#real actual line that went through my head writing a chapter of killing me softly

[heavenslittlehellion]

draw this in your style. i'm so serious. tag your furric friends. spread the pathetic<3 #furricmemeDTIYS

#real actual line that went through my head writing a chapter of killing me softly #furric #furfur good omens #eric the disposable demon #chattering order of st furfur

[eashmo]

7 minutes in hell, or is it heaven? Part 12

-There are Stranger Things out there-

Warnings: abuse and angst.

a/n: if ya’ll could'nt tell the time line is totally fuck up from how the show is. also this chapter gave me trouble i didnt want to write it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Billy pov *

 I was relaxing on my bed  flipping through a new rolling stones magazine when I heard my fathers angry voice ringing through the quiet house.

“William! Get your ass down here, right now!” I shivered at my father’s voice, speedily jumping up from my bed, and quickly went downstairs. “You needed me, sir?”

Neil walked over to susannand whispered in her ear. She looked at Billy like she wanted to say something to him but shook her head and left. She always wanted to say something. She just never did.

 “Where the fuck is maxine?” Neil snaps. 

“I don’t know, sir. She is probably at the movies or arcade” 

“You let her go alone?”

“She's old enough to take care of herself.”

“You know what I’m done playing these games. I’m done with your fucking additude”. He slaps me across the face. 

“What did we talk about?”

“Respect and responsibility.” 

“Fucking find your sister!’ instead of staring at yourself in the fucking mirror faggot and get her home immedially” he spats while dragging me out of the house throwing me on the ground next to my car.

I headed to Sinclair's house first, but mrs. Sinclair said that the kids were probably at the wheeler's house.

I rang the doorbell to the wheeler's house, but there was no answer, so i tried again. The door opened to a woman wearing just a robe, her hair slightly wet. She must have gotten out of the shower or something. 

“Oh Hi”  I smiled at her.

“Hi” she softly says. She stared at me in awe, this is going to be fun, i thought. Using my charm to get information faster. 

“I, uh, didn't realize Nancy had a sister. She chuckles lightly. 

 “What's so funny?”

“I'm Nancy's mother.” she laughs. 

Chuckling in disbelief  “Mrs. wheeler”

“Um, I'm sorry, and you are you?” she stammers.

“Billy, Billy hargrove.” I said as I took her hand delicly.

“You must be here for Nancy.”

“Nancy? No, no. Not my type. uh…. “ I noticed she had a glimmer of hope behind her eyes. Sorry, mrs. wheeler im taken. I smile to myself. “No, actually, I am looking for my little sister Max. goes by maxine. She's been missing all day, and, uh, to be honest with you, I've been worried sick, you know, so….”  Not going to lie to myself. i was actually starting to get a little worried about Max. 

“Oh”

“I thought she was at Lucas", but Mrs. Sinclair said your house is the designated hangout, so, you know…"I leaned on the door frame, smirking slightly “here i am.” 

“Come on in, i give you the byer's address.'' She says, opening the door more for me to follow her inside.

“Their driveway is pretty dark this time of night. So drive slowly.” She handed me a piece of paper.

“Always” I smiled at her.

“And when you see Mike tell him to come home already, okay?”

“You’re a real lifesaver, you know that?” I said as I took a bite of a cookie she offered. 

“Anytime.”

“I’ll see you later.” walking out the room i can feel her eyes on me. Chucking, y/n is going to kill me if she finds out I let mrs. wheeler eye fucked me but i needed the inforation for my sake. 

*small time skip*

I pulled up to the byers' house. I see Harrington standing at the front door. “Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?”

“Yeah, it's me. Dont cream your pants.”

“What are you doing here, amigo?”

“I could ask you the same thing, amigo, y/n isn't here, by the way.”

“I'm not looking for her, I'm looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.”

“Huh, that's weird. I don't know her.”

“Small, redhead, bit of a bitch.” 

“Doesn't ring a bell. Sorry, buddy.”

Sighing “you know, i don't know, this whole situation, Harrington, i don’t know. It's giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

“My 13 year old sister goes missing all day. And then I found her with you in a stranger's house. And you lie to me about it.”

He chuckles. “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what? I don't know what you don't understand about what I just said. She's not here.”

“Then who is that?” I pointed my cigarette at the window behind him. He turned, and we saw the kids duck. 

“Oh,shit. Listen….” he started to say before I pushed him to the ground. I leaned over “I'm going to let this slide because you're your y/n friend.” marching to the door, I swung it open to see the kids all staring at me. I saw how close Lucas was next to Max, and that made me furious.

“Well, well, well. Lucas Sinclair. What a surprise.” I say as I walk towards him. Looking over to Max “I thought I told you to stay away from him, max.”

“Billy, go away” she says.

“You disobeyed me. And you know what happens when you disobey me. I break things.” I pushed Lucas against a corner shelf roughly. 

“Billy!, stop!.” she screams. 

“Get off of me.” Lucas says as he struggles under my grip.

“Since Maxine won't listen to me, maybe you will. You stay away from her, you hear me?” I growled.

“I said," Get off me! "” he knees me in the balls, i quickly let go.

“You're so dead, Sinlcair!” 

“No. You are.” Steve turns me away from Lucas and punches me in the jaw. I started to laugh. "LOOKS LIKE THERE'S STILL SOME FIRE IN YOU AFTER ALL! I'VE BEEN WAITING TO MEET THIS KING STEVE EVERYONE HAS BEEN TELLING ME SO MUCH ABOUT!"

“Get out.” was all he said, pushing me back. I threw a punch, but he dodged it, he manages to land a punch on my jaw again.

The kids start yelling “kick his ass, steve!

“Get him!

“Murder the son of a bitch!”

I hit him with a plate and got the upper hand, and continued to land punches on his jaw. “Now one tells me what to do!” I yelled. Steve is a bloody mess on the floor.

“Billy? Kids? What the fuck is going on?” I froze when I heard the y/n voice. “Shit im in trouble” I thought, Steve realized that I stopped and he pushes me into the fridge, a demented dog looking thing fell out onto my lap.

“What the fuck is that?!” i say.

*y/n pov*

I pulled up to the byers house, and I noticed Billy's car  was here, “weird why is he here” I said to myself as i got out of mine. I could hear screaming and yelling coming from the house. I ran to the door thinking we were under attack by demodogs again. I had my nail bat ready and slammed the door open, expecting creatures  but what I found was  my boyfriend beating the ever living shit out of my best friend. 

“Billy? Kids” what the fuck is going on?” I yelled. I noticed Billy froze to my voice and suddenly he was on the floor with a dead demodog on his lap.

“What the fuck is that?!” was all he said. 

“Fuck dustin, why did you have to put in the the fridge.” i say. Great, now I'm going to have to explain everything to Billy, who is probably going to think his girlfriend has gone crazy.

“This is a ground- breaking scientific discovery. We can't just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It's not a dog.” he says as he picks it up from Billy's lap, who was still in shock. 

“Billy?” i say. He doesn't look at me. 

“Baby?” he finally looks at me. “ I'm going to explain everything, so please listen closely…. Okay?” he shook his head, yes. Taking a deep breath.

“The year before you got here, something strange happened to Hawkins. It all started when Will byers went missing, and a girl named Eleven suddenly showed up. El made cross-dimensional psychic contact with the hive mind and opened the "Mothergate" at Hawkins Lab. Somehow, the Mothergate’s creation also caused the Upside Down to transform from its original state and become a perfect copy of the human world, during that time a Demogorgons came through terrorizing both Will in the upside down and our town.” i looked at him carefully. He just sat quietly listening to me. I continued.

“Do you remember when I said i had a brother?” I asked.

“Yes,” he says softly.

“Mikey died at middle school trying to protect the kids from a demogorgon. While I was upside down helping Joyce and Hopper find Will. We managed to get Will back. But he didn't come back nearly like his old self. Recently, he's been having visions about a creature we are calling a mind-flayer, which now has made Will a host. The thing that fell on you was a demodog, a smaller version of a demogorgon. I know all this sounds crazy and I understand if you think I'm crazy but this is what's happening in the hell hole of a town. I wanted to tell you for so long, but I did it to protect you from this, and the government made us promise not to tell anyone." I breathed. 

“You're right. This is crazy and you are crazy, but…. Strangely, I believe you.”  he says, taking my hands. 

“Max, how long have you known?” he asks her.

“Since last year.” she says

“Jesus” he sighs in disbelief. 

"Guys, i have located where hopper dug the entrance to the tunnel," i say to Steve and the kids. as they geared up to help with the mission.

"Baby, i know you're trying to process everything, but we may or may not have to go in an alien vine tunnel thing right now to help save the world."

"oh fucking fantastic" he says as runs after me and the group.

Previous Chapter

Part 13

Masterlist

2023

#Spotify #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #stranger things billy #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #dacre montgomery #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove scenario

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 8

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: fluff, mentions of violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier. 

(a/n: i promise i have other writings in the work outside this fic kdsfjlajdf i maybe have part 2 of ‘Around Your Neck’ coming up............)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You spent the rest of your night trying to redial Bucky’s number. Every single time you just got his voicemail, eventually filling it to the max with pleas for him to call you back. You apologized countless times through texts, begging him to not feel bad and to let you two sit down and discuss it.

But he had really gone radio silence. 

The only real beacon of hope for you was that you could still feel him. You still felt that attachment, the connection of soulmates. He hadn’t totally pushed you out, at least. That was all you could see as far as positives. 

As you went to bed that night, the darkness of the situation was still encompassing you. Even the world seemed to be upset with it as the second you laid your head down, it began storming. 

You fell asleep to sounds of rain hitting the windows and thunder booming across the city. The nightmares engulfed you once more with no signs of your Bucky making appearances this time. Instead, the feelings of dread ran through your body. Bone, skin, blood, and all. It was like an old friend coming to visit. 

The images were nearly the same as well as the asset was back using his knives and terrorizing unsuspecting victims. You couldn’t fight but why would you? You felt lost and defeated as you were engrossed in the metaphorical trenches of the life and missions of the Winter Soldier.

***

You had only been asleep for a few hours when your phone started ringing. Slightly thankful the sound pulled you awake before you had to see another man slaughtered, you jumped up from your bed, diving for the phone. 

The screen shone brightly in the dark of night. It was him. You nearly cried out as you hit ‘accept.’

“Bucky?”

“Can you let me in?” His voice was slowly getting drowned out by the rain. You frowned, confused.

Heading to your front door, you popped your head out, looking down the stairs at the building’s entrance. Bucky was staring at the ground outside. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you to let me in.” He finally looked up, meeting your eyes through the glassdoor. It was not exactly a pretty sight. He looked tormented standing there damp from the rain. You couldn’t speak, just nodded and hung up. Without much care for your current state, draped in an oversized t-shirt and sleeping shorts, you ran down the stairs. 

Once you unlocked the door, Bucky entered the lobby without so much of a glance at you. Wordlessly, you walked back up the stairs to your apartment, letting Bucky follow.

You introduced him to your apartment, showing him the couch where he could take a seat. This certainly was not how you expected his first time in your home would be but you didn’t have much time to mourn it. 

You opted to stay standing, watching as Bucky shifted uncomfortably. He wouldn't look at you yet but you could feel the anger radiating from him. You didn’t know what to do now.

“D-Do y-you want any water or something?” 

Bucky shook his head. “I’m sorry I hung up on you.”

Sighing, you said, “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“I know, I know,” He insisted, sounding so defeated. He leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating. “It’s just… After yesterday morning, I thought I understood what you…you had seen but I didn’t want to accept it, okay? I didn’t want to think it was true. I wanted to believe that my fucking soulmate was learning the better things about me. Actual things about me, not...not that goddamn monster they created.”

A familiar ache came over you hearing his words. This must’ve been really a lot for him if he finally said the word. You didn’t even have time to celebrate it.

You couldn’t help yourself as you crossed the living room and took a seat next to him on the couch like something was actually pulling you to him. He was still staring at the ceiling while you turned towards him, fingers uncontrollably fiddling in nervousness. 

“I didn’t want to tell you,” you admitted. “At first they were everything in my life, inescapable. The nightmares-,”

Bucky cut you off with a scoff. “Nightmares.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, I know that’s unfair to you for me to describe them like that but they weren’t exactly pleasant,” you said. “The nightmares were everywhere and...and the feelings, the images… Even just tonight they-,”

His head whipped towards you. “You still have them?”

“Bucky, you need to let me speak.” He nodded and you tried to collect yourself before continuing, “Everything, from the emotions to the images of those terrifying things, hit me hard, and while, yes, it’s scary and it’s been scary for a very, very long time… I don’t think it should completely matter. I can’t change them - you certainly can’t change them - and they definitely do not represent the man sitting next to me in any way, shape, or form.”

Bucky's hard expression got softer at your reassurance. You had told him this yesterday morning but you felt now you were actually getting somewhere. You were getting your thoughts out there and maybe, just maybe, he’d accept them as facts.

His tone was rough but his words were soft as he began to speak again. “I told you that while you’re with me you won’t ever be hurt or have to worry.” You nodded, remembering the promise in passing. “So it kills me that I can’t fix this. I-I didn’t know about all that, really, and it’s hard realizing you’ve had to deal with consequences from my actions. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve anything like this.”

You tried to muster up a small smile, trying to assure Bucky you were okay. He didn’t look convinced, though. 

“It’s not ideal, no,” you shrugged, “but it’s leading me to you, so, maybe there’s something in it. I think Fate knows what it’s doing, at least most of the time.”

A little smile just barely formed on Bucky’s lips. It wasn’t much but at least he didn’t look like he was ready to punch a wall in your already run-down apartment. 

“Besides, it’s not all bad,” you continued, wanting to at least bring something positive to this conservation. Bucky raised his brows, curiously. “I did have a nice dream that night after dinner. I saw you reading.”

He looked almost relieved. “I guess all we can do is hope those continue.” A beat. “I’m amazed you even allowed me in your apartment.” 

Your jaw went slack, unsure of where this statement was coming from. “Well of course I do. Why wouldn’t I want that?”

Bucky turned away and that rough look of his came back. Your attempts to lighten everything were taking a nosedive apparently, but you couldn’t ask him to avoid or suppress his feelings. You guessed it was better to get these things out in the open.

Bucky eventually asked, “How can you just be okay with everything?” 

This time, you looked away, turning to look out the window opposite of you two. The rain was still coming down steadily. “You haven’t really given me a reason to not be okay with everything.”

Your words were bold, the conversation was bold, and to keep with the theme, you boldly grabbed his hand to hold. You ran your thumb over the back of it in circular motions, trying to calm him. He didn’t pull away, thankfully. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I-I get nervous about all this.”

You chuckled softly, “Me too.”

Bucky hummed, contently. He leaned in a bit closer to you and gave your hand a squeeze. You shifted into his side, wrapping your other hand around his arm, accepting the closeness of you two. 

You decided to break the comfortable silence, trying your magic once again to carry a brighter conversation. “Why didn’t you tell Steve about us?”

Unexpectedly, Bucky chuckled lowly at the question. Your interest peaked greatly. 

“Forgive me if I just want to explore all this new territory with you and only you.” 

“New territory?”

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes. “You just want me to say it again.”

You let out a fake, dramatic gasp. “James, you’re ridiculous.”

You heard him chuckle. His body shifted slightly closer to you. “I want to explore this… this soulmate thing with you. Only you. At least for now. Down the line, I have no problem showing you off but for now… It’s us.”

Soulmate. Us. 

The words rang happily in your ears. Now it really felt real. Him acknowledging it truly, wholeheartedly, and not just in the heat of an argument made shivers run through your body. 

“Us,” you repeated, a goofy grin unable to be suppressed came about on your lips. “I’m okay with that.” You let out a bit of a dreamy sigh. “You know, this all feels really new and really old at the same time.”

Bucky chuckled, “I think that’s how these things work, right?” His other hand came to lay on top of yours gently. “We feel like we’ve known each other for years because, well, I think in some twisted way we kind of have.”

You contemplated the idea, realizing you felt that very deeply. You had and had not known him for almost your whole life. While Bucky wasn’t in the exact form you learned about him in, there was something within him, the actual him, you felt you knew like the back of your hand. 

“We need to go out again,” you finally said, worried continuing with such sentiments would make you emotional for the millionth time tonight. Bucky seemed to welcome this change.

“Are you asking me out on a second date, sweetheart?”

Butterflies filled your stomach. “Well, you weren’t making any move to do it,” you shrugged, shooting Bucky a playful look. He responded with a dramatic eye roll. 

“Maybe I like a woman who takes charge,” he said, shooting you an award-winning, knowing smirk. 

You gasped, your neck suddenly getting hot. Actually, you felt much of yourself getting warm from the little innuendo hidden within his tone. Words were suddenly getting lost on your tongue as your brain short-circuited. You mumbled, “A second date could definitely be fun.”

Bucky let out a room-filling laugh at your sudden nervousness. The twinkle in his eyes told you he would enjoy making these little teasing comments to you from now on. 

“How about tomorrow night, doll? Good night for a second date, don’t you think? Assuming you actually want to see me after tonight’s fiasco.”

You nodded, ignoring his self-deprecation. You couldn’t talk it out of him so actions maybe had to speak louder. “What should we do?”

Bucky waved a hand in dismissal. “You let me handle it. I’ll surprise you.”

“I thought you liked it when a woman took charge?” Now your smirk was just as evil and mischievous. Bucky raised his brows in surprise but rolled with it. He had quite the silver tongue you found. 

“Sure do,” he said, “but a man still has to make sure he takes care of his lady, too.”

You giggled and cozied up into his side, very much enjoying the sound of that. “Fine. Take the reins, Bucky.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #the winter soldier #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #angst #fluff #bucky fic #soulmate au #writing* #avengers

[mosswillow]

Iced Coffee - Dark!Stephen Strange x Reader.

Summary:

You met Stephen Strange your last year of medical school. He was godlike and you were infatuated. You liked him and in return he humiliated you. Years later you were over it; made a career for yourself.

He saw you again, remembered you, wanted you. He was going to show you that he had changed, win you over. You would be his and he would protect you forever, he just had to prove himself.

Series Warnings:

18+ adult content, Dark, Rape/noncon, obsessive behavior, stalking, doctor/medical themes, mild/moderate doctor kink, needles (chapter one, not sex related), violence, abuse, kidnapping, forced marriage, smut, escape attempt, dirty talk (my best attempt at least).

Potential warnings, a non-exhaustive list: Oral, praise kink, mild degradation (Will not include whore or slut)  

You can join the tag list here. 

A/N: Now that I’ve been writing for a few months I’m experimenting with different styles. If you’ve read my other stuff lmk what you think (ask, comment, message, whatever.)

Thank you to the unnamed requester and @couldntbedamned​ for this request. 🖤

By Clicking keep reading you confirm that you are over 18 and understand that this content is mature and potentially triggering. 

CHAPTER 1

Stephen was the most brilliant man you had ever met. School was a joke to him, he easily outperformed everyone no matter the subject. He was confident, lived his life with this air of superiority, and you were obsessed. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, sat next to him in class, helped him when he asked. He was nice to you too, he was an asshole almost all the time but when he talked to you it was gentle, respectful.

It was October third when it happened, the date would forever be burned in your memory. He turned to you and asked you the date.

“It’s october third,” you smiled.    

He thanked you and touched his hand to your arm and you felt a spark, you were sure he felt it too.

But he didn’t feel it, you were so very wrong.

You found out just how wrong you were that evening in the worst possible way. It was so unexpected, so hurtful. You walked into the small coffee shop you and your friends frequented and saw them all in the corner, socializing. A stab of pain struck you in the chest; nobody invited you. Maybe you should have backed away, recognized you weren’t wanted but you heard your name. You thought they had seen you, called you over.

They hadn’t seen you though, weren’t talking to you.

They were talking about you.

“Poor thing, thinks she has a chance with me,” you heard Stephen laugh.

You walked behind him, tears welling in your eyes and someone nudged him awkwardly. He looked up and made eye contact with you. A tear fell down your face as you backed away from the group. It was like a nightmare, like looking down and seeing you were naked, but this wasn’t a dream. It was horrifyingly real.

“Pathetic,” you heard him say to the laughing group of people you called friends.

It broke you.

You spent the remainder of your time in school avoiding him and every friend who had been there. You poured yourself into your studies and came out of it stronger than before, like a phoenix being reborn - You were brand new, beautiful, powerful.

You became a doctor and scientist and a damned good one at that. But Stephen was always better. Every conference, every medical magazine, he was there; always at the top. You could never escape him.

Until his accident.

He was suddenly gone, you couldn't believe it. Dr. Stephen Strange, the most accomplished neurosurgeon, lost his hands. The shock wiped through the medical community, a travesty they said. It wasn’t a travesty to you though, It was almost uncomfortable how happy you were at his downfall. It felt so freeing to see the great and mighty Doctor Strange fall so far, for your bully to lose the thing that was most precious to them. He became irrelevant, dropped from magazines and conferences and disappeared without a trace. You were truly content for the first time in your life. You were free.

Stephen flexed his fingers and smiled. It was a long road to recovery but he did it, he was a neurosurgeon again and even better now. He was godlike, able to perform surgeries that he could only dream of before. He wasn’t just going to get his life back, he would flourish, go above and beyond his already impressive list of accomplishments, he would dominate.  

He walked into the conference full of confidence, an arrogant smile plastered on his face. The gasps and stares made him stand even straighter, walk with even more purpose. He always loved being the center of attention, it made him feel superior.

It was his addiction, to be special, better than everyone around him. The craving for greatness was a consequence of his birthright. He needed to be better because he was better. His brain was like a radiant flame, he shined brighter than everyone around him and he knew it.  

“Stephen, good to see you,” a group of colleagues surrounded him, patting him on the back. He felt at home, this was where he belonged.

The auditorium started filling and he followed the group in, sitting in the back and opening his pamphlet. It wasn’t usually his type of lecture to listen to but he had time to kill before his next panel. The speaker, a specialist in infectious disease, worked at New York Hospital where he would start back on Monday. He closed his pamphlet and waited patiently for the presentation to start.

She walked onto the stage and his body tensed as he watched her prepare for her speech. Stephen’s brain was on fire, the attraction to this stranger like nothing he had ever felt. His thoughts turned less than appropriate as he stared at her ass. He saw no panty lines and couldn’t help but imagine what did or did not lie beneath the skirt's thin fabric. She wasn’t a conventionally attractive woman but that made her even more beautiful in his mind. She was perfect for him, a mix of everything he was physically attracted to in one person. Women had thrown themselves at him but he didn’t want any of them, he wanted her.

Then she started speaking and a new wave of attraction washed through him as her intelligence became apparent. Who was this woman? He rarely felt attraction like this, attraction that consumed onto his whole being. He needed to get to know her, needed to touch her, smell her hair, hold her hand. He was obsessed.

He didn’t even realize her presentation had ended until everyone started applauding. Stephen stood and clapped along. He watched her exit the stage and as he walked closer her face suddenly flashed into his memory. He knew her years ago in med school. She liked him, she followed him around like a puppy.

Excitement built as he approached her, but she gave him one look and her face fell into a grimace.

“Stephen Strange,” He held his hand out.

Her reply was cold, “We went to school together,” she spit, ignoring his outstretched hand.

“Yes, we did, didn’t we. I’m very interested in what you’re working on. Maybe we could get together, have dinner?”

“No,” she turned and walked away from him.

“Hey,” He yelled at her, but she kept walking, giving no acknowledgement of his obvious frustration.

It didn’t take him long to catch up, he reached out and grabbed her shoulder pulling her around to face him.

“What is this hostility about?” He asked.

Her body went rigid and she wrenched her shoulder out of his hand, “Poor thing, thinks she has a chance with me,” She said through gritted teeth.

He remembered in that moment what had happened, how he used her for short lived friendships.

“I’m not that person anymore, I’m sorry, let me show you,” be begged.

“You called me pathetic,” She snarled.

“It was so long ago, please.”

She stood up tall and leaned into him. “Pathetic,” she called him before walking away again.

He stood there dazed, never having been discarded so callously. He couldn't leave it like this, he would show her he had changed and she would forgive him. He was determined. He was the great Doctor Strange and he could do anything.

A sob took over your body as you read the little piece of paper. It was over, no more money for research. The conference was your last hope to find funding and you didn’t succeed. You looked at a little blue vial and picked it up. It was a bad idea, you knew it was, but this medicine could help so many people. If you didn’t try it right then you may have never known if it worked or not. You removed your jacket, swabbed your arm and filled a syringe. A tear fell down your cheek as you depressed the plunger.

It immediately started burning, beginning in your arm and flowing throughout your veins until you were screaming in pain. The room spun around and your vision started to blur. You stood and took a few shaky steps before falling to the ground and curling into a ball. Quiet whimpers escaped your lips as you struggled not to pass out from the pain.

A knock rang through your ears and you lifted your head slightly.

“Hey, it’s me,” called a voice from the other side of the door.

Stephen, of course he would show up at the worst moment possible. You were in so much pain and part of you wanted to ask for help but you couldn’t. If anyone found out you could lose your licence and Stephen was someone you were sure would turn you in.

“It’s not a good time,” you yelled.

“I just wanted to apologize for my behavior, I was an asshole but I’ve changed. I really have.”

“Go Away Stephen.”

The doorknob jiggled and you held your breath. You had locked it, you were sure you had.

“Hey, I’m getting worried, open the door,” he demanded.

“I’m sad, ok, lost funding for my research. I don’t want you to see me cry. Happy? If you’ve actually changed you’ll leave!” you put your hand over your mouth to cover a groan, the exhaustion of talking having caused intense pain in your lungs.

