#like almost killing himself just to help him and amber. drugging him at that one conference from s6

[lovehours]

i don’t even fucking care

[mandoalorian]

Hey Rach my love, could I request something soft with Javi P and gender neutral reader please.

Something where they're just relaxing in bed in each others presence. And Javi thinking how unbelievably lucky he is.

Love you loads x

Peace [Javier Peña x gn!Reader]

Rating: Teen

Word count: 1000 approx.

Warnings: Narcos-related themes so soft mentions of drug-use, war and violence. Mild sexual themes.

Notes: Love you so much Meg, my number one supporter<3 This isn't appearing in tags so please reblog to help spread it around and support my work<3

MASTERLIST

How did this happen? Javier adjusted himself, turning onto his side and watching you sleep next to him peacefully. With every breath, your chest would rise and fall, and tiny little snores escaped your lips, signifying you were in deep sleep.

Javier had been to war-- he'd killed people and watched his friends be killed. He'd seen first-hand how drugs took the lives of innocents, women and children. He'd chased and been chased. He'd thrown punches and been punched. He'd been through it all and yet he never imagined that, amidst this real-life nightmare, he'd have the privilege of meeting you.

He remembered the day so vividly. What was originally an office day had turned into a day of chasing a Cartel lead and had ended in a shanty bar east of the small village in South America where he'd been staying. He spotted you sitting underneath the cheap amber lights, nursing a whiskey, slumped alone on a bar stool, staring into the almost empty glass. It was a vision he'd never forget. You weren't local, but instead, visiting the area on an expedition for work.

Javier never usually had any trouble with approaching attractive individuals such as yourself, but with you, he hesitated. He didn't want to hit on you or plan on taking out any of his sexual frustrations with you. But he was a gentleman and he would offer to buy you a drink.

"Rough day?" Javi asked you, his smooth-as-silk voice breaking your stare with the whiskey glass.

"Rough day." you confirmed with a huff, offering the man a weak smile.

"Hm," Javier hummed. "Can I fill you up?"

You almost choked on your own tongue. "Excuse me?"

Javier barked out a laugh at your reaction, realising his words could have been easily misinterpreted considering the circumstances.

"Your glass," Javier laughed. "Can I buy you a drink?"

You never usually felt inclined to accept drink offers from strange men but Javier seemed different. You weren't the naive type either. You could trust your instinct therefore you could trust him. You accepted the Agent's offer and watched him as he turned away and headed to a free space void of crowds at the bar. He seemed like a natural, getting the bar maids attention immediately.

The day you met Javier he was wearing tight denim jeans and a pale yellow button-down. Clipped to his belt was an officer badge with the word 'DEA' engraved into it. You later accused Javier of wearing the emblem to impress you, but he still remained adamant that he'd simply forgotten to take it off.

You and the agent bonded quickly and hit it off so well. Javier had never connected with anyone the way he connected with you, not even his ex-fiancee, Lorraine. You were different.

You interrupted Javier out of his thoughts, calling out his name tiredly as you rubbed your sleepy eyes.

"Oh, hey honey," Javier said, placing a chaste kiss atop your forehead. His moustache tickled against your skin.

"What time is it?"

"Just past three," Javier replied, leaning over you to check the alarm clock on your bedside.

"Oh my God," you dramatically pulled your pillow out from under your head and put it over your face. "Why are you awake?"

"Was just thinking about how lucky I am to have met you," Javier answered truthfully. You let out a groan and Javi walked you playfully before pulling the pillow away from you so he could see your beautiful face once more.

"Really?"

"Yes, really," he imitated. "I love you so much."

You wanted to bite back with something snarky but you were simply too sweet on your boyfriend to do that. Sighing in defeat, you cuddled up next to him and buried your head into the warmth of his chest.

"I love you too."

[tonibeltran]

Antonio tends to avoid hospitals, for the most part. He’s in them enough in his nightmares — often reliving the night of the crash, or the six long months he’d spent in one with his mother. They make him feel out of sorts, like his feet aren’t really touching the ground as he walks, and were it up to him, he’d never step in one again for the rest of his life. Has even joked once or twice about it to Izzy — if I’m ever about to die, just let it happen. Don’t let an ambulance take me. She’s never found it funny — mostly because she’s always been able to see right through him — but that hasn’t stopped him from making the joke again and again and again, until maybe a part of her might consider it, were it ever to become some sort of reality.

This is the only place in this god forsaken town, however, where he’s able to get a full blood panel — something that is, apparently, necessary for his continued contract employment with Island Records. He’ll be surprised if his blood isn’t mostly alcohol by now, more thin amber than thick red, but then again, an alcoholic ex-rockstar isn’t exactly out of the norm in the industry. Andy had assured him it was mostly procedure — needed, for their records. Antonio had delayed and delayed and delayed, until he couldn’t get away with a trip to a clinic in Chicago anymore and had to come here, instead. 

A mess of his own making, as usual.

He steps inside the elevator when it opens, happy that the excursion is over, ignoring the other person inside altogether. He’d had to forgo the alcohol and the drugs for this, so his system is reacting the way it would to even the slightest breeze outside: with anxiety and panic, like it’s in survival mode. The only way he’s kept himself from having a full-blown anxiety attack has been through the constant repetition of chord progressions of old Amethyst songs, something he tends to avoid when he’s inebriated. E minor, D sharp—

Almost like he’s talked his bad luck into existence, the elevator suddenly screeches to a halt, leaving both him and the other person stranded somewhere between floor four and five. The intercom is blasting an automated message (or perhaps it’s at a normal volume, Antonio can’t tell the difference right now) about remaining calm and help being on the way, and then the fucking elevator music starts again like it’s mocking his very existence.

Nothing is worse, however, than realizing the person who’s speaking to him now is none other than Nilay Bailey, current girlfriend of Elijah Falvey, and mother of his child. Because of course it is. He can’t help the hysterical laugh that bubbles out of him at the sight of the woman, who says something he doesn’t quite catch. The ringing in his ears is getting louder, somehow, the pounding in his chest is starting to hurt, a prickling sensation traveling down his left arm and back up. He thinks his vision is failing him, but that just might be the tears welling up in his eyes.

He knows what this is. It’s what he’s been trying to avoid, since walking into this fucking building. And of course it’s happening now, in front of someone he’s also been avoiding since stepping foot into this fucking town. He leans against the elevator wall and slides down onto the floor, bringing his knees to his chest and his face to his trembling hands. E minor, D sharp, B minor, G major—

Maybe if he hyperventilates for long enough, Nilay Bailey will cease to exist next to him. Maybe this is just another one of his nightmares, and he’s not here at all. Maybe he should have shown up here drunk and high anyway, and bribed some poor, unsuspecting nurse to fake his test results. A part of him is almost hoping the anxiety attack is actually a heart attack and just kills him, since it’d make it easier to face whatever hell he’s going to walk out into after this. A fantastic way to show weakness, to the man he’d been able to show a calculated callousness after seeing him again for the first time in years. Now he’s breaking down in front of the mother of his child, for completely unrelated reasons, though he’s sure her presence isn’t exactly helping the issue. 

E minor, D sharp — deep breath in, shaky breath out — B minor, G major — Moon’s fur in his hands, Roman’s smile at his jokes — B suspended, A — Izzy’s arms around him, his mom’s favorite recipe—

Antonio’s vision is starting to come back, which means the tears have started flowing. Better that way. They’ve healing properties, tears. And he thinks he’s starting to feel embarrassed, which is a good sign — that there’s room to feel anything other than panicked, that is. Not so much embarrassing himself. 

📜𝙽𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚢 & 𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚘 𝙱𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗

After fainting at the museum again, her boss had set their foot down and demanded that she goes to the hospital before taking the rest of the week off to rest. It was annoying, frankly, but her boss wouldn't budge when she tried to argue with her on it. Well... She supposes that this could give her the time to be with her girls and the cats more. And if she felt restless, she could work on getting her next video ready. So as she got into the elevator that would lead her to the floor her doctor was in, she grabbed one of the books she'd been reading for a video she was planning on making from her bag, along with a highlighter and pen. She got to reading, her book covering her face. The elevator had stopped, letting another person in that she nodded at yet didn't look to see who it was, before taking off again.

Unfortunately, the elevator stopped abruptly. Nilay steadying herself against the wall she'd been leaning against, finally looking up with furrowed brows. "Ma koreh?" she asked softly. The anthropologist turned to look at her companion, her lips parting to ask if they knew what was happening, when her entire being froze. Her blood running cold and her heart all but stopping at the sight of Antonio Beltran. "Please, remain calm," a robotic voice over the intercom said. "Help will be with you shortly." And then, the elevator music began to play again. She nodded, looking away from him and at the doors. Well... Suppose this was going to happen, eventually, one way or another. "So..." Clearing her throat, she tried to think: how do you talk to one of the people your partner greatly hurt years ago yet isn't taking the responsibility to make amends? Especially when her last conversation with Roman had gone so smoothly. "If you had to choose a song to replace the elevator music, what would you choose?" It wasn't good, but dammit, she didn't want to stand there in silence until... whenever this situation is fixed.

𓂀 𝚠𝚑𝚘: @tonibeltran

𓂀 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎: 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕 ; 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚕 𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚎

𓂀 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗: 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟿𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺

[tsunderedoctor]

Some shitty fem!Law headcanons I have and I'm using my phone so bear with me.

He uses he/him pronouns and feels more comfortable in sports bras/binders to help with his body transition.

He could hypothetically use his devil fruit to change his body, but doesn't want to waste such power on himself. He would rather use his strength on enemies or important emergencies. He knows who he is and that's all that matters.

Prefers to be around women then men, but still identifies as demisexual, just takes the right man to woo him.

Was definitely a womanizer in his late teens/early 20s. Did some drugs too to help cope with the PTSD and nightmares that kept him up. Did everything to help his physical pleasure and not worry about his mental needs.

Still wants to roam the world with his crew. If the right person shows up, they have to understand his place and be one with his crew.

Takes contraception and birth control to help with periods and his more dangerous sexual life. He's better now, but doesn't take any risk.

Keeps his hair short and wears baggy clothes to help people not see him as a female. Most mistake him for a man and he corrects them if they call him miss.

Likes the idea of kids, but doesn't want his own. My headcanon is Amber Lead is a genetic disease based on the mother's genes and passed to the child, and Law doesn't want to risk giving his child a disease that would kill them almost instantly.

[samstree]

For the reverse trope ask: the soft character comforting the tough character after a trauma

Piece Him Back Together

Part of the reverse trope series.

When Geralt gets kidnapped, it's up to Jaskier to rescue him. Some truths about a witcher's worst weakness come to light.

(geraskier, 2.1k, hurt/comfort, geralt whump, mutual pining, competent jaskier, love confession, mild blood)

read on AO3

"Shit, shit, shit..."

Jaskier lets out a string of curses all the while balancing the weight of two fully grown men with stumbling footwork. He desperately tries to keep Geralt up with a hand on the small of his back but fails to stop the injured witcher from drooping with each step, until, at last, both of them wind up in a heap of limbs by the road.

Geralt lets out a pained grunt and Jaskier scrambles with apologies.

“Fuck, sorry.” The bard shifts Geralt’s bulk with all he can muster and finally settles him on a patch of soft moss under the tree. The witcher hisses as his back hits the bark rather heavily. “Shit, I’m so sorr—”

“You already said,” Geralt interrupts him but there’s no anger in his tone.

“Still. I am.”

Jaskier retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket and begins to dab at the mess of blood at Geralt’s temple, wincing when he finally sees how bad the blow is. Blood oozes from the gash, slower than a moment before. The fabric is soaked through and the skin there is still tender.

It’s all witchers’ weakness.

The temple. A blow to the head.

It messes up all their senses and coordination, leaving them in the most vulnerable state. If Jaskier had reached him any later, this might have done Geralt in.

Jaskier lets out a distressed sound at the thought.

“Stop fussing. We need to go.” The witcher, against all odds, remains level-headed.

“No, it’s all right. I knocked out all the guards and servants, along with the duke and his mage.” Jaskier tilts Geralt’s head for a better angle to press the handkerchief down on the wound. “I may have given the two of them a little more than the recommended dose. The lady at the apothecary warned me about the risk of choking with much sleeping potion, urgh, like I give an ounce of fuck if they die a gruesome death or not. It’d be a favor to the town.”

The venom surprises even Jaskier himself, and Geralt lets out a meaningful hum.

“Rest assured, my dear. No one will be looking for us today.”

Up close, Jaskier can feel Geralt scrutinize him intently as if to burn a hole into his face. He meets the amber gaze, the dark pupils still a little blown wide from the shock, but there’s also something akin to relief flowing in those beautiful eyes.

He revels in the silence, observing Geralt in return for further signs of hurt, but finds none.

The witcher relents first, the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “So you drugged an entire castle?”

“Didn’t think I had it in me, huh?” Jaskier teases. “The White Wolf, saved by a humble bard and forever impressed by his wit.”

“Hmm.”

“Well, don’t beat yourself up, oh mighty witcher. I’m sure you only needed the rescue because those villains took advantage of your only weakness.” The bard adds his usual dramatic flair into the last two words.

Geralt blinks. Something shifts in his expression, his breathing picking up and his eyes darting everywhere. If the bard didn’t know better, he’d say the witcher is flustered, which makes it all the more confusing.

“Mocking me, are you?” Geralt drops his gaze and tries to shy away, but the bard holds him in place with the other hand. Under Jaskier’s palm, the frame of the witcher’s ear is heating up.

“How am I mocking you? Geralt, even you must admit witchers aren’t all-powerful beings.” Jaskier frowns. “They messed up your head. I know all your senses get muddled when you’re like this. Seriously, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What are you talking about?” the witcher snaps his gaze back to Jaskier, a puzzled crease deep between his brows, which only makes the bard scoff with amusement.

“The head wound, of course. How did they get you? An ambush and a blow to the head, I’m assuming.” Jaskier explains. “How else did you get yourself into a dungeon and dimeritium cuffs? What, are you telling me you walk into their trap voluntarily?”

He rolls his eyes at the offhanded joke but the silence from the witcher leaves the mood heavier. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like a denial of what he just said. Geralt is staring at him with an inexplicable look on his face, and these looks are hard to come by these days. Jaskier prides himself in being the best on the continent at reading his witcher, and he has no inclination to break the streak.

“What happened then? Talk to me, Geralt.”

Jaskier removes the handkerchief a little. The gash has stopped bleeding, so he ties it around Geralt’s head carefully to keep the wound shielded, at least until they can wash it properly. His hands stay with Geralt afterwards, waiting for him to open up.

“I—” Geralt purses his lips before continuing, golden eyes meeting the bard in earnest. “They didn’t ambush me, Jask. I walked into that castle unarmed by choice.”

“What?” Jaskier’s jaw drops.

“It’s because—” the witcher scowls. “Because I thought…that they had you.”

It’s like a lightning strike, where their skin connects tingling all the way from the tips of Jaskier’s fingers to a warm pool of fuzziness in his stomach. The air is suddenly too hot so Jaskier decides to put more space between them.

“Oh.”

Geralt chases him ever so slightly before settling back with resignation, his eyes still bare and vulnerable, as if he just revealed the darkest secret when it is only the sweetest thing in a horrible, horrible way.

“A whisper of you being held hostage and suddenly I couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember to check the truth. Couldn’t waste another second.” Geralt hovers a hand near the bard’s face before retreating to his side. “You were right that they got me because of my one weakness, Jaskier. Just not the one you assumed.”

The pounding in Jaskier’s chest is jumping out of his throat. He’s sure he will die within the next minute if he doesn’t speak to ease this ache in his heart.

“Oh.”

He ends up saying dumbly.

“It was too late when I noticed the absence of you. Your voice, your heartbeat, your scent. Nothing. You weren’t in that castle or the cells. All I could hear was silence and all I could smell was blood.” Geralt draws a shuddering breath. “I hoped, when they kept me in the dark, that they were lying about ever having you. That you were nowhere near that damn place instead of—”

The witcher swallows, unable to finish the sentence.

“Instead of,” Jaskier adds for him, “they’d already killed me.”

The tension hangs between them. The bard sits back on the heels of his feet and finds himself at a loss for words for the very first time in his life.

Geralt might be the only person who can force Jaskier through so many firsts in his life. His first time writing a hit song, first time smashing into someone’s face with a lute, first time saving a witcher’s life, and perhaps, first time murdering two evil overlords obsessed with collecting witchers for experiments.

Hmm, it’s not like Jaskier regrets any of these.

Geralt reaches out again, tentative and patient like he’s approaching a spooked horse. This time, Jaskier takes pity and meets him halfway, his thumb rubbing small circles at the sword callouses that he adores so much.

“Say something,” Geralt pleads.

Jaskier swallows a lump in his throat and sniffles to ease the congestion in his nose, his vision blurring in desperation.

“It’s the most words you’ve said in one sitting, Geralt. You’ll have to allow me a moment to figure out what you are saying and, most importantly, not saying.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “It’s you, you know? There’s always something you are holding back and that is often the crux of it. I thought I got good at reading between the lines, but this is…overwhelming.”

With the enhanced healing kicking in, Geralt is looking much better by the minute. The blood dries and crusts over and his eyes almost shining in the daylight, or is it just the emotions within them? Jaskier can’t tell.

“Maybe I can help you. With the hidden words.” Geralt squeezes Jaskier’s fingers reassuringly. He tilts his head in the most endearing way. It happens to be that particular head tilt that Jaskier treasures with his life, the one that manages to always take his breath away.

“I love you, Jask.”

The warm pool of fuzziness in Jaskier’s stomach turns into a bottomless pit, and he’s falling.

And soaring.

“I love you.” Geralt smiles sadly. “In the dark of that cell, it became…ever so clear and so loud that I couldn’t deny it anymore. I love you, in spite of myself. Gods, I’ve loved you for so long.”

Geralt picks up Jaskier’s hand and places the barest touch of a kiss there, his lips chapped but oh so gentle. Jaskier lets out a soft gasp and the tears roll down uncontrollably. The next thing he knows, he’s buried deep in Geralt’s embrace. The sobs choke in his lungs like a dam has been broken.

“I—” Jaskier is amazed to find that their roles have reversed. The witcher has expressed everything but the bard becomes mute. So he takes up Geralt’s role gladly and replies with actions.

Jaskier’s lips are pressed everywhere he can reach: the soft, warm skin of Geralt’s neck, the sharp of his jaw, his cheek, the tip of his nose. He disregards the grime and dirt and kisses Geralt’s uninjured temple, the single most fragile part of a witcher’s body—barring their heart, so it seems. He tucks away a strand of white hair and kisses Geralt’s temple one more time, tasting the salty tang of tears.

When he pulls back, Geralt’s smile is blinding.

He hears Jaskier, even though—

“I still don’t know what to say,” Jaskier croaks, sniffling hard.

The bard rests his hands at the nape of Geralt’s neck and loses himself in the sunlit golden honey, his favorite color in the world and the most beautiful dream that’s ever come true.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Geralt wipes away the wetness on Jaskier’s face with the pad of his thumb. “Master Jaskier, poet, minstrel, professor… Stumped for words and forever impressed by a witcher’s love confession.”

He mimics Jaskier’s phrasing and the bard can’t help but chuckle despite the tears and snout, his hand swatting at Geralt’s shoulder. Jaskier knows he must look so absurd, laughing and crying all at once, but it’s the last thing in the world that matters.

Geralt loves him, and—

“You got hurt because of me.”

The remorse licks up, along with the urge to protect and to care. The sight of Geralt limp and bloody, bound by the wrists in a dark cell is something Jaskier never wants to relive again.

“I don’t care, Jask.”

“I care.”

“Then make it better.”

So he does. Geralt never wavers as Jaskier captures his lips and pours everything he cannot voice into the kiss, drawing a contented moan out of the witcher.

“Does it still hurt?” the bard whispers between one breath and the next.

“A little.”

Jaskier resumes his work and cards deft fingers through silver hair, careful not to nudge the handkerchief. His nails ghost over Geralt’s scalp and scratches gently until a purring sound rumbles deep in the witcher’s chest. The bard giggles proudly.

“Now?”

“Keep going.”

Geralt traps Jaskier between his strong arms devours him with passion, the heat of his body solid and calming.

Jaskier has never thought of himself as a protector, except at this moment with his witcher arching into his every touch and producing those heavenly sounds. The world is too bent on hurting Geralt, too eager to take and take and take from him.

