#problem is I don't know who it's for and I haven't even MET half the possible recipients

[thisisaheist]

Is anyone else just really, really bad a gift giving?

The amount of times someone's gotten me a very thoughtful gift, an absolutely perfect gift... and I've just panicked and bought them a mug, chocolates, alcohol, or some kind of mug/chocolates/alcohol combo is riddiculous.

[calthinez]

Pink, Sweet smelling dust

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: While on a witch hunt, you and Dean get some sort of dust thrown on you. After Dean ganks her, you two high-tail it to the bunker thinking the worst. Turns out that witch got her dusts mixed up and hit you guys with an aphrodisiac.

A/N: I heart Dean Winchester. The relationship between the two of you is unspecified and its implied that this is the first time you guys are having sex. I love the sex pollen au :P

Warnings: NSFW(18+) car sex, rough sex, unprotected sex

Your heart was beating so fast. You could figure out if it was from the fear of what was to come from that dust, or if it was from the dust. Looking up at Dean, he seems to be taking this a lot better than you, or he was at least pretending to.

The two of you were fast-paced walking to the Impala, not even caring to clean up the mess that was made. "Your heart beating fast, too?" You asked, voice laced with worry.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. We'll be fine." Dean said as he fished his car keys out of his pockets. You couldn't tell if he actually believed that, though, or if he was just trying to make you feel better. The hunt was going fine right up until she blew pink, sweet smelling dust into your faces. "What the fuck was that?" Dean had yelled at her. She only gave him a dry laugh in response with a suspenseful "You'll see"

Dean had no hesitation when he shot her in the chest, only checking to make sure she was actually dead before grabbing you and high- tailing to the car.

Once the two of you got in the car Dean wasted no time putting the key in the ignition. You barely had time to buckle your seat belt before he sped off, causing the dirt on the road to fly into the air. Even with Dean going thirty over the speed limit, the car ride is at least half an hour long. You have no idea how your going to survive that, especially with the growing ache between your legs.

The only thing you can think about is your doomed fate. There was no time-limit on how long this would take before it ends the both of you. For all you know it would take only a minute.

Dean notices the anxiousness spread all across your face. He reaches his hand over the comfortingly pats your knee. You realize hes trying to make you feel less scared but you suddenly become hyper-aware of your body and how hot you feel.

Its just his hand on my knee. You think to yourself. There's no reason to get all excited from that.

He leaves his hand on your knee, and all you can think about now is where else he could put his hands. On your thighs? On your chest? In your mouth? Inside of you- You shudder and close your eyes tightly at that thought.

Its not that you haven't thought about Dean like that, you were sure just about everyone who met him has. You just never had it take such a big effect on you especially when you're right next to him.

Dean takes your shudder as a shudder of anxiety, so he trails his hand up ever so slightly and presses his fingers into the skin of your thigh.

The only sound in the car is the humming from the engine, none of Deans usual songs playing. At a time like this, you wish the radio was on to distract you.

You stick out your tongue to wet your dry lips. Deans hand that isn't on your thigh is gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are turning white. His movements are stiff and his eyes are locked on the road, not sparing you a glance. You wonder if he has the same problem as you, if he also has an ache between his legs. You quickly glance down to his pants and see that, yes, he does have the same problem, the large tent in his pants being painfully obvious.

Dean turns his head immediately to you when you let out a little whimper at the sight of his bulge. You avoid eye contact, desperately staring out of the car window.

"You okay?" he asks you, his gruff voice adding to the fire in your belly.

"Yup," you squeak out. What is this man doing to you? You can hardly think straight.

Dean doesn't believe you, not in the slightest. It takes a minute for the gears in his head to turn before he realizes; you feel the same way he does. He originally chocked it up to you being scared, but he knows that is not the case. Dean slides his hand up higher on your thigh, you suck in a quick breath at the feeling.

"You sure?" He asks you with an underlying tone of arousal. You look back to him as you angle your leg to lean towards his body. "Mhm." You mumble out.

The fingers on your upper thigh slowly creep to the junction of your hip and thigh, there Dean rubs small circles into your flesh. His touch is lighting you on fire. Your breathing picks up and the ache between your legs rapidly intensifies.

On the old dirt roads Dean pulls off to the side, stopping close to the trees that line the road. He puts the car in park and turns off the vehicle. There was no cars on the road this late at night, It was just you two.

"You feel it too?" He asks you, just incase this is actually just one big coincidence and he read into it too much.

You nod your head yes and unbuckle your seat belt, Dean does the same. There is a pregnant pause where the both of you just look at each other, unsure of what to do. You cannot take this feeling anymore, though. You almost pounce on Dean. You crash your lips against his as his hand come up to hold your jaw in place. The kiss is messy, unsynchronized with teeth bumping against teeth and tongues sloppily licking at each other's mouth.

Dean uses his free hand to push you back onto the flat seat of the car. It's a good thing that the car has the big bench seats or else this would be a lot more uncomfortable. You're now laying down under Dean, his hand roughly grabbing at your boobs. You moan into the kiss.

Dean roughly pulls down your pants, leaving you in just your panties. All embarrassment you might have had has been overshadowed by your need to be fucked by Dean. You bring your hand down to grip Deans hard cock through his pants, he lets out a hoarse moan at the friction. You make work on unbuttoning his pants and also pulling them down.

Skipping all foreplay it seems you both feel like you'll explode if you aren't fucking as soon as possible, hell, you actually might. You pull down Deans boxers just low enough for you to free his cock. You jerk him a few times before he breaks the kiss. "Can I fuck you?" He says, you're literally jerking him off but he just wants to make sure. Ever the gentleman.

You enthusiastically nod your head up and down, giving him the go-ahead.

He takes his cock in his own hand and uses his other hand to push your panties to the side, allowing him access to your wet pussy. He pushed into you, both of you releasing pent up moans. His cock is big, and you barely have anytime to adjust to his size before he roughly grabs your hips with both of his hands and starts thrusting into you.

Dean leans down to your neck to kiss and suck on your pulse point as you're moaning sweet praises to him, urging him to keep going. The windows start to fog up from both of your heavy breaths being released. Its an erotic scene, thats for sure. The both of you in the front seat fucking like you're depraved.

There's definitely going to be bruises on your hips, you think to yourself. You lock your legs around Deans torso. Deans moans are like music to your ears, going straight to your impending orgasm. Your nails scratch at his back.

"Fuck- I'm close." You moan out into Deans ear.

"Yeah me too, sweetheart." His pace never relents, though, even with his orgasm quickly approaching. If anything it speeds up.

You can feel the coil in your belly tighten like no other time before. Your hands are grasping and clawing at Deans shoulders as your back arches, pushing your chest to his.

The coil in your belly snaps hard. Harder than any time before. You screw your eyes shut and loudly cry out as you cum around Deans cock.

It takes Dean no time to be cumming, as well. He cums inside of you, not that you care you're too fucked out to be thinking about anything other than your orgasm.

You slowly release your legs' hold on Deans waist. The both of you trying to catch your breath from your climax. He slowly pulls out of you and tucks himself back into his pants. Dean sits back up-right on the seat and you follow suit. You fix your panties and pull your pants up.

The both of you just sit in silence for a moment, collecting your thoughts. You notice that you no longer feel anxious or ill, like the sex completly cured you... Oh. You think you figured it out. You open your mouth to say someting to the man next to you but he beats you to it.

"I think it was a sex powder."

[heavyhitterheaux]

Safety Net

See Me Through You Series

I've never been this scared before

Feelings I just can't ignore

Don't know if I should fight or fly

But I don't mind

Synopsis: Falling for someone else while you were still in a committed relationship was not supposed to be in the cards for you

Series Masterlist

A sigh left your mouth as you looked down at your phone and you rolled your eyes when you saw it was none other than your boyfriend Trevor. It had damn near fell off the table from the vibration and you watched it until it stopped ringing.

It had to be the tenth time that he called you today and it was the tenth time that you had ignored him. It seemed as if you and your boyfriend were arguing more than usual and it was honestly the last thing you wanted to deal with. There seemed to be a shift when you had gotten accepted to LSU and you applied there to be near him since he was a year older than you and you honestly had no clue what his problem was. He asked you specifically to do it and you were all for it. If you knew then how it would be, you probably would have applied elsewhere.

Any time you tried asking him about how he was feeling or if something was wrong since it seemed like there was, all you got was an attitude in return. He would pick fights for no reason, you would get upset and not talk to him while he went on to beg for your forgiveness when it was all said and done. The latest fight had been about how you wanted to stay in and have a study date instead of going out for date night when he knew that you had a test the next day that was a big percentage of your grade seeing as there weren't a lot of assignments to begin with for that particular class. Of course he told you no, and you left it at that.

Being your first semester, you had taken on a lot more than you could handle and you were now feeling the effects seeing as you were about a month and a half in. Last night you went to one of LSU's home football games because not only did Ja'Marr beg you to come, but Joe did also and was out until damn near four in the morning.

You could tell that he was getting more comfortable being a starter and they had been playing amazing. It was now Sunday night and you were trying to make up for lost time when your phone vibrated once again at your desk. Except, an instant smile came upon your face when you saw who it was and quickly answered.

“Joey…”

“Princess, why haven't I seen you yet? I thought you were coming tonight.” He asked you without giving a proper greeting. You could hear a bunch of commotion in the background and you simply assumed he was at another party.

Ever since the two of you met that first day in the gym, the nickname princess had stuck.

“Uh? Coming where? I was literally out with you, Ja'Marr and Justin until FOUR in the morning. I was UNWELL. I couldn't even see anymore by the time I got home.” You expressed and all you heard was his laugh. In your head you imagined that he was probably shaking his head too.

“Couldn't see anymore? Really? Now that's dramatic, even for you.”

“Excuse me!? Look, all I know is my eyes were red and my contacts were dry as hell and the THREE OF YOU kidnapped me.”

“Well I'm about to kidnap you again. At least for a few hours.”

“I have another EXAM to study for, sir. You got to have me all last night.” You told him as you had taken out your highlighters from your pencil case and set them on your desk.

“And? I want to have you all night again. But I promise not to have you out that late.” Joe told you and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

At this rate, Joe spent more time with you than your actual boyfriend and actually wanted you to be around him. He was always down to have a study session with you unlike Trevor.

“Hmm, what time did you plan on having me out until?”

“Three give or take.”

“JOEY that is literally only a one hour difference!” You exclaimed as you shook your head in disbelief.

“You don't take your exam until later in the week! I've helped you study and you're going to be fine. Come on, I want to see you. I forgot what you looked like and I need a reminder to be in person.”

“You are such a hot ass mess and you have been around my brother too long because that sounds like exactly something he would say. Take a picture next time.”

“I could take one tonight if you let me see that pretty face of yours.”

With a deep sigh and a groan escaping your lips, you finally gave in.

“I'm ignoring that last part.”

“Why? I called you pretty and it's a compliment.” Joe asked, suddenly confused.

“And I'm not single, which you already knew.”

“Hmm, at least not yet. But I'll patiently wait my turn.”

You were glad that it wasn't a facetime call because your jaw had literally dropped and it took you a second to close your mouth.

It was quiet for a few seconds and Joe had to make sure that you didn't hang up.

“Princess, you still there?” Joe asked and the music in the background distracted you for a second.

“Just text me the address.”

“Can't wait to see you, gorgeous. Text me when you're outside.”

As soon as you hung up, Joe sent you the address and then you went to ransack your closet to find something to wear. Looking through your closet, not only was your mind racing, but your heart was too.

Joe had a crush on you, that much was obvious but the last thing you wanted to happen was for it to suddenly be awkward between the two of you. Why did you suddenly get butterflies when he's around, but when it comes to Trevor you felt absolutely nothing? You were nervous that it would get to the point that you would make an absolute fool out of yourself in front of him. But at the same, why should you care? You had a boyfriend.

The more you kept thinking about it, the more you were probably going to hurt your brain so you put your focus solely on searching for an outfit. In the back of your closet, you found a short black dress staring back at you. It was already known that you had the perfect shoes to go with it, so the answer that you came to was yes almost immediately.

After taking a quick shower and straightening your hair, the dress was slipped on along with the shoes. You did a once over in your floor length mirror that you had gotten from IKEA and nodded to your reflection in approval. Looking at your phone, you saw that it was close to ten at night and the goal was to get there as soon as possible in order to be able to get back as soon as possible.

The drive was a short one and once you pulled up, you saw multiple people hanging out outside including someone who was shitfaced on the front lawn of whoever's house it was. Shaking your head to yourself, you quickly pulled out your phone and sent a text to Joe in order to let him know that you were here.

Less than three minutes later, you saw him come out of the front door and take the steps two at a time to make his way to your car. Getting out, you closed your door and made sure to lock it before turning to face him as he had come up to you from behind.

“Hey, I'm here just like I promised. Since you know that you forgot what I looked like and wanted to see me in person.” You told him while rolling your eyes he smirked.

“Nothing changed from last time. Still as gorgeous as I remember.” He responded as the two of you started walking towards the front door.

“You literally just saw me last night and I don't have any idea what I'm going to do with you.”

“I could think of a few things I want to do with you. Just let me know when you're ready to find out.” He whispered and you simply shook your head.

Once the two of you crossed the threshold, his hand was on the small of your back as he guided you through the swarm of bodies and soon made your way to the kitchen where Justin and Ja'Marr were in the middle of an intense game of beer pong.

“About time you showed up, big sis. Tell the little bro that he is about to get his ass kicked.” Justin told you as it was Ja'Marr’s turn who looked at Justin to suck his teeth.

“I am not! How is that possible when I’m definitely winning right now?!” Ja’Marr asked as rolled his eyes.

“I just don’t see how the three of you have so much energy.” You said as you looked at all three of them.

“Yesterday we were pregaming.”

“Justin?! Pregaming?!?! We were out for hours!” You exclaimed as he looked at you and shrugged.

“You made it back home in one piece, didn’t you?”

“Of course she did because Joe wouldn’t let her out of his sight.” Justin quietly said but you could see Joe turn a slight shade of red while Ja’Marr smiled.

Since Joe and Ja’Marr had grown closer in the almost three months that he had been down here, Ja’Marr knew for a fact that Joe liked you and had been infatuated with you ever since he introduced the two of you to one another. He had his suspicions that you liked him back, but he wasn't so sure.

He would try to do everything that he possibly could to get you away from Trevor.

Joe had walked away from the three of you for a minute and when he returned he handed you a red solo cup. Before holding it up to your lips, you looked inside of it to inspect what it was. You could count on one hand the times that you had gotten drunk and rode it out at Erin’s house with her older sister giving you both IV fluids to help recover.

“What’s this?” You asked as you smelled it. It wasn’t a strong scent that would knock you off your feet and it gave you the vibe of it possibly being fruity.

“Your drink that I got you.” Joe said as he took a sip of whatever was in his cup.

“I was always told not to accept drinks from strangers or accept a drink that I didn’t go and get myself.” You told him as you looked back up at him.

“Well, it’s a good thing that I’m not a stranger right? And you honestly think that anyone would be stupid enough to try something with your brother standing right there?” He asked you as you gave him a look of approval.

“I guess you’re right, now what is it?”

“Just taste it, but if it will make you feel better, you can taste mine first. I promise that it’s the exact same thing.”

Without a second thought, you grabbed Joe’s cup and took a small sip. Just as you suspected, it was fruity and had a light taste that wasn’t overwhelming.

Seeing that you approved, he handed your cup to you and as you took another small sip, as promised it was the exact same thing.

“Good choice, Burrow.”

“I figured that you would like it and didn’t want any of the harder options that they have over there.”

“Y/N, you playing?” Justin asked and you gave him a small smile.

“Sure, but only if Joe plays against me.” You answered as you poked Joe’s side making him smirk.

“And here her competitive ass goes. We about to be over here for the rest of the night.” Ja’Marr muttered as he got some chips out of a large bowl and threw them into his mouth.

“I can take her, let’s get to it princess.”

“Famous last words, Burrow.”

After many rounds of beer pong later and mingling with other people, you were making your rounds with a few familiar faces in the living room, when you had suddenly spotted no one other than your boyfriend who looked to be drunk off his ass coming through the front door and sighed.

“Shit.” You quietly said and tried to look for an exit, but came up short. Before you could even make your way into the kitchen, he had spotted you and was moving towards the direction that you were in.

“So, you can’t answer my calls, but come to a party instead?” He asked as he towered over you.

“You pissed me off and I didn’t want to talk to you, simple. So yes, I can dodge your calls whenever I fucking feel like it and come to a party instead. Move out of my way because I still don’t want to talk to you.” You replied and attempted to move around him, but instead he caught your arm and pulled you back.

“I’m not finished fucking talking to you and the last thing you’re about to do is walk away from me.”

“I can and I will and you need to get your fucking hands off me before I get my brother who will beat your ass. I still don’t want to talk to you so move along. You’re clearly drunk and we will have this conversation when you’re sober.”

One thing that you were not going to do was let him intimidate you. You might be small, but you still stood your ground and let him know that you would be tolerating any form of disrespect coming from him or anyone else.

“Who the hell are you talking to like that?” He asked as his grip on your wrist tightened at the same time you were trying to get away from him.

You were trying to look around for Ja’Marr, Justin, or Joe but was coming up short until you heard Joe’s voice from behind Trevor.

“Is there a problem over here? Y/N, you okay?” He asked as he stood on the side of both of you and looked Trevor up and down.

“We’re fine, mind your own damn business. This is between me and my girlfriend.”

“I believe that I was talking to her and not to you. I don’t give a damn if you’re her boyfriend or not. What you aren’t going to do is disrespect her in front of me. You can first start by getting your hand off of her damn wrist because you’re hurting her and it’s turning red.”

“Who the fuck is this guy? Y/N, you fucking him instead of me?” He asked the first question to no one in particular, but the second one was obviously directed at you.

“Trevor, quit it. Just leave. I already said that I wasn’t going to talk to you.”

“Nah, because he thinks he can come over here and get in my business when it has nothing to do with him.” He told you as he turned to keep his eyes on Joe.

Suddenly the room had gone quiet and all eyes were on the three of you as he began to raise his voice.

“Just leave and we’ll talk later.” You told him as you wanted for this night to be over since your mood was now ruined.

You knew that you should have stayed home.

“Not until pretty boy hear learns a fucking lesson.”

Next thing you knew, Trevor shoved Joe who barely moved one inch and you went to stand in between them.

You saw Joe’s jaw clench and knew for a fact that this was going to end badly unless you did something and did something now.

“Joey, no. And Trevor do not fucking put your hands on him.”

“So, you’re defending him instead of me?”

“Yes, because you are being a straight up asshole. Why the hell are you pushing people?”

The next thing you knew it seemed like everything was happening in slow motion, Trevor raised his fist and got ready to punch Joe who dodged it, but Joe made sure to push you out of the way first so that you didn’t get hit. Ja’Marr and Justin came running over to where all of you were standing and caught Joe’s fist as it was about to connect to Trevor’s jaw.

“Joe, chill. It’s not worth it as much as I want to let you go and beat his ass.” Ja’Marr told him as he was holding Joe and Justin was holding back Trevor.

“Y/N, go and get in my car.” Trevor said and you looked at him like he was crazy.

“I think the fuck not. My sister is not going anywhere with you. What you can do is take your ass on out that front door before I let him go and all three of us are kicking your ass, your choice.” Ja’Marr told him as Joe was still struggling to get out of his grasp making him have to hold tighter.

Trevor then held his hands up in defense and began to slowly walk away towards the front door finally giving up on the thought that you were going to leave with him. Once he was finally out the door, Ja’Marr released his hold on Joe and turned to look at you.

“Pebbles, I wish you would fucking break up with him. Do you not see what the fuck he just did? What if we hadn’t been here, huh?! Do you know what could have happened?!” Ja’Marr started but Joe quickly intervened when he saw tears forming in your eyes.

“Not now man, important thing is that she’s okay. You are okay aren’t you? Let me see your wrist.”

You held out your right arm so Joe could look at it and there was a red indentation from where his hand had been.

“Come on, let’s get you some ice from the freezer.”

As you nodded your head, Joe guided you into the kitchen and you were caught off guard as he placed you onto the counter as he rummaged through the freezer and got a small ziploc bag to put the ice in. When he was finished, he walked back over to you and stood in between your legs as he placed the ice on your wrist which led to you letting a hiss escape from your lips.

“Seriously, princess. Are you okay?” Joe softly asked you and you nodded your head.

“I just… I’ve never seen him get like that before and I was scared. He has never put his hands on me or yelled at me like that.”

“I’m just glad we were all here with you.”

“Me too.” You quietly said as Joe brushed a piece of hair out of your face and smiled at you.

It was quiet for a few minutes as Joe tended to your wrist before he looked back up at you.

“You ready to leave? I can come with you.”

“Yeah, I think that it’s probably best at this point.”

Ja’Marr came into the kitchen and made his way over to you as he gave you a hug from the side since Joe was in front of you and kissed the top of your head.

“I yell because I love you and never want anything to happen to you. You’re the only twin I got.” He told you as he pinched your cheek which made you smile.

“I know, I love you too, Bam Bam.”

“I was going to take her home. I’ll text you when she’s safe.” Joe told him, with him nodding in approval.

“Sure thing.”

It had gotten a little colder outside and made sure to walk as fast as possible to your car since the heels you were wearing probably wouldn’t allow you to run. When you were about to get into the driver’s seat, Joe stopped you.

“Let me drive, I know your wrist is still hurting.”

Unlocking your car and not putting up a fight, you walked over to the passenger side and slid in as Joe held the door open for you.

The two of you were now driving through Baton Rouge, as your head laid against the glass and Joe noticed the small circles you were massaging onto your wrist.

“Make sure you take some motrin or something to help your wrist. You don’t have practice tomorrow do you?”

“No, but we have it on Tuesday and then a competition on Saturday. I just hope it’s okay by then.”

“It should be. Just keep stretching it and taking something for it. And more ice will help too.”

“I will. Actually can we make a stop really fast?” You asked and of course Joe nodded.

“Of course and besides, it’s your car that I’m driving.” He responded while laughing.

“Good point. Make a left at the next light and then a right.”

Joe followed directions and was now on a dimly lit street.

“Where are we going?”

“When I get sad, I eat ice cream or get a milkshake at this twenty four hour spot I discovered.”

“Not you holding out on me.” Joe teased as you shook your head.