“Oh, um, sorry to bother you,” he murmured.

You sighed in relief as the sound of his footsteps disappeared and then hugged your aching body, shivering and crying softly as excruciating pain moved around. It suddenly felt like you had been thrown in a freezer. It Was so cold, why were you so cold?

You shivered and cried on the floor for hours until sleep finally took you, giving a slight respite from the worst day of your life.

Series master list ~ Next Chapter

#dark!stephen strange #stephen strange x you #Stephen strange x reader #dark!stephen strange x reader #dark fic #dark marvel #dark!mcu

[stanknotstark]

Easy Aim (Is Only Exciting Once or Twice) Pt. 4 (Loki x Reader)

So right after I wrote those lines about Loki wanting to fuck himself the song from my playlist that played was Such a Whore (Stellular Remix) and it started with “You’re such a whore! Oooooo.” AND I LOST IT GUYS.

BTW when i was asking my friends weird questions about boners they were like ._. wtf are you writing? Actually, don’t tell us, please. 😂 so the reactions you have here are truly what goes on with men as they struggle with their boners, they just learn to better control it apparently. This is very interesting from a science point of view tbh

After the whole fiasco of cuddling with Loki you hadn’t really been able to think of much other than that. How his touch, in your body, was soft and warm. How your body fits into his perfectly, like matching puzzle pieces. You’ve also started noticing little things about him that you like. No, not just like, like like. 

Like how Loki had a model walk where he swung his hips as he walked (and you need to learn how to do that because it looks good on your hips). 

Like how Loki would only eat the green Skittles, because green in his favorite color, when you shared a bag while watching movies. 

Like how Loki kept a neutral face when speaking anywhere near the other Avengers but when it was just you and him he would allow himself to feel more, to actually scrunch his face up in disgust, to smile when you said something funny, when you would insult him he would smirk, pout, or roll his eyes with a smile. 

Like how Loki had started leaving lingering touches on you. He would slide his hand over your arm to get your attention. He would grab your shoulder when you shared laughter. Sometimes he’d even let his eyes and hands roam your clothes and fix them, straighten them, give a satisfied nod and smile when he thought you looked acceptable, his hand resting over your chest. 

And liking him is completely fine. It’s something natural and you like it but the real problem was that you were in a man’s body. As a woman you didn’t even have to try masking desire. As a man....

You get the point. 

So, you’re sitting in the common area with Loki, spending time with the whole team when it first happens. 

You’re all watching a movie when a sex scene comes on. That’s fine, you’re cool about that, it’s when you start thinking of Loki doing the stuff to you that it happens. 

You can actually feel the blood flow being redirected to your crotch. You jump a bit and Loki who sits next to you notices but says nothing, opting instead to watch you instead of the movie. It’s something you would have missed had you been used to the feeling. The blood flow is slow, it’s not a rush, but it’s enough to warrant surprise and curiosity.  

You swallow and bring a hand up to your mouth to bite your finger. What was it men did to stop this? Think about their grandmothers in panties or something? Which you did but then you thought about Loki bare but in a sexy, lace pair of boxers. 

Fuck.

You can feel your cock filling and if you don’t do something it’s going to tent the sweats you wear. 

You shift your body so your legs aren’t splayed out. It had taken you some time to get used to sitting like a man, legs open so you didn’t pinch your junk or sit on one of your balls. That was an experience that had Loki in stitches. 

Right now though you can’t get the picture of Loki licking at your neck, biting it, lavishing it with his mouth, out of your mind. It’s almost as if primal instincts are taking over. 

Without thought you let your other hand, you’re not busy biting, trail to Loki’s, body and rest on his thigh. When you glance at him understanding fills him and he has the gall to smirk at you. 

You’re about to growl and jump him but you stop yourself with your eyes squeezed tight. 

Loki pulls your finger from your mouth before you break the skin with light touches. 

You’re lucky the lights are off because you’re at full attention now, but no one notices it in the shadows. 

Loki shoves a pillow into your lap which you take with a thankful look. You settle back into your spot with your eyes closed, again. Your right hand holding the pillow to your crotch and the other resting on the couch’s arm rest, balled into a fist.

You have to bite your lip because the TV plays out a woman’s moans. God how long did this sex scene last, it’s not a freaking porno! 

Oh, shit, you move a little and cause the pillow to give your new cock friction. You just barely stop yourself from thrusting into the pillow and groaning with pleasure. How the fuck do guys handle this when they’re so sensitive and move based on instincts? You compare the feelings on control to Banner who has minor control on Hulk. You have just enough control to stop yourself from embarrassing yourself but it is taking everything you have in you to stop it.

Finally the scene is over and Tony gives a low whistle. Steve slaps the back side of his head causing Tony to laugh. 

You focus on the team, anything but your own body and Loki next to you. 

Clint gives a chuckle and when you open you eyes to look at him he stares at Natasha who throws popcorn into his mouth from a different couch about 6 feet apart. 

Ok you could handle this. Everything was fine. 

Everything was not fine. 

Loki enjoying your suffering decides to cuddle up to you. When you look at him with wide eyes he smiles dangerously. 

You don’t say anything, in case you alert the team of what’s going on, so Loki decides that’s his cue to get comfortable. He rests his head on your collar bone his arms wrapping around your chest, one hand coming up to cusp your neck where he strokes it with his thumb. God you can smell Loki. You hadn’t switched soaps so he smelled masculine. It was intoxicating and making your brain meltdown. Your thoughts were slipping into simple demands. Pleasure. Friction. Mine, you think as Loki trails his thumb on your neck.

Your breath starts coming out in puffs and you’re doing everything in your power not to pick Loki up and take him in front of the team. 

“Shh.” Loki says softly at your heavy breathing.

You glare at him for a second but listen and calm your breathing, closing your eyes once again. 

Then Loki makes it even worse. 

The hand that was caressing your neck slides down your chest to the waistband of your sweats. 

You bite your cheek and you’re pretty sure you taste blood. The look you give Loki could kill if he was any lesser of a man. 

Loki lets his fingers glide over the waistband then his feminine fingers slip under the elastic part of your pants and caress the sensitive skin underneath. 

You gasp, your eyes looking over the team, but you’re lucky because the team also gasps when a plot twist in the movie pulls at their attention. 

You look at Loki who didn’t miss your gasp and smiles, sharp enough to cut. He retracts his hand, thankfully, and lets it settle on your stomach. 

You calm, thinking that’s all Loki will do, breathing slowly.

Oh, you’re so wrong. 

Loki lets his hand wander under the pillow and when he gives friction to your boner you yelp, push Loki off you, the pillow toppling to the ground, stand up, and quickly leave the room without a word. 

When you’re safely in your room you put your back to the door and slide down it with heavy breathing. 

You sit with your legs stretched out on the ground so as not to bother your problem. 

You close your eyes but all that comes to mind is Loki touching you so you hiss and open them again. You had to do something about this. However, you feel like that breaks your trust with Loki so instead you get up, grab a book, and sit up in bed. 

If you had to suffer, fine. All you knew was that you’d get Loki back for the shit he pulled tonight. 

You start reading, having to reread a lot because your mind wandered, not all your blood was where it should be, but you get through a few chapters before there is a knock at your door. 

“Come in!” You yell. 

Thankfully, your problem had went away the more you focused on the book. 

Loki comes in, sauntering like he owns the place but frowns at your pants. 

You actually laugh at the dejected look on his face. 

“I didn’t jerk off if that’s what you’re thinking.” You tell him, closing your book and setting it on your lap. 

“What?” Loki asks shocked, now looking at you with a slight frown.

You raise your brow at him. 

“I’m not sure whether I should take this as a compliment or not. You really wanted to fuck yourself?” 

Loki scoffs, “Maybe. Would me being vain really shock you?” 

“Not necessarily.” You say with a smile. “However, I don’t see you as vain in this situation.” You say suggesting he wasn’t in it to fuck himself, he wants you.

Loki looks over your face to see if you’re joking or not. When he realizes you’re not joking he raises his brow with a smirk. 

“You were thinking about me when the movie was playing, were you not?” 

“Irrelevant. We’re talking about you right now.” You throw at him. 

Loki’s smirk turns into a salacious smile. 

“If you admit you have feelings first I shall get on my knees and suck you off right now.” Loki says. You gasp and throw your book at him which he dodges with a wide smile. You feel the blood rushing down again at the thought of Loki kneeling for you.

“You-you imbecile!” You yell. 

Loki laughs with delight when you jump off the bed and chase him from your room. 

#easy aim #easy aim pt.4 #loki #loki x reader #body switching au #my writing #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #this was fun to write #im loving this small piece #im happy i saw that peeing scene from jumanji otherwise it wouldnt have happened

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 3

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

word count: 4k

content warnings: mention of rape and victim-blaming (talking about Clea's previous job in sex crimes— not her personal experience).

masterlist

this chapter is drawn from the season 1 episode 17 episode "A Real Rain," which is supposed to be in New York, but I didn't wanna write about New York so I changed it to Boston.

I drop a second sugar packet into my coffee before taking a tentative sip. my face twists in discomfort. previous to working here, I would bring my own thermos from home and it would last me all day, but I've had to up my caffeine intake to two or three cups.

"you get used to it." JJ walks over to me, steeping her tea. despite the fact that it's early, she's perfectly put together. her hair is tied up and her eyes are sparkling.

"how?" I laugh. she points to the coffee pot, which is fresh and yet somehow tastes slightly stale.

"when you've been up for twenty four hours, you won't care how it tastes."

I avert my widened eyes at this.

"you could do what Spence does and just add a bunch of sugars." she tilts her head towards Reid, who is rocking back in forth in his spinny chair with a huge volume open in front of him. he doesn't even notice us staring at him.

"ew, what?" I giggle. JJ nods.

"hey, Spence!" she calls across the office. his head pops up to frown at us.

"yes?"

"how many sugars do you use?"

"five. occasionally six." he says this without a hint of the shame it deserves. my eyebrows shoot up and I take another sip of the bitter drink, trying to ignore the taste. it coats my tongue.

"see?" she smirks. "just so you know, we have another case. meeting in five." she sashays away to the conference room, leaving me standing there with an overwhelming urge to sweeten my drink. I keep it at three and add a splash of creamer to drown out the bitterness, then walk briskly to my desk to grab a few of my things.

"we have a meeting, Reid." I say across the divider between our spaces. he holds up an index finger, slams the book shut, and grabs his things. I wait for him to get collected before we head up.

"what were you reading?" I ask, peeking at his workspace. books are lined up against the divider, loose papers scatter the surface, and there are three uncapped pens littered about. his disorganization surprises me.

"War and Peace." he replies, checking his watch.

it's not even nine am.

...

I'm staring out the window of the jet while Morgan and Prentiss battle out yet another card game with Reid. there's not much to see until we slice through clouds and fly over Boston, which is glittering in the early light. I sigh and turn back to my book, tucking my legs up beneath me.

"this is not how I planned to visit." Morgan notes, looks through his cards.

"I'm looking forward to seeing Boston." Spencer smiles softly. at this, all of us look up.

"you've never been?" Morgan asks doubtfully. Emily snorts.

"we've never had an unsub there." Reid doesn't seem to think this strange at all. Morgan and I share a glance before he speaks.

"Reid, it's an hour-and-a-half flight."

"I'll show you around if we have some time." Emily smiles reassuringly at the boy genius.

"it's an easy trip, man." Derek chuckles. Spencer isn't bothered by our teasing. instead, he draws another card from the deck and focuses on his game.

"I've never been either." I state. the team turns to me with surprised expressions, causing my cheeks to flush.

"you, too?" Morgan makes a face like I've disappointed him.

"I've been meaning to go." I shrug. "there's an exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts that I wanna see."

"what exhibition?" Spencer doesn't look up from his hand.

"uh, Titus Kaphar." I haven't had the opportunity to travel much, so a lot of the art I've seen has been from a computer screen or in class in college. it would be nice to actually get some experience seeing things face-to-face.

"Shifting the Gaze!" Spencer's face snaps up to beam at me, referencing the piece so vehemently that it makes me laugh.

"yeah, exactly."

"I went to his talk a couple years back."

"no way. really?" I shut my book and lean forward while he nods. Prentiss and Morgan are watching our conversation like a tennis match. while Reid rambles about all the things he heard at the lecture, I listen intently. it's good, because I don't really feel like talking right now; my head is pounding all over again, and this is distracting.

"do you ever go to the art museums in DC, then?" I ask once he's finished. Reid gets this crooked smile on his face like he wants to say a bunch of things, but is holding his tongue. his face is animated when he tells me about the other exhibits he's seen at the Smithsonian and apparently abandons his cards. Prentiss and Morgan have lost interest in our conversation; they start their own game and let us talk for the rest of the flight.

when we touch down, I immediately feel overwhelmed by the crush of people around us. our first crime scene is a taxi cab in Hyde Park, where the driver has been blindfolded, shot in the chest, and stabbed right through his ear. the blade, broken off from the handle, is lodged in his brain.

despite the fact that his kills are violent and seemingly random, the unsub definitely isn't disorganized. he carries his MO out the same way each time, which makes all of us question if we've missed a connection between victims.

"it's possible he's a sort of serial killer groupie." Spencer notes as he examines the inside of the cab, which is splattered with a mix of rainwater from the night before and blood. I shift where I'm standing to try to follow his line of sight.

"what do you mean?"

"Lawrence Bittaker and Roy Norris drove ice picks into their victims' heads and broke off the handle." he explains.

"well, if he's doing that, then he's presenting a mixed profile." I frown.

"exactly."

"mixed profile?" the police officer next to me asks.

"yeah. the fact that this guy is shooting his victims first suggests that he needs a quick and effective means of controlling the situation, which means that he probably doesn't think he can overpower them." I say.

"he could have a physical problem-- or maybe he's just not confident because he's small." Reid is still examining the taxi for any further evidence, but it seems sort of pointless.

"plus, he's organized and hunts at night. that tells us he most likely has a steady job."

"so," the cop stares between us with a perplexed expression. "we're looking for a small, angry white guy with a day job?"

the sarcasm in his voice makes me smile a little.

"I know it doesn't narrow down a lot right now, but we know that this guy isn't blitz attacking his victims. it's more of an execution."

the officer nods at this and my phone buzzes in my pocket. I turn to Reid.

"we gotta go."

Spencer nods curtly, straightens, and starts to immediately walk back to the car. I shake my head at his behavior, then follow after.

...

we get called to visit a new crime scene in the morning, this time in a church. Hotch holds the door open for me and I walk in to see a body laid out in front of the pews. an older woman sits towards the back, comforted by a nun.

"how'd they find him?" Prentiss asks the police chief as she leads us to the victim.

"night janitor." she nods to a man being questioned by cops in the corner.

"did he see anything?" I ask her.

"no, but he remembered a parishioner who was here earlier," we walk past the older woman. she stares at us expectantly as the chief talks. "so there could be a potential witness."

we stop at the body of a priest, his eyes covered and a blade lodged in his skull, unsurprisingly. Emily and I stare down at him, realizing the same thing.

"first public killing." she notes as she bends down to examine his wounds. "he's getting bolder."

"the presentation is just as important as the kill." I join her on the ground, snapping my gloves tighter on my hands and turning his head to the side to get a better look at the blade. semi-dried blood coats the tied fabric around his eyes.

"I'm gonna go talk to that woman." Emily leaves. the crime scene agent crouches down on the ground across from me, and I bite my lip before making a strange request.

"would you mind... sliding that thing out of his ear?"

the agent blinks at me in disbelief, probably not wanting to pry a knife out of someone's head, but nods and does so carefully. I squint down at the wound. then I realize something.

"Reid?" my voice carries across the room. Spencer is talking to an officer when he hears me and walks over.

"this doesn't look like a normal blade, but I don't know what it is." I point at the now half-buried weapon. it sits unpleasantly out, the blood catching warm light. Spencer gets down next to the crime scene agent and examines it more closely.

"this is flint." he says slowly, turning to me with a concerned expression.

"like the stone?"

"flint is the symbol for protection and retribution in Egyptian mythology. with hieroglyphics, they used to display dangerous animals like scorpions and snakes being cut with flint knives in order to render them powerless."

"oh." is all I can manage while I process what he's saying. Spencer waits for me to say something else, but instead I bend my head down to pull back the silk tie.

"there's no way that using flint is a coincidence." I reason. the blood is all on the inside of the tie as well, which gives me pause. Reid recognizes this a second later, his eyes lifting to mine. they look almost brown in the candlelight, flecks of gold sparkling in them while his mind whirs endlessly.

"I'm gonna call Garcia to see if any of the victims have been charged with a crime." he tells me.

"good idea." we both stand, the crime scene agent scurrying off to do something else. I head back over to Emily and hope that we're right about this. flint is too specific of a weapon for it not to be intentional, right?

...

we deliver the profile by the end of the work day, our unsub a serial vigilante with a personal edge to all of his killings. my body is slightly shaky from downing cups of coffee without any actual food, so the promise of eating out after we finish makes my stomach eager.

we go to a Chinese restaurant by the station and keep talking about the case, despite having promised ourselves not to do so. I sit between Prentiss and Reid while I dig into my dumplings. I like listening to them swap theories and past cases, how they weave together all their stories.

"you forgot to add something to the profile earlier today, Aaron." Rossi says as he piles more noodles onto his plate. our attention immediately focuses on the Italian.

"what did he forget?" Prentiss has a ghost of a smile on her face. I've noticed that she tends to speak like she's on the inside of a joke that other people don't understand. the intonation of her words feels like a secret.

"I didn't mention the possibility of our unsub being a cop." Hotch takes a sip of his ice water. there's a moment where we all reflect on this information before Morgan breaks the silence.

"I mean, they do know the system."

"they could easily take matters into their own hands, given what they see every day." Prentiss adds. I nod.

"when someone like our victim is killed, police refer to it as a public-service murder." Reid struggles to get the noodles onto his chopsticks, which I notice but don't say anything about. he tries again, the food slipping back onto his plate. Morgan notices this shortcoming of Spencer's and I see that he's about to start teasing him, so I change the subject.

"I saw a lot of rapists walk when I was in sex crimes," I put down my dumpling while I talk. Hotch watches me intently. I haven't spoken much about my previous job with anyone on the team, especially not him. in fact, he barely knows anything about me. "a lot of the victims didn't feel safe pressing charges, or the juries said they were asking for it. it's enough to make you wanna explode."

"it's a long way from feeling like that and actually committing a murder, though, don't you think?" Emily asks.

"not really." I turn my gaze back to my plate and start to feel nauseous. there's a clinking of plates and silverware as we continue in silence. Emily nudges my arm gently with hers and offers me a supportive smile.

I hear Spencer next to me, getting the attention of a passing waiter.

"excuse me," he says in a low tone. "can I get a fork, perhaps?"

Morgan snickers as the waiter takes off to get the utensil. at this point, there's a palpable tension as we wait to see who makes fun of Reid first. he drops his chopsticks into his bowl with a defeated clatter and Derek gently pushes his knuckles against Spencer's cheekbone.

"having some trouble, kid?" he asks. Spencer smacks his hand away.

"don't be mean." I giggle, reaching onto my wrist to grab a hair tie. "here, try this." I wrap the thing around the end of Spencer's chopsticks so that they're easier to use, handing them back to him.

Spencer tries again and it works-- if not somewhat clumsily. he gives me a little appreciative smile and I smile back before returning to my food, listening to the stories that Rossi doles out. he even pays for dinner despite our half-hearted protests.

the entertainment for the evening is pretty nice, but when I've stuffed myself with Chinese food, Emily leans over to me.

"do you wanna go to that museum you were talking about earlier?" she whispers. I peek at my phone to check the time.

"I doubt we'd have much time before they close, but yeah, definitely." excitement bubbles up in my stomach as I realize I might actually get to poke around for a while. Prentiss throws her napkin on the table abruptly.

"Clea and I are going to the Museum of Fine Arts. anyone wanna join?"

I look around to gauge some reactions.

"I'm interested." Morgan nods.

"I've already been several times." Rossi takes a sip of his drink as he politely declines. Hotch shakes his head.

"I have some paperwork I need to finish."

"again?" Prentiss complains.

"I'll go." Spencer sits up straighter as he looks at his brunette friend, folding his napkin neatly on his plate. my eyebrows raise a little, although I'm not surprised that he'd be interested in visiting any museum. we stand and get ready to go; Hotch warns us to be ready to go at seven in the morning tomorrow. a little weight is lifted off my chest as I realize that there will be some reprieve during this case, and then we're wandering out into the evening air.

we ate dinner sort of early, so the sky is still slightly aglow with a bruised shade, preparing to sink into its favorite darkness. after finding the route to the museum, we hop on the train.

Boston is lovely in the kind of way that aches of neat corners and airy lights. stores crammed with antiques and novelty products line the sidewalks, people wander about as they take in a pleasant night. somehow disjointed and cohesive all at once.

whatever bit of conversation we had on the way dissipates into breathlessness once we get inside the enormous entryway. it's cavernous, extravagant, gorgeous. we flip through brochures advertising different exhibits. Emily raves about Impressionism and decides that that must be our first stop, so we head off with the rest of the museum stragglers who have decided to feed themselves with art until they're forced to leave.

my head is constantly spinning to admire something else in the enormous white rooms. it's a bit overwhelming at some points, what with the gargantuan canvases that greet me at every turn. but it's impressive, too, and I find myself hungrily reading all the small plaques. I venture out of the Impressionism vein and into Korean art, my feet carrying me away from Morgan and Prentiss. Spencer broke off a while ago; to where, I have no idea.

I check out vases and pottery, sculptures, renderings of historical events. images from the crime scenes fill my head intrusively. there's no use in trying to shut them out; they've been in my dreams for a while now, the kind that wake me up in a cold sweat. I haven't told anyone about them— I'm sure others get them, too— and I don't want to seem like I can't handle it. every time I close my eyes, I begin to feel the pressure of a knife against my temple.

"a lot of these are from private collections."

the voice causes me to jump, my skin erupting in goosebumps as Spencer stands beside me. he holds his bag against his side and follows my line of sight to the 18th-century bookshelf screen.

"that's interesting." I reply. what else is there to say to that?

"really makes you think about what other art pieces won't ever be seen by the public." he turns and starts walking onto the next work, seemingly done with this conversation. my brow furrows while I watch him go, his posture miserable as a result of his skinny build. he's quite tall.

"what do you mean?" my voice comes out quiet, but it carries in the otherwise empty exhibit. Reid turns around and stops in his place, allows me to catch up briefly. we start to read another plaque by a silver basin.

"you could have a Cézanne just rotting in your attic and it would never be examined by the right scholars." he shrugs.

"I really doubt there's anything nearing that value in my attic." I laugh.

"you ever seen 'Antiques Roadshow'?" he asks non-sarcastically. I balk.

"sure."

"you never know." he's not a man of many words, apparently. I get his message regardless and we continue to walk, him setting out facts for me in neat rows, simple and easily taken in. he's definitely a know-it-all, but not in the way that makes me want to escape his presence. it's sort of comforting, having someone around who just understands everything. his absolute lack of social graces makes him easy to be around, too; I don't need to force conversation because he doesn't care.

we wind up in the mummy section, where the walls tingle with an energy that could only be described as magical.

"spooky." I nod to the domineering sarcophagus lid of Kheperra. a spotlight illuminates all of its intricacies and I make a beeline for it. Spencer trails behind me and we fall into silence as we peer at the exquisite details. it's intimidating, for sure, hulking and made of carved black stone. "you feel that?" I whisper to Spencer, who is enthralled in the image.

the way the spotlight spills over onto him is interesting; it emphasizes the shadow below his jaw and the delicate quality of his bone structure, his cheekbone prominent at the place where his ear meets his face. his lashes are long and lovely, his Adam's apple poking out of a slender throat. he turns to me with a curious expression.

"feel what?"

"the energy change," I smile. "from the ancient dead bodies."

"it's probably just the dark lighting and the media associations you have with mummies." but his eyes begin flitting about the room in a slightly panicked manner. I feel a smirk tug at my lips as I step closer to him.

"are you scared?"

"no," he scoffs and makes a face like I've made the world's most absurd accusation. "why would I be scared?"

"because we're all alone in here..." I use a lower tone to freak him out a little. "who's to stop them from coming out and... snatching us?" when my hand snakes around behind him to pinch his arm, he jumps.

"what the--" he catches sight of the devilish grin on my face. "don't do that!"

"sorry, Einstein." I laugh and turn in the other direction, him following me to the next piece. Spencer doesn't seem to have more thoughts to give on the exhibition, probably still a little creeped out. part of me begins to feel guilty for startling him, even though he constantly does that to me. his footfalls are weirdly soft.

I wonder what Spencer is like outside of work. what he does when he gets back to his apartment. how could someone like him entertain themselves? maybe he just reads books until his eyes glaze over. he definitely doesn't go out often, but maybe he has other nerdy friends. I hope he does. there's something in his eyes that's too viscous for me to grasp, something swimming and pocketed. I'd like to understand it, although that doesn't seem like a great idea to pursue. he barely gives his closest friends information about his life.

we end up at opposite ends of the room, him still examining an entombed husband and wife couple while I check out a canonic jar. the silence in this room is tangible. I wasn't lying when I felt an energy shift— it's like gold and clay and it smells like cracked cinnamon.

I'm trying to get a better look at the detailing when I feel a cold hand wrap around my forearm, easily encircling it. I jolt.

Spencer stands behind me with a playful smile, like he's quite pleased with himself.

"Reid!" I yank my arm away from his long fingers and see him let out that rare laugh. it's pleasant and fills the room with a warmer light as I rub my arm where his fingers held me. I'm surprised he was willing to touch me at all; it's pretty obvious that he's got a problem with germs, which is understandable.