A bard is not a fighter. Jaskier cannot stop monsters from tearing through armors or crossbows fired with ill intent.

But a bard is a lover. What Jaskier can do is heal, is piece Geralt back together with gentle words in the dark and soft lips on the thin skin at his temple.

“How about now?”

They are panting in tandem, the gold of Geralt’s eyes dreamy and out of this world.

“Still dizzy.”

“That’s from all the kissing, you oaf.”

But Geralt begs wordlessly with those wide, puppy-like eyes so openly, and Jaskier’s already non-existent resolve breaks into a million pieces. He kisses Geralt until the witcher melts into a puddle of purring mess, sun-warmed and pliant.

And he kisses Geralt more.

Again and again.

---

Thanks for the prompt. I kind of just rolled with the concept. The twist looks a bit obvious from the beginning, but feel free to tell me what you think. <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @dapandapod @artisanbaguette @birdsflyhome

Please tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Attack Of The Winter Wolf: Revealed

Summary- 7.7k Alpha Steve x Little One Reader. Steve and you pack up in the Stark Jet and head across the ocean, this time to Norway. Steve seems to think that there will be the answers needed to help your friends for good. Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Warnings- None

A/N- Those that have stuck with me through this, thank you. I hope this isn’t turning into a “what the hell are you trying to do Amber” kind of deal. Haha. I don’t have any real answers, its just whats coming out. Anyways, thank you for reading, as always its so appreciated to hear what your thoughts are on it. Happy Howling 🐺💙

Chapter Three / Masterlist

It was a rush the following morning, Steve and Tony were busy checking over the jet being loaned for the mission. Meanwhile Pepper showed you around the giant Stark Towers. The last time you had been here you were unconscious, not remembering any of it. Pepper’s heels clicking against linoleum, while you rushed after the fast paced Alpha who was doing two tasks at once. But once she led you on the elevator, hitting some buttons, she tucked her tablet under her arm, turning her attention to you with a relaxed smile. 

“Dr. Banner has been wanting to officially meet you.” She stated as an explanation for the elevator ride. Twiddling your fingers, you shuffled foot to foot a bit nervous, only knowing the doctor had been where Steve rushed you to first when Pierce injected you. 

When the elevator door dinged and the two of you stepped out to what looked like a medical wing. A dark haired man stepped out while flipping through a chart muttering to himself when Pepper cleared her throat. “Bruce, you have a visitor.” His head lifted, blinking at them from over his glasses frames, confused as to who would want to intrude on him. But then recognition crossed his features and he snapped his clipboard shut, striding over. 

“Y/N! Pepper told me Steve was coming back this way for help, and I was hoping he would bring you.” His hand popped out to shake yours. You welcomed it with a tilt of your head, drawing in his scent. A part of you recognized him, the hint of warmth and freshness. 

“ Dr.Banner a pleasure… Steve told me what you had done for me, thank you for everything.” 

Bruce sputtered a bit, giving a shrug. “Ahh, I wasn’t able to do much, just send you along to someone better able to handle what happened to you. Umm, do you have a few minutes? I just really would like to ask you a few questions about your experience. If you are okay with that of course.” He added almost shyly and you smiled reassuringly. 

“I have no problem with that Dr.Banner.” 

“Bruce please.” Bruce looked expectantly at Pepper who checked her watch and nodded. 

“We got time, Tony will have Friday call for us when the jet is ready.” Bruce immediately turned on his heels and led the two of you towards his office. 

Steve went through the jet, checking all the gear stashed on board as well as settling in the controls chair to make sure he was familiar with everything before leaving Stark towers. Tony plopped in the one next to him, making the Alpha in Steve rumble at the intrusion but Steve was able to placate him. 

“So off to Norway huh?” Tony leaned forward to enter the coordinates in the dash for the autopilot. “What's in Norway that can help you with everything?” 

Steve growled as he continued going over the controls. “You saw the file Fury sent along Stark. You know exactly who is there.” 

“Okay you got me.” Tony finished what he was doing and turned the chair to face Steve. “I also know he's basically a recluse now and the chance of you getting him to talk is almost nada, zip, zilch. What makes you think he's gonna spill what you need.” 

“I have my ways…” Steve said coldly, his wolf growling softly at the other Alpha in his space. 

Tony gave a mock shiver. “Alright alright… just be careful okay? I know we're not on the best terms Steve but I do have a lot of respect for what you are trying to do.” 

Steve arched a brow and shook his head. “We’re not enemies Tony, I don’t happen to agree or appreciate that stunt you pulled with Ross. But I think now my stance on that shit is known. We can disagree and still be fine.” Tony next to him brushed it off while continuing with the switches, making his own adjustments to the system. 

“I know Steve, it was still a shitty move on my part, bringing Ross into your home, where your mate was after everything that happened. But she certainly put me in my place.” He laughed, recalling how you kicked all of them out.

Steve glanced at Tony from the corner of his eye and rumbled out a “Thank you Stark, Y/N certainly isn't taking anyone's shit, not anymore.” Tony snorted in agreement to that statement. 

“I don’t think they ever do, Pepper is the same damn way.” 

Steve laughed in return, knowing full well that everything Tony said was accurate about Pepper Potts, Tony had chosen well for himself in Steve’s opinion. For all the tension between Steve and Tony, he respected the Alpha next to him, and knew that finding his packmates was just as important to Tony as it was to Steve. Not to mention finding those responsible for Happy’s murder. Steve turned his chair to face the other Alpha. “I’m sorry about what happened to Happy Tony. I know it’s hard to have lost someone who was family to you.” 

Tony blinked at him, warring with his own feelings about everything that happened. Losing Happy so brutally had taken a toll on Tony, finding the body having been dumped just outside of his territory, he still hadn’t been able to fully come to terms with it. “Thank you. Finding the bastards who did that has become my main priority.” Clapping his hands together to end the topic, he moved to a stand. “You Rogers are ready to go, ready to Captain my jet?” 

Steve waited till Tony moved out of his space before moving to follow him off the jet, keeping quiet about the further mention of Tony seeking out Happy’s killer. After seeing what had happened with Bucky and the rest, he already had his own sinking suspicions as to who killed Happy and he knew Tony did as well. 

“More than ready to go.” Steve stated, coming down the steps off the jet. Tony spoke up right then. 

“Friday, let Pepper and Y/N know that Captain Rogers is ready.” That caused Steve to roll his eyes and fold his arms over his chest. 

“Seriously Tony?” 

A smirk flashed, Tony winked at him. “Come on, I think it's a fitting title for you.”

Bruce was furiously writing notes while you described to him what you remembered being under due to the drug Pierce had injected you with when the AI Friday announced that the jet was ready, as well as Captain Rogers. You and Pepper quirk a confused look at one another, and she rolled her eyes with a sigh. “That's gotta be Tony’s doing I'm sure.” 

You nod in agreement, turning back to Bruce. “Looks like it's time for me to go Dr.Banner…” 

“Bruce.” He was quick to interrupt and moved to a stand to shake your hand. “Thank you so much for this.” He tapped his pad of paper where he had all the notes jotted. “I will put them in my file to share with Shuri. All this is incredibly helpful knowing more about the serum used on you.” 

Giving a vigorous shake back, you smiled genuinely at Bruce, you and your Little Wolf feeling quite relaxed with the man. “If I think of anything, I will be sure to send an email.” The Little Wolf flicked her tail in agreement, half listening while she was napping. 

“Oh! Yes please do with anything you might remember, no bit of information is too small.”   

Pepper walked out with you and joined you in the elevator. Reaching the top of Stark Towers, you both were greeted by Steve and Tony, who waited just inside the jet. As soon as you saw Steve, warmth washed over you, feeling that bond between you two hum happily, your wolves sought each other, in the moment they both were teasing each other, making your mood lift from having to leave once more. The genuine pleasure at seeing Steve melded that away, just as his own did, the wolves happiness being together melded with your own. Steve enclosed you in his arms, nuzzling the crown of your head a moment before questioning if you were all set.

“Tony Stark is funding another trip for us? I’m absolutely ready.” You joked as Steve let you go so you could turn to face Tony who scoffed at you. 

“Don’t let Cap here defile my jet please!” Tony was sure to give you his signature hug, that made Steve rumble a bit although you instead laughed and gave a bop of your shoulder. 

“No promises Stark. Pepper, thank you for showing me around your home.” Embracing her in a thank you. 

“Stay safe and bring my jet back quickly, Cap.” Tony pipped up while walking off the jet with Pepper, cackling to himself at the finger Steve threw up while the doors shut you two in. 

The Alpha muttered to himself while dropping into the pilot's seat and you were quick to join him on the opposite side. You buckled in while he flicked on buttons. “Captain Rogers?” you questioned watching him get the jet ready. 

Steve rolled his eyes as he made sure everything was set and handed you a headset while fitting his own on, the jet rumbling to life around you. “Tony thinks he is very slick, giving nicknames. Apparently Cap is his new one for me.” 

You smirked at him, winking as you settled the headset on and spoke into the microphone. “I think Captain Rogers has its benefits, Steve.” 

His hand went around the handle and started to push it forward, edging the jet forward to take off, the spanse of New York City below you. Much like the night before, you marveled at the beauty only a city could offer. “You would Little One.” 

A voice piped up over the channel, Tony coming over the comms. “I think your mate has a point Cap.” 

Steve growled into the comm for a second while you started laughing in the seat next to him. “Tony! Get off this channel.” 

“It's my jet, Rogers! I will listen in if I want.” He was about to continue when Steve took off his headset, setting the jet on autopilot with the coordinates. 

You snickered into the system. “Sorry Tony, Steve is cutting you off. Bye Stark.” You effectively cut Tony off and slipped the head set off, setting it aside while you leaned forward to get a better look out the window, unbuckling in the process. “You know since I have been with you Steve, I have seen things I never thought I would. Look at this.” You directed your gaze at the expanse of the sky before you, baby blue as far as the eye could see, the skyline rushing closer till the two of you crossed over the cities edged, now nothing but the Atlantic underneath you. “Beautiful.” 

Steve settled back to admire what you were looking at, letting some of his worries sink to the back of his mind. “It is… sometimes I forget you haven't seen all this before.” He held out his arm for you to join him, which you pushed from your seat and settled in his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Do you remember much from the last time I showed you?” 

You perch on his knee and look over the dash, worrying your lip. “Mmh barely.” Your eyes roved over the panels while Steve dragged the tip of his nose along the curve of your neck, inhaling against it and letting it settle him further. Both the man and Alpha wanted to enjoy the long flight with you. 

“I guess we will be getting a crash course, Little One.” He rumbled happily while you seated yourself into a more comfortable position in his lap. 

You looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes laughing at his remark and bringing the exact response he wanted. “Really Captain?” 

Tightening his arm around your waist, he nipped at your lips with teasing affection. “Tony isn't the only funny one around here.” 

Steve spent a few hours describing the functions and some of how to fly. Together you both got to watch the sun going down and eventually you started napping in the copilot's seat, even though Steve tried to get you to go lay down in the back. 

These quiet moments, Steve wandered back to his memories, the Alpha in his mind lifting his head from the Little Wolf’s back where he had laid to rest, flicking his ears back and forth a bit at Steve’s thoughts. 

The first thing that came to memory was the stinging scent of smoke.

“Rogers, don't you dare go into that building!” Fury’s voice commanded Steve who stalled in the doorway, peering into Hydras base, nose flaring trying to catch scent of their missing comrades. “You are not commander in this mission.” 

“But Buck and the rest might be in there… I'm going” Steve defied Fury, darting into the darkness and out of sight, Fury's voice echoing behind him. 

“ROGERS! GET YOUR ASS BACK OUT HERE!” 

Steve continued forward, letting his Wolf out enough to sharpen his senses. His eyes picking up the bit of light in the darkened hallways leading deeper into the compound, his eyes glimmer dangerously in the dark looking for any sign of movement. He could sense others nearby, friend or foe though he was unsure. Footsteps silent, Steve once in a while looking behind him tense to make sure no one knew he was there. Glances in rooms showed them abandoned, cleared in a haste to get out before Shield got there Steve was sure. Ahead he heard scuffles and growls, chains clanking and the sound of voices in hushed tones. The Wolf lowered to his belly, quivering in anticipation should Steve allow him to take over. He eased the door open with a creak when relief washed over him. 

There men, most of them in large cages. Familiar scents washed over him and they all perked sensing Steve. 

“Rogers is that you?” Someone muttered while Steve approached, searching for a key anywhere in a nearby desk. 

“Yes, the rest of the troop is just outside. We haven't found anyone though. Where is everyone?” 

“Bolted man, once they heard Fury was coming they grabbed their shit and left. They didn’t have the bodies to defend this place.” Dugan responded as he pushed to the front watching while Steve searched the desk. Steve opened the last drawer, cursing as he pushed aside papers and flung them to the side. Then he was rewarded with a ring full of keys. Rushing over, the two men tried sorting through them, Steve stuffing them one by one in the locks, quick to go to the next till they found another. 

“They left us and their experiments.” Dugan continued filling Steve in while he tried to find the right keys. “Some messed up stuff, they are in the next room I think.”

The Alpha rumbled to catch Steve’s attention. <Bucky isn’t with them.> The mans head whipped up while the lock clicked finally, able to pry it open and release his packmates. 

“Where is Buck?”  

“Bucky… he was brought in there and never came back out.” another said, pointing at the door across the room.

The Alpha rumbled suddenly in an alert and Steve tensed and whipped around when an eerily sharp howl sounded through the building. Dugan pushed the door open, tensing as well. “That's one of them, their experiments.” 

Steve wrangled the keys out of the lock and started to go down the line, unlocking each cage, shifters passing him to get outside. 

“Fury, you have outcoming hostages, they are friendly, don't fire.” Steve spoke into the comm. 

“I hear you Rogers.” Came Fury’s voice in a wave of static. “Any unfriendlies?” 

“No, Dugan notified me they all bailed once they heard we were coming” Steve responded before turning to his friend. “Dugan, get the rest out of here, I’m going to keep looking.” 

His friend bared his teeth at him, bristling at the notion. “You don’t know what's back there Rogers.” 

“If I have to, I will retreat, get these men out of here. I’m not leaving anyone behind.” Steve growled back deeper, the Alpha in him asserting himself and the man backed off with a disgruntled nod. 

Waiting to make sure they were going to leave, Steve approached the door cautiously, using his senses to pick up what might be on the other side, who might be on the other side. He was praying for a miracle, because nothing but death filled his senses as he eyed the door, drawing in any scent left behind. It was all jumbled, multitudes of men and women have passed through the threshhold, making it almost impossible to pinpoint any specific person. “Well… let's see what's on the other side.” Steve shouldered through the door and a lab stretched before him, ominous equipment stretched on either side. A groan came from somewhere ahead and Steve paused till he heard it again. It was so distinct to him that the hair on the back of his neck prickled, the Alphas own fur raising as well along the ridge of his back, it was another Alpha, but this one they knew. 

“Oh thank fucking god.” Steve uttered as he rushed forward to find Bucky strapped down and Steve started pulling at the straps holding him down. Wires were strapped all over Bucky's neck and chest and stretched to attach to some equipment, Steve started yanking them off as well when finally Bucky started to come around. 

“S-Steve?” His eyes sharpened and he clutched at Steve's uniform, worried that he wasn't real. 

“It’s me Buck, we’re getting out of here.” Steve tried assuring him, keeping his voice light and calm even though he was far from that. He had never seen Bucky so scared. Suddenly the howling started again from the back of the room and both men glanced that way. 

“Whoever it is just keeps doing that.” Bucky muttered when a voice crackled in the comms. 

“In-ing” then static sounded in Steve's ear, making him wince as he pressed his hand over his ear. 

“Repeat? What was that Fury?” 

“In-oming! G-t Ou-” The building started to shake and lights started zapping and popping around them. 

“We ca-t hold hi-, Get O-” Fury yelled into the comm but Steve had to rip it out, electricity zapping through it and breaking it up too much. Bucky gripped Steve tighter, his pupils blown in his panic. 

“What the fuck is it now?!” 

“I don't know… but we gotta get out of here.” Bucky started pulling Steve towards the exit, but whatever was in the back rattled its cage with a savage snarl, and Steve couldn’t leave who ever or what ever it was behind. He stuttered to a stop, Bucky pausing at the door with a shake of his head. 

“Man, we got to go… there isn't enough time.” 

Steve’s hands dropped to his pants and felt madly for the keys he had stuffed in his pocket earlier. “We can’t leave him in there Buck.” He waved his hand. “Go, I got this.” 

Bucky cursed but held tight, refusing to leave Steve behind.  

Steve raced towards the cage to free whatever was inside, shoving the key he used before into the lock and it clicked to open. Glowering green eyes blinked at him from the shadowed part of the cage, but he couldn't make anything else out in the seconds he got the door open. Bucky was screaming his name and when he managed to get the door to swing wide, a bundle of black sprang on his chest, bared white fangs yawning open going for Steve’s throat….

“Steve- Steve?” Your voice cut through and he shook his head a bit to clear it before looking at you. 

“Sorry, I thought you were sleeping Little One.” 

“I was, but the computer started beeping on the dash.” You pointed to a blinking light and Steve leaned forward to check the system, smiling. 

“We're here and just in time to. Look” He pointed out the window at the faint purple in the skyline, the sun easing up beyond the cloud cover to turn a brilliant red and orange of dawn. When Steve took over, he started to drop the jet down. Below the clouds the land turned a deep almost emerald wild green shimmering with mist stretching like tendrils to a spiderweb over the land, still in the early morning phase of waking up. 

You weren't lying earlier when you said you saw things you had never expected. From the rainforest and safari of Wakanda to the lush greenery of Norway, you soaked it all in with awe. So long spent locked away in a room, gazing with longing at the upper windows that offered nothing more than peeks of the sky. Now you soared over the world with your Mate. Even the Little Wolf was in awe, slithering away from where the Alpha was half sleeping and prancing excitedly with joy at the adventure. The Alpha stretched out, arching his back and padded heavily after her, nuzzling her affectionately while her tail waved back and forth, unable to stay still in her excitement. 

“The Little Wolf is excited.” You told Steve and he winked at you. 

“I can feel it. What do you say we take her down?” 

Steve easily maneuvered the Stark Jet down to land in a wide open field bordering the ocean. You followed him towards the doors swinging open and already wolves appeared from the long grass with tilted heads checking out the newcomers. You sidled up to Steve’s side a moment, watching the wolves dart back out of sight in the tall grass and heard their howls break the silence, announcing their arrival. It was a welcome sound, you couldn't detect any hostility in the notes. But their songs were so different. Sounded much older, almost like a language all its own. 

Steve cupped his hand and gave a sharp “We’re here” yip, that was answered resoundingly from all around you, the pack having circled you two and remained just out of sight. His arm lowered around your shoulders and you held your breath, unsure of what to expect. A bellow came, joyful and loud as a tall blonde man, even taller than Steve stepped out, his arms opened wide in greeting. 

“Why what a surprise! Are you here for the Asgard hospitality? I didn't think anything would ever get you to leave your corner in the world.” The over sized man strode towards them rather quickly, and the closer he came the more your eyes widened. You didn't think you had seen anyone who was as bigger then Steve in stature. He clasped Steve's shoulder and directed his joyful gaze down at you. “And who is this lovely maiden you bring with you?” 

“If I could be there, trust me I would. This is my mate, Y/N. Y/N, this is Thor, the Alpha here.” Steve protectively wrapped an arm around you, even though you wore his mark for Thor to see, Alphas always had a bit of tension between them no matter how much their human counterparts tried to quell it. 

Thor though seemed unaware of such a vibe as he beamed down at you warmly. “Well Little Pup, welcome to Asgard.” He took your hand in a vigorous pump and you couldn't help but warm right up to him and his exuberant nature. “We run free and feast like we are in the halls of the Old Kings here.” He swept the both of you down the path and all around his wolves started to howl and dance in a joyful manner, playing among each other much like they were participating in the Full Moon Run. “Now Rogers does tell me what has been going on across the water? It's been a while since I've visited there.” 

“Afraid we have been having some issues.” Steve started, filling Thor in on the recent attacks, taking apart the packs and capturing the Alpha’s. The viciousness in the attacks and the destruction left behind. Thor listened patiently until Steve mentioned Hydra. That's when he paused, you and Steve having taken a few steps ahead but noticed he wasn't with you. You turned to see him glowering. 

