#and brick cut two teeth in the last two days

[stimulantparad0x]

Putting real pants on at 3:12 in the afternoon cause I've been wearing the same pajamas for three days and I can't go to the bank like that

#the kids have been sick #bug has a cold #and brick cut two teeth in the last two days #and cr2 caught bugs cold #i dodged most of it but been running on no sleep between teething baby and coughing threenager #sometimes mommin be like that

[thehighladywrites]

That's your mother, but she's my wife first…

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ pairing: cassian x fem!reader, the inner circle mentioned

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ summary: 18+ nsfw, mdni, light angst, stress, smut, fluff, praise, cassian channelling his inner general, reader being an absolute sweetheart who deserves everything good in life fr

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ amara’s note: okay so I don’t have any kids so some parts might be inaccurate but close your eyes please🤞🏽i have nothing else to say, i just wanna fuck cassian so bad rn...

Spilled milk, mismatched socks, wailing babies.

Gods, what you wouldn’t do for a moment of peace…

Your children were usually calm, even when they were tumbling down stairs and running into tables, but during your youngest twin kids teething phase, they developed an interest for chewing on anything. Their outburst put your two other kids in distress, making it a difficult period for everyone.

In your attempt to keep your twins safe, you unintentionally became the evil mother for denying them the joy of chewing on concrete bricks, their father’s important books and a million other dangerous things that a child simply shouldn’t be putting in their mouth. 

They had been given enchanted teething toys made out of moonstone by their uncle Rhysand, but it didn’t keep them entertained at all. Safety was apparently too boring for them.

This morning was extra rough because Cassian had to leave early for a mission, leaving you with four kids. Although the two oldest ones, 7 and 12, could get themselves ready for the day, they still needed some help with some things. You were downright in a foul mood, feeling the weight of frustration and helplessness as the twins wailed and your oldest ones argued, all while trying to keep your emotions hidden.

“ You took the last pancake, Ves!” your son angrily sliced the remains of his food as your daughter, Vesna, looked at him with anger. “ I don’t care. I told you that I wanted it and you made no move for it, Therian. Blame yourself and be quicker next time.” she bickered back. They kept arguing about that stupid pancake as you picked your twins and moved to the rocking chair across the livingroom to sooth them. The kitchen seamlessly flowed into the living room, creating an open floor plan that allowed you to effortlessly monitor Vesna and Therian.

 “ It’s okay, babies. There we go, hush now.” But it didn’t work, they kept screaming and you were at your breaking point. You felt like the worst mom ever as you looked up, took a deep breath and blinked back tears. 

You almost yearned for Cassian's return, craving the comfort of your mate's presence amid the chaos. Yet, the nagging self-doubt held you back, hesitant to burden him with your distress and feeling a twinge of selfishness in the idea of asking him to cut short his mission. Despite the internal struggle, you chose to tough it out, convincing yourself that countless women had faced similar challenges, wondering if you could measure up to their strength.

Unbeknownst to you, you had been signaling Cassian with your feelings through the bond since this morning. He was already on his way back the moment your emotions reached him. He was just in time to hear your daughter’s frustration directed towards you, though none of you had felt his presence or heard him approach your home. 

“Mom, you're seriously failing at shutting them up. It's not dragon taming to handle two kids, and it shouldn't be this painful for the rest of us. How about you take them outside and only come back when you've figured out how to keep them quiet? Because none of us can stand the noise.” You looked at her stunned as a million thoughts went through your head. Guilt, anger and self-doubt took root inside you.

 Guilt, because was she right? Anger, because she shouldn’t have spoken to you like that ever. Self-doubt, because your fears and feelings about motherhood were spoken out loud. 

Your first-born had a sour expression on her face that quickly fell before she looked down at her plate sheepishly. Maybe she felt regret? But what made her react like that instantly? Your daughter could be hotheaded and it usually took her a few hours to calm down, but not this quick. 

Looking at where she removed her eyes from, you look and see your husband, body tense and wings tucked in tightly. You felt immediate comfort and wanted to throw yourself in his arms and fucking cry. How you had missed him this much in only a few hours was a mystery. 

His boots thudded heavily against the wooden floors as he approached your embarrassed daughter. “Look at me,” was all he needed to say before Vesna reluctantly lifted her head. She knew he was going to chew her out. He clenched his jaw in anger as he looked down at her. “Your lack of empathy for what your mother is dealing with right now is astounding. Instead of criticizing, maybe you should try contributing to the solution. We're a family, and we handle things together, not by throwing blame around. She's your mother, but remember that she's my mate and wife first, and no one speaks to my mate and wife with disrespect ever, not even you. Now go ahead and apologize to her.”

Your husband, ever the general.

With teary eyes, realizing the gravity of her words, Vesna approached you. “Hey, Mommy,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She hadn’t called you mommy in forever. “I... I shouldn't have said those things. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh. I know it must be difficult and my anger took over. I really love you and I’m sorry.”

You were a bit surprised by the apology and softened your expression before replying, “It's okay, sweetheart. We all have our moments. Just remember, we're a team, and we need to support each other.” She nodded, still feeling a bit guilty, and said, “I'll try to do better. Can I help you with anything now?”

A genuine smile appeared on your face as your replied, “That would be wonderful. Let's work together to make things smoother for everyone. How about you start clearing the table and Therian picks up things from the floor.” She nodded and gave you a small kiss on the cheek before hurriedly making her way back to the kitchen table. Cassian gave her a kiss on the head and gave her a proud smile.  “I’m glad you apologized, and it takes courage to admit when we’re wrong. Let’s move forward now. Your willingness to help now means a lot. Thank you.”

Feeling the tension ease after the daughter's apology, your mate approached you. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “Hi pretty.” You look up at him with a thankful smile. “Hi lover.” He smiles right back at you. “I know it's been a rough day. I’m so proud of you, sugar. We'll get through this together. How about you go upstairs and soak in the tub while I take care of the kids.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, and wrapped his arms around the twins who had gone quiet.

Feeling reassured by Cassian’s comforting words, you smiled appreciatively. You gave him a tender kiss in thanks before scurrying upstairs, grateful for the support and unity he provided for your family. 

As you undressed, a delightful surprise caught your eye – the tub was filled, and a slice of your favorite cake awaited you on a nearby table. Gratefully, you thanked The House for the steaming tub and the unexpected treat. Stepping in, you let the heat envelop you, soothing the tension in your muscles. Time seemed to blur as you relaxed in the warm water — minutes or hours, it was hard to keep track. Exhaustion gradually overcame you, and your eyelids grew heavy in the comforting embrace of the tub, a sweet slice of cake adding to the calmness of the moment.

Entering the room, Cassian caught sight of you in the steaming tub, content and relaxed. A mixture of emotions flooded over him – admiration and a deep love that seemed to intensify in this quiet scene. He approached silently, not wanting to disturb the serene moment. Gently, he reached out to stroke your hair, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he felt. In that intimate moment, a silent understanding passed between you, affirming that you’d never be alone ever. You’d be there for each other and it made your heart swell. 

Curiosity lit up your eyes, you looked at your husband and asked, “Hey, where are the kids? Did you take care of them?”

A gentle smile played on his lips as he revealed, “Actually, Rhysie and Feyre picked them up. They thought we could use a quiet weekend, just the two of us. They’re taking Nyx, Ves and Theiran on a trip up the mountains but the twins are staying at the River House with Elain and Lucien. She made a special herbal blend that helps their gums, it’s all very Elain.”

Surprise and gratitude washed over you as you processed the thoughtful gesture. “That's so sweet of them, you remarked, a genuine smile forming. “A quiet day sounds perfect.” You exchanged a glance, appreciating the unexpected silence given by thoughtful friends.

“So, are we entirely alone for the entire weekend?” You attempted to conceal your smile as warmth surged in your belly upon meeting Cassian's gaze, only to discover him returning a heated look. “Indeed, sweetness. It's just you and me, alone. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” His commanding, taunting voice always managed to drive you crazy. He had a charming voice that you could listen to forever. “I can think of a few ways…” you responded as you stood up, dripping wet. You beckoned him closer  and deeply inhaled his delicious scent. He smelled like home. Throwing your arms around him, you inched your lips closer to his, teasing him, not letting him get close enough for a real kiss. He frowned and slightly pouted. “Either give a proper kiss or I walk away.” You knew it was a false threat. Cassian wouldn’t ever leave your embrace now that he was turned on. 

But you decided to keep playing with him, wanting to see how far you could push him. 

“Yeah? Walk away then, baby.” You let your arms drop to the side, slightly tilting your head with a small smirk on your lips. You felt a surge of amusement as you observed him, jaw tight and knuckles white from clenching, meeting your gaze with defiant determination. “Stop fucking with me, y/n/n. You want me as much as I do.” It was his turn to return a mocking smirk. “ What, you think I don’t know you by now? You think I don’t know that you wanna be fucked until you can’t think straight? Little one, I have years on you. I know your body better than you. I’ll ask again. Are you going to kiss me properly or do I walk away?”

 Fucking hell. He really did know your body better than you since his words only fueled you on. While you enjoyed toying with him, it was time to throw in the towel. No way where you wasting any more time. With hands behind your back you looked up at him, doe-eyed and blushy. “I’ll give you a proper kiss, Cassie. Then please take me to bed.” He smiled down at you with a devilish smile, putting his hand on your hips as he pulled towards his warm chest. “ Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” With hands on his chest, you stood on your toes as water swished around your legs, putting your plush lips against his soft ones. 

 Careful, gentle, loving, comforting and really fucking hot.

That was all you could think of when you were kissing him. One of his warm hands roamed all over your body as his other one cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Your own hands stayed in one spot, your favorite place to put your hands. His chest. You absolutely loved touching his chest. Giving his pecs a light squeeze, resting against them, anything really. Centuries of honing his body into a weapon had made him look like a god. 

You wanted to dry off and move to your bedroom, and as if Cassian had read your thoughts, he grabbed the towel without breaking the kiss and wrapped it around you. He simply picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved to the bedroom before gently lowering you to the soft bed. Cassian caught your wrists and pinned them, crisscrossed, above your head while he settled between your legs, once again wrapping them around his waist. You kissed until your lips swelled and pulled away for air. 

He forced your legs apart, hand cupping your pussy. You let out a gasp, quickly gripping onto his broad shoulders. Cassian carefully watched your face as it contorted into pleasure when he pushed in two fingers, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let out a moan.

 “Feels good, wifey? ” Cassian asked as your nails dug into his shoulders, hips bucking into his touch. “ mhmm, yeah it feels really fucking good.” you managed to respond as you felt his fingers speed up, curling into that delicious spot that made you absolutely melt. 

He wanted to be inside of you, fuck you and ruin you all over the sheets. “ It would feel a lot better  if I had you wrapped around my cock.” He said, looking up at you through is his dark lashes, eyes full of mirth. You clenched around his fingers at the thought of him filling you up with his thick cock. It had been a while since you had been properly dicked down by him, since you two were busy with life and kids. Quickies, fingering and handjobs were all you had time for since the twins were born 6 months ago. As much as you loved your kids, you also loved alone time with your mate and it was rare these days. So of course you’d use this weekend to get fucked, and maybe that would help you relax a bit. Cassians cock had always been the answer for you. 

Mad? Get dicked down. Sad? Get dicked down. Happy? Get dicked down. 

Huh. 

No wonder you had four kids…

You nodded eagerly at him, “ Please cassie, fill me up. I really need it.” He sat up, dumped his clothes on the floor and positioned his cock infront of your throbbing core, teasing a bit. He used his fingers to scissor you open a bit. When you felt even more slick under his touch he retracted his fingers and licked your wetness off of them. He smiled at around his fingers and said, “Delicious.” Your chuckle morphed seamlessly into a moan when he slammed his lenght into you.

  He let out a sound of pleasure as he pushed himself into you. You clenched around his cock, you were so wet and slippery around him. He let out a pleased groan as he started giving you deep strokes. His pace quickened with the intention of finishing inside of you. He loved to make a mess of your pussy like that, fuck you full of his cum and watch it slowly drip out. Nothing made him more possessive than seeing his mate full of his cum. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me, I’m so proud of you, my beautiful girl.” He knew the exact words you needed today and it made you feel so emotional that he knew you this well. 

You blushed. Pleasure crept up your spine once more. Your legs were starting to shake, sweat coated your back. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you as his strokes were getting faster and faster, his lips muffling your moans. He kept up the pace, feeling the pleasure flow through his body, bringing him closer to climax. He loved the feeling of you around him.

 He was addicted to it. He was addicted to you.

You moaned and arched your back as he continued to fuck into you. You wanted to cum so badly, and as if Cassian once again read your mind, he said something that almost made you cry.

“ Don’t cum yet.”

He must have caught your annoyed stare because he looked down, sporting his usual grin, and said, “I want us to come together. You can handle that, right, pretty?” Your brows furrowed as you attempted to feign annoyance, though deep down, you weren't truly bothered at all.

 No, no you weren’t mad at all because if he was adamant about you finishing together, then you’d do everything in your power to make it happen. You got closer to him, pressing a quick kiss before deepening it as your tounges swirled around each other before you pulled away, biting his lip. He let out a groan and it only spurred you on. You pulled out all your tricks, whispering downright filthy things in his ear. That seemed to do the trick. Cassian thrusted deeper and deeper, rubbing tight circles on your neglected clit before you came in unison. 

You moaned at the feeling, warmth filled you as his pace started to slow down. Your mate collapsed on top of you and your put his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. He remembered that he hadn’t pulled out yet but before he could you stopped him. 

“ Please baby, don’t pull out yet. It feels really warm and good and I want you in me forever.”

You felt his chest rumble with a gentle laughter. “ Whatever you want, you shall have. You did so well, sugar. I love you.” You kissed his forehead and gave him praise back. “ Thank you, baby. I’m so happy you’re here, I love you too.”

Safe to say you fucked the whole weekend, everywhere, only taking breaks for food and occasional naps. But you also basked in the intimacy of having him. by yourself. Eating together, talking about everything between the heavens and earth, cracking jokes and just enjoying yourselves. 

You and your mate, together for all eternity...

#talkswithamara #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #feyre x reader #lucien vanserra x reader

[theamberwriter]

The Perfect Blend

Modern!Alpha!Levi Ackerman x Omega!GN!Reader || Tea Shop AU

Word count: 6.3k

So this is the first fic I’ve written in a while, and I cannot remember the last time I actually watched AoT. But my thirst for Levi can never be tamed. I hope this does him some justice. Also, I’m on my iPad. So the formatting may be a little weird.

Companion Art: [1] [2]

☕️📚

The Stem and Spine was the shiney new bookstore/tea shop opening on the corner on Prescott and Main. It seemed like ages since anyone had tried opening a store there. It was such a quaint spot. The historical building had detailed moldings, uneven red bricks, and chipped, dark blue paint. Six large, angled windows gave a panoramic view out to the bustling streets in your little college town.

It was the perfect spot to stop, drink tea, and people watch.

You were looking forward to opening day. You’d spent months crawling through every bookshop, online and in person, as well as every thrift shop trying to find one specific book. No one seemed to know of it’s existence. So you were silently begging the universe to cut you a break and let this new bookshop carry what you were looking for.

You’d only recently discovered their grand opening. An awkward omega gave you a flier. They were handing them out as people were leaving the grocery store. You were really excited, but maybe that was your inner bookworm talking.

Since the shop was right down the road, you decided to walk there on opening morning. You weren’t really expecting any sort of crowd. All of the college kids had gone home for the summer, so the streets had emptied out some. You enjoyed how quiet the summers were. So the long, winding line leading from the door of Stem and Spine was definitely a surprise.

You didn’t need to look for the book that badly. You could come in a month or so when things had died down some. You were going to head back home when you heard the people by you talking:

“I heard the guy running this place is hot as fuck,” said one.

“Did you hear what that girl in our study group said?” asked the other. The first shook their head. “Apparently his scent is like, super strong.”

The friend grinned, running their tongue over their teeth. “I can‘t wait to find out.”

Oh no, you mentally groaned then took a nice deep breath. The scents came one right after the other. A mangled mash up of pheromones. This line was almost entirely betas and omegas. And they were here for that alpha. You were never going to be able to shop there at this rate! As an omega yourself, you just knew they all would come from miles around until this guy was claimed.

You decided it was better to queue up, then maybe you’d actually get a chance to set foot inside. You waited for hours. You were sure those ahead of you would linger as long as possible and try to make an impression. That meant everyone had to stand in line longer.

By the time employees came down the line and told people they were closing for the night, your feet were killing you and your phone battery was nearly dead. All day and you’d only gotten a quarter of the way to the door! You could still see the spot you’d started from. A few people tried to get rowdy, complaining it was unfair that they’d been waiting all day. But their steam fizzled when employees threatened to call the police.

For two weeks, you checked the line for Stem and Spine. Day after day the line seemed to get longer. You saw a lot of returning faces, they must’ve been desperate. You even saw a handful of people getting escorted out by police! You also heard more and more rumors about what everyone was lining up for.

I heard he’s one of those hot, stoic types. I’d love to break him.

I heard that if you’re a beta or omega, just the guy’s scent is enough to make you jizz in your pants.

I heard he doesn’t like needy omegas, good thing I’m not like the others.

I heard he’s starting an entire harem - I’d love to be a part of that!

This is my eighth time going. I swear, I’m on the verge of making him my mate!

The rumors went on and on, getting more and more absurd. You wondered what this guy was really like, if he was really worth all of this. You weren’t interested, you just wanted a book! If anything, this was annoying. You figured it was probably annoying for him too, especially if he just wanted to do his job and not have to worry about anyone throwing themselves at him.

Finally, on a Sunday afternoon, you were able to set foot in Stem and Spine. It was quiet. No three block long line in sight. Sure, it was still busy but these people actually wanted books. They were all glued to the shelves, actually talking about books, and showing each other covers.

Inside was better than you’d imagined it. Everything was cream, gold, crimson, and navy blue. In one half was the tea shop. There were shelves of tea and accessories that lined the walls; loose leaf, prepackaged, diffusers, tea pots, honey sticks, spoon rests. As well as a long barista counter that had a large chalkboard and sizable drink list that was nothing but tea. There were a small handful of metal tables and chairs, and you remembered seeing some outside with umbrellas as well.

The other half of the store was the bookshop. There was row after row of books. Mostly fiction from your first glance. There were also displays for local authors and a shelf of new arrivals. You couldn’t wait to spend the day combing through. The entire vibe was cozy and the scent of jasmine wafting around was relaxing. You did wonder, however, how you were able to get in. Had the alpha been claimed? You didn’t smell anything overwhelming.

“Aaawwww, what do you mean he’s not here?!” You heard a girl whine. You were just starting on the second row of books.

“Mr. Ackerman isn’t here,” said the employee, irritation clear in their voice. “And no, I don’t know if he’ll be back today.”

The girl groaned loudly, but you didn’t hear her complain anymore. You figured she must’ve left. You wondered if she was the one who’d managed multiple visits.

“This has really gotten out of hand,” you heard the employee down the aisle say. They’d been stocking more books. “Great for sales, though.”

“That bad?” you asked. The employee looked at you, she looked tired. Her name tag read Mikasa.

“You have no idea,” she sighed. “I like working here. Levi is my cousin and a great boss, but these fangirls have just been too much. You’d think the fact that he ignores them would be a turn off. But they just keep coming.”

You didn’t realize you’d spent your whole afternoon in Stem and Spine until Mikasa came around to give you a five minute heads up. You were disappointed you didn’t find what you were looking for. But you still managed to find a couple hidden gems you were excited about. Maybe what you wanted was just too obscure.