"who's scared now?" he tries to defend himself with his palms when I reach out to gently smack his shoulder.

"you know, I was starting to feel bad for you." I laugh. he smiles brightly and keeps walking into the next room. I realize that the way we move is like two weighted ends of a string. he drifts out on his own, I follow, and vice versa.

I appreciate that he's beginning to loosen up around me, so much so that he smiles at a joke I make in the English Regency section. we walk quickly to absorb as much as we can before the museum closes, but we still don't get through all of it. Spencer isn't much of a conversationalist, and he doesn't really need to be. he listens to me talk, I listen to his erudite observations, smiling when he uses certain terms that sound like they're from someone much older.

by the time a curator tells us we have to go, we've completely lost Prentiss and Morgan and end up meeting back at the entrance. it's pitch black outside; Boston is still bustling, except my legs are tired and I'm ready to crash in bed. we have another packed day tomorrow.

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #dr. reid #criminal minds #mgg #fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #friends to lovers #BAU #slow burn

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Shelbys at Somme: Chapter 7

Thomas X Reader

2873

Summary: Reader gets medical treatment. Thomas is not ok.

by @adventuresintooblivion

They didn’t speak again until the Garrison Pub came into sight. Several men were milling about trying to figure out what the hell was going on. They parted with excited chatter craning their necks to see what Thomas was holding.

“Open the door! If you’re not helping, you’re in the way. Go home. We accomplished what we came here for tonight.” 

Only a handful of people remained. Most of them were the Shelbys themselves. Danny paced back and forth in the back of the bar murmuring to himself. Thomas nodded to the small room they conducted their business in. John hurriedly opened it enough for Thomas to set Y/N down on the table.

Y/N sat there swaying back and forth slightly, her eyes closed as she focused on not falling over. Moments later, Thomas draped his coat around her shoulders. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.  For the first time, she looked up at the people gathered around her.

Aunt Pol’s face was pale. A shawl was clutched in her hands with her hair unmade. John blinked blearily, but she could visibly see the fatigue drain away as he took stock of her injuries. Arthur simply wouldn’t look at her. 

Thomas hovered over her protectively. She could just barely see the redness on his cheek where she’d slapped him. His hand rested lightly against her lower back. She could feel his hand shaking even through all the layers.

“The doctor is on his way but there’s a few things I need to ask you before he gets here.” 

Y/N shook her head, “I want to talk to Pol first.”

He stiffened. “Excuse me?”

She lifted her head, leveling her gaze at him, “You heard me, Shelby. I want to talk to Pol first.”

“Did he touch you?” He growled almost under his breath. Something about him changed. His knuckles turned a stark white as they gripped the table. His lips pulled back in an inaudible snarl, eyes wide as he used every inch of self control he had left not to turn on his heels and find whoever had done this.

“Wha…?”

Thomas roared a tremor visibly running through his body, “Did he touch you!”

Understanding dawned on Y/N. She reached out to lay her hand on his. He recoiled. She leaned forward just enough to press her hand over his. Her skin was ice against his rage, but he did stop shaking once she rubbed her thumb across his knuckles. 

She spoke softly, “He didn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that I need to talk to Pol.”

He turned toward her, almost pressing his forehead into her shoulder. “I need answers.”

“And you’ll get them. After.”

Thomas locked eyes with her. Finally, he straightened and led his brothers out of the room.

Pol was left behind, her eyes wide as she adjusted her shawl. “That’s the first time I’ve seen Tommy listen to anyone when he’s like that.”

Y/N glanced down

“Well, you wanted me to yourself. Now what is it?”

“I think Grace is working for Inspector Campbell.” Y/N said it all in a rush, not trusting herself to actually speak if she took her time with it. 

Today, the inspector had wanted to instill fear in her and make her a useless pawn in this game of his. She hated to admit that she was in fact afraid. Of what she wasn’t sure, but she’d be damned if she let that decide her actions.

Pol cleared her throat. “That’s… a serious accusation. What is your proof?”

Y/N steeled herself before telling Pol everything. How she’d seen Grace at the opera, the little hints here and there that it wasn’t a place she’d normally be caught dead in. Then the great reveal of the man’s identity.

“I watched her hand him a piece of paper. I don’t know for certain that she is working for him, but it seems like the only logical answer, and at this point it’s dangerous to keep it to myself,” she finally finished.

The whole speech had taken a lot out of her, and she was already exhausted at best. Y/N pulled Thomas’ jacket closer around her, grateful that she was finally starting to warm up. At the edge of her senses, she caught a whiff of a smell that was distinctly Thomas. Stale cigarette smoke, aftershave, and hay. She almost smiled as she remembered the horses he loved so much.

Pol rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hands. “That’s a lot of information to deal with. Why haven’t you told Tommy?”

Y/N frowned, “Right now if I did he’d storm off to kill her. I’m not sure that’s the best idea. Hell, maybe turning her in and ending this now would be preferred. I just… I wanted to ask your opinion.”

Her head jerked up. “This is your business. I’ll have nothing to do with it.”

Y/N sighed, finally letting the exhaustion cause her to sag in on herself, “Well, fuck.” 

“I can’t believe you told me this. I won’t be caught complicit if he finds out,” she hissed.

“Pol, I’ve seen the way he looks at her. He likes her, even if it’s just a little, and with Thomas that means miles. This could destroy him. Or it could get one of them killed, and I don’t know if Grace worked at an opera house and just hates it from exposure and this is all some huge misunderstanding. I just don’t know.” Even to her ears Y/N sounded a bit hysterical.

Pol began to pace, thinking. Her heels clicked loudly on the floor, and even if the boys weren’t listening in they’d be able to hear that. After a few solid moments Pol rounded on the wounded girl.

She shook her finger at Y/N. “Listen here. For now, we say nothing. But if ANYTHING goes wrong and Grace is within ten miles of it, you tell him. Understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Alright, now let's get those boys in here. He’s probably about to strangle Arthur.”

As soon as the door knob clicked, Thomas stormed back in. His eyes were dark and cloudy as they traveled over Y/N’s exposed skin. Behind him, a small man with glasses shuffled in.

He spoke with a nasally voice, “Hello, I’m Doctor Tanish. Now if you could remove your coat I’d like to get to work.”

Y/N reluctantly shed the layer of warmth she’d built during her conversation Pol.

The doctor immediately swooped in, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Are there any pre-existing medical conditions I should know about?”

Y/N glanced at Thomas before turning to the doctor. “I have a bullet that’s lodged in my back that’s an inch to the left of my spine by vertebrae T11. They uh… found it and got me with a billy club. A couple times.”

He paused. “That’s very specific.”

“Yeah, well, you hear doctors say it enough eventually you can parrot it back if you need to.”

He nodded before continuing with this ministrations.

 Thomas, who was leaning against the wall, had turned a light shade of green when she spoke. His world was slowly closing in on him, a dark tunnel taking over his vision. It wasn’t until Arthur elbowed him that he was able to regain some control and return to the real world.

Eventually the doctor needed to see beneath Y/N’s underclothes. 

Pol shooed them out saying, “I’ll be right here with her. Let the girl keep some of her dignity.”

Thomas’ hand snaked out to grip hers firmly. “What did you two talk about?”

Pol’s lips settled into a thin line. “I will not betray her confidence. Just have faith, Tommy.”

He released her, allowing himself to be pushed back out into the pub with the others.

Arthur growled under his breath, “You’re gonna want a family meeting as soon as that doctor is done aren’t you?”

“Am I that predictable?”

He just grumbled and went to take a nap in one of the stalls. John soon followed suit, not really sure what his stakes were in all this. 

But Thomas sat at the bar nursing a glass of whiskey. He couldn’t make out much in the way of sounds. That’s why they like that room so much. There were a few moments when a yelp or shout would set him on edge. But all he could do was wait. 

It wasn’t until the sun had started to come up that the doctor slipped from the room, blood covering his hands. Thomas sat up straighter, not realizing just how much he’d drunk until he tried to stand.

“How is she?”

Doctor Tanish let out a tired sigh. “Exhausted. Most of the damage will heal itself just fine; however, there are a few spots that I am concerned about. Will you be taking care of her?”

Thomas was a gang leader. He didn’t have time to be coddling people while he was supposed to be out managing things.

“Yes.” 

Doctor Tanish nodded, pulled out a piece of paper and began to write. “She has three fractured ribs and another one that was popped out of socket, but it’s back now. Her toe was also broken; that’s been splinted. There was some minor internal bleeding, but that’s been addressed. The thing I’m most worried about is that bullet in her back.”

Bile rose on Thomas’ tongue. “Is it that bad?”

“Well, it was already something that could cause chronic pain and difficulty walking. Now that it’s been agitated, the muscles around it have swollen which would lead to temporary paralysis. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s up and around at all.” He tore the paper of a small notepad and handed it to Thomas, “I’ll have medication waiting to be picked up by the end of the day. I’d get it here earlier, but she insisted that she wouldn’t take opium. Under no circumstances let her walk.”

Thomas nodded dumbly, not exactly sure how to process all the information, but as the doctor left he glanced down at the paper. Detailed instructions were scrawled out in handwriting that was little better than chicken scratch. Luckily, John’s scrawl was also atrocious, and if Thomas could read that, he could read anything.

The door was left open. As he looked at it’s gaping maw, something inside him wanted to run. If he didn’t go in, she would once again become a ghost that haunted his memories. He wouldn’t have to face the words he’d said that night, or back then. 

He took a deep breath and walked in. Thomas was a Shelby after all.

〜

Y/N had stopped paying attention to the doctor a while ago. Between the war and her childhood, she’d gone through all this before. Pol on the other hand looked like she was having a rough time. At one point Y/N even caught herself reaching out to hold the older woman’s hand.

“It’s going to be fine, Pol.” Her voice didn’t even quiver.

Pol nearly jumped out of her skin. “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

Y/N flashed her a wicked grin. “Eh, getting hurt comes with the territory.”

“With knowing Tommy.” Pol’s gaze fell. A deep sadness had made a home for itself. It was in the small things. Her posture, her subtle frown, but most of all her eyes. Eyes that Y/N suspected had seen too many people die.

She gave a small tug to get Pol’s attention. “Actually, I was a bastard long before I met Thomas.” Pol’s brows furrowed so she continued, “Da wasn’t exactly a law abiding citizen. Hell, if I’d been a man I’d probably be in the same position as Thomas.”

A silence settled between them as they both came to terms with Y/N’s past. The doctor didn’t seem to care much about what was said around him. He only spoke to instruct Y/N to move. 

Finally Pol spoke, “While I don’t doubt the legitimacy behind your claim, you have,” she paused searching for the right words, “a certain level of education that isn’t typically available to people of our status.”

Y/N shrugged and immediately got scolded by the doctor. “Over-achieving bastard child. Not much else to it.”

Pol leveled her with a knowing gaze but enough had been shared that night. For the rest of the evening they either chatted idly or Pol dozed. The continuous attention was starting to wear Y/N out even beyond her limits.

She vaguely wondered if she was going soft after the war. Then she remembered that she’d been traipsing around town, got kidnapped, beat to hell and walked back on her own. Y/N allowed herself a small smile. Today was a productive day.

“It’ll take a couple months for your ribs and toe to heal but they’ll do it with little assistance. You must stay off your feet however. Especially if you ever want to walk again.” Doctor Tanish’s voice startled Y/N out of her thoughts.

She glanced at Pol’s dozing figure before replying, “I’ve beaten those odds before. But I’ll try not to push my luck.”

He gave her a curt nod and left.

Y/N glanced around the room, grimacing as she remembered that her flat was upstairs. She also had no way to pay for it now until she was healthy enough to work again.

A soft knock got her attention. There by the door was Thomas, peeking his head through as if he were walking into her bed chamber not his office.

“How are you holding up?” Deep circles had carved themselves underneath his eyes. His already drawn features took on a more extreme form in the dim candlelight.

Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off him. “I’m doing pretty well, all things considering. I might need help upstairs, though.”

Thomas cleared his throat before entering the room. He paused a moment to consider the best course of action. Then with little warning he simply picked her up. She bit back a startled yelp, clinging to Thomas as he moved easily with her in his arms.

“Tommy!” she hissed. Y/N couldn’t properly lift her arms to wrap them around him securely, so she clung to the front of his shirt with all she had. Her knuckles turned white instantly.

He simply chuckled. “I think that’s the first time you’ve called me ‘Tommy’ since you got back. Maybe I should pick you up more.”

Y/N could already feel her ears heating up. “Don’t try and distract me with flirting.”

“Why not? It usually works.”

She didn’t reply as they reached her room. With horror she realized that her key was still in the pocket of her jacket. Which was probably in the back of some copper’s car.

Thomas seemed to read her mind, “You don’t have the key anymore do you?”

She shook her head.

He gently set Y/N down, careful not to jostle her. Then produced a pair of lockpicks, making quick work of the shoddy lock. A few moments later Y/N was sinking into her mattress slowly. 

Thomas kneeled beside her. She couldn’t see him; the darkness clouded his features. He reached out, fingertips the barest touch against her skin, to brush her hair out of her face.

Y/N would later blame the overall shittiness of the day for what she did next. She leaned into the touch. Her own hand reached up to cup his and press it to her lips. Thomas froze. But he didn’t pull away.

“Y/N.” His voice was gravilier than usual.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but it felt like all the years that had been lost came back to life in seconds, all at once. Something between them had faded over time. Now was the first time either of them had actually reached back out for it. It was a tenderness they’d never let the world see. A secret of the trenches. A dream of what could be. 

Eventually, the spell broke, and she released her hold on him. At first he didn’t pull away. Then he stood, ending the moment all too quickly.

Thomas cleared his throat, “I...I need to head out. If I catch you on your feet, I swear I’ll send Aunt Pol after you.” 

Y/N chuckled, and pretended her smile was as genuine as she wanted it to be. “I’ll have to be careful and make sure you don’t catch me then.”

He rolled his eyes as he closed the door behind him.

Y/N let the darkness envelope her as she rolled onto her back. Her movements were stiff with pain. Exhaustion seeped into her joints and with Thomas gone there was nothing left to distract her. 

For the first time since it’d happened she let her mind wander over the events of the day, a sob ripped itself from her throat. Then another. She pressed the palm of her hand into her mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle herself. But Y/N couldn’t stop the tears from streaming like trails of fire down her cheeks.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #reader insert #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine

[too-attached-to-fiction]

Unstoppable | h.p.

Masterlist here

Word count: 1002

Requested by @hahaboop​

Request: Hey! If possible, could you write a Harry Potter imagine where the reader is from a different house but they bond when they’re paired for a project? Thank you :)

A/N: kind of changed this from a project to detention. This was originally a lot darker in my head but it turned into fluff as soon as I started writing them interacting together. I made the reader fem! Because of the professors addressing them but I’m actually curious to see if anything else will develop if i continue this…

~~~

The moment Dolores Umbridge sat down at the main table, you felt a chill roll down your spine. For most of the speech, you tuned her out, hoping that everything was only a nightmare. 

It wasn’t, though. 

During your first class with Umbridge, you finally had enough. “Professor?” You asked, trying to keep your voice calm. 

“Yes, (L/N)?” 

“I understand the theory is important, but what happens when we complete the book? If we are expected to read a chapter per class, we would still have a multitude of classes before we’re due to take our O.W.L.s.”

She gave you a sickly sweet smile that made you want to gag. “Then we will read them again until you can execute them perfectly. Yes, (L/N)?” Your hand was raised again. 

“How can we execute them without practice? Surely that is required of the governmental curriculum-” 

“Please do not question the curriculum.” 

“What good will the theory do in the real world? A spell cannot be perfectly executed within the first try. We’ve seen this demonstrated in our Charms and Transfiguration classes, but what will happen when someone tries to kill us?” 

“Kill you? Why would anyone do that?” 

The whole class was staring at you wide-eyed. Your best friends tugged on your shirt, trying to get you to sit down. 

“Death Eaters. Voldemort.” You said, ignoring the gasps around the room. Umbridge’s smile only grew wider. 

“I expected a Ravenclaw to know better than that. Dark wizards are not at large again.” 

“Then who killed Cedric Diggory?” You questioned, nearly yelling now. “Who? The ministry? Himself?” 

“Detention and ten house points, Miss (L/N). I’d advise you to keep your mouth shut unless you want to risk another, or more house points.” 

“You can try to deny the truth. You can try to follow the Ministry blindly, as a good little witch with nothing but a single ounce of common sense. But in the end, you will always be remembered as the villain of history.” You growled, balling your fists. “You will always be remembered as an idiotic, dictatorship-loving, snivelling bitch-” 

“That’s enough, Miss (L/N).” Umbridge’s eyes went dark. “Do not speak to your superiors in that tone.” 

You fumed, sticking one fist in the air and flipping her the bird. She gasped, but her smile returned only seconds later. “You will have detention for a week starting this evening. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes, Professor.” You grinned innocently. 

~~~

Miraculously, you landed detention with Umbridge even before Harry Potter had. Flitwick had merely shaken his head at you, although you were convinced there was a spark of pride in his eyes. 

You kept getting detentions with Umbridge the first two weeks, and soon enough, Harry joined you. It seemed she hated him as much as you, requesting he write the same line over and over until it was permanently etched in the back of his hand. 

You didn’t like it either, but you were forced to write your own phrase over and over again.

On the third night of that week’s detention, you exited the classroom with Harry. You felt faint, but you pressed on, walking with him along the hall. 

“Awful, isn’t it?” You said softly. “Can I see your hand?” 

He looked up and down the hall before stopping. “Alright.” He held out his hands, the bloody words looking worse and worse. 

“She’s rotten.” You shook your head. “Come with me.” 

You led him to a window seat, then got to work, pulling out a small bottle and bandages. 

“Hydrogen peroxide? I thought that was only a muggle medicine-” Harry started to say, and you put a finger to his lips. 

“We have to be quiet. It’ll hurt a little.” You said, dabbing the liquid gently on his hand. He let out a hiss but quieted when you glared at him. 

“Believe it or not, muggles do know a thing or two about medicine.” You whispered, grabbing the tape and bandages and wrapping up his hand. “We can’t get caught. Watch out for both of us.” 

Once you were finished, you looked down at your handiwork. 

“What about you?” He asked, and you smiled. 

“I’ve been through worse.” You whispered, patting his hand. “A little blood won’t kill me.” 

“But-” 

“I’ll be alright.” You promised. “Now come on, we need to go back to our dorms.” 

The routine continued for the next two evenings. On Friday night, he looked at you. “Are you sure you don’t need any help-” 

“You worry too much about a stranger.” You smiled, quickly wrapping up his hand. “Stay out of trouble, and I will too.” 

“Maybe one day we can talk without coming back from detention.” He suggested, and you nodded. 

“As you wish.” You winked at him. “Come, I heard Gryffindor held the try outs today. I bet your house is celebrating.” 

For the next few weeks, you tried not to think of Harry. You barely saw him anyways, and you knew Cho was trying to go after him. So you stepped back, until you were invited to the first D.A. meeting. 

“What did you think?” He asked hopefully. 

“It sounds like a great idea.” 

“I hope that means I can see you more. I never got to repay you for helping me after those detentions.” The normally confident boy looked at you with a shy smile. 

“All you need to do is ask.” You returned his smile with a shy grin of your own. 

“Brilliant. I’ll see you next meeting, then?” 

“It’s a date.” You nodded, walking off to meet with your friends.

Ron snickered, patting Harry on the back. “Got a crush?” 

“Sod off.” Harry laughed, pushing Ron away. His friend only laughed more, before looking back and yelling at Hermione to hurry up. 

He hoped you returned his feelings, but that was a question for another day. You were in this fight now, and together, you and Harry were going to be unstoppable. 

#harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x reader #hp imagines #requested #no beta we die like men

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 2

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~2,300

Warnings: None

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

Start from the beginning   Next Chapter   Read on AO3   Masterlist

Lilah slid into a chair and regarded the lovers. Kate was sitting in Richie’s lap, rolling her eyes as he pressed intermittent kisses on her cheeks and neck. She’d grown used to their easy affection since the brothers had saved Kate from Amaru. For the first few days, Richie had hardly let go of Kate’s hand, would go where she went, snarling at anyone who came a little too close. Even now, he didn’t go very long without touching her, no matter the situation—a hand on her thigh, a the small of her back, toying with her hair. Kate seemed to take it all in stride, a soft smile that somehow made her look impossibly young.

It was Kate’s eyes that Lilah noticed first when she’d stepped through the doors of Jackknife Jed’s.  They flashed with gloom, aging her in a way that in no way reflected in her actual face. Looking at her made Lilah feel so disjointed that she still struggled to hold the younger woman’s gaze. Still, despite the unease, Lilah liked Kate. She certainly made dealing with the ever-arguing brothers just a little bit easier. Lilah couldn’t so easily be out-voted any more, and that was worth the disquiet she sometimes felt in Kate’s presence.

The door to the office flung open, Seth barreling through with no regard for how it hit the shelf behind it, a few of Richie’s knickknacks shaking in their stands. He was wiping sweat from his brow, his ever present frown just a little deeper than normal. Lilah’s eyes narrowed as she watched him come closer.

“Hey, watch the merchandise,” Richie called out, one hand lifting from around Kate’s middle to gesture broadly at the memorabilia.

Fandom was the one thing that Lilah and Richie really agreed on. They’d spent a lot of time on stake outs talking Star Trek, and then Firefly, followed by a whole host of niche geeky topics. He was surprisingly insightful about the little details that made each show unique. And, Lilah had spent a lot of time in hotels watching old B horror movies to be able to hold her own when he went down a rabbit hole.  It made the fact that she disagreed with him about the tenants of Jedi life acceptable, in his mind.

“We’ve got bigger problems than Obi Wan’s lightsaber, Richie.”

Seth was definitely in a mood. He might not understand Richie’s interests, and he might roll his eyes when his brother went on a tangent about canon timelines, but he at least respected Richie’s belongings enough that he didn’t intentionally screw around with them. This, whatever it was, was serious. Lilah eyed him narrowly, waiting.

Eyes vaguely betrayed, Richie muttered, “Its Mace Windu.”

Kate patted Richie’s arm lightly, saying, “What’s the problem?”

Rounding his desk, Seth sat heavily. After a deep sigh, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, tossing it on the desk in front of him. It bounced, making a soft ‘shhh’ sound as it slid across the pressed wood of the tabletop.

“We got a message today,” he explained, “And I don’t know what to make of it.”

Lilah leaned forward and plucked it up with two fingers. The paper was a heavy vellum, thick woven. She unfolded it, curious. The ink was a deep red, the lettering thick. As she brought it closer to read, Lilah caught a fragrance that had followed her in the weeks since their last failed mission.

Oh, no.

The letter was meticulously worded. The writing thick and bold, swirling softly around the crosses. Formal. Elegant. Commanding. Brasa.

Lilah read and re-read it, “He’s asking for peace.”

She looked at Seth, brows lifted in surprise. Then, she stood, stepped to Richie’s desk, and handed it to the younger brother. All the while, she tried to keep her face as neutral as possible. Lilah was grateful that Seth never bothered with the overhead lights, that only the lamps on either desk illuminated the room.  Her face was hot, her hands shaking. She didn’t know how to stand so as to draw no attention to herself while she internally panicked.

“He’s playing a game,” Seth said as he opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a bottle, yanking out the stopper, and drinking straight from it. “Its a trap.”

Richie took a few moments to read the letter before Kate took it from him. She stood and read it, as well. Lilah watched her face, trying to discern her reaction. Kate chewed her thumbnail as her eyes flicked over the page, her brows together. A shadow passed over her expression.

“No,” Kate uttered so low that Lilah almost didn’t hear it, “He’s really asking for peace.”

Lilah didn’t have the time to think about how she might know that, or the implications. Or, how she might feel about those implications.

Seth scoffed, “How the fuck do you know that?”

Setting the letter down on Richie’s desk, Kate shrugged, “I spent a lot of time with him when I was...when she was inside me.” She sniffed, “Even though Amaru thought they were bullshit, he obeys the old laws. This is a formal call for peace talks. He’s written it in his own blood.”

Lilah felt her eyes widen, shocked that Kate could tell whose blood was on the paper. Shocked even further that someone would write a letter in their literal blood. Shocked still further that she cared how he might have procured his own blood in enough supply to write such a letter.

There were a few side effects from Kate’s possession, little quirks that Kate would sometimes display without really thinking. She’d stand up way too fast, know who might walk through the door next, hear conversations from the next room. Lilah did her best to just roll with it, but this was a little bit too freaky for Lilah’s normal ‘roll with it’ sensibilities. She deliberately set it aside, hoping that she wouldn’t need to examine the thought later.

Richie lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke through his nose, “Why now? We’ve spent the last six months fighting and killing each other, and now he wants to talk peace.”

Lilah sat down, folding her hands in her lap as she tried very hard not to think this was about her. She could not be so self-centered as to think that Brasa would give up a war just because she happened to be on the other side. A war he was, by all accounts, winning as the Gecko’s ceded more and more territory to the culebras he seemed to govern.  There had to be another explanation. A trap, maybe, a false sense of security.

“Alright,” Seth drawled, “We get him in a room and gank him.”

Kate gasped, looking horrified, “We have a chance to get real progress, here. Do you want to fight forever?”

Lilah definitely knew the answer to that question. Seth’s entire life was a fight—physical or otherwise. He wasn’t comfortable if there wasn’t some sort of conflict to battle through, his brother at his side. Even if they achieved peace, he’d be at someone’s throat within twenty four hours. It was both endearing and utterly frustrating to watch him cycle through the same motions over and over.

