#its spitting blood and shoving her own nose back into place

[thicctails]

Replacement | I Grow Maddened (with grief) AU

Itssss Dipper's turn!!

____________________

The ground smelled like ash.

That was the only thing Dipper could think about as he lay on his stomach, face pressed into the cracked earth, still scorched from where Gideon's robot had slammed into it only a month prior. He wasn't sure how long he'd lain there for, his aching body crumpled on the ruined ground. The sky above was swirling and pulsing like an optical illusion, long gashes of flickering light tearing it open in multiple places.

Bill reigned supreme here, and Dipper was sure that it would only be a matter of time before either his Henchmaniacs or dapper demon himself found him. Logically, he knew that he should push himself up, that he needed to find his way back to the Shack, where it was safe, but...

...what was the point when he would be going back alone?

Mabel had chosen her fantasy over him. She'd replaced him with a "more supportive" version of himself in a heartbeat, uncaring about what had happened to her real brother. She didn't want the "lame" Dipper anymore.

She didn't want him anymore.

His next intake of breath was shaking and wobbly, and when he breathed out again, it manifested as a sound that someone only makes when they're about to start crying.

Sure enough, a ragged sob tore itself from Dipper's chest, and he turned his head to press his bruised, bleeding arm against his eyes. Tears flooded down his scratched cheeks, washing away some of the filth that coated his skin from days of surviving all alone.

And that's what he was now, wasn't it? Alone. Mabel had abandoned him, Wendy had run off with her "friends" the first chance she got, and even Soos, the man who had called them his real family, had left him to play a game of catch with the barebones idea of his father.

Great Uncle Ford was captured, and he didn't know where Grunkle Stan was, or if he was safe, or if he was even still-

Dipper's whole body shuddered as he began to sob harder, the ash-tainted soil coating his tongue and causing him to gag as his gasps stirred it up into the air. He could barely breathe as mucus and dirt pooled in his throat, his empty stomach heaving as he gagged. Bitter stomach acid scorched his already raw throat, and Dipper barely had time to shove himself up off the ground as he vomited, the liquid just barely missing his trembling form.

Spitting out what remained of the vile liquid, Dipper pulled his knees up to his chest and tucked his face into them, pulling his tattered hat down as far as he could. He continued to cry, unable to do anything else.

What could he do?

Where could he go?

He thought that he'd gotten braver this summer, had finally toughened up enough to be able to stand up for himself and fight back, but here he was, wailing and shaking like a leaf, wanting nothing more than to hold his sister's hand, to hear her voice telling him that everything would be okay.

"Dipper?"

Oh great, now he was having auditory hallucinations. Had his time in Mabeland done something to his head? Was this one of Bill's sick jokes?

"Dipper!"

The sound of footsteps rapidly approaching barely registered, but when he finally noticed them, he slowly started to raise his head. He only managed to catch a glimpse of something pink barreling towards him before he was tackled to the ground, arms flying around his neck.

Dipper screamed, kicking out wildly as he tried to shake of whatever it was that had him in its grasp. There was something soft brushing against the underside of his chin, and he could feel warm breath against his neck. He took in another breath, this time to scream for help, when the smell of bubblegum reached his nose. Dipper froze, the familiarity of it paralyzing him.

It couldn't be...

The thing holding him shifted, one arm reaching around to snatch the back of his ripped up vest, tugging him in closer, the other coming to rest on the back of his head. The touch was desperate but kind, and now that his own blood wasn't rushing in his ears, Dipper could hear that his attacker was sobbing, tears dripping onto his collarbone. He looked down, and saw brown hair that perfectly matched the colour of his own.

"Mabel?" he croaked, unable to believe what he was seeing. She... she'd come back for him?

The sobs got louder, and he could feel her nod against his neck. Dipper instinctively wrapped his own arms around her, hugging her back with as much strength as his broken body would allow. He began to shake again, and he gripped Mabel's sweater with all his might, trying to keep himself grounded.

"Mabel my dear, where did you- oh!"

Dipper's head whipped up at the new voice, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. His great uncle stepped out of the scorched woods, sporting a long black cloak overtop of the red turtleneck Dipper was used to seeing him in and with his glasses partially broken, but otherwise looking just fine. The elder man gave Dipper a warm smile and quickly made his way over to the twins, kneeling down next to them and opening up his arms.

Dipper's lip wobbled as he unlatched one of his fists from Mabel's sweater to grab onto Grunkle Ford's jacket, all but collapsing into him as fresh tears spilled down his face.

"H- h- how- I saw you get taken! How did you get away from- from Bill?!" Dipper hiccuped, sniffling as his Grunkle pulled both him and Mabel into a warm, secure hug.

"Umm, Dipper?" Mabel mumbled, still hiding in his neck, "He's, um..."

"What your sister is trying to say, my dear boy," Grunkle Ford said, "is that I'm not your Stanford Pines."

Dipper jerked back, still clinging to his sister. He looked up, and that was when he noticed it; the man before him had blue eyes, not brown, like his Grunkle had. One of them was also a milky white and covered in fresh scars, two jagged wounds that marred his face and stood out against his pale skin.

The small differences on an otherwise perfect copy of his Grunkle sent chills racing up Dipper’s spine, and he tensed up, hackles raising. He leaned back as far as he could, but this… False Ford was still holding him and Mabel, and his twin didn’t seem at all disturbed or surprised at this confession. Actually, now that he was looking for them, he could see differences in Mabel as well. She looked exhausted in a way he had never seen, not even when she’d stay up with Candy and Grenda all night, and her sweater was different to the one he’d seen her in earlier. Her eyes, usually so bright and full of light and optimism, had dulled slightly, holding the distant gaze of someone who’d seen something that would keep them up at night for years to come. 

Dipper recognized it because it was what he saw every time he looked in the mirror.

“Who… who are you?” Dipper asked quietly, not sure how to feel, but disliking the way his gut churned with nervousness.

“We're still your family, Dipper, but me and Mabel have come from other realities. I lost my niece and nephew, but I cannot live without you two, and neither can Stanley, so I decided to come searching for a version of you and your sister who needed a new family too.” The False Ford explained. The man's gaze softened into something sad as he gently brushed some of the dirt off Dipper's cheek with his thumb, “You've been through a lot, haven't you? If you come with us, I promise that I'll always keep you safe. You'll never have to worry about being alone ever again.”

Dipper unconsciously leaned into Ford's hand, starved for comfort and teetering on the edge of sleep. The feeling of being held and having his sister clinging onto him, grounding him, was enough to pull at his already heavy eyelids. What this other version of his Grunkle was offering sounded so nice, and it wasn't as if staying would do him any good.

However, the thought of leaving everything, everyone, behind didn't settle well with him. He wasn't sure what he could do for them, but it seemed so wrong to just abandon them to their fates. What about Grunkle Stan, and his Grunkle Ford? What about Soos, Wendy, and… and Mabel? What would happen to them?

“Please, Dipper,” the small, pleading voice of his sister made him turn his head, and he saw Mabel looking back at him, her eyes wet and shiny with tears, “please come with us. I can't lose you again.” 

Dipper sucked in a shaking breath and, after a moment, nodded. What choice did he have, when this version of his twin was begging him to stay with her? He'd never been able to say no to Mabel.

“Okay.” he whispered, guilt smoldering in the pit of his stomach like the embers of a dying fire, “I'll, I'll come with you. But what about everyone here? Bill has control over the town, and who knows how long we have before he decides to go after the whole world!”

“Oh, don't worry about that.” His new Grunkle said, pushing off the ground and bringing the twins in closer to his chest. Dipper lay his head on the man's jacket, breathing in the familiar scent of pine needles, coffee, and smoke. A six fingered hand began to gently rub his back, soothing his nerves and finally stopping his tears, “Bill won't ever be able to leave Gravity Falls. There's an ancient barrier that will keep him trapped. I'll return here and kill him myself, once you two are settled. For now, there's a handyman, a cashier, and a pig who would like to see you two very much.”

“Whuh ‘bout Grunkle Stan?” Dipper murmured, shifting himself so he was closer to Mabel, who quickly wrapped her arms around him.

“He's… very sick right now. He got injured during a monster attack, and got a nasty illness from it. I need to keep him under isolated quarantine, but I promise that, once he's better, you two will be the first to see him.” Ford promised.

“Okay… love you Grunkle Ford. Love you, Mabel.” the boy whispered, finally giving in to the exhaustion brought on by days of little to no food and even less sleep.

“I love you too, Dipping Sauce.” Mabel giggled softly, the sound coming out strangely from her raw throat. 

Ford hummed in agreement and kissed the top of both of their heads before starting back towards Soos and the open rift. The man had volunteered to stay behind and guard the tear in reality when they saw the state of the world, not wanting to risk any dangerous creatures crossing over into their reality. Just as they reached the treeline, however, there was a loud *POP* from behind them.

Ford turned, and his eyes widened when he saw that the large, pink prison bubble, which had previously floated ominously above them, was now disintegrating into nothing, flaking away like burnt paper. Four figures tumbled out and onto the ground a small ways away from where Dipper had been, each one familiar to both the man and the preteen.

“Is that…” Mabel started, eyes widening when she saw herself sit up and look around, face pinched with distress.

“Mnh, I suppose they finally came to their senses.” Ford grumbled, before looking down at Mabel, who was still staring at her doppelganger, “I think it would be best if we took our leave. I haven't stabilized you yet, so it's in our best interest to avoid confrontation.”

Mabel glanced up at her Grunkle, then back at the other Mabel, who had picked something up off the ground. It was Dipper's hat, and the other Mabel was clearly distressed to see her (their?) brother's most treasured accessory so carelessly discarded on the ground, if the look on her face was anything to go off of.

“Okay, Grunkle Ford.” she replied, snuggling in closer to her twin. 

If that other version of her really loved Dipper, then she wouldn't have found him having a panic attack in the dirt, half starved and looking as though a gentle breeze would knock him over.

It would be alright now, though. Mabel would make sure that Dipper was comfortable and fed when they got home, and then they would both get double Waddles’ cuddles and plenty of Mabel Juice. She would even knit him a new hat if they couldn't find a replacement in the gift shop.

It was all going to be okay.

[ghostymarni]

A Job II

TW: fighting, physcial pain descriptions, blood

Aev- mandalorian OC/female reader - chapter 2

chapter 1

(starting her story with a bang, head on. Sorry if this feels cliche, I’m experimenting my writing)

You’re holding your breath the moment you see a thermal body in the room, frozen in place, heart beating hard in your chest.

The body shifts in the seat, and before you’re reacting you’re jumped from behind, pinning you down in a hold.

Arms instantly squeezed to your side in the fall. Your head thrown against the ground knocking the wind out of you, followed by a loud beskar ringing of your bucket; taking most of the impact.

Hissing in pain being tackled to the ground, your vision still wobbly from your late night decisions.

Instantaneously your bucket is shoved into the ground as the attacker shifts their weight pinning you on the floor harder; pulling your arms behind your back in a hold.

You wheeze a choked comeback “What a cheap shot from behind. How pathet-” your attacker re-shoves your head into the ground. Grabbing your blaster from its holster into their own grip, you hear it click behind your head as a warning.

You can’t see anything, but movement from across the room begins rustling, hearing leather shuffle and boots click.

“There’s rumor you’re working undercover for the Coruscant Guard” spurs clinking with each step.

“-taking our bounties.” the shadow croaks. “Now that, affects our business, especially our pay.”

He stands with a few adjusting creaks against the hotel floor, taking slow precise steps toward you.

A wave of panic and instant thoughts that you need to ‘get your armor and get out’, starts running through you over and over.

Thrashing your shoulders side to side, fighting against the attacker who’s pinning you down.

Those click of the boots stop in front of you, halting your half-drunk attempt to escape.

A boot lifts moving your bucket to the side with its point.

“Remove it” he hisses at the body above you.

You’re curving your head to stop them from taking it off, with no avail in your efforts. Bucket thrown clear across the room in a thud, bounce, and roll into the wall.

There’s a pin of silence. You’re bracing for the worst, and he finally speaks again.

“it’s bad for business and well-

we can’t have that, little lady”.

He slowly pushes his boot into you, stepping on your head. the increasing pressure causing you to yell in pain as he steps harder on you, digging your face against the floor.

“Kark! You’re pathetic doing this inna group!” yelling muffled at the floor, tears starting to fall from your eyes.

The bounty hunter stops your torture lesson for a moment waiting for your next words. Their boot pressure pulled back at your weak insult.

Taking advantage of the pause you heckle,

“too bad you’re not good enough to take me down yourself. You had to get help like a-“ your head is bashed into the floor by the body on you.

You take a moment of impact as your nose is gushing, dripping down your face and onto the floor, gasping for air.

You’re buying time. Anything to put off skipping to the payback ending.

“Move!” he croaks, kicking off the body holding you down, following the weight change motion with a kick to your gut by spurred boots.

Heaving yourself forward curling yourself on the floor, you cry an empty wail of pain.

“Kriff off Bane” you spit blood.

“So much for working alone”

he kicks you again, and again, then crouching down over you. The smell of leather, blaster fire, and your own blood taking over your senses.

Cad Bane grabs you by your hair, pulling your face up towards him. Bloody nose bleeding down your face, black eye forming, furrowed brows, gasping to catch your breath.

You’re staring back at him furiously into his red eyes, anger radiating off him.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you mandalorian?”

Grumbling in annoyance, his grip in your hair tightening before he gives a last hard toss, dropping your head the short distance onto the floor.

He didn’t want you dead, not just yet; like a predator playing with its food before the kill.

You’re practically dead weight now anyway. Gasping for air covered in blood, dirt, and bruises, all cut up.

Bane takes a few scuffs back, pushing his leather aside followed by a set of clicks.

You know what happens next, there is no next time. No more gigs. No more ship redemption. No new droid companion, no more, anything.

The pressure is giving in, the weight of the lesson learned is taking over what’s left of your consciousness. Not just from what’s lingering of fading alcohol that seems to be knocked right out of you, but from the constant physical push you’ve been inflicting on yourself for too long. for survival.

The last of your vision is fading, and you’re struggling to keep your eyes open to focus on the bounty hunters.

Your eyes are closing on themselves. It’s-

Spontaneously, shots are sent through the only window that’s bringing in the low contrast of the dim shadows, shooting a bounty hunter, dropping him on the floor next to you. The thud forces you to open your eyes from the vibration.

Crashing through, the door explodes in pieces and smoke, chased by what sounds like troopers, yelling alongside blaster fire. You can’t even wince at the explosion, taking the fallen debris thrown around, whining at the un-braced impact.

Bane and the other hunters take the explosion advantage to shoot their way out, you’re hearing only blasters and flailed screams of those shot down, or potentially used as a shield for a getaway.

There’s a yell and thud from one of the troopers, the hard crunch of plastoid hitting the wall to the floor. Followed by more blaster shots and yelling.

You’re not sure what’s going on at this point, your fight is fading. The ringing in your ears constant, gasps for air getting shorter.

A sudden pressure on your body pushes on your shoulder, a muffle voice repeating over and over until you start to focus in. You manage to come through half looking up at a Coruscant Trooper’s bucket,

“can you hear me?”

“Bring in a med kit! Now!”

There’s a breather on you as suddenly as you can blink. You’re cold.

The darkness is morphing into blurry colors and clearer silhouettes of a shot up hotel room and blown down wall.

Seeing more and more details, attempting to speak not knowing if you’re even moving.

“Ahh…” you breathe

“hey! She’s responding! We need to get her out of here!”

“Ahhr- mmm” you mouth the weak words. The trooper moves in closer trying to read your lips registering what you’re attempting.

Looking around the torn room, he locates your beskar, bucket, and knocked over gear, “Your armor is secure, it’s here.” He affirms.

You feel a sense of relief, half rolling your eyes back, despite the pain knowing it wasn’t taken, it was all you had left.

You couldn’t lose your beskar.

The wavering consciousness starts coming in more and more, exhaustion still fighting over you. Breathing easier again, you take the initiative removing the breather from your face, dropping it on the floor.

The new found focus has you attempting to sit up. insisting to the trooper you’re fine, regardless of the uncontrollable trembling to push yourself up.

Fox comes running through the blown door, he takes a second to register how bad the situation is, before rushing over to you, watching your assisted attempt to stand holding yourself against the wall.

“Troopers!”

Both shifting their buckets toward the awaited command, “I’ll take her from here, collect her armor and any evidence. bag the bodies, send them back for an autopsy report. I need ID’s!”

they nod an affirmative “yes, sir!”

The one helping you stand is passing off your hand to Fox, then quickly retreating to grabbing your belongings.

“Aev, what happened?” He snaps in a half whisper

“I, I was- followed-”, huffing each word as your ribs ache with each gasp.

“You need medical attention.” reaching to catch your waist, watching you falter in a sway every few breath’s.

“I’ll- I’ll be… fine. Like always” the swelling in your left eye has begun closing part of your vision, blood on your face and clothes half dried up and sticky.

“No you’re not, you were almost killed, Aev.” He growls

“It- it’s just. Part of the” gasping and flinching in between your few words, “-just the job.”

You’re expressing a wince practically stuck on your face.

Fox holding you steady, and subconsciously you’re melting into him, the warmth radiating off his armor shattering what was left of your fight.

Tears are falling that you can’t stop, trying to hide it unsuccessfully, turning your head staring at the ground.

Wiping the tears and grime with your leather sleeve in a shaking notion, huffing a skipped breath cry.

The commander leans in trying to catch your eyes, “I can’t have you like this, I’m taking you to medical. Don’t attempt to keep pushing right now. ”

“Why does it matter if I’m beat up or not” wheezing a cry, “-It comes with the job, this lifestyle.” You’re not looking at him, feeling his gaze burning through you.

Fox gives you a moment, hesitant to respond over you uncertain what to say next, “No. Not like this. I just, I need- I need you in good health.”

“I need the credits until I find a ship. I won’t be useless. I can’t be-”, your final protest on the subject practically a hard whisper.

Throwing a hand onto his plastoid to catch yourself in a frantic wobble, the other still propped on the wall.

Fox still gripped around your waist, your eyes begin half closing as you release the wall to hold your head.

You’re woozy. the beating and blood loss finally taking a toll on you after your second wave of fight.

“F-Fox…” you whisper falling forward, fainting into him. He catches you with his other arm holding you for a moment in a secure hold. Fox exhales a stressed sigh of worry, taking in the situation.

“Stubborn woman.” He whispers shaking his head.

watching you breathe shallow against him. he takes another soft exhale, leaning in, touching his bucket against your forehead, “Mesh’la, you’re gonna be fine. I promise.”

Picking you up with both arms in a resting carry across his chest, Fox calls out to his men,

“troopers! wrap up the investigation. dispatch the medic droids on stanby for our arrival!”

“Yes, commander!”

There’s bright white lights starting to seep through your closed eyes. Subtle beeping, gears whirring, and metal clicks fading in.

Your weak resolve forcing your eyes to focus. “Where, what?

-Where, am, i?”

The bright lights having you scrunching your face in response.

There’s a mid-tone beep, followed by a monotone voice, “she is awake, commander.” The medical droid whirrs over, scanning across you. You’re laid out in a medical bed and clothes, the material softly scratching at your small adjusting movements.

The door slides open, echoing foot steps approaching the droid.

“How is she?” A calm voice asks.

You’re not sure who it is, all your senses overloaded. The steps shift taking a few steps back, clicking the lights off.

The scrunched scowl you felt stuck to your expression relaxes. You think you hear a chuckled hum, from your reaction.

The droid relays to the man, “her injuries are clean and healing accordingly. She needs monitored rest to make a full recovery from the inflicted cracked ribs. Blood levels returned to sustainable levels, concussion mino-”

“thank you, I’ll take it from here” he cuts in softly. “That will be all.”

The droid stops, whirring over to the door that slides shut after it.

Footsteps gently march over to you, stoping near your head. They sigh softly.

“Hey little ‘ika, how’re you feeling?”

Your head rolls over to the voice, “thorn?”

He lets out a soft laugh, “yeah it’s me, you took quite the beating. How do you feel?”

“Confused. What happened?” you whisper looking up at his red and white bucket staring down at you. Arms behind his back as he’s slightly leaning over you in the dark room.

Thorn looks around for a moment analyzing the medical gear humming in the half lit room. Removing his bucket placing it on the bed by your hands.

“How much do you remember?”

“Am I being interrogated?” You quip

“No, i just want to know to fill in the pieces.” Thorn smiles in a soft response.

Taking a moment to finish focusing on him, you inhale a deep breath, exhaling trying to recall, shifting your gaze to the ceiling as if to visually see what happened.

“I remember having drinks, then Fox- briefed me on a job. I remember leaving, and running into someone before-” your eyes waver back and forth not blinking from the ceiling.

“I was ambushed where i was staying. Threw me around a bit” you exhale.

“A bit? ‘Ika, you really took it the other day”.

You shoot him a look of concern

“The other day?”

Thorn pulls back to straighten up with a saddened look forming on his face, shifting in his armor.

“It’s been 3 days, Aev. it’s 2100 hours right now” he cuts off letting you take in the information.

“im sorry to push but-

do you remember why they attacked you?”

Breaking your staring, you shift your eyes down for a moment hesitant to admit, your thoughts coming rushing in at once,

“they found out i was taking undercover bounties from the guard. And it was taking away from their pay outs.”

Changing his weight from one foot to the other, thorn lets out a heavy sigh now rubbing the back of his neck.

“We’ll have to discuss this with him, he’s not happy.”

You frown at Thorn, “Fox? Where is he?”

He freezes for a moment contemplating his answer, “The commander has been busy working more than as usual, he’s had me on your watch when he can’t. He’s stopped by every day, but you’re under an alias at the moment-”

thorn cutting out as the door slides open with heavy boots approaching closer.

“Thorn, out. I need to talk to her.”

[savurai]

i could hurt you.                                         i think that’s what i want.

[sacredsorceress]

Worth the Risk || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: when bucky and sam get captured you have to go in alone to save them leading to a worried, overprotective bucky who cares about you a bit more than a teammate should

a/n: reblogs and replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 2.2k

warnings: description of violence, injuries, a gun, dagger and blood, swearing, angst w/ happy ending

masterlist || taglist

“Bucky?” You whispered through the earpiece. “Sam? Where are you guys-”

Sitting in the van, you began to grow worried as you couldn’t find any of your teammates on the screen after they had turned around a corner. Tapping the earpiece, you were about to speak again when you heard Sam’s voice on the other end.

“Y/n?”

Sitting forward in your chair, you breathed a premature sigh of relief.

“Sam? Thank God you guys are okay.” You told him. “I was worried when-”

“Y/n, listen,” Sam cut you off, his voice a near whisper. “They got us- me and Bucky- but I think you’ll be able to take them out if you think you’re ready for it.”

You began to feel your heart race in your chest just at the proposition. Although you had joined the group almost half a year ago, you had never gone on a mission by yourself- always having others to back you up, but you knew Sam well enough that he wouldn’t have suggested the idea lightly. If he asked you to go in alone... you knew it was because there was no other choice.

“Okay.” You said. “I can do this, Cap. I’ll be there soon- just hold on.”

With that, you left the vehicle, making your way into the building. When the door of the facility closed behind you, you raised your gun.

“You shouldn’t have told her to come in here.” Bucky told Sam, pacing around their cell. “If we couldn’t handle it together, what makes you think that she can do it by herself? You’re going to get her killed-”

“Buck,” Sam said firmly. “I know you’re worried about her, but she can handle herself. She’s our only shot of getting out of here so I’m gonna need you to calm down.”

Sitting himself down in the corner of the room, Bucky said nothing more to Sam, instead placing his head in his hands.

Bucky knew logistically that you could handle yourself- you were on the team for a reason- but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry about you. He worried about you all the time- even in training- nagging Sam if he threw you down a bit too hard and feeling his heart drop to his stomach when bruises littered your body after a mission. He hated seeing you get hurt, but as he sat in the cell with Sam, knowing that you were coming into the building all on your own- he felt as though he was going to be sick.

Now he wasn’t there to watch your back. He wasn’t there to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. He wasn't there to make sure you didn't get yourself killed- the thought of it too horrible for him to even allow himself to think about. He worried because he knew in your line of business, every wrong move could be fatal and he couldn’t bare the thought of not having you by his side every day.

Listening to the sound of water leaking from the sealing above him, Bucky prayed you would be alright.

Turning a corner inside of the building, you were hoping the same.

Peaking around the edge of a wall you spotted two men, armed with batons. Taking a deep breath, you aimed for one of the men’s bullet proof vest, taking the shot and knocking him to the ground. Immediately the other man ran towards you with the baton raised in his hand. 

Ducking as he swung the baton, you threw a punch to the man’s stomach, knocking him backwards, but just as you did the other man hit you in your back with the baton.

“Fuck!” You screamed out in pain, taking the man’s arm between your knees. You pulled the baton out of his hand as you stretched it in the other direction, causing him to yelp out in pain. 

Once in your hand, you spun around, swinging the man in the face with the baton, knocking him unconscious. Dropping it to the floor, you pulled your taser from your belt, shocking the other man, forcing him to the ground.

“Y/n?” You heard Sam ask through the earpiece. “Y/n are you alright?”

Shoving the taser back in its slot and raising your gun once again, you stepped over the two men’s unconscious bodies, running down the hallway.

“I am now.” You huffed, placing one of your hands on your lower back. “When this is over, you’re paying for my chiropractor.”

Turning another corner, you were met with a man and a woman standing at the end of the hallway.

“Are you guys always in pairs?” You asked. “Frankly I think it’s unfair.”

When they said nothing, just raising their batons from their belts, you spoke up again.

“Where are my friends?” You asked more seriously.

“You’re about to find out.”

The woman running at you first, you hit the butt of your gun in her face causing her to wobble backwards but the second you did, you felt a burst of searing hot pain run throughout your face as the baton collided with your nose. Stumbling backwards, you felt as another of the baton’s swings hit your midsection, causing you to double over in pain.

The man tugged your collar as you felt another blow connect with your face.

Wheezing, you dropped the gun to your side.

Standing in front of you, the woman slid her baton back into her belt.

“See?” she said. “I’m sure your friends will be happy to see-”

As she spoke you carefully slid your dagger out of your belt, but before she was able to finish her sentence, you threw it cleanly at her, the dagger jamming itself through her shoulder, sticking her to the wall.

“Shit!” She shouted in pain.

Immediately afterwards, the man grabbed your coat shoving you against the wall only to throw another punch to your mouth. Rather than giving him the satisfaction of yelping out in pain, you headbutt the man, causing him to stumble backwards into his partner. Grabbing the baton from his hand, you swung it over his head, knocking him unconscious.

Spitting blood onto the ground, you heaved as you picked up your gun and the keys from the man’s waist, making your way over to the room on the right.

Swinging the door open, your eyes immediately fell onto the reinforced cell in front of you, Bucky and Sam rushing to the front. Stumbling over to the cell, you unlocked the door, swinging it open and leaning against it.

“Y/n?” You heard Bucky’s voice first as he ran over to you. “Fuck, look at you.”

Moving his hands to cup your face, not being able to help yourself from wincing, Bucky could feel his heart shatter in his chest. Sure, you had a few bruises here and there in the past but never this bad.

You had a deep gash across your nose that he was sure would need stitches along with a cut along your lip and a large bruise forming around your eye- and that was just your face.

Looking up and seeing his worried eyes, you shot him a quaint, bloody smile.

“You should see the other guys.” You joked.

You attempted to laugh, only to wheeze and begin to cough.

“Y/n this isn’t funny.” He said seriously. “You could have died. Sam should have never asked-”

“Bucky,” You cooed, reaching your hands up to cup his face. “I’m okay. Besides, I couldn’t leave my favorite boys in here could I?”

Feeling your fingertips against his face, he couldn’t help but melt into your touch. You always managed to make him a lovesick mess as if he was still fifteen and not a one hundred and six year-old man who had been to hell and back.

“Hate to break up the reunion,” Sam said. “But those guys will only be out for so long. We got to get out of here.”

-

After falling asleep on the car ride back to the Compound, you woke up in bed, the dim glow of the lamp shining on the night stand above you. Opening your eyes, you pushed yourself up in the bed, only for a shooting pain to spread throughout your torso. Not able to stop yourself, you yelped out in pain.

“Hey, hey,” You heard none other than Bucky’s voice beside you, one of his hands coming to rest on yours while the other adjusted your pillow. “Take it easy.”

“I am, Doc.” You lied, leaning against your newly adjusted pillow.

Tucking you in, Bucky shook his head, leaning on the nightstand beside you.

“We should have never let you go in alone.” He sighed, leaning his head on his hand. “I just felt sick the entire time. You could have died, Y/n. If they just hit you in the wrong spot... I’m never letting you go in alone again. I’m not letting you leave my sight.”

During your time as a member of the group, you and Bucky had grown incredibly close and during the past few months maybe even closer than friends. It was normal for him to worry- you never even had to wonder where he was during missions because he always had your back- but looking at his face now you could tell just how worried he had been and you couldn’t help but feel your heart break.

“Bucky,” You hummed. “You go on dangerous missions all the time alone. How am I any different?”

A silence settled over the two of you as Bucky squeezed your hand. 

Not meeting your eyes, he spoke up again.

“Because I can’t lose you.” Bucky said, his voice nearly a whisper. “I can’t even think about what would happen if anything happened to you, Y/n. Even seeing the cuts and bruises on your face? I’m... I’m not the Winter Soldier anymore, but I think if you put me in a room with those people I would kill them for what they did to you. I almost broke us out of the cell myself because I hated the idea so much of you going in there on your own. If something happens to me... it’s different. Nothing can happen to you, Y/n. Nothing.”

Staring at the super soldier sat at your bedside, you began to feel tears prick in your eyes. You had cared for Bucky in a way that you had been too afraid to admit- not wanting to ruin your friendship- but as he sat there, confessing his feelings for you, you couldn’t help but feel your heart tug in your chest, just wanting him.

“Do you love me?” You asked finally before you could stop yourself.

Looking up at your injured face, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He wasn’t able to read you in the moment at all, your face straight, seriousness laced in ever bit. All he could think was that even with the black eye and the stitches across your nose, he had never seen someone as beautiful as you.

