#MAN I SWEAR WHEN THIS CONVERSATION HAPPENED I WAS SWEATING BRICKS IN WORRY

[daily-hanamura]

[hopeamarsu]

Of potions and myths

This is for the lovely @clydesducktape​ and her CDT celebration challenge. Congratulations on your milestone my darling! ❤️  

I thought I was just going to write a small blurb, but it got out of hand a little, oops. I also decided to try my hand in something else entirely, namely a whole new character. I hope it’s not rubbish.  

My picks: Mythical creature - Love Potion - Blind Date

Will Miller x f!reader (eventually if I can manage a chapter two of this)

Word count 2,1k

Warnings: Predatory behaviour, dangers of date rape drugs and drugging (nothing happens, don’t worry!), alcohol, magic, mythical creatures are known, strong tension. Please let me know if I missed anything! 

Chapter 2

“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you,” A deep voice rumbles behind you just as you straighten your body to get back to your drink and continue your date. Your eyes widen, flitting between your drink still on its coaster, your date who looks like he’s about to sweat through his button-up and the stranger standing to your left, one huge hand hooked around his belt buckle and the other twisted outward a little, displaying his intricate tattoos. 

He looks calm on the outside, posture all relaxed as he holds your gaze for a moment before turning his eyes to your date and you can practically see them turn into ice and stone. You follow his gaze and take in your date, how the collar of his shirt looks a tad too tight and the perspiration gathering at his hairline. He’s very nervous for some reason, you think but remain silent, waiting for more information.  

The blond stranger nods towards your drink, sitting all innocent at the bar top, water pooling around it. “Saw him drop something in your drink as you were turned away.” Despite his calmness, the voice is laced with venom, the ice in his eyes burning as he regards your date with disdain. With slow, deliberate movement, he picks up your drink and gives it a small whiff. 

“Love potion.” Two words that turn your world upside down. 

It had been a blind date, set up by your co-worker who had assured you that their friend was good and kind and cute, when you first hesitated accepting the invitation. And it had been an okay date so far, if a little lacklustre in conversation. He’d talked more about himself and his work than engaging you in conversation during your two-hour in the bar together. You’d already given up on the idea of a second date, but tried to humor yourself and him by not cutting the date short even if only to please your co-worker, trying to at least make it work. 

But to hear he’d tried to lace your drink with love potion? Oh hell no. 

“Give me the drink,” You order in a low voice, holding out your hand for it. The blond man agrees, passing the drink to you and you bring it to your own nose, picking up the notes under the alcohol. Once you are certain the stranger is indeed right and you know exactly what the potion was supposed to do to you, you turn your body to look at your date fully. 

In a flash of a movement you tip the drink upside down and pour it down his crotch, ice and all. When he yelps and jumps up cursing, trying to salvage the light chinos, you stand up as well and push the empty glass into his chest, growling in his ear.

“You absolute fucker! Next time when you try to use a potion to make someone fall into bed with you, do it with someone who doesn’t study potions for a living. Or better yet, don’t do it at all.”  

With another push at the date, you step around him, not sparing him a second glance. Your mind is screaming for you to run, hide and maybe get shitfaced at home to avoid the humiliating feeling already creeping up your spine and you rush away out the door. 

The cold air hits you full force and you need to lean back towards the brick wall, trying to gather your shields and thoughts as your mind wanders into unsavoury grounds. Had it not been for the stranger looking out for you... Like called upon, the blond man steps into your eyesight, arms loose and his posture unthreatening even when he fills the air around him with restrained power. 

“Are you alright?” 

His deep rumble feels like balm against your bleeding wounds and you lift off the wall to fully look at him again. He is taller than you, his blond hair cropped short and his full beard trimmed close to his skin but showing how full it is nevertheless. His eyes search for signs in yours and you feel your mental shield drop a bit as you drown in his blue orbs. Your hand shakes by your side when you let out a soft sigh. 

“I’ll be soon. Thank you, for what you did. I didn’t even notice.”

“He was sneaky, using the moment you checked for your phone. I’m glad I caught it, it was very fast.”

“The phone!” You exclaim and dig hastily through your pockets to find the object in question. You turn the screen to him, showing the blank email notification still up on the phone. “The bastard had this all planned. I can’t believe it.” You shake your head in disgust, another wave of cold fear running inside your veins. 

“Do you wish to report him?” 

“I don’t know…” 

“Unauthorized use of a Class B potion is a felony,” He points out casually and you have to nod at his words. It’s true and given that you could also smell the undertone of aphrodisiac potion in the drink as well tells you the man was either playing with fire combining these two potions together or had done it before and gotten away with it and he should be brought in for his offenses. 

“If only I hadn’t poured it down his pants. Now there’s only my word against his and who will believe a researcher over… whatever hell he is. I don’t even know if he is mundane or someone who practices the arts.” You feel dejected and upset at yourself. Even after all these years mingling with the supernatural you still don’t know all the clues you need to pick up upon to pinpoint someone.  

“Don’t worry, it’ll all turn alright. You have me as a witness, I have a pretty good idea on what he practices,” The stranger tells you, offering you a wry look. He holds out his hand and introduces himself as Captain William Miller, part of the Delta Force and you suck in a surprised breath. Delta is known all around as the elite of the elite, almost exclusively recruiting non-mundanes and mythicals into their ranks and if he’s made Captain within them, he must be at the top of the chain.

“You’d do that for me?” You manage to ask after introducing yourself. William, Will as he asks you to call him, give you a reassuring nod and you find yourself relaxing a little more. He steps closer and suddenly you feel tendrils of something wrap softly around you, offering you reassurance and protection. You find yourself leaning into the sensation, lowering your shields even further to enjoy them snake up your arms in soothing motions. 

Your eyes flip up to his and as they lock into place, you swear you see something red flicker in them for a second before the dark ocean-blue hue hides it. Almost like the opposite sides of a magnet, you are pulled closer to one another until your back is pressed against the wall again and he stands right in front of you. 

The tendrils are followed by his hand ghosting up near your bare arm as he cages you into the wall, one hand up over your head. “I don’t know what it is, but… Something draws me into you,” Will murmurs as his lips nearly graze your forehead. “I feel it too,” You answer him, your eyes falling shut as the sensation on your skin turns from soothing to electrifying. Something powerful hums between your bodies, just waiting to claim its prize.

He doesn’t touch you and you don’t touch him, both of you knowing unconsciously that the second you do, all bets are off. Your body calls to him and he is clearly having a tough time not answering the song. You can see how he struggles to keep his composure, his eyes flickering to your lips and your neck and back to your eyes. One of his hands curls into a fist as he breathes your scent in, his nostrils flaring at the combination of your natural musk and the bar you’ve left behind. 

You struggle against the pull too, trying to gather your shields again but it’s so hard when you want to drop them completely for him. You desperately want him to swoop down and just kiss you, erase everything and anything that is not him. It makes your head spin, the intensity of it all and you are glad of the wall offering you support and grounding you so you won’t fly away.    

“Allow me to take you home and come pick you up tomorrow? We’ll go and report the creep first thing but now I need to know you are safe. I need to keep you safe,” His voice grows husky, tender and possessive and you shiver under his whispered words. 

“Please,” you mumble, unable to deny his plea. With great effort Will pushes himself off you and steps away a little, your head clearing as the distance grows between both of you. It seems to have a similar effect on him as the hue in his eyes lightens. You can still feel his presence tingling in the base of your skull and you are already itching to explore your books to find more about this unexpected and intensive connection you seem to share with the handsome Captain.  

He gestures towards his car and you walk side by side to it. As the engine roars into action, you can feel the air get thicker as you are once more in close proximity. You want to open the seat belt and touch him, sink your fingers into his hair and feel the beard scratch along your chin and neck. One look at his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel tells you that you are not alone in your thoughts and it makes heat flare up inside you. 

By some miracle, or his ironclad will, he gets you home, following your quiet instructions to a tee. As you step to the curb, you feel the intensity simmer down again and file it away for later research. You turn to the open window after closing the door and offer your thanks for the ride and for catching the would-be predator. He has one hand still on the wheel anchoring himself in place, and just as you are about to turn around and walk to the front door, he speaks out your name.  

“After you’ve filed the report, can I, uh, can I take you out for a coffee?” Will sounds almost bashful as he speaks. Is he afraid you’ll deny him now that your mind is a bit clearer? You know he felt the magnitude of whatever it was surrounding your bodies earlier too. You can clearly see the remnants of it on his body pulled so tight, the muscles tense and poised to pounce under his Henley. You chuckle softly before offering an affirmative. 

“I would love that.” 

“Good! Great. Wonderful.” Will coughs to hide his eagerness. “I’ll pick you up in the morning then?” Now it’s your turn to nod, before bidding him good night. You feel his eyes tracking your every move as you walk away from the car, every cell in your body rebelling against the movement of your legs. It takes all of your concentration not to rush back but to finally open the door and step inside.

The lock clicks into place and you sigh as you rest your forehead against the wood, hoping you’d invited him in. But for now, this is for the best, you remind yourself. You have some research to do. You need to get to the bottom of this connection before anything rash can happen. No matter how much you wish for it to. 

Hours later you step into your bedroom and a soundless whisper calls to you from the window. You walk next to it and push the curtain to the side a little. Will’s car is still parked on the same spot where he left you and even if you can’t see his face, you see his figure in the front seat, reclining a little as he’s gotten comfortable.

He’s going to be there all night, you realize suddenly. It should feel creepy, but it only fills you with warmth. He’s going to keep you safe, just like he said.    

[hannie-dul-set]

wc: 3.9k | warnings: swearing, some violence, cheating mentions

it was past noon when you and seolhee parted ways after eating lunch at an admittedly over-priced restaurant. you two decided to go out because she was leaving the school in two days. the whole jeno incident led almost the entirety of the student body to deem her not too fondly, so even if you wanted her to continue her education here, it would only be hard for her to cope with.

seolhee said that she did not expect jeno to apologize for the things that he did, but you still had your hopes up. which was why the conversation you two had over lunch made you feel a lot lighter inside.

("he said sorry! oh my god, i'm still thinking that it was a dream."

you let out a laugh at your friend's upbeat demeanor, reaching out to a napkin to wipe your lips. seolhee accidentally hit the table from her excitement, but luckily none of your drinks toppled down. "well, he could do more than apologize," you started. "maybe make it up to you by clearing up the situation that happened at the cafeteria so that you wouldn't have to transfer."

a slight frown tugged down the corners of her mouth. "an apology is enough for me, really. that much already means a lot considering his personality. and even if he does clear it up, i've already enrolled at eastwood so there's no undoing it anymore."

you placed down your fork, looking at the hazy expression on your friend's face, and then you opened your mouth to speak.

"do you still like him?"

seolhee choked on her drink.

"no!" she hastily wiped away the stray droplets that made their way onto her chin, staring at you as if you've just accused her of a crime. "of course not! oh my god, y/n—" there was a red hue that washed over her face, and you couldn't hold in your laughter. "i—i was just happy that jeno has the capacity to change. he actually seemed genuine, you know? it was the first time i've seen him like that."

seolhee droned on about how the confrontation went. you didn't get to listen even though you were on the line with seolhee— after hearing jeno's intentions of asking her to meet, you ended the call to respect their privacy.

"he told me that i could punch him if i wanted."

"did you?"

"i would've ended up with a broken hand."

giggles erupted and the clacking of utensils followed after. you finished your meal before her, taking a sip from the remaining liquid in your glass with the straw. it was still quite early, so you figured that you still had an ample amount of time to talk.

"i'm glad that everything turned out well for you, seolhee," you started, placing down your glass on the table. "but remember not to sell yourself short. you shouldn't be satisfied with the bare minimum."

"i know…" she sighed. "that's the most we could get out of him at the moment, and i'm satisfied with that. actually, i don't think he would have even done anything if you didn't reach out to him. so thank you, y/n."

seolhee held gratitude in her eyes as she looked at you, and you pressed your lips together into a thin smile.)

you stared at your phone as you sent your last message to seolhee, walking down the sidewalk on the way to the bakery that chenle and jisung always went to. they were close with the owners, apparently, but you've never gone there until now. the smell of freshly baked goods sent you the signal that you were nearby, and you confirmed upon seeing the lines of pastries displayed from behind the glass windows of a cream painted building.

it was a quick purchase, your hands now full thanks to the three boxes of assorted pastries. you were sure that they'd fight over it if you only got them one— so getting one for each of them would be much better. the other one was for you to bring home to your parents later.

"thank you so much, taeyong! i'll be sure to stop by often," you shot the handsome man behind the counter a smile before turning towards the exit.

"bring the kids with you too! they haven't gone here in a long time and i'm starting to think they've forgotten about me," you laughed at his words, nodding, before finally facing the glass doors that led outside. taeyong was nice, and you were already planning your next visit here. there was brightness in your face as you reached for the door handle, though with great difficulty considering the stack of boxes that you were trying to balance with your other hand.

you were about to push the door open, but you froze, brows furrowed, and the brightness of your face dimmed down. there was a scene going on from across the street— four people ushering themselves into an alleyway. normally you wouldn't be as affected, but you knew these people, and an ominous feeling buried itself in your gut.

"taeyong?" you turned around once more, eliciting a curious expression from the older male. "can i leave these here for a while? i'll be back, there's just something i need to do."

he was evidently confused by your sudden request, but he relented without any questions. you thanked him one last time before finally exiting the bakery, making your way across the street.

"had fun fucking my girlfriend last night, lee?"

it was difficult for donghyuck to maintain his carefree composure when he was shoved against the brick wall with his ribs and jaw throbbing in pain. sweat trickled down his forehead and his hearbeat rang in his ears. he wondered how the fuck was he supposed to get himself out of this situation. 

"look, hyunsung. i get that you're pissed, but let's tone down the violence, yeah?" donghyuck let out a wave of nervous laughter, raising his hands in front of him in surrender. "i didn't know she had a boyfriend! so can you really blame me?"

that was a lie. donghyuck knew well that cheonhee (or whatever her name is) was, in fact, taken. someone from the party last night told him so but he didn't exactly give much of a fuck. he thought it would be fine because they were from different schools, anyway— but it looked like he was being too careless.

hyunsung still had him trapped against the wall by the collar, the bigger male's glare drilling holes into his skin. donghyuck knew he wouldn't make it out alive if he made a run for it. he wasn't that strong or fast, and the damned neanderthal still had two other friends to back him up. all donghyuck could rely on was to somehow fool him into letting him go.

but even that didn't seem easy.

"you think i'm gonna believe that, you little bitch?"

donghyuck's blood ran cold and the grin on his face twitched. he felt his lungs squeezing in suffocation when he was pushed harder into the concrete walls, even if what he was saying was true, hyunsung was seeing too much red to believe him. a fist was raised, and he prepared himself for the impact of the third punch.

"kim hyunsung, jung hayoon, and kang jiho."

a gentle voice somehow stopped hyunsung from moving. a mixture of confusion and relief washed over donghyuck, but that was quickly overturned by unease. he froze. he knew that voice, and he internally cursed.

oh my fucking god, were you stupid? at that point, donghyuck decided that being punched would have been the much better option. why the hell were you here? and another question— how did you know these people? worry was writhing inside his gut and he bit down his lip as he watched you walk closer to the scene.

"i didn't expect to see you again, y/n," hyunsung's attention was momentarily diverted to you, but he was still helpless pinned on the wall. jesus fuck, this guy was strong. your gaze quietly moved over to donghyuck, and he hoped that you got the message that he was mouthing. hyunsung leered at him, which brought donghyuck to quickly shut his mouth.

your lips tugged down into a frown. "and i expected that all those corrective sessions with the dean would've at least made a dent into that personality of yours."

hyunsung scoffed. "righteous as always. you know this fucker?"

"he's a friend," you calmly stated, and donghyuck narrowed his eyes. what were you planning? "and i suggest that you let him go."

there was a phone in your hands and the screen was open. he couldn't see what was on it, but then you flashed it over for him and the other three boys to see. "i believe you were already at your final warning before i transferred from daeil academy."

donghyuck could see hyunsung's jaw clench as the guy glared at your phone, and it caught his intrigue. on your tiny phone screen was what seemed to be an open conversation with someone, and on the message box were a series of similar pictures waiting to be sent. donghyuck couldn't see the pictures clearly, nor did he know who were you planning on sending it to, but he got the gist of situation.

"hayoon and jiho might not get any major punishments," your eyes flickered over to the two boys, and they froze upon your stare. hyunsung's grip tightened. "but you're already on your last thread, hyunsung. you'd be expelled once the dean sees this."

at that point, donghyuck concluded that you were very very scary. but you were also very stupid for getting yourself involved in his own problems. no matter how much leverage you had over hyunsung at the moment, a guy like him would still find a way to get back at you.

"you've already done a number on the guy. don't you think that's enough?" you reasoned. "this isn't my business in the first place, so i won't send this if you let him go."

hyunsung's glare was as cold as ice.

"delete it."

but you didn't seem to be shaken at all.

"of course."

you sighed, explicitly showing to him that you permanently deleted the evidence from your phone. hyunsung finally let go of donghyuck, and he released a long breath, hid hands gently nursing the bruise on his face. the pain on his jaw and chest was momentarily dulled by his fear that you'd also get pummeled, but it once again resurfaced and donghyuck flinched at the throbbing feeling.

"you're still the same, y/n," hyunsung let out a bitter chuckle, signalling the two other boys to start moving, and you sent him a nod and a smile.

the three eventually left, but donghyuck still hadn't moved from his spot. he stared at you who seemed to be frozen in thought, that is until you released a sharp huff of breath and your knees nearly gave in to the floor.

"oh dear god, i thought i was going to die," you exhaled, sauntering over to donghyuck who was ready to catch you in case you actually did fall over, but you shot him a glare to stop him. "don't move— you're hurt."

donghyuck gulped and firmly nodded in obedience. you found yourself before him, but you didn't say anything further yet. you didn't scold him or ask him if he was sleight. instead you had your yes locked on your phone, fingers tapping down before shutting it off and shoving it down into your pocket. you finally looked up to him, and your brow raised upon seeing his puzzled expression.

"what were you doing?"

"sent a message to the dean."

his eyes widened. jesus, you were seriously scary. before donghyuck could press on any further, you quickly snatched his hand, staring over to the only opening that led out of the alley. "c'mon, let's go."

you already started walking before he could even retort, dragging the flabbergasted male behind you. "w-wait, where are you taking me?"

there was no answer from you, instead you just kept on walking and donghyuck was left with no choice but to follow.

“will you two be okay?”

“mhm! thank you so much, taeyong!”

the both of you were hidden in the furthermost area of the bakery, donghyuck sitting on the available chairs with a pack of ice firmly pressed against his bruised jaw. taeyong had been generous enough to let you two stay here for a while (the ice was from his, as well), and you promised to buy another box of pastries to thank him, to which he firmly refused with the shaking of his head.

“just make sure you get the guy home safe, okay?” he told you before going back to man the store. you concluded that taeyong was perhaps the nicest person you’ve ever met, and you were suddenly worried by the idea that chenle and jisung might have extorted this man’s kindness somehow (the former, mostly).

“y/n.”

donghyuck’s voice— lacking the confidence and cockiness that it usually held— called out to you amidst your thoughts. your ears perked as you sat before him, leaning forward in your seat and your eyelashes fluttered as you waited for him to continue. he wasn’t looking at you though, eyes in a faraway daze as he looked at the bakery’s sleek wallpaper.

“thanks for saving my ass earlier.”

he muttered, a slight pout on his lips as he did. donghyuck couldn’t bear to look at you at the moment due to his stained pride, but he isn’t that prideful to miss out on actually thanking you. It was genuine, though the embarrassment of you seeing him so helpless was still present. he was suddenly afraid because you weren’t saying anything, but then the sound of your chair screeching as you closed in on him happened, and all he felt now was confusion.

“what are—” donghyuck was about to look at what the hell were you doing, but when your hand gently made contact with the non-injured side of his face, turning his head to look at your worry eyes, the words he was about to say fizzled into air in his throat, leaving his mouth agape in fluster.

“it’s fine, hyuck. does it still hurt?” the rapid pace of his pulse when you brushed away the ice pack in his other hand to examine the dark bruise somehow made him even sensitive to the pain when you mentioned it. he flinched, unable to say anything. “ah, this is gonna last a while. you should drink some painkillers in the meantime, okay?”

donghyuck gulped. oh my god, why were you so close. your soft voice flooded not only his ears, but his entire being and it felt like he was drowning in your presence. the pain that was screaming under his skin was blocked away, numbed into nothingness because all he could feel was how his heart was running to follow you even though you were already so, so close.

he wondered what the fuck was going on with him.

all of a sudden, he felt like an absolute idiot. how would people react upon seeing the rumored fuckboy, lee donghyuck, flaring up at something as innocent as this?

he needed to pull himself together.

“ah!" donghyuck made a hissing sound when your fingers brushed over the area again, instinctively jumping away from your hold, and your brows furrowed in worry. he pouted at you, pressing the half melted ice pack to soothe his jaw once more. "i don't think ice and painkillers would be enough to get rid of the pain, y/n."

instantly, your eyes widened in panic. "oh no, does it really hurt that bad? should i take you to the hospital? oh my gosh, what if it's broken? donghyuck, how much does it—"

"maybe you should kiss it better."

there was silence.

your voice stopped midway, mouth hanging open and you deliberately put it to a close. a cheeky grin was painted on donghyuck's face, one that made it look like he wasn't feeling any pain at all. he noticed the worry on your face being slowly washed away, replaced by your lack of emotion, and you stood up. once more you decided to move closer, walking up to him and barely hovering over and— wait a minute, were you actually gonna do it?

he didn't think about it this far, oh my god.

"wait. y/n, i was just— jesus fucking christ—"

"you deserved to get punched."

donghyuck let out a yelp of pain, hunched over as he hugged his torso. he forgot that he was also attacked on the ribs and was only reminded when you mercilessly jabbed your finger to his chest. he looked at you as you went back to your seat, letting out another groan. “did you just hope that i was also injured here or did you actually know and deliberately subjected me to pain?”

“the latter,” you hummed, crossing your legs. “i was watching from the beginning.”

“so you just let that bitch hyunsung attack me?”

“like i said— you deserved it.”

there wasn’t a hint of jest in your voice and features, meaning you really waited until the last moment before you decided to swoop in. donghyuck bit down his lip, unable to meet your eyes. you were there from the beginning meaning you knew why hyunsung was about to beat the living daylights out of him. suddenly he felt like he didn’t deserve to be saved by you.

"but why did you still help me?"

he was genuinely wondering why you did that. you let him get beat up for a while before deciding to finally get between, but why? it really didn’t make sense to donghyuck, and his heart hammered against his pained ribs while he waited for a response.

“did you really think i was just gonna leave you like that? hyuck, you’re my friend and i care about you.”

what was supposed to be an answer only raised more questions.

“but— but didn’t you say i deserve it?”

“i thought that two hits was enough.”

donghyuck was flustered by your responses and he didn’t even know why. people either sided with him or were against him yet you were situated at both boundaries at the same time. it was a kind of combination that brought him to a place in his head that he’d never been before. you probably noticed the flurry of emotions swirling in his face, so you decided to speak up.

“donghyuck, are you alright?”

“o-oh, yeah,” he shot up under your worried gaze, and he pressed his lips together before speaking. “thanks again for helping me.”

he felt like he wasn’t worthy of your kind smile. “a-also, can i ask a question?”

“go on.”

“don’t you think that i’m like… a shitty person?”

donghyuck was afraid of your response. he was afraid of hearing that you’d agree even though he knew that he was really a terrible person. more than anything, he was afraid of what you thought about him, actually.

“i don’t think so,” you said. “but maybe you’ve done a lot of things before that would be considered ‘shitty’.”

he was genuinely surprised by your answer.

“it’s never too late, hyuck.”

it was quiet for a moment, but it was welcome. donghyuck took this time to think for a moment, to actually get in touch with the mess that had been long ignored in his head. he looked at you as you silently busied yourself with your phone, lips pursed in a manner that had his chest tightening. as if you noticed him staring, you shut off your phone and faced him.

“i think we’ve been loitering here for too long,” you breathed, a sheepish smile on your face. “should we go?”

donghyuck nodded before scrambling to get up. he went over to pick up the boxes neatly placed on the table beside you, but you quickly smacked his hands away. “what?”

“do you think i’m gonna let you bring all of this while you’re injured?”

“y/n, my hands are fine. didn’t you watch as my face and chest got brutally assaulted?”

“you’re still hurt, hyuck,” you protested. “also i’m not letting you go home by yourself. what if hyunsung decides to come after you? do you have anyone to come pick you up?”

donghyuck bit down his lip at your question. he wasn’t planning on going home and he somehow knew that you weren’t going to let him off easily if he told you that. there were many options that flooded his head on what he should tell you— maybe he could say that he’ll head to his dad’s company so that you wouldn’t have to worry, or maybe he can call renjun or jeno pretending that it was his mom.

but for some reason he didn’t want to lie to you.

“um,” his eyes were trained behind you when he spoke. “i don’t really want to tell either of my parents to know what happened... and i don’t want to stay at home, either.”

surprisingly, you didn’t press any further.

“okay,” you assured, and he sighed. he didn’t think that one simple okay could make him feel lighter. “still, i don’t like the idea of letting you off on your own. why don’t we call one of your friends?”

wait a second—

“should we ask jeno? wait, maybe we shouldn’t bother him for now.”

donghyuck’s face paled.

“what about renjun? ah, he might be busy today.”

god, please no—

“oh, let’s ask nana! maybe he’d let you stay over at his to rest for the time being.”

he wanted to stop you, but you were already calling him, and his blood ran cold. there wasn’t a problem with him staying over at jaemin’s— he was actually planning on doing that, anyway. the problem laid on the fact that jaemin would probably kill him once he found out that you were with him. donghyuck was too dumbstruck by the situation to even realize that wait— how did you know jeno and renjun? you even had their numbers? what the fuck?

“thank you so much, nana! i’ll text you the address,” there was a smile on your face when you were talking to him, and donghyuck didn’t want to get rid of it by telling you that the person on the end of the line was probably scowling at your request right now. that would also mean that he’d have to tell you that jaemin had been trying to pursue you, and he didn’t want to get in the middle of that.

so all he could do was smile and nod as he waited for his friend’s wrath.

but much to his surprise and relief, it never came. because the moment jaemin arrived to drag his ass to his house, he seemed to be too distracted by you to even look at him. he noticed something different from his friend; the bright gleam on his face when he looked at you was something he had never seen before, and it welcomed a feeling that he had never felt before.

“thanks again, nana! i’ll see you two tomorrow,” when you finally parted ways, donghyuck expected to finally be berated by his friend for, once again, not listening when he told him to stay away from you, but all that happened was the dimming down of his previous elated demeanor.

“let’s go?”

jaemin uttered without a trace of anger or malice or anything— and donghyuck was more unnerved by this. he nodded in response, wordlessly trailing behind his friend as he went over to crash at his place for the umpteenth time that week.

AN EYE FOR AN EYE // A HEART FOR A HEART

as they say, what goes around comes around. so when you break a hundred hearts out of the selfishness of your actions— be prepared to get your own heart broken a hundred times, as well.

24 // kiss it better

a/n: it’s 12:30am as i’m typing this and i’m just about to shut down oh my god ayways i hope you enjoyed this part!! some hyuck action hehehehe i’d say more shit but i’m really so tired rn so good byE

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[jiikyu]

Taste of Marigolds In Bloom

Herb of the Sun — Or Marigold was often used during the Middle Ages as a love charm. Carrying one of these brightly colored flowers was thought to bring love. Though be warned for they are also poisonous. Chapter IV. Sitting in the back of a police car was not how you anticipated your night ending — And certainly not with Mirios arms wrapped around you all the while. You’re not sure how you got here. ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ All characters are 18+ Yandere!Mirio x Fem!Reader(AΩβ) Y/N = Your Name F/N = Your Full Name E/C = Eye Color H/C = Hair Color

Warnings: Yandere / Unhealthy Behavior / Delusions / Angst / Possessiveness / Violence and uh Fluff? First Chapter Here❦ Previous Chapter Here❦ Next Chapter Here ❦

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ “Oh hey!” Mirios leans his arm against the doors frame. “Isn’t this a lovely surprise.” “Hey, do you wanna come to Nabezos with me?” Your question takes him by surprise and he feels his arm slipping. It’s raining. “Sure, let me grab my jacket.” ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ The little droplets from above mean the sidewalks are clear of people, it’s not often you practically get the city all to yourself. When Mirio agreed to come with you to the popular restaurant off campus grounds, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. It wasn’t like you to swing by unexpectedly, at least not without some form of prior acknowledgement. Like a text. What’s even stranger was that you wanted to go to Nabezos, in the rain. Maybe it’s nothing to be get riled up over... The conversation flows in it’s usual lighthearted manor with you both throwing in the occasional jab. It’s normal. But if that’s truly the case then — Why won’t his heart stop hammering violently against his ribs? Somethings not right. He just knows it. Mirios pace starts to slow to a crawl, and little by little it all together stops. And you had been so close to making it to Nabezos, maybe two blocks down the sidewalk? Suddenly his appetite is gone. When there’s no respond to your corny joke do you turn to see the blond fallen behind. Everything about it feels so very wrong. Standing like motionless his yellow umbrella rests loosely in his grasp, shoulders slouching forward. But — You catch sight of something that freezes the blood in your veins. Tears threaten to spill from those blue pools. How had this happened? Only a few seconds ago were you chatting like normal. This proves all of your fears and suspicions, that there is something deep troubling Mirio. That’s why you were doing this right? You were going to do your best to gently coax out whatever was bothering him. Had you already messed up? The gap made between you wasn’t large by any means but by gods do you close it fast. Abandoning your umbrella to ground below as shoes splash against the wet pavement, now your standing before him in the rain. “Wait Mirio what’s happening? Why are you crying?” “Y/N...” His voice has been reduced to a rasp whisper, the usual optimism drained and you can see the bottom of the well. “Are you leaving?” Huh? The question confuses you even further. That cannot be the root of the problem, a small idle conversation between you and your friend could not have been the cause of this. “What? Of course not!” As much as you want to stay in Musutafu — Your words are not quite the full truth, are they? “Well I... I don’t actually know yet.” Do not make promises you cannot keep. The way he kneads his lip with his teeth, suffocating any sound from escaping, it does nothing but further shatter your heart into tiny fragments. If this continues you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to put the pieces back together. You’re about to speak again when the blond does the unexpected. Taking a deep breath he exhales, then the corners of his mouth upturn. It is nowhere near as radiant as his signature smile, and you know it’s not real. But now it’s his turn to close the gap. Taking the step forward Mirio dips the yellow umbrella so it no longer hangs over his head but yours. The thrumming of his heart drums against his ears, he’s sure you hear it too. “Y/N, what if I told you I don’t want you to go?” Oh. Wait? Does that mean? Oh. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. “I —“ The soft pitter-patter of raindrops against the umbrellas canvas matches your own heartbeat. Fast and light, like suddenly you’re floating. You watch the collar of his gray gym shirt start to darken with moisture and droplets catching in that sunshine soaked hair. You swallow down your shame because — You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life. “I would say, I feel the same.” You’ve never seen someone visibly light up the way Mirio does when those words leave your lips. The very words he oh so desperately needed to hear. Was that all it really took? No, he must be dreaming. “Really?” The single word is laced with so much hope it’s palpable, it’s followed by a sniffle as he brings his thumb to wipe away a stray tear. “Of course idiot!” Your own eyes start to blur and you blink them away before it’s too late. “Now stop it, you’re gonna make me cry!” Your fingers grab a hold of the umbrellas metal handle, just above Mirios hand. You push it towards him, so it’s no longer covering only you. “There, now we can both stand under it.” Sure, both of you have a shoulder that’s going to get absolutely drenched, but do you care? No. Mirios eyes go big when you do this and you swear you see literal stars dancing in those pools of blue. You’re so blissfully unaware that everything you’re doing only furthers you both down this spiral. He’s staring at you like you’re his entire world. And he wouldn’t change a single thing about you, for anything. “Aw you’re such a softy Y/N.” “Wha — You were crying first! You started it.” It’s not fair. He really does have the most contagious smile you’ve ever seen. Hand in hand you and Mirio continue to make your way to Nabezos, your own umbrella is left forgotten to the rain. ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ Dinner had gone so well that you’re left giddy and boy, does it show, your smile never once falters. Not even when the scent of cigarettes and alcohol starts to overflow your senses. Currently you’re leaning against the outside of Nabezos, the buildings bricks now having imprinted into your back. Awning overhang keeps you dry from the rain while your eyes stay trained to the bright screen of your phone. Sun having started its descent the color slowly begins to fade from the sky. But you’re not worried, campus is only a few blocks away.

And you have Mirio.

Now you’re just wait on him, who, being the forgetful man he is forgot his wallet at the table you had eaten at. Never in a million years would you believe someone as breathtaking as Mirio would return your feelings. 

Your happiness leaves you blind to the world.

“Hey are you d-deaf or do you just think it’s cute to ignore someone talking to you?”

Huh? Only when you look up from your phone do you realize there’s a man, who you don’t recognize, staring directly at you. Your mouth is suddenly dry. The stench of booze and smoke is so strong your nose is set ablaze. You can’t help but take shallow breaths. When had he gotten so close? Were you really that oblivious to your surroundings? Your pulse is racing but you don’t move, maybe if you continue to ignore him he’ll leave you be. What a stupid idea. Suddenly your wrist is grabbed, phone slipping from your grasp and it falls to the pavement. And now you’re trying desperately to yank yourself from of his grasp. But his fingers have an iron clad grasp around your limb. “What sort of game are you trying to play?” He’s shouting at you and you have no idea what he’s going on about, you just want to get as far away from him as possible. Your eyes barely catch the flash of yellow that appears over the drunks shoulder and before you know it he’s no longer holding onto your wrist — Or rather he was flung off you by an impact to the gut. The stranger lets out a cry as his back slams against the hard concrete below. You listen to him cough and sputter for air, but you don’t look — Your eyes stay glued to your savior. Mirio. Besides the loud grunting coming from the man who just got his guts rearranged, it’s eerily silent. You cannot see the blonds face, so you can only guess what expression he wears... But something feels off and that scares you. You finally tear your eyes away from Mirio when you hear the other stand. The stranger regained his footing but why isn’t he running away? Isn’t it enough? Mirio hasn’t moved an inch since landing the first strike, standing between you and the man. A shield. Neither move for a while, just staring each other down and you can see the sweat beading down the strangers face. You never would have expected Mirio to be the one to break the stalemate. Basically just straight up breaking into full sprint towards the stranger before banking a quick left. “Oh shit —“ Is all the man manages while raising his right arm, taking shaky aim at the blond, some sort of liquid ejects from his fingertips? Mirio makes it look so incredibly easy to dodge, the inky black substance lands somewhere in the shadows. Forgotten. The man does not get a second shot. An earth shattering blow lands under his chin and you swear you hear an echoing crack of bone against bone. And just like that it’s over — Or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Anyone would be knocked unconscious by the sheer force. But Mirio doesn’t stop. What if I told you I don’t want you to go? Those are the words that come to mind as your E/C eyes follow Mirios fist. Over and over again it connects with the strangers face. Time slows like some form of torture, you watch the man take each crushing blow. As you watch the blonds knuckles begin to turn a dark crimson. And you do nothing but stand frozen, a bystander, a participant. Even the ability to speak is lost to you. Only when the terrible sound of blood starts to bubble up from the man’s throat does Mirio finally release his white-knuckled grip from the shirts collar. Without the Alphas hold the unconscious body rag-dolls to the pavement below. God, does the sickening thud make you shudder in disgust. Now it’s just you — And the man who has only ever showered you with warmth and overbearing kindness. Towering over the bloody pulp of a man he stands with his back towards you, chest heaving as he attempts to recapture his breathing. Your mind is so vary far away right now but somehow, somewhere in your anxiety riddled state are you able to produce a single cohesive repeating thought. It’s something that comes so naturally it almost terrifies you, you might even loath yourself later for it... You cannot help but be frightened, not for the beaten man lying against the cold pavement, no your fears are for Mirios safety. For his sake. When he turns to face you you’re met with the burning blue of the ocean. And within seconds you swear you see the raging sea already starting to simmer. Your feet stay planted as your hero takes the first step towards you. Even if your life depended on it you’re not sure you’d be able to move an inch — Though it’s too late for that now, isn’t it? By the time you notice he’s practically all over you, but there is an invisible wall of tension that keeps him from touching. With the back of your shoulders pressed against the brick wall there is no escape from the cage of muscle surrounding you, thick forearms having rooted themselves on either side of your head. Every instinct screams at you, to run, to submit, to hide, to do anything useful. Maybe you’re broken. Instead, you find yourself entranced, E/C eyes trace along the scars of those very forearms keeping you trapped. The healed skin darkened where deep gashes once bled. Following the perfect blemishes to the meat of his shoulders you accidentally meet deep iris pools, completely and utterly awestruck. The expression Mirio wears is one you’ve never seen before. You want to tell yourself that it’s the shadows casted down by the looming cities walls — Or that’s it’s just the dark clouds raining down on you. But... You’re having a difficult time convincing yourself. “Are you hurt?” A low breathless whisper pulls you from muddy waters, dredged up from the murky depths of your mind. Was that Mirios voice? He’s close, so close, his ragged breathes ghost across the bare skin of your neck. Your eyes fall to the filthy lot concrete, where you’re barely able to make out the motionless mans shape. Why is it so hard to see? You hadn’t even noticed your eyes gloss over, fat tears already rolling down your cheeks. “M-Mirio you —“ The pain in your voice has his chest twisting in agony. Sharp thorns digging into the delicate flesh. Seeing you like this hurts worse than the searing ache in his knuckles. But it’s okay. Because you’re safe. The thin threads holding him back finally fray and snap. Mirios arms abandon the wall behind you, pulling you flush against his broad chest, muscled arms wrapped around your frame. “It’s okay. I’m here now.” His head rests atop your own, you feel his lips move against your locks as he continues to reassure you. “I’ll always be here — I promise.” You won’t ever have to be worry again. Being held only makes the flood tears worse, when your body melts against his so does the last bit pf willpower holding the dam together. Slowly you begin to hiccup into his shirt, your arms shakily wrapping around his neck, falling further into the embrace you feel his arms tighten. And now your balling in a empty public restaurant parking lot with a bloody unconscious body only a few yards away. The dying rain isn’t strong enough to wash away the scent of copper. ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ Blinding red and blue lights flash across the cities walls. When you speak with the police — Well actually, it’s not so much you speaking with them as it is you listening to Mirio tell them the details of what happened and offering a weak nod when they wanted your input. You haven’t spoken much since exhausting your lungs and draining a lakes worth of tears onto Mirios shirt. His eyes keep darting to meet yours between every couple of words. You watch on as the blond speaks clearly and calmly with the officers, you envy his ability to do so. He’s even able to smile as if nothing happened — You finally tear your eyes away, choosing to look at a lone anthill, inches from your foot. The weight of his jacket keeps you semi-warm as you stand under the overhang of Nabezos, the smell of ocean and sun clings to the leather, you pull the fabric tighter around your shoulders. You had watched as three first responders wheeled the stretcher to the waiting ambulance. As soon as its doors slammed shut the siren blared to life and the vehicle sped away. It was a good sign you tell yourself. A sign that the man was alive. The invisible weight on your shoulder lifts, if only by a hair. “Do you need a ride home?” The question snaps you from staring at the pavement. A male officer, possibly a Beta? It’s hard to tell in the rain, he has kind eyes. There’s no time for you to search for an answer before a firm hand finds itself planted the deputies shoulder. Mirio now stands behind the rather startled man, all smiles of course. Though something about the curve of his lips doesn’t sit well with you.  “That would be great actually, can you give the both of us a ride?” It takes you a second to realize he’s answering for you. “We’re both headed the same direction.” “Of c-course.” The officer shakes away his initial fright by the time he finishes speaking. And you still have yet to process what’s happening. ∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ Sitting in the back of a police car was not how you anticipated your night ending — And certainly not with Mirios arms wrapped around you all the while. You’re not sure how you got here. But what you are sure of is that there isn’t an inch of you that doesn’t smell like the Alpha. He’s been scenting you ever since entering the vehicle, practically pulling you into his lap. It’s not so uncommon amongst friends — Although, you’re no longer just friends, are you? His hand could wrap around your wrist two times over. The blond has a delicate touch as he traces the pad of his thumb over your skin, he holds you as though you’re porcelain. The entire time your eyes are glued to the red busted skin of his knuckles. An uncomfortable clearing of a throat breaks the moment. You had almost forgotten about the police officer who so politely offered the ride home. You blame it on overactive instincts, that this is probably the norm, it’s a lousy excuse and you know it. And a part of you, one that you’re desperately trying to drown under the surface until there is no oxygen left, knows instincts are not the only thing at play here.

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘ When Mirio told you he’d be staying the night at your place you thought it had been an offer. Not a fact. You remind yourself that you know Mirio. Know that he would never hurt you, that he’s only looking out for you. That’s why you agreed. 

So what if your every attempt to convince him you’d be fine staying alone was disregarded. Right? 

You stare into the mirror, letting the sink fill with water. Paying no attention to the temperature you soak a hand towel into the ice cold liquid. Bringing the damp fabric under your eyes you wipe away the last remnants of tears marks. The soft knock on the door startles you from your haze, looking over you notice the shadow of what can only be a pair of feet peeking under the thin frame of wood. “Are you okay?” Mirios voice may be muffled behind the wood but it’s impossible to ignore the worry bled into every syllable. “Yeah.” Your own voice is still raspy from your crying, it reminds you how weak you truly are. “Just give me a few minutes... Okay?” “I’m here.” What you can’t see is the large hand pressed into the creases of door. “When you’re ready.” The outside noise seems to die down with that and you listen to the static of the running water as you strip out of your soaked clothing, peeling the wet material from your skin. The jacket that had kept you warm now hangs off the tubs edge. ... Mirio stands guarding the entrance of the restroom. Like a good boyfriend. Foot tapping nervously against the carpeted floor. This is all so new, usually the hero is in full control of his actions. But now — Every passing second is another nail plunged into his coffin, he might have really screwed up big time... And just when the two of you had finally become official. He doesn’t know what took over. But he does. When saw you cornered by some low life — He only remembers the feel of white hot burning rage coursing his veins and the look of terror in your eyes. He really dropped the ball hadn’t he? He doesn’t regret it. Not even for a second, he’d do it again, for you. His only regret is scaring you. Suddenly his foot stops its anxious drumming. It becomes apparent to him that — With you in the bathroom he has full range of your dorm, unsupervised. Not that he would do anything fishy, of course not! It’s just the first time he’ll get to appreciate your little temporary home. 

