#and im not just talking about the cover they did but like dance fever is the same vibe

[schibi12]

Florence + The Machine is so Yellowjackets coded

[silastheanon]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AXIS!!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!! IM SO HAPPY I GET TO BE YOUR FRIEND @professionallydeadinside

HERES YOUR BIRTHDAY GIFT!!!!

Three children, once loved and meant to live, cursed to die by something cursed in his own existence.

The eldest, named Evelyn, tormented in pain. The twins, Alexander and Alexandra, one dead and one cursed.

Three children, now one.

____________________

I’ve been in my room for a long time, now. I’ve read almost all my books, and there isn’t much to write about. I can see birds from my window, though.

They sing pretty. I like the sounds they make. There’s an owl that comes by too, sometimes. I looked in my books, and one of them describes owl breeds! I got super lucky with that. I think it’s a saw-whet owl! They usually don’t come this far East. It’s very pretty, and its hoot sounds like a saw.

That’s why it’s called a saw-whet owl. I think that’s really cool.

____________________

I miss my brother and sister. I miss my mom and dad.

I’m sick of this fever.

____________________

What does a jackfruit taste like? I just read about it, I’ve started reading cookbooks now that I don’t have much else to do, and I wonder what it tastes like? Does it taste like a ‘jack’? What does a jack taste like?

Or, was it discovered by someone named Jack? Is Jack proud to have a fruit named after him.

I’d be proud if there was a fruit named after me. Something like Alexandrafruit. Yeah, that’d be cool.

First, I just have to get out of this room.

____________________

Do dogs talk to each other? Do they talk to cats? I want a dog. Or a cat. Or a rat.

Or a friend.

____________________

I wonder how Evelyn and Alexander are doing. I hope they’re happy.

I bet they’re running through fields and dancing and laughing. I bet they go out every night onto the roof and see the stars. Maybe they’ve tasted a jackfruit! They swim in rivers, too! They get sunburns and play in the snow. They’ve been hit by snowballs and have fallen down and have played sports.

I’m glad. They’re happy, so I’m happy!

____________________

I’ve decided to name the saw-whet owl. I can’t tell if it’s a boy or a girl, so I’m going to call it Briar, like the plant. I wish I could leave food out for it.

Maybe I’ll ask the servants to bring me some extra.

____________________

There’s something at the foot of my bed.

It doesn’t move, doesn’t do much, it just stands there. I can’t tell if he’s real.

____________________

Owls have meaning. They mean insight, wisdom, and something else, but the book is too faded there for me to read. I hope it’s happiness.

____________________

Do other kids hurt? Does their skin feel like sandpaper? Do their throats never stop aching? Are they ever comfortable, not fighting between freezing and burning? Can they rest easy?

Do they suffer, too?

____________________

The servants won’t bring me any extra food. They say I shouldn’t waste it on owls, that there isn’t enough to waste.

Yet, I see more and more soldiers out in the square every day.

____________________

The thing at the foot of the bed. He’s back, but not at the bed.

He’s in the closet, now. I can see his eyes. They glow green.

He doesn’t talk. He just watches me. He doesn’t move. He just watches.

That’s all he does.

Watches.

____________________

I can’t remember Mama’s voice.

____________________

What did Alexander look like?

____________________

Who is Evelyn?

____________________

Does the sun get lonely? It’s up in the sky all day, and there isn’t anything else up there. The moon has the stars, so it isn’t lonely, but does the sun get sad and lonely?

I guess it has the clouds, though. Maybe when they cover the sun, they’re actually hugging the sun.

That makes me happy. I’m glad the sun has friends.

____________________

He doesn’t stay in one spot, when he comes to me.

Sometimes, he’s back at the foot of the bed. Sometimes, he’s in the closet, and all I can see are his eyes, watching me. Other times, he’s in the corner of the room.

Some nights, he leans over me. I don’t think he breathes.

____________________

Briar’s visiting me more often, now. I don’t know why, but I’m happy.

I wish others would visit me, too.

____________________

I’m hot, I’m burning, I am aflame. I am nothing but pain, little but the rash that consumes me, barely more than an aching throat and rough skin and burning, burning, burning heat.

He is above me, simply watching me scream.

____________________

Briar has begun pecking at the window. There are other birds with it, too. Black birds, big and mighty, and I can just see roosters below on the square, but they only ever call at night. Maybe they call for the rats and bats that come out at night. They need woken up, too.

There was even a sparrow.

____________________

He’s started talking to me.

I can’t understand him, but I can hear him. He whispers.

He whispers.

____________________

My bed is uncomfortable. My feet hurt. My back aches.

I want to run. I want to jump.

I want to die.

____________________

He whispers. He stands closer to me, now.

Some nights, he reaches out. He’ll stroke my hand, or my forehead, or just rest a hand on my chest.

It stops burning when he does that. His touch soothes the fever, soothes the rash. He doesn’t recoil from the feel of sandpaper skin.

I am grateful for that.

____________________

There are more swallows. They just sit and watch me. They’re pretty.

Briar is prettier.

____________________

If he were to hug me, would all of me be soothed? Would I be healed?

____________________

The window lock is old. If I were to open it, I could let Briar in.

I could go through it. I could finally jump, like other kids do.

____________________

I asked him what his name was. He didn’t answer me. He just held his hand to my forehead.

It was nice.

____________________

The doctors say I’m getting better. They don’t listen when I say the fever burns stronger, that it melts skin from my bone. They don’t listen when I say my skin is rougher than brick, that my throat is raw and bleeding even though I can’t see it.

They don’t listen.

____________________

Galante.

His name is Galante.

____________________

The sparrows left. The mighty black birds left. None of the birds return, except for Briar.

I wonder what that means.

____________________

I can hear him better, now. He doesn’t whisper as quietly anymore. Galante tells me he knows how to help me, but I must wait until he can tell me. He says it will only work when the fever is low enough.

I hope it goes down enough for him to help me.

____________________

Briar’s gone. They’ve been gone for a while, longer than before. I don’t think they’ll be coming back.

____________________

I’m going to die.

____________________

Did Alexander have dark hair? Did he have long hair? Did he look like Mama?

I can’t remember.

____________________

The burning, the burning, the blistering pain. It’s going to kill me. The writhing, it doesn’t help, nothing helps. Screaming only rips my throat, only makes my lungs burn as bad as my flesh. My stone flesh, my flesh of sandpaper, of bricks and rough things.

I am going to die.

There are birds at the window, again. Briar and the sparrows and the mighty black birds. They’re beating against the window, cawing screams that never stop. Or are those my own?

Galante is there. He is watching me. He is breathing in. I’ve never seen him breathe before.

He is speaking.

____________________

Galante made me an offer. I will live, but I must go to my brother.

I’ve forgotten what he looks like, what he sounds like.

Alexander looks peaceful in sleep. He doesn’t suffer, doesn’t know burning pain, stone skin, rotting throat like I do. He is peaceful.

I am next to him.

We are both peaceful.

____________________

The birds are gone, for forever. They have no more to do.

They have no soul to take.

____________________

My body is ash, but I remain. I am in his body, his mind no more, only mine. Galante tells me what to do.

He tells me to take the dust of Alexandra and take it to Evelyn, my eldest sister. I did not remember that. I did not know there were more than Alexander. Galante says she’s my sister, so I believe him.

I put the ashes, the dust of my pain and my brick flesh, in her fireplace. I scream, and she is taken away.

She killed Alexandra in a fit of rage, and burned her.

No one asks how she got in the room, or why there wasn’t any fight.

____________________

Evelyn is gone, my flesh burnt and dust, and Alexander’s body is all that remains, my mind inside it. I am excited to live, to run and dance and shout.

It was not to be.

____________________

He is a liar. Galante is a liar.

I am not in control.

He commands me.

____________________

My parents are gone.

They are sick in a way worse than I was. Galante killed them, made them sick with dead water and food.

I am all that’s left.

____________________

There is a prince in a kingdom far off, who kills those he loves. Or, he kills those that love him.

Are his sins worse than mine? Or mine worse than his?

Or are we the same?

____________________

Galante is making the world burn, through my body, It is ablaze, aflame, burning worse than my fever, burning worse than my flesh, than my throat.

He is destroying the world, and I cannot do anything but watch, and plead, a little voice in a dead mind.

____________________

There were three children.

Three children, once loved and cherished, now cursed to die by one cursed himself.

The eldest, Evelyn, shipped away and dead at her own hand. The twins, Alexander and Alexandra, never to part again.

Three children.

Now one.

[heartofholland]

tom recs <3

hi guys! here is a fic rec list i made of all the fics i’ve loved. personally, i consider myself an avid fic reader so i have read a shit ton of fics. these are just my highlights. let me know if you want more like this! and if you do end up reading any of these please make sure you REBLOG them to spread the goodness. these writers work their ass off and deserve all the credit in the world. enjoy! <3

SERIES

riding my by @worldoftom this fic is barely started but i love everything this writer puts out. very smutty, very hot. innocence kink check!

breaking curfew by @wazzupmrstark ASSHOLE TOM! my weakness. enemies to lovers but make it FWB. what I wish my summer camp was like instead of my thighs sticking to chairs and lice outbreaks.

eighteen by @angelic-holland corruption/innocence kink! basically all smut but damn do i want bad boy tom.

the situationship by @fairytelling can’t say enough about this fic. the definition of falling in love with your best friend. if my relationship isn’t like this i don’t want it.

happiness is a butterfly by @blissfulparker soft mob!tom and they’re forbidden soulmates! updates are WELL worth the wait!

i only feel you by @stuckonspidey the first time i read my watch thought i was working out for how high my heart rate was. shit keeps you on your toes. there is a sequel fic but just a heads up you will want to unstan tom on multiple occasions.

make me love you by @mrs-hollandstan frat boy player tom turned soft. mans does a whole 180. fuck dom.

perfidy by @peeterparkr couldn’t be more obsessed with this fic. they’re both so fucking stupid but too afraid to get hurt. also the social media posts are so fucking cute and crucial to the story 

eloped by @worldoftom getting married to tom in the most beautiful vacation spot? sign me the fuck up

you. by @txmhoelland i think there’s definely worse men to be set up with as a PR stunt.

erotas by @farfromparker i have definely read this fic for more days than i’ve been on this earth but every time i lose my goddamn mind

dare you to move by @starksparker-archive the best version of FWB tom is when you’re his roommate…

gone by @dahliaspidey this one… hurts. but i just know it will bounce back.

take me out by @angelic-holland warning this one is really dark. like serial killers. but it was so fascinating i am completely obsessed with the psychology of it all. jake is featured and please don’t imagine the mr. music the entire time like i did </3

single all the way by @heyhihellowhatsup0 i read this whenever i need a lil christmas pick me up

sweetener by @keepingupwiththeparkers cute awkward relationship. it is so real i feel like it could actually happen to me.

ex on the beach by @heyhihellowhatsup0 THE ANGST GIVES ME LIFE

SMUT

bartender by @t-o-m-holland tom happens to own your favorite bar. your subtle flirts aren’t working. the banter between reader and the fam makes me wish i didn't have social anxiety.

siren by @rosyparkers don’t get me wrong i will scream ACAB til the day i die but police officer tom could definitely get it.

best of three by @mrs-hollandstan one of the 3000 threesome fics i have saved. imagine not getting one of the hottest men but TWO.

roommates by @hollandbaby what a coincidence we both want to fuck each other! this checks all the kinks my man. i’ve read this probably no less than 100 times.  

that was that by @moorehollandplz dom!tom but something flips and he’s never been more gentle. mans got both sides of the playing field covered.

know your enemy by @angelic-holland short but sweet. hate sex is always hotter behind the scenes.

wasabi by @angelic-holland literally everything about alice is phenomenal but this is on of my faves. when i read this it makes me feel smarter. also body shots.

say good night by @madmadmilk this writers work never fails to blow me away but this time she managed to encapsulate my entire life. (minus the execution with a very hot and experienced best friend).

buwygf-ib by @hholyholland just ignore tomdaya for a sec and take in the hottest dom!tom i’ve ever witnessed.

cocky by @sykoxartist yeah he’s an asshole but he’s your asshole. at least that’s what he thinks.

sovereign by @farfromparker sub!tom is so hot. man will beg for DAYS.

summer vacation by @kidney9-9  when is hate sex ever like…. not hot as fuck?

ride by @tomhollandsstan face riding. period.

coincidence by @starshinebucky actor!reader and tom fuck… at least they’ll have good chemistry next time.

skin by @hollandbaby dom!tom is not ok with being a sub. unless it’s for you.

you can bet on it by @kiwi-bitchez all of this writers smut makes my pussy throb. this is my fave. just wait for the twist.

a rose blooms by @cornacopicimagines prince!tom drives me wild. but wait til he finds out you’re not a virgin.

begging by @raewritesfiction tom makes you beg for it.

self reflection by @stuckonspidey this is actual proof tom has a praise kink.

minor inconvenience by @angel-spidey toms an idiot but at least he can get you off.

flesh by @starshinebucky cocky tom kills me.

keeping him nice and warm by @marvelouspeterparker mob!tom the gif itself to sends me.

after hours by @cornacopicimagines never had sexual tension with a teacher but this will do.

ANGST

josslyn by @multiharlot messy situation but reader handles it like a champ. if your heart isn’t broken enough, the last line will make sure it’s unfixable for days on end.  

moral of the story by @kelieah listen to the song while you’re at it to make your cry sesh take a turn for the worst. 

cherry by @xoluvx this one hurts real bad. so does the song. 

a complicated love story by @samhollandssweaters an emotional rollercoaster for real.

he dies in the end by @allfandomxreader ignore the title and just cry your eyes out with me.

eighteen by @fancyxholland you’ll be confused why it’s in the angst category but trust me.

all the lies by @peteywillproceed getting cheated on but the girl is toms gf, how do you tell him. 

memories by @nycparkers i sob to this whenever i need a good cry. 

don’t be a fool by @nycparkers breakups that dont end messily make me so fucking jealous.

FLUFF

kiss currency by @madmadmilk borderline smut. confused and oblivious harrison. dialogue inspires me to talk to males.  

plank all over me by @waitimcomingtoo FILRTY TOM! THE BANTER! i really am a whore for well written dialogue. there’s additional parts but i won’t spoil.

 playing cupid by @marvelobsessedteenager you set everyone else up but wait a damn minute how did you forget about tom?

 little flirt by @webslinger-holland oh to flirt with tom while he’s sweaty from intensely dancing for the lip sync battle.

pour it out by @rhapsodyparker i don’t know what it is but famous!reader going on talk shows or having interviews and they ask the reader cheeky questions about tom might be one of my many kinks…

hubby by @t-holland2080 it’s the small things that make me want to bawl my eyes out for being so lonely.

going live by @redrebecca the dialogue makes me cry of happiness! tom doing a live (what a concept).

paddy’s crush by @tom-holland-is-spiderman jealous tom but of his younger brother.

 wannabe by @sailingintothenight the cliffhanger at the end demands a second part.

flawless by @missnxthingg  tom is a simp.

you and me by @sunshinehollandd best friend tom makes me soft.

dick appointments. web shooters. the duality of a man. by @porterporker  it gets a lil steamy but man is “web shooter” a funny name for a dick.

best day by @thollandss dad!tom gives me baby fever even though i am a virg.

 tom asks your dad by @blissfulparker can i just skip through the bad boyfriends and just marry the love of my life already.

baked chicken by @waitimcomingtoo there isn’t a category for awkward but if there was this would be in it.

lover boy by @starshinebucky  tom being so oblivious you like him that you need to call for backup.

afterglow by @wickedholland i wish someone would treat me like this when im drunk instead of leaving me to hold my own hair back.

[dr3amofagame]

hey pspsps i found this thing n twitter and i cant get it out of my head,, so dreams escape right? and sapnap said that he'd be the one who'd take dreams last life rgiht? so imagine if he gets ant, bad and george and tells them "its the final manhunt" (:

im ngl the name of this on my document was “the final manhunt *offkey kazoo*” 

with that, have some good ol’ post-prison c!dream angst! probably not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway :D 

tw: implied torture, abuse, dark portrayals of c!sam and c!quackity, suicide/suicide implications, panic attacks, emotional distress, emotional instability, death threats, violence, flashbacks, pandora’s vault/prison arc

When Dream escapes the prison, he is a frothing thing of spite and rage, one part human and ninety-nine parts determination simmered and condensed over high heat; there is anger and then there’s this, the fire that leaps to his eyes and the shaking shreds of a battered heart he holds close to his chest and refuses to let anyone close enough to see. He moves and the server moves with him, tugged along by his iron will and sweat-slick desperation, joining in the brilliant blue whirl of a diamond axe swung recklessly and slammed into the dirt, an aimless fury following each formless drive of the blade into grass and gravel. The air sings danger and the air sings wrong and every step closer brings a ringing scream of away away go away that dances like static electricity against their skin.

Puffy follows, cutlass strapped to her hip and hair tucked messily beneath the rim of her cornet as the group advances - someone had alerted over comms about seeing the escaped prisoner in this direction, and they’d all jumped forward in the hopes that the weeks-long manhunt could finally be ended. Sapnap leads the way, headband whipping behind him as he strides forward, jaw clenched in fierce determination; George brings up the rear, bow in hand, a full quiver of arrows strapped to his back. Puffy’s running alongside Sam, who has been strangely tight-lipped the entire time Dream has been gone, firm in his insistence that the prisoner be detained but saying little else - it’s something that she would pry at, usually, but her head is filled with half-formed regrets and fears and a bubbling undercurrent of anger she’s afraid will come loose if she opens her mouth, so she stays silent as they run ever forward.

Sapnap yells, and her head snaps up - there, in the tall grass of a plains biome lies a flash of orange that must be Dream. The hunters around her speed up and she strains to follow; the other three are clearly experienced, easily falling into step with each other as she scrambles to keep up. Dream’s head snaps over towards them and he begins to sprint, cutting a line through the yellow field as they race to follow. She’s not seen him since the prison break, has only heard the whispers- an orange clothed monster, all bones and skin and uncaged fury, a diamond axe heaved in his arms slamming against anything that comes too close. It’s hard to rationalize this untamed, unrefined dash to the unwavering calm that she had always associated with his style of fighting, his movements much more like the life-or-death escape of a hunted rabbit than any hunter’s dog. It’s hard to rationalize this Dream with the one she knows- but well, she’s gotten used to that.

It took her far too long to admit, but she’s come to realize that she doesn’t quite know Dream at all.

He leads them forward to the shorter grass and harsher dips and planes of a savannah, the sun beating down in slanting heat against the backs of their necks. The ground they’re standing on begins to shatter into steep cliffs and jagged mountains, rough edges of stone climbing into the sky all around them. Sapnap curses, shading his eyes against the sun.

“He’s going up there,” he says, and George sends arrows flying towards the orange dot blurring across the steep face of a nearby mountain. Sam grumbles as Puffy strains to catch sight of him, watching his scrambling movements up the cliff face to the top.

“Then we follow,” he says, pulling a stack of ender pearls from his inventory. “Each person take a few. We’re too close to lose him now.”

The climb is anything but pleasant, the sun right overhead and making sweat gather at her hairline and drip down her face. Even as a sheep hybrid, she struggles to keep pace with the other hunters as they race over thin paths of granite and clamber up near-vertical faces of stone with little problem, clearly practiced as they follow Dream without breaking their sprint. The rock gives way to dirt and tufts of short-shorn grass and Sapnap’s eyes flash.

“Be careful,” he says, looking straight at her. “He’s cornered - that’s when he does risky shit without thinking about the consequences. He knows you’re the least experienced here and there’s a good chance that he’s going to charge you. If that happens, hold your shield and just block. We’ll handle him from there.”

She swallows back the spark of indignation that rises at his words, a bitter scream that they only see her as a liability dying out as she reminds herself that these three had hunted Dream professionally before, had struggled even with two more at their sides. The caution is far from unwarranted.

“I understand.”

Sapnap nods tersely and looks to the other two with a hand movement that she doesn’t understand. The other two immediately start moving, Sam moving to the front, George nocking an arrow as he takes his place at the rear - they’re still shielding her, she realizes with a small spike of annoyance again, shaking her head and drawing her own cutlass as Sapnap leads the way for them to swing up onto the top of the mountain.

It takes her a moment to adjust; the wind, unhindered by the cliffs that had been shielding them seconds before, whips at her face and draws tears to her eyes, makes her hair fly wildly into her face. Through narrowed eyes, she watches as the figure on the other side of the mountaintop scrambles backwards, diamond axe braced in front of him as he backs to the opposite edge.