He knew his answer. There wasn’t a single part of him that doubted it.

“Yes.” 

Hearing his answer, you stared at him and smiled.

“Are you sure?” You asked. “Do you love me as more than a teammate-”

“Y/n,” He cut you off, squeezing your hand once again. “As much as I love working with you, every time you call me your ‘teammate’ I want to go find a punching bag.”

Trying to bite back your smile, you couldn’t help but chuckle.

You hated calling him “only” your teammate just as much as he did- if not more.  Knowing that he hated it just as much as you the entire time you used the word to disguise your true feelings made you feel as if a weight had been lifted off of your chest despite the aches that still consumed your being.

Bucky was more than your teammate, he was your partner.

“Oh Thank God.” You laughed. “I can’t tell you how many I’ve knocked off the hook after you called me your ‘friend’.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he leaned in closer to you.

“What are you saying?” He asked.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you reached your free hand up to his hair, brushing it back with your hand.

“I’m saying,” You smiled. “that I love you too and that I’m not going anywhere, Buck.”

Leaning into your touch, a smile finally reached across his face. “You know, if it weren’t for your stitches, I would kiss you right now.”

“So my face isn’t too messed up then, right, Doc?” You asked. “If you still want to kiss me and all...”

Reaching your hand up to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss to your skin.

“You could never look bad, doll.” He hummed. “But promise me you won’t do that to me again. I almost had a heart attack, Y/n.”

Leaning your head against your pillow, admiring him, you smiled.

“I promise, Buck.”

[chasing-classics]

Our Little Secret Sessions- Nate Jacobs x Reader (2)

Pairing(s): Nate Jacobs x Reader

  Warning(s): SMUT, language, toxic relationships, older reader, NON-CON

  Summary: After landing a job as the high school’s new counselor you settle into your new home, unaware of what danger lurks just outside your front door. In Part Two, you meet another one of your students, only to be interrupted by the boy next door.

Part 1

 A couple of weeks had passed since your encounter with Nate, but the fear of what the teenage was capable of remained fresh in your mind. You could never forget the dominant, controlling look in his eyes when he had threatened you in your office. Since then, you had been unable to sleep properly and you found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder. On the bright side, you had not encountered him face-to-face since that day, but his presence could always be felt never too far away. He was like some sort of predator, a beast lurking in a dense jungle. Eyes sharp and ready to go in for the kill at any moment.

 ‘’Um miss?’’ a voice broke you out of your thoughts.

 You quickly snapped your head up, sitting straight up in your office chair as a young girl stood in the doorway. She was average height for her age, dark hair, glamorous makeup, and full lips. You had seen her walking down the hall a few times, an air of confidence always surrounding her. She reminded you of the girls you hated when you were in high school.

  ‘’I’m so sorry, please come in,’’ you extended your hand, gesturing to one of the empty chairs or the couch in front of your desk. She nodded, shutting the door behind her as she made herself comfortable.

 ‘’I’m sorry, I’m still getting used to everything here. I’m Miss y/l/n,’’ you held out your hand for her to shake. She looked down at it before slowly returning the gesture. Whether she just wasn’t used to people being polite to her or she just didn’t like you, you weren’t sure.

 ‘’Maddy,’’ she replied, her expression unreadable.

 ‘’Well how can I help you Maddy?’’ you offered a kind smile despite her semi-cold attitude.

 Her eyes flickered, searching for the right words to express her thoughts. Your brow furrowed as she visibly struggled.

 ‘’This is a safe place Maddy, whatever you tell me stays between us,’’ you encouraged.

 She bit down on her lip, hands twisting and fumbling in her lap as her leg bounced. Finally, she met your concerned gaze with a sigh.

 ‘’Do you think sexuality is a spectrum?’’ she blurted out.

  The question took you back, it taking everything in your for your mouth to stay shut.

  ‘’Well, in my opinion it certainly can be. There doesn’t necessarily have to be a one-size-fits-all or black and white approach to it. But I really think it depends on you and your preferences-‘’

 ‘’N-no. Not me,’’ she cut you off, still seemingly nervous. You arched a brow, trying to decipher what she was talking about.

 ‘’Is everything ok, Maddy?’’

  ‘’Look there’s this. . .guy who I’m seeing. And I found-‘’

 Knocking on your door made the two of you jump. A lump formed in your throat when the handle twisted and the door opened, revealing none other than Nate fucking Jacobs.

 You quickly cast a glance at Maddy who, for some reason or another, looked almost as petrified as you felt.

 ‘’Oh sorry Miss y/l/n, I didn’t know you were busy,’’ Nate practically hissed out the last word as his gaze fell upon Maddy.

  ‘’Mister Jacobs, I’m with Maddy right now. If you’d like we can schedule a meeting-‘’

 ‘’No! No, it’s ok, miss. I’ll be late for class anyway,’’ Maddy scrambled to collect her bag and rush out the door.

 ‘’I can write you a hallpass,’’ your words jumbled, practically pleading with the girl to stay so that you were not left alone with this sociopath. The smirk on Nate’s face made your blood run cold.

 Maddy murmured a quick ‘’bye’’ before the door shut closed behind Nate’s lanky figure. He scoffed, steadily turning his attention back to you as you shakily stood.

 ‘’You can’t just show up like that. I have a job to do and anyone could-‘’

 ‘’Take your pants off,’’ he abruptly interrupted you.

 A pitiful squeak, similar to that of a puny mouse cornered in a snake pit, escaped your lips as the air left your lungs.

 ‘’What?’’ you felt your heart began to beat faster as Nate took a step towards you after locking your door, sealing your fate.

 ‘’I said, take your pants off. And bend over your desk,’’ his deep voice shook you to your core.

 ‘’Nate, please,’’ you whispered, trying to sum up as much courage and dominance as you could as you stood straight and met his terrifying gaze.

 He didn’t respond as his hands descended on you. One locked itself onto the back of your neck and played with your hair as the other began to roughly grope your breasts through your flimsy shirt. His mouth pressed rough, hearted kissed onto the column of your neck as his breath fanned hot flames onto your soft skin. You felt paralyzed as his grip tightened, you having to bite your lips from crying out.

 You jumped when his large hand made its’ way underneath your shirt and the material of your bra. He easily captured a nipple between his index and middle finger and began to pinch and squeeze and tug on the sensitive bud, expertly rolling it however way he sought fit.

  ‘’L-leave,’’ you whispered. Half of you was praying and the other was making a rather pathetic attempt to reestablish authority over him.

 ‘’If I walk out that door, everyone will know how you slept with a student,’’ he threatened, biting at the soft juncture between your neck and shoulder, making you hiss in pain.

 ‘’I didn’t know!’’ you whimpered, cursing the way your body reacted to both his touch and his voice.

 Your nipples were overstimulated at this point, any rubbing against your bra or touch from Nate’s fingers had you mewling like a helpless kitten. Your knees locked together as you felt the heat expand downward from your arousal.

  ‘’The sooner you give in, the sooner I leave. The less chance you have of someone catching us,’’ he groaned, grinding his thickness into your lower abdomen so you felt what was awaiting you.

  You let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly as you nervously fumbled with your jeans. Nate all but growled when he saw the delicate lace material that hid your womanhood. His breathing labored and his cock twitched. Since he had last had you he had messed around with Maddy a few times, trying to placate his urges, trying to forget about his attractive new neighbor and school counselor. But something about you, the way you were allured him to you. He found himself craving you, imagining your cries and moans as he thrusted wildly into Maddy. He found himself becoming rougher at the thought of having you once again, all to himself. His little taboo. Today, he found he couldn’t wait any longer and found himself at your office door, ready to continue your secret little sessions.

 By the time your jeans had pooled around your ankles and your underwear shortly followed, your boots providing you with a little more height than usual, Nate grew tired of waiting. He shoved your paperwork, cleverly unhooking your phone in case anyone called, and shoved you down by your neck so that your body was painfully bent over the unforgiving surface.

 Your cheek pressed against the wood of the desk, your eyes searching for anything to focus on as you tried to block out the jingling of his belt and the sound of his zipper being pulled down. You felt the heat of his cock at your entrance as Nate folded himself onto you, his breath hitting your cheek and neck as his toned abs gently grazed your spine and ass.

 ‘’Be quiet,’’ he warned, one massive hand wrapping around your face to cover your mouth. You winced as he spit down onto your spread pussy, using his thumb as makeshift lubricate. He hummed in approval at the feel of your arousal and you didn’t need to face him to know he had a chesire cat grin on his pale face. You could feel him retreat his hips before he lunged forward and sheathed his massive dick into your tight canal. You screamed against his hand, although it was practically just muffled mewls given his tight grip as he began rotating his hips, stretching your tightness to welcome whatever he was about to give you.

 ‘’Shhhh, good girl, look at you taking it like a champ,’’ he mocked as he reluctantly pulled out, only to violently snap forward, your body lunging with his brutal movements.

 Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you were ashamed to admit they were in pleasure. The feeling of complete fulness outweighed the pain, but you made a pitiful attempt to reach behind you and shove him back. You yelped as his other hand locked your wrists and pinned them to the small of your back, your body helpless and completely on display as Nate continued his brutal pace. He felt every quiver, every squeeze that your sweet pussy gave him. He nearly came within the first few minutes of being inside of you, but he managed to hold off. The way you squealed under him, your smaller body rocking in tune with his thrusts, and the way your tight pink pussy latched onto him to the point he dragged your body back as he pulled out was nothing that he had ever had before. He pressed more of his weight into you, trying to keep his own grunts and moans quiet as he gripped your face and wrists.

 ‘’So good,’’ he kept repeating in your neck as he hammered into you. The wet noises and sound of his hips violently meeting your backside filled you with fear that someone would come in and catch you. Your squealing and cries slowly transformed into needy moans and whimpers, you faintly acknowledged your juices beginning to drip down your inner thighs and you felt your insides begin to coil.

 ‘’N-Nate,’’ you breathlessly cried against his palm, attempting to suck in as much air through your nose as you could. He bite down on your shoulder, tongue lapping at the faint angry marks, groaning as his pace did not let out. He was impossibly thick and girthy, filling you and hitting your cervix with every ram of his hips. Your hands twitched and knees buckled as his cock began throbbing along your velvet walls. You couldn’t help but squeeze him as your own climax began to form, causing him to hiss against your shoulder.

  ‘’Gonna fill you up, oh fuck,’’ you faintly deciphered him growling out as you were forced to take his thrusts.

 Your clit throbbed almost painfully, knuckles turning lighter as your fists clenched against your back. He abruptly released your wrists, opting to clutch the curve of your hip as he forced your body back to meet his awaiting thrusts, making you cry out every time he angrily entered you. As you cried out with each thrust, he groaned, feeling your release incredibly close. He angled his hips slightly higher and dove in, grinning as he heard your moans, your pussy locking onto his dick as your orgasm coated him. He slowed his pace just to watch the way he glistened from your juices, enjoying the sinful squelching noises you both produced as he shoved himself repeatedly into you, before regaining his violent momentum.

 His grip on you tightened impossibly as you lay limp underneath him, lost in the waves of your release. All you felt was your body being forced back and forth as Nate impaled you onto his angry member. You swore you saw actual stars bouncing around your vision before you were forced back down into reality as he removed his hand from your mouth (finally) and gripped your throat. Through his animalistic movements he angled your face back to meet his in a bruising, possessive kiss as he ensured every inch of him was buried to the hilt inside of you as he shuddered. You groaned as the warmth of his cum filled your abused pussy. He moved against you one last time before slowly pulling you out and stuffing himself back into his jeans and zipping it back up. You winced when you felt a finger trace your lower lips and shove some of his load back into your sore pussy.

 ‘’Get dressed,’’ his voice conveyed his relaxation and his gaze was surprising soft as he helped you stand up.

 You didn’t speak as you redressed, your face still flushed with a postcoital glow. He tucked some of your hair out of your face as his eyes searched yours, his thoughts unreadable. But just as his expression lingered on borderline affection, that cruel teenage-boy smirk reappeared as his hand thumbed the base of your neck in a warning grip.

 ‘’I’m going to need that hall pass.’’

[noteguk]

this extra happens in the same night as the tribulation drabble, in case some of you want to know why Jungkook got into a fight.

warnings; angst, violence (fist fight), mentions of blood, lewd language, major prick behavior, Sehun is pretty misogynistic, drinking, jk is feeling sad, Taehyung tries his best but doesn’t succeed

~

“See something you like?”

Seeing was a strong word to use, considering that Jungkook’s mind was flying miles away from that dirty bar, unaware of the conversation that bubbled around him. He blinked once, twice, realizing that his gaze had gotten stuck in a group of girls across the place, which was the perfect opening for his old “friend” to start pestering him.

Jungkook never liked Sehun, not even when they were kids and there was still a semblance of innocence between the two. He had absolutely no clue why Taehyung still hung out with him, especially after Sehun had decided to put his greasy hands all over the place, trying to piggyback off the money that the Kim family had. But he guessed that Taehyung was a little naive when it came to that, considering that he had disregarded all possible warning signs that his friend was one of the biggest douchebags in the world.

Nevertheless, he would figure it out soon enough.

“I’m not paying attention,” Jungkook mumbled and took another sip from his bottle, the liquid burning like fire on its way down. He didn’t remember how much alcohol he had consumed, and that was never a good sign. But he couldn’t think straight when you were in his mind.

The other man scoffed and turned around on his chair as if to check that the girls were still there. “That’s news coming from you, Jeon. Sure you don’t wanna get a taste of that?”

It was a bait — and Jungkook knew it was. Sehun was the kind of person that liked to see how far people would take his provocations, how long it lasted before they decided to snap. And then he’d know their weak spot. It was a dirty, sneaky little game, and Jungkook refused to be a part of it. That’s why Sehun kept trying, kept pushing.

“I’m with someone right now,” Jungkook said simply. And he wished the conversation had stopped right there.

The other man scoffed, eyeing Taehyung’s worried expression before allowing for his gaze to trail back to Jungkook. He knew he was getting somewhere interesting. “You mean you already have someone you’re fucking tonight? Lucky.”

He could’ve said yes, and ended that issue before it had a chance to reach irreversible levels. But Jungkook was drunk, and Jungkook was down. So he replied, “No. We’re dating.”

Sehun didn’t waste one second before he bursted out laughing, a fry hanging from in between his fingers, wiggling around as he waved his hands, trying to catch a breath. “No way. You?” He exclaimed, sighing before shoving the fry inside his mouth. “Tell me how long that lasts.”

There: the trap was set, and Jungkook was walking right into it. He lowered his bottle on the wooden table, his face impassive when he asked, “Wanna say that again?”

“Jungkook…” Taehyung trailed off, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. He was in damage control mode, and he was pretty sure where this situation would escalate towards. “I’m sure that’s not what Sehun meant.”

And yet, the smile on Sehun’s face only grew wider, more satisfied. He was used to shitting on people with little to no consequence, and he had no reason to believe that things would be any different that night — not when Taehyung always kept his friend on a short leash. “Oh no, I meant that. But I don’t think I lied, did I?” He was looking straight at Jungkook as he spoke, a devilish glint in his eyes almost daring him to curse him back. “Don’t look at me like that, man. You know it’s true. For someone to get involved with you it’s either because she’s just as fucked up, or because she’s trying to fix you.” He shrugged, leaning back on his chair. “Either way, it won’t last.”

Jungkook was surprisingly tranquil, which was probably the biggest, brightest red flag in the world. Taehyung knew his friend, of course, but Sehun only thought he had won that little back and forth. “You sure you wanna say that?” He gave him one last chance to take it back, but pushed his own chair back a little — because he knew the other man wasn’t going to.

Sehun didn’t notice. Taehyung did. Taehyung was ready to intervene when his friend laughed even louder, crossing his arms. “Yeah. Why not? Actually, better question: why are you so worked up?” He scoffed, but his smirk didn’t subside. “Shit, Jeon, you’re making me interested over here. If that chick sucked your dick that well just pass me her number, we can sha—“

Sehun was on the floor before he could finish his sentence, the wooden chair falling beside his head with a deafening bang. His hands were covering his face, a thick splatter of blood all over his crooked nose, lips, his palms. He looked up at Jungkook with fury and confusion mixing inside his eyes, getting back on his feet before spitting, “You fucking dog,” and hitting Jungkook right back.

And it was only a blur from there. As it often was.

[seiyasabi]

Momma’s Boy

(This is a Yandere Severus Snape x Hufflepuff! Female Reader story :)) Sorry if this is too OOC!

TW: Bullying!, unhealthy feelings!, manipulation!, Mommy kink!, face sitting!, creampie!, Femdom!, consensual sex!, etc..

Please proceed with caution!)

A wide hand smacks his books from his hands, casting everything onto the cobblestone floor. A soft sigh leaves the blach haired man’s mouth, as he slowly looks up from his belongings, to see a smirking Sirius Black. 

“Watch where you’re going, Snape-boy,” The four males let out ugly laughs, eyes filled with mockery. Severus says nothing, moving to pick up his things, only to be stopped by James. 

“Don’t think that we’ll let you off the hook that easily,” The brunet’s glasses gleam with a dark delight, making the bullied boy gulp in fear, “We’ve seen you creep around that cute hufflepuff- what was her name again?” He pretends to think, allowing a grinning Peter to take over. 

“Yeah, you’ve been creeping around that cutie, (Your Name), for far too long. We’ve noticed you following her like a kicked puppy,” Remus shoves Severus into the wall, causing the 6’1 (1.85 m) man to hit it harshly. 

“Don’t think we haven’t noticed you telling her lies about us,” Confusion is clear on the tall man’s face, causing all four of them to scoff, “She refuses to hang out with us, because she claims we harass you! That’s not true, is it, Snape-boy?” 

“I-well, uhm-”

“I-well, uhm,” James mocks, a knowing grin on his devilish features, “Don’t be nervous, we won’t hurt you.”

“Well, you lot haven’t been too kind to me these past few years,” More scoffs echo off the cobblestone walls, making the tall man feel small. 

“That’s not true, and you know it. We’ve been joking around with you, because we’re friends, aren’t we?” Remus reassures condescendingly, “Plus, friends tell friends when they’re wrong. You’re wrong for pursuing (Your Name), because Remus, here,” He slaps the dirty blond man on the back good-naturedly, “Liked her first. So, having you around, writing in your creepy notebooks about her, will no longer be appreciated.” 

An angry flush covers Snape’s pale cheeks, “It-it’s not like that! (Your Name) is my friend, please don’t make me-”

“Make you? We never make you do anything. We’re just suggesting you leave her alone, unless you want us to take matters into our own hands.” 

Sweat beads on the brow of the black haired man, as he tried to look around for anyone willing to help. No one besides the five of them are in the hall. 

“No,” The four raise a collective eyebrow at his disobedience, “No, I won’t stop being friends with (Your Name). I don’t care what you do to me.”

“That’s sweet, really, but I’m going to have to change your mind,” Remus snarls, his hands balling into fists. In a swift motion, the dirty blond man starts to punch at Severus’ face and chest. The tall man doesn’t have time to put his hands up, getting wailed in the head and torso multiple times. 

The blond’s friends jump in as well, quickly bringing their victim to the floor. Their kicks and hits are rapid paced, disorienting him relatively quickly. He curls into the fetus position, trying to protect his head, luckily stopping their punches. 

His assault continues for a few moments more, before he’s dragged to his feet, and held against the wall by the collar of his shirt, “Are you going to leave her alone now?” 

Snape shakes his head, blood dripping down his face, entire body aching, “No, I won’t. I let you lot walk all over me for far too long. We’re in our last year, why are you acting as if we’re first years?” 

Remus tightens his grip around his collar, teeth bared like an animal, “That’s the wrong answer.”

The blond raises a fist to punch him once more, only to be stopped by a familiar voice. 

“What are you doing?” Your concerned voice rings through the hall, along with your running footsteps. Hurrying up to the group of boys, you start to shove at Remus, trying to break his hold on your close friend (crush), “Let him go! Are you crazy?” 

Your friends are seen down the hall, looking at you in both surprise and slight disdain, “(Your Name), stay out of their business. Once they settle it, everything will be fine-”

“You can’t honestly think that I’ll let them hurt Severus! He’s our friend, and-”

“Stop standing up for him, he’s a total creep. The Marauders are doing you a favour-” You block out what your friends are saying, continuing to push at the blond’s hands. 

“Stop it, Remus! Just leave him alone!” He quickly pulls away, causing you to sigh in relief, only for you to be the one pinned against the wall. Your friend is being held by the blond’s lackeys, holding him back from helping you. Your other friends watch on in horror.

“Why must you always get in my way, Love? I’m trying to teach him a lesson,” You wrinkle your nose in disgust, trying to wriggle out of his grip. 

“Don’t call me that. Just leave Severus and I alone. I understand that you have taken a liking towards me, but that doesn’t excuse your horrid behaviour. If anything, it makes me dislike you! You’re nasty, big headed, crude, and mean for virtually no reason! I don’t understand why you and your friends act this way-”

“He doesn’t deserve your affection!” He blurts out without thinking, his grip on your wrists tightening, “He hangs around you like a dark shadow, he makes everyone around him uncomfortable-”

“I think he’s cute,” You snap out uncharacteristically, “In fact, him following me around is harmless; you following me around, on the other hand, is very harmful. People are afraid to talk to me because of you, and he’s one of the only people who stayed being my friend. I don’t want to hear you talk badly about him, when he has made my life better than it was before.”

Remus releases you after a long moment of silence, a hurt look on his handsome features, “Fine. Stay with the freak if you want to, just don’t come crying to me-”

“I won’t. I won’t seek you out, ever,” The blond motions towards his friends, prompting them to release your friend. You hurry to the dark haired man, cupping his face with soft hands, “Are you alright, Severus? They didn’t hurt you too badly did they?” His lip trembles, signaling oncoming tears, prompting you to turn towards your friends and wave off their concern, “It’s alright, you guys go to class, I’ll take him to the nurse.”

They stalked off, Remus constantly looking back at you. Unfortunately for him, all of your attention is on a certain tall man. 

“Come along, Sev, let’s go to the nurse,” He shakes his head as he sobs uncontrollably, “No? Well, I can’t let you stay battered… Do you want to go to my dormitory? I’ll heal you there,” He nods, allowing you to half-drag-half-pull him towards the Hufflepuff dorm. You’d picked up his things and set them in your satchel, before heading off. Many cast the Slytherin man questioning looks, but quickly realised who was helping him. You’re known as one of the kindest souls at Hogwarts, so it’s not too unlike you to help the freaks of the school. 

Once in your room, you help him sit on your full size mattress. You share the room with only one other girl, leaving two empty beds between the both of you. Luckily, she’s out of the room, most likely at her boyfriend’s dorm room. 

Sitting beside him, you quickly pull out your wand, “This might feel a bit weird, but I promise I’m helping,” You murmur a healing spell to yourself, watching as his skin becomes smooth and even toned once more, “There we go! Good as-oh no, why are you crying again? Did it hurt?” 

Hearing your distraught voice, he tries to comfort you whilst bawling his eyes out, “Nu-no, no, you du-did nothing wu-wrong,” He throws his arms around you, bringing you into a tight hug, “It-it’s just… You treat me so well, and-and I love you so much-” He cuts himself off to hide his face in your neck. Oh no, he just accidentally confessed!

You giggle to yourself at his shy behaviour, and run a hand through his messy hair, “It’s because I love you too, silly,” When you say that, Severus practically feels his soul leave his body. His Darling loves him?

“You-you love me too?” Nodding against him, you cuddle him sweetly. You rub his back reassuringly, rocking him slightly. 

“Yep! I’ve liked you for the past few years, but I never had the courage to confess,” He raises his head, looking at you with watery eyes. 

“Really?” When you nod, he can’t help himself, “Can I- Can I please have a kiss?” 

“Of course!” You lean forward, giving him a sweet peck. Severus practically creams his pants at the feeling of your lips on his. Seeing his bright red face, you frown a bit, moving his hair out of his face, “Are you alright? Did I make you feel uncomfortable?” 

“No! No, it was nice,” A dreamy smile crosses his handsome features, as he leans in again, “Can I please have another one?” Smiling, you nod, smooching him softly once more. 

This, in turn, turns into a whole makeout session. You slide onto his lap, making it easier for you to reach his mouth. Your new seating arrangements allow you to feel his hard cock under your ass, a small smile quirking its way onto your lips, “Are you excited, Sevvy?” You hear a small whimper in response, causing you to giggle, “Do you want me to help you?”

“Please?” Instead of responding, you start to grind against his clothed cock. Your panty clad cunny is directly against his fly, your skirt just barely covering your ass. Grabbing his hands, you place them on your hips, their massive size making you feel secure. Severus whines at your grinding movement, hips bucking into your own. To silence him, you give him an open mouthed kiss, your tongue dominating his own. 

Drawing away from his mouth, there’s a long string of saliva connecting you both together. Using a manicured finger, you break it, and bring it to your mouth. Your tongue darts out, licking your shared spit off seductively, “Do you want me to fuck you, Sevvy? Wanna be inside of me?” 

“Yes! Yes, please!” You run a hand over his clothing clad chest, kissing him on the cheek. 

“Okay, Baby. Do you want me to suck your cock? Or do you wanna eat me out?” His hands grip at the fat of your hips, drool practically dripping from his gaping mouth. 

“Let me eat you, please,” Snape begs, bucking slightly into you. You cup his face with both hands and grin, pinching his cheeks teasingly. 

“Okie dokie, Sevvy. Lay back for me,” He drops back like a corpse, flopping haphazardly on your, surprisingly comfortable, mattress. Unzipping your uniform skirt, you slide it down your legs, tossing it on the other side of your bed. Your cute boyfriend gasps at the sight of your thong, never seeing one before. Chuckling at his shocked reaction, you quickly strip yourself of your blazer and dress shirt, exposing your lace bralette, “Do you like what you see?” 

His head practically snaps off his neck with how fast he nods, “You look so… so beautiful, (Your Name). I feel so lucky to see you this way,” A dark blush coats your (skin colour) cheeks, as you look away a bit shyly. 

“Thank you. Will you let me see you undressed?” He squeaks out a ‘yes,’ prompting you to practically rip off his slacks, dress shirt, and blazer. Only in his drawers, your heart jumps into your throat. His broad shoulder and lightly muscled abdomen look wonderfully full, and the very apparent bulge in his boxers make you lick your lips hungrily, “Are you ready to eat my pussy, Sev?”

“Yes, please sit on my face,” You gawk at his out-of-character words, but do as he asks. Slipping your panties off, you scoot forward, placing your bare cunny on his awaiting maw. He helps you settle on him by wrapping his arms around your (Size) thighs, relishing the feeling of your fat being squished between his forearm and bicep. 

Because he wrapped his arms over your legs, he is able to part your pussy lips, giving him easy access to your throbbing core. He gives an experimental lick to your slit, making your legs tremble. Now knowing that he’s doing something right, he dives in like  a man starved. His teeth lightly nip at your engorged clit, all whilst his tongue dips into your dripping hole. A squeal leaves your lips, signaling the pleasure you’re currently feeling. 

Gripping his head by his hair, you throw your head back in pleasure, “Ye-yes! You’re doing so well for me!” He keens at your praise, increasing the speed of his ministrations. Though you can tell that he’s a virgin, he’s exceeding your expectations by a long shot. Lightly grinding against his face, more moans and whimpers leave your throat, your entire body becoming rigid as your orgasm approaches. With one last well placed suck, you’re cumming into his open mouth. Your juices run down his chin and splash against his cheekbones, causing Snape’s heart to practically beat out of his chest. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Moving off of his face, you pat him on the head affectionately, “Did I do good?” He wipes some of your juices off of his mug, before slurping them down. 

“You were amazing, Sevvy. Have you done this before?” He shakes his head no, making you coo softly, “You’re a natural! Such a good boy.”

“Thank you, Mommy,” It’s like his entire body took a screenshot, with how still he became. He must have thought you’d be disgusted… but you aren’t. Instead, a small moan leaves your lips, before you bring him up into a hug. 

“My Baby Boy likes calling me Mommy? You’re so adorable,” You reach down to his cock, pulling him out with a tender touch. His tip is a dark pink, his precum dripping down his thick length. A large vein runs up the underside of his circumcised prick, and you can’t wait to sit on it, “Is it ok for Mommy to sit on your pretty cock, Sevvy?” You slip him between your cunny lips, grinding down on his length, and mixing your liquids together. 

“Ye-yes, Mommy! Please, please fuck me!” Taking him in one hand, you guide him to your opening, before pushing his tip inside teasingly. His whimper causes a gush of your slick to coat his length, helping you ease down him, until your pelvises touch. You can feel his dark, trimmed pubic hair rub against your cunny, making you squeeze down experimentally, “You-you’re so tight!” 

Smiling at him coyly, you reach behind you, and unclasp your bra, letting your perfect tits jiggle enticingly. You toss it aside, before grasping Severus’ hands, and guiding them to your breasts. He immediately squeezes, loving the feeling of them in his hands. You let out a small whimper, moving your hips in a circular motion, ultimately grinding him against your cervix. 

“Can I move, Pretty Boy?” Groans of pleasure rattle his chest, as you start to suck dark hickies onto his pristine skin. 

“Yes! Yes!” Giggling, you quickly lift your hips almost off of his cock, before slamming down harshly. Both of you groan in pleasure, signaling you to increase your pace. Moving at lightning speed, you start to bounce rapidly. Tits jiggling in the Slytherin boy’s hands, you bring him into a heated kiss. 

You swallow down his desperate whines, your hands pulling at his unkempt locks. Juices dripping down his cock, both of your thighs are quickly covered by your essence. His abdomen rubs against your clit with every bounce, bringing you closer and closer to your release. 

Breaking from the kiss, you suck on the skin of his throat, before speaking, “You’re so big, Sevvy. My pussy can barely handle how thick you are,” His hips meet yours, hitting your cervix harshly. A loud moan escapes you, “Fu-fuck! You’re so good for Mommy! Come on, Darling, meet my movement, and you can cum inside.”

At your words, he starts a breakneck pace, meeting your every movement with a mighty thrust. Your hands reach up to pinch his pretty, pink nipples, making him falter in his movements. 