You brought your books to the counter. As they rang you up, you noticed a clip board with a paper that read What Books Would You Like to See at Stem and Spine? Under that was a long list of handwritten titles and author names. You quickly scribbled down the book you were looking for. At least now there was a chance for it to appear.

Over the next month, you managed two visits to Stem and Spine every week. You and the employees actually started to recognize each other. You also started to see titles you recognized from the list. The mysterious Mr. Ackerman, however, still managed to escape your sight. Every time you went, there was a small posse outside just trying to grab a whiff.

It wasn’t until your first visit of the following month that you finally laid eyes on him. You’d just finished a series and were looking to start a new one. So you wandered over to the new arrivals section. You’d been there about half an hour when a heavy wave of lavender hit you. It filled your head, murking up your thoughts. You figured this had to be him, and the rumors were true - his scent was another beast entirely.

You shook your head to focus your thoughts. You liked this store, so this was something you were going to have to get used to if you wanted to keep shopping there. But you were also extremely concerned - if he was here, then that long line and hoard of omegas and betas would be too. You wanted to leave, but you were stuck between two books with money only for one.

You probably should’ve noticed the scent getting stronger. But you were so focused on reviewing the synopsis on both and thumbing through that you were oblivious. You didn’t wake from your stupor until there was a flutter of movement beside you. You glanced to your left to see a dark haired man in a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He set down the few boxes he was carrying.

This man, you realized, was where the lavender wall had come from. This was the infamous Levi Ackerman, owner of Stem and Spine. Mikasa had told you a bit about him in previous weeks. You liked talking to her whenever you came in.

“It’s rude to stare,” he said in a surprising tenor. His back was still to you. You cursed under your breath and turned back to the shelf. That was one way to embarrass yourself. You began musing between the books in your hands again.

After a long moment of silence, a voice said, “I’d pick the one in your right hand.”

You looked over to meet a bored pair of silver eyes. “What?”

“I’ve read them both. The book in your right hand was far more interesting.”

“Oh cool,” you said slowly. “Thanks. I would’ve been here for ages.”

You quickly placed the other one back in its place and scuttled away. You were just going to have to take his word for it. You didn’t want to hover anymore than you had. At the front, they packaged up your book and you were swiftly out the door.

Levi had been right, the book was very good and you were excited that there were four more books to follow with a movie planned. The next time you tried to go to Stem and Spine it was packed again. There was a line down the block and you just didn’t have the time to wait. Your shift at work started soon, and all you’d wanted to do was thank him for the recommendation.

You decided to head straight to work instead. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long to see the bookstore owner again. The wall of lavender hit you before you saw him. You watched everyone around you turn to stare. It didn’t seem to phase him in the least.

Levi came to the counter and briefly talked with your coworker, who couldn’t seem to keep a straight face. When they disappeared to look for someone, Levi waited at the counter. This was probably going to be weird, but you really did want to thank him for helping you find a new series you absolutely loved.

“Hey,” you started, the book in your hand. He glanced at you briefly. “I, uh. You probably don’t remember me, but you recommended this book to me last week. And I, uh, I just wanted to say thank you. It was really good.”

“I told you it was better,” he stated. “I remember the other one you had - the author writes shit. It doesn’t have any good character development and there were a few glaring plot holes.”

“Oh, that’s good to know - I’ll definitely take that off my reading list.” You laughed awkwardly, carefully tucking the book away in your bag. “I was, uh, I was going to stop by the shop earlier. See if you were there - so I could thank you. But that line was just - woo!”

“I’m going to have to do something about that.” You weren’t sure if that was directed at you, but Levi seemed lost in thought.

Your coworker soon came back with someone in tow. They talked for a minute and then Levi and his intoxicating scent were gone. Afterwards, your coworker could not shut up about him. There was no way you were going to tell them about the bookshop.

In the days that followed, the line to get into the shop shrunk. But there was a continuous crowd that flurried around. A few employees you recognized seemed to be doing crowd control.

“I don’t care that you want to see him,” said one. “You don’t actually want a book or tea! It’s clogging up the shop.”

So Levi was doing something about the outrageous line. You were looking forward to being able to shop there again. The employees inside seemed less stressed when you went in and, at least, you weren’t brushing shoulders with anyone.

“Hey, [Name]!” Mikasa called as she spied you. She waved from her spot at the book counter where she was talking with Levi. You waved back at her, accidentally met Levi’s eyes, and then shuffled off into the book aisle to grab the next installment of the series.

You paid for your book, then went over to the tea shop. You didn’t know much about tea, but you figured you might as well start trying the different blends. There was a small display set up that recommended different teas for certain books. Like a nice citrusy Lady Grey to go with Pride and Prejudice.

“I don’t think that tea pairs with your book.”

You knew that voice. You turned to find Levi there with you, hovering, observing as you skimmed through the tea bags. You looked down at the pouch of English Breakfast Tea in your hand.

“You don’t think so?”

“You’ll want a black currant tea.” Levi reached just above your head and pulled down a paper bag with a raven on it. “I’m partial to this one.”

You took the bag, turning it over in your hand. You put the original pouch you grabbed back. Awkwardly, you smiled at him. “Uh, thanks. Guess I’ll go pay for this then.”

You weren’t sure what to make of it, it was probably nothing. But this encounter left you with a strange feeling. There were a few more like that to follow too.

“You’ll want a different tea for that,” he said as you picked up the third book.

“I can’t just make the black currant one?” you asked, baffled.

“Each book has a flavor that it pairs with. This one is more of a mint. If you pick wrong, you'll ruin the whole damn experience.” Levi turned the full power of his eyes on you. You were frozen under them. “Just like each person has their scent. Each scent has something that pairs nicely with it. For example, mine is lavender, yours is more of a sage. The two go well together.”

“Oh,” was all you could manage. That was the first time you felt the little flutter in your chest.

Every time you went to Stem and Spine to purchase a book Levi was there over your shoulder. He’d direct you to whichever tea he felt best went with it. He even started talking about the nuances in the flavors. How the aromatics helped, which shape of tea bag was optimal, ideally how long to steep it for. You became very knowledgeable about tea in the following visits. You were sure you'd be an expert by the time you went to pick up the last book in the series he showed you. But nowhere near as knowledgeable as Levi.

The next time you went, you saw Mikasa at the counter speaking with Levi.

"You can have the days off. Just fill out the request form," Levi said as you walked up to them.

"You're going on vacation soon, Mikasa?" you asked.

She turned her eyes to you. "My mate is going into his rut soon. I always make sure to take those days off to help him with his nest or anything else he needs."

You smiled at her. "That's really thoughtful, Mikasa. I hope, if I find someone, that they're like you."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't have a mate?"

"No." You shook your head and shrugged.

You could've sworn you caught Mikasa giving Levi a nudge and a sharp look. Levi gave her a brief glare back. Then his eyes turned to you, his gaze relaxed.

"Why?" he asked.

You laughed humorlessly. "No one's ever really stuck around or I broke up with them. One guy tried to get me to sell my book collection. He said that they were just a waste of time and money. So I decided that he was a waste of my time. There's nothing worse than someone who doesn't understand your hobbies."

Levi said nothing but hummed in response.

"Do you have a mate out there in this big wide world, Levi?" you asked.

"No," he spat curtly.

You didn't mean to gape, but you couldn't deny you were shocked. "Really?"

"What?"

"I'm just surprised, ya know? With your strong scent and how handsome you are... I just figured by now someone would have come along. That's all."

Levi looked away from you. "My scent is more trouble than it's worth. All it does is draw shitty little brats."

You chuckled. "I can see that, considering the long line the first month you guys were open. I also noticed the growing wall of banned people. – Well I just came in to grab something really fast before work. My shift starts soon."

The college students were starting back up for the autumn semester. The streets began to fill up with cars of fresh faces, new dreams, and overstuffed suitcases. You had a feeling there'd be a new influx of people at Stem and Spine.

The hunch was correct.

Before you knew it, the store was once again filled wall to wall with people seeking Levi's attention. He seemed increasingly agitated every time you saw him. Then he once again disappeared for a few weeks, causing the crowds to thin.

“I heard the author is writing the final installment,” Mikasa said as she rang you up. “It’s supposed to be out in a few months.”

“Really? I thought this was the last book?” You raised an eyebrow. You weren’t upset, just surprised. The story felt like it could easily be wrapped up in one book. You hoped it wasn’t going to be one of those strangling the plot lines scenarios, where the whole series goes down in flames right at the end.

“Nope, one more.” Mikasa shook her head. “I’m sure Levi will be upset.”

“Does he really like this series?”

“No.”

You met her with a curious gaze. Her eyes gave you nothing in return. You’d never really noticed how similar she and Levi looked until then. Both with silky black hair and unwavering grey eyes.

"I don't smell him around today. I take it he's still in hiding? I guess I'm on my own to find a tea, then," you laughed.

Mikasa handed you your bag, it was brown paper with a dark red book and tea leaf stamped onto it. You had a small collection you kept folded under your sink and used for various things.

"Hey, before you go," Mikasa started. "I'd like to consider us friends."

You nodded and smiled at her. "I'd like to think so."

"So then would you like to hang out when I'm not working? I was thinking about going to see the movie for this, it comes out soon. Would you like to go? I'll buy the tickets."

"That'd be awesome! I can pay you back."

Mikasa laughed, then waved her hand dismissively. "It's no issue, don't worry about it. Give me your number, and we can pick a date."

You exchanged numbers then wandered over to the teashop. You were only a little upset to be tea shopping alone. You were so used to having company. You wondered what type of tea Levi would recommend. You had to admit, you were starting to look forward to your shopping visits more knowing he was there. You were happier to see him than Mikasa most days. You were grateful for your newly formed friendship, so it made you feel a bit guilty. But you couldn’t deny that there was something soothing about listening to Levi’s passion for tea.

You thumbed through the pages of the book. Skimming without trying to spoil anything for yourself. You were just trying to get the feel. What flavor would this book be? Something dark and fruity, like a black currant? Or something a little lighter, more classic like the mint? You settled on an orange bergamot, this would have to work. You paid and then walked over to your job.

About half way through your shift, a familiar tsunami of lavender smacked you in the face. Levi strode casually through the lobby looking bored as ever. He had a bag in his hand. You wondered if he’d been out shopping. You met his gaze, immediately diverting your own back to your paperwork.

“Mikasa said you were in the shop today,” he said, the scent rolling off of him was strange and heavy.

You looked up, getting sucked into those silver pools. “Yeah, I came to get the next book in the series. I figured you were still keeping your distance. - Did you need my help with something? Did you need John again?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t pick a shitty tea.”

You scrutinized his face. It held absolutely nothing. He really came all this way to ask what tea you picked? Well, it was just the next street over. But he still had to go out of his way to see you. He didn’t have to do that. Your heart fluttered.

“I skimmed through, but I’m not sure I picked the right one.” You handed over the bag of tea you bought.

Levi rolled his eyes. “Tech, don’t spoil it for yourself, idiot.”

He took the bag, examining it thoroughly. He considered the ingredients for a long moment. You could practically see the cogs turning in his mind. Finally Levi handed it back over to you.

“Interesting choice,” he started. “But it works. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks, I really tried to put your lessons into practice,” you laughed. There was a long stretch of silence. “I suppose you’re probably going back to Stem and Spine, I won’t keep you any longer. But I appreciate you stopping by, I didn’t think you remembered that I worked here.”

Levi stood a moment longer, then placed the bag he’d been carrying on the counter. It was from his store. “I brought this in case you picked wrong. - I’d still like you to have it.”

You stood. “No, I couldn’t -”

“I insist.”

“At least let me lay you for it. Or exchange it for the one I bought!”

Levi was already walking away. “Just take the fucking thing. I picked it out for you.”

Then Levi was gone, but his lavender scent still swam in your head. You took the bag from the counter, peering in to inspect its contents. You were so curious what he picked. You pulled out a white bag of loose leaf tea with a rose stamped on it in pink. The name read The Start of Something Sweet, it was made with strawberries and rose. You couldn’t help but smile a bit to yourself.

Later that night you made yourself a cup using what you remembered of Levi’s impromptu tea lessons. You couldn’t keep the little smile off your face. Not even as you talked with Mikasa about your movie plans. You picked a date two Saturdays away. You were really excited, you could only hope that the movie did any sort of justice.

A few days later, you made another trip to Levi’s store. It was restock day. As usual, you beelined for the new arrivals section. You were disheartened to find your requested book had still not made an appearance. You groaned. Maybe they couldn’t find a distributor either. That’d be just your luck.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Mikasa asked, stopping beside you. “You look disappointed.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’ve been on the hunt for this one book and no one has it. I’ve checked everywhere! I even put it on your recommendations list when you first opened. It’s just getting annoying at this point.”

“Maybe I can track it down for you and get you a rush order?”

You smiled at her gratefully. “You’d do that for me?”

Mikasa shrugged. “It’s no problem. I don’t see why not. What’s Levi going to do? Fire me?”

“Sweet, thank you so much! I’ll text you what I’m looking for.”

“Hey, I’m actually about to go on break. Do you want to go get something to eat with me? You have off today, right?”

You agreed and hovered by the counter while Mikasa grabbed her things from the back. You chatted idly with a few of the other employees. They were complaining about how busy it’s been since school was back in session. You hadn’t been surprised, of course. They did build the town around the university after all.

Once the scent of lavender began wafting in, everyone became tense. You noticed something was off. It was sharper and so sweet it was almost bitter and very dense and heavy. Levi stalked in, looking irritated. He gave a sharp glare to his employees, but didn’t say anything. Instead marching through the door that said employees only on it.

“Something must’ve happened,” said one of the employees you were talking to. “He was in a good mood this morning.”

You wanted to go after him. In fact, your feet even began to pull in his direction on their own. But you stopped yourself, embarrassed. Tea aside - you didn’t know him all that well, after all. The last thing he’d probably wanted was a random omega tailing after him.

You had a thought, a reflection of something he told you - a book and a good cup of tea always made his mood better. He told you in passing, he probably didn’t even remember saying it. You knew you’d seen your favorite book somewhere in the store. With any luck, it was one he hadn’t read. You swept through the shelves, quickly finding it, then went to find a matching tea. You’d already had one in mind. Mikasa emerged just as the cashier was packing it all up for you. You had them wrap it in brown paper.

“Did you find something after all?” she asked.

You felt warm. Did it get hot all the sudden? You looked guiltily at the items in your hands.

“Actually,” you started awkwardly. “These are for Levi.”

“Levi?”

“Yeah, he seemed pretty mad when he came through a few minutes ago. Could you - I don’t know - could you give these to him for me?”

“I think it would be better if you gave them to him yourself, he’s still here.”

Mikasa didn’t give you much of a choice as she steered you towards the door he’d gone through. She forcefully shoved you down a small hallway and into Levi’s office. He was furious when he heard the door open. The sharp scent was even thicker in here, nearly suffocating. But you couldn’t help your overwhelming urge to calm him.

“[Name],” Levi grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes were shut tight. “I know you can fucking read, the sign says employees only.”

“They have something for you, don’t be an asshole,” snapped Mikasa.

You thought you heard Levi mutter brat under his breath. He looked up at you, eyeing the items in your hands curiously. You smiled a bit. Avoiding his gaze, you admired how neat his desk was. You were sure, if you had a ruler, that everything would be evenly spaced apart.

“You seemed upset when you came in,” you said, swallowing thickly. “I remembered what you said and thought maybe a book and some tea would help? This one’s my favorite and I picked something that I thought went with it. - I promise I paid for it.”

You placed the items on his desk and slowly backed away. You tried to slip away now that your peace offering had been given. Mikasa, however, wouldn’t let you leave. Levi picked up the book, turning it over his hands. He studied the cover and read the synopsis. Finally, after a long minute, he hummed and turned back to you.

“I haven’t read this one,” Levi said. You stifled a sigh of relief. “You make interesting choices in tea, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said quickly and Mikasa finally let you out the door.

Mikasa didn’t bring up the incident over lunch. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why did you do that? It was incredibly impulsive, but also inappropriate. That was basically the equivalent of screaming out how much he made your heart race and your palms sweat.

You tried not to dwell on it. But over the course of the week, you found yourself reflecting. You had hoped, more than you realized, that he would like what you brought him. You wanted his approval, not just his thanks. But you hadn’t been able to find the time to stop by the store and see if he’d read it. You’d been too busy with work, along with some plans with friends.

The next time you saw Levi was at your work again. He came bearing another bag. You were worried your coworkers would start getting the wrong idea. An alpha giving an omega gifts - how must that have looked to them? Then again, it was awfully presumptuous to think that the bag was for you.

But you were certain that Levi would never court you. Did you want him to, even? You hadn’t put much thought into the idea. But you didn’t hate the thought of getting to know him better. All you knew was what little he’d revealed in your chats while you picked out books and tea. Along with a little of what Mikasa had told you.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” you joked as Levi stepped up to the counter.

There was a certain air about him today. Maybe it was the way he’d slicked his hair back neatly. Or how starched the collar on his shirt was where it came out of his camel colored vest. He even seemed a touch more rested than usual.

Levi placed a bag on the counter. “This is for you.”

You couldn’t stop the sound of delight that came out of your mouth as you took the book out of the bag. It was finally, finally in your hands. After countless hours of fruitless searching, the damn book was finally in your hand.

“Holy shit,” you cried. “You found it! How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house this time.” Levi reached in and pulled a small brown pouch out of the bag. He smirked, which sent a chill down your spine. “Cinnamon, something spicy to go with that dirty fucking shit you’re reading.”

You froze mid celebration, oh shit. It was indeed a book with a good chunk of smut in it. Your friend had let you borrow her copy, that’s the only reason you knew about the book in the first place.

“You read it?” your voice came out hoarse.

Levi clicked his tongue. “The important parts, to figure out which blend would go along with it. It’s no wonder you couldn’t find it, no self respecting bookshop carries porn.”

“It’s not porn!”

You were not expecting him to read it. But of course he would only read the spicy scenes. No context to the story or anything else. You were devastated.

“Mhm.” It did not sound like he believed you. With that, Levi turned and began to walk away. He called over his shoulder to have a good day, followed by the pet name they used in the book.

You felt warm all over, tingles chasing from head to toe. You stared after him until he was gone. Then you sat flustered in your seat with your cheek against the cool desk. You could feel a scream burning in the back of your throat. You were so glad there was a half wall so no one could see you.

When you finally got up the nerve to crack open the book you found an envelope. Your name was written in beautiful cursive on the back. Cautiously, you cut it open. Inside was money and a little note in the same scrawl.

I won’t hold this against you. I know your entire taste in literature isn’t trash. Here’s money back for the stuff you gave me. I can see why it’s your favorite.

L. Ackerman

PS. Don’t even fucking think about trying to give the money back.

It was a short note, but it was enough to bring that flutter back. You couldn’t help reading it over and over again.

Before you knew it, movie day was finally upon you. You dressed casually and were so excited that you got to the theater an hour before it started. There was no Mikasa in sight, so you sat on a bench and read. You didn’t start to worry until there was only fifteen minutes before the movie began and she was still nowhere to be seen. Not even a text.

You: Hey, just checking if you’re close by.

Mikasa: Sorry, I’m not going to be able to make it. Enjoy the movie, you’ll have to tell me what I missed.

You groaned. You did not want to see this movie on your own. Though, you supposed it wasn’t so bad. Lots of people went by themselves. You’d just been looking forward to some bonding time with your new friend.

“So this is what that little brat was up to,” said a voice behind you. You turned to find no other than Levi. His scent was just beginning to wrap you up in a field of flowers. He had two travel cups with him, and looked as attractive as ever. No white collared shirt today. That was replaced by casual clothes and tight fitting jeans.

“Mikasa?” you asked, forcing yourself to look away.

He rolled his eyes. “I should’ve known, she didn’t even read the damn thing.”