“I would have taken you eventually. But when I’m around you I’m always happy so there was no need for it.” You quietly said as Joe tried to hide the smile that was forming on his face.

“And that’s how it will always be when I’m around you.”

A few minutes later, Joe saw the sign for the ice cream shop that you had pointed out and quickly parallel parked on the street before the two of you got out to head inside. Joe once again opened the door for you and helped you up the steps to the entrance.

Looking at you now scanning the menu, Joe couldn’t help himself but to take in your appearance for the night. The black dress you were wearing was hugging your curves just right and the shoes you had on was a perfect compliment to it. He was pulled from his thoughts as he heard you call his name.

“Joey, what are you getting?” You asked as you looked over at him.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Did you decide what you wanted yet? I’ll pay, it’s my treat.”

“Probably an oreo milkshake and you don’t have to pay for it.” You told him as you shook your head.

“Then lets make that two and I’m going to because I said so.”

You knew you smiling at him was more than enough to thank him as he placed both of your orders and paid. The two of you stood to the side and Joe noticed that you were hugging yourself and assumed that you were cold.

Without even asking you, he took off his hoodie and told you to hold your arms up.

“But I don’t want you to be cold.”

“You need it more than I do, arms up.”

You finally gave in and held your arms up as he quickly pulled it over your head and took out your hair from the back and pulled it down in the front.

“Better?”

“Better.”

When Joe had turned away from you to get both of your milkshakes, you took in the scent of his hoodie and it happened to be one of your favorite scents that he would wear. You put it in the back of your mind that you were not giving him this hoodie back any time soon.

He handed you your drink and he walked in front of you in order to be able to open the door and help you down the steps. As the two of you got settled in your car and he started to drive when he broke the silence.

“Y/N…”

“Hmm?” You asked as you were sipping on your milkshake.

“I’m saying this as someone who cares about you so please don’t take any of this the wrong way.”

“I know what you’re about to say, just like everyone else. I need to break up with him.”

“Then why don’t you do it? I mean I’m to the point where I wouldn’t want you to be alone with him because of what I saw tonight.”

“In some weird twisted way I do love him and he means well. He was not like that when we first got together and I honestly think that he’s going through something and he either doesn’t want to tell me or…”

“Y/N, stop making excuses for him. Even if he is going through something he has no reason to act like that towards you, drunk or not. What would have happened if the two of you were by yourselves?”

“I….”

“I just want to be sure you’re safe. At the end of the day, I’m not telling you what to do because you’re an adult but…. Take it how you want it.” Joe said, being completely honest as he turned into your apartment complex parking lot.

When you were quiet, he spoke up again.

“I would want nothing more for someone else to be able to show you how you should be treated.”

“Joey…”

“Y/N, I know you like me, and I like you. I’ve made that obvious time and time again. You literally spend more time with me than your actual boyfriend, and you even just told me yourself less than thirty minutes ago how happy you always are around me. Why don’t you just let me in? What are you afraid of?”

[bunny-1111]

Beg for it - Theodore Nott

Description: Before break, you had trouble with Theodore. On the train ride back to Hogwarts, he reminds you of the consequences of your actions.

Word count: 1.5k

...

You had gone all summer break without taking to Theo.

All summer long.

It was out of pettiness, of course. A small little argument turned into a blowout fight right before getting off the train to return home for the holidays.

You stared at your parchment all day, every day. You even picked up your quill one day, watched the ink drop onto the paper, then dropped it, pride having got the better of you.

Pride got the best of Theodore too.

Who the fuck were you to do this, ruin his summer and not write a dot to him, he thought; stubbornness mets human form in Theodore Nott; he would not accept defeat in reaching out first.

So that was that. Nothingness for two full months.

As you made your way to the platform, you thought the silent treatment would reach its end. Scarcely looking around for your boyfriend, you realise you're so nervous, you don't know if you could get a word out if you tried.

Pushing your trolley you look up, in his mighty form, Theodore Nott, body leaning onto the brick, casually talking to Matteo and Pansy.

You felt your heart drop. What do you say now, hey stranger? Miss me? I'm sorry. No. Dumb, dumber, dumbest.

So you just stood there, hand on your trolley, heart beating out of your chest by the second.

Your daze broke when you heard Pansy call out to you.

"There she is!!" she called out, gesturing you to join them.

You tried to approach, really you did, except your legs failed you. You couldn't move for a few seconds, or was it a minute? You didn't know.

"What's wrong, come-er" Mattheo yelled towards you, eyebrows furrowed

You finally made your way to them, Theodore looking at the ground.

When you got there, he was quick to leave, stomping on his cigarette and boarding the train. So this is how it would go, still not talking, got it.

Matteo quicky greeted you, then followed your boy.

"What's up his ass?" Pansy questioned, pulling you into a hug.

"I couldn't tell you" you huffed

"What's up your ass?" she questioned

"Theodore" you rolled your eyes

"Did yous fight during the break" she asked linking her arm with yours, as you start to walk towards the train

You stop and turn to her "We haven't spoken since the last day of school" you admit

her eyes widen "did you break up?!"

"that would require a conversation" you laughed self pity laced in your expression

"you wouldn't have mentioned that in one of your letters?" she says

"I didn't want to think about it, I'm sorry" you reply

"what are you going to do?" she almost laughed

"I don't know, I was hoping you'd figure it out for me" you say faking a cry

she threw her head back in laughter "Oh no, no, this is a you problem"

You groaned back, searching for the carriage the boys secured.

As you reached the door, you looked at the seating arrangement. You could sit next to Draco, wedge yourself between Blaise and Enzo, or sit in the open seat next to Theo.

Next to Draco was the most rational decision you thought: taking a seat. Until Pansy had other plans. " Get up; I'm sitting there," she smiled, her head nudging towards Theos's direction.

You took a deep breath and moved beside him, your shy eyes looking up at him. When he didn't look back, breathe a word, touch you, or even acknowledge your existence, you took it upon yourself to rest your head on the window seal.

Pft you thought.

Nine and a half hours of this. You wished you had a time turner to change your present. To have just written him. Maybe you wouldn't be in this situation if you had.

Would it be this painfully quiet the whole trip? Would he even reply if you started a conversation? Ugh you wanted to scream out. But you didn't. Your mouth stayed shut, and your eyes stayed closed.

Eventually falling asleep to the soundtrack of your endless thoughts.

That is until Theodore nudges you awake. Opening your eyes, he gestures for you to leave with him. Here we go.

The two of you walk down the thin corridors of the Hogwarts Express in silence, looking for an empty carriage.

After looking and looking, with no luck, Theodore grew increasingly impatient.

He found an almost empty space, though three kids, much younger than you both, sat in cartridge, door closed. Theodore stopped before the door, opening it, as the children stared at him.

"Get out", he said cooly, pointing at them, then behind himself.

"Why, where will we go?" a boy replied

"I don't give a fuck join the people next door. We're prefects unless you want three weeks of detention. I suggest you do as I say," he continued; it was the most you had heard of his voice in so long; you didn't want him to stop talking, even if it was telling off these strangers.

They hesitantly got up and left, muttering something under their breath, beginning their quest for new seats.

Theodore grabbed your hand and sat you down, closing the door and curtain behind him.

Your heart rate picked up again as he sat directly before you.

You didn't know where to look and certainly didn't know what to say.

"You have some nerve." He stated, leaning back, relaxing his legs out, looking straight at you.

Could he hear it, the thud of your pounding heart, you wondered.

"I-" you began

"And then. You dare to not sit next to me" He laughs, a scary laugh, an angry laugh

You inhale, ready to rebut before he starts again. "Is that what you want, to sit with Draco? Huh? Or Blaise or Matteo, anyone but your fucking boyfriend."

"I didn't think you wanted me near you," you say, looking out the window. Avoiding his gaze. Yeah, he didn't like that, immediately moving next to you,

"What's so special out the window?" he growled, placing two fingers on your chin, tilting your head towards him "Look at me when we talk, not the bloody view" he continued

"okay", you managed to whisper back. I wasn't a second longer before one of his hands reached the back of your neck, the other finding its way through your hair. His lips exploring your mouth.

He was literally taking your breath away when he finally pulled away; you caught your breath back, his forehead connecting to yours

"why didn't you fucking write me?" he pants out

"I don't know," you say, closing your eyes

"look at me" he says, you do.

"I waited all fucking summer," he says, looking deep into your eyes; you knew what he was doing, searching for the answer you still hadn't given him.

"you didn't write me either," you said in a hushed tone

His hands meet his face, burying his frustration.

You place your hands on his back, he moves his hand from his face to your arm, sliding down until his arm is around your body.

"I shouldn't talk to you for the whole school year" he spat out

"You couldn't live like that" you quickly reply

"I have plenty of experience, two months worth, all thanks to you," he says inching closer to you

"I'm sorry, Teddy, alright" you plead

"you really don't get it, do you? How angry you made me all fucking break. What am I gonna do with that?" his voice husky and low, leaning over you

"do what you have to do," you say just above a whisper underneath him

"Here, now? I don't think so" he says before kissing you "teddy" you called out

"I'm right here," he says, kissing your neck

"please" you whisper

"No, no," he says, moving off you

"I'm gonna make you as frustrated as you made me all summer, baby" he smiles

You look at him blankly. He was knocking any bit of integrity out of you

"come on" you almost laugh

"I'm so serious", he says "You'll be begging all term long" he continues kissing your forehead, standing up

"where are you going?" you rush

"back to the group" he smiles. You furrow your brows

"what's wrong, baby?" he chuckles

"Teddy" you whine

"I told you... begging" he says, looking back, leaving the carriage

This was not how you expect things to go.

It was going to be a long term, and you hadn't even arrived yet.

The punishment of pushing Theodore Nott.

Message me or comment to be added to the tag list x

Requests are open

Reblogs, comments and likes are, as always, appreciated my loves XOXOXO

part 2 - here

[v3lv3tsin]

lucifer: yang jungwon

| brought the heat back series: two / three

| pairing: yang jungwon x reader

| word count: 5.3k

| warnings: blood, swearing, alcohol, manipulation, murder, toxic behaviour, angst, minors dni

| stefy's note: my drafts broke down twice as i was trying to write this so i'm sorry if it took this much time plus extra activities for uni are killing me and so is the exam season, so enjoy :)

| genre: vampire!jungwon, human!reader, vampire!heeseung (heeseung mentioned), vampire!jay (jay mentioned)

| spotify playlist 🎧 (recommend listening to it while reading)

"You have to tell me what happened!" Your best friend hollers as you two walk to the wednesday history lecture. Ever since the party you haven't told her about the little escapade you had with Jungwon.

"I told you nothing happened!" You reply rolling your eyes at her. Of course, you weren't gonna tell her that Jungwon just fingered you and you left him with a boner. And then acted like nothing happened.

"Something happened! You just don't want to talk to to me about it." She continues on the same tone when you reach the lecture room to finally be able to end the discussion itself. "Plus you were gone for more than half an hour, that should mean something." Your best friend teases you.

"I told you nothing happened between me and him!" Sitting down on the uncomfortable chair from the lecture room, you look at her annoyed. Of course she was curious, but it shouldn't be any of her business what you and jungwon did or do. But that's besides the point. She was a pushover, but you loved her nonetheless.

Without caring about what you were talking, you're met with your best friends question related to none other than Jungwon. "Guess who's eyeing you again?" Not thinking twice about what you have just heard you roll your eyes instinctively. Not a minute after you're met with Jungwons red glaring eyes.

Turning around to lock eyes with your best friend as you finally ask her. The question that has been on your mind ever since you left the party. "Why are his eyes always red? It's weird!" You continue on the same doubtful tone. "Does he wear contacts all the time?"

"Who knows. But he looks hot." Your best friend pushes your shoulder playfully, taking her time to check Jungwon out. Sitting at the back of the class, talking to one of his friends, Heeseung. You haven't heard much about him, but both of them were handsome. That's a given. Jungwons now red dark hair was messy as he had his lazy eyes on the computer focusing on writing his notes from time to time. He looked so casual, yet so handsome.

How come you haven't noticed him before? To be honest, after the lecture would have finished, you and your best would always leave as soon as possible. Barely having any time to talk to the other students. That wasn't a problem until now. There was something about him, you couldn't tell what it was exactly, but it was pulling you in.

"Who cares. He's fucking hot." Your best friend continues on the same loud tone as before. She was loud. Too loud. Always speaking her mind when it comes to boys.

"Shhh!" You signal to her by putting your hand over her mouth attempting to not let Jungwon or his friends hear you gossiping about them. Pausing for a second you take your hand off her mouth as you then add. "They can hear us." Turning around to see if Jungwon or his friends heard anything, one thing is clear. He was smirking.

The image of your cum, along with your blood, dripping from his mouth was playing in your head. His messy red hair. Some of his clothes on the floor. He looked breathtaking to say the least.

One thing was clear. They heard you two talking. How?

Weird. You thought to yourself. Not putting much thought into it then. Maybe your best friend spoke too loud or you just weren't paying attention. Who knows.

"Let's just focus on the lecture." You add one the same worried tone as before not wanting to talk about him anymore. Even if he could hear you or not, you had to focus on the lecture not on him. "I don't wanna talk about him anymore." You say turning your head to talk to her, not wanting to give her more information about your reason.

"Fine fine." Your best friend rolles her eyes trying not to act affected by your words. You could tell that she wanted to continue on the same subject, but accepted it because of you. And you loved her for that.

Thankfully, you hear the annoyed voice of your teacher as he had now his eyes on you two.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

There's one thing that he hated most when it comes to his lectures and that was one thing and one thing only. Talking and not paying attention.

"Miss Y/N and miss Y/F/N if you have something to discuss, i'm sure you can also do it outside the class or feel free to tell us about it." Mr. Caldwell says on an irritated tone as he looks at the two of you. Seeing that none of you are answering the teacher turns around to continue writing on the wide whiteboard.

Thank God.

Now neither you or your best friend didn't have answer the question in front of the whole class. Embarass yourself. In front of everyone. Turning around you're faced again with Jungwons grin. That damn grin.

What an asshole.

"What's his problem?" You look confused at your best friend rolling your eyes definetly annoyed by his behaviour. Acts as if he likes you at the party, kisses you and now laughs as you. Perfect. Now you ruined all your chances you probably never had with him.

Facing you after she stopped writing the final word of the sentence, your best friend answered unbothered. "I don't know. Who cares." She pauses for a second as she continues on the same indifferent tone as before. "You're overthinking again."

Maybe you were being too mean to him. You barely met and talked to the guy and hopefully he was just laughing about the situation and not about you. Maybe you're overthinking again.

"Yeah maybe." You finally turn your attention to the teacher who has been talking about the french revolution for about thirty minutes now and try to get the most out of the lecture itself or what was left from it.

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You've been pacing around the room for about twenty minutes ever since you recieved a mysterious packadge that has been laying on your neatly made bed. The boxes are stacked in a pyramid-like arrangement, each box a different size, with the largest at the bottom and the smallest at the top. The topmost box is tied with a sleek black ribbon, adding an elegant finishing touch. Each box has a minimalistic design with Prada’s logo in black, adding to the sophistication.

Taking your time to finally approach the packadge, you spot an envelope resting atop of the Prada boxes, crafted from thick, cream colored paper with a subtle sheen that catches the light. The edges are beveled, and a deep burgundy wax seal embossed with an elegant monogram holds it closed. The envelope is carefully positioned in the center, slightly angeled over the black ribbon that secures the top box.

Fancy. You thought to yourself.

Taking a deep breath you open the letter carefully not to break the seal. You glance along the cursive letters written down as you read through them. "La Maison Ètoile, tonight at 6.- J".

J. J? Jungwon? What the hell? What the actual fuck?

La Maison Ètoile? Yes. La Maison Ètoile. One of the most expensive restaurant in the city.

"You slut!" Your best friend answers as she calls you out by almost screaming at you like she always does. If she was there, there's no doubt that she would be pushing your shoulder playfully but not before making you open the boxes. "Try it on! Try the outfit on!" She says over the phone in a babylike voice.

Without having any second thoughts you typed in your best friends phone number to tell her about it. In almost no time at all she was trying to convince you to go to the so called date.

"You have to go." You best friend continues on the same persuasive tone as before as it could be heard over the phone. It was clear that she believed that you and Jungwon could be an item. "It could be fun. You need to give him a blow job for that gift alone." She says reffering back to the Prada packadge you haven't opened yet.

Rolling your eyes you answer her by calling her out in an almost screaming voice embarassed of what you just heard. "Shut up. I'm not gonna blow him." You pause for a minute hoping that she didn't hear you whisper. "At least not tonight."

"Fine." You answer her before pausing for a moment to look over the small pile of boxes next to you. "I'll call you later." Ending the call you finally get the courage to finally open the boxes.

Turning around you untie the black ribbon holding the pyramid of boxes together, making you able to take each box individually. Taking the white largest Prada box from the bottom of the pyramid you open it hesitantly hoping to not be met with an unwanted surprise. You see a short-sleeved, black knit cardigan with contrasting white details, like the V-neck collar, button line, and pockets neatly packed along with a a high-waisted black mini skirt, featuring a discreet Prada logo on the pocket.

Your size. Your size? How does he even know what size you're wearing? Maybe because you've been wearing skirts your whole life. Mostly to the lectures.

Taking the white second largest on top of the box you have just opened which was now on you lap, waiting to be opened. You take your time to open it to be met with a pair of black stiletto heels with sparkling crystal embellishments on the straps.

Wow. Was all you could mutter as you were still unpacking the gift you have gotten moments ago.

Unpacking the pale green small box that was on top of the box you have just opened, you're seeing a a black bow scrunchie with white edges, a small black quilted Prada handbag with a silver chain neatly packed.

He really outdid himself. You said as you decided to take the last box which was now waiting to be opened. As you did so, you realize that there are several accesories such as pearl earrings, a simple pearl necklace, and a sleek black Prada watch.

Fuck. This guy deserves a whole damn blow job along with your virginity all together.

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And there he was. Leaning onto his burgundy Aston Martin Valkyrie. He is dressed in a grey crew-neck sweater layered over a white collared shirt, with the cuffs of the shirt peeking out and rolled back slightly over the sweater sleeves, giving a relaxed but polished look. Jungwon's wearing high-waisted dark grey trousers that are slightly loose, and he completes the outfit with sleek, black leather loafers. His short, slightly tousled hairstyle and round, dark-rimmed glasses made him look innocent.

If you haven't met him, you could have guessed that he was as innocent as anyone could think of. But this wasn't the case. His now brown eyes were now checking you out from head to toe.

"I see you got the package." Jungwon smirks as soon as he sees you walk out of the door.

How did he know your adress? Maybe you must have told him at some point. Or some other time.

Tilting his head and crossing his arms you could see him admiring you from afar. Continuing on the same teasing tone as he grins at you before he adds. "Didn't think it would fit you, princess."

"Well it did." You answer him rolling your eyes not expecting him to be this cocky when it came to dates. To be honest, you expected him to be a gentleman but that was not the case to begin with. Not even a compliment. Not even opening the car door for you. Asshole much.

You're overthinking. Certainly. Maybe not. Maybe yes.

It's not a date. It's a date. Taking you off your thoughts is the warmth of Jungwons hand now being carefully placed on your thigh. Gripping it lightly he then takes a look at you. You looked beatiful. In the dress that the he bought.

"Didn't think you would come, princess." Jungwon says as he rubs his thumb onto the exposed thighs, sometimes his hand reaching under your skirt for a moment or two.

"Well i'm here." You confess to him as you didn't expect to see yourself here. On the way to the most expensive restaurant in the city. In a car that probably costs ten times more than your college fee.

La Maison Ètoule is a beautifully decorated restaurant interior with a refined, luxurious ambiance. The space is dimly lit, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. Small, elegantly set tables are draped in crisp white tablecloths, each arranged for two diners and adorned with a single, lit candle as a centerpiece, casting a soft, golden glow. The chairs surrounding the tables are plush and upholstered in dark, velvet-like fabric, with high backs that lend an air of sophistication. Some of these chairs appear to be a deep burgundy, which complements the rich, dark color scheme of the room.

The walls are lined with large, ornate mirrors framed in elegant moldings, reflecting both the light and the opulent details of the room. These mirrors add depth and dimension to the space, amplifying the cozy yet expansive feeling. The walls also feature decorative panels or framed artwork with intricate designs, perhaps inspired by vintage or classical styles, adding to the restaurant’s old-world charm.

The ceiling is bordered with gold moldings, which catch the candlelight and give a subtle, luxurious gleam. Soft, wall-mounted lamps with delicately shaded coverings provide additional lighting, positioned to illuminate the tables and highlight the intricate decor without overpowering the room’s intimate glow. Toward the back of the space, a large potted plant with broad green leaves adds a refreshing touch of nature, softening the opulence of the surroundings.

After entering the restaurant you're informed that Jungwon already made a reservation. Fancy. He was prepared. Very. Before you could sit down be helped you by pulling the chair back so you were finally able to do so. Finally he decided to ask like a gentleman.

Looking around the restaurant, the same waitress comes back with two large black matte menus in her hand, later than handing one to Jungwon, respectively one to you.

Opening it you're surprised to see that none of the prices were shown, but from what you could grasp his did. Must be expensive then, you thought to yourself.

Before you could open your mouth to ask him what would be the best dish to order, the waitress was already at your table, with a smile on her face waiting to get your order. Jungwon smiled softly at the waitress and ordered, without asking you even for a second what would you want, a foccacia with ricotta dip along with charred octopus for you, and for himself, the gnocchi al forno. And to help all compliment with the order the waitress recommened that he should get a Chateau d'Yquem from 1971.

Did you had any idea what he ordered? No.

But you were curious for sure.

Sooner than expected the wine, along with two wine glasses and the foccacia that looked as if it was fresh out the oven. Cutting a small piece of bread for you before putting on a bit of the ricotta dip and then handing it to you. Taking it from him, you take a bite from it having no expectations.

It tasted amazing, fresh, hot and just perfect. Turning your attention to him, you see Jungwon opening the wine bottle. He was twisting the bottle instead of the cork while trying to unscrew it that resulted in the back of his hand getting a small wound. Worrying about him you take the first napkin that you could find and extend your hand to cover the wound anyhow.

"Are you ok?" You ask him covering the wound, not wanting for the blood to get everywhere on the table or his clothes. Before you could check his hand to see if he was alright you pressed down onto the wound hoping that the wound would stop bleeding. Taking the napkin off his wound you're met with no sight of blood.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. As if it had never existed.