“Mommy! Mommy-you feel so good! Please let me cum inside!” Increasing almost impossibly in speed, you feel yourself quickly hurtling over the edge. 

“Gu-go ahead! Mommy wants you to cum with her!” With one last sitting movement, the both of you orgasm harshly. Your back arches almost painfully, as you feel him fill you to the brim with thick, hot cum. Your own juices squirt out, coating the both of you in a sheen of white sperm and a glossy cunny juice. 

Severus face plants into your chest, practically drowning in your perfect teats. Whilst catching your breath, you run your hands through his hair, loving how silky the strands are. 

“You did well, Sevvy. You were so good for me,” You fully embrace him, as he buries his head further into your plush chest. 

“Th-thank you, Mommy, I’m glad I was good enough for you,” Bringing his face up to your level (wish is relatively hard, because he’s tall), you smile sweetly at him. 

“You’re always enough for me,” Kissing him on the forehead, you cuddle into him for a while longer. 

While you’re content and happy, Severus is over the moon. 

The girl he’d pined over for years is finally within his grasp! He’d have to write this moment down the moment he gets to his dorm! 

He’s just one step closer to stealing her away the moment they graduate. Hopefully, you’ll still be the homemaker he knows you’re meant to be, even if you’re a bit angry at him at first. 

Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he knows that you’re the only one for him. Hopefully, you think the same, too.

[mayhemscorner]

Choke me again

Hidan x reader

🔞Minors DNI🔞

Warnings: swearing, choking kink, blood, slight knife play 🤭 (I’m sorry in advance)

Summary: he was an asshole… so why did it turn her on every time he was snarky and acted like he couldn’t care less?

“You’re such an ass! If you would pay attention during one damn mission instead of focusing on your pointless ‘sacrifices’ we’d be done by now!” She shouts at him, pacing quickly down the stone halls to her room. Kakuzu had been off on another mission, causing her to take on the task of partnering with the jashinist brat for a while.

“It’s how I make a living Y/N… it’s how I live. Maybe you should try it sometime.” He trails off before laughing, tossing the large three pronged scythe over his shoulder and walking past her, purposefully blocking the entrance to her room. If it was one thing Hidan enjoyed, it was getting on peoples nerves and today, she was his target.

“I’ll find a way to kill you one day, for now get the hell out of my way. The last thing I want to see is you.” She spits at him, shoving him against the door harshly before sending him sideways, crashing to the hard and cold floor.

“You bitch! I’ll kill you!” He growls, scrambling quickly to his feet and rushing her before she could even open the door. Her head smacks against the heavy wood as his hands fly around her neck to squeeze the air from her lungs. To Hidan’s surprise, she only moans at the pressure that suffocates her. Y/N stares in to his glowing purple orbs in shock, slapping his hands away and blushing profusely. She grabs the handle to the door, slipping in and trying to slam it shut to wallow in her own shame, but Hidan was quick to slip his foot in as a barrier. Stalking behind her quickly, he yanks her back by her hair, bringing her ear to his lips,” what was that Y/N?”

“What was what? You’re imagining things.” She tries to brush it off, but knows she fails horribly with the smirk that creeps on to his face.

“I know I’m crazy, but I’m not stupid.” He whispers, lips brushing softly against the lobe of her ear as his free hand snakes back up to her throat. She chokes the moan down, but her quaking legs give her away to him, earning a sultry laugh,” I knew it. You dirty woman.”

Hidan pissed her off, but he was the perfect type of crazy for her deepest pleasures. Sometimes at night, she would even use the Jashinist as motivation. Between the tight pressure at the back of Y/N’s skull and neck, and the enticing position they were in, she collapses.

“So what? Get the hell out of my room and drop it.” She seethes between gasps for air, sticking a trio of senbon towards his arm. He whistles lowly, gripping both hands tighter as he grunts,” if you wanted to play with sharp things why didn’t you say so, Y/N?”

Finally releasing the fistful of hair, Hidan reaches for his scythe slowly, disconnecting the blades to reveal the long spike that hid underneath. The senbon dangle loosely from his arm as he brings the spike to her arm,” scared to bleed? Your heart is pounding like crazy.”

His voice was no longer the usual sarcastic tone, something sultry had taken its place and the hard bulge pressing against her back wasn’t a spare blade… he was turned on by this. She slips her hands behind her, gripping his shoulders and hip tossing him to the unmade bed. Hidans nose is flooded with the scent of rose water and oud smoke as he comes crashing down on to the deep red sheets. Y/N pounces at him, straddling effortlessly around his hips and shoving his chest fully down on the bed, receiving a groan from Hidan. She rips his cloak fully open, admiring the usual view of a shirtless Jashin worshipper, appreciating he was already walking around half naked. She drags a kunai lightly down his chest, swiping quickly just above his pants. Sticky crimson bubbles bead at the fresh cut, light enough to heal within a few days.

“You can cut deeper than that, I’m immortal y’know?” He huffs between quickening breaths, wondering if she was crazy or if she was about to be the best hookup of his life.

“Just shut up already.” She breathes out, grinding her hips against his and reaching for his neck. He moans quietly as her lips crash down to his, tongue trailing his bottom lip enticingly before biting down and sucking. Y/N threads her fingers through his hair, searching for something to anchor her down from going completely feral too soon. Hidan grabs at her breasts, trailing down at an achingly slow speed to grip her hips tightly and flip her over, now hovering above her. His jashinist symbol necklace dangles in her face, just asking to be pulled. So she does, pulling him down to work on his already kiss swollen lips. In the process, he grips the collar of her shirt while his other hand slices it away with a kunai, nicking between her breasts in the process. Y/N only smirks in to the kiss, gripping the back of his head and pulling him closer.

“You’re toying with me here Hidan. Are you actually going to make a move or just keep riling me up?” She hums against his lips in question.

“Say no more sweetheart.” He groans back in anticipation, sliding back and swiftly taking her pants with him. He faces away from Y/N, making a show of sliding the clouded cloak slowly off his shoulders and dropping it to the ground. His arm muscles twitch as he reaches for his pants, turning back to her so she can watch fully. Hidan enjoys the needy look of her face, catching glimpses of his v-line peeking out before covering it quickly. Having enough of his games, she grips at the hem of his pants from the edge of the bed, pulling them down harshly to let him spring free. He huffs out a moan at the feeling of her hand gripping loosely at the base of his cock, pumping slowly while looking up to him through her lashes innocently.

“Damn that feels good.” He huffs out, bracing his arms against her shoulders, enjoying the view whenever he looks down to catch a quick glimpse. When looking away, he’s gasps at the sensation of Y/N’s tongue swirling around his tip, her lips fully encircling his length and bobbing up and down his shaft. He grabs the base, pulling it from her mouth with a satisfying pop, tapping it against her outstretched tongue.

“You look so pretty with your mouth open.” He growls, once again gripping at the back of her head and snaking his tongue in to her mouth while gently pushing her down against the bed. Hidan only breaks the kiss the drag the blade of a kunai against her cheek, watching as the trail of blood follows behind it. His other hand makes it’s way down to her clit, pinching lightly before rubbing gentle circles with his finger tips,” let me hear that moan again.”

He presses hard, slipping two digits in to her, finally receiving that moan he was dying to hear. Y/N bucks against his fingers, riding the crashing waves of pleasure from just his fingers,” just fuck me already.” She growls, barely able to contain the building pressure of the knot below her stomach. He cocks an eyebrow and a smirk, slamming his cock quickly in to her without warning. She can’t help but gasp from the mix of pain and pleasure. The rough motions pull them both to an unbelievable level of ecstasy neither have experienced before, moans and grunts filling the air.

“Take it like the bitch you are.” Hidan huffs out between aggressive thrusts, squeezing harshly against her thighs to ground himself. Y/N only screams in pleasure as his nails dig sharply in to her soft skin, breaking the surface and intoxicating her further.

“Fuck, I’m gonna c-“ she’s cut off by a hand once again reaching for her throat and squeezing at the sides, spots floating to her vision as Hidan continues on,” then cum.”

She couldn’t help the blood curdling scream that tears from her throat, muffled lightly from the pressure of his other hand clasping over her mouth, hoping to conceal their raunchy acts if they haven’t already been discovered. His movements slow as he pants,” You feel too good damnit.”

He moans loudly, releasing inside of her and dropping down against her chest in exhaustion. He readjusts quickly at the feeling of needles digging in to his chest.

“When did you even have the time to stab me?” He gasps between heavy breaths, receiving only a shrug from Y/N,” let me get those for you… I need those back.”

He huffs a laugh and pulls the senbon from his chest before standing and gathering his clothes, he turns to the door but quickly turns back to lean down and place a single kiss on her forehead,” same time tomorrow?”

“Get the hell out of my room!” She laughs, whipping a pillow against his head.

“Alright, alright! I’m going.”

A few moments later, there’s a knock on the door followed by Tobi calling out,” Y/N are you okay? I heard screaming and there’s blood by your door!”

“Just go to bed Tobi!”

“Goodnight Y/N!”

“Goodnight Tobi..”

[bts-bay-bee]

see you in class, professor kim.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1743

Request: married professor!namjoon and single college student!reader, please. smutty as possible.

Warnings: infidelity, professor!namjoon, slight dom!namjoon, college student!reader, let’s pretend miss rona doesnt exist in this, unprotected sex, slight impregnantion kink, creampie, spanking, slight degradation, sex over a desk, finger sucking,

a/n: honestly, you guys always ruin me with these prompts :( enjoy kim namjoon being a distraction in class while I prepare for a new semester! also, please, please, PLEASE do NOT sleep with your professor!!! this is just smut, and it should never be compared to irl. also, this is very random but let me know if youd be interested in a jungkook sm au :)

 “Professor Kim? Y/N from Calc101 is here to see you.” You hear the department secretary say clearly into the telephone, promptly nodding at you, allowing you to walk through the glass doors.

 Nervousness blossomed in the pit of your stomach, each step through the tiled corridor only amplifying it. You could not explain it; you knew that you were about to be severely admonished, yet you could not help but feel giddy; finally, Professor Kim saw you in the way you wanted to be noticed.

 Maybe it was the fact that he had finally noticed how you lingered after class, just to ask questions that he knew you knew the answer to. Maybe it was the fact that you had made the conscious decision to stop wearing panties during your Friday morning class, instead opting to go commando with your too-short skirts.

 “Come in and close the door.” He snapped as soon as he saw you in the doorway of his office. The irritation, and ill-disguised anger laced in his tone made you gulp. Maybe it was the fact that he had enough of your stupid antics… He was a married man, after all.

 Closing the door behind you, you quickly took the seat on the opposite side of the desk, eyes downcast. You dropped your backpack to your feet, belly consumed by nervousness. Bravely, in your opinion, glancing up at him for a brief second, you immediately looked down at the floor again, his gaze much too intense to meet.

 “Did I say you could sit down, Y/N?”

 “N-No, sir.” You mumbled, moving to stand up. He tutted, jerking his head to the side to indicate he wanted you next to his seat. As you were passing the door, he tilted his head, almost pondering something.

 “Lock the door.”

 A smirk threatened to claim your lips; he might be pissed off to no end right now, but he was still about to give you everything you had wanted. Walking over to his side of the desk, your eyes trailed over the pile of test papers he had placed on the mahogany tabletop, seeing your mark sheet on the top.

 “Do you know how I hand back test sheets, Y/N?” He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he placed his glasses on the table.

 “Highest grades first.” You mumbled; your confidence shrunk significantly now that he regarded you with bare eyes.

 “And whose paper is on top?” He asked whilst standing up and moving behind you to grab something from the shelf.

 “Mine.”

 “Hmm,” He hummed, pressing his body against your own, drawing a gasp out of you. “You’ve gotten the highest mark, little one. We both know you’re smart, yeah?”

 Nodding desperately, you started grinding your ass against his clothed cock, breathing harshly. His hands latched onto your waist, halting your movement. You could feel his wedding band pressing into you, but right now, you could not care less.

 “If we both know you’re smart,” He began, breathing out gently, hands pressing into your skin almost too harshly. “Why do you stay back to ask questions that even a seventh grader would know? Do you want my attention that badly?”

 “Yes, sir!” You desperately whined, feeling his head dip to your pulse point. Despite being in such close proximity, he did not place his lips on you, instead he just continued teasing you.

 “But you know I’m not single, right?” He asked, trailing his wedding ring over the exposed skin on your leg, the metal bringing a welcome coolness to your over sensitized skin. “You kept trying to seduce a married man?”

 “I knew.” You mumbled, trying to press your ass into his crotch now that his left hand roamed amongst the expanse of your bare thigh.

 “And you still kept flashing your dripping cunt during 8am classes?” He wondered out aloud, right hand travelling further up your body to palm your chest. “You still kept coming up to me with your perky tits? Nipples begging to be sucked?”

 Whining in response, you felt him press your upper body to his desk, immediately flipping over your skirt to reveal your ass and drooling pussy lips. His hand barely ghosted over your skin, skimming over the globes of you ass, fingertip ever so slightly collecting your arousal.

 “You want me that badly, Y/N?” he asked, his voice barely above a murmur, yet still strong, holding a domineering stance. Without waiting for a response, his hand slapped against your sensitive skin, his large palm leaving reddened skin in its wake. He continued bringing down his palm against you, his wedding band leaving darker patches, the metal biting into your skin in the most sinful way.

 Tiny groans left your drying lips, tongue darting out to wet them every minute or so. You could feel his other hand dig into your side, ensuring you did not move from where he wanted you, while he shifted his target to your slightly swollen pussy lips.

 “You hear how wet you are for me?” He asked, voice gruff and low. Dipping two fingers into your core, you knew that if you had a shred of dignity left, you should have been ashamed by the wet sound that rang in your ears. However, Professor Kim seemed to be getting off on this, adding another finger to amplify the squelching sound.

 “S-Sir, please!” You begged, feeling your core pulse at not being filled enough. “Please fuck me. I need your cock!”

 Ripping his fingers out of your cunt, he shoved them into your mouth, making you gag slightly.

 “Shut the fuck up before someone hears you!” He hissed; his mouth right next to your ear. Sucking on his fingers to desperately shut yourself up, you began grinding against him again, basically fucking yourself against his clothed crotch.

 You whined against his fingers, trying not to gag as he pressed his fingers deeper into your mouth.

 “God damn it, I want to fill your mouth so badly,” He murmured, slipping his fingers out from between your lips, your spit gleaming on his skin. You ignored his words, choosing to rub your naked core against his slacks. “Guess that’s going to have to wait, huh? My little slut wants her little cunt to be stuffed, hmm?”

 Nodding silently, body trembling in anticipation, you felt him moving away from your arched body. His free hand moved to his crotch, unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks just enough to let his angry red cock spring out, the tip dribbling the smallest bit of precum on your skin. He aligned himself at your entrance, groaning into your ear as your core squeezed his length. You bit your lip hard to prevent yourself from moaning and whining out in pleasure; the fluttering stretch of your core sending euphoric shockwaves throughout your entire being.

 After giving you the briefest moment to adjust, he began ploughing into you, his skin slapping against your own. His length rubbed against, what seemed like, every nerve ending in your cunt, your wetness only aiding in both of your pleasures.

 Realising that with the harshness of his thrusts, he was making it harder for you to keep quiet, and by extension not alerting anyone in the department offices, you reached behind you and grabbed his hand, plastering it over your mouth to keep your moans contained.

 “Fuck, what a good girl,” He moaned softly, speeding up his thrusts as he used his hand to pull you up, his ring biting into your skin. Professor Kim brought his right hand down to your clit, the rough pads of his fingers pressing down onto the delicate skin, making your knees weak with pleasure. You used your hands to support yourself on the desk, not trusting your legs to work properly whilst he continued to assault the bundle of nerves with unwavering pleasure.

 Tiny moans and sounds escaped your mouth, forced Professor Kim to shove his fingers into your mouth, making you suck on them to shut you up. Unknowingly, your tongue darted out to lick every inch of his skin but settled on the metal band that covered his skin.

 The knowledge of knowing he made the conscious decision to be intimate with you, whilst being someone else’s, made the pleasure multiply tenfold, taking you right on the brink of your high. He seemed to be on the same wavelength, your core fluttering around his cock enough to make his thighs tremble.

 “Are you close, Y/N?” He panted, thrusting into you harder as your cunt became even more difficult to leave. “Pretty, little whore ready to cum over my cock?”

 Nodding uselessly tears gathering in your eyes, your body convulsed around his cock, your entire form being taken over by your climax. Vaguely, you could hear him swearing, profanities still somehow sounding sexy coming from his lips.

 “Fuck, fuck, Y/N,” He groaned, “Going to cum in you, angel. My good girl takes my cum, right? Going to fill you up, Y/N!”

 “Please,” You whispered, feeling his cock throb as you fucked yourself on him. “Fill me up, sir, please.”

 Groaning, he released his hot, sticky seed into your pussy, filling you up. Thrusting into you gently, he squeezed every last drop of his cum into you. Slowly taking his cock out of you, he felt blood rush back to his length when his cum slowly dribbled out of your core; the white seed a stark contrast to your reddened skin.

 Smirking at his handy work, he flipped your skirt back down, scribbling his number onto your hand.

 “Go back home and send me a picture of your pussy stuffed with my cum, okay?” He instructed, almost playfully squeezing your neck. You tried to not let the smirk show on your face, your core clenched, trying to not let his cum spill out of you and onto your thighs.

 “Yes, sir.” You murmured, reaching down to grab your bag, making him groaned at your exposed, and now puffy, pussy lips. “See you in class, Professor Kim.”

[charlizekkelly]

bikes & blood; chapter III

{poly!lost boys x oc}

word count: 2731 rating: explicit chapter warnings: deja vu and nostalgia for the readers, mild cursing, slight violence...a glimpse of the lost boys bikes & blood masterlist

tag list(feel free to leave a comment if you want to be added to the list <3) : @henhouse-horrors

The plush, grey couch dug into the side of Amara's face as a hushed groan spilled from her mouth. Her neck and shoulder ached from the uncomfortable position she had been sleeping in. That or the fact that Amara's feet throbbed within her boots. Amara's forehead creased as a tired frown crept its way across her face. Amara's decision to leave unpacking for later taunted her as she pushed herself up and off the couch.

Amara rubbed her hand down her face, ever-so-slowly turning her head to give the room a once over, eyebrows furrowed as she squinted in the harsh morning light. With a dismissive shrug of her shoulders and a slight twinge of pain within her feet, she rose from the plush couch; the soreness in her feet ached with every step. The wooden stairs creaked beneath her feet as Amara made her way up the staircase and to the open hallway. A huff slipped past Amara's lips when her father rounded the corner with a cheery smile across his face. His granite-grey eyes looked her up and down quickly as he bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

Amara rolled her eyes as the scowl upon her face deepened. "C'mon, spit it out." She ushered with an exasperated wave of her hand.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, fighting the grin that threatened to grow across his face as his eyes danced with delight. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"Right, because the grin across your face says otherwise."

"What grin?"

Amara narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed by the knowing glint with his own. "That one," she says, pointing to the somewhat goofy grin that lit up his face.

He chuckled softly and continued on his path down the stairs, pausing on the last step as he looked back over his shoulder at her.

"Breakfast should be ready by the time you're finished."

Amara nodded her head before she made her way to the open doorway of her bedroom and the unpacked bags that sat upon the unmade bed. Crossing the room, Amara unzipped the large black duffel bag and sifted through the contents. Her eyes landed upon the familiar clear bag filled with her toiletries. Grabbing the clear bag and a change of clothes, Amara stopped within the doorway as though she had forgotten to grab something.

Shaking her head when nothing came to mind. Amara crossed the short distance between her room and the bathroom with a few quick strides, pushing the white-painted door closed behind her with a gentle shove of her foot. Amara dropped the clear bag atop the countertop of the white sink before she moved towards the shower, pushing the curtain aside so that she could turn on the tap. Amara left the water running as she walked back over to the sink. Unzipping the small toiletries bag and pulling out the few things she needed before placing them on the edge of the bathtub.

Amara looked around the room quickly, double-checking that she had closed both doors to the bathroom before she bent down and untied her shoelaces. A sigh of relief escaped Amara's mouth as she pulled the Doc Martens from her feet and discarded them upon the tiled floor. Her jeans, shirt, socks and underwear followed closely behind as Amara tossed them carelessly to the cold tiles. The warm water from the shower encased her almost instantly as Amara stepped into the bathtub and beneath the showerhead, pulling the curtain across with a single sweep of her arm.

***

Amara walked into the kitchen with a grin across her face. The smell of freshly made pancakes filled her nose as she sat down at the wooden table. The cool seats pressed into the skin of Amara's legs where her black tennis skirt didn't reach. The olive-green, long-sleeved shirt revealed a small triangle of skin from her belly button to the waistband of the skirt. Small buttons adjoin the shirt from the triangle cut at the hem to the neckline; a simple decoration more so than that of any use when it came to the shirt.

Her feet remained bare as Amara plucked a pancake from the top of the stack and dropped it onto her plate. Amara's father didn't spare her outfit a single frame of mind as he lifted his grey eyes from his plate. "So, what'd you think of the boardwalk?"

A smile lifted the edges of her mouth as Amara buttered the pancake before her, pouring maple syrup atop the butter shortly after. Amara's eyes flicked back up to meet her father's gaze as she cut a piece of the pancake and ate it. "Let's just say that if you can't find me one day. I'll be at the boardwalk."

"That good?"

Amara nodded her head, eyes widening slightly as though his question had been ridiculous. "It's just...different." Amara frowned as she tried to find an accurate way to describe the feeling that the boardwalk evoked within her. "It gives me a feeling almost like home. Like I'm supposed to be there."

Her father's eyebrows rose in surprise, granite-grey eyes swirling with interest as he adjusted the red and black checkered sleeves of his flannel. Surprise flickered within Amara's gut as she noted the clean, white shirt and jeans he wore. Much like her own curls, his were brushed and yet still appeared to be tousled.

"The boardwalk feels like home?" He prompted as though he wasn't sure he'd heard Amara correctly the first time.

"I know it sounds weird but I can't shake that feeling, even now. It feels right."

He nodded his head slowly, accepting her explanation as Amara finished the last few pieces of her pancake. "Did you check out any of the shops while you were down there?"

"A video and comic book store."

"Video Max?"

Amara's eyebrows came together with confusion. "No? More like Delilah's Video Store."

"Do the Frog brother's still own the comic store?"

Amara shook her head as the nameless comic book store entered her mind. The tiered tables with the hanging comics and rusted cash register drifted to the forefront of her mind as Amara tried to recall if she'd seen the store's name or not. "I don't know. I went in there for a little while, looked around and then I left."

"And the video store?"

"I'll admit, it has a nice collection of DVD's to choose from. I almost bought one."

"Why didn't you?"

Amara scoffed as she recalled the barking that had startled her enough to shove the DVD back onto the shelf. "Some dog started barking and scared the crap out of me."

Amara's father laughed as he pictured her impromptu departure from the video store. "I thought you said you could handle yourself?"

"I can. I just wasn't expecting it." Amara shrugged her shoulders as she fiddled with her fork. "Besides, after that, I went to the concert."

"Sounds like it'd be worth going down there again tonight. That's if you want to go down there with your old man."

Amara raised an eyebrow as a soft smile spread across her face. "You sure that it's not going to interfere with your bedtime, old man?"

His deep laugh resonated within the otherwise empty house as a happy glint that Amara hadn't seen within his eyes for a long time revealed itself.

"What do you say, Amara? Me and you down at the boardwalk for some good, old fashioned father-daughter bonding?"

"Sounds good to me."

***

The boardwalk was as lively and bustling with life as it had been the night before. The neon lights of the boardwalk reflected off the windows of the storefronts that they passed by as Amara's father's eyes took in everything as if he'd never seen it before. His concrete-grey eyes darted from stall to stall as though he was searching for something that would remind him of the past.

Amara had thrown on a pair of black vans before leaving the house and getting into the car. Her bike remained against the house even if her father had insisted that Amara could ride it down here if she wanted to. Amara had simply dismissed it with a wave of her hand, telling him that if they were going to go down to the boardwalk then they might as well take the car.

He'd let it go the moment Amara made her way across the gravel of the driveway and climbed into the passenger seat of the car without a backward glance. The excitement came off him in small waves as he had climbed into the car and started the engine; an excitement that Amara thought she'd mistaken until she'd looked over to where he sat.

Amara watched with an amused smile across her face as her father twirled in a slow circle and took in the rides, food stalls and shops of the boardwalk for the first time in almost twenty-five years. The nostalgic look that had spread throughout his face in the house magnified tenfold as he soaked in the thrill of Santa Carla's boardwalk. His expression seemed to darken for a few seconds as though a particular memory left a foul stain within his mind and, maybe it did. Amara dismissed the look across his face with a simple shrug of her shoulders.

"Hey, Dad?" Amara began, waiting as his attention fell upon her and away from the boardwalk. "I'm going to go see who's performing tonight, okay?"

"That's fine. We'll meet back here at twelve."

"Don't have too much fun while I'm gone," Amara said with a joking smile before she turned and left him to his own devices.

Amara could hear his laugh as she made her way through the people on the boardwalk. Stopping in her tracks before the comic book store that read 'Frog Brother's Comics'. Amara shook her head with a faint frown of bewilderment across her face, recalling the comics her uncle had shown her and the stories of two boys who had given him them. The sign above the store shone down at Amara as murmurs of the last name 'Frog' flickered within her mind.

Amara stood beneath the glowing green sign for a few more seconds as she tried to figure out why the name within the sign sounded so familiar—the faintest memory of two mousy-brown haired boys flittering across her mind. A huff of frustration left her lips as Amara turned away from the store and continued down the wooden boardwalk. Her tennis skirt brushed against her legs as Amara wove through the people on the boardwalk.

Much like the night before, people of all ages filled the boardwalk beneath the stars. Children dragged their parent's to and from rides with beaming grins across their faces. Teenagers sat or leant against the metal railing of the boardwalk, some passing a cigarette back and forth between themselves. Adults were scarce but still scattered around the boardwalk; throwing disgruntled looks in the direction of the shouting teens or passerby's that they didn't like the look of.

The buttery smell of popcorn drifted across the boardwalk on a gentle breeze. The buttery scent intertwined with the smell of the ocean as though it was meant to be together all along. Amara stuck her hands into the pockets of the light jacket she'd grabbed and pulled out a couple of dollar bills. An easy smile across her face as Amara made her way over to the stall that sold popcorn. The elderly man behind the counter of the stall took the money she gave him with a soft smile, handing her a small tub of popcorn as Amara thanked him and walked away.

The carousel spun in a slow circle as children clutched onto the plastic horses that moved up and down in time with the ride, squeals of happiness eliciting from their mouths as they turned their heads back to look at their smiling parents. The soft white lights illuminated the ornately designed carousel and the swirls of silver that decorated the roof and base.

Shouting and scuffling reached her ears as Amara turned her head away from the carousel and towards the railing just off to the side of the Ferris wheel. Fawn-brown eyes landing upon a group of Surf Nazi's that shoved against the chests of three bikers as she craned her neck to see over the small crowd that hung around the carousel. The fourth biker smiled down at the dark-haired Surf Nazi that gripped the lapels of his black trench coat as though he was merely a fly—leaning closer to the dark haired man as his lips curled into a derisive smirk.

The group that had once scuffled and shoved against the other three bikers watched on with a look of mild horror across their faces as the platinum-blonde in the trench coat spoke to the Surf Nazi that gripped his lapels. Amara watched on as the Surf Nazi's eyes widened in fear and his tattooed hands released the lapels of the platinum-blonde's trench coat.

The three other bikers watched on with amusement dancing across their faces; enjoying the look of fear that spread through all the Surf Nazi's faces as they hurried away from the group of four. The platinum blonde merely dusted the front of his coat and shirt with his gloved hands. A pleased but no less cold smile across his face as he brushed invisible specks of dust from his coat.

Two dirty-blonde haired bikers nudged each other with smiles across their faces. The pair seemed to make fun of the situation as though it'd been nothing more than a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. The taller blonde wore a black mesh-like shirt with a worn leather jacket. His white pants and knee-high leather boots, a strange and yet befitting combination that complimented the blonde well.

The smaller blonde was dressed in a brightly coloured patchwork jacket, the white cropped t-shirt and low-cut jeans he wore paired with a set of worn and slightly faded boots. His sandy-blonde hair curled unlike that of the taller blonde's straight, fluffy hair. Amara watched as the smaller blonde pulled the taller one into a playful headlock. A Cheshire-like grin etched across his face as the taller blonde shoved at his waist as though it'd make the smaller blonde release him.

The final biker merely watched on with a bemused expression as he shook his head at the two blonde's antics. His dark, ebony-brown hair came to rest just below his shoulders. The black leather jacket he wore revealed the toned planes of his chest and stomach as the brunette wore no shirt, his olive skin displayed for all to see. The dark-washed jeans that were ripped along his knees were paired with his boots flawlessly, much like that of the necklace that hung from his neck—the charms upon it indistinguishable from where Amara stood.

Amara studied the group for several more moments as they walked over to four motorcycle's that stood in a somewhat neat line beside the railing of the boardwalk. The platinum blonde pulled a cigarette out from behind his ear and a lighter from the pocket of his coat before he lit the small white stick in one smooth motion. Lifting the cigarette to his lips as he inhaled a lungful of smoke, exhaling the smoke from his mouth as easily as he had inhaled it.

With some effort, Amara tore her eyes from the group of bikers and forced her legs to continue walking in the direction of the stage. Her brows furrowed in annoyance as Amara wove through the throng of people and climbed to the top of the stand beside the stage. Leaning her elbows upon the metal of the railing as Amara peered down at the people that danced and sang along to the music around her.

All the while, completely oblivious to the set of eyes that watched her from beside the Ferris wheel.

-----

<previous chapter next chapter>

[hollyhomburg]

Reasons Wretched and Divine (Pt. 7)

(Hybrid au) (YoonMinJoon x Reader) (Mafia au) 

Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers, hidden in the shadows. Yoongi doesn’t want much, just a few more weeks, but he only has until the end of the summer. 