“Dream,” Sapnap calls, voice deadly calm. “You’re cornered. Stand down.”

Dream shakes his head, lips curling in a wordless snarl. The sound is desperate, almost inhuman, making Puffy’s hair stand on end. As her vision clears, she stops dead in her tracks despite herself - Dream looks awful. She’d expected him to look disheveled after his escape, hadn’t expected much comfort in his stay in the Vault, but the way he looks, now, hollow eyes and gaunt cheeks and skinny, shaking limbs that only barely seem to be able to hold up his weight, bandages covering every visible inch of skin, wrapped messily around his right arm as if done by one hand - she reaches forward unconsciously and Dream flinches back.

“Don’t-” his voice rasps, cracks, falls in on itself as he wets his lips to try and speak again. “Don’t come closer.”

“Prisoner,” Sam growls, stepping forward, and he turns those wild, fever-bright eyes towards the creeper hybrid, flailing backwards and knuckles white from the grip on his axe. His breathing visibly hitches, head whipping back and forth.

“Don’t come closer,” he hisses again, stepping back, and Puffy stills.

“Sam-” she grabs his sleeve. “Sam- don’t. He’s at the edge.”

Dream’s gaze swings to her, and her heart stutters at the uncaged, obvious fear raging in his eyes. He’s backed to the very back edge of the mountain they’re standing on, left foot halfway off, sending dirt skidding over and off of the cliff down down down to the ground hundreds of feet below. The three hunters stop, muscles tensed, and Dream bares his teeth at them but doesn’t back away further.

His shoulders sag as they stand, stagnant, each huddled on their own side of the mountaintop. His gaze is venomous, green eyes burning even in the glaring light of the sun, flicking warily between their faces as he holds the axe between them.

“So you came,” his voice is tight, a slight tremble pulling at the end despite his seeming bravado. “Here to finish the job, huh?”

Sapnap pulls back his shoulders. “I made a promise, Dream.”

Dream laughs, bitter. His left hand releases on the axe handle to come to his chest, grabbing at his right, looking almost like he’s trying to hold himself. His laughter tapers off into something weak and wrecked, and the sound makes Puffy’s heart clench uncomfortably in her chest.

“Figures you’d keep that one,” his head tips up, looking Sapnap in the eye. “What- did your fiance give up? The revive book not worth the effort anymore?”

Sapnap hisses. “Don’t bring Karl into this-”

“Karl?” Dream’s eyes flash, grip tightening on his upper arm. “No- what? Why-”

“Dream.” Sam’s voice is low, something dark buzzing behind his tone, “Don’t-”

Puffy interrupts him with a hand to his shoulder, stepping forward and freezing mid-step when Dream’s head whips to her, eyes widening and foot scraping against the edge of the cliff again.

“Sapnap, Sam, let him talk,” she levels her gaze at Dream, trying to pick out the emotions warring behind those brilliant green eyes. “Not Karl- you’re talking about Quackity then, right?”

Sam hisses, “Puffy, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

Dream laughs.

The sound is grating, awful, making her hands come to her ears. It rips through skin, wraps around bone, seeps into marrow - he’s laughing, axe disappearing into his inventory so he can clutch his face with both hands, the loose sleeves of his prison uniform falling to his elbows to reveal the bandages wrapping all the way up his forearms and disappearing further under the fabric. In front of her, Sapnap falters, grip on his sword loosening; George steps back, eyebrows wrinkled, bow lowering. Dream laughs like the world is ending, and some cold, hardened thing in her chest shatters at the sound.

“You know,” his hands claw at his hair, wrapping around the strands and pulling, “You know you know you know- you have to know. How-” He shakes his head, tugging at his hair harshly and making Puffy wince at the sight, “Don’t- don’t play stupid here.”

“Know what?” George reaches forward, hands empty, palms up like he’s approaching an injured dog. From the way Dream snaps at the sound, hackles raised and teeth bared, he might as well be one. “Dream, what are you talking about?”

Sapnap looks stricken, still, face clouded in a way that Puffy can’t decipher. “Q- don’t play your mind games here, Dream,” despite his words, he sounds uncertain. Puffy hasn’t seen Quackity around for a while, had thought that he was staying at Sapnap and Karl’s new place. From the way Sapnap’s eyes have darkened, it looks like she assumed wrong. “Quackity hasn’t even been around, what does he have to do with any of this?”

Dream shakes his head again, seemingly stuck in his own head, barely even responding to their words. “You know- you know you know you know- Sam knows- you-” His breath hitches, chest heaving, and Puffy blinks. He’s having a panic attack, a clinical, much more calm part of her says as Dream seems to collapse in on himself. “You know. You have to know he wouldn’t- nobody came if you didn’t know then why didn’t you come if you didn’t know then why did Sam let him in you know you know you know-”

“Sam?” George turns to Sam, hands curling into fists and then uncurling again and again, “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

Sam’s expression is unreadable, ignoring George as he looks back at Dream. “Prisoner,” and has he called him by his name, yet? “Come with us calmly and your punishment will be lightened. There’s nowhere to run. Give up.”

Dream keens, a high-pitched whine exiting his lungs, “I won’t- I won’t tell,” his voice cracks, tears clearly running down his cheeks, “I won’t tell you Quackity I won’t-”

“Sam,” Puffy turns to the hybrid. “I think you should go.”

“Puffy-”

“He’s having a panic attack, Sam. He’s hardly going to do anything.” She levels a glare at him, sheathing her cutlass at her side. “I’m perfectly capable of defending myself, and I’ve promised to help anyone having a mental health crisis on the server.” Something dark and traitorous whispers how she’d given up on Dream before, and she pushes it down.

“He’s a danger to everyone on the server.”

“Sam- he’s not fucking breathing right now on the edge of a cliff. He’s not a danger to anyone but himself.”

“She’s right, Sam,” Puffy’s head snaps to George. He’s looking at her, expression hidden behind his glasses, lips pressed together in a small frown. “Puffy, we’ll be waiting. You or Sapnap call if you need back-up.”

She nods tersely, watches as Sam gives in and follows George down the mountain, the hybrid’s red eyes still staring at Dream as he leaves. Sapnap seems distracted, hardly acknowledging their exchange with his eyes fixed on Dream’s crumpled form, emotions clearly warring over his face, and Puffy brushes past him to get to her patient- Dream.

“Dream,” she speaks, not moving forward when his shoulders seize. “Dream, I won’t move closer unless you want me to,” she enunciates the words clearly, watching his face for any flash of recognition or understanding. He shakes his head minutely at her words, arms trembling, but he doesn’t move closer to the edge. “Can you hear me?”

He nods jerkily, and she smooths the palms of her hands on her pants, trying to calm the race of her heart in her chest.

“Good, very good,” years of training, habit, flood her head, pushing away the buzzing unease and fear and tangled knot of dark feelings that linger every time she sees Dream’s face, “I need you to breathe for me, okay? We’re going to inhale for four- there you go,” she counts, watching the shuddering movement of his chest as he struggles to replicate her movements, “Very good, hold for four, there you go- you’ve got this-”

Slowly, painfully, the rattle of his lungs in his chest becomes something quieter, more manageable, no longer rising and falling in desperate arrhythmic wheezes that make her chest hurt in sympathy. She’s still kneeling there, hands palms-up when he looks up at her, eyes wide, a degree of lucidity having returned to them, and for a moment a flash of fear stabs through her heart.

She swallows it down, pulling forward every ounce of professionalism she can muster. “Dream,” she keeps her voice low and soft, biting her lip at the way he freezes, again, at the call of his name. “Dream, can you step away from the edge?”

His hands clutch at the line of grass and dirt that make up the sod overhang, knuckles white. His eyes keep staring in hers, wide and wet and green, and she shushes him softly under her breath.

“It’s ok, take your time,” she breathes, watching as his hand inches forward bit by bit, gaze still fixed on her face, “It’s okay, Duckling.”

She blinks, and there’s a whirl of orange flying towards her chest; Sapnap shouts behind her, and panic blooms in her head too quickly for her to pick out anything but a desperate little oh god I’m going to die-

The blow never comes.

Instead, she looks down, heart in her throat, at a sobbing, shaking lump pressed against her chest, head buried in the crook over her neck as dirty, tangled hair falls in waves over her shoulder. She freezes, watching as his shoulders shake, hands tangled in her shirt sleeve, barely able to hear the words he’s saying over his wails and her heart thudding in her ears.

“Please don’t bring me back,” he pleads, voice cracking, “Please- please I don’t wanna go back please tell Sapnap to make it quick please I can’t go through another Quackity visit please Puffy don’t let them send me back-”

“Dream-”

“I’ll- I won’t fight, I pr’mise, Sapnap can keep his promise it’s okay I won’t fight anymore I’m-” he keens, high-pitched and mangled, into her shoulder, “I’m so tired Puffy.”

“Duckling,”

“Don’ make me go back, please.”

Puffy pulls him back, presses her hand on his cheek, murmuring softly. And- maybe she shouldn’t be doing this, maybe Dream’s a danger just like Sam said, maybe she’ll come to regret helping him the same way she had before - but right now he’s in pain and he’s crying and he’s closer than he’s been in so, so long and all she can see is her duckling, hurting, her duckling, home.

“Dream,” she brushes her thumb against his cheek, smooths a lock of hair behind his ear. “What happened in there?”

And he begins to speak.

[willowbird]

hi! im a sucker for mutual pining so can i ask for roommates!au+ childhood friends + “you know i’ll do anything for you.” for pynch? 💛

You sure can lovely, you know I'll do anything for you 😉 (see what I did there?)

I also decided to make this a sick fic because I can. Hope you enjoy!

--

Ronan Lynch woke up feeling like death warmed over. Now this wasn't an altogether unfamiliar sensation, but it usually followed a night of heavy drinking and too many tacos sourced from questionable food trucks. Last night Ronan had been fucking responsible, thank you. He could have gone out and gotten trashed with some not-quite-friends he knew from around town. Instead, he had specifically stayed home and not gotten shit-faced because he had important shit to do today.

See, responsible. He could do it. Fuck you, Declan.

With an enthusiastic groan of anguish, Ronan rolled over and made to push himself up into a sitting position. His hand slipped off the edge of the bed in the attempt, however, and two seconds later he was in a heap on the floor with absolutely no energy nor motivation to try again.

At least, not until he heard a light knock on the door followed by a familiar voice calling, "Ronan? You alright in there?"

"Fuck," he grumbled to himself - except his face was trapped between his arm and the floor, so it came out more like 'frushk'.

The door creaked open and Ronan managed to summon the energy to lift his arm just enough to see Adam's bare feet peak into the room. How had he never noticed how elegant Adam's ankles were? The man could be a dancer if he wanted to, Ronan was sure of it - not that he knew anything about dancing or what dancers bodies should look like. Adam was wearing his pajama pants still, which was odd because Adam was always up way before Ronan and was usually fully dressed by the time Ronan dragged his ass out of bed - which he only ever did when the time was still in single-digits if he had absolutely no other choice (or if Adam was making breakfast... so... almost every day, but then he went back to bed). It was a shame, though, because Adam's calves were elegant, too. One wouldn't think men's calves could be pretty, but Adam's were. They fit the line of his legs like calligraphy, gently curving while holding all of this strength. That was to say nothing for his thighs. Ronan would happily be crushed by Adam's thighs.

"Um..." said Adam, and Ronan realized that he'd grabbed the hem of Adam's pant leg and was lifting it up, his body attempting to listen to his (likely fever-induced) inner ramblings and desire to see more of Adam's (perfect) legs.

With no energy to explain or defend himself, Ronan grunted and just let his hand drop back to the floor. A moment later he felt the air shift around him and when he realized he'd closed his eyes he forcibly peeled them open again to see that Adam had crouched down beside him.

Ah fuck, look at that bedhead. This was unfair. Ronan should get to see Adam's cute bedhead every day. But no, Adam had to be one of those people who got up at the asscrack of fucking dawn. He had to be one of those jerks who owned a comb. Despicable.

Adam caught his hand, the wayward limb having lifted to reach for aforementioned cute bedhead against Ronan's will.

"Alright, come on now Lynch, let's get you back in bed." Adam's voice was soft and very close now, which was funny because Adam was supposed to be far away. Adam was always too far away. Except this next time when Ronan opened his eyes he realized that Adam wasn't far away at all, he was right there, with his arm around Ronan, helping him sit up.

"When'd you get buff, Parrish?" Ronan grumbled as Adam all but deadlifted him from the floor to get him back on the bed.

Adam's quiet chuckle brushed against the side of Ronan's neck like a kiss. "What, did you think me going to the gym four days a week was for show? Gotta be able to lug your ass around."

"You calling me fat?"

"Yes."

"Bitch."

This time, Adam's laugh was a bit more full but it stayed quiet, like Adam knew about the angry cotton that had taken over the inside of Ronan's skull and didn't want to antagonize it.

Ronan was horizontal the next time he opened his eyes and Adam was woefully far away. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, adjusting the covers, which really wasn't all that far, but look -- it was too far. His hands were eager to obey his inner ramblings apparently, because without Ronan's say-so they had lifted again, reaching for Adam.

Adam caught them easily in his own and squeezed. "I hope you didn't have any big plans today, Lynch. You've definitely got a fever."

"No I don't," Ronan protested, half-distracted by how nicely his and Adam's hands fit together. He'd almost forgotten that, how good it felt to hold Adam's hand. They used to hold hands all the time when they were kids -- because that's what kids did. He remembered always reaching for Adam's hand. Sometimes to pull him up when he fell down, sometimes to grab him to go play, sometimes just because it felt... good to do it. They've been best friends since the summer before kindergarten, them and Gansey and Noah. But it was always Adam's hand Ronan wanted to hold.

But boys don't hold other boys' hands once you reach a certain age. Which, actually, was utter and complete bullshit and Ronan was going to do something about that as soon as he was able to get vertical again. He didn't know what, but he would come up with something, dammit.

"--nan? Ronan? Hey, you still with me?"

Ronan blinked away some cobwebs and focused back up at Adam's face, which was drawn together in concern. "The fuck you talking about Parrish," he rasped out. "I didn't go anywhere."

One of those strong, elegant hands dropped his - but before Ronan could mourn the loss it reached forward to press gently to his forehead, then to his cheek. "Maybe I should take you to the doctor," Adam said through a frown.

"'m fine," Ronan growled out with attempted authority. Adam only stared at him and Ronan rolled his eyes. "It's just... just a stupid cold or something."

Adam was already shaking his head. It took all of Ronan's willpower not to whine when he pulled his hand away, but he managed.

"What're you doing?" he grumbled suspiciously as Adam produced his phone from the pocket of his sweatshirt.

"Texting my boss."

The shock of confusion that lanced through him at that was sharp enough to kickstart his brain and wake him up a little bit. "What? Why?"

Adam gave him another look, and damnit if the man didn't look like a sexy, disapproving librarian - even without the glasses. "Ronan, you're sick. If that fever gets any higher you really will have to go to the doctor."

"So?" Something was not computing. Why should Ronan's stupid body being stupid sick have anything to do with Adam texting his boss? Did Adam's boss know something about fevers?

"So I'm not leaving you by yourself all day."

"You're asking your boss to hire a fucking babysitter?"

"No you ass, I'm calling off for the day."

Ronan blinked. He closed his eyes, counted to three, then opened them again - but Adam was still there. He was looking down at his phone, swiping across it as a message came in. Then he gave a nod and looked back at Ronan. "And it's done."

"Wait. What?"

Adam's expression clouded with worry again, lips pursing and brow drawing in. "Ronan, I just told you..."

"Shit. Fuck. Yeah, I got that. Wait. You're calling in?" Adam Parrish had never called off of work a day in his life. Ronan would know - since he'd been a part of it for about twenty years now. Three weeks after they'd moved in together, Adam had come down with strep throat and had still tried to go into work. His boss had ended up calling Ronan to come haul his ass out of there since Ronan was listed as his emergency contact.

"I'm going to call the doctor..."

Ronan cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I'm not a fucking amnesiac, Parrish. Why the fuck would you call off work for my sorry ass?"

Adam gave him a look, then, and it was a look that had the rest of Ronan's confused protest dying before it even reached the tip of his tongue. When Adam spoke, his voice was softer and his hands - his hands - had abandoned the phone and had returned to take both of Ronan's.

"C'mon, Ro," he said in that quiet, steady voice, "you know I'll do anything for you. Don't you?"

Ronan's throat constricted and his hands curled into fists, except Adam's hands were already tangled in them so he only ended up gripping those hands tighter. It took a moment for him to process that, his brain addled by fever and distracted by confusion.

When the words and the tone and the look in those blue of blue of blue eyes finally clicked, Ronan swallowed hard. Then he opened his mouth, maybe to say 'no I don't' or 'do you mean that the same way I do?' or 'if you fucking no-homo me on this shit Parrish I will kick your ass'. Instead, he rasped out a dazed, "What the fuck time is it?"

Adam blinked, then gave a tired grin and shook his head. "A little after five."

"...AM? Five in the fucking morning? Jesus Christ."

"Don't blame me on this one, Lynch. You're the one who threw yourself out of bed before I even had a chance to shower."

Ronan snorted, then looked up at the other man through bleary eyes, considering his options here. After a long moment of deliberation (that honestly might not have been that long, considering how wobbly his interpretation of time was this morning), Ronan laboriously shifted his body over on the bed so that he was tucked more against the wall. He then patted the newly empty space beside him. "C'mon."

Adam looked at him, then the bed, then at him. "What?"

"Should I call the doctor?" Ronan mocked, then rolled his eyes. "Come on. You don't have to work, and you're up to early. This way you can make sure I don't die in my sleep."

"Not funny, Lynch," Adam warned - but he also set his phone on the bedside table and crawled onto the bed, letting Ronan hold the covers up for him so he could sink into the warmth. Their apartment was too drafty for Adam's bird blood to put up with that sleeping on top of the covers shit. Besides, they'd had how many sleepovers growing up? Sharing a bed was nothing new to them.

The flutter in Ronan's chest when Adam met his eyes, that wasn't all that new either.

"Go back to sleep, Ro. I'm right here."

Ronan sighed, but being given that permission to say 'fuck it' to the rest of the day and just sleep off the haze of sickness clinging to the backs of his eyelids and slinking down his spine was enough to sap the rest of his energy. He closed his eyes, sleep already tugging at him. Later, he wouldn't remember whether or not the soft press of chapped lips to his forehead was real or a dream.

Fun little prompt thingies

[thewhitejournal]

Just One More Night

Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader Series

hello everyone! welcome to a new series im starting, this one was actually requested by @art-and-thoughts so shoutout to them. i’ll put their request below so you can read what it’s about, and i hope you all enjoy! :)

plot: Shortly after getting divorced, Hotch needs some sort of distraction from his work and personal life, he ends up meeting a younger girl and they start a casual relationship. He doesn’t want to know much about her than what’s necessary, so they just meet for ~sexy times~ and it works good for both of them for a while. The reader is graduating in communities and criminology; JJ finds out she’s going to have a baby, so she decides to call someone from outside to “coach” and replace her. That’s how the reader ends up at the BAU.

content warnings: smut, cursing, a bit commanding here and there, fingering, oral (male receiving)

-

Finals kicked your ass, that was a fact. You stepped out of the study hall and your tennis shoe met snow, covering the steps to the doors. You kicked yourself internally for not checking the weather, shivers already taking over your body. Snow went flying from the ground as you rushed to your car, a sheet of it falling off the roof when you slammed the door. The cold didn’t necessarily bother you, but not dressing appropriately for it did. Your car sputtered to life when you turned the key in the ignition. While you tried warming yourself up and while you waited for the defrost to kick in, you checked your phone.

The cold metal of the thing wasn’t exactly comforting, but your notifications were coming in at record speed. The group chat you and your roommate and the friends you’d met since last year made together kept bombarding you with who’s typing and who’s already said something. A little part of you dreaded opening it, knowing you were probably fully behind on whatever was happening.

They loved you, that’s for sure. But they always teased you for being ‘addicted to school’, and that you needed help for your addiction. You couldn’t help you were devoted to your future, the career at the FBI looking closer every day. It’s always been your goal. More specifically, you wanted to be a profiler. Ever since you started researching career paths and colleges in your senior year of high school, it stuck with you. You wanted it, and when you found something you wanted, you weren’t giving up until you had it. Hell, you’d just got done reviewing the subjects for next semester.

A sigh escaped your lips as you opened the chat. The rundown of it was that they wanted to get together for drinks to celebrate the end of the semester. You weren’t much of a party person, but you knew it wasn’t an option for you since they said they would be meeting there in half an hour. All you wanted to do was go back to the dorm and pass out, but you figured, why the hell not? You knew you deserved a break; one night couldn’t hurt.