"I'm fine." Jungwon reassures you as he moves his hand away from your sight, hoping that you didn't see anything. He continues on the same annoyed tone as before. "Just eat."

Leaning back down to your seat, you take another bite of the foccacia with the cheese dip trying to not makw the situation even weirder than before. Saving you from the awkward conversation is the arrival of the charred octopus and the gnocchi al forno. Putting each one of the respective dishes in front of each one of you.

They looked delicious and you wanted to taste both of them. But you couldn't get your mind off what just happened with him moments ago. Maybe it was just your mind playing games with you.

Without a warning Jungwon blurs out. "Have you heard about the recent murders?" He says in a calm tone, not even bothering to give a bit more context about the topic in the first place.

"No, not really." You answer in a confused voice, still having no idea what he was talking about in the first place. You vaguely heard about bodies drained out of blood, but you didn't think the news reached the university already.

"Apparently authorities found several bodies drained out of blood. Could be vampires or could be not?" Before he continues, taking a small bite of the gnocchi Jungwon looks at you as he says. "I thought you knew about this, princess."

"I did." You answer reassuring him, knowing that you heard the news, you just didn't have the time to look into it. "I didn't think you'd know about it." As you continue to take a bite of the octopus tentacle that was sitting in front of you for some time now.

Taking about murders on the first date. Weird much.

Wanting to know more about him you decide to ask him a question that has been on your mind since the party at his place. "Why law?" You look at him hoping to get an answer that gave somehow an explanation to his major choice. The answer you would have expected would certaintly be sure it was because of his parents.

"My parents." Jungwon reassures your curiosity by barely giving you any information. Knowing that not many people who have the choice of not working, since their parents are millionares already, would do so. You wouldn't have expected for a moment that Jungwon would be that type of guy.

Ding dong. You were right.

Taking your mind off things was the voice of a strange man, you've never met before, but the man seemed to know Jungwon. Without giving any explanation the man says. "I know you."

"I think you have the wrong person." Jungwon answers the strange man in distress, not wanting to talk to him at all. He wanted him gone and that was for sure. Realizing that he might be making the date more awkward than intended.

"You haven't aged a day." The man continues on the same surprised tone before realizing that it was time to leave the two love birds alone. Before you could ask him what he actually knew about Jungwon, he was gone.

Turning around hoping to see the man again, you excuse yourself to follow him. Search for him. In no time you're met with the mysterious man standing in front of you, waisting no time to know more about him. You wanted to ask him what he knew about Jungwon. "Are you sure that the man you knew was Yang Jungwon?"

Nodding and in the same time reassuring you, on the same tone as before, is the man. "Yes." Wanting to dig deeper into this awkward yet interesting situation that you were in you decided to ask him a more in depth question. "When was this?"

"1953." That's the last thing the man says, leaving you speechless. What? What the actual fuck? 1953 was 71 years ago. This must have been a dumb prank. Something, anything but this is not what you have expected to hear tonight.

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"I don't kiss on first dates." You let Jungwon know as soon as you reach the front door of you house. Looking at him with a shy smile not wanting him to get the wrong image of you. That you might be easy.

"Shut up, princess." Jungwon approaches you by coming closer to you, as he lightly grips your waist with one hand pulling you closer. Making you wrap your hands around his neck instinctively as you see him lean in. Forgetting about the words you said moments ago, leaning in also you could feel his lips on yours.

Pulling away you take a final look at him before kissing his cheek. "Thanks for the date." Closing the front door after you told him how you felt about the date to not make the situation more awkward than it was before.

Leaning down on the door, as you then reach the floor processing what happened at the date. Getting up to take your diary, you then started writing. "Dear diary, I'm not a believer. People are born, they grow old, and then they die. That's the world we live in. How can i deny what's in front of me? Someone who never grows old, never gets hurt. Someone who changes in ways that can't be explained. Bodies drained off blood."

You knew. You knew what Jungwon was. Vampire.

What made you confront him, you didn't know. But that's how you found yourself driving to his house. You wanted to know more, but you were also afraid. Something drew you to him. His mysterious allure. The way he seemed interested in you, yet not in the same time. Before you could even knock on his door, you're met with his flaming red eyes that meet yours.

"What are you?" You ask him in distress, demanding an answer as soon as possible or even faster than that. Seeing that he looks at you, not saying anything. Simply admiring you. Pausing for a second you ask him again this time hoping to have more effect than the last time. "What are you?"

Nodding, as if he was playing with you and your feelings, Jungwon gives you a shy reassuring smile. "You know." He knew you found out, somehow. That wasn't the way he was thinking in the first place that you would find out, but you did.

"No, I don't." You answer confidently, yet scared a bit of what he might be. You wanted something, anything. Before you could ask another question you hear his deep voice talking back to you. "Yes you do, or you wouldn't be here."

Shaking your head you couldn't believe what was happening. Jungwon is a vampire. A vampire. That can't be. "It's not possible. It can't be." Vampires don't exist. They're just a myth.

Approaching you with light steps is Jungwon, who wanted to explain everything, but you couldn't let that happen. It had to be a joke. "Everything you know...And every belief that you have is about to change. Are you ready for that?" Jungwon asks in a calm, steady voice not wanting to scare you even more.

"What are you?" You ask him again taking a step back, not wanting him to hurt you in any way, searching for that sole answer that could change everything and anything. You demanded to know. Even if it could change your perception of him.

Pausing for a second to finally make you understand in what kind of world you've lived in for years. Jungwon takes another look at you before answering. "I'm a vampire."

I'm a vampire. I'm a vampire. The words keep relaying in your head as you remain speechless. Turning around you blur out the words that have been haunting your mind ever since you left home. "I shouldn't have come." You really shouldn't be here.

As soon as he sees you thinking of leaving, Jungwon follows you not wanting you to see you ignore him or not be close to him anymore. That's when you heard the words that would have never escaped his mouth before. "No. Please." Jungwon comes even closer to you hoping to make you stay. Even if it was for one minute.

"No. No." Before he could come any closer you move away from his sight, wanting to be as far as possible from him. As you continue to run away from him, as far as possible, that's when he appears in front of you. In disbelief of what had just happened you ask him on a confused yet desperate tone. "How did you do that?" Looking back to the place where you talked minutes before, the front door, then back at him.

"Please. Don't be afraid. of me." Jungwon adds on a pleading tone. He was desperate, you could see it in his eyes. All he wants and wanted was for you to understand eveything. Be ok with it or at least accept it. Anything.

"Let me go." You say trying to walk past him to get to your car so you could get the hell out of there. You didn't want him to touch you, get near you. Make you understand. He was dangerous. And you didn't want to be close to him.

Gripping by the side of you arms, stopping you from running away from him. He had to explain it to you, everything. And you had to listen. "No. Y/N, there's things that you have to know and understand."

This was too much, you had to go. You want to go home and process what just happened. "Let me go!" You almost scream at him in fear as you never Jungwon in this state of mind.

"Y/N, please!" It's the last thing you hear from him as finally manage to get into the car and drive away. Him standing in disbelief and looking at you is the last thing you saw.

He was gone. You were now safe.

Or so you thought.

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Rushing to get to the door and it, as fast as possible, you find yourself in the bathroom. Trying to process what has just happened between you and Jungwon moments ago. You've never seen him like this. Ever before.

Taking your time as you were currently breathing heavily still in shock of what has just happened. He's a fucking vampire. He could kill you.

Exiting the bathroom and going back to your room you fall into the bed exhausted. You learned too much about him for one day. Sighting, you're once again pacing back and forth into the room. Maybe it was all a joke? Maybe he was just messing with you? He always does that.

As you were taking your jacket off you hear a soft and calm voice speak from behind you. "Y/N." It was Jungwon. Speaking about the devil himself.

Turning around you look at him scared, that's when you decide the fastest way is to run out of your room. Before that was possible, he pushes the door shut and corners you against the door. Trying to reason with you, Jungwon continues on the same tone. "I would never hurt you. You're safe with me."

"All those animal attacks, those people who died..." You feel your words trail off, scared, thinking of what you havw heard or read on the news. It all seemed so real. Yet so fake. Turning around you see him red eyes watching your every move.

Shaking his head, trying to make you understand the whole situation, Jungwon answers in a more convincing tone as before. "No, that was Jay." This was the only chance he's got, and he's gonna take it.

Jay. Jay? His brother? His brother. "Jay?" You ask him with an even more confused voice not expecting him to put the blame on his brother. You heard about him, but never enough to think that he might have been a vampire also.

"Yes. I don't drink human blood. That's not how I choose to survive, but Jay does! I'll explain everything to you, but I beg you, Y/N, do not tell anybody." Jungwon looks at you with soft eyes, trying to reason with you or make you believe that he won't ever hurt you.

He must be crazy for asking you this. To trust him? What the actual fuck? Looking at him confused you question him. "How can you ask me to do that?" He couldn't be seriously asking that.

"Because you knowing this is dangerous for so many reasons. You can hate me, but I need you to trust me." He continued on the same pleading tone asking for one thing only. To trust him. That's all he wanted. That's all he needed.

"Just go. Just go, please. Go. If you mean me no harm, then you'll go!" Your voice dies down as soon as you finish the sentence. Afraid of him, that's what you were. He didn't want to hurt you, or that's what he said. It's a double edged sword at the end of the day.

"I never wanted this." That's the last thing you hear before turning around to be met with the sole silence of Jungwons departure. He was gone. Gone. Out of your sight.

He actually left. He actually listened to your pleadings.

And so did you.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Finally arriving back to the mansion, Jungwon meets his oldest brother, Heeseung as he was heading into his room. "What's with the long face?" Heeseung comments as soon as he sees his brother enter the front door with a sad face.

"It's nothing." Jungwon stops into his tracks, noticing that Heeseung was holding a blood bag. Human blood. Not wanting to give him more information about what happened with you.

"Is this abour this Y/N of yours?" Heeseung asks him nonchalantly. Knowing that Jungwon is gonna tell him all about the situationship he was in with you, he decides to open the straw and drink from it.

"Yes." Jungwon rolls his eyes not expecting his brother to be able to see what is wrong with him so easily. He could tell what was on his mind without even having to ask him.

"Maybe i could talk to her." Heeseung continues on the same nonchalant tone, not caring if he's worrying his brother about you. Taking his time to finish the blood bag he looks at Jungwon waiting to see his reaction.

"Don't fucking touch her." Jungwon comes closer to his brother, in a threatning way. Continuing on the same tone, Jungwon says. "Don't get close to her. Don't look at her." Standing now in front of his brother he wanted to make sure he understood the message.

You're his. His and only his.

"You drank her blood. Didn't you?" Heeseung leans against the bedroom door looking at his brother smirking. He drank her blood. Her blood. Words kept replaying in his mind as he thought about what Jungwon said. Wanting to tease him before he was able to be alone for the night, Heeseung said. "Just don't make her end up like your last."

Jungwon nods knowing what happened the last time he wanted to turn a human into a vampire. Things took a turn for the worst, there's no doubt in that. But this it is different. He could feel it.

You were different.

© V3LV3TSIN ⎯ do not translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[kokoa-la]

Paper Clips Make Good Lock Picks- part two

Part 1

"Still going to ignore me?"

...

"Okay okay you got me. Let's get out of here first. We have an hour and a half before another teacher comes in and watches us for the last 15 minutes."

"What's your name?"

Oh, Danny forgot to introduce himself huh? 

"Danny."

"No last name?" 

"You haven't made it far on the friends list"

"Wow friends already? We just met"

"You're breaking out of detention with me. You picked a lock for me, that's called being friends."

"Do you make all your friends by committing crimes together?"

"Only the best ones"

Danny smiled before walking out and checking the hallway side to side. All clear. 

He waved Tim over and out of the classroom. 

"You know this whole hallway is under watch right? There's cameras here." 

"They don't work."

"What?" 

Danny laughed a little before signaling Tim to follow after him against the wall. 

"You didn't know? After school hours certain cameras shut down. In fact, a lot of them are broken and they never paid to get them repaired. That's why they accept bribes. They lie about having proof of crimes, works every time."

"What are you talking about?"

Danny groaned. Of course Tim didn't know about this, he was one of the rich kids they'd exploit. Danny as well as the other kids who were here off of scholarships or special deals knew about the tactic and had ways to avoid it, but rich kids like Tim didn't need to avoid it. The halfa cursed at the unfairness of life. 

"Of course you don't know. The teachers here scam the rich kids. They accuse them of crimes they didn't commit and because their parents never care for proof, only reputation, they bribe them right away without even asking for the evidence. It's happened so many times and it's why when actual problems happen it's swept up under the rug."

"Are you serious?"

"Uh yeah dude. Usually kids like me try their best to avoid it. Meaning don't fight back, don't stay after school, don't go to the bathroom for anything other than an emergency, and don't talk back to any teachers at all. Those are the basics when you're not as rich as everyone else."

"So that's why you're so adamant on being framed, but couldn't you just ask them for proof it was you?"

"Not that easy. I don't have a guardian, I'm a 'charity case' as they say it."

He practically spit out that last part. Utter disgust in his tone. 

"No parents, no money, no dice. If I don't find proof myself and publicize it or threaten em with it, I'm stuck for a year. I have things to do you know"

"Like blowing up chemistry labs?"

Tim teased. Danny gave him a look over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. You're so funny Tim! I wonder if Andys laughing in the hospital."

"He deserved it."

"And I'm innocent."

The two just stared at each other before Danny laughed and turned back around, continuing his walk. Tim chalked up the whole conversation as something to investigate later at home. His new "friend" was turning out to be a lot more interesting than he let on. 

"So this is you searching for clues? Have you gotten anything since you started"

"Well as I was saying earlier all the cameras in the hallway leading to the lab don't work at certain times, and the ones that were IN the lab are completely unsalvageable. And at the time of the explosion the usual delinquent students - Anderson included - were out of class."

"So they're the prime suspect, no chance of it being anyone else?" 

"Not many motives. If someone was using it for an outside project they didn't have permission, and other than that it's just the love of destroying and messing around."

Danny had led them through the school, taking twists and turns Tim couldn't recognize, eventually they had stopped at a roadblock. The hallway ended where a giant white tarp lay hanging from the ceiling. Caution tape was draped from each side to the other. 

"Where are we?" 

"The scene of the crime." 

Danny smiled before walking towards the plastic covering and picking it up from the ground and waving Tim over. Tim sighed before looking around and following after him, shaking his head on the way over. 

"Don't act all disappointed in me, you're literally following me"

"I may have just met you today but I'm convinced that it I left you alone you'd somehow either die or blow something up"

Oh how Tim didn't know the truth to that statement. Danny gasped and placed his hand over his chest all dramatically, taking false offense. 

"I'll have you know death cannot take me! It has tried and failed. Plus, we've been over this, I'm innocent!"

Tim didn't even want to unpack the first part of that. Logically it could be an exaggeration, but something about it felt a little too real to his senses. 

"Whatever, you felon."

"Delinquent."

"Fair, now let's get going" 

The roles had reversed as Tim took the lead instead. Danny let him despite having been here multiple times over the last few weeks. Maybe Tim would see something he couldn't. 

“So what are you hoping to find?”

“Proof of my innocence, or proof of their crimes.”

“Isn’t finding their crimes easier? Considering a lot of people already know about it.”

“Well yeah, but that’d turn back on me.”

“How so?”

God, Danny wanted to punch him. 

“Because they’d flip it on me and say how did I get the information? They’d accuse me of stealing and breaking and entering. They’d say that a delinquent child like me who hasn’t got good influences in my life would resort to just about anything to get out of punishment-”

“That’s a bit specific, don't cha think?”

“Well I’ve had similar things happen to me before”

Creepy boy with creepy powers rang in his head, he ignored it. 

“Anyways, how am I even going to get that stuff? The principal's office has all of that information and the cameras there are fully functioning and top quality. Plus, how am I supposed to get into their computer? I don’t know the password and I can’t hack shit for the life of me. Programming I can do, but that? Whole new haunt.” 

“Haunt- you know what? I’m not going to question that.”

“Good. We’re running out of time anyways. Choosing all the hallways that don’t have cameras or ones that work took a while. We need to wrap this up in 20 and then go back the way we came.”

Tim nodded and walked a bit faster towards what used to be the chem lab. There was more plastic screening in the way, but it was easily bypassed by the two. 

“There’s no one here.”

“They only do construction on this place during school hours two times a week.”

���Why? That’ll take forever.”

“Exactly.”

Tim’s questions were getting to Danny at this point. While the halfa acted all knowing in the beginning, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s actually clueless beyond what he discovered on his own. He doesn’t know why they’re prolonging the construction, it’s probably another scheme of theirs- or if they’re lucky, an extensive cover up. Danny, in all honesty, just wants to be able to go home to his little trash heap of a living space in Crime Alley and sleep. 

Tim moved forward, being way too careful. Danny knew he was oddly silent, but he could still hear the other, so he didn't question it. Superhuman hearing for the win! 

“Why is the construction flowing this way? The back of the room is close to being done, but the front is still in complete disarray. They shouldn’t be doing parts of the room, but the whole room in steps.”

Yeah, Danny couldn’t answer that one. At this point, he was just assuming that Tim had to verbalize his questions when answering them himself. He didn’t reply, and with the way the other didn’t ask again or even look at him, Danny was right. He was content to just let his detention mate do his thing, lord knows Tim’s smarter than Danny anyways.

Tim stepped forward cautiously. The ground was still slightly unsteady considering only like 15% of the room had the floors replaced. Now that Danny thought about it, that was weird. He may be clueless about anything other than ghosts and space, but even he knew that foundations were placed first. This is a dangerous and even unsafe way to do construction. Why repair one part of the room first and then bleed out? Was something hidden in that area? Plus, there was still debris from the explosion- 

“What do you think they’re hiding?”

“We’re about to find out.”

Wow, Tim was really invested now. Danny would have just gone back by now and visited tomorrow, but Tim is full on interested. 

All that was left to do was follow the rich kid further in the room. 

“Careful some of the paint is wet.”

Danny didn’t even want to ask how the other knew that from this distance. Danny could tell, but again, super human senses, Tim? Fully human. It didn’t really matter that much though, so he just followed him further and stepped around certain tiles. 

Tim started inspecting just about everything. Nothing was safe. Every piece of wood, every corner, every point in which two colors met- the guy even pulled out a leveler. Where did he get that? You know what? Didn’t matter. Danny was giving his best in minding his business. If it got him set free? He’d ask zero questions- consider his curiosity swallowed. 

“Tim, we have to go. We’re almost out of time.”

“Is it just me or is this cement not level, and doesn’t the drywall seem incorrect to you?”

Tim finally turned back to Danny, breaking out of his investigator mode. The halfa sighed before stepping over to where his new friend was, taking a closer look at what Tim was pointing out. He was right. The cement was uneven against the wall. It was strange considering Chemistry labs required tile flooring. The tiles wouldn’t go well if it wasn’t steady. Plus, the walls were supposed to be in levels: cement, then insulation, then final layer (could be anything really). The drywall set up wasn’t screwed in correctly, and Danny was pretty sure he could see the insulation in some parts. Considering special tiles or substances had to be used over the drywall to make the chemistry lab safe and usable, it wasn’t a good base. 

Okay, Danny will admit, maybe he did do a little bit of research into chemistry labs. It was a rabbit hole he couldn’t escape when listening to Mr.Lanch drag on and on about the 5 page essay due in a month. He was bored, sue him. He was used to being attacked by ghosts everyday, this place was tame. Sure, it was exhausting, but it was still interesting. 

“This isn’t right. The concrete has cracks in it.”

“So?”

“The school is supposed to use epoxy for the flooring, but for that to work the cement underneath it has to be perfect. This is far from that.”

“But they’re doing tiles, not resin.”

Tim gave Danny a look, and it honestly made him feel poor. Epoxy flooring was expensive- like really expensive- Danny has never seen it before that’s for sure. 

“Danny, the school has enough funding to make 20 of these labs with the highest grade. Tuition alone is insane amounts, even for the rich. The facilities the place offers should be of the highest quality. Even if the floors have to get replaced every few years, it states on the website that it’s supposed to be epoxy.”

Tim took what seemed to be a thousand photos of the area, getting every little detail. 

“Hmm, sounds like they’re cutting corners to cut costs. Leave it to the corrupt.”

“Alright, I got what we needed, let's head back.”

“Thank the Ancients. We’re gonna need to hurry, you know. We took too much time.”

Danny was quick to retrace the steps he took entering, ensuring no more tracks were left. Tim followed suit, and soon enough they were back into the maze of Hallways. This time with Tim leading the way. How the other knew it already when he’d only been through it once was beyond Danny, but again, he wasn’t gonna question it. 

Questioning others gave them a way to ask you questions in return, and Danny wasn’t too keen on answering anything personal.

.

.

.

“Made it!” 

Danny laughed as he slumped in the first seat, dead tired from the way they ran after seeing the clock. They were 10 minutes away when the clock showed they had 5 minutes until a check in. To say they ran would be an understatement. The way the two of them jumped down those stairs would surely raise many questions if Danny was keen to ask, but hey, maybe Tim was one of those ‘do every hobby known to mankind’ rich kids. 

Well his new friend was fit, at the least. Tim hadn’t even broken a sweat, only slightly breathing a little heavier. Danny wished. As a ghost he didn’t have such things as stamina, there was no out of breath when you don’t breathe. As a human, however, he was stuck with meager capabilities he gathered up from running away from bullies and fighting off ghosts with watchful eyes. Seriously, he needed to do whatever Tim was doing (just cheaper). 

Funnily enough, the second Tim sat down a seat away from him, Mr.Lanch entered the room. 

“I see you two have moved. I hope you didn’t cause any disturbances.”

He said while looking directly at Danny. Danny was sure to keep a tight smile on his face, hiding his clenched fist under the desk next to his thigh. 

“No way, sir. I just needed some help on that essay we have. You know I’m a little-”

“Behind, yes, I’m aware. Don’t distract Mr.Drake, he has well enough to do on his own. Am I clear?”

“Yes, yes. Sorry, won’t happen again.”

“Now apologize to Mr.Wayne for bothering him.”

“He wasn’t a bother.”

Tim interrupted, and Danny swore Tim looked annoyed. How come?

“Excuse me?”

“Danny wasn’t bothering me, Mr.Lanch, I was happy to help.”