Seth rose, leaning his hands on the desk, “You, more than anyone, have a reason to want every one of those snakes dead.”

Sneering, Kate crossed her arms, “I, more than anyone, have a reason to want all of this to stop. I don’t want to see any more death.”

Behind her, Richie shifted uneasily in his chair. Lilah took each of them in, knowing there was far more history than she was privy to playing out right in front of her. It left her feeling like she couldn’t make a good decision, didn’t have enough data to create a strategy. This was not her preferred method of moving through life. She remained still, waiting.

“We should meet with him,” Kate asserted, hip cocking to the side.

It was not a rare occasion that Kate would insist that they act in a certain way. She had a strong moral compass that clashed with the brothers’ more criminal predilections. More often than not, Kate centered them, kept them from going too far. Lilah was grateful. She had never been successful in stemming off their momentum, once they got started.

“Absolutely not,” Seth shot back, his mouth a firm line.

Lilah surprised herself by adding, “I agree with Seth.”

Richie stubbed out his cigarette, “I’m with Kate.”

This was not surprising. Richie tended to side with Kate on most things. Lilah caught the look he sent Kate, though Kate was still looking at Seth. His eyes were following the line of her petite body, admiring in a way that made Lilah look away, embarrassed.

Seth circled his desk, leaning his hip against it, “Two against two. How’re we going to break the tie?”

There was a beat of silence, then Richie stood and offered up his fist, “Best out of three?”

When Richie beat Seth two to one, Seth gave him a hardy ‘fuck you’ and strode from the room. Richie heaved a beleaguered sigh and followed him. Lilah dropped her head in her hands, boggled by the decision making skills of her partners. Rock, paper scissors...honestly.

“Why don’t you want to meet with them?”

Lilah lifted her eyes at the question, feeling her chest constrict, “I won’t have to do the actual meeting, Kate.” Lie, lie, lie, Lilah, “I just don’t think we’ll be successful.”

Kate tilted her head to the side, “You think its a trap?”

Lilah grabbed onto that line of thinking. It was logical, far more logical than ‘No, Kate. I just don’t want to meet up with someone who claims I am his bondmate and with whom I have exchanged blood’. Even in her head, it sounded so incredibly stupid. Not to mention the fact that she’d been hiding it long enough that admitting it would only lead to suspicion.

“I think Seth is too hot headed,” Lilah clarified quickly, “I think that it’ll fall apart before it even gets started.”

There, that was a convincing lie that was pretty grounded in enough truth that even Lilah half believed it. She very carefully did not study Kate’s face to see if the lie had landed.

Kate moved closer, her ancient gaze peering at Lilah carefully, “You’re right.”

Oh. Okay.

“Thank you.”

“You need to go with them.”

Ah, fuck.

“What?”

Kate nodded, her expression hardening, “You go with them, keep things level, make this work.”

“Me?” Lilah didn’t like how high her voice came out. She cleared her throat, “No, you know them better than I do. You go. Bring me whatever contract they draw up, I’ll red line it, make sure its fair.”

That was her role. Look over the game plan, find the flaws, work out the kinks. In that, Lilah was comfortable and safe. No need to put herself back in a room with Brasa. No need to let this get even more out of hand. No need for the messiness that would come from that.

Shaking her head, Kate took a step back, “I can’t. I can’t face him. What I did to him was,” she searched for words, “terrible.”

The sudden turn of Kate’s tone, the way her face screwed up in real disgust, made Lilah sit up and stake notice. Where had this come from?

She inhaled, trying to parse the words, “What does that mean?”

Kate’s eyes were focused on the middle distance, her mouth quivering, “Amaru loved torture, all kinds of torture. She didn’t care who it was that she hurt. I—she liked,” Another breath, “Brasa was blood bound to her, she could make him do things, do anything. She never got her hands dirty, but him…”

Lilah waited for more, but Kate simply stopped speaking. She looked shell shocked, tears welling up. God, but Lilah had been completely fooled by Kate’s frequent smiles and clear headedness. She hadn’t known how much trauma the hell queen had put Kate through, hadn’t even thought that Kate was conscious of the things that she’d done while trapped inside her own body. Moved to action, she stood and embraced Kate, saying to her the only comfort she could think to give.

“Its the past. And, it wasn’t you.” Then, “Are you still blood bound?”

She felt like real shit for asking, but she needed to know what Brasa’s relationship was with Kate, and if it would make their own relationship (did they even have a relationship?) more complicated. Kate made a soft sound in the negative and Lilah let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. That was one complication she had, thankfully, avoided.

Kate’s body was taut, “When she first brought me back, when I met him, I felt the power I had over him. And, she abused it. I drained him dry that first night, to regain her strength. After three days, when he managed to stand up off the ground, she did it again. Because she could.” Kate pulled back and looked at Lilah, “That wasn’t even the worst of it. How can I look him in the eye after all that?”

Lilah shook her head, “Like I said, it wasn’t you. And, if he really wants to talk peace, he’ll set it aside. If not, fuck ‘im.”

That, at least, was the truth. Lilah had been fighting his kind of less than a year and she was tired of it. She wanted peace. She wanted to go on nice, normal jobs—jewel theft, a bank heist, possibly even some fine art that they could sell on the black market. Stuff that was in her wheelhouse, in her comfort zone. If he was going to hold Kate responsible for the actions of Amaru, then he wasn’t worth negotiating with. Full stop.

Kate loosed a soundless laugh, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

#from dusk til dawn #from dusk til dawn: the series #brasa #In the Bond

[princess-of-riviaa]

Bewitching the Witcher Part 5

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Summary: Your sickness plays its last hand. As Geralt rushes to save you, will anyone’s efforts be enough to keep you alive? Or is this where you meet your death?

Series summary: You and The Witcher aren’t meant to be together. In fact, the only thing you two should be doing is getting as far away from each other as fast as you can. You shouldn’t. You really fucking shouldn’t. But he’s just too tempting to resist.

Author’s note: This is the final chapter in my first series for The Witcher fandom, and also my first series that I’ve written on tumblr. When I wrote the first part to this I never imagined that the story concept would get as much love as it did. So thank you everyone who has read to this point. SIDENOTE: this part doesn’t contain smut. It’s written purely for the plot. However, the parts prior to this chapter all contain plenty of Geralt love, and I will also be writing more oneshots/headcanons for both the infamous Witcher and his Bard.

You knew it was the last day of your life, but you kept that knowledge to yourself. If you brought it up to either of the protective bastards you’d come to love in the last six months, they wouldn’t let you enjoy it. And you’d be damned if you didn’t enjoy the hell out of your last day on earth.

So you didn’t bother to elaborate when you asked Geralt to make his famous roasted pork. He hunted down a worthy animal in less than twenty minutes and cooked it slowly over the fire, just how you liked it.

And you didn’t let Jaskier evade you when you cornered him in the woods and asked him the question that had been burning a hole in your brain for weeks: “Why did you never try to fuck me?”

Of course, you enjoyed the way his entire body seemed to go red as a tomato in a matter of seconds. “W-what?”

You rolled your eyes at his innocent facade. “Oh, please. You’ve groped everything that breathes. You’ve lied with every woman from Cintra to Nilfgard. So why didn’t you ever try to sleep with me?”

He looked everywhere but directly at you.

“Do you not think I’m beautiful, Jaskier?” You almost laughed at your own question. You hadn’t seen a mirror in a few weeks, though you had no doubt that you resembled a skeleton more than a living, breathing person. You’d never been further from beautiful than at this moment.

But you remembered who you used to be, when the Witcher blood ran strong in your veins. You’d been the perfect height--tall enough to look down on most people but not too gangly--with legs for miles. Your muscled body had curves in all the right places. Your breasts had been huge, your ass even bigger. Eyes followed you wherever you went, as did a line of drooling men. Back when you’d been a goddess of beauty, you hadn’t cared about any of it. Now you longed for it.

“Of course you were, Y/N,” Jaskier replied, then quickly added, “I mean, of course you are. Are, not were.”

“Just tell me why, then,” you pushed.

He laughed, clearly uncomfortable, though he knew you weren’t going to drop it. “Honestly?”

You nodded.

Jaskier kicked the fallen leaves and small tree branches at his feet, still avoiding your gaze. “I used to tell myself it was because you’d probably cut my manhood off if I tried anything.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you. Jaskier had once been terrified to get within five feet from you. Now, of course, he was like your protective, annoying older brother. That might have been the one good thing that had come out of your sickness: your newfound relationship with the ridiculously talented bard.

“I wouldn’t have gone that far,” you finally got out, still grinning at him.

He shrugged. “I know.”

“So that wasn’t the real reason,” you realized.

Jaskier finally brought his blue eyes back to yours. “No.”

You sighed. “Don’t make me beg for it, Jas!”

He hesitated. Then, “Because I knew--even from the night Geralt and I first ran into you and you tried to kill him and nearly did--I knew that you were his. You were always his, Y/N, and he was always yours. I’ve never believed in soul mates. I actually think that concept is complete bullshit. We get to choose who we love in this life, that’s what I believe. But you and Geralt... if there’s a better word than soul mates to describe the two of you, then I don’t know it.”

Oh.

You hadn’t been expecting that. Not from Jaskier. Not now--not today.

“Is that a good enough answer for you?” Jaskier wondered, breaking the silence.

All you could do was nod.

...

You convinced Geralt to take you on a hunt. There was no better way to end your last day alive than by killing a monster. And so, after an hour of pleading and convincing, he finally agreed, though probably just so you would shut up about it.

It didn’t take long for you two to find a creature roaming through the woods: a berserker. You found it ironic. On another hunt for a different berserker in a different mountain range during a simpler time, you and Geralt had finally revealed your feelings for each other. A berserker had started all of this. It was only poetic that a berserker would end all of this, too.

But before you could even strike the killing blow to the creature, your nose began dripping. Geralt beheaded the monster for you, much to your annoyance. You wiped your nose with the back of your hand. Geralt’s eyes widened when he glanced back at you. You didn’t have a chance to ask him what was wrong before you were doubled over in a coughing fit. When you pulled your hand away from your mouth, it was stained with blood.

Your nose was bleeding.

You were coughing up blood.

You didn’t have to be a medic to know that your time was just about up.

Geralt, on the other hand, wasn’t about ready to accept it so easily. In a flash you were in his arms and he was running back to your makeshift camp. He didn’t even explain himself to Jaskier before throwing you over Roach and climbing onto the horse behind you. Roach ran like he was desperate to save you, too.

You arrived at the nearest town in a matter of minutes. Geralt carried you in his arms, screaming wildly in the streets for a medic. Finally one approached you. Geralt followed after him.

All you were concerned about was the horrid, metallic smell of your blood. You were covered in it now. You’d also managed to dampen Geralt’s clothes with it, too. If he didn’t always wear all black, his clothes would have been stained.

You laughed at the thought, though it wasn’t particularly funny. Both you and Geralt knew it was a hysterical laugh; your time was down to minutes now.

“Hold on, Y/N,” Geralt muttered to you. He spoke so softly you could barely hear him. “Hold on for me.”

You stared at him as he carried you in his arms. Something hit you, then. The infamous Witcher, the wild beast of a man that Jaskier had written about and made famous throughout the land--most people feared him because he resembled a monster more often than he resembled a man. But with the fear in his eyes right now he looked so... human.

Your fingers were moving through his hair before you’d even realized you’d told your hand to move. “You’re so beautiful, Geralt. Such a beautiful human.”

“Y/N...” There was a warning in his voice, though you couldn’t figure out what he was warning you about.

“It’s okay, my love.” He had to know you were okay, that there was no better place for you in the entire world than in his arms, feeling his Witcher heart beat slowly against your head. “My love... you’re my love, Geralt.”

The world faded around you. All you could see was a man in the distance--a gloriously beautiful man. His dark hair was clipped short and his shining blue eyes looked longingly at a woman just a few paces from him. The girl’s blonde hair flowed in the wind, circling her tiny body.

The girl was--the girl was you. You, as a human. You, with no Witcher blood inside of you.

And the man who looked at you like you were the center of his universe--

That man was Geralt. Human Geralt.

You tried to cry out to him, to get his attention, to say something, but you had no voice. All you could do was watch as the Human You neared Human Geralt and looped your hands together. He kissed the top of your head and you swear you could feel it on your own head, your Witcher head. And then Human You and Human Geralt walked side by side until you disappeared in the distance, never needing to look back because all you needed was right beside you.

You wanted that, you realized. You wanted a long life with Geralt. More than you wanted to be a Witcher. More than you’d ever wanted anything.

You wanted him.

You wanted to be happy because of him.

You wanted him to be happy because of you.

And you’d be damned if you weren’t willing to fight tooth and nail to get that happy ending.

...

The medic told Geralt and Jaskier that you were dead before the medic could have tried to save you with a potion or elixir. The news made Jaskier erupt into a screaming fit, only occasionally broken up by a painful wail. Geralt, by contrast, became still as a statue. He didn’t move for several minutes. Those long minutes eventually stretched into hours. The night passed. Still, he never left your bedside, despite your body growing colder with every passing minute.

“G-Geralt,” Jaskier finally dared to speak up in the first light of dawn.

He didn’t reply. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t do anything but stare at your body like his gaze could bring you back to him.

Jaskier called his name again. “She deserves...” He swallowed back a hiccup before beginning to sniffle. “She deserves a proper burial.”

Geralt didn’t even acknowledge Jaskier’s presence.

Jaskier moved towards your body on the other side of the bed. Finally, Geralt broke out of his trance. He jumped up and threw his arms around you, cradling you into his chest. Jaskier froze. Geralt’s gold eyes were wild and frantic, his sharp teeth blaring, and Jaskier knew that Geralt would kill him before he could get his hands on you. The Witcher resembled an untamed beast claiming his territory. Jaskier wasn’t about to get in the middle of it.

Jaskier left once the sun had fully appeared in the sky, off to get food for him and Geralt and--though he didn’t include this part--to get flowers for your corpse. Months ago, he’d heard you say that lilies were your favorite, so he went off in search of those.

Geralt remained by your side.

It was surprising, in the end, how your witcher had failed to notice anything changing within or outside of your body. His Witcher senses picked up nothing--not the first beat of your heart, a heart which now beat as fast as a human’s and not a Witcher’s; not the way the heat returned to your skin, bringing a pale color with it, brightening your cheeks and reddening your lips; not even the way your eyelids began to flutter like you were dreaming.

In fact, he was oblivious until Jaskier returned and pointed out that you looked eerily far off from dead. That you looked like you were alive and breathing and--

And that you no longer looked like a Witcher. The physical improvements that had transformed your body after you’d passed the witching test--the longer legs, the muscles that rarely tired, the nimble limbs that allowed you to move as fast as the speed of light--were gone.

Geralt watched you with a frozen awareness, waiting for--for something. He didn’t seem to know what to expect. Neither did Jaskier, which became obvious when he squeaked and moved to the corner of the room upon seeing your eyes open.

Your Witcher eyes had been silver. Not gray, not a soft shade of blue, but silver. They’d glowed as ominously as Geralt’s gold ones did.

But now, the eyes that blinked up at the two people you loved most in the world were an undeniable shade of jade green.

Neither Geralt nor Jaskier moved, unsure if you were a ghost or the undead or what.

They watched, Geralt’s hand moving to hover over the dagger strapped to his side, as you lifted yourself into a sitting position. The room was deathly quiet as you took in everything around you. You must have been staying in an infirmary, which you guessed from the sight of a million tiny jars of potions and healing ointments on the table beside your bed. That was the only decoration in the room besides the bed that you currently occupied. It was completely impersonal.

Your eyes flicked to Geralt. It was strange and unexpected, the feeling of terror that crashed through you. You’d only ever known him as a Witcher yourself, and the sight of another mutant like you hadn’t scared you. But now... now your heart was beating fast, and that was human fear running through your veins. Still, despite the warning signs in your mind screaming for you to run from him, you took in the sight of him with relief. Geralt. Your Geralt. Your Witcher.

You never thought you’d see him again.

The tears blurring his gold eyes were the only sign of his relief. His hand still hovered over his weapon, always cautious. There were deep, dark circles under his eyes from the stressful eighteen hours he’d just endured. But he’d never looked more beautiful to you.

You forced yourself to look away from him and turned towards Jaskier. The satchel at his side was full, probably stuffed with bread and cheese and cheap wine for him and Geralt. Orange lilies were crumpled in his hand as he took in the sight of you--very much alive, when you hadn’t been the last time he’d seen you.

“Those flowers are beautiful,” you said. Your voice sounded strange even to your own ears. Not as loud or as demanding; it no longer contained the strength of a Witcher. “But I don’t think they’ll be any good funeral. Perhaps a wedding?”

“You’re... alive.” There was no connotation in Geralt’s voice, the shock too great for him to generate a tone of voice.

You smiled at your Witcher. “I’m alive, my love.”

“H-how?” He blinked his tears away, though a few slipped down his cheeks. You resisted the urge to wipe them away. “The medic, he said you--”

“That Witcher we found a week ago,” you said, a thoughtful frown on your face, “her words finally make sense to me.”

The men just blinked at you, unable to follow along.

You closed your eyes, remembering the words of that ancient Witcher: “The only cure for my sickness is death.” The men were still frowning at you when you looked back at them. “I had to die before I could get better. Death wasn’t the sentence; it was the antidote.”

“You’re... better?” Jaskier asked, looking doubtful.

You looked between the men. “Well, that depends on your perspective, I think.” You looked down at your hands, thin and bony and small--not Witcher hands. “I’m no longer a Witcher. I’m human.”

Geralt sniffed. You looked to him, thinking he’d begun crying, and realized that he was sniffing the air--for your human scent. He paused when it hit him. His eyes went wide. “You are human.”

You hesitated. “Does that... disgust you?”

He didn’t answer with words, but rather with a quick kiss to your mouth. He held you tight against him, his arm wrapped so tightly around you that you could no longer breathe, but you didn’t dare ask him to stop. His mouth moved against yours, every touch a declaration of his relief.

Jaskier cleared his throat.

You two broke apart, looking over at the bard.

“So you’re just... you’re okay now?” He asked you. “You’re not sick?”

“I don’t think so, though I’m not sure,” you admitted. “But I think my Witcher magic was enough to fight the sickness. I think, now that I don’t have my magic anymore, I don’t have the sickness either.”

“So you’ll be okay?” Jaskier’s eyes widened hopefully.

You let yourself smile. “Yes. I’ll be okay.” You looked back at Geralt, whose eyes had never left your face. “Geralt, I’m human.”

He smiled back at you as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “So I’m hearing.”

He wasn’t getting it. “We can be together now.”

He frowned, the realization finally hitting him. “We can be together.” It came out as more of a question than a statement.

You looped an arm around his neck and pulled him back against you, giving his mouth a whisper of a kiss. “Marry me, Geralt.”

He pulled back, surprised. “W-what?”

“I want to be with you,” you said. “I want to spend every second for the rest of my human life by your side. I want to be yours--and I want you to be mine. So marry me.”

He laughed. “I never imagined myself being married.”

“Well you should start,” you told him as you slowly rose to your feet, unsure how stable your human body was. “Because I want to marry you. Not in a year, not in a month. Now. I want to marry you today, Geralt.” You pointed at the orange lilies in Jaskier’s hand. “And I want those to be the flowers I carry down the aisle with me.”

#geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x you #geralt imagine #jaskier #jaskier the witcher #the witcher #netflix the witcher #geralt the witcher #bewitching the witcher #the witcher series #the witcher tv show #jaskier imagine

[smytimagine]

Part III | Surprise Visitors

We get some other character’s perspectives in this chapter!

Warnings: Mild swearing

Word Count: 3,442

A/N: I’m in the middle of writing other chapters but I can’t decide, does Y/N end up with Grayson… or Ethan?!

part 1 part 2

Thank God the next day was Saturday, and although that didn’t mean a whole lot since I usually spent the day with the twins anyway, today was different.

I spent the whole night curled up in my bed watching chick flicks and ignoring Ethan’s persistent calls and texts. To be fair, I felt bad and had at least let him know I made it home safely but didn’t respond after that. It’s not like it was Ethan’s fault, he didn’t know about Grayson’s new girlfriend either, but I couldn’t tell Ethan how I felt if I wasn’t even sure how I felt.

Grayson had always been my best friend. When I moved out to LA from Connecticut the twins were the first real friends I had made. I had prior experience as a personal assistant to very wealthy CEO’s at large companies, and a recruiter had seen my resume and asked me if I was interested in a position with two clients who were social media moguls. I had no idea who the twins were when I met them, as I suppose I wasn’t their target demographic. I was 3 years older than them and had no idea what vine even was, never mind that they had blown up on the app. I guess you could say I wasn’t the trendiest teen back then. 

The three of us had hit it off right away, probably because I treated them like normal people, I never put them on a pedestal. I wasn’t blind to how girls looked at them, I was even an unwilling target to some online slander from people who wanted to pin me to one of them. But it was never like that. We truly were just best friends, until now.

As I sat in my bed debating if I was ever going to crawl out of this mess of blankets and sheets, I wasn’t sure where I stood with the twins. Of course, I would always be professional when it came to work, but I now felt this awkwardness around Grayson. What was Ethan hinting at when he told Grayson he needed to tell me about his girlfriend? Why would they think I needed to know? Grayson didn’t owe me anything. Was there some kind of secret behind my back about me liking Grayson? Because certainly, I had never implied that, or at least I don’t think I did? Ethan would never go behind my back and make something like that up, so I wasn’t sure where any of this stemmed from.

______________

Noon rolled around and I finally pulled myself together enough to drag my ass out of bed and into the kitchen for some food. Still drowning in Ethan’s sweatshirt and a pair of PJ shorts I had thrown on.

“Well it’s about damn time,” a deep voice said from behind me

I jumped and threw my back against the fridge, I held a knife stabbed halfway through an avocado in my hand, looking towards my couch to see a mop of dark hair facing away from me towards the wall of windows

“ETHAN WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” I screamed

“We have a spare key in case of emergencies Y/N. After you texted me you were home last night you never answered any of my other attempts to talk. I was genuinely worried about you. I came over around 3 am and saw you sleeping in bed surrounded by tissues. I decided I would sleep on the couch and be here when you woke up, I didn’t want you to be alone. I texted you that, but apparently, you decided to just let your phone die. Now please, put down the knife, that avocado isn’t very threatening ” Ethan laughed as he made his way towards me.

My heart melted. Here I was wasting the day away feeling sorry for myself when this man in front of me came over just to see if I was okay and then slept here in case I needed anything. What the hell did I do to deserve him?

I didn’t say anything, I tossed the knife on the counter and walked towards Ethan, I tucked my head into his chest and felt him wrap his arms around me. He pecked the top of my head and rubbed his hands slowly up and down my back. We stood silently in the embrace for a while.

“I’m okay E, to be honest, I’m not even sure why I was so upset. I told you before there was nothing going on between Gray and me, and now it’s just proof.” I said softly

“Y/N, you may not have thought there was anything, but there was - there is. I saw it, the guys all saw it. To be honest, you weren’t the only one let down last night. After the guys left they all texted me bummed out about the whole situation. There is absolutely no one who is as perfect for Gray as you. Literally, everyone around you guys can see that”

I felt myself smile into Ethan’s chest at his kind words, it felt nice that everyone thought so highly of me. That they all thought that I was good enough for their best friend and brother. But at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. He had a girlfriend, and she wasn’t me.

I pulled away from him with his hands still resting on my shoulders. I tried to change the subject, as anything would be a better conversation than this.

“So, what should we do today Etee?” I smirked as I teased him. He hated that nickname and I knew it, but it was cute.

Ethan sighed at my use of his name, “Well, Mom and Cam are coming into town today actually, I’m supposed to pick them up in a few hours. Do you want to come?”

I loved the twin’s family. Their sister was my age and so much fun to gang up on the boys with. Their mom Lisa was the best. She was super supportive of everything the boys did and would even check up on me once in a while. My mom had never been exactly present in my life, so in a way, she helped to fill the void.

“Is that even a question?!” I asked, suddenly feeling my mood shift to pure excitement.

“I thought you might like that, we have to pick them up around 2:30, it’s going to take us an hour to get there from here, so you better get your ass in the shower because you fucking stink,” He said, pulling his head to the side implying he was trying to escape me.

“Oh, fuck you, dude. I absolutely do not stink, and even if I did, it’s your sweatshirt, which means you’re the stinky one” I scoffed at him, smirked, then turned to head down the hall towards the shower.

______________

Ethan POV

I watched Y/N walk away and head towards the bathroom, my eyes inspecting every inch of her body. She was perfect. She had absolutely no idea how perfect she actually was. I couldn’t stand the fact that my idiot brother had this perfect of a woman pining for him and decided to ignore her for someone else.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother. He’s my best friend. But he can be a real idiot. The thing is, I’m not even sure he knows Y/N is crazy for him. In fact, Y/N doesn’t even know she’s crazy about him, but everyone else knows. They are so perfect for each other it makes me want to vomit out of jealousy. Someday I want to find someone as perfect as she is, though I know it will be a challenge.

I told her my mom and sister were coming into town today, and they are. But, I might have left out the part that I called them late last night and asked them to come. I explained what happened at the fire and when they agreed to come, I booked them on the next available flight out here.