After making the short drive to the dorms about half a mile away, you turned the car off and hurried inside. You came in with a bluster of cold air, kicking off your wet shoes next to the door. Your roommate was getting ready in the bathroom; her favorite ‘hype’ music was playing and you could smell the hairspray from the front door.

You didn’t have time to shower, and you figured it was fine since you had one this morning. So you fixed yourself up, doing a little more makeup and slipping into the outfit your friend picked out for you. You stepped into the bathroom next to her to fix your hair.

“(Y/N), going out without bitching? Are you feeling alright?” She teasingly put the back of her hand to your forehead as if to feel for a fever. You rolled your eyes, smacking her hand away. Both of you shared a laugh. Within minutes, you two were ready to go. You piled into your car, which was still a little warm, and started driving to the bar they picked out.

Once you were inside, you saw your other friends waiting for you, drinks already on their table. They waved you over as if you couldn’t see them; they were already tipsy. A smile grew on your lips as you and your friend walked over to them, happy to see your friends happy.

“To this shitty semester finally being over!” Your roommate toasted, a shot already in her hand. She was holding one out to you, and you took it, clinking your glass with the other girls before downing it. After sitting and talking and laughing and drinking for a while, you started surveying the bar and its patrons. Your curious gaze fell on a table of men, one of them significantly older than the rest. He had a glass of whiskey in front of him. His hands that donned a huge ring with an insignia that you couldn’t make out were gesturing in the air like he was telling a story.

The man standing next to him looked to be about your age, maybe older. He was a skinny little thing, listening intently to the older man’s story with a smile on his face. He looked like he was drinking some kind of sparkling water. The other guy was buff, wearing a tight, grey t-shirt. Dark brows on his forehead danced with emotion as the story went on. His smile was huge; he had some beautiful teeth for a guy. A beer dangled casually in his hand.

The fourth man was unlike the rest of them in his own way. He was wearing a brown pullover and dark jeans, his short black hair gelled and styled. His fingers twirled a whiskey glass on the table, and it was about empty. You noticed a tan line on his ring finger, but no ring. This was intriguing. A Rolex shined on his right wrist. He had a small smile on his face, adding to the story here and there and laughing. You couldn’t hear it, but you were sure it sounded lovely. His brown eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“(Y/N), what the hell are you staring- oh, I see. The skinny one?” Your roommate Rachel asked you, her gaze fixed on the men now, too. She looked at him like she was a lion and he was a gazelle, and it was dinner time. You chuckled, shaking your head.

“No, Rach. Don’t worry about it.” She gave you a knowing look like you weren’t getting away with it that easy. Her body turned towards you, and she leaned on the table. Her brows furrowed.

“Which one, then? Cause brown jacket’s been making eyes on you since you walked in.” She stated. You turned to face her, your eyes widening.

“Oh my god, can you keep your fucking voice down?”, you hissed under your breath. You tried looking over at them inconspicuously, to see if they’d heard, but you couldn’t tell. You felt the blush creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks. A sly smile made its way to her face. She giggled.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” She prodded your arm, laughing. You tried to play it cool, trying to make her calm down, but it wasn’t working. She burst into laughter, nearly doubling over so hard she about fell into the floor. God, she was drunk. You glanced over at the table, and you swore you saw him looking over, but only for a second.

Butterflies started roaring inside of you, in your stomach and even wandering lower. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before. The liquid courage started flowing through your veins, your heart pumping in your chest. You might’ve gone over and said, or ever did, something if you were a hundred percent sure he was interested. But you weren’t. Rachel eventually recovered from her laughing fit, leaning on you like you were the only thing holding her up. You steadied her as best as you could.

“Rachel, you should drink some water. You’re wasted.” You rubbed her arm, a concerned look on your face. She stared at you for a second, copying the look on your face.

“Fine,” she slurred, “You need the courage more than me anyway.” Your brows furrowed, giving her an inquisitive look. She giggled, covering her mouth when she let a snort out. “Because...look behind you…”, she whisper-said, falling on your other friend to her left. You felt your heart speed up in your chest, your body turning on your heel.

The man was sauntering over to you, his friends cheering him on behind him. He was laughing and shaking his head. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as he got closer. Fuck, he was tall. That smile on his lips made you blush, and the look in his eyes said more than words ever could.

When he finally reached you, he slipped an arm around your waist and leaned down to whisper in your ear. He smelled like pine and leather, and you felt your body tense up. There’s no way this was happening. The hottest guy in the bar, picking you out of the crowd? This never happened.

“Wanna get out of here?” He smelled like alcohol, but you were sure you did too. It took everything in you not to moan at the mere rasp of his voice. You hummed in an affirming tone as a response. This wasn’t like you, but you didn’t care. He was hot and the looks he gave you alone were enough to get you soaking wet. He took your hand eagerly, pulling you out the door and towards a black SUV. The plates on the front looked like government plates, but surely not. The car wasn’t your focus at the moment, anyway.

He shoved you against the passenger door, somehow rough and gentle at the same time, his arms on either side of your waist. It took the breath out of you, but you were breathless already so it was hard to tell just how much of an effect it had on you. His dark eyes looked like those of a hungry predator, tracing all over your face and body. He licked his lips, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Do you wanna do this?”, he asked you in a low and sultry voice. You put your hands on the sides of his face, nodding. You leaned forward and closed the gap between the two of you, pressing your body to his, along with your lips. His hand pulled your waist to his body, the other hand getting lost in your hair. He moaned against your lips, and you felt yourself twitch in your underwear. God, he was so fucking hot.

“Good, get in.”, he commanded. You’d never been talked to like that. Your pussy twitched again, and you had to hold back a whimper. He opened the back door for you, and you crawled inside. The backseat was spacious, which was quite useful for what was about to happen. He settled himself in the seat and shut the door behind him, locking the car and pulling you into his lap, his back against the door.

He smashed his soft, pink lips onto yours, his tongue twirling with yours. His lips left yours and he started trailing rough kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You craned your neck back to give him more room, a little moan slipping from your lips. “Oh, you like that, baby?”, he asked you against your skin, his fingers slowly pulling down the straps of your dress onto your shoulders.

“Wait…”, you breathed out, and he pulled away. He asked if he’d done something wrong, an apologetic look in his eyes. He’s hot and respectful? Fuck. “No, I… I just want to know your name.” He chuckled deeply.

“Aaron. What’s yours, honey?” God, that voice was the death of you. You were surprised he couldn’t feel how wet you were through his jeans.

“(Y/N).” A smile grew on your lips, as did on his.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).”, he whispered, leaning into you again and kissing you. You slid your heels off and heard them clatter on the floor, kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself against him. Your legs fell over his waist, straddling him. He hummed contently against you, his huge hands resting on your waist.

Instinctively, you moved your hips against his jeans, a moan slipping through your lips. His hands fell to your thighs, hastily moving them under your dress to play with the hem of your panties. You whimpered, and he pulled away, looking you in the eyes.

“You want these off, (Y/N)?”, he purred in your ear.

“Fuck, yes, Aaron, please…” You were a mess, but you didn’t care. You just wanted him so bad, and you didn’t even know him. His fingers tugged at them, pulling them down your thigh and shoving them in his pocket, a sly smile on his face.

“Come here, baby.” You obliged, sliding your hands under his shirt as you kissed him roughly. He bit your lip, a yelp coming from you and a deep chuckle from him. The two of you parted for only a second so that his jacket and shirt could come off. You admired his skin in the faint light from a nearby streetlight. Something that stood out to you was all the scars on his stomach. You leaned down and kissed every single one of them, undoing his belt in the process. You could feel how hard he was through his jeans. He moaned, his head hitting the window. “Fuck, you’re so hot…” His voice sounded so attractive when he was hot and bothered.

His hands pulled you suddenly back into his lap, hands resting on your bare ass. “Your turn first.” His thumb had no problem finding your pulsing clit, and he started rubbing circles just the way you liked. You gasped, moaning and burying your face in his neck. He moaned too, pushing a finger inside you and pumping back and forth. “You’re so wet for me, (Y/N).” You couldn’t speak; the power he held over you was insane. He kissed your neck so roughly you knew it would leave bruises that you’d have to cover up. Good thing it was scarf season.

He added another finger, and you started riding him; you were a moaning and sloppy mess. You put your hands on his strong shoulders to steady yourself, and he moved his fingers faster. The knot in your stomach tightened, and you could hardly breathe. Your eyes rolled back into your head and all you could feel was his hot chest against you and his long fingers inside you as you rode out your orgasm on them. He pulled them out, and you instantly missed the feeling. You whined at the empty feeling.

“You want to clean them off or should I?” You could barely focus on his words, your pussy still pulsing.

“I want you to taste me.”, you breathed out. Without hesitation, he licked his fingers clean, amber eyes rolling into his skull and a guttural moan coming from deep inside him. You got turned on again just from that vision itself. He pulled your dress off of you and threw it on top of your panties on the floor. He hungrily stared at your chest, sucking on your nipple and playing with the other. Your hips bucked against the leather of the seat, a groan slipping from the both of you.

“Lie down.” You did as you were told, lying down on your back. He unzipped his jeans and kicked them off, but not before pulling a condom out of the back pocket. His dick was pushing against the thin fabric of his boxers. Fuck, he’s huge. Of course, he is. Going against orders, you sat up and looked up at him, taking him into your mouth. He groaned, pulling your hair back away from your face. “(Y/N), holy shit…” He thrust into your mouth, but you didn’t mind it. Your hands stroked his dick for what your mouth couldn’t take.

You pulled away, knowing he was ready. His light brown eyes from inside the bar were now pitch black, his chest heaving and sweat beading on his forehead. You put your hand behind his head and pressed your lips into his, and he moaned against you. You could feel his dick pressing onto the inside of your thigh, and your hips naturally started riding it. He wasn’t inside you yet, just slipping against you. Your nails dug into his back, the feeling too much to take. His hands held your waist so tight you think he might leave bruises, but that didn’t matter.

Hurriedly, he pulled the condom on his dick and made sure you were ready and willing before he started fucking you. Slowly at first, he thrust what felt like halfway inside you. He filled you up so nicely, like the two of you were made for each other. “Fuck, Aaron, just like that…”, you breathed out into his ear, moaning and rocking on top of him. He helped you stay steady as you took all of his dick, and he started speeding up. You held onto him like he was your last breath, and his wandering hand found your clit again, rubbing those familiar circles on it. He started sucking on your neck again, and you could feel him twitching inside you. You came not a second later.

You rode it out, seeing stars. He was breathing heavily, kissing your lips as softly as he did before you started. You kissed him back with what little energy you had left. “That was…”, he whispered, looking into your eyes. “Amazing. You’re amazing.”, he finished his thought.

“Wanna do this again sometime?”, you asked him shyly. He smirked at you. “Sorry, that was-“

“I do, (Y/N). Get dressed, I’ll drive you home.” You smiled at him, and he returned one. You didn’t worry about your phone or purse; one of your friends would grab them. He was dressed quickly and got out of the backseat, closing the door behind him and walking around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. You pulled your dress back on, along with your shoes.

The lack of Aaron’s body heat made you realize how cold it was this late into the night. You crossed your arms over your body, trying to make yourself as warm as possible. He motioned for you to get in the front seat, so you did, getting out of the car. The parking lot was almost empty, and it was snowing. You opened the passenger door, climbing in.

“Are you cold?”, he asked. He was warming the car up, turning dials and making sure it was getting defrosted. Not that it needed to do much work with all the heat you two made. You looked over at him; the caring look returned in his eyes. He looked handsome in the dim light of the center console. You nodded, and he pulled his jacket off and handed it to you. You gladly took it, his smell wafting around you when you slid it on. You told him where your dorms were, and he didn’t seem to mind that you were still in university.

The two of you drove in comfortable silence, the white flakes whizzing past the windows as he drove. Thoughts flooded your head about what had just happened, and how you felt about him. You couldn’t fall for him, but you had a feeling you could at some point if you weren’t careful. Unbeknownst to you, Aaron was having the same thoughts.

He parked outside your building, and he gave you his number and you gave him yours. You started taking the jacket off, and he stopped you. “Keep it. It’s cold out there.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him, and he pressed one last kiss to your lips before you got out of the car. He made sure you got inside the building before driving off. You watched the black SUV pull off in the white flurries outside. The plates caught your eye again; those were US government plates, for sure.

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

[sicjimin]

Hi! If you're taking request I have one :) Yoongi with a really high fever but doesnt tell anyone and almost passes out during dance practice which worries the others

A.N : aaahh im sorry this taking too long T.T i hope you like this one & meets with your expectation! the idea is so .. interesting i love it!!, and sorry for the lame ending ......... T.T

TW : slight emeto, fainting

Yoongi knows his body was about to give up when he had already been sleep-deprived for the past 3 days, and in addition to that, their concept photos yesterday was involving contact with water and in the middle of winter wind. But he didn't expect that his body will give up in a literal meaning , and in the middle of dance practice, which causes panic from the members as they hovering over him.

Let's retract back —

Yoongi wakes up this morning, already acknowledge that he had a fever latching on him when he's still shivering under his blanket when the air conditioner is off. His assumptions are proven true when the world is tilting the moment he tries to get up and walk to the bathroom, his muscles feel achy, and the wooden floor becomes too cold for his feet. He half-conscious walking to the bathroom, freshens his pale face before rummaging the thickest hoodie he had, and go down to the kitchen where the rest of the members already clattering loudly. The first thing Yoongi sees is Jimin, who's currently putting the coffee pot on.

"You look like shit." Seokjin comments as Yoongi glares at him through half-opened eyes which are barely visible with his blurred sleepy eyes. "I feel like shit", he mumbled as he shoves down few bites of toast that Seokjin prepared, gulped down his daily iced americano before walk away and settled on the couch, resting his already exhausted body for a few minutes before they need to go.

Someone plopped beside him, but the mild thumping on his head didn't let him to open his eyes. That's too much effort. "Hyung are you okay? You look pale"

Yoongi only hums as an answer, letting silence seeped between them before he huffs a warm breathe and stands up as he heard Namjoon calling them to go. He ruffles Jungkook's hair, "I'm fine. a little bit tired" before he walks behind the other.

It's Jungkook.

It's 2 PM now, he has one hour before he needs to get up for dance practice. He let himself succumbing the sickness in his body, his teeth clattering as he trying his best to cover himself with a padded jacket and curled his body smaller in the darkness of his studio. The medicine took longer to kick in. He didn't know how long it had had already been since he's tossing and turning on the couch until someone knocking on his door, calling him that its time for practice.

The rest of the day went like a blur for Yoongi as he's too busy fighting his body to not completely shut down. He managed to go through some interviews as scheduled, downing a bowl of porridge that he requested to the staff as lunch with rice is way too heavy for his upset stomach and bitter tongue, take some medicine, and working few parts of the track before his head spinning.

--

Two knocks

One knock

Yoongi still didn't have it in him to get up. Then he heard the passcode ringing in and the door opened. He groans when the light blazing over his head for a minute before someone that barging into his studio quickly apologize and turning it off again.

Three knocks

"Yoongi-ah! What's wrong? Are you sick?", Yoongi didn't manage to answer any of that train of questions before a cold palm touching his burning forehead. He unconsciously whines when it goes away. It feels nice. " Oh my god, you're burning up!!"

"Hyung", Yoongi rasps, few coughs slipping as he tried to sit up. Seokjin quickly offered him water from his table. " Gosh, Yoongi. You're sick! Why are you even here? Let's go home!", Seokjin tugging his hand, while his other hands start collecting Yoongi's belonging. "Hyung .. i already took meds. Let's go to practice. I will go home with you guys after that"

Seokjin stops turn to Yoongi and give him a stern look. "What if your fever gets worse?" Seokjin asks, voice firm. "No, it wont hyung.. Please don't worry.. let's just go with the others to practice". Seokjin sigh, before reluctantly nodded.

They both headed out, Seokjin hands firm on Yoongi's shoulder as he is afraid the younger might trip on his feet if he let it go. They are greeted with the loud sound of music blaring echoes the room, he could see the other already do some stretching. Yoongi huff, before he drags himself to do the same. " Are you sure you can practice?", Seokjin asks once again. His eyes still trailed over the younger with worry. Yoongi nods, pushing his masks higher so the others couldn't see his pale feature. "Just, don't tell the others hyung. I don't want them to worry", he murmured. Seokjin didn't answer, but settled to stretching beside him.

The first round of practice went well, despite the aching in his muscle and thumping in his head getting worse, Yoongi manages to do it. He ducked his head down, almost groans in pain as he pants for air. It hurts.

"Water?", Yoongi opened his bleary eyes and meet with Seokjin's red face that also panting, with cold water on his hand. Yoongi gratefully accepts, sighing in relief when the liquid seeping down on his throat. "How are you doing?", Seokjin asks, gaining a shrug from the younger, " At least i'm sweating"

Seokjin rolled his eyes, " Don't force yourself"

"I won't"

In the second round of their practice, everything went downhill for Yoongi. He feels faint with every step he takes to dance. Every time he tries to move his legs he feels like it’s going to fail him and collapse underneath him. He can feel all the blood leaving his body as he moves. Not to mention how it's getting hard for him to catch his breath, the thumping in his head gets more prominent, almost lapping with the blaring sound of music. He didn't know when exactly he stopped on his feet, stared blankly on the floor that starts spinning under his feet . The whole room was now spinning around him, the lights seem to have faded out of focus, only a black hole was staring right through his eye. His sight slowly blurring, vision getting blurry. His breathing becoming heavier, he tries not to fall on his feet or knees but fails miserably. He doesn't know which one of the members screaming his name before it all goes black.

—

When Yoongi came back into consciousness, there was a throbbing pain on his head that made him want to groan in pain. He was feeling dizzy from the movement and could barely open his eyes. His ears felt numb, it sounded muffled but he tried to listen to them. What they were saying.

"Hyung!" A voice says. Yoongi flinches and tries to turn his head away, the loud ringing in his ears makes him nauseous. It hurt so bad.

"Hyung! Are you okay?!" Another voice comes and this time he tries to open his eyes, blinking at first, until he can see properly and get his bearings. Yoongi sits up, immediately leaning against something for support and then falls again. He can feel hands on his shoulder, supporting him.

"Hyung?! Hyung what happened? Do you need help?" A third voice. Yoongi doesn't want to look at who it is, he doesn't think he can stand without falling again and he isn't about to risk that. So he lies there, resting his head on the wall behind him.

"Dizzy .. " Yoongi mumbles to himself. Someone touches his cheek, gently moving his hair out of the way. With a hand on his forehead, checking temperature, Yoongi flinches and instinctively leans away from the touch.

"Min Yoongi what did i told you! Gosh, your fever getting worse", Seokjin exclaims. Yoongi heard everyone else talking again, with Seokjin shouting something about getting home. He didn't know. He wants to sleep.

" Yoongi, don't sleep. Can you move for me? We're going home", Seokjin asks, panic clear in his voice. He nods, then he feels himself being lifted up by the arms. He manages to open one eye just enough to make out the blurry shape of the surrounding, as he drags himself out, leaning most of his weight to Seokjin that holding him. Walks to the car feel way longer than Yoongi liking. Nausea that settled deep in his stomach now become worse as his inside jostles with every step he takes.

"Hyung", he croaked out, " Can we stop? i feel sick"

Before he knows, he already lurches forward along with his breakfast and his lunch earlier, soiling the green bushes under his feet. His throat burns, his eyes sting with tears, a burning sensation on his tongue. "Shh Yoongi.. it's okay. Everything is fine. Let it all out," Seokjin said, soothingly, though he did seem concerned. Yoongi can barely see through the tears streaming down his face. He squeezes his eyes shut when another stream of his stomach content gurgling up and rushing from his lips. His mouth was dry, but he could only focus on making sure that nothing would come up his throat, "I think I'm done", he rasped out weakly, not caring if it came out scratchy or wet.

He woke in the morning with a groggy feeling, feeling much better than yesterday had. When he rolled over, he saw 6 others figure scattering on his and Seokjin's room, with Seokjin sleeping on his side. He tried to shift his position when something wet fall over his forehead, a damp cloth. " Hyung? You're awake?", Hoseok raspy voice seeping through Yoongi's ears. He watched the younger yawn and stretch his body before plopping himself beside him.

The ride back felt like hours, even Yoongi spent most of it with sleeping. Once they got home, he stumbled into his room, falling face first onto his bed and letting himself finally fall asleep before he could hear any more of Seokjin trying to coax him into eating anything.