There was an attitude in his tone, a bit of sharpness that Danny could pick up. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

“Yes, well, an esteemed individual such as yourself mustn't get too involved with the likes of him.”

Was this guy for real? Not even bothering to hide the blatant discrimination. Danny refrained from rolling his eyes, his fist clenching ever so tighter, making indents in his skin. 

“What may that mean, Mr.Lanch.”

“Mr.Drake, I’m sure you are well aware that people like… him are not the best influence on those such as yourself.”

Danny could feel the rage bubbling under Tim’s skin- being a sort of empath had its perks. 

“People like him? I am unaware as to what exactly you mean by that.”

Yeah, this was going to continue escalating. Danny cleared his throat, making both of them look over at him.

“I’m sorry Tim for bothering you earlier. It won’t happen again, don’t worry.”

“That’s better like it, now, I will return when time is up. Good day.”

And with that, Mr.Lanch left the room, making Danny sigh in relief. He sunk into his seat and rubbed his fingers over the crescents in his palm. 

“Why did you do that?”

“What?”

Tim gave him an annoyed look.

“Apologize.”

“It’s not that important, Tim. It’s easier on me if I just do what he asks. As long as I don’t get punished too badly it’s fine.”

“Didn’t we just return from trying to prove your innocence?”

“That was different from this. A year of detention and being banned from any labs for the rest of highschool is way too drastic to just take it. I have a thing called a job, Tim, I can’t be here when I could be working. Not all of us have people making food for them anytime they want.”

This was ridiculous. Seriously, Danny may care about justice and all that jazz, but he made a promise to- well- Jazz that he’d finish highschool and do it right. He couldn’t start problems when he already barely got in from this alone. Tim would be fine anywhere he went, Danny wouldn’t, and that’s just the truth. He couldn’t punch his way out of this one, and he accepted that the first month in. It really was Casper high part two, but instead of the treatment being because he was the weird kid, it was because he was the poor orphan. Not much better, now, was it.

Tim finally shut his mouth. Danny allowed himself to roll his eyes before putting his head down on the desk. 10 minutes until freedom. 

Day one was finally over. 

_______________________

Imma be real honest I actually hated part 2 which is why I never posted it, but i've been convinced bcs someone asked for the link to it so i avoided tumblr for a week because i thought itd be mean to show activity and ignore them- so i went back edited it and now theres a part 3 and im worried this will become a short story

anyways enjoy!

Koa out <3

[roxxyhoney]

Okay so this post may initially come off as corny to some, but I just had to make a birthday related IWTV post. Today is my birthday, and it's the first one I've celebrated being apart of the fandom. I started watching the show in March of this year and I don't think I'm the only one who feels like their life has completely changed😅. Without a doubt, IWTV is the best series I've ever seen and that's coming from someone who has watched many many shows and has had some obsessions here and there back in the day. From Buffy, to TVD (give or take a season), GOT (years after it ended), and so many more, but IWTV hits me on a whole different level that I could have never imagined.

When the show came out in 2022, I'll admit I didn't give it a chance like I should have, and apart of me is grateful that I didn't, because I don't know how you all survived the year & half hiatus. I almost didn't survive waiting only TWO months for the new season, so I can only imagine how it felt to wait even longer.

If you follow my blog or have seen a random post from me, it's no secret that I am a huge Loustat fan and I have such a tremendous soft spot for Jam. (I've spent an embarrassingly long time watching interviews and clips of them, and I can't get enough). Jacob Anderson and Sam Reid are both incredible and amazing at what they do. I absolutely can't wait for season 3 and all it has to offer. Ready to see some promotional images, videos, trailers, cast announcements, etc.

What's been getting me through this hiatus has been a lot of phenomenal things. Many people in this fandom have been wonderful and have provided great information and interesting theories (some I'm hoping play out). No, I haven't read the books but I do know quite a bit about what goes on and that's thanks to a lot of research and the many people in this fandom.

Sometimes the fandom can be on one and things can get crazy, but for the most part it's been a real treat getting to experience this show with those who love it just as much. From the fanfiction that is now apart of my daily read, to the fan videos, and definitely to the beautiful artwork from the most talented people out there (I think I have a redbubble problem with as much merch I have purchased). It's all just been a real mind-blowing experience, and I've pretty much "fallen into a well with no bottom."

And let's not forget the most amazing cast, show runners, writers, directors, etc. Yes, I absolutely LOVE Jam, but the whole entire cast was made for this show and their acting is astounding. I would love to meet them in real life one day as I've heard nothing but great things.

So, moral of this novel of a post, and if you've stuck with it this far, is I just wanted to say how much I desperately love the show and the talent that this fandom has showcased.

Not only that, I've met one of my dearest friends from this fandom. You know who you are♥️♥️♥️ And words aren't enough to express how much your friendship means to me.

So, I wanted to list below just a few things from myself and others.

If you read fanfiction and you're interested in an au/human loustat, check out my first fic in the fandom: "it's like a best friend, but more." So far, there are only 15 chapters with 5 left to go.

For more of my favorite fics, I've created a fic rec list. This list will be updated throughout.

I have a new loustat video posted. Check it out if you're interested.

A huge shout out to @haflacky for creating this beautiful loustat commission piece. I am still in awe and super grateful.

And if you want to follow me on twitter/x, youtube, and tiktok feel free 🥰

I'm staying lowkey this birthday and spending the rest of the day rewatching both seasons and working on a new chapter.

Until next time ♥️

[breathingmelancholy]

Summary: You treat Astarion's wounds after a battle and he decides to test if his hand is still performing the way it should. 

Astarion x Female reader; Astarion x Tav

Warnings: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Light dom/sub. PIV sex, Male masturbation.

Word count: 4477 words. (Yeah, I think I got carried away.)

Author's note: Please, be kind. This is my first time doing this in a long time. And english is not my native language.

You sigh. "Okay, look. You're being melodramatic," you say. "I promise I've patched you up."

"Oh really?" Astarion drawls in response. "Prove it."

This game of flirting-without-flirting-but-it-kinda-is-flirting that you and Astarion have going on can be exhausting. But it's like a dance you know every step of by now, and you know exactly how to keep him going.

"Hmm. Try to use your hand. Let's see if it still works." You teased. "Promise it's fine. You won't have any problems... Performing." She had an almost devious smile upon her lips.

"I hate you." Astarion's words don't carry any venom- he's too amused for that.

"You know you love it, though," He return with a little grin. Astarion's grin remains, but it's more sheepish now.

Oh yeah. You could keep this going for as long as you need to.

"Do I?" You teased. "And what is that, exactly?" Your eyes met his, a smirk on your lips. You rested your hands on your own lap, after finishing patching him up.

Astarion leans forward. "Hmm. Do you really need me to spell it out for you?" he asks, as he leans in closer.

It's only half flirting- you both know that- but it's enough to keep the sparks flying.

"I have no idea what you are speaking about." But your eyes said otherwise. "Use your words, love." There it was, the half smile. She breathed in slowly.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He's still leaning in towards you- it's no wonder you can feel the heat when he's so close.

"Unless you're suddenly hard of hearing," he says, before leaning in even closer, so that you could practically count his eyelashes.

"Would you like me to really spell it out for you then?" he purrs.

"Yes." You dared him, leaning in as well. "How about that?" You raised one hand, touching a lock of his hair, tucking it in behind his ear.

"Oh, you like it rough?" Astarion's voice remains low, almost a whisper as his breath brushes across the shell of your ear. He reaches a hand up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, and traces his thumb just below the outside of it.

"Is this what you wanted me to spell out, hm?" It's not a question- it's a statement, and he's a predator about to go in for the kill.

"Yes. You look so handsome begging for it." You teased, well aware that would snap him. You know how much he likes that. He teased you and you did as well, but nothing has happened until now. Maybe it was time to change that.

His fingers clamp down on your wrist, tightening around it enough to make his grip almost painful.

"Begging?" He hisses between clenched teeth, leaning even closer to you. You're only an inch away from him now.

"It is you who will be begging. For mercy." He whispers in your ear before leaning back just enough to see your face again. He waits, watching you, waiting for you to admit it.

"Try me." You teased, but didn't give in. Your smile was flirtatious, malicious. But there wasn't a hint of doubt as you leaned in, so close so he could feel your breath.

His grip tightens upon your wrist as you lean in towards him. Just as the breath catches in your throat from your faces being so close, he tugs slightly on the wrist he has a grip on, drawing you just closer enough to his face that your noses are almost touching.

He doesn't wait. The hand that was holding onto your wrist shifts, reaching up to cradle the side of your head, as his other hand moves from your other wrist to fall upon your shoulder.

His breath was hot upon your cheek.

Your lips were almost touching him, yet they haven't met. You wanted him to give in. Hands free, you rested one hand on his shoulder, the other one rested on his leg. Your gaze was firm, teasing, daring him.

"I could kiss you right now," he promises softly. His hands tighten around you, and with him being so close, you can feel everything. Even the movement of his ribs with each breath he draws in.

His breath catches for a moment as your hand rests upon his leg. How long had he been wanting this? How long had you been wanting this?

"Shall I?" He leans in slightly, just enough for you to feel his breath on your lip, teasingly close, but not quite touching.

"Do it." You dared, leaning in ever closer, close enough to brush your lips against his slightly.

This is what he was waiting for.

Astarion lets out a low noise at the touch of your lips upon his. A moan, a shiver. The hand upon your head pulls you in by the back of your scalp, angling your face just so that he can meet your lips head-on.

It isn't soft, this kiss. It's hot, and it's hungry, and it's almost animalistic in its ferocity.

But you weren't shy. If anything, you were daring. As your body leaned in to correspond his kiss, you leaned in enough so you could place yourself at his lap. "Is this what you want?" You whispered between his kiss. Your hands were now in his head, caressing the white locks of hair.

His arms wrap around you. "More than anything," he promises. His hands trail up and down your back, pulling you into him. His lips trail down your mouth and back up again, seeking out your neck.

He pulls your body on top of him, letting you rest on his lap as he continues to kiss her.

"You feel so good." he mumbles. He seems completely lost in this moment, so focused on you that it's as though you're the only thing that matters to him, the only thing that exists.

Brushing your hair away from one side of her neck, you gave him full access to it. With a soft moan, you sighed, feeling his hard body against yours. "You havent seen anything yet."

His hands trail from your back up to your shoulders, then from there down to your hips, holding you snugly against him. His teeth graze your neck, causing you to shiver.

His body shuddered in anticipation. Yes, you liked the pace at which things were going. Closing your eyes, you were at his mercy and his desires. It was clear that you would accept everything he proposed at that moment.

The kisses continue, but now they are even more wild than before. Now, instead of a slow, teasing pace, his kisses are rough. He seems to have given into his own lust and desire for you, like he can't get enough.

He kisses his way from your neck to your mouth again. The moment your lips touch, he is kissing you just as rough as before, his tongue slipping into your mouth and dueling against yours. You teased him and it was clear that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. Your body on top of his, your hands ran from his shoulders to the hem of his shirt, reaching inside, touching his pale bare skin.Your fingers trail across his skin, and he whimpers.

Astarion seems lost in this moment, like he has no thoughts or concerns beyond getting as close to you as possible. His kisses become desperate, hungry, as he pulls you down on top of him. His lips press against yours, his chest rising and falling with each breath he takes.

You were able to feel every inch of his body beneath yours. Gods, he was driving you crazy with his touch. His touch contrasted with yours, your body was heating up, but you shivered in response. Lips against his, you slowly moved your hips onto his lap, teasing him.

The moment you move you feel his breath hitch.

He whimpers.

He needs this, and he desperately wants you to give it to him. He moves his hands from your shoulder to your waist, and pulls you onto his lap, holding you on top of him as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, kissing you roughly with a hunger that seems completely untamed at this point.

You gave in and now your touch was as hungry as his. You wanted him and it was clear. You were his to do with as he pleased. Her hands rose from his stomach to his chest, bringing up his shirt. "I want to feel you." You moaned softly.

His breath hitches. Your words are like music to his ears.

And as your hands reach underneath his shirt, and begin to explore the muscles beneath, you can feel them tense. Your fingertips trail across his body, and he shivers again.

"Touch me," he begs, "Please touch me."

You removed his shirt, revealing his naked body. You touched his skin gently, the tips of your nails gently tracing his chest, teasing him. He was beautiful, especially now. "I told you I'd make you beg." You teased, a mischievous smile on your lips. Moving your body, your hand on his chest applied gentle downward pressure, motioning for his back to meet the floor. With each leg around his hips, you brought your lips to his again.

If your kisses are rough, this has now become all the more passionate. His tongue is battling against yours, and you feel his lips upon yours so strongly that it's almost as if your mouths are fused together.

The way your hand presses upon his chest causes him to let out a tiny moan of delight, his entire body tensing as your fingers trail over him.

"Is this what you want?" he whispers urgently.

"More than anything." You admitted, a smile on your lips. Your lips trailed kisses down your body, now onto his neck. Your lips were warm against his cold skin, as were your fingers that subtly traced the contours of his arms.

His neck is sensitive, the way your fingers trail down it causing him to flinch and whimper. He's almost like your plaything at this point, and he seems to absolutely love being it.

His body arches slightly with your touch, and he shivers with each movement you make. With your lips now on his neck, he whispers breathlessly.

"I need you..."

Your kisses got lower and lower on his body. Your lips were on his chest and then his stomach. Your gaze never left his. "What do you need from me, love? I want to hear you say it." You said softly, a smile on your lips.

His breath catches in his throat, his body arching as all sensation seems to be focused on his stomach, where you're kissing him.

You can see the muscles in his abs tense.

"I need you." he says, his voice a hoarse murmur. "I just- please- do anything you want with me."

You moved your hands lower, finding the buttons on his pants. "Is this what you want?" You mumbled, gently biting your lip. You never grew tired of teasing him. Observing his reactions leave you ecstatic, amazed. It was clear the effect you had on him.

His breath catches at your whisper. The buttons being undone causes him to hiss in pleasure. His body feels like it's trembling.

"Please..." he begs.

Oh, how he loves this. This teasing, this playing, the way your words and actions seem like they go hand in hand with each response from him.

Moving your body up enough so that your lips could meet his, you slid your hand inside his pants, touching him hard cock. Your gaze fixed on his, you moaned softly when you felt wrapped your fingers around him.

His entire body seemed to clench with the sensation of your touch. This was definitely something he was enjoying, your teasing, the way you seem to be able to drive him wild with one word or one touch.

His lips press against yours as he whimpers, the way his body tenses up at your touch just sending him into ecstasy.

With your fingers wrapped around erection, your started slow up and down movements. You were attentive to his body's reactions, delighting in each time his body trembled in response to your touch. You had a mischievous smile on your lips and it didn't take long for you to kiss him again, your tongue asking for permission to enter his mouth again.

He lets your tongue into his mouth gladly- he's more than willing to give you everything you want, it seems. He can't get enough of you, not your kisses, not your touch, not anything you decide to do next.

His breaths come quickly and rough now. You can feel his body trembling against yours. You can feel the sweat and heat on his body as he starts to really get into the moment.

You savor every response his body shows. Your tongue entered his mouth and you tasted him on you. It was ecstatic. Keeping up your movements, you quickened the pace of your hands gradually. "Do you like it rough?" You teased him, asking him the same question he had just asked minutes ago. But now the roles were reversed.

Astarion whimpers in response, his body tensing again with it.

"You know very well that I do," he whines to you through gritted teeth. Your touch is driving him wild, he can't believe he's let you have this much control over him. He starts to moan softly, his fingers digging into your skin.

You cracked a smile in response. Following his request, your pace is now a little faster, more rougher. You were skilled with your hands. And you wanted more of him every moment. Your lips brushed against his, hearing him moan was like a sweet melody you couldn't get enough of. Resting your forehead on his, your gaze roamed his body.

Every sound he makes, every moan, sends your heart racing. And with your pace being faster this time, this rough time, it's getting worse. The sound of his breath catching in his throat is pure ecstasy, and you can't get enough of it- nor can he get enough of you.

You start to moan back. You can't help it, but the sound of your own moans only makes things hotter.

Your free hand now went down to your own blouse, unbuttoning its buttons. Your gaze in his, you made this process slow, teasing and tempting him. The smile never left your lips and you moaned softly in response to him. You kept a rougher pace, just enough to make him crave more.

He lets out a moan as you continue to unbutton your own clothes, your hand now wandering lower.

Your tease is driving him absolutely wild. Your hands seem to be getting him closer, and closer to the edge.

His own moans grow louder, and his breathing becomes quicker. He pulls you closer, his fingers digging in tighter and tighter.

You undid the buttons on your own blouse, leaving your breasts exposed for him. Your pace was now gradually slowing down, painfully slow. You wanted to leave him wanting for more. A mischievous smile on your lips, you were amused by his desire. You wanted to push him over the edge.

Every moment he seems more and more desperate for some kind of release, and he seems to be getting closer to that edge.

The way you're handling him, it's like you want to see him break. You want to see how far you can push him. You can feel your own arousal growing with every moan he lets out in response to your teasing touch.

It felt like your body was trembling, thirsty for his touch. With her free hand, she brought one of his hands to one of her breasts and nodded softly, giving him permission to touch her in return. His every touch released sparks of electricity that coursed through her body. "I want you. In me." You pleaded in a sigh.

Astarion is almost speechless as you bring his hand to your chest. Your soft nods, the way your body trembles, they have him so desperate that he can't even get the words out properly.

Your pleading gets a guttural moan out of his lungs. His fingertips trail across you softly, his thumb dancing along that spot that sends shivers down your spine.

"Oh... please, please, I need you" he moaned back, his desperation rising with every word.

He wouldn't have to ask twice. You placed yourself on his lap again and your lips sought his. Her hands removed the rest of her blouse and moved to his cheeks, cupping his face. You still had your pants on, but not for long.

You lay on top of him in a way that puts you above him, which seems to increase your power and dominance. Your hands explore every inch of him as you kiss his mouth, your lips on his as you remove your pants.

His hands trail from your chest down to your waist and down again, exploring every inch of your body. You can hear him moaning from every touch, and even his breathing has become more and more frantic over the fact that you've taken so much control of the situation.

You removed the rest of your clothes and his in a tortuous pace. You saw him flinch at your touch, your body on top of his. Pressing your hips against him, you moved slowly, testing how long it would take for him to give in. Moaning against his lips, you smiled softly. The roles had quickly reversed and now he was the one asking for the mercy of her touch.

His moans are a low rumble in his chest. The way you're teasing him- slowly working him up to that very edge- is the perfect mixture of torture and pleasure.

He's the one begging for more now, and it's an incredible power dynamic shift. He's at your mercy now, and he's more than willing to fall right into it- and fall into you.

“Who knew…” You sighed, surprised. You were able to feel him hard beneath your and he was able to feel how aroused he made you. With your lips on his, your hands explored his body again, shuddering. That was hot. It made her want to reverse roles again, giving up control to him.

He's still letting you explore, too curious and too far gone to do much else to keep you from your touch. All he can manage is soft whispers in your ear, begging and pleading for you to keep going.

"Let's see how you do being the top now." You sighed, satisfied. This time, you were at his mercy. "Let's see if you can keep your word." You challenged him. The whole power dynamic change made you more and more excited. You were shuddering at his touch, moving subtly on his lap.

"I can do this... I will do this." he hisses back to you, his hands already traveling up your body again.

Your challenge was one that would surely be answered. His breaths are already starting to quicken, and he's already pushing against you, trying to push you down onto the bed.

"Just... lay down, okay? You're driving me crazy like this," he explains, a deep shiver flowing down his spine.

You smiled, agreeing with his request. Laying down next to him, your eyes followed every movement he made. You had given him permission and space to take control this time. You were his to toy now.

The control he takes of the situation is a thing of beauty. He's careful not to overstep any boundary, but he clearly knows just what to do to keep you on your toes, and on the edge.

Those same hands that were roaming over your body before, are now holding you down gently, but firmly, as he begins to explore your body again. Your moans rise higher, and he gives you a cheeky smirk as he sees the response that he's getting out of you.

You moaned in response to his touch, so light it made him question how loud you could be if he took it rougher. Even though you let him dominate you, you didn't stop teasing him. Your nails ran down his naked body, making him flinch. You explored every inch of him, moaning at his ear to just tease him further.

His moans rise higher as you tease him, and the way your nails trail down his body sends shivers down his spine. Your touch does not go unappreciated, and he starts to moan back- every part of him feels sensitive when you touch him.

Your whispers are like a lullaby to him. His entire body is so tense, so ready to break- but he seems to be enjoying the way you're driving him wild.

"I want you to dominate me." She whispered between moans. Parting her legs, she wrapped them around his waist. Her breath was fresh and sweet, touching his skin. You were warm to the touch and you made sure to teach him where you liked to be touched by him.

He lets out a shiver at the touch of your breath, your words giving him the push he needs to start being a bit rougher.

His hands go from holding yours to grabbing your thighs and holding your legs spread wide, keeping you in place. Your body is so warm, as you wrap your legs around his waist tightly.

His hips are now moving against you, pushing himself deep into you. His tongue is tracing your mouth passionately.

As his hips crashed into yours, you allowed a louder moan to leave your lips. Your legs were clenching around him, but he kept you in place. — F-fu.. — You couldn't even finish your sentence, intoxicated by his touch. Your lips pressing against his, you allowed him access to fall deeper into you. You brought your right hand to your clit, gently stimulating it.

He lets out a deep moan as your words are cut off. His lips meet yours again with renewed passion, as he gives you a gentle bite- nothing too hard, just enough to keep you on your toes.

His hips are moving faster and faster, as he starts to become more and more desperate for release.

You smiled, clearly amused. You felt the air leaving your lungs as you reached your edge, holding yourself to him. Bringing his body to yours, you trembled, incapable of forming words, just moan his name. "Astarion..."

The sound of your voice brings his breath to stop momentarily- he loves hearing you moaning his name. Seeing his control over your body makes every move he makes that much more powerful.

Knowing this, he now begins to stimulate you, removing your hand so he can touch you himself. His thumb moved skillfully over your clit, driving you crazy.

His hips slow only for a moment as you moan out his name, before he speeds up again- you're on the edge, ready to fall off, and he's the one with his finger on the trigger.

You whined, begging for your sweet release. Your gaze met his and your kept you eyes on him as he rocked his body against yours. "Please... I want to..." You begged.

He slowed his pace, to a somewhat rhytmn. Leaning in, he whispered in your ear.