They loved Y/N as much as Grayson and I did. My mom thought of her as her own, considering Y/N’s mom wasn’t the best. She left when Y/N was little and calls her once in a while when she runs low on money. Grayson and I have been throwing extra cash into her paychecks to cover it. We told her it was a pay raise, which part of it was, but we doubled it and if Y/N knew she would kill us. She never asks for anything, never expects anything, and never tries to inconvenience anyone. Her dad has always tried his best, but he works a lot and isn’t sure how to relate to her as a grown woman. Over the last two years, she has become more of a Dolan than a Y/L/N, my whole family accepts her with open arms, and secretly hopes one day she will actually be a Dolan. Of course, none of that will happen if Grayson stays with whatever her name is.

______________

Y/N POV

I showered, got dressed, fixed my hair and makeup and headed back out to the living room where Ethan was half asleep scrolling through twitter. He clicked his phone screen off when he noticed I had entered the room

“Damn” Ethan whispered to himself

I could feel my cheeks blush slightly

“Uh, you ready, E?”

“I’ve been ready, the question is, are you?” he replied, trying to cover for his trip up

“I’m ready! Let’s go get these beautiful ladies so I can ditch you and hang out with some real winners” I laughed as I pulled him up off the couch. 

We hopped up into Ethan’s jeep and headed towards the airport. I absolutely loved this car. He had modified it so perfectly that everything about it screamed Ethan. He turned up the radio and started bobbing his head while I pulled my sunglasses over my eyes and leaned my head back into the headrest, letting my hair blow in the wind. He looked over at me, smiled and placed his hand on my knee. This wasn’t odd for us, it was his way of letting me know he was there, but that he didn’t want to turn down his music to talk. All of which, I was okay with. I didn’t want to talk.

______________

“Y/N/N!” Cameron screamed as she ran up and threw her arms around me in the biggest hug. I laughed and looked over her shoulder to see Lisa coming along smiling at the two of us

“Hey gorgeous, what the heck! I didn’t know you ladies were coming into town! I usually have you guys on the twin’s schedules for weeks before you visit” I said looking between Cameron and Lisa with an excited confusion.

Both women looked over at Ethan, unsure of what he actually told Y/N, clearly not the truth, and went along with the story line.

“Oh well, we wanted to surprise the boys and didn’t say anything until last night to them about coming to visit… SURPRISE!” Lisa fibbed as she embraced Y/N in a hug while shooting Ethan wide eyes hoping she said the right thing. He nodded in acceptance of her answer.

We all got back into Ethan’s jeep, his mom and sister in the back as they had insisted I sit in front. I always felt wrong about making a parent sit in the back, but Lisa had insisted.

I suddenly felt a wave of dread wash over me. They would definitely want to go back to the boy’s house to drop off their things and say hi to Grayson. I, on the other hand, did not want to say hi to Grayson until at least Monday.

______________

Lisa POV

I had insisted Y/N sit up front with Ethan. She was so sweet how she always offered me the front, but I knew she needed to be next to my son more than I did right now. As we drove back to the boy’s house I watched how Ethan would smile and look at her and how she mirrored the gesture. To be honest, I would be over the moon if she dated Ethan, the chemistry between them was undeniable. I could tell from a mother’s perspective that she truly made Ethan happy, but I didn’t know if either of them actually felt that way towards each other. Ethan had always insisted it wasn’t like that and that he was pulling for Y/N to get with Grayson. I would be a lucky parent to have that girl end up with either of my sons, so if Ethan felt that way and everyone was happy, it would be okay with me. 

But that’s not why we’re here.

When Ethan called in the middle of the night I panicked. No parent likes to receive phone calls from their children at odd hours of the night. He sounded very concerned about Y/N and had mentioned that Grayson screwed up. I had kind of put the pieces together and Ethan filled in the details about Gray’s new girlfriend. My heart hurt for the poor girl. As far as I knew no words were ever exchanged from her about Grayson in that way, but we weren’t blind to it. She spent plenty of time with us both here and in New Jersey and I found myself daydreaming about the days of her and Grayson having kids running around my home and sitting together on our front porch hand in hand. She was everything he had ever said he wanted in a woman. Sometimes, we can’t see two inches in front of our face, and surely this was the situation with my son.

______________

Y/N POV

As we rounded the bend towards the gate I was all too familiar with, Ethan gently squeezed my knee. I looked over at him and he nodded in acknowledgment that he knew this would be hard for me but that he knew I could do it. And I would.

We parked in Ethan’s usual spot and everyone hopped out. I helped Lisa grab her bag as we headed towards the front door. Suddenly it opened

“E, where the hell have you been…” Grayson’s voice trailed off as he came storming out of the house and realized Ethan wasn’t alone.

“Mom? Cam? What are you guys doing here? Y/N were they on our calendars?” He looked at me happy but concerned

“Uh… I” I started but Ethan jumped in

“No, I stayed at Y/N’s last night because she wasn’t feeling well, mom texted me while I was there that it was a surprise and we just got back from picking them up” he explained, while looking at his mom and sister for back up. The three nodded in agreement.

“Okay… wait you stayed at Y/N’s?” Grayson asked looking between me and Ethan. He really had no idea what had happened last night, and here was Ethan covering my tracks. But Gray wasn’t stupid, he knew it wasn’t normal for Ethan to stay at my house even if I wasn’t feeling well. But Ethan brushed it off and changed the subject.

“Okay, let’s get inside, I want to drop off their bags so we can show them the new tiny home,” he said. Although there wasn’t much to show them except the empty shell at this point, it got the subject off of me and away from Grayson’s questions.  

The four of us walked past Grayson in the driveway as he turned to watch us. I could tell something about this situation didn’t sit right with him, but I didn’t know why. He had a girlfriend. Ethan staying at my house was no concern of his.

We walked through the door and immediately I regretted being there. I could tell she was still there because there was a woman’s bag on the side table. She spent the night

We gathered in the kitchen, deciding what to do for the evening when Grayson came back into the kitchen with her in tow.

“Hey Mom, Cam, I want you to meet someone special. This is my girlfriend Alyana” Grayson said introducing the three of them.

Someone special. The words stung my ears. I hated what this was doing to me. How the heck was I supposed to come to work every day if I couldn’t even get through 5 minutes of being here. Surely now that she’s been introduced to everyone, Grayson plans to have her around a lot more. I was going to have to handle that. 

I turned my attention to Ethan who was looking at his phone, ignoring the interaction in the room. He looked up from his phone and pulled my chair closer to his so I could see the video he was watching.

______________

Cameron POV

Surely my brother was joking. He presented this girl to us like she was some shiny surf board he won at the teen choice awards. The fake smile plastered on her face when she said hi was enough to make me puke. I saw right through her, and I knew if I saw through her so did Ethan. Grayson might be his twin but we were more on the same wavelength when it came to stuff like this. We can both spot a faker from miles away, while Grayson has the worst judge of character of anyone I know, clearly. Considering Y/N is sitting in the dining room with Ethan while this dumb ass is flaunting a girl I could replicate off of Instagram in a second.

“Hi, I’m Cameron” I tried my best to smile.

“I know! I’ve heard so much about the famous Cam” she said

“Cameron” I corrected her.

Grayson shot me a look. He knew I was being salty, but she didn’t know me. She didn’t know anything about me. Surely we were not on a nickname basis. My family and friends call me Cam, not some bimbo who’s using my brother for clout.

“Right, Cameron” she giggled her fake giggle.

I smiled roughly and turned to go sit with Ethan and Y/N. Surely whatever they were talking about would be much more fun than what was happening here.

______________

Y/N POV

Cam came and sat down next to me, smiling and placing her head on my shoulder. Did she know something I didn’t? Why did that smile seem sympathetic?

“Hey, do you guys want to go down to the beach for a little while and then grab some food?” Ethan broke the silence.

“Is that even a question? I absolutely want to go anywhere but here” I laughed while nudging him with my shoulder.

“I’m in, let me go get Mom,” Cameron said

“Can we please just go the four of us?” I asked Ethan quietly. I really didn’t know if I could handle staring at Grayson and Bimbo Barbie all night. Was I jealous of her? It was surely starting to seem that way.

Ethan nodded in agreement and quickly sent a text. At first, I didn’t know to whom until a pissed off Grayson stormed into the room.

“SO FIRST YOU SPEND THE ENTIRE NIGHT AT OUR ASSISTANTS HOUSE AND NOW YOU’RE EXCLUDING ME FROM PLANS WITH OUR FAMILY?!” Grayson shouted as Ethan stood over me in defense

Our Assistant? So now that’s how he saw me? What the fuck is happening.

“We just figured you guys might want some alone time Gray, no big deal, we’ll bring you guys back food if you want” Ethan covered for me. Again

I looked between Ethan and Grayson for a minute. Them arguing wasn’t really anything out of the norm, but I knew secretly it was because of me. Over my stupid feelings and it made me feel horrible.

“It’s okay E, I don’t have to go, you guys should go out as a family. Your mom and sister just got here, you should catch up” I tried to intervene.

“Well, all I see in this room is family” Lisa chimed in looking at me square in the eye. She was not going to let me bow out that easily. Little did I know she had come here for me, not them.

“Fine Ma, then we’ll all go,” Grayson said in a chilling tone, giving Ethan a smug look.

Great so it’ll just be me, the Dolans and Bimbo Barbie . One big happy family.

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan fanfic #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfic #dolan twins #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins imagine #avocadotoast

[the-omni-princess]

Blood Bound [Chapter Seven]

Author: @the-omni-princess​

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky x Witch!Reader

Summary: Vampires and witches have been known enemies since the dark ages. Backstabbing, secrets, and magic turned supernatural brethren again each other. As a natural-born witch, you grew up on these stories, your own monsters under your bed. What happens when one of those sworn enemies claims that you are his blood mate, the vampire equivalent of a true mate? Will you give in to this man out of time? Or destroy him for the sake of your Coven?

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: smut! (18+ only), blood kink (?kinda? lol he’s a vampire so), fluff, nightmares, cursing, flashbacks, Bucky being adorable, a hint of dom!Bucky and Praise kink, let me know if I missed anything

A/N:

For a <18 version/summary, please message me and I got you.

Finals are killing me so rip, I’ll be working on writing challenges/Secret Santas (lol I’m in multiple) first then the next chapter of this series (on the bright side, guess who’s writing a Stucky one shot :D )

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[Series Masterlist]  [My Masterlist] [Playlist Inspired by the Series]

-

----

Previously….

“Hey, Bucky?” You whispered softly.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again.” He obliged, closing the distance to kiss you again. He was the one to deepen the kiss first, gentle yet dominating, demanding your full attention. You got lost in his touch, pressed against him as his hand around your waist pulled you tighter against him. “James,” you practically purred against his lips.

He groaned softly, smirking. “I love it when you say my name.” His lips brushed against yours, easily pulling your mouth back on his.

“Then I’ll keep saying it, Angel Eyes,” you murmured, pulling far enough off of him to run a hand through his fluffed up and mused hair. He groaned softly, making you grin as you lightly traced your fingertips against his scalp. “I want to remember, Bucky. Help me remember and I help you remember? All of it? From the beginning? I know a witch from another Coven who can help us.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, lips brushing past yours as he nodded. “All of it, Sweetling. From the beginning. And Theo?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

----

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah, Little Witch?”

“Why’d you jump in front of that silver dagger? It would have like, ya know, hurt Nat, but it would like kill you. Dumb bitch juice much?” You turned to face Bucky, still wrapped in his arms, completely content with just teasing him.

“Don’t come after me with facts, y/n/n, it's not fair.” He groaned, “I just acted, didn’t really stop and think.”

“Also, did my entire coven fuck off because they thought we were gonna bone?”

“Honestly, I was kinda crying because I took too much blood from you, Nat called me a pussy and said your anemic ass passes out easily, paraphrasing here-“

“Obviously.”

“And Nat and Steve, totally have a thing going on btw,” he continued, ignoring your interruption, “Kinda like shared a look and Nat went, ‘Alright, well, coven’s gonna just move this party outta here, give these kiddos some space,’ and that’s when I noticed you killed that Council Member, which is incredibly hot honestly, and like woah you’re hot, sorry sidetracked.”

“Keep boosting my ego and you might get more kisses out of it,” you bopped his nose, grinning playfully as he snapped his fangs towards it, making you yelp and burst into a fit of giggles.

He happily buried his face in your neck, holding you close, “My powerful and adorable witch,” he murmured.

“My brooding and dark and mysterious but actually a big goofball vampire,” you retorted, grinning when he pulled back to give you a look. “What? It’s completely true.”

You shrugged, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to shoot Nat a text. The Coven group chat was already lit up with messages, mostly them talking behind Sam and Steve’s back about the vampires, and planning their next move, and of course, the obligatory ‘making fun of the couple for their sex-scapades’ messages.

Bucky read most of the messages over your shoulder, not wanting to let you go so easily. “How many eggplant emojis can Wanda text before her fingers hurt?”

“Don’t let her hear that, or you’ll find eggplants everywhere. I made that mistake with the donut emoji,” you leaned your head against his shoulder, shooting a gif of a girl rolling her eyes.

“Did that picture just move?” Bucky whispered behind you.

“Do you not know what gifs are?”

“Phones are too easy to track; we usually use burner phones. Call and simple texts only.” He explained, much to your amusement.

“Allow me to teach you, oldie,” you teased, spending the next hour showing him the world of social media. His little grin and wide eyes sent your heart fluttering, and you silently prayed he didn’t hear it.

Soon, you yawned, your eyes threatening to close as sleep started to pull you in. Bucky simply tightened his arms around you, tucking you both underneath the covers of the bed. “Sleep, Sweetling. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he kissed your head tenderly, causing you to smile tiredly.

“Promise?” You spoke mid-yawn, letting Bucky place your phone back on the nightstand.

“Promise. And then we’ll talk about everything that happened. You deserve to rest.” You didn’t reply, only burying your face into his chest, elated to drink in his scent, the warm vanilla, and mint overtaking your senses. Spending so much time around him lately, you no longer minded the faint scent of copper blood mixed into his scent, but now you noticed something else. Tones of earthy traces, sparks of flame, and salt from the sea. He was starting to smell like a witch too. That last thought had you smiling goofily as sleep overtook you and your mind plunged into darkness.

-

Warm hands. Big, dragging, gentle, soft. Light kisses below your ear. Whispers of love. A murmur of “Sweetling.” Contentment. Sated. But this time the memory didn’t flee, it continued. Light kisses became heated, hands pressed against each other, fingers brushing alongside a soft fur blanket. Gasping breaths, nerves lit up on fire. Bits and pieces like a puzzle pulling together to make the final picture.

“Come on, James! It’s the summer solstice and a full moon, and you are taking positively forever!” Your voice cried out, tugging a warm hand with you, your other arm carrying a woven basket filled with candles and blankets.

Pale moonlight illuminating the grassy meadow as you let go of his hand, placing the fur blankets down before lining the stones, crystals, and candles in a circle. “I do not think the moon will climb any faster than it does every year, Theodosia,” Bucky stood there, his hair an inch longer than you remembered, grinning as he helped make the circle comfortable.

“Still! I want this to be perfect,” you whispered, sighing softly as you stood in the middle of the circle. Alone with only your lover in the wilderness, unafraid to be who you really were. At peace. Excited.

You pulled on the string of your cloak, tugging it off until you tossed it out of the circle entirely, bare as you sat on the furs. Looking up at Bucky, you smiled, “Will you be joining me, or staring the entire time?”

He simply smirked, “I would not mind watching, I must admit.”

“Oh nonsense, hurry yourself or I will send you back home,” you teased, ignoring the blush threatening to creep onto your face.

“I am moving, do not worry, Little Witch,” he chuckled, pulling off his own cloak and tossing it out of the circle before lying beside you.

Without a word you threw your leg on the other side of his hips, easily finding your way above him, straddling his hips. “Why hello there, My Love,” you smiled warmly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hello there, Sweetling,” his hands gripped your hips, the electricity pulsing from your body didn’t affect him, simply surrounding you both as the winds started to pick up. Light kisses became needier, heated. “I’m yours,” he pledged in a soft voice.

“And I’m yours. Forever, mo chridhe,” You smiled warmly, his eyebrows furrowing as he pulled you close to kiss again. Your hands ran through his hair, moaning softly as he nipped at your bottom lip. Electric pulsing came from a source that was not your powers, euphoria as flashes of other memories swept along like a coursing river.

-      

Picking flowers in a meadow, laying amongst the lavender.

-

Lying beside a fire, warm hands around your body, pulling you closer by your hips.

-

Handmaking candles in preparation for the winters, lining your coats with furs, placing new fur blankets on the bed.

Your back arching, fingers gripping those same furs as you cried out.

-

Murmurs of spells and enchantments, healings.

-

Whispers with sour tones behind your back. Witch. Devil’s Spawn.

-

As quickly as the wave of memories turned changed, they quickly turned back to icy blue eyes. Eyes and arms that pulled you in, kissed your head and lips that said they loved you. James. Bucky.

“This isn’t real, Little Witch,” He gently cupped your face in his hands. “This isn’t real, it’s time to go,” He whispered.

“I don’t want to go again, James. I don’t want to lose you again,” you murmured, closing your eyes as you leaned against his hands.

“Don’t you remember, Theo? You found me again, I won’t let you get away that easy.” Your eyes fluttered open, deep blue ice pulling you back into the bright room. You noticed it was an older room, seemingly of a log cabin. You’ve been here before, but you couldn’t quite remember when. “I’m never letting you go again.”

“I thought you said it was time to go?” You looked back at him, nuzzling deeper into his warm arms. Something about that seemed wrong.

He smiled warmly, tilting your chin up to look at him, affection burning in his eyes, “It is, but I’ll be right there when you open your eyes. I’ll be your anchor in the light, you’ve always been the Good Witch, now it’s my turn to guide you to light magic. We’ll go together.”

“Promise?” Your voice showed exactly how terrified you were.

“Promise, Sweetling.” He smiled, kissing your temple affectionately, “You won’t be alone. Now, wake up.”

--

You gasped awake, eyes wide, shaking. Bucky was sitting up above you, wide eyes and trying to calm you. His mouth was moving, and you absentmindedly felt his hands gently holding your face. Your senses seemed to flood you at once, the bile rising in your throat, terror filling your body as Bucky’s words finally registered in your brain.

“There you go, baby girl, breathe with me. In, out, just like that,” following his words your trembling soon stopped, and you let your eyes close, trusting in the man in front of you. Sighing softly, he pressed his thumbs against your cheeks, and you were surprised to find that it came back wet. You were crying. God, you felt kinda pathetic but being in his arms made you feel safe. “You alright now?” He asked softly, your only response being a small nod. You couldn’t even remember why you were crying.

You moved closer, leaning against him on the bed again. “The memories… They’re coming faster than I can stop them.”

“What did you see?” His voice was soft, still cradling you close, not willing to let you go so easily.

“Doesn’t matter too much,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t notice you blushing as you recalled the moonlit ritual with him.

“Does it? Or are you too embarrassed to say it?” He teased, tilting your head up to look at him, you were curled up in his arms, both of your arms secure against your chest.

“Rituals in the light of the full moon,” you swallowed thickly, steeling your courage. “Using sex magic for bigger spells,” you murmured.

His cheeks flushed pink but kept on grinning, clearly enjoying your shyness. “Is that it, Little Witch?”

“Mostly flashes of random moments,” You paused, becoming more serious, “I hate how none of them connect, it’s all a bunch of random pieces of string in a cobweb…”

“Or a really fucked up jigsaw.” He gently laid you back down across the soft blankets, laying beside you. “I understand that more than you think.”

You moved closer, gently rubbing your nose against his, allowing your eyes to close as you pressed a kiss to his head, letting his head rest at the top of your sternum. “I want to remember you, all of you. You’ve always been there, in the back of my head for years and I haven’t even noticed. You’ve always been a part of me,” you gulped faintly as his nose pressed lightly against your collarbone, grazing past the skin there, lips dotting small kisses along the exposed flesh above your mint charm necklace.

“I used to wonder why I was obsessed with honey. Sam used to tease me that there was no pleasing me,” he continued pressing kisses up your skin, “No matter what honey I tried, I never liked it, it was never right. Now I know it’s because,” he paused at your pulse point, teasingly licking up the thin cords of your neck that shielded your arteries from exposure. The attention made you keen, a faint whimper escaping your lips; one you instantly regretted as you felt his responding smirk against your skin. “Your scent is the honey I was missing. My mate’s scent,” he murmured, placing a possessive kiss just below your ear.

“Mate?” you whispered, the question at the forefront of your mind promptly evaporating the second he started to suck gently on your pulse point, fangs brushing against the skin without breaking it.

“Mine,” his voice was at a near growl, which sent a warm spark directly to your core.

“Make me remember, mo chridhe,” you weren’t quite sure where that phrase kept coming from, an underlining need to say it, but you decided not to question it. “Please-“ your pleas died off with a small breathy moan as his kisses moved up just far enough to suck a line of hickeys right under your jaw.

“Gladly, Sweetlin’ I’d do anything for ya,” as his voice got huskier, his accent started to slip in. He rolled a bit of his weight onto you, moving his lips higher again to claim yours. He was dominating, just a level below overwhelming; too much without being too much.

As your lips are being kissed, very thoroughly mind you, his hands start to push up your shirt, a random button down you happened to have on a chair earlier and Nat must have put on you while you were passed out. Must have had blood on the other shirt.

Your skin was heating up, your hands finding their way onto his body. One hand pressed against his abdomen, nails scratching faintly, enjoying the little groan he would give you in response. The other hand in his thick curls, finding purchase in them as you arched faintly against his touch.

“Bucky?” you murmured, biting your lip as you pressed your forehead against his. “Bite me,” you paused before adding in a soft voice, “Claim me.”

He pulled away, icy blue eyes wide, voice hoarse, “How do you know about vampire claims?” It was a little archaic, but a vampire could claim another nocturnal, and sometimes even humans. It wasn’t painful per se, but it would be for life.

“When I was doing research into vampires, I read it in one of the older texts.” You whispered, suddenly nervous. “Y-you don’t have-“

“No, no, Sweetling,” his hands pulled away from your hips, tenderly holding your face in his palms. “I just want you to be sure. Being Bound to each other is one thing, we cannot control that, but Claiming? It’d be forever, no one would come near you,” his thumbs gently rubbed circles into your cheeks, eyes watching your response carefully.

“I know… I’m yours, remember? Forever,” you placed your hands on top of his, pressing a soft kiss against his fingertips.

His face softened, his thumb running along the seam of your lips, his eyes glancing down before focusing on your eyes again. “And I am yours,” he agreed, smiling faintly. “I remember…. Are you sure you want this, Little Witch? You don’t have to let the past define you - define us.”

“I’m sure. The past isn’t making this decision for me, Bucky. Our past brought me to you, but I fell in love with this version of you. I love every form and every part of James Buchanan Barnes.”

“God, I love you,” he confessed before pushing forward and kissing you. Desperate as he kissed you deeper, demanding in his ministrations. You pushed his hands back onto your hips, your own hands quickly finding their way back to his hair, tugging him closer as you moaned softly against his lips. He groaned softly, his hand gripping your thigh and pulling it over his waist.

Lips breaking apart for breath, voice hoarse and gasping pleas. He simply smirked in response, your hands moving past his shoulders to tug his shirt up. He pulled away, sitting up, chuckling as you whimpered softly from the loss. “Patience, baby,” he teased, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside. You blinked a few times, your brain connecting to your body again before pulling your own shirt off, looking up at him shyly. He ran his hands down your sides, before tugging your hips closer to where he was kneeling on the bed. “If you want to stop, just say the word,” he leaned over you, foreheads pressed together as he kissed you again, this time softer, with more reverence.

“I want this, I want you. Don’t stop, Angel Eyes,” you murmured against his lips, eyes fluttering closed with a small moan as his hands ran up against your inner thighs, pushing them apart.

“Gladly, Sweetlin’” his touch was teasing, but his hand soon moved right over your throbbing core, making you gasp softly. He dragged your shorts and panties off with one tug, throwing them aside hastily before his fingers returned to your folds, teasing as he spread your slick around. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?”

He pressed harder against your clit, rubbing small circles there making you cry out. “Ye-yes! All… all for you,” your hips jerked against his hand, choking out a moan as the pleasure started to electrify every nerve in your body.

“Is that right? How bad do you want me, Little Witch?” You whimpered softly, your mind swirling, unable to fully formulate a response. Your hand gripped his wrist, writhing under his touch as his hands started to tease your entrance. “Answer me, baby,” he warned against your ear, thoroughly enjoying your squirming. He kissed down your neck, taking his time teasing your skin with his teeth. Your hands quickly gripped onto your comforter, toes curling as he kitten licked your nipple, lips attaching to it before sucking harshly.

“So- ah! So bad!” You cried out, breathy moans escaping your lips as he slid two fingers into you.

He pumped them in and out slowly before curling them against your walls, smirking against the skin of your collarbone as you practically wept. “There it is,” he marveled, soon pumping his fingers faster against that spot, his thumb rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves as he sped up.

The knot in your stomach tightened, your heart fluttering as you neared your edge. “Please, James. Please,” you practically begged, not noticing his smirk as he watched you squirm for him, his free hand pressed against your stomach to keep your hips from moving.

“That’s it, Sweetlin’, let go, I’ve got you,” his hand pushed your hips down as you arched against him, the show of strength adding to the building ecstasy. The knot snapped, sending you into euphoria as you moaned his name. Electricity ran up your spine and down your arms, gripping onto him as little sparks surrounded you.

He watched you in awe, slowing his hand once you squirmed away from his hand from the overstimulation. He chuckled, pulling away from you as your eyes opened. You groaned, the first sight you saw being him sucking his fingers clean. You tried catching your breath, pushing off of your elbows to sit up, grabbing onto his jeans and pulling him close with it, attacking him in a heated kiss.