“That's why you are here, Rogers, isn't it? Because of Hydra. He wont talk to you about it you know.” 

Steve sighed and you had a sinking feeling about the situation, not fully understanding what was going on. 

“I have to try Thor, your brother was the only one who was able to break from the collars power and the mind shit Hydra does to their victims.” 

“He barely interacts with any of us Steve, he mostly stays as his animal out there.” Thor retorted, the sky started to darken slightly and you frowned to yourself at the sudden change in atmosphere while glancing up. 

Steve sighed, letting his arms hang loose at his sides to show Thor he was no threat to him. “I know Odinson, trust me. I wouldn’t be here if there was any other way. Packs, families are all being killed off, Alphas removed. How long till you think it will be till it comes over here?” Steve pointed out and Thor’s face twisted and he looked away. 

“It won’t be like before, I won’t let it.” 

“You don't know that… Shield risked sending the Howling Commando’s over here to help your people, now I’m asking for your help. Just let me try talking to him?” 

Your heart twisted as you saw Thor try to control his emotions on his face and you reached out to touch his arm, Steve for once kept quiet, inhaling deeply to keep himself in check. “Hydra really hurt him, didn't they? If it's too much we will just leave. Right Steve?” 

“If you tell me absolutely not Thor, she’s right. We will leave right now and not bother you again.” 

Thor glanced back at you, his eyes searching yours and you could see everything he was doing was about protecting this person. You bit at your lip nervously, you knew you were invading this Alpha’s space but stepped in closer anyways. “Please let us try? We just want to save those we still have left. Our packmates are fighting a losing battle with Hydra, we don't want to lose them.” 

A sigh escaped the man and he glanced over your head to Steve. “You're lucky you have her you know… she’s softened me. Slightly.” You stepped back towards Steve, who now laid his hand around your waist, chuckling softly. 

“You really don’t know half of it, she has a gift.” You wriggled in his hold a bit but he just tightened his fingers against you. “Thank you Thor for letting us try.” 

He shrugged at you both with a shake of his head. “I'm still saying that he wont talk to you, but I will show you where he stays when he is not hunting.” 

Steve gave a nod of appreciation while you reached for his hand and gave a light squeeze. “Thank you Thor.” You gave your own sentiments. 

The man looked at the two of you a moment, his eyes falling to your linked hands and motioned across the moors. “This way…” He cupped his hands, giving another howling song and the wolves joined them, spreading around Thor, these wolves were even larger than Mountain Packs wolves, giant beasts that were moving gracefully around there Alpha. You could feel the ground beneath your footfalls vibrating from there movements, the lush grass swishing to add to the melody of it all. Above them the thunder still rumbled with strong booms that cackled with electricity but had retreated from the fierceness it had flared up earlier. 

Your Little Wolf kneaded her paws next to the Alpha, lifting her head to inhale the air around them, it spoke of a wildness she was not used to. Something feral that did not adhere to normal pack constraints. The Alpha rumbled next to her, now and then dropping his muzzle to his mate to reassure her, but the pull to shift for both of them was strong. 

You could tell Steve felt it as well, the way he angled his body close to yours in a protective manner, his hand moving from a simple hold to pressing against your hip, wrapping around you. You tilted your head up towards Steve, your confusion clouding your features. He dropped his head to press a nip to your neck, whispering softly just for you. “I will explain later.” 

Thor paused in front of a wood that looked ancient, the gnarled trees had stories to tell. Shadows played deeper beyond the edge, enticing you to wander in. Your Little Wolf huffed slightly, breaking the enchantment you had fallen into. 

<This isn't just a forest Y/N, something powerful lives here.> Her ears flattened and you could feel her unease and the Alpha’s wariness sharpening, his ears pricked forward before twisting listening. 

What is it? You questioned your Little Wolf and she whined unsure. You felt the Alpha slip away, in the same moment Steve tilted his face up, his nostrils flaring. You knew he was scenting for any kind of danger that might come from the old forest.

Next to you Thor boomed out loudly, making it echo. “Come out Loki!” You and the Little Wolf perked, hearing the woods shift and groan, shadows danced closer when a streamlined black shadow emerged to turn solid, the beast was streamlined. His size shifting to grow larger in the presence of you and Steve, a sharp pointed muzzle turned towards you and ears twitched with interest as he took you both in. You were a bit taken aback when you saw Loki, but he paused just after the forest ended and you could see the tip of his nose twitching, green eyes with almost emerald qualities glinting with the bit of light that somehow seemed to filter from the thunderous clouds still rumbling above you. 

What do we have here? An omega to Rogers? A true Omega? Oh what a prize he really does have here. I wonder if he knows… A voice tickled your senses and the Little Wolf spun in your mind, searching for the intrusion. The Alpha returned to the Little Wolf, curling around her with a growl and a laugh echoed through you, not one that belonged to you. 

“Steve…” You whined a bit and he furrowed his brow looking at you, confused as well as to what was going on, feeling you through your bond. 

“Rogers is here to talk with you Loki, come out and quit playing games Brother.” Thor folded muscular arms across his chest and the black canine shimmered an emerald green while disappearing in a wisp of shadow and a sharp yip barking out from nowhere. 

A resounding defiant No. 

Thor shook his head at Steve. “Loki won't interact with Alphas short of me Steve, not since Shield pulled him from Hydra.” 

The Little Wolf unweaved from the Alpha when she heard Thor. 

<Y/N, we’re not an Alpha. Maybe he will talk to us.> 

Steve would never allow us to go in there alone. 

<It's the only way, Loki won't talk to Steve. He's too much of a threat to him. Say something, that big Alpha doesn't seem scared that Loki will hurt us.> 

You took a deep breath and while Thor and Steve discussed other options, you turned to the men, catching there attention. “Let me go in and talk to him.” Steve immediately barked out a no, but Thor tilted his head, considering what you were saying. “I'm not an Alpha, he won't be threatened by me, right Thor?” You pressed for an answer from the man and he nodded. 

“Your Little Pup has a point, Rogers. Loki wouldn't hurt her. I will escort her inside so she’s protected the whole way.” 

Steve felt his chest expand as he drew up to his full height. “I'm not letting Y/N go in by herself, I know you trust your brother, but I don't.” His eyes flared yellow, the Alpha close to the surface with concerns of your safety. You could see that he was winding up to call all this off when you reached up to grasp his face between your palms, tilting his head to look directly at you. 

“Alpha trust me, I know I can do this.” You stressed to him, the furrow in his forehead deepening as you knew he was at war with himself. “If anything is wrong, I will call you. Let me do this.” His hands circled your wrists and you felt that war inside of him. The same one where it was ingrained in him to keep you safe at all costs. It was all right there, flooding through the bond you two shared, your confidence, his worry. Steve huffed slightly before lifting his gaze from yours.  

“Thor, give me a moment with my mate please.” Steve requested and Thor moved away, closer towards the border of his brother’s forest, his broad back turned towards the two of you while he waited. “Little One, if something happens. Loki isn't a normal wolf…” 

“I could tell that as soon as we came near here.” You let your fingers press through his beard on his cheeks and slide down to his neck, sure to rub his scent against you in the process as well as sharing calming touches. “But he has the answers we need, Alpha.” 

Steve knew you were right, but the inner battle was fierce. The Alpha wanted to protect his mate, an animalistic need to not let you go into that forest, every fiber of his being was on edge because of it. His human side knew you could do this and get the answer to save their pack mates. You were confident, he needed to trust you like you asked. 

<Don't you let her go in there with that Alpha. What is Loki going to do to stop us.> 

Loki is not all Wolf as you well know, he won't tolerate the intrusion. 

The Alpha bristled aggressively, licking his muzzle over and over nervously. <We won't be there to protect her should he turn on her.> 

But Thor will be… You know as much as I do that he wouldn't let any get hurt in his care. 

“Trust me Alpha.” Your fingers trailed along the mark you had left on him, your mark that made him belong to you. The most sacred of bonds a mated pair could share and made in the utmost trust that you two would take care of each other. 

She is asking us to trust her. If we can’t trust in our mate, then what hope do we have? Steve was firm and the Alpha had to concede to him. 

Steve moved his hands to your face, cupping the most important part of his life gently in his palms as he inhaled deeply and tipped his forehead against yours. “Little One, if anything happens, anything at all, call for me. I will come get you.” 

The corners of your mouth lifted and he saw it go to your eyes, pride and strength that your Alpha was trusting you to go in his place. “Of course Alpha.” You lifted to catch his lips, nuzzling your nose against his. “I know you will come for me if I need you.” You embraced him fiercely, Steve let his nose bury in the crown of your head and then let you go against his instincts. The Wolf rumbled, anxious as he paced watching you reach Thor. His eyes reached the other Alphas. “Thor…” 

“I understand what is at stake. No harm will come to her, I swear it.” 

You looked so tiny next to the man, your head tilted up to look at him with a warm smile and Thor's tilted down to look back at you. Steve watched the same warm smile cross Thor's face, making your mate proud of you, how easily you had already won Thor over. You had come so far from the runaway he first met and your warmth spread so easily to those around you. Maybe Loki wouldn't be immune to you. 

The moment you stepped into the forest with Thor, it darkened. Looking over your shoulder, the emerald green sea of the moor was almost a picture racing away to be enclosed by old tree trunks. You licked your lips nervously and folded your arms around your body, sure to keep up with Thor. He was confident in his strides, the darkening vibrant woods was just as much home for him as the windswept open land you two left behind. 

The Little Wolf was curious in the new surroundings, pacing and keeping a keen eye on everything you were hurriedly passing by trying to keep up with Thor. 

You weren't wrong that the forest had a life all its own. It seemed to breathe around you, moss stretched across large boulders that sprang tendrils of plant life curling upwards to try and reach sunlight. Heavy thick trees were bristling against your palm and almost seemed to heave in sighs at your gentle touch. Thor glanced back at you, golden tendrils clinging to his face now and his eyes crinkled in watching you loosen from your fear into awe. 

“You feel it, right?” He chuckled and you withdrew your hand from the tree back to your body. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Its soul, the magic in it all.” He braced against a tree and inhaled deeply. “All of this is very alive as you and I, it's old and has been standing long before we claimed this as home.” 

You tentatively touched a nearby tree again, feeling tingles in your palms, making you shudder a bit. “It is certainly… like home, but not quite.” 

Thor nodded with a wink. “Still a baby over there, your packs are just starting to write the stories that will live on after you are gone. One day they will have a life of their own, just like this one.” 

Your brows quirked at his words. He's a funny man isn't he. 

Your Little Wolf curled her tail around herself as she sat down. <He is, but I like him. This place feels like we belong here.> 

There does seem to be a certain calling to be here… 

You two continued on and you risked another statement. “Loki is not like you, is he?” 

Thor shook his head. “No, he is not. But you have no need to worry Little Wolf.” He paused while he glanced around, inhaling sharply. “It's just me and Y/n, Brother, come out of hiding.” 

“I'm not hiding, I can't help that you are not a more observant Brother.” A cool voice came from above and your eyes shot up to a long legged man lounging in the branches, looking almost like he couldn't be bothered. Thor snorted impatiently and motioned towards you. 

“Y/N has some questions for you.” 

Vivid green eyes fell on you and a cool grin formed as he moved to sit up and slide down. He walked in such a predatory way, almost circling you. The Little Wolf's hackles raised at him and you hitched yourself straighter. You felt that tingle in your mind again. 

Why is it your Alpha is sending you in here for Omega? My brother is right, you are just a little pup aren’t you, so new to the world...

You snarled out loud, glaring at him. “You are not welcome in my mind, and I’m no pup.” And a quick withdrawal left you and Little Wolf alone once more. You could feel your Alphas curling warmth in your mind, even if he couldn't be with you. 

Respect crossed Loki's features and he bowed his head. “Forgive my intrusion. It's not often I'm sought out, except by Thor that is.” Thor barked out a deep bellowing laugh, clasping your shoulder. 

“You can't use your tricks on this one, she is small but fierce. Her Alpha has great respect for her.” 

Loki gave a slight sniff, his green eyes sliding over you as he remarked. “I’m afraid you are right.” 

You shrugged out of Thor’s grasp now, wanting the answers you came for. “Loki, our packmates have been collared by Hydra. Steve seems to think that you know how to break from their control. Please, is there any way to break the hold they have on them.” Loki suddenly appeared next to you, his fingers catching a lock of your hair and pressing it between his fingers for a moment as if further inspecting you. You jumped and pulled away from him, making Thor growl a warning at him. But you narrowed your gaze at him, knowing well that he was testing you. You had seen it all before while living with Pierce. “Don't touch me Loki, only Steve is allowed to. How did you do that anyways, appear next to me?” 

His fingers swirled slightly, green wisps dancing around his nimble long fingers. “Magic Dear. I'm part Coyote, a Trickster. Sure your Alpha told you?” 

You shook your head. “No… He doesn't talk much about his life in Shield.” Your Little Wolf crooned in comfort, knowing sometimes you were worried about how he would be so vague about it. 

“Well it was a dark time for the shifters.” Loki admitted and glanced at his brother. “I don't much like discussing that time either.” You clenched your jaw a moment, worried he was going to flat out refuse your requests but he dipped his head. “But for you Dear, you boldly come out here without your Alpha, that deserves to have your questions answered. Come…” He beckoned to you and led you away, Thor was not far behind. Soon a small dwelling came into view and the door yawned open, which Loki stepped in. 

Inside was different from what you were expecting. Books lined shelves upon shelves, seeming to go on forever. Plush chairs were dotted near a fireplace and wooden carvings dotted the entire area. Wood shavings littered the floor, making you smile a bit because it reminded you of your Alpha, the fresh wood scent enveloping you. The place was cozy, almost like something from a story book. Of course, this whole experience was making you feel that way, like some sort of fairytale your mother would have told you before bed. Thor heavily fell into a nearby chair, quiet as his brother waved at a seat in offering to you.   

Loki approached a shelf and whispered under his breath till a box fell into his hands. Easing it open, he pulled out a collar. Silver strands weaved together into an intricate design. “This one was mine, but it stopped working on me after a time. So it was just useless metal. Why Hydra had kept me caged when Steve found me.” He handed it to you and you were caught by surprise at how light it was. Studying it closer, you could see twists of coarse black fur wedged through it where it sat on Loki’s neck. 

“Why did it stop working?” You asked curiously and Loki settled down in one of the seats. 

“Simple, I willed for my freedom. Most of the wolves have such a strong desire to follow an Alpha. Even the Alphas themselves can be forced to follow a stronger one should they come across one. Hydra didn't know I wasn't a Wolf, not completely. I can't be controlled in the same way for long. But it's that simple in how to get your wolves back. Your Alpha has to challenge them for control. Assert that he is stronger than the one controlling them with the collars.”  

You handed his collar back to him and Loki flicked his wrist to send it back to the box, the box flashing away in the same green blaze you had seen earlier. “That's all it takes?” You asked incredulously. Loki shrugged with a nod. 

“Hydra though is led by someone who has a power that no Wolf should have. It's how they are able to control such a large and secret organization for such a long time. But such power can always be challenged.” He drifted off, looking away into the fire he had burning in the fireplace. 

You let the silence sit for a few moments before speaking up. 

“Why wouldn't you talk to Steve?” 

Loki gave a slight roll of eyes. “I don't care for Alpha’s, they always feel the need to challenge and dominate. I've dealt with that enough in my life. I choose to live on the edges of my own Pack, still a member should Thor need my assistance and the rest leave me in peace.” 

“Then why me? You seemed interested in me being an Omega.” The Little Wolf stopped her pacing for just a moment, head tilted in curiosity. 

“Because true Omegas do not need to dominate or be controlled by anyone.” Loki turned towards you, his head tilting into your direction. “You might always submit to your Alpha, but that's a choice you and your wolf make together, consciously or not. If you were to ever truly want to defy him, you easily could. It's why you were able to make me leave when I was exploring your mind.” You rolled your eyes a bit at the trickster, clearly not believing him. A life time of being made to submit to Pierce against your will and the recent incidents with Steve... you felt he had you mistaken. “ You can roll your eyes at me all you want Little Pup, but I know what I’m talking about. Omega’s can be a threat to Alpha’s or for the right one, there everything. Really depends on the Alpha they are connected to. So I like you Little Omega, you are a challenge for me.” He winked and you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the smile you gave to him. After all was said and done, you liked the Trickster. 

“Is there anything else you can tell me? How did you get the collar off?” You asked and Loki motioned towards Thor. 

“That was me. After Fury contacted me that Loki was with the Howling Commando’s Unit, I went to bring him home. I can provide you two with a special knife made to deal with unnatural made materials.” Loki rubbed at his face and his front door sprang open, a rush of air billowing into the dwelling. 

“Now I have answered your questions Omega, I can feel your Alpha pacing my border anxious. It's getting on my nerves. Return to him so he can settle back down.” 

You nodded, letting your senses open a bit and sure enough Steve was anxious, although far physically, you could feel him. Nodding as you approached Loki, you held out your hand to him. He eyed it a moment, and then slid his own in yours respectfully to give a shake. “Perhaps soon we will cross paths again, Little Omega.” 

“Perhaps we will Trickster.” You bid a final goodbye and now you left a bit more at ease, having the information you and Steve needed to save your family. 

[five-rivers]

Secret Saturday prompt? Van Rook ties up and gags Zak then stuffs him into a satchel.

Zak was skilled.  He was knowledgeable.  He was powerful.  

He was also twelve, and, despite his best efforts, not terribly tall.  

As such, it wasn’t terribly difficult for Van Rook to knock him out.  Now, separating him from his family and getting the drop on him?  That was difficult.  Whatever other cryptid abilities the kid had, enhanced senses had to be one of them.  Or perhaps some form of ESP.  

Anyway, one dart to the shoulder, and Zak was out.  Van Rook, with skills honed over a lifetime, soon had him disarmed, securely tied, gagged, and in the bag.  He put the boy’s weapons into a separate bag.  He wasn’t like his ridiculous ex-apprentice, who’d leave the potentially valuable magic weapon in the bag with the magic cryptid child.  

Feh.  

Now. Delivery. Most amateurs would expect this to be the safe easy part. Not so. In fact delivery, particularly to first-time clients, was the most dangerous part of the job. Van Rook couldn't count the times a client tried to kill him to get out of paying for bounties or services rendered.

He couldn't suppress a smile at the memory of the last man who tried to backstab him in that particular way.

He set the plane down lightly, next to the ruins. Well, if this client didn't pay up, there were plenty of other people who would. This particular guy just happened to sit at the sweet crossroads of 'good pay' and 'no apocalypse.'

There was a faint squeak from the bag strapped into the seat next to him. He raised an eyebrow. Kid should have been asleep for another half an hour.

He might have to add resistance to drugs to the list of freaky things about the kid.

He reached over and pulled the zipper down slightly. A pair of faintly glittering amber eyes stared up at him from a flushed face. The kid tried to mutter something around the gag, but failed to produce anything intelligible. Van Rook pulled the zipper back up. This was met with a muffled shout and thrashing.

No skin off Van Rook's back if the kid decided to exhaust himself.

Calmly, he went through his post-flight check before unstrapping the bag and making his way off the small plane.

His client was already standing there, on the grass, sweating and mopping his forehead with his sleeve despite the relatively cool weather, flanked by bodyguards. His face lit up when he saw Van Rook, and even more when he saw the bag.

"You have it, then," he said, excited.

"Of course," said Van Rook.

"Well, hand it over, then," he said, reaching.

Van Rook held up his hand. His client stopped with an affronted look on his face. "First," said Van Rook. "Money. Second, I have, maybe, one, two scruples. You say you need him to control this cryptid? Show me the cryptid."

"Scruples?" said the man, taken aback. "You were advertised-"

"Yes, yes, I know, everyone thinks they want this, this man with no scruples. But they don't. They trick themselves, see? A man with no scruples... a man with no scruples, is a man who wouldn't think twice about just taking the money any way he could. You see?"

The bodyguards had their hands on their weapons. Posers. Van Rook had never taken his off.

"... and, the other scruple?"

Van Rook smiled, nastily. "What do you think? I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt. You tell me to sell you a twelve year old. What am I supposed to think?"