A glimpse at the future you’ll share.

Waiting by the door for another minute he takes the first experimental step away from his post, waiting with bated breath. Nothing. The only sound is the continuous running of a faucet. It’s the only sign he needs to continue onwards, down the hallway. By all means it’s not a long journey, in only a few of feet does the blond find himself in front of a cracked door, a dim light streams through the gap. With a featherlight touch he pushes it open to reveal what he’d hoped for. Your bedroom. He’s not disappointed, the room is so very you. It smells like you. Even when Mirio’s absolutely drained he can’t help but admire every little detail, even down to the lone sock lying forgotten in the center of the floor. A tired smile makes its way to his lips as he goes to pick it up, tossing it in the hamper sitting only a few feet away, a smile resting pretty on his features all the while. How forgetful you were. He doesn’t mind this, in fact quite the opposite — He can’t help think it’s quite domestic. Who knew he’d windup such a hopeless romantic? Before the blond knows it he starts to wonder what living together would be like. It really can’t be helped.

Mirio can almost envision you seated at his table waiting while he cooks your favorite meal, it might take him a couple of tries to nail but he’s anything if not persistent — Or perhaps, waking up to morning kisses with your legs tangled in knots. Maybe one day a couple of children that share both your and his qualities pop into the picture. He understands how silly it is all is, that he can’t help but feel as though he’s already been living this life with you. Too bad it doesn’t last. The sweetest of daydreams are cut to shreds when blue eyes catch the unmistakable flash orange and white of a bottle. On your nightstand are your suppressants, sitting carelessly for all to see. After staring for what is probably considered far longer than normal a not so innocent thought just sort of floats its way into his system and... Suddenly Mirio’s being crushed under the weight of something tremendous and hideous. Guilt. He could never. Everything’s falling into place, just the way it’s meant to. But — Some stranger had basically gone and flipped his world upside down in the matter of seconds. That drunk bastard leaning in close you, probably whispering dirty words to you... His fist clenches into a tight ball, knuckles still burn from the impact of skin against skin. God only knows what that creep was gonna do? That filth had tried to take you from him, there is no mistaking. Was it some sort of cruel joke, turning the best day of his life into one of the worst? A bead of sweat breaks along his brow as blue eyes continue to stare down the bottle of white pills. Fear has got Mirio in a chokehold and right now it’s a losing battle. You are someone he wants — No, needs to protect, that’s why he can’t stop but think... What would he do without you? He doesn’t notice his fingers have started moving on their own volition. Mirio cannot picture a world without you.

[lucky4in]

Magic Interferes in New Orleans

Prompts from Piccadilly's book #3

Words used: ☆matriarch ☆throat ☆impossible ☆vinegar ☆apology ☆slice ☆microwave ☆raspberry ☆choose ☆snore

God! I can't take it. The dread is killing me. I'm losing all the blood in my fingers with how tight I'm squeezing the steering wheel. The honking around me is not helping. I can feel everyone's fear collectively as we sit in agitated traffic. Stress. Fault. Jitteriness. Indifference. Panic, panic, panic.

God, I hate being an empath. I can't even hear my own thoughts. I need to breath! Yeah. Take deep breaths. I'm not far from the U-turn lane. So what if traffic is moving 1 millimeter a minute? The storm can't be faster.

Hooooonk!

Beepbeep!

I have to get out of this situation before I have a sensory overload.

From my front and my rear, I'm surrounded by vehicles. I can't move back, I'll hit someone. I can't move up, because they'll think there's space to move and I'll be more stuck than before. Looking to my right I realize the road across the gate is fairly empty. That last car I saw go that way was 40 something minutes ago.

I gulp loosening my grip from the wheel but still holding it firmly in my palms. Taking a breath I turn the wheel and step on the gas. My car races through the grass and crashes though the metal gates. With a screech, my tires are finally rolling and I'm off. Towards the dark clouds like a fool running blindly into a lions den.

When I finally catch sight of the curling palm trees and the flying debris, my weariness is replaced by anger. We had a plan. A simple schedule. Prepare emergency food, water, and medicine, flashlights and documents, locate nearest shelters, fill up gas tank, clear the yard, and turn off the power. When the evacuation order is set, I would be too far away at the time, so my husband would get the kids from home and we...would...evecuate.

Evacuate.

We would meet at the nearest shelter with our separate cars...

Unfortunately, my...sweet...dearest mother decided to take it upon herself to pick up the kids herself...and NOT evacuate. Instead, she wanted her grand babies to feel safe during the storm and cook them a nice meal...at her house.

I almost had a heart attack when my husband said they weren't there. Instead, a note was attached to the fridge reassuring us that my elementary school kids, including a baby, did not infact disappear off the face of the earth. She wants them to feel less threatened and stressed over this "flood nonsense". Make it seem like a regular thunder storm.

Except it's not a thunder storm! It's a hurricane!

I told my husband not to worry about it, I will get the kids and be ok. The hurricane is suppose to be a bad one, the weather man said. Anything left undemolished by the storm by the end of this would be a miracle. Hopefully it won't be my sanity. I swear, she's impossible.

By the time I get to her house, the streets are flowing with water and clawing up her driveway like waves at a beach. I step out and my shoe kerplunks into the water. I groan, feeling my ears eject hot steam. I stomp onto her porch with a squish, squish, squish and jam the key into the lock.

I kick the door open and slam it shut, my anger seeming to accelerate as soon I step inside. I cringe a bit, noticing my youngest asleep on the couch.

"DON'T SLAM MY DO-" my mother sticks her head out through the kitchen doorway and spots me.

"-Oh, hi baby!"

I stretch a tight smile, coaxing my child back to sleep. "Hello, mother."

"You came just in time. I just need to get a few things done before we eat."

And there she is. Like always. Not worrying about a thing while marinating apple cider vinegar on peices of pork. Probably to slice into the-

Sniff, sniff.

-gumbo. Her calm persona was infuriating. Almost insulting.

"Too bad my son in law couldn't be here. He'd love to stuff his face with the beignets" she continues.

"He's at the shelter. Kinda like we're suppose to be" I say, honey tounged and all "which begs the question..." I lean in, my palms face down on the table. "Why aren't we there right now?" I sneer, bringing my voice down.

"Because there's no need to. You know that" she says simply.

"Maybe in your case, but not mine. You just felt entitled to do things your way. Like you always do. I had everything under control and-and you had me worried."

"You know nothing was going to happen to these kids. I knew nothing was really wrong."

"If you really felt so aloof about this, you should have stayed yourself. You can't just up and take my kids like that. We've talked about this."

She finally looks at me, turning away from her task. "I should be free to see my own grand kids whenever I want to."

"I would have probably excepted that, if we weren't in the middle of a god damn hurricane-"

"Momma! Momma look!"

I was interrupted by my two children excitedly telling me that a pie was on the way. All while showing me their hands, proof of a raspberry massacre. Animated. Passion. Triumph. Pleasant. I ruffle their heads with a quick "good job" and they ran off together. Their happiness almost cures my frustration. It does calm me down a bit though.

"Is is so much to want to keep your family safe" my mother asks.

Aaaaaaand its back.

"Is it so much to just listen to me? To just let me do things my way? I am in no less danger than you are just because I dont have the same... tools that you do."

"It looks like it puts you in a lot of danger if you have to evacuate the city. You could simply come here so momma can protect you."

"That makes me look like a normal person, mom. The streets are already flooding and a ton of people just saw me go the opposite direction. I look stupid and suspicious." I'm taken back to my teen years. Having a similar conversation with my mother. "Not everything can be solved with your protection. I can make my own decisions. But instead you undermine me and tamper with everything around you. Just because I dont have it, doesn't mean I cant keep my family safe or simply be a mother. How about, for once, you let mother nature do her job."

"Your father made this house with his bare hands, rehydrating himself with his sweat. No one is touching this house. Not even Cosmo's or Gaia or whatever." She huffs and turn away. A puff of steam emerges over her head, indicating she opened the pot of Gumbo.

"Well, when your the Matriarch, you can start making the rules around here."

Realizing an apology isn't coming, I groan restricting myself from wrapping my hands around her throat. Its silence between us, as there is after every altercation. Especially when the house is mentioned, cause it's always Papa's house. He passed away before I could even learn to speak his name. Mama always told us about Papa. How she met him, how he put her on her feet and built a house for her (it was told he even built the bricks holding this house up), how his devotion to his family and the love of his life lasted until death did them part.

"What makes you think I'm going to be the next Matriarch?" I ask, slipping in the kitchen chair.

"You will. It's a family tradition that you need to uphold. And you are the only girl conceived by me." She answers, this sounds almost rehearsed.

"Why don't the others take your place?" I ask, for the millionth time.

"It's only rare that a boy has ever been in place of a woman. And once a girl was brought in, he was removed immediately."

"If it's that simple then crown them and get it over with."

"Oh, do you think it's that easy"? She quizzes, slowly turning to me.

"Knowing you, probably not."

"Hyde is much more coordinated than that. If they really didn't think you were worthy, we would have known, but I always knew you were special."

Here she goes again. Hyde,, is supposedly the person that gifts the family with magic, life, and girls. It's the spirirt who thrones and dethrones us. No matter who we are. According to mom, the next Matriarch could be good or bad, Hyde has a plan for them in the end.

Along with Papa's stories, Hyde was always directed towards me because I was the only girl, excluding my half sister. Truthfully there was no way to know if Hyde was actually real. I'm not even sure if my parents have seen it. Mom would tell me tales at night of different women throughout our generation, chosen by Hyde and how I would be like them someday.

Perfect.

"Hyde doesn't give you this gift for no reason" mom reassures "they always have a plan. You can't see everything in a negative light. What if Hyde chooses Clio and you-"

I stop her at the mention of my youngest name.

"I'm not putting that responsibility on my kid" I say sternly, though It probably won't matter what I tell her "Especially if, no offense, she ends up like you. Completely dependent on Hyde's gift. IT didn't give me any when I was born, like the rest of you, and I'd like it to stay that way."

Silence once more.

"Perhaps you're afraid-"

"I'm not afraid-"

"-its okay."

"-Of this imaginary ghost."

"Sure, keep believing that. But when it happens~" she sings.

"When it happens to me, pigs will fly" I sneer, memories of that same sing song tone prodding at me.

She says nothing.

"Just let it go mom, it's just not meant to be. I'm not a child that you can hide under your wings when hail comes. However your gifts came to be, Hyde, the house, whatever, it must've skipped a generation."

She continues to stir. She sputters "but-but the family-"

"-The family doesn't know what's best for me and neither do you. I know I'm the only daughter to the Matriarch. I know I wasn't born with any gifts like my siblings. I know refusing my path makes me an ungrateful child and Hyde will handle me" I say reciting what I also heard throughout my life "But that's not my life. And I'm not defenseless."

She freezes. More silence.

"And, I mean, it's not like having voodoo is easy. It consumes you and it messes a lot of things up. This worlds order and the next."

"That's what the council is for" my mom mutters finally.

"Oh, right. The council. The same family who's just as dependent as you. Do you even remeber a time where you haven't used your gift and actually did things yourself?"

...

...

"Don't you ever think of letting go of this life? Doing things for yourself and not the family? Hyde? Papa's house? I notice how this changes you as you age. If this is the answer to our problems I wouldn't mind the sea taking this house away for a while-"

"Mama! Mama!"

"Wow, look."

I follow my kids voices and they seek for me, a glimmer of wonder and awe in there wide pupils. My 2 boys are pointing to the window in the living room. My sleeping child is now up, standing on her toes to see what her brothers are looking at.

As I begin to walk In the living room, they're rushing back to the kitchen. I take a peek and see a part of the lawn, including my rental car but the road and the neighborhood is gone. A large amount of visible debris is covering up the world around-

No.

No.

That's not debris. That's not wind.

I follow my kids. They've opened the screen door and ventured into the back yard. I race after them and stop in my tracks. The water barrier has followed us to the backyard. My kids are screaming and dancing in the sprinklers as the hurricane is trapping us in its second eye. The oceanic barrier is circling around is, refusing to touch the property. With my kids instructions I look up, the sky is dark above us like it's the dead of night, yet inside the barrier, its murky like a cloudy day.

I can't concentrate. Excitment. Curiosity. Shock. Chills.

I sigh as my daughter wobbles to me and I scoop her in my arms. I can see it now, worst hurricane in 6 years and the Crobitt house still stands. This is similar but not related to the instance when a pair of swings at the run down school across the house seemingly froze in the air a few years ago... CIA is currently investigating...

I gather my children inside, they were starting to go towards the rushing ocean and who knows what'll happen. I shut the door with a defeated sigh and sulk at the table. The beneits sit gracefully with their powder sugar and I worship it by stuffing it in my mouth.

"I told you..."

I look up. My mothers eyes are glowing that familiar bright green and she has that devious smirk on her face. She always gave me that look as a child as if she's trying to tell me something. That, or it's to prove something, which I still dont know. I dont think I ever will.

"...you're father built this house. No one is taking it from me..."

...

...

"Now, elbows off the table."

-------

If you like to write or be creative, perhaps you need inspiration, go check out this book! Its the best!

[matildashoney]

Loving You’s the Antidote: Chapter Eleven

MASTERLIST // MOODBOARD // TAG LIST // TAGS // PLAYLIST

TAG LIST: @cock-a-doodely-doo, @ihearthemcallingforyou​, @goldenfeelin​, @detroitkiwis​, @wherearethewatermelons​

talk to me about it! feedback is greatly appreciated!

this chapter contains themes of sexual content please read with caution.

author’s note: there are no words to describe what a despicable time this is in the world, right now. i know this is a trying time, and i am posting this chapter early to hopefully give you space from the negativitiy if you want one. take care of yourself. i love you. i’m here for you. i see you. here is a page of links for you to sign petitions, learn, and donate. i encourge everyone to educate themselves. thank you for reading.

Going out was fine in the beginning.

Talia and Mylie were sat in the chairs opposite Amelie, their drinks nursed in their hands, talking about their boyfriends and their lives and their jobs. Her phone is vibrating every so often, likely from Harry, but they’ve already given her flack for not going out with her friends enough – even though she sees her best friend nearly five times a week – and always being attached to his hip when they’re together – which makes sense when he’s out of the country about six months a year – and it’s made her too anxious to excuse herself to check it. Harry would understand when she explained it.

“Can you tell me what you two are staring at or are you just going to keep looking past me like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Getting a weird vibe from this guy that’s been staring at you all night,” Mylie says, squinting to try and get a better glance at who it was. “Don’t know, maybe I’m seeing things.”

“Anyways,” Talia interrupts, trying to break the underlying tension that is hovering above their table and causing all three girls to draw circles around their glasses, “How’s Harry? You two alright? Haven’t seen him in a while.”

Amelie smiles, her lips tingling with the mixture of tequila and the sensation of Harry’s lips on hers. “Harry and I are good. Love that man, I do.” Her teeth clink against the rim of the glass, taking the rest of the drink smoothly down her throat and standing. “Want another?”

“One for me,” Mylie smiles, sliding her glass towards Amelie. “Want me to come?”

“Not that crowded,” Amelie shrugs, taking a deep breath and gathering all her anxiety into her stomach. “I can do it.”

You can do it. Ask for a drink, wait for it, leave. Two minutes max. You can do this. Harry would be really proud of you for going out and being able to do it. You can do it.

Amelie walks to the wooden bar, slightly less crowded than it had been an hour and a half ago when they arrived, Talia and Mylie’s attention turned towards their own conversation. Her arms lean on the sticky counter as she waits, the bartender walking away to make her drinks, her hand reaching into her pocket to grab her phone and message him back, to tell him that everything was going alright. Amelie’s mind is elsewhere, clouded with tequila and rum and the drink that the bartender made when they walked in.

Until a hand lingers a bit too long on her lower back and a breath hits the back of her neck.

Amelie’s muscles immediately tense, dropping her phone on the counter and her head turning over her shoulder, all of the oxygen knocking out of her lungs at the sight in front of her.

“Look at you,” Jack slurs, his hand brushing the curls hanging over Amelie’s shoulder behind her back. “Get rid of that boyfriend of yours, finally?”

Amelie gulps, shaking her head, her hands reaching for her phone, fingers shaking, her eyes drawing out a path that would take her to her friends and they could leave. Her thumb is too sweaty to swipe across her screen, and every breath that she takes seems to be weighted and never make it into her lungs.

“Doubt that he’d ever leave you alone when you’re out. Always has to ‘ave an eye on you,” he mumbles, drawing his fingertip along her arm, chuckling darkly when she shrugs him away. “Must not be here, then.”

“Leave me alone, Jack,” Amelie spits, her tone echoing the fear that is welling tears in her eyes. Harry’s contact was the first on her screen, a few swipes and there would be a message to get him to her.

He steps impossibly closer, their chests touching, his breath hitting her face. His height is much shorter than she remembers, her fingers tapping anxiously against the bar as her eyes try to make contact with her friends or anyone that could see that the situation was uncomfortable.

And before Amelie could realise what was happening, Jack was leaning in to kiss her, his breath hot on her mouth, her head turning quickly as he grabbed her forearm, his lips hard and rough against her cheek. Her lips parted as she squeaked, her hand pressed against his chest, pushing him away. Her vision fades into flashing stars and her cheeks heat, all of the blood rushing to her head.

He stumbles backwards, fumbling into the security guard. His eyes fade into darkness that Amelie doesn’t recognise and there is this pit in her stomach that is making her want to be sick. Her eyes squeeze shut, trying to picture herself anywhere but where she is, anticipating his hand on her jaw and forcing her to kiss him like he likely would have, until one of the bartenders walks towards her, gently setting her hand on her shoulder and nodding towards the security guard, eyeing the situation.

Amelie is barely able to make out the words that are being said to her, only the thoughts about getting outside, to the fresh air, to the one setting where her lungs could get oxygen and feel full. Talia and Mylie nearly run over to her, grabbing her hands and her phone and bringing her outside, their concerned voices making her head feel like it’s going to implode at any given moment. Her hands are shaking as she messily scrambles to call the only person that would understand her, that would help her.

His phone barely reaches a second ring, his breathing slightly heavy through the receiver. His voice is rasped and worried as if the air was knocked out of his lungs the moment she called.

“Harry?” Amelie hiccups, her throat tight and tears falling down her cheeks.

“Doll, what’s wrong?” Harry whispers, his legs swinging over the edge of their mattress and reaching for the nearest trainers.

“’m out and ‘m scared,” she mutters, her breathing shaky as she walks further away from Mylie and Talia and beneath a light, her phone tight against her cheek, her body pressed against the brick wall. “Need to come home, Harry. I need you. I want to come home.”

“Mon ange, ce qui se passe?”

“’m sorry ‘m calling so late,” she chokes, trying to catch her breath.

“Hey, hey, j'ai besoin que tu respires pour moi,” he soothes, his voice calming and talking her through. His fingers brush through his hair, drying the sweat that gathered there. His voice is tense, hating that he’s not there to talk her through her panic attack, to squeeze her hand and remind her that he’s there because he’s sure that she’s near the point where she might go unconscious because of how heavy she’s breathing. “Don’t have to apologise to me. ‘m always here. Can you tell me where you are?”

“’m at some bar,” she says shakily, drying her eyes and trying to see anything she recognised around her. “Haven’t been to this one before, I don’t think. Mylie and Talia wanted to try it.”

Harry is starting to get nervous. He knows her. He is sure that she wouldn’t have called unless something was really wrong. That’s when he knows. He is sure that he knows what was making her feel uncomfortable, or who rather, and the thought alone makes him livid and his fists grip the duvet.

“Can I come and get you? Would that be that alright?” Harry questions nervously, a quiet hum in agreement all that was needed. He walks downstairs, mumbling that he would be right there, his hands reaching for a sweatshirt to toss over his torso to avoid meeting the bitter air. “Getting in the car, now,” he says, his fingers tugging at his roots and bringing it to a knot on the top of his head, the length becoming a burden with the knots and the strands sticking to his forehead. “’m gon’a stay on the phone until we’re together, alright?”

“Okay.”

And the line goes silent for a minute, Mylie and Talia walking over with their boyfriends and talking to Amelie, yet every thought in her head is spinning and she wishes that Harry would talk more to take her mind away from the feeling of his lips on her cheek and the harsh grasp that he had on her arm. His touch stung, cold and bruising, much like a wasp stinging the centre of someone’s chest. Her breathing is shaky, coming in pants, and Harry’s about to swear at every stoplight that he hits on his way to her.

Twenty minutes is twenty minutes too long.

His thumb drums dramatically against the steering wheel, his eyes scanning over the outside terraces of restaurants and bars and the nightclubs scattered in between. “Can you tell me what happened? Can you tell me why you want to leave?” Harry’s fingertips tap against the screen, using the directions to her location to guide him. Hearing her take a breath; Harry isn’t sure he wants to know the answer, even though that’s what he has to do. “Do you want to wait until we’re together?”

Amelie sucks in a breath. “Had fun at first,” she says very slowly, the alcohol evident in her voice, “and all ‘f us were dancing, drinking. Mylie and I wanted more, and it didn’t look like the line for the bar was too crowded, and it was me that offered to go. Felt someone touch m’ back but didn’t know who. Turned around and it was, you know.” Her voice goes silent. “He leaned in and said something ‘bout you, he smelt like booze,” she whispers. “’m not even sure what happened but ‘e went in to kiss me and I pushed ‘im away. I was really uncomfortable, Harry.” He can hear her start to cry, again. All Harry wants is to be holding Amelie in his arms, comforting her. “That’s not, I just. He isn’t supposed to do that.”

“No,” Harry breathes, trying to subdue his anger. He is furious. Only with Amelie’s luck would Jack be there the one night that she decided to go out without him. Jack was the reason Amelie only went out with Jenny or Harry, to begin with. Harry should’ve been there, with her, protecting her. Guilt rises into his chest, his throat, and he thinks he might be sick. “He isn’t supposed to do that. That’s wrong. This isn’t your fault, you know that, right?”

Amelie nods her head, oblivious to the fact that Harry can’t outright see her.

His chest heaves with a staggered breath as his tires roll to the nearest parking space, the sight of her making him want to collapse. Her eyes are hooded, and her cheeks are puffy. He could only imagine how hard she’s been crying. He can imagine that she’s nearly gone unconscious, by now. “Can see you, baby. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” Amelie mutters, ending their call and turning slightly to where the slamming sound was coming from, Harry’s body coming into view as his feet pound against the pavement running towards her.

“Hey,” Harry whispers, immediately wrapping his arms around her head and pulling her into his arms, his lips touching her hair, his hands holding her tightly into him. “Are you alright?” Amelie grips onto his sweatshirt, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to only think about his breathing and his scent and his heartbeat that is beating in her hears with her head against his chest.

“Harry, we didn’t even know it was him,” Mylie rushes over, her hands tucked into her pockets, her heart breaking at the sight. Amelie always appeared so beyond the thing with Jack – not that they really knew what happened other than a messy breakup – but this put everything in an entirely new perspective. “Thought it was someone just watching us because of you two, honestly.”

Harry doesn’t want to blame Amelie’s friends. His frustration, his anger, his guilt, is begging him to blame someone other than himself. “Not your fault.” His hands gently brushing through Amelie’s curls and trying to soothe her. “Have they kicked him out?”

“Think so.”

“I’m going to go in there and talk to someone,” Harry says, his hands gently dropping from around Amelie’s torso and causing her to panic.

“Harry,” Amelie whispers dryly, barely lifting her head from his chest and squeezing his hips, “Harry, no.”

“Alright, alright,” Harry sighs, returning his hands to her hair and kissing her hairline, “you’re okay.” His cheek rests on her head, his eyes meeting the worried eyes of her friends, “Don’t worry, I’ve got her.” He kisses her hair, squeezing her shoulders and whispering, “Can I take you home? Can we go home?”

Amelie nods against his chest, grabbing his hand and interlocking her fingers with his, her body walking one step ahead to make the distance between where she once was. Harry opens the car door for her, kissing her temple and wiping the tears on her cheeks before moving back.

“Can you kiss me?”

“Course,” Harry smiles softly, disheartened by the trepidation in her voice. Her cheek turns to him, a tear wiped by her thumb as he whispers, “On your cheek?”

“Mhm.”

Harry’s heart sinks to his stomach. His lips gently touch her cheek, kissing away a tear that betrays her and falls against his mouth. He kisses her jaw, her cheek, her temple, making his way to her mouth to kiss her deeply, longingly. Her hand grabs his as he’s about to walk around and get into the car, her eyes flicking between his lips and his eyes. He kisses her, giving her reign, allowing her to mould her lips in whichever way she wants against his.

Harry has to take a breath, guilt washing over him in the worst way. He could’ve been there. He knows that she hates going out without him or Jenny. He knows that she doesn’t feel safe that way, that her anxiety is too overwhelming and makes her feel that way. Harry knows that Amelie wanted to prove that she was making progress more so to herself than anyone else, and she would have been so excited to tell him that she went to the bar all by herself and the night went great.

Until it didn’t.

“Have about twenty minutes until we get home,” Harry says, easing onto the street and beginning their journey home. “Glad you called me. Thank you for calling.”

“Had no idea what to do,” Amelie whispers dumbfounded, the alcohol still swirling in her brain. “Kept trying to press on your contact but m’hand was shaking and I couldn’t get it.”

“Hey, hey,” he soothes, kissing her knuckles and squeezing her hand, the volume on the music silent. “Everything’s alright now. I’m here. You’re safe.”

“Did I wake you?” she wonders, wet eyelashes pressed on her cheeks, her lips pursing together as the red tint of her lipstick begins to fade away. “Didn’t mean to.” Her hand reaches for the water settled in the console for her, taking a heavy sip and letting the cool liquid smooth down her throat.

Harry snorts, shaking his head and pressing a hard kiss to her hand. “Didn’t wake me, angel.”

“Oh no.”

His chuckle vibrates his chest, his heart warm as a smile tugs longingly at the corners of her lips. “Don’t think you want to know what I was doing.”

“Well, I mean, now yeah, since you’ve teased it, I want to know. Especially, since now, we’re together at a bright,” Amelie says, staring at the time on her phone and waiting a few seconds for the digits to process in her brain, “two in the morning.”

“Look, sometimes, things get a little, hard, and you have to do some things,” Harry begins, his lips curved in the cheesiest smile, a hard laugh bellowing from his chest as Amelie slips beneath the seatbelt and further into the seat, her hand covering her eyes. “You asked!”

“Oh my god.”

“Thinking of you, if that helps any.”

“No,” she says, biting her bottom lip to suppress a laugh itching at her throat, her cheeks flushed with his confession. “No, Harry, it really doesn’t.” Harry turns to stare at her, quirking his eyebrow suggestively and nodding his head. “Okay, a teensy bit.”

Harry and Amelie talk quietly about nonsense the rest of the way home, trying to distract from the sexual tension and the lingering conversation waiting to be had eventually. Her thighs were held tightly together, her hand and her phone between her legs, his hand holding hers on his thigh and away from the tent in his jeans.

Harry’s hand lingers on Amelie’s lower back as they walk inside, his hands gently holding her hips to make sure that she wouldn’t stumble going to their bedroom upstairs, her knees slightly shaky and her words drawn together as the alcohol begins to wear through her system.

Amelie’s eyes flicker to the alarm on the wall near their bedroom door. Harry nods towards the ensuite, his lips pursed together as her fingertips begin to take her clothes and toss everything into the laundry bin, taking her favourite robe from behind the door and wrapping it tightly around her torso. Harry waits for the three beeps before following her, frowning as she harshly takes a washcloth and begins rubbing at her cheek.

And Harry knows why.

“Baby,” Harry whispers, making eye contact in the mirror before setting his hands on her shoulders, gently rubbing her muscles and kissing her hair. “Gentle with yourself.”

“Can feel it on my skin,” Amelie whispers, her eyes welling with tears at the thought. “Want it to go away.”

“Can I do it? I’ll take it all off.” Harry waits for Amelie to nod, his hands holding her hips and lifting her onto the bathroom counter, her thighs spread slightly for him to stand between. “Love the way you do your makeup, you know. Always makes your eyes so bright.”

His hands gently wipe away the tears and the foundation and the running mascara, revealing her bare cheeks and supple lips and soft eyes, begging to be peppered with kisses. He kisses her cheek, his breathing choking in his throat as he waits to see how her reaction will go. Her cheek leans into his hand, her lips turning to meet his and her hands holding his shoulders, the kisses languid and sloppy and sweet.

“Come on,” Harry breathes, circling his hands around her waist and gently setting her on the ground, walking around her and turning on the water. “Know you better than anyone and the only way for you to avoid a hangover is a shower and a good night’s rest.”

Amelie wonders, hooking the robe near the shower door and stepping under the warm water, her hair wet and clinging to her skin beneath the pour. Her eyes meet his through the glass wall, her arms folding in front of her chest. “Coming in?”

“Don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Harry sighs, scratching the back of his head. He wanted nothing more than to be in the shower with her, to be touching her – even innocently – and telling her that he loves her. He wants to tell her now more than ever.

“Harry, ‘s just a shower.”

His fingers tuck between his teeth, biting at the skin nervously. He shrugs, nodding and pushing his jeans down his legs and slipping his shirt over his head. “Alright, alright.”

“Not even briefs?” she giggles, her fingertips gently massaging her shampoo into her hair, all of her movements drawn out with the lingering alcohol in her veins.

“Go on,” he laughs, stepping inside the shower, squeezing her shoulders and nudging her to turn under the water, his body slightly stepped to the side, “turn around and let me rinse out your hair. Gon’a got soap in your eyes if you keep opening them to talk to me.”

“Takin’ care ‘f me,” Amelie smirks, wrapping her arms around his torso and pulling him into her, puckering her lips and tilting her head back to inch her lips towards his.

“Always will,” Harry says assuredly, kissing the corner of her lips and gently squeezing out the water in her curls. “Could literally ask me to give you the clothes on my back and you’d have them.” His hands reach for her sponge, gently running the soap and water on the material and coasting it along her skin, kissing her neck and she leans into his touch.

Her voice is quiet, the water running over her skin as his hands gently rub into her shoulders, the muscles that tightened with the anxiety and the panic slowly loosening enough to allow her to have a night’s rest and to reconvene in the morning. His touched her hairline, allowing her to lay against his chest and have the water wash over their connected skin. “Have you seen anyone since we went on, you know.”

“On a break.”

Amelie nods, “That.”

“Haven’t seen anyone but your beautiful face every day,” Harry smiles softly, his thumb dragging along her cheek and his lips pecking her temple, his hands reaching to turn off the water and grab a towel from the rack nearest to them. “You’re it. Always.”

Amelie walks onto the rug first, holding onto Harry’s hand and wrapping the towel tightly around her torso her feet pressing into the fibres to dry and avoid slipping on the damp tile. Her hands reach for his warm sweatshirt on the counter, her hands rummaging around the drawer in their wardrobe for her favourite pair of silk shorts and pulling the material up her thighs.

Her voice is quiet as Harry gets dressed behind her, the cotton briefs clinging to his hips, his hair dried in a towel as she tucks the sweatshirt sleeves over her hands and walks to the bedframe, sorting her side of the bed and opening up the duvet for him to climb into.

“Cosy in that?” Harry asks, turning off the bathroom light and shutting the door, all of the lamps slowly beginning to turn over and the room becoming bright only by the moonlight shining through the thin curtains.

Harry’s fingers are about to shut his light when Amelie whispers, “Dumbest thing I’ve ever done was talk about that break.”

“Didn’t really give you much of a choice,” Harry sighs, turning to look at Amelie and sitting his back against the headboard.

“Have a choice, now,” she says, swinging her thigh over his waist, and straddling him, her fingertips coasting along his chest, her lips peppering kisses from his jaw to his neck.

“Hey,” he whispers, his head tilting slightly to allow her lips to make suckling marks on his neck. Harry was Amelie’s, undoubtedly and unabashedly. “Doll, we shouldn’t.”

“Baby.”

“Don’t want the first time we make love to be when you’re drunk, Ames. Don’t want you to regret that,” Harry gulps, his hands holding her thighs, gripping onto her lightly and feeling her skin under his fingertips.

“Could never regret you,” Amelie confesses, gently bringing her lips to hover over his, hot breaths panted over his mouth. “Kiss me, then. Not a fake kiss. Kiss me like you love me.” Her words are interrupted by hiccups, and Harry couldn’t find her more attractive – freshly showered, holding onto him, kissing him, wanting to profess how she feels; that’s more than he’s gotten in nearly a month. Her eyes meet his with all sincerity. “’ve been, dreamin’ about this.”

Harry’s thumb lightly pulls her bottom lip, “Have you? Missed these lips.”

Amelie kisses his fingertip, “Mhm.”

His fingers brush her hair away from her face, his hands cupping her jaw sweetly and kissing her cheek. “Are you sure?”

Her hands wrap around his wrists, having his hands firm on her face and unable to move. “Mhm.”

“Ames.” His voice is barely above a whisper, mouth inching towards her wet lips, the slight flush of pink on the flesh making his stomach flip with butterflies. His mouth is longing to be on hers.

“Je t’aime,” Amelie says, a smile tugging at her lips as Harry’s eyes move away from her lips and meet her stare, surprise and love overwhelming his emotions and features, “and I want you to kiss me.”

“Je t’aime,” Harry grins, brushing his nose against hers and lightly pressing a kiss to her lips. “Could listen to you say that for the rest of m’life.”

“And you will.”

Harry’s lips crash onto Amelie’s, their mouths messily colliding, their rhythm slowly building from sloppy to sweet, perfect alignment and steady intake of breaths as their tongue taste the lingering mint and tequila that is between their lips. Harry moans into her mouth, soaking in the way her fingers slowly inch into his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck, his hands holding her thighs and her back, their arms tightly around each other, barely giving space for their lungs to intake any oxygen.

Amelie’s kiss is begging for something more, desperate for Harry to take away whatever is lingering in her brain. Maybe it’s the anxiety. Maybe it’s the underlying doubt that they won’t work out a second time around. Maybe it’s the memory of someone else’s lips on her skin that she never wants to feel again. Harry answers it all with his lips on hers, kissing her cheeks and her mouth and her jaw and her cupid’s bow, leaving a bright red mark on the cut of her jaw below her ear and whispering his love for her.

Harry’s kiss is longing, aching for more of Amelie. His hair longed to be tugged by her, his neck marked by her teeth, his skin scratched by her nails, his sensed overwhelmed by her scent. He wanted all of her immersed in him, to be in her skin and knowing her. He wanted to erase the memories of anyone that’s ever hurt that, that’s ever made her feel like she deserves less than every star in the sky. His lips are slightly harder against hers when a tear slips down her cheek, needing her to feel his love deeper than the surface.

Her hand trails down his chest, lingering over where their thighs meet. “Have to give you a cut on tequila, Amelie Fay,” Harry chuckles dryly, gently moving her hand and bringing her fingers back to his hair. “Can’t resist you when you come home when you’re like this.”

“That’s what I love,” Amelie smiles, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. Her lips touch right below his ear, gently marking his skin.

“Fuck,” Harry breathes, gently sliding further into the duvet and bringing the covers over Amelie’s back, tucking their bodies together and his hands settling over the curves of her bum and trailing up her spine.

“Knowing that you have that control shows that you really love me,” she whispers against his skin, gently kissing over his jawline and making her way to the corner of his lips. “That’s good, you know, because, I love you.”

His eyes well with tears. Harry needed Amelie to say that more than he thought. “I love you. God, I love you. Don’t leave me, ever again,” he croaks, his fingers tangling in her hair and gently coaxing her to meet his glossy stare. “Need you, angel.”

“Need you,” Amelie murmurs, her thumbs gently wiping the tears from beneath his eyes. Her heart is thumping so loudly in her chest that it can be heard in her eardrums, a bass drum kicking a new beat. All that she wants is to have Harry’s lips on hers. “I love you. Je t’aime.”

“I love you. I’ll love you to the ends of the Earth. Do you hear me?” Harry breathes, his lips realigning with hers and making a home on the mouth that knows his so perfectly.

Her voice is hushed against his lips, barely breaking apart their kiss and the moonlight fanning over their bodies in the middle of the mattress. His hands are planted on her hips, firm and steady. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never, Ames. I never will.”

Harry can only pray that Amelie will feel the same in the morning.

~

“Oh mon Dieu. Oh mon Dieu. Oh mon Dieu.”

Harry could hear the panic in her voice. He’s only heard the stress and anxiety in her voice like this a few times, namely when they’re arguing, and there is a twisting in his stomach that is telling him that whatever is going to happen isn’t going to be good. He stirs, slowly prying his eyes open and blinking to focus his vision, the clock on his phone reading 06:28.

They’ve only been asleep for four hours, and Harry knows that Amelie’s had a nightmare that she didn’t wake up from.

Amelie’s hands were covering her face, her hair slightly matted from sweat and his fingers and the way he was tangled in her hair as they kissed. And the way the whole scene is panning out, it’s as if there is no recollection of the night before, her hands running over her body, ensuring that there are clothes covering her skin and the stickiness is only from the closeness of their bodies throughout the night. Amelie reaches to take Harry’s hand away from her hips, her knees pulling to her chest and her fingertips pushing against her temples.

And the panic attack is in action, full force, without a sign of hesitation or hindrance. Harry can see it happening.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” Amelie mumbles under her breath, her heart pounding so hard against her chest that she swears Harry could hear it from beside her. “Harry, I need you to let go of me.”

“’ey,” Harry murmurs, the rasp in his voice coating every word with exhaustion, “tell me why you’re panicking. Can tell me, I’m right here. ‘s only a nightmare, you’re safe.”

“I, I.” Like that, every word in Amelie’s vocabulary is beginning to disappear. All she can see is the balcony and the promise of fresh air and the slight possibility of her heart to quit beating against her ribs in a way that would make it implode and rupture. “Let go, please.”

Harry immediately loosens his grip. He can see her making a mental path to the balcony and his heart falls to the pit of his stomach. He reaches for a pair sweatpants that are strewn on the chair near the vanity, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and yanking them onto his hips. “Jus’ le’ me turn the alarm off. One minute.” Harry walks to the bedroom door, clicking the buttons to turn the alarm to the setting that wouldn’t blare a horn when she opens the door. “Doll.”

Harry’s eyes follow Amelie as she rushes outside, satin shorts on her hips, her knuckles turning white as she holds onto the railing for dear life, as if moving would make the entire world turn upside down and she would be the first to fall. On the corner of the horizon, the sunrise is beginning to show promise of the new day, the dew clinging to her skin and slight breeze of the morning chill hitting her cheeks. Her thighs are covered in goosebumps, but there is nothing she can feel besides the heat of her blood pressure in her cheeks. He rubs his eyes, trying to gather all of his words and thoughts and wake himself enough to at least know why she’s panicking.

“Oh mon Dieu, je t'ai appelé. Je n'aurais pas dû appeler,” she murmurs, her words slurring together in a string of sound. “Qu'est-ce que je fais, bordel?” Heaving breaths, her chest is tight, the overwhelming weight on her lungs suffocating her.

Oh my god, I called you. I shouldn’t have called. What the fuck am I doing?

Harry takes a second to try and grasp what she’s saying. He can’t comprehend what she’s saying that quickly and that jumbled. “Say it again. Slower, please.”

“This is,” she says quietly, pausing to think but every word and thought is scrambled and making her head hurt. “Can’t breathe.”

“Ames,” Harry says calmly, taking a breath and standing beside her against the railing. He is well aware that she doesn’t like to be touched during a panic attack, that’ll it’ll cause her to hide away and never speak, but she has to see him, “slow down. Talk to me. Called me at the bar, last night, remember? Came home with you. Only us, here.”

“Can see everything,” Amelie whimpers, her fingertips curling around her hair, her nails scratching her scalp, her eyes squeezing shut. “Had a nightmare and it wasn’t you touching me. Can’t make it stop.” Harry’s eyes are fixated on her, his body seeming too close even though he is far away. “Don’t want to see it, again.” Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, and Harry is sure that she’ll pass out at any moment if she doesn’t take a breath. He sighs as she turns away, laying her palms flat against the bench that decorated the space beneath the lingering window – the bench that she chose nearly a week after she moved in.

“Know that, baby,” Harry breathes, leaning his back against the balcony and watching her every movement, careful to not overwhelm or scare her. His voice is soft and soothing, all of his words chosen very carefully and particularly. “Want to take it all away from you.”

“But you can’t, Harry,” Amelie says desperately, taking a seat on the bench, her fingertips digging into her knees, her eyes set on the flowers beneath the balcony and in the garden. All of her hope is drained from her voice. “He’s never going to go away.”

“Amelie, that’s not true. Don’t start thinking backwards, now.”

“Do you think I did something to want to be this way? Is that why you said the things you did? Do you think that?” Her voice cracks between sobs, her chest shaking beneath the tears and the unsteady breathing. Her eyes can barely open with how heavy the tears are. “Harry, I don’t know why I’m like this. This wasn’t my choice.”

“Mon ange, écoutez-moi,” Harry whispers, his stomach twisted into knots and a sob lodged in his throat. He should’ve never said the things he did. Never. “Know that this wasn’t your fault, none of it. Have nothing to say for m’self other than ‘m a proper arsehole.” He takes a step forward, their feet barely touching. “Have had a lot of time for reflection and learning over the last month, you know. Understand a lot more, now. Don’t have to forgive me, but I am sorry, Amelie. I’m so sorry.”