--

" Yeah I am", Yoongi managed, still feeling groggy, " Why are you here, isn't everyone have schedule today?"

"They come rushing yesterday and didn't want to leave you until you wake up, they said", Seokjin rasps as he collects himself.

"Yeah, you're scaring us hyung, and Seokjin hyung completely ignored us when we ask! So we just crashed here", Hoseok whines, " Are you feeling better?"

Yoongi bites off smile that wants to erupt from his lips, "I guess? not as shit as yesterday", he mumbled, almost yelps when a cool hand touching his forehead out of nowhere.

"At least your fever already breaking down", Seokjin hums before stand up, slapping Hoseok lightly on its way, "Wake up the others, i will make Yoongi something to eat"

[preachyoung]

Hey! I love your work and I was wondering if you can make an imagine about Lucas in when he is sick and the S/O takes care of him. Can you make it explicit and mature please?

hello! sorry it took so long to finish this, I hope you like it!

“i told you to dry up after playing in the rain! now you’re sick.” you mumbled.

on the way back from an event you both attended two days ago, the sky was pouring heavily. lucas was talking about how ‘romantic’ it would be to dance in the rain, it’ll be ‘just like in the movies’. you weren’t a hundred percent convinced because (1) you didn’t want to ruin the one and only expensive dress he bought for you (2) the fact that it was literally pouring outside.

but when he stopped in front of your shared apartment, the rain wasn’t as heavy as before. that’s when lucas got out of the car, stood in the middle of the road, waiting for you. if you look closely enough, you could see the droplets of rain slowly dripping down against his forehead to his cheek to his chin and finally drip down to his neck and chest. his white shirt was starting to soak, the material sticking to his body like a sealed package.

you sigh and shake your head, defeated by his sincerity. you took off your heels and got out of the car, joining your boyfriend, his hand sticking out for you to hold. obviously the both of you didn’t know how to dance, mostly just swaying around with your arms around his neck, and his hands resting your waist. lucas even carried you bridal style before you went into the apartment. it was romantic indeed, but when it comes to the consequences, you both didn’t think much of it. or should it be lucas didn’t think much of it.

oh is that the record player? scratch that please.

now, he was off schedule due to his fever and a flu. whining and grunting like a big baby for you to take care of.

“ugh, they didn’t show this part where you fall sick in the movies.” he complained, lying down on the living room couch with his arm over his head.

you rolled your eyes at him and chuckled. “that’s because they dry themselves up with a towel once they get back inside. but you decided to just sit under the fan because it was cooling.” you replied to your whiny boyfriend.

you were making porridge for him, learning from youtube for a Hong Kong styled one so he could feel like home. even though lucas has been saying that whatever you cook for him already makes him feel like home.

with the hot bowl of porridge in your hand, you asked him to sit up so you could feed him.

“come on, ah.” you said, blowing on the spoonful of porridge before feeding it to lucas’s mouth. after a couple of complaints from him - ‘the porridge is too hot!’ and ‘you didn’t blow on it this time.’ and also ‘can you feed me like those babies where an aeroplane is coming towards my mouth?’ . finally finishing it, you went back to the kitchen and cleaned everything up before going back to the living room couch.

he looked up at you and patted the space in front of him, indicating that you should cuddle. you smiled and lay down next to him. the tv was on, volume down low enough for you to listen to what the actors were saying, thank god for subtitles. even with just the ceiling fan spinning at a medium speed, lucas’s body felt warmer than usual due to his fever. he was softly snoring away, his arm lazily draped over your body.

as the movie continued playing on the screen, you felt lucas shifting his hips closer to yours. the feeling wasn’t foreign, soft groans and moans of your name escaped from his mouth, gradually grinding his hard on to your ass.

is he having a wet dream…….?

you turned around to face him, trying your best to not fall off the couch. you put your hand on his face, casually rubbing your thumb on his cheek. you planted a soft kiss on his lips, then his forehead then his neck. it was just enough to stir him up from his nap.

“what are you doing, babe?” he asked, eyes still half droopy, and a sly smile plastered on his face.

“my question is, what am i doing in your dreams?” you said, continue placing open wet kisses on his neck, earning a low moan from him.

“f-fuck, you were o-on your knees, sucking me-” lucas stuttered, as he was told to sit up, eyeing your every action.

you smirked.

you tapped his thighs, signalling him to spread his legs apart. his hard cock could be seen so obviously with his basketball shorts material being so thin. also his habit of not wearing underwear at home. you kneeled on the floor, right in the middle of the empty space of his legs. your fingers inch their way up from his thighs to his prominent boner, tracing the outline of his cock before pulling his waistband, allowing his cock to spring up free from the restriction of his basketball shorts.

his tip was red and fuming, pre-cum leaking. you looked up at him with doe eyes, blowing cool air onto his tip. lucas’ body shivered in response. his lips were plump from biting down too much and his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat.

you licked your lips before licking a thick strip from the base of his cock to the tip, tasting his pre-cum. you swirl your tongue on his tip, then swallowing his cock whole without warning. lucas’ hips jerked up with instinct, one hand on your hair and another gripping the blanket next to him.

“j-just like that, baby.” he encouraged you. you moan in response, the vibrations sending goosebumps all over his body.

before he could finish, you suck him off with a loud ‘pop’, not giving him the chance to cum. you lifted your head, saliva drooling down your chin with a mix of his shoot, lips pink and plump.

“what else did i do? i’m sure i did more than just be on my knees for you, right baby?” you cooed as you stood up in front of him.

lucas looked at you, frustrated as his high was gradually fading. he let out a loud sigh.

“i pound in you hard, right here.” he smirked before putting his hand against your clothed core. you were so turned on by the whole thing, you didn’t even realize your juices were soaking through your shorts.

“so wet. just for me.” he cooed.

he pulled you closer by your waist, tugging on your waistband and pulled your shorts along with your panties, discarding it somewhere in the living room. his hands cupped your naked heat, adding a little pressure on your clit, causing you to let out a whimper.

“lie down, princess. make yourself comfortable.” lucas said with a raspy voice. you did as told, switching positions with your boyfriend.

“you’re so fucking wet, look at you.” he said as he stares at your dripping core while holding your legs apart. you moaned at his praise towards you, feeling your cheeks grow hot from how exposed you are to your lover of six months.

lucas planted a harsh kiss on your lips before lining himself up at your entrance, teasing your folds and collecting your juices with the tip of his cock.

“just put it in already!” you complained. lucas smiled at you before obliging your demand. low groans and whimpers left the both of your mouths. your eyes rolling at the back of your head from how good his cock was stretching you out, filling you up to the maximum.

lucas started at a slow pace, progressively increasing his pace until snapping his hips against yours, making you both a moaning mess. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer towards you, hands grabbing his hair as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.

you could imagine what you look like right now : sweaty with your hair sticking on your face and neck; lucas’ hair ruffled and messy from how much tugging you did; the hickies he gave you while pounding harshly into your wet cunt.

“i-i’m so close.” you whine. lucas moved his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circles, trying to help you reach your high faster.

“where do you want me to cum, y/n?” he whispered next to your ear before letting out a loud groan, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“just cum inside me, im on the pill.” you said.

with one last stroke, lucas whimpered as he filled you up with his shoot, slowing down his pace as you both came. you smiled at each other sheepishly as you took in his beautiful face.

“i thought you were sick. i’m surprised you could fuck.” you smiled at him as he cleaned you up.

“i was until i had that dream. you’re my medicine i guess?” he chuckled. blush creeping up his cheeks as he realized what he said was so cheesy.

“yeah right.”

[bakubitch-minusultra]

Not Alone: Chapter Eight

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want -3- this one is a lil ;-; at the end and i apologize in advance i just like fucking with people c:<

-> Word Count: 2.8k

-> Warnings: pervy doods, blood(?), descriptions of sexual assault

-> Taglist:@5sosfckss @laudthingcat [if you wanna be added lmk <3]

A hand slipped over her mouth and Y/n instantly thought of the germs and squeezed her lips together.

“Don’t move, princess. They’ve come for you. Those fuckers sold you out to the breeders. Or it was that old bitch. You should know better than to trade with the first person who talks to you. You bush people are stupid.” Her bright white smile flashed in the darkness. “Don’t look so scared, I have a way out.”

Y/n nodded as the lady pulled her hand away from her face. The lady held her hand out and Y/n fished a ruby ring out of her sports bra and put it in the lady’s hand. She turned her back on Y/n and walked to a closet.

She opened the door and Y/n followed, holding her sack close to her chest. The lady pulled on the rod for hanging clothes in the closet, which made the wall pop out. She pushed it inside and walked into the wall. She entered the darkness and Y/n put her hands out. She heard voices coming to the room and she quickly closed the wall behind them.

She felt the lady’s hand grip hers suddenly. Y/n wanted to scream but she didn't. Her pulse was vibrating throughout her body.

Words were whispered into the darkness.

“Stairs.” Y/n put her feet down to the next level slowly. They could hear men’s voices above her.

“What the fuck is this?” The men sounded like they were right on top of her.

“She was here.”

Y/n heard the old woman’s voice. She felt cheated and betrayed. For trade she would sell Y/n out. Sell her out to the farms. Y/n knew humanity was a disgusting disappointment, but she still had a hard time imagining a woman turning in another woman to the farms.

“She was here, please. Let him just come home for a few days.”

Y/n continued down the stairs, feeling each step with the tips of her boots. It felt like an eternity had passed by the time they reached the bottom. The voices were gone and what replaced them was a dripping sound and damp cold air. The kind that could only be found underground.

“This was your house wasn’t it?” Y/n whispered.

“Yup. My husband had this installed when we built the house. He worked for the CIA.” Y/n felt her grip her hand again and pull her. “The ground is flat. We have to hurry.”

Y/n was stunned at the fact that no one knew about her underground bunker. But not as stunned as she was about her willingly helping Y/n escape.

“You could’ve sold me to them.” Y/n felt the lady’s fingers grip hers. Her voiced had changed.

“They have no right. No right to do what they’re doing.” The lady’s finger bit into Y/n’s shoulders as she shook her. “You gotta hurry. Don’t come back here. The girls get taken. The hunters are dressed up as traders but they’re not. Run. Feel your fingers along the wall until you see the light in the ceiling. Climb up there. It’s a latch. I have to get back now.”

Before Y/n could thank her the lady was gone. She was alone in the dark.

The fear was crippling her. She reached a trembling hand out into the darkness. Cold hard stone met her somewhere in the dark. She ran her fingers along it, running as best as she could. She was scared. She hated being scared. She decided that she needed a rule about being scared and doing things that made her scared.

She saw the ring of light up ahead. It had cast a dull beam in the shape of a circle on the floor. The morning sun was rising. She had slept later than she thought she would have. She should’ve been halfway home by the time the sun came up.

She felt like she was stepping into a magical light, like in the movies she had watched with her grandmother. The dark of the bunker was held at bay by the tiny ring of light. Dust particles sparkled inside of the ring. She reached her hands through it, watching as she made the dust dance in the light.

She looked up at the ring of light and then put her hand out at the small ladder she could see. She climbed until her head was at the wooden hatch. She listened to the silence. Nothing made a sound. She didn’t want to open the hatch. She wanted to hide in the dark of the bunker and never come out.

She heard a whisper in the wind. It was a sound she would know anywhere. It wasn’t close to her location, but it hurt her just the same. It could’ve been her.

She took a breath and put her hand on the bottom of the hatch. She tried to calm the shaking but she couldn’t. She pushed on the hatch and light flooded the small space even though the crack was tiny. The sun hadn’t completely risen, just as the moon hadn’t fully set. It was dawn.

She saw greenery everywhere around the hatch. Moss and brush surrounded her. She didn’t see anything but the sounds of the screams had filled the air. The animals made no noise, as the people had taken over the space with their screams again.

“Please! Please! Stop, please! I have money!” Her voice scared Y/n. The desperation frightened her. She had never been that desperate but she knew she had it in her. “Please sir, please! Don’t you have a sister or a wife you would want to keep safe?! Please! I’ll let you do whatever you want just don’t take me! Don’t take me back there! I’ll die in there!”

Y/n wanted to rock back and forth on the ground. She wished they would just kill her already so she would shut up. She was frozen. She didn’t leave the bunker but she didn’t close the lid either.

She knew she was in danger. She took a deep breath. She thought of Hades and Kirishima. She thought of poor Mina alone and taking care of Kirishima. She felt bravery, or stupidity, for the smallest of seconds and pulled herself out of the bunker and slid along the moss and brush. She made very little noise but every movement or rustle felt as loud as a gunshot. She crept along the ground on her hands and feet like Hades did. She moved away from the town. She didn’t know where she was but she was scared.

She got to a crowded bunch of trees and bushes and decided she needed to risk it and stand. She needed her bearings. She took another deep breath and slid her body up along the side of a tree. She tried to blend in. Hoards of people had gathered in the street in front of the town. Y/n could see the field and the cement road. She knew she was on the right side.

Women and children were being loaded into trucks. They sobbed and reached for their loved ones. One girl looked about thirteen. Y/n felt anger welling inside of her. There were four guards from the gates and five other men milling around the trucks. The tenth man was inside the cab of the truck.

Her brain was screaming at her to help the girl. She was a kid but that wouldn’t stop them. The sweaty men who took turns. She closed her eyes and shook her head to rearrange her thoughts.

She turned her back on them. She ran away like the coward she was. She ran until she found the broken branches. She used them to lead herself back to her weapon stash. She breathed easier when her bow was back in her hand and she could just kiss her knife. She tucked it into her boot and started the run back to her house. She ran faster than she did the day before. She ran with a new fear.

Xxxx

She reached the house in the middle of the night and saw Hades' eyes. He stalked toward her and sniffed her everywhere. He was checking to make sure she was okay. When she bent her knee to kiss him, she started to sob. He had seen that before. He knew sometimes she just needed to get it out.

“Y/n?” She looked up to see Mina pointing a gun at her. Y/n smiled and held up her sack and Mina lowered the gun. “You okay?”

“No, but it’s not anything new. How is he?” Y/n could see the grim look on Mina’s face in the moonlight and her stomach sank. She wanted to panic and cry out.

“He’s fading fast. I was about to cut his leg off when I heard you.”

Y/n sighed and broke into a run and bursted through the farm door, something she’d never done before. She pulled the needle out of the sack with one of the vials as she kneeled before Kirishima. His red hair was matted against his face and Y/n could see where his black roots were growing in from the lack of dye. She could see the moisture in the moonlight.

Mina poured the vodka she found in one of the cupboards all over Y/n’s hands and the needles and vial. The liquor was splashing all over her. She held the bottle up to Y/n’s lips and it burned its way down her empty stomach. The bits of food she had eaten were long gone. Thank god. Mina wiped his arm and Y/n finished putting the vial together and stabbed him in the arm. She pushed it in slowly like her dad had showed her. Kirishima didn’t stir. He didn’t register that Y/n was pumping his arm full of antibiotics.

She pulled the bandages off his wounds. The red lines were everywhere and she swallowed hard. Mina put the vodka back to Y/n’s lips and she drank again. She poured the tea tree all over the wound and blade of her knife. She sliced into the swollen part of the injury and milked the puss from it. She poured more tea tree after, being careful as to not rupture the blood vessels and cause more infection. When it was clean again and there was no more puss she smothered it in the old tube of medical salve. She covered it again with a gauze bandage and tape.

His fever was still high and he licked his lips and looked down at Y/n with blood shot eyes.

“You made it back.” Y/n nodded, his expression was breaking her heart. He looked so weak. He reached a hand to hers and squeezed. “I was worried.”

“I can take care of myself.” Y/n didn’t even let the bizarre day she had cross her mind. It was not the time to stress him out.

“I don’t doubt that, you scare me.”

Y/n laughed. She couldn’t help herself. He was huge and no doubt strong, stronger than he knew. Stronger than Y/n. She tried not to think about the young girls in the truck. She was a coward.

“I’m goin’ back to watching.” Mina was gone and suddenly Kirishima and Y/n were alone. She felt funny about it.

Kirishima pulled her up onto the couch, “Come lay with me.” It was the first human contact Y/n had had in a while. Watching t.v with friends was the closest thing to cuddling she had ever experienced. She didn’t know what to do and went limp. Kirishima laughed and pulled her alongside him on the couch. His arm was burning hot, it felt amazing. He wrapped his arm around her and she shivered from the heat.”

“Tell me a story Y/n.”

Y/n paused, she didn’t have any. She wanted to tell him something fun about her childhood but it basically looked just like her life now, but with more showering.

“I went to the town once a long time ago. The infection was newer then. I ran through the woods and broke the branches to make a path for myself to find the farmhouse again. Just like my dad taught me. I was excited when I saw the gates. I was so stupid. I thought being with other survivors would be better for me. I went in and begged for food from a lady. She laughed at me.” Y/n felt her air getting trapped in her throat. The shame filling her was her punishment. She deserved it. “I went out her door and sat in the narrow alley near the back of the house. I was hidden by a bunch of old buckets and garbage. The lady and her daughter were walking around the back with bags of stuff. Some men came. They started tearing at them. They stripped them and hurt them.” Y/n choked slightly on her next sentence, “I ran into the store and stole as much food as I could carry. I ran and gorged myself in the back of her store. I could still hear her screaming and I did nothing. I just ate.”

Kirishima squeezed her and kissed the top of her forehead. She stared into his black t-shirt that was soaked with sweat.

“You’re kinda bad at storytelling. I sorta wanted to go to sleep. Now I think I’ll never sleep again.” Y/n laughed with him. It killed the moment of suffering she deserved. He kissed her forehead again, “Do you have anything lighter? I don’t want that to be the last thing I think about when I die.” Y/n laughed again, but this time she wanted to cry. He was dying and Y/n knew this. Instead of her leaving him, he was leaving her and it hurt.

“I have one memory of my mother. She was in the hospital bed. I was two years old. She looked like me, but she was really pretty. Her lip looked like she was pushing them out.”

“Duck lips.”

“What?”

He laughed, “They were called duck lips back then.”

“Oh. Well she had those. She was in the bed and she let me climb up with her. I sat on her lap and we watched t.v. It was a cartoon about a bald kid and his family.”

“Caillou. I loved that show. LOVE IT.” He spoke in a high pitched voice. It made Y/n smile, he remembered things so clearly. He nudged her, “What happened then?”

Y/n shook her head, “Nothing. We just sat in the sun on her bed. I remember how soft her nightgown was and she let me eat her pudding.”

“Yeah okay that’s another bad example of storytelling.” Y/n wanted to defend herself, but she knew it would only make him feel sorry for her.

He smiled, “Once when I was six, me and Bakugo went and played down by the river behind my house. His mom was really strict about it and never let us go down there. We figured because Bakugo was old enough to babysit we were good. We brought boats we made out of paper and put them on the water.. They floated perfectly until mine flipped over. I reached for it before it got too far away and of course fell in. Bakugo grabbed me before I got pulled away. I would have drowned for sure. We ran back to my house but we were too long getting back and his mom was there already. We snuck in the backyard. I thought we were dead but Bakugo grabbed the hose from the side of the house and sprayed me. His mom came out the back door at that moment. So she walks to the backyard to see Bakugo hosing and me screaming. He got grounded for a week for being a bully. He was the best friend ever.”

A weird feeling overtook the other feelings Y/n had. She was jealous that she didn’t have a single story like that one. She looked into his eyes and felt lost. She felt like she was part of them.

“Now that’s a story, jackass.” Y/n frowned at him. He lifted her chin and pressed his warm lips to hers. She loved it. She loved him. His warmth rushed through her. His lips parted hers and his tongue caressed her lips softly. He pulled back but she wanted more and watched his laps as he pulled away. “You’re supposed to close your eyes Y/n.”

She blushed, “I liked that.”

He laughed softly, “It was on my list of things to do before I die.” His words stung.

“You haven’t kissed a girl before?”

He shook his head, “Not a girl I really like.”

“Your fever is making you crazy.”

“Good.” He pulled her close and kissed her until she was dizzy.

--

haha cliffhanger go brrrr

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Hi love! Can I request a part two for the cevans x reader where the reader misses her period again and she takes another pregnancy test? Only this time it's positive?? You would melt my heart

A/N- I so hope he gets to be a daddy one day, cause he really would be such a great father! I so entirely want this for him one day. 

You and Chris decided after that first pregnancy test to really give it a proper try. And Mr.Christopher Evans, well he was all about giving it every chance the two of you could.

Your house, well if it wasnt christened before, it certainly was now. And afterwards, he was more caring and gentle then even before if that was possible. He would feather kisses down your body, while he eased your hips up with a pillow and stretch out next to you, nuzzling your neck with the slight scratch of his beard and whisper how beautiful you were to him, all while massaging any sore spots you might hint you have.