Your hands immediately went to the button of the jeans, practically ripping it off as you unzipped them. “Off. Now,” you gasped against his lips. He nodded, obliging as he pushed his knees up off the bed to stand, scrambling out his jeans and boxers. You bit your lip, smirking as you watched him trip over himself. He froze, unsure if he should continue, giving you the ‘deer in headlights’ look. You sat up on your knees, pulling him closer and using his surprise to push him down onto the bed, putting yourself on top of him. “Need you now, babe,” you murmured. Straddling his hips, you kissed him deeply as he lined himself up.

Slowly lowing yourself down onto him, you moaned, feeling the stretch of his length. He wasn’t small by any means, so you slowed down, whimpering softly as your hips met his, his length fully seated in you. “F-fuck, you feel so good,” he mumbled, his hands gripping onto your hips. You preened at the praise, taking a moment with him bottomed out, adjusting to his thick length.

“So do you,” you lean your forehead against his, pressing kisses across his face as you softly rock your hips. You moved slowly, lacing your hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, your other hand gripping onto his shoulder as you raised your hips a little faster. You dug your nails into the thick cords of his muscles, moaning as you moved. His hips bucked up against yours, making you basically mewl out, “Fuck.” You whimpered, your eyes closing as he fixed his stance, continuing to meet your hips thrust for thrust as you rode him. “Couldn’t just let me be in control, huh?” you teased, circling your hips against his.

He chuckled, gripping your hips to still you. “Bold of you to assume you’re in charge here,” your eyes opened in slight surprise, a chill going up your spine as you realized his eyes were a mix of his witch and vampire sides, red with a golden ring around them. He took charge, slamming his hips up, making you yelp as the pleasure spread at the rough display, both arms around his neck holding on for dear life. You most definitely didn’t mind this side of him. “You take me so well, such a good girl,” the praise sends your head spinning, a fact he locked away in his head for later. “Fuck, Sweetling,” He groans loudly as he grips you tighter, using the angle to pound up into you.

“Fuck, ple-please,” your voice died off as he continued, in total control of your pleasure. One hand was wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady as he moved harder, his length pressing against sensitive nerve endings you didn’t even know existed. His other hand slid between your bodies, roughly circling your clit, making your body seize up, clenching around him.

“Cum for me, Sweetling,” his voice was husky, lips pressed below your ear, “Then I’ll Claim you,” he promised, his own moan cutting his voice off.

You could only reply in breathless whimpers and mewls, brutal yet beautiful bliss overwhelming your body as the familiar knot in your stomach snapped again. He licked right over your pulse point, his hips stuttering a bit as he praised you, “That’s it,” he practically snarled against your skin.

Just as the pleasure started to die down, you felt his fangs brush against your skin. You relaxed in his arms, perfectly boneless. “Come on, Bucky. Cum for me,” you nuzzled your nose under his ear, “Please,” you groaned quietly, one hand tugging lightly on his hair.

His growled softly, fangs bared before they sunk into your lifeline just as he came hard. You cried out, the bite sent euphoric sparks down your neck and spine, pooling at your core and lighting up your brain which sent you gasping and crying out into another orgasm. It was completely different from the last time Bucky fed on you.

Just like that, you felt something snap inside of you, the hole you felt in your chest all your life shifted, filling. The yearning gone, filled instead with contentment and consuming bliss. You could feel and hear Bucky whimper against your neck as he pulled away, hips slowing until they stilled. He still held you close, gently licking the mark on your neck, cleaning off your blood as the wound closed while you mewled softly.

You both just held onto each other, catching your breath, gladly pressed into each other. “Did you feel that too?” You whispered once your breathing became normal again.

He pulled away slowly, a small sheen of sweat on his skin but he was grinning at you. “I did… I think my vampire side is a little happy I claimed you,” he teased.

You blushed but couldn’t help your little smile. “I concur,” you joked, kissing him softly. The heat and passion from earlier dwindling down, both of you sated. He held onto your hips, turning and laying you both down on the bed again, holding you close, unwilling to let you go just yet. “Ya know, we didn’t get much talking done.”

His eyes lit up as he laughed, grinning as he kissed your temple. “I don’t think your Coven will mind much. Now rest, Sweetling,” he pushed a curl of hair behind your ear, tenderly holding you. Your legs curled between his, your body tucked into his broad chest, letting his scent mixed with the smell of sex surround you.

“You too, mo chridhe,” you smiled warmly, holding yourself close together as you let sleep take both of you into the depths of darkness.

---

mo chridhe means My Heart in Scots Gaelic

---

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[talesofphantombandits]

Zero to Six ~ Chapter Seven

Hello my dudes, I want to start off by saying am sorry you’ve had to wait. Just know that am glad I waited because am actually really happy how this turned out and where am going to take it. Am so excited to write the next bit. Remember if you want to be tagged let me know <3

Warnings: Swearing. 

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Gif credit: warriorteam1924

__________________________________________________________

“Will it work?”

“Do you have that little faith in me?” I said half paying attention to One, half trying to cross wires that connected the buildings systems.

I was crouched down outside the massive tower block in Tokyo, I’d managed to opened the electrical box to fiddle with the wires that controlled the security systems. Easy enough to break yet a little bit more complicated to fix which would make me look busy when I was feeding the guys information.

“Done.”

“She’s amazing.” I heard Four say a little dazed.

“No flirting, it’s go time.” I just laughed at Ones stern fatherly tone, if you could call it that.

I stood up closing the box again, shutting the gate to the metal cage as I entered into the alley way. When I rounded the front of the building, Five was getting out of the car. I mused at her bright green dress, then frowned down at my electrician uniform.

"Next time I get to dress up fancy." I mumbled to myself

I winked at her then walked through the front entrance.

There stood a tall Japanese guy in what looked like a security uniform. Bingo.

“Hey, am here to fix the security systems that are down.” I told the guard, hoping to god he spoke English. But judging by his employer he would, I held up my fake Id, which he obviously thought was the real deal.

“They are?” He said confused.

"Yah, why would I be here otherwise?" He just shrugged and led me to the back room.

He sat down in front of the monitors, clicking the mouse a few times.

"So they are." He got up offering me the chair.

“Thanks.” He walk round to the back of my chair and proceeded to looking over my shoulder.

“You afraid?” I heard One say to Four over coms.

“Nope.”

“Good luck.”

“Saying good luck is bad luck.” Four sassed back.

“I take it back.”

“Taking it back is even worse luck!”

I went to giggle but then remembered where I was.

“Erm it’s gonna take a while so you can go back to work.” I turned to the security guard giving him my sweetest smile.

“Sure, just shout if you need anything.” With that he took his leave shutting the door softly.

I turned back to the monitors fiddling for about 5 minutes with the wires then flipped a red switch. The screens jumped back into life.

“Kay we’re all set here guys, Five make your move.”

I looked towards the top camera that was placed outside of the building to see the grey sports car skid into view, stopping just short in front of the valet. As One moved the crane into place so Seven would be able to get a clean shot inside the apartment, Three was revving the car outside to make a grand entrance.

“The eagle has landed, love that movie line.” Seven announced.

This was it, it was either going to all go smoothly or it was going to be a disaster. I closed my eyes saying a short prayer that everyone would come out of this mission safely.

As I opened my eyes I saw Five get up from her seat, pulling the plug out of the laughing gas canasta then threw it onto the floor so the smoke could spread.

It billowed out as people tried to frantically cover their mouths but it would do no good.

“One, the laughing gas is working.” Two said.

Suddenly the door flew open, I saw the security guard reaching for the phone.

“Oh no you don’t.” By the time I’d reached him and knocked him unconscious the button had been pressed.

“Shit One the police have been called, we have thirteen minutes.”

“The zip line is secure.” Five breathed through the mic, well at least something was going well.

I sat there monitoring everything while listening to the conversation coming from the rooftop. To say I was anxious was an understatement, this could go sideways and fast.

Two and Three finally entered the lift to go up to the apartment.

“Underwater, thirty seconds.” I heard Seven say, knowing he was talking about Four.

My anxiety peaked, there were most definitely guards stalking around him causing him to get into the pool, to go under the water to avoid been seen. But that also meant that he might have to stay hidden for as long as possible.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, frustrated that I couldn’t see what was happening up there. All I could do was wait for the instructions that Seven was giving out.

“Freeze Four he’s above you.” I in turn froze, getting a little breathless.

“60 seconds, One he’s going to drown.” I gasped, lunging forward getting ready to run up there myself but stopping short for I knew it wouldn’t help the situation.

I took a deep breath and sat back down again.

“I’ve got 4 guys up top, want me to drop them.”

Yes I murmured to myself quietly enough that it wouldn’t be picked up on coms.

“No, we’ll be comprised.” One said in heavy puffs.

I wanted to give some encouragement but I also didn’t want to interrupt Sevens instructions so I kept myself silent. Instead focusing on the pain of my nails biting into my hand that I was clenching way too tight.

“He’s been under 1:20, he’s going to drown!” Seven said in a more pleading tone.

I had to stand up again, this was getting way too much. I started to pace the little room trying to focus on my own breathing.

“Four move right.” Seven said a little more sure of himself.

I moved to lean down with my palms flat on the freezing cold desk just in front of the monitors.

“In coming round.” What was Seven going to do?

I heard a shot go off, then it clicked. He must have shot a tiny hole in the glass at the front of the pool to make a little air pocket. I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding, closing my eyes for a bit.

Once I felt myself again, I sat down and started to do what I was here for. Monitoring the outside camera to warn the others when the police were arriving.

Two and Three decided to have a moment in the lift, or rather should I say Three decided to be an idiot. I loved Three to death but he was even starting to get on my nerves, no doubt One would rip into him later about almost jeopardising the mission by losing one of the seals on his mask and there for becoming high on laughing gas.

“How you doing over there? Having fun yet.”

“Anyone ask you dumb questions when you’re 90 stories up.” One and Four were really going at it tonight.

“No need to climb angry.”

“Yeah well if you’d stop teasing him.” I mused.

“Mate you’re really ruining my flow right now you know that, and thank you Zero. Normally you’re the one annoying me.” I could hear the smirk.

“I mean I could start being an ass to you if you like?” I scoffed.

“No. No more flirting tonight, just get those devices in place.” One said

“Hey, have you ever been to an American movie theatre, between 1983 and 2015.” One decided to ask such a random ass question.

“No I just pirate them on my phone. Actually Zero I was thinking, when we get back to the hotel. IF we get back safely tonight I was wondering if you wanted to watch one with me.”

There was silence for a second while I tried to compute what he’d said to me.

“You’re really asking me this now? Four you just said it yourself. You’re 90 stories up and you’re asking me out?” I said In disbelief.

“I asked you to watch a movie with me to distress after the mission, but if you want I can make a move on you tonight as well.” He laughed smugly.

“1 that’s a ass hole move pirating, and 2 no one will be making any moves on anyone tonight. I already have enough to worry about with Two and Three fucking.” One said sternly.

“Now concentrate! Get ready to pull that trigger Seven.”

“Till my fingers hurts.” Seven announced.

Just then a loud screeching noise started up slowly, gradually building while the vibrations shock the whole tower. A feign voice started coming over the phone in the security room, probably someone upstairs trying to get a man to turn off the music.

“No can do big boy.” I said to myself without bothering to answer it.

I watched as Two and Three entered the top level, positing themselves to start shooting.

“Hit it, now.” And so it began.

It was constant shots ringing out over coms, part of me wished I could be up there with them. But I knew One would crucify me if I got in the middle of it.

“One, Fours got the target.” Few okay half way there.

“Four move.” Seven said.

“Got the target, moving out.” Four declared.

I started to get more anxious the more the silence went on, I’d never realised how nerve racking it would be to be on field. But honestly I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“OUCH.” I heard Three exclaim.

“Three speak to me what happened?!” I said panicked.

Looking at the monitor to my left to see Three laying on the floor.

“Please tell me I did not just kill three.” Seven said

“Seven what the hell.” What was he playing at.

“The hell you picking up a bad guys gun for Three?!” Seven said angrily.

Idiots. Am surrounded by absolute idiots.

“Am so mad at everyone right now.” Two spoke.

“You and me both Two, you and me both.” I chimed in.

“What’s new I like you mad.” Shut up One that’s going to make her more angry.

I suddenly monitored more and more men exiting the elevator, where the hell were they all coming from? I saw no indicators of where, or how these men were getting here so fast.

“One minute left guys, make it count.” I informed them.

I saw Five move through the lobby to the main entrance, this was my chance to leave as well. But a niggling feel ticked at the back of my head, I couldn’t just leave.

Not when I could have been of use to everyone upstairs, so I decided to risk it and hang back a little longer.

“Two, Three clear up the stairs.” I heard seven said in amidst a load of gunfire.

Just then I heard the sirens, standing I saw the police cars stationing themselves outside. “Shit.”

I ran out to the lobby, I could either go outside and wait with Five for the others to arrive back at the car or I could go upstairs to help.

“Screw it.” I picked up the guys arm who was still lying at the bottom of the elevator and pressed his finger into the button.

“Zero were are you?” Five said frantically.

“What do you mean where is she, she’s supposed to be with you?!” One shouted.

“I thought she was right behind me, but am at the car and she isn’t here.”

I got my gun out of it’s holster, checking it was loaded, the safety was off. “Chill guys am in the elevator, am coming up to help. You’re out numbered.”

“NO.” Four Said firmly. “One stop her.”

“Zero you get your ass back down and out of this building right now.” One sounded angry.

“Listen if I go down now I’ll be arrested, so what am going to do. Instead I can be useful and come up to help you guys.” I said a bit too calmly.

“I don’t care if you get arrested, at least you won’t be dead. Which is what you’ll be if you come up here.”

I just laughed at one. “You’re not my dad one, besides. I can handle myself.”

Just then the doors to the elevator opened.

Chapter Eight

#ben hardy #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy four #6 underground #6 underground four #6 underground billy #6 underground fanfic #billy #billy fanfiction #four #four fanfic #four fanfiction

[beanie-beebo-writes]

What Once Was But Never Will Be

Category: One-shot, gen-fic

A/N: This story was written in 2016, so it may be a bit different from my current style of writing. At the time, I was experimenting with fanfic and writing, and I really was proud of this at the time. A lot of this was based on lore I researched as well. Enjoy! Also let me know if I should put this into chapters or if this format is fine!

"I'm turning in for the night," Sam said; his back protesting from remaining in the same position for hours, "don't stay up too late, alright?"

"Okay mom, sure thing." Dean said with an eye roll.

Sam huffed in amusement. "Night!" He shouted from down the hall.

"Night." Dean replied audibly to his brother.

Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose as he continued to skim through thick piles of information. Back and forth he went from the lore to the patient records, making his eyes grow tired. He couldn't sleep, not now. He was so close, he could feel it. He scooched his chair back and rubbed his drooping eyelids. The bunker was silent, except for the occasional soft snore echoing from Sam's room.

"Maybe I'll do better in the morning." He sighed, stifling a yawn.

Leaving everything as if he just got up and left, he dragged himself to the bathroom and got ready for bed. As he laid down, his mind couldn't help but wander to one of the victims. His name was Victor, and he was only eight years old. Why do the helpless always end up getting hurt?

It wasn't long before the saddening thoughts of the helpless young boy silenced him into a dreamless state of slumber.

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing Dean awoke to was the sweet smell of coffee and creamer. Up early, aren't we Sammy? He opened his eyes to see an oddly familiar room; he bolted upright. His eyes darted around the average-sized bedroom and back to the bed he was sleeping in. It wasn't his bed, it was a bed made for two, a queen bed. The other side was unkempt and cold; he was slightly clueless. Where have I seen this room before? He quietly crept down a hallway and down some stairs off of the familiar room. The area was lit by some lamps in a living room, which was also familiar. Weird. He made his way to the kitchen. With caution, he slid over to the coffee maker and found a sort of sloppily written note beside a ceramic mug. 'Have a great day sweetie! :) Love you lots, Carmen' it read.

"Carmen?" Dean asked aloud.

He flipped over the note, half expecting to find a code or something on the back. Only it was just a slip of paper, nothing more. Tossing the note aside, he explored the small apartment in hopes of finding out where he was, or even why. In the next room, he came across some framed pictures. They were distantly familiar, but strangely inaccurate. One showed Sam with his mother and his old girlfriend Jessica, outside of a lit building. He was in a red graduation cap and gown. Another one was an unfamiliar Christmas family photo, with himself, Sam, and his parents all bundled together in festive attire. Dean stared at the photos and pondered for a few moments. It hit him, he knew where he was. He frantically searched his cell phone contacts and stopped a quarter of the way down. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when the familiar voice answered the phone.

"M-mom?" He stuttered into the receiver.

                                                  ~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam groggily rolled over to check the time; 10:30 AM.

"Shit." He grumbled as he swung his legs over the bed.

He kneaded his eyes with the heels of his hands and smoothed down his bed-head, his feet slapping down on the cold hallway tiles. He peeked into the library, half-expecting Dean to be out cold with his head actually in the books. But when he just found all of his unkempt files astray, he felt a sense of pride from his gut. He never actually thought Dean would listen to his advice for once. Sam peered into Dean's slightly ajar door to find his older brother sound asleep. One arm was lazily slung across his abdomen while the other dangled slightly off of the bedside. Sam smiled at the peaceful sight of his brother and closed the door lightly, careful not to disturb him.

"I'll let him sleep a bit." He thought as he headed to the kitchen for some breakfast.

His stomach grumbled as he reached for the oatmeal in the upper cupboard. He would have made a nice diner-style breakfast, but he remembered that they were out of some ingredients. As the light hum of the microwave filled the kitchen, Sam decided to make his way to the library to inspect the files Dean had left out. Three profiles were scrambled into one pile, they were all children. Victor Emanuel Hart; 8 y.o; Cause of death: Unknown. Bridgette Rose Pyne; 6 y.o; Cause of death: Unknown. Jacklynn Rose Smith; 7 y.o... The only thing they seemed to have in common was an unknown cause of death, within a brief time period from the other victims, and were of a young age. They were residing in different states and had no relations to one another. He skimmed the other piles to see what else he could find, hoping Dean wouldn't kill him for slightly messing up his work. Coronary reports and autopsy photos, records and police reports, mostly useless. Maybe he would be able to convince his older brother to see the bodies again later. The pictures showed no visible wounds of course, but he thought they should check out the victims before the funeral services took the bodies. They were lucky to even pull the information that they did over the phone with the officers and their fake identities. Bobby may have not been around to help out anymore, but they still had a few tricks up their sleeves to get the job done. They also still had Charlie and Kevin to back them up if they needed the extra assistance.

The warming smell of oatmeal flooded the library, sending Sam straight to the microwave for his meal. He was surprisingly famished, despite that he had eaten dinner last night. He opened the door to the microwave and steam bellowed from it, almost burning his skin. Before he could burn anything else, he quickly rushed back to the library and slid it onto the table. His mouth was watering just from the smell alone as he lightly blew across the top of the bowl. He tried to concentrate on the lore while his bowl cooled, hoping it would distract his stomach, that was currently nipping at his sides. His brother had left one book open at a Japanese creature called the Baku. From the looks of it, he had a head start with some phone calls with the victims' families as well, based on some sticky notes that were stuck above the book. The first one read: Nightmares for months without end; no known mental illnesses. The others seemed to have the same information written on them except for the last one, which had an extra bullet on it: "Mother heard him murmuring aloud at night sometimes, told her the following morning that he was talking to his friend the 'Batu'; Heard it from his friends in his religious instruction classes." Well it definitely fit right into the lore; the Batu was called upon if a child was distressed from a nightmare. It would literally eat the child's nightmares, in exchange for a peaceful night. The lore didn't really specify anything else except for other rituals and ways to protect one's child from one. Sam set the book back on the table and reached for his laptop, which was where it normally was, at least when he would sit with Dean while they did their research. He opened it up and took a large spoonful of the oatmeal, making satisfied noises as he enjoyed each bite slowly. The computer softly hummed the boot up noise and Sam leaned forward, mentally preparing himself for another period of lengthy research once again.

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later Sam pushed the chair away from the table in defeat. There was nothing that could suggest why or how a Batu takes or kills its victims.

"Maybe Dean knows something I don't." Sam said as he walked towards his sibling's dormitory.

He was surprised that he wasn't awake already, it was almost noon! He knocked audibly on Dean's door, hoping he was at least getting ready.

"Dean? You awake?" Not even a rustling came from the room in response, which worried him.

Dean was in the same position that Sam had found him in earlier, one arm was still thrown across his stomach and the other dangling from the bedside. His covers were still the same, as if he hadn't moved at all. He rushed to check for any signs of life.

"Alright, pulse... is slower..? He's breathing.." Sam said aloud.

He checked for any signs of discomfort, a temperature, visible wounds... There was nothing to be found.

It didn't make sense, he wasn't waking up. And there was no reason he should have be unresponsive, at least that Sam could see. He shook him forcefully and repetitively slapped his face.

"Hey Dean, buddy, wake up."

Still no response, not even a twitch or an eye movement. He was still except for his brother frantically shaking him.

"Dean!"

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was like he was having a deja vu, it felt exactly the same. Almost like he was reliving the same dream. All. Over. Again. He knew he was dreaming, but it just felt so real. He closed his eyes and rang the doorbell. He bit his lip to try and will away his tears, but they had stubbornly crept up on his water line. The white door opened moments later, barely giving him time to think. He looked up and met the familiar set of blue eyes etched with deep concern. Up to the slightly unkempt, blonde hair thrown into a messy bun on top of her head. He couldn't believe his eyes. Why now? Why not years before? He cleared his throat in a final attempt to choke back the emotional dam.

"Hey mom." He wavered as she welcomed him inside.

"Hey sweetie, what's wrong? You look upset.." Mary said as she closed the door with one hand and caressed his face with the other.

His eyes scanned the house from the front hallway, his gaze landing back onto his mother's angelic face. Dean's eyes finally betrayed him as a tear rolled slowly down his cheek; he pulled his mother into a tight hug. That was all that was needed for the rest to leak out. His failure to control his emotions racked his body in sobs, causing his mother to hug him even tighter and shush him.

"Shhhhh, honey it's okay." Mary hushed as she rubbed his back repetitively; she pushed him away gently to see his distraught face. "Hey, sweetie... Talk to me, what's wrong?"

Dean sniffled and wiped the tears away as he regained his posture. He drew in a deep breath and absently ran his hands through his shadow.

"It's nothing." -Mary gave him a bitch face- "No really, it's nothing, I promise. I just.." He trailed off momentarily, "...haven't seen you in a while, that's all."

"Okay... If you say so. Why did you come here so early? I thought when you said you wanted to come over, I thought you meant later on in the day... Not so early in the morning-. Are you sure everything's alright, dear?" Mary asked with great concern.

"Yes, yes I'm sure mom. My mistake, should have told you." Dean reassured. "I just felt a little homesick, that's all."

He trailed off into the familiar living room and observed the identical pictures on the shelves. They all were the same as his fake-reality many years before. None of it added up, but it didn't matter. He was home.

"I think I understand dear... Did you call into work this morning?" Mary asked.

Work? Yeah, definitely the last thing on his mind.

"Yeah, I called. I just needed to be home again.. You know?" The word sounded so alienated coming from his vocal cords; home.

His mother nodded and hummed in agreement. He had been this way years back, and she wondered what could have caused him to feel this way again. Dean had grown closer to the family over the years, but what could possibly have triggered a breakdown like this? She had just seen him a few weeks ago. She planted a kiss on his cheek and looked deeply into his emerald eyes, searching for any reasonable answer to her concerns.

"Well I'll be cooking some breakfast if you need anything, alright?" Mary said softly.

"Alright mom." He said.

She caressed his cheek and Dean leaned into her touch.

"And I mean anything." She added sincerely.

"Okay." Dean replied with a slightly annoyed expression.

Mary smiled deeply and walked into the kitchen. Couldn't someone just miss home?

                                                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Cas, I-I don't know what to do! He won't wake up a-and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him!" Sam exclaimed as he sat down.

"And you've tried waking him?" Cas parroted, bending down to Dean's still form.

Sam gave him the bitch face causing Cas to raise his hands up in defense.

"Just checking."

Cas placed two fingers on Dean's forehead, making Dean scrunch his eyelids slightly. Cas closed his eyes momentarily, finding himself inside Dean's head. He suddenly became aware of the softly lit room of the Winchesters' old house. Dean was currently observing the pictures and knick-knacks on the shelves.

"He seems to be dreaming." Cas said, opening his eyes to an alert Sam behind him.

"He's dreaming? Well then why can't I wake him up?!" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Cas replied arrogantly.

"Couldn't you... wake him up or something?" Sam impatiently asked.

"I could try, but I can't promise he'll wake up."

Cas put his fingers back on Dean's forehead, finding it slightly chilling to the touch. He closed his eyes and found himself back where he was moments before, next to Dean by the wooden shelves of his past. Dean stumbled backward, surprised by his friend's random usual appearance (not like it was the first).

"Damnit Cas, you scared the shit out of me!" Dean quietly shouted as he unballed his fists.

"You need to wake up, Dean." Cas stated firmly, ignoring the scare he gave his friend.

"What? Why? Is something wrong?" He asked.

"We don't know yet, but you aren't waking up. That's normally not a good sign." Cas replied urgently, afraid something might happen.

"How do I wake up?"

"I'm normally not well informed on the human brain, but you should be able to command yourself to be awake if you're aware that you're asleep." Cas informed briefly.

Dean glanced around the room for a final time as he tightly closed his eyes. Nothing happened. He tried again, but no progress. He was still there, at his old house, in front of his angelic friend, in the familiar room. He repeated the phrase 'wake up' multiple times, even closing his eyes tighter as he said so. But no matter what he tried, he remained in that room, in his dream, of a different reality.