Her fingernails scratch at her bare skin, leaving crescent marks in her flesh. “Jack told me I was going to be alone. He told me and I didn’t believe him,” Amelie sniffles, her teeth biting at her bottom lip and tearing at the skin. Her tongue swipes over the flesh, taking the blood that trickles from the cut. “You’re going to hate me like everyone else. You are. Only a matter of time.”

“You think that I’m going hate you,” he sighs, taking a seat from the corner of the balcony and bringing it towards the bench, his knees knocking with hers and his fingers set on his thighs, nervous to take her hands. “You think that I could hate the love of my life.” Harry’s eyes meet Amelie’s when she lifts her head – he knew that would bring her attention to him. His heart falls into his stomach, taking in the tears staining her cheeks and the bright red circling her eyes. “I’ll never hate you.”

“Can’t believe you,” she mumbles, taking the sleeve of her sweatshirt and wiping her skin roughly, scratching at her cheeks and heaving a staggered breath into the fabric. “Anxiety, it ruins everything. Depression, it ruins everything. Me, I ruin everything.”

“No, you don’t ruin everything.”

“Our holiday was ruined by me.”

Harry’s lungs collapse in his chest. “Our holiday was not ruined by your anxiety. Us staying inside an extra day or two and leaving two days early didn’t affect our holiday in the slightest.” His hands hesitantly reach for hers, his throat swallowing a cry when her hands retract further into her sleeves. “Could have gone home the very next day with you and it wouldn’t have mattered to me.”

Having a spiral on holiday effectively ruins it, Harry.

“Can you listen to me fo’ a second? One minute, that’s all.” Amelie nods silently. “Haven’t felt this much guilt in a long time, and I am sorry. There were so many opportunities to make the conversations and the behaviours that were triggering to you stop, and I didn’t take them. Overstepped a boundary that you had and that was wrong.” Harry’s thumbs gently wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Had every sign that you needed me, that you were having anxiety, that your depression was there, and I did nothing. That’s all my fault. Not yours. Have every right to be mad at me, to not forgive me.” His heart squeezes so tight in his chest at the thought of her never forgiving him that he thinks he might break into sobs. “Don’t have to forgive me, that’s okay. Need you to know that I know what I did, I’m sorry, and I’ll never do it, again.”

I forgive you. I forgive you and I love you. That’s what Amelie wants to say. “Je n'aurais pas dû te laisser tomber amoureux de moi. I’m sorry I don’t communicate, and I tend to react on my emotions. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you. Je suis désolé de ne pas suffire. Tu mérites mieux.”

“Don’t say that, Ames,” Harry whispers, aggressively wiping away the tears that fall down his cheeks and itch his skin. “Couldn’t have stopped me from falling in love with you if you tried and you are more than enough to me. All I want is you, you and me. Don’t you dare say that.” His eyes are welling over with tears, desperately wishing that they could go back to last night, where they were smiling and kissing and promising to be together, that they love each other and always will.

“Harry, you’re going to fall out of love with me. One day you’re not going to want me,” Amelie says, her jaw clenched as she wipes her eyes and stands on her feet, avoiding Harry’s reach for her hand and stepping towards the balcony railing, her eyes meeting the bare colours of the flowers in the garden.

“That’s not true, angel. I swear on my life. I swear to God. I love you,” Harry cries, pushing his body from the chair and sliding it away, disheartened by the way her shoulders tense at the words and her jaw tenses. “I love you.”

And despite the way Amelie refuses to turn around and utter the three words that Harry so desperately wants to hear, Harry knows that Amelie loves him, that she’s in love with him. He has to believe that, otherwise, all of his defences and will to let the words her anxiety is spewing from her lips pass without regard will disappear and he will break. But she needs him, right now, and he refuses to abandon her. Harry refuses to let Amelie slip through his fingers, again.

“But our hatred is almost indistinguishable from our–”

Harry knows that Amelie’s anxiety can make her second guess everything, to make her overthink and believe in the falsities that have been told to her time and time again. Her thoughts make a façade making her believe that she is undeserving of the love in her life, and all the kindness that encompasses her. Her heart wrenches and twists and squeezes against her ribs, hiding away from saying the three words that she desperately wanted to, making an exterior that would guard anyone against ever touching her soul and her emotions and love, that would protect her in the least convincing way. All that Amelie’s gone through to be where she is, to make the art she creates, to love the way she loves, to treat others way she does, is played into the thoughts that make her question all of behaviours and reactions and relationships.

Anxiety makes her mistake the love in her life with hate for herself, and Harry refuses to let that happen again.

“Finish the quote, baby,” Harry says, standing behind Amelie and sucking in a deep breath. “But our hatred is almost indistinguishable from our–”

“From our love,” Amelie whispers, releasing her grasp on the railing and taking a step backwards, returning to her seat on the bench. Her head is pounding and there is a heat creeping onto her cheeks, her blood pressure raising under the sporadic breaths leaving her chest.

“Tell me you love me, angel. Need you to tell me that you love me, baby. You have to remember that feeling,” Harry says slightly louder, slightly more abrasive, taking another step away from her to allow her to move without touching him, “and unless you say that you don’t love me, you’re not moving, you’re not leaving me.”

“Don’t shout at me.” Harry wasn’t shouting. Not yet, at least. He can feel himself getting ready to yell, though. He is ready to yell at the thoughts in Amelie’s brain that make her second guess everything she does, that make her feel like she’s not worthy to be loved by him, that make her feel like she isn’t enough.

“Fine,” Harry’s voice is bitter as he resumes sitting in the chair set in the middle of the balcony, his arms folded in front of his chest. “That’s fine.” He stares at her blankly, his emotions unable to be portrayed on his face. “Guess we’ll stay here all fucking day.”

This is where it ends, her anxiety says. This is where he falls out of love with you. This is where he kicks you out onto the streets and makes you go to your parents’ house, where you have to move out in a week and find a place to live and somehow pretend that you aren’t in love with him and have to settle for someone and marry them just because they like you enough. This is why you ended up with Jack. This is why bad things happen. This is why. This is.

“Um,” Amelie chokes out, tears beginning run along her cheeks, her skin burning with the heat of her blood pressure, “you know, I can go. I’ll leave. I’m sorry. I should go. I’m so fucking sorry. I ruin everything. I didn’t mean to do this. I don’t want you to hate me. I’m sorry.” Her head is pounding so deeply in her temples that she has to squeeze her eyes shut, the tears falling onto her bare thighs, and she swears that if she makes one sudden movement, her mind will go unconscious.

Harry leans forward in the chair, sliding slightly forwards and leaning over his knees, their legs barely touching. “Did I not just tell you that you’re not leaving until you say you don’t love me.” He heaves a sigh, standing on his feet and walking to the railing, defeat etched into his features and sadness echoed in his words. “Tú devez arrêter de faire cela. Tú dois arrêter de me faire ça. ’m begging you to stop running away. You’re saying all of these things and insisting that you have to leave. Arrête de parler de partir et parle moi!” Harry shouts, slamming his hand into the metal bannister, his knuckles white as he clutches onto the rail, his body turned away from hers as she clings to the edge of the bench overlooking the garden, every muscle in her body frozen and unable to move. “Arrête de nous faire ça et dis moi ce qui ne va pas.”

You have to stop doing this. You have to stop doing this to me. Quit talking about leaving and talk to me! Stop doing this to us and tell me what’s wrong.

Say something, her brain screams. Say something before he hates you.

And quiet washes over them.

Harry swallows a sob, turning around and walking to Amelie, his feet carrying him over to the bench, his body uncomfortably kneeling against the concrete, his hands holding her thighs, making her feel his touch, making her know that he is there. “Je sais que tu m'aimes.”

Amelie’s eyes barely meet his, tears streaming and the light eyes that Harry knows are washed out, blurred, dim. Her hands shake against his, her chest rising and falling much too rapidly. All of this, every tear and shaky breath and unsteady hand is a make of anxiety and a nightmare and a toxic relationship. Harry wants to take it all away.

That’s the thing that Harry doesn’t understand. All of Amelie’s boundaries have disappeared with him. All of the guards to protect her heart and her brain and her soul. All of the measures to ensure that she never fell in love, that she never gave herself the opportunity to broken.

Harry has made all of that disappear, and that is what is so terrifying.

He has made her fall so in love that she would impulsively make any decision to see him, to touch him, to kiss him, to be with him because he said the three words that she needs to hear. He makes her feel so sure of herself, that she doesn’t think twice about it. He makes her feel like she is everything and anything, that she can do everything and anything.

That is the scariest thing; there is someone that makes you feel so loved, that you feel like you can do anything. Love is that powerful.

“Tú ne savez pas que,” Amelie whispers, desperately trying to break the intensity that is building between them. Telling Harry that she’s in love with him would prove her point, that the love that they have has broken every boundary she has ever set for herself, that she has ever set to protect herself. “Je vais tout foutre en l'air. Je vais te faire me détester.”

“Listen to me, baby, please,” Harry pleads, grabbing her hands and interlocking her fingers with his, squeezing and kissing her skin. “There’s nothing you could do to mess with you and me, that could fuck us over. Could never hate you, Amelie, ever. Have to believe me on that.”

One day you’re going to hate me. One day it’s going to happen. I am so afraid of that day. I don’t want you to hate me.

“Regarde-moi dans les yeux et dis-moi que tu ne m'aimes pas,” Harry retorts, secure in his judgement and every word that is rolling of his lips.

Look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t love me.

Harry is angry with Amelie – angry that the anxiety is winning and that all those thoughts are going to change the way she sees herself, the way she sees him, the way she sees their relationship. Harry is angry with himself – angry that he hasn’t done enough to make sure that all those thoughts are gone, that they are deep enough in her worries that they’re never a second glance, that they’ve almost disappeared from the atmosphere. Harry is just fucking angry. “Have to say that, because that’s the only thing that could ever screw this up, fuck this up. That’s the only thing that could ever make me hate you.”

“Can’t do that,” Amelie mutters, sucking in a heavy breath and willing her eyes to meet his. Harry’s features portray his exhaustion, now, and her heart aches knowing that she’s caused this. She loves him. Amelie never wants him to feel this way. Harry moves only slightly, his arms gently coaxing around her waist and slowly encouraging her to stand. He wraps his arms around her, only tight enough to ensure that her knees wouldn’t give out, his face leaning away to stare at her. He can feel the sobs being held in her chest, the tightness in her breath, the shakiness as she clutches onto his back. “You know I can’t say that.”

“Pour une fois, s'il te plaît, arrête de te battre contre mon amour pour toi.”

For once, please, stop fighting against my love for you.

Harry’s voice is barely above a whisper compared to her rasped tone, thick with tears and regret and anxiety. “’s not that simple, Harry.” Harry releases her when she takes hold on the railing, his hands holding the metal beside her body, uneasy with how shaky she is against and frightened that she might fall. “Don’t deserve for you to love me, like this.”

“Tell me why. Tell me why you aren’t allowed to be in love. Tell me why I can’t love you.”

“Can’t,” Amelie murmurs, sucking in a heavy breath and turning around, tucking her arms in front of her chest and facing Harry, his eyes meeting hers and his arms tightening closer by her sides, holding her between him and the metal railing. “Can’t have a love like this.”

Harry is frustrated, his breathing heavy, his body adjusting the weight in his legs and making his eyes meet level with hers. “’m asking, no, begging, you, do not shut me out. One of your rules is to never leave someone that needs you. Guess what? I need you. Anxiety makes you think that no one needs you. Depression makes you think that no one needs you. I need you, Amelie. I fucking need you.”

“Harry.”

His cheeks stained with tears, his eyes glossed over and etched with pain. “Have all of me with you, and you promised that you wouldn’t leave me, that you need me.” Harry is desperate for Amelie, now. “On that day you scared me nearly to death because you wouldn’t answer m’calls or m’texts, remember, you told me you would never leave me. On the phone last night, when you were plastered and petrified to come home, our home, alone, you said you needed me. On our bed, last night, when we were kissing and touching, when you were clinging to me and squeezed me and kissed me, you said you always wanted us together. Can’t have you say goodbye to me this way, not when you promised.” Harry’s eyes are etched with pain and fear. He is afraid of what she is going to tell him, more so, what her anxiety is telling her to say. “Tell me this isn’t goodbye, fo’ fuck’s sake. I’m begging you, now, Ames.”

“This isn’t goodbye. This isn’t it. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Amelie says quietly, her heart breaking watching the emotions move through his body. “I need you; I do. I need you, Harry. I’m not fighting you anymore. I’m sorry. I’m scared, I’m really scared. I’m sorry. Je t’aime. I’m sorry for everything. Je t’aime.”

Harry wraps his arms around her waist, his face tucked into her neck, tears wetting her skin, his hands squeezing her hips, gripping her sweatshirt in his fists. His grip is telling her that he’s there, telling him that she’s there. “Don’t fucking scare me like that ever again. Makin’ me think you can’t love me anymore.”

“Okay,” Amelie agrees quietly, untangling her arms from her chest, circling around his shoulders, her fingertips finding the baby curls at his neck, her face falling to his neck and her lips breathing out a sob. “’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Don’t,” Harry says flatly, his hands squeezing her torso, her chest tucked tightly against his, physically melting into his touch.

“Harry, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she cries, shaking her head against him, holding him tighter. “’m sorry.” Harry waits to say anything, knowing that she isn’t quite finished. “Gotta get better. Give me time.”

“J'attendrai avec tu,” he whispers, gently ghosting his fingers along her skin, reaching to take her cheeks in his hands and slowly bringing her to face him. “I love you. You’re not doing this alone.”

I’ll wait with you.

Harry takes a breath, gathering his emotions and steadying his breathing, his thumbs tracing over her cheekbones and drying the stray tears that stained her skin. “Je suis désolé, je n'ai pas pu le voir. Couldn’t see that things were getting bad.” His chest is so tight, his lungs could implode. He could apologise. He could make things right. He could fix this. “Wasn’t there for you like I should have been. I’m sorry. Going to be different, now, I promise.”

I’m sorry I couldn’t see it.

“Je ne voulais pas être un fardeau, that’s why I didn’t tell you,” she mutters, gently kissing his palm, her eyes glossy as she stares at him. “Going to talk to you from now on, I promise.”

I didn’t want to be a burden.

“’ey, you are never a burden,” Harry assures her, his lips touching her forehead, her nose, her chin comfortingly. “Could do nothing to make me not love you or be in love with you. Quite literally, you are everything to me.” All of Harry’s love pours through his words. “Only thing I need in this fucking life is you. Only you.”

“I,” Amelie breathes, squeezing her eyes and blinking away her tears, having a moment to gather her courage, the three words she has to say stuck in her throat. “I love you.”

Harry chastely touches his lips to hers, his heart breaking as he feels the tears stain his cheeks. He savours in the way she tastes, the way she kisses him with so much passion he knows her heart is his without having to say a word. His thumbs brush her cheeks, his lips repeatedly kissing hers for comfort, for love, for reassurance.

Harry doesn’t know what’s going to happen when his mouth leaves hers. He doesn’t know what she’s going to say and how she’s going to react. He doesn’t know anything other than his love for her, and the love that she has for him.

Harry remembers the quote that Amelie marked from their favourite novel, the one that reminded her of him, the reminded her of how she felt about loving him. All of it, every ounce of love that he has for her, all of the thoughts and dreams and feelings for her, everything makes sense.

They were meant to love each other.

Kissing her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, Harry lets his lips linger on her hairline, his arms around her shoulders, bringing her into his chest and holding her tightly. Her hands are squeezing his torso, her face tucked into his neck and sucking in deep breaths, steadying her shaking and trying to process all the thoughts in her head.

“Can feel you thinking,” Harry whispers, his mouth on her hair, his eyes taking in the way the sun is beginning to rise over the mountains far off in the distance and the birds are beginning to sing their morning song.

“Thinking about Finch and Violet, and the Jovian-Plutonian Effect and the Moon,” Amelie tells, her fingertips drawing on his skin and her lips parting with the heavy breaths reaching her lungs. Her cheeks are starting to feel cooler, her blood pressure slowly lessening and her head beginning to feel less achy. “Think we were made to love each other, somehow. Don’t know how that happened, but I’d like to think we were.”

Harry grins, his arms loosening around her shoulders and his hands cupping her cheeks, his mouth tilting into a kiss and soaking in the way her lips so perfectly mould to his. “I love you. I love you so fucking much.” His words are rushed over, needing to have her kiss, the sensation intoxicating and enticing. All that Harry wants is to share his love with her so intimately. “Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime,” Amelie breathes, squeezing his hips and gently sponging kisses along his jaw, making a light path to his ear. “Fais-moi l'amour.”

His head tilts to meet her lips, his hands gently coasting along her figure and wrapping under her thighs, encouraging her to settle on his hips, her legs tightly circled around his waist and her arms squeezing his shoulders, the balcony door quietly shutting as they messily walk towards the bed, as their breathing hitched together as their mouths entangle in longing and loving kisses. His heart is thumping against his ribs, nearly extending through his lungs and radiating through his fingertips. Her skin is glowing beneath the rising sun, his fingertips trailing over her cheeks and tucking beneath the hem of her sweatshirt, pulling the material over her head and tossing it onto the ground. Her fingers shove the waistband of his sweats down his legs, their movements wanting and hurried.

“Missed this,” Harry breathes, light kisses feathering across her chest, suckling over the moon tattooed on her sternum, his hands dragging her silk shorts down her legs and laying a kiss on her calves as he slinks over her naked body. “Missed you.”

“Missed you,” Amelie whimpers, a moan echoing around their bedroom as Harry’s fingertips gently taste her arousal, his thumb rubbing circles over the bundle of nerves between her spread thighs, her fingers wrapped in his hair as their kiss becomes more passionate and heavy with the wetness on their skin. “Entrez en moi.”

Harry nearly groans at the thought, “Might not take me that long since all ‘ve been using only m’hand for nearly a month.” His weight is supported on his forearms, his hand tugging at his cock, heavy in his hands, his thumb dragging her arousal over his throbbing tip and teasing her heat. “God, ‘ve missed being this close to you. J'ai manqué de faire l'amour avec toi.”

Harry and Amelie gasp in unison as his cock gently eases into her core, her warmth swallowing him, her velvet walls taking all of him inch by inch, her thighs around his waist and her muscles soft under his touch. His hips are flush against her pelvis, thrusting and grinding into her, his thumb drawing patterns on her nerves as her fingernails scratch at his back, dragging along his spine and breathing as his cock reaches her hilt, sponging against the sweetest spot inside of her. “Harry.”

“Love you,” Harry moans, his lips suckling on her throat and marking her skin with a bright magenta bruise. His pelvis grinds with the arch of her hips, her heels digging into his bum and bringing his cock as intimately inside her warmth as physically possible. Her arousal sounds around the bedroom as he thrusts into her, the wetness on their thighs and their sheets and their moans encouraging the sweet love. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you,” Amelie whispers, a tear falling down her cheek with the pleasure and the orgasm growing so deliciously in her stomach, squeezing his cock tightly inside and feeling as though the emotions and the love and pleasure is bringing her face to face with heaven. Harry was heaven. “Want you always.”

“Have me,” Harry grunts, his thumb pressing to her bundle of nerves and groaning into her neck as her orgasm spills around him, milking his orgasm inside her warmth and squeezing him deeper, her thighs shaking around his hips. His mouth presses kisses into her cheeks as their orgasms wash over their bodies, her glossy eyes meeting his as he whispers, “you fucking have me.”

~

All of Harry’s thoughts are jumbled and in disarray as the café comes into view. Amelie’s mural is painted on the concrete wall opposite of where his car is parked, and his forehead rests against the steering wheel for a moment, trying to centre his thoughts and not make any unreasonable decisions. He isn’t quite sure what made him turn down the wrong street and go in the opposite direction of the café that he and his girlfriend – that feels so good to think and say – get their coffee and breakfast from.

Maybe it’s the anger. Maybe it’s the hurt for Amelie.

Harry was lying beside Amelie in their bed, brushing his fingers through her curls, his lips touching her hairline as she sleeps soundly in his warmth. His skin was sticky, sweat covering his forehead and his hair slightly damp, his chest slowly rising and falling with his breathing. He finally was where he wanted to be, with his favourite person, speckled purple bruises appearing across her skin. He was taking in the sight, the way her skin shone brightly under the sun and the quiet hum of her breathing was making his heart beat faster.

And then before Harry could fully process what he was thinking, anger was the only emotion speaking to him, overwhelming his thoughts, thinking about the beautiful woman tucked in his arms. He kissed her forehead, tucked the comforter tighter around her naked body, his fingers tightened the string of the loose-fitting shorts around his waist and shoved his feet into the trainers near their bedroom door, walking quietly out of their house. Harry didn’t want to worry Amelie. He wasn’t going to do anything stupid.

Until Harry was doing something stupid.

“Harry! How are you, mate? Saw Amelie the other day,” Jack smiles devilishly, and Harry’s fists clench together. Amelie described that smile, the one that is a stroke of mischievous and malicious, and Harry could see why his features would make her nervous on sight. “Lookin’ better than ever, isn’t she?”

“You and I need to talk outside,” Harry says through gritted teeth, his keys tucked in his back pocket, his wallet and phone abandoned in his car. “Now.”

“Don’t think we do, Harry.”

“Jack, I swear to God,” Harry grunts, rolling his eyes and folding his arms in front of his chest. He’s taller than Jack, a bit more built muscularly, but there is a tone behind every word that comes out of his mouth that is threatening.

“Be right back,” Jack mentions, two or three younger workers staring awkwardly and shockingly at the interaction happening. Harry walks outside first, barely holding the door for Jack to follow suit.

Harry walks around to the mural, standing a few feet away from Jack and creating their distance. Jack takes one wrong move and Harry is ready to knock him straight in the jaw and never look back. One for Amelie. One for Harry. “Alright,” Harry spits, pursing his lips together as his jaw tightens, the intensity lingering in the foggy January air swelling over. “Firstly, I’m not your mate, I will never be your mate. Secondly, how the fuck did you know Amelie would be at that bar, last night? Do you fucking follow her or summat?” Jack opens his mouth with a smirk, Harry’s hand immediately waving his answer off. “Don’t fucking answer that.”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Jack shrugs, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it, moving to stand against the mural and setting the nicotine between his teeth. “That was just a coincidence. Good coincidence for me, but a coincidence nonetheless.”

“Wipe that fucking smirk off your face,” Harry growls, his bottom lip pinched painfully between his fingertips, his eyes a deep shade of green that would be unrecognisable to anyone that stared at him. “I swear to God, Jack, if you ever say anything to Amelie, again, if you go to see her, if you blink towards her, if you even breathe near her, I will not hesitate to break your fuckin’ jaw.”

Jack chuckles, flicking the ash and taking a drag, blowing the smoke directly outside of Harry’s vision. “Do you ever stop to ask yourself why she always comes here? Out of all the bakeries and cafés and coffee shops, Amelie keeps coming back here. Why is that?”

“Hasn’t come here in six months,” Harry retorts, laughing at his insinuation. Amelie’s gone to The Beachwood nearly every day since they moved in together in August. His mind is well aware that his words are meant to get a rise, and it’s scary how much it’s working on Harry’s temper. “Don’t feel fucking flattered. She liked the coffee and your mother, you fuckin’ prick.”

“Did you ever think it could be because Amy misses me?” Jack teases, pursing his lips and shrugging his shoulders, the cigarette burning with a sizzle under his fingertips. “Maybe, I treated her better.”

Harry is seething, his cheeks puffed out with panted breaths and tears pricking his eyes with how angry he is. “Don’t fucking call her that. After all you did to her,” Harry scoffs, shaking his head and twisting his heel in the pavement. “Left me, her boyfriend, to be the one to change everything. You’ve got to be fucking joking.”

“Could think of a few things we did together.”

“Jack, you’re fuckin’ treading on the thinnest ice.” Harry walks closer to Jack, laughing as the cigarette falls to the ground and smashes under his trainer, their chests barely missing each other, his breathing erratic as the anger builds inside of him. His fists are clenched, and his knuckles are white, and there is sudden gratitude for putting all his rings on his hand before leaving their house. Harry wanted it to hurt if anything were to happen. “One more thing is said, and it’s a promise that you’re done.”

“Harry, tell me, do you think it’s because I gave it to Amy better than you?” Jack taunts, his arms crossed in front of his chest as Harry’s fist begin to slink further up his body. His words make Harry want to vomit. “Bet Amelie thinks of me.”

And everything goes into darkness.

Harry swings, punching him swiftly in the jaw and the nose, shaking out his knuckles, his rings twisted on his fingers, the taunting boy planted on the tarmac, his back pressed against the mural on the wall as his mother comes barrelling outside. Jack struggles to stand, his nose bleeding heavily and an imprint of Harry’s rose ring on his cheek.

“Harry,” his mother gasps, her eyes wide and her hand covering her mouth at the sight of her son stumbling to stand on his feet, “what’s happened? I don’t like the look of this.”

Harry doesn’t know when he began crying, but there are tears on his cheeks and his breathing is erratic and there is a heaviness in his chest that could only be relieved by the girl sleeping beneath their duvet. His throat gulps a cry as he gathers his voice, the dark smile on Jack’s lips making his anger worsen. “Tell her what you did to Amelie. God knows you’ll live your life pretending it never happened, but you hurt her.” His voice is barely above a shout, the humming traffic and busy streets barely drawing attention to the two men fighting behind a café and an older woman trying to understand the reason. Harry refused to tell what happened – that wasn’t his story to tell – but he would make sure that someone told the truth. “Fuckin’ broke her down to bits.” Harry’s cheeks stained with tears, thinking about how broken his girlfriend was telling him what happened for the very first time. He’ll never erase the images of her face and the fear in her eyes when she told him what happened. “Amelie made me promise that I’d never tell anyone, but you should know that he did unspeakable things. He isn’t allowed near her, ever again.”

Harry looks at Sarah with a despaired expression on his features, a worried line written in his forehead, his lips pulled into a tight line and a nod acknowledging the end of their conversation. Her eyes travel between the two boys, fighting over malicious behaviours and abuse. “What have you done, Jack?” Her heart aches for the boy staring at her son, hatred in his eyes and a tear falling down his cheek.

Harry stalks away before their conversation can meet his ears, his fist clenching and unclenching to bring the feeling back. He angrily climbs into his car, locking the doors and taking in the sight in the mirror. His hair is falling out of the knot on his head, his knuckles red and bruised and bleeding, his rings scratching at the cuts made there.

Go home. Go home to your girl. Go home and love her.

Harry reaches for his phone, eyeing the five missed calls on his screen. His fingertip goes to click on Amelie’s contact, another call breaking through. He answers, bringing his phone to his ear as the engine in his car turns over and his head lays back against the headrest, his mind fully blank and his eyes seeing flashing colours.

“Harry,” Amelie sighs, “baby, I know where you are. Come home to me.”

Harry is sure that she’s only woken up a few minutes ago, the slight distance and rasp in her tone telling him so. “He deserved to have someone smack his face in,” Harry grits, hissing at the feeling of his thumb rubbing over his cut knuckle. “Fucking cunt.”

“Did you do something?”

“Yeah.” Harry can hear Amelie sigh disappointingly through the speaker. “Don’t know what he was saying to me, though, Ames. He deserved it.”

“You’re right,” Amelie agrees, breathing into the speaker and pausing to collect her thoughts, “and he does deserve that. But I’m here and I don’t want you getting hurt or in trouble.” Her silence is deafening to Harry. “Come home.”

“Don’t even know how I got here,” Harry breathes, looking at the café and the way the street is suddenly silent. “Honestly, I going to get us breakfast, and I looked up.”

“It’s okay,” Amelie breathes, her tone softening with her words, sensing the anxiety that is overwhelming Harry and trying to calm him. “You’re okay.”

Harry settles into his seat, shifting the gear and beginning to drive, his hand wiping away a tear and trying to gain composure of his emotions. “Coming home, now.”

“Good.”

Harry is seemingly mindless the entirety of the twenty-minute drive. All of his movements are done without intention, the directions and the attention and the calculated motions all felt without emotion and thought in his brain. His heart is heavy, aware that his actions might have caused harm to the only person that he cares about. He should’ve thought his actions through. He should’ve been more aware. Harry was just angry.

Going over all of the apologies in his head as he walks inside, Harry chokes out a breath as Amelie wraps her arms around his shoulders, bringing her into his chest and holding him tightly, his hand barely able to reach and shut the door behind them as he melts into her embrace. “Hey, baby.” His lips touch her neck as she hugs him tighter. “God, it feels good to have you in m’arms, again.”

“I love you,” Amelie says, gently coaxing Harry’s face out of her neck.

“Feels better to hear you say that,” Harry sighs, kissing her sweetly and squeezing his arms tighter around her waist. “I love you more.”

“Come on,” she smiles, kissing his cheek and interlocking their fingers, squeezing his hand, her eyes trying to avoid the cuts and scrapes covering his knuckles. “I’ll make you a coffee.”

“Are you sure? That’s a lot to handle in the kitchen,” he teases, tossing his phone and wallet and keys onto the side table and following her into the kitchen, his heart swelling as he takes in her minimal appearance – the vintage shirt that she wore on their first date and a simple pair of cotton panties on her hips – and the comfortability that she has with him. That’s all Harry wants.

“Considering I’m making lunch, right now, I don’t think it’s all too much to handle,” Amelie giggles, wiggling her eyebrows and rolling her eyes as Harry tucks his arm around her waist, clinging to her as she pours him a mug and walks towards the toasty press that his mother bought for the holidays.

“Lunch, hm? How fancy of you,” Harry hums, releasing her and moving to sit on the freshly painted stool near the island, amused at the way there was always a sense of fear whenever Amelie was in the kitchen.

Amelie turns over her shoulder with a pointed stare, her eyes squinting at Harry as his lips tug into a smirk and hide a laugh. “Don’t just stand there if you know I’m going to ruin it.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, love.” Harry sets the mug on the counter and uses the tongs to pull the toasty out of the press. “How do you burn everything?”

“Good question,” she says, sipping quietly from her straw and staring at her boyfriend as he walks around her to clean the mess she’s made of their lunch. “Have to have you cook for a reason.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” Harry says, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his chest, his hand over her tummy, frustratedly unplugging the machine and bringing out the menu for delivery. “Fuck it, I’m ordering pizza. This is hopeless.”

“Have to clean your hand, Harry,” Amelie whispers, her fingertips running over the bruised and distressed skin, dried blood accumulated across his knuckles.

Harry shakes his head, kissing her hair and taking Amelie’s phone to ring the restaurant. His eyes widen as she takes the phone from his hands, setting it on the opposite side of the counter. “’s fine, angel.”

“Baby.”

Harry and Amelie stare at each other for a minute or two, silently arguing over who would win this argument. Her arms wrap around his waist, her cheek lying against his chest, her fingers gripping his waist in a tight hug, silently hoping that he’ll give in to her. She doesn’t want to know what was said to him, but she has to. Harry needs to hear that it isn’t true, that whatever thoughts were put in his head aren’t real. There wasn’t anyone to say that to her, and she refuses to let him ruin their relationship. Harry is everything to Amelie, and there isn’t anyone that’s going to get in the way of that.

He silently kisses her hair, squeezing her hip and telling her that she can lead the way. Hand in hand, they walk into their bedroom and to the bathroom, Harry sitting on the toilet and leaving his hand over the counter for Amelie to clean and bandage the right way. Her silence is overwhelming, and Harry wonders if she’s angry with him.

“Tell me what Jack said to you.”

His chin lifts from his chest, “Doesn’t matter,”

“Harry,” Amelie sighs, tears pricking her eyes as Harry winces with the sting of the peroxide, “tell me. That’s the only way I can tell you that he is wrong.”

He thinks for a moment and tears well in his eyes as he thinks about all that was said to him. “Coughed up saying you miss him and miss being with him,” Harry whispers, a tear falling down his cheek in betrayal. “Fuck.”

“Harry, baby,” she says, her thumb gently wiping his cheeks, her fingertips ghosting over his bruised knuckles.

“Can’t stop seeing you, fucking sixteen and abused by this prick, and he has the audacity to say those things to me,” he whimpers, stealing his hand away and covering his face, his elbows on his knees, his mouth covered by the heels of his hands. “Can’t stop seeing it. Need it to stop.”

Amelie’s cheeks flush with a heat of anger. “Bébé, bisous, s’il vous plait. Je t'aime. Putain, je t'aime. J'ai besoin qu'on oublie toutes ces choses qu'il a dites. Je veux l'oublier.” Her gentle voice is hurried and melodic, her hands prying away his from his face and bringing his eyes to meet hers. “Bisous. S'il vous plaît.”

Baby, kiss me. I love you. I fucking love you. I need us to forget all those things he said. I want to forget it. Kiss me. Please.

Harry’s hands grasp Amelie’s cheeks, their lips melting to each other and their tongues tasting the salty tears falling onto their skin. Her fingers grip onto his shirt, her thighs straddling his waist and her eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as his hands roam across her figure. “Je ne te ferais jamais de mal, tu le sais, n'est-ce pas? J'ai besoin de savoir que tu le sais.” Harry stands, holding his arms under her and walking into their bedroom, their lips melted into a rhythm as they kiss and share their unspoken love, taking away all that was ever said against them. All that there is in this moment is Harry and Amelie.

I would never hurt you, you know that, right? I need to know that you know that.

“Oui, je sais.”

Harry lays Amelie gently on their unmade mattress, gently kissing along her jaw and neck, his hands lifting her shirt to kiss the pudge at her hips. “Need to kiss where he hurt,” he whispers against her skin, his mouth trailing wet kisses on her inner thighs and the tattoos that cover her legs. “Need to erase all that hurt from you.”

“Can’t you realise that you have? Made me see that I’m so much more than what happened,” Amelie whimpers, her thumbs running over his lips as his chest lays against her, her legs wrapped around his waist and his forearms beside her head to carry his weight. Kissing over his cheeks, his jaw, his lips, she says, “I love you. I do.”

“Love you,” Harry murmurs against her lips, soaking in the way her warmth encompasses him, “Love you to the planets that haven’t even discovered yet and wherever the hell you are. Would go to the ends of the Earth for you.”

“Know you would,” Amelie smiles, gently nudging their bodies forward and her fingertips prying her shirt away from her torso, leaving her skin naked and bare to Harry’s eyes. “Don’t you think I’d meet you halfway?”

“Know you would.” Harry smiles, kissing Amelie’s belly as his fingertips tug the cotton down her thighs and her fingers pull his shirt over his head messily. All of their kisses are messy, and their teeth are gnashing, and lips are being bitten in the sweetest way, the way that means they love each other so deeply and unconditionally that there is nothing else in the world that matters except their way their hands are touching each other.

And then Amelie’s phone starts vibrating.

Harry groans, his hands squeezing Amelie’s hips and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips to try and persuade her. “Don’t want to answer it.” His breath is hot against her mouth, intoxicating and making her want to ignore the call. “Ignore it.”

“Harry,” Amelie whines, “Could be Jenny in labour.”

“Fine.” Harry reaches for Amelie’s phone, swinging his leg over her thighs and settling on the edge of the mattress, his hand reaching out to make her wait as she goes to grab her shirt. “Don’t get dressed, yet.”

His fingertip slides on the bottom of the screen, their best friend’s voice echoing through the speaker and making a smile come to Amelie’s features. Her arms wrap around his shoulders, her cheek lying against his bare back as she snuggles into him. “Don’t care if you two are in the middle of doing it,” Jenny says, breathing heavily and groaning as a contraction begins to wash over her. “Have to get to the hospital because I’m in labour.”

Harry’s eyes roll at the way Amelie smirks at him, her fingertips tickling his tummy as he squeezes her hands. “Ha.”

“Holy shit,” Harry breathes, “Alright. We’ll be there soon.”

“Told you,” Amelie giggles as Harry hangs up the phone, laying on her back and tugging at his hand as his head turns over his shoulder, his eyes meeting hers. “Better make this fast.”

Harry cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows rising and his eyes blinking rapidly to ensure that he really heard her correctly. “Doll.”

“Baby.”

Harry stares at Amelie in awe. Her smile is spread across her lips and her eyes are narrow as she desperately tries to persuade him to bury beneath the comforter with her, to have his skin melting into hers, to kiss her and pretend that they are the only thing in the universe that matters. His heart is pounding so heavily in his chest because she is the only thing in the universe that matters to him. Amelie is everything – all the colours, the stars, the sun and the moon, the songs and lyrics and melodies, the art and literature and the good and the bad. Amelie is all of that and more.

“I love you.”

Amelie grins, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him sweetly. “I love you. Always.”

[ithehellisbucky]

Purple Velvet

Loki x Reader

Requested by: The Fifth Marauder

Word Count: 3,480

Warnings: Happy Loki

Author’s Note: I swear I’m going to stop writing fics about the beginning of relationships. I swear I’m going to start writing different fucking stuff. 

When it comes to your dating history, you kind of struck out. All you'd dated were losers named Dave and their even shittier friends Jeff. (I'm not saying that all people named Jeff and Dave are shitty people because they're not, this Jeff and Dave just happened to be real assholes.)

But the moral of the whole Jeff and Dave fiasco (which included a stripper named Pearl, a smashed kiwi, and a kid named Eli who was way too old to be Dave's son.) But enough with the parenthesis, parenthesis tells the hidden emotions and energy of the story. This story tells a story of emotions and feelings, more than a usual story. So, either the whole story is in parenthesis, or none of it is.

When you met Loki you had no idea that a relationship with him was going to be any different from any of your previous. A seemingly cocky man with slicked-back hair was not exactly the most optimistic of reliable partners, but somehow you were attracted to him. Drawn to the tall man who was possibly wearing a cape in the whole foods checkout line was definitely something to cross off the bucket list.

It wasn't just whole foods, it was possibly every other grocery store in a three-block radius. Considering that three blocks in New York had at one time held four different Trader Joes you had met Loki plenty of times before you finally had a conversation.

It was a normal day and you had been stopping by Harris Teeter to pick up some lasagna and ice cream. While you were bending over to get a pint of Chunky Monkey Ice Cream you heard a voice from behind you. 

"Would you mind grabbing me a pint of rocky road?" The voice asks. It was the man from the Whole Foods checkout line. His voice sounded like purple velvet, not just velvet, but purple velvet. The way purple velvet looks and feels is the way his voice sounds. You may be dawdling too long on what his voice sounds like, but god was such a sexy voice.

"Yeah, sure." It was kind of a lame thing to say, but the only good response. What were you going to say instead, tell him that his voice sounded like purple velvet?

As you handed him the ice cream you quickly analyzed his features. His hair was brown, almost black, but still noticeably brown. He had blue eyes that were almost overshadowed by the shape of his eyes, but not in a bad way. He was wearing a black turtle-neck sweater that was rolled up around his wrists, not because his sleeves were too long, but as a fashion statement.

He stared at you in a pensive manner, but not in a creepy way, in a curious and polite way. He didn't say thank you and you weren't offended, he seemed far too involved in this silent conversation to engage in a verbal one.

After staring at each other for a solid 7 seconds he broke the gaze and said a simple: "have a nice day." Before turning his back, tossing the ice cream into his basket and walking away.

You weren't flustered, by any means; the only word you could think to describe the interaction was interesting. You were deeply and intensely interested in whatever world this man was living in that appeared to be much different from your own.

"You too" you exclaimed in a manner not too different from his, a subtle plea for a reunification, possibly at Food Lion, or wherever had the best deal on tomato soup.

~

As the story goes, you two met again, in Ikea of all places. You were casually walking through the store, looking for a new nightstand after it had an unfortunate accident after you read the ending of The Time Traveler's Wife. All of a sudden you heard muffled grunting noises as you were passing rows of couches. 

Like any sane person would, you leaned back into the row to see Purple Velvet trying to pick up a couch.

"Um... Excuse me? Are you okay?" You ask, walking toward the tall man who appeared to be sweating.

"Yes, I'm fine." He exclaims, standing up and brushing off his knees. "I just need to get something from under the couch."

"Would you, uh, like some help?" You respond.

"It's alright, I can do it on my own." He replies. He bends over again and starts lifting up the couch for a second time.

For some reason, you didn't walk away. It was probably because you knew he needed help, it was also possibly because he had killer back muscles.

"It looks like you need help." You exclaim, ready to help him out with the herculean feat of lifting up a couch.

"No, I'm good." He grunts out.

After about 20 more seconds of pointless grunting, he finally gives up. "Are you still offering me that help?" He asks.

"Sure, what do you need help with?" You answer, putting down your basket and kneeling down be eye to eye- or at least as close as possible considering your height difference.

"I can lift up the couch, but I can't reach far enough to grab the earring." 

"Earring?" You ask quizzically, it was really none of your business. It was just that  Purple Velvet was lifting up a couch in Ikea to get an earring, and everything about that sentence made you desperately curious.

"Yes, that's the object that I dropped under the couch." He replies calmly.

"Well, that gives me absolutely zero information." You casually respond, a slight smile forming on your face.

He grunts a little, almost like he wanted to chuckle but something stopped him. It honestly sounded more like a snort, but this man doesn’t seem like a person who you say “snorted”.

"When I pick up the couch, can you grab the earring?" He asks. 

He picks up one side of the couch, so it's leaning in an acute angle. You lie on the floor and reach under the couch to try and grab the earring. "What does it look like?" You ask. "There's a lot of shit under this couch, and I want to make sure to grab the one thing that not's shit."

"It's green, and is the type of earring that hangs down." He grunts out. "It’s an emerald color."

"Okay, thanks." You respond, reaching even further under the couch to grab something that appears to have a greenish tinge. 

When you touch that item it's gum you let out a loud ew and continue to reach under the couch. After searching around for another minute or so you grab an object that is smooth on one side and pointy on the other. You look closely, and it indeed appears to be an earring.

"Got it!" You shout.

You slither up from underneath the couch and hand Purple Velvet the earring.

He hesitates for a moment before saying anything. You almost expect him to say nothing before he lets out a quiet thank you.

"You are so very welcome." You announce, letting your positive attitude show.