“Im so lucky to have you” He would say as you were still coming down from your orgasm. His fingers brushing through your hair that had fallen out of your ponytail out of your face. Your cheeks would go slightly red at the compliment.

“Your just saying that Chris”

“I certainly am not just saying that.” He would huff slightly and grasp your chin to place a deep kiss on it, slipping his tongue around yours and inhaling your sigh as you were still recovering from before. “Baby or not, I am the fucking luckiest man.” Your eyes would glaze in between lust and love for him, for you felt the exact same way about him.

Time passed, and a few drs visits, they informed you and Chris that it might take a while, and not to get discouraged. It was hard sometimes to take it to heart though, and every negative test you got, having to step out of the bathroom to see Chris look so hopeful, it broke a little bit of you. But he was good about it, everytime.

“Babygirl, you know he said it could take a while.” His arms would ease you to sit in his lap, your own loping around his neck to balance, and he would tip his forehead to lean against your own, blue eyes filling your gaze. “How about tonight you pack a bag, and we will drop Dodger off at Scotts?”

You slide your arms around his neck and give a small smile. “I would really like that Chris.” His arms tightened around you and give you a loving kiss, letting you go about packing an over night bag for the two of you while he went to drop off Dodger.

That night was exactly what you both needed, the two of you took the few hours to go into New York City, Chris had reserved a beautiful hotel room, a night out at one of your favorite restaurants in the city, along with dancing. Chris was pulling out all your favorites, to finish the night, the two of you walked to times square, just to admire the sight of it all.

Later that evening, your love making wasnt about trying to reach a goal. That wasnt the purpose of your fevered kisses, the way Chris’s body traveled down yours, and loped your legs to brace against his shoulders as he kissed you so intimately, you came crying his name, hands fisting in his hair. Nor the next time when he had you pressed against the hotel rooms floor to ceiling windows, your gaze filled with the dark skyline glowing softly in shades of purples and gold twinkles with the thousands of lights, of others unaware you were on display should they take the time to look. Nor when he laid you out on the bed, and took his time exploring you, unraveling you for the third and final time, both of you spent. No this night was all about appreciating one another, and as you sunk back to his chest, his kiss were hard and possessive against your neck, breathing out. “I fucking love you always Y/N”

Weeks later your sitting on the bathtub edge, thrumming your fingers against the ceramic, staring at the box. Should you take it, maybe just another week? Its not uncommon anymore for your period to be out of whack, and you just didnt want that disappointment again. Dodger sits with his head in your lap, sighing softly as your hand moves to rub his ears, confessing to your favorite Good Boy.

“Buddy I dont know if I can handle another heartbreak again.” You whisper and press your face into the softness of his fur, looking to find peace in the canine. He grew impatient and started to wriggle, in which you let him go. Dodger lifts to place his front paws on the edge of the tub and licks your face, causing that sorrow to uplift a bit. Laughing, you wrap your arms around him and hug before letting him go to race and jump up on your bed, his fluffy tail wagging, slapping his front paws in a invitation to come play.

You reach down and grab his lion near your feet where he ditched it earlier, and toss it for him to catch on the bed, which he snatched and raced out of the bedroom to collide into Chris’s legs. “OOF!” He stumbles into the bedroom just as your coming out of the bathroom. “:Whats gotten into him?” He asks as he looks over his shoulder at Dodger tossing the lion up in the air to catch it.

“I think he was trying to cheer me up Handsome.” You wrap your arm around him and the two of you watch Dodger continue playing in the upstairs hallway before loosing it down the stairs. Your head rests a bit on his chest, and you giggle when he seems a bit lost staring down the stairs, and launches himself down.

“And why do you need cheering up Babygirl?” Chris ponders, his fingers sliding under your chin to tilt to look up at him, you bite your lip and shrug.

“Well I still havent gotten my period, and just ‘fraid you know? What if its negative again Chris?”

“Then its negative baby and we will go back to normal. If you want me to stop loving on you all the time, I will. Theres really no pressure for us to get pregnant.” Chris turned you to face him, covering your cheeks and across your nose in gentle kisses. “Y/N, baby or not, I just love being with you and that will make me just as fucking happy to.” your hands fist in his shirt, and you listen to what hes saying. You know kids mean alot, you both got caught up in this rush, but maybe hes right. You give a nod and move to tip toes to press your lips with his, his hands tightening a bit along the curve of your waist and moaning softly at the sweet taste of your lips. He growled out softly afterwards in a tease.

“Although Im not complaining these past couple monthes have been mindblowing.”

You laugh softly, and rub his chest, winking at him. “You know what, Im not upset about it either, it really has been. How about we check this last one, then... we just enjoy what were doing, and if it happens, it happens?”

“Its a deal babygirl.” He gave you a encouraging smile and once more, for what felt like the hundredth time, you went to take the test. Chris moved over to lean his shoulder against the wall, waiting for you to step back out, and when you did, he drew you into the circle of his arms, while you two waited. This time your head laid on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. You timed it that way, counting with each one. This time no words were shared, neither of you wanted to really get the hopes up of the other one. His hands though told there own story, heavy in the small of your back, they followed up your back, and down, his chin resting atop of your head, and you could feel the scratch of his beard tangling in your hairs, his adams apple bob up and down when he swallowed, you burrowed in closer. Praying, please let it be this time for us. You knew Chris would make a wonderful Daddy, and you wanted to give him that. You wanted to be his childrens mother.

“Okay baby, lets go take a look” He sounded calm as ever and you fidgeted your hand in his shirt, nodding. Together you two went to go peer at the stick. Lifting it up, the both of you studying it. Were you.... Your eyes dart back and forth to the box to confirm.

“Handsome were....” You start breathing in deeply. Chris’s holds tighten on you and turns you to look up at him.

“Y/N, Babygirl, your pregnant, we did it! Baby you got a little Boston Baked Bean growing in you!” His voice had lifted in its excitement, and your bust out in tears, streaming down your cheeks and your laughing in your joy while he encases you into his hold, lifting you off your feet in his joy.

“I cant believe it Chris!” your nuzzling in against him as he covers your tear covered face in loving kisses and nips to your lips, pulling you into a deeper kiss, his tongue tracing yours, tangling and you can feel your head rushing at it. Panting when you part, you pause the two of you with a brace of your hand against his chest.

“Did you call our baby... a Boston Baked Bean?”

He shrugged, looking sheepish. “Uhhh, its kinda been stuck in my head since we started really talking about it.

Only your man would ever think that, but you loved him all that much more for it.

[demon-winchester]

Tremors Behind The Veil Chapter 6

-Chapter 6- I entered the subway station... I did my research and apparently the safehouse was quite a bit closer using the subway than just walking. I finally reached the place but the door was nowhere to be found...A blank wall with some latin inscribed to it "Invented ad guy quis nulla" and I ran it through a translate app, it meant "to the guy who invented zero". What could she mean by that...I guess I can't ask her but maybe Lydia can provide me some insight. 

I started dialing up the numbers. "Well hello, that was fast" she answered her phone. "Yeah... I ran into a problem and maybe your unlimited brilliance can help me" I replied. "Oh, you're making me blush....Don't be sarcastic just tell me what you need help with" she said and i could imagine her smiling from the tone of her voice. "Alright so, does the sentence "To the guy who invented zero" mean anything to you?" I continued. "Ummmmm I can't say it does" she answered confused. "Nothing at all?" i kept asking. "Well no genius it's literally a random sentence for me" she chuckled. "Alrighty then, well, thanks for nothing" and as i said that a door started appearing and I started laughing. "What happened?" Lydia asked. "This bitch used a pun to keep her entrance shut....To the guy who invented zero, thanks for nothing." i answered basically on the floor laughing about the situation and i was CERTAIN that Lydia was rolling her eyes. "Okay, I will have to let you go now, I have some research I need to do...maybe we'll talk later" I continued. "Alright, ciao" she said and we closed the call. Now then...time to find Touch, Lien HQ and Red Tiger. After a couple of hours of research I came to a conclusion...Finding a shapeshifter would be really time draining, demons sound like a tough foe at this time so vampires it is. I'll sleep for a couple of hours and then time to head to Touch! I set up an alarm for three hours, I put on some music *Wasteland by Neoni starts playing*, I laid down on the couch and i started drifting away. I suddenly woke up in a strange city. 

There was nobody around me, it felt desolated, the buildings were almost destroyed and the place was covered with sand...it reminded me of the desert i thought. I looked around and I saw a woman standing behind me. It was Circe, the dream version of her. I approached. "I guess your help is needed again"she smiled. "We need to start meeting under better circumstances" i smirked. "That is quite true Aiden" she answered, "I believe you chose Touch....That was quite the decision, Sylvia will tell you what you need to know and it's time for you to leave i believe" she concluded and the alarm started ringing. I got up, I took a bath and i started getting ready. Black boots,black jeans,dark red shirt,grey jacket,earrings, rings, chain and i was ready to go. Suddenly the phone started ringing and it was Lydia. "Hey, watch up" i said answering the phone. "Sup dude, what is your superhero ass doing" she said snarkily. "Oh shut up" I replied "Just getting ready to go to a club". "Ohhh spicy...I didnt know the job description had partying" she said. "Yeah of course.... You know i hate these places, you dont have to be an ass about it" I said laughing it off. "So tell me, how come you go then?" she asked. "I mean, i am still searching for Circe..plus i need my sword back if I am to have a chance." i answered. "Okay wait for me, im coming with you" she said. "Oh stay where you are love, you aint coming with me, shit could get really bad really fast" i said to her with a watchfull tone. "And that's exactly why i'm coming, you need support from a friend when shit gets down" she pridfully replied. "No offence but if something bad happens the only friend i need is a fucking nuke so sorry not sorry, you're staying where you are" i said. "You know how much i hate you sometimes don't you?" she complained. "Well let me prove you otherwise, let's say i owe you a coffee..how does that sound?" I teased her. "Just that?...No deal, you still suck" she chuckled. "A coffee aaaand i'll have you on comms while i go to the club...i could really use a friend on a sucky place" i said wih a small smile. "It's Saturday night and you think i'll stand by on comms and keep you company?.... You are absolutely right" she replied and i could almost see her smile. "Fantastic just an fyi though, since it's kind of undercover i won't be able to answer you every time...just so you wont get worried"i said. "Alright" she replied. It was time to go. "Let's find Sylvia" i thought to myself while passing by the bouncer and he didn't seem amused. I was walking down the corridor, it was like a small tunnel leading to the entrance. The walls had some kind of fur, people leaning on them, some laughing, some puking, some staring. Purple and pink lamps lit the whole place and they made it feel like a fever dream. "These are going to be a bitch to walk through while drunk" I uttered silently. Following the music i arrived to the main room opening the doors.The room was gigantic. Glass panels were on the roof, cages with dancers inside them and a door on the other side of the room,the boss's room I thought. People were dancing, drinking and having fun... these places were never my kind of thing. I sat on the bar and I ordered a red wine. " A wine on a club....either a meeting or you're just boring" said the barwoman handing me my glass. "Maybe both, maybe neither" i said taking a sip. "So tell me what else do you do except pouring drinks and judging people darling." I continued. "ohhh the barwoman....spicy" Lydia said through the comms. "A man being just a bit of an asshole and not a full fledged one, a rare kind these days but nevertheless don't try hitting on the barwoman, you never know what she'll pour on your drink kid" said the barwoman with a wink. "I dont mix bussiness with pleasure unfortunately" i said. "Are you sure unfortunately is the right word?" the barwoman said interrupting me. "Ouchhh ruthless but i'll let it pass. Tell me though, do you know a woman called Sylvia? I heard she's running this place" i continued. "And who wants to talk to her?" said the barwoman. "Circe" I replied. "You don't really seem like a Circe but you do you, i'll go get her for you" the barwoman said smiling and she started leaving. " So, is hitting on the barwoman part of the undercover mission?" Lydia said. "Well no but if you form a small connection with a person, even someone who doesnt know your name, they are more likely to help you." i answered taking a sip of the wine. "I am so fucking sure you drank a bit of wine after saying that just too feel smart" Lydia said annoyed and I almost chocked from laughing. "Okay shhhhh i think she's coming" i said wiping wine of my face. "Oh you sir are not Circe" said the woman.  

"Hello. sorry for using this name but i need to talk to you...somewhere more privately" i said in an apologetic tone. "Haha, no" she groaned. "Im sorry, what?" i asked. "What you just heard. You think you can barge in here and use her name?!" she said. With that she extended her arm, she hit me on my chest and I was now put up against the wall with the drinks. You could hear the shattering of the bottles and the whole place smelled of expensive vodka. I tried to move her hand but she was still keeping me there. She started hitting me again and again. "Why" was all I could mutter through the hits. "Why?!?!?!" she asked angry. "You barge in my club uninvited and you refer to yourself as Circe. You degenerate, you should've known what using this name in here would've caused you! ". She dropped me down and I could hear Lydia talking worried through the comms. "And who is your little friend talking to you." Sylvia continued. She took the Bluetooth out of my ear and she continued hitting me. "You leave her out of this" I screamed and she started laughing while kicking me in the face. "You dare talk to me like that inside my own domain you filth! I am the queen of the vampires and when I talk you bow! Now it's time to find your friend...." she said. I couldn't let this happen. I summoned my armor, I was still wounded wearing it but I had no choice. "Ugh, i never liked reapers... I knew that horrid musk was coming from you, I could smell you before you entered." she groaned. "Ohhh and I just had a bath before coming here... I'm gonna write a strongly worded email to the shampoo company" I said spilling while blood and looking at her with a smile. "We have a witty one today...They tend to taste a bit bitter. So you think you're funny?" she said. "What can I say, a jester fit for a queen" I continued with a stupid grin. And with that she kicked me on the stomach, at this point I could taste my own blood. "You'll show respect when I talk to you!" she yelled and she continued hitting me. "I'll break you tonight and I'll wipe that stupid smile off your face even if I have to sew your mouth shut" she continued with an evil grin. She grabbed me by the neck and she held me up."TURN OFF THE MUSIC" she yelled, silence befell the room and everyone was looking at her "THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS TO ANYONE WHO DISRESPECTS ME!" she screamed and you could see all the people saying "yes miss" with fangs in their mouths. I walked right into a nest. Circe had told me that but I thought normal humans would be among them.How many people are actually Accursed..... Suddenly one of the bouncers opened the doors, wounded and horror itself swam throughout his eyes. A black whip emerged from behind him, wrapping him and dragging him right before our eyes... His screams suddenly stopped.

[hollyhomburg]

Yknow sometimes I think about that one clip on the boat where hobi is just complimenting and talking about yoongi and yoongi gets so flustered he just goes to the edge and s c r e a m s and,,,,, imagine with his s/o

okay but for some reason i just had a total poly au jump out at me based off of this, Ah so this is the exact opposite of my usual aesthetic- dont know if you wanted hard nsfw but!!!! sorry!!!! this is also not edited like at all please dont judge me for my kinks this is way out of my usual zone. 

Back to You (BTS x Reader)

W/C: 2.4k (oh lord)

Tags: Sub! reader, Sub! Yoongi, Dom! Bts, Poly, Gangbang, Established relationship, praise kink, degradation, Oral fixation, cumplay, dom/sub shit, voyeurism, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, snowballing but with slick?, masturbation, 

Song Rec: Everytime ~ Ariana Grande 

as Yoongi’s significant other, you indulge in his praise kink fairly often. sometimes it’s in the soft way too where he just gets overwhelmed and flushed and stuttery and screams “stop making me soft!” while it’s muffled in her chest because yoongi just gets so shy he hides from the weight of so much sweetness. 

but also, he has a praise kink in much more of an nsfw way.

“oh my god you fill me up so well Yoongi, I feel like im gonna go crazy,”

and him above you “am i fucking you so good you can’t even speak anymore baby?”

his growl of “no one could fuck you as good as i can, say it- admit it darling” i lowkey feel like people forget that dom’s can have praise kinks too, but ANYWAY

after a little while with dating Yoongi- you start to realize that the others totally know about his praise kink, the way than Namjoon will squeeze his shoulders after they’re done producing, saying “you did such a good job hyung” will bring a blush to his cheeks,

hoseok is always the first one to complement yoongi over dinner, and the maknaes are straight up relentless with their manhandling of your boyfriend, slapping his thighs in his jeans at the weirdest times and telling him how pretty they look.

and maybe you’d have a problem with how obviously flustered it makes him if they didn’t do the same thing to you,

Seokjin often curls his hand around your hair, and compliments you on the style,

or the demeaning but lovely curve of a smirk on hoseok’s lips of “wow that shade of lipstick looks great on you, makes you look like such a good slut” and then the tilt of his head, the opaque insensarity and boiling lust in his expression as he shrugs and says “no offense of course, yoongi’s told me how good you are for him,”

and holy hell if it didn’t make both of you absolutely squirm in your seat, yoongi too next to you too, whining in the back of his throat at hoseok’s words. 

Jungkook gets particularly bratty with you as well, a little objectifying, even if you try to deny how turned on it makes you when he possessive tugs you into his lap saying “how come hyung gets all the pretty toys? He’s so spoiled.”

There are other things too- other moments that show just how much the boys care for you and yoongi, other non-sexual dominance moments, 

like namjoon fiddling with your clothes and complimenting how pretty you look in that skirt, making you blush when he cups your cheeks,

or the way that seokjin takes care of you and yoongi when you both get the flu “i know the medicine tastes bad baby but it would make me so happy if you had it,” and yoongi’s whine as he demands a kiss from seokjin after taking a spoonful of the medcin, hazy with fever. and then your pout, and seokjin’s shy smile as he is only too happy to give you one too. 

the way that jungkook and jimin demand cuddles from the two of you every single movie night, each one of them spooning you as you sit curled against yoongi’s chest, their hands playing laced in between you two. 

Hoseok’s insistence that the three of you get matching balenciaga shoes, no matter how much you protest, hoseok will just grab both of your hands in his, press a kiss to the back of each and say “come on just let me spoil both of you,” 

Things get a little heavier, one night when you’re all drinking, yoongi’s head tipped against your neck to suck at the skin there hidden after most of the others have gone to dance and you were happier just to sit with yoongi, 

Taehyung fisting a hand in the back of his hair pulling him away from your skin and making your boyfriend groan at the delicious pain pleasure that runs down his spine.

“don’t be rude Hyung, there are so many people watching and you know how much we hate when people see what’s ours,” and they’re right- there are alot of people watching the two of you curled to the side, both of you wrecked in the booth.

Taehyung closes the curtains to the booth and slowly guides you to give Yoongi a blowjob, Taehyung guiding your head up and down his length with a hand in your hair. his other hand around your throat feeling how you clench and swallow around Yoongi “that’s a good girl, take baby boy’s cock all the way, like i know you can that’s a good babygirl ” 

all while Yoongi is sat in namjoon’s lap, his thighs held apart by namjoon’s hands. Who gives him little slaps when Yoongi moves his hips, whispering straight filth into his ears “so needy, look how strung out you are, it’s so cute! are you thinking that someone could walk in and see how fucked out you look? does it make you turned on hyung?”

And Yoongi gets so worked up that he’s almost sniffling before he comes all over your face, his thighs certainly would be shaking if it weren’t for how roughly namjoon’s holding him, in the way that will surely leave bruises,

and that’s when the others get back, careful not to let anyone else look into the booth (because of course everyone knew what was going to happen- they might have planned it) and the low whistle that comes out of Jimin when he sees your cum covered face, your eyes hazy and not all there as Taehyung pets your hair and tells you how good you did, “just when I thought you couldn’t get more gorgeous baby”  

and of course, they you up on the table, clearing it of the many expensive bottles, parts your legs and holds up your skirt so that you can give the rest of them a show. Seokjin rubs gently against your clit through your underwear sliding it down before he takes it to his nose and breathes in deep. his eyelashes fluttering, just the sight of that makes you so strung out that you’re certain you’ll do anything they say. 

Hoseok holds on to one of your ankles, while jimin holds the other spread, someone took off their tie to bind yoongi’s hands behind his back and he’s completely at the mercy of seokjin, who guides yoongi’s head to your slit keeping a hand fisted in his hair, commanding “Eat her good like we taught you Yoongi- show us how good you can be to her” 

occasionally pulling him back, lifting his head back to kiss him and taste your slick on his lips, licking into his mouth messily to get all of it. jungkooks incredulous and dark look when he breaks apart makes both you and yoongi whine, lifting his own fingers to touch his lips in awe “you know i used to wonder why yoongi chose you over us and now i think i understand, you’re addicting” and of course jimin just needs to have a taste of his own, reaching forward and pumping his fingers in you roughly before he brings them to his mouth, ““Fuck, and here i though you just looked sweet baby girl.”