The client had gone very red in the face. "I assure you-"

"Assure me with money. And the cryptid," said Van Rook. "Words can't buy me dinner."

"Very well, then."

The man turned and waddled into the ruins. Electric lights had been strung up to illuminate the darker areas, and there was a significant amount of digging equipment. Someone had been excavating. Most likely less than legally. Van Rook wondered how long it would take the other Saturdays to find this place and mount a rescue. Not that it mattered. The hell family would cease to be his problem as soon as he was paid and away. The client got to deal with them then.

He noted the kid had gone still. Worn himself out, maybe? Or perhaps the conversation with the client had spooked him. Kid might face off against the likes of Argost, but he was still only twelve.

They climbed down several flights of stairs that ultimately terminated in a large, only half-lit cavern. However, the ligting was good enough for Van Rook to see both the massive pile of treasure and the gnarled giant that guarded it.

"A spriggan," said the client, whispering. "All this way, and we can't make the damn thing move." Then he laughed. "There's your payment, for you," he said, waving at the treasure mound.

You know what? thought Van Rook. Screw this guy.

On the other hand, this had been hard work, and he did very much want to get paid. He had expenses.

Van Rook set the bag down and unzipped it, dodging a sloppy attempt at a kick from the kid. He had to give him credit for guts and even getting into position while tied up.

Van Rook hauled him into a sitting position. The client reached down to grab his chin. And forced him to look up.

"My, his eyes really are yellow, aren't they? Except for those, he almost looks human."

The kid growled, deep in his throat. It might have been one of the few sounds available to him around the gag, but it didn't help his case. The client laughed nervously. "Of course, the disposition... haha."

Van Rook rolled his eyes. It wasn't like the client would see behind his visor.

"Now, uh, make the monster go away."

The kid continued to glare.

"I think you'll have to be more specific."

"The spriggan. The giant. Make it leave. Make it go far away."

Still nothing. No magic spooky nonsense, no glowing eyes, no screaming cryptids, nothing.

"Let me, sir," said one of the bodyguards. He leaned down and whispered something lengthy in the kids ear, one hand gripping his shoulder. As he spoke, the kid's breath grew ragged and his skin took on a sickly cast. He tried to pull away from the bodyguard (towards Van Rook, for incomprehensible reasons), but despite the man's shortcomings in the bodyguard department, he could restrain a bound preteen who was probably still recovering from a dose of knockout drugs.

When the man let go, the kid was shaking. Although, that could easily be explained by their surroundings. He'd picked the kid up in Bermuda, and he'd been dressed for it. Now, they were in Cornwall. Much colder.

"Well? Go on, then," ordered the bodyguard.

The kid tried to say something around the gag and was promptly backhanded.

"Hey, hey," Van Rook said grabbing the bodyguard's wrist when he went in for another strike. "Let's hear what he has to say, huh?"

He untied the gag and tugged it from the kid's mouth, only allowing himself a second to be disturbed by how the cloth tore against his teeth. The boy worked his jaw up and down a few times and licked his lips before he tried to speak again.

"I can't actually do what you want me to do," he said, scowling.

The client's face turned thunderous. "Excuse me?"

"Well, to begin with, I'm out of range, and even if I wasn't, my powers are pretty limited without the Claw." He looked at Van Rook with ill-disguised hope.

"I'm not giving you your magic weapon, but nice try."

The kid's face fell back into a scowl. "Beyond that, I don't know who told you my powers were mind control, but they're not." He didn't elaborate. "I can't make that spriggan leave."

"But," said the client, hands fluttering, "magic-"

The boy pulled his lips back in a snarl, revealing too-white, too-sharp teeth. "Just because it's magic doesn't mean it doesn't have rules, idiot."

The list of things Van Rook was truly scared of was short and topped by his own empty wallet and whatever was going on with Argost. Zak Saturday didn't come close. But in ten years... Well. Van Rook would be retired by then, one way or another.

And, to be frank, the kid being stubborn right now wasn't his problem either. "So," he drawled. "I brought you the kid. Where's my money?"

The client's furious expression turned meek in a heartbeat. "Well, you can see-"

"Either pay me now, or I'm leaving with my merchandise."

"But-"

"Not my problem. Pay. Me."

"Well, I-"

Across the cavern, the giant roared something that almost sounded like language.

"He'll pay you," said the kid.

"What?" chorused the adults.

"He'll pay you. The spriggan. The spiggan will pay you, if you can get these guys to go away leave him alone. Double."

Van Rook looked at the kid, then the cryptid, then the massive pile of treasure the cryptid was sitting on. He shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

"You can't be serious!"

"I'm always very serious about getting paid."

.

Zak sat next to the spriggan, arms around his knees, and tried not to breathe too deeply. Van Rook had left a while ago.

"Thanks for letting me wait here with you," he said. He meant it, and the cavern really was much more pleasant once the spriggan cleaned up Van Rook's work. "Mom and Dad should pick me up any time now." He glanced at the entryway and shuddered. It wasn't like he'd never seen blood before, and it wasn't like he'd never been kidnapped before, but...

The spriggan dropped an ancient, ratty fur coat around his shoulders. He looked up with a weak smile.

"Thanks."

[seiyasabi]

Beta

(This is a Yandere Alpha N’Doul x Beta Female Reader! I hope you guys enjoy this :))

TW: !Noncon/Dubcon!, no stand au, sexual harassment (from the big man himself, Dio),  mentions of disability(blindness)!, mentions of organised crime!, mentions of violence!, !knotting!, breeding kink!, you have no rights even as a Beta :((, !Alpha kink, !slight scent kink, !slight body horror at the end but nothing explicit!, etc..) 

When you accepted the role as a caregiver, you assumed that the man you were going to watch after was normal. After all, the man was rumoured to have a trust fund, and you assumed that he was rich from old money. 

How wrong you had been. 

How would you have known that the man you’re helping is in one of the most feared mafia’s in the world? 

You’d found this out by accident. He’d asked you to bring an expensive wine for him and a ‘friend,’ but when you walked in, you saw his ‘friend’ sprawled out on the floor, dead. That’s when he used his ‘Alpha Voice’ on you for the first time. He demanded you move into his estate, because he couldn’t risk you being a snitch. 

The ultimatum was to move in, or die, and by God, you weren’t going to die. 

-

“If you weren’t a Beta, I’d have stolen you away a long time ago,” Your hands shake slightly when you pour an expensive scotch into the blond Alpha’s cup. You’d always been sensitive to an Alpha’s scent or words, and this man’s smell is overwhelming. 

“Thank you, Mister Brando, but I’m sure my boss wouldn’t like that,” You chuckle nervously, as you swiftly move away from his large form. Taking a small glance towards N’Doul, you see an impassive look on his well-sculpted face. He’s used to his boss’ crude words towards you, but the annoyed pheromone in his scent is very apparent. 

“Of course he wouldn’t, you’re one of the few useful servants here,” He swishes the amber liquid around in his cup, the ice clinking against the glass making you flinch, “But, I have a proposition for you that I know you can’t refuse; you smell very… enchanting for a mere Beta. This is a known fact. The only differences between you and an Omega is that you’re level-headed and less annoying. That means that you’ll make a very good mate for one of my most trusted men,” By this time, you’d made your way to your boss, and were in the middle of pouring him a glass of a strong smelling bourbon. The blond Alpha’s words make your blood run cold, and you quickly stop pouring N’Doul his drink in fear of your shaking causing a spill. Dio’s golden eyes flash in amusement, “Why do you seem so surprised, Beta? You’ve been faithful to us for quite some time now, and I believe you deserve some comfort. If you marry him, you’ll live a lavish life. The only thing you must do for us, besides giving us unwavering loyalty, is bear him many children. The mafia needs a future generation, after all.” 

You gasp in disbelief, your free hand covering your gawking mouth. He can’t be serious. You weren’t born into a mafia family, you weren’t rich, you aren’t good on the field, etc., why would he want you to marry one of his high ranking men? 

“I, uhm, I’m flattered that you’d offer me such an amazing, uhm, opportunity, but I don’t think I can up and leave my boss. I’ve helped him for about two years, so it might not be very good for him-” N’Doul suddenly grabs your right wrist, scaring you half to death. You almost drop the bourbon bottle in your left hand, but luckily regain your hold on it. 

“She’s right, Master Dio, I still need her assistance in my manor. She helps me write my paperwork, reads off important messages, and assists with many other equally as important tasks. It would be quite hard for me to find someone who is as trusted and reliable as she is,” He slowly releases his hold on you, gently squeezing your right hand’s fingers. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, Dio looks positively pleased with himself, while your boss looks in his general direction with an unamused expression. 

“Are you both sure that you want to miss out on this opportunity? I didn’t even say the Alpha’s name yet,” The both of you vehemently nod, you because you don’t want to marry some rando to become a baby factory, and your boss because he can’t bear the thought of you being mated to someone else. “I see, what a shame. I was actually going to offer her to you, N’Doul, but I guess she can continue to be your servant if you want,” The dark haired Alpha’s scent turns sour, making you gulp in both fear and confusion. 

“Master Dio, what are you implying?” 

“You want to marry her, don't you? Your sweet Beta always takes care of you, she’s willing to do anything to make you comfortable,” Oh God, Dio thinks you’re in love with your boss, “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the change of your scent when she walks into the room, or how you treat her so kindly. The N’Doul I know wouldn’t have hesitated to kill someone if they found out his secret, yet you spared her without a second thought. It seems that the both of you have found your match,” He throws his drink back, finishing it with a single swig, “But, if you still don’t wish to marry, I understand-”

“Please don’t play with my feelings,” Your boss stands to his feet, his scent now overwhelmingly angry, “Of course I’d want to marry her, is that really a question you must ask?” Dio smirks at his uncharacteristic anger. 

“Oh, is that so? Then I suppose I will allow it,” He stands to his feet as well, easily towering over the both of you, “Now that that’s settled-”

“Wait! I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but don’t I get a say in this?” N’Doul, who is closest to you, tries to reach out for you again, but you easily dodge his hand, “I’m sorry Master N’Doul, but I don’t want to marry you. I also don’t want any children, and I don’t want any direct involvement with the mafia. I’m fine helping you out around the house and doing my job, but I don’t want anything besides a professional relationship,” It’s quiet for a long moment, a look of hurt flashing over your boss’ face, along with an upset smell permeating the room, before Dio begins to laugh. 

“Oh my, it’s so adorable that you think you have a choice. Did you forget that even though you’re not an Omega, the law still views you as lesser to an Alpha? For once, we’d be following the law in making you submit to your Alpha,” The blond rounds the left side of the table, heading straight towards you. In a panic, you try to move to your right to round the table and run for the door, but you run into your boss. 

Instead of being thrown off kilter like usual, he stands firm. His arms wrap around your middle, forcing you up against him. You think that he’s surprisingly well built for a man who needs your help 24/7, and that’s when you realise that you’re just a cover. The police know that you work for him, and whenever they’ve questioned you, you’ve always said the same thing; he has no sense of balance, he needs your help to get around the house, etc.. But, looking at the situation at hand, it’s clear that he’s never needed you for anything besides his mafia paperwork. 

“I think she’s figured it out N’Doul,” The scary Alpha is now before you, staring down at you with a shit-eating grin, “Though, that doesn’t matter. What matters now is that you listen to me well,” Oh no, “You’re going to marry him, whether you want to or not. You will give him as many pups as he wants, or else you’ll be punished. If you try to escape, you will be punished. Do you understand me?” He’s used his Alpha voice on you. Normally this wouldn’t phase a Beta, but you were no normal Beta. 

Against your better judgement, you nod, saying a very forced, “Yes, Alpha,”

“Good. His rut will begin in a few days. When that happens, you will service him as an Omega would. I will give you some heat inducing pills, and you will take them the moment his rut begins,” You stare at the ground with a frown, and nod. 

“Okay… but how will they work? I’m not an Omega-” N’Doul’s hold tightens around your ribs exponentially, making you wheeze. 

“Don’t act too rash,” He scolds the dark haired Alpha, “That’s an excellent question, Beta,” You flinch at his words, and freeze in fear when he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, “There are many drugs on the market that can trigger a reaction from your kind. Many Alphas find it fun to break a Beta down into a gushing, cock or pussy hungry whore. You, my dear, are going to be my dear friends’ mate, which means you need to be ready for a long and hard week. If you aren’t you’ll surely die of exhaustion,” N’Doul growls at that, causing Dio to shush him softly, “So, to stop that, you’re going to go into heat as well. It’s as simple as that.”

His words are calming ones, trying to lull you into a false sense of security. But, you know better. You know that both men can kill you easily, you know that your boss could give you up, ending with you becoming a sex slave. So, to save your own skin, you give in. 

“Okay. I understand.”

-

The next few days are a whirlwind of emotion. Because his cover has now been blown, N’Doul refuses your help with any task besides paperwork. Turns out, he’s very high functioning, and he is able to count his steps to-and-fro, and is also able to do things like cooking without your help. 

Ever since that day with Dio, he’s been trying to make it up to you. He’ll make you your favourite food, dress you in pretty dresses, help you shower, etc..  It’s honestly suffocating, but whenever you try to distance yourself, one of his few servants will detain you, only to return you back to the patient Alpha. 

The day before his scheduled rut, one of the female servants took it upon herself to wax your entire body. Unfortunately for you, she’s a very old fashioned Alpha, and she had no qualms in using her Alpha voice against you. So, she sat you down on the edge of a large jacuzzi like bath tub, and went to town. When your soon to be mate called for you, it’d taken all of your power to walk down the stairs without falling flat on your face. He’d known something was wrong, because your smell wasn’t as lovely as usual, and the way you walked sounded completely different than normal. You didn’t bother lying to him, and to say he was pissed was an understatement. 

A low growl draws you from your thoughts, along with the heavy smell of arousal trailing from N’Doul’s quarters. Sighing in dread, you head towards your dresser, grabbing the pills Dio gave you from a small unused jewelry box. Chucking them into your mouth, you unscrew the cap of your water bottle and take a large swig, swallowing down the aphrodisiac you are forced to take. 

Shuffling towards your door, you hear the male’s groaning grow loader. Is he outside your door? Grabbing the cool doorknob, you practically throw the door open, expecting to see him kneeling outside. When the hallway is exposed, there’s no one there. Sticking your head outside, you check to see if he was farther down the hall. Nope. It’s empty. 

You see his room a few doors down, and realise he’s just that noisy. 

Straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, you trudge towards his abode. Knocking lightly on the door, you call out to him, “A-are you okay in there?” All noises cease, leaving you in suspense. Putting your ear against the door, you try to listen in to see if he dropped dead or if he was walking towards the door. You hear nothing, and prepare to pull away, only for the door to open, making you fall forward. Two warm arms catch you with a quickness, before you’re dragged into the dark room, and tossed onto a very comfortable bed. 

You bounce once you hit the mattress, only to be pinned down in an instant. He noses your throat, ghosting over your scent glands. His tongue laps at your neck greedily, trying to taste your skin on his tongue. N’Doul’s large, Rough hands grope at the fat of your hips, trailing up to your breasts. He seems to be trying to get a reaction out of you, but all you do is cringe. 

The pills haven’t fully kicked in yet, so you’re very uncomfortable under the rough treatment the Alpha is giving you. Noticing this, he growls in annoyance, “Don’t act shy, Darling. I’ll make you feel good if you make me feel good,” Did he truly mistake your discomfort for timidity? 

“I, uhm,” He silences you with a heated kiss, both of your spit mixing together, much to your disgust. His fingers pull and prod at your blouse covered nipples, twisting slightly to elicit a reaction. A gasp leaves your lips, as you try to remove his hands. The medicine was slowly, but surely starting to work, making your breasts more sensitive than usual. 

He grips the material of your shirt with two fingers, a small snarl coming from his lips, “I want this off. If you want to keep it, you better strip fast,” You practically throw your shirt over your head, moving as fast as you can. Your best friend had given you his shirt years ago, and you’ve used it as a sleep shirt ever since. 

A small smile decorates his harsh features, as he is finally able to feel your skin against his. He squeezes your breasts, loving the feeling of your fat between your fingers. You try not to look, hoping to zone out the entire session, but the rapid heat appearing in your tummy is making it very hard to do so. 

“I can’t wait until these are filled with milk, your Alpha might have to have a taste for himself,” A gasp leaves your lips at his erotic words, especially when his lips connect with your right nipple. He suckles on it like a child, whilst toying with the hem of your panties. With one swift movement, he shucks them down your legs without separating from your chest. 

A loud moan escapes your throat, as he starts to toy with your puffy pussy. The waxing from the night before makes you more sensitive than normal, eliciting all the right reactions. He removes himself from your chest, bringing your panties to his nose, breathing in your slick. 

“Such a yummy and cute little Beta, no wonder everyone everyone confuses you for an Omega,” He licks the seat of your panties, practically cumming in his drawers at your taste, “Fuck, you even taste fertile. Does your little womb want my cum, Darling? Want me to pump a cute baby into you?” His words send another wave of heat to your core, causing your slit to gush out your arousal. 

“Yes, yes please! Please fill me up!” He smirks at your neediness, and he shoves your legs apart. The smell of your arousal permeates the room, causing the large man to choke on his own spit. 

“Oh my, your pussy smells so good,” N’Doul practically dives between your legs, sniffing at your dripping pussy. Your hands reach down and grip at his black locks, practically begging him to eat you out. 

“Please lick my pussy! I was to take your knot,” He starts to kitten lick at your clit, causing tour hips to buck into his face, smearing your arousal over his chin and nose. He moans, loving the thought of everyone knowing that he belongs to you. 

“Such a Good Girl, in no Time, we’ll have a cute pup running around. Then I’ll fuck another one into you, giving them a sibling to hang out with,” You keen at his words, especially when he inserts two fingers into you at once. He scissors them at a fast pace, sucking on your clit harshly. Your cunt gushes in your first orgasm, making your back arch and a scream leave your lips, “What a good Darling, loosen up so I can fuck you full.” 

He adds two more into your cunt, your pussy sucking his fingers with an iron grip. His hips rut into the mattress below, as he brings you to a second release. 

“I’m gonna stuff you full, keep you locked on my knot. My Darling Beta, my cute cumslut,” he withdraws his hand from your heat, making you whine. But, he’s quick to shut you up with another heated kiss. Pushing your knees back, he puts you into a mating press. With one hand he keeps you in that position, and the other pushes his drawers off of his hips, kicking them off onto the floor. 

Lining his tip to your slick hole, he dips it in, testing the waters. When he feels your ring of muscle practically pulling you in, he can’t help but slam his entire length into you, causing you to scream out in both pleasure and pain. His tip rams into your cervix harshly, trying to access your deepest point. 

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, and starts to roughly fuck into you. His heavy balls slap against your ass in a rhythmic fashion, whilst he forced your knees by your head. 

“Fuck, your sloppy cunt is taking me so well. I love the way you gush around my cock,” You can’t say anything, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth falls open, eyes rolling back into your head. Pathetic moans rattle your chest, as he smashes himself as close as he can to you, “Don’t worry, Beta, your Alpha will fill you up nicely. I’ll make you round with my baby, I’ll give you pretty milky tits, and I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life!” 

He picks up his pace, trying to draw out more noises and slick to help him force his way in. His knot is quickly forming at the base of his cock, and it pulls almost painfully at the opening of your slit. 

“A-Alpha, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum!” He smiles at your admission, starting to force his knot inside. 

“Good Beta, cum around your Alpha’s knot,” N’Doul forces his entire weight onto you, bucking his hips even harsher than before. 

His knot catches on your opening one more time, before breaching your drooling cunt. He ruts into you for a few moments longer, before his knot hardens fully, breaching the opening of your womb, locking himself inside of you. 

The feeling of him knotting you causes you to squirt, your release just barely slipping past your stuffed opening, painting his abs with your cum. He forces his mouth onto yours, as his seed pumps into you in thick spurts. He fills you up so much, that you feel bloated, your tummy poking out a little bit more than normal. N’Doul Real esse your legs, letting you settle into a comfortable position, his warm hand lays on your stuffed womb. 

“My beautiful mate, I’m so happy you accepted me. We’ll have the best pups, I’ll make sure none of you want for anything. Fuck, why’re you squeezing me so harshly?” 