You stood in silence for a moment. You had to wonder if this was as weird for him as it was for you. You had to admit, you did not see this coming. You could only wonder if he was disappointed to see you there.

You cleared your throat. “Look, you don’t have to watch it with me. We can sit in separate rows -“

“Don’t be stupid. Here.” Levi held out a cup to you. “You didn’t get to read the first book with anything. - Let’s go see if they fucked our shit up.”

Levi grabbed your wrist, tugging towards the direction of your theater. Your skin tingled where he touched you. You weren’t surprised by the amount of stares, but each set of eyes you passed was still unnerving. You were glad to be in your seats where it’d be harder for them.

“I heard they’re already filming the next one,” Levi stated after a few moments. He wasn’t looking at you. He concentrated almost too hard on the screen, you thought he was going to bore holes into it. “We should go see it together when it comes out. Maybe grab dinner beforehand.”

“Like…a date?” you asked. It slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“What the hell else?”

You paused for a moment, twisting to look at him. You couldn’t figure out if he was serious or not. His cheeks gained a flush of pink. You smiled at him, then settled back into your seat.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

Levi nodded, but didn’t say anything else as the lights went down. Somewhere through the night, in the tension of the dark theater, your hand ended up enveloped in his.

In the morning Stem and Spine was your first stop. You were there as soon as they opened. Mikasa was doing the opening drawer. You watched as Levi went up and slammed his hand down on the counter. She didn’t so much as flinch.

“Oi,” he said. Mikasa looked up at him. “What the hell was that stunt you pulled yesterday?”

You walked up behind him. “Yeah, you did miss one hell of a movie.”

“I don’t know why you’re both so annoyed, it seems my plan worked,” she said bored, not even bothering to look up from the cash she was counting.

“How did you know we wouldn’t just walk out of the theater and not watch the movie together?” you asked.

“You both like that series too much. Besides, Levi may know a lot about tea, but he’s also stupid. He never does anything for himself. So while he may not have realized what he was feeling, we all could see it. He just needed a little push. And so did you, [Name]. I knew you liked Levi.”

“I never actually told you that, though. I never told anyone.”

“You didn’t have to. You could smell it in the air when you were around each other. Like a call and response. You two were perfect and you couldn’t even see it. I knew from the first day you walked into the shop.”

Levi took your hand. “Don’t look so fucking smug.”

Mikasa laughed as Levi took you to his office. As soon as you stepped in Levi shut the door behind you. He gave you a swift kiss on the cheek as he went to his desk.

“She’s right you know,” he started, intentionally avoiding looking at you. “We are the perfect blend.”

You couldn’t help but wholeheartedly agree.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi rivaille x reader #captain levi #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman #tea shop au #modern attack on titan #modern au #alpha Levi #alpha Levi Ackerman #omegaverse #alpha omega #omegaverse au #aot omegaverse #snk x you #snk levi #snk x y/n #snk omegaverse #modern Levi Ackerman

[thinkingotherwise]

Thanks for the request of Haruka & Bofurin gang with haruka's older sister s/o, but can you please do part 2 that her "friends & boyfriend“ came to her town & found her to beat the sh*t up but her brother & Bofurin gang protects her from her so called friends and boyfriend.

Part 2 incoming! Fight, fight, fight!

Wind Breaker characters x Haruka Sakura's older sister part 2

part 1

characters as written in prev request: Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suou, Akihiko Nirei, Hajime Umemiya, Kyotaro Sugishita, Ren Kaji, and Mitsuki Kiryu (all platonic) TW: bullying

- The next several weeks after kinda resolving some issues with your brother you spent with him and his friends. - They did all they could to make you feel better, and several attempts were made to support you in being even a little more open towards others. Mostly by Umemiya. - Although feeling awkward receiving their kindness and help, you still tried your best for Haruka. - You really wanted to make it up to him, he wasn't the one to blame for your bad choices of friends and you knew that you caused him a lot of harm by cutting him off so suddenly. - The two of you were very stiff and nervous during your sibling times and you would barely get closer, if it weren't for Nirei and Suou. They were so persistent and reliable in connecting you and your brother. - After all this help, you hesitated but finally decided and told Haruka and the Bofurin members that during your free time you could, once again very reluctantly, help them out and the townsfolks.

- You were helping out by painting the walls, with some of the guys, being Umemiya, Sugishita, and Mitsuki. - You secretly listened to the oldest boy talking with Mitsuki about some farming game, where you could also befriend other farmers. You'd lie saying that it didn't brighten up your day even a little. - You got to know that Umemiya was actually quite cool, if he didn't talk to you that much, so you appreciated Mitsuki for taking his attention. - Next thing you knew the old man came from around the corner with a young man who seemed very familiar, too familiar. - He called you and said that the man said he knew you and wanted to talk with you. You took a few steps in their direction before stopping, as you recognized him. - You immediately froze and felt a shiver ran through you. It was the bastard, you called your ex. - Sugishita noticing you getting anxious came in front of you hiding you from the men. - Your ex seeing that told you and the other guys that he just wanted to talk to you, and that it was something important that wouldn't take long. - Why did you agree, you're not sure. Maybe you wanted to look cool in front of the Bofurin members, or maybe you just didn't want to look pathetic. However, it was a big mistake because after following him to some back street you were greeted by other people, that you once called "friends". - At the same time Umemiya had a bad feeling and told Mitsuki to get Haruka and inform him about this.

- Someone grabbed your shirt pulling you roughly towards the group and then pushing you to the wall making your head hit the bricks. - You felt disoriented as you tried to keep standing. - "How did a trash like you think it could get away from us?" - "Do you think you're better because you have some new pitiful friends?" - The bastards from your school asked and you gritted your teeth putting on a front. - "Funny, thought you were the trash." You replied bitterly. - "Oh, right at least I don't need to exploit others to feel better, unlike you." - They certainly didn't appreciate you talking back and one of the girls took their glass bottle before throwing it at you. - At the last second you moved away looking at the broken glass and then back to them. - "You're fuckin' sick." You said and your ex gritted his teeth before coming closer to you. - He was the first one to lose patience and brought his fist back ready to punch you. - You were too startled by the previous attack to react quick enough but you didn't have. Haruka came out of nowhere and grabbed his fist before kicking him in the stomach. Still holding his hand he pulled him closer and punched him in the face. A loud crack was heard. Your brother then followed with another kick in the chest but this time he let go of his hand letting him fall back into some of your old friends. - You were startled by this but when you saw the back of your younger brother you felt like the weight was lifted off your shoulders. - Then you heard more voices from behind and when you turned you noticed other Bofurin members ready to throw hands if needed. - You felt like crying. They all came because they were worried for you and wanted to protect you. - The strange feeling of being taken care of and protected filled you and you wondered if that's what family and friends were like.

- When you were having a small emotional moment, Haruka was seething. He stood in front of the people who took his older sister away from him, people that made her life miserable. His fists tightened and he was more than ready to have a talk with them. Just like Umemiya taught him.

- After the guys left you and Bofurin members alone, scrambling and picking up your ex who was hurt the most. - You felt tears brimming in your eyes. - When you looked up from the ground and saw Haruka in the middle of his friends getting praised for fighting so well, your tears fell down. - You were so moved and so thankful for having them by you, for them letting you be part of their lives, for Haruka protecting you, for everything. - Kaji was the first one to notice you were crying, as he stood more on the sides of the group crowding around your brother. He came to you and gave you a tissue he had in his pocket. - When the rest saw he stood by you and noted you were crying they moved quickly around you asking if you were alright or if something happened. - "I just feel so happy to have you guys. You're the best." You said teary. - The guys sighed in relief and when Haruka scoffed, in relief, he stepped to you and smacked your shoulders. - "Don't worry me like that." He mumbled. - You pulled him, who was trying to run from you, closer and embraced him tightly feeling thankful for having your younger brother back in your life. - Umemiya seeing that couldn't help himself and brought the other guys closer for a group hug, smashing you all together.

Tags: @misticbullet

#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader #wind breaker (satoru nii) #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker #haruka sakura x reader #hayato suou x reader #akihiko nirei x reader #hajime umemiya x reader #kyotaro sugishita x reader #ren kaji x reader #mitsuki kiryu x reader

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Drag My Teeth Across Your Beating Heart | Carnal XV

Carnal (adjective) : relating to or given to crude bodily pleasures and appetites

Simon was born with what his father called 'The Curse'. A wanton craving for taboo meat. Since meeting the similarly cursed Johnny, the two had formed a bond. They didn't just fight together, they ate together, slept together, and shared everything.

When a favor to Price reveals another cursed person, Simon worries she could destroy everything.

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism, smut, voyeurism

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Howl - Florence + The Machine

Body disposal isn't hard, not for Simon. It was a ritual. One passed down from his father. 

Disfigure

Dismember

Dispose

As easy as any prayer. On his knees, a rag over his mouth and nose, a saw in hand. A ritual like any other. This time it felt like mass without the sacrament. Nothing to slip into his mouth, no savior, no priest. 

He’d never been one for church. His mum had dragged him and Tommy a couple times mostly for Christmas and Easter Sunday. The only days that mattered. They’d been baptized Catholic because that’s what his father was raised as but never did any of the following sacraments. They’d stopped going by the time he was ten and he stopped believing in any possibility of a God after that first meal with his father. 

He had a new religion. Led by his father. He supposed all fathers are god in a sense. That’s what it felt like the first time they ate together. Divine Salvation.

The stable smelled like rot. It was cold enough that the body hadn’t started to turn to sludge but the smell was acrid. He stripped his clothes and left them folded on a table in the tack room. Skin is easier to clean than cloth. 

As many pieces as possible. Start with the joints and a brick, smash until the bones break then cut through the flesh. Humans are fragile.  His father had taught him that at a young age. Even the smooth leather of a belt could cut skin if struck hard enough. Soft skin made him feel vulnerable. Calluses were armor. 

He liked soft on others. Spilling between his fingers. Made him feel powerful. A show of strength to hold something fragile and not break it apart. 

Nina looked soft, like the flesh of her neck would mold into his hands. His arm had wrapped around her waist so fittingly. 

Johnny still had soft parts. Thighs, neck, arse. His favorite position was Johnny on his back, thighs wrapped around his waist. Simon would grip his arse like it held him to earth. Simon’s teeth would drag against Johnny’s throat. He’d cum inside him and Johnny’s spend would slick between them. 

When Johnny asked Simon to bite him last Summer, it twisted something nasty in his stomach. The monster he’d always fought down reared its head. The same monster that controlled his father. The one that took control in Mexico all those years ago. 

He hacked and hacked at the body. The smaller the parts the better. The harder to reconstruct, the easier to scatter. He’d seen crows nearby. He could feed them over the winter with this. Simon never liked waste. 

He took a hammer to the teeth, porcelain pieces. Tips of the fingers cut off. No tattoos to skin off this time. Man to meat. 

It took several hours. The floor of the stall was covered in blood. He was covered in blood. There was a hose, still working. He gathered the meat into a cooler and sprayed down the stall and then himself. He paced the stable, keeping his blood warm while he dried off.

There was something sweet in the air. Straw and glass, brown with Nina’s blood from the other day. Johnny’s scent was mixed in there too. She’d been wearing his clothes at the time. His cock twitched. He smacked the side of his face to snap himself back.

Gathered his clothes and walked back to the house. He heard them as he stepped inside. Johnny’s hurried babbling and Nina’s moans. He quietly took his boots off and crept towards the sound. It was wrong, yes. Hearing Johnny again made his blood hot. 

There was a mirror on the wall opposite them. From his angle in the hall, he could watch unseen. They were mostly clothed, only a small disappointment. His cock strained against his jeans. 

They looked good together. Like something meant to be. Even with Johnny’s lack of experience he could work her up well. Simon watched the muscles in her back stretch, sweat glide down her back. He wanted to walk in, lick it off. Slip his hand between her legs. Tell Johnny what to do, how to touch her. He wanted to show her where to nip and where to kiss. Johnny fell apart whenever Simon’s teeth grazed where his jaw met his ear. 

She was crying Johnny’s name. Johnny stared up at her with glazed eyes, the same eyes that used to look at him. Those eyes flicked to the mirror and Simon took a step back. He crept back down the hall and outside. He walked back to the stable. 

He found himself by the pile of bloodied straw and glass. He grabbed a handful of straw and held it near his face, breathing in. He fumbled with his zipper and button, haphazardly pulling his cock out. 

His fantasies were a crowded mess of bodies, sweat and cum. Nina and Johnny’s smell mixing with his, herby and sweet. All the positions they could arrange themselves in. Take turns riding and fucking. He wanted Nina to sit on his face while Johnny rode him. Fuck Johnny while he buried his face into Nina’s cunt. 

Simon groaned, cum mixing with the mess on the floor in front of him. He sighed, shaking his hand off. He’d have to wash the floor again. 

He stood, looking at the floor, the smell making his eyes roll back. He wanted the three of them to be together. He would make it happen. He tried being the lone wolf. Separate himself from Johnny but look at what had happened. They both needed him. Johnny can’t hunt on his own and Nina seemed incapable of it entirely. He’d have to teach them both. Keep them alive. 

They’d have this house, some place to stay. No more shitty hotels and hostels or car back seats. He could outfit the cellar to better butcher meat.He never told Johnny but he didn’t even have a flat himself. Any leave had him traveling around, hunting and camping. They’d never go hungry. It could be good. Something stable. 

He thought about his family. The ones he failed. He could still smell them, his stomach twisting while his mouth watered. He made a vow that night. He was the only one allowed to eat his loved ones. It was only right. His right. He’d failed them. He wouldn’t fail Johnny or Nina. 

He made dinner that night. Steak cooked with garlic, butter and thyme. The smell dragged both Johnny and Nina out of their bedrooms and to him. Nina’s hair was still damp from her shower. Made the whole house smell like vanilla. 

“Nina,” he said after they’d all sat down. She looked up from her plate. Her chair was touching Johnny’s. Simon laid a hand on Johnny’s thigh, earning a side glance.  “I want to teach you how to hunt.”

“When?” She asked through a mouthful of food.

“This weekend.”

“Si-” Johnny attempted to interrupt.

“Do you want to learn?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he smiled. 

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @cathnoneofyourbusiness @pssytrux

#Carnal #simon ghost riley x oc #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #modern warfare II #modern warfare #call of duty fanfic #call of duty #john soap mactavish #John soap mactavish x oc #soapghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap #dark fic #ghoap

[bullet-prooflove]

Clean: Trey Cahill x Reader

Tagging: @@mariashane @kj77 @tiredmarshmellowuwu @choppedgalaxynerd @herwordslikebutterflywings @flopiboni @words-and-seeds @aiko24k @@kane-nero-6 @wabi-sabi1090 @kmc1989

Trey used to traffic drugs. His dealer used to give him ten grand to transport a few bricks of coke over the border into Arizona under the guise of delivering one of the classic cars he’d been restoring to a buyer.

It was usually a five hour trip to the stash house. He’d drop off the merchandise, take his cut and then get high in a shitty roadside motel. He’d stay there for days until he was right again to drive the five hours back to Vegas.

He doesn’t do that crap anymore, he hasn’t since Folsom got him into rehab two years ago. That’s when he got serious about restoration, started turning a profit on the garage, building a client base. He may not ask where all of his spare parts come from for the sake of plausible deniability but the heavy stuff, he’s out of it.

If he gets caught it’s not just his life he fucks up, it’s yours too. You’re already getting shit for dating a former criminal, you will never admit it to him but Folsom had filled Trey in after the scuffle with the defence attorney. That stuff, it reflects badly on you, it puts you under scrutiny.

He’s kept his nose clean since then. He’s stopped going to the bars with all the shady shit going on, lost contact with the people who could suck him back into that life, tossed his burner phones. He’s gone completely legit.

He has his head tucked under the bonnet of a 1969 Chevy Corvette when Killian turns up at the garage. There’s a problem with the starter, he’s still trying to figure it out when he hears someone clearing their throat behind him. He knows it’s Killian, even before he glances over his shoulder. He’s been trying to get a hold of him for days now, putting the word out through the people they used to have in common for Trey to get in touch because he needs the cars to move product.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls.” Killian says as Trey straightens up and turns to face him.

He’s leaning against the hood of a Stingray Trey’s been tuning up, his hands are tucked into the pockets of his black leather jacket. He looks more haggard than the last time Trey saw him. Dipping into his own supply, Trey thinks.

“That’s not my life anymore.” Trey tells him as he picks up the rag from his work bench and uses it to clean the grease from his hands. “I thought you would have got the message when I stopped buying drugs from you.”

“Hm.” Killian says as he holds up a baggie of coke between two fingers. “So I assume you don’t want this.”

This is how it starts, he remembers. A freebie, a little fun, before he knows it he’s five grand in the hole, doing ‘jobs’ to pay off his debt.

“Do you think I’m really that weak?” Trey laughs, crossing his arms over his chest trying to ignore the twitch in his fingers. “That I’m going to jump back into bed with you because you offer me a bump.”

“I think if I leave this here.” Killian says setting the baggie down on the workbench alongside Trey. “I’ll be getting a call from you in a couple of hours’ time for a little more.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.” Trey bites back and Killian gives him that smile, the one that sets Trey’s teeth on edge.

“Once an addict…” Killian says, pushing the baggie towards him.  “…always an addict.”

It’s a few hours later that you turn up at the garage. The lights are still on despite the late hour. Part of you is worried and the other part pissed because Trey was supposed to meet you for dinner tonight at that little Chinese place you both like. You’d sat there for an hour before you realised he wasn’t coming. He hasn’t been picking up his calls or his texts.

When you step inside you find him hunched over the workbench with his head in his hands. Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and he flinches at the sensation before he turns his head to look at you. His eyes are red rimmed, the vibrant blue shining through the frustrated tears as the muscle in his jaw clenches.

“Trey.” You say softly and he takes a sharp inhale of breath before he tilts his head towards something on the workbench.

“I need you to get rid of it.” He says, his voice pained as you follow his gaze to the baggie of coke. “If I touch it…”

He trails off because he doesn’t need to say anything else.

Two years sobriety, everything he’s worked for, it’ll be gone and he can’t go back to that place, not when he’s come so far. But the thing is he can’t seem to help himself. His mouth is dry, his fingers itch, he can feel himself giving in and he’s powerless to stop it.

You pick up the baggie and tuck it into your pocket. The relief is visible, Trey exhales for the first time in what seems like hours, the tension seems to flood out of his body as he uses the back of his hand to wipe across his eyes.

“I need to know what happened tonight.” You say quietly. “How this ended up here.”

If it were anyone else including Folsom he’d lie, say one of his customers dropped it because he wouldn’t want them to know about all the bad shit he’s done in the past. But it’s you and he’s always been honest with you and that’s not about to change today.

He tells you everything, from the product he used to move for Killian, to the nights he spent high as kite. You listen quietly, your hand holding his and he’s grateful for that because being here with you, it keeps him anchored, it reminds him that he’s more than just his addiction.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He says quietly as he clasps your hand to his cheek. “Really I don’t.”

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#trey csi vegas #trey cahill x reader #trey cahill #trey cahill x you #trey x reader #trey x you #csi vegas #csi #trey csi

[weaksspot]

sam splinting dean's broken fingers for @preseriesdean <3 (read on ao3)

In some grimy gas station bathroom mirror Dean stares down his reflection until he can’t stand it a second longer. His fist goes through the glass and right into the brick wall behind it. The angle is bad and there’s the snap of two fingers breaking, but no pain. No pain as he picks out the little shards of glass and flecks of grit and drops them into the sink, turns the water on, a swirl of blood chasing the pieces down the drain.