"What you want?" He teased, his hot breath touching your skin. "Use your, darling. Beg."

"Oh, for gods sake - f-fuck me. I want cum on your cock. Please, please." As you beg and moan, he speeds up again, his lips biting your neck as he does so. Your eyes looked at him with the same hungry look as his, and the moment he senses it, he's there- pressing himself deep within you - you can feel him twitch inside you, and you feel a wave of heat rush up his body.

You moaned loader as your whole body trembled, reaching that edge. You clenched, feeling him take every sense out of you. "Gods." You whispered, out of breath. Closing your eyes, you rested your forehead on his. You were numb after all this and the rest of the camp probably heard you in his tent. But you didnt care anymore, all you wanted was to be his.

You are his. That much has been made clear. He pulls you closer to him at your words, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a sigh of contentment. His lips are pressed to yours, as he's already beginning to slow down to catch his breath.

His hands are still holding you firmly in place, refusing to let you go, his breath panting against your neck.

You kept kissing him, several pecks on his lips. But this time, you were both tired, out of breath. You sighed in relief. Even after crashing, his touch still had a effect on your body. His breath touched your skin, warm and inviting. You catched you breath slowly as your hands traced up against the skin of his arms, resting on his neck.

Your fingers caress across his skin slowly, your breaths becoming lighter as the moments go on.

The effects of the crash are still lingering, your body still shivers as he continues to rest against you. Your chest is against his. Everything feels too good, too right for this moment to be over yet- the heat of his body against yours, the softness of his skin- it's the perfect blend of the two of you, and it's the perfect way to keep each other's warmth.

Resting your forehead in his, you smiled, your eyes closed. "That was..." You sighed. Amazing, you tought. You didnt have enough to express it."You're... Gods."

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. Your bodies are pressed against each other, your breathing slowing down enough that it's not as heavy as before.

As you sigh and lay your forehead against his, he lets out a little grin.

"You're just as amazing," he replies, his words already getting softer at this point. "And I'm not sure I could ever find the words to do you justice. God, you're..."

You smiled and shut him with a slow kiss. Between the kiss, you whispered. "Let's definitely do this again. I've never felt this way before. " You were talking about the way he made your body feel, but he could sense it was more than just that. You smiled, softly. It seems like both of you lacked words to describe each other. So you didnt. You just hold him tight with tenderness.

[magicalqueennightmare]

Closer

(Eventual) Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Elijah brings a doctor to you and once you're cleared uses his blood to heal you. Both of you are coming closer to the realization that there is something forming between you.

You heard the door of your apartment opened and knew it was Elijah even before he called your name lightly. You sat up slowly in the bed, smoothing a hand over your hair as your eyes met his. An older looking man walked in behind him looking curiously at you “This our patient?” The man asked and Elijah nodded “Give me moment to give her some assistance out of the bed then you can do a quick examination”

The doctor motioned to the door “I'll step out. Just let me know when she's ready” the moment the door closed Elijah let a small smile slip onto his face “May I help you?” You nodded slowly “I need to brush my hair at least. I can only imagine just how bad I look right now”

He was to your side in a heartbeat. Even after being a hunter for as long as you had been and for being Rebekah's friend this long vampire speed still threw you off at times. He held out the hairbrush from your nightstand. “Believe me regardless of bruises you are beautiful” you could feel your cheeks warm from his words as you dropped your gaze and the realization that you couldn't lift your arms high enough to brush your hair only made them warm worse.

“I can't brush my hair” you whispered slowly, meeting his eyes again. He laid the brush down then said “Let me help you to your feet then we'll take care of that next” you moved the blanket off your legs and reached for his outstretched arm “This is embarrassing. I haven't been hurt like this in years”

He braced your body as you slowly stood then caught your eyes “You have nothing to be embarrassed of” you smiled and whispered a thank you. He nodded then gently turned your body so your back was to him. You heard him pick up the brush a half second before he gently began working it through your hair.

In no time your hair was untangled and laying around your shoulders. When you shot him a questioning look he smiled “Rebekah has always had long hair, even as a child” the thought of Elijah doing Rebekah's hair made your heart do a flip. After a moment he nodded to the door “I'll retrieve the doctor. Once I'm sure you have no internal damage I ask you let me help you heal your injuries”

You knew what he was asking. Vampiric blood held regenerative properties. Meaning it'd heal you within minutes. You hadn't wanted that, as stubborn as if sounded this was very much a human problem, one you needed to deal with on your own. “I don't want to take anything else from your family Elijah. I refuse to be a burden on anyone” he shook his head “Foolishness. You could never be a burden. Now do you want me in here while the doctor examines you?”

Did you want Elijah seeing you nearly bare? The thought made your heart race like a pack of rogue werewolves was on your ass. However you didn't know this doctor and the thought of being alone around someone you didn't know especially while you were hurt? You would take Elijah any day. “Please stay”

He smiled “Of course”

—----------

“I need to see” the doctor who'd introduced himself as David Campbell motioned to your hoodie. You nodded and reached to take it off but grimaced so Elijah's hands came to cover yours “May I?” You nodded so he slipped the soft material up over your head.

You held Elijah's gaze as David went over the massive bruises covering your body. You could see the beast lurking beneath the surface in Elijah's eyes only worsening with every injury David noted. Especially when he remarked how badly burnt your lower back was from the tazer.

When he reached to touch the burn you hissed in pain and absent-mindedly reached for Elijah who stepped closer to you with no hesitation letting you rest your head against his chest. “Shit that hurts” you mumbled against his shirt.

After a moment David made a clicking noise with his teeth then said “All in all Mister Mikaelson I must say your girl is a strong one. She has a few broken bones but no internal bleeding and from the looks of it no permanent nerve damage. It could've been a lot worse”

You ignored being called Elijah's girl to ask if you could put your hoodie back on. David said it was fine so Elijah slipped it over your head. “Sit down sweetheart. I'm going to see Doctor Campbell out then we'll talk” Sweetheart? Was he playing up David's assumption? Because hearing him say that made you freeze dead in your movements even if it had just been for a moment before you nodded and sat back down on the bed.

—----------

You watched him walk Doctor Campbell to the door and saw a relatively large wad of cash pass hands before the door was closing and Elijah was standing in front of you. “Do you agree to let me heal you?” You nodded slowly even if the idea of ingesting blood turned your stomach. “You could just leave me to heal on my own”

He shook his head “It would take you weeks or better to heal. You need to be back at full capacity as quickly as possible” you watched in silence as he took off his jacket and unbuttoned his left sleeve before rolling it up.

There was something a little overly intimate about the moment as you held his gaze while he pulled his arm up to his mouth. You saw just a hint of his fangs before they tore into the flesh of his arm, a small trail of blood running down it. He used his right hand to cup your face before holding the left arm to your mouth “Drink until I say you've had enough”

You raised an eyebrow “Normally I only like getting bossed around in bed but since you asked so nicely I'll let it go this time” he chuckled darkly “I'll remember that for a different time” you ignored the implications of his words and took a deep breath before leaning up to his arm.

The taste of the blood hit your throat and you nearly pulled away but he held you in place “Drink” was the simple command he gave and you felt your heart flip even as more blood split into your mouth. Why did he have to have this effect on you? Especially in a moment like this?

After what felt like an eternity he pulled his arm away and wiped a thumb across your lower lip, collecting the blood that had slipped from your mouth. “That should be enough. You're going to be tired but when you wake up you should be healed”

—------------------

Elijah wasn't sure what was becoming of his heart. He was letting you get under his skin, he was letting you past walls he'd long since built.

Seeing you injured had angered him beyond belief. If only you'd give him the name of those responsible he'd ensure they were never capable of causing anyone harm ever again.

From you asking him to stay with you during your examination to you reaching for him, seeking comfort from your pain, he knew he'd do anything you asked of him.

Why Rebekah had been drawn to you was achingly clear. You were a strong woman, unwilling to cower from a fight and you feared being a burden to anyone by asking for help.

When he'd ordered you to drink from his arm and you'd replied that you normally only liked getting bossed around in bed his mind had flashed to images of you, underneath him.

Your body no longer bruised and burnt from your attack, skin unblemished and him allowed to take his time to discover every inch of you. Your hands clinging to his shoulders and your body warm around him. What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to show you just how enjoyable true passion could be.

Once he was sure you'd ingested enough blood for your injuries to be healed he pulled his arm away. Your eyes were large and nearly glossy as you watched his movements especially when he used his thumb to collect the drop of blood that had dripped free to stain your lips “That should be enough. You're going to be tired but when you wake up you should be healed”

You nodded sleepily. “Thank you Elijah” His right hand was still cupping your face and he rubbed his thumb lightly against your cheek before pulling away “Rest. Rebekah or I will be here when you wake up. Then you're going to tell Niklaus and I who was responsible for this attack”

—----------------

You knew Elijah would push about who was behind the attack. It wasn't his fight, hunters were being targeted that meant it was solely in your corner. You could handle it. When you didn't reply he shook his head “You'll come to realize I have many years of learning patience. You will tell me eventually and I will make them regret the day they decided to place a finger on you”

One Question Answered

[nocturnesanomaly]

Chapter 4: I've never been one to let go

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series:The Divine Violence - Chapter 4: I've never been one to let go

Wordcount: 5.9K

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Grooming, Self-harming behaviours

Description: You share your knowledge with the team, reminding you of darker pasts, while Simon seeks to rekindle his familiarity with you.

A/N: You. Yes you. Go drink water. Right now. Good job :)

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

The meeting room has lost its fresh smell a long time ago. Too many of the early morning hours spent looking over papers and files, that are all entirely useless to you. Paperwork. It had always been the bane of your existence, even back when it truly mattered to your career. Necessary, and all the more frustrating for it.

The morning sun had already arisen to be at the perfect angle, right where its shine hits you in the eyes when you bend down to read. It had no business being that sharp in this season. It provided so little heat in the late November days, and tended to become more of a hindrance than anything.

Every file on the table listed people of interest, cities, landmarks, field reports from past agents. You flip another one over, trying your best to ignore the file that lays at the edge of the table. The list of casualties. All the crimes of the cult wrapped up into one set of clipped documents. You didn't dare look, to see how many of the names and faces you'd recognize.

"Auness, Backfield, Springview..." Gaz lists off the cities on his document, "I haven't even heard about half of these."

Soap leans over the table from across him. He snatches the paper out of his hand, despite the little protesting sounds Gaz let's out. "Ah, think I’ve been to Springview once...lovely neighbourhood," Soap says with a grin on his face.

"They're all small communities, some were only truly fostered to life after the cult's influence," you inform them. The document in your hand lists off a field report from years ago, a group of soldiers passing by Backfield only to be met with hostility. There had been 10 when they went in, 2 came out. That had been the true start of it back then, when things really derailed.

It had been all over the news for a time. It's incredible how quickly the world forgets.

"All done by the dishonourable... Michael Wilder..." Gaz picks up the document that had been placed in the middle of the table. The only person that ever took any responsibility for it all. Though never suffering the consequences for his crimes, he let it be known he was the one that stood behind it all.

"Ah expected his name to sound different....well...anything other than Michael..." Soap makes a distasteful face, leaning back in his chair. "What kind of cult leader is named Michael, it's not a very intimidating name." Rich coming from a guy named Soap, you think, but the comment never leaves your mind.

"I think that's the point," Gaz corrects, to which you can only nod.

He did have another name once upon a time, but you can scarcely remember it now. Perhaps even before you truly got to know all the things he's done. Maybe he had a nicer side once, that was lost to some tragic event from bad people. It didn't do any good to dwell on it. Who he is now is your problem.

"Murder, Torture, Arson, Kidnapping, Rural crimes...bloody hell, what hasn't this guy done," Gaz says exasperated. There’re many things that man hasn't done that he wanted to; you don't doubt that he would've done a lot worse if there hadn't been a collapse in management. He was building something grand.

"Speculative all of them...can't connect him to all of it, but there's nobody else that could have possible been responsible, the cult is a collective." You can still remember what it was like the first time you walked amongst these cultists. The clear admiration, the shock and awe, the forsaken faith in a brighter future. They might have been misguided, but they truly believed in what they were doing, there was no deceit from them.

"Shit, even something as small as vandalism, who'd have thought" Soap points to it on the list.

"He burnt down a chapel."

Both of them turn their heads to you in an instant, the surprise on their face shows most of their thought process to you. There's not much to explain, the whole ordeal was pretty straight forward. The only crime you personally had physical evidence of still.

"Ah thought they were supposed to be a religious cult..."

"They are. And still he set fire to the chapel, watched it burn down along with the surrounding forest."

You don't feel like their open mouth in awe reaction is warranted. The cult has been responsible for far worse, is planning far worse, is doing far worse as you all speak for all you know. There's only one true problem with the retelling, you're not about to bore them with the details.

"Were there people inside? Any get out?" Gaz asks carefully.

"Twenty-two, none recovered."

The silence stretches out to an uncomfortable extent. You've already made it awkward. That's got to be a record for you by now, how long has it been? Not even 30 minutes. Despite how much you want to refute your words, they are true. There is nothing remotely funny about the group of people you're after.

"There's been more documented causalities, everything is accounted for," you try to sound reassuring, but it comes out as uncertain. The two men either don't care or don't seem to notice.

A chill runs through you, unexpected, a subtle reminder of the eyes on you. Once upon a time you'd be worried about sharing too much information with the wrong kinds of people, the reminder had been helpful then, now it was a nuisance.

"At least we finally have a good shot at getting to these guys," Gaz speaks up and tries to break the uncomfortable atmosphere you've created. "This is extensive work," he nods to you and gestures to the entire table, "impressive."

Soap nods to agree, and you follow the motion idly without thinking. A little too late, you let out a rushed, "thank you."

You block out the rest of their conversation, only perking up your head when anything of relevance was shared. The two kept a good flow of idle chatter and gossip. Nothing you paid any mind to, gossip wasn't why you were here, you reminded yourself.

"So have ye ever actually spoken with any of them?" Soap asks.

"Wha..what?" You stutter. The question came seemingly out of nowhere. You almost drop the pen in your hand. It would have made an annoying clattering sound if you did. The thought makes you tighten your grip.

"They seem like a nasty bunch, preaching all of that with no remorse," Soap continues in an attempt to explain himself, "have ye met with them? Spoken to Michael?"

You want to snap at him. It's a dumb question you want to say, inappropriate and entirely irrelevant to the investigation. Except it's not.

You want to shut him down just as badly regardless.

"Uh... I..." *Fuck me* "Yeah...he's not pleasant...listen I need to get a few of these files scanned in, so I can send them over to Laswell, you two just keep at it, and I'll be back." It's an obvious lie to everyone in the room, a bad attempt at getting out for fresh air. Neither of them comments on it, and within a flash you're gone.

Opening the front door is a dreaded action. You can already imagine the battlefield you'll be entering; the feint mumble of raised voices can already be heard from your position. The minefields are always planted carefully, specific spots that you don't expect unless you've been traversing those dirts for years at a time.

It's never specific, never the same thing.

One wrong step, and you've got someone screaming down your face.

That battlefield was your home.

Opening the door only makes the feint screaming louder to your ears. You quickly locate it to be the kitchen, easy enough to avoid. Just have to kick off your shoes, place them neatly, tiptoe past the little opening and through the living room, to the stairs and your room. All without being noticed.

"Deus spes nostra, my child."

You stop abruptly. The only reason you don't let out a loud squeak of surprise, is the hand you slapped across your mouth. Your head whips towards the couch, gone are all thoughts of the perfect view into the kitchen you're right in the middle of.

Your expression falls when you realize who it is. An old friend of your father's from his military days. He sat on the couch with his usual poise and striking manner. He'd been staying here for the last two months, something about vacation, something about deployment, something about no money, something about too much money.

You had tried asking your father several times, whenever he was in the mood for your presence. Each time you got a different answer, and there was no way you'd find yourself asking the actual man himself.

In no way did you dislike him. He'd always been nice to you, making conversation in the silence, giving you gifts when you were upset. He'd almost been a part of the family since you were young, but he'd been gone for several years, and now you felt like a different person to back then.

"What?"

A grin breaks across his face. His form relaxing into the cushions behind him as he regards you just long enough that you're about to repeat yourself.

"Did your father never teach how to properly respond?"

He runs a hand over smooth blond hair, bleached you'd say, but you have no doubt he'd disagree. Ever since he had come back, he tried to make conversation with you, foster a friendship with you, trying to become some type of adult figure in your life. You don't know what you actually see him as. A man, your father’s friend, a stranger mostly.

"Respond to what?"

"Deus spes nostra, you respond with Deus lux mea est." His stare is a piercing blue, spikes digging into your soul and setting hooks in flesh and meat.

"Why," you ask sceptically.

"It's an affirmation of our faith, an identifier, so to speak." He sees the way you stare quizzically, the way your brain is picking up on the small things, learning the minor details that you haven't even realized yet.

A loud bang can be heard from the kitchen, the split and shatter of glass, and then silence. Your mind panics at the implication, old defence mechanisms going into place. You flinch and move quickly to the nearest couch, curl up on it, making yourself seem as small and unnoticeable as possible. Every fibre in your body told you to end the conversation and go to your room, but the man didn't feel like letting you go just yet.

"Easy, my child, nothing will happen to you as long as you stay with me." He speaks soft words of comfort. It does nothing to ease you.

You try to combat the tremble in your voice, you put on a fierce look, one of strength and deep hidden anger.

"I'm not a child."

He chuckles at that. Two breaths, dry, not believing.

"Oh sure, you do seem very mature for your age."

He's mocking you. It's nothing you haven't heard before, despite the truth of the statement, you were still deemed a kid by most adults in your life. You felt like you had grown faster than the others, you acted with more care, more knowledge, and somehow you still feel behind in every aspect.

"I guess...people have told me that a lot" You look towards the opening to the kitchen. All it would take was for the conversation to become too loud, to bring attention upon yourself. It would be so easy to bring on the wrath of your father or the disgust of your mother. You had the marks to count for it.

"You're a special one, your father tells me as much. I can still remember when you were younger, always a bit peculiar." That would be a head turner if you've ever heard one. There’s no part of you that actually believes his words, yet he says them with such conviction.

Any word that comes out of your father’s mouth about you has never been in a positive light. Occasionally he'll drop a hint of satisfaction whenever you do something for him, but that's as good as it's gonna get. Being called special or peculiar by your father must be more of an insult.

The man reaches out and places an unwelcome hand on your knee. He seems to notice the change in your expression. An uncertain frown settling on your lips. "Not in a bad way, dear, you've got something others don't, a potential that others can't see, but I do," he says.

That doesn't reassure you in the slightest, but the little flame in your heart is already lit.

"You're turning eightteen soon, isn't that right? Next year?" He asks and pulls back again. He takes note in the way you seem to release the tension in your shoulders. There's no longer any noise from the kitchen. You don't hear it.

"Yeah..."

He smiles.

"Have you ever thought about enlisting? Serving with your brother and sisters in arms, I'm sure it'd make your father very proud." He seems too sure, and perhaps he was right. Your father's time in the military had always been described with honour and respect. A time of his life where he did something worthwhile, it made him the man he is today.

"Uh...I...No...I haven't"

You never want to be anything like him.

"You can't be serious, Simon!" Your voice echoes throughout the graveyard. A few of the crows in the trees fly off into the sunset. Simon knew you'd react like this. He thought himself prepared for your outrage, ready to comfort you and make you understand. Your emotions are intense and renders him silent.

"You can't go! What about everything we have going on here, we had a plan you know! You can't just bail on that."

The plan had always been a fantasy, he thought you knew that. Something you would whisper aloud in the quiet of the night. Dreams of running away, of scraping enough money to get a small flat together, of helping each other through the adult years of your life, at least until you both got stable.

He had seen it for what it was, a childish fantasy. It wasn't a reliable solution.

"God, and even just listening to the stories from my dad, it's awful there, why would you want to be a part of that!"

The graveyard feels ice-cold. The spider lilies are dead. There's no warmth to gain from the lowering sun, painting the sky in gold and orange. You've never looked more beautiful than this. Emotion so evident in your eyes, and the sun's glow reflecting it. He doesn't fail to notice the tears lining your eyes, the breaths you hold in an attempt to not cry.

You look divine, an angel on earth.

The last thing he wants is to see you plunged into darkness. Something he fears will happen when he takes his departure alone. He adores you, he always has deep down, but he needs to prioritize himself, get himself out before this place kills him completely.

"I thought we were in this together! I thought you cared for us, for me, for all this!"

Your words are chipping away at his patience. Your inability to understand his side of things, the unwilling part of you that won't even try. He understands as far as it allows him to. He knows you're afraid of what will happen if you're separated. You've always struggled with believing in yourself.

He knew you'd be fine. He knew you'd find your own way out, that you could be reunited in a few years somewhere better, healthier and safer.

"We are!" he yells back, "I care so much for you, for what we have even when it's here."

"Then why won't you-"

"But I can't stay here spider, it's killing me" he cuts you off.  The words leave a sour taste on his tongue, it's the bare-bones truth that can be applied to both of you. Your own childhood homes weren't safe for neither of you. Mentally nor physically.

"I get that...but...what about me..."

"Spider, not everything is about you!" he regrets his words just as quick as they leave his mouth. He can see the look of betrayal on your face, it matches the dread he feels in his stomach. You take a retreating step backwards. "Wait-" he calls your name; he reaches for you, but you don't let him touch you.

"You have to understand, this is the only way out for me. In the military, I might actually be able to do some good," he tries to explain to you.

You're not having any of it.

"Fine, go then! Get yourself killed" you shout, turning on your heel before he can stop you. His brain screams at him to follow you, to comfort you, to get you to understand so you won't be mad at him, but he doesn't.

After years and years of searching, Simon has found that roaming the halls aimlessly has become an adequate stress relief. There are certain times of the day when the halls are completely deserted. Each step echoes and bounce off the walls around him. A rare occurrence when he doesn't care to make his steps featherlight, he let’s people hear he's coming.

It makes for a good trance of thought. He disliked most of the walks outside around base, the frost biting at his covered skin, and damp boots seeping water into his socks, but the hallways were dry and quiet. Most of the time.

He's solved a lot of internal problems this way. Stomping through the hallways deep in thought and looking as intimidating as ever. Back when he and Johnny were new and uncertain, he used to avoid him this way. One easy way to avoid someone who was always looking for you, was to always be on the move.