You whine in both pain and pleasure, laying your forearm across your eyes, “I think I need to go to the hospital. Betas aren't meant to take knots, and you’re currently deep in my womb,” He scrambles to pull himself out, only to yank on your womb harshly, making a small scream of pain escape your lips, and tears dot your eyes, “No! No! Not right now, oh god, that hurts so bad!” 

His moment of post nut clarity, brings him to kiss your face with multiple tender kisses. 

“It’s okay, Darling, we’ll patch you up soon. Maybe Dio will have a drug to make this less painful for you.” 

You stare up at the ceiling with dread, the pills he gave you makes you feel good, yes, but the pain of no longer having freedom and a knotted cock in your womb is enough to make you sick. 

Hopefully your kid will be cute. Because, if not, you don’t know what you’ll do. 

[heybeybey]

You should be killing titans Levi

Happy Smutty Saturday everyone. I actually promised angst but the plot I have in mind for that one might need a few more weeks because my mind is melting.

Anyway, have crack instead feat. Levi getting horny over a titan. Man just can't catch a break.

And no, the sex happens in Petra's human form. Please, I'm not that fucked up yet 😭

Summary: Petra somehow acquired the Cart Titan during canon events and Levi, whose sole purpose in the past few years was to kill titans, finds himself simping over one.

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Romance, Humor, Crack

Words: 2,480

---

When Petra emerged from her titan form the first time, the only thing Levi thought about was her safety. Sure, they'd seen that Eren was perfectly fine, albeit a bit knocked out of it. But the idea of humans controlling titans is still pretty new to their own little world. As Petra's captain, of course he'd do whatever he can to protect his subordinates.

They tested out her abilities in the limited time they have until the next expedition. Hange, the mad bitch that they are, would be the one doing and leading the experiments while his squad oversees. Frankly, him and the three other guys think it's more to protect Petra from Hange's crazy ideas.

So, it was the same as usual. As far as usual can get when it comes to the Survey Corps, that is. Petra was still in his team and surprisingly, nothing changed in their relationship as captain and subordinate.

Everything only shifted when he'd seen her in action during her first expedition as a titan shifter.

He honestly thinks that her titan form is ugly as fuck. It was even uglier than Yeager's. However, seeing the fire in its eyes, in her amber eyes that is just so Petra had left him a little bit awestruck. Her titan has the same ginger hair and he shouldn't be thinking this, because he's looking at a titan, but is it shining when the light hits her tresses? He feels his mouth go dry as Petra's titan shields an injured scout from two abnormals, before making a move to kill them by biting off their napes.

She lands back on the ground, re-assembling herself in their usual scouting formation.

Fuck.

"Levi? Are you okay?" Erwin pipes up once they're all in the clear.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Erwin?"

Erwin, that bastard, only gives him a slow smirk in return.

"I hope that won't be much of a hindrance then," Erwin says, gesturing down. Levi glances down and only realizes now why his pants have started to tighten. The fact that he's currently riding a horse isn't doing him any favors.

---

There was this one time when Hange wanted to test how long the younger girl can retain her titan form and they found out that she can go on for months. He'd have to admit that he misses actually seeing Petra's face but even Levi found her titan's strength impressive.

Until she started crawling around in her human form.

He finds her crawling one afternoon and Levi feels that familiar heat flare up inside him as he takes in the curve of her back and ass. His eyes would sometimes stray there during trainings but he'd never expected her backside to be this round and full. The fact that she's currently in a dress that reaches just below her knee is only making this worse. He swallows when he sees a hint of exposed skin of her thigh and if he could bunch up her dress further, it would be so easy to just take her right now.

Levi's hand twitches, and he repeatedly needed to remind himself that touching his subordinate is considered harassment.

"What the fuck are you doing, Petra!?"

"Oh, hi captain!" Petra flushes in embarrassment, trying to push herself up against the wall but fails every time. She almost hit her head once, if Levi hadn't stepped in and helped her up himself.

"I'm sorry," She says, clinging to him. Levi, mortified that another inch closer would mean she'll feel the rising enthusiasm below his belt, tries to discreetly move his lower part away. "I didn't know this is a side effect of being in my titan form for too long. I'm actually on my way to tell Hange about it."

"Side effect?"

Petra only blushes deeper. "My body... might've forgotten how to walk properly since I've been on all fours for so long."

Levi can feel his brain short-circuiting when she said the words all fours. His brain started supplying him with an image of her on all fours in his own bedroom floor, of how he would bend her over and make her suck his-

"Hey Petra!" Thank fucking god. He'd never been so glad to have Hange around. "Gunther said you were coming to see me?"

Wanting to get everything over with completely (so he can run to his room and deal with his rising erection), he hoisted Petra up in his arms instead, leading to her wrapping her own arms around his neck. A blush tinges her soft round cheeks and he tries to avoid looking down at her, knowing that she's staring up at him in wonder.

He'd noticed this with Petra whenever they're physically close together, of how she'd be in a sort of trance whenever he'd subconsciously tuck a strand behind her ear or when she'd lean down to set his tea on his office table and he really shouldn't be thinking of this right now when he was just thinking of fucking her if Hange hadn't barged in.

Once she's settled in Hange's lab, Four Eyes took that moment to turn to Levi.

"Now you know how I feel whenever I see titans," Hange says.

"What." Horror starts to rise in Levi's chest when he realizes their implication, but only his disgust shines through his face.

"What?" Hange answers back, acting as if what they just said was a normal statement.

---

That same afternoon, Levi demanded from the medical team that they better provide him a crutch right fucking now or he won't be responsible for the injuries he'll be causing on the inhabitants of the room.

He hurriedly gives it to Petra, harshly ordering her that she is not to crawl around like that ever again for the sake of her dignity. Deep down, he knows it's to save his.

---

He tried to avoid being alone with Petra in her titan form in the coming months. Actually, he avoided being alone with her completely, even when she's out of her titan. But it's a Friday night and all the other scouts have been given time off, with some of them already packed up to go home for the weekend to see their family.

Petra, on the other hand, had no choice but to stay until further notice. She could barely leave the building unless either Levi, Eld, Gunther or Oluo is with her.

He sees her alone right now outside since Hange wanted to test if Petra can stay up all night in this form. The sun will rise up in a few hours, and he thinks this is more than enough time to indulge Four-Eyes in their curiosity.

"Captain?" It always catches him off guard whenever Petra speaks in her titan form. Her voice was so different from the sweet and cheerful tone he'd gotten used to greeting him in the morning.

"Couldn't sleep."

She's currently lying down, hands tucked under her titan's chin and it endearingly reminds him of a ginger cat curled up and poised to sleep. He noticed how Petra's eyes reveals just how bored she is, staring only straight ahead.

"Aren't you tired?" Levi asks, leaning his body against the side of Petra's titan form. Feeling the titan's bare skin almost made him flinch because he knows it's Petra. He shouldn't be thinking of his subordinate naked right now but her titan form isn't helping at all.

"Levi... are you actually getting attracted to a titan?" Erwin had asked him once, amusement coloring the blonde man's features, when he caught Levi staring at Petra's titan form during one of her experiments with Hange. "Maybe I shouldn't have allowed you to be around Hange too much."

"Are you on some drugs, Erwin?" Levi snaps, but can't help the thumping in his chest and the rising panic because of course Erwin would catch on eventually. "Are you getting too smart that that brain of yours actually rotted and died in a shithole?"

Petra only shakes her head. "I'm all good, captain. Besides, Hange tells me I can take the day off to rest tomorrow. Still can't leave the barracks though."

Levi tries to avoid cringing at hearing her titan's voice. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to it. "Can you not talk to me while you're using that voice? Get out of there." He orders.

Petra, always obedient and willing to please her captain, did get out of her titan. She struggled with detaching her hands as usual and Levi sighs, making a move to climb up and help her.

Before he gets the chance to do so, Petra was able to pull herself out abruptly but the force was enough to send her flying to the ground.

Levi's reflexes was fast enough to try and cushion her fall but the angle wasn't right for him to catch her properly, and Petra ends up landing on top of Levi and both of the groan at the impact.

Levi thinks that his erection must really hate him. It already betrayed him once during a fucking expedition. It's rising again now as Petra shuffles around in an attempt to stand up, muttering a string of sorry captain! and I didn't mean to, her every action brushing further against his dick.

"Stop it, Petra!" He shouts, panic almost tinging his voice. Petra freezes at his voice and Levi thinks that maybe he shouldn't have asked her to stop moving because now, his dick is directly against her thigh and she'll eventually feel everything.

He watches as confusion passes through Petra's face, before it shifts to shock when she finally realizes what was pressing against her thigh, eventually settling on a coy smile.

They stared at each other a little longer before this minx actually found the courage to intentionally press her thigh down further. Levi finally allows his pent up lust and frustration to blow over, growling as he grabs Petra's hair to pull her down for a bruising kiss.

---

When Petra mentioned that she's getting a whole Saturday off to rest, he's pretty sure this wasn't how Hange instructed the younger girl to spend her day.

He already came once after she enthusiastically sucked him off. He could only watch in a daze as Petra took him as far as she could, almost intentionally choking herself on his own cock. He's surprised at how much of an absolute freak Petra is, insisting that she's going to swallow every last drop of him even when he tried to push her away for her sake.

Now, she's settling herself on his bed, on all fours, and Levi's pretty sure he's going to die before this day ends. He palms her ass, giving a squeeze as he feels her up, before kneeling behind her to deliver hot kisses down her spine. Petra shivers when he pulls on her hips to draw her closer.

"I wanted to rail you so bad the past few weeks, Petra." He whisper against her skin, hand trailing down to start playing with her clit. "Fuck, your experiments with Four Eyes only made it worse."

"Take me like this then, captain." She says in the filthiest voice she could muster, grinding her ass up firmly against his clothed erection and opening her legs further for him. From the naughty smirk that she's giving him, Levi finally realizes that she'd already known just what has been running on his mind the past few weeks.

He can see her core glistening, half from when he'd fucked her with his tongue earlier on and half from her eagerness and anticipation to have him inside her as soon as possible.

He tears his underwear away, wasting no time in breaching her wet core. Petra moans wantonly, curving her lower back further so she can push her ass up to pull him inside of her more.

How can someone who sounds and looks and acts so sweet be such a fucking slut in bed? he thinks in a daze as he starts pounding inside her.

It was a tight fit and Petra grabs one of his hands to push his palm up against her breast. Levi was all too eager to indulge in her fantasies, thumbing down her erect nipple and squeezing as he gives a hard thrust.

When he hits the spot inside her just right, that's when they both fasten their pace. Petra braced her arms against the sheets, head falling down and forehead resting against the soft bed as she takes everything that Levi gives her.

She comes first, grabbing a pillow to catch a moan that's bordering a scream. Levi revels in the feeling of her tightening around him and after Petra says yes, I can take birth control come inside me, captain please, he didn't even think. He just lets himself go and Petra moans further as he releases hotly inside her.

Petra slacks down on the bed with him following, his bare and sweaty chest against her back. He rolls away after he'd caught his breath, and Petra giggles from contentment and ecstasy.

Her giggles shoot straight down to his cock and Levi finds himself starting to harden again. She squeaks a bit when she feels his growing erection against her ass before smirking, a challenging glint on her amber eyes as she finally turns to face him.

No words were needed to be spoken and she tempts him by throwing a toned leg over his middle, inching her skin closer to his crotch.

Needless to say, Petra found herself on her back, knees almost touching her shoulders as the captain made sure she kept her legs open for each of his thrusts.

After that round, Levi could only exhaustedly lie on his back afterwards. His mind is still swimming after orgasming for the third time in a row.

He was about to ask her if she'd like to take a shower first before they sleep, only for Petra to roll herself on top of him. She started peppering kisses along his jaw and neck, making it a point to grind her exposed nipples against the hard lines of his chest.

"Fuck, again?"

"Didn't Hange tell you that the cart titan has amazing endurance?" Petra leans in, a coy smile on her lips. "I can go on for hours, captain."

[dixon-angel]

Choices {Daryl Dixon} Prologue

Summary: Earning Daryl Dixon’s trust for the most part was harder than surviving the end of the world. For you, though, all it took was one trip gone wrong into Atlanta. Safety is never guaranteed.

T/W: this series follows the story of TWD (the show, not the comic) and will contain: strong language, violence, depictions of gore, depictions of vore, major character death, spoilers (if you haven’t seen the show before), sexual themes, drug use, heavy themes (will be trigger warnings for those scenes). Read at your own risk, I am not responsible if any content upsets you, you have been warned.

There was a low, somber air around the farm. It had been quiet for the most part of the week. Most had been snappy, and Carol… well, it was easy to imagine how a grieving mother was to be. Especially given the circumstances.

Daryl Dixon, it seemed, though, was highly affected by what had happened. He had fought with Shane over looking for Sophia and had spent so long tracking the forest - hell he’d even almost killed himself with his own damn arrow looking for her. He had hope. He had given Carol hope. Yet… she had been in the barn the entire time, locked up like cattle. She had been in there. She had been a walker for god knows how long and… Daryl had been looking for her.

There were footsteps, but Daryl sat still. He didn’t care for people. He hadn’t ever since Carol had pushed her way out of his arms and stormed back to the farmhouse. It was soul-crushing finding Sophia there. It truly was. Daryl felt defeated.

“Hey…”

Usually, that voice would bring him so much comfort but Daryl would not look over, not even when he felt you plonk down beside him.

“Daryl, look… about Sophia…” you were slow with your words, quiet. You didn’t want him to explode on you. You knew that out of everyone, you were the least likely to get any aggression from the younger Dixon brother, yet you couldn’t help but be cautious around him.

The sun was setting nicely, an amber glow falling amongst the trees. There was a chill in the air but neither of you minded. It was kind of nice compared to the blistering heat that had been present earlier in the day.

You took in a breath. It wasn’t easy to talk to Daryl when he was upset, but he had blown up on just about everyone lately and you had kept your distance. But you didn’t want to anymore. You knew why he was acting out and… you didn’t want him to push everyone away from himself.

“...Daryl,” you began with a sigh, “what happened to Sophia wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault….”

Daryl didn’t answer. He didn’t even acknowledge your words. He was starting absentmindedly towards the farmhouse.

“I know you blame yourself, you think you could have done more for her but… Daryl, she was in the barn. She was bitten a long time ago…”

“That doesn’t help.” He replied gruffly. At least he wasn’t screaming at you.

“I know…” you sigh again, stretching your legs out in front and placing your hands on your lap, “but… she was only twelve, Daryl… I hate to say it but Shane was kinda right, she didn’t stand a chance.” You scoffed. Daryl made a grunt in response, “She was only a kid… in a sad kinda way, death was probably a good thing for her. She was growing up in a world full of death and decay. Death was a kind outcome for Sophia.”

“...try tellin’ Carol that…”

“... yeah, maybe we keep that between us, huh?” You knocked your shoulder against his.

It went quiet for another moment. You took the pause to think about what you were going to say next.

“This ain't a world for kids to be growing up in Daryl, you know that, right?”

“Yeah..” Daryl scoffed.

“I mean… I know I sure as hell don’t wanna bring kids up like this.”

“... so that’s it, huh? All we do is bump uglies?”

“Daryl…” you sighed, “that’s not what I meant.”

“No, go on and say it, cause I thought-“

“Daryl,” you cut him off, “I don’t wanna raise a kid in this world. Look at how much it changed Carl. If, and when, I have kids, I wanna… I wanna be able to bring them up in some sort of stability. I wanna be able to let them learn how to ride a bike in the middle of the street, or to play kerby for hours on end, I want my kids to have a childhood, not what Sophia or Carl have to endure.”

It was Daryl’s turn to sigh. He plucked up the courage to finally look over at you. Your side-profile was blooming with the golden hue from the sunset. It cast a kind of angelic look across your face. You weren’t looking at him, not even with your eyes. Daryl’s gaze lingered only for a moment before he turned his head.

You were right. Sophia’s death was a tragedy. It shouldn’t have happened but… this was no world for a kid to be living in.

“So, what, you wanna build up some kinda civilisation? You wanna rebuild humanity?”

“I guess…” you chuckled lightly. You knew how crazy it sounded, “you think I’m hoping for too much?” You looked over at Daryl and for a moment, your eyes met.

“Girl, I think you’re batshit crazy. You’re hopin’ for something’ way outta your zone. Try hopin’ for a rabbit for dinner.” He was joking, but the seriousness in his voice would throw someone less familiar with him off.

“Yeah… I guess I am hoping for too much. But you gotta have hope, right?”

“Yeah… it drives ya forward… gives ya something - anything - to cling on to… I… I hoped Sophia was alive… not just for my sake, or for Carol, but for everyone… cause if that little girl could outsmart all the geeks in the woods, we mighta stood a chance.”

You looked over at Daryl. He was staring at the ground. He was blinking a little too often and you knew that if you were looking at him head-on, you’d find tears in his eyes. Rick, Shane, Lori, Dale, everyone else, they didn’t see Daryl for who he truly was. He was a very broken man, but you saw beneath his hardened shell. It hadn’t been easy breaking him down, it had taken you since the start of the outbreak to get this far.

Daryl was a good man. People never even tried to see the good in him, though. They saw a hot-headed redneck and… well, they didn’t want to look after that. You saw him, though. You saw Daryl and he saw you, too.

“I kinda blame your old man for all this.” Daryl broke the silence, “he should not have left her alone.”

“... I kinda blame him, too.” You agreed, “but he didn’t have any other choice. If he did, I know he would not have left her like that. I’m sure he feels guilty enough without us pointing fingers.”

“I suppose…” Daryl took a breath, “what took ya so long to come see me, anyway?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact you’ve been kinda rude to everyone else? I didn’t want you breaking up with me over this.”

“Nah, I’d never do that.” He managed to shuffle a little closer before slinging his arm over your shoulder. You melted into his touch. You had missed him.

“Will you come back, now, angel?”

“Back?”

“Will you move your damn tent back to camp, Daryl Dixon?”

“I don’t think you’re leavin’ me much choice, are ya?”

“I am not.”

You pushed yourself up and out of Daryl’s touch. He wanted to grab you back but you had already taken a couple of long strides forwards to get out of his reach.

“I am sorry about Sophia, Daryl. I know finding her meant a lot to you. At least you got your closure.” The golden glow was engulfing you now and Daryl really didn’t know how he’d been so lucky to land someone like you.

“Yeah…”

“Can you come back? You gotta shower- don’t look at me like that!” You chuckled, “come on, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Well, you didn’t need to say much more for Daryl to be pushing himself off of the log he had been perched on.