He tapes the broken fingers—right hand, little and ring—to each other with duct tape from the trunk of the car, tears it off the roll with his teeth. He drives back to the bunker barely touching the wheel. It still doesn’t hurt.

Sam doesn’t see him till the next morning, when he catches him by the coffee maker, both of them still kind of bleary. Neither one of them’s been sleeping much, not for weeks. Sam mumbles hey, Dean, without really looking at him, and Dean hms back, goes on pouring himself his coffee.

Then Sam asks, quietly: “What happened to your hand?”

For a second Dean just stands there not saying anything. Thinks about saying nothing, not answering at all, just going. Even being in a room with Sam just now—he can stand it, because he has to, but it’s—difficult. Some days are worse than others.

“Dean?”

He looks down at his hand. His knuckles are swollen and scabbed over and there’s still blood between his fingers, in the creases of his skin, because he slept in his clothes last night, didn’t shower. It looks like it should hurt. Why doesn’t it hurt.

“Nothing,” he says, feeling Sam’s eyes burning into his back. “Just hit something too hard, it’s fine.”

“Let me see,” Sam says, not really a question, not quite a plea.

“I said it’s fine.” Dean turns to go and Sam is closer than he’d thought, just behind him—Dean turns and almost knocks into him and it’s just about the closest they’ve been to each other all week.

Sam grabs his wrist and the contact fizzes under Dean’s skin. Crawls right up his arm. Sam’s skin on his skin. Jesus fucking Christ he misses him, and he sees him every god damn day. He stands there and stares at Sam’s hand while Sam looks at his taped up fingers, his busted knuckles. His voice is quiet when he speaks again.

“Dean, I need to splint these properly,” he says. His voice is steady but there’s something in it that makes Dean’s throat hurt, scratchy at the back. “They’re gonna heal crooked.”

“What’s it matter,” comes out of Dean’s mouth without him really meaning to let it. Sam doesn’t say anything but he exhales slowly, that zen yoga breath shit he does when he’s trying to keep his temper. What are you mad at me for now, Dean wants to ask him, but doesn’t. Sam is still holding his wrist and Dean can feel his own pulse under Sam’s thumb.

“Come here,” Sam says, and steers him, by the wrist, to the table. “Sit down.”

Dean sits. Sam leaves the room just long enough to get a first aid kit, comes back and sits down beside him, scoots his chair over so their knees are almost touching. Not long ago Dean would’ve knocked them together on purpose, or slung a leg over Sam’s, maybe, if he was in that kind of mood. Now he twitches his leg to the side to avoid it, even as Sam reaches for his hand again, lifts it up and sets it on the table as if Dean wouldn’t be capable of doing that himself.

Sam’s got tweezers in his hand and he starts on picking the little bits of dirt out of Dean’s knuckles that Dean had missed, the tiny pieces that are stuck in deep. Dislodging them makes him bleed all over again, breaks open scabs that had spent the night forming, and Sam all calm and steady mops the blood away and goes on working. He uses scissors to cut away the duct tape, so he doesn’t hurt Dean’s broken fingers by pulling on it.

It hurts anyway. For the first time, now, here, with Sam handling him so carefully. Now it hurts.

“Ouch,” he murmurs, as Sam real careful cleans up the surface damage first, alcohol stinging the scraped-off skin. As he fits the splint to Dean’s fingers the bones shift and pain shoots up right into his wrist, so sudden the shock of it makes him jerk. Sam squeezes his wrist to keep him still and goes on working until Dean says, breathless, “Sammy, you’re hurting me.”

Sam lets go of him altogether and Dean looks up at him, for the first time this morning, and sees him put his hands over his face. Watches his shoulders shudder as he breathes in. Then he takes his hands away and for just an instant Dean is afraid he might be crying. He isn’t. He looks Dean in the face, steady, and says: “We’re almost done.”

No answer from Dean, so he goes back to what he was doing—secures the splint, tapes gauze over Dean’s knuckles, and Dean sits there with his whole hand throbbing with pain and it’s the realest sharpest thing he’s felt in an age and for just a second he wishes, fleetingly, that he could stay here and go on feeling it and not have to go back to—to the constant fear, to the guilt that feels like a bear trap is crushing his throat all the god damn time, so huge and unfaceable that guilt feels like far too small a word for it. To the dead nerve numbness that consumes all the rest.

Let him have this glowing pain instead, and the warmth of his brother’s careful hands.

Anything else. Let him have anything else.

“There,” Sam says, when he’s done, and Dean looks at him and there’s that rock in the pit of his stomach as he thinks, he’s not ever gonna love me the same way again. Dean looks at his brother and knows he’s looking at something that he’s broken beyond repair. Sam looks—pensive, hesitant, like there’s something he wants to say but hasn’t decided if he’s going to yet. It’s a look he wears often, lately, and most of the time he doesn’t end up saying anything. They don’t talk a lot, these days. What would there be to say.

Sam is still holding his wrist, and Dean misses him like his chest is caving in.

He lifts Dean’s hand, then, and without reason, without warning, presses his knuckles to his lips and kisses him there, just once, over the gauze, with his eyes closed. Then he lets go and gets up and puts away the first aid kit, and leaves the room without a word, and Dean sits there where Sam leaves him, and the pain is unbearable, and there is nothing he can do but bear it.

#this is entirely not what i meant to write when i read your prompt!! but season 9 is on my mind so this is what came out #it was fun trying to capture the s9 vibes so it was a good exercise for me at the very least :-) #fic #mine #my fic

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Part TWO of this fun little arc!

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

TWs: blood, beatings, captivity, interrogation, torture, broken bone mention

It had been days. The guards were getting frustrated. The floor kept getting bloodier.

Mariano kept getting back up. 

The guard’s fist collided with his face again, sending more blood spattering along the concrete floor as he staggered. His wrists were cuffed behind his back, offering no help as he struggled to stay upright on his knees. He reeled, dark eyes cutting back up to the man as he regained his balance. 

Mariano grinned up at the guard, bloody and wild. “Maybe I’ll remember where Manuel is if you hit me aga—” This time, Dimitri heard the thunk of the man’s knuckles meeting Mariano’s temple. 

All at once, Mariano dropped. His expression slid off of his face. His shoulders went slack. He didn’t make any move to keep his balance or catch himself, however futile it would’ve been. His head bounced when it hit the floor. 

The guard’s foot reared back. 

“Stop!” Dimitri shouted, surprising himself with the force of it. “God, stop it! He’s down, he’s fucking down already!” 

The guard kicked out, the toe of his boot burying itself in Mariano’s stomach just as focus began to return to his eyes. Mariano wheezed, trying to curl in on himself. “Does this jog your memory? Huh?” The man snarled, kicking him harder before shoving the heel of his boot into Mariano’s hip. He forced him onto his back, and Dimitri saw how Mariano arched as his own weight bore down onto his broken arm. “Got the info I want?”

“Maybe–” Mariano’s voice was high and tense, hovering up in his nose. “Maybe I–I need another reminder. That last one barely did…barely did anything.”

This time, the man dropped to his knees. He straddled Mariano, fists raining down relentlessly. Dimitri didn’t know quite when Mariano’s glasses were punched clean off his face. He didn’t recognize when the plastic frames skidded to a stop at the base of their cell door, lenses shattered.

He recognized how Mariano tugged at his magic, though. He recognized the way Mariano parted his lips and opened his teeth. How he tried to cradle the should-be-forming heat. It wouldn’t ever work, though. Not with the entire torture room as warded as it was. 

The man didn’t stop, joyous as he was by the complete power he had over a notorious war mage. He didn’t stop until Mariano was still again. Not until his eyes had lost all semblance of focus, and the half-lidded pact rings shone blankly at Dimitri.

It didn’t stop Mariano from mumbling things that sounded like vague, nonsensical taunts when he was dragged back in by the front of his shirt. He fell like a sack of bricks when the guard dropped him inside. Dimitri met the man’s eyes from his seat on the floor. The smirk on the man’s face, spattered with the fine spray of blood from Mariano’s beating, made Dimitri’s jaw tense. 

He stayed still, glaring up at him.

"We'll try again tomorrow. See if that knocked anything loose." The man rolled his shoulders, popping his bloody knuckles as he left. “Same time as usual.”

The silence that fell when the door shut was only broken by Mariano's dazed murmuring. Dimitri waited, frozen in his spot by something he couldn't name, before finally crawling to Mariano and helping him roll onto his side. He slid his fingers into his hair, bringing Mariano's forehead to press against his hip.

"Shhh." He whispered, commanding and harsh. "You're done. Shh." 

Mariano listened, quieting down and occasionally shivering against Dimitri. He didn’t sob. He didn’t beg. Slowly, gradually, he began to relax under Dimitri’s hand.

#whump #captivity whump #beatings #beaten up #blood #captivity #interrogation #torture #broken bones #only a mention tho dw #semi-consciousness #mage of violence #dimitri #the cocaptives arc

[themarginalthinker]

Wheels and Circles

(tiny drabble that's more of a feeling exploration. The pack is leaving their home of a long time. That means leaving lots of things behind.)

-

"This one?"

"No."

"Okay, uh. This one?"

"Dude."

"...I mean, okay, but this one is-"

"Paul."

The man in question flinches a little at Dwayne's tone. The tone that said 'we're done' with more finality than any scolding. Paul's fingers still linger on the paper and cardboard slip for the record.

He doesn't turn around, and he doesn't let go.

He hears Dwayne come up behind him, sees his hand coming before it touches his own but Paul still jerks the record away, keeping it out of the other's reach and stepping a few feet away. His lip lifts, showing the faintest tip of white teeth as he does.

Dwayne sighs.

"You know why we're doing this."

Yeah. Doesn't mean he has to like it. It doesn't mean that with every denial, he can't feel a little more of himself chipping, slipping away into the ocean outside.

He also knows they don't have time for this.

The clock was ticking every day. Stacking the others' anxiety atop his own in his head like bricks in a wall that will topple at the smallest push.

They had to leave Santa Carla, and things like records wouldn't find space in travel bags.

Paul gives the battered Beatles LP a long, last look, before setting it into its box alongside the others. In the bond, he can feel Dwayne relax, a little. There won't be a fight tonight.

Another one.

Paul is, however, done for the moment. He slips out of the storage space, away from Dwayne, past the others - past David, who has been staring at that fucking roadmap like it's going to reveal to him the secrets of the universe if only he look at it a little fucking longer - and out of the cave.

Paul lets the others' questioning prods at his mind fall off like oil on water. He turns when he's out of the cave, to the rickety staircase, and rather than climb that, he kicks off his boots and toes off his socks, and sets his extended claws to the bare rock of the cliffside.

The stone digs into his hands and feet as he digs into it. With a pull, he's up a step, and another. Bit by bit, like a lizard, like a mountain goat, chimerical creature, Paul ascends. The wind pull at him, his hair whipping around his face. People never mentions just how windy the sea is. Salt and brine and something pure works into his lungs as he lets himself breathe, taking it in.

Up and up, past a fatal fall height for a human.

Paul thinks about letting go. His claws slipping from their inhuman grip, feeling the fullness of the wind and spray of the ocean under his arms as he plunges. The swing of the Earth towards him as she hurls on, regardless of him.

He doesn't, though.

Paul eventually makes it to a small alcove - a jut of rock not quite near the top of the cliff, but close enough that from here, he can see the bay. The very tip of a rock formation way out there, cutting the perfect line of the horizon in two.

He crouches, watching the grey clouds roll over the black sky, slowly blotting out stars. In this season, there's soon to be squalls. Growing colder as the sun leaves them inch by inch, day by day.

What does he care of the sun - it's only concern to him ought to be keeping away from it.

Paul can feel David now, in the bond. Asking after him. They still have lots to do. Plans made, and meant to be followed through so this transition from hearth to heath will go smoothly. David will get angry anyway if he just ignores him outright for too long.

Paul moves to sit, and watch the ocean. The moon, in her round, silver face.

The tide changes.

#the lost boys #drabble #paul tlb #idk were this one was going #I just like exploring an emotion

[crossroadsserpent]

Rufus Junior "RJ" Firefly boyfriend headcanons.

(Gender neutral reader but I will be doing a nonbinary reader and a transmasc reader later on.)

I'm low key offended on how little RJ Firefly content there is, he's a big sweet guy and deserves all the love and attention. Please enjoy these headcanons for our favorite quiet bear man!