"Cas, nothing's working! What's going on?!"

"I don't know, but it looks like you're trapped." He grinned and suddenly shifted into Dean's mother.

                                                   ~~~~~~~~~~~

"Cas, are you alright?!"

Cas opened his eyes and leaned away from the sudden bright light that filled his eyes. His hearing was foggy and his vision was slightly hazy. He noticed he was against Dean's desk, Sam hovering cautiously over him. He rubbed the back of his head as the room spun. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the wooden desk.

"I think so, but I don't believe Dean is." Cas grumbled weakly.

Sam helped him up to where he sat moments ago and observed the angel's injuries. Luckily it only looked like he took a heavy blow to the head from being thrown back to Dean's desk, but he couldn't tell if anything was injured internally.

"Cas, what happened? What was that?!" Sam asked.

"I don't know, but it definitely wasn't good. I was basically thrown out of your brother's state of mind by something powerful. I tried helping Dean wake up and the next thing I know, I'm thrown against his desk." He said as he felt his power diminish.

"Do you think maybe Dean knew something about the case we were working on?" Sam asked Cas, suddenly connecting the dots.

"W...What does that have anything to do with this?" Cas panted as he tried to sit up a bit straighter.

"I'll be right back." Sam said as he backed out of the doorway and ran to the library. His footsteps eerily echoed down the hallway as he ran back with the lore book and the sticky notes Dean had left above them. He thankfully found Cas just as he left him; he handed the findings to Cas for him to scan over.

"We were cracking down on three separate victims with mysterious, unknown deaths across multiple states within a short time period. I hadn't found anything useful yet, but it looked like Dean had already almost cracked the case. Maybe what he was going to hunt, hunted him down first before he could get to it." Sam hypothesized as Cas finished scanning the papers.

"And he was hunting a Baku?" He asked while he set everything down.

"Yeah, it's a japanese creature that was said to eat nightmares of troubled children it got called to. But legend has it that if they call too many times, they would be preyed on and the Baku would eat them whole." Sam informed.

"A japanese creature on the other side of the world? How would that be possible?" Cas asked.

"Well someone could have brought it here with their culture from immigration, or the word just could have spread like folklore normally does." Sam said.

"Which explains the deaths across multiple states." Cas followed.

"Correct. But now we have to find out why it targeted Dean and how to get him out of this spell he's under." Sam replied.

"Well maybe Dean knew something we didn't, like how to stop it or something." Cas suggested.

"But how would the Baku know?"

"Good question. But first we should try and stop it before it does any more harm."

"Good idea." Sam agreed as he collected Dean's findings. "Can you get up on your own?" He asked as he saw his friend struggle to stand on his feet.

"Yeah, I think I'm good, just a bit sore." Cas lied.

Sam reluctantly took him on his word and sped-walked back to the library to research once again. Cas joined him not much later and cracked open one of the boys' laptops. The search had begun; time was precious.

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What's wrong Dean? You look quite startled.." The thing that transformed into his mother asked shrewdly.

"What are you doing to me?" Dean hissed as he backed away slowly and searched for something to stop the creature.

The thing chuckled and slowly walked closer to him, suddenly turning into Carmen. It cornered him to a wall, forcing him to search for a way out. It touched his cheek romantically and sighed. Dean turned his head away in disgust as it drew itself closer into his personal space.

"Now now Dean, would hate to ruin what you've got here... Wouldn't you?" It purred as it connected his hands to 'Carmen's' hands firmly.

"I don't have anything here. This is a dream caused by the disgusting thing lurking in front of me." Dean spat.

The creature disguised as Carmen frowned. "That hurts Dean... I was only granting your deepest desires you had wished for.." It said.

"I never asked anyone for this." He replied with confusion. He hadn't told anyone anything, how could this thing possibly know anything he wished for? Unless...

"...If I had read your thoughts?" Dean looked slightly shocked as it broke the silence. "You know it's rude to talk behind people's backs Dean.."

Dean swallowed hard. Shit. He would never be able to think of anything the same again.

"I know you wanted this deep down hun, I can feel it." It whispered as it trailed a finger down to the center of Dean's chest. "My insight's never wrong, Dean." It leaned in close enough to taste Dean's alcohol breath.

"But why me, of all people you could have chosen..?"

"I can taste the desires from miles away.. All I had to do was pick up your scent from a crime scene and voila.. You're all mine." It mumbled romantically, looking straight into his eyes. "Besides, wouldn't want someone to kill me off the food chain... Would I?"

                                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time seemed to race as Sam dug continuously into the lore. He couldn't find anything, except for the same details. Baku, dream eater, dream granter, preys on repetitive nightmare-afflicted individuals, mostly children. But why would it go after Dean? It didn't add up. More importantly, how could they stop this thing before it stopped Dean? Sporadic clicks from the laptop occasionally broke Sam from his thoughts, only frustrating him further.

"I think I may have found something useful." Cas said suddenly, causing Sam to rush over excitedly.

He turned the laptop over to Sam feeling accomplished. He had never felt so useful without all of his grace, it was almost... rejuvenating. It made him think back to when he had become a hunter for a day, when he thought it would be so easy and fulfilling. But the boys taught him that it was anything but easy. It was more than just a past-time sport, it was a job, a legacy even.

"So it looks like the only way we can ward these things off is to show them a representation of themselves, like a figurine or a sculpture.. That's a start." Sam informed, still scanning the page for more information.

Cas raised his eyebrows, expecting at least some praise from the youngest winchester. Sam furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated on the website in front of him, still seeming to be searching for something.

"But the question is... How do we gank it?" Sam thought aloud.

Cas lowered his eyebrows in discouragement, and looked down at the table. Sam looked down to Cas' slumped form, seeing the change in his expression.

"Hey, Cas, look. You did good, okay?" Sam knelt down slightly to get to his eye level. "You gave us a good lead, but we just need to keep searching, alright? We can't let one small thing stop us from saving Dean." Sam encouraged gently, adding a smirk for reassurance.

Cas smiled back and looked at Sam in the eyes. They haven't lost hope, not yet. If Sam didn't lose hope, neither should he. He felt a slight tug at his vessel's heart. This must be determination, he thought. He still had to become accustomed with emotions, but he knew from the observances. Of Sam, of Dean, of Jimmy. It was as if Jimmy was telling him to not give up. No, not yet. Not just on Dean, but on Sam. He needed him. That's one thing he wouldn't do is let them down again.

"You're right, we can't give up. We won't give up." Cas replied defiantly.

Sam patted his shoulder and went to grab the spare laptop from across the library. Cas continued to scroll through the websites when he suddenly thought of something. They had a lead, and they needed to tell Dean. He could be in danger, and here they were researching in a library.

"Sam, I'll be right back." Cas said suddenly.

The flapping of his wings echoed throughout the bunker, barely giving Sam a chance to turn around and question Cas' disappearance. He sighed with frustration and booted up the computer's system.

                                                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Whoever said that this had to be a bad thing? Whoever said this couldn't be a little... fun?" The creature that took Carmen's form purred softly as its fingers slid up Dean's neck.

Suddenly a couple of booming flaps bounced off of the walls of the room and a large breeze blew over several knick-knacks and pictures off of the shelves. The creature slowly turned around to find Cas in a battle stance; it gave him a disgusted look.

"Look who came to crash the party." It snarled.

It started closer, causing Cas to look down slightly. It was only a couple moments, but to Cas it felt like a century. They stared at each other until the creature turned around to face Dean.

"What did you do, pray to your little angel here to come save your ass?" It asked as it started towards Dean.

"Actually, no." Cas interrupted, causing it to turn around again. "I've actually come to save his ass myself."

"And how are you gonna do that? With your angel powers? Please, those don't phase me." It scoffed.

Castiel reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a small figurine. Just before it could shield its eyes, it disappeared in a bright flash. Dean lowered his arm from his face and walked towards Cas.

"What the hell was that?!" Dean exclaimed.

"I believe I got us some time to help you out." Cas replied as he handed Dean the small figurine.

The figurine was a heavy marble creature, with a trunk, cat-like paws, tusks, and a cat-tail. Its features were twisted slightly to form a spiral-like appearance. Dean observed it and then looked back to his friend.

"Next time you see her, show her this figurine. Its her true form and serves as protection, at least for the time being." Cas informed.

They held their gaze with each other for a moment until Castiel disappeared in front of Dean's eyes. Dean looked around expecting someone to be with him. He searched the house to find it completely deserted.

"I should help them with the research." Dean thought to himself as he searched the house for a computer.

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam looked up from the spare laptop to the sound of angel wings echoing throughout the bunker. Cas walked a little slower than usual to the library table and put one hand on the table and the other on his forehead. He looked a little drained, but better compared to earlier. Sam rushed over and helped him to a chair carefully. He sighed as he rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.

"Cas, where did you go?" Sam asked as he took in the angel's state. He avoided to ask why he looked so drained.

"I retrieved something that resembled a Baku and gave us some time to work with." Cas panted.

"...I'm guessing it worked then." Sam replied as he retrieved the other laptop for Cas. "Think you can handle some more research?"

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Endless research, that's all hunting seemed to be. He didn't know how much time had went by, but it seemed like hours. Dean had finally found a computer in the attic. He had never been so determined to research in his sleep, in his whole life. He couldn't find anything to gank this thing, and he knew the Baku would be back soon. Obviously his brother and the angel were stuck as well, so he continued to ponder.

"I wonder if there's some sort of banishing spell.." Dean thought aloud.

Just as he began to type 'banishing spell' into the search bar, a bright flash erupted from behind him and illuminated on the computer in front of him. He stood up and turned around with the figurine in hand, but nothing happened. He held it out from himself and cautiously walked closer to the creature posing as Carmen.

"Sorry hun, that doesn't seem to work anymore... Sucks to be you, doesn't it?" It said confidently as it lunged for Dean.

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Something isn't right Sam, I can feel it." Cas said, breaking the silence.

Sam looked over to Cas to see a troubled expression on his face; he knew something was wrong. Sam thought for a moment and then looked back at Cas.

"I'm guessing your weak powers aren't enough to kill it.." Sam said.

Cas shook his head and it seemed to spin. He held his head in his hands to maintain stability, causing Sam to look over. Cas held up a thumb, knowing the youngest Winchester was already beginning to question his physical state. Silence swallowed the room again momentarily, despite Cas' panting.

"There has to be something we're missing..." Sam mumbled.

"Have you tried searching for a banishing spell?" Cas grunted in a slightly muffled voice from his head being projected towards the floor.

"Have you tried the simple term search of it already?" Sam asked hurriedly.

"Yes, and I found nothing so far." Cas replied, slowly lifting his head up.

"I would say a Purgatory spell, but it looks like we don't have much time to work with here.." Sam said as he walked over to the set of stairs that led to the dungeon. "If I can't find anything on there, maybe the archives have something to offer."

He turned on the dim light of the musty lair and quickly started over to the archives. He remembered Kevin had mentioned a banishing spell when he banished Crowley's demons and decided to give him a quick call. He picked up on the second ring.

"Hi Sam, what's up?" Kevin answered on the other end.

"Kevin, there's something important I need you to remember. Are you alone right now?"

A brief pause and shuffling was heard from Sam's end of the line.

"Yeah, shoot away." He replied momentarily.

"Alright, do you remember when you were with Crowley and you banished his demons to hell?"

Kevin sighed at the mention of the name that sent him misery, not likely wishing to remember those times.

"Yeah, why?"

"We're trying to banish a Baku, a creature that feeds off of nightmares." Sam informed with brevity, searching the archive files for any banishing rituals.

"I'm not really the best at spells, but you might be better off with what they call a repelling spell." Kevin replied.

"A repelling spell? What does that do?"

More shuffling is heard on the other line. "It's not a banishing spell, but it's your best bet at the moment."

Sam pulled out a manilla folder marked 'banishment' and dropped it on the floor in front of him. He kneeled down and scanned the handwritten entries for the words 'repelling spell'.

"Don't bother looking in the archives, it might take a while to come across this one. The only reason I know of this one is because of my mom's involvement with that witch last year. It's only one latin word that needs to be recited, but it involves deep concentration." Kevin interrupted, overhearing Sam's hopeless digging into the manilla folder.

"The person that wants to use this spell correctly must concentrate on repelling all objects around themself. The spell can repel any object around them with a movement as simple as a finger or a toe lift." Kevin recited on the other end.

"Wow, that's some serious stuff.." Sam responded.

"The word that needs to be recited is 'Abite'" Kevin said as he scanned his own notes.

"Awesome, thanks Kev." Sam said as he hung up and ran upstairs.

When he reached the library, he found Cas barely holding it together in front of the laptop. He rushed over and shook him gently. His eyes began to droop heavily and bags were clearly visible under his sunken eyes. He had a feeling his friend might not be able to make the trip to Dean.

"Cas, you with me?" Sam asked softly.

"Kinda.." Cas grunted and then coughed.

"I found a way to banish this thing. But I need to know if you're capable of remembering a few things for Dean." Cas began to speak. "And be honest." Sam interrupted.

"It depends on how much I need to remember, but I feel I have just enough to make a single trip or send him a thought or two." Cas answered truthfully.

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean blinked heavily to see the creature towering over him, making him feel powerless. It chuckled and stepped on his hand forcefully, hearing a series of cracks flood the silent attic. Dean grunted in pain as she knelt down.

"My my, you're a fighter.. Wish it didn't have to end this way sweetheart, you looked like a keeper." It cooed as it played with a few tufts of his hair.

"Bite me, it ain't over yet." Dean grunted through clenched teeth.

"Oh gladly, I was just getting to that part.." It replied seductively.

It leaned down and began to nibble on one of his ears, making him close his eyes. He refused to be brought pleasure , but if he was going to die, he might as well make it last. He moaned slightly and deeply kissed the creature on top of him. He imagined it really was Carmen, the one he deeply loved in his long lost dreams. He was broken out of his fantasy by a hard bite on his upper lip.

"I know I'm tasty, but I'm not edible." He inserted.

"Oh sweetie, don't you know? You're my next meal, and I'm going to eat you piece, by, piece." It responded deviously as it ripped off a large section of his upper lip.

He began to scream in agony as it dove in for other parts of his face and head. It just tore off large sections of his ear when a large flap of wings erupted throughout the dim-lit attic, followed by a large thud.

"Dean. I need you to listen carefully." A familiar voice grumbled loudly from across the attic.

Cas. The creature stepped off of Dean hastily and headed over towards the voice at the other side of the room.

"A little weak to be fighting a creature like me, buddy boy." It chuckled as it flicked his friend to the nearest wall.

"A spell Dean. Abite." Cas said hoarsely but audibly, recieving a blow in the stomach. He spat out some blood. "Concentrate!" He yelled as the creature lowered itself to the angel's level.

Dean slowly stood up, ignoring the searing pain in multiple areas of his face and closed his eyes. He imagined he had power, almost as if he was possessed by Micheal.

"Abite!" He shouted from across the room, closing his eyes as he did it.

The creature stopped, unable to physically move. Cas coughed and grunted as he rolled closer to an adjacent wall. Dean walked closer to the creature that froze in position, time seemed to flow like he was submerged in molasses. He grabbed the creature by the chin and rose it up. A scream roared from her as a blinding light vaporized their surroundings.

                                                   ~~~~~~~~~~

Dean gasped and bolted upright, absently feeling his surprisingly undamaged face. Sam rushed over to his side as a thud echoed throughout the bunker. They both looked at each other and ran to the source of the noise. There beside a chair in the library was their friend Cas, motionless and slightly bloody. They dropped their weapons and rushed over to the angel to check for any sign of major injury. Finding nothing, they both picked him up and dragged him to one of the unused guest rooms. After placing him on the bed, they both looked at each other and grabbed medical supplies from their rooms. They hurried back to their friend and tended his visible wounds that needed to be addressed, in silence. Several minutes later, they grabbed chairs and watched over the angel, feeling a sense of irony.

"Us watching over an angel, who would think?" Dean replied as he opened a beer. He sighed in delight as the liquid warmed his insides.

"Yeah." Sam agreed, looking back at the unconscious angel. He wondered if the angel would be okay as Dean offered him a bottle of whiskey.

He accepted the offer and took a long swig at the needed comfort. They sat in silence for several moments, watching the angel's stomach rise and fall rhythmically.

"So, you good?" Sam asked, knowing Dean would likely not want to discuss what had happened.

"Yeah, I'm good." He replied almost truthfully after a long swig of the delightful drink.

Dean/Jensen tags: @akshi8278​

#spn #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn genfic #dean #dean winchester #sam #sam winchester #castiel #cas #misha collins #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #spn oneshot #sorry #it's a long one

[hellomorganus]

Helen Draiz

I do not own The Phantom of the Opera. The book/musical/movies belong to their rightful owners. I only own my characters.

CHAPTER 4

Helen really had no idea how she didn’t die right then and there, glaring up at The Phantom. The policeman, Nadir, stood anxiously to the side, ready to stop any fighting that might occur. The Phantom was examining the girl that had so bravely taunted him. It was like she had a death wish. 

“Tell me.” she said, her hands shaking. The Phantom smirked at her shaking hands. She was hiding her fear very well on her face but the rest of her body was giving her away. 

“She ran,” he hissed, taking a step closer to intimidate her. She stood her ground despite her quivering becoming more visible. “She ran, I caught her. Simple as that.”

Helen gulped, her mouth going dry as he took another step closer. “Like cat and mouse?” she said, her lips pursed. “Why’d she run?”

Nadir watched his friend closely, hesitantly taking a step closer. Helen turned her head to face him, holding her hand out to him, telling him to stop. 

The Phantom now stood in front of her. “I really don’t see how that is any of your goddamn business.” he hissed, towering over her. 

Helen glared up at him, crossing her arms. “Sir, men should never lay a hand on a lady. For any reason. When we want to be touched, we’ll let you know. She clearly did not want to be touched. That’s why she ran.” she stated. 

The Phantom’s eyes widened just slightly at what she was accusing him of. His hand went around her throat, squeezing tightly. “Are you accusing me of raping her?” 

Nadir ran to help the brunette, gently placing his hands on his friend’s arm, urging him to let go. Helen, despite having difficulty breathing, answered in short breaths. 

“If you...didn’t...why did...she run?” she croaked, nearly falling over when his hand left her throat. 

Nadir caught her, glaring at his friend as he examined her. “You mustn't say those things Mademoiselle.” he warned her, feeling her neck for anything wrong. 

The Phantom stared the girl down, his hands clenching by his sides. “Daroga. Get her out of here before I actually kill her.”

Nadir nodded, wrapping his arms around her as he began to lead her to the hall outside of the box. 

“No!” she gasped, pulling herself away from him. She spun to face The Phantom who’s shoulders were shaking. “I’m sorry I accused you of rape.” she said, slowly walking back in front of him. When she looked up to him she saw a mask in the glimmer of the ghost light. He stepped back into the shadows, his hazel eyes glossy with tears. “It was horrible of me. But how could I not think that is what happened? She saw the bruises you gave me and knew I had met you. She stared out of the window with a longing look. Like she wanted to escape.” 

The Phantom shook his head, jumping a bit when Nadir placed a hand on his shoulder. “That does not mean I raped her.” he said. 

Helen nodded, looking down at the floor. “I know...from experience what that look is like. To look at the marks and want to escape…” she admitted, rubbing her wrist anxiously. “And when you said she ran...I just assumed. Forgive me.”

Nadir looked her up and down a frown forming on his lips. He sighed, looking between them as he waited for The Phantom to speak. When he did not, he bit his lip. “Erik...say something for Heaven’s sake.”

The Phantom, Erik, looked at Nadir when he said his name so openly in front of a trespasser. He looked towards Helen, his shoulders slumping slightly. “You did not need to tell us that.”

Helen shrugged, giving them both a small smile. “It was forever ago.” she said sadly, walking over to Erik and holding out her hand. “My name is Helen Draiz, Monsieur Erik.” she said. “I hope you can forgive me.”

                                                       ~-~-~

The next day Helen had been requested by Christine Daae instead of doing her work. The brunette complied, now walking towards her bedroom. As she walked, the hairs on her neck stood up tall, sensing eyes on her. She hesitantly looked over her shoulder to examine her surroundings only to find no one watching her. She bit her lip, speeding her pace as she tried to escape the watchful gaze as quickly as possible. 

Knocking on Christine’s door, she waited anxiously for a reply as the staring continued. The blonde woman answered the door, pulling her in and shutting the door quickly, locking it. 

She then spun to face Helen, her eyes wide. “What did you do?” she hissed, pacing her room. 

“What?” Helen frowned, crossing her arms. 

Christine gulped, freezing in her place, anxiously watching a corner that was shrouded in shadows. “He visited me this morning. Begging for forgiveness. What did you do?”

Helen frowned, slumping her shoulders at the thought of The Phantom begging for forgiveness. Her comment must have really upset him. “I...accused him of something I shouldn’t have. I apologized almost immediately after but...it must have stuck with him.”

Christine nodded, hesitantly taking a seat after examining the shadows more closely. She wrapped her arms around herself, anxiously biting at her lip. 

Helen watched her carefully before going over to the bedside table and examining the new bowl of berries. She had eaten nearly half. She sighed, tracing her fingers along her neck. “Christine...you should go off to rehearsal.” she told her softly. 

The blonde lifted her head towards Helen, frowning. “I’m the page boy. I have no lines,” she said softly, slowly peeling her arms away from herself. 

Helen sighed, nodding slightly. “How about we walk around the city then? We can talk some more about our...predicament with our friend.”

Christine scoffed lightly at the last word Helen used before nodding. “I would like that.” she replied.  

Helen grinned, nodding. “Then let’s get you ready, shall we?” she replied, going over to the blonde’s closet to pull out a dress for the girl. Christine settled on a light blue dress that complemented her blonde curls and soft features. After the corset was tightened, Helen helped Christine slip the dress on. 

Christine chose to wear a pair of her white laced boots and finished the look with a white hat. She gave the maid a sheepish smile before examining her uniform. “Would you like to borrow something?” she offered. 

Helen blushed, gazing down at her simple attire compared to Christine’s. A white blouse with a black skirt was what she wore, her apron thrown on top. She hesitantly shook her head, peeling the apron off. “Thank you but I wouldn’t want to ruin any of your dresses.”

The blonde woman nodded and followed Helen out of her room to explore the streets of Paris. They traveled down the stone paved road, chatting amongst themselves over several topics. Christine told Helen of her lover Raoul, who was the patron of the opera house, and how they had been childhood sweethearts. Helen told the girl of her situation with Henry and how they had traveled from America in hopes of adventure. It was originally just going to be her, but Henry insisted that he come along. 

When they stopped at a cafe for some tea, their talking started getting less lighthearted and more serious. Christine had explained what had happened to her for that week she went missing. She and Helen had shared their experiences with The Phantom, soon learning that they both knew his real name. Erik had fallen in love with Christine as he taught her how to sing like an angel. He had tricked her into believing he was the angel of music and a friend of her deceased father’s. Christine had taken off his mask and he in turn lost his temper. According to Christine he shouted curses at her, chasing her around his home before grabbing her wrist. Then he fell down to his knees and started sobbing, hiding his face in her skirts. 

Helen tried to imagine The Phantom breaking down in tears in front of her. Tried to picture the face Christine tried explaining but gave up after she said, “corpse-like,”. The brunette girl nodded understandingly as they shared their hushed stories. 

When the clock rang at 4:00 they decided to head back to their home. Helen walked Christine back to her room, insisting she eat and drink more. If she was to surpass Carlotta then the new prima donna would have to be healthy enough to outshine her. 

                                                  ~-~-~

Helen sat anxiously in box five later that night, writing down in her journal. She sighed as she looked around the dark box, expecting him to be here like he has the few other times. She waited impatiently for him for 45 minutes before giving up. She stood from her seat and grabbed her things before leaving the dark box. 

She walked across the stage silently, freezing when she heard a few laughs from where she was heading. She narrowed her eyes at the area, trying to decipher who it may have been. Not to her surprise, she saw it was two stage hands, drinking away happily. 

She rolled her eyes and was about to continue walking when she heard a whisper come from her right. “Not that way Mademoiselle.” urged the man’s voice. 

Helen turned her head towards the darkness. She gulped as she felt someone's eyes on her, watching her from the shadows. “Monsieur Phantom?” she asked quietly, walking towards the voice. “Is that you?”

“Yes Mademoiselle Helen. You mustn’t go near them. They’ve been drinking since noon. No doubt they’d take advantage of a lonesome girl.” he replied, holding out a hand for her to grab in the small amount of light. 

Helen hummed, taking his hand. “Thank you,” she replied, linking arms with him. 

The Phantom nodded, pulling her into the shadows. “Let’s find you a different way to your room.” he said quietly, eyeing the two men drinking. 

Helen followed Erik closely, gnawing on her lip. She couldn’t imagine having to go through something like that again. For them to hear yes when she said no. She closed her eyes as she tried to force the memories from her mind, unconsciously gripping onto his arm. 

Erik felt her grip tighten on him and gently placed his other hand on top of hers. “You’re safe Mademoiselle. I won’t let that happen to you again.”

Helen let out a shaky breath, nodding. “Thank you again…” she whispered, opening her eyes. She walked beside him in silence as he led her down a hall, stopping in front of a wall. He placed his hands on it, searching for something. When he finally found it, he took a hold of it and pulled, revealing a secret passageway in the wall. 

He led her down the passageway silently. The only sound was their breathing and their footsteps. 