Of course, it hadn't worked forever, Johnny eventually found him, and made him confront his own feelings despite how uncomfortable it made him.

This time around, his thoughts drift to you. They always drift to you these days. Like a disease you've infested his thoughts, reminded him of things that was once buried deeply. There's still a lot of things unresolved between the two of you, things he wishes he could sit you down and talk to you about.

Ever since you've arrived, you had a weird effect on him. You manage to leave your presence in every room you walk into, he can almost sense where you've been, the people you've talked to. You're everywhere, and whenever he needs to find you, you disappear completely.

It's a frustrating cycle.

Perhaps for the first time, he understands how frustrated Johnny must have been those years ago when he avoided him like the plague. You seem to be doing the same thing now, whether you're conscious of it or not.

Part of him is completely fine with it. You stay out of each other's way, avoid bringing up any bad blood. It doesn't absolve his endless questions, however. He can barely focus, even when he's with Johnny, every scar of his that he lets his eyes run over, his thoughts go to yours. How did you get them, who gave them to you, are they still alive?

He could always figure it all out on his own. There was no real need to ask, but he still held a modest amount of respect for you.

He doesn't pay attention as someone zooms right past him. Whoever they were, they were in a hurry, and in his mind, it was no concern of his. More than likely just a recruit late for training, or a soldier forgetting their report.

It's only when he refocuses his eyes and sees Johnny standing in the distance with a look of disbelief on his face, that he turns around to see you zooming away in the distance, rounding a corner when you finally get far enough.

He raises his brows behind his mask, his eyes turning to narrow slightly as he pieces together a situation, which he has no context to.

"They finally get sick of you?" Simon questions broadly, his voice taking a joking tone with the man lingering in the doorway.

Johnny didn't look all that much amused, his eyes continuing to follow you until you were completely out of sight. "They're an interesting one," Johnny mumbles while letting out a sigh.

"Don't like them?"

"Ye kiddin? Ah adore the dark, mysterious, quiet bastards that somehow always enter my life" Johnny's tone comes across as sarcastic, but there's truth to his words. Early on in their relationship, Simon had been convinced that Johnny just had a huge case of saviour complex for him. He still doesn't know if it actually did start out like that, but he can say with certainty it's developed much more complex.

Simon scoffs and shakes his head. "They didn't use to be so..." he trails off, looking back at where you went as if he could catch another glimpse, but you were already gone.

"Moody?" Johnny proposes half serious.

"Distant," Simon corrects him.

Johnny nods. He walks out of the doorway, does a gesture to someone inside, and lets the door close behind him with a soft click. The hallway is plunged back into silence as the two look at each other. Simon has never really liked intense eye contact, but he makes way too much of it on purpose.

"Have ye talked to 'em yet?" Johnny walks over to the nearby wall, leaning against it lazily. He looks tired, worn out, which is a surprise from the lack of meaningful things to do over the last while. It's not completely nonsensical, Simon is well aware of how easily Johnny can be drained from lack of activity. Having something to do is what scratches that needed itch deep in his brain.

"I've tried to." Johnny doesn't look like he believes him. He would like to convince himself that it's true, but a part of him hasn't been searching for a level ground with you either. He has no idea where to start, how to re-establish that familiarity you once shared. It makes all the deep corners of his mind stir.

Johnny gives him a look he knows well. He knows he should get on it, push past any fears and at least get back on a professional standing instead of skittish cats tiptoeing around each other like the other is going to strike.

"Don't look at me like that," Simon says defensively. Johnny puts his hands up mimicking surrender, his teeth flashing through in his smile. The smirk could easily be wiped off his face, but he has no energy to do anything about it.

"Just talk to them already, ah can practically feel the tension three rooms over every time ye two are in each other's vicinity." Johnny shakes his head, before urging Simon on his way.

A droplet of sweat falls into your eyes. It stings and leaves a burning sensation behind. In any other scenario, you'd be fighting yourself to get it quickly wiped away, to get the pain to stop. Your focus is elsewhere. Plastered on the punching bag in front of you.

Each hit sends you further and further into a locked state of mind.

One two one two one two.

It keeps your thoughts occupied. Prying them away from the creeping shadows and their tempting whispers.

Miss it. Miss it.

Hit yourself. Hit yourself.

You close your eyes and continue to count.

One two one two

Bang your face against the wall till the bone inverts.

They're insistent tonight.

You switch up your stance. Circling the bag before taking it on at a different angle. You want to excuse your jittery movements on too much coffee, but you know the reminder of how close you're getting to going near that hell is enough to have you like this.

The more you think about it, the more the small whispers in your ears taunt you. A scent of sulphur and burnt flesh sometimes pass you by. It makes you do a double take in your movements, before you can tell yourself that it's not here. It doesn't make it go away, but if you focus just a little more on the red fabric of the bag instead of the red on your knuckles, then maybe it will tone itself down.

It's a futile attempt. The voices never really listened, no matter how much you answered them or ignored them. Independent of your reaction, they only seemed to want to taunt your mind. You could hardly recall back when your mind would be relatively empty, but the time had been there.

You try to circle the bag again, coming back and forth between the space you're allowed. Your respite comes in the knowledge that nobody would be here to observe your uncertainty. There was hardly anyone at the gym this late at night. The reason you chose it in the first place.

You were rusty, a bit out of shape, but you still had your technique. It had been hammered into you for years, you wouldn't forget it that easily. Each hit to the bag makes it sway slowly around, the massive weight not being very deterred by your punches.

Blood rushes through your veins, your heart pounding in your chest and causing you to breathe unevenly. It's an afterthought to put yourself through small breathing techniques between sets. Every sound that emits in the room plays into your mind, flashes images to the forefront of your brain.

The sound of the wind outside splashing against the windows. The sound of your punches against the bag. The sound of distant footsteps. The sound of a barking dog outside, one that would bear red crosses on white pelt. The sound of low murmuring all around you. The sound of a gunshot.

You whip your head around, choking on your own spit, when you're met by the sight of the man you've been avoiding. Your eyes flicker to the person behind him, made of shadows, smiles and bad omens. It puts an uneven hand on Simon's shoulder.

The sound of your beating heart is loud in your ears, you almost fear he can hear it as well. Your breath is low, uneven, easily excusable to the exercise you were doing instead of the nightmare standing there. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palm. Small droplets of blood trickle in-between your fingers.

He hands you a water bottle. It takes you by surprise, a sudden gesture of kindness. "You look about ready to collapse," his voice is gruff and tired. You bite the inside of your cheek when you accept it.

The cold water is like heaven for your dry throat. Your body graciously accepting the hydration it's clearly needed for a while now. He wasn't totally wrong about your state. You heard the whispers, how you've been looking sick the entire day. Then again when don't you.

"Thank you..." you mumble quietly, taking another gulp from it.

"Yeah..." he looks at you like he's expecting something from you.

You stare at him wearily, trying your damned hardest to discern whatever expression he's making under the mask by his eyes alone. More than anything, you wanted to pull it off of him. You wanted to see him, truly see him.

Would he have stubble? A full-on beard, maybe. Would he have the same hair length as back then, would he have smile lines, wrinkles when he laughs? His voice was deeper, would his laugh sound different now?

"We need to talk," he says your name so quietly, like he's afraid to utter it, as if you'd spring on him like a monstrous creature or haunted ghost.

"We're talking," technically you aren't, but for you this might as well be a conversation already. Heat blooms in your chest, rising unwillingly to your cheeks. Once upon a time that would've been from bashfulness, now it was more of a deep-rooted shame, a fear of your own anticipation for what's to come.

"I'm..." he stutters over his own words, "I'm not entirely sure what went wrong between us."

He pauses and your eyebrows furrow, your mouth quivering with words unspoken.

"Maybe it was something I did, being the reason, we stopped talking but..." your eyes flicker around his mask, the urge turns pained in your chest. He shakes his head. "I hope we can put it past us, for the sake of the mission."

You hand the water bottle back to him. He accepts it, but you can see in his movements how he takes it as rejection. Your eyes are clear on the target he's becoming.

"No, I..." your voice comes out raspy. You clear your throat. "I'm not sure either, what went wrong, but I hold nothing against you...Simon...I guess we just grew apart." It's a big fat lie, but the millisecond of what you'd call relief that shows in his eyes are well worth it.

He exhales his breath loud enough to be noticeable, his form sagging just a little without breaking. "You don't?" when you nod as confirmation, he matches it. "That so...I'd like to start again...I'm curious where you've been all this time, it would be nice to catch up...begin again."

That little voice in your head bristles. A quiet little thing that belongs to a childhood version of you. It wants him to shut up, to stop the pretending front he's putting on. Then there's the other little voice, a voice of reason, one that's still young and malleable. They fight over your decision-making.

He looks down at your hands, notices the feint trail of blood where you split a knuckle. His eyes go small, focusing on it a tad too long before you can pull your hands out of view from him.

Your teeth catch your lip before you make the conscious decision to let it go. "Yeah...we can...try again...from the beginning," the dry laugh you let out doesn't sound convincing, but it seems to be enough for him to buy into. Maybe all you had isn't dead just yet, and when the call comes crashing it all down, you can use the connection for your own burning benefit.

"Right..." there's a note of excitement in his voice, the slightest change in octave and rhythm. "I'll be looking forward to it," he takes his turn to leave the same way he had sneaked in. "Oh, and spider, clean yourself and the equipment up, gonna give yourself a bad reputation like that."

He's being cheeky behind that mask, you can tell. Yet the reawakening of the nickname stirs the softest of a smile to almost make it to your lips.

Your feet hurt. Every step sends another spike of pain up your legs, every swaying movement threatening to send you barrelling forward. You're late. Horribly late. Each breath catches in your throat, and you barely look at the road before you pass it. Only a loud honking alerting to just how close you were to being run over, but you couldn't stop, you had to catch him in time.

You couldn't believe you were almost missing this. Your last chance at seeing him before he leaves for good. The wind hisses in your ears, the cold burns at your uncovered feet. You couldn't believe you had let it come to this.

For the last few weeks, you had been ignoring him, only sharing the most necessary of things. There was no banter between you, no jokes or laughter, and all because you couldn't contain your own anger for his decision.

His stupid, stupid decision.

You couldn't talk him out of going.

He couldn't talk you out of resenting him for it.

The sky is on fire. Rays of the sun blinding you on your way, making you squint your eyes to see. The oranges mixed with yellows makes the clouds look unreal. It's a thing that would have stopped you if it weren't for the agonizing consequences of your decisions weighing on your shoulders. The sky meant nothing to you now.

The graveyard is a welcome sight, the rusted gate creaked open wider than normal. You zoom past it, stumbling over one of the larger rocks scattered about. It propels you forward into the yard, crashing your knees against the gravel. It cuts and stings, but the buzzing under your skin is too loud to notice.

You call out his name. Your voice holding no bounds for your desperation. The only sound that comes back is the crows squawking, the fluttering of wings as they fly far away from you. There's no answer to your call, no familiar voice sounding out to meet you, no warm hand on your shoulder that would pull you into a hug.

He's gone, you realize all too late.

One forgetting mind, two arguments with your mother, and a punishment to follow, all for nothing. You missed your window. You missed the time he'd said he'd wait. He's left and with what, the only knowledge that you're angry with him. He's putting himself in potential danger, and he thinks you resent him.

More than that, he's actually out of reach for you now.

A fear that had infested your bones long before his ugly announcement. A fear that was now no longer just a fear.

Your breathing stutters. Your vision blurs. Blues, oranges, greys and reds, blobs of nothing filling your vision spilling down your cheeks. They might as well freeze in place. Your legs refuse to obey, your body hunches over from every dry heave, every soundless sob and every claw at the ground.

You were alone now.

Yet a hand places itself on your shoulder. It spooks you enough to let out a scream, yet when you whip around, you're only met with a soft smile. The hand is too big to be Simon's, too rough and too scarred. You stare into the eyes of a different man.

A friend. An enemy. A figure you could cling your shattered mind to in your late teen angst.

"You'll be alright," he mouths the words, and you're sure he speaks them, but they never reach you.

"You can meet him again," he stands tall, watches down at your kneeling form with a twist of something that churns your stomach, "I can show you the way to him."

"What?" Your voice is barely audible.

"Through the path to God we may find redemption, and through that path you may find your friend once again, we are all the same under His light."

He tosses a lighter down on the ground next to you.

"Let me show you the path to the light."

You can smell the smoke in the air, taste the ash on your tongue, feel the blood beneath your nails.

It's too late to let go now the hook has sunk into flesh.

The flame is already lit.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, love ya! <3

Taglist: @chickennn-soupp @unlikelyaperson @ghostlythots @lilynotdilly @islnd-vybz @spicyspicyliving @kaoyamamegami

[cheeseyberg]

Part 1 Part 2

Steve is annoyed. He's trying his hardest not to be but there it is, burning low in his throat as he bites back another bitchy comment that he would really love to let fly. He keeps reminding himself that they are kids, teenagers who have been stunted by trauma and may be a little immature in areas that don't involve fighting interdimensional beings. They deserve time spent ragging on each other and if they want to include him in the teasing then that really is proof that they accept him.

But he's not an idiot, just because he's a little bit slower than the nerds who he has adopted doesn't mean he's stupid. He takes the average amount of time to make connections, it's not his fault his friend's brains all run at the speed of a supercomputer.

"Henderson, I'm not going to tell you again, watch your tone dude!" Steve allows the half bitchy comment to land in a lull of conversation so all the brats hear it, "Besides, I haven't agreed to anything yet so I don't know why you're all arguing who gets stuck with me."

The whole thing had started with the opening of a new café in town. It was across from the arcade so naturally the kids clocked it immediately and had been anxiously awaiting the grand opening. Plans were made, funds were acquired, rides were begged for and the end result was that Steve, Eddie and Nancy shared babysitting duty on the opening day. It had been a pleasant day really, Steve was happy to have adults to talk to while the kids terrorized the new shop owners. This may have been where it started to go off the rails, he realizes now. Once the lovely couple had realized they had been invaded by baby geniuses they became enamored and in a clear bid to appease and possibly distract, the next time they had visited there were signs up announcing a weekly trivia night.

The problem was the team size limits. No more than six people to a team, and Erica had made it very clear that she would not be the odd man out because of her age. In fairness, the party hadn't even suggested it, they knew Erica was a force to be reckoned with and so the splitting into two teams had commenced and now she was a hot commodity that both teams wanted. Steve was having the opposite problem.

"Nobody is questioning your numerous good qualities Steve, I'm just saying that picking you first on my team isn't like a brilliant strategic move," Dustin stumbled over the words trying to make it clear that he wasn't wanted without putting his free rides in jeopardy.

"Enough! Nobody agreed that you got to be a team captain anyway and you're being a butthead. Here's how this is going to work, adults are the team captains," Eddie's edict was met with a flurry of protests from The Party yet he continued. "Complain all you want but the more whining I hear about it, the worse it is for your characters during the next campaign!"

That shut them up, Steve wondered what he had ever done before Eddie joined their family and had real leverage to hold over them to get them to behave. Gave in, was the answer but he preferred to ignore that part.

"I'm a captain and Steve's a captain-"

"Wooooow, why aren't Robin and Nancy the captains, you misogynist?!" Max was spending too much time with Robin in Steve's opinion.

"You're spending too much time with Robin, first of all. Secondly, Robin and Nancy aren't here so they forfeit the rights to team captain. As I was saying, Steve and I are captains and we will divide you as evenly as we can. Even with Robin and Nancy we still have an odd number so we'll have to split 6 and 5 to a team. Tomorrow at movie night we'll roll to see who gets more players and then we'll divide our teams with everyone present. What say you Stevie?" Eddie ended his proclamation by turning to look at Steve, who realized he was blushing a bit at having Eddie defend him to the assembly of assholes.

"Sounds good Eds," of course he was going to agree when it was Eddie asking. He turned back to the table in time to catch a raised eyebrow between Max and El but chose to ignore it. "And, as captain and procurer of the movies, I'm vetoing any horror movies so don't even try it!"

"Freddy's Revenge is finally out though! I thought we agreed to watch it!?" Eddie's protest was the loudest.

"A creepy burned dude who kills you in your mind dreams? No thanks, we absolutely did not agree to that and I'm vetoing it forever. Watch that shit with Robin, besides, it doesn't even have Johnny Depp in it so what's the point?" Steve catches another look between the girls but this time Erica joins in, he's not sure what caused it that time. Maybe the reference to Vecna was too much. "Come on guys, seriously, pick something happy for once."

"'Mind dreams' says the team captain," he catches Mike muttering under his breath and stares him down until he gets a half shrug which is as good as he can expect as an apology from the teen.

Part 2 Part 3

[marsbarsfrommars]

truth, justice, and the problem with not telling your friends about your double life

superman; justice league | rated t | complete | 3546 words | clark kent & diana prince & bruce wayne, clark kent & the justice league, clark kent/lois | humour, fluff

summary

“Well, no,” Barry says, “But he also doesn’t call his house ‘The Fortress of Solitude’.” “I do not live in the Fortress,” Clark reiterates for what feels like the umpteenth time.

or, Clark's friend know that being Superman isn't his full-time job, right? Right?

read

under the cut or on ao3 for better formatting

notes

I know I said I'd write more elvar and I'm sure I will at some point bc I love them, but I've started watching smallville and got back into the dc fandom bc of it. my characterisation is based on a mix of the few comics I've read, smallville and other fanfictions so I really hope this isn't too ooc. I don't really know the canon timeline (and I'm not sure dc does either) so I just made something up: bruce, clark and diana met for the first time when bruce was 23 and clark 22, about half a year after clark debuted as superman, two years later they officially founded the jla and the other members joined them over the past year. the plot of this is very silly, but I hope you still enjoy it. happy holidays to everyone who celebrates! title inspired by the quote "I'm here to fight for truth, justice, and the american way." from the 1978 film (that I haven't even watch) as always, english isn't my first language so there might be grammar or spelling mistakes, but spellchek says it's fine so I don't really care as long as it's not unreadable content warnings: absolutely none this time, this is just fluff and humor

  

Clark is honestly having a great week. No world—ending events, no villains trying to kill him personally, and only one ‘you look kinda like Superman’ comment when he took off his glasses in the office. It’s a late Friday afternoon so he’s done with work for the week and can enjoy a lazy evening on the couch with Lois, watching reruns of The Great British Bake Off and commenting on the candidate's work, even though both of them don’t know the first thing about baking. He’ll make something quick and easy for dinner or, better yet, he could fly over to that really great Italian place and get them a nice pizza. Yes, he’ll do that as soon as this meeting is over. Hal has been talking almost uninterrupted for the last few minutes, and at this point Clark isn’t sure if it’s even about work still.

He glances over at Bruce, expecting to see his friend listening attentively and maybe even taking notes, but the man is sitting weirdly still, even for Batman standards. He focuses his enhanced senses on his friend for a moment and, sure enough, The Batman, known among his fellow heroes for his near absolute commitment to the job, is asleep in a League meeting. The white lenses of his cowl hide it well enough, but his even breathing and slowed heartbeat are giving him away to Clark. Clark debates lightly kicking him under the table to wake him up, but then decides against it. Bruce is running a company, being Batman and raising a hyperactive eleven-year-old all at the same time, he needs all the sleep he can get.

Hal is somehow still talking and Clark is sure that, at this point, what the Green Lantern is saying is either very serious and he should have listened intently the whole time instead of spacing out for the last five minutes, or it's deeply, deeply unserious. He decides to tune back in on the conversation and okay, the topic has somewhat strayed from official Justice League business. Hal is seemingly telling Barry and Oliver how he was part of a fraternity and even lived in the frat house for a semester in university, despite never officially signing up. Diana and J’onn are listening intently, the latter with the look of mild horror on his face exclusively reserved for people who didn’t grow up in the States hearing about a fraternity for the first time. Dinah is listening to the tale as well, albeit seeming rather bored and increasingly disgusted every time Hal says the word ‘frat house’. Bruce is undoubtedly still asleep or he would have ended this meeting minutes ago.

Apparently Clark has been staring at Hal a little too intently for a little too long while he was trying to understand what the man was even talking about because now Hal turns to him with an apologetic look on his face. “I’m sorry, Kal-El. I totally forgot to explain to you and J’onn what a fraternity is.”

This doesn’t raise any immediate red flags for Clark—which, big mistake. Is it a little odd that Hal thinks he wouldn’t know what a fraternity is? Sure, but Clark doesn’t exactly look like someone who spent a significant amount of his time in university in frat houses (it was twelve minutes in total and he regrets every single one of them), so it’s probably just that.

“I think I have already gathered all the essential facts from your story,” J’onn says before Hal can start his explanation, looking vaguely unenthusiastic at the prospect of hearing more about fraternities and frat parties and whatnot.

“And I’ve been to a frat party before, so no worries,” Clark adds. (Yes, this is about the aforementioned twelve minutes and no, he doesn’t want to elaborate.)

Hal furrows his brow, while the rest of the League, minus Diana, J’onn and Bruce, turn to them with matching questioning looks on their faces. “When did you go to a frat party?”

Now, that is definitely more than a little odd. Since when are his colleagues that interested in minor details about his private life?

“Uh, when I was in university,” Clark responds, still not seeing what the big deal is—which, again, big mistake.

“So, what?” Barry asks. “Did you just look up universities near you and walk into the first frat house you saw or was it, like, by accident?”

Now it’s Clark’s turn to furrow his brow. “No, it was in my first semester at uni and my friend dragged me along to socialise, but we left after a while because it just wasn’t nice.”

“You went to university?” Oliver asks at the same time that Hal says, “I didn’t know you had friends other than us!”

Okay, ouch. That is definitely a little hurtful. He may be a little introverted at times, but he definitely has friends other than the League, and Lois, for that matter. He stares at his friends blankly. “Yes, I went to university and yes, I have friends who aren’t you. Why would you think I didn’t?”

“Well,” Barry starts to say, then pauses and thinks for a moment before he continues. “We’re obviously very happy for you. We were honestly a little worried that you were getting lonely,”—Oliver, Hal and Dinah nod along emphatically at that bit—”It’s just a little unexpected for us with your full-time job being Superman and you living in the Fortress and stuff.”

Pause. What the fuck is happening? Clark considers about a hundred possibilities, ranging from ‘this is all a really weird dream’ to ‘my friends have somehow completely lost it in the five minutes I wasn’t listening’, before he decides that actually, none of this makes sense and the only thing he can even say to all of this is, “What?”