Parings: Snake hybrid! Yoongi x Dog hybrid! Jimin x Dog hybrid! Namjoon x Pregnant! Reader, Platonic Vmin, allusions to 2seok, 

Genre: Hybrid au, Polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Pregnancy, Mafia au

Tags:  Domestic abuse, references to sexual abuse- and choosing to have sex even though you’ve been through sa, physical abuse, polyamory negotiations, Post-traumatic stress disorder, mute characters, brief gore at the end, pregnant m/c, frottage, marking kink, fingering, oral f. receiving, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, implied death but dont worry I do not write MCD!!!!

A/n: just for posterity's sake! i was drunk when i posted this! enjoy! full gangbang comes in (y/n) next chapter! (oh god im going to hell).

W/c: 10.5k

Song Rec: Like Real People do ~ Hozier

~ Series Masterlist ~

2 Years Earlier

-  If Jeon Jungkook where so esoterically inclined, he would write a book on how he had become the most dangerous man in the underworld. It would be a short book though; because Jungkook had only 2 rules for himself. The first was to always get up after he’d been hit during a fight (even if it took him a second) and the second was to know when to mind his own business. 

- Jungkook was always able to get up after being hit, Even when he’d been a street kid, with not a penny to his name and a whole lot of anger in his mouth. ready to spit vitriol at anyone who would pause and listen. He’d always been able to get up. The pain giving him a kind of sick clarity that he eventually sought out instead of tried to escape. Jungkook could never think as clearly as he did during a fight; or when he was in pain. And that was probably because of his father. 

- But whatever. That man was 6 feet under, (his mother on the other hand- no- that bitch certainly had more than one dept to pay still). He didn’t have a lot of time or energy to put into dealing with that particular trauma (why he honestly felt like sometimes- he liked being hit). Most of his energy went into staying alive. Even now- when living and surviving teetered on the same edge. Jungkook had more pressing matters to tend to than dealing with his own fragile mind. 

- The way he would get up and hop around for a second to soak in the clarity after being hit during a scuffle was one of the reasons why he’d been given his street name: The Playboy Bunny; further set in stone with his tattoo of the same moniker under his left eye. A cheekbone he’d tap and say “you want to hit me? why don’t you try your luck and see how well it turns out for you.” 

- He was doing reconnaissance, Sneaking around the back alley with his hood up and his glasses on- disguising his black eye that was sure to get more than a few looks from passers-by. The ears of the playboy bunny tattoo peeking out over the top of his mask. 

- He keeps his eyes on the crowd waiting for some sort of handoff- to see anything at all. But he’d lost his target through the crowd and has no drive to find them in the dizzying rush of people and umbrellas. Not yet. Not when the hum of addiction lurks in his veins. 

- Jungkook pauses lighting a cigarette, when a commotion to the side hidden around a corner- blurs his concentration. The world snapping back into focus when he sinks his fingernails into his palm. Terse voices. A couple fighting in the alleyway perpendicular to his. 

- Minding his own business was a particular skill of his- it took one kind of person to know when to step in, and another to know which problems weren't worth the headache. And unless it involved the acquisition money or some step therein, it wasn’t a problem worth getting into in Jungkook’s opinion.

- But Jungkook can’t stop his ears from hearing snippets of conversation, a low and angry male voice. The sound of a smack. “You just had to embarrass me like that, didn’t you? First, you come out dressed like a slob and then you act like a fucking whore- I swear if I see you give eyes to another man this week I'll beat you five ways to Sunday”

- The sound of a soft female voice, so quiet- almost indistinguishable from the pouring rain, “I wasn’t-” another smack.

- Jungkook has been hit so many times he knows the sound of it, the ragged gasp the woman lets out, also quite- like even the pain takes up too much space. 

- His body starts to move before his mind thinks it through as he gives up position in favor of investigating the noise. There he sees it, ivy growing up the wall next to the back exit of some restaurant. A woman, small crouching in front of a grotesque man. A baggy coat buttoned tight around her small form. hair swept back in a tight bun. Red lipstick smudged. Though you check your hands and think its blood for a moment before you remember you’re wearing it. 

- Jungkook waits for a moment before he watches you stand on shaky legs. you get up. 

- The rest of the underworld might be old grudges and blood feuds but Jungkook was only here to be a businessman. He didn’t have time for ego and arrogance, let alone time for altruism... 

- Usually. 

- He looks on for a moment, too sluggish without nicotine, but Jungkook’s lingering stare almost seems to spur the man on. He’s wearing a jacket with a military patch, a badge; some sort of congratulation for service done no doubt. and Jungkook feels his distaste for the man deepen. 

- “What you looking at punk?” he slurs. Stalking forward as if to shove Jungkook. He almost wants to tut- that would be an expensive action. Jungkook wonders if the man is maybe high or drunk or both. He’s has had his fair share of experience with junkies and he knows one when he sees one. 

- “Nothing, just a pig beating his girlfriend.” The man settles for shoving Jungkook back. And Jungkook lets him. You don’t look up, don’t do anything but lean to the side, like the brick wall is the only thing keeping you up. Jungkook sees the back of your hand, black and blue, the other bruises on your neck. You only make eye contact with him once. Just slightly. Barely in passing.  

- You look like Jungkook used to look. He remembers in the savage bite of an open-handed slap- the fear he sees in your eyes. He looks and looks. And it aches so viscerally as Jungkook watches you go, your hurt echoes through him. You look beaten down and broken like Jungkook used too; before he’d decided he was done taking punches from people who were supposed to love him- Were supposed to care. 

- (Before he realized life wasn't supposed to hurt) 

- He’s never been one to feel things for other people, the empathy sparing him through most of the suffering he’s seen. It’s not that he’s unfeeling; it’s just that Jungkook’s life has forced him to feel concerned only for himself and no one else. His own survival is his first priority; Not others. 

- He watches you walk away, And you don’t look back at him. Rushing to keep up with your husband's steps. He waits until you disappear into the crowd before he lifts his phone to his ear and makes a call. “Hey, I need you to flag all of the cars that leave the parking lot, they’re just a couple, should be coming to you soon.”

- Jeon Jungkook had become the most powerful man in the underworld because of two reasons; by being able to take punches, and by knowing when to mind his own business. 

- But For this, Jungkook thinks he can make an exception.

- (You won't remember meeting Jeon Jungkook, but Jungkook will always remember you).

~.~

Now

-It comes as no surprise that your little speech fades after a few days and the rest of the hybrids quick to return to treating Yoongi with a mix of disdain and fear. Though mostly- this seems to be caused by Minhyung's group and the other canine hybrids. Namjoon hears them whispering about ‘favoritism’ before they catch on that he’s listening in. And in the days following your impromptu departure from the farm, you find people quiet even further whenever Yoongi's brought up. Staring when Yoongi comes close, afraid to interact with him.

- Even Jimin is greeted mostly with silence from all but a few. The bunny hybrids don’t act so skittish anymore, and the cat hybrids could care less used to sticking to their own group. Taehyung seems to have encouraged the other bear hybrids to make an actual effort and they at least say hello now. It’s better than the derisive comments of the dog hybrids, or the snooty noses stuck high in the air of the dear hybrids and other exotic breeds. 

- They know Jimin is close to Yoongi and Namjoon, and now he feels even more like an outsider that before (somehow it doesn't matter as much as before). The only ones who don’t act overtly different are the new hybrids; Hoseok and the small lion hybrid. but They were never around to learn how to hate Yoongi in the first place.

- it's a little cute- the way that Hoseok will always shout Yoongi's name in greeting (though you're unsure if that's just his personality now that he's started to grow into himself). Hoseok is unbothered by Yoongi's reaction; to shy away from anything that will draw more attention to himself. But Hoseok's smile is so bright and elastic that even he has a hard time ignoring the otter hybrid. You hope there will be a friendship there eventually, that yoongi will open up to more than just your group. 

- The little lion kit is a new addition too, she's not the only young feline hybrid you have at the farm but she is the friendliest. She gets pretty close to the other cats that work in the kitchen almost instantly. Probably on account of her young age (she's barely 7) and the eldest cat hybrid seems to be particularly fond of the little one.

- She's curious and kind to Yoongi too- excitedly running up to him more than once to show him a little rock or some flower she found- and yoongi will marvel and nod, and if Jimin is near- he'll lean close and tell her how pretty it is. 

- She doesn't seem at all deterred by Yoongi's lack of voice. one day she even sees Jimin, her ears perking up excitedly, tail swishing. "Hello Yoonies voice!" it's a little cute- even if it does make yoongi splutter a little. But she's not exactly wrong; Jimin does talk for yoongi more these days. 

- She Always comes bounding up to you and giggling happily to be picked up. Her little legs stretching around your waist, small bottom sat atop your baby bump. Making you get the kind of look that makes Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin sigh and look impossibly fond. They can only imagine what you’re going to be like once your little one is born. Your due date is barely 2 months away.

- In truth- you’re starting to get a little bit big. You say it one morning with Namjoon. After he asks you why you’re looking into the mirror with such a displeased expression. The sound of your terse voices alerts Yoongi and he comes to the door to your bedroom to witness your spat. Making a flippant hand movement at Namjoon to back off. Namjoon could smell your distress on you when you looked in the mirror, his voice tense but breaking. “Baby just tell me, why you think you’re not beautiful like that? let me understand. Cuz to me- you look more irresistible every day.”

- It’s not that you exactly wanted him to agree with you that you were nearing the size of a whale- but this doesn’t help at all either. His unending insistence- doesn’t he see? when he looks in the mirror doesn’t he see what you do? His instance that everything is alright doesn't help when you’re feeling this self-conscious.

- Yoongi helps you, fiddling with Namjoon’s closet for a second before he pulls out an extra-large white shirt of his and helps you into it- tying it loosely over your baby bump so that it flatters your waist a little more. The attention that Yoongi shows you clearly making you flustered. Then he drags you to the mirror, tugging your hair out of its bun, the tension going out of your shoulders.

- Yoongi doesn’t know it, but Namjoon does. Your late husband used to always be so particular about your hair, yanking on it harshly if it was left down. and An easy way to avoid him yanking on it was to leave it up. And sometimes you still pull it up convinced it’s safer even though he’s dead and gone. It’s scary how simple it is- but the second your hair comes down your whole body relaxes.

- All the while Namjoon watches from your bed. And you take in yourself, the baby hairs free-floating against your forehead; Yoongi curls one gently around his finger and then lets it go. You take in the way that the fabric hangs now, making you look a little more proportional, Yoongi gives you a satisfied smile behind your back and you have to sigh and admit it. “Okay- okay- I’ll give you this- I’m not a whale”

- “And even if you where you’d be a pretty whale.” Yoongi has the good sense to hurl a pillow in Namjoon’s direction, but it makes you laugh all the same- the heaviness in your chest abated a little. Your sleeve brushing Yoongi’s as you head downstairs, Namjoon trailing behind.

- The beach trip was a nice distraction from chores but the real work comes crashing down on them the next few days. Your little group feels closer than ever, you rarely part from any of them for long and their intention, their little acts of care never fail to make you feel flustered and taken care of.

- Jimin always holds out a hand for you to take when you’re stepping over uneven ground, Yoongi makes a startled noise whenever you so much as get close to a hose that might trip you, always gesturing for you to pause and take a break whenever you’re working in the garden. Namjoon too, always running back and forth from whatever project he’s working on to check on you and make sure you have water or food.

- At night, Namjoon takes your stretch mark cream from you, rubbing down your baby bump and your hips, the little lines of lighter skin on your waist get little kisses from him.  

- Even if you want just a snack, Namjoon and Yoongi will bring you a full meal- convinced that you need to be eating more than you are. At dinner Yoongi fills up your plate- piling it high with more food then you could fit in your already crowded tummy. And he always eyes you suspiciously when you can’t finish the full plate. Namjoon too will level you with a look- asking if you really are full. 

- Since your pregnancy has progressed, you’ve become a little moodier, and a little hornier whenever way the wind blows. And Namjoon doesn’t help that much at all- and by that you mean, he makes it worse. When he comes out of the field with his shirt off and tucked into his shorts all of his thickness, his muscles that make you ravenous. 

- During lunch one day he drags you away to a forgotten tool shed, though it would be easier just to go up the hill to your bedroom- you feel like teenagers sneaking around like this. 

- Namjoon presses into you as he hits the latch on the door, muffling your giggles with kisses as you hide from the hybrids outside, voices that you can dimly hear, unable to pick out any one particular yet- but you know they're there. 

- You and Namjoon might bicker like an old married couple. But you also act like teenagers gooey and giggly and so so so in love. “Do you think that they can hear you like this? Or smell you, my love?” Namjoon is always quick to tell you how delectable you smell when you’re horny. His more sensitive nose-picking it up the second you feel a slickening between your thighs.

- You’re shaky when you respond. “I don’t know, maybe?” Namjoon always has this passionate intense air about him. He’s slightly possessive- but you’d never fault him for that not when it’s all about protecting and providing for you. Not when he always puts your pleasure first (you feel like you may have turned into a slight pillow princess with him). 

- Namjoon heaves you up onto the edge of a bench and then gets on his knees. Gently lifting your leg over his shoulder. He’s always mindful of how much you can move in your swollen state. He checks to make sure he’s not bending your hips in an uncomfortable way. 

- You put your hands back on the dusty bench to stabilize yourself as you lie back, Namjoon wastes no time in pressing his face close to your cunt and inhaling, His nose prodding at the thin fabric of your underwear. One of his ears caught on the hem of your dress. His fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs- so full and healthy it makes him hard in his pants. 

- He’s slow with the appreciation of your thighs and hips. Hands gripping and moving on to touch and feel like you have all the time in the world. But you hear voices outside the tool shed you’ve commandeered and you could just slip out and go back up to your house- but somehow you like this better. The thought of being discovered stirring an unsure heat in your stomach. 

- You can hear Taehyung's voice, and then- like a shock through your core- you hear Jimin’s. Namjoon can feel your jolt. And you realize- his sensitive ears must have known who it was before your own human ones did. He chuckles- teasing his fingers along the hem of your underwear, almost daring to slip inside.

- You almost whine when you think about what you’re being denied- the harsh pull of his fingers that you’re so addicted too, how thick his fingers and knuckles feel (almost as nice as his cock) when they pull out and push in.

- Yoongi and Namjoon have always had the most lovely hands, it’s strange that when Namjoon touches you- you think about Yoongi’s hands. The way you clench around his fingers at that has Namjoon’s tail wagging. "you're thinking about them aren't you," The way you clench around his fingers at that has Namjoon’s tail wagging. Because yeah; Yoongi and Jimin are apart of Namjoon’s pack too, and bonding and group sex are kind of the same thing to hybrids. You’d found that out the hard way when you’d found a group of cat hybrids all tangled together in the grass the other day.

- Namjoon is always so gentle with you because of your condition, but you find your hips jerking with want. His fingers still when he feels the way your wetness has spilled out the sides. His thumb pressed over your clit teasingly. “smell so good when you're like this So wet my love, are you thinking about them finding you like this?” 

- “Y-yes” you confess, and Namjoon growls, nipping at you through the fabric, the feel of his teeth brushing you, over the sensitive skin. The fabric cushioning the feeling, makes you almost gush, and you know you’ll be shakily legged by the time he lets you get down. And that he won’t let you get away from him until he’s taken care of you in this way, sated you in every sense of the word. 

- But he can also tell how shy you are, the heat under your skin at the thought of being discovered. always unsure how much of your dirty talk is a real want and not just something you like in theory. Namjoon knows the idea of sharing you with the others might seem like the most natural and hottest thing; to love you alongside them. but to you- a human, hybrid sex and hybrid bedroom dynamics aren't as given. 

- So he leans close, sliding your underwear down your legs slowly, letting you feel the heat of his palms on your skin. You're getting worked up a little too quickly, your heaving breaths needy. God damn pregnancy hormones you'd say if you could think beyond the plush feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to your clit. “Gotta clean you up for them, if they smelled you like this- then they’d know wouldn’t they?” 

- You prove Namjoons initial assumption wrong. “What if I-” you whisper- gasping quietly as Namjoon drags the fabric to the side and glides a delicate lick over your folds. “What if I want them to know?” the pleasure thrumming through your body as Namjoon licks up your slit. Namjoon stills, ears perked, eyes flashing in the half-light. The snarl against your cunt loud and echoic.

- The voices outside fall silent and Namjoon doesn't stop his ravenous licking no matter if you have to bite your lip to keep your noises in. One of your hands scrambling to pull at his hair and find something to grip onto and anchor yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. Jimin is the first one to puncture the silence, “What was that?” 

- Then comes Seokjin's voice “all of you- move along- whoever it is they probably don’t want the three of you listening in like a bunch of horn dogs” which is basically a confirmation that they were listening in, and that Yoongi was there too. 

- When you finally exit the toolshed with weak legs, sure you’re going to have to at least got change your underwear. You find a bleary-eyed Seokjin a few dozen feet away, obviously upwind of the toolshed. he levels Namjoon with a tired expression. “You both have dirt on your knees” Namjoon has the good sense to look shy at that. You hastily brush off the spots on his, and he on yours.

- If Jimin and Yoongi smell anything on you later- they don’t say anything and the idea that they might make you feel hot all over whenever they lean in too close. You think you see a blush on Yoongi’s face more than once, and maybe see him adjust his pants out of the corner of your eye, but Jimin seems blissfully unaware.

- You have a check-up at the doctor’s office in the coming days. And although only Namjoon is allowed in the room with you (they have a two-person maximum because the ultrasound room is tiny), Yoongi and Jimin also accompany you. Namjoon comes bounding out after, waving the picture and smiling so so wide, both Yoongi and jimin leaning in close to get a better look- they’re so enamored with the little photo. And when you get home- Namjoon shows anyone that asks how the check-up went, eventually hanging it on one of the two fridges in the kitchen.

- Jimin is the only one who seems to notice the jealous looks- because you went out for ice-cream after and come home with them still partially melting (you’d had another craving- french-fries dunked in ice cream of all things). One of the other hybrids having heard Jimin talk to Tae about the beach trip too. They come to you at the end of the day, 2 bunnies, a cat, a fox and one of the bears- a mish moshed group of hybrids; petitioning you to start the beach trips for everyone.

- You can only fit so many people into the back of your truck so you pick a day and start a raffle for spots. Jimin throws his name into the hat just in case but to his surprise, Yoongi doesn’t. No matter how much Jimin bugs him too; He won’t agree to accompany Jimin to the beach again. Shaking his head with a roll of his eyes back tipped back against the grass, his sunhat crumpled. Offering up a few sweet tomatoes to soothe Jimin’s sour nerves. 

- The peace lasts for a couple of days before they’re right back to treating Yoongi like shit and for some reason, it pisses Jimin off more. No matter how many times he’s heard Namjoon asks Yoongi to please tell him when anything happens. The snake hybrid seems unable to fight back.

- Jimin asks one of the hybrids why she won’t look at Yoongi (after the snake has already gone up the hill to retrieve another dish for dinner) and beyond a startled look, she just says “none of us can smell him” she throws a stack of paper towels down onto the table angrily. The deer hybrid across from them stumbling with their silver wear But she doesn’t need to re-iterate herself. Jimin understands- it’s hard to trust someone who can lie to your face- and in the world of hybrids where emotions can be decreed from a simple sniff, Jimin can’t say he doesn’t see where they’re coming from.

- Doesn’t excuse their behavior, however. After all- Jimin can smell Yoongi’s emotions through his scent and he didn't realize that was something strange until now. To Jimin, Yoongi’s scent is soft and sweet- something gummy and soft like a marshmallow. But that’s probably because he spends so much time with the hybrid. The others only spend so much time around him and are unused to his scent. And the fact that he never talks and never tries to socialize doesn’t help.

- Jimin can’t imagine not wanting to smell more of it- not leaning in whenever the other hybrid passes. Jimin wants to bury his face in Yoongi’s neck and rub his cheek all over it. The same way that Namjoon does to him in the morning if he shows up before he’s changed from his pajamas. And he knows he smells soft like sleep- an alluring smell to the older alpha when he comes down the stairs, ears straight up eyes wide as he takes in all of Jimin's vulnerability.

- and it might have to do with what Taehyung had said- that alphas eat up that sort of thing. 

- Namjoon smells good too, his scent all soft mornings and sleepy walks, the older hybrid large and so pliant in his sleepiness, eyes swollen and face puffy as he hides in Jimin’s shoulder. Sending his pine scent all over so that it sticks to jimin no matter where he is. So that jimin will smell like Namjoon all day. 

- One of the cat hybrids at the sink rolls her eyes. But when you come down the stairs smelling much the same. You touch his arm so softly in passing, like you can’t believe you’re allowed. And Jimin’s senses are a dizzying blur of cream, peaches, pine, and marshmallow. 

- when he goes back to the barns, hazy at being scented by Namjoon so thoroughly. Taehyung levels him with a funny look and a chuckle. "you're more devious than anyone gives you credit for" thought Taehyung means it good-naturedly- it's good to have a friend to ask how to go about flirting with. the other hybrids gathered on the couch in front of the tv; some cartoon playing- pretend like they're not listening in. 

- "How do you know so much when you don't have a pack of your own Tae?" he asks over breakfast, the two of them clutching breakfast burritos on their way to check Tae's bees. Tae doesn't meet Jimin's eyes "you're just lucky- most hybrids dont find a pack so easily Jimin" his words aren’t jealous- only a little patronizing. And Jimin accepts it because he knows he has a lot to learn.

- Taehyung is right- out of all of the hybrids at the farm, there are only a few who have paired up or even made stronger groups or multi-person packs. the bunnies and the cats don't form set generally- though there are a few pairs and more than a few throuples.

- Jimin as caught Yeonjun making out with a tabby more than once- has learned to avoid certain sections of the woods all together because everyone knows that's where the bunny hybrids like to go in the afternoons. The canine hybrids are the only ones who have packs, though there are more than half a dozen loners like jimin and namjoon.

- It's hard for Jimin to cohabitate with them even though there are other larger predators and more than a few prey hybrids living in Jimin's barn. he hadn’t really realized until taehyung pointed it out that each different pack occupied one corner of the punk room. More than once- the room in the barns has felt hostile if only for the packs that have claimed either corner of the bunkroom. it's usual to wake up and find more than one of the pups cuddling with another in one single bed. 

- Having reciprocated love in his pack shouldn't feel like an impossibility to Jimin. But still, when Yoongi steps close- an inch too far away, his fingertips barely brushing- Jimin just- yearns. It’s a soft sort of yearning, the kind that has jimin jumping up whenever Yoongi needs something. Has him settling a think knit blanket over Yoongi’s nobly knees during movie nights, and sticking his own feet underneath the edge of the blanket. Feet Pressed to the clothed line of his calf. Maybe nothing will ever come of it, But Jimin yearns with everything he’s got regardless.

- In the late hours of the night, when Jimin lies awake thinking about the three of you. An instinct welling inside of him that says he should walk up the hill and fall asleep on your couch just to be closer to you three (the pack instinct- Taehyung calls it, looking a little bit sad himself when jimin asks him, the other hybrid moving away before jimin can ask exactly what that means) Jimin wonders if his feelings will ever be reciprocated.

- But love is a strange thing, it’s not just about saying it with kisses or touches- though Jimin wants them too. There is love in the small things, in building something together so that’s what Jimin tries to do. Every day- he takes to gardening with a new vigor. Shouting in joy when you harvest some of the tomatoes- filling up a whole gallon bucket with the amount that have ripened over the last week. Your peppers and cucumbers are beginning to produce more too.

- Jimin and Yoongi run to Namjoon just to give him a handful. The alpha gives each of them a sweet nuzzle in thanks, even if Yoongi chirps and moves back after a moment. A flush high on his cheek. Namjoon looking up at Yoongi from where he’s stopped- cheek on the elder's shoulder. The snake relaxing after a moment. 

- You spend the rest of the day showing Jimin and Yoongi how to prepare the tomatoes to make a sauce, roasting them on low heat. Cutting garlic so so carefully, and whenever Jimin looks across the prep table- Yoongi’s gaze darts away. halfway through- yoongi stoops down, sticking his socked feet into jimin’s lap, and it feels so nice, to have their weight there. 

- You go over to Yoongi at one point, and he tips his head back to look up at you. The back of his head is at the right height to lye up against your baby bump. And Jimin watches, as you slowly, so slowly, brush the hair out of his eyes and away from his forehead. Yoongi’s eyes flutter closed and he tips his face into your hand. Letting out a low happy grumble when you take his action as positive reinforcement, and drag your nails over his scalp. In Jimin’s lap, Yoongi’s toes curl. 

- It feels strange- and Jimin can’t quite put his finger on it- but it almost feels like Yoongi is letting you all touch him more than ever. Suddenly okay with touches- as long as it’s in a more private setting. Jimin can’t say he’s unhappy about it. Maybe one-day yoongi will even let Jimin scent mark him. 

- Jimin smiles at Yoongi’s happy little snake grumbles. And keeps chopping his garlic. Is happy to receive the same kind of scratch from you a few minutes later. Though he might abandon his chopping in favor of rubbing his face all over your stomach when the instinct strikes him. Jimin unintentionally lets out a growl when you start to move away. Slapping a hand over his mouth and apologizing, no matter how you and Yoongi laugh.

- Still, despite the happiness, you have in your kitchen, in your house, whenever you’re around each other. The rest of the world is not so kind.

- An adoption day comes at arguably the worst and best time. There is still a fair amount of friction between your group and the rest of the hybrids. And a few outsiders at the farm only make it worse. Though Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon aren’t the only hybrids who wear red stickers to indicate that they are not available for adoption.

- Hoseok surprisingly- grabs a yellow sticker. And the three of your hybrids watch- as Seokjin hovers around him- a red sticker on his own lapel- wary of all and anyone who interacts with the otter hybrid. His glares putting off all but the most attentive patrons. That's where it starts.

- Jimin is unfortunately caught in the middle when seokjin confronts hoseok. off to help the three of them bring down 3 trays of cut watermelon for the hybrids and the patrons. The dinner tables have been set out on the side of the field piled high with Hors d'oeuvre. You’re there with Namjoon greeting the humans. Games are set out too- for the hybrids and humans to play. 

- it’s no secret that they’ve gotten close, and jimin had assumed they’d talked about it- but apparently not. Seokjin is so angry he’s nearly crying. “why- hoseok- why do you want to leave the farm?” Hoseok’s little otter ears are tight against his scalp. “I just- I didn’t want to assume?”

- “Oh- so you’d rather just- throw away everything that we’re trying- all of this- you don’t you dont want to stay do you-” Jimin has never seen seokjin looking so lost, and he knows enough to guess that Seokjin’s anger is at least in part to due to some trauma (later- Jimin will find out that Seokjin’s mother left him with his last owner- an abusive man- to save herself).  

- Jimin knows enough to get in between them, telling them to calm down and spend a minute away from each other. Jimin ends up with Hoseok- “it’s hard Jimin- how do you, how do you have so much sureness with Y/n? with Namjoon and yoongi too? How do you look at them and trust that you should stay?” Hoseok's eyes remain on Jimin's red tag. 

- Jimin sighs, thinking it through, “do you look at Seokjin and know he cares about you? like- do you know it in your bones?” Hoseok bites his lower lip, “yes- but-” 

- “Then you should stay Hoseok,” Jimin walks Hoseok up to the main house where the stickers sit on the prep table. Changing out his yellow one for a red one. And when they head off back down the hill, Seokjin is waiting on the path with Yoongi, apologizing and dragging Hoseok away to the barns where Seokjin’s own private room is. Hoseok goes willingly, smiling up at the older hybrid. His narrow shoulders cuddled under one of Seokjin's wide ones. 

- jimin has to admit, an otter and an alpaca are a weird combination for a hybrid pack (But no stranger than a pair of puppies and a snake). His thoughts drift towards Taehyung- and Jimin hopes that his friend won't end up alone. it must not be easy- to see all of you pair off like this. 

- in some ways, that adoption day is full of just as much bullshit as they usually are. there are always people who dont understand the effort it takes to take care of a hybrid- they aren't just like any ordinary pet. it's easy to spot the ones that view them as pets- and less like people. You get a few rich people looking to adopt a companion as always. 

- A substantial group of families also look to adopt similarly aged companions for their single children. And you agree to more than one possible test weekend. You’re always so particular about letting the children go, so wary and so careful in the way you let them interact with the families.

- Though they don’t have parents here- there are more than a few good role models and parental figures. More than one child chooses a red tag for themselves. And they always know have a right to it- no matter how young they are. You make it clear to the group of them; If they don’t want to be adopted they don’t have to be. 

- You even get one couple- the woman withdrawn and sad, and a slightly jealous look at your own pregnant stomach says more than any words could. It’s pretty common for women who can’t have children to adopt hybrid children. and though some of it doesn't sit right with you, You aren’t one to judge. 

- Jimin spends most of the adoption day helping you balance the need for food and for games. running back and forth to the house to help. Though there is a little work that needs to be done here and there just to keep the farm running as usual. grey storm clouds roll in halfway through the day, puncturing the blue sky- foretelling scattered showers and storms. and jimin hopes it will cut the adoption day short so that you can return to your routines. 

- Jimin is just helping Yoongi putting away a broken badminton net When it happens- Jimin isn’t certain why it does. Only that he hears the words outside the shed after Yoongi's just excited to grab the broken rackets (Namjoon isn't the only clumsy hybrid you have at the farm). 

- “oh sorry- ew gross,” a shrill female voice says, and then he rounds the corner and sees yoongi picking himself up from the dirt- a rich lady and her peacock hybrid looking down at him like he’s the dirt beneath his shoes. The peacock hybrid has Yoongi’s sun hat in his hands and there is another hybrid- a wolf hybrid from the farm with a green sticker on his shirt, who growls down at yoongi.

- His shoulders shake too the way they do when he’s been touched and he doesn’t want to be. Jimin has seen you brush your fingers over the back of Yoongi’s hand, has even felt the coolness of the snake hybrid through the fabric when the elder grabbed his sleeve. Has touched him even more intimately as of late. But he knows that Yoongi can’t tolerate being touched by people he doesn’t trust- doesn’t want to touch him. basically, anyone, that's, not you, Namjoon, or Jimin himself. 

- “Hey- what the fuck!” Jimin spits, grabbing the sunhat out of the hybrid's hand with a growl, his ears flat against his head. If Jimin had elongated canines like Namjoon they would be barred in anger as he shoves the larger hybrid back. Yoongi shrinks impossibly smaller behind him.