Helen bit her lip and looked up at the masked man, trying to imagine what Christine had told her. She lowered her gaze to their shoes, suddenly feeling very guilty. She had accused him of rape. She had seen the tears in his eyes. 

“Monsieur Erik…” she whispered, tossing her dark hair over onto her shoulder as she stopped walking. “I just wanted to apologize for last night again...is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

The Phantom watched her as she shifted from foot to foot, fiddling with her hair. He bit his lip, straightening his posture. “I’ve forgiven you Mademoiselle. You don’t need to do anything.”

Helen wasn’t satisfied, taking a few steps closer to him. “Please. Let me do something for you.”

Erik took a step back at their closeness. “There is nothing I want.” he replied sternly, crossing his arms.

Helen pursed her lips before sighing. “Not even a cup of tea?”

The brunette knew she was being persistent. She knew if she went back to her room she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep for hours. “Please. I just want to talk for a bit longer.”

Erik sighed before hesitantly nodding. “Fine. Come along now.” he said, offering her his hand.

#PhantomoftheOpera #Phantom #Erik Destler #OC #ChristineDaae #Christine #thephantomoftheopera #thephantomoftheopera fanfiction #Opera

[wingsofkpop]

Finding SKZ - 6: FL00

pairing(s): Hybrid!Bang Chan x Reader, Hybrid!SKZ x Reader

genre: Hybrid!AU, Dystopian!AU, lots of Angst, spoonful of Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, verbal abuse, mentions of physical abuse, flashbacks, mentions of death

word count: 5k

synopsis: After rescuing an abandoned hybrid from his fate of death, he has one other favor to ask of you. Not only do you have to find his eight other hybrid brothers, but you have to keep them safe from the deadly dangers of your city: Miroh

chapter directory 

The Third World War sparked almost a century ago after the leak of a secret terrorist operation against what was known in the Old World as Europe. To this day, the origination of the group, nicknamed R.U.I.N.S., is still unknown. Members of R.U.I.N.S. first began their nuclear attack in London, Britain, where they wiped out nearly 60% of the population as well as completely demolished the lands. The remaining 40% either fled to neighboring countries or died out due to the dangerous aftermaths of the bomb, usually sickness from lingering toxic chemicals or starvation. R.U.I.N.S. moved on to spread the genocide to the rest of Europe and were met with strong resistance from world superpowers such as Saudi Arabia, China, Japan, the United States and Russia. Unfortunately, the influence of the terrorist group spread and planted corruption in the superpower’s government, which would eventually lead to the outbreak of a full fledged nuclear war that killed 95% of the world population, known today as the Mass Genocide… 

You lean away from your laptop screen with a sigh, a dull ache lingering within your eyes. For the past few hours, you had been writing, more like trying to write the research paper your professor had assigned a couple days ago. You wanted to get it out of the way in order to study for the rest of your finals which started this upcoming Friday. 

You meant to do it during the weekend, but you were a little preoccupied with helping your two new additions settle in. The office/extra bedroom had become way too crowded, especially considering you could only fit a twin bed and a tiny air mattress in there. As a solution, you went out and purchased one of those pull out sofas. The one in your living room was old and rotting anyway so it didn’t make much of a difference to you. Plus, it was either that or give up your own bed, and you don’t know if you’re ready to do that just yet. 

Lifting your arms high above your head, your tense muscles loosen as the sickening cracks of underused bones enter your ears. Relaxed, you slide your laptop off your lap and do the same with your legs. Just as you were about to force yourself back into the historical world, your bedroom door opens.

You lift your gaze to watch Hyunjin walk through the doorway, two mugs within his hands. He offers you the pastel yellow one, which you accept with a sigh of gratitude. The fragrance of your favorite tea enters your nostrils and your stomach is already filled with the ghostly warmth of the drink. After taking a well-earned sip, you hum, “Thanks, Jinnie.” 

“You’re welcome, noona. Woojin-hyung said you haven’t left your room in hours.” 

“Yeah,” You nod, gesturing to your computer, “I have to write this paper before Friday. Sorry, I haven’t really been around that much today.” 

Hyunjin shakes his head while taking a sip from his own cup, “Don’t apologize. We know how busy you are this week.” 

Your heart melts at the young hybrid’s words. With a smile, you reach up to caress Hyunjin’s cropped ears. The fur beneath your fingertips is like velvet. Hyunjin releases a breath of satisfaction, leaning more into your pet. Originally, you had been wary to touch his ears, seeing as Chan had made the comment that his original owner altered their shape. But Hyunjin had quickly waved your worry away and welcomed your affection. As did most of the boys. 

“I see who the favorite is in this family.” Seungmin grumbles from the doorway, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. “You’ve barely been here three days and are already getting all the attention.”

“It’s not my fault I’m cuter than you,” Hyunjin chuckles, saluting his younger brother with a lift of his mug. 

Seungmin sends him a playful growl before crossing the room and plopping on your other side. He pulls your phone from his pocket and points to the screen, “I think I found more about Felix. For real this time.” 

When Seungmin said he found Felix last Saturday morning, it wasn’t him. Nor were the other four Lee Felix’s he found. Since you kind of ran out of options, you guys agreed on the conclusion that whoever bought him probably changed his last name or something. That really hasn’t made your search any easier, considering there were a lot of Lee Felixs as it is, but there are even more Felixs. 

“Oh yeah? Let’s see.” 

“So I found three possible houses,” Seungmin pulls up a web page depicting the owners of a home near where your dad lives. He allows you to skim through the information while continuing, “The first one has records of a cat hybrid called Felix that has lived with them for about a year now. The other two are the same, except one records residence for about five months and the last one of two and a half years. All of them are how old Felix would be now.”

Hyunjin hums, “You’re sure one of these could be him?” 

Seungmin shrugs, “Surer than the last ones. It’s not a hundred percent but it doesn’t hurt to try.” 

“Okay,” You nod and turn back to face the beagle hybrid. “What’s the plan this time?” 

“I was talking to Woojin-hyung and Chan-hyung and they thought it’d be best if we split up and go to the homes ourselves.” 

Hesitance immediately fills your veins at his recount. It’s not that you were against going straight to the houses, you’ve done that before, you just didn’t like the whole ‘splitting up’ part. The idea of some of the hybrids traveling through the streets of Miroh without you at their side didn’t sit well within your stomach. In fact, it made you sick. Look at the whole thing that happened with Chan back at the circus. You really didn’t want a repeat of that again. 

“I don’t know, Min… That’s a little-” 

“-Woojin-hyung would go with Hyunjinnie, and Channie-hyung with me. You’ll have nothing to worry about, noona.” 

Your eyebrows furrow, “So that means…” 

Hyunjin nods, “You’re with Minho-hyung. Channie-hyung originally wanted to go with you, but the rest of us thought that it would be better divided this way.” 

In your thoughts, you fail to notice the knowing look both Hyunjin and Seungmin send one another, complete with raised eyebrows and mischievous smirks. Since you were paired with the coyote hybrid, that means you have to be with him… alone. Lucky for you, Minho kept his promise and didn’t tell anyone about what happened in the alleyway or about the things you said. But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to inquire about such things further on his own terms. 

“I mean… I guess that’s fine.” You shrug, glancing toward the screen of your laptop. “Whatever works.” 

Seungmin nods, “Good. Chan said you don’t have class or work on Tuesday, so were figured we could try then.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you reach for your computer and position your fingers across the keys. “Sorry guys, I really need to finish this.”

“It’s fine, noona.” Hyunjin sends you a sweet smile before tugging Seungmin toward the door. “Don’t stress yourself out and enjoy your drink.” 

Only when the door shuts behind them with a click do you free the building anxiety budding within your chest. You toss the laptop away once again and bury your face into your palms. A deep sigh spills from your lips and echoes through your bedroom. The sound couldn’t compare to the loudness of your thoughts. 

You’ve kept everything a secret for so long, but like most, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep it forever. 

*** 

Tuesday came a lot quicker than you really wanted it to. Then again, you did spend most of your time suffering through schoolwork. 

Before everyone went their separate ways, Chan made sure to give Minho a long spewl of making sure nothing dangerous happens to you. You, still embarrassed about the whole bathroom encounter, didn’t have it in you to relay your favorite ‘I can take care of myself’ line. It’s not like you were purposely avoiding Chan, you just happened to have a lot of work you needed to get done… C’mon, you can’t even lie to yourself. 

Your original plan was to stay away from Chan for a bit to let whatever spur-of-the-moment hormones dissipate. But your plan definitely backfired because the longer you were away from him, the more you thought about him. His soft, blonde curls. His gentle touch. His deep brown, shimmering eyes. And the more these thoughts took over your mind, the greater your fear grew. You were supposed to be protecting him and the boys. And thinking about him in such ways was only doing more harm than good. Even if you were behind closed doors, the two of you would still get hurt. They couldn’t stay with you forever. They had to leave someday. 

Still, you so desperately wanted to be selfish. 

A blaring horn awakens you from your thoughts and reminds you of your current setting. You were sat in the back of a taxi with Minho beside you, currently staring out the window. His fluffy auburn, pointed ears were hidden beneath the hood of a new black sweatshirt you bought him. When you gave it to him, he claimed he didn’t want it and would never wear it. Guess he forgot. 

“The sweatshirt looks nice,” You murmur softly, reaching across the space between the two of you to tug on his sleeve. Minho flinches away from your touch and turns his head to send you a warning glance. Defeated, you retract your hand and retire your attention to the passing scenery outside your own window. So much for good terms. 

Bungalow houses pass by your vision in blurs, each one more different than the last. The Felix you and Minho were heading to see actually lived near your father’s neighborhood. Obviously, you wouldn’t be paying him and his family a visit, but it’s nice to see familiarity for once. Plus if things go bad, you actually had transportation to get home. 

The cab driver pulls the car to a stop after a couple more houses and a smaller, red brick and pine wooded home stands in front of you. From its size, you could tell it didn’t have too many bedrooms, maybe one or two, and on top of that, not many rooms at all. The front yard was well kept and filled with various decorations like creepy gnomes and plastic flamingos. There was a single Jeep in the driveway. A good sign. 

You pay your driver and follow Minho as he exits the vehicle. You almost want to laugh as he eyes the lawn ornaments with distaste. You settle with a hidden smile instead. 

The two of you make your way up the driveway, silent except for the gravel crunching beneath your every step. Minho had not spoken a word since you left the apartment and it was beginning to frustrate you. You knew he still had questions, so why wouldn’t he just ask? Why does he have to let you suffer? 

“We’re college students, remember? And we’re interviewing them for a research project.” You turn to see if Minho acknowledged your reminder at all, but once again, you’re only met with the side of his face. A huff pushes past your lips and you quicken your pace to the front door, Minho allows you to go ahead and you wonder if he’s purposely doing it to make you wait. 

You shake your head, “Ready?” 

The hybrid just shrugs. 

That’s answer enough for you to raise your hand and rap your knuckles against the door. You barely wait thirty seconds until the obstacle swings open and reveals a short, pudgy and older woman. Her face comforts to confusion, before a bright smile stretches across her face. 

“Well isn’t this just a nice surprise!?” 

Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard to you, too high-pitched and quirky. You conjure up a kind grin of your own and gesture between both you and Minho, “I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am, but my friend and I are doing a research project for our Biology class on hybrids living in residentials. We were wondering if you had one-?” 

“-Oh yes! We do!” The woman turns back into the house and shouts something that has your ear drums splintering. You glance warily toward your companion before turning back just in time to see another figure enter the doorway. 

And your face goes pale at the sight.  

You didn’t know exactly what Felix looked like, but from Chan’s brief description, this hybrid looked pretty damn close. His hair was a shade of bright blonde, bringing more emphasis to the orange cat ears emerging from the sides of his head. He had a kind face with big brown eyes and rose colored lips. You could also see lines of freckles dotting across his cheekbones and down the arch of his nose. 

It has to be him. 

“This is Felix. Say hi to the nice students, honey.” 

Felix doesn’t say a word, his eyes wide and centered straight at Minho. You peer over to see the coyote hybrid with a similar look, all except his lips were compressed into a straight line. You start to reach over to ground him, but a sudden yelp has your head snapping back toward the other pair. 

“I’m not going to ask again, you little brat. Greet our guests.” Unlike before, her voice is mellow and full of warning. Your eyes trail down to see the woman clutching Felix’s wrist, his skin around her fingers a stark white. Felix inhales an unsteady breath before stuttering in a deep voice, “H-Hello…” 

The woman smiles and nudges him into the house, “There we go. Now go be useful and make some tea. Come in, my dears, let’s talk about this project in the living room.”

Before you can decline her offer, the woman was already grabbing your wrist and dragging you through the doorway. You send Minho a terrified glance, who quickly lurches forward to grab your other hand. He shakes his head, “Miss, we don’t-” 

“-Nonsense. We’ll discuss your project over some tea and cookies.” She doesn’t take no for an answer and quite literally, pulls both you and Minho inside. She seats the two of you in an old fashioned parlor filled with victorian style decorations. The couch you sit on is harder than a rock and very uncomfortable. Minho’s face gave away his pain too. You could only think of his poor tail right now. 

The woman takes a seat in an armchair across from the two of you, pushing her glasses up her hooked nose. She smiles again and speaks, “You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been a while since I’ve had any visitors. Now tell me about this project.” 

You go into this long detailed discussion about this fake project both you and Minho rehearsed beforehand, or you at least did. The woman believes every single word that leaves your lips, her eyes never straying from your talking form. You passed the strange feeling in your gut off as anxiety for Felix. But the goosebumps on your arms claimed otherwise. 

“How wonderful. I’ll help you with anything you need!” The woman leans forward in her seat, reaches toward you and thumbs a loose lock of your hair. “My, what a pretty, little thing you are.” 

Instantly, you recoil from her touch and scoot closer to Minho. You laugh awkwardly, trying not to physically cringe, “Oh, thank you…” 

“My son would think you’re just absolutely divine. You should meet him!” 

Minho feverishly shakes his head, “I don’t think-” 

“-He gets home at five. You can stay until then.” The woman grins radiantly, oblivious to the expressions of shock on both you and Minho’s face. When Felix enters the room, she turns her head and nods, “Ah, good boy, Felix. Put the tray on the coffee table.” 

Felix does as he’s asked, placing his porcelain tray on the table separating Minho and you from the adjacent woman. The cat hybrid goes about pouring a couple cups of tea and plating some cookies, his orange tail limp behind him. 

“Cream or sugar, love?” 

You shake your head, “Uh, no thank you.” 

Felix hands you one of the teacups, his fingers brushing yours. You lift your eyes to meet his gaze and you feel your heart practically break in half. You’ve never seen so much sadness in a pair of eyes before, and it made you think back to how the woman was grabbing him. You immediately weren’t in the mood for tea. 

“Perfect. Now let’s get on with this little interview.” The woman leans back in her chair and snaps her fingers. Felix sinks to his knees where he’s stood and takes his own seat on the floor. You eye the vacant chair next to the woman but don’t say a word. 

Minho clears his throat, discomfort laced through the sound, and nods, “O-Okay… Well, how long have you been living with Felix?” 

“Oh no, dear, you have that wrong.” The woman shakes a single gnarled finger toward the hidden hybrid, “Felix has been working for me for almost a year now.” 

You can’t help but glance toward the boy. His eyes haven’t moved from the floor. 

“Right…” Minho hums, “...How has that been?” 

“Oh well, he tries, I suppose.” Your hostess shrugs and sends Felix a disappointed look. “In my opinion, human slaves were much better than hybrid ones.” 

You try to suppress the anger burning within your core by digging your fingernails into your palms. Swallowing the retorts on your tongue, you send Minho yet another wary glance and force yourself to listen to the older woman’s words, “Sometimes we have some hiccups here and there, but-... Darling, aren’t you going to drink your tea?” 

“I will, I just-”

“-Take a sip, love. Just one.” The intensity of the woman’s gaze sends chills coursing throughout your body. The weight of the cup between your fingers seemed to grow heavier and heavier. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Felix slightly shaking his head. His eyes wide with fright. 

You shake your head with a small laugh, “Actually, I’m not-”

“-It’s rude to deny your hostess, darling. I said drink the tea.” 

At her tone of voice, your hands began to shake. Memories flash within your mind like a firework show, a familiar voice taking over hers. Though your logic and common sense were screaming no, your body disobeys and soon the bitter liquid is cascading like gasoline down your throat. You regretted the decision as soon as you felt the tea sit within the depths of your stomach. 

The smile returns to the woman’s face, “See, was that so bad? How was it?” 

You nod, “Good. Very good.” 

“Wonderful.” 

A tense silence overtakes the atmosphere. You feel yourself cowering beneath the woman’s still smiling face. You slide your hand over to Minho’s knee, squeezing at the flesh in warning. He covers your hand with his, returns a gentle squeeze then rises from his seat, “I think we’re actually going to be leaving now.”

The woman pouts, “Already? My son hasn’t come home yet...” 

“Miss, your son isn’t coming home.” All eyes turn to at Felix’s deep voice. He shrinks beneath the glare his owner sends his way, but he continues to speak, “He died a couple months ago. You know that.” 

Goosebumps spread across your skin at the absolute fire burning within the woman’s eyes. She growls, “What do you know, you useless punk. You know nothing.”  

“Don’t talk to him like that.” More gooseflesh arises when you turn to peer back at Minho. His second set of teeth was visible, showcasing his sharp incisors. He bares them toward her and hisses, “Felix-ssi, you’re coming with us. Let’s go.” 

“You can’t! My son! I swear to the Lord I will…” 

As you’re rising from your seat, a sudden wave of dizziness rushes over your body and dulls your senses. You could vaguely hear the woman threatening to call the police before your knees buckle and you collapse into Minho. The hybrid catches you, his face immediately contorting to concern, “(Y/N)-ah, what’s wrong?... (Y/N)-ah!” 

“The tea. I laced it with a sedative.” Felix rushes forward, helping Minho keep you upright. Tears of panic were streaming down his face, he sobs, “I’m so sorry, hyung! I had to!” 

“Shit, just… Hey!” 

The last thing you hear before fading into darkness was a large crash and Felix’s scream. 

***

You’re in a closet. The closet. Darkness cradling you like a blankets. The shadows are your guardians. They keep you hidden. They keep you safe. 

Crash after crash. Scream after scream. Covering your ears does nothing. The sounds are engraved within your mind. You can’t escape. 

“Somebody help me!...” 

“Come here you fucking slut! I’ll teach you a fucking lesson!” 

“Please! Stop-ah!...” 

Tears spill down your cheeks like blood. You hide your face in the crease of your knees, which are pulled to your chest. It muffles your helpless sobs. In the dark. You are the darkness. 

“(Y/N)!...”

“Shut up, pathetic whore! I’ll put you in the fucking ground, pathetic piece of shit!” 

This nightmare will never end. Your demons follow everywhere you go. 

You can’t escape. 

“(Y/N)-ah?” Your eyes snap open at the call of your name. Minho’s face enters your vision which makes you realize you weren’t in a closet at all. He tilts his head, “(Y/N)-ah? Can you hear me?” 

You nod, “Y-Yeah. I can.” 

“Can you sit up?” 

“I think so.”

With Minho’s support, you’re able to easily maneuver your body into a sitting position. A throbbing headache hits you head on (mind the pun). You clutch your head with a groan, feeling sick all of a sudden. It’s like that time you woke up after bar-hopping with your friends. Worst hangover ever. 

When you manage to adjust to the pain, you take the chance to look at your current setting. You were in your bedroom, in your bed. Felix was sat in a chair a couple feet away from both you and Minho, his concerned eyes directed your way. 

“I shouldn’t have drank that goddamn tea,” You groan, massaging at your pulsing temples. “What happened?” 

“After you collapsed, shit hit the fan.” At Minho’s retort, you notice the small gash decorating his forehead. It didn’t look like it needed stitches which was a good thing. A really good thing considering the situation you are in. “We were able to lock her in a room long enough to get the hell out of there. I wanted to take you to the hospital, but Felix-ssi said no.” 

You shake your head, “But why? I-I don’t understand…” 

“She’s troubled…” Felix’s deep voice wrenches your attention away from Minho. At your gaze, he looks away, almost as if he couldn’t meet your eyes. “Ever since her son died, she’s been so…” 

“Bat shit crazy?” Minho offers.

The other hybrid shakes his head, “She just… wanted companionship… Even so, I’m so sorry.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart.” You wince as you swing your legs over to sit upright on the side of your bed and better face the male. You send him a soft smile, “It wasn’t your fault.” 

Felix nods, but you can still read the guilt all across his face. You decide not to press and turn back to Minho, “Did you let the others know?” 

He nods, “Yeah. Everyone’s outside. Channie-hyung wanted to come in, but we thought it would be better for you if we were the ones to explain what happened.” 

You try not to notice how your heart flutters at the mention of the wolf hybrid. You clear your throat and shrug, “Yeah, I get it. Thanks.” 

The two of them take your statement of gratitude as a permit to leave the room. Felix meets your eyes before he steps through the doorway, almost as if he were about to say something, but decides against it and completely rushes from the room. Minho also seems to hesitate, locking eyes with you before following his feline brother.

You didn’t like the knowing look you saw within his eyes. 

Before you can think too much into it, another figure enters the room. Immediately, your cheeks start to burn and your heart race began to pick up. You will yourself to remain calm as the newcomer makes his way across the room to sit on the mattress beside you. Your attempt, though a good effort, fails. Because when you lift your gaze to connect with his, you’re immediately done for. 

“Hi…” 

Chan chuckles, “Hi…” 

You purse your suddenly dry lips, licking at the course flesh. You try to think of something else to say, not liking how the silence matched the beat of your heart. No tangible thoughts entered your mind though. Which is why you’re thankful Chan was the one to break the silence, “How are you feeling?” 

“Oh, I’m fine.”  

“You sure? You were asleep for a while.” He lifts his hand to caress your hair back, his hand trailing fiery touches down your cheek. With his thumb, he rubs the skin just beneath your right eye, probably taking the dark lines beneath them. “Four or five hours actually.” 

“Trust me, Chan, I’m okay.” You chuckle, grab his wrist and pull his hand away from your face. Your gaze trails down to your lap as you swallow at the stone in your throat. “I’m okay.” 

As the quiet stretches on, you can’t help but think about when you were last alone with Chan. When you could feel his hands on your skin. His breath on your cheek. His lips… 

“Stop.” 

Chan furrows his brows, “What?” 

You shake your head, “N-Nothing… It’s nothing. I just-” 

“-(Y/N).” Your rambling ceases when the hybrid places both hands on your elbows, pulling you toward his body. “What’s wrong?” 

Putting your hands against his chest to avoid him pulling your bodies any closer, you shake your head feverishly, “We can’t do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“You know what, Chan.” You sigh, “This… whatever this is.” 

Chan remains confused with his silver ears pulled back, his eyes a blend of concern and wonder. He removes one of his hands to lift your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet. The more the feelings inside you stir, the greater your fear grows. You feel like you’ll suffocate. But fly at the same time just sat in his arms. 

“Your heart is beating really fast.” Chan murmurs, placing his free hand right over your pulsing organ. His other travels up to cup your cheek again, your face fitting perfectly in his palm. He sends you a small smile, “Don’t fight it, (Y/N). Don’t be afraid.” 

Tears well in the corners of your eyes. You don’t know why you’re crying, but you do know that you can’t stop. Each tear creates a river down your skin. A river of fear, sorrow and love. You don’t like feeling this vulnerable. Especially in front of him. Your whisper is filled with raw emotion, only audible enough for him to hear, “I don’t want to hurt you, Chan… And I don’t want to get hurt…” 

Not again.

“Do you trust me?” 

You close your eyes with a sob, more droplets escaping your eyes. Even so, you can’t help the smile that contorts upon your lips, “More than anyone I have ever known.” 

“Then will you trust me if I tell you that I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to kiss you right now.” Chan laughs, and the breath from his joy paints stars across your skin. You feel as if you were beneath a trance, only seeing him and only wanting to see him. “(Y/N)...” 

He leans closer and closer until your lips are barely centimeters apart. One slip, and they’d touch. But he doesn’t deplete the space, and instead murmurs softly, “The world has taken anything and everything from me… And maybe it’s wrong, but for once, I want to be selfish…

“But I need to know you feel the same way.” His chocolate eyes bore into your own, and you swear you can see another universe hidden within the irises. A universe full of love, and life, and pain, and even death. You don’t see what the world chooses to see, but something that it chooses not to see: A beautiful creature that has lost everything, and is slowly gaining it all back. 

The two of you aren’t so different in that sense. 

Defeated, you shake your head, “This is a bad idea.” 

Chan smirks, “Maybe. But an even worse idea is not kissing you this time.” 

“Then kiss me.” You whisper, “I trust you.” 

No sooner had you spoken the words did Chan diminish the remaining space and connect your lips to his. All hesitation and panic from before disappears in the actual act, and you can’t help but lean more into him, craving more of his touch. Your hands fly into his soft curls, like the many times you’ve wanted to before, and your bodies just mold into one. You’ve kissed a couple other people over your years, but none have ever felt like this. And as cliche as it sounds, you could spend hours just kissing Chan’s lips. 

Your first kiss felt like hours honestly. And even when it ended, you could still feel the ghost of his lips hovering over yours. The two of you simply stare into one another’s eyes, before Chan kisses you. Once. Twice. Again and again until it may have actually been hours that passed. You didn’t want it to end any time soon. 

It may have been selfish, but you didn’t care. You felt safe. Peaceful. Loved. In ways that you’ve never felt safe, peaceful and loved before. With Chan, the pain life has brought and will continue to bring dissipates into passion and longing. It was as if the world only held the two of you. 

Nothing else existed. Just him and you.

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