Oliver shoots a confused look at Barry before he picks up where the latter left off. “We’re really not trying to sound ignorant here, we just didn’t think you were very involved in the human world, apart from being Superman of course.”

“It’s not because you’re an alien,” Dinah assures him quickly, “I mean, J’onn is alien too and he has a job and everything, but your home is literally called ‘The Fortress of Solitude’.”

The others are clearly trying to explain this whole thing to him, but Clark just gets more confused with every word they say. He glances over at Diana, a pleading look in his eyes, but she just lightly shakes her head, clearly trying to hold back laughter. Apparently she understands what the hell is going on but won’t tell him. Traitor. Clark decides that, under these circumstances, now would be a good time to wake Bruce and lightly kicks him in the shin under the table. Bruce doesn’t visibly startle, but he glares at Clark with his infamous Bat-glare, which would be a lot more effective if Clark didn’t witness Lois glaring at Lombard in a similar fashion on a weekly basis when he bothered her while she was in the middle of writing an article. He's pretty desensitised to glares of all kinds at this point, thank you very much. Bruce obviously doesn’t say anything, as to not give away to the others that he has, in fact, not been attentively listening but napping for the past twenty minutes.

“I don’t live in the Fortress,” Clark says, since he is obviously on his own in this and that is the only thing he can think of.

“What do you mean?” Hal asks, a look of utter confusion visible on his face.

“I do not live in the Fortress of Solitude,” Clark repeats. “It’s kind of like my base of operations. The place where most of the surviving Kryptonian knowledge and artefacts are stored, but it's not my house or anything. Why would I want to live there anyway? It's in the Arctic and completely made of ice and that's not all that comfortable.”

“But if you don’t live in the Fortress,” Barry says slowly as if he’s piecing together critical information and not inquiring about Clark’s current place of residence, “Where do you live?”

“In my flat in Metropolis.”

Oliver looks completely lost—a sentiment Clark shares. “But how do you pay for that?”

Clark looks at his friends as if they’ve all gone spontaneously mad, which is a theory that sounds more and more realistic with every inane question they ask him. “With my money, which I earn at my job.”

“You’re getting paid to be Superman?” Hal asks, sounding scandalised and at least mildly offended.

“What? Who would even—what?” Up until this point Clark had tried to be polite and answer his colleagues' questions, no matter how strange they are, but this is too far. “Are you, and I say this with the utmost respect, are you all insane?”

Instead of an answer, he receives a round of blank stares.

“If this is a joke, please stop because I clearly don’t get it and, to be honest, I’m starting to get really concerned about you.”

Still no answers, and now Clark is starting to feel like he’s the one losing his mind. This is when Diana finally decides to chime in, and Clark can honestly say that he has never been more grateful for her. “Kal,” she says slowly, looking directly at him, “Is there a possibility you forgot to inform the rest of the League about your civilian identity? Or the fact that you even have one?”

Oh, fuck. This can not be real. This is not happening right now. This is-

“You have a civilian identity?” Oliver interrupts his train of thought in an overly incredulous tone.

“Yes, obviously,” Clark answers. “I didn’t think that was something I had to specifically tell you about. There’s a reason all of us are keeping our civilian lives private, well, all of us except Hal, maybe. But just because I don’t really talk about mine doesn’t mean I don’t have one. Batman doesn’t talk about his either, but I’m pretty sure that none of you are assuming he’s Batman full-time either, right?”

“Well, no,” Barry says, “But he also doesn’t call his house ‘The Fortress of Solitude’.”

“I do not live in the Fortress,” Clark reiterates for what feels like the umpteenth time. “And I’m not Superman full-time, I do have a civilian identity like the rest of you and I’m very sorry for not telling you, but I didn’t think it was something I had to specifically confirm for you.”

“So you really did go to a regular university and live in a normal flat in Metropolis?” Hal asks.

“Oh my God!” Clark throws his head back in exasperation. He is officially no longer having a great week. Next to him, Diana snickers. That’s it, the only League members who are getting holiday presents this year are J’onn and Bruce. Diana is officially off the list. Clark slowly dips his head back down and looks at Barry, Hal, Oliver and Dinah one after the other. “I was raised in Kansas by my parents, they are human and adopted me when I was about one year old, before any of you get any ideas. I went to high school like any other teenager would, and when I was eighteen I got into university on a football scholarship. I finished university a few years ago and now I live and work in Metropolis.”

There are a few moments of merciful silence as his friends process what he just told them, and Clark almost sighs in relief. Almost.

“Could you, uh, define ‘a few years’ a bit more clearly?” Dinah asks, obviously trying to sound tactful and not offend him.

“Yeah, how old are you exactly?” Hal adds, clearly having no such reservations.

“Twenty-six. Give or take a few months because of the adoption.”

“Twenty-six?” Barry shouts at the same time that Dinah buries her head in her hands and murmurs, “Oh God.”

“You’re not twenty-six,” Hal says firmly. “You’re not twenty-six because that would mean I’m a full two years older than you and that simply cannot be true.”

Now, this is just rude. He doesn’t act older than twenty-six, at least in his opinion, and he certainly doesn’t look it.

“Wait,” Diana interjects, “How old did you think he was?”

“I don’t know!” Hal is obviously severely distraught by the fact that Clark is a little younger than him. “Like two-, maybe three hundred years old, how would I know?”

Clark is shocked. Diana bursts out into laughter and even Bruce is struggling to hide his amusement now, the rest of the League wouldn’t notice, but it’s obvious to Clark when he glances over at him. Bruce is definitely off the holiday present list as well. Clark simply can’t hold back anymore. “Three hundred years? Are you kidding me?”

Diana laughs even harder and Clark kicks her under the table, which doesn’t phase her at all. (No, he’s not being childish. Shut up.)

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that. He probably just assumed you would be older because you’re practically immortal in comparison to some other people here.” This is the first time J’onn speaks up since the beginning of this conversation, and Clark is so very grateful for it. He knows that J’onn isn’t actively using his telepathy to read the team’s minds, but he’s never sure how much the man subconsciously picks up on. It is, however, evident that he picked up enough to know that Clark has a civilian identity. Or maybe he just has the common sense the rest of their friends seem to have misplaced, who’s to say? Clark nods weakly at him in thanks. He is so ready for this conversation to be over. All he wants to do is go home and not tell Lois about this incident when she asks him how the meeting went because he knows she would never let him live it down.

“We’re so sorry about this. This is a pretty stupid misunderstanding and we shouldn’t have made assumptions about your private life,” Dinah says because she’s a normal, sensible person, unlike the rest of his so-called friends.

“It’s fine, really,” Clark assures her. “I’m not mad, just…surprised, is a good word for it, I think, about some of your assumptions. But since it’s all cleared up now, I think it would be a good idea for all of us to end this meeting here and go home. Unless there are any other burning questions?”

While the rest of the League seems to have heard what he said, they don’t look like they will be answering him any time soon. The traitorous traitors Bruce and Diana are too busy trying not to start laughing (again) and Hal, Barry and Oliver are apparently still processing the fact that he has a life outside the Justice League and being Superman. Clark is seriously considering just getting up and leaving at this point, which would be a very rude thing to do to his friends and he knows his mum would be scolding him for it if she knew, but it’s not like they’re going to get anything productive done and the meeting should have ended at least twenty minutes ago anyway.

Then Barry shakes his head and—God help Clark—starts to speak again, “Dinah’s right. It’s just all very surreal right now. I mean, up until now we thought being Superman was what you did all day and now we find out you went to high school and uni and have a flat and a job and everything. Next, you’ll be telling us you’re actively dating or something.”

(If Clark had a time machine this would be the moment he’d travel back to later and shut himself up because Barry was clearly joking, not asking a question, and he doesn’t need to say anything in response. He just needs to nod, smile, say goodbye, get up, leave and never ever bring this situation up again. Of course this isn’t what he does, though.)

“I’m married, actually.” Shit. He didn’t mean to say that. He didn’t mean to say that at all.

“Married? You’re married?” Hal’s voice has risen at least three octaves in tone.

As his only normal friends, J’onn smiles warmly and gives him a double thumbs up (?) and Dinah rolls her eyes and mouths ‘sorry’ at him before she says, “I’m very happy for you. Congratulations.”

Clark smiles warmly at both of them, trying his best to not let his smile look too strained. This has all been a bit much.

“I can’t believe it,” Oliver mutters, because apparently the universe has condemned Clark to eternal suffering via awkward situations and annoying friends, but before he can even say anything to that, Oliver turns away from him to point an accusing finger at Bruce. “Did you know about this?”

This isn’t that bad, Clark thinks, Bruce always acts very serious in the presence of the whole League and he surely won’t contribute anything to this conversation. This is fine. But Bruce smirks and Clark can feel the horror rising in his chest like a physical thing when his friend says, “I was at the wedding. As his best man.”

All hell breaks loose at Bruce’s admission because of course it does. Barry gasps, a full on overdramatic, broadway-worthy gasp, while Hal looks like someone just punched him in the face and Oliver is staring at Bruce with the most unamused expression Clark has ever seen on him. Diana starts laughing so hard she’s crying, and Bruce looks like holding back his own laughter is causing him physical pain. (He manages it though because God forbid the Justice League ever sees him as anything other than the overly serious Dark Knight.) Clark has no idea what Dinah or J’onn are doing, he’s too busy regretting every single decision he has ever made that led him to this point.

“Okay, please calm down everyone,” Clark says and miraculously they actually do. “I am not angry at you,” he reassures them again, “But I do think you’re overreacting a little.” He would say more than that, but he really just wants the conversation to end and never be brought up again.

“A little is a bit of an understatement,” Bruce mutters under his breath. Clark shoots him a dirty look because Bruce could’ve at least helped him end this sooner. Bruce smirks at him ever so briefly. Clark rolls his eyes. “While this seems to have been very enlightening for some of you, I suggest we end this meeting now. Unless there’s an emergency, we’ll see each other next week. Diana, Kal and I will schedule something.”

And with that, the meeting finally comes to an end. Clark has never been more thankful for anything in his life. (A blatant lie.) The general commotion at the end of every meeting starts with everyone getting up and saying their goodbyes. Normally, Clark would stay behind to chat and catch up on their personal lives with Diana and Bruce, but today he’s getting out of here as fast as possible and polite. He’s almost at the door when Bruce, in front of everyone, calls out to him, “Enjoy the next episode of The Bake Off! The season 5 finale is especially good!”

Clark is going to murder him. He’ll do it, really. “One more word from you and I’ll get your son a drum set for Christmas.”

Everyone’s attention immediately shifts to Bruce, who looks absolutely mortified and rushes out of the door with a hurried ‘see you next week’. Clark follows him, leaving a confused Justice League—minus Diana and J’onn—in their wake. He can hear Barry say that the last part was surely a joke and everyone else agreeing emphatically. Apparently, the one thing more unbelievable than Clark being married is Batman being a father. If only they knew.

“Just so you know,” Bruce says as they’re walking side by side, “If you actually get Dick a drum set for Christmas, I will be repaying the favour as soon as you and Lois have children. Don’t think I won’t.”

Clark throws his head back and laughs loudly. “Then I hope you’re patient because Lois and I aren’t even thinking about having children at the moment and when we do it’s still going to be some time before they can even hold a drumstick.”

“It's a good thing then that there’s an abundance of noisy light-up toys I could buy for a baby out there.”

Clark groans.

“What do you think about a Furby? They’re nice, aren’t they?” Bruce says with a mock contemplative expression on his face.

“I’m taking your name off the potential godparent list as soon as I get home,” Clark threatens, although he’s not serious at all.

Now it’s Bruce's turn to laugh. He pats Clark’s shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. Just know that I’ll tell Lois that the League honestly thought you didn’t have a normal life and that you were three hundred years old the next time I see her.”

Clark punches him in the arm. Bruce laughs even louder.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Uncanny Valley: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Summary: Therapy isn't something you're taking too well, but if you want to keep your job, you'll continue to go. you're forced to confront thoughts and memories of your own family when you come across the father of the unsub.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"Anything you cannot relinquish when it has outlived its usefulness, possesses you. And in this materialistic age, a great many of us are possessed by our possessions." - Mildred Lisette Norman

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock is the only thing in the therapist's office that can be heard. You arrived half an hour ago but you haven't said a damn word. You look worse than last week. You have more bags under your eyes, your hair is greasy from not washing it in a week, and you look like you've been through Hell. Melissa has been taking this at your pace but if you don't start talking soon, she'll have to go to the FBI and report this.

"Would you like to take a nap?"

"If I close my eyes, I'll start to see things I wish I didn't."

"Care to elaborate on that?"

Maybe something good will come out of you telling her your problems. If you're going to be here, may as well give it a shot.

"My nightmares get pretty bad. I'm even waking my boyfriend and he barely gets enough sleep as it is."

"Nightmares about what? Prison?"

"No. I think--"

You stop yourself from finishing that sentence.

"Go on, what do you think?" she encourages.

"Being in prison wasn't as bad as it could have been. Sure, there were one or two prisoners that weren't the best, but it could have been worse. I made a friend who's still in there for a crime she didn't commit," you sigh.

"Are you using her trauma and taking it as your own?"

"No. I knew I wasn't going to be in prison for long because I didn't murder those men. I knew my team would get me out of there. I also know either my team or myself will help my friend get out. She doesn't deserve to be in there any more than I did. I'm not worried about that and I don't think was ever worried about that."

"Tell me, then, what's bothering you."

"The problem with being in a place with hundreds of mentally ill and psychotic people is that I felt everything. Some of those women were murderers, robbers, and arsonists, and I felt everything," you whisper painfully. 

"All of their fear, their concerns, their worries, and their sadness. Every emotion perceived to be negative, I felt. There was no happiness. There was no light in all of that darkness. I got bombarded with energy and I think it's still stuck to me because I can still feel it. Their fear is fueling my own. Every time I close my eyes, I think I'm going to wake up back in that cell and relive that nightmare. Every time I close my eyes, I'm back in that car with those four men only this time, it's one. It might have only been one back then. I don't know anymore," you cry.

Melissa grabs her tissue box and hands it to you. You hate feeling this way. You hate that you're even here, but you know you have to be. If you want to get better, and you know you do, then you have to be honest with her and accept that she's only trying to help.

"You were raped at such a young age. The mind has a weird way of protecting the person. You might have projected four men from that one because of how scared you were."

"It happened such a long time ago. I've made my peace with it. I've met my daughter because of it. I'm having visions in the day about it. I came to terms with it so I don't know why I keep having nightmares about it."

"Your body might have been exhaled from it but your mind hasn't."

"You know, I used to let people's fear control me, but I've grown and gotten over that. Now, I feel people's pain but it doesn't control me. Until I went to prison and all that growth, all that learning just went away."

"If the energies and emotions were as high as you say they were, that might have triggered something in your brain and caused you to go backward a few steps."

"What do I do?" you cry.

"I don't suggest this to all of my clients but Image Rehearsal Therapy might help you. What it is, essentially, is rewriting your nightmares and confronting them head-on instead of avoiding them. It'll help reduce your nightmares, insomnia, and with your trauma symptoms.

"The four steps with IRT are writing down your nightmares and getting them on paper, rewriting them so they either have happier endings or have a better outcome, inducing the intention to redream these now rewritten nightmares before falling asleep, and repeat until you no longer fear them.

"You don't have to do this with all of your nightmares so choose a few core ones that really bother you and we take these steps one nightmare at a time. If done correctly, you'll start to notice fewer nightmares until there are no more," she explains.

"I've done this before. Can you believe I used to have nightmares as a child? I even have two journals filled with rewritten dreams."

"How did that work for you then?"

"It worked at that time. I got so used to seeing those bad things that I wasn't afraid anymore."

"I think this might work now but in order for it to work properly, you need to be doing this every day. Even if you manage to write two sentences. Every day, you need to be writing in those journals and reprogramming your brain into chasing those fears off."

"Okay, I'll try," you nod.

You leave your morning appointment with a slight headache. You get to work to see everyone else already there. Spencer greets you with a kiss and takes your bag from you. He would have waited for you after your appointment but he was playing a game of chess in the park. You told him it was alright to go on without you which is why you two are just now meeting here for the first time today.

"How was chess?" you smile tiredly.

"Riveting. How was therapy?"

Your bottom lip trembles at the thought of having to relive that session. You see Hotch and Rossi in the briefing room and clear your throat.

"The team's waiting up there."

He understands your desire to not want to talk about it, and he's not going to force you. If you ever feel safe enough to tell him, he'll listen but those sessions are for you to heal on your own. He'll help in any way he can which you appreciate. He's been so patient since you got out of prison. You'll honestly never find anyone better than him.

Hotch is abc as the permanent unit chief for the team. Strauss must have granted him his privileges back, and Derek had no problem stepping down to let Hotch back in the place he belonged.

"Rita Stuart, twenty-five, is the second victim in Atlantic City."

JJ puts a picture up on the screen of Rita. She was found dead in a cart on a merry-go-round wearing a blue dress.

"That's a pretty public spot for a dump site."

"Technically, I think it would qualify more as a disposal site. You don't leave a body on a merry-go-round out of convenience."

"He took some time with her appearance, didn't he?" Emily asks.

"Yeah. Her nails were polished, her hair was cut, and her clothes were brand-new. He wanted her to look her best when found. That's a lot of remorse."

"Who is victim number one?" Hotch asks.

"Stacia Jackson, twenty-nine." Stacia's picture is of her found at a playground sitting on the swings. "She was found at a local playground."

"That's a change in victimology."

Rita was a white red-headed girl and Stacia was a young black woman. That's a huge jump in picking out victims.

"What's the connection between these women?"

"There is none. Rita was married and Stacia was single. Rita worked at a diner and Stacia was a corporate lawyer. According to their credit cards, they never came within ten miles of each other."

"Both women were taken two months ago?"

"Yeah, they lived such completely different lives. The police didn't tie their abduction together until now."

"Was there any evidence of sexual assault?"

"No, there wasn't even any evidence of violence."

"How did they die?"

"Rita had a stroke and Stacia had a brain hemorrhage."

"Look at this," Spencer says as he is looking through the files, "the unsub gave them a battery of drugs like Atracurium and Doxacurium. These are neural inhibitors. They block signals from the brain to the muscles."

"He put them in medical comas for two months?" JJ gasps.

"Actually, they weren't in a coma. You'd need phenobarbital to keep them unconscious and they didn't have that."

"Wait, these victims were paralyzed but were still conscious?"

"Yeah. They could open their eyes, hear, and probably even feel stimulation. Physical immobility but mental awareness. This unsub wants total domination over them, and he turns their bodies into prisons to do it."

"Wheels up in twenty," Hotch declares.

The team shuffles out of the room but you stay behind so it's just you two.

"Hey, first, welcome back," you smile. "I'm sure you heard that Derek made me go to therapy but he's not unit chief anymore--"

"You're still going," Hotch says and leaves the room.

You sigh in frustration and watch your team from the window. This is gonna suck. You arrive at the plane at the same time as everyone else and pick up the conversation you left behind in the briefing room.

"Keeping women in a conscious paralysis reads as sadism. It's definitely dehumanizing by reducing them to objects, but there's nothing else about this profile that takes us down that path."

"These women were found in excellent condition. There was no evidence of bed sores and they were well fed through an IV," JJ says.

"His access to IVs and drugs makes it almost certain he has medical training."

"Are we sure this is a he?" you ask. "The care this unsub shows these victims, although they are dehumanized, says female."

"What about the postmortem posing? That's a lot of dead weight for a woman to carry."

So? Is he implying women can't be strong enough to carry someone? Don't get ahead of yourself, Y/N. He's not directing it to you. No one is out to get you. Calm down.

"These women are petite. They're under a hundred pounds."

"Okay, if we reconsider the gender of the profile, what changes?"

"Nothing. If anything, it fits better. Men kill to fulfill a sexual compulsion. Women don't. You see this in Angel of Mercy killers like Genene Jones and Amy Archer. They didn't care about race or hair color. It's men that do."

Penelope logged onto video chat right before Spencer had time to finish talking. She heard the last sentence he said and agreed completely.

"Damn straight men do."

Derek looks at her and he is shocked to see she is sporting red hair.

"Hello, Red. Look at you. Guys, look at her."

He turns the computer so everyone can see her, and she gives a big smile. She's beautiful but you keep quiet while everyone praises her for her looks. It's hard to find the energy to care about a lot of things these days. Is that depression or just plain anxiety? You're not sure anymore.

"Garcia, what did you find out about the clothing the unsub's dressing the victims in?" Hotch asks, getting everyone back on track.

"Only that both garments were made from chiffon, but with the wonder twin powers of the Atlantic City Police and my impeccable eye for fashion, we have also determined that these garments fit ridiculously well. They're super flattering to each victim's exact measurements, kind of exactly like the unsub whipped them up herself."

"Maybe that's what connects the victims. Maybe she isn't just killing petite women because they're easier to abduct and pose, but because of a physical type. She wants a body type. She could be sewing these clothes for specific women."

"Please tell me she is not killing these women because she needs human models," JJ sighs. "I mean, there's gotta be more to it than that."

"There probably is, but we at least have a start on the victimology."

"Prentiss and Morgan, I want you to interview the victims' families. Talk to them about lifestyle choices and any body image issues these women may have had." Hotch looks at Spencer only to notice he is holding your hand. He knows you're having trouble and decides it's best if he keeps you with Spencer for the time being. "Reid, take Y/N and go to Rita's autopsy. See if the drugs point to any specific medical training the unsub might have had. Dave and I will go to the disposal site. Garcia, I want you to check missing persons reports for the last two months. See if any abductions match what we know. We need to find out if the unsub's already taken another victim."

You have a bit of time to relax before the plane lands, and Spencer kisses your head to silently let you know he is here with you. You lean your head on his shoulder and take comfort where you can when you can.

x

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[anshares]

Another continuation art from my Cat AU from renheng week

Full plot below the cut

Ren - Slytherin House

Dan Heng - RavenClaw House

Ren and Dan Heng are both wizards but they are exes, Ren’s next class is potions which was DH last class and he stayed behind because he is still doing his extracurricular homework but Ren doesn't know that his ex is there so when he opens the door He accidentally bumped into him.

Meanwhile, Dan Heng who just finished making his special assignment potion accidentally spilled it all on Ren and it turned him into a cat. Both were shocked about the turn of events and just stared at each other for a while letting it all sink in.