- Jimin is hot and itchy from the heat and the humidity, and he really just wants to shower and cool off. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with entitled people today. And more importantly- no one touches Yoongi on Jimin’s watch.

- The hybrid looks surprised to be talked to in that way, he’s nearly a head taller than Jimin let alone the slightly taller feathers that poke out of the top of his head that give him the appearance of several more inches- but Jimin’s intimidating enough with his set expression to send the hybrid huffing away. Feathers fluffed.

- The peacock's iridescent feathers stand up on end as he grabs the hand of his human owner, her diamond tennis bracelet glittering in the sunlight. “This was getting boring anyway. Sorry” he tosses over his shoulder at the canine hybrid, who looks so disappointed his ears pinned back against his head. They only give him that- barely a look, before they’re heading off down the hill in the direction of the line of cars parked on the grass.

- The wolf hybrid deflates audibly- watching the woman and the other hybrid disappear down the hill. promises of home and family disappearing in a moment, but Jimin has to think- if they’d be discouraged so easily- were they really worth it? The wolf hybrid doesn't seem to think so- Turning his angry tear-filled eyes on Jimin. 

- But Jimin can see the hate in his eyes and knows not to mistake the tears for only sadness. “You both ruin everything” he growls out- before they too run back towards the barns- no doubt to tell the others how Yoongi had sabotaged their adoption. Even though that was far from the truth. in all honestly- yoongi just bumped into the lady- or more probably- the lady bumped into him when he was on his way out of the shed.

- Jimin holds out his sunhat to Yoongi, who takes it from Jimin carefully, Jimin doesn’t linger on the fact that his hand still shakes. Jimin’s hand lingers somewhere close enough where Yoongi could touch it could reach out if he wants too. If he wants to get that kind of comfort from Jimin's touch- then Jimin will willingly give it. 

- a faint flush coats the elder's cheeks. Oh no- he must be overheating then, Jimin feels a rush of concern. He knows what you would do, hover your hand close enough to Yoongi’s forehead, usher him upstairs for a break in the air conditioning, and a glass of icy lemonade.

- All they can hear is the shouts of laughter at the games the others play in the fields, “I understand why you don’t want to stay in the barns, why you don’t want to socialize with some of them, they’re so unkind to you it makes me crazy.” Jimin shakes his head, sour anger filling him like a rotten peach.

- Yoongi, looks more than pacified, looking up at Jimin with an indecipherable look. Most of the time, Jimin can get a good guess on how he’s feeling but not now- not that indecipherable heaviness he finds there. or the strangely heavy marshmallow scent that’s fluffed around them. Jimin lets go of Yoongi’s hat.

- After a moment Yoongi nods, and Jimin takes it as a thank you. They’re done for the day and dinner won’t be for another few hours or so. Jimin is ready to avoid some of the strangers and hopefully take advantage of the empty showers. The sky is grey with incumbent storm clouds when Jimin makes his way to the shower buildings which he finds blissfully empty; except for the bear hybrid Jackson that tosses a greeting at Jimin before exiting.

- Jimin doesn’t even bother to flick the lights on, instead of settling for the calm light that comes through the skylights, grey and hazy. the storm clouds have started to roll in properly. He hums as he disrobes, goes to grab his favorite strawberry body wash, and picks the last shower at the end, disrobing in relative comfort, glad for a moment of privacy.

- The blissfully Coldwater does wonders for his overheating muscles, relaxing his body deliciously from a day spent walking up and down the hill. he digests the chaos of the day- seokjin and hoseok fighting, yoongi getting shoved. you'd looked frazzled the last time he'd seen you, smile strained as you made small talk with most of the humans, Namjoon always close incase you needed someone to lean on.

-  Jimin had been able to tell that your feet were sore just by looking at you. Namjoon will probably make you sit down before long, maybe he already has. You’ll probably cut off the adoption day because of the rain. Taking down names and information before you send them on their way. You rarely let a hybrid leave the farm after one adoption day, needing to have more private meetings and house calls to willingly part with one of them. You just want to make sure you dont release them back into another abusive household. 

- He hums as he washes, lingering in the water and taking a longer shower than he usually would. He hums, testing the way his vocal cords wrap around the acoustics of the empty high ceilinged room. 

Then he hears the scuffling of someone in the bathroom too and cuts off. A little abashed at being caught. The rustling getting closer and its a moment before he realizes that the rustling is coming from his own section of the bath. he smells him the second before he pulls the shower curtain gets pulled back. 

- “Yoongi!” Jimin shouts, furiously grabbing at something to cover his nakedness. Jimin furiously tries to cover his crotch, grabbing one of the large bargain bottles of shampoo and hold it there even as cold water runs over his face. Getting into his wide eyes. “Yoongi what the fuck! You’re naked!”

- Jimin is glad that the rumors about snake hybrids having double the appendages as a normal hybrid are false but he can’t stop his blush or his wandering eyes as he sees the snake hybrid in full. Or the hot lick of arousal that shocks him through his core- especially when he recognizes the heaviness to Yoongi's scent as being arousal. 

- there is a single moment, jimin can smell yoongi- can see the want in his eyes, can feel his own scent fluff out to meet his, yoongi sags under the weight of Jimin's scent as the surprise dissipates. "do you-" Jimin's face must be brighter than a tomato. He reaches out a tentative hand, "do you want to-" 

- Before Jimin can do much more than that Yoongi’s lips are on his, tentative but firm and passionate, the fire leaking into him from Yoongi as jimin stumbles in surprise. The kiss tastes like thank you and Ive wanted to do this for longer than i care to admit and everything yoongi can't say, can't let slip past his lips. jimin drops the shampoo bottle which narrowly misses his foot as Yoongi’s hands come up to encircle his jaw so softly like Yoongi is holding the most important thing in his world. Jimin is so shocked that for a moment- he doesn’t kiss back and Yoongi retracts- not before Jimin chases his lips and the snake hybrid returns to him.

- It’s the first time Yoongi’s ever touched Jimin so bare, and the snake’s hands on the back of his neck feel cold and shivery but good. As Jimin’s back hit’s the wall and their fronts press together for a moment, just brushing. Then colliding with more force as they both realize how good it feels to be so close to someone you trust. It’s dizzying- intoxicating, and Jimin knows his mouth is moving sloppily even if he wants to kiss Yoongi with just as much intent. 

- The snake hybrid bites- actually bites- down on Jimin’s tongue. And a strangled whine comes to live and die in his throat. A snarl in his ears from Yoongi's mouth as the snake hybrid keeps his biting, moves to Jimin's throat- bites hard Enough that Jimin knows he'll leave a bruise. "leave more- yoongi please mark me" jimin feels hot with the thought of it- the thought of all the other hybrids being able to smell yoongi on his scent gland. 

- Jimin doesn’t know where to put his hands, he knows enough to know that Yoongi doesn’t like to be touched and unsure if it extends to right now. but it seems okay if he’s doing the touching. His hands sliding down Jimin's back to his waist. He’s a good kisser, the best that Jimin’s ever kissed (not that there have been many) and he tips his head forward to put as much scalding force as he can into it when yoongi leaves his neck in favor of his mouth, trying to match Yoongi’s intensity even if he can’t match his skill.

- Yoongi takes a step forward, and Jimin’s cock brushes his hipbone, and he can’t stop the way his hips jump at the contact, brushing into Yoongi further. Jimin’s blood boils with arousal. Yoongi is equally as hard compared to Jimin. And Jimin doesn't know if its water or precum that he feels on his skin. Can't look down to check.

- By the time Yoongi leans back and finishes running his fingers through Jimin’s hair and over his shoulders. Jimin’s so wound up he feels like he’s about the pass out. The cool water cascading over his back doing nothing to settle him. Yoongi moves his hips- testing the waters, as he grinds, works jimin’s hips into an unsteady rhythm. and jimin moans. 

- Yoongi pulls back, looking at jimin, their noses brushing, like he can’t bear to have jimin farther away from him than this, want heavy in his eyes, and Jimin tastes the words on Yoongi’s lips as good as if he’d said them. “Yoongi” jimin breathes. Palms pressed carefully to the shower wall so that he won’t reach out and yank Yoongi closer. But he’s Weak against the wake of this of all this feeling.

- “fuck- kiss me again- can we- ” Jimin feels strung out, his body heavy with something like heat- maybe Jimin is actually having a heat and it’s not just in his imagination (he wouldn't really know what it felt like- never having had one before because of his malnutrition). But This kind of kissing is certainly enough to trigger one.

- Yoongi opens his mouth for a second, almost like he’s about to speak- or to try to, Jimin’s never been sure if he can- if it’s muteness or just Yoongi being selective. And then in the next moment, Yoongi’s gone, almost tripping on his way out of the showers with how fast he’s leaving jimin. A whine dies in his throat and jimin starts after him, But then Yoongi turns back. Gesturing with a hand for jimin to stay put. Yoongi looks angry, and it takes a moment for Jimin to realize that the anger wasn’t directed at jimin- only at Himself.

- Jimin stays in the shower, water thundering down around him as the sky overhead thunders too. Jimin listens to the faint sound of Yoongi dressing and then leaving the showers. Jimin lets him go. So sure that he has absolutely no idea what just happen- or even if he didn’t imagine the whole thing.

- jimin’s hand on himself doesn't feel nearly good as Yoongi’s did. 

- Yoongi’s hands shake all the way back up the hill, and he hopes his wet hair won’t be too suspicious especially when a mixed group of hybrids crosses his path. Returning to the barns as most of the adoption day festivities have ended.

 - Yoongi’s careful to keep his eyes averted. And like usual- the conversation comes to a halt when Yoongi passes them by. It no longer bugs him the way it might have once. They have a good reason not to want to associate with him. Yoongi’s body shakes with the weight of the things he’s done and the things he’s going to do.

- you gather with 3 families on your porch as you take down their names and contact information. You send yoongi a concerned look as he quickly heads inside the house. Pausing only for a moment before he decides to go to Namjoon first. Later- later he’ll ask you too. 

- Stupid- he’s been so stupid recently. Touching you- indulging in these short sweet touches because he wants more so badly. Knows he can never have it doesn’t stop the wanting. If his owner ever found out what he’s done- if she ever found out what he’d almost done with jimin- she’d surely have Jimin’s hands for it. 

- And as much as Yoongi wishes it were any other way- Jimin almost touching him does remind him of far worse times. Though he’d been the one to initiate it this time- the memories still linger. 

- Times when foreign hands touched his skin as he’d thrashed and screamed trying to protest against the taunting words of his owner. “I’ve never been interested in snake dick but if you want him for tonight you can have him- just be careful- he bites” and he shakes with those memories. Though its been many years. like most kinds of torture- eventually, his owner had grown bored with using yoongi's body as a bargaining chip. Yoongi wonders if he’s ever going to be able to be touched that way without feeling the revulsion at his own body.

- Jimin had come close, but he'd known- known that yoongi didn't want him to touch him. Had seemed more than willing to be touched himself. the revulsion hadn't hit him until the end. 

- The places he’s been touched without his consent feel black and decaying- or like ink, every time someone touches him- Yoongi’s surprised that ink doesn’t come away on your hands soft and delicate. But it didn’t change the fact that Yoongi wanted it- and wants it still. 

- he wants to see you soft and sated the way you look sometimes in the morning when he can smell Namjoon on you- wants to cause it- maybe, someday in the future if you'll let him. He knows you’d be gentle with him. Wouldn’t put your hands anywhere he didn’t want. Would check in with him- going as slowly or as quickly as he wanted too. Namjoon would be able to be gentle too- Yoongi’s sure of it.

- He wants it, even though he knows that want only put you all in danger. He’s an incredibly selfish person. He hopes he never gets to have that intimacy with you, for your sake.

- yoongi should only let himself dream of something good before he goes- sinks back into that life. But the temptation for more is too strong sometimes, his want filling him up like sticky sweet syrup that pollutes every moment. 

- Namjoon is on the second floor of your house and Yoongi takes the stairs two at a time. Folding laundry in what will one day be the nursery for your child. He’s taken the ultrasound up here now- hung it up so he can look at it. and Yoongi is reminded of A few days ago when he gushed about the development of your child to Yoongi in the kitchen comparing them to the size of a fruit. “a cute little cantaloupe- the cutest little cantaloupe”

- You and Namjoon have made the decision not to find out the gender, but the walls of the nursery are still pained blue, puffy clouds above and little flowers below, dandelions and daisies, a stalwart sunflower that curls over the arch of the door half-finished. Yoongi knows you work on the mural it whenever you can. But Namjoon gets a little paranoid about the fumes- you compromise and keep the windows open along with the door to your balcony to allow as much air circulation as possible.

- The crib, a fluffy white thing is already piled into the corner. And Yoongi remembers the first few weeks here when you and Namjoon had overzealously ordered it. He’d come downstairs after dinner one night and found both of you puzzling over the directions. And he’d shooed Namjoon away as he’d helped you put it together. The three of you ending up giggly and punch drunk tired by the time it was fully put together. And then had to carry it all the way up the stairs. 

-A mobile of little felted flowers that Seokjin made you as a thank you present a hangs above the empty Crib- colorful and cute. And Namjoon has set the laundry on the unused changing table in neat stacks. All of the other furniture is piled into the center of the room so that you can paint the walls. He turns when he hears Yoongi, his tail swishing.

- “Hey Yoon- what you get caught in a rainstorm or something?” the rain splatters against the windows with a soft patter and Yoongi drips onto the floor. He never bothered to dry off after the unintentional shower with jimin. Yoongi makes a shrug that means ‘something like that’ and if the younger hybrid hovers on the way that Yoongi’s lips look a little kiss bitten and swollen he doesn’t say a thing. Namjoon knows better than anyone- what they talk about and what they don’t.

- He hands over the slip of paper; “jimin should move into the main house, you and I could clean out one of the storage rooms and move the stuff into the attic.”

-  Yoongi watches Namjoon’s eyes rove over the words a few times. The hybrid purses his lips, “I’ve talked to Y/n about this- and she agrees- but I don’t know if he wants too? He seems pretty comfortable in the barns, he likes Taehyung and they’re friends. and we kind of want to leave it up to him if we can.”

- Yoongi snatches the paperback from him, annoyance flickering in his chest as he rolls his eye. Didn’t Namjoon see that nothing would change if they didn’t push him a little? Jimin is the type to take that kind of abuse again and again if it means not making a fuss. And Yoongi knows it’s only a matter of time before something happens again. He turns it over onto the other side and using the wall as a place to write.

- “He’s already being treated differently because of me” 'me' being double underlined- so that Namjoon really understands what he’s trying to say. Yoongi just wants to make sure Jimin is safe before he goes. Before he needs to leave and before it gets too dangerous and too near a time when his owner will physically retrieve him. Not that Namjoon knows that Yoongi’s presence has an expiration date. Namjoon searches Yoongi’s face for a source to his desperation and finds none.

- Yoongi has never felt worse for keeping secrets. Maybe in another world- Yoongi would have confessed and asked Namjoon, with all of his connections to the police, for help. Yoongi knows enough to put the whole crime system out of whack and yet. Years of negative reinforcement and beatings have taught him to keep his mouth shut and that isn’t going to change now; not when Yoongi’s life isn’t the only one at risk and he knows you’ll all live if he plays by the rules. He doesn't care about his own safety anymore. 

- The second he sees Yoongi’s distraught expression Namjoon steps closer Taking off his flannel and tugging it around his shoulders. Namjoon might not make moves to scent mark Yoongi but dressing him in his clothes is as good as he gets. Namjoon’s comforting alpha scent fluffs around him.

- Yoongi wonders if jimin feels the pull the same way he does. Dynamics are more mobile in snake hybrids and downright non-existent in humans. but they’re more set in canines. Namjoon puts his hand on Yoongi’s clothed arm and Yoongi shuffles close after a second. His nose centimeters from Namjoon’s neck taking in deep breathes to try and steady himself. He didn’t realize he was shaking.

- “It will be alright Yoongi, I promise. He’s gonna be safe.” Namjoon adds quieter. And below them both- in the first floor of the house, he can hear your voice, echoing louder and laughing at some sort of joke, Namjoon’s tail starts wagging at the suggestion of you. “I want them to feel safe too.”

- Yoongi wants to write “he should take my room- I won’t be staying in it soon anyway.” but Yoongi needs to make sure- before he leaves. Jimin has to be included in your little pack. He doesn’t want to think- about what the three of you will go through when he eventually has to leave. The days are counting down to the end of the summer. 

- He’s fucking selfish, so selfish, to kiss Jimin like that when he knows he won't be able to stay in the hybrids life. He’s selfish every time he begs affection off you, every day he keeps Namjoon Company when he’s cleaning up the other barns. Yoongi writing out words in the dust when Namjoon asks him questions. Eyes only searching when Namjoon turns his back. Looking for any sort of hidden compartment. Completing his task even if it’s the last thing he wants to do. Betraying you like this.

- Jimin spends the rest of the day wondering if the kiss with Yoongi was just a dream. But later at dinner, Yoongi won’t meet his eyes, and jimin knows he didn’t imagine the kiss. Guilt sticks to Yoongi, more distracting than honey stuck between your fingertips.

- Both of them go to sleep still thinking about the kiss. Jimin wondering if it will happen again and Yoongi thinking that he’d like it too. His fingers running over his lower and upper lips, mind awash with the memory of jimin’s mouth on his. And night falls heavy like a weighted blanket on the farm. The sky a big sheet with holes poked through for stars. A heavenly breeze tempting away the summer heat.

- All of the hybrids safe and snoring in their beds. Some even paired- if they’ve got it. Two furry bodies packed close on a single bed. Some even dream of homes they mind one day live in or of the people that one day they’ll get to love. The idea of being kept and treasured lulling them into a drowsy haze of anticipation and security. 

- That night, Namjoon knocks on Yoongi’s door. the hybrid leaning up against the doorframe as he watches the snake get ready for bed. “you know... you could sleep in our room if you want, we have an air conditioner in there too.” yoongi has a notepad ready, he knows that Namjoon likes to open all the windows and even the door to your balcony to let the fresh air in so that it feels like you're sleeping outside. He steels himself to think of someone other than himself before he writes- “I’m okay- thanks though” Yoongi writes out. 

- Namjoon lifts one of Yoongi’s blankets to his neck before he leaves, thoroughly scents marking it before he leaves it with Yoongi. And Yoongi sleeps easy that night with his nose pressed to the blanket. Safe and secure in his room. Nothing bad happens to yoongi that night even though he cuddles close to the blanket, and when he wakes in the morning. his heart beats a steady thumping rhythm- his whole body humming with anticipation. 

- It’s different to feel excited about being in love, excited for a day spent close to the people he cares about. And he knows he won't take a single day for granted. 

- The crickets and cicadas chirping in the field. And in a low tone on the tree outside, a morning dove gentle and unassuming. The sun rising over the hills. Tastes of idyllic and smells of Eden. Like lavender and honey.

- A hand outstretched, scrambling in the dirt before it goes still, fingers just a few inches from safety. Blood mixing in with the sand. The morning is not perfect for everyone.

- But even you would say the morning was peaceful, if not for the dead body dumped at the end of your driveway. 

Kofi

[sp00kworm]

Clove Cigarettes

Pairing: Male Vampire (Clarence Marston) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Violence, Blood Drinking, Lewd Content mention.

Part of The Black Dahlia Series

----

---

The room smelled like overpowering lavender. Next to the burning sticks of incense there was a number of long, black candles, the ends burning with small flames. Black wax dripped over the sides of the vanity, and Cal swept back into the room with a soft rumble. He couldn’t remember how long he had been coming and going.

“Mmm.” the woman on the bed moaned, “Cal.” she stirred from her sleep, exposing her pale neck, littered with fangs marks, two puncture holes were bruised and sore, barely scabbed over from his indulgences.

“I’m here.” he rumbled as her hand flopped into his own, “Shh.” he cooed as he spread his leathery wings and crawled over the silk sheets. It was her home. Her room was dark from where he’d closed the blinds and curtains, leaving them in darkness. Cal leaned over her body and touched her skin. She was growing cold. Soon she would die from blood loss.

 “Was it worth it?” Cal asked her as his skin slid over her legs, his curls dripping over his shoulders to tickle at her skin. He pressed his pointed, upturned nose to her stomach, grazing his fangs over the skin there, “Was it worth leaving him, for this?”

“Mmmm.” she hummed again as she reached for his face. Cal felt his skin ripple with glamour, pale skin and soft human flesh replacing the cold grey, stony cold feel of his chest, “I like you more.” she purred into the cold skin, “And your bite.”

“You’re addicted to the saliva.” he commented as he pushed her hands to her sides, “It’ll help.” Cal reached for her face and stroked her jawbone, “You haven’t got that long left.” His fangs touched her neck, and she purred as he reopened the wounds. His stomach clenched happily as the taste of iron flooded his mouth. Crimson dripped from the corner of his mouth as he grew excited, leaning into her neck, his teeth tearing the wounds deeper before the rest of his sharp teeth followed them, piercing the flesh so he could grapple her by the throat like a wolf.

 “Cal…” she uttered as her manicured nails fell from his hair, stroking the fur over his back as he drew away, blood covering his lips and chin, “C…” the kick of the consonant fell from her lips. The sound gurgled with the blood in her trachea. Blood bubbled on her lips as his wing claws reached to curl around the bedposts, holding his chest up over her dying body. Air crackled in her throat. Cal reached to touch her face as her eyes went glossy, the pupils expanding into their relaxed state as she died. Carefully, the vampire reached towards her face, his claws drawing bloodied lines over her skin.

“Loving me was your first mistake.” Cal whispered against her lips before he kissed them and closed her jaw. He closed her eyelids before kissing each of them and leaning back, shuddering as he looked at her throat. Torn pieces of her neck hung over the sides of the wound and down over her clavicle. With a purr, Cal shoved his bloodied fingers into his mouth, licking himself clean with his black, pointed tongue. There was silence. The candles swayed as he batted his wings once and hissed, fangs slipping past his lips as he threw his wings out in upset.

“Again… Again...” he whimpered to himself as he licked the blood from his mouth, “He told me! He warned me, and I’ve done it again!”

With a wail, he smashed his claws into the altar, throwing the candles onto the carpet.

 Roaring, the vampire reared back, pressing himself flat against the wall as he crawled to the ceiling and watched from the corner. The body didn’t move. She laid, her arms pressed up against her cushions and her face turned to the heavens. Maybe she would make it there? Cal whispered to himself as he crushed himself into the corner, his black wing claws hooked into the plaster, and softly uttered his prayers for the deceased. He reached for the cross looped around his neck, clutching the rosary close, for once in his life, as the carpet began to smoke with flames. A fire started by the legs of the vanity, burning orange light quickly moving to consume the cheap fabric flooring. It rippled across the plastic underlayers before it caught the side of the soft cotton bedding and burned its way upwards, consuming the carpet underneath the bed before it caught onto the slats of the bed frame. The fire startled Cal, and he clutched at the walls before panicking and rushing for the window. His claws scrapped at the glass, leaving scratches in the pane as he fumbled with the latches. With a hiss, he smashed his hands against the wood and broke the latches free, the wood splintering against his fingers. Great curls of hair fell over his face before he screamed, the flames catching hold of his hair and burning up the right side of his back, licking the soft, leathery membrane of his wing. Pain burned in his back as he tore open the window and burst out into the sunlight. With another hiss, he covered his eyes, his wings stuttering and flapping wildly as the light burned at his monstrous retinas.

 The sunlight wasn’t a death sentence anymore, but Cal regretted his decision to fly out as the sunlight seared at his open wounds, burning the flesh deeper. The star like pattern up his back ran red with boiling blood, dripping onto the tarmac below as he clumsily flapped through the air, heading towards the shaded back streets of the taller city buildings. With another howl of pain, he flung himself down into a shaded alley, clutching at his burnt wing before he dared to shift back into his glamour, naked and in agony, his eyes burning red with fury as he pressed his back against the cold metal of a dumpster. He screamed again at the pain, his blood boiling and fizzing against the metal. Cal looked up at the brick, trying to ground himself before he peeled his healing skin away from the metal again. He hissed violently and his mouth opened wide as spit and blood dripped from his jaw. He gagged and spat curses, his earlier reverence to the Lord forgotten, damning himself again as he gouged at the wall. He could barely hold himself up. A man wandered over to the dumpster with his bag of rubbish.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he caught sight of the shivering vampire, hunched over by the dumpster, “Oh fuck….” he saw the blood and flinched at the sight of the mouth full of fangs, “Fuck no. No way. You need the…” The elf said no more as he was grappled, fangs slicing his neck open. Cal drank from the wound hurriedly, burning with anger, guilt and pain as he gulped greedily, his back stinging but healing over from the burns. He dropped the elf a moment later and marvelled at the male as his eyes rolled up and looked him dead in the eyes, fingers clawing at the dirt as he attempted to gasp for help.

 He left the elf in the alley and dragged himself along the alleyways until he found the sewers, slipping into the stinking manhole to hide from the sunlight and to try and figure out how he was going to avoid being institutionalized for the slip up. They found him in the evening, clutching his rosary, praying against his bed, the right side of his back covered in burns scars, and his face and neck still covered in blood.

 --

 “It’s been a long time since any of us have seen the owner, he tends to keep to himself.” Flix commented as the male fae handed you a black apron before he shook his head and fished you out a deep, crimson red colour, “It matches you better.” he explained, “But the only rule is that his rooms upstairs are off limits. No one sees him come and go, but Cal likes his privacy, and he’s…”

You took the apron and slipped it over your head, “He’s?” You asked, prompting the fae to continue, “He’s not a serial killer or something, is he?” You joked.

Flix turned his lilac eyes on you as he tied his long, purple tinted silver hair back in a high ponytail, “He’s a recovering vampire. He was institutionalized for three years. They had to get him off the blood.” Flix explained awkwardly, “Ever since he’s been reserved. He likes his space, you understand?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly, “Yeah. I understand.” awkwardly you shrugged your shoulders, “Sorry about…”

“It’s a joke, just don’t let him hear you say stuff like that okay, baby?” Flix purred, “We all know what he is but, just to be safe.” The fae tilted your face up by the chin, two of his fingers pressed under your chin.

 Flix leaned close before he pressed the fingers of his other hand to your forehead, the ends glowing with a soft blue light before the light spread over your eyes for a moment, blinding you to the dim bar. You reared back but Flix laughed softly and held you upright as the bright dancing light faded, leaving you dazed and bleary eyed.

“That’s a little spell to stop the unruly sort from coercing you into giving them free drinks or offering them your neck. It’ll stop fae from being able to trick you too.” Flix’s wings fluttered before he grinned with dangerous teeth, “You don’t have to thank me, sweet thing. Your gaze is enough.”

After a moment blinking you scoffed, “You wish you could have a piece of this, Flix.” You flicked his hands away from you and laughed at him.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t fall for mine.” he sang as he pulled on his own apron, “Lets see what you’ve got newbie. Weldrick gave me the ‘all clear�� to grill you on the hardest things I know.”

“You’re not even trying and you still sound desperate for a lay.” You joked as Flix placed the shaker in front of you, “Pick your poison.”

Flix grinned, his black eyes glinting like an insect, shining with rainbows in the strobes before he pointed up at the menus, “A Bloody Mary.”

“Coming right up.” You grinned as you turned to grab the ingredients from the shelves.

 It was a difficult cocktail to make without a mix, but you worked in bars from being barely eighteen. You had enough years in you to know how to make it, but whether it was to Flix’s taste was another question. You poured the cocktail into the glass and took a step back. Flix’s gossamer wings dragging over your arms as he took the drink, smelling it before he took a sip.

“Pretty good, for a human.” he joked as the strength of the drink hit him, “Though maybe for the human customers you might want to tone down the booze.”

“If they can’t handle it, why are they drinking?” You laughed as he knocked back the rest of the drink.

“Vampires might appreciate a real bloody to go along with it.” Flix flicked his hair away with a scoff, “There’s blood bags in the fridge, and fresh frozen in the back. Don’t let them fool you into thinking they need warm living stuff, they’re all just con artists.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” You took the glass and placed it in the boxes for cleaning, “So, do you want to test me on anything else, or am I good to go?”

Flix grinned as he leaned over the bar, “You’re good to go, sweet thing.” He batted his long, circular tipped eyelashes, and left you to the end of the bar, “Get those liquors in order, we open in twenty!”

 The bar opened to a few guys, larger orcs who were older than the usual bruisers who came through. They were shaved bald in a traditional manner, their heads covered with tattoos and their ears pierced with numerous rings. They snorted in orcish to one another before thanking you for the drinks and leaving to sit in the corner, sighing in relief after their days work. The rest of the customers trickled in later on. The Black Dahlia attracted numerous clienteles and you were witness to all of them. The group of orcs that came in later were younger, headstrong, and brash as they swaggered between the bar and their put together tables. A faun at the end of the bar scoffed and talked to her friend as two of them ordered drinks. Flix served the men with a flirtatious wink, fluttering his eyelashes and you made sure to bump his backside purposely hard as you went past, smacking his hips into the bar roughly as the two orcs turned to the faun and human sat on the end.

“Do you ever give it up, Flix?” You asked with a snort as you placed some glasses into the tubs for washing.

“Not while I’m awake, no.” Flix grinned as he walked towards the next customer. You shook your head and carried on with your shift as the human and taller, older orc headed to the balcony to watch the show.

 You had a break at about ten o’clock. It was much busier now that the band were on stage, in full swing of their show. You’d served humans, fae, werewolves and centaurs alike this evening, and you’d not had to deal with anyone who was unruly. You waved to Flix as you left him flirting with a group of Orcs, heading to the balcony to catch a bit of the show as you ate your food from the kitchen and drank the soft drink that you’d stolen from Flix’s personal favourites. The band chugged along before the female brought out a whip and bared her sharp elven teeth, her ice white eyes shining as she ran it along the audience. You laughed as you stabbed another fry, lathering it in sauce before you shoved it into your mouth, and washed it all down with a few glugs of the fizzy juice. Happily, you sat on the stool, watching the clock every now and then as you finished off your food.