You get up and begin to walk away, then Purple Velvet sets down the couch and walks over to you; "This may sound kind of weird, but I was wondering if you would like to possibly get something to eat. Together, I mean. At a place other than Harris Teeter."

His demeanor was desperately trying to cover up the anxiety in his voice. He straightens his back and looks at you with misplaced authority. The story happening out loud was far different from the one happening between the two of you, in body language, and in the emotions flashing on your eyes.

The true story going on is that Purple Velvet was asking you out on a date. In a very awkward way that seemed entirely off-brand for someone with his kind of attitude. He seemed shy and was anxiously attempting to hide it. 

“That sounds great, where do you want to go eat?” You answer.

"I saw this Italian place a couple of blocks from here, I believe it's called Mateo's?" He responds, a civil look returning to his features.

"Eh... That made be a problem." You exclaim, a puzzled look forming on Purple Velvet's face, god his voice is so sexy... "Mateo and I have a small food, I dated one of his waiters and after we broke up the waiter spit in my food. Mateo didn't believe me, so here we are. Banned from the best Italian Restaurants in all of New York City. Well not if you consider pizza"

Purple Velvet's face droops, and your absolutely positive the first thing on his mid in skepticism.

"But don't worry! I know another really good place nearby here." You nearly shout, but then you stop. You don’t want him to hate you before he even gets to know you.~

You lead Purple Velvet out of Ikea and onto the street to your left. The two of you keep on walking for about 3 blocks before turning left again and walking into a much dingier road, that could possibly be called an “alley”. You walk for about one more block before stopping at the place to your right.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you." You exclaim jokingly.

Purple Velvet calmly responds with: "I'm not so sure about that," before walking into the structure.

Inside of the building, there's a stairwell leading to the restaurant but to the untrained eye, it could just seem like it was some creepy place that shady businesses could casually murder people in.

"Oh my god, I completely forgot how scary this place looks if you haven't been before. Um... We don't have to eat here, I know a lot more..." You hesitate. “Pleasant place a couple of blocks from this, um, place." You gulp loudly, fear instilled in your heart by the looming threat of rejection.

Instead of running for the hills and being terrified of the eerie place you brought him to, Purple Velvet just laughs. "It's quite alright, I read the sign outside and I saw some people eating in the window; I am more concerned with the quality of the food than any other harm happening to me." He pauses for the moment and then tilts his head and looks at you from the side of his eye. "Unless you possibly know anyone by the name of Thor or Bruce."

"No Bruce." You exclaim. "Unless you count the one that does my dry cleaning."

He chuckles and then gestures up the stairs. 

Once you reach the top of the stairs the door is on your right, and once you step in your senses explode. You step into a brick room with posters from the 1940s all over the walls. The smell of tomato sauce drifted into your nose and the loud sounds of the kitchen filtered into the room where the seating was located.

Purple Velvets' eyes lit up, even though he didn’t make any noise. A smidge of a smile began on his face before twisting downwards to form his usual neutral expression.

"Should we wait to be seated?" Purple Velvet asks. 

"Nah, once Tammie sees I'm here she'll make my usual and then we can start eating." 

"Well, then what is your usual?" He asks, sitting in the seat by the window that you led him too.

"Medium-large pizza half, pineapple on one half and the other half without." You exclaim without a moment's hesitation, not finding it weird at all that you had not only memorized your order but had every single word and the order they were in memorized.

"Pineapple?" He pauses as his face scrunches up. "On a pizza?"

You laugh loudly, reacting to his distress. "Yes, on a pizza. Have you never tried it before?" You ask in genuine curiosity. 

"No, I've never even heard of it." Purple Velvet responds with a light chuckle.

"I'm going to guess and say you're not from New York, or America at that." You exclaim, eagerly awaiting a response.

"No, I believe I'm from Norway." He responds, confusion flashing over his face for a few seconds.

"You believe?" You ask quizzically, wondering how this adult could have no idea where he was from.

"I was adopted when I was a baby." He answers calmly as if it was an everyday occurrence to tell people life details on the first day... And from the way, this man acted it may be. "I grew up in Norway, I’m not sure exactly where, but I could have also been born in Denmark or Sweden."

You were about to interject with a statement about how hard that must be when Tammie comes walking up to you. Tammie was your nemesis from high school, and then you woke up one day and realized your whole feud was pointless. Besides, who gives a shit about shitty Danny Mueller in the first place. Also, her pasta sauce is way too good not to be friends with. And, one bowl of pasta sauce and pitcher of lemonade thrown at Danny, you were best friends. Forever.

Tammie sets down the pizza on the table and almost starts talking to you when she notices Purple Velvet. "Excuse me, care to introduce your, uh... Friend?" She says raising her eyebrows at you. 

"This is P-" You stop yourself from saying Purple Velvet and then you realize you never caught his name. "Remind me again, what's your name?" You ask, must to Tammie's disappointment.

"Loki." He exclaims, with his usually calm expression.

"Last name?" Tammie responds, her skepticism clear.

"Tammie." You say sternly.

"What, I'm just making sure that he's not a famous serial killer." She responds, trying to feign innocence.

"It's quite alright," Pur- Loki answers, a smirk forming on his face. "My full name is Loki Laufeyso-" he pauses, looks down, then regains himself "Loki Laufey."

"Okay, Lowkey Laughy." She responds, her eyebrows still raised.

"See, not a serial killer." You exclaim, gesturing at Loki.

"Maybe not a famous one.” You glare at her. “You're telling me that a man who let you take him down a dark alleyway to go into a shady building and up the stairs, isn't the least bit weird." 

"Farewell." You say to Tammie.

"M'kay." She exclaims, then points at Loki "If you kill her, I will kill you. And I'll get away with it too."

"I genuinely apologize for her." You exclaim, slightly embarrassed for her behavior... But not really, can't blame a girl for being cautious.

"No need." He exclaims as he picks up a piece of the pineapple pizza. As soon as he takes a bite of the pizza his eyes light up, and within seconds the slice is gone. "This is delicious." He exclaims, smiling, the first real smile you've ever seen on his face.

"You either love it, or you hate." You respond with a giggle.

"Well, I love it. I definitely love it." Loki is beaming as he grabs another slice. You hear something he mutters under his breath and it sounds something like: "For the fah-"

You two sit in silence, slurping down pizza. The beauty of silence is real. "What's your favorite color." You ask. He looks at you in confusion. "I mean I really don't know anything about you, and you've got to start somewhere." You exclaim even though you feel like you know everything about him.

"Green." He says. 

"Why?" You ask inquisitively.

"No one's ever asked me why before." He responds, his eyes are curious, and the mood makes you feel like you can see into his soul is as well.

"And I've never asked anybody why before." You respond, taking a bite of your pizza before looking at Loki with a comprehensive look on your face.

Loki is about to say something else before a waiter brings two glasses of water to the table. You thank him quietly and Loki simply takes a sip of his water.

"So... Why do you like the color green?" You ask him for a second time.

"I don't know he responds." He stops and ponders the question for a minute. "The mysterious aspect." He finally exclaims.

"Green is the color of plants, plants cover everything." He continues, looking out the window. "But you never really look that hard at them, unless they're beautiful." He turns back around to face you, to stare into your eyes with intensity. "But they can do anything. Cover skyscrapers, hide secret passages, they can kill you."

He pauses, and you notice that at some point you began to hold each other's hands. "They can also save you."

"What's your favorite color." He counters, dropping your hand to grab another slice of pizza.

"Purple." You say through a mouthful of pizza.

"Why?" He says, repeating the question that you had asked just minutes before. 

"Because everyone thinks that it's all fun and light until they realize how intense it can be. Purple can be intense and fun. And you shouldn't judge purple because it's pretty no matter the shade or the place it's put. It may not look pretty, but once you look closely you realize it's amazing."

Loki's nickname was Purple Velvet for a reason.

"I think our favorite colors have more to do than just colors," Loki exclaims, the darkness in his eyes far overshadowed by the light.

"Seems like it." You respond as you beam, your smile lighting up the room.

The two of you enjoy each other's company for at least another 2 hours, you couldn' tell. All you knew was that the sun had faded into twilight and that Loki's eyes were so goddamn gorgeous (and his voice was so sexy). Long after the pizza was gone, and hours after Tammie's shift had ended, the two of you were still sitting in the brick restaurant.

As the sunset is beginning in the sky you realize that you should probably head out. "As much as I want this to go on forever I just realized that it's getting kind of late, and I forgot to tell my brother I was on a date." Loki looks at you, a brief look of panic crossing his eyes. "As long as this is a date."

"We've been talking for- You trail off, looking down at your phone. "Ah, four and a half hours." You say, kind of shocked. "Time sure flies when you're having fun." You exclaim with a chuckle.

You keep on talking as you walk down the stairs and as you guide him to your building. "Well, this is my apartment." You exclaim, wishing this wasn't the end of your date. "What's your phone number?" You exclaim. Loki gives you his number, and you tell him yours.

After that exchange, you realize that the two of you are standing in complete silence. It feels comfortable with him, just with him. Nothing else.

As you stare deep into his eyes you realize that you are leaning towards his face.

Loki puts his hands on your jaw, cradling your face. His hand isn’t exactly warm, but it’s still comforting. You move your lips towards his and feel the electricity flowing between the two of you when they connect. Your bodies melt perfectly together as your lips combine. One of Loki's arms wraps around your waist as the other continues to caress your face. Your arms drape around Loki's neck, pulling you closer to his body. You feel like a puzzle piece. A puzzle piece in a two-piece puzzle. A puzzle that has finally been completed.

You pull away after what seems like hours, after what has possibly been hours. Your mouths pull away from each other, desperate for breath. You stand outside your building for another minute, feeling his breath on your face. The sun goes down on you two's embrace as you kiss for a second time, and then a third. A fourth.

After you kiss for the fourth time you stop and lean against each other. You stare into his eyes as he holds you to his chest as he drops his other hand to your waist. You move your arms from his neck to around his body, clutching him close to you.

"My name is (y/n)." You breathe out, breaking the perfect silence and replacing it with perfect noise. 

"What?" He responds, looking down at your face in pure bliss, even though his mouth didn't form a smile.

"With all the chaos going on I forgot to tell you my name." You exclaim with a giggle.

"I would hardly call it chaos, it was the exact opposite. Happiness."

You smile and go to kiss him again. Once you pull apart you look up again at his face.

He was smiling.

Requests are open!

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers​

Marvel:

Young Justice:

[preface2adreamplay]

Under Your Spell (Chapter 30) - Heaving Nights Between Friendship and Flame

Summary: An OFC & Oscar Isaac fiction.

Finale

Married Jared! Single Oscar!

Chapter warnings: Fluff, swearing, smut, thigh riding. 

Chapter WC: 3,152

Curse the things that made me sad for so long

Stef tipped the wine glass and let the cool liquid rest against her tongue. This was going a lot better than she expected. Oscar had arrived fashionably late, breezing into the restaurant and sitting himself down across from their guests. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he winked at Stef, seeing she had ordered a drink for him.

‘Good to see you again, Richard.’

‘Oh please, call me Dick.’ Richard waved a hand, dismissing the formality. 

‘And Claire, you look great.’ 

Claire was always expecting a compliment, even though she seemed to brush it off, Stef could see she was loving the attention. 

Oscar turned his dark eyes on Stef, resting a hand on the back of her chair he looked as if he was waiting for her to make an announcement.

‘You look good too?’ Stef offered, confused at the look he was giving her. 

He chuckled, nose crinkling. There was a silent conversation happening between them. No, Stef hadn’t told Claire that they had decided to start dating again. 

Oscar eyed Stef’s drink, filling it up before she could decline a top up.

‘Amazing how our schedules all allowed us to be in the same place at the same time!’ Stef was nervous, her palms were starting to sweat a little. Why did she decide on the black satin dress when there was a perfectly nice dress in a sensible material in her closet. The satin dress showed off her curves and pushed up her cleavage, which always needed a bit of help. As her mother used to say ‘it fits you where it hits you.’

And she was trying to impress Oscar, Stef had rolled her eyes a couple of times at the thought. Wasn’t it the same whenever you began dating someone? Not like he didn’t know every inch of her by heart. 

Stef cleared her throat, squirming as she felt Oscar’s fingers graze her shoulder. 

‘So, Richard has agreed to direct the video!’ She was excited about the idea. The band had a few hour long sessions via skype recently with all the new ideas they had.

Stef threw Richard’s name out there, knowing he had never directed a music video before but it would be crazy fun.

Claire handed a creased and over used notepad back to Stef, ‘And I’m doing the costumes.’

‘Wonderful, it’s all working out!’ Oscar smiled at them. Everyone seemed happy and he couldn’t even say it was the alcohol. 

‘I can’t believe you are going to spend that much time sewing diamonds onto a jumpsuit,’ Oscar had declined dessert, deciding instead on leaning back in his chair to sip an espresso martini.

‘Not diamonds, I love Stef but if I get any diamonds, I am keeping them.’ Claire giggled, pushing her ample cleavage together, looking to Richard, whose gaze was exactly were Oscar’s was. 

That woman knew how to dress for attention. Stef bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. 

Hint hint Richard, Stef thought.

‘So crystals, whatever.’ Oscar was looking at the drawing Claire had done for Stef’s outfit. ‘That’ll take a lot of time.’

‘I’ll have time. Actually,’ Claire leaned forward, her cheeks flushed on her perfectly glowing skin. ‘I’ll have a studio.’

‘Where?’ Stef piped up, knowing how small Claire’s house was.

Claire pressed her lips together, looking like she wan’t to explode and implode at the same time. She looked to Richard to get the go ahead.

‘I’m moving to L.A. to live with Rich.’ She gushed, grabbing his hand. Richard smiled, fully aware that he had hit the jackpot with Claire. They both seemed so...happy. Stef hadn’t said anything, anything she thought of saying wouldn’t be enough. 

‘Seriously fucking happy for you guys,’ she said finally, raising her glass. 

She meant it too. Claire would have the man of her dreams, a good studio to finally build her business back up and good weather to go along with it. Stef was a little jealous of the last part.

They clinked glasses and toasted to the good news. 

‘Excuse us while we go smoke,’ Oscar signalled for Richard to join him, leaving Claire and Stef with a wink.

‘Anything you wanna tell me?’ Claire wiggled her in her seat and placed her elbows on the table, leaning closer to get the gossip she craved.

‘I am so fucking happy for you, Claire.’

‘And?’ She teased.

‘And it won’t be long until you have that diamond you want.’ 

‘No, that’s not what I’m talking about.’ Claire grabbed Stef’s wrist as she was about to drain the last of her wine.

‘Oscar....’ She whispered, as if Oscar would hear and come rushing back in.

‘He’s here for the weekend.’ Stef replied without changing her expression. How long could she keep it up? Not long, apparently.

In a rush of words that almost formed a sentence she blurted ‘ok we decided to start seeing each other again coz we love each other,’ and saw Claire lean back, her hands covering her mouth, eyes wide with shock.

‘I knew it!’ Claire said with such confidence it made Stef giggle.

‘I knew you guys were seeing each other.’ She took a few sharp intakes of breath and swallowed a large mouthful of wine. 

‘But it’s not fucking surprising!! Oh my fucking god. How come you didn’t tell me straight away? When did this happen?’

Claire had changed mood several times while bombarding her friend with questions. Surprised, happy, smug and finally, indignant.

‘Ok, you done with the questions?’ Stef looked over her shoulder, seeing the men outside chatting.

‘His birthday weekend, when I was in New York. We decided to be adults about it, admitted our feelings and figured we would see how it goes.’

‘And hows it been going?’ Claire was back to wiggling in her seat, eager for information.

‘This is the first time I have seen him in the flesh since then, so I suppose I will let you know when he leaves.’

‘Long distance, oh I feel your pain girl.’

‘Not anymore,’ Stef grinned, ‘you’re moving to L.A.’

They both squealed in delight. 

‘Does everyone know? Does Darius know?’

‘No! And don’t tell anyone, please Claire. Even Darius, I don’t want to get him excited for it to not work out.’

’He would be excited, Stef. He’s always wanted you two to get back together.’

Stef nodded in agreement. 

’Are you happy?’ Claire asked, taking Stef by surprise.

‘I am. If I can keep my crazy mind at rest, it’ll work and I won’t drive him around the bend.’ 

The wine was gone, Stef knew it was best to bow out now and have an evening she would actually remember tomorrow. 

‘You’re not crazy, you know. It’s huge, what you’re doing. You have overcome so much in the last year. Clap yourself on the back and go be happy.’ Claire was pulling out her card, paying for the meal even though Stef had argued with her about it.

Richard and Claire left hand in hand, Claire throwing a wink at them over her shoulder.

‘You told her.’ Oscar turned, raising an eyebrow.

‘She figured it out, which wasn’t difficult.’ Stef slipped her hand into his as they walked. 

‘How are you gonna be when she moves to be with her beloved?’ Oscar led her down a side street, a short cut to her house. 

‘I dunno. Supposing now is not the time to worry about it, I’ll just enjoy my weekend and freak out next Friday?’ Stef shrugged.

Oscar let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist, spinning her until her back hit the brick wall. The street lamp overhead fizzled and went out, coming back on again, flickering intermittently.

‘What are you doing?’ 

Oscar’s mouth was on hers in a flash. Her hands were wandering up the front of his jacket, seeking out the warmth of his hard lined chest. 

‘Is there anything you don’t want me to do?’ Came his answer.

Stef opened her mouth to groan, but nothing came out. So surprised was she at being manhandled.

He was kissing her neck, his tongue meeting the skin before sucking softly. His head was between her breasts when she took her first intake of breath.

‘Right here?’ Stef gasped.

Oscar looked up at her and smiled, pecking her on the lips. Taking her chin in his hand, he pushed lis leg between hers, forcing it upwards until she was resting against him.

Stef closed her eyes, feeling the urge to rub against his thigh. It was exactly what he wanted. 

Fucker, she thought. 

‘Fuck me,’ was what she said.

‘Right here wasn’t good enough a moment ago,’ he kissed her again, his tongue sliding against hers, hungry for it. 

When they agreed to start anew, she didn’t realise everything would be different. It was ALL new. Though they had kissed and fucked and made love hundreds of times before, he felt new. 

‘Maybe I should hike up your dress and slip my fingers inside you.’ His hand ghosted over her leg, fingers grabbing at the material. 

Stef sighed, leaning her forehead on to his, she found herself smiling. 

‘Mmhmm,’ he licked his lips, watching her squirm against his thigh. ‘That’s what I thought.’ 

Oscar’s hand was up and inside her panties in an instant, moving his leg to get access. Stef cried out with the loss of the pressure only to feel his fingers stroking her sensitive bud. 

‘Or maybe,’ he pulled his hand away and let her dress fall from his hand. ‘I’ll let you go down on me right here.’

Stef looked at him with disbelief, she loved that dirty mouth.

‘You’d love that wouldn’t you?’ Oscar kissed her lightly, watching her mouth slacken, her tongue running against her lower lip. 

‘That’s my dirty girl,’ Oscar sounded pleased with himself. 

Stef kissed him like she didn’t want to stop. And if someone’s laugh hadn’t echoed off the walls surrounding them, she may not have stopped. The thoughts of sliding to her knees and opening his pants were all that was on her mind. 

‘Still don’t care if anyone sees, huh?’ 

‘Either I go down on you right here or you can at least get me off with those fingers.’ 

Oscar drew back, his face neutral, the bulge in his pants betraying his arousal. 

‘Remember our first time?’ 

‘Of course I remember, we had nowhere else to go. We had to fuck in an alley behind the music centre. It was hot.’ 

Oscar again parted her legs with his own. Stef wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding on while she ground against him. ‘Get yourself off. I wanna see your face.’ Oscar whispered, teeth grazing her earlobe. Resting her face in the crook of his neck, she felt it spreading out from the pit of her stomach, her fingers were tingling. She was gonna cum hard. Shivering, she clawed at his jacket. 

Oscar took her face in his hands and kissed her, smothering the cry he knew would come. Nails dug into his shoulders, her cunt aching from the emptiness while it throbbed lazily from her orgasm.

Oscar set her back down on her unsteady feet. ‘You gonna be ok to walk back?’ He asked softly, brushing his thumb against her jaw.

Nodding, she cleared her throat. Stef felt a little embarrassed, in the flickering lamp light, he picked up on how flushed she was.

‘You ok?’

‘Yeah, that actually brings back some memories.’

They were walking again, hand in hand. 

‘Sure did. At least we have a bed to go back to these days.’

‘Why didn’t we do it when my mom was out, what were we thinking?’ 

‘Your mom was never out and I shared a room with my brother. I know you like it dirty but I don’t think you’d want my brother watching you.’

Stef crinkled her nose, ‘nah.’

‘Hence, the dark alley. It wasn’t so bad though.’

‘Let’s get back home so I can at least repay you.’ 

Oscar pursed his lips, purring. ‘What you got in that filthy mind of yours.’

***

Brendan was rubbing his face on Oscar’s leg, leaving an unnecessary amount of hair behind. ‘Man, he loves you.’

Stef slid onto the bed, watching her cat show Oscar more love than she had received from him in months. 

‘Do you let him sleep up here?’ Oscar stroked the soft hair under Brendan’s chin.

‘Hell no, he’s not allowed in here.’

The bed creaked when he stood up, ‘come on buddy out with you.’ 

Brendan followed him like a hound follows his master. Stef could see the flash of his eyes as Oscar closed the door. 

‘Need me to take the squeak out of your bed, Effie?’ 

Stef bit her lip laying back on the bed, parting her legs for effect. Oscar eyed the scene in front of him, fiddling with his belt. 

‘I think, it’s about time you got naked.’ He began rolling up his sleeves like he was about to plough the fields.

Stef watched him for a moment, the heat pulsing from her core. 

Fucking sexy. 

He trained his eyes on her, he said nothing but his face told her everything. 

Unzipping her dress with her back to him, she let the dress fall to the floor. Her bra came off next. Oscar stood stock still, just watching her slow strip tease. 

Kneeling back onto the bed, she crawled over toward him, her eyes meeting his. A silent conversation; pulling down her panties she dipped her fingers against her folds, wetter than she thought…and he had only just rolled up his sleeves!

The sound of his zipper filled her mouth with saliva, like he was a gourmet meal she was about to devour.

His cock sprang free, thick and veined it fell into her waiting hand. His eyes said what he wanted.

She dropped both hands to rest on her legs and stuck out her tongue, licking the underside and guiding it into her mouth. His breathing changed, there was no other signs he was enjoying it. His face remained blank. 

Suddenly, his hand grabbed her shoulder. Stef let him fall from her mouth with a pop. ‘What?’

‘What’s that?’ Oscar was pointing at a scar above her breast. 

Looking down, Stef sighed, it was better to come clean. ‘I like it rough. You know that. Sometimes, I like it to hurt.’

‘Well,’ he said grabbing his cock in his hand, guiding it back toward her mouth. ‘Lucky for you, daddy’s picked up a few new tricks over the years.’

While Stef sucked and moaned around his length, he undid his tie, wrapping the fabric around his fist. ‘Climb back onto the bed.’ He ordered, his voice still soft. 

Obeying, Stef lay back against the pillows. 

‘Do you trust me?’ 

‘I don’t even have to ask what you’re going to do because I already know I want you to do it.’ 

Stef gasped when he bit down onto the sensitive skin of her chest. ‘Leaving a mark of your own?’ 

Leaning back on his heels, he admired her. ‘You’re more beautiful now than you ever were.’ 

Blushing, she tried to hide her face. ‘Don’t,’ he warned. ‘I want to see your face tonight. It’s been too fucking long.’ 

Her hands were bound and her legs were wrapped around his waist. His fingers were deep inside her, rubbing against that spot he had found when they were younger. And he hit it over and over. Stef cried out.

‘Forgot you were loud,’ Oscar said proudly, leaning in to kiss her. ‘I love it.’

Stef was shaking, pulling against his necktie that kept her hands in place. 

When she had gathered herself enough to open her eyes, she saw Oscar breathing heavily, smiling down at her.

‘I want you inside me.’ She didn’t care if she didn’t orgasm again. He had given her so much tonight already. Just feeling him was going to be enough.

Oscar lined himself up, pushing in slow, watching her face. Stef went crazy for this and she didn’t know why; he was fully clothed. There were few things sexier than her man taking her before he got naked. She was laid out bare before him, exposed and vulnerable. 

‘Fuck yes.’ Stef writhed beneath him. 

‘You got new tricks?’ She cursed aloud while he started a good pace, his cock slipping out from her heat and plunging back in. ‘I can’t wait to see what they are, coz this is hot as fuck.’ 

Each thrust would grind him closer to her, going deeper than any man had been.

‘I want your cum, baby.’ Why was she talking so much? Never before did she feel so mouthy. 

‘Oh you want it?’ Oscar flashed her a smile, placing a hand on her throat and squeezing gently. Stef nodded before her eyes rolled back. 

Oscar felt her tighten around him, her body rigid. Her mouth was open in a silent cry. The sight of her pushed him over the edge. Collapsing down next to her, he whispered sweet nothings into her skin. 

‘I don’t think I’ve come that hard in years,’ he breathed. 

Stef hummed sleepily.

‘Oh no, don’t do that.’ He untied her, rubbing the chafed skin on her wrists. ‘No sleep yet.’

Stef tutted, rolling on to her side to look at him.’You wanna stay up all night and talk?’ 

‘That would be nice. We should probably have a few serious talks before I go back home.’

‘No, don’t talk about going home, not yet, you only just got here.’ She whined, grabbing his arm  and throwing it over her waist, snuggling into his side.

Oscar stroked the hair back from her forehead. ‘You want me to move up here and be close to you?’

Stef looked at him, reading his expression, he was for real. ‘But, New York is home. For both of us. When Claire leaves, I got no one up here.’ She hadn’t wanted to think about it just yet, but maybe the freak out she promised herself could come now while she had Oscar to talk her down. 

‘You wanna move back home then?’

‘Oh fuck, what about Brendan, I can’t bring him with me?! I can’t abandon him!’

A soft meow came from the hallway, the fucker always knew when she was talking about him.

‘We will sort something out, don’t worry. He can live with us. I’ll let you sleep for now.’ Oscar kissed her brow, her nose and her mouth, finding her lips curled into a smile.

‘Can’t wait,’ she whispered. 

She was asleep by the the time Oscar stripped and got into the bed next to her. 

‘I love you, Stefanie James.’ 

Stef nuzzled against him, sighing in her slumber.

[whirlybirbs]

I didn’t know I needed that Peter b Parker bit but now I can’t live without him

WORKING ON IT ; PART TWO

                                               ( PART ONE ) | ( PART THREE )summary: you go out with coworkers. spider-man peter crashes the party. you put two and two together.pairing: peter b. parker x neighbor!readerrating: t for swearing!a/n: i’m glad y’all liked this! i love these two already. also, a glimpse into reader’s work life.

“So.”

“So?”

You peak over the edge of your drink, tilting the angular glass as you smirk. The cosmopolitan in your hands is good – the four of you had beat the Friday night rush after the monthly PTA meeting and now, surrounded by your co-workers, you’re seated on the edge of a bar stool in a nice place in downtown. It’s a leg up from the usual spot – last week, the bar three blocks down from the school was unceremoniously demolished by Green Goblin and Spider-man duking it out over some weird DNA splicer thing. Figures.

Typical New York City.

The T.V. over the bar is replaying clips about the red and blue Spider-hero as you settle in.

“Who is he?”

You roll your eyes, waving a hand as you take another sip at the question.

Your co-workers react loudly to the dismissal, clamoring at you gently. Jen, the art teacher, gives you a pointed look. “No, nope – c’mon. Gossip. It’s girl’s night.”

“It’s nothing,” you say, “We’re nothing.”

You weren’t lying – you and Peter B. Parker were just… neighbors. For now.

The night after the Great Plumbing Disaster, he’d knocked on your door with two hot, large pizzas in his hands and a devilish smirk on his face – he’d clearly just come from work, donned in his usual grey suit and camera bag slung over his shoulder. In his other hand? An ACE Hardware bag with a new faucet. 

“Pizza and some home improvement?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

And… that was it. I mean, sure, he swung by more often now and maybe the looks you both shared were a little more lingering… and maybe you thought about kissing him goodnight every time he left your apartment. And maybe Peter had sent you a drunk text two nights ago asking to go on a real date. And maybe you’d agreed and the next morning, when he knocked on your door hungover and with an apology already in his mouth, maybe you’d still said yes. 

But… you were just neighbors. For now.

“Nothing?” Mrs. Landon yelps, “Nothing. He came to the front office –”

And maybe Peter had decided that dropping flowers off at work for you was a good way to let you know he meant the apology and the date. 

Yeah, maybe he’d gotten a visitor’s pass to deliver the flowers during history – maybe it churned a lot of giggles out of your third graders as Peter tossed you a wink and a charming: “See you ‘round, beautiful.”

And maybe it was adorable.

“He’s sexy,” Fran says, waving her hands. The music teacher is a bit older than you but unabashed, “Oh my goodness – he’s handsome. If I wasn’t married –”

“I second that!”

You place your drink down, crossing your legs and laughing. You wave your hands, swallowing. “Okay, okay, yes – I know. He’s adorable and nice and –”

“He’s a riot.”

“ – That too, but we haven’t been on a real date yet, so it’s still not a thing –”

You spend the rest of the night dodging the obvious prying – eventually the conversation moves on to Linda and her son’s new girlfriend, and you spend the night in the company of your fellow teachers. The staff of the small Brooklyn elementary school where you taught was like a second family to you; by the end of the night, you’re buzzed and feeling thankful.

The group of you are all waiting for an Uber when it happens. 

I mean, in hindsight, maybe it wasn’t as cool as you’d thought, but you’d never seen Spider-man up close and personal. Living in NYC, you were bound to at some point, yeah, but never did you think you’d be outright flirted with you while he held a taxi above his head. 

“Hey.”

“Uh –”

Peter’s footing slips a bit, groaning as he hauls the taxi up and over his head. Down the street, Venom is going about his usual bullshit – the throw had been good enough to catch and you can’t help but feel small under the hero’s gaze.

God, you look nice. Really nice. It must have been PTA night. You’d been worried about making a good impression on this years new round of parents. Peter’s trying not to be so distracted by the heels.

Confidence strikes his in the gut.

“Come here often?”

He winks.

The mask is… charming.

And he’s familiar. The voice. The mannerisms. Everything.

You’re hooked in the jaw with the pickup line, brows shooting up as you sputter. It’s… cute. You’re grinning ear to ear and Peter is, too, under the mask.

“I, uh, no, I mean – Isn’t that heavy?”

“What? This?” Peter makes this snorting noise under his mask, trying to make the taxi seem weightless in his arms. He’s breaking into a sweat, “Ha! No, no, it’s uh… no.”

He moves, putting the yellow cab down in the street as gently as possible before rolling his shoulders. He blinks between you and then to the big black beast at the end of the street before cracking his neck rather unceremoniously. 

“Listen, I’d love to stay and charm the hell outta you, but –”

“SPIDER-MAN!”

“– This guy just really needs a snickers, y’know?”

You don’t know why he seems so familiar and you don’t know what to say – and you really don’t know what to say when the infamous Spider-man cocks his head your way and laughs:

“See you ‘round, beautiful.”

It hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Oh my fuck.”

[bat-losers-inc]

Collisions in the Dark (Ch 24) : Endgame

Pairings: Jason Todd/Tim Drake and Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne

Summary: Jason and Tim have to relearn how to live with and trust each other without the threat of Ra’s al Ghul hanging over them. Their progress happens in slow baby steps, but it’s a start. [Final Chapter]

Chapter Notes: Endgame: The third and last phase of the game, when there are few pieces left on the board.

      _____________________________________________________________

“When does a war end? When can I say your name and have it mean only your name and not what you left behind?” — Ocean Vuong

     _____________________________________________________________

Things stayed murky between them after that night. Their anger had subdued, and though they no longer fought with each other they also didn’t work to strengthen their relationship. Instead they existed in some on-again-off-again cycle, coming together in bed late at night when the urge to fuck or hold each other was the strongest, and afterwards turning their thoughts back inwards.

Their family tried to be supportive— self help could be a long and hard battle, after all—  but Tim could tell that they worried that their relationship was unhealthy. Under any normal circumstances, Tim would have agreed with them.

On one such a night Tim found his way into Jason’s bedroom blocked by the other boy’s tall form.

“Another nightmare?”

“C’mon, you know it is.”

Tim tried to shove past him, but Jason merely leaned his hip against the doorframe and cut off his path. Tim shoved his bangs out of his eyes. He needed to get a haircut, but he hadn’t had time with so many other issues on his mind.

“What are you doing?”

Jason jerked his head back down the hall. “Go to Bruce.”

Tim laughed, “What? Are you ratting on me again?”

Jason didn’t meet his eyes, not out of fear but perhaps… boredom? Like this was all a game that he had outgrown. Despite all of the shit that they endured together, Tim still couldn’t get a read on his thoughts.

“This isn’t meant to be a punishment, Tim. I thought you said you were going to try to work on your relationship with him.”

“When did I say that?”

Jason picked at the worn out elbow of his thermal shirt, pulling off the small pills of thread he found there. “Oh I don’t know. A few days ago. Somewhere in between fucking me and falling asleep. You were uncharacteristically talkative that night.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Tim growled, struggling to keep his voice down,  “You have no idea what I’m going through right now—”

“Then tell me.” Jason’s voice was little more than a fierce whisper. “How am I supposed to feel for you if you don’t tell me what’s going on with you? I mean shit Tim! I constantly feel like I can’t trust you anymore and I don’t know how to fix it. Trust comes from honesty— from talking about our feelings. With both of us talking about our feelings.”

“Really Jason? Cause I don’t see you emptying your heart out to me every chance you get.”

It was a low blow. Tim regretted saying it instantly but the words had already been said and now Tim knew he was going to get Jason’s biting honestly.

“Fine. You want to know how I’m feeling? Every night that you come here looking for a quick fuck makes me feel like I’m back in my apartment fucking a stranger.”

Jason’s words cut into Tim like a razor. A stranger, he thought. Had he really pushed Jason so far away from him for him to call Tim that?

Jason looked him up and down. “Whoever this you is that grips my hair too tight during sex and lays in the sheets next to me at night without saying a word, I don’t know him. He doesn’t match up with the you who used to kiss my neck and whisper my name between kisses. You talk to me so little now that I feel like we never knew each other. It makes me feel like you don’t want a relationship with me.”

It didn’t feel true, but Tim understood that he was guilty of this. Some part of him was hoping that Jason loved him enough to let Tim take the parts of Jason that he wanted. Now Tim was realizing Jason loved him enough to say ‘Take it all or take nothing.’

He reached out to cup Jason’s face. “That’s not…My thoughts are dark and depressing and not likely to help anyone that hears them. I do want this relationship to work.”

Jason closed his eyes and pressed his cheek into Tim’s hand for a minute. He seemed to savor Tim’s affection like he’d been starved of it for far too long.

Finally Jason opened his eyes and said, “I know we’ve both been a bit… vacant recently. But we need to at least try to mend some bridges or else why are we even bothering staying together?”

Tim burrowed his teeth into his bottom lip and nodded at the floor. “Okay.”

He let his hand fall to his side and walked silently back to his room. That night he wrapped himself back up in his damp, sweat stained bedsheets. The moon was full and bright through Tim’s window. He stared up at it and went another night without rest.

      _____________________________________________________________

He found Jason in the library at one of the large tables under the windows. He’d brought the league files Talia had given him when he moved back into the manor. They were spread out before him now.

Tim struggled to keep his eyes on the top of Jason’s head where it was bent over his notepad. He didn’t need more information on Ra’s or the league to fuel his paranoia further.  

He took a deep breath before his spoke.

“Sometimes, you get this look in your eyes… this distant and almost painful look that I can never pin down, and just for a second, I see my mother’s eyes staring back at me.”

Jason tensed over his notepad, unsure if he should glance up. “What are you doing, Tim?”

“Just let me finish,” urged Tim.

“I can’t say that my mother was ever around enough for me to really understand her, let alone truly love her. But sometimes you get that same look and it reminds me of her. It’s about the only time I think of my mother and feel true sympathy for her.”

Finally, Jason pulled his gaze up to meet Tim’s eyes. “What was that about?”

“I’m telling you the truth… a truth . To match the one that you told me the other night. And if you ask me tomorrow, I’ll tell you another.”

Jason’s lips tilted up into a soft smile.

Despite the spark that that ignited inside of Tim’s chest, he pushed on until the end.

“I won’t lie to you, Jason, and make false promises for our future. For now the only promise I can make is to match a truth for a truth until the day comes when there are no secret thoughts left between us.”

Jason reached across the table to twine his fingers with Tim’s. “Thank you.”

       _____________________________________________________________

The leaves skittered across the road as Tim walked side by side with Bruce, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat to protect them from the cold air. Already they had walked for more than five minutes, leaving the imposing facade of Wayne Manor to fall away behind the large oak trees.

Bruce looked at him like he was intent of speaking up. His eyes dropped to the road stretching out ahead of them. He adjusted the scarf wrapped around his neck and spoke so suddenly that Tim knew it was a forced effort on the older man’s part.

“How’ve you— I mean… I’ve been seeing you and Jason together more. It seems like things are improving between you two.”

Tim’s lips twitched. “I think so. We’re taking the time to fix things but it’s slow going.”

“I was surprised when you asked if I’d like to take a walk with you today.” said Bruce. “You haven’t exactly been seeking out my company as of late.”

“That’s because every time I turn a corner in the manor you’re there offering it to me.” Tim grunted.

Tim glanced sideways at Bruce as he shrugged his shoulders. “Well I didn’t want to make the assumption that you didn’t need it. I’m trying to make amends too, Tim. I want you to feel like you can come to me.”

Tim sighed and pulled at hand free of his coat to rub at his brow. “Yeah, I know and I’m trying to get to the point where I feel safe coming to you instead of Jason. Maybe we’ll get there eventually, but you have to understand that you may never be able to support me emotionally like Jason can.”

Without realizing it, they had both stopped walking and stood facing each other on the side of the road. A cold breeze swept in between them, trailing dead leaves around their ankles.

Bruce squeezed Tim’s elbow. “I would never try to replace Jason, Tim. I just don’t want to lose you because of my past actions.”

Tim nodded, eyes on Bruce’s hand where it rested on his arm. He tried to remember the last time that he’d had a conversation like this with Bruce. One devoid of mission debriefings and words like self help and therapy. Back when it didn’t feel like Bruce was trying to phone it in until he could shove Tim off on the nearest medical professional.

Tim stepped in closer until he could lean his head against Bruce’s chest. Bruce’s arms came around him slowly, but the heat they offered was just as warm as Tim remembered it.

“You won’t lose me. I swear.”

It felt strange and comforting to have so many people close to him. The past week had seen Tim and Jason trading truths both big and small. Little things like Jason reminding Tim that he loved him and Tim echoing it without hesitation. And bigger truths like Tim telling Jason how he was sometimes afraid of the way that he loved Jason more than he’d loved Conner. Of how Tim felt hollowed by Jason’s death on such a grander scale. That same night, wrapped up in each other’s arms in the dark, Jason told Tim about one of his recurring nightmares. Their truths were fears, loves, dreams, and opinions. Slowly Tim felt their walls coming down brick by brick. With each one that came down Tim and Jason struggled to allow other members into their inner circle of trust.