[yan-genshin]

warnings: general yandere content, drug use (alcohol), implied death 

a/n: trying out a new writing style for this one! hopefully it works out-

♥︎ kaeya alberich

kaeya doesn’t like being alone. it’s not something he shows openly- it’s something he keeps deep down, along with most of his honest thoughts and feelings. but it’s as true as the sky is blue; he’s always seeking company, whether it be from his fellow knighst or from less than savory fellows at the bar. but now it’s not enough; loneliness goes from “being alone” to “not having his beloved around

“you’re leaving already?” kaeya’s smooth voice makes the traveler stop in the doorway to angel’s share. it’s late at night, but not so late as to worry about the bar closing; in fact, it seems mondstadt’s night life is just waking. the traveler doesn’t stick around at bars often, not being one for alcohol, and frankly, there’s no reason why kaeya should want them to stay. he’s got work to do, as evident by the table of probable bandits he’s been chatting up all night; and yet for a second he seems genuinely displeased the traveler is leaving. it’s only for a second, though, and quickly his teasing tone is back as he chuckles and waves his hand. “well, well, at least let me walk you to your inn. you are staying in the city, aren’t you?”

he should be relieved that stormterror- or dvalin, as he should call the dragon- no longer threatens the city, but he can’t. sure, the traveler hasn’t left yet, but he’s heard them talk to venti, talk to others about how they’re supposed to head to liyue soon, to try and speak to rex lapis. it’s mean of him, but it makes him roll his eyes. do they truly think they can just waltz in and get an audience with a god? they got lucky here- to just run into barbatos, that “venti” is as kind and aloof as he is, but there’s no reason rex lapis should be like that... right?

he plants seeds of doubt smoothly, carefully. loose comments about how ancient and important morax is, about how many people crowd around him during the rite of descension, that it’d surely be hard to speak to the god as an outsider. 

he said he’d called them over to his office for a small mission, but it seems he’s more interested in small talk. paimon refused to come over, still hurt about kaeya tricking them once before with his fake quest for some random sword and treasure; but the traveler is still there, dutily attending the cavalry captain’s request. to be fair, he is seemingly briefing them on a mission- something minor about some slimes in springvale- but he’s also awfully chatty. and somehow the topic falls onto the traveler’s twin; it’s hard to miss the glint in kaeya’s eye when he speaks. “i have to admire your dedication. why, me? i wouldn’t be putting in so much effort into chasing for someone who, for all i know, was probably killed by- an all-powerful goddess, you said?”

tearing the traveler down just to be there for them “on their lowest” is scummy, sure, but it works. he has a way with words, a way to bring up the outlander’s wounds to surface, to shatter their heart with his words and then have the gall to rub their back and hold them in his arms when they cry, gently consoling them in ways that don’t really help. oh, are they worried their twin might be dead, gone forever? now, now, no need to cry- they’ll always have a family here in mondstadt. they’ll always have him.

if he were anyone else, the traveler might have just gotten mad at him. but he’s kaeya; shady, up-to-no-good kaeya. of course he can twist his words and actions just perfectly, to make his horrible actions not that noticeable and yet so painful, to make his fake kindness and manipulation appear genuine to the lonely traveler

stacking up tasks and missions on the traveler’s back, packing on emotional baggage and doubt, making the traveler about as afraid of being alone as he is. after all, the traveler has always been with their twin; they’d been using the faith of finding their missing sibling as fuel to keep going, but with the idea that perhaps said sibling is gone planted in their head it’s hard for them to not seek out comfort in kaeya’s presence, with how he dotes on them

paimon is of little help. the little creature might have been the traveler’s closest friend, but the lack of adventuring seems to make the little woman less clingy. in fact, she’s more often than not hanging out with amber or bothering venti- it’s clear she doesn’t know how to deal with the traveler’s sudden depression, choosing to steer clear while “the problem sorts itself out”, not knowing that leaving them alone is just giving kaeya more openings to present himself as the only comfort for them

it’s almost pitiful how he’s trained them, he thinks. they come to him willingly, like a pet seeking its master. even though they end up crying most of the time, due to his own words, they still come to him knowing he’ll kiss their tears away, play with their hair and rub circles into their back as they hiccup and sob. they still talk about leaving sometimes- stressing over missing the rite of descension in liyue- but he knows they don’t have it in them to take on the journey, not as they are. dependant on him. 

it’s so easy to be mean once he knows he’s got the poor traveller hooked. to make them doubt their own fighting, their own skills, making them believe their only real use is to run menial tasks for the knights. oh, don’t they know mostly everyone thinks they’re clumsy and useless? but not him, no, no. it’s so easy to make himself the center of their world once he’s completely destroyed it and re-built it for his own purpose

and even then, if the traveler insists on going to liyue- if even after all this work, they still try to leave, then he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty. he doesn’t need to play fair; he just needs to win, right? the fact that the roads from mondstadt to liyue are well-traveled and the hubbub of the rite of descension keep people distracted. nobody will notice one less traveler walking down the roads.

it’s truly as easy as letting the traveler drink more than their share on the night of their “departure”. letting them say goodbye to everyone, promising to return soon. and then just hitting them hard on the back of the head as they walk out of their inn. paimon isn’t a big deal; he doesn’t particularly adore having to dispose of such a helpless creature, but it’s also not difficult to just freeze and toss into the lake surrounding the city as he carries his darling back home, only for them to awaken confused and with a chain around their ankle

“are you angry, perhaps?” he doesn’t sound like a kidnapper, but that’s what he is. or at least at the moment- surely, his dear little traveler will settle down soon enough. “i’d say this is for your own good, but i won’t lie to you, dear. i just had to do this. you were going to leave me.” his voice drops at this- it’s as if the words themselves hurt him. to think they’d leave. he watches with delight the scared look in his beloved’s eyes, how they nervously tug at the chains and ask if this is all a joke. it isn’t, of course. this is just how things have to be. he’s happy to keep telling them that looking for the seven archons is useless; do they really think their sibling is alive? after being attacked by a goddess? didn’t they themselves barely survive months on the beach just because they found some weird fairy thing?

in the end, kaeya values his comfort over his darling’s. this- everything- is his desperate attempts to keep them from leaving. and so what if it ends with a terrified and horribly depressed traveler locked in his house? they’re scared of him, but they also can’t help but crave his comfort, memories of him soothing them and wiping away their tears still resonating with “comfort and warmth” in their mind. and that’s all he wants, really- to hold them, to be the only person in their mind. it’s ok if they break a little in the process, it’s ok, as long as they don’t leave

[op-sheepy]

6. dark law, 19. Davy Back, 36. the whimsical captain trafalgar law, 55. marine pet AU!

 Oh, good eye. Those are some of my favorites.. Here is another long one under the cut. Also sorry for the late response. :D

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6. Dark Law

Essentially my take (one of them at least) on what would have happened had Corazon not taken Law from the Donquixote pirates but left anyway when he thought Law had ratted him out.

Some details regarding this:

Rocinante returns to the marines and was able to submit the intelligence he'd gathered. This doesn't do much except inconvenience Doflamingo, as already acknowledged during Law and Doffy's fight.

Vergo gets discovered so he just goes back to the family.

Law does not eat the Ope Ope no mi since Doflamingo never intended for him to. At least, initially.

Because, I'm assuming, not everyone can perform the "Perennial Youth Operation," as it was stated they needed to be 'wise' or 'knowledgeable' and being a doctor does not really automatically equal that, Doflamingo had to kill the users he had chosen when none of them could do it so the fruit could go back to the circulation and he could feed it to the next potentially qualified person he could find.

Law's Amber Lead Syndrome got healed by one of these users though it was only because Law, himself, taught them how to (being familiar with the disease through his father's research as well being a good doctor)

Eventually, everyone realizes that Law is actually the most suited to wield the fruit (all the other smart doctors either having a fruit already or are simply inaccessible), certain that Law would be able to figure out how to do the ultimate technique. So, reluctantly, because he does care in his twisted conditional way, Doflamingo gives the Ope Ope no Mi to Law.

Law at this point had been raised as Doffy's right hand, all according to his plan. While he truly considers Law family and might genuinely regret making him give up his life, Doffy would still ask it from him because there is nothing more important than Doflamingo and his goals. A sentiment that almost everyone in his family considers true.

And Law... well...

Doflamingo rested both hands on Law's shoulders. His tinted glasses peering down, voice heavy with regret, "I wish there was another way."

Law's face remained impassive only broken by a small wistful twitch of his lips. It almost looked like a smile. He grasped Doflamingo's arm and directed him towards the operating table.

"You have taught me many lessons one of which was the futility of wishing for better circumstances." Law seated him and prepared his equipment.

"You taught me to take advantage of any situation by using whatever it is at my disposal." Carefully, he opened a package of sterile gloves. It wasn't really needed but the ritual of opening the pack and putting the gloves on one hand at a time always helped settle his nerves.

"I had expected you to do the same so I'd been prepared for this even before you gave me the fruit." Law lifted his eyes as he slid the first glove in place. "Don't feel too bad. I really am grateful for everything you've done for me. This is just me returning the favor."

He slid the other glove and stretched it over his hand. Softly, almost a whisper, without taking his eyes off his would-be patient, "I wish there was another way too." The snap that followed the release of the glove was too loud in the small operating room.

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19. Davy Back

Early Heart Pirates stuff. And another workaround for writing with at least one of the nameless Heart Pirates.

A Davy Back Fight is initiated for an abused crew member of the opposing crew because Penguin couldn't help himself. The rules are a work in progress, hence this fic's state in limbo.

I really like writing about how these guys were when starting out. They probably looked too adorable, to be honest, so in the harsh North Blue they must have had a hard time getting treated seriously. Not that that would have bothered them (I honestly think they exploited it a lot.)

The enemy captain stared intently at each Heart Pirate then at the list of members given to him. The man didn't bother controlling the upward curl of his mouth.

"No powers. No weapons. Sumo wrestling with your navigator and hand-to-hand combat with your doctor."

Shachi choked and struggled a little bit to get his breathing back to normal. He waved away Penguin's hands patting his back. The pats were a little too harsh, clearly an admonishment if the accompanying glare was anything to go by.

Penguin almost felt sorry for whoever it was being matched against Law. Bepo, while just as incensed by the other crew, was way too conscious of controlling his strength to ever really hurt anyone too badly. The captain, on the other hand, could turn someone into a useless writhing lump of agony by systematically dislocating joints Penguin hadn't even known could be dislocated. Gruesome as severed body parts looked, the powers could at least make it painless.

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36. The Whimsical Captain Trafalgar Law

More Heart Pirates stuff though would feature some of the allied crews as well. This is actually a series/multi-chaptered (or would be).

A Heart Pirates adventure fic where they all go along with their captain's whims all while trying to figure him out. His crew is so used to it they barely even flinch anymore.

Not to say they understand him because who knows what goes inside their captain's head. In fact, they debate that sometimes (a lot of times) the crew being divided among those who think Law has got a plan and those who think he's winging it (often switching really).

"You can't possibly tell me there's some sort of plan behind this."

More than half of the crew looked a bit skeptical, the rest looked defensive.

Clione held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not complaining. I'll follow the captain wherever same as you. But you gotta admit that there isn't always a method to his madness. He really does do things on a whim."

"I disagree. The captain's just saying that but he knows what he's doing. Pretty sure there's a reason behind all his actions..." Protests started, so Penguin amended, "...that isn't just him being a bastard on purpose because he hates someone. Which is a pretty valid reason since we are pirates."

"How about that time we raided the flour factory?" Ikkaku asked.

Penguin's reply came immediately. "Discreet incendiary." A beat. "...also he hates bread."

Before they could celebrate, Shachi interrupted, "His dislike of bread counts as a reason and since it's incidental it doesn't count as a whim."

With narrowed eyes, Clione tried again. "The monastery? Dressing up as monks."

"Medicinal plant in the courtyard bred by this one priest."

"Marineford?"

"Allowed us to get intel and allies."

"And the emergency operations without anesthesia?"

"Possible drug interaction. Emporio Ivankov and their hormone powers."

So continued their back and forth. By the end of it, Penguin and Shachi looked way too smug. Truthfully, they both agreed Law was more impulsive than he let on, often unaware of it himself. But they knew the man they chose to follow always had a plan and purpose (though not necessarily present at the start, but semantics)

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55. Marine Pet AU

Haha... Another one of those difficult to explain ones. Starring the Marines (particularly the original three admirals and Sengoku), and the Shichibukai.

Uhm... So everything's the same except the Shichibukai aren't pirates. They're animals. That's it.

It starts with a wayward flamingo wearing eyewear harassing officers near one of their HQs. Also the Marines need to improve their public image. For some reason, the best they came up with is to get a mascot. Hitting two birds with one stone. (Except they can't really hit the bird. They tried)

So the Marines build a zoo or a habitat. Here are the only types of pirates the World Government can tolerate. Aren't they cute and fluffy?

The public eat it all up. It's popular so now they have to commit. And really, these animals become so important their safety and wellbeing become the higher-ups' problem.

Kizaru is having fun. Aokiji is resigned. Akainu tries (he doesn't quite know what but he'll do what's best for the Marines even if that's getting that damn flamingo away from the reptile enclosure for the tenth time that week on a Tuesday.)

Will feature other marines as well as all of the Shichibukai. All of them.

He checked the schedule and sighed deeply.

Boa, Doflamingo, Mihawk.

He had the most troublesome ones. Briefly, he contemplated just letting his subordinates handle them but quickly scrapped the idea.

He wouldn't say these animals were attached to him and the other admirals but they got more difficult to handle the lower the rank as though these creatures' egos get ruffled. It wasn't a matter of ability. It was perhaps more accurate to say that they had respect. A modicum of it.

It should be Boa's feeding time. Another sigh escaped him as he headed towards the grooming room, a room specifically made to groom Boa's food.

It took them a while to figure out the snake's preferred diet but they found it out when a stray kitten had snuck in and Boa swooped in to swallow it whole. From there they determined that she would only eat cute animals--any less adorable and she doesn't even look at it. So puppies and kittens. And maybe bunny rabbits. Which was bad from a PR perspective so they've taken to grooming rats. Put a nice lovely ribbon and brushed them so they're all fluffy.

He entered the grooming room and one of the officers assigned there took a quick look at him, glanced down the rat they were grooming, then burst to tears (they tended to get attached.) He pressed his hand to his head letting the ice cool down his budding headache. Why couldn't he have gotten Jinbe?

Thank you for playing. :)

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Good Vibrations

Thank you to @permanently-exhausted-witcher for that Geralt edit yesterday! You really did me a solid and, as promised, I have written you the fic! I love stoner aus (because I myself am a bit of a stoner) and this was so much fun to write. Thank you for the prompt, boo!

Good Vibrations - The Beach Boys

tw: drug use, marijuana only, horny

---

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Jaskier asks. “They’re all...red.”

“Yeah, that can happen,” Geralt replies. The room Geralt had rented before Jaskier even reached the mid-sized Redanian town was unusually cushy. His Witcher’s tastes were usually more spartan in nature and the bard was curious as to why he’d chosen such a place to stay for the two of them. And why it smelled so weirdly sweet and skunky at the same time. 

“Did you burn incense or something? It smells weird in here.”

“Not quite,” the Witcher giggles. Fucking giggles. “Come over here and I’ll show you.”

Jaskier crosses the room and sets his pack and Sexy down next to the bedside table. He perches on the edge of the mattress next to his favorite Witcher and waits patiently for the strange red-eyed ailment to be explained. Geralt giggles again and puts a finger to his lips, signalling for secrecy. Another small, happy sound finds its way between his lips and Jaskier can’t help but smile encouragingly in response.

“I’m high.”

“What?”

“Lambert found a huge field full of the dankest kush behind Kae-”

“Hold on.”

“Huh?” Geralt looks over to Jaskier again and finds the bard looking positively flabbergasted.

“Did you just say the words dankest kush?”

“Yes, I did. It’s really good shit. Do you want some wax? It’s all I brought because it’s easier to travel with.”

Jaskier considers for a moment, running his hand along his smooth chin as if pretending to stroke a beard. Geralt is gazing at him with eager eyes and his hands are clenching and unclenching in the sheets beneath him. The bard has never tried this particular substance before but if Geralt is offering it then it’s probably not something that will kill him or make him sick. He nods, brown bangs flopping in and out of his eyes as he does, “Sure, I’ll try a bit.”

The Witcher’s face lights up in a new and unfamiliar way, like he’s truly relaxed for the first time since Jaskier has met him, and he breathes out a soft: “Excellent.”

Geralt pulls a strange, jointed glass contraption, half-full with water, from beneath the bed and removes a tiny tin (almost small enough to be a lip-rouge tin, it looks like) from his bag. Using a small metal pick, the Witcher takes a glob of some odd yellow, sticky substance and transfers it from the tin to a protruding stem on the glass thingy. “What is all this?”

“It’s called a dab, Jaskier. It gets you high in a different way than just smoking the herb.”

“Can’t say I’ve really tried this before,” the bard shrugs. “So for now it’s all the same.”

“Really?” The Witcher seems extremely surprised. His grey eyebrows disappear nearly all the way into his hairline; he’s rarely this expressive and Jaskier is reveling in it. “But you’re always so...horny.”

“Thank you for that assessment,” the bard deadpans. He shrugs off his doublet and undoes his chemise where it laces at his throat, letting some of his chest hair peak out. Geralt swallows the growing lump in his throat as his friend mutters, “It’s fucking hot in here.”

“Well yeah, it is now,” Geralt snorts. He can’t seem to stop himself from adding,  “It’ll only get hotter if you keep taking your fucking clothes off.”

“Alright, whatever this shit is,” Jaskier says, gesturing to the dab rig, “I want some in me like yesterday. If it can make you, the great and grumpy Geralt of Rivia, joke around so easily then I want to be on the same spiritually transcendent plane.”

Geralt’s brow furrows as he squirrels the tin back into his bag. Without another word he signs for Ignii and watches the amber wax bubble and melt a little in the stem. Geralt breathes in through a tube at the other end of the rig and Jaskier watches a swirl of thin white smoke bubble through the water in the wide glass chamber and into his friend’s lungs. After a moment the Witcher releases the cloud back into the room and that sickly sweet stink returns.

“Your turn,” the Witcher half-coughs, gesturing at the multi-jointed pipe. Jaskier leans forward and mimics his friend, taking a long, hard pull of white smoke. Geralt yanks the dab rig away with a bright laugh. “Fuck, Jask! You’re going to die!”

The bard releases the smoke more quickly than Geralt had, taking the Witcher’s words to heart as he’s compelled into a coughing fit by the strange itching burn of the drug. “G-Geralt! Wh-What the fuck!?”

“Are you okay?”

There’s already a pleasant, tingling buzz settling at the back of Jaskier’s skull and behind his eyes. He breathes through the cramps in his chest and settles more firmly against the mattress. He feels soft. Pliant. “I feel like a…”

Geralt waits a moment to hear what Jaskier feels like but the sentence never ends. The Witcher glances over to find his friend, glassy-eyed and silent, staring down at his palms where they rest atop his thighs. Oh. Jaskier is high. Like really fucking high. And he’s only taken one little hit.

Geralt has had four.

The bemused Witcher sets the now-empty dab rig on the table and tugs Jaskier closer so that their thighs are nearly touching but not quite. The bard looks up from his hands, startled, and allows himself to be moved. “Oh, hello again. Geralt?”

“Yes, Jaskier?”

“You’ve been smiling this whole time,” the bard muses. His voice sounds dreamy and far away, half a register higher than usual. “Are you going to die? Is that why we’re doing this? Why have you gotten a nicer room than usual, one that I would like, and why are you giving me this...stuff? Is it all so you can break the news to me that you’re dying of some strange Witchery ailment?”

“No, it’s the drugs,” Geralt replies. “They make me feel very relaxed. They make my mind a little quieter. I got the nice room because I had a little extra coin and I thought...I thought you’d like it.”

“I do.”

“Good.”

“Thank you.

“You’re welcome.”

“I can feel so much,” Jaskier sighs. Geralt glances over at him again, watching his long fingers swirling against the soft material of his high-waisted trousers. 

“I’d like to feel you.”

“Huh?” Jaskier looks dazed. Geralt slowly lowers his large hand, settling it against the top of the bard’s unoccupied thigh. 

“You always look and smell so soft,” Geralt murmurs. “Are you? Are you really always that soft?”

Jaskier glances up. His face breaks out into a wide, dopey grin. “Yeah. I’m really that soft.”

Geralt’s hand is rucking up his shirt a second later, sliding his hand along the smooth skin of Jaskier’s rib-cage and over onto the man’s slightly coarser, hirsute chest. The Witcher is fucking purring. A loud, deep rumble comes fluttering out of his chest as he caresses the man beside him. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier sighs. “Yes, like that.”

“It’s been so long; I’ve missed you.”

The Witcher’s lips seek out and sink against his bard’s. The two men slide down against the pillows and adjust until both are shirtless and tangled together. Jaskier is resting with his head against Geralt’s chest, his fingers swirling through the silvery hair, and Geralt’s hand is buried in the thick brown hair atop Jaskier’s head. 

To the bard’s extreme surprise, his Witcher begins to sing very softly above him. 

“I - I love the colorful clothes he wears;

And the way the sunlight plays upon his hair. 

I feel the sound of a gentle word 

On the wind that lifts his perfume through the air.”

“Are you singing about me?”

“Hmm.”

“Did you write a song about me?”

“Don’t get too excited,” Geralt chuckles, “I overheard it at a tavern on my way  north and it happened to remind me of you.”

“So you memorized it?”

There’s another lazy hum from the Witcher and Jaskier feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. 

“That’s so incredibly sweet of you, my love.”

“Well, you’re incredibly sweet. Only makes sense.”

“Kiss me again, Geralt. I swear that I’ll die if you don’t.”

“No dying on me, bard,” the Witcher orders, dragging his lover up his chest and pressing their mouths urgently together. “Never.”

“Let’s have some more of this stuff,” Jaskier suggests breathlessly. “And then see what happens. I’m feeling very...touchy.”

Geralt grins and reaches for his bag.

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [07]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption w.c; 3.5k a/n; the beginning of the end! like my mama said while i was cleaning my room, it has to get messy before it gets clean! that being said this is a series for @btsghostiewritersnet​ BGW Bingo Bash! now that we’ve gotten this far, would you say our heroine has truly lost her mind? 