 “Come on hyung dont be selfish- let me have a taste” but instead of kissing seokjin with his plush lips wet with your essance, jungkook tugs on Yoongi’s hair. Putting his mouth back to your cunt and letting him lick at you for a moment lazily and fucked out before he pulls him away again, making your hips jerk in search of yoongi’s mouth.

Yoongi whimpers into jungkook’s mouth as he gets the same treatment, licking it out of his mouth as opposed to actually kissing him making him heady, and spiralling down deep into subspace at an almost alarming pace. 

So basically, Yoongi eats you out while the others jerk off and dirty talk the shit out of both of you. Hoseok cums all over your stomach, Taehyung cums on your face and Namjoon pulls down your top to cum all over your chest. 

Somehow Jimin ends up with your underwear, curling it around his fist and using it to jack off, ruining the delicate pink lace when he cums on them with a groan. Watching him and feeling the cum dry on your chest, You feel so dirty but so unbelievably satisfied. Hoseok whispers in your ear, “you just love being our dirty slut don’t you?” Jimin sets the underwhere on the table, “We should make her wear them out of here hyungs,”

Eventually you cum with Hoseok’s fingers thrusting into you and yoongi’s mouth sucking on your clit, only to shake and squirt onto the table, trembling like a leaf. And of course, they make Yoongi lick it up and clean you up again, indulging in his oral fixation which makes him cum again, grinding against the table. (honestly rip whoever has to clean it afterwards)

You’re both so hazy by the end of this but the others take care of you, cleaning you up and ushering both of you out of the back door so that no one sees how wrecked both of you are. 

and when you wake up the next morning you’re wrapped tightly in taehyung’s bed getting the life cuddled out of you, Seokjin has food already ready to go and you’re half convinced that last night was just a dirty dream until you check and yup- you have hickeys on the inside of your thighs and one on your chest that you think is from namjoon but you can’t be sure. 

eventually you get around to asking yoongi the obvious question, “so uhm, have you ever like- been with any of them before? because i dont want to say it makes me uncomfortable, but sometimes they’re a little intense with both of us” and Yoongi stutters and admits that they’ve all kind of fooled around with each other at one point or another- even though you can tell it was more than that. 

Yoongi admits that yes, he used to be their submissive, but he cut it off when he met you because he knew he loved you and wanted to be with you, no matter how much it hurt the others. because they’re all a little in love with him- even if they’d never said it yoongi knows, and yoongi also knows that they’re starting to feel the same way about you. 

And it doesn’t surprise you because your boyfriend is a switch (but prefers to dom you and only you) so it’s not surprising to you that he’d had that outlet before you got together and if you’re being honest- it doesn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest

in fact…it’s a little hot, thinking of your boyfriend stuttering as they praise and degrade him in equal measure, and you’d be wrong if you said you didn’t want a piece of that to see it again. You tell Yoongi this, and he’s surprised but not displeased because if he was being honest part of his brain needed some of that rush of subspace that only the others could give him, even if he needed the rush of domspace just the same.

and before he has a chance to ask the boys about the possibility of a scene with you in it (the thought almost makes him weak) it reaches a fevers pitch when you go out together one night. 

You’re dressed in a skin tight velvet dress and a velvet collar and yoongi is in a silky button down shirt, and all of them decide that nope, neither of you get to go out looking like that, you’re only for their eyes to be seen by anyone other than them, 

They toy with you drawing out every minute, making both of you stand naked in the middle of the room for their viewing pleasure, “the first one of you that moves or makes a noise is going to get punished, and the other gets to watch and be spoiled” namjoon of course, is the one that designs the scene, though he sits back, stroking his length almost lazily though you can see the lust in his eyes. 

they alternate teasing both of you, hoseok tugs on your collar and you refuse to sigh or splutter as he leaves hickey after hickey along your chest. “Do you think she’d like a leash to do with this collar? be our perfect little pet? we should bring out yoongi’s and then they’d be matching” 

 Seokjin toys with yoongi’s ass as jimin sucks him off, your boyfriend sweating and looking more out of it by the minute but still unmoving. though you think you see a hint of competitiveness in his expression, like he’s daring you to move first, 

Jungkook coos when he kneels down in front of you “oh my god look how wet she’s getting! oh how cute! she’s pretending she wasn’t as turned on by this as yoongi hyung, what an adorable little whore” he tilts his head forward and before you can control it- you flinch as he swipes his tongue across your clit fast and hard. 

let’s just say they spend the whole night making you messy and sore, and so overstimulated you cry- because it just feels that good, they make yoongi eat you out (damn his oral fixation) while you’re getting pounded into by taehyung. 

And I don’t want to get two graphic beyond that, but basically, you and yoongi sub for bangtan the whole night, and you all fuck on the floor of their living room, making both of you cry (it’s okay though you have safe words and it’s more of like an overwhelmed-with-pleasure sort of cry)

at the end both you and yoongi are curled up and cleaned, cream rubbed into the bruises on both your asses, swathed in plush blankets while jimin combs his fingers through yoongi’s hair and seokjin does the same to you, namjoon rubbing soothing circles onto your very sore hips. 

curled together in a little puddle between all of them while they just cuddle you and praise you, 

“You both did so well for us”  - Jimin 

“Our pretty obedient babies,” - Hoseok definitely

“Could never find such good darlings like you, you’re both one of a kind” - Seokjin 

 “You’re perfect for us” - jungkook probably. 

“oh little ones, you took your punishments so good, im so impressed” - namjoon 

“I’m so proud of you, you make me feel so loved” - taehyung 

and the next day they invite you and yoongi into one giant poly/sub/dom relationship with rules like ‘eat at least 2 meals a day, sleep 7 hours minimum, no demeaning language at yourself outside of scenes, and alway pre-negotiation because they don’t often practice unsafe bdsm etiquette accept for last night because they kind of got carried away. 

after all yoongi did tell them what you two got up too, so they knew that you weren’t exactly opposed to that kind of dirty talk and what kind of kinks you did and if you had showed any reservations they would have stopped immediately during that scene

but going forward to feel more comfortable they want to have like- long lengthy discussions about kinks and limits and what kind of aftercare you like, cuz they already know that for yoongi he just likes to be held and touched gently 

okay thats it thats the ask thanks for coming to THE MOST HARD NSFW thing i’ve ever written gonna go wash my brain out with soap after all those visuals bye

[prettyoddfever]

P!ATD: early 2005

THE MAIN POST

This covers some key things that happened after the band had met Pete but before they left to record AFYCSO in June. Again, I wasn’t a fan during this season so I didn’t personally watch these events unfold. I’m getting my info from several hundred interviews, stuff I could look back on once I was a fan, the boys’ livejournal posts, and info a few fans from this season shared during the early Fever era. 

RANDOM EVENTS:

Pete told P!ATD he wanted to release their record by the end of 2005, so they were purely focused on writing songs – they never played a show. The guys had about 5 months this spring to write some songs.

Pete had gone back to Chicago, but returned to L.A. in January. On January 13th P!ATD said they were heading into the studio to record It’s Time To Dance as a band (which is why Brent once claimed that they started recording AFYCSO in January lol). It sounded like they went to visit Pete to record the second version of the demo.

Pete shared these pictures around January 15th. Pete also told Nylon in 2006: “When we were living in L.A. they came over to hang out and I wanted to take hilarious pictures of them. Nobody knew how big they’d get at that point so I dressed them up in this ridiculous stuff. They were wearing these crazy hip-hop jackets. One of them was wearing a bra…”

Ryan mentioned on January 19th that they had recorded a full band version of the song. The official demo for “It’s Time To dance (cause boys will be boys)” was posted on purevolume the next day. That’s the version that was used on the FBR samplers... it’s not the demo that Pete heard in November 2004. Here’s a contrast between the two demos of It’s Time to Dance.

Nicholas Scimeca wrote on their myspace in mid-February 2005: “hanging with you guys in vegas sucked so bad. im super glad your bass amp works amazingly and the lyrics to that instrumental song are so good. the shit in hand walk was invented in vegas. i love all of you. kissies.”

Spencer, Brent, and Brendon had to have their parents sign their contracts because they weren’t 18 yet. They were sent their contracts around the new year but nothing was officially announced until March. The news wasn’t particularly secret, though, since the FBR spring sampler started coming out around Valentine’s Day and P!ATD was on it. (Can I please point out how I completely failed my chance to be an early fan… my friend gave me that sampler and I just let it sit there. I was also hearing a bit of talk online about how some Fall Out Boy fan’s band had a Cinderella moment, but did I go listen to their demos? nope nope nope).

P!ATD’s first album had an expected fall release date when they were announced as a new FBR band on March 15th. Here’s the picture they were using on most of their profiles:

Their myspace said “what would Jesus not do.” Their FBR & purevolume bio called them a dance rock band and mentioned the line “ambitious and desperate for attention” from one of the songs they were working on. The bio also said that they knew kids would give them one chance to impress, so it was “crucial to form the best first impression possible.” There was a quote from Ryan that said “We want to write a rock record you can dance to, we want it to be fun but at the same time it’s going to be very sincere.”

Ryan was quoting Chuck Palahniuk’s “everything you say is a self-portrait” a lot... it showed up in some future interviews, but it was also on the band’s online bios by this point.

they had a new website in early 2005 but it wasn’t fully done until after they’d been touring for a bit.

the Panic guys were at the FBR and Friends tour in Anaheim in late March. The sampler was handed out there too.

Brendon’s name showed up in Alt Press as “Brendan Disco” ha. 

it sounded like the band made a homemade music video for It’s Time To Dance this spring that Brendon used for a class at school.

I wasn’t as into Fall Out Boy by 2005, so idk much of what people were saying on those boards or communities. I know a lot of P!ATD’s early fans came from there, though.

I think this photoshoot was done this spring, but I’m not certain about that. It was in the first half of 2005 for sure.

The band’s practice space was in the T.K. Productions building. There were around 45 practice spaces there and it was about a mile off the Vegas strip. A couple articles tried to make it sound like P!ATD was in a crumbling building on the outskirts of Vegas, so… no.

Ryan told Blender in 2007 that there was a big-box porn outlet across the street from their practice space: “We went in once. We saw this huge rubber arm with a fist at the end and I was like ‘it’s time to go.’” 

by April it was just Ryan’s AIM and email that were listed as the band’s contact info. Ryan continued to use his blinkexists182 email through the whole Fever era (but his email listed on the band’s public profiles like purevolume was ryan@panicatthedisco.com).

Spencer had been the one who handled a lot of the band’s business side of things and that sounded like it continued.

Brendon was close with his high school German teacher and later came back to visit him after the band started touring. The teacher said that he’d sometimes find Brendon monitoring P!ATD’s myspace this spring instead of doing work for him ha.

Brendon had originally thought he should be responsible and go to school in Arizona to be a cosmetologist or hairdresser. He was still having second thoughts in 2005 and the rest of the band was still like wtf no.

I’m not entirely sure when the Relax Relapse demo was posted... I only know it wasn’t up in January or February but it was on purevolume in April. They also used that demo on the summer samplers.

Brendon turned 18 on April 12th.

by the end of Brendon’s senior year there were girls posting on his band’s myspace asking if he’d sign their yearbooks or take a picture with them before school.

A couple fans claimed radio stations near them were playing the demos this spring. 

THE CHALLENGING SPRING

Some people had already started hating on P!ATD online because they didn’t “deserve” to be signed and hadn’t “paid their dues.” Ryan said that “Rather than going to all these boards and writing what I thought, I just put it in the songs.” 

Basically, the band was getting a lot of hate for getting a record deal before they’d technically played their first show or even written many songs (this dragged on for the next year and got realllllly old omg). Imagine that you’re a moderately popular band in your city and you’ve been playing the local clubs for years trying to actually make it... and then some local band nobody’s ever even heard of gets a record deal?! lol so many small bands were indignant and resented P!ATD... I mentioned more about this in other posts too (like how Jon Walker initially hated P!ATD too before he met them).

Ryan told the Miami Herald in late 2006: “People came down on us for not playing the bar scene in Vegas. We weren’t even old enough to get into the bars.”

Ryan told MTV “there was a lot of pressure, because Pete had only heard, like, two to three songs, and all of a sudden we were expected to go and write a whole record, and no one was really certain how it was going to turn out."

3 years later when the band was touring for Pretty. Odd., they occasionally looked back at the process of writing AFYCSO and said things like this comment Ryan made at a press conference in August 2008: “We had ample time to write and decide what sounds good or not. We had no pressure and all we wanted to do was to put our music out there.” 

The band had to wait to record AFYCSO until Brendon had finished high school (idk why some journalists claimed he dropped out... the band said many times that Brendon was the reason they had to stick around Vegas until early June). Brent & Spencer were finishing school online. 

Brendon didn’t go to prom (which you could totally tell from the cosmogirl article in 2008 even if you didn’t read his livejournal ha).

I’ll talk more about song influences in a different post, but Ryan’s girlfriend cheated on him this season.

Brendon summed up this season pretty well in an interview on LiveDaily in 2006: “We had, like, four or five months to write the record. At that point, we only had, like, three demos. It was the most stressful time for us. We were so under pressure. We would practice all day. I got out of class at 10 a.m. I had a nap, go to practice at 2 and stay there until like 1 in the morning. We had 11- to 12-hour days. I would have to wake up again in an hour and go to school. That was my last year in high school. I was a junior when I joined the band, and my senior year I spent writing and recording.”

BRENDON’S SITUATION

Brendon talked a lot about how he worked at a Tropical Smoothie Cafe and sang for tips. He consistently said in early interviews that the money from his job paid for his share of rent for the band’s practice space, so that part of his story stayed the same. However, I doubt he was actually kicked out of his parents home & living somewhere else this season. Brendon had a much different story during most of the Fever era... so I’ll just say that at the very least he had unsupportive parents and it was a stressful season. Here’s more info about how some journalists heavily altered that story over time.

RYAN’S SITUATION

Ryan’s dad didn’t support his decision to drop out of college & throw away his scholarship. Ryan told Kerrang in summer 2006: “His problems with alcohol magnified and skewed things even further. I was not staying at home for weeks at a time. I was staying with my girlfriend, staying with the other guys in the band. There were times when I almost had to sleep at our rehearsal space cuz I didn’t have anywhere to go. Obviously I loved [my dad] and I cared about him but when you’re getting kind of abused by that person at the same time it’s really hard to try to help them.”

Ryan told Big Cheese: “I dropped out of school to write the record. I was on the verge of getting kicked out of the house. [My dad] didn’t consider it to be a real career.”

Ryan and the other guys continually used different phrasings that all meant the same thing: Ryan quit college after meeting Pete, after one semester, that winter, after being signed, at the end of his first semester, before/after finals (once Ryan said he didn’t even take his finals), etc. A couple times Ryan said he dropped out of college at the end of the year (which is still saying the same thing), but maybe that was interpreted to mean the end of the school year. All I know is a couple big magazines wrote that Ryan was still in school in late spring 2005, which led to some confusing narratives.

The Alt Press cover article in spring 2006 had some errors, so I’m only using direct quotes that line up with other things the guys have said. Here’s a quote from Ryan: “When I told my dad after the first semester that I was going to quit college and write a record, he was not very pleased. He definitely threatened to take everything away. I was on the verge of getting kicked out because of that decision… I’d be completely angry with him about wanting to kick me out of the house, but then I’d have to make sure he was ok and take care of him. I’d… try to get him back to being sober, and [it would be] like he forgot all about what I just did for him and go right back to wanting to kick me out. There were definitely a lot of fights, and he was in and out of the hospital a lot that year. There’d be times where I’d be gone doing something for the band, I’d come home and he wasn’t there. There’d be a message on the machine from the hospital, saying that he was there and to come see him. There was a ton going on in my life, all while trying to write a record.”

Here are the spring 2005 livejournal posts.

[e1ygo]

anything for you

Haikyuu!!

Relationship:

Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Tags

Murder

vaguely described death

Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen

technically canon compliant

Fluffy Ending

Pre-Relationship

no beta we die like men

Aftermath of Violence

I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping

Blood and Injury

Personality Swapnot

the actual magical trope for it

How Do I Tag

Slightly Out Of Character

crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28446720

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kinda terrible but i did like it so im posting it now, send me your thoughts, twitter: wolfBLIX

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“FUCK! Just DIE already, you bitch.” The final crack of the spinal cord as the target’s back hits the floor. He reached for his phone and dialed a number from memory. “Omi, I need you.” Click.

He knew this was going to be a pain in the ass to clean up. The job was supposed to be simple and easy. What the agency failed to tell him was that the target was trained to avoid assassinations for very obvious reasons. He almost felt sorry for who had to pick the room up after the agency’s cleaner finished. There was blood splattered onto his cheek and across one of the walls of the room. A small bedside table was completely across from where it should be, plus it was missing a few legs. Atsumu was splattered with blood, similar to a piece of abstract art. Red dripped down the side of his face, it was from when the target swung at him with bloody knuckles, but now it mixed with his sweat from the fight.

The only good thing about this issue was that he was able to see Kiyoomi. 

Kiyoomi Sakusa was the cleaner for the hitmen agency for when jobs became a little messier than they were supposed  to be. He was a confusing person but damn good at his job. Confusing for the same reason that Atsumu worked for the agency.  Kiyoomi hated germs and always wore a mask and sometimes even gloves outside of doing his job. He hated people, kept to himself unless he knew the person well, and was painfully agoraphobic, yet he thrived in high school as a star volleyball player. This had been where Atsumu first laid eyes on him, in high school at a volleyball match. Atsumu is sort of the antithesis of Kiyoomi: loves attention, people, is loud and ‘obnoxious’ (as said by Kiyoomi the first time they met mid-match). 

Years had passed since those moments. The world has spun on its head and the reality they lived in felt similar to a fever dream or an alternate timeline. Maybe it was; there had been a war in 2020 and a few years later any sports teams had turned barbaric and now assassination, executive protection, and hitmen agencies had taken the place of any sort of police or law enforcement. Sure there was a military company, but they were more of a front for just a really big government-lead assassination group.

 Now they both were roughly 26 and had seemingly flipped personalities. Kiyoomi gave presentations and orders as one of the Captains at the agency; he cleaned up the worst of the worst scenes of guts, blood, and everything else; he even went as far as to seek out the newer recruits to help them learn the tactics and routes (though Atsumu still thinks this is to make his job easier). Atsumu inverted himself, on the other hand. He rarely spoke to anyone other than his commanding officer and boss Kita, his twin Osamu, Osamu’s partner and their childhood friend Suna, and Kiyoomi, even if he didn’t see Kiyoomi outside of jobs very often, Atsumu still considered him a friend. 

7 minutes and 10 seconds. This is how long it takes Kiyoomi to walk in the door of the now trashed suite of the hotel. Atsumu is frankly shocked that no one came to tell them to be quiet with the number of times they threw each other into walls. 

“Miya.” Kiyoomi looks at the disheveled mess of Atsumu in front of him. His blonde hair was sticking to his forehead and sweaty from the clear struggle the target put up with. He had a still bleeding split lip and blood was smeared in his cheek, otherwise his face wasn’t too beat up. Kiyoomi knows Atsumu is one of the quickest on his feet and hates to get his face hit, so the mere fact of the split lip and blood smear kind of worries him, though he would rather drink the chemicals he brought than admit it. His clothes were intact, well sort of. There were clear slash marks in his shirt and it was barely hanging on his body. The kevlar vest he wore underneath was showing through and had a couple bullets embedded into it. “At least you lived.” Kiyoomi heard concern laced in his tone of voice, but Atsumu was too far into his own head to pick it out. The assassin was barely standing on his own, Kiyoomi was surprised he hadn’t fallen over yet. 

Kiyoomi started cleaning up the scene while Atsumu just stood there blankly staring at the wall. It was times like this that he remembered the contrast to the change in their personalities. He could remember the times in high school that Atsumu used to harass Kiyoomi during training camps and at tournaments in the hallways or on court. It made him miss the loud and egocentric Atsumu that he fell in love with on the court all those years ago, but at the same time, he knew he loved the broken Atsumu just the same if not more. He relished in the moments that he was able to see him. Even if it was only during really bad assignments or on an off chance he saw him in the hallways of the agency. 