 As you took another drink, a cold shadow passed over you. You shuddered in your seat and peered behind you to see a slouching man take three long strides towards a table where the handsome orc and his entertainment for the night were sat. The man was a giant, clad in a soft turtleneck and black jeans covered in chains and small crosses. Around his neck sat a long, drooping rosary, and it bounced against his chest as he stopped, tossing black curls of hair from his eyes to peer at the couple over his sunglasses. His eyes burned red in the light but as fast as the colour appeared, it disappeared back into the steel blue. He shook the human’s hand before looking in his pockets for his cigarettes. The orc returned and the situation turned hostile and cold. The male reached for his gum packet instead and shakily unfolded the wrapper and slinked into the shadows, his hair rippling into the walls as he disappeared again from view. You sat with your mouth open before a hand appeared on your table, black nails thumping against the wood before a cold breath blew against you ear.

“Get back to work, newbie.” the gravelly voice growled, and you were quick to oblige, hopping up from your seat and escaping with your plates down the stairs to the bar front.

 Your shifts at the Black Dahlia were regular. You even picked up extra hours when the female werewolf, Jude, went off on maternity for her second litter. You hoped to god she made enough money to support that many children, but you didn’t dare to question it as Flix talked about the process of werewolf childbirth.

“I don’t need to know, Flix!” You groaned at him, “One child is gross enough! Never mind a litter!” You smacked at him with your towel, “So hush!”

Flix cackled, “I didn’t think children would freak you out so much!” he prodded your arm, “You enjoy all those blood spurting bands on stage! I was sure you’d love seeing blood and mucus come out….”

You thumped the fae in the arm, “Seriously! Enough!” You scowled as you turned back to drying the pint glasses, “Sometimes you are way too much…” You muttered.

“Hey, come on. I’m sorry sweat pea!” Flix cooed, “I won’t mention it again, promise.” he crossed his finger over his heart.

“Fine.” You reached to pinch his cheek, “But next time I’m going to tell Weldrick!” You threatened.

“Ugh. You’re just a little minotaur’s pet.” he hissed at you playfully before turning back to his own job. Flix exited into the kitchen to load some final plates and glasses for washing.

 “You’re fitting in well.” a low voice grumbled from the end of the bar. You jumped out of your skin at the noise, too focused on washing the pots to be paying attention to who was hanging around. You looked up to see the same, dark clad man from the other week. This time his black hair was tied back, revealing the hanging silver cross earrings in his ears. His steel eyes and low brows accentuated a thin face with high cheekbones, making him seem thinner than he was really. Tonight, he was dressed in a set of tight trousers and a tight, long sleeved red shirt, the sleeves long with soft ruffled ends, matched with a tied neck scarf under the collar. His sunglasses were pushed into his hair.

“Cal?” You asked lamely as you placed down the glass you were cleaning.

“Yes. I am he.” he droned as he picked at a beer towel with black painted nails, “Are you enjoying your time here?” Cal asked with a cool stare, his mouth twitching with a sneer, revealing the sharp set of fangs that filled his mouth. It was unlike any vampire you had met before.

“Uh…” Your heart did a flipflop before you could reply, “Yeah. I am. It’s nice to have such a stable job for once.” You confessed quickly, praying he wouldn’t bring up how nervous you were.

 “I can hear you on the verge of a panic attack. Calm down. I know they’ve all told you how I was addicted to fresh blood. Bleeding blood, or whatever they call it now. I’m off it. I have been for years.” He snarled, “So stop panicking.”

You nodded, “Sorry.”

“Don’t. I don’t need it. I know what people think.” Cal pointed to the freezer under the counter, “Get me an O negative, please.” It seemed as though he had to squeeze the manners onto the end.

You walked closer and unlocked the freezer before fishing him a pack out and throwing it into the microwave to thaw after clicking the anticoagulant vacuole to avoid it from clotting. As you turned around, Cal grabbed your wrist, dragging you over the bar so he could sniff at you. The vampire’s eyes burned red for a moment.

“Or would you rather give me your blood?” he purred, the gravelly tone suddenly much more appealing, “It won’t hurt.” he comforted you as he opened his mouth full of monstrous teeth.

 It was then you looked into his eyes, seeing the cold steel, and blinked.

“Flix put an anti-glamour spell on me. That doesn’t work.” You frowned before dragging your wrist out of his freezing cold grip, “Do you do that to all new starters?”

Cal sat back on the stool as he pushed his glasses back down onto his nose, “Not all. Just the ones I know will be snacks if Flix fucked up the spell.”

“What do you mean ‘know will be a snacks’?” You quoted back at him before throwing his warm blood bag onto the bar.

Cal snatched the bag and looked at the contents curiously before he stole a glass from your clean side on the bar and piped the contents into it. The red blood made you feel a little queasy, and you looked away as he greedily drank it, still ignoring your question.

“I meant…” he swallowed the last of the blood, “Vampires like to prey on new things like you. I might be scary, but they’ll do what they want if no one is watching. Keep your wits about you, or you’ll end up as a blood bag, or better yet, a brood barer for a drider.” he tossed the glass and packet on the bar and sneered as he turned. “Happy Halloween, newbie. Stay away from witches tonight.” His hair flowed into a shadowy smoke again before he disappeared up the shadowed walls and disappeared.

 A slim hand fell on your shoulder, shocking you out of your annoyance and making you jump with a small gasp.

“Hey, calm down sweet thing, it’s just me.” Flix’s black eyes appeared next to you before he turned you around to look you in the eyes, “By the look on your face, I’m going to assume you met Cal?” He tilted his head.

“Yep.” You took a steadying breath, “He’s something…” You couldn’t really articulate what you thought in a kind way.

“He’s a bastard. I know.” Flix laughed as he flung his towel onto his shoulder, looking towards the shadows which Cal had disappeared into, “I’ll say sorry on his behalf. He’s…socially awkward.” Flix’s gaze eventually looked away from the shadows, and when you looked back, Flix was quick to wrap his hand around your shoulder and turn you towards the doorway, dragging you down to the other end of the bar.

“Forget about him anyway. Let’s get ready for the costume aspect!” Flix declared as he pushed you into the back room, “I’ve got just the thing for you!”

You shook off the odd feeling and smiled, “It better not be underwear!”

 The feeling of being watched followed you all night as you wandered up and down the bar serving various costumed customers. You were in a cape and a set of polymer fitted fangs. Most of the vampires of the evening had taken to laughing at your fangs and white face. A pretty, tall vampire lady had scoffed before asking you if you’d prefer some real ones. Thankfully, Flix’s glamour worked its magic, preventing you from falling under any of their hypnotic spells. You thanked them, laughed, and served them their heated blood drinks. Flix enjoyed the evening more than you, fluttering around with his great wings dipping and curving as he delivered drinks by air. Halloween was the night monsters could let their hair down.

 “Hey, Flix.” You looked up above the bar, “I’m just going for a quick toilet break!” You shouted up to him. The fae gave you an ‘okay’ sign from the air and fluttered with a graceful dip down to deposit a set of drinks with some gruff looking werewolves. You hung your apron up behind the bar before you headed to the toilets a little way from the bar. You hopped down the steps and opened the door before freezing in your tracks. A monster made of tentacles and thick slime oozed in a cubicle, and you backed away as a woman’s moans came from the where the toilet wall was. A tentacle appeared from around the door, the eyeball on the end rotated and blinked before the woman paused.

“Why have you stopped?” She whined, and you took that as the exact time to bolt with a rush of apologies spewing from your mouth. You slammed the door to the toilets closed and rubbed at your face, embarrassed and feeling hot as you escaped back to the bar.

 A cold shadow lingered over your shoulder before a hand touched you by the bottom of the stairs, icy fingers pressing into the cheap fabric cape.

“A vampire?” Cal’s deep, gravelly voice asked before the rest of his cold body appeared at your right side, “Well, maybe a poor imitation of one.” He chuckled once, twice, and then stepped around your front.

“Cal…” You uttered before composing yourself, “It was Flix’s idea, not mine.”

“Ah. Yes, he does like to do things to get under my skin.” Cal commented before he noticed your squirming, “Is Rendax causing problems in the toilets again?” He asked, “That damn tentacle pest doesn’t know when he’s not welcome.”

“Yeah…well he’s doing a lot more than just causing a problem, I think.” You made a hole with your right thumb and index finger before pushing your left index finger through it, “If you catch my drift.”

“I’ll have Weldrick deal with him.” Cal snapped open his phone with a soft hiss and a scowl as he listened to the phone ring, “Weldrick? Yes… We have an unwanted visitor in the toilets, again.” He snapped the phone closed and you felt yourself smile as you looked at the old flip-phone.

 “You know those have been out of fashion for about fifteen years, right?” You tried not to laugh as the vampire held the phone by its small antenna. A soft giggled escaped you.

Cal stepped from one foot to the other, awkwardly looking at his aloft phone, “It is what I was bought before we toured in two thousand and three.” He muttered to himself, “What do you humans use now?” He asked.

You looked him in the eyes, seeing the sad steel colour of them for a moment before you reached for your pocket and produced a smart phone, “Touch screen, colour, internet access.” You clicked it on, and the vampire jumped slightly at the colours in front of him, “Wait…”

Cal recoiled as you push the phone to him, “What?” He grumbled.

“I don’t think it would work, you know, since you’re dead and all that.” You confessed as you typed on the device.

“Probably not.” He confirmed before taking a step backwards, brushing his ponytail away before he cringed and stepped back towards the shadows, “You…” He looked from you to the bar again, “You are welcome to use the toilet near my office while Weldrick deals with our unwanted guest.”

 As you nodded, the white minotaur came down the stairs. Your mouth opened at the size of the white bison looking minotaur. Weldrick’s fur was printed with black patterning, like tattoos, and he rolled his sleeves as he came to the bottom of the stairs, preparing to deal with the tentacle monster. The sheer amount of metal rings in his ears made him clink as he walked, and you took note of the nose hoop and eyebrow rings as he stopped short of you and Cal.

“Can Rendax not keep it in his fuckin’ pants for one sodding night?!” Weldrick shouted, and the crowd behind you parted as the minotaur gave Cal’s shoulder a clap. He thumped on the toilet door and opened it with a clatter, “You better be fuckin’ decent, Rendax, or I’m dragging both you and your girl toy out of here fuckin’ naked!” He hollered as he ducked his horned head to grab for the monster inside.

Cal turned on his heels, “Come on.” He led the way up the stairs, melting between the bodies as though he wasn’t even really there. No one paid him any attention and you followed quickly, still desperate for the toilet.

 The stairs led to the second-floor balcony before there was another set of doors with a code on the handle. Cal punched in the numbers and opened it to the second set of stairs, letting you go through first before he followed you, closing the door behind him. The locking system re-engaged with a soft click and you turned back to see Cal eye the handle, his hand lingering around the metal before he gave an awkward half smile.

“Carry on up the stairs. It’s the first right door.” He shooed you up the stairs, and you nodded before heading up in front of him. A moment later, he followed in your footsteps, quiet as he made sure to stay a few steps behind you. You quickly found the door and opened it to see a large bathroom. It was perhaps Cal’s personal one, but it was bare, having just a few bottles in the shower basket. You locked the door and listened as Cal stopped outside. The shadow of his shoes remained for a moment before he walked on down the hall and entered a different room. The door closed with a soft click and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

 A cold shiver ran down your spine as you pushed off the door and headed towards the toilet. It was then you wondered if vampires even had to relieve themselves. They were technically dead, after all. You pondered the thought for a moment as you finished your business and washed your hands. You looked at the slate tiles for a moment, admiring the décor, before unlocking the door and sticking your head out into the hall. There was no sign of Cal. You stepped out and turned quickly to rush back down to the bar.

A claw grazed at your head, tugging a piece of hair, running through it quickly. You squeaked and looked up to see black hair hanging from Cal’s head. He was hung just over the door, hunched, with his claws in the ceiling and his head near your own.

“I’d like for you to work next Friday. Is that agreeable?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

You got over your fright with a deep breath, “Yes. That’s fine, but you could have just, uh, asked.”

Cal scowled.

“Without being hung from the ceiling?” You added on before moving out of his way, towards the stairs, “Thank you for letting me use your toilet.” You smiled and disappeared back down to the bar as quick as your feet would carry you.

 Cal watched you leave before he slid from the ceiling and snatched your novelty cape from where it was stuck in the door.  

 “Are you okay?” Flix asked as he fluttered down from the ceiling, his wings brushing at your cheeks before he landed softly.

“Huh?” You asked before realising you probably looked rushed off your feet, “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” You lied with a smile. You rushed back behind the bar before reaching for your shoulders and realising your cape had come free during your escape. You didn’t have the courage to go and fetch it, so you turned back to the people waiting and got started making drinks and taking cash.

 Halloween was forever burned into your mind and your retinas after seeing what you did that night. More importantly, however, you remembered the dark look of hunger in Cal’s eyes as he hung from the ceiling, seemingly with nothing but the soles of his shoes and one hand’s fingertips. He liked to lurk around the left wall of the club, his back pressed to it as he scanned the crowds of people. You had no idea what he was looking for, or if he knew you could see him, but he gave you no inclination that he could see you staring. There was always the sad, lonely coldness to his eyes. It burned to hunger whenever an exposed neck went past, and you saw him fidget and reach for a piece of gum often, like he was kicking a habit other than the cigarettes. You watched him again tonight, his tall frame pushed back into the shadow of the balcony, slouched against the wall in a pair of dark sunglasses, his curls of dark hair dripping over his shoulders where they melted back into the shadows around him. He was shirtless, covered only in a leather jacket and black jeans, the studded belt wrapped around his hips. As he turned, you caught a glimpse of the tattoos on his chest with a centre cross between his pecs. It was flanked by three pairs of shaded wings. You looked at the ink intensely before you looked back at your cocktail mixer and wondered what it meant.

 As you finished serving the masses, you felt out a breath and sat back on the stool behind the bar, taking a moment to rest your feet before people started to queue with orders again. As you relaxed against the wooden shelving you peered back to the left wall, where you had last seen Cal lurking. He was gone, replaced by a couple cuddled together watching the band who were playing. A soft melody rang out from a synth, not unlike a church organ. It petered into some soft vocals and you dared to close your eyes and let out a breath as your body relaxed a little.

“Enjoying a break?” Cal’s gravelly voice carried over the top of the lilt of a guitar.

“Ah!” You jumped a little, smacking your head against the wooden shelf. You clutched at the spot and rubbed furiously to try and push the pain aside, “Sorry.” You winced at you pulled your hand away, seeing a dot of blood from a little scrape on your scalp.

Steel eyes locked onto your fingers, but Cal didn’t move. The vampire swallowed and tore his gaze away from the blood.

 “Here.” Cal reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a small handkerchief, “To stop the blood.”

“Thank you.” You took the piece of soft cloth from him and pushed it to the little cut. You avoided his eyes for a moment before slowly looking up and realising that his neck was bare of the rosary, “You don’t have your rosary on.” You commented, off-handed.

Cal looked down at his chest before nodding and pushing his glasses down his nose, “I don’t. You’re more observant than I thought…But that doesn’t answer my original question, does it?” he reached for his back pocket and slid free a packet of cigarettes.

“Smoking will kill you, you know?” You joked before taking the handkerchief away from the scratch on your scalp. “I was. It’s been madness serving tonight. Flix is off so its just me manning the bar.”

“Oi!” Weldrick ducked his head out of the kitchen door, “I’ve been helping you all night, cheeky little fucker.” the minotaur snorted at you before seeing Cal. His blue eyes widened in shock, “I didn’t expect to see you out and about, Cal.”

The vampire snorted as he turned the packet of empty cigarettes with a sneer, “Well, it is also my bar.” He flicked his painted nails at the minotaur.

“Oh, is it?!” Weldrick grumbled, “Well, maybe you can come help serve fuckin’ drinks in it then!”

 You looked back at Weldrick and then to Cal. The vampire’s teeth poked out from beneath his top lip before he snarled with a hiss.

“Fuck you, Weldrick. You know I can’t!” Cal curled back in on himself suddenly, all his bite lost as though he had been kicked.

“Yeah. I know why. You’d eat the clients.” Weldrick gruffly stated before he dragged you away by the arm, turning your head before you were deposited in the kitchen out of sight of Cal, “So is that what you’re sweetening this one up for?”

Cal looked at Weldrick over the top of his sunglasses again, “No.” he slammed the cheap vampire costume cape on the bar top, “I came to give this back.” His nails were claws as he dragged his hand away and he grabbed his forgotten handkerchief from the bar.

Weldrick saw the blood on the cloth, “Cal. You know you can’t do this again.”

“I’m not doing anything.” He insisted, “I’m not relapsing, so stop. Just stop. I’m not an animal and I’m over it. I was trying to…”

“Be a bit more human.” Weldrick finished for him with a thump to the vampire’s shoulder, “Well. Don’t let me stop you, but I’m warning you, I’ll intervene again if I find out that…”

Cal sighed, “I know.” before he walked away from the bar.

 You peered back around the door with a sheepish smile. Weldrick watched the vampire weave his way back up the stairs before he turned around, his giant tattooed arms crossed over his chest.

“What’s the rule, newbie?” he grumbled at you, his nostrils flared and his pierced ears flicking back and forth.

You ducked your head and fiddled with your apron, “No flirting with vampires?” You looked up, “But I was…”

Weldrick grumbled again, “No. You don’t get close with Cal. Flix warned you about him, and about glamouring!” he insisted, “Watch yourself, that’s all I’m saying.” Weldrick sighed and scrubbed at his messy white fur, “Cal’s a good lad. He’s just…got a lot of issues and things going on in that old head of his. You get me?”

You nodded, “I was just being polite and…he seems nice, just a little eccentric.”

Weldrick laughed at you, “Eccentric is one word.” he clapped your back harshly, winding you, “Look after your neck, newbie. Any vamp would like a piece of you, I’m sure. That girlie in the corner had been eyeing you for an hour before Cal showed up to strong arm his claim. He’s taken a liking to you, whether you like it or not!” Weldrick said before he disappeared into the back again and you sat back on your stool. You looked at the young female vampire, decked in dreads and deadly red lip gloss. She avoided looking back at you and disappeared into the crowd.  

 You plucked your novelty cape from the bar top and looked up the stairs, where Cal had disappeared into the crowd and up to his rooms. You took a breath and turned back to the kitchen.

“Weldrick? I’m just going to thank him for bringing my cape back.” You said around the door frame, peeking inside to see Weldrick carrying two new kegs of beer.

“Fine. Watch yourself heading up there, okay? Do you know the code?” he asked as he stepped around you and ducked underneath the bar.

“No, but I figured that Cal would be able to hear me knock?”

Weldrick nodded and gave you a thumbs up from underneath the bar, “Bat ears come in handy sometimes.” he snorted as he undid the old keg.

You left the minotaur tucked underneath the bar and headed towards the stairs; your hands tucked into your apron pocket.

 A few patrons gave you smiles and greetings as you passed them by, and you smiled and rushed along towards the door, marked by a large ‘private’ sign. You felt silly as you stood in front of the door, awkwardly playing with the frill on the cape collar. One deep breath, you told yourself, as you sucked in air, and held it, calming yourself with a long exhale before you knocked timidly. It didn’t take Cal long to unlatch the lock and open the door inwards, his face painted with a frown and his glasses pushed into the top of his hair. His intense eyes met your own before he looked at the cape in your hands.

“Thank you.” You said, “For returning my cape I mean. I didn’t have the balls to come back and ask for it…and now I realise that I was a bit stupid.”

Cal’s eyebrow quirked, “Its not a problem. I realised you’d left it in the bathroom, but I only just now remembered you were on shift.” he reasoned quietly before he hummed, “Would you like to…”

“Sorry but I’m still on shift, and Weldrick will hang me if I leave him to work alone. But really,” you reached out and laid your hand over his, squeezing it slightly as you smiled, “Thank you. Most people wouldn’t have washed it either.”

You left him stood at the door and rushed back through the customers to help Weldrick pull pints for a rowdy group of elves.

 The vampire watched you head back down the stairs with a small grimace before he snatched his hand back to his side and shut the door with a small bang, his other hand clutching the bloodied handkerchief you had given him. He looked at it before heading up the stairs and throwing it into the washing machine in his small flat.

 Cal seemed to warm slightly after that night, and he would linger a little closer to the bar during the nights you were on shift, ignoring your stares as he leaned by the wall in whatever black attire took his fancy, always with a pair of sunglasses over his eyes, and a piece of gum in his fang filled mouth. This night was no different, but Cal weaved his way towards the stage, the chains attached to his jeans swinging as he tugged the band’s lead singer down to tell him something. You looked over, wiping a glass as he pulled himself up on the stage and threw off his jacket and shirt. Your eyes were drawn to the wings and cross on his chest, and then to the upside-down crucifix on his back, seared on his right side with creeping burn scars. The bar fell silent before the screaming started, and people flooded towards the front, pushing and grinning as Cal pushed his sunglasses into his hair and took hold of the microphone stand. He didn’t say anything but the band on stage grinned and nodded to each other as they started the slow chug of a song.

 “Oh, newbie, are you in for a treat tonight.” Flix chuckled behind you as his insect like wings fluttered over the top of your head, “Cal on stage. He’s not sang a song in nearly a year. You better get the mop bucket for the girlies at the front.”

“He can sing?” You asked, confused.

“Don’t you know?” Flix asked back, with a wide-eyed look, “Oh my sun and moon!” he exclaimed, “Cal was part of Black Blood!”

Your mouth fell open, “No fucking way! You’re fucking with me?”

Flix laughed, a gentle tinkering noise next to your ear, “No way, sweetie. He was part of the band until, well…You know the rest.”

“He was a musical god and now he runs a bar?” You stated, “This is surreal.”

“You tend to lose a lot of reputation when you eat fans.” Flix stated before he squealed as he was hit over the head.

 Weldrick snorted from above the two of you, looming like an all-white shadow, “Better believe he was a god.” he hummed before sighing, “Too bad the addiction killed his career, and the band. Durzub never did forgive him. Poor sod.”

“What exactly happened?” You asked but before Weldrick could answer you, Cal opened his mouth. You watched in awe as he formed the words, and the crowd leaned a little closer. He caressed the microphone stand as he started to sing about a night in a dark palace and you swore the crowd swayed with each syllable, as though they were under some kind of spell.

“Is that a glamour spell?” You whispered to Flix.

The fae only grinned, his black eyes sparkling as he turned your face back to the stage, “Just watch.”

So, you did, you watched him sway and sing, his hands slipping across faces and himself as he weaved something like a story. One night of passion before the sunrise split the lovers apart and the dawn burned his skin away. Everything was enchanting, his deep voice like a drug you couldn’t get enough, but each time you leaned closer you shook your head and took a step back. The audience was entranced, and you watched the men and women at the front swoon. An organ melody marked the end of the song, trailing into the soft plucking of a guitar and Cal’s eyes stared across the audience, finding your own. He held the stare for a moment before he pushed his sunglasses back over his eyes and took his shirt and jacket. No one followed him as he weaved through the swaying bodies and disappeared back into the shadows of the bar.

 “What the fuck was that?” You asked as the audience finally came to and started to cheer, “Were they hypnotised?”

Weldrick huffed, “Not quite. His singing has always had that effect, unfortunately. People are just enamoured. He swears there’s not a trick to it, but something about his singing is plain magical.”

“Magical is one word for it.” Flix snorted as he bumped your hip, “I would say sexy.”

“Watch yourself, Flix.” Weldrick laughed as he turned to head back into the cellar.

“It was amazing.” You stated with a sheepish smile, “I wonder if he’ll sing more?”

Flix nipped your cheek with his finger and thumb, “Once a year, sweet thing, once a year.” he punctuated the statement by poking you in the ribs.

“It’s a shame. He sings so beautifully.” You complimented as you took hold of another glass and dried the water off it.

 “I bet you would sing really lovely in bed.” A brash vampire leaned over the bar, flashing his fangs as his blond hair dripped over his eyes. He pushed it back into its styled quiff with a wide, charming smile. He reached for your hand and you took a quick step back, smiling politely.

“Oi. Vampire.” Flix hissed, “You know what’s allowed and what isn’t here.” The fae took you by the shoulders, “No fresh blood. You get the pack stuff, or you find somewhere else to haunt.”

The vampire scoffed, “Why don’t you let them speak for themselves, huh, sparkly boy.” He took your hand again.

“Sir, thank you, but I’m really not interested.” You carefully tried to slide your hand back, but it was caught in the vampire’s iron grip, “If you would like a drink, I can make you one?”

“Get off, fang bag.” Flix snarled.

 You didn’t get to defuse the situation, because as you tugged your hand again, a moment later, the vampire was slammed against the bar, pinned in place by Cal. The older vampire hissed, fangs dripping by the youngster’s ear as he pressed his claws into his neck, cutting the skin underneath his ears.

“Cal!” Weldrick shouted but he was silenced as Cal drew his head away, eyes pulsing red and his mouth open, his nose upturned. His face was the picture of a monstrous bat, feral and unhinged, his skin bleeding to a soft grey.

Cal held up a finger to you all before he leaned back over the vampire pinned to the countertop, “What is the one rule I have here?” He asked, his face contorted like a feral animal.

The youngster hissed pathetically and thrashed.

“I’ll gladly gut you and hang you from a church spire.” Cal threatened, “Or I’ll take this to your maker?”

The youngster pressed himself flat, “We don’t touch the humans.” he said, finally, as he deflated in defeat.

“That’s right.” Cal growled, “So, I suggest you find a new bar to fuck about in.”

 As he finished the sentence, he threw the youngster towards the door, sending him sprawling against the wall with a slam that shook the bar. The male rushed to his feet before escaping out of the entrance, his hair dishevelled and flying around his head. You closed your mouth as Flix placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks, boss.” Flix uttered as he looked over your hand, “You’re gonna have some mean bruises, newbie.” he commented as he turned your hand palm up.

You couldn’t really focus on Flix as you looked Cal in the eyes. His face morphed back to a human looking guise behind a thin curtain of his hair. He moved his black curls back over his shoulder and nodded at you.

“Thank you.” You flinched as Flix prodded at your fingers.

“You’re welcome.” Cal whispered before he turned and walked away, fiddling with his jacket where it was torn by the youngster’s claws.

“Hey!” You pushed Flix’s fretting hands away and ducked through the bar door, rushing to catch up with Cal. He turned just outside the door to the upstairs flat and looked at you as he reached for a piece of spearmint gum, popping the rectangle piece into his mouth as you floundered, “Can…Can I take you out somewhere? To pay you back for everything you’ve done?”

 Cal stopped chewing, his jaw going stiff before he reached for the empty cigarette packet in his jeans pocket and cursed again. He ducked his head, appearing small despite his towering height, standing at well over six feet tall.

“It won’t be, uh, a date or anything, unless you know, you want that. I just want to say thank you, I guess.” You babbled until he reached out his hand.

“Let me see your hand.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a demand.

You held up your bruised hand, “Its nothing.” You deflated, thinking you had been rejected.

Cal looked at your hand for a moment before letting you cradle it again, “Meet me outside. Friday lunchtime. There’s an old diner a few blocks away.” He grumbled quietly.

You smiled and nodded, “Sure. Dinners on me!” You gushed before catching yourself, “Well, not me. I don’t think I have very good blood and…”

Cal let out a low, deep chuckle, before he pushed his sunglasses back up into his hair. His breath smelled like mint as he took your hand and kissed the sore fingers, “See you then.” he rumbled before he unlocked the door and disappeared up the stairs.

 Deciding what to wear seemed like the end of the world until your finally settled on something not too flashy, but a little dressy. You fiddled with the bottom of your shirt as you waited close to the entrance to The Black Dahlia. It was a little past midday and you wondered if you had come a little too early. Your fears were shot when the door opened, and Cal stepped out into the sunlight. He was in his sunglasses, the collar of his duster turned up to hide his cheeks with a black, red trimmed fedora on his head to shield his face from the sun.

“Hey, sorry if I’m a little early.” You smiled as you reached him.

Cal shrugged his shoulders, “Its not a problem. I don’t tend to sleep much… And I heard you arrive.” he tapped his ear underneath his collar, “A vampire thing.”

“Oh…You know I never thought of that.” You confessed before pointing to his hat, “You’re not going to uh, burst into flames, are you?”

Cal’s lips twisted up in a half smile, “No. I’m a little sensitive to sun, but I’m old enough that it isn’t lethal anymore. I wouldn’t have said daytime if I knew I would burst into flames.” he nodded his head, “Come on. The diner isn’t far.”

You followed him happily, not straying too far from his side as you made a bit of idle conversation to fill the silence.

 The diner was three blocks away. Cal opened the door and let you inside first. It was a cosy place, with wooden interiors and metal accents. It was quiet, with no customers milling around just yet, except for a dwarf, who was asleep in one of the booths furthest away from the door. A female elf looked up from her notebook and smiled brightly as Cal entered behind you.

“Clarence!” she tittered, “By the sun! It’s been so long since we’ve seen you! You know we only live four streets away!” she exclaimed before smacking his shoulder with her towel.

“Sorry, Graeliel.” Cal muttered, “Its…”

“Don’t. I know, sweetheart. I know.” Graeliel reached up and took hold of his cheeks between her palms. She patted his face before tossing her brown braids over her shoulders and dashing behind the counter, “Pam! Pamela!” she screeched, “Clarence is here!”

An older orc woman appeared from the kitchen, her chef’s apron splattered with sauce and her mohawk flattened with the heat of the kitchen, “Boy you best hope I don’t get hold of you!” she shouted as she crossed her arms over her chest, “Three years, and not a word! Not a word!”

 Cal shrivelled in on himself a little, “I’m sorry, Pam, Graeliel. I know I should have called or something…”

Pam held up her hand, “Don’t give me that.” she looked down at him and scrubbed at her silver-streaked hair, pulling it back before sighing, “I know, sweetheart. We’ve been worried, is all.”

“Pamela has been beside herself.” Graeliel added before she patted her wife’s shoulder, “But it’s all right. You’re here now…and with company?” She added as she peered around Cal, spotting you stood by the door.

Awkwardly, you gave them both a wave and stepped forwards.

“Ah,” Cal introduced you before adding, “We’re here for lunch if you have the space?”