Warnings first!: fluff, smut?, cursing, violence, murder, mild bullying, Captain Spaulding (yes, that man need his own warning.), cute lovey moments (a warning for those who don't like romance.), honestly if you've seen House Of 1000 Corpses you know what to expect from this.

~~~~~

Rufus is a huge guy, 6'10" to be precise and built like a brick wall. That being said, he's actually the most kind and gentle out of the whole Firefly family. Literally the most gentle of giants.

He is very awkward about his size at first since you're so much smaller that him. He is so afraid he won't realize he's holding you too tight and you'll end up passing out... or worse (broken bones or dead.)

RJ is touch starved. The first time you hugged him you could feel his body tense up then relax.

He is very cautious about returning hugs at first, afraid of his own strength, but once you assured him you can handle it he hugs you all the time!

Speaking of hugs, he gives the best bear hugs! He absolutely envelopes you in the tightest, warmest hugs any chance he gets.

Rufus loves to carry you around! Doesnt matter if you're skinny or your chubby, he can pick you up with ease, carrying you all around the Firefly farm.

He loves it when you tag along on vehicle pick ups! You get to sit beside him in his tow truck, windows down, the radio blasting as the truck speeds down those long back roads.

Continuing with the last one. RJ loved teaching you how to use the mechanisms on the tow truck. He also tries to teach you how to fix cars but you tend to daydream while listening to his voice.

Oh and that voice. The voice of a damn GOD! RJ was very quiet around his family, there really wasn't much to say to them anyways. The first time he spoke to you your knees went weak and your heart skipped a beat. His voice was soft but deep, like crimson velvet. And the thick southern drawl could make any heart melt.

His singing voice is just as beautiful as his speaking voice.

Rufus loves it when you sit on his lap! He'd have you on his lap all day if he could, he just loves having you so close. (Especially when you lay your head on his chest, it just makes him melt.)

Rufus tries to protect you from the chaos that is his family, but there have been a few instances where you got into an argument with Otis that ended in a laughing fit. (You honestly weren't sure what happened but someone said something funny and the both of you fell into a fit of giggles and laughs. Needless to say he likes you.)

Baby likes you but did threaten to cut you to pieces it you hurt Rufus (which you assured her you had no intention of doing that.)

Hugo ignored you for the most part, only talking to you about TV or something.

Mama Firefly likes you a lot! you do make her son happy so she adores you, you're one of her babies now.

Tiny didn't really have much of an opinion on you, he loves you like you were another one of his many siblings.

Captain Spaulding was the one who introduced you both, he was kind of like a dad to you so you know he cares about you (regardless of his loud ass opinions of you, most of which were on 'how much of a fuckin' pussy you were being' over your nervousness around Rufus.

He likes to make you things. (Just one of his love languages.) Little carved animals, animal bone/teeth jewelry, deer antler beads and buttons....

Rufus's smiles when you tell him how much you love his gifts are just so sweet! He looks so adorable when he smiles his little smiles, getting a little sparkle in his eyes every time he does.

The first date you two went on was simple but fun. You two got fast food and rode the backroads listening to music until it got dark enough to see the stars. Rufus found a good place to park his truck and the two of you stood leaning against the hood of the truck, just watching the stars and talking.

That first date was also when you had your first kiss make-out session. When the two of you were tired of watching the stars you climbed back into the truck, intending on heading back to Spaulding's. You two were softly talking about animals (especially dogs, he loves dogs) and he turned to you, looking a little nervous. He gently took your chin, tilting your head to look at him. You gave him a slightly confused look, not quite sure what he was doing at first, but it became very clear when his lips connected with yours. His lips were surprisingly soft, and they locked together so perfectly with yours. He moved his hand from your chin to your shoulder, urging you to move closer, which you did happily. The kiss turned into a gentle make-out session, one of his arms wrapped around your waist, the other hand carefully holding the back of your head. Your own hands were tangled into his beautiful long brown hair.

That night was also the first time you two cuddled. Neither of you wanted to go home so Rufus suggested the two of you just sleep there in the truck. He moved over to the passenger seat, allowing you to crawl into his lap, which you did, laying your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you protectively, holding you lovingly.

Rufus is very warm! You never need a blanket when you sleep with him!

He loves it when you brush his hair for him. (He wants to brush yours but is so afraid of being too rough with you.)

RJ wears his sleeveless shirts open extremely often. Even more after you started allowing your hands to explore his chest and stomach every time you two are alone.

Rufus loves dogs, especially his own. He got the dog when it was a puppy, taking it from some asshole who had been beating it. He called it Brutus (In Corpses the dog doesn't have a name and it makes me really sad.)

Rufus was the first to say 'I love you'. The real first time was when he was shitfaced after a Halloween ritual. He'd been sitting on edge of the front porch, periodically drinking out of the liquor bottle that sat next to him. You came out side looking for him and found him on the porch. He pulled you into his lap and held you without a word, picking up the bottle again, but before he could take another drink you snached the bottle from his hand. He looked down at you, watching with wide eyes as you take several swallows from the bottle. You finished, handing the bottle back to him with a giggle. He took the bottle, taking a drink from it, then, without thinking, he says "God I love you."

Rufus had been sitting on the edge of the porch by himself, wanting to be away from his family, needing just a bit of quiet time. Brutus laid beside him, sleeping peacefully to the sound of the cicadas and crickets. Rufus had an open bottle of liquor sitting next to him that he was drinking out of.

You had been looking all over the house for him, eventually hearing from Tiny that he'd gone outside. You ventured out onto the porch, smiling when you see RJ sitting there with his dog. Closing just the screen door, you move to crouch down infront of him. "Howdy, everything okay?" You ask, a soft smile on your face. He nods, reaching out to grab your arm, pulling you to his lap. You happily sit on his lap, laying your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around your waist. The two of you sat like that for a while, just enjoying the night and eachother's company. After a while Rufus picked up the liquor bottle, putting it to his lips. However, you snatched the bottle before he could even take a drink. He looked down at you, his eyes widening as he watched you take several big gulps from the bottle. You handed the bottle back to him when you were done, giggling when you see the look on his face. Rufus takes a drink, letting out a gruff sigh after he swallowed. "God I love ya..."

The second time (the first time he remembered saying it.) Was after he watched you kill for the first time. You had been put in charge of watching over a victim, a woman with long blonde hair that baby had tied to a chair. Unfortunately, the victim had managed to get the ropes undone. They attacked you, knocking you to the floor, shrieking and trying to hit you. Otis and Rufus ran in just in time to watch you roughly grab the victims hair, pulling them down close enough for you to bite down onto their neck. Otis pulled the victim off you and Rufus helped you up looking terrified. It must have been the blood that covered your chin, chest, and neck. You spit out whatever blood and skin was in your mouth, letting out a laugh. Once Rufus realized what you had done the words just came out without thinking. "Shit, Y/N. I fuckin' love you..."

You were sat on a chair across from the bound and gagged blonde woman that baby had dolled up. You had been looking through a shitty magazine while you watched the victim, waiting for baby to return. You hadn't noticed the woman undoing the ropes until it was far too late. She lunged at you, causing you to jump up, reaching for your knife, but you weren't fast enough. She had knocked you over, pinning you to the ground, shrieking and screaming as she attempted to hit you.

You tried to fight her off, continuing to reach for your knife, but she was persistent. Otis and Rufus both heard the shrieks and the banging, running into the room just in time to see you grab a handful of the blonde's hair, pulling her down close enough to sink your teeth into her soft flesh. She began to thrash around as you sunk your teeth deeper into the meat on her neck, blood flowin from your mouth, down your chin, neck, and chest. Otis pulled her off of you just as she went limp, allowing Rufus to grab your arm, pulling you up quickly, a horrified look on his face.

You spit out a chunk of flesh and some blood mixed with spit as Otis dragged the body out of the room. "She shoulda stayed in that damn chair." You said with a laugh, looking up at Rufus who let out a sigh of relief upon realizing the blood wasn't yours. "Shit, Y/N, I fuckin' love you."

#rufus jr x reader #x reader #rufus #rj firefly x reader #house of 1000 corpses #headcanons

[niabang]

The Summer it Came True

Previous chapter

Chapter 8

Pairings: Bangchan × black female reader named Kel

Word Count: 1872

More under the cut!

You woke up in the middle of the night to go pee, and as you walked to the bathroom, you saw your clothes neatly folded in a pile on the couch in your room.

You didn't even notice when you started smiling. Could he be anymore perfect? You were blushing to yourself, remembering how he asked you to the beach and kissed your forehead. You were practically floating.

...

You woke up the next morning and heard some ruckus downstairs. What was he doing? You went downstairs and were met with Chan in the kitchen, cooking something that smelt delicious.

"What are you doing? I thought you couldn't cook." You said to him with your hands, akimbo.

"I never said I didn't know how to cook, I just don't know how to make pancakes. Those things are evil."

"I see. So what's cooking, Gordon Ramsey?" You asked him and sat on the kitchen island.

"I made some breakfast sandwiches, and I'm making some rice and chicken sauce for us to eat when we get back from the beach." He was so thoughtful.

"Oh, you didn't have to, but thanks." His back was turned towards you, and you just sat on the island admiring him. You were getting too used to this. He was leaving the next day.

"Can you help me taste this, please?" He said, holding a spoon with a bit of broth in it towards you. You opened your mouth, and he put the spoon into your mouth and then watched you intently to see what you thought about it. Why was he a good cook too?

"Mmmh, it's really good." You said, and he went back to what he was doing.

"I'm gonna go brush my teeth and come back downstairs, brb." You went upstairs, did just that, and by the time you got back downstairs, he had set a plate full of sandwiches for you plus a cup of coffee.

"I'm finally getting the princess treatment I deserve. As I should." You sat down to eat, and he joined you with his own plate.

"Enjoy it while it lasts." Those words hit you like a brick.

"Wow, way to kill the mood." You sounded sarcastic, but you were on the verge of tears. You didn't want him to leave. Why did he have to leave?

"I'm sorry." He said while laughing.

You guys finished up eating and went to prepare for the beach.

You didn't really plan to go to the beach so you didn't have any beach wear but luckily you had a short floral gown that could be used for the occasion.

You took a bath, did your skincare, and put on your outfit for the day. You contemplated if you wanted to pack your hair up or comb it out, and you decided to comb it out.

You went downstairs to your mini store to get a beach mat for the both of you. One of the perks of this house was that it came with a lot of equipment for the beach.

Chan met you downstairs and to your surprise he was wearing a brown shirt.

"Brown looks good on you." You said to him, and he thanked you while blushing.

"I love your hair. You look good." Was this a compliment battle or?

"Thank you, chan." You both stared at each other in silence it was kind of awkward.

"Where are your car keys? Let's get going." He said changing the subject.

"No way, I'm driving this time." You told him.

"Okay, you'll drive us there, and I'll drive us back. Deal?" He asked, trying to make peace.

"Deal." You agreed to his offer.

You put the mat into the car, and you guys got going.

The beach wasn't as full as you guys expected it to be. There were only a handful of people scattered across the sand.

You guys set up your mat far away from people and just sat down admiring the ocean. You played by the shore a bit, and you guys picked up some seashells

You talked about life and had some philosophical discussions. It was just the two of you in your little bottle. Chan suggested you guys go get coconut drinks, and you did.

While you were still speaking, chan suddenly got up and went to a group of little kids. He was talking to them for a while, and you sat down, looking in his direction, confused.

When chan was returning, he had two sand castle buckets in his hand accompanied by two little shovels. He smiled at you while he was returning, and you swear you felt a tear drop from your eye.

"Wanna build sandcastles with me?" He said, offering you a bucket and a shovel.

"Yes." You said through a big smile.

You and chan built sandcastles and adorned them with the seashells you picked along the way.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask you something." He said, not looking up while patting the sand in his bucket with the shovel.

"Sure." You said watching him fiddle with the bucket. When he heard your reply, he dropped what he was doing and looked at you. Then he began to talk.

“I really enjoy the time I spend with you and consider you an important part of my life. We’ve been friends for so long, and I feel like I know you so well. I really like you, kel. If you feel the same way, I'd like to be your boyfriend. Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

This was so unreal to you. Here you were 13 years later making sand castles at the same beach you guys were in years ago when you developed a crush on him, and now he was asking you out. You needed someone to pinch you. This wasn't real.

"Yes!" You said, getting up on your knees from the mat to embrace him in a hug. You gave him a peck on his cheek and watched him turn red.

The kids came to get their buckets, and you guys returned them. You decided to take one last walk around the shore before going back home. You guys walked the shore holding hands, and the sun began to set. Time seemed to fly by so fast when you were with him. You felt safe and secure around him. You felt happy. You loved him.

"Let's get out of here, shall we?" Chan asked, and you guys picked up the mat and left to the car. You fulfilled your promise of letting him drive you guys back home. Chan had one hand on your thigh, slowly stroking it with his thumb the entire drive. Despite the AC being on, you were hot and on the verge of melting.

You guys got home and decided to take a shower before settling down to eat because your bodies were full of sand. You got downstairs after your bath and warmed up the food chan cooked for the both of you, and you guys ate together.

Chan had to go upstairs to pack his bags. He was leaving tomorrow. You almost cried thinking about it while washing the dishes. You went up to your room to pack the trash out, and that was when you saw chan's shirt that you washed to give back to him.

You picked up the shirt and walked to his room. You let yourself in and handed it to him. He said thank you and took it from you. You didn't leave his room. You sat on his bed talking to him up until the late hours of the night.

When it was time to go to bed, you were about to leave for your room, but as soon as you touched the doorknob, you realised that you didn't want to leave. You turned back to the bed, and as if chan knew, he opened up his blanket for you to get in.

You gladly did. You lay facing him, but you were just right under his chin. You were faced with his chest. Chan wrapped his hands around you and pulled you closer to him. Your bodies were glued together.

"I love you, Kel." Chan said, and he kissed the top of your forehead.

"I don't want you to leave." You said.

"I don't want to leave you either."

...

The day had come. Chan was leaving.

You guys ate breakfast together one last time, and you drove him to the airport.

When you guys got down from the car to drop him off, you shared a kiss one last time and waved him off till he was swallowed by the crowd.

You didn't even realise that you were crying. You missed him already. The flight from Sydney to Melbourne was 8 hours long. You wouldn't be able to text him for 8 hours.

You drove back home, missing having someone else in the car with you. You decided to work to get your mind off of him, and you decided to try what chan told you to do with the designs.

Long story short. Chan was a genius. This was the best thing you had ever drawn in your life. You just needed to perfect it, and you were sure people would love it.

You went into Chan's room to remind yourself of him. The room smelled like him. You sat on the bed when you saw a white material sticking out of the blanket and when you pulled it out, it was Chan's shirt, and a note fell out of it.

The note read:

"This is my little present to you for making me the happiest man on earth for two weeks. I hope you like it. I love you."

He loved you. Chan loved you. You bawled your eyes out again for the second time today.

You slept off in the room chan occupied when he was here and when you woke up you saw that you had received a message from chan.

Chan

Hey babe. I just arrived in Melbourne. I'm on my way to where my family is staying.

You

Oh, so it's not Kel anymore?

Go on, I'm not complaining.

I'm glad you had a safe flight.

I saw your little gift...

Chan

Oh, that... did you like it?

You

I cried my eyes out. I hate you.

Chan

I'm glad to see that you liked it

I have to go now

Eat well and don't overwork yourself.

Stay healthy

You

Chan... I love you.

Chan

I love you too, Kel

...

You and Chan kept in close touch over the months to pass. You were always on the phone together.

The both of you did end up getting consumed by work a bit.

When CJ got back and you told him everything that happened he told you that you were insane and delusional. He simply did not believe you.

The next year, the company released the new collection. You called it "Summer in love." You were right. People loved it. The magazines and tabloids described it as one of the most unique collections they had seen. The company received a lot of appraisal for it.

Thank you, Chan.

The group released an album early in the year, and chan told you that one of the songs on there was written for you. It was called "Connected."

Who would have thought that this much would happen in one summer? You wished you could go back and relive those moments.

Last year's summer was the summer it came true.

THE END. (Maybe)

Continuation: Only Me and You

#stray kids #kpop #kpop tumblr #bang chan #bangchan fanfic #bangchan fluff #black kpop fans #black kpop stans #stray kids fanfic #soft hours #tooth rotting fluff #stray kids bang chan #stray kids fluff #skz bang chan #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz #skz x reader #angst #mutual pining #established relationship #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic

[venusofthehardsells]

Written in Blood [one-shot]

Avenger!witch!ReaderxBucky, avenger!witch!Readerxdemon!Bucky

Summary: When an alien army attacks the Earth, you make a last ditch effort to save the planet, even if it means losing everything you love.

(Reader’s Avenger-name is Hecate)

Warnings: all the angst, violence, blood, major character death, smut, non-con, dub-con, monsterfucking technically I guess?, fingering, p in v, Supernatural elements (yes, that Supernatural), end of the world, swearing (ofc), magic, possession, lots of bad things happen

A/N: It is STILL October in some timezones so here is this fic I wanted to finish like two years ago. Happy fucking Halloween!

Huge thank you to @awesomerextyphoon and @sagechanoafterdark for cheering me on, it means everything! ♥ 

The rancid ashen air lies heavy in your nose and makes your eyes water. It is almost enough to blur the wall in front of you, but you blink the tears away with an angry sniffle and raise your bloodied fingers to finish writing the spell.

All around you, the city is on fire.

Screams and cries ring out from the burning high-rises in between metallic sounds of fighting. Crashes, gunfire. Voices blast your ears through your com, shouting for back-up, shouting for their lives. It'll be too late for most of them by the time you can reach them.

On the edge of your vision, a flash of blue, white and red lies abandoned in the rubble of the building that fell on you less than an hour earlier. You would have been under all those bricks if it hadn't been for him...

You have to stop and let the sobs wash over you.

Steve died trying to save you because you were out of your mind with grief and didn't react to the blast fast enough. It's your fault.

His shield is all that remains.

Gritting your teeth against the pain in your leg from where the blood you're writing with is coming from, you smear the next part of the spell as clearly as you can manage onto the raw concrete of the upturned wall.

Your intent and will is worth just as much as the signs you draw, every witch worth her salt knows that, but still you make an effort to get each line as cleanly drawn as possible.

The magic you're working is a different kind than the one Strange uses. It's ancient and feral and bought with blood.

It's not something he would approve of.

When he put you in charge of this point of attack, it was because he was out of options. You know he would have prefered Loki, but none of the Asgardians could be contacted and you wonder again that day if their world too has suffered this very doom somewhere all those light years away.

Strange had left you to deal with New York while he went to Singapore and Wanda to Wakanda, where the fighting was worst.

Right now though, you can't imagine anywhere worse.

"Hecate!," Stark's voice yells on the com, using your Avenger alias. "I need a status, now! Hecate! Answer me!"

But you don't, can't let him know what you're doing.

"Y/N, god dammit, please tell me you're not dead!"

But you are. As good as, anyway.

Ignoring Stark's pleading for you to answer, you press your fingers into your wound again with a groan, but it's no use, it's not deep enough to grant you any more paint and you need to get a few more lines of formalia down.

You unsheathe the knife you have fastened to your inner thigh and kiss the blade swiftly before bringing it down on your arm. It's the last knife you have left on you and it's the sharpest. Of course it is.

It's Bucky's.

As the fresh cut starts gushing, you have to wipe away more tears.

Four hours ago, one of the alien invaders caught Bucky in the neck with its talon-like fingers and you heard him gurgle and choke over the com as he went down. Stark had managed to pluck you from the scene when you started screaming.

A few seconds later, all Bucky's life readings from his suit had hit zero.

It had been too dangerous to go back for the body.

You clench your eyes shut.

There's no winning this war.

With fingers red from your newly opened vein, you draw the last symbols of your spell.

Your summoning.

It fills the entire chunk of concrete. As soon as you're done, you wrap a scrap of your sleeve around your arm to stop the flow; you feel dizzy on your feet and you’re slightly panting, leaning on the remains of a bench. Or at least, you assume it’s a bench.

Even without the bloodloss and the heartbreak, you’ve been knocked and kicked and beaten around since long before dawn. Now, it’s nearly dusk. The only thing keeping you on your feet is the sheer desperation that has also brought you to conjure up this dark, nasty magic. The last resort.

"Parker, Romanoff, someone give me a twenty on Hecate! I think her com's broken."

Still not answering, you begin chanting. The language is old, long forgotten to the world and it fills your mouth heavy as a stone when the words form and tumble into the air; it's almost a living thing.

It's as if the summoning wants to happen.

You've always stayed clear of this particular sort of magic, as all the cleverest and most long-lived of your foremothers did, but none of them were about to lose the entire planet. In the grander scheme of things, your trespass doesn't look unreasonable.

"Mr Stark, sir, I can see Y/N. She's… it looks like she's talking to someone."

"Where are you, kid? I'm heading your way. Does she look injured?"

"I- I don't know what I'm seeing… Holy shit, that's… there's so much blood, Mr Stark. I don't know what she's- How..."

As Peter starts to realize you must be doing magic of some sort, it seems to dawn on Tony Stark as well.

"Fuck. Strange warned me she'd do something dangerous. Kid, whatever you do, you gotta stop her!"

Poor Peter. There's no way he'll get through the protective shield you cast around you so you could conjure undisturbed and neither is anyone else, at least for now.

The last line in the conjuring spell rolls off your tongue and it is as if it all goes quiet around you. The very air seems to hold its breath, waiting…