It was slow, but it was a start.  

~~~ Fin ~~~

[chicksung]

Renegade- A JJK Oneshot

Genre: Hybrid AU, Bandit/Runaway AU, angst, romance, and if you squint, there’s a bit of fluff.

Pairing: Rabbit Hybrid! Reader x Human! Jungkook 

Warnings: Crimes, stealing, swearing, a small hint of violence, a dash of anxiety and slowly growing feeling.

Summary: Choi Jae-Hwa is probably the most wanted criminal in her small village. The rabbit hybrid is forever trying to find a safe place to hide, but is always fund by the police. Humans have never shown her any type of respect, even before her family was taken away from her, but when a human bumps into her when she’s running from the police, what’s a bunny to do?

Word count: 5.2k words

Post Date: 22/05/19

Part of the Green Tea and Melodies series

Song: ‘Run’ - BTS

A/N: Hey TaeCups and SugaKookies, I’m so sorry I haven’t been active...like at all. I kinda broke my laptop so I couldn’t get started on this as soon as I wanted to. But, this is a collaboration with the one and only @worldwidebt7 so please keep an eye for an illustrated version of this oneshot. Please enjoy the show!

The Oneshot ll The Comic

“It has recently been reported that that troublesome hybrid, Choi Jae-Hwa, has been apprehended by the local police this morning, let’s hope that they have her for more than 24 hours” 

The TV outside of the temporary cell blared on about things happening in the world, which was quite enjoyable, despite the fact that it was muted. The local radio made up for the lack of sound. The shackles around my wrists was nothing new to me. It’s been like this for years. Since my parents had been hunted and killed by a pack of wolves, I have been on my own since I was 11. I remember what happened so clearly.

~10 years prior~ 

We had gone on a walk in the forest, hand in hand with my parents, Yoona and Taemin. My parents’ relationship baffled quite a lot of people, considering my mother was a bunny hyrbid and my father was a fox hybrid, but they somehow made it work. I ran ahead of my parents, looking at the flowers that grew.

“Eomma, look!” My eleven year old self called out to her, pointing at a Lily of a Valley. My mother walked over, looking at the pretty flora.

“Very pretty, just like you!” She exclaimed, pressing a kiss to my cheek before joining my father once more. Suddenly, I could sense the worry of my mother. She was turned away from me, looking towards the deeper part of the woods. Her ears were at their fullest height and her body was tensing up. 

“Honey, are you alright?” My father asked, turning her face towards him. My mother’s coffee brown eyes were scared, terrified. 

“We need to get out of here. Now! Jae-Hwa, come on, we’re leaving.” She answered my father before calling out to me. Just as I grabbed my mother’s hand, a pack of wolves jumped out from behind the trees. 

“A family I see, a full course meal.” The biggest and clearly the leader called out to the pack and my family, licking his lips. He charged at my father, knocking him to the ground. He started to bite him, first his arms, then his stomach. 

“Yoona. take Jae-Hwa and run!” He called out weakly, attempting to bite back to no avail. My mother was about to turn when she was taken out from behind and in the same position as my father. There was nothing I could do. 

“Jae-Hwa, run!” was the last thing my mother cried out before she couldn’t do anything but accept her fate. I followed her words, turning on my heel and running away from the scene. I was quite fast for a rabbit hybrid, being able to outrun the female wolves that ran after me. I ran as far as I could before I reached the small village I called home, but this time, returning without my only guardians.

Times sure do change, don’t they? I had been caught up in my own thoughts, not realizing that it was now dark outside. Well, time to execute the plan...again. I always kept a bobby pin in my hair, which it pinned back my fringe. Despite being handcuffed, it was surprisingly simple to grab the sliver of metal. With the bobby pin in hand, I began to pick the lock on the cuffs, hearing a satisfying ‘clink’, telling me I succeeded with step one. I quietly shifted to the other side of my cell before a voice interrupted me.

“Escaping again, I see.” Seungri’s voice rung out across the empty hall. I smiled softly at his voice. Seungri had been the only person who actually bothered to talk to me from behind his own bars. 

“You’ve seen me do it so many times, yet you still haven’t told them. I can’t help but wonder as to why. Care to tell me?” I responded, pressing my back against the wall, curiosity getting the better of me. 

“I know you only do this to survive, you’re nineteen, you can’t do anything about it, it’s your way of survival.” He called out, leaning forward on the bars that kept him in the small human enclosure. I smiled weakly, before parting my lips to speak again.

“Hey Seungri, thanks...for having my back.” I mumbled sincerely, grabbing some loose bricks on the wall. He smirked and gave you a kind look.

“No problem, kid.” He finished the conversation before heading back to his small bed. Just as I started to squeeze through the small window, a guard began to walk down the hall.

“Hey, what are you doing!?” The structured, wide shouldered man started yelling, pulling his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the barred enclosure. My fight or flight instincts kicked in. If I don’t run, I will possibly be thrown into some sort of pit. Then again, I’m already destined for hell. But I can’t possibly fight this man, he’s probably been through a lot of training and there is no way that someone like me will be able to win, especially a rabbit hybrid. I squeezed my thin body through the bars and dropped to the ground below just as he entered. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I’ve escaped this place many times before so this wasn’t difficult to do. Now, where to go now? So I did the only thing I knew how to do since I was 11. 

I ran.  

I was well away from the small community jail, even though a statement had been issued for my arrest...again. The evening markets were lit up like a Christmas tree and the smell of the food was causing my stomach to rumble. I flipped up my dirty lilac hoodie and tried my best to flatten my ears. I walked into the bustle of the market, chatter and the laughter of the small village children echoed throughout the small venue. My attention was turned to a stall that seemed to be selling baked goods, cakes, bread, pastries, the whole lot. The short and plump woman that stood behind the display table was busy talking with customers and making sure the bread in the small portable oven was burning. ‘She won’t notice if I swiped a few things, will she?’ I thought to myself, taking a loaf of bread from the table as well a blueberry muffin and was reaching for a croissant when the woman grabbed my bony wrist in her hand.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, young lady?” She asked, her eyes piercing holes in my personal bubble. I attempted to shake her hand off but her grip only tightened. 

“I asked you a question, now answer me, girl!” She yelled with an authoritative voice, her other hand flicking off my hoodie, revealing my ears. Being one of the few hybrids in town since my parents were killed, people immediately recognized me. A wave of anxiety hit me and once again, fight or flight kicked in. I could either confront the woman and end up being handed in to the police or run with food in hand. The latter seemed to be the better idea, so with a final glance towards the woman, I sped off. I could hear the woman yell something along the lines of ‘You mangy animal!’ but I couldn’t hear her. Some people tried to chase after me, but being an animal with agility, none of them could catch me. I was looking behind me as I kept running through the market, smirking when I saw how far behind me they were. Doing this however meant I didn’t see the figure in front of me. I ran into them, knocking me to the ground. While the loaf of bread stayed in my grasp, the blueberry flew out of my pocket and into a nearby bush. 

Well, there goes dessert... 

I held my head for a moment to stop it from spinning. Suddenly, a voice spoke and a hand was in front of my face. 

“I’m so sorry, miss. Are you alright?” The voice was one that sounded like it belonged to an angel and when I lifted my head, he certainly looked like one. His soft brown hair hung in front of his eyes, his skin was like honey but his most mesmerizing was his big doe eyes. If he had a tail or antlers, I would have mistaken him for a deer hybrid. I slowly took his hand, the break still in my hand.

“I’m fine.” I said coldly. I didn’t let his features get in the way of the fact that he was a human. Humans were ruthless and they cared not for any hybrids, only to lock them up, sell them and mistreat them. I stood up and brushed off my knees and went to walk away from him when he called out to me.

“Hey, be careful. There’s a swarm of people down there looking for someone who fits your looks. I would suggest heading back into town. It’s safer there.” He informed me and smiled warmly. I nodded before brushing past him, walking in the direction that leads back to the village. I climbed the small hill that wasn’t that well lit. I saw the plump woman wailing to a policeman, probably about our ordeal. I smiled to myself, knowing that I escaped their grasp twice today.

Sunrise was always the prettiest over the village. Especially when you are perched on top of the school building roof, it’s where you got the best view. My chestnut brown hair didn’t look greasy in the light and it made the freckles on my mocha skin visible. I loved these times, where I wasn’t constantly on the run from the police, being given stares from parents and shielding me from their children’s vision like I was some sort of beast. I was used to it though. Most people in the village resented or were afraid of me, well, everyone except one. Kim Seokjin, the owner of the local cafe and the person who has known me since I was a baby. Which I was on my way to see. He always supplies me breakfast and never gave up on me, even after I started getting into trouble with the police. I pushed the glass door open, the bell above it ringing. Seokjin’s gaze snapped up from wiping down the breakfast bar/counter and gave me a loving smile. 

“Well, if it isn’t Snowy Valley’s most wanted. Welcome back, JaeJae. How have you been?” He announced as soon as he saw me. I smile at my nickname and went to the counter.

“Oh, you know. It was on the radio again. I was able to escape. If they keep putting me in the same cell, they are never gonna learn that I can escape so easily. Although, I ran into someone last night. I’ve never seen him before, but he wasn’t scared of me, nor did he seem to recognize me but he warned me of a search party that was assigned to me.” I explained, my ears turned sideways in confusion. Seokjin smiled and walked towards to the barista coffee maker and started making me my usual, a mug of hot mocha. 

“I believe that’s the new kid. He came in here a few weeks ago and introduced himself as Jungkook. He seemed like a nice kid. Said he recently moved in to finally live on his own. He was very quiet and reserved however. He did seem comfortable talking to me. Overheard the news report on you and asked me if I knew you.” 

“To which you replied yes?”

“Well, considering you are like my daughter, I had no choice but to say yes. After I confirmed that, he smiled to himself and whispered something about you being adorable.” I blushed at the last comment. 

“Jin, stop it. No he didn’t. How old is he, he seemed pretty young to me.”

“Only a couple years older than you, he’s 21.” He looked younger if I was being honest. 

“He’s still a human, but a very good looking kid.” I admitted. I watched Jin frown before smirking.

“But not as handsome as me, right JaeJae?” I burst into laughter.

“Of course not.” 

Out and about today was quiet, very quiet for Snowy Valley. The reason for this was probably that it was Monday morning, which meant school went back for another week. I wandered around aimlessly before I stumbled across a newly opened bakery. I peeked inside to see a tall, thin woman who seemed to be in her mid-thirties behind the counter, a kind smile on her face. I slipped inside and looked at the assortment of baked goods that chanted my name from behind the sliding glass door. This was one of those bakeries where they were able to be used by the customers. My stomach rumbled immediately.

I’ll just grab a few loaves and some muffins and I will be gone.

I reached for the bread, successfully grabbing without being detected and with a couple muffins stuffed in my pockets, I headed towards the door. That’s when a shrill voice screeched “Hey! You didn’t pay for those!” At those words, the plump woman from last night appeared from the back, rolling pin in hand. 

“It’s you again, you feral animal!” She shrieked, running from behind the counter and towards me. 

Well, now I was battered, no food and extremely hungry. It was late at night and no one was around. I was in the back alley behind an apartment complex, near the dumpster. My eye was bruised, my muscles hurt and I’m pretty sure my stomach was bruised. 

Looks like I’m sleeping here tonight...

I picked up sounds of footsteps but couldn’t be fucked opening my eyes. 

“Hey, are you alright?” A familiar voice asked, causing me to open my eyes. My gaze was met by the doe-eyed boy from last night. His eyes were glazed with concern and worry. I scoffed.

“Do I look fucking okay to you?” I spat coldly, crossing my arms over my stomach, only to remember that’s where it hurt the most and hissing in pain. 

“Wait, let me help you. I’ll take you to my apartment and I’ll treat you.” He calmly said, grabbing my hand. I ripped my hand from his grip, staring daggers at him. 

“Unhand me, human! Don’t touch me!” I exclaimed, trying to get away from him and run, but my legs refused to move. 

“Okay, I won’t touch you. But please, you’re hurt and if you aren’t treated, it’s only gonna get worse.” He explained with a hint of concern in his voice, as he knelt down to my height. While my brain didn’t trust him, my body acted according to my heart. I followed him with my head hung low and not saying a word. He led me up several staircases and to a door with the number ‘97′ on the door. He unlocked the door and opened the door for me to enter first. I scowled at him and entered the small apartment. I looked at the dark room, my night vision being one of the best thing in the situation. I heard the door slam behind me and I turned around, my ears pricked all the way up in fear. My eyes grew bigger and a small whimper escaped my lips. 

“Woah there, Bugs, no need to freak out. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He smiled, revealing his teeth that looked similar to me. I didn’t realize how much he looked like a rabbit, so much so that it was almost scary. Before a single could escape my lips, he grabbed my wrist and guided me to his bathroom, his grip remaining tight despite me struggling to release myself. He finally reached the bathroom and lifted me up quickly and placed me on the counter, our faces only a mere few inches away. I scowled at him, my bangs covering one of my eyes.

“I can walk myself, you know.” I spat, eyeing him suspiciously as he grabbed ointment and bandages from a cupboard. He only looked at me and chuckled a little.

“It was the best way to make sure you didn’t run away. I can’t let you leave untreated.” He replied, unscrewing the cap from the ointment and instructed me to extend my arms. I still didn’t trust him. My experiences with humans were not pleasant, as my body clearly showed. This was the only way I could survive. I hissed in pain as I felt a cold liquid drop onto one of the scrapes on my wrist, retracting it back as quick as I could.

“That fucking burns!” I shrieked at him, examining the invisible damage. He grasped my wrist and yanked it towards, causing me to growl slightly. 

“Stop being a baby, Jae-Hwa.” He commanded, not looking at me at all, but that right now was the least of my concerns.

“How the hell do you know my name?” I hissed sourly, squinting my eyes as I stared daggers into his soul. He finally looked up and sighed through his nose, only to giggle.

“You’re probably the most controversial citizen, let alone hybrid in this village. How could I not know you. I’m Jungkook, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He held his hand out for me to shake, but I stared at it before looking at him with my cheeks puffed out.

“Who said you were an acquaintance of mine?” I seethed, my ears flattened against my head in distrust. Jungkook looked a little dejected at my words but I didn’t care. 

“Well, you seem pretty comfortable with me touching you, despite what you’re saying, but Jin said you didn’t like humans that much, him being the only acceptance.” His words sung out almost like a melody as he wrapped my  wrist in a clean, white bandage. I tensed at his words as my eyes wandered down to my wrist, wearing his sculpted hands guided the bandage around my wrist and the lower half of my palm. He secured the white cloth with some medical tape and grabbed a small plastic band-aid and placed it quickly on my cheek. I was slightly taken aback by his action but didn’t say anything. He looked at me for a second and saw the way my arms were folded across the lower half of my stomach. 

“Is there anywhere else that hurts?” He asked, eyes watching my expression carefully. I scoffed and blew my bangs out of my eyes.

“No.” I replied bluntly, lying straight through my teeth. His eyes softened at my words, clearly still concerned.

“Jae-Hwa, I know this may sound weird but, may I look under your shirt?” He requested hesitantly, the fear of rejection smelt so strong, it made me crinkle my nose.

“I-I...fine.” I mumbled in defeat as I lifted my shirt no higher than my middle. A large blue and purple bruise covered the majority of the left side of my stomach, the right covered in red hand prints. Jungkook’s eyes were blown open, clearly terrified at the sight he saw.

“J-Jae-Hwa, how badly does it hurt?” He questioned timidly, his eyes still fixated on the blue and purple flower that was bloomed on my stomach.

“Does it look bad to you, genius? It hurts to even fucking breathe.” I cursed at him, eyes glowing a soft amber before returning to their natural color. 

“S-Sorry, that was dumb question, I get it. But can you please stop acting like such a jerk for five minutes and let me bandage it please. If it stays uncovered, it’s not gonna heal as fast.”

Just let your guard down for a one moment, please...    

I inhaled deeply and looked at him straight in the eyes.

“Fine, but I’m extremely thirsty and a bathroom isn’t exactly a comforting environment.” Was any place comforting to me?

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll make some tea, and then we can just talk, so I can understand you a little bit more.” Jungkook excitedly replied, practically bouncing on his toes. I hissed as Jungkook suddenly placed pressure onto my bruise to wrap it up in a similar white cloth that was around my hand. He secured it and moved onto my left elbow. He squeezed a little bit of ointment on, causing me to hiss in pain again. He wrapped up the disinfected graze and weaved his way out of the bathroom, supposedly the kitchen. I groaned as I slipped off the counter and down the passage that connected the rooms together. I saw Jungkook hunched over the stove, preparing to cups of tea and looked at me as he realized my presence.

“I only have green tea. I hope you don’t mind.” He smiled awkwardly as he placed a teabag in each cup. I smiled to myself, making sure he didn’t see, as I played with the strings of my hoodie. That was when I realized how disgusting I looked and felt. Damn my stupidity for not realizing before he dressed me. 

“You alright, Jae?” He asked, using the nickname only Jin called me, hence catching me off guard. Normally, I would have spat a melody of swear words at him, but remembering what he had asked me to do in the bathroom refrained me in doing so.  

“I feel disgusting.” I spoke my mind in a hushed voice, embarrassed at my state. Jungkook chuckled before brushing past me and down the hallway, disappearing into his room. This would be the perfect time to escape, however, I remember that I have nowhere to run, the major factor is that, my feet remained rooted to the ground. A few minutes later, Jungkook emerged from his room with a pair of sweatpants, an oversized shirt and black hoodie in a pile in his hands. 

“I found some clothes that I don’t wear much so you can change into these for tonight. I’ll wash the clothes you’re wearing now if you want, that’s if you’re staying.” He said in a voice that was almost asking, if not begging, me to stay with him. I took the clothes in my hands, simply nodding and quick-walking to his bedroom. His bedroom was small, but not as small as I expected. I decided not to dwell too much and quickly stripped off the lilac hoodie, the white shirt, ripped jeans and the socks with way too many holes than I was willing to admit. I let the sweatpants sit loosely on my waist, the waistband hidden by the shirt several sizes too big and finally the hoodie. I slipped out of his room and back into the kitchen, where Jungkook placed the two teacups on the table and sat down.

“Take a seat.” He said simply, brushing his bangs out of his face. I followed his instructions and slumped into my chair. 

“Now, there’s one thing I want to know, why do you hate humans so much?” He goes straight for the personal question, doesn’t he? 

“Personal experiences, I’ve only been exposed to the evil side of humanity.” I said shortly, looking into the cup of cooling tea before taking a sip.

“But why are you so close with Seokjin?” Jungkook asked, lowering his head in an attempt to look into my eyes under my bangs. 

“I knew him before my parents died. He was best friends with my father, who introduced my mother to him. He consoled me after their death, and I stayed with him until I was discovered by his landlord, who certainly didn’t like hybrids. He threatened Seokjin with homelessness if he didn’t get rid of me. I couldn’t let him live on the streets so I took my leave from the premises. It was for the best. There, you have your explanation. I steal because I have no money whatsoever, therefore I can’t buy anything, besides, I love thrill of being seen but not so much being caught.” I downed the last of my tea before standing up. 

“Thanks for the tea and for treating my injuries, but I have to go.” I said abruptly, not sounding thankful at all. I turned towards the door but before I could leave, I felt a grip on my wrist.

“Oh, no you’re not. You are staying here until you’re 100% healed. It’s too dark and cold out there anyway. Please, Jae-Hwa. Be rational. Just..stay here. Take my room, it’s the least I can do.” Jungkook gave me his big doe eyes, which were utterly adorable that they made me go weak in the knees. 

“Fine, but no funny business.” I said flatly, giving in. I brushed past him and entered his bedroom, pulling back the covers and slipping between them and falling asleep.

I didn’t intend to stay as long as I did. I only planned to stay there for two days, but two days slowly turned into two months. I don’t know how I convinced myself to stay, considering I was staying with the species I hated the most. Jungkook was sweet, kind and considerate, despite me giving him the cold shoulder more often than not. He always made me green tea when I had breakfast and the beverage slowly became my favorite taste ever. The days and nights passed quickly but I often went out at night. Tonight, Jungkook insisted that we went to the markets together as he always got the best food for the best prices than he did at the small supermarket we had. With my newly washed hoodie over my head, Jungkook and I stood in a sea of citizens of the valley. My eyes wandered, spotting the woman who caused me the injuries that littered my body. I felt my blood boiling that such a kind looking woman could make such a cruel act. I latched myself onto Jungkook’s arm in an attempt to keep myself from picking another fight with her.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, looking utterly confused. 

“Just roll with it, Jeon.” I said, calling him by his last name. I guess we grew closer than I first thought.

“Alright, Choi.” He responded coolly. 

He dragged me to almost every stall in the markets, his hands occupied by brown paper bags, filled with a range of different items. He finally stopped at the stall I had been dreading, the bakery stall. The plump woman hadn’t noticed me standing behind Jungkook, clearly blown away by his beauty.

“And how can I help you, sir?” She asked, her voice so sickly sweet, I almost burst into laughter. Jungkook’s eyes scanned the display table before pointing to a loaf of bread and two blueberry muffins. The woman flashed him a smile before grabbing grabbing two different white paper bags, one long one for the bread and a smaller one for the muffins. Jungkook paid the woman and was turning away from her when she finally spotted me. She immediately stopped smiling and her face wrinkled in disgust.

“You filthy animal! What are you going to steal from this nice man? Police! Police!” She yelled, catching the attention of quite a crowd of people. A policeman came running up to the woman, panic written across his face.

“Ma’am, what’s wrong? What happened?” He questioned, watching as the woman broke into fake sobs.

“It’s the hybrid! She tried to rob one of my customers.” She fake cried with a subtle smirk on her face. The policeman saw my lilac hoodie and started booking it after me. My instincts kicked in as I grabbed Jungkook’s hand and started running from the scene. Jungkook exclaimed in surprise, dropping half of the bags, including the loaf of bread. The policeman was hot on our heels as I rounded into an alleyway and climbing on top of a dumpster. The policeman rounded the corner and we were cornered. 

“Choi Jae-Hwa, stand down and we won’t need to do anything irrational.” The broad man commanded, his eyes dark and serious. I looked up at the roof above me before looking back to me. 

“Jungkook, I need you to trust me for a second. It might seem crazy but we’ll leave with our lives.” I said, my eyes filled with sincerity and uncertainty. I had been so cold to this boy and now, I was suddenly asking him to trust me. 

Real smooth, Jae. 

Jungkook looked at the officer before looking back at me. I extended my hand, part of me hoping that he would take my word and trust me. 

“If it means you’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He whispered and took my hnad. A soft blush crept across my cheeks before I jumped up and grabbed onto an low ledge and pulling myself onto the roof above. I reached my hand down for Jungkook to grab.

“Oh, no you don’t.” The policeman called and attempted to grab Jungkook’s ankle. Thankfully, I was able to pull him up, the officer missing him by less than an inch. I looked into Jungkook’s face, just centimeters away from mine. I walked on the tiled roof of the abandoned building...her house. 

“What is this place?” Jungkook asked, looking around before his eyes fixating on the beautiful view of the moon and stars. 

“The place I grew up before all of this.” I explained, pointing to myself, indicating my criminal record. 

“Why did you give up? Why did you rather have been hated for this than trying to fit in?” Jungkook asked. Silence fell upon my lips before I parted them.

“I’ve given them a reason to hate me. No matter how many wounds were on my feet, I always remember one thing...how to run away. It was the only thing I really seem to remember from my childhood. The first time I shifted with my parents and ran around with them. I know they wouldn’t be happy with what I did, but at least they know I’m surviving.” I smiled sadly, until I felt Jungkook take my hand.

“Jae-Hwa, you don’t have to do this alone, you know.” He said calmly as he looked into my moonlit eyes.

“What are you saying?” I asked, my gaze wandering over his features. 

“That I have been crushing on you for far too long. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I love you and I would love to give you the best life I can, even if it means I gain my own criminal record.” My eyes widened. He is really willing to give up his entire life to be with me.

“I-I love you too, Jungkook.” I whispered, looking around. His face moved closer to mine and looked at me with love in his eyes.

“Are you really willing to give everything up?” I asked him, my heartbeat quickening. He smiled with his teeth and intertwined our fingers.

“For you, I’d be willing to give up my life.” He whispered before he pulled me in to kiss him. His lips were soft and sweet, moving professionally across my lips. I broke the kiss and smiled happily. 

“What do you say, shall we go cause some trouble?” I asked with a sneaky smile. He laughed.

“Let’s do it, for we are the renegades of the entire valley.” 

A/N:This is my first one shot ever. I am really proud of how it turned out and I’m sorry if it’s kinda cringey. Reminder, that this onehsot will be illustrated by the magnificent @worldwidebt7 so stay tuned for that. Until next time, my friends.

~ Kookie’s Cup of Tae 

[tiny-ruby-seeds]

Sinister Kid

Fem!Witch turned Hunter Reader x Michael Langdon fic

This is also a Supernatural × AHS: Apocalypse crossover AU of sorts but don't worry, you don't need to be 100% knowledgeable in both as I’m doing a bit of lore blending anyway

Loosely Inspired by Supernatural season 3 Episode 4 “Sin City”

AKA... This is what happens when "Carry On My Wayward Son" shows up on my iPod's Shuffle after a listening to my Michael inspired playlist. And yes “Sinister Kid” is on said playlist. I mean, of course!

TW-Mentions of multiple gruesome murders, mentions of (what can possibly be seen as) cannibalism, demonic/paranormal stuff, Sass, language, possible UST, & heresy (cause the Antichrist & Supernatural… duh)

Premise- A simple exorcism case for you goes terribly wrong when the demon burns your exorcism parchment... And traps you both underground. Forced to wait until help arrives you strike up a conversation with the demon you've been hunting since Lawrence... Only to discover this "demon" maybe something else entirely...

“...A sinister kid is a kid who

Runs to meet his maker

A drop dead sprint from the day he's born

Straight into his maker's arms

And that's me, that's me

The boy with the broken halo

That's me, that's me

The devil won't let me be...”

- The Black Keys, Sinister Kid

Now I’ve been on some bad jobs since I started hunting.

It happens!

Hell, I’d even say it’s in the job description of hunting in general. Right next to crappy hotel rooms, more bumps and bruises then you’d want to deal with, and the metric tons of salt you have to run around with. Not everything is a simple case or as cut and dry, some of it is even life and death as I had learned on the job. Bad things happen, it’s Murphy’s Law after all.

But this hunt…

This hunt was already turning out to be one of the top ten worst I’ve been on.

Or that’s what I was thinking as I cleared another stone. My arms starting to get strained and sore from tossing a few already, trying to clear out the rubble before me. I really gotta do some strength training don’t I? I thought.

I could feel the dirt and dust that puffed from each stone I moved start to cake itself on my skin thanks to the sweat. I also really didn’t want to think of the state of my clothes only that my black tank top and jeans would probably have to go through the wash at least a few times along with everything else I had on.

All of it left me feeling disgusting, and that didn’t help my mood as I breathed in the stale air that came from being underground. I could smell earth and stone, tinged with the echoes of incense and something… Heavy and sickeningly metallic smelling that I made my stomach turn coldy. I quickly tried to put my mind on something else.

Luckily, or maybe not so luckily,  it came in the form of another sharp twinge up my arm as I reached for another bit of rubble. I tried not to hiss or whimper as I picked it up. Tossing the brick behind me blindly.

Okay, maybe not so blindly as I was half aiming for a certain target standing behind me...

“You missed, Hunter,” I could hear a silky voice say proudly behind my back after I heard the tell tale smack as it hit the floor.

I could feel a few curses bubbling under my breath. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of snapping at him (I was enjoying how annoyed he was as I tried to ignore him) but I could hear the smile in his voice. I didn’t want to look back and see it but my rebellious brain decided to imagine it anyway. That slight gleam of teeth crossing a his face making him look even more handsome than-.

Okay. Stop. That. Train. Of. Thought. Right. There, I thought wanting to kick myself for the umpteeth time since I saw him, hating I couldn’t get it out of my mind no matter how hard I tried.

That was probably my biggest bitch with this whole thing. I was in this situation with a demon who got under my skin in more ways than one, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Oh No... I had the gut feeling he fucking knew he was getting under my skin too with every stupid smirk and boy was he playing on it.

I grabbed another stone and threw it- hopefully- a bit closer in the direction of his voice (not gonna look back dammit!). I could, sadly, hear the clap as the stone hit the floor once again and but the annoyed huff from behind me made me smile to myself.

Getting closer am I, your highness? Good. I thought stretching out my back.

“Must you keep tossing those around like that?” I could hear him say in that haughty tone like he was a prince talking to a peasant.

That smooth voice of his both made my heart thrum and annoyed the holy hell out of me at the same time. Luckily the annoyance was winning over as I had been listening to him whining for a bit now and I just about had it.

So much for trying to ignore him, I thought swinging around to face him. I could swear he smirked but it was so brief I must have imagined it.

“Oh trust me, Sir,” I hissed. “This was not how I planned on spending my Friday night either. But some black eyed ass decided ‘let’s throw a temper tantrum’-”

I jerked a thumb at the rubble behind me that I had just cleared enough to make a dent in. Did I mention that it was the only easy entrance to this place and just a few minutes ago? Oh sure, it had been particularly less dirt and rock filled then until a certain someone decided I wasn’t going back anytime soon to that stupid car I had to borrow while my ride was in the shop (god I missed that car).

Yeah, say what you want about me throwing rocks at him but I think I was in the right for being pissed off.

“- ‘Cause the mean hunter trapped my dumbass in a devil’ trap and tried to exorcise me’. So pardon me, your highness, if I make a mess of your wannabe Satanic Vampire Lair.”

I motioned the great underground chamber around us as my voice echoed off the golden colored stone.  

From what info I could gather before I let this demon “talk me into coming here” this was originally built in the cold war by some really rich, really paranoid holy man with a small congregation under his lavish mansion. There had been a few updates like the small windows that lined the  left wall when you walked in (they were probably lined with bullet proof glass back in the day or something), but other then that… It still really screamed church.

This main room was the was the size of smaller chapel sanctuary, with enough horribly uncomfortable dark wooden benches to support it (they didn’t have that pew look so I’m calling them benches). It was even complete with an arched gothic ceiling above us and lined in alabaster that glowed. Along the left side were painting, like stained glass windows below the actual grated windows themselves. It you probably wouldn’t even know it was underground and would have thought it was just some random chapel somewhere. I would probably even find the place pretty too.

Shame that the room also boasted the skulls of goat heads and skeletons of snakes on pedestals along the walls. Above them in highly suspected paint (okay I’m betting it was dried blood but.. ew) were symbols. Some inverted pentagrams, some Sigils of Lucifer, and some Leviathan Crosses. Complete with a black alter that wafted that metallic sickly perfume of blood, sulfur, and death.

You know all signs that point to umm… Evil Yahtzee as it were. The same evil I was here to take down.

The demon, Langdon -or so I had heard him called at the bar I had met him at (the meatsuit’s last name maybe?)- let out a long low exhale in response, like he was dealing with a particularly stupid child (Dick… Wait... Don’t think about that you horny idiot!). Rolling his eyes as he leaned back, arms crossing in front of his chest. He gave me a scathing look from where he stood on a deep wine colored rug. A corner of that same rug was still lifted to show just a small part of a vivid angry red Devil’s Trap painted on the marble floor below him. A little bit of handy work I had started when I broken in a few days back after I suspected him and had just finished with a line from a spray can I had tossed in some far corner of the room.

I couldn’t be too proud of my handiwork right then as he looked annoyed. I hated that him annoyed made him look little just a bit hotter if possible. Oh who was I kidding? He just had to be one of the hottest guys I had ever seen! Dressed all in black, he was fairly tall and lithely muscled like a jungle cat with the presence of a rock star. I could see why he passed as a pretty successful server at the local upscale place nearby (think high end mobster/ politician/ vampire feel and you’re pretty damn close).  

His eyes were a startling cerulean that was breathtaking to see and hard look away from. His ginger gold hair, fell in waves and curls across his brow but a few inches short of his strong shoulders, catching the candle light like a halo. Those locks framed a face that you would have sworn an artist cut and sculpted for a statue. That square jaw that you’d want to trace with your finger tips, that proud nose, and those soft lips that would probably tempt an angel if such a thing were possible.

Now, I wasn’t one to go crazy over guys like this but I utterly utterly hated he was so damn attractive. It figures that a guy like him would be possessed by one of the worst demons I’ve come across. One I had been hunting for weeks now. One whom I had been having one hell of a time tracking until recently.

I had thought I had him on the ropes before but I guess should have known better. He had all but vanished... Until now. I half wondered if that was his game in this town (as he seemed to change with each new one)- possessing attractive men before feeding his victims their own intestines. If so I guess I can give that monster points. Even I would be pretty tempted tell him a few places he could put that tongue of his if he wanted if I hadn’t known…

Uggh, I really need to stop asking Madison how she was doing when I called for Zoe. She’s giving me terrible ideas and I don’t like it, I thought, ignoring the familiar pang of missing home that I was still trying to get used to even now. Thankfully (or probably not thankfully seeing where it came from) that train of thought was stopped when he spoke.

“Yes, because you were so keen to free me when I politely, kindly, asked to be released and to stop with that pitiful excuse of an exorcism,” Langdon quipped as he propped one of his hands under his chin.

The demon was looking at me in a way that reminded me of the way a cat did when watching a mildly interesting mouse. Debating if if would be worth the effort to kill it or not. I gave him one of my patent you-gotta-be-shitting-me looks that I had learned from the best.

“Well, when you find a dead body in the back room you tell me if I should be so keen,” I snapped, getting pretty fed up with his bullshit.

He rolled his eyes with an almighty sigh. As if I were testing his patience, like he wasn’t already testing mine… The asshole.

“Once again I told you,” Langdon said, almost groaning aloud (I had the feeling he was very tempted to groan but didn’t want to make it seem like I was getting to him) “I didn’t kill that man back there.”

He tilted his head to motion over to the closed door to the back room where the corpse was. Last I looked it was a few hours old, still stinking of sulfur, still pretty bloody seeing as his chest was carved open.

“So... What? He just fell on the knife and accidently carved his own heart out just in time for your little Black Mass?” I said pointing to the altar on the far wall.

Last I looked blood was starting to congeal in that black stone bowl (yeah… ew), the ritual athames nearby not yet clean from it as well. Blood that wasn’t there I broke in a day or so ago to paint most of the seal. Now, I had done the research in the lore all seemed to say the same thing: A stone bowl, plus a black Satanic altar, with ritual knives equals...

A heart had been in that bowl a few mere hours ago.

Probably from the poor bastard in that back room that I had been too late to save.  

Just another name to add to this bastard’s kill list.

The thought made my blood run cold from the guilt. Once again, I was glad he was stuck on that cheap ass rug thanks to the trap. Not so glad that the fucker had torched my damn exorcism earlier though, the bits of ash that were once my leatherbound book were still right before the altar. You know, the exorcism I had done all of that research on and had spent hours trying to make sure I got the damn Latin right (Gods, I hate Latin).

Fucking demons.

“Odd…” Langdon said, the ghost of a smirk crossing his face, I could swear his pretty blue eyes flickered black for a moment. “...I don’t recall ever saying his death was an accident.”

I snorted. Yeah rude, but a pretty, killer demon with a sassy sense of humor? Must be Christmas. I restrained myself from cursing at him, going back to the stones, grabbing another and tossing it- hopefully more in his direction.

“Missed once more, Hunter,” He said in a singsong tone that I promptly ignored (asshole) as I grabbed another.

I started to tune out his chiming in every now and then on my aim (I wasn’t aiming at him, per say... But I wouldn’t be upset if I did hit him) as the only thing I wanted to think about was getting out of here. Getting this asshole exorcised, getting his meatsuit somewhere safe if he was still alive (I hoped he was cause -gods- that would suck out loud. I’d have no chance at all with a guy like that seeing as I’m a bit of a hot mess right now, but still...), and maybe crashing for a week or two after a long hot shower.

I don’t know how much rubble I had cleared when suddenly the demon’s voice caught my attention. For some reason, he sounded rather insistant.

“-Should really start taking them from the top.” Langdon advised suddenly. “You keep taking the stones from the bottom and it will eventually cave in on you.”

So I got a pretty, killer, sassy, know-it-all demon on my hands.I thought sarcastically. Oh happy day!

“Look, why don’t you just shove it, you-.” I was snapping at him when I heard a tell tale shift of stone above me.

Oh crap-!

I just managed to get away from the small landslide of debris. Instinct from years of training helped me tuck and roll out of the way as a load of stones, brick, and dirt started to tumble down where I had been. A terrible jolt had me wincing as I could feel the tell tale pain of rolling on my spine on a stone floor would have me even sorer than before. But I wasn’t under that rubble so there was that.

Although I kinda wished I was when I looked back. The past hour of work was gone. Buried under stone and earth. I was back where I started.

Fuck.

“God Dammit!” I cursed heatedly, kicking a small rock at the pile

“I told you-.” I could hear the demon start with that superior tone but I wasn’t having anymore of that crap.

I rounded on Langdon half wishing I had one of those rocks in my hand, there was no way I would miss facing him now.

“Oh just fuck off already, your highness! That would have happened even if I had grabbed them from the top! We’re mostly underground in case you haven’t noticed! Or did you forget when you buried us here?!” I snapped.

He gave me one of those looks I was used to getting from demons, that cool impassive look that left me with the feeling that he would happily rip my tounge out if he had the chance. I had probably annoyed him enough.

Good, I thought. That makes two of us.

I stared at the new pile of rubble and sighed. Yeah there was no damn way I was gonna clear it in just a few hours. Maybe if I had my spells but some of my useful ones where among those ashes or back in my car. Yeah pretty useless right now. I could try transmutation but… I really wasn’t sure if trying one of the “Wonders” was a good idea. I hadn’t tried any of them- save for my personal gift- since…

… Well since.

I glanced over to one of the high windows that I had propped a bench under a few moments ago, the dim light of a nearby street lamp shining through the barred grate. I could try one of those again as I hadn’t tried the other two but seeing as those grates were made of iron and I didn’t really have a strength spell at my disposal (do we have one of those? I’ll have to bug Zoe as I think we should), I had the feeling it would be nothing more then really yanking at already pretty strained muscles.

It looked like my best option was to wait for backup. So here I was in the romantic candle light…

With one of the biggest pain in the ass demon’s I’ve hunted yet.

Yeah, this hunt was slowly way up the list to the “top 5 worst hunts I’ve been on.”

Just my luck.

I trudged over with a sigh to my favorite deep burgundy leather jacket I had on a nearby bench, leaving it there to keep it (mostly) clean as it had been a gift from my friends when I started with this life (they had said I had to look the part after all).  Quickly I grabbed it and started fishing through the pockets both on the outside and the trick pockets a certain someone (I suspect Nan as she always agreed when I bitched- both verbally and not- about not having enough pockets) had sewn for my phone and the other odds an ends.

Finally finding it, I clicking it on and was met with a weak service sign. I shouldn’t be surprised, it was just as it had been a minutes earlier. I thought about trying to call Stu, my backup for this hunt, once more but the last time I had just managed to get through I had been met with the voicemail instantly.

Either the Stu’s phone had died or he was holed up somewhere with that hot waiter he was eyeing...

God, I hoped the phone died. Stu’s flirting made me sigh and headdesk on a normal basis, he was kinda like a brother I didn’t want but got stuck with. Has been ever since I met him on that old Miller job back when I started. So the last thing I needed was to even think of him having sex cause… Yeah no, hot guy or not- ew.  If I was going to be trapped here with a demon I wanted to be on my guard, not puking my guts up.

I let out a low groan in frustration and had to keep from running my hand over my face as it would probably feel disgusting. Well more so then I already did.

“I suppose this is where we both wait and see who comes first then: The cavalry... Or the Indians,” The demon I had trapped lilted suddenly, obviously putting two and two together.

I glanced over to to see Langdon watching me curiously with a tilt of his head. Guess he knew he didn’t need to ask about the cell service. Well he probably already knew about it, it had probably been part of his plan when he brought me here…

The asshole.

“Or…” I started, seeing an opening. “You could, you know, wave your hand and clear it all up like you did when you made it all fall down.”

Yeah... It was a long shot, I know, but you bet your butt I was gonna try to annoy him enough for it. Telekinesis was not one of my stronger gifts compared to a few other things. Besides it was barely a push compared to what he had showed he could do even stuck in that trap that bound him at his powers on the spot.

And besides, stubbornly annoying people was something I knew I was good at. Hell a certain teacher of mine once said it was one of my gifts, witchcraft not included.

“That would be up to you, Hunter. Perhaps I would consider if you took care of my little problem here,” Langdon insisted, tapping the rug below him with his boot.

I snorted. Yeah right, like I’m going to let your ass out.

“Aww what’s wrong? Can’t use your right hand for that? Don’t know what to tell you, sweet heart...” I told the demon with a grin.

Okay… Not my best comeback and I get the feeling I’d hate myself later (cause, ugh, really? Didn’t we already say we’re not going to go there with him? The hell is with your brain today?) but it was so worth it for his reaction.

He gave me a disgusted look, eyes narrowing, his lips tightened into a line. I have to admit I was a bit gleeful to see it (oh did I make you feel uncomfortable? Good. Cause you’re doing the same for me with your cheap trick demon pheromones, bastard)- but I continued.

“...Besides, I’m not stupid. Don’t insult us both by pretending you wouldn’t skin me alive right after I got you out of there, Demon.”

Just like you did the others.

The words where on the tip of my tongue but for some reason I didn’t say it. Probably because he knew exactly what he did, hell he knew it the second he introduced himself to me. I had been so damn close before he had run last time. Have to admit I was impressed it took him so long to take the bait though. Usually I snag quite a few demons with the whole “Hitchhiking newly Grad Student” bit and I was that age it worked for me. But that’s neither here nor there. He was finally in that damn trap. I finally got him.

I couldn’t help but take step back and almost fall against the wall behind me. I slid down to the floor letting myself breath for a bit.

Not sure if it was pure relief from finally trapping that asshole or from the earlier adrenaline burst- We had a small little tiff before I trapped him, I had a few bruises forming but the asshole barely looked like I touched him, there were a few bullet holes in the far wall that show I sure as hell tried- but I was exhausted. My body was starting to feel heavier, and heavier each moment.

Yeah not good. Not good at all.

I tried to keep myself awake by trying to review my very few options. I could keep calling but what good would a full voicemail do Stu or myself if it even went through? Best way for him to find me would be by leaving my phone on for the GPS signal. He knew I always had my phone and he was a genius with his computer after all. Plus he knew I was working this lead after some curious bits of info came from the most recent found body by the police as well as a little bit of spellwork.

He’d come. I knew he would.

All I could do was wait.

On the floor I was fishing through my jacket again, this time for my earbuds. If I was going to have to sit here and play the waiting game then the least I could do was listen to music until I needed to use the spare battery. With any luck it would wake me up. If Stu didn’t show up quickly and if my demonic friend here did have back up show up before him…

Well...  There was a gun on my left hip holster and a few bullets left in my clip with their names on it. Not like a phone would help me then either.

“And if I were to promise to slit your throat as opposed to skinning you?”  Langdon asked after a bit, an eyebrow raised as he looked down at me appraisingly on the floor.  “It would be faster than the other ways I could kill you with and less painful than what the others would most likely propose.”

I shook my head. Nice try, I thought. But you’re going to have to do better, you bastard.

“Oooh so tempting, let me think… Hmmm, that’s gonna be a hell no.” I said, finally finding my blue earbuds.

Yes!

I went right to the music app on my phone, going right to the playlist that I had saved on there per the insistence of certain close friend (God, I missed her). I made a show of putting in the earbuds as the demon watched. I could see him starting to glare at me coldly as I clicked on the playlist. I was even nice enough to flash a winning smile as I flipped him off, grabbing my jacket and threw it on myself like a small blanket. Yeah I know, will probably need to clean that jacket too but I’d worry more about it later.

Before you ask, no, I normally don’t rest in the room with a demon. That’s like hunting common sense with the use of salt and to always click the safety off before firing a gun. But this demon was locked tightly in the strongest Devil’s Trap I could find, he couldn’t leave that unless the seal was broken either. And that would take me or someone outside the trap scraping the paint off or by cracking the marble floor and I sure as hell wasn’t going to do it. Plus, I seriously doubted he had as many friends he claimed.

A low level black eyed demon like him?

Yeah, right.

Besides the adrenaline crash was really starting to creep in and kick me hard, it was becoming a fight to keep my eyes open, and my vision was blurring. If I pushed it would make things worse or so experience and a few earned scars had taught me.

Meditation, that’s what I can do, I decided. A certain red-haired witch had once said it would help in situations like this. It would be restful but I wouldn’t be sleeping. I tried to clear my mind, ignoring how sticky and dirty I felt and the demon’s cold gaze. It wasn’t easy but slowly I tried to sink into the lyrics from the melodic tones of Stevie Nicks singing…

“...Maybe it’s only a dream

I don’t want to feel that

Well it’s one more link- in the chain

I don’t believe that…”

***

Guess I really need to practice the whole meditation thing as the next time I opened my eyes I was curled in a ball on my right side on the cold stone floor. My phone was utterly dead, and the earbud on my right side was starting to press against my inner ear painfully. I must have dozed off, the songs of playlist lulling me like a lullaby. Yeah, I could almost hear the shaded lecture and the well placed smack up the head from a certain witch if she were here.

I ached from sleeping on the floor but it was an ache I had grown used to since I started hunting. So the pain was familiar at least even if the place I was in wasn’t. I pulled the ear buds out of my ear carefully, trying not to yawn as I reached up slowly, feeling my black tank top creep up my stomach as I stretched out sore muscles. As I did, I gave a bit of a moan that probably sounded pretty pornagraphic. I would be a little embarrassed by it if I wasn’t alone but it felt so damn good.

Too bad my half awake brain completely forgot I wasn’t alone in the least...

“I must admit I’m almost astonished that you don’t snore,” A now familiar velvety voice lilted around me, snapping me awake faster then any cup of coffee could. “You’re a women full of... Surprises, aren’t you?”

I swung over to see Langdon, lounging on the rug like a cat on a lavish throne. There was a devilish smirk on his (already) far too handsome face that made my cheeks burn. His blazing blue eyes running over my form as thought I had invited him to take all the time the the world to do so. A pink tongue suddenly running over his top teeth as though he saw something he was half tempted to bite into...

Oh fucking hell…I thought as I all but clapped my arms to my sides, feeling my face burn and a part of me start to thrum hungrily, start to ache in a way that I really really didn’t need right now. There was that strange pull to him again, starting to kick into overdrive. Beckoning me to his side.

Just kill me now please .

“Were you watching me sleep this whole time, you asshole?!” I almost screeched, wishing my cheeks would stop burning already.

Use it, get angry, I thought. Anger was good, not lust for a damn demon… That’s bad! Seriously, his meatsuit is a snack, I get it! But he’s possessed by a douchebag whose using every damn trick in the book to get under your skin, so...

Let’s not, please.

“Yes, because there is oh so much to do when in a Devil’s Trap.” He replied sarcastically, blue eyes looking away (thank god, I could start breathing again, seriously I’ve dealt with other demons before. Why was this stupid trick getting to me? Don’t blame his looks on this one, I’ve kicked the ass of a few attractive werewolves in the past) as he leaned up to examine his fingernails.

The rings on his hand caught the dim light, onyx and ruby gem’s glinting as I huffed.

“Couldn’t you speak in tongues, twist your head around and spew out pea soup, or find some other way to amuse yourself?” I grumped, trying to fish through my jacket for my spare phone battery.  

Thankfully, my heart rate was starting to go back to normal and my body was cooling down. But the pull to him was still there but I was trying not to be bothered by it or at least trying to not draw attention to it…

Although later I would notice I had inched closer. I was leaning more against the bench then the wall then, slowly drawing closer and closer to him. An unconscious decision I would wonder about later but there was something else that had caught my immediate attention then.

My phone hadn’t gone off yet.

I knew it hadn’t, the ringtone would have cut through the music and woken me up automatically if it had. I had the most annoying one I could think of for Stu after all. I started to go through another pocket as I quickly calculated in my head, it had been more or less fully charged when I turned it on for the music so... I must have been out for a few hours.

Instantly, I wanted to smack myself. Did I seriously leave myself venerable for that long in a room with a demon? What the hell was wrong with me?! Just when I was about to bang my head on the nearby bench when the demon in the room spoke up.

“Oh, I did after a bit,” Langdon told me, getting my attention once more. “In particular I examined the trap you have me in.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head at him, doubtful.

“Cause you know all about Devil’s Traps now do you?” I said snidely as I tore through another pocket.

Not there either. Don’t tell me I left it at the hotel.I felt a jolt of panic that I tried to keep hidden. Crap...

“A bit here and there. I know there are different kinds, of course, befitting the demons of different cultures, religions, and pantheons,” I could hear him drawl on as I searched, cursing the gods if I did leave it behind.

There it is! I thought. Finding the small white battery case next to a spare bullet clip. I put the clip in one of my front pockets (just in case) and I was just about to pop off the back of my cell and change the battery when he continued.

“But I know far more about sigils, seals and.. Keys. Certainly more than most of my kind anyway,” Langdon piped up suddenly.  

I froze, catching his words right away.

How did he-?

...Oh hell.

I looked over to him to see him turn to me fully, a cat-that-caught-the-canary smile forming on his face for a minute before he spoke.

“A normal Devil’s Trap wouldn’t be able to fully... Contain me,” He said confidently. “But the Key of Solomon is something else entirely. This one in particular has been used to bind and control both the demonic and the dead after all. Not many know of it of course only religious scholars or…”

That smile that crossed his face suddenly became a hint darker and that made my blood run cold.

“Those who practice and study magic.”

Oh shit...

“Is that so?” I said trying to sound nonchalant, putting the phone and battery in my jacket pocket, slowly reaching for the gun on my hip.

The bullets in that clip were all carved with the standard Devil’s Trap, but they would do in a pinch; plus “can’t full contain him” my foot, I’d like to see him dig a few of those out of his ass.

“Very smart of you to wait until we were both here alone to finish the Key. I would have notice it earlier during the Black Mass. So tell me, my dear Witch,” He almost spat out that last word as though it were a curse. “Did someone from your Coven tell you to use the Key or was it just a lucky guess on your part?”

The gun on my hip felt cold in my hand but it’s weight was comforting all the same. But I didn’t draw it out. Not yet.

“Just thought a son of a bitch that was as sick and as evil as you deserved a bit of heavy duty work.” I told him cooly.

It was a lie… I had called Bobby Singer a few times, and even made a slew of quick calls home to get the lettering and such of the trap right (Thank gods for Zoe, seriously). I had a feeling he would know I was bullshitting but I was hoping to distract him from the question. I wasn’t going to tell him I had help from the Coven, no matter what.

I had left for a reason. If he thought I was going to spill the beans on my family, my sisters, he had another thing coming

“Oh did you now?” He lilted in mock interest, eyebrow raised as if to ask me to go on.

I could tell he was ready to call me on the fib, but I was ready with the slight curve I would need to throw him off. Or so I hoped…

Demon’s loved to brag after all...

The sick bastards.

“Most monsters kill for food, or because someone pissed them off.” I told him icily. “It takes a special kind of sick son of a bitch though carve up and eat a few kids like you did, just for kicks.”

It looked like it worked, that caught his attention. But what happened next kind of threw me off as well.

As opposed to that stupid disgusting prideful look I had expected, the superiority faded away from his face and he turned to me fully, he looked…

Was he... Stunned?

“Pardon?” Langdon asked, voice suddenly so very different.

Did he sound surprised?

Huh? I wasn’t sure but he had lost that mocking edge entirely. But that wasn’t all, he had a look on his face, like I had told him the sky was anything other then blue. That careful cool of his shaken a bit, not a lot but enough to make him look something a bit more touchable then the high and mighty creature he seemed to portray himself as.

Instantly, I wanted to throw something very sharp and heavy at him.

Was he fucking with me? Did he think he could just pretend it didn’t happen?! All those corpses he left behind. Even normal people were taking notice! They were saying it was the work of a serial killer but those who really knew.. Knew better. He was one hell of an actor. I’ll give him that.  But it didn’t stop me from seeing red.

Getting caught by my own curveball, yeah, later I would appreciate the irony.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” I snapped at him heatedly, unable to stop myself now. “Margaret was eight and Jason was barely three! You remember them now?! They lived just past fucking Lawrence, and you butchered them! Innocent children, you sick fuck! I can even give you the goddamn list of the others!”

I remember the police reports, I remember speaking to the coroners over small mutilated bodies that almost made me vomit.

This demon...

He always started from their feet, their wrists bound, their little voices screaming...

There was a fucking trail of these kind of bodies to this fucking place as he kept it up, learning more…

Perfecting it.

All of which I would be sure to add onto my list of nightmares the legions of hell spewed out on a daily basis. I could hear the names of the lost echoing in my mind like a sick, pitchy, off key song you couldn’t get out of your head. Enraged and shaking, I yanked the gun out of my hip holster, clicking off the safety aiming it right at him. Muzzled pointed right at his forehead, not seeing anything but the monster in front of me I couldn’t see the man he possessed… Not any more.

“I tracked the demon who did this, here to this shithole town. There’s only been one demon I’ve come across, three guesses but you only need one on who that is, asshole.”

Suddenly a dark look crossed the demon’s face.

“I see now,” He said evenly suddenly glancing over to the door that led to the back room before he spoke once more.

“Of course that disgusting insolent coward would try to appeal to me for help... He was running from you.”

Wait...

What?

Did he just…?

“Shame,” Langdon continued. “If I had known that, things would have been interesting earlier.”

Interesting? What the fuck?

“What the hell are you going on about?” I finally said, not quite understanding as my brain was whirring like a hamster in a wheel.

Was he saying-?

“Our little friend in the back room.” He said suddenly, I could swear I heard a low growl in his voice at the word ‘friend’. “He had deviated from the plan and then had the gall to come to me for help thinking he could appeal to my hatred for... Your kind. Unfortunately, he underestimated the weight of his own crimes in my eyes. I felt a suitable punishment was needed. So I let the Satanist’s use him for their Mass to Lucifer earlier. Suppose that Black Mass satisfied more then just one hunger...”

He glanced over to me, the ghost of that terrible smile crossing his face, eyes shining as though he were talking about… I don’t know, lollipops and rainbows or something other then cutting out the heart of a demon.

For some reason that was more terrifying than the normal demonic cole-black eyes.

“I carved the binding link in his arm myself. He was trapped in - what do you hunters call them so eloquently? Ah yes.- His ‘meatsuit’ when they carved out his heart so he would feel every bit of it. No harm no foul, the meatsuit was already dead after all, he had made sure of that.”

Langdon tilted his head as he examined me once more before he spoke. I suddenly felt my throat tighten as it was like I was under a microscope with how his too blue eyes looked at me. Like he wasn’t just looking at me but…

Into me, through me.

“If I had known that you were here for him I would have insisted we kept him alive,” He said. “It would have been fascinating to see what you would have done in that circumstance.”

I lowered my gun slightly. Was he serious?

“And I’m supposed to believe this bullshit... Why?” I asked him.

The demon shrugged, I had the feeling he frankly didn’t care if I believed him or not.

“You can call it bullshit all you’d like but know this, Hunter: I’ve never been a fan of getting my hand’s dirty, Learned that from my father. Besides...”

A slow wicked smile crossed Langdon’s face, it was terrifying and oddly sexy in a way that made me wonder, what the hell was wrong with me today?  

“... Always more fun to entice men and women to dirty deeds. I’m surprised though, I had through you and your friend understood that from visiting my sleepy -as you put it- shithole town above.”

I raised an eyebrow, “sleepy” was most certainly not what I would describe this particular town we were in. Between a growing number of drug busts, and number of illegal brothels, and the fact it was slowly creeping up the list for murder capital… Yeah I think “shithole” was probably a bit more accurate. Although that wasn’t all. In the course of barely few months this place had gone from barely being a blip on the GPS to being almost infamous for crazy shit, almost on par with Las- Freaking-Vegas. It was like… Something was drawing it all here. And that’s disregarding the supernatural signs that had cropped up in the area.

There had been a few freak storms of stones (yeah, it rained stones), a few strang bird patterns. But the big one was an odd number of snakes that had appeared. Some which weren’t native to the area much less the US. Seriously, how the hell do the locals explain a freaking Egyptian Asp in someone’s backyard? Muggles are weird yo.

In fact that was why Stu had been here in the first place when I ran into him. He had suspected some crazy stuff was the cause, but...

“So the whole thing with town, that’s all you?” I asked.

That smile was still on his face as he shrugged so nonchalantly you’d think we were talking about something other than an entire town going dark side.

“I can’t claim credit for all of it.” He said sitting up straighter as he addressed me. “The ideas were already in their simple little heads. I just merely made a suggestion to the owner of a bar or two and… applied the right pressure and stimulus and the God fearing folks of this little tiny town came to sin in droves like moths to the flame. However that discredits your theory that I was ripping children apart in Lawrence though I suppose, doesn’t it?”

I paused, trying to think, my finger still on the trigger of the gun. He could be lying. Demon’s did that but… What he was saying made a hella ton of sense.

Whispers of this place had cropped up long before Lawrence. Hell, we had even heard stories of a few hunters disappearing near here too. But I hadn’t paid them any mind as most hunters took what pleasure they could when they could. Never knew when something would gut you after all.

Besides, that stiff in the back room... He did smell a lot of sulfur, a lot more than normal demonic victims did. I had been enough cases to know demons only left traces of it on their victims, they didn’t reek of it. I hadn’t heard of a binding link before but, I wouldn’t put it past a hellspawn to come up with some way to do it. Trapping a fellow demon in their meatsuit while they tortured them… Yeah I could buy it. Plus, Stu had said something had turned this place into a paranormal magnet, it’s another reason why everyone was so ramped up.  

Right pressure and stimulus.

Oh yeah, demonic energy would do just that. So maybe he wasn’t bullshitting me.

Well… Shit.

I lowered the gun, clicking the safety back on and cursing venomously under my breath. As much as I hated to admit it (and, boy, did I hate to admit it), he had a point.

Plus... Tracking Langdon had felt different. In fact, all the way up until he invited me here, it had felt like he was… Curious. Like a kid poking a passed out animal with a stick, a bit different from the whole come and get me crap the demon from Lawrence had laid at my feet with the last body that was found. I had thought it was strange but just chalked it up to the demon trying to throw me for a loop like it had a few times before.

But if it was true then… I had trapped a very different demon.

So I was pretty much shooting blind here.  Stuck in a underground room with a monster who had almost convinced an entire town to give in to it’s darker impulses. Yeah it was not something I liked. Not at all.

I reached for my phone in my pocket once more, about to change the battery in a hurry to maybe make another call to Stu. I was really hoping he was on his way right about then when suddenly Langdon broke the silence between us.

"Have there been others?" He asked suddenly, lowly. I raised an eyebrow turning back to him. He wasn’t giving me that, haughty look as he had before, rather there was something oddly even in his gaze. It’s strange but… I had a feeling I wasn’t talking to the pompous demon he had been a few moments ago. "Others?" I said questioningly with an eyebrow raised, trying to understand what he was meaning. "Other demons like him-.” -He motioned curtly with nodd of the head to the backroom with the body “-On your hunts.” I stared at him as it took me a bit for his question to sink in. If you want to know the god’s honest truth, I couldn’t believe it at first. Was he really asking if I had encountered demonic kinds of demons? You know, the ones that you had only dreamed of in your nightmares.

For fucking real?

And when it finally did hit me what he was asking I couldn't help but laugh loudly, sarcastically. He had to be joking right? "Wait wait wait! Are you trying to tell me not all you demons are like him?" I snorted.

He gave me a dirty look and I couldn’t help but crack up. Was he really giving me a “Not All Demons” speech here? Seriously!? And here I thought his kind didn’t have a sense of humor! The lights flickered which cut my laughter off. That should have been my warning to tread cautious before he spoke once more. "Answer my fucking question, Hunter," He demanded, his silky voice icy cold, a dangerous edge in his tone that reminded me what he was. I could see barely restrained anger on his face and any humor I had dropped as I leaned forward. So the pretty boy demon wanted the truth? Fine then… “You want to know? Okay…  You’re worse than the fucking monsters I’ve dealt with. I've seen demons like you tear people apart for just existing.” I said cooly.

“Most monsters do it because they are hungry or just to survive in this damn world. But you demons… I’ve seen you kind kill for kicks either cause you could or get your sadistic rocks off. Plane crashes, subway accidents, mass shooters all of it is just a day in the office for you isn’t it? But no… You all aren’t satisfied with that shit are you? You think we haven’t noticed all the disappearances? The deals cashed in early? The murders? The rapes? As far as I’m concerned you can stick your ‘Not All Demons’ bullshit so far up your ass you can choke on it cause as far as I can tell all you fucking demons are the same twisted-.” I stopped my rant as… I felt it then.

The air was... Charged. Like the atmosphere before a terrible storm ready to finally crack the sky itself apart. In fact when I noticed, it didn’t stop rather it was only getting heavier and hotter. Until was so stifling that I was starting to have trouble breathing. I could feel sweat started to bead on my skin like I was sitting out on the blacktop in summer. The candles lit around the room were flickering and fluttering in the still air in a way that made my hunter instincts kick into overdrive. The scent of sulfur was becoming stronger then I had ever smelled it before, it was like sitting in the middle of a mine or some biblical brimstone scene. I looked over to where Langdon sat once more and...

I admit I gasped and stumbled back almost into the bench behind me.  I had to blink, had to convince myself that was I was seeing was real as it was like reality I knew was bending and cracking apart before my eyes. With each flicker of the the light around us it was like Langdon’s appearance seemed to... Flicker with it.

He was starting to look like something other.

I couldn’t really see it very well from the distance but... I could tell his skin was changing from sun kissed gold to something pale. No he was even more pallid than a corpse. In fact I’d dare say his skin was… Stark lifeless white with veins like cracks of gray or black on his skin like it barely kept the darkness back. But that wasn’t all each time his appearance flickered to this… This form he seemed to pull all light out of the darkness and leaving nothing but an empty void devoid of all life, color and form. A void that was only matched  those familiar fathomless demonic black eyes he bore.  He looked something beyond human, something...Very much not from this realm. In fact he looked…

Like a damn demon, not one in hiding. Holy shit.

Was this just peek at what of the real demon inside?! But… All of the lore and stories from other hunters said that only those marked for hell could see it’s minions through the meatsuits. I sure as hell hadn’t made any deals! So how could I-? Wait…

Was he doing that?

Could he be...

Altering his physical form?!

No… My mind and body all but shuddered at the thought. That’s impossible. Demon’s take the bodies of humans because they can’t take their true forms up here. They couldn’t alter their meatsuits to look like their real demonic selves save for the black eyes because it wasn’t their body in the first place!

That was the deal! It couldn’t be done!

But what I was seeing.  It shouldn’t been happening...  

Unless…  

Unless he wasn’t in a meatsuit at all.

If so that meant that body he was in right now was…

No fucking way.

The hair on the back of my neck was standing up, my blood was starting to run cold, I started shaking despite the heat around me. I could taste my heart beating in the back of my throat along with the bile as the sulfur made my stomach turn.

I grabbed the gun in my holster, when it hit me. He said a normal Devil's Trap wouldn't work on him. God, what if he wasn't just bullshitting me? After seeing… this, I think I was a little more inclined to believe him.

This demon wasn’t like the normal black eyes level of demon…

This was almost like… Like…

… A pair of sickly golden yellow eyes shining in the dark as they looked at me seemingly through space and time itself, a terrible grin on the demon’s as they held a bleeding wrist above the small rosey mouth of a tiny baby who was wearing a very very familiar pink onesie...

… My mind was screaming, no no no no no! As I willed myself to raise the gun. Yet... I was frozen. I… I couldn’t move, I could barely breathe, I was starting to shake uncontrollably. I wasn’t sure I could hold the gun steady. And then…   

Abruptly, as if he just realized what was happening Langdon let out a long low exhale. It was... As though he were trying to get a reign on himself. As he did the temperature slowly, carefully started to cool and steady itself to normal. The heaviness in the air... Faded, the flickering stopped, and he once again looked like the handsome man he was before. But I had a gut feeling that appearances were deceiving, and in his case- terribly so. "My apologies," he said suddenly looking up, cerulean eyes (as they were once again) finally meeting mine, the ghost of a wry almost sheepish smile on his face. "It appears my temper almost got the better of me." I had to think a bit before I spoke, the air between us was pregnant with shock and horror. I could feel the echo of tremors still in my body yet they were starting to calm down as I was trying to find the words. My brain still trying to comprehend the creature I had seen just a few mere moments ago, wearing a very very similar face to him yet so very very different. Maybe that was why I decided need to dance around the subject a little as I was trying to understand what I had seen had been real and not some fever dream. "That happened cause you were pissed?" I was able to breathe.

He gave something akin to a shrug before he spoke. "It can, on occasion," Langdon admitted. “I have done far worse when I was angry in the past. You’re lucky I want you alive, Hunter. You wouldn’t have been the first I burst into flame with my temper if I hadn’t.” I snorted but I didn't take my grip off the gun. Although he said that so offhandedly… I had a feeling he wasn’t entirely joking.

Memo to self: Let’s not piss off the demon anymore then we already have cause that scared the hell out of me. Speaking of…

Just what the hell kind of demon was he? "I see you are on your guard once more." Langdon noted, he glanced telling at the gun still in my hand before he spoke once more. “I am sorry if I alarmed you but I do appreciate you telling me all the same…”

He let out a tired sigh that surprised me as it seemed… rather honest and rather real for a fake, lying, cold blooded demon.

“The other demon’s… They would have me believing otherwise, perhaps I should have known better then to fully trust them. I had been warned that some didn’t have the true faith in the plan. We are supposed to be better than your kind but… It appears some of us are worse than the mindless monsters of this world. As much as I hate to say it, you are in the right in hunting those demons.”

I admit-I half thought he was mocking me and was half tempted to raise the gun and point it at him for all the good it would do me but…  Something kept it at my side. Maybe because he seemed to mean it when he said sorry? I don’t know...

This demon was already proving to be… Odd compared to the others. And that was... Well… One part curious and one part troubling.  I wasn’t sure still that he wasn’t being polite because he was trying to earn my trust before gutting me or if it was because he actually was this way. It was the flip of the coin to be honest although I bet it was more heads than tails. Yet… I found myself even more drawn to him.

The pull was strong enough that I found myself taking a few more steps closer to the trap. Maybe to see if I could see him do that again or to see if maybe there was some track of that pale face on him. Either way he terrified me… And I was always oddly fascinated with things that terrified me, even as a kid. "Could you blame me?" I asked him, finally sitting down once more on the marble floor, 5 feet before him in the trap.

"Before this the craziest thing I had seen was when I found a demon with yellow eyes. I thought they were high tier but this… Well, they didn't do whatever it was you did to their face." He chuckled, it was a rich sound that filled the chamber and… It was strange but I found myself rather liking it when it wasn’t terribly sarcastic. "No other demon will, besides me." Langdon said to me almost proudly I rolled my eyes. Pompous much?

“Right," I said sarcastically. "Like I haven't heard that line before."

But I was sure to note that in my mind right away. Cause if he wasn’t a normal black eyed demon then… What was he exactly? I would need to grab as much information on him as I could. Maybe play an angle and see what he would spill? We were stuck here after all.

It was worth a try. Langdon meanwhile flashed a grin that seemed to light up his face. It was strange but I would have almost called it charming if it weren’t for the fact I could see just a trace of darkness in those eyes, like storm clouds in a otherwise clear sky.

“I can assure you it’s true, just as I can assure you no harm when I’m trapped here. Burning your exorcism and the cave in is the most I will want to do while being bound to the Key. Anything else would be rather petty and lead me nowhere in the long run anyway.”

“And if you get out?” I asked him. “What will you do then?”

“Well…” He started, that smile still on his face. “... Possibly a little maiming. You did trap me after all and your terrible Latin burned my ears. I cannot let that go unpunished after all, mild annoyance or no.”

I rolled my eyes at the insult of my Latin (I’m working on it, okay!). Figures, you can take the demon out of hell but you can’t take the demonic out of the demon. I thought before he continued on and I admit… He surprised me for the second time.

“But -I confess- I find you... Intriguing, perhaps a little more so than when I took you here. A Witch turned hunter is curious enough, but not many humans alive can say they have Azazel.”

Intriguing? Me? My thoughts spun before I could stop them

And...Azazel?  The name didn’t ring any bells. Who the hell was that?

“Uhh pardon but, who?” I asked confused, really trying not to get caught on the fact he found me… Intriguing (He’s a demon dammit! Don’t you start feeling all fluttery, you weirdo!).

I released hold of the gun in my holster but kept my hand close by if I need it.

“Oh the ‘yellow eyed demon’ you mentioned. If it is who I suspect, his name was Azazel.” He told me.

I rolled the name around in my head a bit. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I doubt demon’s like to be named “Mark” or something. But… Wasn’t Azazel mentioned in a demonology book I had picked up sometime ago? I’d have to look it up later.

“That was his name?” I asked him incredulously, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

Langdon gave a bit of a chuckle.

“He can’t really be called ‘Yellow Eyes’ to his peers, you know.” He told me knowingly.

Too knowingly, so much I almost gasped. No freaking way.

“Wait… Did you know him?” I asked, leaning forward interested.

Have to admit I was disappointed when Langdon shook his head.

“Only from correspondence.” He told me. “He was of the rank that ruled over the demon’s in hell and on earth. And he ruled with an iron fist, so of course I’ve heard of him. You’ll be hard pressed to find a demon who doesn’t.”

Disappointment bit me, hard. I shouldn’t have hoped. Of course my luck wouldn’t let me find the answers I had been running for after a bit of a fuck up like this. But still…

This was new info.

Yellow Eyes was one of the higher ranks…He had led them. No wonder we had been dealing with crazier demons then usual, My thoughts spun.

A part of me instantly thought of two brothers I had met before I started. Who had had told me they were hunting that same Yellow Eyed demon sometime back. I didn’t really remember their names for the life of me but the tall one had urged me to stay at the Coven… But then Hell Gate had been kicked open by someone who was... Like me. And I saw other things when looking in the black mirror…

Things that I made me know I couldn’t stay any at the Coven longer…

As much as it hurt…

I couldn’t.

I wondered if I could find the number the brothers had left. I didn’t know if they were alive as I had heard rumors… But if they were and they didn’t know their quarry had been a high rank freaking demon, plus if the younger of the two was… Like me and didn’t know the truth of what the demon had done to him… Well we may have a slew of problems here soon enough if we didn’t already. But before I could dwell on this any longer, Langdon interrupted my thoughts once more.

“However that begs the question: how did you know him?” He asked.

My eyes snapped up to Langdon’s face. There wasn’t that mocking look or that superior look on his features, he seemed genuinely curious when he tilted his head to look at me.  Like he was actually interested.

I wondered if it was maybe because he was utterly bored or because he hadn’t been stuck in a room with a hunter like this. Then again… I had to admit if it was the latter I couldn’t blame him. I was curious about him as well even though I shouldn’t be. He was already showing to be a strange exception to the rule and I wanted to know why that was.

Maybe he saw the same in me?

Maybe...

I bit my bottom lip, thinking about what to say. I was stuck in a room with him for who knows for how long now and who knew how much longer I would be stuck here. May as well see if I could get more information, more answers. He thus far had been the most informative than most I had spoken to (or interrogated I suppose). And besides…

I needed to play this angle, lemonade out of lemons or something right? Or that’s what I was telling myself then. But what could I say to maybe move this along?

There was only one thought that ran through my head and- as I was want to do on occasion- that thought, of course, ran right out of my stupid mouth.

“Well, a man with yellow eyes killed my family when I was one so you could say I might know him a little. Unless there’s another yellow eyed bastard running around,” I told Langdon bluntly.

Okay…

Maybe not like that but… Okay, I thought with a mental smack. Why the hell had I told him that? It was true of course but… still. He didn’t need to know that!  

I was bracing for the usual demonic bullshit when I swear I had heard someone’s breath catch. I glanced over to see Langdon’s eyes drop to the floor,  a look on his face like he was just reeling after getting smacked. I could see his thought racing through the windows of too blue eyes.

“I see,” He said, suddenly. “I didn’t know he had… That you... I apologize for that.”

His face was now unreadable, yet there was a glint in his cerulean eyes that left me with the feeling that he was anything but emotionless at this. In fact I had a feeling in my gut he… Somehow understood. It was strange, I think he actually meant it once again (two in a row for a demon… Shocking right?). But, he looked almost awkward, as if he couldn’t meet my eyes then as he looked to the plush red carpet he sat on.

“Don‘t be,” I told him with a shrug. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. It was... So long ago. Besides, I was lucky enough to be adopted by my godmother. Growing up sucked- sure- but it wasn’t too bad all things considering.”

I didn’t dare tell him my godmother was currently in the Coven of New Orleans, even though I hadn’t spoken to her since… Since the day I crossed the threshold of the Academy. No need to tell the demon any more than I already had. Besides… I needed to protect my family, even though most of them probably hated me being here.

If they didn’t hate my guts in general.

“That makes you one of the lucky ones then,” Langdon said suddenly almost making me jump. “Not many can claim that after... Losing a family.”

It was his tone that had me looking to him that strange… Knowing he had that caught me off guard. I guess I turned expecting to see a lie all over his face but instead there was a strange look on his features that startled me.

It was as though he were thinking of something else. Something terrible but long ago and far away,  a memory that had come from the darkness of the past to stab him in the back once more.  I almost lost my breath at how utterly... Human he looked then. Hell, maybe even more human than most humans I had dealt with. Most demons wouldn’t dare look like that in front of anyone. It was a weakness, or so I had learned while hunting them. But what was even stranger was…

I could feel my heart ache for him.

“Speaking from experience?” I asked softly, my voice probably a bit more gentle then advised but I didn’t have the heart to kick myself for it.

He looked up to give gave a empty and blank expression that spoke as many volumes as it hid so much. I wondered what his history was. A history I had a feeling he was kicking himself for just hinting at as much as I was kicking myself for saying what little I had said.

Was he one of those who sold their soul as a human and became a demon? Did he…  Still remember being human? Was that why he was able to change his appearance because it was his own body before?

No, didn’t make sense. Why hadn’t other demons done the same? Besides I think you had to be a certain rank to leave hell and by the time most did their bodies were long rotten, but I couldn’t say that for sure. My demonology was spotty at best save for the whole warding and exorcism part and the best books were days away. I wouldn’t probably have to hit them as I still had more questions than answers

“... Maybe,” Langdon answered with a shrug, his tone may show he didn’t care and I could visibly see his walls start to go back up, but for a brief moment his eyes…

There was a deep pain there,  a deep hurt in his too blue eyes that I could understand. That I could sympathize with. Yeah a hunter with “Sympathy for the Devil”… Irony of ironies. But it didn’t make it any less true.

“I’m sorry,” I told him gently, meaning it so honestly that it startled me…

And yet I meant it with everything I was.

Langdon looked to at me in surprise, eyes not moving from mine suddenly. I felt something strange then… A strange feeling like I was being x-rayed in some way or another. But… I must have imagined it. But I could see he was looking at me carefully. Like he was examining me for any kind of bullshit, any trace of a lie. It left me with the feeling he didn’t really experience things like sympathy often. If my guess was right, demons must not reach out like this to each other with their own kind.

It was... Kinda sad if you thought of it. He must have always been alone.

Suddenly Langdon tore his eyes away with a sigh, long and tired.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” He said dismissively, yet there was something in the way he wouldn’t look me in the eyes now.

I had a feeling he was uncomfortable, he wasn’t the only one either. I was… Actually starting to like him.

Not good, not good at all. Should probably draw the line in the sand… Anymore and it could be a problem for us both. As much as I didn’t want to do it- something told me that he didn’t experience kindness often, before or after becoming a demon was hard to say- It didn’t change the fact he was a demon and I was a hunter. I would have to try to exorcise him if Stu showed up. And then… If it worked, if he didn’t put on that binding link or whatever…

He would be gone.

I wasn’t sure why that stung a little but it did.

No, it didn’t just sting… I hated it, more than I really wanted to get into.

Yeah, better to stop this now before something stupid happened.

“Whatever you say, Black Eyed Asshole,” I relented with a sigh, I had meant that to be a bit more forceful but I could hear that fond edge that I wouldn’t let myself even begin to examine.

Fuck.

I could swear I saw the corners of the demon’s mouth draw up at that. I wonder if he had caught that poorly hidden edge. Or if maybe he was relieved that I was drawing the line again, thinking the same thing or if it was just me.

It probably was just me…

Lord I hope it was.

It would be easy to go back to before then. Didn’t need two idiots in this situation.

“Still? Just because we are on different sides doesn’t mean we can’t be civil while we’re trapped, Hunter,” Langdon pointed out, yet there wasn’t a snide edge in his tone there.

Rather, He almost sounded almost teasing.

Seriously, your supposed to hate my guts. Remember?

“Did you say you were going to maim me if you got out first?” I pointed out with a smirk.

He gave me a smirk in return.

“... I may have.”  Langdon admitted.

“Guess it’s just in my nature but can’t really be civil to people who want to maim me and not in a fun way.”

Fun way? I thought to myself, What the hell is going on with my mouth?

“I suppose I should count myself lucky you have been polite for as long as you have then.”

I shrugged

“I am curious, did you ever discover why Azazel was at your home all those years ago?” Langdon asked me.

I thought a bit before I answered, leaning back.

“Think either my folks made a deal and he came for payment and one neglected to tell the other,” I said flatly. “Can’t say I know other then that.”

I glanced over to him.

“Am I warm?” I asked

“Perhaps. He had a plan he was enacting involving the children of men.” Langdon told me.

This I knew. This I knew all too well.

“You mean the Hell Gate and the Demonic Army?” I asked him.

Langdon raised an eyebrow but nodded in agreement before he spoke.

“Not just that, they were just a small parts of the grand plan.” He told me.

Now...

This I didn’t know.

“Grand plan?” I repeated, leaning forward once more.

Langdon nodded, I could swear I saw the smirk growing.

I was just about to ask what he met when suddenly he held his hand up.

“That’s classified,” He told me cooly, that regal demon making a come back from before.

I must have given him a look as he all but chuckled before he continued.

“It would spoil the surprise. Although... Those idiots you spoke of earlier may be doing that already.”

I raised an eyebrow as he all but spat out the word idiots. He was pretty pissed at the demonic demons wasn’t he? Huh... Wasn’t sure what to think of this. But, yep, I was really starting to like him. As stupid as it was for doing so.

“What are demons suppose to do then?” I asked him flatly. “You keep saying they are supposed to be doing something for this grand plan. You’d think they were supposed to be… I don’t know, demonic.”

He turned to me, I could see the annoyance in every line of his face. But I don’t think it was directed at me this time.

“There are various form of demonic energy as I’m sure you know,” He told me with a look. “Most must be given the expressed permission of hell to use this earth as … The garden for their carnal pleasures. And even those who do so serve a purpose, chaotic as it maybe, it’s a purpose nonetheless.”

I could see his ringed fingers clenched into fists when he spoke

“The leaders of hell don’t care much for unpredictability, unless they are responsible.” He said.

Hmm… You sure do seem to know a bit about them. I thought but I kept that thought to myself.

“So, that’s going to spoil the surprise somehow? That’s what got you pissed?” I asked.

“Something like that.” Langdon replied. “It also answers the question I’ve have of what I need to do next for the plan to come to fruition...”

For some reason that didn’t sound all that encouraging. I was half tempted to ask but I had a feeling that he wouldn’t answer anyway.

“Either way, that explains why you caught my attention when I first saw you.” Langdon said suddenly.

That was so out of left field I wasn’t sure if he knew he had said that.

“What do you mean?” I asked

For a moment I could see a odd look cross his face. I could see him thinking carefully about what he was going to say next.

“Let’s just simply say I have a talent, a certain ‘night vision of the soul’. I can see into the dark places that most try to keep hidden It’s a gift that has served me well. But you… There’s something about you in particular caught my eye and I wanted to understand what it was.”

Huh? Not sure what to make of that. I thought but I filed the information away for later.

“So… What? Do I have a beacon that only animals and pain in the ass demon’s can hear and I not know of it or are you just special?” I asked.

Now this time I could definitely see he was trying hard not to smile. Not sure why I felt a little disappointed for a minute that he didn’t.

“To a point, perhaps,” He confessed. “Only certain demon’s will sense it. However most of the rabble won’t.”

“There a reason for that one?”

“...Quite possibly.”

“But you’re not going to tell me are you? Has something to with the ‘Grand Plan’ anyway?” I said with air quotes around two certain words.

“And here they say you hunter’s aren’t an intelligent lot.” Langdon said with the shadow of a smirk.

I shook my head, I could feel a slight smile on my own face that I was careful to hide. Or I at least tried to when a thought came to me.

“But don’t I screw over that over anyway?” I asked.

Langdon looked at me curiously.

“Why do you say that?” He asked.

He was going to make me say it wasn’t he? Say what I knew. What little I knew.

I took a deep breath, about to admit something I didn’t want to but… He maybe the best lead I had. A simple question that- I confess- I may have also left home to find answers for.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around with me, Langdon, I know.” I told him. “I saw it. You all had a Battle Royale for all of us freaks with demon blood so you could find the one that was supposed to survive and lead the demon army.”

I could swear I heard his breath catch, shock written all over his features. This time I didn’t hide my smile, although it was probably pretty forced.

“You all seemed to forget about there was a witch with the demon blood too,” I told him. “I may have been with the Coven when it happened but… You can’t tell me a few Aura Shields hid me from you guys entirely.”

Don’t think I’m that stupid, I thought. Meanwhile, Langdon was looking at me like I was something else.

“I see you have quite the a talent yourself if you saw that.” Langdon reasoned. “Isn’t the Sight or Divination one of the Seven Wonders?”

“Divination is yes. But I wouldn’t call it that,” I shrugged. “I never see anything good much less a wonder but... Don’t change the subject, Langdon.”

The demon sighed long and low. I had a feeling it was taking a bit for him to say what he was about to say. I would wonder why later.

“I know very little as to why they spared you from the Battle Royale. Perhaps you were already present where they needed you to be for the time?”

That… Wasn’t reassuring. What were they doing that they were keeping in the wings for another day?

And those hunting brothers urged me to stay at the Coven? Should I have told those brothers of what I saw in the black mirror? Did they already know? Wait… The young brother. He was like me, a boy with demon blood…  

Oh God, were they okay?!

These thoughts ran through my head dizzily, I had to push them aside for now. I would try to answer them when I got out of here. When... I wasn’t going to let myself think of an if in this situation.

“You really believe that?” I asked him.

“Truthfully, I’m not entirely sure myself. Azazel… Made a point to not tell me all of the particulars of that part of the plan in our correspondence. In case they could be overheard.” Langdon told me rather honestly. “There were rumors of a ‘Wayward Daughter’ of course, but I had thought them nothing but just rumors… Until now that is.”

Wayward Daughter? I thought. Hmm… I kind of liked the ring of that. Wonder if I could embroider that on the back of a jacket or something.

“So demon’s have a rumor mill?” I said giving him a surprised look. “Aren’t you supposed to be better than us or something?”

“May I remind you of your kind has racked up a body count in the past century that surprised even us?” Langdon said giving me a look.  

I winced.

“Touche,” I replied.

Langdon shook his head a ghost of a smile, a real smile not a smug smirk or grin,  on his face. I found myself wondering if he would look even more stunning if he smiled but I only let myself think it for a brief moment. Just a moment.

“I am curious though,” Langdon said suddenly.

“Oh?” I said. “What now?”

“How much you have seen of our plan in your black mirror.”

I shook my head.

“Obviously not enough if I’m asking you,” I pointed out.

“Indeed, you’re here after all. As opposed to being with them.”

Them?

Suddenly I felt a wave of cold dread at those words sunk in. Was he going to ask me about the Coven? Oh no.

“What do you mean?” I asked him.

I was trying to keep my voice steady, even. But I could feel my throat tightening in the face of those fathomless blue eyes. Langdon meanwhile didn’t seem to notice. At least not yet as he looked to me, curiosity written all over his features.

“Is that not the reason you are here?” He asked, with a raised eyebrow. “You want answers, you want to know why Azazel chose you. Why you were singled out with a different role to play.”

Before I could answer he suddenly spoke, a look on his face like he had just noticed something.

“No… It’s not just that isn’t it?”

Out of nowhere, I was frozen. Unable to move under the laser focus of his too cerulean eyes. This time I knew it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me. He was… He was doing something. Wasn’t he? But what-?

Suddenly something he had said came back to me.

“Let’s just simply say I have a talent, a certain ‘night vision of the soul’. I can see into the dark places that most try to keep hidden…”

Did that mean…?

Oh…

Oh shit.

I wanted to yell at him then, to jerk away from the terrible feeling like my insides were suddenly being scrutinized. At the same time I wanted to rung into the trap and beat the holy hell out of him for looking into something I didn’t want anyone to look into. I was alone for a reason damn it! But… I couldn’t move. Fear or maybe something else made it so I could barely breathe.

All I could do was sit there as a demon was examining my damn soul.

No… No please don’t!

“It’s more than that.” Langdon breathed as I could feel him start to see what I didn’t want anyone seeing. “It’s one of the reasons you are here but it’s not the true reason you are here. Not the only reason you do this…”

Stop! I screamed in my head as if he could hear me. Shut up and stop! I’ll… I’ll let you out just please!

DON’T!

“You’re here for them.” Langdon breathed, leaning forward as he seemed to see something else. Something that I couldn’t see as opposed to feel.

Stop...I could hear my heartbeat before he spoke once more.

“The pain you feel, the loneliness in your soul... You think doing this will keep them safe. That if you stay away you will protect them and you don’t care if they hate you for it. In fact… It makes things easier for you doesn’t it? Because… The truth is you fear what you are. What you can do. What the demon blood has helped you to do… The power you have with it. The power unlike any witch has ever had… Save for one that only comes with each new generation. Hunting and being alone is your penance… Your absolution...”

Suddenly the strange lazer focus, the feeling of being examined from the inside out was gone but I was still frozen. I still could barely breathe as I felt my heart pound. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I didn’t dare.

Just like that a demon had cut my soul open and dissected it it. Peeling back layer upon layer of armor I had built to protect myself.

I pretended I was okay with this life. That this was a choice I had made.

… But it wasn’t.

Not really.

No one really chooses to be a hunter. That’s what the hunting brother’s had told me. No, this life chooses you.

And what other life could I live with this… This thing!?

I had thought my growing powers to be a gift, that with our Supreme lost or dead, that maybe... In fact when we were taking the test of Seven Wonders I had thought…

Maybe it was supposed to be me?

I wasn’t much of a leader but I had those around me. I could try to do the things that they wanted. Maybe save the Coven from the darkness. After all… I had convinced Bobby Singer that we witches weren’t the monsters that they all hunted hadn’t I? But then when I went to perform Concilium… I had felt it.

I had pretended I was having trouble with it but that wasn’t true. I could do it but… It had wanted more more than just Madison. It had wanted Kyle, it had wanted Zoe. It had wanted Queenie, Myrtle, Misty…

It had wanted Cordelia.  

And the urge it had. What it wanted me to make them do to themselves… To each other...

This wasn’t the power of the Supreme. It couldn’t be. This was something else.

It had been fate the brothers had come that night. And it was that very night… I discovered I couldn’t stay. Not after that. Even now I was terrified to use magic as I could feel it still, in the background. Waiting… Begging.

And now… The demon… Langdon…

He knew.

I could feel it in how he was looking at me but I didn’t dare look him in the eye.  I felt hollowed out,  aching, empty, and alone. So very very alone. And angry…

So very very angry.

“I bet you think I’m pathetic don’t you?” I said suddenly, my voice surprising even me even as I refused to look Langdon in the face.

I all but jumped to my feet, glaring at the marble floor as I finally jerked on my jacket. I ignored the feeling of fabric of the lining rubbing against dirt and dust as well as the guilt that I had done the one thing I was trying to protect this jacket from but… I needed the feeling it gave me.

Myrtle had joked it was my armor when she and the girls gave it to me. And I needed all the armor I could get right now.

“Maybe I am pathetic.” I continued. “A stupid little witch bitch for protecting a group of women who aren’t even my blood when I could have ruled them all. But they are my family and what this shit in my veins was wanting me to do to them… I wouldn’t expect you to understand and- personally- I think you can go straight to hell or whatever festering pit you called out of fucker cause I can assure you, I’m going to make it my damn mission to make sure you won’t go anywhere else.”  

I didn’t dare look at his face as the bastard all but pinned me to a wall and I didn’t dare try punching him across his damn handsome jaw as I wanted as all bets were off if I crossed into the Devil’s Trap. Shooting him was out of the question… I may need the bullets here soon enough. Instead I stepped on the bench I had set under the high barred window, reaching for the iron bars and looking up at the moonlight.

Seriously where the fuck was Stu?

“... I don’t.” Langdon breathed suddenly.

I felt a flash of anger at his voice and I took everything in me to not scream at him.

“What?!” I snapped at him instead over my shoulder.

And then he said a few words that cooled my anger like throwing a candle in a pond.

“I don’t find you pathetic.”

I took a deep breath, my hand starting to clench on the iron bar above me as I slowly turned to look at him behind me. I could feel feel any words I was about to say stop at my throat.

Langdon looked… different now.

He was still the haughty demon but… There was something in his face that was strangely bare as he looked up at me from the floor. Something as bare and as naked as I felt before him.

“You want to keep them safe,” He told me knowingly. “Even though everything in you wants to be with them… You choose not to. You make a point to try to make the best of your situation, even though a part of you hates it, you do it anyway. How can I see that as pathetic? Stupidly selfless perhaps but… I must admit I admire you for doing it. Not most can do such a thing… Run away from a family that accepts them for the sake of said family.”

I couldn’t help but turn to him fully now. I was baffled, stunned. And yet… Something in his voice. Something in the way he looked up at me… It caused my heart to stop for a moment.

It was as if he knew how I felt…

“I… I don’t know what to say to that,” I admitted.

It was true. I really didn’t know what to say. What could I say?

“Take it how you wish… Perhaps Azazel was wrong and should have named you to be the one to lead the army. You certainly have the qualities of a leader But he had…  Other plans for you.” I stepped off the bench and strode over to the trap.

“I thought you said you didn’t know what he wanted me for or why they didn’t come for me.” I pointed out, a slight smirk on my face.

“I don’t, but... I have my suspicions.” Langdon admitted getting to his feet.

“And they are?” I gave him a look.

Come on share with the class here. You had to do your Soul X-ray on me.

You owe me this Langdon.

But of course Langdon had to remind me he was a damn demon.

“Also classified.” Langdon said with that damn smile.

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to smack him for or… Do something else. It’s strange but I wasn’t kicking myself as hard on that now as I don’t think it was just demon pheromones this time. At least I didn’t think so.

I still made a show of sighing loudly.

“You’re a damn tease, do you know that?” I told him, rubbing my temple, half wondering if this strange switch he kept pulling on me was going to give me a headache here soon.

Maybe if this kept up.

“So I have been told.”

I sighed, my arm falling to my side as he gave me that stupid smile. Yet I didn’t feel as annoyed as I knew I should be. After all, this demon had more the answers to the questions I had been looking for since I left New Orleans then he would care to admit but it… Didn’t bother me.

Nor was that all...

It was strange but, standing before him this close... I had the urge to reach out and touch him. I shouldn’t but it… It was like it was magnetic. Like something in me wanted to assure myself he was there, that this had happened. I could have ignored it like I had been this whole time but…

I didn’t.

Later I would blame the strange demonic face I saw earlier, and I just wanted to be sure what I was seeing was real. Later I would blame the whole fact I was getting stir crazy being stuck in a foxhole with a demon. Later I would blame the fact that… Compared to all of the demons I had met he seemed to be the most human. That pain and sadness reflecting in  his eyes that hid just beneath the surface. Something I could understand as easily as I could the need to breath. But…

I didn’t even realize I had lifted a hand and was reaching out for him. Not until suddenly...

A hand was grabbed my wrist.

His grip firm but like iron, his touch a lot warmer than I expected but it was like being doused by cold water as I realized what was happening. I shook my head trying to shake the strange feeling I had like coming up for air.

Reality hit me hard an- almost instantly- a shock of panic ran up my body. I tried to jerk my arm back but he had my wrist locked in his ringed fingers. I could try to shake it off but I could sense my own strength would be like punching a stone wall compared to his.

… I had my arm in a devil’s trap with a very powerful demon…

A demon who probably could do more then just rip my arm off...

Shit shit shit!

I was so dead.

I closed my eyes and, braced myself for more pain then any human or witch could take, for the encroaching blackness. The only thought running through my head being that Cordelia would probably sew me up and bring me back if only to kill me again for everything when they sent was left of me back to New Orleans.

But once more…

This demon surprised me.

“I had wondered how much the blood affected you.” Langdon spoke, with a chuckle.

I swallowed hard and opened my eyes, preparing to face my very very gruesome death. But I hadn’t expected that slight boyish smile Langdon was wearing.

“As much as I enjoy the look on your face, I really recommend you don’t given into it like that especially with a demon you trap yourself unless you truly do have a death wish.” He told me conversationally, like he wasn’t holding my life in his hands.

“Oh sure I do this all the time,” I replied sarcastically.

And then something hit me.

“Wait did you make me do that?”

“No,” He said simply. “I have as much control over you as any demon does the others of our kind. However…”

His thumb ran across my pulse point on my wrist. As it did something… Shifted in me. It was like the strange tension I had with him being in the room with me started to fade away. I didn’t feel so pulled to him as I had before, rather it was more a small tug as opposed to a bodily jerk.

“How… How did-?” I asked as it washed over me like waves on the beach.

“It appears Azazel’s Gift is drawn to me.” Langdon told me. “It seemed only natural I could cool it.”

“Yeah that’s not weird as hell.” I told him. “But… thanks I guess.”

“It’s no trouble.”

He wasn’t letting go of my wrist. That should have bothered me. But… It didn’t. I wondered why that was.

“It’s never done this before.” I told him. “I don’t understand, why now and… Why you? Who are you, exactly?”

It was the closest I could get to the question I really wanted to ask the image of the strange pale face still vivid in my memory from just a few moments ago. Now this…

What are you?

Meanwhile Langdon was giving me the beginnings of a smile. I could swear for a moment I saw the pale face he had flickered before. Even the hand on my wrist felt different for a moment but before I could focus it was gone.

“I’m someone who’s coming was foretold a long time ago,” Langdon told me. “I’m sure have many names but you, hunter... You can call me Michael.”

Michael...

Michael Langdon… I let the name roll around in my head. There was a strange musical quality to it. One I hadn’t expected but….Guess after ‘Azazel’ I was expecting something equally ridiculous but…  

I felt a real smile cross my face.

“It suits you.” I told him.

For the first time, he smiled, and it wasn’t that wicked grin or that smug smirk. It was an actual smile that reached his too blue eyes and once again I wondered things that were probably dangerous. He still had my wrist in his hand, and was running a finger over that pulse point but… I didn’t have the urge I did before to jerk away. Nor did I get the feeling he was doing it to cool the blood. Not any more.

It was then we both heard it. A sound that seemed to echo in the chamber like thunder.

The sound of a car pulling up.

I turned to look at the window behind me, waiting on bated breath as I heard a car door open and close…

And another.

And another.

And then… The sound of another car pulling up, rang out. As it did my heart sank. I could feel a slight squeeze at my wrist as though Lang-No Michael… His name was Michael- seemed to come to the conclusion I did: I had only called one hunter after all. So that meant one thing… I reached over to touch the gun on my hip.

I don’t know how many where up there but I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

And then a voice rang out, echoing in the chamber.

“Ash?!”

That voice… It was calling out my name.

“Ash are you out here?!”

Stu.

I must have breathed his name as Michael suddenly spoke.

“So your cavalry has come after all.”

I turned as it was then, oh so gently, he let go of my wrist and I would be lying if I said suddenly I felt just a little colder than before. I turned to see him looking up at the grate, but it was as if he were looking something far far away. I was tempted to say something to him but I wasn’t sure what, when suddenly Stu was calling once more, his voice a lot louder and a lot closer.

“Hey you alive?!”

I had to tear myself from where I stood before the trap and ran to the bench to climb up to reach up to the grate.

“Over here!” I called between the bars.

I could hear someone I didn’t recognize curse in surprise and there was the sound of boots hitting gravel as someone ran over to the window. I never thought I would be happy to see Stu’s slightly scruffy, warm face and goofy grin through that damn iron grate but I guess I could still be surprised.

“You’re late, you dick!” I told him with a grin despite the war I could feel in my chest. “I hope it was a good date at least.”

He chuckled.

“And here I was worried you were on the edge of death!” He said. “It sounds like you are having too much fun down there.”

“Oh you missed the party I have been having. It’s been a wild ride.”

Stu grinned. He glanced over his shoulder.

“She’s over here!” He called out.

That surprised me. It had just been us on this hunt or so I had thought.

“You make a few friends while I was stuck?” I asked him when he turned over to me.

“Just made a call to Singer’s, you know how Bobby almost knows everyone. Luckily there were a few hunter’s nearby.”

“Has she exorcised that demon yet?” A woman's voice called out, one I didn’t recognise, I could hear shoes on gravel as she got closer.

“Don’t think so!” He called over to her before he turned me. “What, did you get the Latin wrong again?”

“Seriously it was one time and no, idiot, he torched it.”

“Wow, seriously?” He asked, he looked half fearful and half impressed.

“That’s not surprising.” The women’s voice said suddenly, closer than before.

Stu moved to the side as an the women knelt down. She had long brown hair with a few hints of gray that fell past her shoulder, she had a few wrinkles but a kind face.

“I had guessed he was a strong one,” She told me. “I’m Madelyn by the way and I was thinking that Stu’s problem was a demon I was actually looking into this one when I got the call.”  

Stu gave me a grin as he examined the window from the outside.

“Think these grates can be popped open.” He told us. “What do you think?”

The women examined them carefully before she nodded.

“Maybe a crow bar. I don’t think the screws are iron too. But if not Phil does have a Reciprocating Saw,” Madelyn said getting to her feet. “I’ll tell him to get it ready.”

She seemed to walk away as Stu turned back to me with a grin.

"Guess I was right about the whole paranormal magnet thing eh?" He told me.

I shook my head with a laugh.

“You could say that agian.” I said.

"Well no worries, we're going to exorcise that sucker and that will be two birds with one stone!" I could feel a twinge in my chest at that, I glanced over at Michael whose face was unreadable. I didn’t tell Stu but... had a gut feeling it wouldn't work after seeing that pale face Michael bore. He may be demonic but… This was a whole new brand of demonic that I doubted a simple Latin exorcism would work. If that was his own body then could it be possible he was… Something else more than demonic? And besides...

Did I even want to exorcise him? I found myself wondering. He had made sure that demon I was hunting was taken care of, that child murderer wouldn’t be bothering anyone anymore. One more monster put down for good. Plus, maybe it was the whole "foxhole" thing we had here but I...

I...actually liked him.  I could sense…Something different from him now that I knew for sure he wasn’t the monster I thought. A monster, yes, but a different flavor of monster...Like me. And he seriously looked as pissed as I had been with the demons who walked this world…

Maybe…

“Just hurry up Stu!” I shouted. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“On it!” I could hear him say suddenly.

I could hear a shuffle making me think he must have moved away from the grate. I was just about to try to think of the next step when something caught my ears.

“You know it’s not true right?” Michael said behind me breaking the silence.

I swung around to see him standing up rimrod straight, proudly just as he had when he took me down here, his hands behind his back as he looked to me.

“What do you mean?” I asked slowly, trying to ignore that feeling of dread in my gut.

Something was wrong... "Those people he’s with,” Michael told me evenly, as though he were talking about the weather. “They are plenty of things but they certainly aren't... Hunters like yourself and your friend. Madelyn especially...” At first I was confused and then it hit me.

He said he didn't kill the demon in the back room. He said there were others, had mentioned Satanists... I had thought he was lying but now I knew he didn’t really had any reason to lie. Not really.

So that meant... Oh god no.

In a panic I swung around up to the grate.

“STU GET BACK OVER HERE!” I screamed as I almost leapt back on the bench. “STU!”

Silence, I could hear voices in the distance but I had the feeling they didn’t hear me, or maybe they were making it so he couldn’t hear me. I tried to shake the bars to no avail.

Stu was trained like me of course. Monsters were one thing, people who worshipped demons and hellspawn though... Were something else.  Stu wouldn’t expect it if he wasn’t warned. Bobby Singer’s seal of approval was something you worked your ass off for. Even the Coven treasured it.  

Those Satanists probably killed the real hunters Bobby Singer had mentioned to him. Maybe even killed the ones who had gone missing in the area. It would explain why this place had seemed untouched before Stu and I even with all the signs saying otherwise.

"They are going to kill him aren't they?" I breathed in horror, turning back to Michael. His blue eyes didn't move from my face as he gave a slight nod. "Would it pain you if they did?" He asked. “Be honest now, he left you here for hours with me after all. He could have come running sooner... But he didn’t.” "Would it-?! He doesn’t specialize in demons like I do! He probably needed the help! He's an asshole but that doesn't mean he deserves a death like… That!."

I motioned to the black altar, even hours later I could still smell the coppery sulfuric blood.

"Is that what you think?" Michael asked. He wasn't being condescending, or cold, I could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. He was truly curious. Perhaps it was because I had been nothing but honest to him. Maybe it was because that whole “Wayward Daughter” crap... But... Michael wanted to know what I think. Truly. "No, that is what I know," I told him honestly. "Just as you know you demons are supposed to be something different then the ones I’ve been hunting!" At that he tilted his head, examining me with that piercing gaze that made me feel once more like I was being put under an x-ray.

“And what would you be willing to do to defend him if it came to it?” He asked. “What could you do save for... One thing?”

I could feel a lump in my throat forming. Was he proposing…

A deal?

I could feel myself shaking as I actually found myself considering... Could I do that?  As much of an idiot Stu was I couldn’t let him die.

But could I sell my soul for it?

Would he forgive me if I did? Would the Coven?

Would 10 years be enough?

No.

No, it wouldn’t… I had seen enough people after the ten years were up before the hellhounds came. Seen the deep regret, the fear as their short respite was just that… And too short compared to eternity.  I’d rather die now and get it over with then live with a expiration date the rest of my life. Unless..

It was then another idea came to me. It was risky. But at the same time… Michael,had said Azazel had chosen “special children” for a reason, part of their Grand Plan. And I had been set aside for a reason. Neither of us know it but… It must be important for them.

It was crazy but… It just might work.

I raised the gun and pointed it…

At my own temple.

The curious look on Michael’s face was replaced with utter horror and shock as he gasped. I could swear he breathed out the word, No, under his breath but I must have imagined it.

“This answer enough for you?” I told the demon,  trying to ignore the scent of gun oil and the cold metal against the skin of temple.

It was then I clicked the safety off, the sound seemingly echoing in the chamber. This seemed to smack Michael awake from his stupor. He took a few purposeful steps toward me until the Key caught him once again. Like a pull of an invisible leash he was jerked back. He tried to fight it but it pulled him back once more.

“Don’t-!” Michael started almost desperately.

I smiled.

Gotcha.

“Call off your friends and I’ll lower the gun.” I calmly. “After all my dying puts a wrench in this Grand Plan doesn’t it? You may not be willing to tell me what it is but I know this much...”

I leaned forward.

“... Azazel was saving me for something... That much is obvious. So either call off your goons or say goodbye to your Wayward Daughter. Your choice Michael.”

I could see the demon’s jaw tighten, his lips becoming a tight line and then...

...Suddenly Michael broke out into a wide smile.

“You’re a fighter to the very end I see. No wonder why Azazel liked you.” He said.

Michael leaned forward conspiratorially.

"You have my word but… I recommend you and your friend don’t do anything to terribly stupid when they go to take you. And they will try."

I swallowed but I nodded. I know… The word of a demon but like Michael had said a few times before:

He wasn’t like any normal demon.

I shouldn’t trust him… But I did. God forgive me I did.

“Hey you still alive in there!” Stu shouted down.

I lowered the gun and swung around, going back to the bench.

“Where are the others?” I all but demanded when I got back to the grate.

“They are going to check out this cave in of yours. See how bad it is on the other side, meanwhile Mad’s and I are going to check out this thing.” He told me. “We’re going to get you out of there one way or another. Now we just need Madelyn to come with that saw-.”

It was then I saw it… A shadow shift behind him over his shoulder. "Stu behind you!" I shouted.

It was barely a warning when he turned only to get smacked rather hard.

“Damn you!” I shouted, smacking the iron grate with an open palm as Stu slumped before the window, out cold.

“Oh sweetie, don’t you know?” That voice said, sickly sweet. “I’m damned already. So I may as well enjoy the ride all the way to hell.”

I glared at her as Madelyn as she stepped from the shadows and took Stu’s pulse.

“Huh… Looks like you hunter’s are tougher then you look.” She said.

I raised the gun to point outside the bars of the grate.

“Leave him alone or so help me-.” I started.

“Oh I’d be more worried about yourself if I were you, sweetheart,” Madelyn told me. “After all… That demon you have trapped taught us a few tricks too.”

Before I could ask what she meant there was a loud boom like a bomb going off behind me. The force of it all but knocked me off the bench, my gun flying from my hands (I was lucky it didn’t discharge) I could hear the metal as it clattered to some far end of the chamber.

My ears were ringing, I could taste the wave of magic that spell left behind. I hadn’t been done by a magic user but it was one of those spells that I could tell didn’t need one…

Guess selling your soul to Satan had a few perks.

I scrambled to my feet looking to to the direction of the sound as my ear’s rang with an ungodly screaming. The rubble that I had been digging through hours ago was now mostly cleared away now and clear enough for a woman to step through wearing red robes. Her curly dirty blond hair just reaching her shoulders, her pouty lips in a scowl when she caught sight of me, a severe look crossing her face. My stomach sinking as I recognized the golden symbol embroidered across her chest: An Inverse Pentagram.

She was the High Priestess.

Oh hell.

I quickly started to look around for the gun. When suddenly a hiss caught my ear. I looked over to Michael. He was seemingly untouched by the dust and dirt that had exploded all over the room either by magic or by some other force that protected him. He was giving me a pointed look from where he stood unfazed in the trap.

Don’t do anything terribly stupid, He had advised. I could tell he was thinking that again as he shook his head so slightly.

I bit my bottom lip and glared at him but… I stopped. I swallowing hard.

Here’s hoping your word is worth something, I thought, as I raised my hands up as if in surrender.

“Well well, it looks like we have a hunter with a brain after all!” I could hear Madelyn pipe from the grate behind me.

“Yes small wonders do exist do they?” The other women said suddenly before approaching where Michael stood trapped.

As she did a strange mouse faced man (Phil? I guessed), wearing red robe walked through the hole punched through the rubble nor was he the only one. It looked like there were a few others behind him.

“My lord,” The first women said before bowing lowly before Michael along with the other Satanists. “Are you alright?”

“As well as can be expected.” He told them coldly.

I could almost see that persona he had earlier- Langdon- click into place. I wasn’t sure who he was to them but I could tell he was some sort of leader… Did he have like a cult? No, he just said they were Satanists. But…

Most demons didn’t care about humans didn’t they?

Maybe so, or so I thought as he turned to the small congregation.

“Help Madelyn bring our little unconscious hunter inside, it’s far too cold for him to be asleep inside. He will not be that way for long.” He told them before turning to me. “And kindly restrain my captor, I want them both here as I pronounce their sentence for disrupting our unholy cause.”

I would have preferred him to punch me in the gut. You fucking liar! I wanted to snap as my heart sank. Ignoring the pain in my chest that had erupted suddenly (you stupid idiot! You should have known better). Quickly I went to look for the gun when suddenly two Satanists appeared before me in their red robes.

Oh no you don’t.

I knew I was dealing with people who probably hadn’t fought someone like me a day in their life when One tried lunged forward to grab me. I  dodged it and took the opening I had with him learning forward, kicked out in a perfect snap kick right under his jaw. The top of my combat boots snapping his jaw shut. He head jerked back as he stumbled falling on his ass.

I swung around to the other one, a women who was angrily swinging a punch at me so stupidly wide that I ducked easily. As I did I quickly aimed a few sharp snap punch right across the ribs, each hitting hard enough to hurt like a bitch as she cried out. I feel the start of a few bruises on my knuckles but no time for that. I shuffled closer, grabbing her from her robed back and jerking her so my raised knee met her gut. I let go of her to let her hit the marbled floor, hearing her wheezing hard.

I was about to turn to whoever was next when suddenly I was bodily thrown back against the wall. The force just hard enough to knock the wind out of me but not hard enough to crack my skull. I struggled, trying to get my breath back and looked up to see Michael holding his hand out a tell tale smile on his face.

Shit.

I tried to jerk forward but it was like I was being held back by iron shackles to the wall. I could feel his power crash against me like a wave against the rocks. It was then I saw a Satanist near where the rug had been pulled up stand up, a knife on his hand. A knife I was betting had just scraped a bit of spray paint off the floor.

The seal was well and truly broken then.

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t go without a little bit of a fight in the end,” The demon said with a quirk of lips as though it amused him.

I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to kick myself for thinking I could trust him for letting myself be played by a damn demon, I wanted to punch a few more of these assholes and maybe him a few times. But I just kept my mouth shut, my jaw straining from clenching it as a few people emerged from the entrance holding up an unconscious Stu between them. They all but dragged him to where I was against the wall and threw him before me like a pile of dirty laundry before stepping back.

The two Satanists who I had smacked around getting to their feet as well, looking at me with so much hate you’d think they were the real demons and I had cried out “Cristo.”

I could hear excited whispers and voices from the small congregation of Satanists as the High Priestess spoke up suddenly.

“These two have not only come here to attack our way of life...” She said to the congregation before us.

She spoke a politician before a rally as she stepped forward to where I was pinned. I could hear a few members of the congregation all but cheer her on, latching on to her words like they were the starved masses being given bread for the first time in a long time.

The high priestess stopped when she was standing before me. Hate twisting her features to something ugly, but I looked her dead in the face all the same. Just to piss her off I gave her a grin.

“...But they have entrapped our lord, our savior before us. Where this any other circumstance we would strip them of their worldly finery and give their so called righteous hearts to Lucifer in the Black Mass. However...”  

She turned to Michael, taking a few steps before him and before kneeling.

“We leave it to you to judge them and condemn them as you see fit my lord, it was you that they have wronged the most after all.”

The congregation of Satanists followed their high priestess, kneeling before him, all around him like a small sea of red. I could see the quirk of his lips as I could tell he was enjoying this.

“I accept your choice to leave their fate’s in my hands, Miss Milton.” He told her, letting his hand fall almost gracefully to his side yet the force was still there holding me up against the wall.

It was then he stepped form the broken trap, and I could swear I felt the the earth itself shift as he did but I must have imagined it. He closed his cerulean eyes, a pleased smirk crossing his face as he relished stepping from the trap. When his eyes opened he looked right at me, that damn look still on his face as she started to step forward. Each footstep echoed in the stone chamber like the bells of doom.

Once again I wondered if I was looking into my death but… I tossed that thought aside. I was supposed to play a part in this grand plan right? No, it was Stu I was mostly worried about. Stu who was groaning awake, as Michael stepped over him until he was standing in between us both.

His eyes breaking eye contact if only to examine Stu. I couldn’t see his face but I could tell he was thinking carefully. I watched him on bated breath when suddenly he spoke.

“Let them go.” Michael decreed.

It was a good thing his power still pinned me against the wall I would have fallen over in relief. But I think I was the only who was happy about it. Almost instantly a flurry of hush whispers erupted. But it was the High Priestess in particular that spoke up

“My lord?” She said agast, I could see her looking up in shock

“You heard me,” He said. “Let them go. Or do you question my judgement now, Hannah? Shall I remind you the state his congregation was in when I found you?”

Almost instantly the whispers were silenced. The high priestess lowered her eyes in respect, in fear.

“No… Never my lord.”

“Good.” Michael said. “After all… One should not kill the messengers sent by Lucifer himself even though they may be unwitting messengers after all.”

What? I wanted to gasp. Nor was I the only one, I could hear gasps and whispers once more around the room.

“Mich-My lord?” A voice called from the back.

I looked over to see Madelyn red robes over her clothes now,  she looked to Michael as confused as I felt. I could see him smile fondly as though to calm her. I wondered who she was to him as she seemed to know his name like I did.

“Remember the tales I’ve told you Madelyn when you found me, lost in the wilderness. The stories of the Wayward Daughter.”

There was a slew of gasps. Nor where they the only ones. I was tempted to snap at him that he wasn’t sure of this “Wayward Daughter” at all but something in me told me that wouldn't’ be a good idea. Don’t do anything stupid, he had said. I had a feeling speaking out against him while he spoke to them was one of those “stupid” ideas.

“She has made it clear to me there are some of Satan’s army who have rebelled against his wishes. They have defied their father… Their god.” He said, addressing them as confidently as king would to his army.

His voice may not have been talking to them loudly yet it still echoed off the chamber walls,  I could see them drink up every word of his like water.  

“These demons are not tempting people to his side, they are killing them, consuming them. Turning them into martys for the side we desperately wish to destroy. Betraying the Great Plan.” He told them heatedly, I could hear the anger dripping off every word in his silky voice.

“This is merely making our enemies even stronger, forcing mankind off the path to it’s own destruction. How can the Dark Messiah and cleanse this world if we have so many trator’s in our midst?”

I had to try not to let my jaw drop. Holy shit… Was he-?

“My lord, please! Let us find them for you!” No fucking way… Was this demon-?

Michael smiled at them.

“Very well my dear believers, tell all those that walk the different path. Tell them to hunt these monsters down, bind their black souls to the bodies of those they possess. Carve out the smoke that fills their hearts in the Black Mass and send them to hell to face the wrath of their leader. I shall tell Him to expect those traitors to punish as he sees fit and you shall be rewarded by the hellfires when the chosen son finally rises and this world burns.”

The red robed men and women bowed lowly over and over again. I could hear chorus’ of “Hail Satan” and “Ave Satanas” as they did so. I just couldn’t help but look at Michael in shock.

He had somehow convinced a group of Satanists to hunt the very demons they worship and from what I can tell others soon would follow. What the hell kind of demon was he? Who was he that they were so willing to do this?

But I before I could wonder any more than that. He turned to me, stepping closer so he was once again so close I could touch... if I could move that is. I was hit with the scent of amber, leather and something else… Something that wasn’t sulfur like most demons but it had a strange spice and musk to it. Something that had me feeling it was like a taste of the deeper circles of hell. One we had yet to discover anything from.

Once more he spoke yet his voice was low. Something that I know he was making it so only I would hear.

“You’ve done very well. You’re friend will live to die another day. However…” He trailed off.

He reached over to gently trace my jaw with the backs of his fingers, his skin felt warm and making my face burn but I refused to jerk away. I just glared him dead in the eye.

Just do what he said. Do what he said and we will get out of here alive.

I tried not to notice how my heart hammered in my chest, or how body started to heat up once more when he stepped closer or how that pull was tugging me towards him once more despite the enchantment that all but nailed me to the wall. I could smell amber, leather, incense, and something else I couldn’t name- something like mulling spices yet deeper. Something intoxicating that rolled over me like a spell.

“You can run from it all you like, in fact I encourage you to do so as it’s rather amusing. But it doesn’t change anything. One day, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps many years from now... You will come to know the part you were chosen to play all those years ago.”

What?

I almost gasped. Did he know more then he let on...? Or was that guess he claimed to have more or less confirmed? I had so many questions but I couldn’t find the words to ask as his hand pulled away from my skin.

“Until then… I will keep in touch.” He told me.

That was the only warning I had when suddenly his hand jerked and my vision suddenly went black.

---

“Hey wake up! Wake up!” I could hear a familiar voice say suddenly pulling me into reality with a pounding headache.

“What?”I groaned.

“Was kinda hoping you’d tell me here?” I could hear that familiar voice say.

I opened my eyes to see Stu kneeling next to where I lay. Wait.. was I laying on something? What-? But wasn’t I-? Suddenly everything came rushing back, the cave in, the Satanic cult…

Michael.  

I sat up with a gasp and winced as my head pounded even more. I cursed under my breath.

“Whoa easy!” Stu said suddenly almost urging me to lay back down.

He didn’t have to do much convincing as I lay down carefully once more. I rubbed my temple.

“You okay?” Stu asked me carefully.

“Think so… head’s pounding.”

“Did they knock you out too?”

“The demon did,” I replied.

“Ouch.”

I lay on the bench, hoping the pounding would fade away. Slowly I opened my eyes to see the familiar ceiling of our hotel room. How we ended up here I wasn’t sure but I had a feeling a certain someone was behind it.

We’d have to head back to the underground church but I would bet everything was wiped clean. Michael was probably gone to the wind as well as those Satanists.

I’m going to find him though, I thought. Bastard owes me a hell of ton of answers.

“Guessing you don’t have any idea how the hell we survived that do you?” He asked.

“You’re not going to believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Part 2- TBA

[redsdesktop]

Unbalanced Scales

Chapter 2

Chapter Index

Warnings: Mild Swearing

Pairings: Christophe x Gregory

AU: Medieval / Fantasy, ABOverse

"So how do you know Gregory, Sir Christophe?" The blond paladin ask, he'd been the only one to really bother making an effort to talk to the weathered mercenary.

"Stop with the 'sir', its just Christophe." He tugged out a waterskin from his saddlebag, taking a small pull from it, he'd been born and raised to ration, no matter how plentiful he may have at the time. Old habits die hard. "We met when I had a knife in his back."

This seemed to come to some surprise to the paladin, though with how much knowledge he'd gained of his current company, Christophe could assume why. Leopold seemed to hold an optimistic view of the world, despite how badly the Wizard King seemed to treat him. He hated the whole dynamic between Leopold and the other three. However, he weathered it, for now. Getting concerned about the welfare of others would only come back and bite him in the ass, it always did.

"I thought you and Councilor Gregory were good friends, he wouldn't put so much faith in you otherwise." Leopold pointed out, while the innocent may believe such lofty notions, Christophe wasn't fooled, he never had been.

"He's a pompous prick and a bastard, kid." Christophe capped his waterskin and put it back in his saddlebag. They'd been traveling a little over a week with very little rest. It appeared that this curse seemed to be wearing on everyone, with the majority of the company alphas, Christophe could see why.

"I-I happen to be an adult, you know. You can't be that much older than me, sir- I mean Christophe." Leopold sounded offended, a sign that maybe he spent too much time trying to prove himself. That alone was worrying, those guided by such notions did foolish, reckless things. It was always a gamble, one Christophe would never take.

"I'm old enough to call you a kid. If you were smarter that a pig's ass, you'd return back home." Christophe looked over at the paladin, already knowing his warnings would go unheeded. A man with morals would only truly get in Christophe's way, he wasn't a good man and he didn't want someone with a sense of righteousness screw this entire plan up.

"I can't do that, the Princess is counting on me." Leopold's words seemed set in stone, Christophe dropped the topic there. He recognized such a tone, anyone who had it was senseless and it would be like arguing with a brick wall.

The cremello horse in front of his own drew to a stop, causing his own dark bay gelding to draw to a halt. Christophe looked up from his musings, there was thin wisps of smoke rising up into the air, the trees barren of foliage, their skeletal remains reaching up in the last rites, clawing for the heavens with blackened fingers. Fire and ash.

When Gregory dismounted from his horse, Christophe followed suit, moving past the horses to get a better view.As he stood beside Gregory, a small village lay in ruins before him. Charred walls, vacant rooves. He could still hear the faint smoldering crackle of lingering fires, too stubborn and greedy to go out. Strew about the ruined dirt paths were bodies, some caught trying to run away, others trying in vain to protect those they cared about. The massacre had been thorough and Christophe doubted anyone had managed to survive such a methodical killing.

"What in God's name.." Leopold spoke first, breaking the tense silence as Christophe crouched down at the ashen remains of what appeared to be a young woman.

"God? No, God fucked off long ago." Christophe muttered under his breath as he brushed his dirt covered fingers over the woman's skin, feeling bits of it crumble under such a light touch.

"What the hell is going on here?" Eric finally decided to join the conversation. "We're supposed to be investigating the curse here, there haven't been any bandit attacks in over a year!" He narrowed his eyes, studying the carnage before him before looking over to the side, catching sight of Kyle and Stan moving up to join the rest. "Unless it was the elves trying to backstab us while we're vulnerable, I wouldn't put it past you pointy eared assholes."

Fire lit in Kyle's eyes, all too easily riled by the Wizard King's words. "Why would we do something like this, fatass? This curse effects both humans and elves! We're just as vulnerable as you are!"

"Quite frankly, the both of you should shut up already, I'm tired of your bickering." Gregory intervened with a simple raise of his brow. "Who knows if the culprits behind this attack are still lingering nearby and I would prefer if we not attract unwanted attention." That seemed to be well enough to quieten the two for the time being, though how long that would last was unknown as the two kings were still glaring at each other.

"Christophe, scout the area, figure out what transpired here and then report back to me. The rest of you stay close, I don't want you trampling over the evidence." Gregory instructed, receiving a annoyed growl from Christophe but that was all the protest he made before standing up and slinking further into the village.

Considering the amount of people in the street, it was likely the houses had been set on fire first, to force the villagers out of their homes and into the open. Crouching down next to a young man, likely a farmer, decently built, could probably handle his own against a untrained bandit or two. However, as he pushed the corpse onto his back, there was something odd. There wasn't any wounds. No blade or arrow had pierced his flesh. The cause of his death had been being burned. It was unusual, but before Christophe came to any conclusions, he needed to examine other bodies.

Body after body, there was nothing but charred flesh, a few had already been feasted upon by scavengers but the result was the same. Having gained enough evidence of a decent enough conclusion, Christophe returned to the group. The horses pawed at the earth, disturbed by the smell of fire and burnt flesh. Even the humans and elves seemed slightly put off by the very feel lingering in the air.

"Report." Gregory seemed at ease, unlike their company. Such ravaged lands and people, it wasn't the first time either of them had encountered such a scene.

"I found no survivors, though who'd want to survive this hell anyways." Christophe pulled up the cloth that had been tied around his neck, using it to clear away the smoke and sweat staining his weathered face. "Everyone appears to have died from fire."

"I see." Was all Gregory said.

"You see? What the hell is going on here, Gregory? This-" Christophe motioned to the destruction behind him, "-This is supposed to be here."

"What's he talking about?" Stan spoke up, his growing concern was warranted. "Who did this?"

"Échelle." Christophe spat out, turning away to rub his face in frustration.

"What? What did he say?" Eric stepped forward, pointing a finger at Christophe, who curled his lip in return.

"I don't recognize that language either." Kyle added, looking concerned. For an long lived elf, it was rare for him to come across a language he did not know.

"It is the shortened term for dragons." Gregory's expression was grim, staring up at the sky as if just speaking their name would summon them.

"Dragons? Th-those are just a myth, right fella's?" Leopold sounded frightened now, it was about time he took the gravity of the situation more seriously.

"Is that what they say in the civilized world these days? Too afraid to ever admit such fearsome beasts ever existed." Christophe moved closer to Leopold, a low rumble forming in the back of his throat, he was tense. "Its by pure luck that the humans managed to knock them off their seat of power, but the mere idea of having stolen the throne was too much for the greed of men."

"But, if the stories of old true, weren't the dragons' number so severely depleted that  the remaining few retreated to the far north?" Kyle's brows were furrowed, not even the elves wanted to believe, but Christophe couldn't blame them. A curse, that was something they could possibly deal with. Add dragons to the mix and things tended to get... a little complicated.

"Something must have drawn them back." Gregory sighed, no longer able to keep his noble facade. The voice gained Christophe's attention, turning his forest green eyes back to the fair haired councilor.  "This curse, it wasn't the dragonfolk, something like this isn't as grand. This curse speaks of more nefarious deeds. And they certainly wouldn't play their hand this boldly. This, this is revenge."

"Revenge?" Christophe turned away from the rest of their company, having figured out that they were lacking the knowledge required for this portion of the investigation. They seemed to protest the exclusion, at least the Wizard King did. "After all this time, you think they want their throne back?"

"I'm not quite certain of that. Even after so long, their forces would not be strong enough to face off against both humans and elves. I have not heard any word of dragon disturbances, so this is a surprise." Gregory looked over at Christophe, it was very rare that Gregory met Christophe's gaze, a strange habit considering their dynamics, but not their history. Christophe felt uneasy looking into those light blue eyes.

For so long, Christophe had tried to forget Gregory, nothing ever seemed to work. No amount of space, no amount of work could put what happened out of his mind. He loathed it, loathed the man himself with every fiber of his being. He knew rationally that Gregory would use him, Christophe had always been a means to an end for Gregory. The man was far more ambitious, far more dangerous than any living creature in this world. At least to Christophe. To the dirty farmer, Gregory owned a part of him that no one else had achieved, their fates so tied together that Christophe had given up hope long ago of avoiding.

Gregory's gaze softened, just for a moment. So deceptive that even Christophe's heart fell for such a paltry trick. It had been far too long and yet, not long enough. Christophe clenched his jaw, making a muscle tick in his cheek, a motion that did not go unnoticed by Gregory. The blond gave a half smile, amusement lighting his eyes, humored by Christophe's ire. It was always irritation, always grating on his nerves how eager Gregory was to test him, to poke and prod to see how long it took before Christophe finally snapped. The sadistic bastard.

Christophe wasn't certain when, but Gregory was closer, not by much but he was well aware of the blond's position at all times. His entire focus was on the taller male, the others in their company, their bickering seemed muffled background noise. Christophe knew he was being drawn in, toyed with, it had happened so many times before and yet he could never defend himself against it. The scent of warm tea brushed across his nose, the familiar scent of Gregory. It turned his more primitive side into putty and that alone made him irritable. Weakness would not be tolerated withing Christophe's life and Gregory had a way of bringing it out of him.

"So, what will you have us do now, Gregory?" Christophe's words were a rough whisper, as if already knowing what the blond would say to him. However, he needed to hear it, to hear this crazy idea that Gregory schemed up in a moment's notice. Thinking on the fly, adapting to his surroundings in an instant was Gregory's specialty. He always had a plan, but he was always flexible with it, bending and adding to fit whatever problem revealed itself to them.

"I'm going to do my job and hold a council with the dragons."

[sarahjtrash]

The Dreadful Dark

Nessian, 1.9K, Rated T

Summary: All Nesta wanted was a the next book in her series. Instead, she got an unwanted adventure all her own. Enjoy!

-o-0-o-

It was three in the morning.

Three in the morning, and Nesta was insane enough to be outside in the Velaris winter. 
Her coat was pulled so tight against her body that it felt like a human corset. Her breath curled in front of her, and her tote bag bounced against her side.

Nesta Archeron was nothing if not determined

There was one book store in Velaris that offered twenty-hour hour service. Only half an hour ago, she’d finished the second book in the series, and Nesta would be damned if she didn’t start the next one immediately.

She walked briskly, fueled by the cold and her need to start the next book.  She avoided the crowded main streets, instead following quieter residential ones as she trudged home, book already purchased. Despite her strange route, Nesta never saw a single soul. Rarely was she awake this late, but many in this city opted to sleep in the day and live for the night. The only person she had seen was the bookseller who seemed a cagey.