[06] [07] [08] -> masterpost

Something is off and Jungkook doesn’t know exactly what, and therefore he has no way to approach it. 

HIs knee is bobbing uncontrollably as he throws his phone back and forth from one palm to another. He’s in a recording studio downtown, in an unfamiliar area that made Jungkook thankful that he decided to leave an hour early. He hears some hushed voices from another room, and he tries not to fiddle around too much as the chair in the waiting area is rickety and on its last limb. 

You texted him this morning with your usual pleasantries, saying you had a fun lesson to teach today and you couldn’t wait to set up your classroom. You’re also equally excited for Jungkook’s first recording session, and you urge him to “knock the socks off this producer guy.” 

But since that night you slept over, you haven’t brought up the tears you shed in his sheet. You’ve been painfully amicable, insisting that you’ll tell him when the time is right. 

Jungkook wants to be patient for you, and he will be. But he doesn’t know how to help you, help the two of you move forward without any context. He gets that the memories that are holding you back are painful, but he wishes to help ease that burden. Jungkook’s head starts to spin at all the possibilities that he could get you to feel comfortable enough to talk. 

“Hey,” Jungkook’s reverie shatters when a small guy in all black comes up to meet him. Jungkook shoots up, hand immediately darting out to shake the older one’s hand. He chuckles, “Jihoon sent me your demo last week. You have some killer vocals.” 

“Thanks,” he replies bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m Jungkook, by the way.” 

“Right,” the producer nods, gesturing for him to follow him down the hall. “I’m Min Yoongi.” 

Jungkook nearly trips over himself. He’s heard that name before, he’s sure of it. He tries to wrack his brain for the memory, something he’s brushed to the side after so long.

“Jungkook!” you cried. He was paralyzed when you first met, a frazzled woman shoving herself on him like you’ve known him his entire life. He didn’t know why you were trying to hide him, but you looked so terrified he couldn’t formulate a quick enough response. “Kook, what the fuck? It’s broad daylight, you can’t be out like this without a mask! Where on earth did you hide that bike? Dispatch will have your ass and the devil Min Yoongi’ll kill you again for sneaking out—” 

“Uh, Yoongi?” the pair step inside his little studio, neat and monochromatic. There’s a comfy couch in the corner, and Jungkook seats himself there while Yoongi slides into his rolling chair. “Do you by any chance know someone named y/n?

Yoongi shrugs, too busy going through his computer files to take notice of Jungkook’s wheels turning. “No, should I?” 

“Guess not,” Jungkook mutters, “what about Dispatch? Are you involved with them?” 

The older one swirls around in his chair, knuckles nestled in his milky cheeks. “Is this an interrogation?” 

Suddenly feeling hot, Jungkook shakes his head. “Sorry.” 

“But to answer your question, thankfully no,” Yoongi leans back in his seat, staring at the ceiling, “thankfully they’ve been smoked out ever since they got sued for defamation against that SNSD member, among dozens of other women. That was what, two years ago? But my artists are always squeaky clean.” 

Jungkook grapples the pieces in his brain, feeling the sudden itch to text you. 

“You’re askin’ a lot of weird questions, kid,” Yoongi says simply, “but since you have the voice of a fuckin’ angel on Cloud 9, I’m willing to overlook it.” 

The younger one nods wordlessly, letting Yoongi go on a tangent as he describes the song he has in mind and how he wants to approach it. He tries to focus, and intermittently fails as he falls in and out of thought, always coming back to you. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“Hoseok, I feel it.” 

“Feel what, nausea? Heartburn, indigestion? Upset stomach? Diarrhea?” 

“Is that supposed to be a joke, Noona?” Bogum is sitting next to you on the picnic blanket laid out for the both of you. Today was supposed to be Hoseok’s off day, but Bogum’s mom offered Hoseok a pretty penny to take Bogum for the day while she had to attend a last-minute work project. 

“Yes, Bogummie. Although it was a terrible joke,” you admonish, sending a playful grin to Hoseok. 

“Do you like my new shoes?” with the attention span of a squirrel, Bogum hops up and jumps up and down on the grass. His new Elmo sneakers light up and make little squeaking sounds, “isn’t it cool! My shoes talk while I walk!” 

You giggle, “Yeah, now we’ll never lose you when you go off to the bathroom,” you reach for his sippy cup and instruct him to drink water, “go play on the slide, we’ll watch you from here!” 

Bogum immediately agrees, shuffling away with rhythmic squeaks from his sneakers as he bumbles over to the small playground on campus. Without the presence of children, you feel Hoseok’s eyes train on you as you try to formulate a response. 

“I don’t know, I woke up this morning and I felt a little too… settled?” you taste the word on your tongue, hoping it matches with the turmoil going through your brain. You continue to stare at Bogum, not a care in the world as he goes down the slide for the nth time, “my life isn’t moving forward anymore. It’s so, peaceful?” you nod at your question, then turn to smile sadly at Hoseok. 

“This might be the last time we see each other.” 

While you don’t know the rules and regulations of whatever fate or magic that brought you here, you always knew that this time had to end. You feel like you’ve experienced enough in this small lifetime to feel this kind of contentment. Any further into this life and you could change it however way you wanted to. 

You didn’t want to do that. You wanted to go home. 

Hoseok’s smile is equally sombre, but he plays it off with a scoff. “I guess this is the part where you leave me and I have to go on with the rest of my life questioning whether these past two months were real or a crazy drug trip while I spend nighttimes TL;DR-ing our story on Reddit.” 

You break into laughter, clutching your stomach as you try your hardest not to think too heavily of this moment. “Hobi, you won’t be alone in this. I’m going to tell Jungkook tonight,” you confess, “I don’t know how he’s gonna take it, but try to be there for him. For me?” 

Hoseok tilts his head to the side, “In your world, were me and Jungkook close?” 

You hide your grin by taking a sip of your water bottle, “Very close. He sobbed himself a river when you wanted to quit the group.” 

“Hm, maybe we’ll be close someday too.” 

“Maybe,” you pull out your phone, instructing Hoseok to do the same as he waits for whatever you’re about to send him. 

Hoseok phone pings and he opens the document you just shared with him. His brows knit at the neat notes, zooming in the small font. “What is this?” 

“For when the other me comes back in my place,” you lean over him to point out the details highlighted in light blue on your digital document. There’s addresses, student details, lesson agendas, even the money you spent while you used the bank account. “it’s in her drive, but I think she might… freak out regardless. If I really got hit by that oncoming truck, I don’t know what she’s going to be feeling. At least this is a quick cheat-sheet, so she can catch up on the past two months and continue on with her life.” 

You try to tamp down the guilt that you feel, knowing your alter-self could be in a far more dangerous situation than you right now. 

“So if you can stop by the apartment tomorrow—Taehyung and I changed the keycode a couple days ago, maybe bring over some coffee so you two can talk it out?” 

“Of course, don’t worry about us,” and Hoseok starts to get teary, which makes you get teary as he says his next words, “once you go back, I want you to be happy, okay? We can’t exactly text or—or F-Facetime like we always—oh shit,” he shoves the sleeve of his hoodie in his eyes, “w-why does it feel like you’re dying or something?” 

You throw your arms around him, letting him cry on your shoulder. You sigh into his amber bangs, his long fingers digging into your wrist but you don’t care. Knowing letting go was going to be hard, you’ve emotionally prepped yourself since this morning, but it doesn’t hurt any less when you’ve become so close with Hoseok. 

“Who knows?” you run your fingers through his hair, in an attempt to soothe him, “maybe I’ll have another taste of that angel wine. You’ll show up in my dreams or something.” 

He shakes his head, “Hell no. What if Jungkook really decks you with his motorcycle the second time around?” 

“True,” you say, “I’ll miss you, Hobi.” 

“Do me a favor when you get back, yeah?” he breaks apart from your embrace, squeezing your shoulders. “Go find me and try harder to be my friend, alright?” 

You deflate a little, “But you’re so cool, I’m a little intimidated. It’s different when you’re surrounded by kids like a mama duck.” 

“I know I’m cool, but just try,” he says, “and I’ll try to be your friend again, too.” 

The two of you hug again, this time not saying anything. At this time Bogum waddles up to the two of you, sweaty and damp as he collapses onto the blanket. The two of you laugh as Hoseok presses a paper towel to the boy’s head. 

Bogum scrunches his nose, “Why are you crying?” 

You sigh, reaching to lightly pinch his forearm. “I’m going to be gone for a little bit. So take care of Hoseok while I’m gone, okay?” 

Bogum frowns, but puffs his chest out and nods, “When will I see you again?” 

Instead of you answering, Hoseok cuts in for you. “Soon,” he says with finality, eyes darting between you and a satisfied Bogum. He looks at you and mouths, we’ll figure it out. 

This time around, you know you don’t have to worry. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

“Jungkook’s waiting in your room,” Taehyung jabs a thumb in the direction of your shared hallway. “Probably passed out and took a nap.” 

“Oh?” you check your phone, “he’s early then.” 

Taehyung shrugs, the strap off his backpack sliding down to his elbows. “Looked a little frazzled. Maybe he had a long day.” 

“Yeah, he said he had his first recording session. Maybe it was overwhelming.” 

Taehyung nods, moving past you to get to the door. “I gotta go back to the studio,” he grimaces, slipping on his loafers, “literally don’t give two fucks about Tiffany’s seniority. Her fashion taste is complete garbage and I’m ready to spend the rest of the night fighting her for it.”

“Good luck,” and in your haste, you wrap your arms around his waist. 

Taehyung’s surprised by the sudden bout of affection, but he returns eagerly as he squeezes you back. “See you in the morning, we’ll go finish that Kim Seokjin drama we started.” 

You force a smile back, “Yeah, see you.” 

You don’t leave the little space by the door until you’re sure that Taehyung is completely gone from your vicinity. Relaxing your shoulders, you pull off your layers and bag and place them on your corner of the living room. 

Padding quietly, you take your time in turning the doorknob to your bedroom in case Jungkook is still sleeping. 

To your surprise Jungkook is not sleeping, however. He’s hovered over your desk, looking up at you from your yellow notebook. 

“Y’know,” he says, tone sharp, “you really shouldn’t just leave your stuff laying out here like this. Anyone can read it.” 

You bristle, shutting the door behind you even though Taehyung was already long gone. Maybe you wanted to contain everything in your room, hoping Jungkook wouldn’t run away at the story you had behind this. 

“Usually people don’t come into my room to read stuff off my desk.” 

“What is this?” he asks, “some sci-fi novel you’re concocting? Why do you have so much information about me?” 

Over the course of your two months, you’ve added more and more to your logbook. It was the little things at first, like the differences between the Hoseoks and the Jimins. But then you felt like you were starting to forget your life back in W1, so you got to writing memories. Stupid, little tidbits about your relationship with Jungkook. Or the brands of wine you and Sehlyung would fawn over during your nights out. 

But Jungkook is pointing to a particular page in your notebook, fingers digging so hard that his nails are turning white. You step further into the bedroom, taking slow steps as you approach your desk. 

One sleepless night, you took it upon yourself to write the lyrics to Still With You. The lyrics are written plain as day, glittered with star and moon designs and a little air conditioner decorating the margins.  

Your heart drops as you see the hurt marring Jungkook’s features. 

“I haven’t told anyone about the songs I’ve written,” he says, pain dripping from his voice, “not even Yoongi. How on earth could you have found my song? How could you have known that I wrote it one night against my air conditioner?” 

You feel like cotton is blocking your throat, “Jungkook, I wanted to tell you tonight—” 

“What, that you really are a crazy stalker?” he steps back, whirling around so now he’s the one in the direction of the door. He takes two steps back, closer to the exit. “That I’ve been so dumb to believe your lies? That I should’ve left you on the street? That you still see me in whatever Jungkook you once knew and now you’re taking it out on me?” 

“Jungkook, please listen—” 

“Because now I know you and I can’t work out,” he spits with finality, hands finally finding the doorknob, “we will never work out—” 

“I know!” you finally scream, and Jungkook falters. You’re shaking, but not erratically. You’re sobbing, shoulders wracking as you let your body collapse against the desk chair. This conversation feels startlingly familiar, as if you’re back to square one. “Dammit Jungkook, why won’t you listen? I knew we would never work out.” 

Jungkook itches to hold you, and comfort you. Instead he sticks by the doorknob, feeling true to his findings. After all, the evidence is all in your notebook. While hard to decipher, it’s clear as day that you always knew a lot more than you’ve led on. He wants to ask more, but he’s far too hurt to continue tonight. 

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he whispers, and slams the door to your bedroom shut. 

Your body gives out, and you feel two tons heavier as you sink into your uncomfortable desk chair. Jungkook’s gone. Your heart’s not so much broken, but you feel awful for getting him mixed up into this. Seeing the betrayal and pain in his eyes is heartbreaking, especially coming from you, someone who doesn’t even belong here. 

The whole room seems to be suffocating you, swallowing you whole. A shelf filled with medical textbooks and science jargon. A corkboard filled with pictures of your friends and family, all memories that don’t belong to you. This isn’t your life. 

You need to get out of here, now. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1, four months before. 

Namjoon is sitting between Jungkook and you, like two children and a parent having to intervene. Only this time, you two are being child-like adults and Namjoon is taking up all the leg space sitting in the middle of the back row. 

Jungkook feels like he’s being squeezed through the open window, Namjoon refusing to adjust to his equally large size. He glares over his shoulder, finding you are paying no mind. He scoffs when he sees you nuzzled up against Namjoon’s blazer, babbling like a brook because you’re too wasted to form coherent sentences. 

“What were you going to achieve by doing that, huh?” Namjoon’s voice is devastatingly low, not bothering to look at the younger man. 

He sighs, letting the night breeze tickle his loose strands as he recalls what he did do. It’s all too clear on his end. Entering the bar was easy, after a few rounds with the gang Jungkook decided it was time to mingle. It doesn’t take long for a pretty girl to slide up next to him, with practiced ease finding her way to slot herself between his stretched out legs. And he let her. 

And you? You were livid, of course. He could practically feel the burn of your gaze singing at the back of his head. But you weren’t going to cause a scene, instead you favored Taehyung’s inability to relent and inhiberation to the highest degree. 

Which is why you’re all going home early, before it got too messy. 

Jungkook doesn’t answer in the quiet car, but your soft sobs do. 

You probably haven’t even registered that Jungkook is in the same vehicle. After all, they had to haul your deadweight into the seat because you could barely walk. 

“Why, wh-why Joonie?” your voice is muffled by the thick fabric of Namjoon’s tweed overcoat, nails digging into the seams. 

“Why what, bub?” 

“Why doesn’t he want me?” 

Jungkook’s throat clenches. 

“He’s just stupid,” Jungkook feels dumb, listening to Namjoon and you speak as if they’re all not pressed up against each other like skinny sardines in a too-hot van. “Not to be intrusive, but the two of you are in a complicated relationship.” 

You hum in agreement, your previous drunkenness mellowing out and turning into a tired haze. When you finally arrive at the apartment complex, Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to be the one to carry you upstairs. He barely gives Jungkook the opportunity as he sweeps you into his arms, making the way to your room. Jungkook follows the both of you like a stubborn duckling. 

When Namjoon manages to get the door unlocked, he turns to Jungkook. “You should go up with everyone else. Don’t bother coming in here unless you’re gonna apologize.” 

The door is wide open, and Namjoon straightens up as you float away to your bathroom, insisting you can wobble your way to get your makeup and clothes off. Jungkook tries his best to look confident in front of his elder, steeling his features. 

“I’ll apologize, you go up first.” 

Namjoon pulls his wristwatch out, “You got fifteen minutes. You can’t stay here tonight.” 

Jungkook flinches when he coolly brushes past him, slamming the door on his way out. He then busies himself in your small kitchenette, finding your favorite Hello Kitty mug and pouring you a glass of water. He places aspirin and the water next to your bedside table, ready when you need it. 

It’s been ten minutes since then, and he’s running out of time. Standing in front of your bathroom, he makes a move to knock. No answer. He can’t hear the water running, or faint lo-fi hip hop that you always liked to listen to before getting ready for bed. 

Taking a chance, he turns the knob only to find it unlocked. You’re sitting on the floor, knees hugged and only in a long t-shirt. 

“You can go,” you mumble into your knees, not wanting to make eye contact. “I’m fine.” 

Instead he fits himself into your bathroom, sitting next to you. You don’t bother to move and make room, so Jungkook has to squish himself to fit. “Listen, pretty girl–” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

He sighs, “I’m sorry. I was being a dick and you don’t deserve that. I disregarded our feelings and that isn’t fair to either of us.” 

“I said it was fine,” he sees how hard you’re glaring at the tile on your wall, nothing interesting but your eyes are ablaze. “I know why you did it.” 

He stays silent. 

“You want to push me away before we get hurt,” you state, “but you don’t get to decide that on your own, Jungkook. I’ll give you time, but don’t wag yourself in front of my face like I’m some shameless puppy begging for attention,” you get up shakily, and you hold out a hand in refusal to Jungkook’s immediate reaction, “it’s either all of me or none of me.” 

And for the second time that night the door slams in Jungkook’s face, forcing himself to make a decision. 

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 26 - Hellbent

I've been hellbent, baby

Hellbent on loving you all day long

Hellbent on drugs cause they turn you on

Don't know what else to do

They pulled along the side of the road, having fled from the terrors of the mansion. None of them were sure what to make of the whole thing, most certainly the blonde that seemed to become the ghost’s primary target. He didn’t know who the ghost was, so why was it coming after him with such vengeance? What had he done to this ghost? Was it possible the specter was making some kind of mistake? Maybe mistaking him for someone else?

Vivi seemed just as confused as he was. Sure, she had all the knowledge about this field, but even with all that, she couldn’t come to a conclusion. If he were a wraith, or some other kind of vengeful spirit, then he would be chasing after someone that likely had to do with his death.

Since when did peaceful, coward Arthur even have the capacity to kill anyone?

It was impossible.

Both of them did their best not to worry about it. They were away from the building, having glanced back for enough time to see it vanishing from the lot. If the ghost wasn’t coming after them, then they could afford a little time to catch their breath before getting back on the road. Vivi pulled out the smaller bedroll, setting up to get some sleep. The blonde watched her, resting along the bumper of the van. Both the back doors were open, his back pressed against the left side. Amber eyes fell on his friend, watching her drift to sleep before he pulled his laptop into his lap. She’d probably be yelling at him to get some sleep otherwise. At the very least he needed to make sure he updated their map.

Then he could do a check on the van and get them back to Tempo. They weren’t too far away from him. The search for Lewis could take a small break to make sure the bluenette was taking care of herself. He didn’t really matter.

Mmm, I've been hellbent, baby

Hellbent on making you love me too

Even though not what I'm 'sposed to do

I don't give a damn, mmm

Arthur couldn’t help but stare at the head of the ghost head he drew as an icon for the map. He found himself looking between this icon and the ones he made for Lewis. It hurt him to see the similarities between the two of them, even making him feel a little sick. Lewis couldn’t be dead. He was just missing. His best friend was lost, and he was going to bring him back home… no matter what it took.

Laptop closed, pushed to the side, tools grabbed, and creeper dragged to the front of the van. It wouldn’t hurt to get a look at the underside while he was still up. Vivi and Mystery could look after themselves for a few minutes. It’s not like they were in any danger right now. Given that fact, and that he wouldn’t allow for even the smallest mistake, it gave him all the time he would need.

Once it was all taken care of, everything was carefully placed in the back, rear doors shut, and the blonde made his way to the front seat. In a brief moment of panic, he pressed himself against the shut door, Mystery sitting up front with him rather than in the back. Deep down, he hated this feeling. There was no reason to fear the dog before, but now there was. A nervous tick caused his hand to clutch at the metal wrist.

Mystery was ignoring him. His attention was on a single flower petal. Strange…

Why did he look so scared?

Swallowing his fear, the blonde found all the courage he had, bringing his remaining, real hand over towards the dog, feeling his fingers move through that strange hair. He could see a smile move along the dog’s muzzle, just as his head turned to press more into Arthur’s hand. That was all he needed to set all his current worries at ease.

They were getting on the road again.

Then the van was losing power.

Angry eyes appearing in the rear view window.