Somewhere far away, you think you hear something crash into the magical barrier surrounding you, but maybe it's just your heartbeat throbbing in your ears.

It has to work. It has to. If no one shows, if your spell didn't reach out, down, then…

Then you don't think you can bear another second in this wasteland that was once a city.

The moments crawl by and you wait. There's nothing else to do anymore, is there?

Waiting, listening, praying. But then again, if praying did any good, you wouldn't be here.

"Now this is a pleasant surprise," a voice speaks up behind you and you can feel the blood turn to ice in your veins.

That voice, it can't be.

He's dead, you saw him die.

Very slowly, as if trying to delay the inevitable, you turn around to glance at what your efforts have brought forth.

No.

It's Bucky.

Or rather, it is a demon wearing Bucky's flesh. There's more left of your super soldier than you had dared to hope for, but the way the demon moves his legs and his arms and the way it crooks his head looking at you through eyes filled with empty blackness makes it clear that the most vital part must be gone.

He, it, smiles with the mouth of the man you love and you can feel the tears rise anew in your tired eyes.

You knew it would be bad, but this…

"Get out of him," you whisper, your throat clinging thickly to the words.

The thing inside Bucky's body grins and blood trickles out through his parted lips,  fresh red against the dried black on his chin and neck.

"Don't think so, dollface. It's not every day you get a call like this. Had to make an impression."

The voice, oh god, there's something in the voice you know so well seeping through from the demon using it to speak and it makes your stomach churn. It was only yesterday that same sweet voice told you that Bucky Barnes loved you, but hearing it now is a nightmare.

The demon leans on the other end of the destroyed bench you're using to keep yourself upright, biting its lower lip.

"I have to say, I couldn't believe my luck when you called. An Avenger." It whistles, letting its black eyes roam over your dirty, bruised form. "We make deals with celebrities and politicians all the time, but you! You're supposed to be beyond reproach, all of you. Untouchable. When I heard your summoning, I had to come myself. Someone like you deserves a more… personal treatment."

It reaches out and lets Bucky's fingers brush your cheek in a loving gesture that almost makes you gag.

In a brief moment, you manage to see past the face of your dead lover and look upon the being’s true face. It’s not just an ordinary demon. It’s the face of the Devil.

"You're quite the legend downstairs, you know," he says softly, stroking the tears and grime from under your eye with a dark metal thumb. "A lineage blood witch so powerful, working with SHIELD's leashed heroes to save the world… Failing, obviously." The smirk on his face is so wide and so vile you can't imagine Bucky ever producing that expression himself. "We're still baffled they didn't kill you as soon as they found you. Of course, you have played your big, brilliant savior-role splendidly. I almost shed a tear when you took that bullet for Lang's daughter. Oscar-worthy, truly."

"You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you?," you grit out. It's a struggle not to recoil from its touch.

The smirk grows impossibly wider.

"Can you blame me, sweetheart? I haven't worn a human in centuries. I'd almost forgotten how it feels."

He rolls Bucky's shoulders the way one might do trying on a new jacket.

"And this one is interesting. Technology these days." He chuckles, inspecting the metal arm and, mercifully, removing its fingers from you to have a closer look at them. "It's marvelous. Makes up for how dark it is in this grapefruit of his. This one doesn't need to go to Hell, he's practically there already. I feel right at home."

He chuckles, but it's like watching a wax figure coming to life and trying to act like the person whose image it was sculpted in. You have never seen or felt anything remotely as uncanny before.

You need to send the Devil back to Hell right now while he still hasn't hurt anyone.

"If you won't get out, I'll force you."

"Oh, please." The way the Devil smiles is overbearing. "Right now, I'm the only thing keeping lover boy ticking. Without me, he's just a dead meatsuit."

It feels like your lungs have been vacuumed.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"It can't be."

"Is too. Your precious Bucky is still in here. Not being very generous about sharing this body, I might add. The ungrateful bastard is screaming himself hoarse trying to get me to leave-"

"No!"

His smirk grows into another grin at your outburst and you both know he's got you exactly where he wants you.

"Thought not. As delightful as this back and forth threatening is, how about we cut to the chase? You don't exorcize me, I don't let your boyfriend bleed out. Instead, why don't you tell me what it is you want, hmm?"

The way your stomach rolls with pain has nothing to do with the hits you've taken in the fight so far.

"I want to make a deal." Your voice is only just audible over the wind, but Bucky's face lights up with malicious barely contained glee; he heard you loud and clear.

"Go on," he prompts, licking his lips.

"I…" The air in your shriveled lungs fails you, so you try again. "I want Bucky and Steve back, I want all of them back, I… want all of this to never happen."

And you are willing to do anything for it apparently.

But for the first time, he shakes his head.

"Oh, honey. Now why would I do that?"

"What?," you breathe, disbelief written all over your face.

"Think about it. How many people have died in the last twenty four hours alone? Business is flourishing. The souls are teeming into Hell and at this rate it won't stop any time soon. It's better than the damn Apocalypse! I don't wanna undo all of this."

Every instinct you have is screaming at you to send him back to Hell, but it is as though all the fight has gone out of you at the refusal. You were ready to offer anything in return, had prepared for it and now the damn thing won’t deal?

It’s the end of the world and you’re out of moves.

The end of the world…

The Apocalypse…

The thought strikes you so hard and so fast you almost think it’s a bullet.

“This isn’t the endgame you want,” you hear yourself say with far more conviction than you feel.

The Devil cocks his head, amusement trembling on his lips.

“Really?”

“People are dying-”

“Do you really think I care-”

“People are dying,” you maintain firmly, “and their souls go up or they go down, until they don’t. This isn’t an invasion, it’s an extermination.”. Bucky’s black eyes are burning into you, but you continue. “These invaders don’t plan on leaving anyone alive. It might take weeks or months even, but at some point, they’ll have killed every human on the planet and there’ll be no more souls for you to harvest. Ever. Your Apocalypse won’t even be able to happen because there’ll be nothing left for any of you to fight for. You’ll be rotting in the pit for eternity. How’s that for business, honey?”

Bucky’s features scrunch into a snarl and he janks you to him by your jaw. His fingers dig into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“I should snap Barnes’ beautiful little neck for good, you insolent-”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m right.”

“You’re too clever for your own good, sugar,” he hisses, holding you close enough to feel his breath on your face. “But you’re forgetting something. I’m not the only one up here dealing right now.”

Fuck.

Shit.

“Twenty six of my employees are up here as we speak, looking to close deals themselves. They are only waiting for me to give them the green light and those twenty-six other desperate humans, well, let’s just say… they’re not all as clever as you.”

He clenches your jaw again and you wince in pain.

If someone makes a demon deal on this scale, you can’t even begin to think of the consequences it will have if they don’t fully understand what they’re doing. And best case scenario still includes someone innocent signing over their soul.

“Fine. Get your minions in line and we’ll deal.”

“Atta girl.” Bucky’s metal arm goes around your shoulders and forces you to sit down on the charred remains of the bench seat. The close proximity, the way your body is now pressed against his makes you feel sick. “So, what do you think we can do for each other?”

"I want the world back the way it was before-"

"Yes, before the alien horde attacked it. You've said that already. Don't bore me, sweet cheeks," he warns and a shiver creeps through you. "How do you even know I have that kind of power, hm?"

"Don't you?"

“Depends on what I’m being offered,” he drawls and your skin runs cold. “I believe you know how this usually goes. One wish for one soul, collected ten years down the road. If that’s what you’re hoping for, I might as well leave it to my employees and call it a day.”

He trails Bucky’s vibranium fingers down the back of your neck, making goosebumps rise in their wake and you close your eyes as hard as you can to focus on thinking, not vomiting.

“You can have me.” The scene of the building falling on Steve keeps replaying itself in your mind’s eye over and over in a vicious loop, prompting you to force out the words. “My soul isn’t just any other soul. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Arrogant. But correct.”

“And I don’t need ten years, just one.” The knot in your stomach feels as though it has moved up into your throat and it hurts to speak around it.

“Why should I give you as much as a day? You’re not exactly asking for pennies, sugar. The magic you want from me is off the charts. You should consider yourself lucky I don’t deep-fry you for even suggesting it.”

He enjoys every word he speaks out of Bucky’s mouth the way one might a sip of Champagne. But you have to endure his teasing, otherwise… there is no otherwise.

Clenching your fists, you turn and meet his blacked out eyes.

“I’m the only Avenger you’ll ever get and you know it. Every one of them is ready to repent and I have it on good authority they’re quite large upstairs with whom they accept these days. The Asguardians have their own deal. Wanda Maximoff is probably going to outlive you. Strange too. And if you had Steve…” The firmness in your voice wobbles and your eyes grow hot with tears. “If you had Steve you would be rubbing it in my face,” you finish in a quieter tone. Bucky cocks his head with a smirk.

“Yes, I most certainly would.”

“So I’m all there is,” you maintain stubbornly, forcing yourself not to cry outright. "My soul and any future soul headed your way. A new possible eternity to gear up for your pissing contest with the halo crew. All I ask in return is a year. This year, the one we've just had."

"Interesting." He studies your face with a mix of triumph and amused apprehension. He's close. So close in fact that you can feel his breath on your lips and smell the dried blood in his mouth. "You do realize that proper wording is everything?"

"I do." You have to swallow hard not to gag or cry or maybe outright scream. This is the only play you have. If he doesn't agree, no one else is going to save you, save everyone. "My soul for a one year reset. Do we have a deal?"

He licks his lips slowly in thought, blacked out eyes never leaving yours.

“Not so fast, cherry pie. Your soul for another year still leads to this place, this moment. Earth overrun by an alien army and no more business for little old me. If you’re just trying to trick me into giving you more naked tumbling time with your soldier boys-”

“I am trying to save the world! And you’re how I’m going to do it, so unless one of those twenty-six other random idiots miraculously have a better offer for you, I suggest you take it.”

When you finally realize you’re shouting at the Devil, it’s too late. The familiar metal fingers are around your throat before you can even think to say you’re sorry and they’re squeezing so hard you’re sure you’ve used up his patience. It’s not like he’s known for it.

“You witches always were a bunch of condescending whores,” he hisses. It’s so quiet you can only hear him because his teeth are practically scraping your cheeks with the words. “I’ll take your sorry little deal, baby. And I’ll make sure your dear Jamie gets to watch and feel every single second of it. Give him a little taste of what’s waiting for you when it’s all over. A dreamy dose of nightmare fuel to top off the horror show in this melon.”

With the hand that’s still flesh and bone, he tears at your fitted tactical suit, easily ripping it open and exposing you to his gaze. Shame burns in your cheeks. You knew it would go this way, but for it to have to be Bucky…

He starts to peel off pieces of your torn suit until you’re bared in front of him. You’ve done rituals and sex spells before, shedding clothes is nothing new. But having them ripped from your body by the Devil wearing your lover with one hand while he chokes you with the other makes you feel naked in an entirely different way.

Normally when Bucky rips your clothes off, it makes you feel desired and sexy and powerful. This is… so far from that. It's cold and it's ugly. It makes you want to push him away with everything in your arsenal, your muscles, your magic, shit, you're ready to claw his face bloody with your fingernails, but you don't.

You just stay where you are and let him throw you to the ground, asphalt and tiles beneath the debris biting into the skin and bruises on your back.

Trying not to cry, because if you start there is no way you can stop.

The body lowering itself onto yours is at the same time familiar and foreign to you. As he starts to undo his belt and zipper of the tactical suit, you allow yourself for just a moment to imagine that it is Bucky, your Bucky. And that everything will be fine again.

But then his mismatched hands glide over your hips, squeezing far harder than Bucky ever would, and there is no way you can keep imagining it's really him, no way you want to.

Bucky didn't consent to this. 

Because of what you've done, he is once again a prisoner in his own mind and even though he won't remember this, despite what the Devil said to rattle you, that is no excuse. He is being used all over again for something that Bucky himself would never allow. To make a deal with the Devil, to conjure dark magic… to hurt you. It has got to be his worst nightmare made real, all over again.

All because you were careless and desperate.

I'm sorry, my love, you think, closing your eyes.

This was meant to be your sacrifice and yours alone.

Bucky's body feels a thousand times heavier upon your own than it usually is, but you know it has to be that way, otherwise the last shred of your conscience would crumble completely. This has to hurt you too.

His warm hand slips in between your legs and his smirk is right above your face, dripping hot blood into your eyes.

"Think you can give me a little something to work with, honey?," he grins and drags his fingers through your folds, making you squirm to get away before you can stop yourself. "You know we both gotta commit here."

You grit your teeth and force yourself to lie still. The fingers you know so well start to circle your clit, but it takes forever before you feel anything but discomfort - little threads of warmth, only the beginnings of something pleasurable - and at that point, your little nub is too sore from the pressure for it to do much.

"Tough customer, huh," he smirks, clearly enjoying your helplessness. "Don't worry, I'll get you there, sweetheart. I've got everything I need in here, inside Barnes' pretty head…"

That may be so, but you can feel the difference because this isn't Bucky, not really. He kisses you roughly on the mouth. It's a struggle not to gag, but accept his tongue and let him explore. He tastes of dirt and blood and magic. He takes his time.

His fingers begin working between your legs again, slower this time, in a motion that forces a surprised little gasp out of you. He slides one thick finger in between your lips, barely dipping into you at first, just stroking your folds languidly and occasionally massaging your clit again with much gentler motions than first.

The way Bucky would do it.

The first time your legs tremble around his hand, he smirks and moves his kisses to the side of your neck.

“Knew you’d warm up to me, sugar,” he grins, licking up the underside of your jaw. “Just imagine it’s really me… doll.”

You can't help it, you let out a tiny whimper against his ear and it's not all pain anymore. You know better than this, but fuck, he's using that voice, the deep, gravelly one that goes straight to your core so much faster and more effective than his fingers.

And even though it’s wrong, you’ve made your choice. You made it the second you started writing the summoning spell.

So in the end, you lean your head back on the ground and close your eyes, let him work you over until you can’t hold back the moans any longer. They spill out of you as Bucky’s fingers rub your clit in faster and faster circles, his other hand holding you down because your hips are shaking and bucking away from the onslaught of pleasure his touch evokes, more and more, there is no way your body can take it…

The pleasure peaks and sparks through your veins. It feels awful. It feels delicious.

All your aching muscles pulse with the orgasm and he doesn’t stop to let you come down, no, instead he plunges two fingers into you and continues to rub your clit with his thumb while he searches for the spot inside of you that immediately makes you cry out when he touches it. 

“There we go, doll, you can give me one more.”

Smirking, even with your eyes closed you know he has to be smirking at the way your body reacts to him.

And you do give him one more. His fingers stroke and rub your sweet spot expertly while the rough pad of his thumb keeps pressure on your clit just the way Bucky always does when he wants to keep you strung high on pleasure and it works. Another orgasm crashes into the ebb of the former and makes you wail into his long, dirty hair. He keeps you locked in place even when you jolt in his hold, thrashing almost because it's too much, it feels too good, you're burning up from all the places his hand is touching you.

You whimper as he withdraws his fingers, soaked in your glistening wetness but he doesn't leave you wanting for very long.

He starts unbuckling his tactical belt and it falls to the ground with a clank. His pants follow shortly and you’re still shaking, still too overwhelmed in the afterglow of your sweet Bucky’s fingers as he takes out his cock and slides it through your slick folds with a grin on those bloodied lips.

“Deal’s on, baby,” he whispers and the sting of his teeth drawing blood from your earlobe disappears when he buries his cock within your walls in one, smooth thrust.

Your eyes roll back into your head and inside your fitted combat boots you curl your toes at the feeling. Your mouth falls open in a gasp of pitiful ecstasy.

Somewhere in the haze of pain and adrenaline and grief and serotonin and the primal fear of dying, your mind still knows this is wrong and that you should be utterly revolted by what the two of you are doing with Bucky’s body, but you just can’t.

The warmth of your lover’s familiar form is a balm on your heart that you don’t deserve, but you welcome it anyway. The salty taste of your tears of pleasure overshadows the bitter tang of blood. He groans in your ear.

Every thrust of his hips feel like home.

You almost cry out his name, it feels so good, but you bite down the instinct at the last second. Instead you close your eyes and try to lose yourself in the wild rhythm of your joined bodies that has you clinging onto him for dear life. The pace is brutal. You never expected otherwise.

And soon enough, the heat is blazing up in you again, making you groan, making you squeeze down on him.

“Oh God, fuck… fuck…,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulders and Bucky’s laugh that you know so well washes over you.

“God doesn’t care, dollface,” he grins, leaning back just enough to get the metal hand in between you and rub his thumb on your clit, “just be glad that I do.”

He moves his hips faster, pinning you down by the hips with the hand not between your legs and this time you do scream.

As your body finally succumbs to the pleasure, you throw your head back and wail into the darkness around you. It reverberates through both of you, through the ground and your shield and the slab of stone covered in your bloody summons. You writhe and thrash in his grip under the wave of the orgasm crashing through you, wanting it to be over, wanting it to go on forever.

And with a sound somewhere between a broken moan and a winded, manic laugh, the demon on top of you at last spills his cum inside of you to seal the magical contract.

He doesn’t stop moving until your cunt has milked every drop from him, your soft silken walls pulsing with the climax long after he’s done.

You want to lie there and bask in the afterglow until your shielding spell fails, pretending just a while longer that you’re lying in Bucky’s loving arms while you wait for the inevitable end of everything.

Every little piece of you wants it.

The tears that roll down your grimy cheeks now are cold.

The ground is getting harder under your stiff back and you can feel the chill quickly settling in your bones.

“Well, that was certainly worth my time.” You grit your teeth against the sight of Bucky’s blacked out eyes so close to yours and steel yourself as much as you can.

He softly strokes your cheek and makes a show of pulling out of you slowly, kissing you sweetly on your stubbornly shut lips the way the real Bucky would have done.

It’s a struggle not to wince but somehow you manage to lie there and let his antics wash over you without blinking. As soon as he steps away from you though, you’re off the ground and covering yourself up the best you can with what’s left of your torn tactical suit.

He zips himself back into the confines of his pants completely unhurried.

“So…” He stretches both arms leisurely above his head, looking you over. It would make your skin crawl if you had the time to really think about it but you don’t let yourself think at all. There’s no room for anything but what you’re about to do.

“So what?,” you shoot back mirthlessly. “We have a deal. Now deliver.”

“Your bedside manners are terrible, did loverboy here ever tell you that?”

The inside of your cheek breaks between your teeth as you hold back a furious retort.

“Don’t worry sugarplum, I am going to work my magic and make all of this nastiness go away.” He twirls on the spot, savoring the wreckage of New York around him. “But I am still curious. What are you going to do with your year, hm?”

It’s still difficult to look at him and not see Bucky. Your heart aches in your chest like a wound when the thought strikes you that this is the last time you’re going to see him and it isn’t even really him. Just the devil wearing his body. A body you just helped defile.

But you still manage to meet his eyes.

“I’m going to cast a spell. Turn those aliens into fucking dust before they even set eyes on this planet.”

You can feel the world slowly starting to change around you as you speak. It’s like a wet painting left outside in the rain, colors dripping down the canvas until the motive is all blurry shapes and splotches of acrylics.

Time is crawling backwards outside of your protective circle.

Bucky’s mouth twitches.

“You are very powerful, no doubt about that. But one spell against an army? You’re not exactly The Scarlet Witch, babycakes. Did a roll in the hay with little old me incite such illusions of grandeur in that lovely little head of yours?”

“Nimue’s Hand,” you bite and in less than a second Bucky’s features shift into a mask of rage. It’s almost satisfying when his fingers close around your throat and squeeze.

“You fucking whore!”, he yells into your face, slamming you against the concrete wall still bloodied from your summoning spell. “You filthy, cheating little… witch.”

And despite the fact that you can hardly breathe, that your vision is going fuzzy at the edges and a fresh pain is swelling in the back of your head, you grin at him.

“That’s right. You know that spell, don’t you?”

You don’t have to ask. Of course he knows.

Nimue’s Hand is an ancient spell of pure annihilation. No one has ever cast it before, otherwise… the world would know it. It has been passed down through the generations of witches as far back as the line has existed, whispered from mother to daughter for hundreds of years, probably even longer.

It is a morsel of forbidden knowledge that despite everything has managed to stay a secret lurking in the very depths of every witch’s consciousness, never spoken aloud, never used.

Until now.

The spell is so powerful that casting it will rip your very soul to shreds and scatter them among the stars. You are never going to find rest but it’s a cost you’re willing to pay.

A last resort.

Bucky roars and lets go of you, punching the wall next to your head so hard the whole thing disintegrates. But that is all he can do.

You have a deal.

He never said an intact soul. And af all, proper wording is everything.

It’s your turn to laugh. Wheezing and coughing, you can’t help it. At this point, it is all you really have to laugh about.

The world is coming into view around you again. You’re no longer wearing the tactical gear from the battle but instead the dress you were wearing a year ago is materializing on your skin. Bucky’s wounds are healing, the blood is disappearing and his suit is changing into running shorts and a white T-shirt. Together with his black eyes and the way he snarls and yells in fury, it looks almost comical.

You can’t dwell on it though.

You’re on a clock now.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” you manage to get out as you brush the concrete dust off your arms. “I’ll see you in a year.”

He grips your upper arm so tightly you know it’s going to bruise but you can’t care about that now. Slowly he leans in and traces a finger down the side of your face with the flesh hand, pure and utter hatred seeping from his every pore.

“Oh, I’ll see you, Y/N. I’m going to stick every last piece of that splintered soul I’m owed back together, no matter how long it takes and when I do… well…”