They haven't met again since their break up half a year ago so this was unexpected, now Ren is giving off ominous vibes and is very angry that he got turned into a cat BY HIS EX but it's not his fault it wasn't as if he knew he would be there!

But now he is stuck as a cat. Dan heng better turn him back or else! DH apologized for the accident and said that he’ll take responsibility and turn him back to normal but all said reluctantly because he doesn't really wanna be around him after their bad break up months ago but the sooner he fixes this the sooner they go back to their separate ways.

So he goes back to the common room/lobby with Ren in tow. When his friends see Ren they all coo at him, the twins try to touch him but got clawed and March took a lot of pics (Ren hates every minute of it)

"Ommgggg he is so chonky i could squish the lil guy!!"

" hey dh did you get a familiar??"

" does the cat have a name?"

"Sesame...."

Ren: *bombastic side eye*

No way DH will tell them that the very cat was his ex that he cried over 6 months ago but they don't need to know that) so he just speed walks afterwards to his room where he will try to come up with a plan. Ren stays a cat for quite a while (a few weeks) and is being a general menace like how cats are, he is especially hostile to DH other roommates (he isn't jealous of them esp caelus, definitely not! whatever DH does afterwards isnt any of his concern they are already over but he almost clawed their eyes out tho when they try to pick him up for cuddles or selfie)

Ren is super annoyed that everyone flirts with DH altho DH doesn't notice it so Ren just attacks them suddenly. DH stops him everytime and confused what his problem is so you'll see a cat in the corner with glowing menacing eyes no one gets close to dh now except his friends ever since he got a familiar

While DH was pulling an all nighter for reversal potion and Ren was sleeping on the table where DH works. DH unconsciously pets Ren like how he did back when they were together just like how Ren likes it. Ren starts purring and leans to DH touch.

Ren opens his eyes to see DH soft smile but then he wakes up fully hisses at DH and goes to a random corner away from DH but Ren was so conflicted on why it felt good and just sulks in the corner but then over time he finally goes to DH lap for some pets but be giving off the “hmph it's not like I'm asking for pets or anything it's just warm here” and he enjoys it a lot and even falls asleep on dh lap everytime (he doesn't want to admit it but he misses DH too, he doesn't even remember why they broke up in the first place)

During his stay with DH he also overhears DH friends talk about him like how they are happy that DH is doing well now after the break up incident half a year ago and how he locked himself in his room then.

 DH seemed happier now, basically Ren finds out that he wasn't the only one affected over their break up since he only saw DH's stoic expression so he thought that DH didn't care. On the contrary he cares A LOT he just has a bad habit of bottling his emotions.

There's also one thing he is bothered about, he knows that DH is a vidyahara, one of the legendary dragon races its quite rare to see one in person and most are in hiding.

He noticed that DH doesn't let out his true form in front of his friends, he knows how uncomfortable it is to hide all his other features DH told him that when they were still together but now he is in his human disguise 24/7.

Ren wants to know how long this has been going cuz that must've been uncomfortable. Apparently the transformation potion that DH was making was for himself (he just calls it special assignment so that no one except the teacher know)

He is not very comfortable in telling people what he actually is especially since vidyadharas are still looked at with disdain due to what his ancestor did a few thousand years ago. So Ren jumped to DH shoulders and pawed at DH earrings

DH knew that he is asking on why he is hiding his form even at his own home. Its DH closely guarded secret and even if he thinks of them as family he doesn't know how they'll react to it especially with his race’s bad rep.

He doesn't want to ruin their friendship and he tells Ren not to worry he got used to it now and not as painful as before. Ren realizes that DH trusts him enough to let him know and be out in full form whenever he is in Ren’s home. Ren was guilty that the one DH trusts the most, trusts enough to be in his true self is also the one who broke his heart.

He tries to apologize by cuddling and stares at him that he didn't need to hide it in front of him so DH lets the dragon form out and they cuddle to sleep.

DH made several potions to try on Ren but all it did was either make him floofier or lengthen his claws so they have no choice but to consult professor Kafka so DH told the her about the contents of the potion and other details while Ren just chills in DH's shoulder so they find out that they just have to wait for the potion to wear off and basing from what DH said, it should wear off a few days from now!

Kafka also jokingly says that  DH could just kiss him to turn him back into a human. Ren hissed and DH refused, saying it'll be awkward so they went back to DH apartment. Since it'll be off in a few days they just spend the day like normal and while DH was sleeping on the couch since the all nighters are catching up to him.

Ren licks his face (cuz DH is too adorable he couldn't resist and his way of thanking him) DH half awake just cuddles Ren and kisses him and POOF Ren is back to human and naked. Both of them are blushing like crazy and DH roommates walked in on that scene 

March, caelus, stelle: .....

Ren and dh:...... *blushing like crazy*

Stelle: errr you know this is a public place right...?

Caelus: *slowly closing the door* aight! Well leave you guys sorry for disturbing whatever it is you are gonna do!! Byyyeee!!!

Anyway once ren is all decent he called back his roommates and explained stuff but both ren and DH has to address the elephant in the room on where do they go from here do they go back to being strangers or talk it out and see where it goes so they decided to have their long overdue talk and found out that both are miserable without each other and that they still do love each other or how they missed each other’s presence, so in the end they got back together.

Bonus:

- ren turned back to human not because of the kiss its because the potion wore off at that exact time

- sure he is back to human but he is still has cat ears and tail for another month

- ren still retains cat like tendecies whenever he and dh cuddle/kiss his tail wags and his ears twitch. Dh thinks its adorable

-THE END-

[panda-writes-kpop]

What does a demon and a function have in common? (You can test both of their limits!) - l. yb.

a/n: happy dami day! i know the timeline of this fic is messy, but just pretend that it's all okay and I will too :) also I wrote this because I was trying to understand my feelings as an aroace person towards love and I'm still really confused... but at least we got a good fic out of it! ❤️

tw: demons, undefined magic, lots of mentions of death, implied aroace! reader, a bit of religious trauma

word count: 2.6k

summary: you're in distress over your math homework and the pretty demon that helps you with it, and you're reluctant to let your heart do the talking since it ended pretty badly for your friend and her demon companion.

related fics: Demon! SuA - Tainted Love

♡ Masterlist ♡

You shouldn't do this.

You glare at the leather-bound book in front of you as you furiously erase another answer from your sheet of scratch paper. The book was a gift from a friend, one that had struggled with a demonic relationship before.

You hadn't heard from them in a year and a half, and from what you heard from mutual friends, they weren't doing too well. Although you weren't positive that the book was bad news, you had never seen your friend so desperate to remove an object from their grasp.

After doing a bit of research, you realized that it was a cursed tome. There were seven different markings on the cover, which meant that seven different demons were tied to the book. Luckily, only one had been released when your friend had opened the book.

Now, you had to be the one to safeguard it. To make sure that no one would ever be hurt by the book again.

But, as you stare at your Calculus homework, you realize that you have no idea what you're fucking doing. And at 10 p.m. the night before an exam, the tutoring center is closed and the professor is probably counting sheep while their students are stressing out.

You're well aware that it's a stupid, very dumb, unintelligent idea to open a cursed book in order to understand Calculus, but what other choice do you have? Do you fail this exam then fail the class, which would put you a year behind?

What would your peers say?

What would your family say?

A shiver down your back, from the looming threat of parental disappointment, causes you to drop your pencil and reach for the book. Your hand gently traces the seven etchings on the cover, and you notice that one isn't filled in with color. 

The demon that took my friend away.

You really shouldn't be doing this.

You think about the laundry list of concepts that you have to master by 10 a.m. tomorrow, and your decision has never been easier.

I'd rather stick my hand in an open flame than do another problem with no help.

When you open the book, you realize that you're blissfully unaware of how to summon a demon. Do you say a bunch of random words in Latin? Do you do a little hand motion? Do you need an offering?

You decide that your best option at summoning a demon that won't smite you immediately is to plead with the book.

Because desperate never goes out of style.

“Listen, I don't know who I'm talking to, if I'm even talking to anyone in the first place. I'm having a problem. …Well, it's not a ‘the fate of the world rests in your hands’ type of problem, but I still could use some help.”

An orange trail of smoke leaves the book in your hands and swirls like a tornado in an empty spot in your living room. Objects start flying around because of the tailwind, and you have to duck before you take a pencil to the eyeball. 

“Who knew Calculus homework could be deadly?” You joke as you try to not think about the magnitude of the situation that you're in. You haven't even met the demon yet, and the smoke that it creates(?) it is trying to kill you.

Not a good sign.

Once your apartment is messy enough for your demon of choice, the book in your hands shuts itself as the orange smoke starts to dissipate. 

You set the book aside as you gawk at the woman- no, demon that stands in your living room. 

She's dressed in all black, ready to go to a funeral.

You just have to hope that it's not yours.

“How can I assist you?” She softly asks in a semi-uninterested voice.

“I need help with Calculus.” You blurt out as she clocks her head at you.

“I beg your pardon?”

~

This demon was exceptionally smart, which was good for your tired, mortal mind. She also didn't kill you on the spot - a good thing, you assume, unless the murder is waiting for you on the other side of the Calculus homework.

She was taken aback by your request, staring at you in utter surprise until she joined your side and helped you with your homework.

Her voice was gentle and smooth, and you would've fallen asleep if you weren't thinking about being killed in your sleep.

“Thanks.” You rub your eyes as you set the pencil down as you check your phone for the time.

You're proud of yourself for putting your phone on dark mode (you've flash-banged yourself in the past, it's a one time mistake) as you realize that it's only one in the morning. With a few hours of sleep and a large container of your favorite caffeinated drink, you'd be fine for your exam.

“Is that all you needed? …A bit of guidance with math?” The woman sitting beside you is in disbelief as you nod your head.

“Is there something wrong with that?” You joke, momentarily forgetting that she's a demon.

“Forgive me, but the people who usually hold the tome are more demanding… and a lot less cute.”

“Okay, back into the book you go.” You toss the book her way before trying to hide her embarrassment. 

She chuckles softly before running her fingers over the spine.

“You have no idea how any of this works, right?”

“Uh-huh.” You nod your head before starting to put your school stuff away.

“Right, right.” Her eyes meet yours for a moment. “Dami.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head at her, but she snaps her fingers and disappears with the book in an instance.

Well, that damn book is out of my sight and I now have a chance to pass my Calc exam. I'll take that as a win-win.

~

You don't remember climbing into bed last night (this morning? The days are blending together at this point).

Before leaving your apartment, you say a small prayer before grabbing your pick-me-up of choice from the fridge. You might have this exam on lock.

As you walk to class, you recite Calculus formulas in your head. Partial derivatives swirl around your mind along with the thought of the mysterious woman.

Dami?

She's not a directional derivative, so you should focus on something else. 

You, at least, had the demon situation under control.

 ~

This semester, you officially renounced your academic weapon status; instead, you were an academic victim. Although you most definitely messed up the first problem (why do all of the problems have the same wording yet completely different solutions?), you had the rest of it down.

Your confidence evaporated when the two classmates behind you started discussing their answers and got completely different answers to you. 

Maybe another semester here wouldn't be so bad?

“You did fine.” 

You jump as your eyes lock with the demon from the night before.

“Sorry, sorry.” You apologize to the two people behind you as you step to the side to speak with Dami. “I like your confidence in me, and I wish I had a fraction of it for myself.”

“There's nothing wrong with having a little pride.” She shrugs as the doors to the lecture hall open.

“Well, at least there's another exam a few weeks after spring break.” Ryujin shrugs before closing the door and walking towards you. “How'd the exam go for you?”

“It was okay.” You softly shrug as you glance between Dami and Ryujin.

“You're too humble for how smart you are.” Ryujin scoffs before turning to Dami. “You new here?”

“I'm just visiting someone.” Dami winks at you, and your eyes avert her gaze afterwards.

Ryujin sighs before adjusting her backpack and clearing her throat.

“They're not interested in guys or girls…. or anyone, for that matter.”

You playfully smack Ryujjn's shoulder before she pretends to be in extreme pain from the hit.

“It's not an absolute thing. I'll know if there's someone I'm interested in.” You nonchalantly say as Ryujin checks her smart watch.

“Oh shit, I've got class in fifteen minutes halfway across campus. See ya!” Ryujin waves to you both before offering a nod to Dami. “Nice to meet you.”

She runs off in another direction as your attention turns to Dami.

“Why are you here, if you don't mind me asking?”

“I haven't been out of that book for centuries. I just wanted to see how humans lived.” Dami folds her arms before walking to you. “The world is so much different… better, if you ask me.”

“You're not like any demon I've heard of.” You blurt out before biting your tongue. “Sorry, that's probably really mean to say-”

“It's okay, and to be honest, I'd be surprised if I was like any other demon that you met. Not all demons fall from the sky, you know.”

~

It's been three hours, and you're still trying to come to terms with the fact that Dami’s a fallen angel. Who says that to someone after only two interactions with them?

Dami, apparently, because she's been watching you like a hawk as you sit across from her in the campus library.

“You think of me differently, don't you?” 

You don't look up from your computer as you tap your pencil against the desk three times.

Click. Click. Click.

“I don't.” You calmly say before writing an equation in your notebook. “I should be honest with you, though, since you were honest with me. It's only fair.”

You pause for a moment as Dami folds her arms and leans against the chair. She's trying to remain cool, but a small twitch in her left eye tells you that she's more interested than she appears to be.

It's cute.

“I had a friend who summoned a demon from that book… I don't know her name, and I don't want to. She ruined my friend’s life, Dami.” You explain your friend’s story, going through agonizing detail as told through their family and other friends.

You have to pause once to wipe your tears, and Dami offers a comforting hand as the other drops to her side. You, albeit hesitantly, take it. 

She should be cold like ice- undead, unfeeling. But there's some sort of warmth in her touch that can't be explained by the hellfire that she resides in.

Perhaps she's already gotten attached to you. You feel it too, you want to trust her. Can you, though?

She hasn't torn your arm off yet, so you're starting off on the right foot.

Trauma dumping counts as bonding, right?

You bite your lip before shaking your head, feeling the uncertainty of everything crash against you. What are you doing, trusting a demon that hurt someone that you care deeply about?

I can't do this.

“I should go.” You pull your hand out of her grasp as you quickly try to pack your things up. “I'm sorry, I'm probably shit-talking one of your friends that you've known for centuries.”

As you reach for your pencil, Dami grabs your wrist.

“I can't promise that I'm a ‘good’ demon or person,” She softly exhales before looking in your eyes, “but I won't betray you. Not now. Not ever.”

Something pounds, but it's not your head, swimming from the thoughts of your friends and the demon in front of you.

It comes from deep inside you, a feeling that you thought would be forever foreign to you. A magical feeling that “normal” people got to feel. The thing that makes them human, after all.

Your heart pounds.

This isn't you. You need to leave. Now.

Without exchanging another word, you run off into the afternoon light. You know she might follow you, but you hope she'll give you some space. 

I hope she doesn't hate me.

You need to get a grip, and fast, before you rock the boat that's been steadily keeping you afloat for years.

~

Five hours. That's the longest you can last in a little internet cafe before you put your tail between your legs and head home. You know Dami will be there, and you don't want to sleep on a park bench, so home it is.

Will she be mad at me?

Who cares? You're not in love with her, you just like her. 

As a friend. 

As someone you can hang out with. 

Someone to share secrets with.

Friends can kiss, right?

You've known her for less than twenty-four hours. You need to find where your sense of reality has gone and reclaim it before you head into your apartment.

But the key is already in your hand.

Your feet walk up the stairs without your brain telling them to.

You unlock your apartment door to see someone quietly sitting on your couch - the same spot where she helped you with your math homework.

Your stomach and heart fill with dread as you slowly take off your shoes.

She's been kind to you, and you ran off because you were upset about your own feelings.

You felt like a petulant child.

“I'm sorry for running off. I got upset thinking about my friend, and I should have talked through my feelings like a fucking adult. You're not like the other demon, just as I'm not like my friend. Feeling trapped by someone else’s opinions of you is rough,” You toss the keys on the counter before shedding your coat, “trust me, I know.”

Dami looks back to you, and the moonlight casts her in an angelic glow - she was ethereal and you didn't doubt that she was once an angel. You'd be more surprised if she wasn't one of God’s favorites.

Why was she here, instead of in the sky? 

You don't want to pry, but Dami’s the first one to walk towards you.

“I was worried about you,” She softly admits, “a demon, a former angel, a creature much older than you could comprehend, was worried about the safety of a mortal.”

When she is close enough for you to reach out for her, she reaches out her hand.

“I'm not an evil demon or a perfect angel. But I can promise you-”

“I think I like you.” The words spill out of your lips before you can truly think about what you're saying. “I mean, of course I like you, but it's not how I've liked anyone before. I like Ryujin as a friend, she's nice to me and we get lunch sometimes. But you… you're different. And being different scares me. It's not just because you're a demon, it's who you are. It wouldn't matter if you were a demon, angel, or human because I'd still feel the same way.”

You pause to take a breath.

“I'm not normal, and I'm probably not like any human you've met. I don't want a traditional romance with a wedding or kids. I don't want physical intimacy with someone who won't appreciate me. Hell, I don't even know if I want a partner half of the time. The only thing I know,” You take her hand before pulling Dami closer, “is that I want you to be by my side. As a friend or as something more. Whatever we will be, I know we'll figure it out together.”

“I want you by my side as well.” She softly mutters as you place your forehead against hers.

You're both quiet as you envelope yourselves in the serene environment that you've created.

“So, do I meet your devilish friends now, or do I have to take you to dinner first?”

Dami laughs warmly before pulling you close to her.

“Whatever you want.”

You're in deep. She has in her talons sunk deep under your skin, in less than a day. 

She could betray you.

You had to learn how to trust her.

And in time, you will.

[tams-writeblr]

Love in a hopeless Place 21

Synopsis: She was barely grown up, when she stepped into the bar that was the center of Zaun's resistance. The people she met there would forever change her life, and one of them especially. Silco x reader/OC; first-person POV; overall rating: E for Explicit; canon-compliant (though I might make a stretch on the timeline here and there to make things fit my symbolism); age gap! (younger female, older male); 9 chapters; 45k; cis female reader/POV; no beta-reader; completed Chapter ratings/warnings: E for Explicit, smut! oral (male receiving) unprotected intercourse, a teeny tiny praise kink, but don't we all have that? strong language Wordcount: <1k Author's note: I swear all the smut has a meaning, it's not just being horny, okay? xD No of course I try to keep everyone entertained but it all serves a purpose, really. But I recommend fasteing your seat belts before the grand finale of Act II. Comments would be appreciated!

Today's music recommendation: Freya Ridings - I can't hear it now

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Act II

Chapter III

Part 8/9

Vander soon found out, that Silco was still alive, and from what I was told, he seemed relieved about it. He still came to our store to tell me he would get a new vendor if I decided to stay with Silco.

My father, who didn't know the full story, told him, that he wouldn't tell me, who I saw and that he had enough private customers to make do.

Vander didn't lay an eye on me before storming off again.

I tried explaining, but my father didn't want to know.

"I told you, Silco is trouble. But you need to know what you do."

Honestly? I had trouble getting used to Silco's new face. The way his left eye stared at you, even when he was asleep, was unsettling, to put it carefully.

It didn't help, that he pulled away from me more and more and didn't even show me his face anymore, let alone let me touch it. We did see the doc again, but he also told us that the nerve damage would be permanent. The contaminated water had basically poisoned all the edges of all the wounds and a lot of skin, muscle and tissue had died and was still dying. Silco just left the office without saying a word, and I yet again had to run after him like a little dog.

I knew he felt desperate, but I didn't have the right words to give him the reassurance that he might have needed. I could just let him know that I was at his side, that I would not leave him about superficial things. That we'd go through the hardships the world threw at us together. But I wasn't sure if he even listened to me.

At night, he often got out of bed, covered in a sweat, but he wouldn't tell me, what he had dreamed about.

I again found myself in the position to be sent back to sleep. And when I got up, he was hunched over his desk, reading his chemistry books and making cryptic notes that he hid from me carefully. I begged him to not touch explosives anymore, and he promised me it wasn't anything like that.

"I miss you," I whispered into his ear one evening, as he had been working for hours already again. "Come to bed with me. You haven't touched me in weeks." I felt him stiffen under my arms, which were wrapped around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he murmured and neatly closed his books. "I've been very in my own head after everything that happened."

"I get that," I murmured. "It's understandable. So let me make you feel better, will you?"

He pushed his chair away from the desk as I swayed around it to stand between his legs.

I kissed him, slowly at first, but he quickly wrapped his arms around me, engulfing me in his embrace.

"I missed you too," he admitted and looked at me carefully, as I slowly got on my knees. His head fell on the backrest in anticipation. "Kid, you don't have to - I know you don't like-"

I shushed him by unbuttoning his pants. "As long as your hands stay on these fucking hand rests, we won't have a problem." I took his half-erected dick out of his restriction and gave him a few strokes so he reached his full size, receiving a moan as rewards.

"So, you tell me, I can't touch you?"

"Hm-hmm," I hummed with my lips against his tip.

"Unfair," he wailed, but quickly shut up as I took him to the mouth.

I loved hearing the armrests creak over how hard he clutched them, and I mimicked the gesture with his thighs.

"You drive me insane," he moaned.

I grabbed his thighs harder, as he moved his hips against my mouth.

"I'm sorry, I can't," he panted. "Up with you. It's my turn."

I would have preferred if he just threw me on the desk to do the deed, but he carefully carried me to the bed to get down in me. Luckily, I was allowed to touch him, even if I painfully missed playing with his lush hair. I still scratched his scalp as he sucked me over the edge. I got not much time to recover as he quickly pushed inside my core, still kneeling between my legs.

It felt like he was finally coming home to me.

I played with my sensitive tits as he placed sloppy kisses down my abdomen and fucked me slowly.

"Look at you, kid," he growled, his eyes fixed on the show my hands were giving him. "Such a good girl, going so bad for someone like me. Despite all, I must be a lucky man."

I grinned slyly, dragging my underlip between my teeth. "I don't wanna be a good girl. I wanna be your bad girl, a bad, bad bitch."

He smiled, speeding up his pace. "No, you're a good girl. That's what I love about you."

The praise sent a shiver down my spine. 

He fucked me until my eyes rolled to the back of my head, then pulled out to jerk on my belly. While he cleaned me up and then placed his head on my chest, I almost felt like the night he first loved me.