“Oh but of course!” Graeliel grinned, exposing her slightly sharp, elven teeth, “I didn’t think you would ever find a partner, Cal!”

“You owe me thirty, Graeliel.” Pamela chuckled as she walked back towards the kitchen, “And no, I won’t accept back massages this time!” she shouted out of the door before disappearing again.

 Graeliel took your arms and rolled her eyes at her wife before she led you both over to a booth in the other corner of the restaurant. She grabbed a napkin holder and two sets of cutleries for you both and laid them on the table carefully before she laid two laminated menus down too.

“I’ll go and get you some drinks to let you decide what to have. How does two lemonades sound?” Graeliel smiled as she tucked her notebook in the front pocket of her apron.

“That sounds great.” You answered before you looked to Cal, “Wait. Is that okay?”

The vampire nodded his head, “Its fine. I can still have human food and drink, in moderation. It holds no nutritional value, and a lot makes me feel sick, but its nice sometimes.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that. I don’t think I’ve ever asked a vampire before though.” You smiled. Graeliel nodded and headed off to go and grab you both a drink, leaving you both with the menu and silence, which was occasionally broken by the snoring dwarf at the other side of the diner.

 “What are you going to get?” You asked Cal as you flopped the menu back on the table, “Are the club sandwiches any good?”

Cal shifted and pulled his coat off before reaching up to the top of the window and pulling down a window shade, which kept the sun off him. When he was comfortable, he carefully pulled his glasses and hat off, revealing his steel-coloured eyes. He was dressed in a shirt and a dark pair of jeans with his rosary sat on top of his chest. His black hair fell down his back and he reached to tie it back quickly before he picked up the menu and crossed a leg over his knee, resting the ankle on his knee.  

“The steak is actually decent.” he commented, “But if you want something light the chicken Caesar wrap is great. They source meat from an organic place…I think. It’s been a while since I was last here.”

“The falafel sounds better.” You grinned, having decided on your meal, “What about you?”

Cal peaked at you over the top of his menu, “The usual.” He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back, leaving the menu on top of your own.

“What’s your usual then?” You prodded his hand on the table.

“A pint of blood and a rare steak.” Cal muttered, looking up at you to check for your reaction.

 You were shocked for a moment, before you started laughing, creasing yourself against the table as you saw his eyes widen and his hands fidget with the edge of the table.

“Sorry.” You wheezed, “I just didn’t think you’d say it like that.”

A ghost of a smile turned his lips up at the corners, “People don’t like vampires. I wanted to see what you thought but,” he gestured to your wheezing, “it obviously doesn’t phase you.”

Once you finally caught your breath you looked him in the eye, “No, it doesn’t bother me. You’re just different to me, and that’s not a big deal. I’ve seen some scary vampires, and you’re not one of them.”

“Like the one that tried to snack on you?” Cal added scathingly.

“Yeah. He was…Well if you hadn’t shown up, I might not have gotten out of that one.” You smiled, “So, thank you, again.”

“Stop thanking me.” Cal sighed, “I didn’t do anything special.”

“But to me, you did! So, hush, and let me buy you lunch!” You jeered at him, pointing a fork at his face like a dangerous weapon. Cal smiled again and let it drop as Graeliel came back with your lemonade.

 “Alrighty then.” she pulled out her notepad out and poised her pen for your orders, “What will you lovebirds be having?”

“Graeliel, we’re just here for lunch.” Cal droned as he rubbed at his temples and reached back to pull the other blind down.

“Hush. I know a date when I see one!” Graeliel tapped the top of his head with her pen, “What do you want sweetie?” she asked. Cal opened his mouth again, but she silenced him with a scathing look, like an insistent mother.

“I’ll have the falafel wrap, please.” You ordered and she nodded before looking at Cal.

“The usual, please.” Cal grumbled before taking hold of his icy glass of lemonade and taking a sip. He didn’t make a face at the sourness but turned to look out of the window, before realising he had the blind down, and staring down at his drink, stirring the straw around idly. Graeliel left you both alone to go and give your orders to Pamela. Cal watched her leave before looking back at you with his ghostly smile again.

 “I’m sure you have lots of questions.” he stated before he took another sip of lemonade, “I know I would if I was in your situation.”

You nodded and played with your own straw, “Lots of questions. I saw your face morph into something like I’ve never seen before. You looked like…well, something out of a kids story book.” You took a sip of your drink from your lemonade.

Cal turned his head, avoiding your gaze as a cringe took over his features, “I figured that would be the first thing you asked me about.” he avoided your eyes as he seemed to think about what to say next, “I’m a vampire, yes, but I’m of an old bloodline. Night Terrors. That’s what we were called by the rest of our own race. I suppose we are like bats. Up turned noses, wings and the ability to hang onto any surface.” He droned quietly as the ice in his drink clinked, “Terachi. That’s what we are called now.”

You listened quietly before interjecting gently, “So why don’t you always look like that?”

“Glamouring. Intense glamouring.” Cal mumbled, “Enough that even Flix’s spell doesn’t enable you to see my real face.”

 The words sat heavy in your stomach. Cal refused to look at you for a while, his eyes trained on his lemonade.

“I can hear your brain churning. Its an ugly face. Its something humans would run. I’ve hidden my face behind my human appearance from the day I was turned.” he whispered as he pushed his hair over his shoulder again.

Gently, you took his hand from around the glass, stroking his fingers before you squeezed them and let him have his hand back, “How long have you been in music?” You asked, eager to stop Cal from scowling. He looked at the window again before meeting your eyes again and smiling awkwardly, the corners of his lips twitching.

“I’ve played the violin since I was around eight years old.” Cal turned his straw in his drink, “I learned to play the piano, but also the organ.” He saw your look, “My family was very religious. My mother was a faithful catholic. She married and dragged my father into it. I’ve said my hail Mary’s since I could speak.”

“Is that why you still wear your rosary?” You asked, pointing at the black beads hung around his neck and the cross which rested over his chest. His shirt hid the tattoo he had over his pectorals from view.  

 Cal picked at the cross and regarded the wooden jewellery for a moment before he dropped it back against his chest, “My relationship with the lord is a little complicated.”

“Isn’t everyone’s?” You joked as he shifted in his seat, “I think its nice you still believe. How long have you been, well, like this?” You trailed off at his grimace.

“A vampire?” he asked, “Since I was twenty-six.” He gestured to himself, “It was a service, in 1784. My maker was amazed by my skill with instruments, and I sang for him after. I’ve been like this ever since.” Cal gave himself a disgusted once over, before he looked back down at the wooden table, his nails scratching at the waxy surface, gouging at a name someone had already cut into the top.

“Did you leave anyone behind?” You asked.

“A fiancé. I don’t think I ever loved her like she deserved.” Cal said, “I disappeared after the service. My maker held me like a child as I changed and stopped breathing. I’ve not seen him since...” he trailed off, “I’ve not seen him since I joined Black Blood. That was over twenty-five years ago now.”

“Wow. That’s a long time. Did you fall out over it all?” You asked.

Cal shrugged his shoulders in response, “He didn’t want me out of his clutches I suppose. Either way, its history.” he dismissed any further questions with a wave of his hand.

 As though she had seen the tense situation, Graeliel came tootling over with your meals. The elf laid the two plates down in front of each of you and smiled warmly as she pointed to the lemonade.

“Is the lemonade sweet enough? I let Pam make it this time, and she’s a bit sour, so she skimps on the sugar.” she teased as she leaned back and tucked her towel against her hip.

“Its perfect.” You assured her as you took another drink of it, “Its just sweet enough. Anymore and I think my teeth would rot.” You joked.

She nodded and quickly scuttled to a microwave as it pinged. You watched curiously as Graeliel snipped open a back of blood and poured the contents into a blacked-out pint glass. She returned with the glass and placed it in front of Cal.

“Make sure you don’t eat too much this time, hm?” She patted his hand before she smiled at you brightly and left to go and dispose of some rubbish.

 You looked at the black glass on the table and wondered just if Cal was going to drink it in front of you or not. He met your gaze and shifted back before he took hold of the glass.

“You don’t have to look, if it makes you uncomfortable.” he reasoned, quietly, holding your gaze for a moment before he peered at the deep red contents.

“No.” You swallowed, “Its fine. Go ahead.” You smiled and reached for your cutlery as he nodded and tipped his head back a little. He pressed the glass to his mouth and quickly downed the blood, his throat working as he guzzled at it like a hungry animal. Cal grumbled softly as he finished and licked at the red blood clinging to his top lip before pressing his finger to it and licking that too. He closed his eyes and swallowed the last of it, his nose curled, before he calmed himself down, and looked back at you. His eyes were wide, as though he had thoroughly enjoyed himself, and you smiled at him.

 Cal’s lips curled a little at one corner before he stood to give the glass back to Graeliel. You appreciated the iron smelling glass being moved and carefully started picking at your salad. He returned and you picked up your wrap.

“Well, lets see if you recommended me something decent!” You took a bite and Cal chuckled quietly as your eyes widened at the taste, “Is this home made or something? The sauce is so good.” You said around your mouthful.

Cal nodded with a smile, “They make everything here in house.” he picked up his steak knife and sliced into the very rare steak before feeding himself a small piece, “Still tastes as good as ever.” He leaned to the kitchen and chuckled again.

“Too right it does!” Pamela hollered from the kitchen. You both laughed at her before digging back into your food.

 “Are you two finished?” Graeliel asked as you leaned back and grumbled about being too full. Cal chuckled again as he pushed his sunglasses into his hair, and you nodded with a content sigh.

“Pamela’s cooking has that effect.” Cal added quietly as you patted your stomach and laughed.

Graeliel laughed as well, “I’ll get you both the bill.” she walked happily to the kitchen to deliver your dishes and glasses before going to the cash register and bringing you the total on her notepad, scribbled underneath your orders.

You took the piece of paper, but Cal had already pulled out the cash, placing it on the table for Graeliel before he grabbed his hat and tucked his hair out of the way. He noticed you gawking and tilted his head, “Are you okay with me paying?” he asked curiously.

You nodded before huffing, “Yeah, but next time I get the food.”

Cal paused as he shrugged one arm of his coat on, “Next time?” he asked quietly.

“If you want a next time?” You asked with an embarrassed smile.

He nodded, completely silent as he turned his face away from you. He was incapable of blushing much more than a faint pink tone after a meal, but you caught the slight pink colour to the apples of his cheeks before he flicked his collar up.

 You followed suit and thanked Graeliel and Pamela as Cal rushed for the door, his long, graceful strides carrying him faster than you could ever hope to be.

Graeliel reached to give you a gentle hug which smelled of jasmine, “Look after him for us, hm? He’s such a sweet boy, just a little wounded.”

“I’ll try.” You felt hot and embarrassed, and your cheeks burned as you looked at Pamela’s smirk. You said your goodbyes and rushed after Cal. He held you open the door and silently offered you his arm. You took the arm and linked your own through it. Cal looked at you through the side of his black sunglasses before he smiled a little wider, revealing his sharp, fang like teeth. It was the only part he consistently couldn’t glamour, you had come to realise. You returned his smile and Cal looked down at you. Your eyes followed a piece of hair as it escaped his hair tie and slipped out over his shoulder.

“I’ll walk you home, if you want?” he asked with a small shake to his voice.

You realised then, that you were smitten with him, and smiled brightly, “Sure. Its not too far. I live near the rose garden park.” Cal nodded and ran his cold fingers over your hand before he slipped your hand down and into his own.

 You reached your small flat just as the roads started to get busy with traffic from people going home from work. You reached into your small bag as you neared the door, and quickly rummaged around for your keys. They jingled in your hand as Cal slipped his hand from yours and let you step up to the door alone.

“Thank you.” He uttered, “For taking a chance with me. No one has…been so kind to me in a while. Certainly not someone as gorgeous as you.” Cal whispered the words, as though you weren’t supposed to hear them. He turned his face away from you, his eyes still hidden behind his glasses. The sun was lower in the sky and the beginnings of the sunset were starting, casting an orange glow over his pale skin and the pieces of his black curls which had escaped his ponytail.

“I didn’t take a chance.” You said as you stepped back down in front of him, “I think you’re…You’re much more than just a monstrous vampire. You’re kind, sweet and considerate and…”

“Handsome?” He asked with a quirk to his lips before he licked them and reached out to take your hand again, running his fingers against your own as he digested your words.

“You make me feel…You make me feel grounded. Whole. Like I’m not…” Cal huffed at himself, “Like I’m not some fucking killer freak. I just… I feel like you understand, and I find myself thinking of you, often. I…”

 Gently, you reached up and pressed a warm finger to his lips, quietening his rambling, “I like you too, Cal. I think you’re…”

Cal silenced you as he pushed his sunglasses up into his hair again, revealing his steel-coloured eyes. He stared at you with such intensity, and you were drawn to the soft curve of his lips all too easily. He smelt like peppermint again, but you forgot that as he pressed his lips to yours. They were soft but icy cold. The temperature made you jump, but you quickly pressed to him. Cal grumbled something before you were backed against the door, his fangs grazing your bottom lip as his cold tongue brushed against your lips. You opened your mouth and moaned quietly as he kissed you deeply, his fangs grazing your lips again. He drew away, as though shot, and you smiled at the blackness to his eyes and the grey sheen to his skin. His nose curled and you touched the pointed tip of his upturned nose before pushing your hands over his shoulders and feelings the musclar tops of his wings. They flexed beneath his coat, the clawed tips scrapping against the concrete before he dived in to nip your lips again.

“I adore you.” He purred as you felt the tips of his ears and fumbled for the handle. The door opened with a soft click and you pulled on his hands. He caught himself at the door, letting you hold his hands before he was drawn into you and found your lips again, “You complete me.” He moaned against your cheek before you closed the door.

[haileygarciasunshine]

10 Things I Hate About You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Written: April 19th, 2021

Posted: April 19th, 2021

Warning: Swearing, Mentions of alcohol, dive bar, mentions of misogyny, Fluff.

Word Count: 1,840

Summary: Loosely based on the movie 10 Things I Hate About You.

TV and Movie inspired Masterlist

"Come on, Buck." Steve groaned while he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "You haven't dated since the forties. Don't you think it's time to get back out there?" He nudged his friend's shoulder as they continued walking side by side down the sidewalk.

The bitter night breeze met the slight barrier of their leather jackets, that slightly reflected the street lights.

Bucky huffed, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know.."

Steve sighed. "She won't go out with me unless her best friend has someone to go out with too."

"Tragic story," Bucky spoke rolling his eyes. "But I don't see what that has to do with me."

"Well...." Steve's voice trailed off as he reached up scratching the back of his neck. Once they walked to the bar, both men came to a halt standing awkwardly before one another. Each man giving his tell of anxiety. Bucky, glanced down at his gloved covered hands, as he fidgeted with the seams. While Steve, reached for the back of his neck scratching it.

"Well... You.. You see.." Steve shifted from foot to foot as he attempted to piece together words that wouldn't bring Bucky to alert. "She's.." Letting out a huff, he furrowed his eyebrows together as his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. "She's not like a typical girl."

"I...I don't know how to explain her to you-" Steve gave up his attempt. "Come on, see for yourself." Opening the door, Steve led Bucky towards the stools you and Sharon were sitting.

"Here, let's sit here and you can form your own opinion of her." Steve spoke, flagging the bartender as they sat on the side of the bar with the ability to watch anything unfold.

--

"Come on, Y/N." Sharon groaned. "Give him a chance."

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. Lifting your drink to your mouth, you attempted to ignore her pleads.

"I...I just want you to be happy." She frowned as her eyes filled with sorrow.

"What makes you think I'm not happy?" You questioned raising an eyebrow at her, as you felt your eyebrows furrow together.

"It's just-"

Cutting her off, one of the many sleazy men that had been ogling your best friend had decided now would be the time for him to make a move.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." The man grinned giving Sharon a head-to-toe survey. Turning his attention to you, he was taken back by your rough around the edges exterior.

"Aw, it's okay princess." He cooed at you, reaching his hand up towards your face attempting to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

Swatting at his hand, you felt your blood beginning to boil. The music that had been streaming through the speakers seemed to quiet, as everyone's eyes were on you in anticipation for how you would react.

"Don't touch me." You hissed through clenched teeth, holding Sharon's gaze.

"Come on, babe." The man continued, his hand landing on the ledge of the bar attempting to cage you in. "With a body like that, you should be grateful, I haven't-"

Raising your eyebrows, you felt heat dance upon your cheeks while adrenaline coursed through your veins. Whirling your head in the direction of the man, you scoffed. "I should be grateful, is that right?"

"Y/N..." Sharon spoke attempting to calm your sudden rage.

"Well..." You stood, nearly knocking the man to the ground. Moving around him, you stood in the walking aisle. Placing your purse strap on your shoulder, you kept one hand closed around it. "I guess in this society, being male and an asshole...Makes you worthy of our time." You spat, as you felt your features harden.

Cheers erupted from all areas of the bar, as you carried a smile while walking to the entry of the bar receiving pats on the back and praise from strangers.

Once the door closed, Steve cleared his throat as he brought Bucky's attention back to the previous topic. "So-"

"You need someone who doesn't scare easy." He spoke, nodding his head in understanding. Raising the bottle to his lips, he gulped a sip before letting out a sigh. "When's the date?"

Catching him by surprise, Steve gazed at Bucky in confusion, before a smirk made its way upon his lips.

--

"What if he doesn't like me?" Sharon questioned her face filled with concern.

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms along your chest. "He would be stupid not to." You sighed. "Besides, there's plenty of other guys that are dying to take you out."

"Y/N!" She groaned, stomping her foot in the process. "You're not helping!"

"Well, do you want the truth or do you want me to lie?" You questioned raising your eyebrows.

Before either of your could finish your conversation, the sound of rapid knocks on your front door bounced off the walls.

Silently, you thanked whoever was at the door, for interrupting your argument. Walking towards the door, Sharon was hot on your heels.

Opening the door, you frowned as your gaze fell upon the two men standing before you.

"Uh, can I help you?" You questioned crossing your arms along your chest.

Clearing his throat, the blonde shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I'm here to pick up, Sharon."

Turning to face your friend, her face was illuminated with something you hadn't seen cross her face in a long time.

Bringing your attention back to the men before you, the blonde had his eyes locked on Sharon. Stepping out of your apartment, they linked their arms together before the hallway was filled with giggles and chuckles.

Momentarily, you had forgotten he had come with his friend. Clearing his throat, your attention was brought back to the man before you with a baseball cap upon his head.

"So-"

"No, thanks." You spat, taking a step back readying to shut your door in his face. "Not interested."

Slamming the door shut, you leaned against it as you closed your eyes attempting to regain your breath, that the icy-eyed man seemed to have stolen.

Sighing, he screwed his eyes shut.

--

Minutes before reaching your door.

"Come on, Buck." Steve pleaded. "You promised!"

Bucky groaned. "You saw how she ate that man from the bar and spit him out."

Steve sighed, defeat quickly setting in. "But, you're Bucky Barnes. A super-soldier, former hydra assassin, former Winter Soldier..." He spoke clasping his hand onto Bucky's shoulder. "You can do this."

"Fifty dollars." He negotiated. Crossing his arms along his chest sending a glare in Steve's direction.

"I'm not paying you to go out with a girl!" Steve exclaimed mirroring Bucky's stance.

"Then I'm not-"

"Fine."

"Fine?" Bucky questioned surprise etching along his features.

"Fine." Steve shrugged, pulling out his wallet and handing him a fifty-dollar bill. "Now, let's go."

--

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he made a mental note to tell Steve he would be upping his price if this were to continue.

Forming a fist, he lifted his hand, rapidly knocking on your door.

"Go away!" You yelled from the other side of the door. "I'm not buying what, you're selling!"

"I can do this all day, doll." He chuckled.

Yanking open the door, you sent him a deadly glare. "Leave before I call the cops for solicitation."

Pushing past you, he made his way into your apartment as he ignored your protests. Shrugging off his jacket, he placed it on your coat stand, before putting his hands in his front pockets.

Groaning, you shut your door, before turning to face him.

"Not too shabby." He spoke aloud.

"Gee, thanks." You spat. "I always hoped to gain the approval of someone who trespassed into my apartment."

Rolling your eyes, you plopped down on your couch before resuming your show. Letting out a content sigh, you had almost forgotten about tall dark-haired man.

Sitting beside you, he made himself comfortable, placing his arm along the backside of your couch.

As some time passed, there was a comfortable silence between you.

"I'm Bucky." His husky voice causing your stomach to flutter.

Nodding your head, you attempted to ignore him. "I didn't ask."

Silence fell between you. Frowning, you let out a defeated sigh.

"Y/N."

Much to Bucky's surprise, he hadn't expected you to respond much less give him some sort of acknowledgment of his presence.

"I sure hope you're not going soft on me, Y/N," Bucky spoke in a playful tone. You could hear the smile in his voice.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

As time passed, you couldn't concentrate on the show, but more so on the built man beside you. Your mind had convinced you that he was slowly but surely moving closer towards you.

Deciding you wanted to check, you turned to face him only to notice his thigh was millimeters from coming in contact with yours.

With widened eyes, you lifted Y/E/C eyes only to lock eyes with his ocean-colored ones.

"What?" He questioned attempting to be nonchalant about it. Bucky was well aware of what had gotten to you.

For once, you were at a loss for words. Opening and closing your mouth a few times you felt your mouth going dry. The smell of his cologne filled your senses, as you were overwhelmed by Bucky.

Your front door flew open, revealing a very inebriated Sharon and Steve. Both you and Bucky jumped away from one another as if you had been caught in the act of something intimate.

Jumping to his feet, Bucky turned to face you offering you his hand. Gazing at his covered hand then his features, you felt betrayed by yourself as you accepted his gesture allowing him to tug you to your feet.

Clearing your throat, you moved around the coffee table and assisted Sharon to the couch.

"I...I should get him home." Bucky spoke as he maneuvered Steve's arm across his shoulders allowing him to hold most of his friend's weight.

Humming in response, you crossed your arms along your chest nodding your head. As Bucky crossed the threshold into the hallway, he halted his movements.

"I had fun, not doing anything with you." He spoke grinning at you when he saw a pink dance along your cheeks.

Rolling your eyes you shook your head. "Goodnight, Bucky."

Shutting your door, you leaned against it as you let your head fall onto it with a soft thud. Butterflies had begun erupting in your stomach as heat rose along your features.

"Did someone thaw that ice-cold heart of yours?" Sharon questioned suggestively wiggling her eyebrows at you.

Groaning, you ignored her comment turning your attention back towards the show you were watching. Your mind clouded with thoughts of Bucky.

"Just so you know, Steve and I made plans for our next date," Sharon muttered as she closed her eyes, allowing slumber to overwhelm her.

Her confession did nothing to halt the butterflies in your stomach. Grinning to yourself, you couldn't stop yourself from the thought of seeing Bucky again.

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[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E4; Chapter Four, The Body - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧.

WARNINGS: Cursing. Homophobic comments from Tr*y [his in script use of the word fa*ry once] Reader fucking SNAPS.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

The five of us rode our bikes down the road to school, El on the back of Mike's bike as usual. She seemed eager to soak in everything around her like she would never see it again. Wind brushed the wig aside and she clung tightly to Mike.

Mike was beginning to slow down, the group of us all growing tired from the ride. Soon enough, however, we were walking through the back doors to the schools. Mike was in the lead as he turns to speak to us as we walked.

"Okay, remember, if anyone sees us, look sad."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

'He is still missing, isn't he?'

My thoughts were interrupted by the crackling of the speaker.

"Attention students, there will be an assembly to honor Will Byers in the gymnasium now. Do not go to fourth period."

I looked to the ceiling at the mention of my best friend and by the time I looked ahead, we had made it outside the AV room. Mike was attempting to open the door but it must be locked.

"It's locked." Mike confirmed.

"What?" Lucas asked.

"Hey, El, is there any way for you to open it?" I ask.

Before she could respond, we all jumped at the voice of Mr. Clarke and froze.

"Boys? Lady." He nodded towards El.

"Hey." Lucas breathed, obviously startled.

"Assembly's about to start."

"We know. We're just, you know..." Mike works a solemn look on his face as he spoke and the others seemed to join in, including me although it wasn't that difficult.

"Upset." Lucas nodded, dropping his nervous smile.

"Yeah, definitely upset," Dustin muttered.

I opened my mouth to speak, but thought better to say nothing at all and even looked down to the ground. Channeling all my emotions from just hours before.

"We need some alone time."

"To... cry." Dustin hesitated.

"Yeah, listen... I get it. I do. I know how hard this is, but let's just be there for Will, huh? And then," Mr. Clarke reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.

He tossed the key to Mike who caught it upon instinct.

"the Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day. What do you say?"

We all looked to each other, wearing subtle triumphant smirks. It couldn't have been that easy, could it?

Mr. Clarke seemed to finally notice that he had no idea who El was.

"I don't believe we've met. What's your name?"

El seemed shocked and began to say 'Eleven' when Mike panicked and cut in.

"Eleanor! She's my, uh-"

"Cousin!" Lucas jumped in.

"Second cousin," Dustin added.

I started to laugh but caught myself just in time to play it off as a cough. I pretended to clear my throat as I looked to Mr. Clarke who was looking a bit confused.

"She's here for Will's funeral." Mike sighed.

Mr. Clarke seemed content with this answer as he shrugged and turned to her.

"Ah, well, welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor. I wish you were here under better circumstances."

She looked to us and Mike, then turned to Mr. Clarke nodding her head. "Thank you."

A small smile fought its way into my face. She was doing great.

"Uh, where are you from exactly?"

El shook her head, sighing exasperatedly. "Bad place-"

"Sweden!" Dustin cuts in.

"I have a lot of Swedish family."

"She hates it there."

"Cold!"

"Subzero."

Meanwhile, I had fought back another laugh at the whole exchange and I had to play it off as a cough yet again.

"Are you alright, Mr. Henderson?"

My head snapped up, but luckily I was fairly quick on my feet this time.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I woke up with a fever, haven't been feeling well all morning. But I insisted on coming. For Will." Mr. Clarke seemed satisfied with my answer and dismissed our odd behavior.

"Shall we?"

"Yep!" We all follow Mr. Clarke to the gymnasium in silence.

As we get closer, I can hear the principal speaking from inside.

"At times like these, it is important that we come together as a community. We come-"

Dustin swung open the gymnasium doors far too hard and the loud bang echoed throughout the gym that had drawn the attention of the crowd. I elbow Dustin. I feel him shifting on his feet beside me as panic sets in.

"Abort." He whispers, turning to leave.

Thankfully, Lucas stops him and shoved him forward.

"We come together to heal... we come together to grieve..."

As the principle continues his speech, the five of us wander into the bleachers to find a seat.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Will Byers' death is an unimaginable tragedy. Will was an exceptional student and a wonderful friend to all of us. It's impossible to express the hole his loss will leave in our community. I'd like to introduce you to Sandy Sloane. She's a local grief counselor from the church over in Jonesboro."

While the principal carried on, the five of us all looked to each other, all sharing the same thought.

'We need to get to that radio. And soon.'

"I just want those of you who are having trouble dealing with this tragic loss..."

"Look at these fakers." I heard Mike whisper.

"They probably didn't even know his name till today." Lucas scoffed.

My head whipped to the side when I heard hushed chuckling. I wasn't surprised to see Troy and his friend as the source of the laughter. I glared daggers into them and my hands gripped the edge of my seat until I was sure my knuckles would tear.

The boys and El seemed quick to follow my gaze because soon enough, we were all leaning over glaring at them.

"Who is interested in this? This is so stupid." He laughed.

I grit my teeth as my vision filled with red.

"Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah..."

"Y/n..." Lucas warned, reaching out for my arm. I wasn't paying attention, but for some reason, I felt his hand leave my arm almost as soon as he grabbed it.

"'Oh, he was such a great student. Oh, he's going to leave a hole in the community.'" Troy mocked, beginning to fake sob.

I began to shake with rage, wanting nothing more than to stand up and scream 'fu-'

"Y/n,"

"What?!" I hissed at Lucas, my head whipping around to face him, my jaw clenched.

I saw fear in his eyes as he glanced between my eye line and my hands. I looked down at my own hands to see the dangerously strong grip on the wood. I yanked my hands off the bench and rubbed my hands together, keeping to myself.

I was shocked to see the faintest imprint of the most vaguely shaped hand on the bench. It was hardly noticeable and I had to do a double take.

'What the hell?'

El was leaning over and she met my gaze. She briefly looked at my hands, seeming to dismiss whatever thoughts she had. Then looked to Troy.

"Mouth breather." She whispered.

I let out a strained chuckle and nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, mouth breather." I whispered, looking back and Troy.

Eventually, the bell rang, dismissing the assembly. Even though Lucas and Dustin seemed to have let it go, Mike and I were not finished.

"Hey! Hey! Hey Troy." Mike called.

I could tell he could hear us because he barely slowed down but was clearly laughing. I stomped towards him and called him out, loud and clear.

"Hey, jackass!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. He seemed like he wanted to be mad, but almost like he was happy he got a rise out of us.

"You think that shit was funny?" My voice never wavered and the boys and El seemed just as shocked as I was feeling at my newfound courage.

"What'd you say, orphan?" He asked, dumbfounded.

He only called me that when he was really pissed at me.

"You heard me! And how many times do I have to tell you, I'm not an orphan if I was adopted, you dumbass! Now what the hell is in that tiny brain of yours that would compel you to laugh at someone dying, huh? I mean, shit, you must really be sick in the head. I feel sorry for you." I spit out my last few words, my voice dripping with malice.

By now I was in his face, finally letting out all the pent-up aggression I've harbored for years. And it felt good.

"Get the hell outta my face, freak!" He yells shoving me back.

I get ready to strike but Dustin grabs my arm before my fist can collide with Troy's face. I struggle to get free but my brother was determined to hold me back, with the help of Lucas of course.

"Control your 'brother', Toothless. Or he just might lose a few teeth of his own." He glares at me and I still attempt to break free.

Mike seems to have found his voice as all of this happened because he was the next to speak.

"H-Hey, he's right! Laughing like that? That's a pretty messed up thing to do."

Troy, glares at us as his minion speaks.

"Didn't you listen to the counselor, freaks? Grief shows itself in funny ways."