“Jesus, Miya, what did ya do to him.” Kiyoomi had started moving the semi-mutilated body to the body bag he brought with him. Atsumu managed to break one of the target’s hands, their nose, and a forearm plus a plethora of various bruises and cuts. “You wrecked his hand and face up, I’m surprised you don’t look worse.” That was just the visible marks on the body, but as soon as Kiyoomi picked up the body to move it, he could hear the cracking of the already ruined spinal cord. Motioning to the body bag, “Unzip that for me, Miya.” There was no response for a moment. “Atsumu.” He stagnantly snapped his head towards Kiyoomi with wide eyes. “Can you unzip the bag for me?” Kiyoomi softened his tone. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” Atsumu relaxed slightly out of the state he was in, clearly still coming down from the adrenaline of the kill. “Thanks, Omi Omi.” 

“Anything for you,” quietly slips out of Kiyoomi’s mouth before he can react. Shit, he thinks, hope he didn’t register that. 

Atsumu stares at the cleaner for a minute. He definitely heard it, Kiyoomi thinks while internally cursing the dead body into its grave. 

The silence hung in the air similar to the icicles. Kiyoomi finished moving the body and laying down chemicals and Atsumu sitting on the floor. 

Kiyoomi moved to kneel in front of the man he wanted to be okay. “Atsumu? What do you need me to wrap up?” He gestured with the piece of antiseptic and gauze in his hands. 

After a second of him seeming to lag in real time, Atsumu looked up into Kiyoomi’s eyes. “Omi?” Kiyoomi nodded in response. The blond shook his head as if to clear it, “I think it’s just my arm. Fix me up. He managed to slice me with the rock by bed. I think I’m alright, all things considering. Just tired.” While Atsumu talked on and on 

Between the dazed look and how messy the hit was, Kiyoomi could tell Atsumu was exhausted. So he did the next best thing to kissing him and hoped Atsumu would forget about it in the morning. Kiyoomi moved his hands from where they were finished tying the gauze around his arm and took a deep breath, pulling off his gloves. He set his bare hands to rest on the sides of Atsumu’s neck. He fought the urge to look away from the eye contact they were maintaining, though he could see the surprise clear as day across Atsumu’s face. “Tell me what you need,” Kiyoomi spoke barely above a whisper as if he were scared of startling the other man. “I’ll do anything for you, if you just tell me what it is.” 

More silence. Normally the silence would be comforting to both of them, but not right now. The tension was thick enough to blanket the atmosphere. It was suffocating; Kiyoomi could feel his legs slowly lacking more and more blood flow. For what felt like hours, couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. 

“Come home with me.” Kiyoomi blinked. Atsumu rambled on, “I mean look at me. I can barely stand, I’m asleep on my feet. Take me home and crash in the guestroom or something. I know you’ll harass me about making sure I clean this tomorrow, might as well just do it for me, Omi Omi,” he motions to the 2 inch wide section of his bicep now covered in a gauze wrap.

It was Kiyoomi’s turn to be shocked. “Okay.”

They stared at each other at the ease of the whole experience. 

“I mean, you are right, I don’t trust you to take care of that properly.” Kiyoomi raised his eyebrows at the man on the floor. He was thankful that he had the face mask on so Atsumu couldn’t see the soft smile dancing on his lips.

There was a small spark back into Atsumu’s eyes at the slight jab, and Kiyoomi knew he would be alright. 

Hey, Kiyoomi might not have had to kill a man for Atsumu, but he could at least dispose of a body for him.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 10

Summary: Kate Rosseau is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 9: Kate and Tommy meet Alfie Solomons. 

           Kate did her best to support Tommy on their walk to the Yard. The sky was clouded so there wasn’t much light to go on. They were slow-moving with Kate trying to keep him upright and to make sure he didn’t fall or misstep on the uneven streets.

When they made it, Tommy opened the gate and staggered through the entrance. “Curly!” He called hoarsely. “Get that stuff for when their legs go lame.”

“Tommy?” Charlie looked aghast at the sight of his nephew. “They said you’d be in for another three weeks.” He pulled up a chair.

“I need to get on a boat to London, now.”

Kate frowned. “Tommy, you didn’t say anything about London. You need medical attention!”

“The lass is right, Tom, you’re burning up.” Charlie agreed.

Tommy just shook his head, the motion throwing him a bit off balance. “I need to sleep in the open air. Do you have a boat here?”

Kate ran a hand through her uncombed hair. She glanced behind her to where the gate was ajar. She could just go back home, get under the covers, leave Tommy to his own work. If he wanted to be a lunatic, he could do it on his own. But abandoning him didn’t feel right.

Coughing from Tommy brought her back to the conversation. “If I sleep all the way, it’s Camden Town we’re headed for.”

Kate helped him stand up. “Why are we going there?”

But he wasn’t ready to explain anything quite yet. “Tell Polly she’s in charge while I’m away. If I don’t come back, tell her she’s in charge for good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

It stunk of canvas and cigars under the covered boat. But Kate knew she had to watch Tommy. He slept for a good deal of the trip, only stirring every so often when the boat rocked.

In the faint candlelight, she could finally take in his injuries. Nearly his entire face was swollen from the beating he’d taken. The way he slept too made it evident that he was sporting at least a few broken ribs.

Kate didn’t have much of a nurturing background but she felt she could at least get Tommy to last the few days it would take to get to London. She kept a cold cloth on his face to try and help his fever. Every few hours she tried to get him to wake for a drink of water. He was mostly incoherent until they were two days in.

He began to sit up for longer periods of time and could hold a better conversation with Kate. More than just mumbles and groans of pain.

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

“Here.” Kate handed him his cigarettes. “Halfway there, ‘least that’s what Curly says.”

“Thank you.” He replied quietly.

“So, can I finally know why I’m on a boat headed for London?” She sat down near him.

Tommy struck up a match and took a few puffs of his cigarette before answering. “Alfie Solomons.”

Kate recalled the Shelby boys telling her that name a long time ago. “He’s a bookie.” She remembered.

He nodded. “Ready to do business with him.”

“And why do you need me to come along?” None of it made much sense to her.

“He’s not just a bookie. He makes rum as well, so I’ve heard. And you know a bit more about the American market. Things he might be interested in knowing.”

“So, you want me to help you help him smuggle rum into the states?” She connected the dots. “And this couldn’t wait until you were healed?”

Tommy shook his head. “I’ve got men after me. After our trip to London, we’ve stirred the pot.”

Kate just sighed and shook her head with a smile. “I had a feeling you would. But I’m not one to tell you, ‘I told you so’.”

“That’s why I like you.” He paused to take a couple more drags of his cigarette. “So, you’ll help me?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” She stood up, or at least as most as she could inside the boat, and grabbed a cloth. “Will you let me clean your cuts?”

“Best they don’t get infected.” Tommy lowered his cigarette and let her start to dab at the cuts on his face. “Fever’s going down so is the swelling in your eye.” She observed. “It’s full of blood though.” It was unsettling to see blood pooling around the striking color of his blue iris. “You just need to be careful.” She checked the cut on his cheek. “This is the deepest one.” She remarked.

“Will it scar?”

“Most likely. It might fade over time if you leave it alone.” Kate had her experience with scars over the years. Most of them she hid cleverly with clothes or makeup. But bare in front of the mirror, she looked like she’d been to war. She went back over to wash the blood from the cloth. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” Tommy grunted as he laid back down. “Not yet.”