His nail cuts into the skin on your jaw, making you wince despite yourself.

“I’m not going to be as sweet as Jamie here.”

You try not to shudder as he lets go of you and turns to leave. You allow yourself to see him walk away and the exact moment the devil leaves Bucky’s body is obvious.

He stops in the middle of what is no longer a burned out crater, but instead an almost empty street in the early afternoon, and looks around a bit disoriented. 

Fresh tears prickle at your eyes and you can feel your heart nearly coming to a stop in your chest.

This is the day you first met. In a few moments he is going to turn around and see you, ask you for directions because he got lost in his own head for a bit and must have turned down the wrong street. His slightly embarrassed little smile as he said it…

The second before he spots you, you turn around and walk away, leaving him behind.

Fists clenched, vision blurred.

Angrily, you wipe at your eyes, ignoring how easy it would be to turn back and still bump into him, to get that wonderful year with him and Steve again.

You can’t think like that.

It takes a lot of effort to prepare your soul for the casting of your spell and after all, you did make a deal. You need to focus.

Your time is already running out.

#bucky barnes x reader #demon!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction

[bleachedjuice]

'Adrenaline high' pt6.

I hope everyone day is ending on a good note or starting on one,and if not then i hope that this newest chapter makes your day :) Enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of blood, cursing,and a little light NSFW(Eat up ya filthy animals 😌)

A stuttered groan erupted from your chest as it rumbled from a raspy breath escaping it. Shuffling your body slightly you felt aware of the sun peaking through your window and into your eye..bitterly you grumbled and held onto the warmth encasing your body dearly...taking it in one last time before you forced yourself to sit up... and you felt every bit of yesterday hit you like a brick. Your body ached..and cried slightly from the sudden movment after being still for so long. Huffing you ran your hand through your hair and wound up swinging your legs over the bed and gently letting them take the weight of your body as they padded onto the ground. Shuffling toward the bathroom you saw movement from the living room quarters of the base and then casted a blind eye towards it. All the while,you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched,until the door of the bathroom was shut. And you where alone. Staring into the mirror you saw that the small knick on your face. It was a straight jagged line cutting through your left eye brow and just a bit before your eye lid. It looked to be scabbed up and already in the healing process. Ignoring the promise you made to Ghost last night about stopping at med bay you just dabbed it with a wet Part of a towel before you went to brushing your teeth aggressively and then applying deodorant and washing your face in silence. Once the cold water hit your face,you felt your body jolt fully awake with a startled jump at the temperature of the water. Blinking through the droplets you stared yourself in the mirror again and fixed up your hair and then padded your face dry and headed out of the bathroom back toward your room. Peeking out into the hallway between your destination of safety and where you were at now seemed pretty empty. Quickly scampering to your room you shut the door and hummed. Taking in the fact that you now where now alone and able to get dressed for the day. Digging into your now..clean clothes..staring at the pile on your bed you just began to dig through your brows furrowed with confusion..these where not just here moments ago..so who?... shoving the thoughts away you shrugged to yourself. Not minding free clean laundry as you then shrugged off the pants you had on and roughly pulled on a pair of black camo military cargo pants and your good old thin elastic belt before flopping onto your bed and yanking your shirt off..shivering at the cold air that welcomed you..shaking slightly from a sputtered shiver you then yanked on a white under shirt. Tucking the tight and thin fabric under your pants belt line you then found a thick green jogger sweatshirt and threw it on..before grabbing a pair of good old white socks and yanking them on and then lacing your boots and heading out your door. Shutting it behind you as you then checked your watch..huh...10 am..not bad.

Hearing a loud laugh coming from the living space you then pattered you way into the room and found soap and Alejandro talking in the corner of the room on the couches and then Price and Ghost talking In the near corner. Ignoring the hulking figure whose gaze you swore glanced a baring glare at you as you made your way toward The dynamic dou,Alejandro and Soap.

Plopping next to Soap you listened to them suddenly abide their attention to you,Including you into whatever shanigans they where about to get themselves into.

Piping at Alejnadros now baring smile as he spoke...and that was never a good thing.

"Ah, Good timing Y/n, I just was about to see if Soap would take a round two with you in his own field eh? You would like that Soap, no?"

You then looked at Soap, A smirk now peeping onto your face as he stared at Alejandro with a gruesome glare as he then spoke toward you,nodding almost grimacingly at the mention of him utterly losing to you in the facts of speed.

"I would.. given the fact that your a quick fucker. But, where I lack in speed. I gather in Strength. "

"Oh,you bet your ass you are so on." And as almost as soon as those words left your mouth the three of you where basically scrambling over eachother to get off the couch,you the grabbed soaps shoulder and then grabbed the back of the couch and tosses yourself over it causing you top flop onto the floor with a light thump as you then scrambled to your feet,slipping onto the carpet in front of the door leading out and almost falling through the door you now fumbled to open.

Which caused Alejandro to let out a barking laugh as him and Soap Scampered after you as you finally got the door open..leaving a very confused Price..and a very intrigued Ghost... and there they stood,watching from the kitchen window to the main front yard to see just what you three where up to now..

Once you three finally stopped slipping on the mud and leaves of the now soaked ground from the mornings cold frost you caught your breaths before Alejandro stepped a couple feet away and basically announced the "rules" of this bet you and Soap had just waged on.

"Rules are simple, first one to get the other pinned longer than 10 seconds wins. You each take ten strides away from eachother.. and face your backs from eachother until I say go"

"Seriously Alejandro.. a cowboy stand off. Sheesh"

"Shut up Soap and focus on not getting your ass handed to you again.."

And with that bitter comment from Alejandro it seemed to shut Soap up and he focused on you. And as you two stood mere inches from eachother you rolled your shoulders. Preparing yourself for more than just a sore body after this.

As Alejandro instructed you faced your backs toward eachother and walked as he counted your strides...

"One..."

Your strides dug themselves into the ground as you walked.

"Two..."

You could hear the aggressive breaths of Soap as he prepped himself to most definitely give It his all..

"Three..."

Or just blindly rage this spar.

"Four.."

Your mind went blank as you walked..

"Five.."

The cold around you did not seem to be present at the late notice..

"Six.."

Nor did the morning soreness or grogginess you had just felt moments before.

"Seven"

This was it. You could just hear it in Soaps steps that he was evidently pissed at Alejandros comment at Soap losing to you in the bet of Speed..

"Eight"

You walked. Your face blank,your mind blank,but your heart utterly raced at the adrenaline starting to stutter at the rate your heart was going..

"Nine"

Little did you know it,but you had a set of glaring blue eyes on your figure as it marched to Alejandros shouts of the number for the strides.

"Ten,Hold."

And there you stood,body tensed like a race horse waiting for go ahead of the gates flying open..the anticipation now in the seemingly forever lasting moments was killing you..

And you stood..

"Go."

And with that you had turned swiftly to face Soaps still turning figure and in a moment he was now charging at you,side stepping out of his barreling figure he swiped a jab at you,which caused you to take on the defensive as you motioned out of his way.. which seemed to just piss him off more..

Swinging and deflecting a few more swings you felt your barricade of defense that where you arms go to the weave back just for him to grab onto the green sweatshirt and pull and with a singular motion he knocked his knee up in to your gut,sending a gasp into your lungs as you then held back as grunt..and then you felt him go to shift your whole weight to the ground by using your sweater as a rope almost..

Stepping back and digging your heel you slipped out of the sweater and with a harsh push with you right shoulder into his lungs you felt the air leaves his lungs as he staggered back,giving you time to step a few steps from him as you took on the defensive again,and just like that he was onto you again, and with a singular motion you dodged a few strikes and took a good two hits to you left shoulder you felt the ache of the Still healing muscle..twinning a wince at it as you then shot to his left only for the blow you slunk at his abdomen seem to just make him angrier as his nostrils flared at you before he had just bum rushed you to the ground,sending your head to bounce off of the graveled dirt beneath you and the world seemed in slow motion.. and before you knew it,the world had snapped back to speed just as fast as it slowed.

Gasping as you twisted out of his toppling figure as it landed on the ground a few inches from you as you scrambled to your feet only for his arms to find themselves coiled around you,locking your muscles and digging your heels into the mud you felt your air pipe block itself as your one arm was pinned and the other trapped with your head and neck in his grip..

And with a growl he hissed in your ear as You heard Alejandro give out some hooted comment..

"Give. Up."

And as you felt your body slacken slightly from the air blockage you felt your nostrils flare as your teeth bared themselves as you gritted them harshly..scrunching your face up you did so..

And then you felt your body fuel with the last amount of adrenaline it had left in its system for the moment and with a harsh yell you threw all your weight forward and did a front flip..taking Soaps startled Body with you..

Slamming him under you as your rolled with him you could just feel the air leave his body as soon as he had hit the ground..and you rolled off of him and and within a moment you had twisted from a laying position to an up and slammed your weight limply onto his now fetal positioned frame as he gasped for air on his hands and knees and on his stomach he went..

And within a flick of a moment you had pinned his arms behind him in your grip...

And you waited...

And waited...

"And we have a winner! Let the poor man up, Hound before you kill him"

A laugh left Aljendro as he spoke...and possibly he was laughing at Soa..or perhaps at you as you both strangled up to your feet huffing and puffing with dirt and mud smearing yous..your green sweater now doubt was going to need be cleaned again...and your white shirt now patched with mud and sticking with dew water and sweat from you both.

"Good try eh?"

"You owe me a drink Hound"

"Apology is given,deal"

And then Alejandro spoke..

"Now,I wonder who would give a go at you now eh Hound?"

"Me"

A harsh British voice spoke out..and you felt your heart sink as you looked up and saw Ghost and Price standing there..they had watched the whole thing...

Fuck..

You then looked at Alejandro who gave out a sorry look and then a shurg.

And then you could just feel Soap give you a sorry look..

Shit.

"OK! Chicos, this time you don't have to stride 10 steps. Just wait till my go."

You nodded before grudgingly looking up at Ghost who utterly stood over you it seemed..towering almost...

And he stared..almost pissed..no..his was pissed..

Fuck..out of everyone here it JUST had to be HIM..

"Enough with the small talk Alejandro. I want to see here what Hound..can really do." The venom seeping into his voice just made the skin on your back twitch slightly as cold sweat stammered your body. You've faced people bigger than Ghost.. possibly stronger. But you've seen what someone his size can do when they where as pissed as he seemed now..

And it seemed as though the venom in his voice wafted into the rest of the group itself as well... but they seemed unmoved..it would make sense given the fact that they had been around eachother most definitely longer than you had.. but the way it smogged itself into your body..the realization of what was about to happen made your legs shake slightly.. feeling like they'd buckle underneath the tactics of Ghosts Stare..his Ocean stared into yours..you saw obvious storms..but then you swore you caught a glimpse of your reflection in them..and then saw a twinge of softening..before they immediately hardened as he stepped back and took position..

And you set into yours. Your legs shaking slightly from the exhaust of the fight before...but then the rush of adrenaline pounding in your ears swept you into a bewildered state of panicked energy.

You had ni clue how'd you get someone like him back into his posture. As of right now he looked like a fucking brick wall..

Well..here goes nothing...

It didn't help with the fact that as soon as you had swept yourself into position your inner monologue was seeping itself into a million thoughts a second..

The same feeling you had gotten when about to face off Soap both times erupted again..

But this time instead of..well.. Soap.. it was like you where up against fucking Satan himself.

Simon was never the one to Crack or spark emotioned during a fight let alone over a sparring match.

But he couldn't help it with Watching you try to look threatening to him of all people.

Yeah,sure the way you looked at how you haven't slept in days added to your intimidation look. But the way your legs trembled slightly made him coo mentally at you...as it made you look...vulnerable..

He eyed your figure as it stood still.. and he peeked past your head at Alejandros... before focusing back onto you...

Just because he seemed to be..making himself closer to you..

Doesn't mean he's going to cut you any slack.

"Go!"

And just like that you had watched him bounce into motion.

Your face crinkled into a fighting motion as you ducked beneath a cocked blow and went to swing one of your own only for Ghost to dodge it like he was fucking Bruce Lee.. and within the period of ducking and Weaving..and then with one swipe of a blow you felt it graze off his masked nose before you cut your left heel backwards and then with a harsh momentum filled kick you felt a slight pride swell inside..

Yes your first blow! Finally!...

All for that to come to screeching halt and come crashing down as you felt your face scrunch up as exhaustion hit and your teeth bare primal like as you saw Simon fucking Riley holding your leg up into the air... the menacing glare he gave you sent cold shivers down your spine as the sweat that trickled down your neck Hairs rose like hackles..

"You can do better than that"

A sneer left Ghost,almost like taunt toward your predicament... with this sight of you.. panting,star struck almost... why he wouldn't mind a Shot of Bourbon right now.

You then came to the realization that he wasn't planning on letting go of your ankle anytime soon... foot..toes..leg.

Sending a Glance to your leg then to the murmuring group as they watched the silence cut through your fight..

It seemed you now had no other choice but to just let your plan fall into motion..

Literally...

You let your standing let now fall from beneath you,sending you into a short and quick free fall..using that momentum you used your flat palms,your fingers pointed inward.. to push yourself up...

The leg Ghost still had gripped twisted in an odd and way and felt a slight throb..

A small price..for a large outcome.

You propelled your loose leg up at Ghost. The leg straight and stiffened as it made contact to his face... and your other leg fell free..

It did its intended purpose...and then some..

Sending you to the ground with a hard thump as he staggered back gripping his nose..

"You got shit kicked in eh amigo?"

Alejandros teasing words danced in the silence as a staggered noise came from Soap and Price just seemed shocked as Ghost lowered his hand from his masked nose.

Red.

When Simon lowered his hand as he couldn't even belive the sight of what he saw..

Glancing at your now staggering to a stance figure he glowered a glare..

He could just feel the copper dancing on his tongue and lips as it dribbled onto the fabric of the mask..he didn't know if to be impressed..or utterly pissed...

But he felt alive...

Sending a snarl through his mouth as he spoke made your pupils dilate and your heart utterly sink at his next words....

"I'm not through with you yet Y/N"

The goosebumps that trickled onto your skin didn't do much to help with the exhaust you felt now as you prepared to give it your all at this beating you felt you had coming. You where sure you broke that fuckers nose.. just by the red that seemed through that mask of his...

And suddenly..

Everything unfolded..

Within a flash you where barely dodging Oncoming Swings at you,your ankle groaning under the pressure you where under as you now where primarily on the defensive. Knowing that if he knocked you once...just once..you where done for..

Some grazed your face,but holy hell did they feel like metal had just full on smacked you and left dents in your bones.. every swing or jab your way felt...invincible...

The velocity of everything that was going on way too much for your ankle to bear...and with one last twisting dodge you felt your breathe hitch....

You tripped.

Hearing the gasp for air that left your lungs sent you sprawling utterly to the ground harshly...

The center of your balance was now nothing as you went down but your legs flicked up and caught Ghost on accident..

Simon was too caught up into what he was doing and swinging and what he was feeling that he didn't even realize that his legs where knocked out from under him by yours as he went down after you...

And falling he did..

Direct ontop of your body..

"GAH!"

"Oof"

The area around yous went silent..not even a peep from the three that where watching as the thud that emitted from you two hitting the ground sounded like it hurt..

And then just as fast as your breath had left it it had returned in gasps only to be hitched again by the sight of Ghosts Eyes..

His glare meeting yours intensely as you both panted for air aggressively and sweat soaked both your bodies..

Simon could just feel your panting against his body..and he could utterly feel his zipper tighten at the sight of you being so ..vulnerable beneath him...the way your body cut the center of his lower half..made his shudder slightly in a sick ecstacy...

"Uhh...ghost. "

And just like that he had snapped out of it aware of who was watching.

Letting out a frustrated growl he almost snapped off your body and with that He was storming away and gone..

Leaving you utterly confused in more ways then one after feeling a certain something press up against you during that short moment.

What the hell just happened?

You watched as Soap waddled awkwardly toward your discarded sweater and picked it up as Price strode back into the house after Ghost. Probably to see the damage from your utterly kicking his shit in..

And then Soap helped you to your feet as Alejnadro and him joked about the fight ..but they went mute into your ears as your stuttered steps in front of them sheepishly into the base.. and with a slight muted mumble of telling the dou that you where ok and a couple of grumbling sentences of coaxing them to let you scrub yourself clean in the the locker room showers given the gave that the bathroom was now being occupied whoever.. and listened as they both agreed on washing your now dirty clothes for you...starting with your poor sweater..

And then you limped in silence toward your room and rushed the door open before nimbly grabbing a different pair of cargo pants..green this time and a black under shirt.. your socks of all things clean and untouched.. but you grabbed a new pair of those and boxers as you made your way to the showers...trying to wrap your head around what the utterly fucking hell just occurred outside...

#ghost mw2 #ghost x male reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #modern warefare 2

[fastlikealambo]

link to chapter one.

Fall of 94′: Eddie Munson x Black Reader Chapter 2

summary:

it’s been nearly 8 years since the events of hawkins and out of the entire party, the only one to stay behind is the one and only eddie munson. with a five year old daughter in tow, his life is a simple one, still trying to escape the dark cloud over him that never went away.

but when all too familiar hellish events start happening again eddie must team up with his daughter’s favorite and mysterious new teacher to protect his little girl and the town he owes nothing to.

warnings: violence, gore,  religious trauma, soft dom! eddie,  praise kink, smut to end all smut,  hawkins indiana is a warning to me. minors dni

two chapters in one day who is she

“ If you let Daddy clean your cuts, you can have one brownie after dinner.”

“Two brownies and a cookie.”

“How about one brownie and a cookie but Daddy gets half the cookie?”

They had been at this for an hour but at last his mischievous daughter had finally claimed victory, distracted by cartoons as he painlessly lifted the band-aids up. It had only been a few hours, they didn’t need to be changed but he couldn’t help but worry, catching a glimpse of his own scars that still managed to peek out over the copious amount of ink he got to cover them.

Even years later, he still dreamed of drowning in his own blood, a small fraction of the horrors he went through all those years ago.

A sigh of relief went through him as Rosie’s cuts were minor and not dripping with radioactive ooze so with a kiss on the top of her head, Eddie went to start on dinner while Rosie, no longer entertained by cartoons, recounting the events of the day.

“The birds were so big and scary but Miss wasn’t scared so I wasn’t scared.”

“I bet you she was really brave, just like you princess. You wanna help set the table?”  Eddie asked his grinning daughter who happily began to pull cups and plates from the cupboard.

As he cooked, his mind went to her, the absolute work of art he met mere hours ago and almost accidentally copped a feel. She couldn’t have been in Hawkins long due to the mere fact that she smiled at him instead of shitting a brick at the sight of the town freak, even now.

“She’s so nice but she doesn’t wear any rings like you do daddy.”

Ah, so she wasn’t married.

Get it together man.

“ Do you think the birds will be okay? Their tails looked hurt.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, sometimes birds get confused.” He reassured the kid who had much more compassion for something that tried to kill her than he did.

“Even the birdie with teeth?”

Eddie put the pot of spaghetti down and looked at his daughter.

No, there’s no way.

“What do you mean with teeth, Rosie? What kind of teeth?” He asked, crouching down to his daughter’s level.

“One of the birds had big sharp teeth and no eyes. I could see it in my cubby but nobody else could. Did I do something wrong Daddy?” She asked, reading the horror on his face and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest.

“ You didn’t do anything wrong, munchkin, not one thing. Come on, let’s get you something to eat, huh? Then you have all the brownies your heart desires.”  He said, carrying her to the dinner table, desperately trying to hide his shaking hands.

This couldn’t be happening.

Not again.

Not his baby girl.

You got home late, hands fumbling to shove the many locks in place, the day leaving you exhausted.

But there wasn’t any time to waste, your pills had worn off 10 minutes ago and you knew what was coming.  There was barely enough time to close the blinds and check the makeshift soundproofing of your sparse apartment before the pain took over you.

Mama said your god given powers were like a wildfire if they weren’t in use.

She also said you’d never make it on your own but here you were.

You didn’t make it to the bed this time, curling up on the cold floor with a pained wild scream as your power expelled itself from you, shattering glasses, two windows, and  the bathroom mirror for the third time since you moved in.

A normal life had a price and this was it.

As you struggled to stay conscious in your home, Eddie finished dinner and put his daughter to bed in his.

Neither of you noticed the flickering lights nor heard the scream of a child being ripped from your world to another.

It was starting again.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x yn #stranger things fanfiction

[theladyofbloodshed]

A Court of Tangled Flames - Chapter 3 (aka Beron is a bastard)

The cream stone house was nestled near the edge of a forest. The grounds were encompassed by tall hedges with great trees of the forest bowing over it as if they were peering in. There was only one set of gates at the far end of the property near the paddock for the horses. Orla had two of them that were used to carting patients who were unable to walk.

It was a decent enough size, certainly only a wealthy family could afford such a place if it were in the mortal lands though it was not as vast as the manor Tamlin’s coin had purchased for the Archerons. Nesta liked this home better already. Past the orchard of apple trees, there was a well-tended to garden with beds that were filled with flowers like flames. Yellows and oranges flanked the winding stone path amongst the tall grasses.