As she passed rows of brownstones, her shadow grew longer as the street lamps next to her flickered out. Nesta tensed, and quickened her pace. All she needed was to get to the alley. The townhouse was barely a two minutes walk from there. And then she could curl up in bed, start her book, and no one would be the wiser. None of that would matter though, if she froze to death before she reached that stupid alley.

Her slippers muffled her steps.

She glanced over her shoulder, noting nothing, before turning into the alley. Cassian would probably kill her for not sticking to main streets, but he could burn in hell. At least he’d be warm there.

Light at the end of the alley slowly drifted from the other end. The darkness encompassing her dissipated. Nesta pushed some of her hair out of her face. Distantly, she heard someone approaching. Their gait inconsistent, as if they had too much fun drinking.

When she turned to look, though, there was no drunk patron. No, a man stood not six inches behind her. A wicked grin consumed his face as he thrust a hidden blade into her stomach. 

Instantly, she doubled over and was pushed to the ground. She managed to roll onto her back before someone pinned her and the pain spread through her gut.

“Hello Emissary,” her assailant purred, breath licking her ear.

Nesta tried to squirm, trying any tactic to remember that Cassian had taught her. But she could barely move. Her arms were pinned to her sides. Her legs could move, but it made her stomach burn. She inched her fingers towards her gut and found them wet.

Stabbed. She’d been stabbed.

Nesta groaned in a mix of frustration and pain.

“That’s right,” the man hissed as he roughly shoved his hand on her mouth. “Don’t you even dare to try and call for help.”

Nesta bit his hand. He swore but kept her mouth covered. Nesta bucked her legs, trying to upend her attacker.

“Bitch,” he snarled as he grabbed her hand from under his leg, pined it above her, driving a knife straight through it.

Nesta’s shriek was completely muffled behind his hand. Her thrashing increased against the pain in her wrist and her stomach. She felt her night gown being rucked up and panic flooded her veins.

There were two people.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’m not supposed to rape you,” the second man snorted as his hands squeezed her upper thigh. Nesta wanted to vomit at the use of Cassian’s nickname.

Her screams increased and she tried to dig into her magic reserves. Maybe she couldn’t be physical with them, but she could increate them into oblivion. When she reached, though, she found them empty. Her stomach wasn’t even clotting and she could feel the blood seeping through her nightgown.

Her magic could not fail her now.

The man on top of her laughed. “It’s faebane, witch. You’re as good as dead with your wounds. Clearly, the High Lord needs to watch his little Circle more. Would you shut up?”He backhanded her. Nesta kept squirming and hollering under his hand. Her teeth continued to try and bite him.

“We could make this so much easier if you just stopped. That Commander needs to watch his little whore more—” he licked her neck—“Delicious. I see why he likes his little hellcat. Kier preferred us to get your sister,  but any one of the three of you would do.”

Nesta stopped moving.

Kier.

The bloody streets were empty because of the Courtiers from the Night Court. Rhys told everyone in the city to avoid the streets at night during their visits. No one would even risk leaving their house tonight. They would not show her mercy, and no one would help her.

Her breath became shallow. Her vision blurred.

The second attacker’s freezing hands gripped her legs tighter and slide up.

Nesta felt her power draining the longer that stupid dagger pierced her wrist.

Her vision was fogging over, blurring at the edges. She shook her head in a vain attempt to clear it.

Holy Gods. She might die. Holy Gods. She might die. Holy Gods. She was going to die.

She was going to die. Her throat burned at her screams. It felt like she might choke to death, and she released a small whimper.

The man at her legs grunted, presumably at her sounds. Nesta felt him leave her legs. She closed her eyes begging someone to help her.

Please.

The world felt like fell off its axis. More grunting. Nesta willed herself to pass out, it was cruel of the mother to make her stay conscious for this.

The man on top of her turned his head.

“Ba—“ he suddenly flew off her. Nesta pulled the dagger pinning her wrist out. The movement caused her gut to convulse. She managed to push herself against the brick wall, knife wielded in front of her.

Her breath was shallow, and she could barely see. Black and red rimmed her vision. Men were swearing, and she thought she heard a body thump to the ground. She prayed it was someone here to help.

Nesta felt herself slipping towards the precipice of passing out. Her head weighed on her neck. If she could just close her eyes and get her godsdamn breathing to deepen. She looked down and the hand on her stomach was coated in blood.

She was dying.

They always try and convince people to stay awake when they’re dying, but Nesta couldn’t remember why. The small release of closing her eyes was orgasmic. She focused on breathing evenly, and she felt her head drop to the side.

Someone was calling her name, swearing too. Nesta couldn’t hold it together much longer, but someone reached under her arm. She would never let those men take her again. With unrestrained conviction, Nesta threw herself away from her assailant. Pain roared through her body and her vision flooded with black.

-o-0-o-

Nesta woke in a white linen bed, and a cold sweat across her brow. Her body ached, and when she moved her hand to her stomach, it met bandage. Around her were fluffy sheets so white it seemed like she had died and ended in the great beyond.

A chair creaked next to the bed.

In it, Cassian stared at her like she could break in moment.

However, he also looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His under-eye circles shrouded half his face, and his eyes were blood shot. The intensity in his gaze almost sacred her, except there was too much concern laced in it.

She opened her mouth to say something, but found her mouth parched.

Immediately, Casian moved to pour her a glass of water. He cradled her head gently and helped her drink. When she was done, he set her head down and moved the glass back.

She cleared her throat. “I guess we’re even now on saving each other’s lives.”

Instead of responding, Cassian breathed heavily. He licked his kips twice but didn’t say anything. Nesta couldn’t stand the intensity of his look.

“Listen, Cass—“

“You could’ve died.” His voice broke, and his face crumpled when he spoke.  

Nesta swallowed. “But, I didn’t.”

“Barely.” He whispered.

Nesta couldn’t look at his face any more. Neither of them had seriously talked about what was between them, and Nesta strongly preferred that it didn’t happen now.

“Where are we?” She said as she turned back towards him.

“Madja’s. Luckily, you were less than a block from her place. She said that if you been out there for just a few more minutes, you’d be dead.”

The word clanged around Nesta’s head. It seemed unreal. To be gifted immortality, and then be almost dead in less than a year of that gift. She wouldn’t exist anymore. One look at Cassian showed that he was thinking the same thing.

“What?” She challenged anyway.

His eyebrows raised. “Really? What? Nesta, you could’ve died.”

“Do the others know?”

“Rhys and Feyre know that they attacked a civilian, but I did not specify who. I thought you might want this to be private. But, if he knew it was you, then we could probably ban them from Velaris for good.”

She considered it. Her sisters would never stop if they knew. In fact, Feyre would probably rip apart the entire Court of Nightmares. Despite how warming the thought was, Nesta could not do that yet. Not now. She wanted to recover more before that.

She only nodded in agreement to his decision. She hated how much he could guess her desires. “I guess we’re even now,” she said, “so if you want a thank you, you won’t get it.”

“I know. I’d be even more concerned about you if you did thank me. But you have to know that they were smart. It was almost silent where they found you. I was the only one who came, and it’s not because I could hear you.”

Nesta knew, and she would not be baited like this. “I am not an idiot. I understand how these things work.”

“Do you? Because it’s not just about getting even.”

Nesta scoffed. “I get that, but please respect me enough not to have this conversation right now.”

Pained shock drenched his face, and Nesta cursed herself for caring about it. “Just not now, Cass. We can talk about it later, but I am far too exhausted to do it right now.”

He nodded before leaning back in the chair. “Then what would you like me to do? Because you can get me to avoid this conversation, but you can’t get me to leave.” She expected as much. “Did you grab my bag?”

Almost sheepishly, he raised it up from he was hiding it below his chair.

“Great,” she told him sincerely, “can you read to me?”

He laughed sharply. “You want me to read to you?”

She shrugged. “What else are we to do? I did have a reason to be outside at three.”

“Indeed, you did, Nes. Indeed, you did.”

He flipped open the book to first page and began to read. His voice carried through the room until Nesta felt completely enveloped in his soft inflections. Soon, they’d talk about why he knew to come. But right now, all she wanted was her favorite characters personified by the one person who came to save her.

-o-0-o-

Thank you so much for reading!

[shadowgale96]

‘I was walking by the roller coasters and SOMEONE’S SHOE FLEW OFF AND HIT ME IN THE HEAD’ AU Prompt

Eruri. From this prompt. Read more here or on AO3

Levi does not like theme parks.

They’re chaotic and noisy and unhygienic. Just thinking about how many people sat in the same seat and held the same softy bars and shat in on the same toilet was enough to cement a disgusted expression into his face. He was adamant about staying clear from any sort of bacteria ridden cesspool like an amusement part. But when Isabel came running in waving her pink cased cell phone in his face showing him news feeds of the brand new terrifyingly thrilling wooden coaster a nearby theme park had build. He had a hard time saying ‘no’.

Well, no actually. That’s a lie. He said ‘no’ quite a few times. But Izzy’s large green eyes eventually wore him down, and Levi found himself exactly where he swore he’d never be. In the center of Hell. It had to be. Nothing was worse than this. It was hot and loud, and he swears he can feel heat radiating off everyone’s bodies as they weave through the crowds.

Sweaty arms brushed up against Levi as he walks and his body goes ridged at the vulgarity of the situation. Bile choking up in his throat as an aggravated shutter racks through his body.

“Com’on Com’on Com’on!” Isabel cried, emerald eyes beaming in excitement. “This way!”

Levi let out a fuming sigh. He followed behind Isabel with the sourest expression imaginable. Children even staggered back when they saw him.

Farlan stepped a little closer and nudged him. “You could try to look like you’re having a good time, for Izzy’s sake at least.”

Levi shot him a death glare. He was almost at the end of his rope.

“Okay, okay.” Farlan said calmly. “ Maybe ‘having a good time’ is a bit of a stretch, but maybe a little less of a ‘I’m about to go on a homicidal rampage’ look.

Levi grimaced and looked away. He just wants to get his day over with. He’d ride the fucking ride and do whatever else Isabel wanted to do at the park, and then he would go home and pretend this day never happened.

Levi and Farlan followed Izzy through the crowds and eventually reached the back of the line. The very very unbelievably-long-as-fuck line. Levi knuckles couldn’t become whiter. The line stretched and weaved through multiple shaded areas, snaking it’s way to an unseeable destination.

Izzy giddily hopped in place in front of them, and Farlan stood next to Levi looking absolutely terrified.

“We’ll… uh… be there before you know it?” Farlan tried.

“Don’t talk.”

“It might help time go by faster.”

“Shut it.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Levi dug his hands into his shorts which, despite being the smallest pair of shorts he owned, were much too hot. Levi could feel the dampness of sweat on the back of his neck, and he didn’t need a mirror to know how flushed his pale skin probably was in this blistering heat. A pulsing headache was already beginning to form from all the screaming.

Isabel’s cheery voice suddenly grabbed his attention. “Big Bro, Look! The coaster’s com’n round again!”

Levi glanced beyond the wooden fence. The red metal track of the roller coaster towered high above them. Its closeness gave those in line something to watch. But it was probably more of a design based to tease the guests.

Levi could hear the screaming build before he saw the coaster. The large thing flew down the track at lightning speed and curved their way to pass overhead as it had before. As it whooshed by, there was a small gust of wind that Levi reveled in. Suddenly, his heart spiked.

He didn’t have time to pull his hands out of his pockets before he realized something in the center of his vision was barreling straight towards him. In an instant the shadow of the object passed over him. Something slammed into him. The pressure of it consumed his entire face. Levi’s vision jerked. Suddenly, he was seeing sky and trees.

Then the world went black.

-

When he came to, he realized he was no longer standing on a cement path in big-ass line. The coolness of the air told him that much. He was in the shade. The persistent hum of voices and the level of humidity told him he was still in the park.

Levi’s eyes peeked open. One of the first things he processed was white sheets and a red cross. Fuck. That makes sense.

 and he quickly found Falran and Isabel. They were standing a few meters away, intently listening to a doctor, or whatever the fuck a theme part medical station worker is called. They looked concerned as they nodded along to words Levi couldn’t hear. But, they weren’t the only ones there.

There were three other men standing close by listening along with his friends. There was a scraggly looking man with dark hair and a pathetic excuse of a beard as well as a ridiculously tall man with blond hair and heavy bangs. In the middle, was someone how had the bluest eyes Levi’s ever seen. His golden hair was combed back perfectly and fluffy blonde eyebrows knitted in concern. He was even wearing a short sleeved sweater vest. In short, he looked like an idiot… and maybe a bit like a kicked puppy.

Those sorry eyes were surprisingly endearing.

When doctor stepped away from them, the taller blond smirked. “I can’t believe you fucking hit him, Erwin.”

“I told you I didn’t want to come here, Mike. Look what happened!” Erwin said.

Mike smirked. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d end up hospitalizing someone with your big feet.”

“This isn’t funny!” Erwin whisper yelled.

Erwin’s expression slowly grew more mortified. Levi’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Everything was still… foggy. As he continued to scan the group, he noticed something very odd. ‘Erwin’ was missing a shoe. Levi’s head throbbed and a strapping ache spread across his skull. Don’t fucking tell me.

There was a light gasp near him that grabbed his attention. The doctor was stading over him now.

“Mr. Ackerman?” They tested. “Mr. Ackerman are you awake, can you hear me?”

“What do you think?” He croaked out sarcastically.

No shit he was awake. His eyes were open. What kind of doctor is this? The doctor sighed and moved around him checking his vitals. At the commotion, the group outside looked his way, and he suddenly had five pairs of eyes locked on him. Isabel and Farlan rushed over. Levi held the gaze of the dorky looking blond who remained cemented in his place.

 “Levi, Bro!” Isabel bent down by his side. “How yuh feel’n?”

Levi found her worried eyes. With a flat expression he said, “Like I was hit by a brick.”

Farlan smirked. “Hah, Not so much.”

Levi nodded bitterly. It was a shoe. It had to be. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Was it Blondie’s?”

Farlan and Isabel’s eyes widened as they glanced at eachother.

“How’d yuh know?” Isabel asked.

“ ‘Cause he looks like he’s about to shit himself.” Levi said. “HEY BLONDIE!”

Erwin’s shoulders tightened. For a moment Levi wondered if he would even dare to step into the tent, but then the blond found his courage and came his way.

Farlan leaned down speaking fast and hushed. “Levi what are you doing?!”

“Having fun.” Levi said.

“Levi! He feels bad enough as is, don’t do anything stupid!”

“Were you knocked unconscious today?” Levi said in a simple almost innocent sounding voice.

“No-I”

“Then let me handle this.”

Farlan looked like he was going to say more but then Erwin was stepped close to the gurney Levi was laying on. Levi’s friends rose and gave the two some space. As they walked away their eyes shared a silent conversation.

Do you think that guy has any idea what’s about to happen to him?

No chance in hell.

They stepped back outside leaving Levi alone with Erwin and the doctor.

“Erwin?” Levi asked.

Erwin took in a breath and nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”

Levi crossed his arms and watched Erwin with a lingering deadened stare. Erwin shifted for a moment waiting for Levi to say more but he didn’t. Erwin awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Are you… feeling all right?”

“What do you think?” Levi spat.

Erwin’s startled back. “I-uh-um- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“

“To what? To give me a concussion? Because I think you did.” Levi glanced at the doctor. “Do I have a concussion?”

The doctor paused. “It’s highly possible.” They said cautiously.

“Will I have to go to the hospital?” Levi asked flatly.

“We’ve already called you an ambulance. It might just be a concussion, but I do need to advise you to get yourself looked over to be safe.”

Levi slowly pulled his glare back to Erwin. “Well, that’s great.”

“If money is a problem, I can help however-”

Levi cut him off. He didn’t want to hear this dorky looking man with stupidly perfect eyes speak.

“Tell me, Blondie. I can’t see my face but your expression is giving me a good idea. Just how bad does this look exactly?” Levi’s words were laced with venom.

Erwin took in another breath. He stared at a part of Levi’s face that he couldn’t see. The blonde’s expression wavered, and Levi could see Erwin really didn��t want to tell him. But eventually he let out a reluctant sigh and answered. “It’s really bruising.”

The embers of anger ignited deep in Levi’s chest. “Peachy.”

“It-”

“It’s gonna keep getting darker for the next few hours!”

Erwin closed his mouth. Only just realizing that maybe he shouldn’t be talking to Levi right now. Throughout the whole conversation, Erwin had a sadness in his eyes, a sadness that made Levi want to hit him. Levi was still raging. This day sucked. Fuck all of it: the heat, the people, the noise, the ride, and fuck Erwin and his puppy face. He wasn’t even the one who got hit. And now, he couldn’t even grace Levi with being a dick so he could vent his frustration.

Despite it all, Erwin actually tried again.

“I really am very sorry for what happened, Levi.”

“Die shitting, asshole.”

Outside Erwin’s taller friend choked out a laugh while Erwin’s hurt only grew. Then, something cracked in Erwin’s expression. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brows. His lips curled into a tight frown. When he opened them, arctic eyes were leering down at Levi bitterly.

“You… are a horrible person.” His voice now cold.

Levi opened is mouth, gaping in shock. “I’m a horrible person!?”

“Yes.” Erwin said with conviction.

“You hit me with a shoe!”

“Accidentally.” Erwin corrected. His sudden boldness was unexpected. “It’s not like I made a conscious decision to knock you unconscious. I’ve done nothing but apologize and offer my help.”

Erwin let out a frustrated sigh and plopped down in a seat across from Levi. That perfectly combed hair of his came a little loose. For a fraction of a second, Levi didn’t think Erwin looked so much like an idiot. But only for  a moment.

“I didn’t even want to come out here today.” Erwin mumbled to himself.

Levi watched Erwin; perhaps he’d been a little hard on him. He wasn’t about to let it show though. His face fucking hurt, it made it heart to hold anything other than a grimace. The pain made him remember that he blamed Erwin. The light was hurting to hurt his eyes and nausea swirled in his stomach. Damn. He probably did have a concussion.

Levi sighed. “Yeah… Yeah me neither.”

Erwin perked up a little,. His eyes look softer than before. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Levi gestured out to his friends. “They really wanted to come though.”

A small smile graced Erwin’s lip, and this felt more genuine than his apologies had been. “I suppose we have that in command at the very least.”

A quiet moment settled between them. Rage slowly burned out like dying embers on a fire. The pain, however, was much more persistent. Levi’s head and face continued to throb. The voices of the crowd still lingered in the air, and the heat was just terrible, even in the shade. Levi rested his head back on the gurney and eyed Erwin.   

“You really wanna help?” Levi asked.

Erwin perked up for a moment, listening to what Levi had to say.

“Take me to the hospital.”

“What?”

Levi gestured back to their friends. “Those four idiots still wanna run around. I can’t speak for yours but, I know mine won’t admit to it. They’re too damn polite.” He paused. “You don’t want to be here. I never wanted to be here. And, ambulances are fucking expensive.”

There was a glimmer in Erwin’s eyes. He was right. They both wanted out. this was that chance. There was now a playful mischievousness in him tone. “Even so, you could just have your friends take you. Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your day with the person that hit you with a shoe?”

Despite Levi’s glare, he answered. “He’s not so bad.”

[ultrakeystotheheartblog]

Rescue Me (Brett Talbot)

A/N: Hi! So, I am slowly getting back into the swing of things after a very busy and emotional year. It feels good to be back :) And like most people, I have indeed seen the latest Teen Wolf episode. 

Let me just say that I am LIVID about what happened to Brett. Neither of the siblings deserved any of THAT. So, to make myself and others feel better, I fixed the last five minutes of the episode. It’s really long cause I get carried away lol but I think it’s a proper goodbye to Brett’s character (while still setting up Gerard’s twisted lesson for further plot) and diminishes the stupidity of that death scene. I mean...A CAR JEFF DAVIS? WHAT. THE. HELL.

Anyway.....the reader is a werewolf in Scott’s pack and Brett is his sassy self. 

Enjoy :D 

(Y/N) = Your Name

Warnings: Slight swearing and violence. The usual with Teen Wolf, honestly.

*********************************************************

It was getting harder to keep the fear at bay. Each echoing step just seemed to spike your mounting anxiety, the sounds reverberating off the darkened tunnel walls made of exposed pipes and metal struts. It was like an itch that was impossible to scratch, an uneasiness dropping into the pit of your stomach as mere minutes felt as though they dragging towards hours. You whip around the next bend on the heels of your friends, your noise crinkling in distaste at the mingled scent of the musty stagnant puddles beneath your feet and the sickeningly sour smell of rot. To Liam's credit...the scent was getting stronger, but it was impossible to truly tell the direction it was coming from. Brett could be anywhere by now.

And so could the hunters.

As if on cue, Lori sighs in frustration and stops walking, seemingly on the same wavelength as you. "They all look the same, are you sure we're going the right way?" Liam nods with conviction, "I'm positive. I've gotten lost down here before, more than once." You barely manage to restrain yourself from snorting in laughter, glancing up and around at the high arch of the tunnel. You turn to Liam intending to try and lighten the mood, so that just maybe you wouldn't go crazy with worry. "Yeah, you know what? We should really start marking off paths or something down here. It would save a lot of time."

Liam rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore your comment, and instead gestures towards the end of the tunnel.

"Just follow the scent."

Lori lets out a another heated sigh, her mouth drooping into a grimace. "I hate that scent." She adds irritably.

"You and me both." You mutter more seriously. Lori huffs in impatience at the stalled progression of her brother's rescue and begins to stalk away, hands clenched tightly into fists by her sides. Yikes. You had a sinking feeling that this wasn't going to end well.

"Lori, slow down!"

When she doesn't stop or acknowledge that you'd spoken, you close your eyes to calm your rising annoyance and then jog towards her, your hand closing around her wrist to hold her back. She rounds on you with a fiery glare, your noses almost touching with how close the two of you were now standing. You stare her down unafraid, your voice low as you attempt to soothe her.

"We all have to be smart about this, okay? Move carefully. We have no clue knowing what else these hunters have set up throughout the tunnels."

"(Y/N) has a point." Liam chimes in from behind you.  

Lori narrows her eyes, wrenching her arm away from your touch. "Moving carefully takes time we don't have! Do either of you even care what happens to him?"

You step away from her in disbelief, mind reeling at the turn the conversation has suddenly taken. You don't stop yourself from reacting this time, snarling harshly at her in warning, "Of course I do!"

Her surprised expression immediately curbs your anger and you slowly exhale in defeat, watching as the look on her face dissolves away into one that was parts unsure and scared, remorseful and so...young. You had almost forgotten that she was only fifteen; with the way she carried herself around the others, the fierce attitude a smokescreen against the world, one she must of been clinging to so desperately this entire time. A kid who only wanted to find her brother. You reach out to take her hand more gently, her fingers tightening around yours like she had finally found an anchor in the open sea.

"We're going to find him, Lori." You murmur kindly. "I promise you. But let's try not to die before we do."

She nods in agreement. "Wait! I hear something." Liam cuts in excitedly, his head tilting slightly to the side as he continues to listen to something in the distance. "It sounds like-"

Lori's expression brightens, sounding hopeful. "A heartbeat." You hear it too, the thumping beat strong but sluggish. The three of you only glance at each other, before you find yourself running off in its direction against your better judgment, the rhythmic footfalls behind you signalling that Liam and Lori were right on your tail. You scurry around another bend, Lori passing you as you reach the end of another long tunnel, emerging into a small, hidden away juncture. Lori is quick to spot something to her right. "Brett!" Lori dashes towards her brother, practically throwing herself down next to him. You hang back for a moment before you begin to drift unconsciously closer to the siblings, your heart seized in a painful vice at the state of your friend. He had managed to keep himself somewhat upright against the decaying brick wall behind him, though his head is lolling slightly to one side, black blood leaking from his ears, mouth, and the inner corners of his eyes. 

The gooey liquid coats the skin down the sides of his face and neck, the sunken bags under his eyes looking bruised in the surrounding darkness, a medley of red and blue-back. He's pale and sweating, his hands covered in dry blood. A makeshift tourniquet, made from the material of his gym shorts, is wrapped tight around his shoulder, in order to constrict the blood flow to the puncture wound there. Brett looks up at Lori as she hovers over him, his face slack in exhaustion. He swallows hard, his tone a combination of incredulity and relief.

"You found the rocks?"  Lori laughs weakly, running her fingers through his hair in comfort. "Yeah, I found the rocks."  They smile at each other, Brett's expression both adoring and proud. Something unspoken passes between the siblings then. Reassurance, You think. Comfort. As you move to stand closer, Brett's eyes shift from his sister to stare at both you and Liam. He sounds confused and out of breath when finally speaks, eyebrows knitted together for a brief moment. "Liam? (Y/N)?"

You smile shyly at him, hating that you can clearly hear the tremble in your voice as you kneel next to him. "Hi, stranger. It's been a while."

Brett looks as though he's at long last seen a burning light in the darkness, a man caught content in its reach as he stares amazed into its radiance. "3 months." He responds in a daze. Your breath hitches at the awe in his voice and you blink away the coming tears, breaking the intense gaze to glance at Liam. He quickly moves in.

"Hey, we're going to get you out of here." He says firmly. He leans down to take Brett's hand, and with Lori's help, pulls him to his feet. She presses into his side to take the full weight of his body, and Brett forces out a strained reply, his voice breaking on the first word and then pitching higher in pain as he looks down at Liam. "You're a dumbass...for doing this." He wobbles, stumbling slightly against his sister as she slides an arms around his waist to help steady him. You move to Brett's other side and duck under his arm, to keep him from leaning too heavily on Lori. Liam raises on eyebrow.

"Is that your way of thanking me?" "No." Brett retorts sharply. He takes a deep breath and grinds his teeth together at a flare of pain, his tone sounding more annoyed than before. "That's my way of calling you a dumbass."

Brett tilts and sways for a second, his voice getting softer when he nods at Liam. "But thanks."

He turns to look down at you under his arm, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he leans down to rasp, "You came."

"Does that make me a dumbass too?" You ask half-jokingly, mindful of the wound in his shoulder as you shift to redistribute his weight between you and Lori. He winces but laughs softly despite the situation, his expression gentle.

"Never."

You press closer against his side without a word and look away from him, staring at the glinting pipes along the opposite wall. The guilt you felt earlier in the night returns, washing over you in a formidable swell of emotion. "I'm sorry." You utter quietly. When Brett doesn't respond you gather whatever courage is left and look back up at him, only to find that he is gazing back at you in absolute confusion. You hurry to elaborate, "I'm sorry I was late meeting you after practice, I didn't-I should've been there."

Brett shifts in your hold, grunting at Lori's protest, and faces you awkwardly. His hand lifts from your shoulder, floating up to tenderly touch the back of your neck, before he fully cups the back of your head. You stare up at him as he speaks.

"Hey, it's okay. What matters to me is that you're here."

Before his meaning can even fully sink in, Liam seems to sense something. He stiffens and turns slowly to look back up the tunnel you had just come from, an intense flash of a bright white light blinding you all. Startled, you blink fast and try to dispel the black spots jumping in your vision as the tunnel fills with smoke. You feel the siblings move back, Brett's grip on your arm forcing you to stumble back a few steps with them. "They're coming!" Lori exclaims in alarm. Liam glances at the three of you over his shoulder, the blue of his eyes sharp in the light. "Okay go, I'll hold them off."

"There is no way in hell I'm leaving you to fight alone, Liam."

There's a shrill whining sound that ruptures the silence of the tunnel as it ricochets along the piping. Brett groans, doubling over between you and Lori. Liam grits his teeth and covers an ear with one hand, waving at you and Lori frantically.

"Go, go!"

"Liam-" You try again.

"(Y/N) please! Brett might not last much longer." Lori cries desperately. You hesitate and look between her and Liam, Brett's hold on your arm still firm.

A fleeting thought clicks into place as you stare at her underneath her brother's arm, eyes wide in terror.  If there are other hunters she might not be able to fight them off by herself. Liam seems to follow your mindset, and he nods in reassurance.

"I'll be fine."

You dart back into place to help Lori shoulder Brett's tall frame, smoothly guiding him around to face a connecting tunnel you could escape through. "You better be. Or you'll never hear the end of it from me." You add over your shoulder, picking up speed until the three of you are rounding a bend into another tunnel, the reverberation of Liam's threatening roar following you. Brett is still doubled over, lagging behind you and Lori as you slide to a stop at another fork in the tunnels. 

Left or right? It takes you a moment to notice that there is a flash bolt in the wall ahead of you, twisted into the concrete and poking out from behind a pipe. The blinking blue-white light is accompanied by that piercing whine again . Brett finches at the sound of it and lifts his arm from around your shoulder to cover an ear with his hand, the black veins in his skin looking ghostly in the light. Lori winces and looks down both paths.

You firmly guide Brett's arm back around you, leaning close so he could hear you. "Brett....shhh hang on." Lori is in a panic now, veering the three of you towards the right path instead of the left. "Just a little further." She promises him quietly, her breath coming in short gasps. "We're almost out of here."

You don't like where this is going at all, feeling like an animal being herded into a trap, even as the smell of fresh crisp air wafts towards you from up ahead. You push back against Lori's momentum, Brett's body knocking callously back against her.

"Lori, I don't-"

She starts pressing forward again hastily, leaving no room for discussion. "Hurry."

The ladder to the surface appears in a few moments, and Lori's eyes excitedly follow the length of  it up. She turns to Brett, manoeuvring him forwards and helping his shaking hands find the metal rungs of the ladder. He shivers on contact and begins climbing up it first. Lori follows, barely registering Liam's echoing cry.

"Lori, wait!"

You pause with your foot on the bottom rung, fingers squeezing the rusted side rails until they creak lowly under the pressure. Liam?

Oh shit.

Brett uses what's left of his strength to nudge the sewer lid off at the top and clamber out in a flurry of flailing limbs, Lori reaching the top a second behind him. A rush of cool night air permeates the tunnels and you cough at the sudden change. Brett reaches down to take hold of Lori's arms, dragging her to her feet. 

You scramble up the ladder, launching your body onto the pavement just as Lori and Brett are darting across the road to try and reach the sidewalk, Brett's hand in Lori's. The bright light of an oncoming car blinks into existence and blinds them into a petrified state. They stiffen as if in a trance, frozen in fear as the light gets impossibly brighter. Brett closes his eyes, their hold on each other's hands tighten.

"Lori! Brett! MOVE!" You cry out, already on your feet and surging towards them before you finish your sentence.

You had always found it fun, being a werewolf. You were stronger and faster and never got sick, able to do what regular people found unimaginable. But with those abilities, time never quite moves the same as it once did. Instances that lasted only seconds to an outsider could stretch onwards to slow passing minutes. 

At the sound of your voice, Lori snaps out of her daze and throws herself back, yanking hard on Brett's hand. His tall figure goes to follow but he's still unbalanced on his feet and begins to tip the opposite way. You push yourself faster and slam into him, sending him toppling back in the right direction and on top of Lori, the both of them hitting the ground and rolling to the curb by the side of the road.

Your right hand slams onto the hood of the car as it finally makes contact, your entire arm shaking from the impact, the sound of cracking bone registering before the blinding pain flairs from your wrist and up into your shoulder. You push off the hood, using the momentum to hurl yourself over the top of the pickup truck, the grated silver front just barely tapping your hip as you twist. And then you're rolling down the back of the truck as the driver swerves, throwing you towards the road. 

You roll to a stop next to Lori and Brett, the hard blow of your limbs against the asphalt knocking the wind from your aching body. Lori had haphazardly tried to sit up, her posture slanting to one side, Brett already curled protectively against her, face pressed into her shoulder. You hiss in pain, dragging yourself onto your knees and cradling your damaged arm tight to your chest.

You can feel it healing already as the truck squeals to a stop a good few feet away, splinters of bone moving back in place under your skin until the pain begins to lessen, and you regain slight mobility. You look towards Lori and find she looks terrified and unbelievably shaken, body trembling as she reaches out for you, an angry gash open across the line of her forehead. 

You scoot towards them and encase her in a one armed hug, your other arm going around Brett's bowed figure as he groans in agony. Your hand gently slides up to the crook of his neck, your body wracked with a more intense wave of punching pain as your palm makes contact with his sweat slicked skin. Brett mummers in relief as you help to numb the anguish, his arm drifting around your body until his hand is pressed against the top of your back, sitting right between your shoulder blades. His fingers tangle in the fabric of your sweater and his grip tightens as he drags his face away from Lori's shoulder to look at you, eyes unfocused in the light of the truck's headlights.

Before he can say anything, a roar rips through the night, long, carnal, and angry. You feel the skin of your neck tingle at the sound and turn to gape at a wolfed out Liam standing in the middle of the road. His jagged teeth gleam in his parted mouth from the pickup's headlights. He sees you and the siblings huddled together and begins to head towards you, golden eyes blazing with concern. Liam doesn't get very far though, before a handful of cars pull up to surround him, the dazzling lights startling him. He shakes his head vigorously, trying to regain his composure. A man steps out of the dark pickup truck, the hood of which is obviously dented, and stares down Liam, eyes piercing as they study him. There are more people on the street now, fearfully gasping and whispering to each other. People start to drift closer or back away at the sight of Liam's appearance, a woman going as far as getting out of her car to stare. Liam looks around wildly in confusion.

You struggle to get both Lori and Brett into an upright position, calling to Liam distraughtly. "Liam! Help me, we have to move them."

He focuses on you through the panic and is by your side before you can blink. You both try and get the siblings to their feet, ignoring the voices swirling around you, the lights of the cars washing over you like prison spotlights. You stagger with them, trying to distribute their combined weight between you and Liam as equally as you could, heading towards an opening between the pickup and another car. The old lady inside the driver's seat cowers as you near her. The man with the piercing eyes follows you with his gaze, until the four of you turn the street corner and disappear from the scene.

************************************

"Yeah, we're just waiting now."

His voice draws you back from the drowsy abyss you had begun to tip into, the sudden jerk into reality making your head spin. You look up from staring at the tiled hospital floor, after images of bright white squares burned briefly into your vision as you focus on Liam. He's seated beside you, legs pulled up to his chest, and he glances at you before pressing his cell phone flush to his ear. "What about you? Are you okay?" He asks in a rush.

The voice on the other end is slightly distorted due to the crackling of Liam's phone service, a curse of staying on the bottom floor of Beacon Hills Memorial, but you can still very clearly follow the conversation. "-fine. I've already healed, good as new. Keep me updated though, alright? And tell (Y/N) to call me later. We need to talk about what happened tonight."

You smile and lean towards Liam so you can loudly proclaim, "I can hear you, Scott. I will."

"(Y/N) said-"

"I heard, Liam." Scott sounds amused, his voice warm and comforting. Liam looks embarrassed for a moment, but shakes it off, his eyes darting to you. You pat his knee in reassurance and he takes a deep breath, face drained of energy as he slumps back against the wall. You felt the exhaustion too, like a heavy blanket swaddled around your body. You had all had a long night and next to no sleep, the sun set to finally rise in a few hours. It was understandable to be a little out of it.

"Right..." Liam says, lowering the phone so it was between the two of you.

Scott chuckles, "Talk to the both of you soon."

The sound of footsteps comes from your left. You look up to see Lori strolling back towards you both, her cell phone disappearing into her back jean pocket.

"Bye, Scott." You return quickly. Liam hangs up and lays his phone in his lap, scooting to the side to let Lori squeeze in between you and him. She plops down with a groan, leaning over to rest her head against your shoulder. Her hair is wet from taking a shower on the second floor, the smell of iris and lily drifting up to reach your nose. You nudge her gently.

"Hey....what's the verdict?"

"She's on her way, said she's coming straight to the hospital."

Liam yawns, "How'd she sound? Mad?"

Lori sniffs, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Tired," She answers with a sigh, "Just....tired."

The door across from you swings open, Melissa McCall and Chris Argent emerging from the room. You all shoot up in tandem, Lori already on her feet before they can say anything. Melissa smiles kindly, reaching behind her to keep the door from closing. She looks down both directions of the hall to make sure you were all alone.

"He's okay, he's okay." She says calmly, gesturing for Lori to come closer. "I think it's safe to say he'll make a full recovery."

Chris moves to the side, hands crossed across his chest, and inclines his head towards the room. "He's awake if you want to go see him." He adds.

Lori beams, dashing forwards to throw her arms around Melissa's middle, her exclamation muffled in her chest. "Thank you!" Melissa squeezes her back with a look of surprise and Lori is quick to pull away, slipping into the room as you watch with a grin. Liam sighs in relief, slouching back to his previous position, and nods towards Melissa and Chris in thanks.

"Thank you." You verbalize for him.

Melissa smiles again, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the elevators, which waited just down the hall to your left. "We'll be just around the corner if you needs us." She says as they turn and begin to walk away.

You shift to face Liam, "Are you going in?"

He thinks for a moment and then shakes his head, stretching his arms over his head with a satisfied groan. He glances at the partly open door. "Nah, not yet, I'll....give them a few minutes first. You?"

You lounge back, staring up at the stark ceiling.

"Yeah, in a few minutes." You agree.

************************************

It's about three hours later when you find him lounging in the hospital parking lot, his back to you as he looks out over the horizon. He's wearing Chris' jacket and you watch him for a moment, admiring his tall figure. Pinks, purples, and oranges swell across the sky until they seem to set the clouds on fire in streaks of golden light. You see Liam and Lori talking to Satomi across the lot, the dark green car behind her idling in its parking  space. You take a deep breath, heart fluttering in your chest, and continue towards him.

"Looks like you're leaving, huh?"

Brett turns at the sound of your voice, hands slipping out of the jacket's pockets to hang down at his sides. He smiles, taking a step towards you. "Yep, looks like it." He leans in to add, "I don't think Satomi is ever going to let us come back here. Maybe not for a long time at least." He nods his head ever so slightly and you follow the gesture. Satomi waves at you can across the parking lot. You lift your hand to wave back.

"I get that. It's not the safest place." You say slowly, turning your attention back to him. Brett rolls his eyes, but smirks.

"Understatment. But if you really think about it...what place is?"

You pretend to think about it, rocking on your heels and kicking at the little pebbles on the asphalt. They scatter beneath you. "That's an interesting way to look at it." You eventually say.

"I'm just interesting period."

You snicker, "Cocky. Even for you."

"When is he not?"

You both turn at the new voice and Brett slips his hands back into the jacket's pockets, shying away from how close you two had gotten. He acknowledges him with a nod.

"Liam."  

"Brett," Liam counters.

Lori comes to join the forming circle, standing beside her brother. She glances between the boys with a incredulous look when she realizes that they had gone silent. "What, that's it?"

Brett shrugs but bumps his elbow against Liam's arm. His lips quirk up into a teasing smirk. "Is that your way of telling me goodbye, Dunbar?"

Liam sputters, "No!"

He huffs in annoyance, rolling his shoulders as he composes himself. "This is."  He replies, his tone undulating with professionalism. He straightens up to his full height, which wasn't much compared to Brett, and holds out his hand. Brett raises on eyebrow but takes Liam's offered hand, shaking it stiffly, once up and down.

"So formal."

"Can you be nice to me for once in your life?"

Brett laughs, but then seems to sombre up, awkwardly clearing his throat as you all stare at him in confusion. "Thank you, Liam."

"For what?"

Liam sounds surprised at the pleasant sentiment, glancing to you in uncertainty. You simply shrug. Brett has an intense look in his eyes now, his expression oddly sincere as he drops a hand onto Liam's shoulder.

"For being my friend."

"....you too."

Lori smiles at the sweet exchange, sparing a fleeting look back at Satomi who was still leaning against the car, eyes trained on the tiny blackbirds hopping branches in the trees near the hospital. "And while we're on the topic of thank yous-" She starts, reaching out to take both your hand and Liam's. "-thank you. For bringing my brother back to me."

You pull her into a hug, hoping she doesn't hear the tiny catch in your voice as you enclose your arms around her tightly.

"Stay safe out there, Lori."

"I will." She mumbles into your shoulder.

Brett throws an arm around Lori when you let her go, squeezing her into a lazy hug. "We both will." He promises.

There's a pointed silence that descends over the group, and both Liam and Lori glance at each other. Lori shakes herself free from Brett's arm and starts to back away, sensing she should probably give you and Brett some privacy to say goodbye. She drags Liam by his jacket sleeve and he follows without a word. They wander away only a few feet and a little too causally, peeking at you both as they mill about near the entrance of the hospital.

You feel your face getting warm and drift closer to him, whispering lowly. "They're watching us and pretending not too."

Brett scoffs and shifts, so he can longer see them in his peripheral vision. "Amateurs." He mutters.

There is another awkward pause and Brett watches you carefully, his hand brushing against yours in a feather light touch. "So." He begins.

"So."

Brett winces, "I uh-I'm not the best with saying goodbye."

You nod in understanding, staring up at him as you slip your hand into his. His fingers flex around yours and you can't seem to find the will to care when you answer him in a breathless manner. "Then don't."

Brett takes a moment to think, his thumb ghosting over the back of your hand. He sounds just as wrecked when he dips his head down a fraction, eyes never leaving yours.

"I hope I see you again."

You feel your mouth beginning to tremble, and you press your free hand to your cheek, the skin wet beneath your palm. When had you started crying? "Well, damn look at me...I don't think I'm very good at saying goodbye either." You say with a weak laugh.

Brett furrows his eyebrows and slowly, he's leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. He lingers, his breath fanning over your face, the smell of spearmint making you shiver. He pulls away to gage your reaction, your eyes fluttering open to stare at him. He smiles, and you find yourself leaning forward to hug him, your arms looping around his neck. Brett's hands fall to the small of your back, his touch warm even through the fabric of your sweater. You manage to choke something out at last, as Brett touches another light kiss against the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

"Good luck, Brett"

He pulls away when the sound of a car door punctures the moment, and you see that Liam is already strolling back towards you alone. Brett sighs when he notices that Satomi is waving him over, and he squeezes your hand before turning away. Halfway to the car he slows and calls over his shoulder, the words meant to leave things on a lighter note.

"Oh Liam! Tell Mason that I'll miss having him around."

Liam laughs, "Oh, he'll love that."

You cup a hand over your mouth to unnecessarily bellow, "Keep in touch!"

Brett spins to face you, walking backwards with a grace that only something supernatural could achieve. He's smirking as he hollers back.

"Of course! I have friends here in Beacon Hills. I'll have to check in and make sure they're still functioning without me." He winks as he reaches the car, "See you guys around."

The sun is rising into its rightful place in the sky as their car backs out of the parking space, circling around in a wide U-turn and then disappearing from the lot. You and Liam watch them pull onto the main road, until the car becomes nothing but a dark smudge in the distance. Liam is sulking when you look at him, and you cock an eyebrow in question. He sounds faintly annoyed as he elaborates, but you could tell he wasn't seriously upset.

"He's unbelievable."

"Aw, you love it."

"So do you." Liam reminds you, looking quite pleased with his comeback.

Fair enough, you think. You don't answer him though, draping your arm across his shoulders instead. "Ready to go, Liam?"

He draws out a dramatic sigh into the morning air, "You mean dive head first back into the crazy? Sure, why not."

You grin.

"We'll be okay. Just wait and see."