"You little shit-" I attempt once more to get a right hook in but Lucas stops me.

Troy laughs at me struggling.

"Besides, what's there to be sad about, anyway? Will's in fairyland now, right? Flying around with all the other little fairies. All happy and gay!"

Lucas loosened his grip on me, silently letting me go as Troy began dancing around, mocking Will.

I swung my fist and I felt it collide with his nose with a satisfying crack. He stumbled back and grasped his nose in surprise, he pulled his hand away to find a few drops of blood on his hands. The crowd that had gathered while all of this unfolded, gasped in surprise. I even earned some scattered cheers among the students.

I seemed to realize the consequences of my actions, but I was prepared to face them. It was worth it. I watched as he stormed towards me, blinded by fury.

"You're dead, freak!" He stomped towards me at a shocking speed and I stumbled back, bracing myself for the inevitable retaliation but it never came.

All I felt was a sudden pair of hands on my right arm, harshly pushing me out of the way. I looked in time to see it was Mike who pushed me out of the way. I gakwed in confusion at what happened next.

Troy had just begun to raise his arm as he was only inches from Mike when he froze.

He completely froze in place.

He seemed just as confused, if not more than anyone. That confusion quickly bubbled into fear as his eyes scanned the room as much as he could without moving his head.

It finally dawned on me and I spared a quick glance at El, who was laser-focused on Troy, head tilted down and the smallest hint of blood dripping from her nose. I smirked and looked back to Troy, a smug smile on my face.

I couldn't hold back the laughter as I saw his pants begin to dampen with urine. A stream of it began pooling at his leg, and it even soaked into his socks and shoes. Other students caught on quickly and one boy in particular, began laughing.

"Dude, Troy peed himself!"

The circle of kids erupted into laughter as Troy stood frozen in a puddle of his own pee. I turned to El, who wore a devilish smirk on her face as she glanced between Mike and me. She quickly wiped her nose and started walking away. The boys and I enjoyed this brief moment of bliss.

"Hey! What is going on here?" The principle shouted.

"Come on!" I whisper, gesturing for the boys who all had the same idea. Before people could start asking questions we grouped together and made our way to the AV room unnoticed.

[retrogeekgal]

Captain’s Orders - Dark! Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: After the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., Steve assumes his role as Hydra’s new leader and takes what he’s been promised- you. Whether you want him or not.

Warnings: Dark!Steve, Restraints, Non-Con, Gagged Reader, Dirty talk, Choking, Rough Sex, Fear, Threats of Imprisonment, Threats of Murder, Crying, Mind Fuckery, Slapping

This gets real dark folks, you’ve been warned. 18+. Otherwise, enjoy ;) “Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes!” You call out from the kitchen. Shutting off the burner on the stove, you turn around and see Steve leaning against the island. He gives you a brief smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Hey,” You say brightly, admiring the way his broad shoulders fill out his button down shirt. “You have perfect timing.” You smile back at him and point up to one of the cabinets. “I can’t reach the bowls, would you mind?” 

“Sure thing, Princess.” Steve shrugs, pushing himself off the counter. He reaches above you as you stare at him. Princess? 

You raise your eyebrows in confusion. “Princess? Why on earth would you -.”

The words have barely left your lips when the back of his hand connects with your cheek. You tumble to the floor and scoot yourself back against the lower cabinets. Pressing your palm to the heated skin on your face, you turn your gaze upwards. “Steve, what’s gotten into you?” 

“You don't talk back to your Captain.” He crosses his arms, eyes narrowing as they meet yours. “Obviously you need to be reminded of your place.” 

Scrambling to your feet, you reach for the butcher block, but Steve is too quick. Your fingers barely graze the handle of a chef’s knife before you're pulled away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He harshly grabs your wrist, pulling you close to him. 

“Stop, please. You’re scaring me.” You try to push yourself away but he tightens his grip, now locking both wrists in his fist. “Why are you acting like this, Steve? This isn’t like you.” 

Steve lets out a low chuckle that makes you shiver. “You’re right, but I’m tired of doing what’s expected of me, doll. Being the dutiful soldier, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s poster boy? That was all I cared about. Until I was shown a different path."

A different path? What is he talking about?

"After S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, I wanted to be more than just Captain America. If I led Hydra in this new century, they'd give me what I wanted most. That's you, doll. Everything I'm going to do to you? There’s a part of me that’s wanted to since I met you. This is what I’m owed; what Hydra’s promised me.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?!” You call out frantically, panic lancing through you. “Get Tony or Sergeant Barnes down here, please!”

“I’m sorry.” The A.I. responds immediately. “But you do not have authorization. Your request is denied.” 

He lets out another laugh, shaking his head. “No one’s coming to save you, doll. If they didn’t fall in line with the new order, I had them killed.” Your eyes widen in mounting terror at his words. “Tony understood what’s expected of him; locked you out of the system days ago.”   

Before you can say anything, he shoves a dish towel into your mouth, gagging you. With his free hand, he undoes his belt, causing panic to rise in your chest. You struggle against him and without hesitation, Steve whirls you around, trapping your wrists behind your back with his belt.

 The way you’ve been gagged and the roughness of the leather on your skin is a horrifying feeling and no matter how much you twist and pull at it, the belt refuses to loosen. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Struggle for me, I’m going to enjoy breaking you.” He shoves you towards the kitchen island and you can’t help but stumble. His fingers knot into your hair, pulling at the root, to steady you. 

“You’ve been such a bad girl. I need to remind you what happens when you make your Captain angry.” You can hear the smirk in his tone as he pushes your chest down against the cold marble. 

Closing your eyes tightly, you fight back the tears and try to beg him to stop through the towel. The words come out muffled and unclear. “Oh, doll, did you say something? I couldn’t hear you. Maybe try speaking up?” Steve laughs, reaching forward for the gag. 

He’s pulling it out, thank - Your thoughts scatter as he pushes the towel further into your mouth and you struggle not to choke on it. 

As his hand snakes up the back of your dress, you hear another voice from the doorway of the kitchen. “What’s going on here?” Your eyes shoot open and lock on Tony’s face. His brown eyes squint in confusion as you attempt to spit out the gag. When it doesn’t move, you struggle further and shake your head. 

Steve tugs you off the counter by your hair, locking his arm around your restrained ones. “What the fuck do you think is going on?” He shoves you forward slightly and you whimper in fear.

“Cap, she doesn’t seem to be okay with this.” Tony inclines his head in your direction and steps further into the kitchen. Thank goodness, Tony will put a stop to this. Once you’re safe, you can both figure out what to do next. Obviously something is wrong with Steve, what he was saying didn’t make any sense. 

You frantically shake your head, only stopping when Steve yanks your head back further, forcing you to look up. “Don’t you fucking move.” He growls low in your ear. “Obviously she isn’t, Stark. But that’s half the fun, isn’t it? She struggles so nicely for me.” 

“Mmm, it does make it better if they try to fight you.” Tony agrees as he closes the distance between you. He reaches up, roughly caressing your swollen cheek. “Oh honey, I gotta tell ya, you look so much prettier when you’re trussed up like this.” Dread settles in your stomach as you look up into his cold eyes. 

His hand travels down your neck and settles on the buttons of your dress. Once you realize what Tony’s going to do, you try to struggle away from him frantically. Steve’s fingers move from your hair to wrap tightly around your throat. “What did I just fucking say?”

You freeze when he further tightens his grip in warning. You squeeze your eyes shut as Tony’s fingers deftly unbutton the top of your dress. “Open your eyes, honey, I want you to look at me when I’m touching you.” 

Sniffling, you do as he says and he smirks, eyes flickering up to Steve. “Did you not teach her manners? You said you wanted her for your own, I figured you’d get her in line.”

“She doesn’t understand how it’s going to be around here from now on.” Steve chuckles. “But I plan to make sure she obeys me.” 

“Guess you’re gonna have to beat it into her.” Tony chuckles, running his fingers along the curve of your breasts. “Hydra, Cap, won’t put up with your disobedience.”

Steve tightens his grip around your neck as he lifts you off the ground, cutting off your air. “He’s right, we won’t.” He flexes his fingers against your throat and your eyes flutter when your toes try to touch the floor. Through the gag, you try to beg him to stop. The choking sound you make elicits a wide grin from the man in front of you.

“My god, she’s terrified. That’s so fucking hot.” Adjusting his pants, Tony clears his throat and looks over to Steve with a smirk. “You’re gonna turn her into such a good girl for you.” 

“I plan to.” Steve laughs dangerously. He lowers you back to the floor but doesn’t quite loosen his grip. You greedily suck in as much air through your nose as you can.

“I’ve done everything you’ve asked, Cap. I disposed of Romanov and Barton. Helped you get Fury.” Tony looks down at you with lust in his eyes and you shiver without meaning to. “I want a turn.” He moves to unbutton his own pants and then reaches for the gag in your mouth. “You think she’s a beggar or a screamer?”

Steve backs away, holding you tight to his chest. “As entertaining as it would be to watch her get used by you Stark, I don’t share my toys.” 

Disappointment in his eyes, Tony crosses his arms and makes a face. “Not even once? Come on Rogers, I’ll let you break her. I just want to see why you’ve kept her around.” Steve growls in response, possessively moving his arm from behind your back to your chest. 

“Fine.” Tony huffs in annoyance. “What are you planning to do with her when you’re done?” 

“You know exactly what I’m going to do.” At Steve’s words, you shake your head, silently begging one of them to come to their senses. You can feel tears prick your eyes and desperately will them not to fall.

“What a waste.” Tony sighs heavily, buttoning his pants while looking you over. “Just do it in here. I don’t want to have to hire someone to get that much blood out of the carpet.”

Your eyes widen in terror. Surely Tony doesn’t mean... You know you should try to fight but it’s completely useless. With your hands bound behind your back and Steve’s hand around your throat, you know there is nothing that can be done. Squeezing your eyes shut once again, you let out a sob that makes both men laugh. 

“Have fun. I can’t wait to watch F.R.I.D.A.Y. 's security footage later.” He grins over his shoulder as he walks away. “Make her scream for me.” 

“See, doll?” Steve whispers in your ear as he walks you back towards the island. “I told you no one cares about you.” He pushes you back down onto the marble, hand returning to its place up your dress. “Now, where were we?” 

 You can hear his jeans unzipping and you can’t help but try to twist away from him. It’s a futile effort, you know you won’t be able to stop him, but you have to try. “Go ahead, struggle all you want. I promise you aren’t going anywhere.” 

You can hear the sound of a kitchen knife being unsheathed from the block and can’t stop the tears from flowing freely. You’re expecting pain but instead, you feel your panties being ripped away from your body. Your sobs come out muffled from the towel stuffed in your mouth; your body tenses, knowing what he’s about to do. 

“Please, please give me a reason to hurt you.” He threatens and the calmness in his voice is so out of place given the situation you're in. "Because, honestly, I’d love nothing more.” Without warning, he slams into you and you choke back the muffled scream. “I mean, how do you think this is going to end for you? You aren’t walking away from this.”

He pulls out fully and before you can catch your breath, he slams into you again. You try to kick out your legs, hoping to connect with him. Instead, he chuckles and pushes you further up onto the counter, causing your feet to dangle inches above the floor.

 "You’re still trying to defend yourself? That’s cute, I don’t know if you’re brave or just stupid." Not stopping his relentless motion, he slaps you hard across your upper thigh. The stinging coupled with Steve’s tight grip on your wrists only makes you sob harder. “You can’t fight me doll, you’re just making it worse for yourself.”

Tears fall from your eyes and pool on the marble countertop as he forces his way inside you over and over. You keep your eyes squeezed shut and try to keep breathing evenly through your nose. Every snap of his hips is designed to hurt you, punish you for whatever wrongdoing Steve seems convinced you’ve committed. 

His fingers find their way into your hair and he tugs at your scalp while letting out a deep groan. He finishes as suddenly as he started, tilting his hips as far into you as he’s able. 

Still buried in you, Steve leans forward and brushes your hair from your face. The gesture should be sweet but comes off foreign given what’s just happened between you. “So tight for me, doll.” He whispers next to your ear before taking a step back. 

You hear him shuffle behind you before he grabs your shoulder and flips you around. Your hands are now trapped between you and the counter as Steve leans back down to run his hands along your collarbones and the curve of your breasts. He tilts his head as you shudder from his unwanted touch. 

As you watch him uneasily, his fingers move to caress your cheek. “You’ll do exactly as I say from now on. When I want you, I’ll take you. Anywhere, anytime.” You sob through the gag at his words. Why was he doing this to you? 

Steve reaches for the towel and roughly pulls it from your mouth. Tossing it to the side, he examines you with contempt. “But as much I love this sweet little pussy of yours, if you don’t obey me, I’ll make you disappear.”

“You don’t mean that.” You whisper softly, voice trembling with fear. “Steve, you’re a good man. You can’t really think that leading Hydra is what’s going to make you happy.” Steve smiles in a way that sends a shiver down your spine and you close your eyes expecting to be slapped again. 

What you don't expect is the sound of metal scraping against the marble counter. Your eyes fly open and wildly connect with his. Steve stands a few feet back from you, holding the large knife. “Not happy, huh?” He grins again, casually flipping the knife in his hand. “You have a ten second head start doll, and you better pray that I don’t catch you.” 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you stare at him for a moment. “What are you -” 

Steve flips the knife once more and starts counting down from ten. When he hits seven, you push yourself up with your shoulders and try to bolt out of the kitchen. You get through the doorway and turn back to see if he’s still standing where he was. Seeing nothing, you turn back around and slam into his chest. 

Without your hands to steady you, the force of it knocks you to the ground. Before you can scramble backward, Steve is on top of you, straddling your hips. “One.”  

You open your mouth to scream but stop when he leans forward, pressing the blade to your throat. “I’d think carefully about your next words, they might be your last.” 

“Why?” You whisper, closing your eyes to stop the tears. 

“Because I saw the way you looked at me. Until now, I wouldn’t have had the balls to make a move and do to you what I really want.” Steve sneers, laughing when your eyes open and stare up at him through your tears. “I have the power now.” He tosses the knife to the side and your eyes follow the movement before looking back up at him in confusion. 

When he wraps both hands around your throat, you thrash frantically beneath him as fresh panic sets in. “Steve, please don’t do this -” You can only wheeze out the words before he tightens his grip, cutting your air off completely.

“This is your life now, doll.” He leans down, his face inches from yours. You struggle to get air into your lungs as he presses down harder on your throat. “Over and over I’m gonna use you, even after you pass out. I’m not going to stop.” He continues squeezing, watching your useless struggling with dark amused eyes. 

As your vision starts to blur, you can feel the tears sliding down your cheeks. You feel yourself going limp, your body too weak from the lack of oxygen to fight him any longer.

With a shuddering breath, you feel yourself grey out, only to be startled awake by Steve’s hands on your shoulders. “Sweetheart! You’re having a bad dream!” You push yourself up with wild eyes, too terrified to speak. “Are you ok?” He asks softly, pushing the covers back from your shared bed. 

“No,” you whisper, meeting the kind blue eyes of the man you love. “I just need a minute.” You slide out of bed and walk toward your closet to grab a robe that you hope will chase away the lingering chill in your heart. When you slide open the door and flip the light, your eyes scan the row of clothes for what you're looking for.

You tilt your head when the sleeve of Steve’s uniform catches your eyes. Stepping closer, you run your fingers over the material, confused by the crimson and black of the tactical suit in your hands. 

“Oh doll,” Steve chastises from behind you, his voice taking on a vicious, mocking tone. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

[alittlebitmaybe]

i’ll stay warm

for @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo​!

Prompt: ice skating

Relationship: Geraskier

Rating: G (with very mild language and a tiny bit of blood)

Warnings: None

Other Tags: Fluff, Companionable Snark, Already Dating But Too Dumb To Notice, First Kiss

“Let me get this straight,” Geralt says.

Jaskier waves him on.

“You’re going to tie those—,” he gestures to the slim planks of iron on Jaskier’s kitchen table that have leather cords threaded through holes bored into either end, “—to your shoes, and you’re going to go down to the river and stand on it.”

Jaskier, unperturbed, says brightly, “Uh-huh!”

Read more on ao3 or below the cut!

“Let me get this straight,” Geralt says.

Jaskier waves him on.

“You’re going to tie those—,” he gestures to the slim planks of iron on Jaskier’s kitchen table that have leather cords threaded through holes bored into either end, “—to your shoes, and you’re going to go down to the river and stand on it.”

Jaskier, unperturbed, says brightly, “Uh-huh!”

Geralt says, “Why?”

“Because Priscilla asked me along, and it’s good fun, and you can do all sorts of loop-de-loops and swirlies and spinnies and whozits and, uh, whatzits. I dunno, Pris knows all the tricks, I never got the hang of it. But, Geralt, people have been doing this in Oxenfurt for years. It’s the only way fashionable and exciting persons such as I pass the winter these days, gliding as an angel over the ice, cheeks chapped fetchingly pink, you know, it’s all very attractive, one may say winsome—”

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Geralt crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back in the small chair and tucks his shoulders in. He takes up too much space in Jaskier’s quarters, and already he rues the day he agreed, in a fit of insanity, to pass the season in the city instead of trekking up to Kaer Morhen as usual. “You’re going to die.”

Jaskier hacks a laugh into his steaming mug and nearly spills tea all down his robed front.

“Nonsense!” he cries, once he has recovered himself. “We go every year once the freeze is hard enough, me and Pris and all my many other dazzling friends, which I absolutely have.”

“And if Priscilla told you it was fashionably good fun to walk yourself off a cliff…”

“I’d do it, obviously,” says Jaskier, not missing a beat. “Haven’t you ever had to cross a frozen river on your travels, Witcher? How’d you go about it then, if not on skates?”

Geralt levels him an incredulous look. “How would I get a horse across a frozen river?” he asks, and Jaskier frowns in thought as he takes another sip.

“I mean, you could just—,” he mimes pushing outward with one palm, “—give ‘er a good shove and see how far she gets.”

“Could give you a good shove. Bet you wouldn’t make it far.”

“I’ll have you know, I have the grace of a, a, er…elk? Are elk graceful?”

Geralt nods and says seriously, “Especially the newborns.”

“There you have it. Graceful as a tiny baby elk with those on my feet, I am.”

“Maybe you should wear them all the time.”

“What good would that…” he starts, and then comes, “Hey. Rude. Remind me why I wanted you here?”

Geralt grins and shrugs. His own mug is on the small table, and he sniffs the steam coming off of it. Floral. He takes a sip. Carefully does not spit it back out. Sets the mug back down farther away.

When he has successfully resisted the urge to spit on the floor to clear out his mouth and looks back up, Jaskier is still holding his own mug gently in the curl of his long fingers, and a lock of rumpled hair has fallen into his eyes. His robe hangs open at his collarbone, down the line of his chest. He wears a strange expression that lies between the exasperation Geralt expected and something startlingly softer.

“So you’ll come with us,” he states.

“Someone has to take your body back to your mother when you break your neck,” Geralt says.

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “You jest, but Mum would be thrilled to see you. Likes you better than me, I think. Her only son! But you’ll come, eh?”

Geralt ducks his head quickly to hide the smile creeping across his face, grabbing his boots and yanking at the laces before acquiescing, “Yeah, I’ll come.”

“There now,” Jaskier says, appeased, “that wasn’t so hard, was it.” He knocks back the dregs of his tea, then stands and pads to the sink, talking on. “You should’ve known I wouldn’t let you stay cooped up in here all winter. I’ll have to see if I can dig out my spare pair of skates, they’re older—animal bone, not iron—but they might be big enough for your witcher feet, and it really works just as well. Or maybe Pris knows someone…I even heard they’re renting the things out down at the river now. Industrious, isn’t it, the ways people come up with to make some coin?…”

Geralt half-listens as he ties neat knots, lost somewhere in the midst of mulling over what Jaskier has described, trying to give it the benefit of the doubt despite its obvious frivolity. Based on the day’s weather it will be a clear night with a brisk breeze, a bright moon. The wind chill will have them each bundled up in furs, and the tip of Jaskier’s nose will go pink as he rubs his gloved hands together for warmth and glances happily over at Geralt. The river ice will be torchlit and smooth as glass, and they’ll strap on their skates and step out onto it. They’ll have a good hold on each others arms, for balance, but then as they gain their footing they’ll find their fingers threaded together and neither will let go. Geralt will listen to the quickened beat of Jaskier’s heart as they pick up the pace, and eventually Jaskier will break their hold to skate backward and taunt Geralt with a small twirl that ends only a little unsteadily. Geralt will smirk and give chase, chuckling when Jaskier squawks and takes off at speed. It’s no use, of course, even with Geralt’s inexperience; Geralt will anticipate his movements, head him off, catch him by the wrist, by the shoulder, and they will collide chest to chest with a huff, the momentum from the chase sliding them a few more feet across the ice before they come to a halt. Their cold noses will almost be touching, there will be frost on the riverbank, there will be a distant owl hooting its nighttime song. Jaskier will quirk his lips and say, “Gotcha, Witcher,” and Geralt will lean in, feel his hot breath, press their lips together—

“Geralt,” Jaskier says, tapping him on the shoulder. A hand waves in front of his face. Geralt keeps his expression carefully neutral as he comes out of his sudden reverie, though he’s been caught red handed. “Are you meditating? We’ve got to be off to the market. Have you even been listening to me?”

“Never,” says Geralt, and Jaskier scoffs and whacks him gently upside the head.

*

The riverbank smells like dead fish.

Geralt knew this. He doesn’t know what he expected. He doesn’t know where the pine-scented idyllic winter wonderland from his earlier distraction even came from, because it couldn’t be farther from reality.

Besides the fish stink, his boots squish and stick unpleasantly in the muddy ground, and the place is teeming with cityfolk, the crowd so thick that you can’t see the opposite bank even despite the abundant torchlight.

“Are you sure it’s frozen solid enough for this?” Geralt asks sourly.

“Of course,” Jaskier replies.

Geralt’s frown deepens. “Couldn’t we go around the bend where there’s not so many people?”

“And where’s the fun in that?”

“Breathing room.”

“I asked about the fun, Geralt. Ah, there’s my girl!”

Priscilla pushes through a group of loitering teenagers and throws her arms around Jaskier’s neck, only her toes left on the mud. “Jask! I see you got your…friend to join us.”

She pauses before friend, eyeing him overtly, but Geralt doesn’t notice because one of the teenagers has been shoved, giggling, into him by another of the group. He steadies her, and does not react when she turns to apologize, catches his unnatural gaze, and stifles her laughter. He doesn’t see Jaskier watching him past Priscilla’s ear, the fond crinkling around his eyes when Geralt gently straightens her and returns her to her place in the circle, which subsequently puts a few feet between itself and the newly-noticed witcher.

“It was either this or die of boredom in the dark, wasn’t it, Geralt?” Jaskier says finally as he releases Priscilla.

“I chose the dark,” Geralt lies, and Jaskier sticks out his tongue.

“Well,” Priscilla says, straightening her skirts, “shall we?”

Geralt pulls both sets of skates from his deep cloak pockets and passes the iron pair to Jaskier, who hops around indelicately while securing them over his boots, rather than plop himself on the soft ground—which is, of course, what Geralt does to put on his own. Priscilla and Jaskier waste a few minutes on a tiff over whether it is polite or belittling for Jaskier to insist on helping her with her own skates whether she wants it or not, but eventually they are all ready to go.

Geralt is the first to the ice. He tests the toe of his bone skate against it, judging the friction of it, deciding if it is likely to hold his weight even with the evidence of the dozens of people currently gliding and spinning past him. It seems stable. Stepping out, he finds it surprisingly easy to get a feel for balance, the minute shifts of weight that send him one direction or the other. He swings himself wide and turns around to see Priscilla and Jaskier also stepping out onto the river, Jaskier clutching tightly to Priscilla’s sleeve, face white and eyes trained on his feet.

“It’s okay, darling, you’ve got this. You made such good progress last time, come on now,” Geralt can hear Priscilla murmuring under the loud chatter of nearby skaters.

When Jaskier sees Geralt watching them, he bodily removes Priscilla’s hands from his person and says, “Please, Pris, I’m a capable man.”

She bristles immediately, leaving him to stand on his own. “And I wasn’t a capable woman when I was putting on my skates?”

Jaskier ignores her to begin shuffling awkwardly across the ice, his knees locked straight.

“Jaskier?” Geralt says apprehensively.

“Doing peachy, thanks, it’ll come back to me, just need to recall how to, um—oh no—” Jaskier starts with a strained voice before he promptly stops, because he has begun to slide inexorably forward. Priscilla and Geralt both reach toward him, but they’re too late; Jaskier’s arms wheel wildly, he tilts on wobbly ankles, and he faceplants onto the ice.

“Ow,” squeaks the Jaskier-shaped lump.

*

“I think your nose is broken,” says Geralt. He dabs at the blood on Jaskier’s top lip with the edge of his own cloak. They are safely back on the bank, and Jaskier is, this time, sitting in the mud. “I guess you were right,” he goes on wryly. “You’re exactly as graceful as a baby elk.”

“I knew you were making fun of me,” Jaskier says thickly, due to the nose injury. “I also knew you’d be a natural. Bastard. I could never get the hang of this stupid bullshit.”

Geralt hums and wipes off the last of the blood. At least it’s clotted quickly. Maybe it’s not a break.

“You didn’t need to lie about your abilities. Who are you trying to impress?”

Jaskier snorts, then winces in pain. His fingers twist in his lap. “Oh, that’s funny.”

Now, Geralt is often joking, but he’s fairly certain that that wasn’t one. Did Jaskier also hit his head? He pushes back Jaskier’s fringe to check his forehead for signs of bruising and doesn’t find any. “Um,” he says, “what is?”

Priscilla skates past holding hands with a woman that Geralt thinks she met approximately three minutes ago. She calls, “All right, Jask?” and in reply, Jaskier gives her a bitter thumbs up. She winks and swoops away as quickly as she came.

“Because I was trying to impress you, obviously,” he answers, gazing after her, before he turns his eyes back to Geralt.

Geralt pauses. “Why?”

“Because I’m actually always trying to impress you. And everyone else, constantly, but…mostly you.”

“You don’t do a very good job of it,” he says, and regrets it when he hears how it sounds coming out of his mouth.

Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine, if a little wistful, like Geralt has amused but not surprised him. “I am well aware, thanks.”

He reaches for the words that will take that edge of resignation off Jaskier’s face, feeling like a fumbling fool. “That’s not what I meant. I meant you don’t need to try to impress me.”

“Yes, I know it doesn’t matter, but I can’t help—”

“No,” Geralt interrupts, “I mean you don’t need to try because you do.” He clears his throat. “Impress me.”

“Oh,” says Jaskier, and then nothing more. “That’s. Okay.”

“Yeah,” says Geralt. He has never been so exposed in his life. He thinks that’s probably a bad thing. “How’s your nose? We could try again, if you want.”

Jaskier looks around at the laughing crowds and shrugs. “Came all this way, got all bundled up. Might as well! I’m sticking with you this time, though.”

They find a spot at the farthest reach of the torchlight where the ice is less populated to step out. Geralt goes first, as before, and finds his footing even faster this time. He returns to Jaskier’s side after a moment of testing the reliability of his newfound skills, and presents his forearm as a handhold.  Jaskier does not protest about his capability this time and takes the offering. With a long preparatory exhale, he puts one foot and then the other onto the ice.

“I’ve got you,” Geralt says quietly.

Jaskier replies, “I know you do.”

“Can’t let more harm come to the money maker. I’ve gotten used to staying in inns.”

“Good gods,” says Jaskier, “I’ve broken him.”

They gradually move farther from the bank. “Loosen up,” Geralt tells him. “Don’t lock your knees. It’s like you’re trying to fall over.”

Jaskier grumbles but takes the advice, and eventually he gains the confidence to move a little faster, though not to stop hanging on to Geralt. They stay on the fringes where they are less likely to be run into by a distracted stranger, gliding along at pace, with Jaskier remarking on the who’s-who of Oxenfurt society who are also out tonight. Geralt recognizes some of the more powerful names, but mostly he lets Jaskier chatter on so he doesn’t think too hard about his feet.

Priscilla passes by and greets them a few more times with her new companion, who at one point proclaims, “You two are so cute together!” before Priscilla drags her back into the mob. Geralt glances over and thinks Jaskier might be blushing, but that might also be due to the swelling around his nose.

“Should ice your face,” says Geralt.

“Sure, later. Hey!” He swings around to face Geralt, stopping their progress. “Spin me!” At Geralt’s no doubt dubious expression, he pouts. “Geralt, I demand to be spun. It’ll be fun!”

“Fine,” Geralt sighs.

He takes Jaskier’s hand, and has a flash of his daydream. There’s too many people, and it does still smell like fish, but this isn’t too far off—

He collects himself, holds their joined hands over Jaskier’s head, and gives him a little push to start him spinning, not too quick, but Jaskier takes it upon himself to propel himself a little faster. Jaskier laughs and maintains his balance remarkably well, until he exclaims “Oops—dizzy—!” and topples directly into Geralt, succeeding in knocking them both down, Geralt on his own back, Jaskier flat on his chest.

Geralt, trapped between the frigid ice and Jaskier’s weight, looks up as Jaskier starts to laugh. The steam of his breath hits Geralt’s cheek, and his knitted hat has gone askew, and his nose is turning purple, and Geralt puts his hand around the back of Jaskier’s neck and pulls him down and kisses him.

Jaskier leans away. “What?” he asks, eyes wide, then continues, “oh, who cares,” and leans back down.

*

Later, with an ice pack pressed to Jaskier’s face and two more hot mugs at the kitchen table, Geralt watches Jaskier rummage through his cupboards. He comes back with two packets, one matching the floral tea from earlier and a different one. He hands the latter to Geralt.

“Black tea,” he says, “for you. Noticed you didn’t like my herbal stuff. I don’t either, to be honest, but I already spent the coin on it.”

“Thanks,” Geralt replies, oddly touched.

As Jaskier passes Geralt to take his seat, he leans down and pecks him on the cheek. Smiling faintly beneath the ice pack, he says, “You know, Witcher, I’m glad you’re here and not up in some weird lonely castle,” and Geralt finds that he is, too.