Eris led on, his pace gentle. Occasionally, he let out a sharp whistle, pressing his teeth into lip, if one of the smokehounds strayed from the path over Orla’s flowerbeds.

At the end of the path was an arch of twisting vines and honeysuckle flowers. Faintly, Nesta could hear the buzz of a bumblebee as it sought pollen. She heard Eris tut and shake his head.

‘Step back a moment, please.’

The male withdrew a long knife from the sheath on his hip and cut away the overgrown vines that had snaked over the benches, claiming them for their own.

‘Orla doesn’t like to come here anymore, but it’s too pretty to fall to ruin.’

Instead of her arm, Eris took Nesta by the hand this time stepping carefully over the discarded plants and burning them to ashes in his wake.

She thought that he might take the bench next to her to put some distance between them, but the male sat beside her. Despite the warm day, his flames curled in a spiral formation in the brick firepit in front of the two benches. His face was unreadable mostly, but in those amber eyes, Eris sifted through years of memories.

Nesta imagined Orla here with her husband, in this quiet corner of the garden. A place Eris could come to as an escape from life as Beron’s son. How many hours had the three spent here? 

Nesta raised her chin to peer over the rose bushes. She could still make out the roof of the house, but this secret garden had been invisible from the opposite perspective. It was peaceful. A sanctuary from prying eyes.

‘It’s beautiful here.’

Eris gave a slow bob of his head, inhaling the rich scents of the garden. ‘Autumn can feel tedious when it’s all you have, yet the moment I’m out of its grasp, I yearn for home. Do you ever have the same feeling?’

No. Nesta didn’t know how it felt to miss a place. Nowhere had ever felt like a home. Not a place she could belong or a place she wanted to stay. And how badly she did want to set down roots somewhere.

‘I cannot say I do.’

‘Perhaps the Autumn Court will sway you. Spring is a time for re-birth and new beginnings but I’m sure the poets have written something sophisticated about Autumn. Everything has a time to die, all things must end.’ Eris frowned. ‘I’m a terrible poet.’

‘Autumn is my favourite season.’

At her voluntary information, Eris perked up. ‘Why?’

‘Blackberries.’

It felt silly to say it. Winter was dreadful. It came with a bitter cold that no amount of firewood could chase away. She always longed for spring because it brought hope and blue skies. The summer was fine, she supposed, though her allergies had her hiding indoors for most of it. Autumn had always been special. Nesta hoped those long evenings would never end, that winter would never come. She loved the beauty as trees scattered their leaves like unwanted gold. She loved to crunch through piles of them or to collect acorns and conkers. More than anything, Nesta loved the early days of autumn where fat, ripe blackberries hung off brambles so they could stuff their bellies with them without having to spend their last coins on something delicious.

‘Apple and blackberry crumble. With a dollop of clotted cream. I would give my first-born child away for it.’  

‘I’ve never had it.’

Eris gasped dramatically, a hand clutched over his chest. ‘We’ll have it for pudding.’

‘You can cook?’ That was a surprise. Nesta thought the gender roles of the Autumn Court would be rigid, especially for a high lord’s son.

He shook his head hurriedly then said, ‘We’ll ask Orla to make it for pudding – but we can collect the fruit. I’m certain we can manage that.’

The pockets of silence threatened to envelop Nesta again. The bad feelings were returning, that awful grey place where she’d existed before being dragged to the House of Wind where her feelings battled against the roar of emptiness. In the lulls of their conversation, Nesta felt like she was waking from a strange dream. It was as if Illyria never happened, the pregnancy never happened, Hybern had never ruined her.

‘Nesta,’ Eris said gently. ‘I do not expect you to like me and I will not justify my actions because they are done with my court’s interest in mind. That said, it is rare that I ever act without considering every option – then second guessing each one. I suppose what I am trying to say is that when I brought you here, for once in my life, I didn’t think of the consequences. And that’s rare for me.’

One ankle was crossed over his knee. The male was handsome in a way that fitted him. On others, the features might not have meshed well. The milk white skin, amber eyes that reminded Nesta of a hawk, a long, straight nose, and hard angles as if carved from stone. There was no softness to him – yet Nesta had seen smiles from him since she was brought here, the clinical tone banished. He hadn’t sneered or delighted in her misery as she might have expected.

‘We find ourselves now facing a – for lack of a better word – shit storm.’ He tipped his head back, letting the sun wash over his pale face. ‘It’s entirely your choice what we do next. I am meeting with them in a handful of days in the Hewn City. Either we can inform them that you’re safe and well here or we can keep silent.’

Would they even be worried about her? Was it a burden that they no longer had to worry about? Or would they be incensed that she was living beneath Beron’s imposing shadow? Nesta thought of the blades she had Made – their decision to vote on that knowledge had been the flame that helped her descend all ten thousand stairs. They would be sore that they had lost their creature from the Cauldron who did their bidding.

‘I’m not ready to go back.’

Not ready to face Cassian or Rhysand. Even thinking of the former was akin to tearing out her own heart. Nesta took a moment to lament the progress the priestesses had been making. If she didn’t return then likely many of them would recede back to the library. She had been that bridge connecting them from the library to the training ring. Gwyn’s bright, happy face pushed to the forefront of her mind then Emerie’s. Her friends who she’d left behind.

‘You have already done so much for me, but I need to ask for more.’

Anger rippled across Eris’ face. ‘Do not say that. You were forced to traipse after that brute like a dog. He had you sleeping on the hard ground worse than animal. That bastard, Rhysand, threatened to kill his own sister. I didn’t do enough Nesta. When the rivers of Illyria run red then I’ll have done enough.’

There were the glimpses of the male she expected to meet, sharp and cutting, full of hatred. But she could give no defence to Cassian or Rhysand. Couldn’t find it in herself to muster any reasoning why Eris shouldn’t hurt them.

‘Apologies,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘That was crude. Please, whatever you need, it shall be done.’

‘Can a letter be taken to Illyria?’

Through fumbling through Orla’s study, Eris found a pen and paper for Nesta to write to Emerie. It was the safest option, and somehow her friend would get the message to Gwyn. Hastily, she wrote that she was safe and well, not to worry about her, but to continue their training.

Eris asked if he could read it. His brow bunched with distaste. ‘Why aren’t you telling her the truth?’

‘I don’t want to bring trouble to Autumn.’

‘Not that. Why haven’t you told her why you’ve had to leave? What they did to you. You don’t need to protect these people, Nesta. They do not deserve your kindness. Your friends love you. They deserve to know what monsters they live alongside.’

There should have been guilt over her betrayal, but Nesta found that once her hand began to spill the secrets of her heart, she could not stop it. Her hand flew over the paper, covering side after side, right from the beginning of why she was taken to the House of Wind. Not a single stone was left unturned. Nesta could acknowledge that she had done things that were not acceptable, crossed lines, pushed too far. But the others were not innocent. The only secret she kept was her whereabouts – and the unlikely male who had come to rescue.

Eris remained at the table with a dog between his legs, fussing his ears throughout. When Nesta had finished, for a reason she could not name, she offered it for him to read. It was a test of sorts. Nesta had written everything. She measured her breathing as Eris skimmed the loping lines of her letter. He paused near the end, where Nesta had explained how the inner circle had voted on her Made weapons. This was the moment where Nesta expected a cavalry charge to drag her to the Forest House where she’d be at the mercy of Beron Vanserra. Her power could create unstoppable weapons – and that was only a drop of it. But then Eris raised his brow and continued reading until the end.

‘I’ll have to wait until its dark, but I should be able to manage it.’

‘If it’s too dangerous, please don’t. You’ve already risked a lot for me, but I do not want you hurt on my behalf.’

Eris’ stare went through Nesta. It was an unflinching thing that bore down on her, demanding to see all of her.

‘It will be done, Nesta.’ Eris stood, the dog following him as he moved across the red tiled floor of the kitchen. ‘Now, we need to feed you – and I think a cup of tea would be delicious.’

She thought at first he had been talking to the dog until tea was mentioned. Eris would not let her skip a meal. Nesta was beginning to feel unsettled too without the rigor of training then the library. The lack of routine was causing a panic that nibbled at her edges. She had grown too comfortable with the life laid out for her by the inner circle.

Orla had left a little basket of cheese scones covered over by the window with directions to various jars of chutneys if they wished. Neither of them could figure out how to light the stove in Orla’s kitchen for tea.

‘Don’t look at me. I’m a pampered heir. This is my first time in a kitchen,’ Eris said, screwing his eyes into slits as he examined the stove once more as if it might yield its secret now.

‘There’s no guarantee the magic will make you the high lord though. I thought it could choose differently.’

Eris nodded in agreement. ‘That is true. Generally, it does pass to the eldest who will have spent their entire life preparing for it. Maybe the magic knows that I’d be best equipped to inherit it.’

‘But it could be Lucien,’ Nesta hedged, wondering if she’d see the infamous cruel streak of Eris Vanserra at the mention of his exiled brother. She almost wanted to glimpse his temper, to see whether the rumours were true.

Something odd passed over Eris’ face. She couldn’t name the emotion. Not anger. Not irritation. His face faltered, the easy smile flashing like a grimace for a moment, then he said, ‘No. It will not be Lucien.’

Eris shook away whatever cobwebs had clung to him at the talk of Lucien and pressed a palm to his forehead. ‘The trouble with such a vast education is that sometimes common sense can be in short supply. They’re unable to teach such a skill.’

A bead of red flame grew in his palm like a moss until the whole thing was engulfed. Flames trickled over his hand, not burning the skin. With his spare hand, he held the copper kettle above it, boiling the water that way.

‘A very clever trick.’

Eris bowed his head. ‘I have my uses. They are few and far between, but they do exist.’

The self-deprecating humour made Nesta’s lips press into a smile. Eris gasped.

‘That was a smile. It does happen.’

‘It was more of a grimace than anything.’

Eris scoffed at her measly attempt at denial. ‘Babies look as if they’re smiling when really it’s trapped wind. Twenty-four to the fae is practically a baby still. Do you need me to burp you or can you manage?’

Nesta was at a loss for words. Here was the vindictive son of Beron Vanserra who Mor trembled at the mention of. He had cultivated a reputation of violence and cold, cut-throat savagery. But Nesta couldn’t help herself smiling again as he stood teasing her, his amber eyes bright with amusement. The kettle was still held aloft, flames encircling it from below.  

‘You are very…’ Nesta wasn’t sure what word to select.

‘Handsome? Charming?’

‘Strange,’ she settled on.

Eris’ laughter was loud, but genuine. Nesta doubted that anybody had called him that in his long life – and whether she’d find her neck on a chopping block before the day was out. In spite of herself, his laughter made her smile for the first time in days, a true smile.

***

Bit by bit, hour by hour, Eris coaxed life back into Nesta. He had to be soft and gentle – behaviours that were rare enough for him to display – to manage the despicable treatment she’d endured in the Night Court. In the moments where his guard slipped and glimpses of the male he could be with such a select number came out, Nesta seemed to shine. Earning her smiles became a competition for Eris. He wanted to see them all. The shy ones that she hid quickly, the ones that started slow but spread across her face – and the rarest of all, the ones where she laughed and scrunched up her nose.

Once Orla returned home after a day spent seeing to families riddled with fever and sickness, Nesta volunteered to help her cook. Dutifully, she listened and followed instructions. In the moments where a stillness passed over them, Nesta would become forlorn, her lips parting and eyes filling with emptiness. So Eris threw everything he had at her, every terrible play on words to make her scoff, every embarrassing anecdote about him and Orla to make her lips twist into a smile, every trick he’d managed to teach Artyom that served no purpose except to show off.

With the fruit they had picked earlier, Orla obliged them and made a crumble. Once it was finished, Eris found that he didn’t want to leave. Nesta was quiet, offering little to the conversation once Orla had returned, but she listened in with interest. He knew that the female wasn’t even an acquaintance, that he could not compare her character to the glimpses of the past, but Eris knew somehow that Nesta was not right. She was not well. She was not… not happy. And he found it difficult to leave her overnight without probing into her upset and trying to fix it all. Worse still was the fact that he did not know why he felt the desire to bring her happiness. He didn’t know the female. Didn’t need her company or owe her anything. But she had carved herself into his memories the day she stood in front of Prythian’s high lords and made Beron Vanserra still. She had made him listen.

The letter Nesta had written for her Illyrian friend had been an eye opener. It had taken all of his control not to burn the Hewn City to ash the moment he’d finished it. Eris didn’t care about her powers in that moment or what might happen to the court’s exulted high lady. He cared only that Nesta was safe now. She was away from those people and he’d ensure she was taken care of. Well, him and Orla.

For now, Nesta was caught in a limbo where she missed the place but did not want to be part of it. Nesta was wasted in the Night Court. There was more she could do, more she could be, than the same snarling warrior they churned out year after year. When she was ready for the truth, Eris would tell her. The brute did not deserve her. He would always be Rhysand’s dog, his loyal companion. Her sisters did not deserve her. The Night Court did not deserve her. If that was how they treated the sister of the high lady then Eris dreaded to think what life was like for the other females. Nesta would have her safety first then she would grow.

Even if he did not want to, Eris had to say goodbye. He’d neglected a day of paperwork for the first time in his adult life. It was the only time he could remember not picking up a pen or barking an instruction at someone. The webs he weaved required constant observation lest they gather dust or be torn down. Nesta had captured his attention like an unsolvable puzzle. And so Eris said goodbye with the promise that the tutor would arrive in the morning. Nesta had to have that hope of a future to keep her pushing through each sunset. She needed to want to see the dawn.

Under the cover of darkness, Eris fell into the same regime with Ashur, switching positions within the forest before he winnowed to Illyria to deliver the letter.

Windhaven was quiet which was a mercy. Nesta had done her best to describe the location of the shop within the camp, but anybody without wings was noticeable. Eris kept his hood up, head pointed down as he crossed the sloppy mud roads towards the western portion of the camp. Red hair was an Autumn Court trait. He did not need anybody to catch sight of him and whispers to reach the ears of the ruling council.

The shop was dark, expected at the late hour, so Eris didn’t linger. Merely pushed the envelope through the letterbox and slipped back into darkness. He had fulfilled Nesta’s wish – the only thing she could name as a want. It still twisted Eris’ gut. They had eroded her into nothing.

At the return to his rooms at the Forest House, he halted. The guards on duty were not his favoured ones, though of course he was subtle in his favour, but these were his father’s loyal dogs. The door was ajar which meant he had a visitor.

Eris showed no outward signs that this displeased him; he’d learned long ago never to let a single crack show in his armour. His father’s sentries were his birds and spiders, carrying songs and weaving webs on his behalf.

As bold as brass, Beron Vanserra rifled through the paperwork on Eris’ desk. Some might leaf through carefully to leave no traces that they had been there. Not Beron, he ensured his presence was felt. He had to remind all of his court that he had the utmost right to do whatever he pleased whenever he wished.

‘You rearranged a meeting with Wode.’

His father did not turn from the desk that he continued nosing through, no acknowledgement that he cared. The sentries wouldn’t have allowed anybody else to enter save for Eris.

‘The bridge in Altor Hay is undergoing reconstruction. Progress is slow, my lord.’

Beron turned to him then, brown eyes lacking any warmth. ‘It required your eye? I had not known you to be a labourer.’

Eris smiled tightly. ‘It required my encouragement, my lord. The bridge will be in use by the morning.’

It was an easy lie. Altor Hay was a village too far for Beron to care about but it connected two farming towns. As long as their taxes came in on time and in full, he would leave the village alone. Eris had many of his own males there with their families. They were his loyalists; a stronghold in the West close to the border to the Summer Court. Eris helped the rumours that the lesser fae were simple savages to keep his father content, but females that he and Orla assisted could reside there safely or continue onto Summer. If any of his father’s males were sent, the villagers would back up any lie, claiming Eris had been there throughout the day commanding them.

‘Come.’

Beron departed, the sentries flanking him down the corridor with Eris leaving a good distance behind them. They diverted course down a thin corridor that never seemed to warm, the stone always felt damp. Eris’ stomach gave its involuntary lurch once he realised where they were headed.

Down, down, down they went into the cellars running beneath the Forest House. He’d had his first drink here, sneaking down with friends to sip his father’s wine from the vast barrels. First kiss with a timid servant who’d blushed as much as he had when their lips had fumbled together. All of them were dead. Slain on Beron’s orders for minor indiscretions. It was a way to isolate Eris as much as any.

Manacles hung from the ceiling. They were taut under the weight of the male hanging from them. Phelan, the fourth born child of Beron Vanserra, knew better than to react at the sight of his high lord entering. Sentries cut his shirt away, leaving him bare chested for the interrogation.

Beron was sadistic and cruel, but he was efficient too. Eris needed no instruction to retrieve the bullwhip while his father began the interrogation. It was a well-practised dance. Each brother had hurt the others on their father’s orders in a sick determination to prove their obedience to him rather than solidarity with each other. Eris could refuse but Uther would be fetched instead and Eris would find himself hanging beside Phelan for the same treatment.

Each crack of the whip echoed in the underground chamber. Beron only ever spoke during these moments to ask quiet questions – and they were more unnerving that way. It was rare he ever raised his voice. He had no need to.

He questioned his son on the rumours of him cavorting with a lesser fae female. Eris had spread the lie for two reasons; he knew the scandal of Lucien choosing a lesser fae still incensed Beron – and Uther was too over friendly with females. It had been easy to believe. Guilt no longer plagued Eris. Beron had turned them all into villains. Uther likely had slept with lesser fae, likely had hurt them more than pleasured them. None of the Vanserra males were good. Their father had ensured they couldn’t be.

Uther denied it all, no matter how bloody his back was. He could barely speak, barely breathe through the pain, but he still managed to deny Beron’s words. Even Eris’ arm ached from raising the whip above his head and lashing it down upon Uther’s back.

At the signal, the sentries released Uther onto the stone floor. He managed to crawl to his knees and dip his head in submission. The angry lashes bleeding ruby ribbons down his torso.

‘You did well, Phelan. You may go.’

The breaths he took were ragged, but he managed to say, ‘Thank you, my lord.’

The title of high lord was revered by Beron whereas father was reviled. All of his sons knew better than to refer to him as their father lest they wanted to invoke his ire. He was their high lord. The fact that he had sired them was inconsequential.

Servants were called for to scrub the floor clean of the blood despite the late hour. Eris kept his face blank, unfeeling, as they worked. He knew his own investigation was still ongoing; Beron’s eyes flitting to him often. It was his lie that had his brother bleeding and in chains, but Eris didn't like his brother enough to care.

‘Was there proof, my lord?’

Beron shook his head. ‘I wanted to see if he was weak enough to confess simply to end his punishment. For once, my son has proved me wrong.’

@owllover123 @rarephloxes

#a court of tangled flames #surprise! i managed to write this evening! #neris

[squarebracket-trickster]

Happy WBW! It feels like I haven't done this in a while so here's some questions:

What are popular drinks in your world? (Could be either alcoholic or soft drinks).

What is a common form of entertainment in your world?

What is the most interesting weapon you've made up?

Lol I am answering this sooooo late. I am so sorry my friend. But Happy Long Belated WBW all the same<3

What is a common form of entertainment in your world?

In WIPI there is a boardgame called "Coat of Arms" which is like four-way chess meets DnD. There are four sides, the object of the game is conquer the other three. Temporary alliances and secret alliances ensue. Each side is given stats for terrain, resources, population etc. and there are a series of accepted commands that can be strung together on each players turn. There are different versions of the game. Some are medieval siege warfare. Some have canons. Some have dragons. Some use spaceships and nukes. Games can last months and cheating is expected.

What is the most interesting weapon you've made up?

Not a weapon but a shield. A necklace with a pendant that projects an electromagnetic forcefield dome around the wearer's body. When something travelling above a certain speed hits the dome it will immediately disintegrate. It is meant to defend against bullets, the force of explosions, and flying shrapnel. It does not have any effect against slower attacks like darts, throwing knives, people throwing bricks, and good old fashioned punches. This is to stop the shield from disintegrating random objects the wearer will come into contact with like chairs, the floor, and other people. These shields are expensive to make so they are mostly worn by military officers and nobility to protect them from snipers. This is used in WIPIII.

What are popular drinks in your world?

I put this under the cut because 1. this answer is long enough, 2. Content Warning for dismemberment (due to hypothermia) and because the drink is kinda gross.

This comes from a paracosm (elaborate daydream) of mine which I like to mine for WIPI and WIPIII content - I don't know which WIP it will end up in, maybe both. Also, it's not really a common drink, just a weird one.

Moonshine cocktails with sterilized human body parts (toes, fingers, teeth) in them for decoration.

What the heck, Kate??

I know, I know. Some context:

The Empire of Segraeli was in the midst of a succession crisis and peace-talks between the two sides were being hosted by their long-time ally, Oshuada. Unfortunately things started getting tense and it looked like the conflict was about to boil over and become an international war. To ease the tensions, Lyrira, the Empress of Oshuada (who is about 20 years old but has been empress for ten years by now), decides the throw the most hedonistic, scandal-inducing Halloween party in history. She invites all the diplomats and political figures in attendance for the peace talks (representing eight major empires), and her hope is that they will either be distracted by the excitement of the ball, or so outraged that they will forget their initial anger long enough to calm down so the peace-talks can resume. It works.

All the body parts were sourced ethically (believe it or not) from a bar in the remote part of the empire. The story goes that a hiker who frequented the bar lost his toe to hypothermia. As a joke, he got the toe sterilized and stuck it in his shot glass the next time he went to the bar. Somehow the tradition caught on, the hiker donated his toe to the bar, and drinking the toe-shot became an initiation ritual at the bar. Soon, more and more people were donating their amputated body parts and the bar became locally famous for the weird tradition. (and when a messenger from the Empress shows up one day and asks to borrow your body part collection (for generous compensation) you don't exactly say no.)

This is based off a real bar in Yukon, Canada by the way.

#wbw #wipi #wipiii #wipi sort of #wipiii sort of