandoned asylum where a three thousand year old psychopath was hiding, Alcide went after him. It was only when Doug started screaming that the three vampires followed him.

They found what seemed to be Russell’s pantry, where over a dozen humans were hanging from hooks like pigs in a butchery. A man started begging for his life, begging for them to take someone else, anyone else but him.

“Where do they take the prisoners?” Bill asked him.

“Down the hallway. There’s screaming and then there’s not!”

“What do we do with them?” Brooke asked.

“We’ll come back for them after we’re done with Russell,” Eric said before turning around and exiting the room, followed by the rest of his suicide squad.

Stakes in hands, they made their way to the end of the hallway where they found Russell lying on a hospital bed. He looked pale and sick, even coughed a few times. He looked almost human. Almost.

“Ah, miss Stackhouse. I see you’ve joined us,” he said with an eerie smile.

“We came here to finish what we started,” Eric told him as he approached.

“Well… give it your best shot.”

Russell’s smile grew bigger before Alcide, who was still standing in the hallway, behind Brooke, got jumped by a wolf.

“Eric!” Brooke shouted as a wolf launched itself at her maker.

She went to help him but was stopped by Russell who positioned himself between her and the Viking.

“Mmh, you’re just what the doctor ordered,” he smirked. “I’m sure becoming one of us just made your fairy blood even stronger.”

He trapped her against a wall and as he aimed for her throat she used her light to push him away. His back hit the wall at the other end of the hallway and he collapsed on the floor painfully.

“Yeah,” he cackled like a maniac as he sat up and leaned against the wall, “there is that aspect of you which I loathe.”

Eric killed the wolf that was after him then sped towards Russell. He crouched to get to his level then seized his face and made him look away from Brooklynne and directly at him.

“Look at me. I want to be the last thing you ever see,” he growled as he directed his stake towards his heart.

But before he had the chance to make a big mistake, Bill had his own stake aimed at Eric’s heart.

“He dies, we die. Most certainly. But if we take him back alive, maybe we don’t have to die.”

“Unlikely.”

“But not impossible.”

“Eric! Please,” Brooke begged. “He’s right!”

Eric snarled but eventually let go of his stake and put his fangs away. Russell used this short moment of weakness to pick up the disregarded weapon and attack the Viking. In less than a second, Eric was on his back, Russell on top of him, the sharp tip of the stake on his heart. Brooke moved fast and once again used her light to push Russell away from the man she loved.

It all happened really fast, and Brooke barely had time to register what was happening, as a group of heavily armed soldiers came in. Half of them had their guns pointed at Russell and the other half at her own heart.

“Freeze!”

Russell surrendered without protest, the red lights now aiming at his chest. One move and he’d be a pool of blood.

A tall, black man all dressed in black, from his shoes to his cap, joined them and stared at Brooklynne like she was the worst thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Eric quickly positioned himself between her and the man who was obviously the one giving orders here.

“What is this?” he asked with a strong accent.

“She’s mine,” Eric growled.

“Yours?”

“My progeny.”

There was no hiding anymore, no lying anymore. They had seen it. The light, the speed. It was useless to deny it, they were damned either way, and if they had to die tonight, they were at least going to be honest about it.

“What is she?”

… Well, half a truth was better than a complete lie…

“She’s a vampire.”

Russell chuckled.

“Lie,” the commander hissed.

“I turned her myself.”

“I suppose we will see what Guardian has to say about… this,” he said, looking around at the room where two dead werewolves were lying naked next to Bill. “Wolf and human are here,” he continued as Alcide appeared behind him, buttoning his jeans. “Why?”

“Doug led us here,” Bill started to explain. “Nothing that a little glamouring won’t take care of.”

“Do it,” the commander agreed before he exited the room.

After thoroughly glamouring Alcide, Eric made sure he got out safely and wasn’t stopped by any of the soldiers that the Chancellor had brought with him.

“He’s fine, he got in his van and is driving home,” Eric told Brooklynne as he saw the worried look in her eyes, though she didn’t worry about Alcide, she knew the werewolf would be okay.

Eric sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he cupped her cheeks with his hands. “This is what I wanted to keep you safe from.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead before bringing her to his chest. He rested his chin on her head as she hugged him back. Still, no word came out of her mouth.

***

Chancellor Akinjide seemed impressed, and though he wouldn’t let Brooklynne go, he had stopped looking at her with disgust but rather with curiosity.

“No one thought you two would actually be able to deliver Russell Edgington,” he told them as he led them out of the building and into a van. “Guardian will be extremely pleased.”

“Pleased enough to not execute us?” Eric asked as he sat next to Brooklynne.

“Only Lilith knows that.”

“As only she knows all,” Bill replied with a smirk.

The chancellor didn’t reply as he closed the doors of the van, trapping them inside the vehicle.

“Who’s Lilith?”

“Enough with this religious bullshit already,” Eric sighed. “Lilith can fucking blow me.”

“No, she certainly cannot!”

Bill chuckled.

“Lilith is like the God of vampires,” he explained.

“And why are you suddenly so into it?” Eric asked his King.

“I’m just covering my ass.”

“Are you telling me the Authority is a religious government?”

“It could be worse,” Eric said. “They could take the word of the Vampire Bible literally.”

“The what? The what?!”

“At least the sanguanista aren’t in charge…”

“Who…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eric told her as he took her hand in his. “I’ll explain on the way to New-Orleans.”

“New-O…” she stopped. “Are we… are they… Are we going to die tonight?”

She caught his eyes and saw. They were most probably going to be executed tonight, and she would be questioned and experimented on and maybe they’ll use her blood to give the sun to all vampires… And everything he had done to keep her safe was crumbling down on him, breaking him apart as this voice inside of his head screamed at him that it was his fault and that he should have known better.

He wiped a tear off her cheek and took her chin between his fingers. He tried to give her his most sincere smile as he said: “I love you.” And he didn’t wait for her to say it back because hearing those words coming out of her mouth would kill him before dawn. So he kissed her forehead and rested his cheek on her head, hoping, praying to whatever God there was that he hadn’t just sentenced the woman he loved to death.