A magenta and black truck speeding toward them!

I've been hellbent, baby

I've been hellbent, baby

So much was happening so fast. First his arm short circuits, then he pushes the van to the fastest speed it could go, and finds that not even a tunnel could stop this thing from chasing after them. As if that wasn’t bad enough, now there was some strange blue lady on the front of the van, bashing the glass with… scissors? Who carried around oversized scissors as a weapon? And for the cherry on top of it all, Vivi had managed to knock herself out with own bat at the start of the chase.

Arthur was quite literally on his own for this one, but what was he supposed to do? The only priority he could see was getting away from the truck. What was he supposed to do about their hood riding attacker? He couldn’t do anything. The one hand he had remaining had to be used to drive!

Then the tire pops. The grinding of metal filled his ears.

Their blue attacker was thrown off, but now he was stuck trying to control a vehicle that was out of control. The blockade at a gap in the guard rail was easily taken out, the appearance of Kingsmen Mechanics coming overhead. They were going to-

CRASH.

It's been too long, baby

It's been too long, baby

How long was he lying against the dashboard? The last thing he remembered before everything started going black was the red of brick filling his vision. He supposed he should be lucky he hadn’t gone flying through the open window. He must have been able to turn the van enough that the crash sent him in a different direction other than forward.

But he couldn’t just lay here in darkness. What about Mystery? What about Vivi? He had to make sure they were alright. With Lewis missing, it was his job to look out for them. That’s what his best friend would have wanted. He just had to push himself up with his arm. Get up.

Get up.

My eyes wide shut

My eyes wide shut

He hadn’t felt himself being dragged out of the van, though the first thing he was made aware of when his eyes opened was that he could see the whole van. Outside? How did he get here? Did Mystery or Vivi somehow get him out? Maybe his uncle did… as they were still at Kingsmen Mechanics. If his uncle was still here late, then maybe he was able to get the blonde out before the truck got here first.

But one look to his side told him otherwise.

There was the ghost from the mansion, tightly gripping the front of his shirt.

Arthur could swear if his eyes got any wider they would pop out of their sockets. A shriek was the only thing he could think to have escaped from his mouth. With his gaze so focused on the ghost, he could see the subtle change in expression along his skull. He seemed almost… concerned? Confused? It was a little hard to tell when he was scared out of his wits. How much he wanted to be as far away from this as possible. Better yet, he needed to just make sure the other two were alright.

And I feel your touch

And I feel your touch

Too bad the ghost had other plans.

One toss was all it took for Arthur to fall into darkness again. At least this time he wasn’t knocked out. He was very aware he was falling down into something. This couldn’t have been the back of a semi-truck if he was falling down this far. Screams poured out of his mouth, metal limb dangling at his side. He could feel himself landing on something, something hard.

Where was he? There was no light.

He could feel one thing under his hand. Carpet? In a truck? None of this was making any sense. His head turned up to the sight of a small purple light floating towards him. It was just like the same light that made its way to the candles in the mansion. This time though, it seemed to split, the small purple ghosts with yellow hearts forming. His body trembled, immediately pushing himself to his feet.

He didn’t waste any time waiting around. He dashed for the opening in the… cave? When there was a split in the path, he began to head down the right path… only to be blocked off by more of those ghosts. With another startled yelp, he turned for the left opening, finding himself spinning his arm at the edge of a cliff. He managed to get his balance. A sigh released.

Then a grip once more on his shirt. He was lifted into the air, his hand moving up to grab onto the ghost’s arm. His feet kicked in the air, eyes staring down at the spires resting beneath him. A yelp, his metal arm finally getting enough movement to also rest on the arm, terrified eyes staring at the one chasing him all this way. Flames covered over his skull, and when they died down, the blonde felt like he might cry. A familiar face was staring back at him.

Oh, and I'll prove you wrong

Oh, and I'll prove you wrong

“Lewis?”

He wasn’t being held up anymore.

You make me strong

You make me strong

Shock filled his mind. The one determined to get him, that showed no qualms about causing him and his friends harm, was the very person he had been searching for all this time. Why? He just wanted to understand why. What had he done that caused Lewis to hate him this much? Did he not try hard enough to find him? Should have done more sooner? Just…

Why?

I said all I need is

All I need is

All I need is

All I need is you

Pain struck him in the back, then heat raced through his chest. Coughs were released into the air, blood pouring down to the ground and from his mouth. He had no where to look but up. He was going to die here… wasn’t he?

He could see a familiar skull come into view. Somehow… Arthur managed a smile on his face. He reached up for the ghost, surprised when the black hand wrapped around it. His tone was so low, “L-Lewis.. I found you.. I finally… found you…”

He did it… he brought Lewis home… no matter what…

Lewis was shaking, feeling the heat leave his friend’s hand.

He did it… he got his revenge… no matter what...

[ambrial-blog]

The Serpent’s Mate Part 1.

It had been two weeks, two- long and restless weeks since their return from the human realm. 

THERE WAS NO ESCAPING THEM. No matter how hard Blitzo tried, he just couldn't outrun those horrific parodies that followed him into his dreams, chasing away any remnants of sleep. While his mate stirred beside him, Striker had grown increasingly worried about him in the time he had been home. Night after night, the sun-kissed serpent had stood by his side, rubbing his back, waiting for the nightmares to ebb. Blitz flinches in his sleep, shrinking away from his touch. His eyes suddenly pop open, his breathing is hitched. Someone is on top of him, shaking him and calling his name. The guff country drawl echoes in his head. As his body trembles, he clutches his ears, trying to drown out the voices. 

'Blitz, Blitz, can you hear me" Striker calls frantically, fighting to keep Blitz down. 

Striker's voice continued to blend, overlapping with the Boss imp's waking nightmare. Blitz fought him using all of his strength. Seeing the crazed eyes, hearing the high-pitched voice berates him from above. 

"Worthless spec of mud, you don't want to do anything alone. BlitzO - But you are alone, you drive everyone you love away, with your selfishness... too afraid.. the only use I have for your darling, is breeding with you so we can usher in the next generation of superior imps..... . Blitzy...... 

"Shut up, shut up. Shut up," growls Blitz reaching out and wrapping his hands around Striker's neck. 

"It's the truth, sugar-cube..... 

Striker's eyes are wide as Blitz continues to choke him, his claws digging into his neck, his eyes an off-color of amber- all Blitz can see is the swirling mud and those laughing eyes. 

"Sugar-cube..... Striker chokes as Blitz finely open his eyes in horror at what he is doing. He was quick to let go as fear pounded in his heart. He looked at his hands in disbelief at what he had just done. 

Blitz topples off the bed, stumbling back, his blurry eyes lacking focus as he ambles towards the door. Striker tail lashes out from underneath the covers gripping Blitz's hand and leading him back to bed. The country imp stares down into the glossy eyes of his mate. 

"It was just a nightmare Blitz, it wasn't real, can you hear me sugar-cube" Striker's voice held the tell-tale signs of panic and fear. He could feel Blitz's shake underneath him. 

"Let me go, Striker, Blitz hisses, trying to move, but the snake has him pinned underneath him. 

"Not until, you calm down, your acting like a scared colt, Blitzy what's wrong do you want to talk about it?" 

Blitz just shakes his head, but his arms are pinned down at his side, and Striker is straddling his waist. 

'Not until you calm down," Striker repeats. "And I have all night, darling, to figure out what's bothering you," Striker reassures, cupping Blitz's cheek. 

Blitz drinks too much coffee like he is desperately trying to stave off sleep. There is always a cup, or a mug of steaming coffee clasped, tightly in his hand- like it is his lifeline. At the morning meetings that Striker is rarely there due to prior obligations. Blitz is a mess zoning out and then brushing it off when either Moxie or Millie asks what is wrong.

Moxie keeps an eye out for Blitz while they are on missions, reporting anything he found as peculiar to the Goeitic prince- and he found a lot of things strange these days.

It was Moxie's fault they got captured, to begin with- it was his fault, the truth-seekers- got the information that they did. And maybe it was his guilt-ridden conscious that kept the data away from the snake-imp.

At night Striker crushes sleeping pills into Blitz's coffee, returning an hour later to see Blitz passed out at his desk coffee spilled out across important clientele documents, his finger pressed up against the coffee buzzer. The Assassin looked around at the mess figuring Blitz had caught on to what he was doing and was attempting to get somebody's attention. He disregarded the frayed documents that littered the desk. The imp from wrath didn't give a crap about it. It was a dead-end job to him, though Blitz had made an effort to include Striker in the meetings. Moxie always talked over him, puffing up his chest and trying to one-up the Cowboy, still sour at how Striker wanted to strangle him back on the farm. It was impressive that Blitz had started a business all on his own, saving up enough money from his days in Loo-Loo land- then putting Loo-Loo land in the rearview mirror.

But now, it was just plain pathetic the lengths Blitz was willing to go to sustain IMP, let it fall, and from those ashes, "Homicidal Husbands" would arise after Striker took IMP, to the cleaners wringing out their finances on Blitz's behalf.

Striker wasn't the sharing type. If he saw something he liked, he took it. He was a possessive bastard conniving and treacherous but always wanted the best for Blitz without any regard for anyone else. Being the dominant one, it was the Cowboy's right as Blitz's mate to protect his submissive even if it was against himself.

The Outlaw growls at Loony, his eyes overshadowed by his cowboy hat, seeing the steaming mug of coffee in her hands as she appears in the doorway. Picking Blitz up, he headed for the stairwell.

"Loony, be a good girl and clean up this mess for me, before I tell your daddy that it was you who drugged his coffee," Spoke Striker before disappearing up the stairs with Blitz. 

Loony shivered at the ice-cold malice in Striker's voice and the chill in his glare before fleeing to her room, Only to get on the phone a moment later with Moxie and Octavia after shutting, locking, and bolting her door.

Something was unsettling in those eyes. It felt like Striker was plotting against them, then working for them- half the time. But Blitz was sure Striker had their best interests at heart. But ever since Blitz returned, Loony could see the shift in his personality. Which at first, she had chalked up to too much coffee. Now, reared its ugly head, his scent was off, and there was a tangible walking around imp headquarters in a pair of cowboy boots and spurs. 

And she was damn sure that Striker had plans of his own because why would a mate come out of the woodwork's of Blitzo's past without him mentioning something before?. It didn't add up to the teenager.

Meanwhile, Moxie was at a loss for words when he came in one morning to see Striker at Blitzo's desk, his feet cross-crossed, leaning back in a chair with his hands behind his head. His eyes were closed. The anger within the Cowboy simmered behind closed eyelids. It was clear to Moxie that the snake imp had sifted through a pile of finances. Striker's demonic gaze fell upon him.

"Close the door, Possum I'm speaking on behalf of Blitz now, the Boss man, needed some downtime, So I obliged him by coming in today." 

"I don't like where this is going," Moxie stammered, closing the door.

"Relax, I'm not gonna skin ya, vermin."

The Outlaw had been away on business, cementing a few kills and collecting data on a few higher-ups that he would put on his black-list

When he returned home, he didn't know what the fuck had happened. All he knew was that everyone was keeping secrets from him, and Blitz was missing. When he had left, he had made sure everything was running smoothly. Blitz was his up-beat self getting ready for another killing spree.

Kissing Striker and telling him it would be as easy as drowning puppies in the river. Then, the next thing he knew, he was getting a call from an agitated possum who sounded like he had lost a bet. Saying that they were home, but Blitz was not. That Blitz had returned to the Goetic mansion to reward Stolas. Stella cleared things up and painted a picture that had Striker foaming at the mouth.

Striker's molten yellow eyes swirled with all the probabilities that might have Blitz running to Stolas instead of him. Stalking towards the door, he punched a hole right through it before entering the brisk night in an attempt to clear his head.

What is Satan's name that had happened? In the time it had taken Blitz to complete a simple in and out job, he had disappeared. Only then, to wrench the invisible knife sticking out his gut. Only to be found hours later and rescued by that miserable owl. 

Within minutes Striker had Moxie spilling the beans about that night, the horrible acid trip, trapped within the human realm with no way home. The strenuous torturous they had gone through and the truth serum and the effects it had on them. 

The Outlaw was not impressed. 

"Satan Dammit!, why wasn't I there? Then I could have avoided this entire mess." Growled Striker punching a brick wall over and over until his knuckles bled. Tears blinded his vision as he sunk to his knees. A picture flutters out of his jacket and lands in some garbage water near an open dumpster.

The Outlaw was quick to fish it out and looks at it in fondness. It was a picture of Blitz and Bombproof, back on Millie's farm Blitz on top of Bombproof. that stubborn horse had refused to leave the ranch after the confrontation and the botched assassination attempt of the Goetic prince. The damn horse wouldn't let Blitz off him- he had even ridden away from Striker when he tried to hop on. 

"Too slow cowboy" Blitz cackled.

Bombproof snickered as he played keep-away with his rider.

Striker had run, halfway across wrath: on stead, he had borrowed from Lin and Joe to catch up with them. The Outlaw took a ragged breath tracing Blitzo's face in the picture, now his partner wouldn't even look at him, and that fire in Blitzo's eyes was almost extinguished. Striker had to resort to some underhanded tricks to get his mate to sleep- and later, when Blitz finely caught onto who was actually drugging him and what he was doing, he had to bribe Loony.

"I'll rip them apart with my bare hands," growls Striker. "One thing was for sure, those assholes who had done this to his mate, their days were numbered if Stolas wasn't going to help him, he knew one Goeita that would. If only to get Blitz out of her home and be the sole heir to the Goetia fortune. 

That bitch was cold, calculating, and ruthless. Something Striker admired in her even if he was just using her to get what he wanted.

Fizzouali might've had his issues with Blitz in the past, especially burning down Loo-Loo land. But to see him like this, jumping at shadows on the walls. Skittering about. In hindsight, it might have had something to do with all that coffee he consumed. But there was a bitter-broken-hardheartedness about him. that made Fizzouali want to hug him- and never let go.

To be a fly on the wall and get to see Striker, the lone Assassin, slip into the palace wall and pluck some feathers from that ditsy blue blood- oh, he had heard about the fight- the whole ring of pride had heard about that fight. 

Striker had just about enough of hearing of the honesty-induced acid-trip and seeing Blitz crumple before him, hearing him scream! Night after night, nightmare after nightmare. Striker grips Blitz and starts to shake him, calling his name and pleading with him to open his eyes. Only to have fierce amber eyes pop open in fear, to feel his mate tremble beneath him as he tries to peel away only to stumble into the kitchen a moment later in search of an early morning coffee.

It was the last straw. This was all too much for the snake imp. IMP had seen its final days' Striker would keep Blitz home. It was for his own good, Striker told himself as he waited outside the shower to ambush Blitz with a rag soaked in chloroform. Rest was what he needed.

The former ranch hand had kept telling himself.

Blitzo pauses standing in a steam-covered room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He wiped the moisture from the mirror in time to see Striker lurking in the door. He was leaning against it, blocking the imp's fast retreat.

"I canceled all your meetings today, Blitzy, I even called the possum and said you wouldn't be in today."

"You did what?" Blitz screamed at the mirror. 

It infuriated the Outlaw to be shunned by his mate. The look on Blitzo's face as he trapped him underneath him, his tail massaging Blitzo's thigh, it was their thing, or at least it used to be. The eerie trepidation in Blitz's movement as he tried to sneak past the snake imp. Only to have the seasoned Killer grabbing him by the waist and throwing him onto the bed. Covering his mouth with a cloth. He fought off Blitzo's hands, holding them above his head.

"Striker, stop! What the fuck do you think you're doing? Blitz growled with a feral hiss. Craning his neck away from the drug-riddled cloth that inched closer to his face. 

The Cowboy had gotten so starved for Blitz's affection that he was willing to take it any way he could. He punched Blitz in the stomach; gripping his head, he covered his mouth with a drugged, soaked rag and waited. 

Blitz wheezed, crying into the cloth. Tears matted his eyes as he reached up, gripping Striker's arm. 

Blitz's hand slid off his bicep as he shut his eyes. Striker watched his mate slip peacefully into slumber for the first time in weeks. The Outlaw had spent weeks sleeping in an empty bed, while Blitz sought comfort elsewhere. 

The dull ache in his chest crippled him. As the mating mark seared his skin, he gritted his teeth against the pain as he thought about Blitz being unfaithful. 

The Outlaw leaned over, whispering into Blitz's ear. "I'm done, done with it all. I'm willing to fight for you, Blitzy, ready to take you back."

"I'll splatter the walls with his blood, then make you lick it off the walls, I'll have you begging for forgiveness." 

Heck, the way he was feeling that night, the whole Ares Goeita bloodline was in danger, all for the love of a bit of devil. An imp with a damaged heart.

Blitz awoke with a start, early that morning as remnants of a dream started to trickle away, he could feel Striker spooning him from behind, feel the weight of his head resting on the crook of Blitz's neck as the soft trickle of breath ran down his spine. It felt like ages since they were like this, bodies intertwined, tails loosely lapsed together.

"Too bad this couldn't last," he thought, his back growing rigid: His body throbbed and ached with a new mark, appearing on his inner thigh. The Outlaw pulled him closer to his mud-slacked body. 

Pressed up against a growing erection, Stryker moaned in his ear, his voice a high-pitched parody of his own his swirling eyes took him in, rubbing his body against Blitz. 

"The only use I have for you, Darlin, is breeding. I wish you could see yourself BlitzO, a hot mess unable to tell reality from fantasy. No matter, I don't care if you are damaged on the inside or not. All I care about is what's on the outside. Stryker hissed, ripping open his clothes and bending down to kiss his stomach. Even here, where they cannot reach you, you still have a purpose. Stryker flipped Blitz onto his stomach, rimming his finger around Blitz's hole, scissoring him open with his fingers. Keeping pressure on his neck and Blitz's face pressed into the pillow as he slid in. Blitz thrashed, clawing at the sheets, his voice hoarse as Stryker gripped his horns and rode him. 

Blitz gasped as he bucked into Striker's touch, as the hand down his pants kneaded him, his eyes flickered behind closed eyelids as Striker held his arms down at his side, trying to wake up the imp beside him. Goosebumps ran down his spine, his eyes shooting open, gazing up at the shirtless Cowboy hovering above him with a worried look on his face. 

"Sleep well Darlin." spoke Striker caressing Blitz. His body trembled at his touch, his mouth opened, but no words came out. He made a move to get out of bed, his rear end throbbing. He crumpled to the floor, blood staining his pants. 

The Outlaw was out of bed, quick as lighting and at Blitz's side cupping his head. 

“Please-no! No, more Stryker” 

Swallowing thickly, unsure of what to do, he wrapped an arm around Blitz's waist, hauling him up and towards the bathroom. He would call Moxie as soon as he drew a bath for Blitz. But if he had to be honest with himself, he wasn't even sure he wanted to do that. Blood was coming from somewhere. That frightful look on Blitz's face was directed at him, and the way he said his name sent shivers down his spine. 

He held him by the shoulders as he tried to sprint for the door; Striker held him tight as he turned on the faucet in the bath. "Blitzy can you hear me, I'm going to take off your clothes darlin, and than I'm going to put you in hot water, everything is going to be alright," Striker reassured him. He rubbed the mark he had given Blitz, trying to get the imp to smile.

"will find a way around this, Boss-man, hopefully without Goeita interference."

The bathtub bubbled. It wasn't as big as Stolas's, but it was both deep and inviting, built for two. Placing Blitz on the lip of the tub, Striker slid off his pants, locking the door before slipping into the hot soapy waters. Blitz stared at his mate, cocking his head to the side at the tumbled in, Striker catching him as he fell. It was getting harder and harder to tell Striker from Stryker. Blitz knew he couldn't keep this up. That if he kept going the way he was going, to end up blacking out and putting in danger someone he cared about. Striker took a scrubby and began washing Blitz's back, placing his nails around the grooves he found on Blitz's back.

It was a perfect match, but he didn't remember scratching Blitz, not to the point where he cried out of pain.

Everything was coming back to the week; Blitz had gone missing, Striker buries his face into Blitz's back.

"Blitzy, I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me, that you had to depend on the Goeita filth , overlord slaying can wait, sugar-cube I need to take care of you first." 

The wrangler had felt sick to his stomach. Something was attacking his mate and using his face to do it; whatever it was, it originated in the human realm. 

This only solidified his resolve to put an end to IMP and do the same with Stolas.