“Get some sleep then.”

~~~~~~~~~`

“Tommy!” Curly called from the helm of the ship. “We’re in Camden Town now!”

Kate emerged from beneath the canvas with Tommy behind her. She smelled the smoke and soot that was common to London. Birmingham was bleak but London was teeming with ill will. She could feel it in the air.

The second they docked; men were there to question them. Tommy explained they were there to see Alfie Solomons. The men, all wearing hats or yarmulke ushered them to a large warehouse building. People were going in and out, busy with shipments.

At the front doors, Kate and Tommy were greeted by a young man with curly hair. He instantly went about patting Tommy down to check him for weapons.

He glanced at Kate but she simply crossed her arms over her chest. “I wouldn’t even ask if I were you.” She warned.

“Put ‘em down, Ollie.” A rough voice came booming down the hall.

Kate glanced around Ollie to see a broad-shouldered man heading towards him. He certainly didn’t look the part of a large gang boss. Wearing a simple, disheveled linen shirt, vest, and an apron around his waist, Alfie Solomons looked like a common worker at first glance. But Kate had learned from her time as a courtesan to look beyond clothing. She’d been taught by some wise women that anyone could dress the part of a gentleman. The real money and the real identity were down to the details.

Alfie wore rings on nearly every single finger. He had a gold bracelet on his wrist. A gold pocket watch was attached to his waist. Glasses hung from his neck on a chain that looked like pure silver.

Wealth aside, he had the tells of a very dangerous man. Tattoos inked both of his hands. A large scar ran down his right cheek. He carried himself like a soldier. Just as Tommy did.

“You always bring women along to meetings with you?” Alfie raised an eyebrow.

“Miss Rosseau’s a part of me company and I think her knowledge could be very useful to you, Mr. Solomons,” Tommy replied. “I think you’ll see that she’s not any ordinary woman.”

Mildly interested Alfie nodded and beckoned them over. “Want to take a look at my bakery? We bake all sorts. We bake the brown bread, the white bread.”

Kate took stock of what they were dealing with. Beyond Alfie’s strength on the tracks, the distillery wasn’t anything to snub. The warehouse was stocked full of barrels but she had a feeling production could increase if the market allowed them to. Tommy was right, Alfie’s rum could be ready to ship out to America any moment.

“Try some bread, love?” Alfie redirected Kate’s attention to a table with bottles.

“I’ll have the white.” She agreed.

“Ah, see there. There’s a woman who knows her booze, aye?” He chuckled and handed her the glass. “C’mon then.” He continued them on to his office.

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

Kate didn’t want to make it too obvious that she was worried about Tommy’s health as they sat down in front of Alfie’s desk. He was in a much better condition but he was still limping and she could tell his ribs were bothering him. Still, she knew he needed to maintain a strong image in front of the Camden Town boss. So, she tried to ignore it.

“Well.” Alfie sat down. “I’ve heard very bad, bad, bad, things ‘bout you Birmingham people. Aye?” He tutted. “And you, love, don’t know where you fucking came from with that accent, right, but you’re hanging ‘round with them, ain’t ya? You a gypsy like him then? They have gypsies in America?”

Tommy spoke before Kate had the chance. “Kate and I came to discuss business with you, Mr. Solomons.”

Something changed in Alfie’s expression. His brow furrowed and his sea-colored eyes flicked to her. “Kate, is it?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Funny, that is. Yeah…I’ve got ears everywhere in London, right? I hear things. Things I need, things I don’t. Don’t fucking matter, I remember every bit of it. Just in case, think that’s savvy, innit?” Alfie ran a hand over his beard as if he were pondering something deeply. “And there’ve been rumors, whispers ‘bout a man from America. An Italian who’s looking for someone.”

Kate’s blood ran cold and she fought the instinct to run. Unsure if it was a trap, she subtly glanced to Tommy. He seemed a little uneasy by where the conversation was going too. But he touched her chair as a gesture of assurance.

“Pretty blonde woman named Kate Lynch. Should be living in Birmingham. Says she’s American by birth.” Alfie continued.

She smiled at him. “My last name isn’t Lynch, Mr. Solomons.”

“Oh, but we can all change our names. Can’t we? To, er I dunno, avoid coppers, debts, jilted lovers, aye?” Alfie’s eyes narrowed. “So, what was it then? You leave ‘im at the altar? Ran away with his kid? Ran away with another man?”

“I think she’s unsure of what you’re talking about, Mr. Solomons.” Tommy stepped in.

“Well, see the thing is, you walk into me office, right, with a woman who’s wanted by Italians.” Alfie retorted firmly.

“She’s got ties to the American markets. Men who would be interested in your rum.”

Alfie fiddled with the handle of one of his drawers. “So that’s what you’re tryna sell me then?”

“My services could be offered to help smuggle your rum anywhere you’d like. I propose we join forces.”

“Fuck off.” Alfie rolled his eyes and leaned back in his desk chair. “No! Fucking ridiculous.”

“Mr. Solomons.” Tommy leaned forward. Kate noticed him wince. “Your distillery provides one-tenth of your income. Protection is another ten percent, the rest is from the tracks. I’m offering you two solutions. You expand your market to America with your rum with the help of Miss Rosseau. I’d help with that as well. Me other solution deals with your biggest problem.”

Alfie glared back at Tommy. The man continued to glance at the drawer to his right. The movements were making Kate uneasy and she subtly moved her hand into her purse, wrapping her fingers around her pistol.

Tommy continued. “I know you offer a deal or death. But Mr. Sabini is running all your bookies off your courses and closing down premises that take your rum. No one trusts your protection anymore.”

Alfie pointed at him. “You’re the bloke who shot Billy Kimber, right?” He diverted the conversation. “You did, you fucking betrayed him, mate. So it would be entirely appropriate to do what I’m thinking in me head right now.”

That was an open threat to Kate and she tensed up.

Tommy wasn’t swayed. “I can offer you a hundred armed men and a new relationship with the police.”

“Intelligence,” Alfie ignored him. “Is a very valuable thing, innit? Usually, it comes far too fucking late.” He shifted his left hand down and whipped out a gun.

Kate reacted before Tommy could even breathe. She took out her gun and pointed it back at Alfie. Her heart was beating in her chest but her hand was steady.

It wasn’t clear on Alfie’s face whether he was expecting her to be armed or not. But he didn’t back down either. “So, she’s just your purse for weapons, is she, mate? Men don’t want to frisk a woman so you give her a gun.”

“I’m not an object,” Kate replied through her teeth. “I’m just smart enough to know when I need a gun.”

Alfie’s mustache twitched and he cocked the gun. “See, I could’ve already shot him. Right in the fucking head. Then what? You’d shoot me, aye? You’re really that loyal to ‘im already? What happens after that? Me men come in, maybe they shoot you. Maybe they take you and hand you over to the Italians. I know who you are. You’ve got an American mobster after you and who knows how much he’ll pay to have you returned.”

“I won’t be sold to anyone.” She hissed and cocked her gun in response.

Alfie just let out a chuckle and set his gun down. “You’d give me men hell, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t make it out alive, granted, but you’d try to kill anyone in your path.”

Kate slowly lowered her gun but kept it near. She looked at Tommy and saw that his nose had started to bleed. She reached into her purse for a handkerchief and gave it to him. She cleared her throat and looked back at Alfie. “If Italians are looking for me, so be it. They’ve been hunting me down for years, they won’t succeed. But for you, Mr. Solomons. What’s a bigger way to say fuck you than to work with someone they’ve been unable to get for so long? I have contacts in America, bootleggers, police, bosses. No one in the operation will be caught. No one will interfere with it. I don’t need a big cut of the money. The majority of it can go to you and Tommy. The only thing I ask for is protection. Contrary to what Tommy says, I trust your protection.”

Alfie studied her, stroking his beard. “So, you’d trust that I wouldn’t sell you out.”

Kate didn’t flinch, keeping her eyes right on him. “Every man who has tried is dead now.” She replied coolly. “So, I suppose that’s your decision.”

The Jewish man chuckled. “Draw up a contract then, Mr. Shelby. Include Miss Rosseau in it and we’ll discuss matters further.” He reached over to shake Tommy’s hand.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​

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[kpopchangedme]

Nocturna: Part IV

The fragile peace between undead and lycanth is imperilled your arrival to the Inferorum Castrum. Between the changing power dynamics of the wolf pack and the insatiable urges of the vampire king, you aren’t exactly sure where your loyalty lies.

Protagonists: Bang Chan & You (Im Jaebeom)

Word Count: 5.4k

Genre: NSFW | Supernatural!au | Vampires | Werewolves | Angst | Romance | Love Triangle

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN

“G-Gran?” You are so weak you can’t distinguish anything when the old woman runs a cold cloth on your brows.

“Shhh…” She whispers softly. She used to do the same every night you’d have a nightmare after your parents died. “You need to sleep, love.” Feverish, you shiver, and a droplet of water runs down your cheek, burning. It comes again and again. Through the haze, you realize you’re crying and she’s wiping all of your tears one by one, patiently. 

“I had…” Your throat tightens and you let out a whine. “... A-Another nightmare.” Your shoulders jolt overcame with sobs. She pulls you into her arms, hiding you. You cry until you can’t anymore, cry until you fall dead asleep. 

___

You wake up in a bedroom that’s unfamiliar but far more reassuring than the last one. The sun is shining brightly through the three large windows. There’s a fresh breeze coming through, making sheer cream curtains dance beautifully. You have no idea where you are but you are at peace. You’ve cried and slept a lot, then cried some more. Now you are empty, done, dry. 

At least, you are not in pain anymore, it’s a lot better. You sit up to stretch, making the sheets fall from you. Oops, apparently you’re totally naked.

“Good morning,” Chan greets and you jump, startled. Covering yourself a second too late, you locate your friend on the floor. He’s simply sitting there unphased, back pressed to the mattress. “How are you feeling, better?”

“W-What are you doing here?” Clutching to the sheets, you bring both of your knees under your chin to protect the little dignity you have left. 

“This is my bed, y\n.” He smiles faintly, looking away just to stop making you uncomfortable. Were his canines always this sharp, or are you only just noticing now? "The Inferorum Castrum is my home."

“What are you doing on the floor?”

“Guarding you. You’ve been sick for days, but the fever finally broke a few hours ago. You drank too much blood...” His face briefly twists in disgust.  “You must have a lot of questions.” That’s the understatement of the year, you wait for him to go on, but the young hunter doesn’t explain what you’re doing in his bed, naked.

Instead, he stands, crossing the room to casually open a drawer of his dresser. After he finds what he’s looking for, he hands you a black shirt. It’s one of his own, the ones you’ve always seen him in. When he notices you don’t react, Chan hesitates before turning his back so you can dress properly. You wonder if he’s the one who undressed you too. That’s embarrassing, especially if he is to trust and had to spend days nursing you back to health.

“Your First Full Moon is in two weeks. Thankfully, you still have time to familiarise yourself with… Things.” Chan pauses, and you keep your eyes glued to the back of his silver curls to make sure he isn’t peeking as you put his shirt on. As expected, it’s so large on you you’re basically buried under. “That’s… Why I did it that day, so you could have a short period of adaptation.” 

“For what?” He sneaks a glance over his shoulder making sure you are decent. You have absolutely no idea what he's talking about. “When can I go home, Chan?”

Sadness crosses his face for a second, it’s brief, but it's enough to tell you something is deeply wrong.  “I think you should eat first.” He sizes you up and down, walking towards the door. “You’ve lost too much weight fighting vampire venom.” 

“I’m not eating anything!” When you snap, his hand pauses above the knob, in suspense. “Not until you explain everything that happened to me... ” Stopping, you inhale sharply, remembering the details of the giant wolf attack, the pain and the fear. The young man observes from the other side of the room, expression carefully wiped out. “Chan, were you in the Forbidden Forest?” 

Sighing, he steps closer, only changing his mind when he sees you straighten anxiously. “What do you remember from that day?” He looks particularly disheartened, adding; “... And that night.” 

“I went on a hunt alone, as I normally do. On the outskirts and I was attacked by a wolf. I was dying but Jaebeom saved m-”

“Saved you?” Chan immediately interrupts defensive, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Trust me. That wolf wasn’t going to kill you.”

“Trust you?” He bears your accusatory glare like a pro. “What do you know about that beast?”

Please, say it was all a bad dream.

“I do know,” he almost looks mad now, “and I think you do too...”

“You attacked me.” So it was true, Chan is the silver wolf. If your glare could kill, he would be bleeding out on the floor by now. “You’re a monster.”

“A lycanth,” his jaw clenches, “we are shapeshifters.”

Hybrid freaks. That’s how Jaebeom referred to them. “Half-human, half-wolf,” you guess aloud. 

“No, not me... Y-” Chan's mouth remains ajar, but no other sound comes out. Then, he shuts both of his eyes like he swallowed something bad. “Some of us, like me, are born from werewolves mates within the pack. We legacies are rarer now. Lycanth were almost extinct after the war.”

“What war?”

“The Amaranthine Slaughter.” His mouth opens again, then closes. “That’s not important now. You are either born a lycanth, or you… become one... With the bite of an Alpha. You met Jackson, he is our pack's current one. Our highest authority, even parasites have to listen to-”

“But you are the one who bit me...” You don’t like where this is going, not at all. You know Chan like the back of your hand, know when to panic. He's clearly stalling, holding back something important.

“Yes... But I'm from an ancient lineage of Alphas...” He concedes, and you’re pretty sure he’s full-on blushing. “You are my first marking.”

“You… You weren’t killing me…” The room spins, you feel like throwing up.

“I turned you, into one of us.”

The fatality of his words hasn’t hit you yet. “Why me?”

“Hum, I don’t know where to start. I wasn’t expecting...” Chan chuckles clearly flustered, he runs a hand over his face. “The first time I saw you, I-”

“Am I a monster? Just like that!” Ok, now you’re panicking. “A hybrid freak?”

Chan blinks, taken aback and disenchanted, as you stand up. In a second he’s between you and the door, hands raised to try and appease you. He looks more hurt by your lack of interest in his story than your choice of words. “No no, y/n! It’s fine, everything’s going to be alright...”

“I need to see Gran!” He doesn’t budge when you duck under his arm to pull at the knob without success. It’s locked. He has locked you in his bedroom! 

“You’ll be able to visit her soon, after your first transformation.” Chan sounds strained. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know if you just calm down...”

Calm down?

When you stare at him, terrified, he tries to reach for you but you shrink away. This is not a discussion you want to have. Chan isn’t the human orphan you befriended. He’s nothing like the funny hunter you grew to care for and thought you knew. He’s a wolf, and he’s a liar. A cheat that totally freaks out when he reads the fear he now inspires you.

Chan doesn’t wait for you to calm down and clear your thoughts. That's what his experienced brothers and sisters recommended, the ones that already chose a mate. Instead, he makes the mistake of telling you everything. Even if you clearly are not ready.

Everything about what happened in the forest, him, the pack’s history, and this place; Inferorum Castrum.

___

It's only been a week, but you’re allowed outside the walls of the castle during the day, on your own. Well, almost. Even if you can’t see him, he is never quite far. Apparently, he's unable to leave you alone... At first, you were furious at everyone, and you cried a lot. When you were introduced, you refused to talk to the rest of the pack. Now, you are still lost, but you decided only the main culprit deserved your hatred; Chan. He’s the one who ruined your life, your human one.

You still wonder why Jackson agreed of you to join his pack, of all women from nearby villagers. What makes you special that they picked you, that Chan wanted you? Sure, you two had been close for years, but you never got that vibe from him. He never gave anything away, never hinted he might like to spend… You know... The rest of his few centuries of life with you! 

At least there’s freedom in your near future. As soon as you'll master shapeshifting, you’ll be free to go anywhere during the day. Provided that you abide by the Castrum court’s many rules, of course. There’s still a lot you don’t know about, but you’re getting around.

Aimlessly walking into the gardens, you try to work on your new sharper senses, you’re supposed to use your next days to train. You try to focus on the buzzing of a bee’ wings or the smell of one particular flower like Youngjae recommended. He’s one of your new brothers. He explained everything would be easier but even more intense after your first Full Moon; your first night out with the rest of the wolves.

The bright Delta has been the most useful and nice to you, especially since you avoid your ‘mate’ at all costs. You don’t even know where Chan is sleeping these days, you kicked him out of the bedroom and he hasn't come back since. If that psychopath thinks you are going to become his actual partner after what he did... He’s even crazier than you first thought.

Craving the cover of the shadows, you enter the large cedar maze you’ve grown familiar with. If you walk to its center, there’s a bench hidden behind rose bushes. You discovered it the first time you were allowed outside. It’s been your favourite place to nap and think ever since no one disturbs you there. There’s not much to do around at the Castrum except eat, sleep, or get to know everyone by playing games. You don’t feel like doing any of those things today. Tugging a branch to slip behind one of the red rose bushes, you accidentally sting yourself with a torn. Yelping from the pain and surprise, you bring the cut finger to the level of your eyes. Instantly, blood pearls and you stare at the crimson tear, lost in your thoughts.

Blood.

You haven’t had much time to wonder about the vampire that brought you to Inferorum Castrum in the first place. Jaebeom. No one except Chan, not even Youngjae or Jackson, has mentioned your first night here. Still, you’re well aware the whole pack knows what went down... They all heard. Knowing what you do know about this place now, it’s a small miracle the confrontation in the hall didn’t escalate to a full-on fight.

There is a lot of tension within the Castrum. Lycanth and vampires are apparently natural enemies who used to be at war, it lasted over a millennial. An infernal bloodbath known as the Amaranthine Slaughter. Both sides were so busy killing off each other, that they didn’t care about the casualties and destruction they were leaving in their midst. Not until humanity had enough and sought revenge. After two centuries of war, all three species were almost completely wiped out. It became clear they needed to stop killing each other to remain.

The Amaranthine Peace was signed between supernatural beings in the hopes of ending the massacre. Werewolves were the most vulnerable since they used to openly live together in human villages. That’s why the treaty included a special term; Vampires were to coexist with them, waiting for humans’ fugacious nature to forget about their legend. Every Vampire Court welcomed a pack within its castle, usually remote and well hidden from mortals. Thus the Inferorum Castrum became one of those sanctuaries. Jaebeom offered hospitality to his lifelong enemies, the Bang pack, to set an example. 

Vampires may be eternal, but lycanth aren’t, they only live three or four times longer than humans do. So, Chan wasn’t born during the war, but his grandfather was the Alpha who signed the peace treaty. In fact, out of all the rare legacies of your new pack, only Jackson was a pup during the war. It doesn’t keep younger wolves from openly hating the cold-ones though... And the aversion is quite mutual, If there's one thing Jaebeom was clear about with you, it’s that he hates werewolves, treaty or not. 

Since the Amaranthine Peace, life at the Castrum has been fragile and precious. Alphas and noble vampires have been working together to maintain it at all costs. That is the story you’ve been told… 

What the pack hasn’t told you, you’re starting to piece together on your own, slowly. 

Like why Jaebeom did… What he did with you.

He evidently didn’t get you weren’t human anymore. You imagine he knew Chan as one of Jackson’s Betas. He probably wasn’t aware he was from Alpha lineage. That his rank was slowly shifting within the pack, and that his bite could turn. Ah, ranks… Well, that’s complicated and hard to grasp for an outsider, even vampires. Youngjae had to explain them to you at least thrice… As of now. 

There’s the Alpha; the wisest and your leader. His mate is the Lead Huntress, and she is expected to be the fiercest, strongest warrior. You doubt Jackson has a mate at all, you’d have heard about her by now. Wolves are biologically programmed to obey one Alpha, they don’t have a choice. You still don’t fully get that, but they say your bond to Jackson will be stronger after your First Transformation.

The Betas; second in command to the Alpha couple, are skilled warriors and hunters. They keep the pack under control and well organized, Jackson relies on them a lot. The Betas are harder to get close too, you haven’t met many yet. They are mostly legacies, born-wolves.

The Deltas; considered even smarter than most Betas, are in charge of the training of the whelps. Some are also skilled healers, useful in combat. Youngjae is a Delta, and he is taking your training very seriously.

The Epsilons; non-ranking wolves, like you. Apparently, they used to be the largest group within packs before the war, but now there aren’t as many left. Epsilons are rarer, mostly pups that haven’t acquired any valuable set of skills yet.

Lastly, Omegas; always fighting authority... No one ever mentions these troublemakers to you. The fewer, the better.

Lost in your thoughts, you’re still staring at the tiny tear of blood on your finger when Chan appears as if materializing from thin air. He whines, grabbing your hand to assess the damage. 

“Are you hurt?” There’s a deep wrinkle of worry between his brows. Like every time he touches you, warmth envelops you both instantly.

Mates, he explained the first day. Before you can push him away, Chan brings your index to his mouth, gently sucking on your scratch. You’re so stunned by his gesture that you forget you’re supposed to be angry at him. Your lips part in awe, flushing as he licks your finger clean. After a heartbeat he looks up, seemingly realizing what he is doing. Your finger is still in his mouth, but Chan's almond gaze widens. Wolves mate for life, his previous words echo through your mind. What’s with lycanth and vampires with blood?

“I told you to be careful.” Releasing your digit like it’s ardent, he looks somewhat embarrassed. It is hard to actively hate him when every fibre of your being seems to vibrate at his proximity.

“Following me,” regaining poise, you cross your arms over your chest, "again?" 

“Yes,” Chan admits shamelessly, “Jackson asked me too.” 

“And you always do as he says!” You can't help your annoyance. Your former friend looking all cute and innocent after all that happened is too upsetting. 

"Well…” The left corner of his pout jiggles at your outburst. You’ve been going at it every time you see him these days. “He’s our Alpha.” Chan blinks blankly, obviously unsure where you are in your education. “Uh- Jackson is like um… a… How could you… It’ll be like that, you and me… You’ll get it soon, after your First-”

“I know what an Alpha is!” You roar, ducking under a branch to exit his intimate proximity. You need to put as much space as you can between your bodies. This mate bond is making you lose your mind, freaking you out. You can’t even think clear if Chan's near. First Full Moon this, First Full Moon that, there’s never actual explaining with him. “What about what I ask you? I told you… Leave me alone, Chan!” He follows like a lost puppy despite that, only staying a step behind. When you turn to glare at him, his face twists guiltily.

“I’ll do whatever to make us right.” He promises, “I just can’t... Disobey.”

You stop, and he does too, simultaneously. “When can I visit her?” 

“I went and brought Gran some game yesterday, she’s doing fine. She thinks you’re on a hunting tr-”

“When?” You repeat, inquisitive, though you already know the answer.

“Jackson said aft-”

“Don’t bother.” When you turn back to the castle, something catches the corner of your eye; a dark curtain falling back on the window of a room. You catch a breath despite yourself, staring until it stops swinging. It’s the vampires’ wing. That’s one thing that is rather easy to understand about the messy mapping of your new house. Though vampires and werewolves coexist at the Castrum, both equally avoid each other’s company. You haven’t even seen one undead since you’ve been living here, but you are aware there’s plenty of them. 

They live in the West wing, where the sun sets the earliest, and Lycanth – you – live in the East wing, where it rises.  

“It’s not him,” Chan deadpans after a long silence, voice-controlled. He isn't whiny anymore but rather cold. You both know who he means. “He’s been sent away on Council duty.”

“I don’t care.” You lie, although you have a lot on your plate, there’s no denying you do. Not that you have anything special going on with the king just… Ever since that first night, Jaebeom’s not come to see you, not even once. He probably has forgotten all about your existence, you were just a blood bank. Now that you are not fully human anymore, why would he care?

“Do you have any idea how I felt?” Chan asks dryly, all of a sudden. It's the first time he is actually bringing his feelings up. “Or do you not care about that either?”

“I don’t!” You bark back, but even you can tell that it is another lie. Perhaps it’d be easier to truly hate and blame Chan if he hadn’t been your closest friend for years… And if he wasn’t currently taking good care of your grandma, the closest thing you have to a family. You aren’t sure that, knowing what you do now about Chan, you’d made the same deal that night with Jaebeom.

“I was worried sick,” he replies without batting an eye, “I thought he was going to kill you... After... The king took you just to spite me. I finally made a move on you and then you were go-.”

“A move?!” You see it on his face when he understands he messed up bad. You’ve never been one prone to throw fits, but it’s all you can do ever since the bite. You have this anger constantly boiling within, and it's easy to push it all on Chan. “A move would’ve been actually asking me out! Getting me flowers or-”

“You hate flowers.” He reminds, missing the point.

“-or a gift! A move is what Jaebeom made in that room, Chan. Not dooming me into a forced lifelong relatio-”

You regret your words as soon as they slip from your mouth and stop yourself. Not that you don’t believe them, just that he doesn't need to hear that all over again. Even though you’re mad, there’s no denying Chan cares a lot for you. He picked you after getting to know you. Sure, you had no idea what he wanted, but it doesn’t change how he feels. It’s not like your usual self to dismiss people’s feelings like that. He doesn’t need to be told all about what happened between you and the vampire that night because he already knows. He had to listen to it all, has it happened.

“That room.” When he finally speaks again, he looks drained, resigned. He gestures the window with the hovering curtain. “That's Queen Ryujin’s.”

“P-Pardon?”

“I thought you didn’t care about anything or anyone except yourself.” He stares, expressionless, aware his next words have the effect of a stab. “That's his Queen's bedroom.” 

Suddenly, everything is spinning and you reach for your head with both hands for it to stop. Jaebeom is a vampire, he fed on you thinking you were just a lowly human. He hates werewolves, has said so over and over… He is a king somehow, and you’ve… You’ve… How is he married? Does one get that bored when they are eternal?

“Hey... Are you alright?” Chan’s arm wraps around your shoulders to pull you into him.

“Do not touch me!” You growl. Elbowing his chest, you fight back to free yourself. 

“I-I’m sorry,” his arm falls back idly, ‘I just thought…”

He has the decency to shut up then, and that’s how you know his words were absolutely true. In the end, it doesn’t matter. The only thing you’re sure of right now, is that Chan said this out of spite; hoping to hurt you.

“Y/n!” He calls when you leave but you don’t look back. 

You barely hear him, walking fast to the main hall and trying to calm yourself. Lines between your frustration with your mate and the king blur in your mind. When you reach the castle, you are totally hysterical. It isn’t rational at all, but you could murder anyone right now, you can't control it, it has taken over. Of course, the vampire king has a vampire queen! It all makes sense! Still, there’s a small voice in your mind who craves to yell, louder and louder. Why did Jaebeom bed you then? Sure, he called it ‘feeding’, but he did much more than that. 

“Hi, pup!” One of the Betas you don’t know by name, smirks when you storm through the East Living Room. He’s playing cards with two Deltas; Felix and Sana, Youngjae’s mate. His face falls when he sees you don’t slow down. “Jesus, what did you do this time?” The last comment isn't intended for you. The only reason you catch it is because of your new, inhuman, hearing. You’re already running up the stairs.

“Shut it, Minho!” Chan snarls, obviously still trailing you.

You press on through the long stone corridors, the East wing is way more comfortable than the West one. There’s a large window at the end of the living quarters’ corridor, letting in sun and a fresh breeze all day long. No mildew smell, no torches needed at night, all of you can see perfectly through darkness anyway. You barely have time to reach your bedroom before Chan catches up with you. It better this way since you can slam the door to his face, merciless. 

“Y/n!” He barks, also losing his temper for the gazillionth time since you’ve been living here. The built wolf kicks the door you’re leaning against, causing the hinges to shake violently. He probably could burst through, but he doesn’t. “That’s my room too,” he protests, hitting it once more, “you can’t lock me out forever!” On the first floor, Felix and Minho audibly laugh, highly entertained.

“I used to have my own space, you know? At home!” Spiteful, you kick the door with your heel. You too can hit things. You too can be enraged. “That was before you ruined my life, asshole! You can sleep outside, fuck off!”

“I like her,” Felix whispers downstairs, dead serious as he shuffles the cards, “she’s eloquent.” Unbeknown to you, there’s a small audience slowly gathering in the living room, eager to hear you guys go at it again.

“Right!” Chan’s palm hits the wood, and the door vibrates against your back. “Be mad about the bite! Be mad about your former life! Be mad about losing your humanity! You can hate me for that, at least for a while. I understand you need tim-”

“No, you don’t!” Eyes narrowing meanly, you consider opening the door to tell that to his face but decide against it. It’s safer, you might just rip his throat. “You’ll never get it. You were born with this bane. You have no idea what I’m going through because of you.” 

“Fine! I don’t understand anything! Keep cursing me, keep pushing me away...” Chan grunts hollowly, making the hair rise on your body, but not from fear. It's from that something under your skin that’s alive and pulsating every time he’s near. It’s even worse when you’re angry at each other and fighting. “But...” The Beta is a little less explosive when he goes on, though his words still strike you; “Don’t take it out on me when it's about him...  I can’t stand it! It’s killing me!”

Absolute silence falls on the East Wing of the Inferorum Castrum at the comment. You know because you listen intently, breathing rendered heavy by your outburst. You can’t tell if Chan is still there waiting for you to reply with something. You rack your brain, trying to remember why you even started to yell at him today. With you two, it’s becoming second nature, your only way to communicate. He is wrong, this is not about Jaebeom. You should tell Chan that, it's because of why he brought him up. Before you can make up your mind, he is leaving, dragging his feet along the corridor. When the young wolf reaches the stairs, there’s obvious disarray in the living room. He knows the others where eavesdropping with bated breath but doesn’t mind. There’s rarely ever the need for secrecy or intimacy when you belong to a pack. You start to take for granted everyone knows everything about you. As far as Chan remembers, the others also fought with their mates a lot after the marking, it’s just that there was no vampire involved whatsoever. No third party, luckily for them. 

As soon as he enters the room, every head turns to him and he sees that the number of wolves has tripled. They showed up for the dramatic shit show that is his current love affair. He raises a brow, spotting that even Yugyeom and Bambam made it, two incendiary Omegas. God knows where they were before this all started. 

“I hated Sana for a whole year after she turned me,” Youngjae claims, apparently back from his hunt just in time. He’s probably trying to be reassuring, but months of being at each other’s throat don’t sound too appealing to Chan right now. “Cursed her out every single day...”

“He tried to kill me, twice.” Sana deadpans and his arm stretches around her shoulder, patting for forgiveness. Chan doesn’t even bother answering, wiggling from one foot to the other. He wants to go stretch his legs, he craves a turn. He hasn’t been able to escape his responsibilities ever since you joined the pack. Between you yelling at him and your grandmother worrying...

Leaning against a wall, Yeji looks up, hopeful. “Wanna go for a run?” She proposes and Chan smirks at the young Epsilon. He’s yours now, no matter how you feel about it. Yeji will get over her budding crush on him soon.

“Go! I’ll look after your abusive mate for you!” Yugyeom cackles on the sofa. 

“Yeah, we’ll check her out!” Elbowing his friend, Bambam adds; “You still have a few days before the king comes back...” Chan growls at the rebel wolf as a warning. He fully uncovers his canines, but the Omega smiles widely going on; “At least he’s not here to fuck her agai-” 

“Do not talk about my huntress.” In a second, Chan is on Bambam, fisting his shirt and pulling up until their foreheads are pressed against one another. He warns, nostrils flaring and irides glowing yellow; “I’ll kill you.”

“Chan,” Felix murmurs, most sensible, “don’t mind Bam. He’s just-”

“If one of you disrespects her...” Chan’s tone is so low it’s unrecognizable, mouth almost closed. “You’re disrespecting me, understood?” Everyone around the room nods in acknowledgement. It’s not like any would ever stand a chance of winning a fight against the strongest Beta anyways.

“What do we call a wolf that’s whoring around with a leech?” Bambam snickers nonetheless. The Omega must have a death wish. Seconds before Chan guts him – something that is obviously long overdue – a scary howl resounds through the whole Castrum. The entire pack stills at the timed entrance of the Alpha into the living room. They’re all well aware of where he’s coming back from. 

“What do you call a wolf like that, pup? I’m curious...” Though Jackson’s voice is devoid of any irritation, the Omega whimpers and shrinks on himself, frightened.

“A bitch.” Chan barks in his stance, knuckles white on Bambam’s shirt. Jackson hisses through his teeth, apparently appreciative of the slang.

“Clever... How strange, no one ever told me that one before...” The Alpha looks around the room intently. He bursts out laughing when he doesn’t manage to meet anyone’s gaze. Only Chan dares, standing back and releasing the senseless Omega. “Any of you take issue of my personal life?” The large wolf, smiles, bringing his hand to rub the skin of his neck. “Now’s the time, I’m in a lenient mood...” He says it bright and cheerful but none is foolish enough to actually comment.

“Can I go out?” The Beta blurts out, strained. “Or I might just end that cur...” Jackson assesses his second in command for a moment before nodding. Wow. Chan must truly look like shit.

“I’m sure your pup can manage alone for a few hours.”

“Thank you.” The wolf grunts’ immediately shrugging off his clothes as he begins to exit the room. He doesn’t mind the young Epsilon trailing him like a shadow. He craves fresh air, he hasn’t slept in weeks, running until complete exhaustion is exactly what he needs. 

Upstairs, alone in your room, you are mortified. 

The tears you have been crying since your fight with Chan have dried, and you’re shocked by what happened downstairs. You don’t even get why he took your defence at this point, it’s not like you have been anything but horrible to him. You have no idea how you’re supposed to feel or act around the rest of the pack now that you heard all of that.

A bitch.

Lying on your back, you rub your swollen eyelids. Youngjae claimed the mate bond is inevitable. He also said that it’d be even stronger for you because Chan is the one who directly marked you. He’s expected to be the next Alpha and you’re supposed to revere him. You hadn’t realized what this implied before overhearing that fight. Chan has authority, credibility to ensure with the rest of the pack. Youngjae was marked by Jackson, like every other member that wasn’t born from werewolves. You aren’t simply Chan’s mate, you’re also his first. In the future, if you don't act as such they’ll step on him too, you should be careful.

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN