#but can say that hey you're responsible for the man who has been stalking and sexually harassing you

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Hi JWB, your idea to sort the blog is awesome.i always think about arnav challenging Kushi "tum mere baaho mai avogi, tum mujhe apna pati manogi" the scene where he scares her with power cut and arranging rose path.., i always felt the idea of track is off but the scene where Kushi hugs him back and both have a small relief and small on their face makes it worth watching. Could please if possible give us an analysis about it.

Hey Anon!

Thanks for liking the blog sorting!

I have mixed feelings for everything between Khushi's birthday and remarriage.

In context with him blackmailing her over their (unlawful) contractual wedding, hurting her the worst way possible, being abusive by threatening her to not leave the house and unable to say a fucking happy birthday BUT utilizing her fear of darkness - WHICH STEMMED FROM HER PARENTS' DEATHS - yeah, I don't like it.

Out of context he's still being an asshole about it, but it's far more digestible. Like I can see it after the Diwali track when Khushi's pissed about his tirade on money (even after having put her own foot in her mouth) and suddenly claiming, ha, I'm not your wife and him going... ok... we're legally married twice now... let's see how that goes. It's the only way I can see that scene.

Otherwise, Arnav crossed all lines for me to enjoy him on screen (BUT IT ABSOLUTELY SHOULDN'T TAKE AWAY YOUR OR ANYONE ELSE'S ENJOYMENT OF THAT SCENE. Like pls tv is meant for fun, so absolutely love it - just don't think actions like that are cute or anything for your own life. If someone can pull all shit but not say sorry, that's red flags in the biggest way possible. So, as long as you're watching with that awareness - keep enjoying).

Best,

JWB

[thesupreme316]

Had It Coming Part 4!?!?!?!!

IT'S BEEN A LONG TIME COMING SO HERE IT IS

Had It Coming Part 4 (Christian Cage x Female Reader/Hook's Sister/Jack Perry's Ex):

Summary: It seems that you and Christian are going strong. But how does that sit with your ex-boyfriend, Jack Perry?

Word Count: 2.3K (Please accept as an apology for being so late)

Supreme Speaks: thank you guys so much for supporting this series and showing it love. it really means a lot to me. okay, I ain't gonna waste your time any longer. Here is the anticipated part four of this series (it has a dark portrayal of Jack, you don't have to read if you're uncomfortable). Please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: DARK PORTRAYAL OF JACK (tw: obsessive, stalking, in the denial stage, borderline yandere vibes tbh), suggestive mentions, explicit language, proofread to the best of my abilities

Taglist: @hooks-martin @sheinthatfandom @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @hookerforhook @batzy-watzy @wwenhlimagines

It’s been 33 days since he saw you walk away from him with his former mentor and best friend.

And Jack is going crazy.

He legitimately lost it.

Everyone can see it on his face. But they can’t help him…they can only watch as he unravels and continues to ruin his own life. After seeing you run off in the sunset with Christian, Jack became uncharacteristically silent. He wouldn’t even talk to Anna, and when he did, it was screaming and placing blame on her. Anna, who truly wanted to help him, was broken up with before she could even do so. You found that out in the locker room as she was crying to Tay Melo, a sight that was so bittersweet for you to watch.

Jack would walk around the halls, bags under his eyes, genuine stress marrying his facial features, wearing all-black clothes, hair matted, and not utter a single word to anyone. It got so bad that Tony wouldn’t even put him on the screen. He would spend his evenings in the arenas sitting in a corner on top of boxes, just looking over your contact. His thumb would caress your face through the phone screen as his eyes lingered on the contact name “Sunshine.” He tried texting you, asking for you to come back. You never answered. For some reason, he thought changing your name and breaking up with Anna would be enough for you to come back.

It wasn’t.

But even though you didn’t come near him, two people would come near him, offering friendship and shoulders to lean on: Austin and Colton Gunn. They would try their best to get Jack chatting with them as they filled his ears with loud jokes, obnoxious laughter, and weird banter. Although he never cracked a smile, the Gunns were resilient and still provided him with company.

“Hey, Jackie-boy,” Austin said cheerfully, walking up to the sulking wrestler, who would mumble a response. “How ya doing?”

“Man you should have been at the party last night,” Colton said bumping his shoulder. “You could use a night out. There was this insanely cute girl that is exactly your type-” Jack shook his head. Colton looked at his brother before nodding to Jack.

Austin sighed, “Look man, we get it that it’s been a rough month and a half. You lost your best friend, other best friend, title, and girlfriend-“

“I didn’t lose Y/N.” Jack snapped, looking up at the brothers.

Colton and Austin quickly side-eyed each other before Austin continued, “I was talking about Anna…but bro and I mean this respectfully, Y/N left you a while ago.”

“Anna and I were never together. She doesn’t matter to me. Y/N didn’t leave me. We are just going through a rough patch right now.” Jack said while running his fingers through his hair. “It’s not my fault.”

“We’re not saying that it is. We’re just trying to say that maybe there is no future where you and Y/N are together. You need to accept it.”

“No, I’m not going to accept it because it’s not true!” He shouted, startling the Gunns, with Colton hugging Austin in fear. Jack lowered his voice as he continued to talk, “It’s not my fault. It’s not her fault. It’s Christian’s fault.” He whispered to himself. “I didn’t lose my beautiful, innocent, and sweet girlfriend to Christian. That could never happen. He took her from me! Just like how he took my best friend and credit for my career. He just takes everything from me.”

Colton said taking a step forward, “Jack-“

Jack stood up from the boxes, looking into Colton’s eyes with anger, determination, and bitterness, “He filled her head with these images that I’m not the one for her. That he’s better than me. He basically kidnapped her, come to think about it. Yeah…he kidnapped my precious Y/N and started feeding these lies to her. And to make matters worse, Anna came back into the picture and distracted me from realizing it. That’s what happened.” He poked Colton’s chest as he finished his statement, “And I fully intend to get her back.” He swiftly walked away from the brothers as they stared in disbelief.

Austin looked up at Colton, “He is not okay. Where do you think he’s going?”

“It’s 9:00, he's off to do his favorite activity.��

That consisted of Jack watching you from afar when you were by yourself or with your girlfriends; curious if you missed him, if you cried over him, if you were dying to run back to him for safety, comfort, and love.

The answer was no. None of the above.

But the second he saw you with Christian, his stomach would turn and he would run away, not wanting to see the bitter and disgusting man with the love of his life. Jack is miserable, but you? Oh girl, you are thriving right now.

It seemed the longer you and Christian dated, the bigger the smile on your face would get. As Christian stated, if you wanted something, all you had to do was ask. And he has continued to keep that promise. Nowadays, all you have to do is look at him as it seems that he can read your mind. The newest Louboutin heels? He bought them in 5 different colors. You feeling stressed and want to escape? He booked a yacht. You want to ride something while on the yacht? He’s already underneath you, allowing you to take control.

He was a gentleman to you; dropping everything just to assist you, even for a second. You didn’t have to worry about doing a single thing. As long as Christian is beside you, you are sure to be treated like the Princess you are. Hell, he even changed your stance in wrestling. As you were no longer bound by Jack, you took the necessary steps to reconcile with your brother, Tyler (Hook).

As Christian filled your life with love, positivity, and care, you realized that the FTW championship wasn’t something you wanted. So after a couple of defenses, you relinquished it, crowned Tyler the official champion, and started to manage Christian full-time.

But this wasn’t a parasitic relationship where you got all the benefits. Oh no. Christian loved being around you. It just felt right having you near him, with a hand lingering around your waist. Not only did you feed every single one of his sexual and physical needs, you also met and exceeded his emotional needs. You made him feel heard and seen. You see him in a different light than everyone else. He is letting his humane side be seen more now that you are always with him. Because to you, he is more than your lover, he is your protector and motivation.

He is also a great man of taste…

“Willow, he is so sweet! Just yesterday, he drove 45 minutes to sleep beside me because I couldn’t fall asleep. And then, he brought a chef to cook my favorite breakfast!” You yelled out to your best friend while getting dressed for Dynamite.

“That’s great Y/N, I’m so happy to see you smiling again. I haven’t seen you this happy in a while.” Willow said with a grin on her face. To everyone, your relationship with Christian was no more than a typical “sugar baby” transaction. But it was nothing like that, and Willow saw that.

You stepped out in your new dress that complimented your skin tone beautifully. “I know, he truly makes me happy.” As you were about to speak again, there was a knock at the door. You squealed, running to open it and seeing a medium-sized bouquet of white roses. You thanked the man before closing the door. “He always sends me flowers every Wednesday.” You said as you put the vase down. Willow got up and examined them. “But he never gets me white; they’re either red, pink, or orange.”

“Maybe he’s full of surprises,” Willow said as she got closer to the vase. There was another knock at the door, you went to answer it as Willow started to speak again. “Y/N, there is-“ She was cut off by your sequel again. She looked back at you to see you give Christian a soft kiss.

“Hi Princess, how are you?” Christian said hugging you with one arm, the other was behind his back. He twirled you around, “You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you, baby.” You said, placing a kiss on his cheek. Christian greeted Willow while still trying to hide his arm behind his back. “What are you hiding?”

“Well, it is Wednesday and you know I give you flowers-“

You smiled as you cut him off, “Baby, I already got the flowers you sent me. They are beautiful.”

Christian’s face screwed up in confusion, “What are you talking about?” He moved his arm from behind his back to reveal a much larger bouquet of red roses. “The flowers I got you are right here, I wanted to personally deliver them myself today.”

The color drained from your face as you took your boyfriend’s flowers and looked behind you. Willow held the roses in one hand and a paper in the other, as she read the note, the color drained from her face as well. “You need to read this.” She gave you the note. It would have been a very sweet and flattering one….if it was sent from your boyfriend. 


Your laughter, a melody, a joyful song, In my embrace, is where you belong. Each moment with you, a cherished delight, You're my sunshine, my morning light. Love J

Your heart started racing as Christian ripped the note, took the flowers from Willow, and them in the trash. “He’s a piece of shit. That bastard.” He looked at you, who was in shock and disgust. He hugged you tightly, avoiding the roses he got you. “He just needs to leave you alone.”

“Yeah, I’m going to make sure of it.” You said before gently placing the red roses down on the table, taking over from where those distracting and bitter white roses once were.


“No, you will not. You let me handle it, I don’t him anywhere near you. He put you through shit before and I’m not letting that happen.” Christian said getting angrier by the minute, obviously not at you. “I’m going to get Luchasuarus to accompany you tonight. My woman will not go anywhere near him.” He said sternly.

Did you listen? No. Of course not. You left way before Luchasaurus got to your locker room door.

Your heels clicked along the halls as you were trying to find your ex-boyfriend. Anger was pounding through your blood as you carefully looked for him. You were about to turn to go down another hallway until you saw his matted hair in a bun. You stormed towards him, calling out his name. Jack turned around and immediately lit up at your figure getting closer, even though your facial expression was anything but happy.

"Y/N-"

You cut him off by sharply slapping him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" You angrily asked him, not giving him a moment to register anything.

"Sunshine-" He sweetly started to say

"How dare you send me flowers and address me like that? We are not together. That was clear when you cheated on me with Anna"

Jack's face became angry as he spat out, "Don't talk like that. Anna means nothing to me. You love me and I love you. That backstabbing, lunatic, bastard is messing with your mind. Sunshine, just come back with me. Stop this little game of yours, you're letting him get the best of you."

"Jack, stop. I am with Christian; he treats me with love and respect. He actually cares about me and my feelings and treats me like royalty. Much better than the low-down and disgusting ways that you have shown. The only lunatic around here is you. You don't care about me."

"Don't say that!" He yelled, grabbing your arm harshly, "I love you Y/N! He's not the one! I am! Just come back with me and everything will be fine!"

You were struggling to pull your arm away from the man you once loved. Then a voice shouted down the hall, making Jack take his hand off of you. You turned around to find your boyfriend and your supposed bodyguard. Christian gently placed you behind him. "I'll talk to you later about this." He quietly said to you before turning his attention to Jack. "Listen, you have one more time to pull some shit like this-"

"Shut up! This is between me and my girlfriend-"

"MY girlfriend, MY woman, your ex. You have no reason to talk to her anymore. I'll be damned if you try to come between us or weasel your way back into her life." Christian stepped closer to Jack, looking down at him. "Leave her the fuck alone, little boy. Or the next main event for you will be your funeral."

Jack rolled his eyes as Christian grabbed your hand and kissed it before leading you and Luchasaurus down the hallway, away from your ex. You quickly looked back with bitterness and a glare as you turned the corner. But to Jack, that was a look of hope and desperation.

Desperation to get away from Christian, the man who drove you two apart. But also he could have sworn that your eyes were delivering him a message, a message of love and secrecy that was directly for him. "I'm going to save you from this Y/N. You don't have to pretend to have feelings for him much longer. I see your plan, and I understand it. It's genius. As those white roses signify, it will be a new beginning for us. And then, when it's all said and done, Christian will finally see who the real man is."

And according to Jack,

Christian had it coming…

And he only had himself to blame.

[anotherfansthings]

The Happy Couple

Neteyam x f!OmaticayaReader

Synopsis: Y/N’s father was once a fellow warrior to the Ole’eyktan Jake Sully, who died in battle against the sky people. As a dying wish, Sully promised he would take care of and protect his daughter, but what she wasn’t aware of was that they had dealt something of much greater significance. Becoming a future Tsahik to the Ole’eyktan’s eldest son: Neteyam.

Enemies to lovers | Minor violence | Big strong man crying 😍

PART FOUR :

'Y/N' Jake began 'we understand you're distraught from his forceful behaviour, but the boy is right. Much more commitment will be required from you to complete the partnership between you and Neteyam'

'Wow' Y/N scoffed 'I cannot believe you are defending such disgusting actions. I am sacrificing so much for you-'

'My Y/N' Neytiri interrupted with a tired groan

'No my Y/N. There is no Y/N anymore. My future has been stripped away and given to the people. I have absolutely nothing to achieve, everything I do from now on is planned or forced. All of my ambitions banished into the abyss, worthless and forgotten. Please,' Y/N begs 'if I am to give up on all my dreams the least I can have is some control between me and Neteyam, and the support of my family to correct this horrid mate of mine'

The burning tears streaming down your face had only now become evident; puffing your eyes and leaving your throat to be caught in the cold air. You knew by the gruelling looks upon Jake and Neytiris face that their hands were tide. You were stuck. Life now nothing but a force of reproduction and encouragement of the clan.

Jake cleared his tight throat, relieving the heavy tense air 'The Ole'eyktan training should level his stupidity, make him worthy of a leader and capable of acting like a family man, not this forceful nature you say he is acting out' he finished, but without adding an obvious sense of disbelief by widening his eyes at your previous accusation, thinking you were just being overdramatic

'My Eywa!' Y/N challenged 'you don't believe me do you. Can't believe that your perfect little soldier boy would be misbehaving. Wow. You know I had thought for a mere second that I would have the best in-law family, I couldn't have been further from the truth.'

Your words infuriated Neytiri 'Hey! You do not say that about my family. We didn't want this either, but it is sacred that a dying mans wish is fulfilled. You should know of this by now.' she cautioned

'My family huh? You can't hide the fact you both wanted me out of your responsibility. Two orphans too much for you to handle now is it?!' Y/N shouted

Jake was quick to grab your arm and stand tall before you 'Y/N you get that word out of your mouth right now. You and Kiri are just as much as family as we consider our own blood. Don't you dare pull that card right now'

His harsh gaze pained you, building upon the overflow of emotions that were building up inside of you. Instead of scolding you for being disrespectful, he let down his walls, slowly letting his affectionate manor appear before you. Jake's eyes become glazed, preparing to keep your eyes interlocked until he could no longer bear the sight of someone he cared for being this distraught. As soon as the first tear fell, he embraced you fully within his arms, nearly winding you. Neytiri stood with sheer disbelief from her husband actions; never seeing his emotions overtake his soldier mindset outside of their private conversations.

The beautiful moment was interrupted by your one and only, Neteyam.

'Oh my, what has she done to you?' Neteyam snickered 'what lies has she fed to make the dry man cry?'

Without a second thought Neytiri was by his side sending a flick to the side of his ear 'No my son, do not be insolent to your father with such low respect.'

'So, what nonsense has she really brought here'

Y/N turned to meet his eye line, with a face of pure wrath 'How are you even-'

You had subconsciously began to stalk your way over to the stupid boys position, being stopped by Jake.

'Y/N this is my job now' Jake declared, before turning his full attention to his eldest son 'boy we have heard of your behaviours, it should go without saying that we do not condone of these. Y/N now knows her expectations will be greater, but at her control. It's the least we can do. You read me, Neteyam?'

'No.' was all he replied

Y/N scoffed before allowing herself to come face to face with her mate 'No? Sorry poor soldier boy but this is not your decision to make.'

'No! I will not be humiliated like that. Every other worthy man here has the great chance to lead their family, there is no way I will have that taken from me!'

'Ohhhhhh, so it's okay for me to have my whole life stolen away from me, but as soon as Neteyam is asked to spare a small role it is not allowed?' Y/N remarked before spitting at Neteyams stance

The painful silence was quickly broke by Neteyams overly loud clapping in your face 'Well done my Y/N, you finally understand me. I will be in charge of our family as is every other man in the forest, and you shall be devoted in supporting that.' he finished with an endless smirk plastered on his proud face

You couldn't fathom any words to argue against his stupidity, rather choosing to launch yourself at him and just throw your arms at him in any hittable direction. He chose to extend tall and easily defend all of your attempts, but...

Neytiri and Jake were too slow to intervene with the fighting teens, that choice was now something of remourse, as you were laying blacked out unconscious on the floor.

TAGLIST:

@ellielovesrobinarellano

@arminsgfloll

@lu002

@hey-itsriin

@imthefunniestpersonalive

@flower-lise

@mashiromochi

@talbae

@hallows3ve

@pwallettes

@morks-watermelon

@alexiskook21

@neteyems-wifu-frfr

@dakotali

@liyahsocorro

@simp-for-fictional-people

[Sorry this seems a bit rushed and all over the place, for some reason growing up means having stupid responsibilities 🙄. Would much rather write and read Avatar all day 😍]

[cheesetalia]

Teach My Heart to Bend Instead of Breaking Day 4: Secret relationship & Love songs and letters

For @hetalia-rarepairweek's Day 4: Secret relationship & Love songs and letters | England/Canada | warnings: cheating, dubcon relationship

Summary: Keeping secrets, dodging his nosy Papa, and dealing with his older brother's teasing is taking its toll on Matthew. Why is it so hard to be with the man he loves?

Can be read on the Archive of Our Own or underneath the Readmore:

"So when will we meet this mystery man of yours, hmm?" Francis asks.

Matthew doesn't respond, doesn't even look up from where he's scooting peas around his plate with his fork. They make him think of Arthur's green, green eyes. Such a beautiful and rare color is so fitting for such a beautiful and rare man.

"Matthieu?" Francis repeats gently.

"What?" Matthieu asks, finally lifting his gaze up.

He hadn't heard a word, lost in his own world. That wasn't unusual; Francis's youngest son had always been a daydreamer. But it was even more pronounced these days. It brought a smile to Francis's face—he remembered being young and in love for the first time.

"This man, your beau, why don't you invite him over for dinner this week? I will cook my very best," Francis says.

Matthew stills. Then laughs, a weak little chuckle. "You always do your best, Papa."

Francis tosses his head, blonde curls tumbling artfully, and preens. It's true that he takes food seriously, never disrespects his family by simply "throwing something together". To nourish them is an honor. But the flattery doesn't shake him off the trail of the prey he's stalking.

Halfway through his son's first semester in college, he started raving to Francis and Alfred about this "wonderful guy" he'd met, who was "so smart it's crazy" and "has the best sense of humor, he's so witty, you'd love him Papa".

When pressed on this man's name, Matthew had blushed and mumbled "I'd rather not tell you. Alfred might recognize it."

"Ahh, so he goes to your school then?" Francis had asked, but gotten no response in return.

He could understand Matthew's reluctance to tell Alfred anything, his older brother loved to tease him. But surely he could entrust the name of his beloved to his dear papa?

Now, Francis continued to push. "You can invite him over on a night when Alfred will not be here."

"Hey!" Alfred protested.

Francis ignored his eldest son, keeping his blue eyes trained on Matthew's face. Matthew was looking down at his plate, pushing the peas around again. Francis thought he was only playing at distraction this time.

"Matthieu," Francis said.

He didn't want to be pushy, didn't want to pry, when perhaps it was just his son's natural shyness keeping him from introducing his boyfriend to his family. But he didn't like that he didn't even know this man's name. Matthew had been dating him for months now.

"We're never going to meet him," Alfred said, getting the words out around a mouth stuffed full of chicken and peas, "because he doesn't exist."

Francis was about to chide Alfred for speaking with his mouth full (you would think his son was two, not twenty!) but was cut off by Matthew's furious "He does exist!"

"Sure," Alfred smirked, "just like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny."

"You're just jealous because you haven't gotten any action since Kiku dumped you," Matthew said, his voice poisonously sweet.

Kiku had been Alfred's high-school sweetheart, but he'd ended their relationship to move back to Japan for college.

"At least I've had a boyfriend and didn't have to imagine one up like you. All that daydreaming's gone to your head and you've finally cracked," Alfred shot back.

"Boys, please—" Francis tried to cut in.

But it was too late. A hot flurry of insults flew between the brothers, until Matthew was storming off, half-eaten dinner abandoned.

Matthew wiped a tear from his eye as he escaped into the safe confines of his room. He wanted to tell his papa all about Arthur, and had already told him as much as he safely could. He would love to bring Arthur home for dinner, show him off to his family as if they were a normal couple. It would prove Alfred wrong, and he's sure Papa would adore Arthur's intelligence and dry wit as much as Matthew does. Not to mention Arthur is so sweet, deep down. Matthew has never met a more charming, lovable man.

Unfortunately, Arthur is the same age as Papa—a year older, actually. But even that wouldn't stop Matthew—he knows Papa had a few May-December romances of his own back in his youth, and Matthew is sure once his family gets to know Arthur they'll see that the relationship is that of soulmates, that age and gender and physical appearances mean nothing for them. Their chemistry, their compatibility, is beyond ordinary human constraints and considerations.

The problem is, Arthur is also married. And Matthew's teacher. That's why they can only hold hands and kiss when the door of Arthur's office is closed and locked, the shades on the window drawn. Or when they're at Arthur's secluded cabin, miles away from the town and university and anyone who might recognize them.

It hurts; a physical, dull ache in Matthew's chest at having to be apart from Arthur so much, at having to keep such a brilliant and bursting love for him concealed. He's desperate for the day Arthur ends it with Gilberte and they can be together. Arthur worries about them being openly a couple while Matthew is still a student, but Matthew thinks it'll be fine as long as he's not in any of Arthur's classes then. But Arthur doesn't agree; they've argued about it, it's one of the few things they've fought over.

Arthur says he wants Matthew in his classes—says it's not fair to Matthew to get a substandard education because he'll have to take classes with lesser history professors.

"Better to wait til you've graduated love," Arthur had told him, "we don't want this to interfere with your education."

They'd agreed to let it rest for now and cross that bridge when they came to it, but the matter had never been settled between them.

Now, chest heaving and tears streaking down his cheeks in his dark empty room, Matthew isn't sure he can wait that long.

[eremitaerebus]

Been thinking about Laramie's time as a living weapon and whipped up this thing. Camille as a reluctant "oh my gods who fucked you up. Ugh guess I have to help you now??" caretaker??

Camille had been peacefully sleeping. Keyword is had, for when the fire died down and the chill of the night air settled over his undead skin, Laramie's faint warmth was suddenly ripped from him. Snapping awake, he saw his friend (Lover? Friend? Situationship.) breathing hard and very awake, with wild, feral eyes. The moment those pale blue eyes turned on him he'd been pinned down with one hand, electricity coalescing in Laramie's other. The Pheratian prince held him down, snarling viciously in Pheratian, so far gone that he didn't even remember to speak a language Camille could understand.

"Hey hey," Camille coaxes, panic building in his chest. Yeah, Laramie is kinda fucked in the trauma department, but so is he. He's got a fight or flight response to look out for. Calm down, Camille. "Hey, sweetheart. It's alright, it's just me." He says, yet the more he talks the more weight is placed on his chest.

"Séva!" Laramie hisses, which Camille actually can translate. It's Pheratian for 'silence'.

"Laramie!" Camille insists, hoping using his name will coax him back instead of a title like "prince" or "Venthana". "Listen to me! Look at where you are, where are you?"

Laramie snaps back, shouting something at him. The only word he can discern is "Aurethel", the Pheratian word for "matriarch". He brings his electrified arm back in a manner that tips Camille off. He's about to strike.

Preemptively, he curls back from under Laramie to kick him in the chest, shoving the prince away and pushing himself out. The bolt of electricity barely misses him, but he hasn't given up. Using his knowledge that his dexterity is superior than Laramie's firing time, he dodges a few more attacks, snatching a chain they'd earlier used for locking up the chest containing their common valuables (healing potions, lockpicks, the like) and bolting into the forest. The forest engulfs into flames behind him, and he hears a scream. A woman's scream. Eh, Asfenla must have been woken up. Oh well, she can handle herself.

Stalking silently, he can see through the unburned trees that Laramie was now trying to cook Asfenla in one way or another. Gods damn it, sweetheart, if we don't die to this wilderness we'll die to you.

Then, he pounces. Bolting out from the trees, he tackles Laramie, who writhes and snarls and acts nothing like the Laramie that the vampire knows. Gone is the sweet man who listened to his sob stories about his mom dying to Fangstalkers and then his adoptive father dying, and how he was alone. With a sudden surge of solemnity, he chains Laramie's hands behind his back. He pins his love's (No, Camille. That's not the right word. You don't care, remember?) neck to the ground so he couldn't throw his head back and stab Camille with his horns.

"Shhh, little moonbeam," he murmurs, disgusted at himself by the softness in his tone. He should not be acting like this, but here he is. Getting off of Laramie and turning him over, the prince still writhes, looking hungrier for blood than Camille ever has been. And yet, he can't bring himself to hate Laramie. He should. He really should. He's a liability. But as he reaches out to touch the side of the prince's face, and he sees that snarl soften, he remembers why he's doing this. This idiot nobleboy has made him go soft.

His eyes clear of the bloodlust, and fill with heartbreak.

"Cam- Cam, I'm sorry- I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- I'm sorry-"

"No, no. Hush. Now that you're you again, let's get you out-"

"No!" Laramie practically shouts. Then he seems to realize his mistake. "I mean... no thank you. I'm dangerous."

The shuffling of Asfenla's feet remind him of her presence. "If you wanna keep yourself chained up like a dog, feel free. But if you scorch me like that again I'll cut your throat out."

Camille gives Asfenla a warning glare. "Shut it, Fangstalker."

She huffs, but does back off.

"It's okay, Laramie. Come on, let's get you out. Then we can talk."

Ugh, talking. Usually his last resort. But part of him knew now that it was the best thing to do.

[fqolinlove]

જ⁀➴ The Day That Was.

╰┈ BEWARE OF .. violence, swearing, bad writing, mention of murder

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

On the seventh hour of the first day of October, 1989, a woman went into labor. This was unusual in no way whatsoever. The culmination of a normal, average pregnancy. The child was average in every way. Unfortunately for the world, the circumstances of his raising.

Sir Hargreeves stepped out of the Limo, along with seven children, all wearing domino masks to protect them from the real world. The kids all walked up the sidewalk to their home when Number Three’s arm was caught by another person. 

“Excuse me. I'm your biggest fan.” His little voice called out. He was dressed much like the kids. Number Three got her arm out of his grip and stalked forward as Number One grabbed the arm of the kid. 

“Hey, hey. You're not supposed to be in here.”

“Get back behind the barricade!” Sir Hargreeves shouted over the noise of the crowd. Number One walked with Number Three to the front of the house.

“It's just I was born on the same day as the Academy kids. I think I'm like them. I must be. I haven't quite figured out what my power is yet. But maybe with your help, we can find out.” His voice was cheerful and full of curiosity. 

“You have no power. You never will have power.” Sir Hargreeves shot down. “Now, go home.”

“No, please. Just I You have to let me stay. I came all this way. Please don't make me go back.”

“A little word of advice, my boy. Not everyone in this world can be powerful. Chasing something unattainable is a recipe for a lifetime of disappointment and resentment. So get off my property.” He grabbed the boy by the back of his collar, shoving him off the yard. The crowd laughed as the boy stood shocked.

“Hey, don’t listen to what he said. Everyone has magic in them, you just gotta find your spark.” The little boy turned to be face to face with Number Eight. Before he could reply, Hargreeves was calling to her and she rushed away, not wanting to get into trouble. The gate closed on the boy and his eyes filled with hatred.

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“I don't know.” Five threw his coffee cup. “Yet. But I do know that he's responsible for the apocalypse. So we have to find him. And we have to do it now.”

“H-How is he connected to what's gonna happen?”

“I don't know.”

“Wait, so you just know his name? That's it?” Diego stepped forward.

Five shrugged. “That's enough.”

“There's probably dozens of Harold Jenkinses in the city. The man shot back.

“Well, we just better start looking, then.”

“I’m sorry, and I the only one who is skeptical here? I mean, how exactly do you know all of this about what's his name?” Allison interrogated.

“Harold Jenkins.” Y/N said, coming to stand next to Five.

“You know those lunatics in masks who attacked the house?”

“Oh, yeah, I think I remember those guys.” Klaus says sarcastically.

“Yeah, the ones that attacked us while you were getting drunk.”

“Yeah. Them.” Five nodded. They were sent by the Temps Commission to stop me, and now Y/N,  from coming back, and preventing the end of life on Earth.”

“The Temps what?”

“My former employer. They monitor all of time and space to make sure that whatever is supposed to happen happens. They believe the apocalypse is coming in three days. So we went to Commission headquarters and intercepted a message that was meant for said lunatics. "Protect Harold Jenkins." So he must be responsible for the apocalypse.” It was silent for a moment before everyone started speaking at the same time. 

“Do you have any idea how insane this sounds?” Allison furrowed her eyebrows.

“You know what else is insane?” Five was getting frustrated. “Y/N and I look like a 13-year-olds, Klaus talks to the dead, and Luther thinks he's fooling everybody with that overcoat. Everything about us is insane. It always has been.”

“He's got a point there.”

“We didn't choose this life, we're just living it. For the next three days, anyway."

“But the last time we tried to stop it, we all died. Why is this time any different? Why shouldn't I go home to my daughter?” Number Three kept her questions coming.

“Because this time, I'm here. We have the name of the man responsible. Guys, we actually have the chance of saving the lives of billions of people. Including Claire.”

Allison stepped forward. “You know her name?” 

“I do, and I'd like to live long enough to meet her.”

“All right.” Allison nodded. “Let's get this bastard.”

“You had me at Gerald Jenkins.”

“It’s Harold Jenkins, come on people.” Y/N shook her head.

“Whatever. I've already lost two people this week, I'm not losing anyone else.” With that, Diego started to walk away.

“And Luther?”

“Yeah, you go. I'm gonna stay and go through Dad's files. I still think this has something to do with why he sent me to the Moon.”

“Seriously?” Diego turned around. “Now you wanna make the end of the world about you and Dad?”

“No. "Watch for threats." That's what he told me. You think that's a coincidence? This all has to be connected somehow.”

“No, we should all stick together.” Allison quietly tells him. Something between the two seemed different. 

“We don't have time for this.” Five shouted.

“Let's roll. I know where we can find this asshole. Klaus, you're with me.”

“Yeah. I-I'm good. I think I'll, uh I think I'll pass, I'm feeling a little under the weather, so, uh.” Klaus groans as he walks out of the living room. Diego, Five and Y/N on his tail.

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“I know this Jenkins dude has to have a record. We gotta get our hands on this file.” Diego said as he turned off the car.

“And your plan is to what? Waltz in there and just ask for it?” Allison asked from beside Y/N in the backseat.

“I know the station like the back of my hand, sis.” He puts his black gloves on. “I've spent a lot of time inside.”

Y/N scoffs. “Yeah. Handcuffed.”

“Whatever. Here's the plan-”

“Plan? I'm just gonna blink in and get the file.”

“No, that's not.. You don't know the ins and outs of this place, okay?” Diego says back.

“I literally just did this yesterday.”

“What?” Diego asks confused, causing Y/N to chuckle. 

“My yesterday, not your yesterday. It'll take me two seconds. Why don't I just go?”

“Listen to me.” Y/N watched as Allison shook her head. “You are not going in there. I made a call. That's what a leader does. He leads.” Diego stepped out of the car and left around a corner to do his leading job. With the trio left behind it was quiet. Allison stood at the phone while Five leaned onto the building behind him. Y/N paced with her arms crossed waiting for her brother.

“Hey, Vanya, it's me.” Allison spoke into the phone. “I just wanted to.. things have gotten so messed up. And all I ever wanted was to be a good sister to you. Guess I pretty much failed at that. But you need to call me. Okay? I love you, sis.” The receiver clicks as Allison puts the phone down, just in time for Diego to arrive.

“So?” He tries to snag the blue folder from Diego but he moves it out of his reach.

“You're welcome.” Allison grabs it , opening it up.

“Holy shit.”

“What?” 

“Harold Jenkins is Leonard Peabody.” She holds up the folder, showing his picture.

-

“Be careful, okay?” They exit the car once again, but this time outaide of Harold’s home. “We don't know what Peabody's capable of.”

“Yeah, he didn't seem dangerous when I first saw him. Looked kinda scrawny.”

“Yeah, well, so are most serial killers and mass murderers.” Aliison pointed to Five. “I mean, look at him”

.”Thanks.”

“Good point. So what's this guy want with Vanya?” Allison walks off around the house, leaving Diego with Y/N and Five.

“I don't know. How about we ask him after we kill him?”

“Whoa, whoa. Hey, look, I'm gonna burst through-” Number Two turns around to see Allison gone. “You know what? It would be nice for people just to stick to The plan-” He’s cut off when Five jumps away, probably into the house. “Great. You gonna leave too?”

Y/N shook her head. “Got nowhere to go.” She watches as Diego takes a step back before jumping through the window on the door, landing on his stomach. 

“Subtle.”

Five opens the door. ‘You know, the door was unlocked.” Y/N takes the chance to walk in.

“Yeah, well, my way works just fine. Spread out. Yell if you, uh you know, you're in trouble.” Diego stands up, dazed as he walks away.

Five sighs. “Ah, inspiring leadership.”

“One of the greats.”

“Our brother is an idiot.”

Y/N walks away to investigate. She makes her way into the kitchen with Diego, which didn’t seen all that clean but who was she to judge. There was cabinets left open and some pans missing. She was about to look at the poster Diego called her for when Allison yells out.

“Guys, you need to see this.” Diego and Y/N share a look before running the to stairs. Allison’s voice was coming from the attic. They each made their way up the attic latter to see multiple Umbrella Academy posters and their figurine dolls with scratched out eyes and burnt faces.

“All our faces are burnt off. Except Y/N’s” What? Y/N looked to see her figurine standing tall and proud with her poster behind it. The face wasn’t hurt and the eyes weren’t gouged out.

“Well, that's not creepy. This guy's got some serious issues.” Diego examined the room more, putting his arm over Y/N’s shoulder for his own comfort.

Allison gasps. “This was never about Vanya. This was about us.” From beside Y/N, she heard Five’s uneven breathing. 

“Five?” Are you-” She was cut off when Five sighs and falls to the floor, clutching his stomach. The two adults and kid shuffled down to sit beside Five. Y/N carefully lifted his shirt where his hand was, a gunshot wound leaking fresh blood. “What the hell, Five! Why didn’t you say anything!” Y/N put her hands over his wound, causing him to flinch.

“You have to keep going. So close.” His eyes closed, he almost looked dead. Y/N slapped his cheek gently.

“Five. Five! Wake up old man!” She pressed harder onto the shot, drying to get it to draw less blood. Y/N was mumbling words neither adult could hear. They looked at each other, never seen her this way, and quickly helped get Five ti the car.

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Allison sighs, her feet shuffling against the floor and she lifted Five by his armpits. “Damn it We should have taken him to the hospital.”

“A kid with a shrapnel wound might raise some questions.” Five muttered. Diego shook his head, his arms carrying Five’s feet.

“And so does the murder shrine in Harold Jenkins' attic. Come on guys, he’s losing blood. What do we do?” They laid him on the couch and Allison took off her jacket, removing Y/N’s hands and pressing it on the wound.

“We gotta get the shrapnel out.” Diego’s head was high when he started to walk away.

“Diego, where are you going?” Allison called out. Y/N shook her head, blinking back stressed tears.

It was only when Five was stable and Grace helped him get better was when Y/N left his side to wash her hands. She looked at her reflection, she look tired, defeated. When she was done, she walked out and stood by Diego outside of Five’s door.

“Anything?” Diego asked Allison when she walked over to them.

“There's no answer at Vanya's place. And the receptionist at her music school said she was a no-show for her lessons today.” Diego nodded, turning around.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “I don't know, it's just surreal seeing her. I just wanna tell her that I'm s.. We don't have enough time. We gotta go.”

“I don't know, Diego.” Allison looked to Five. “Five is laying there, unconscious. We need him.”

“We can do this ourselves.”

“We did that already, remember? We all ended up dead. I don't know. I'm just I'm thinking I should go and see Claire before-” 

“You can't run away from this, Allison. That's what started this whole mess in the first place.” Diego sighed. “Luther was right.”

Y/N scoffs. “That’s something no one would ever expect you to say.”

“Yeah, well we gotta stick together.”

“Where do we start?”

“There's no other addresses in the file, but there is another relation listed. Jenkins' grandmother. She lived near Jackpine Road.” Diego made his way over to the stairs.

“Hey guys,” The two turned to face Y/N. “could I just.. have a moment before we go?” She pointed into Five’s room. 

“You don’t have to go, Y/N.” Allison says sweetly. Y/N shook her head.

“No, I-I want too, I just want to say goodbye first.” They nodded, telling her to be quick. Y/N quickly made her way into the room, sighing before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Five’s forehead. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Don’t get into too much trouble.” She sniffled, exiting the room before she could change her mind and met up with Allison and Diego.

The trio walked out of the mansion, walking to the car before Diego pulled them the other way. “Nope. Come on, this way.”

“Wait, but the car is back that way.”

“Trust me, okay? Come on.”

“But what is going on?”

“They're here for me.” Y/N looked back to see cop cars at the end of the street. “Uh.. They think I did something.”

“Dee. What do they think you did?” Their sirens whoop as Diego answers.

“Murder.”

“Did you?” Allison asks, placing her hand on his arm. 

“No, no, no, of course not, okay? Why would you ask that about me, anyway?”

Allison shrugged, walking quicker. ““I mean, you do carry knives with you everywhere.” 

“Yeah, okay, we're gonna have to split, okay?” More sirens wail. “I'm in charge. Remember? Vanya needs you both.”

“Diego, no!” 

“Y/N listen to me.” He crouched down so he was her height, hands on her shoulders. “I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can. Go with Allison, go help Vanya.” He pulled her in for a small hug before sending her off with Allison.

“Don't do anything stupid, okay?”

-

The rain beating on the windshield was the only sound in the car, sometimes Allison’s breathing would quicken but she’d fix it at a face past. Y/N looked over, seeing her sister shed a few tears as she stared ahead of her at the dark, wet road. Y/N wouldn’t admit it out loud, but she was scared. Scared for Allison and her, scared for Diego, and scared for Five.

Five.

He made her feel weird, made her feel a way the others couldn’t so quickly it scared her. She ran over her head so many times that she may liked him, but denied it many, many times. She was getting distracted. She need to focus on saving Vanya, then run over her growing feelings for Five.

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Taglist: @venomsvl @dani5216 @mysticwitchcraftco @wifeofcamillamacaulay @anastas2904 @luvl3yt @ev-ems @sacrificialstars @annitrice-does-things @that-nonbinary-ass

[kingkatsuki]

Okay but that one ask where Bakugo shares you with the bros 😏

Hear me out tho...

The five of you lay in a heap on Bakugo' bed. You are nearly asleep while Katsuki plays with your hair watching his three best friends snoring on the other side of you. Kirishima is curled up against you sleeping like a rock. A slight smile spread across his clearly spent face. Kami is turned with his back touching Kirishima, his face nearly buried in Sero's torso. You hum quietly as Katsuki starts snoring behind you.

Silently you slip out of bed now awake and desperately realizing how much you need a glass of water. You slink to the kitchen careful not to wake the boys. Your boys.

Or so you thought.. you are startled by a loud ping! Coming from Denki's phone left on the kitchen counter. You know that you shouldn't but curiosity grasps at you as you reach for his phone wondering who could be texting him at this hour.

*Daddy* flashes across the bright screen. You nearly choke on your water as you realize that Kami is seeing someone.

*Missed you tonight baby boy* (image attached) comes up as you open his phone. Hey you'd come this far you needed to know who else was vying for the blonds attention.

The message opens along with a picture of "holy crap is that shinsho?!" You scream whisper to yourself spilling water on the counter as you stare at the picture of Shinso smirking down at the camera with his cock on full display in the light of the selfie illuminating his bedroom.

A collar with a tag on it hangs on the wall behind him.

You know you shouldn't be turned on at the thought of yet another man other than your boyfriend but you can't help the heat and wetness pooling between your thighs.

You start to move your hand down your torso stopping to rub at your nipple. Caressing your stomach on its way down and down to your pussy. You almost have your underwear shimmied down your legs

"well I was gonna ask what you're doing out of bed there sweetness but clearly your busy" Sero chuckles behind you.

You try to conjure up a response as he has literally caught you with your hands down your pants nearly drooling over a picture of Shinso's cock.

"uh uh" he starts toward you as you try to put the phone down and pretend nothing is happening.

"I saw you honey no need to get all shy now that you have a ln audience."

He stalks across the kitchen to pin you against the counter.

"Let's go show your Daddy what you've been up to on your own" he says as he plunges his fingers in your wetness pulling back out to mutter "so damn wet again you really can't get enough can you" as he leads you by the small of your back to your bedroom.

"Please Sero," you mutter shyly "I'll get punished for touching myself without Suki there."

"I think you'll probably be in more trouble for calling him Suki in front of me than being the hot little minx you are" he says as he pushes you against the bedroom door to get one last kiss and taste of you all to himself before he has to share you again.

"Oh boys!" He chirps opening the door loudly

"What the fuck Man!" Bakugo groans as mumbles of "5 more minutes" and "why so early" come out of the other two men abruptly awoken.

"Our precious baby was caught with her hands down her pants again" he says watching as Bakugo nearly shoots up in bed.

"And the best part. We need a bigger bed because it turns out y/n isn't the only bottom in the room." He pauses "Isn't that right Baby Boy?"

Denki opens his eyes and looks towards you and Sero. Sero is holding his phone with the picture of Shinso and his collar on full display for the other men.

"Wow Kami didn't know you were into that." Kirishima moans out as he swings himself on top of Denki.

Bakugo is still speechless but he covers in up by waking over to you and grasping you by the neck. "God damn you shitty woman. I thought four dicks stuffing you would be enough but now you're horny for another." He booms out shoving you to your knees.

"Oh calm down Suki" Sero chuckles looking away from Kirishima and Denki on the bed only to have the wind knocked out of him as Bakugo shoves him against a wall

"Only princess and maybe Kami get to call me that. Unless you wanna be my bottom too?!" Kat says as he shoves his tongue down Sero's throat. Sero instantly moans and fights him back for dominance in the kiss.

You moan from your position on the floor knowing better than to get up once Bakugo had sat you down somewhere.

"Hey Kat," Kirishima says from across the room as he shoves his third finger in Denki's ass. "Guess we should call Shinso since Denki can't seem to figure out if I'm his Daddy or if Shinso is."

Bakugo chuckles lowly against Sero's neck where he just planted a hickey. "Good Idea Eijiro."

You scramble across the room after Bakugo nods at you grabbing Denki's phone and pressing the call button.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Kami moans out while Kirishima pounds into him from behind.

"Hello" Shinso says as he picks up the call "what's up babe?"

"Fuck Fuck me Daddy!" Kami yells "Oh my god Kiri I'm cumming!"

"Hey Shinso meet us at Bakugo and y/n's place if you want your bitch back" Kiri says between thrusts.

"Fuck." Shinso mutters "I'm on my way" he says hanging up.

Oops I did a thing 😏 Let me know if you want more 🙈

Anon this is a whole masterpiece you should be the one writing this.😳 Reader is about to be broken 👀

[one-boring-person]

Requested by: @phantomshadow13

I hope you like it!😊💛

Killjoy.

John Rambo (Rambo III) x reader

Warnings: minor death, cringy ass cat name because I couldn't think of better

Masterlist

The familiar sound of padding footsteps, or rather pawsteps, draws me from the book in my lap, my head lifting to find the source of the quiet noise. A smile plays at my lips as I catch sight of the lithe black cat trotting over to my hammock, his wide green eyes staring up at me as he makes a light chirping sound in greeting, his tail in the air as he comes over. Placing down my book, I swing myself off of the hammock and crouch down to meet him, chuckling when he immediately butts his head against my hand, rubbing himself against me with a low purr of content. 

"Hey, buddy, where've you been?" I murmur to him, scratching behind his ears as he arches up into my touch, eyes dropping closed in enjoyment, "You've been gone all day."

The cat, who John aptly named Killer due to his slightly murderous nature, chirps again, as if in reply, moving away towards the other end of the veranda my hammock is areung up on, glancing back at me with a swish of his tail. Curious, I stand and follow him, amused by his need for attention as he meows at me, almost as if telling me to go faster, ears flicked back to make sure I'm still following. Easily keeping pace with him, I let him lead me to the steps of our little living area, where I stop stock still.

Killer stalks nonchalantly over to his latest prey, pawing at the disgruntled snake with no apparent care for the danger that poses. In response the snake hisses and curls in on itself, drawing back with intention to strike out, the sight of which makes me highly nervous.

Eyes wide, I move in and grab Killer, cradling the cat to my chest as I debate what to do, holding the writhing animal steady as he tries to get away, batting at my face as he attempts to get back at his new quarry.

"What the hell am I supposed to do now, you daft cat?" I mutter to him, rolling my eyes at his antics, not unused to this occurrence.

When John and I had first moved into the living quarters at the monastery, we'd quickly found the small black cat squatting here, using it for shelter as much as we did. Naturally, the two of us decided to take him in, finding the little animal endearing and sweet, and particularly affectionate. We never named him, not until he started to bring back dead animals, which was just small birds and mice-type things at first, prompting John to eventually start nicknaming him Killer, a name I wasn't so sure about, but that stuck in any case. As time went on, the black cat then brought back bigger and more interesting kills, or prey, as some were not even dead yet, things like large spiders, huge rats and some lizards making appearances on our front step, amongst the assortment of random bits and pieces he also brought us. Neither John nor I care too much, choosing just to clear away any dead animals, or catch and free any living ones, accepting that this may well be Killer's way of showing some affection.

He's never, however, brought back a snake before.

Looking at it now, I'm surprised he managed to catch that thing, acknowledging that snakes are mostly very fast animals, much too agile for a cat to catch, normally. Just as I think this, however, Killer manages to wriggle free of my grip, launching himself at the snake, ignoring the hiss it sends his way, spitting back at it instead, fur fluffing up around his body. I don't quite manage to catch him, calling out his name as he leaps at the snake, which draws back and prepares to strike properly, its jaw opening to reveal needle-sharp fangs.

At the last minute, Killer finds himself once again lifted into the air, this time by John, who walks up the steps in time to see him try and make a lunge. The veteran manages to grip the cat much tighter, soothing him a little as he rubs Killer's head, eyes swiftly finding the snake as he tries to ignore the cat's paws batting at his slightly sweaty hair.

"He brought back a snake?!" Is all he can say, brow furrowed, almost as if impressed.

"Yeah, a dangerous one, too." I reply grimly, edging slowly to the side to grab a nearby stick we use for John's fighting.

"He goes for the big guns." John chuckles, carefully holding Killer, who has relaxed into the man's grip, always having preferred his touch to mine.

"Yeah, he really does." I respond, moving up to the snake in its blind spot, before reaching out and swiftly flicking it into the bushes by our little hut.

Thankfully, the trick works, the snake disappearing back into the wild as both John and I relax, Killer letting out a low whine, struggling to get out of John's grip. Shaking his head, John sets him down, stroking along the cat's back before he trots off to another corner of the living space to sulk.

Exchanging a glance, we laugh a little, the sweaty man coming over to briefly wrap an arm around my waist, pulling me in to press a swift kiss to my lips. Kissing back, I smile into the gesture until he pulls away, moving away from me to pull off his shirt, exposing his muscular torso to the cooling evening air, the beads of sweat glistening in the fading light. Unable to tear my eyes away, I watch as each muscle ripples with each movement, eyeing him as he shakes out his long hair, his dark eyes easily meeting mine again.

"You're staring." He points out, smirking a little.

Blushing, I blink and look away, laughing him off.

"Wasn't staring at you." I try to disagree, though I know he definitely caught me.

"Not what it looked like." John murmurs, suddenly much closer to me, face inches from mine, his breath fanning out over my face, our lips nearly touching.

Swallowing, I told my head up a little, waiting for him to make a move, only to be interrupted by a series of meows. We both sigh, glancing over at the black cat, who is now laying in the corner, green eyes narrowed as he watches us, his expression almost disapproving.

"Killjoy." I mutter, heat rising to my cheeks as John chuckles and steps away again, grabbing a clean shirt, which he pulls on.

"I called him Killer for a reason." He shrugs, taking a seat on his hammock, the two of us watching as our adopted cat glares off into the distance.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ FALLING IN LOVE WITH A BIKER ❜

with Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa.

Request: hermaaaaaana, hello😊 literalmente que llevo veinte minutos pensando en que te puedo preguntar but i think i got it. so if it’s okay for you, i would like to request a headcanon with bishop in which he mets the reader for first time and it’s love at first sight or something like that, only if you are comfortable with it. Thank youuuuuuu💖

BY @aquamento

Word count: about 1.9k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

“Please… tell me that bike is yours”.

Bishop is stationed in front of the Reyes carnicería, with the rest of his crew at both sides. His eyes are glued on your anatomy, touring the random tattoos all around your arms and enraptured on the way your hips move covered by a pair of black bike shorts. His heart stops when he sees you hanging the meat packet by your teeth, to wear the leather gloves, before keeping your order on the bag of your Harley.

“Fuck”.

Wearing the helmet, while you sit on top of your motorcycle, you raise your eyes feeling strongly stalked. You can't help but chuckle wearing your sunglasses, before turning on the engine. Chewing a mint gun, you pass them away with a funny smirk installed on your face. Probably, they have never seen a girl like you, and you're not actually surprised after seeing how women are in Santo Padre. You have three kinds: uptight, too old or too used. And you look like candy at a school gate. Mayans are the children.

He begs and prays to run into you, riding the city every night at the same hour, around Felipe's carnicería.

He doesn't lose hope for almost one month. But after this much time, he starts to be desperate. Bishop could have memorized your plate, but he was too busy admiring your mere existence.

Taza tried to help him, by using the database statewide using the model of your bike. But there were too many results, with different names of men and women, and none based on Santo Padre.

He has suddenly fallen in love and he doesn't even know your name.

Until he met you again.

Sipping by the straw of your cup of coffee, you're checking some messages of your father. You have forgotten your laptop in Santa Madre and you need it for work, so you're trying to convince him to bring it to your new town.

“(Y/N)”.

Frowning confused by the male hoarse voice, you raise your eyes from the screen, finding a middle-age man with a dense moustache over his smile.

“Do I know you?”

“I'm Obispo. Obispo Losa, but you can call me Bishop”. He offers you a hand, narrowing it with your left one in an awkward move that makes the two of you laugh. “Southpaw?”

“Got a coffee in my right”. You reply shaking your hand.

“I stopped you 'cause I like your bike”.

“Ain't selling”.

“I wasn't trying to buy it, it's just a compliment”. He says wearing his gloves, bowing down his head for a second. “I run the scrapyard, in case you need a rechange, or something”.

“It's good to know it”.

You watch him leaving you there, puckering your lips while you turn slightly, before continuing with your walk.

He was nervous as fuck trying to you, but it looks like that his trap can works on you.

And actually, it does. He has woken up an interest in you. Not because of his kutte, but because the way he had of licking his incisors with the tip of his tongue when you laughed.

These small details not everyone pays attention to.

And you take the bait. His bait.

You didn't have any excuse to visit the scrapyard, so with all the pain squeezing your heart, you hammer a nail in the back tire of your bike. Almost dragging it for one mile, you reach the place. That's going to cost you some bucks, but it's worth it. Anchoring the kickstand close to the office, you follow the rhythmic latin music to flood into a crowded yard. Sounds like a party. Looks like a party. With the hands kept in the back pockets of your shorts, you lean over your tiptoes trying to find the owner.

“Need help, mami?” A mexican accent makes you turn to your left.

“Yeah, 'am looking for… Obispo?” You say wrinkling your nose at the man with long black hair and a cigar on his lips, having a smoke.

“Yo! Prez!” Turning away, the man yells another name you can't understand.

Your orbs find the darkest ones, but what you see instead of what you were expecting provokes you some bitter shivers. On his lap there's an exuberant woman, wearing nothing but a short skirt and a white lace bra, and one of his hands caressing her thigh. Who the fuck is that guy and who the fuck does he think you are? Regretting your decision of coming, you turn over your steps to not continue looking at him, crossing your arms over your chest almost kicking the dust with the tip of your sneakers.

“You came”. He sounds excited, but somewhat nervous.

“Yeah, and now I would prefer to haven't done it”, you think to yourself.

“Yeah, I just… had a problem with a wheel and a nail”. You reply, shrugging your shoulders. “But that guy can attend me, you don't have to. I mean, you were occupied”.

“Is she jealous?”, he thinks to himself.

“I have time for you, querida”.

Wrong words. You're not going to fall again, not after what you have seen.

“I only need a wheel. I will come back tomorrow evening”.

“Don't you want a beer?” He sounds disappointed and a little annoyed, raising a hand over his shoulder to point at the party happening behind him.

“No, thanks”.

Watching you go is painful. A kind of sorrow that he never thought that he could feel.

After telling his brothers what happened, they counsel him to wait till the next day.

But you don't go to the scrapyard. You don't want to see him, even if you know that you have to pick up your bike.

Finally, you come back two days later.

Knocking the metallic door, you walk inside the office. The man who attended you the first time and another with strange hands receive you.

“I came for the black and red Harley”.

“Yeah, mami, give me a second”.

The men disappear from the place, while you take a seat on an old leather couch, crossing one leg above the other; moving it impatiently. But again, you have to take off your eyes from the screen of your phone, hearing his voice calling you.

“The bike is ready”. Obispo says with a fleeting smile appearing on his face.

“Good. How much do I own you?” You ask getting up, trying to not look at him too much and focusing on the bill he offers you.

“Nothing, it's on me”.

“Thanks, but I wanna pay”.

“Well, ain't gonna charge you”. He sentences with a chuckle.

Puckering your lips with a forced smile, you pass him away to step out from the office, looking for your bike.

“Hey, wait”.

“What?”

“She's just a friend”.

You pretend that you don't know what he's talking about, making him snort rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“The girl. In the party. She's just a friend”.

“Bueno, congrats”. You just reply, about to walk away again.

“I was wondering if you would like to hang out one day”. These words stop your legs. “Have some beers, a ride, maybe a dinner. Or a lunch. Whatever”.

He's trying. He's trying to fix up what he fucked up. And you are not sure about what response you can give him back. You want to say yes, but, for what? To end like his friend? Sitting on his lap almost naked, surrounded by drunk bikers?

“Sorry, I ain't your type. Don't lose your time”.

You can't believe what you just said, sounding so rude and proud. Bishop frowns.

“My type? And which is my type?” Now, you have offended him, watching him intertwining his hands under his abdomen. Expecting.

“Cheap makeup to leave marks. Lingerie and short skirts. Laughter when something isn't funny. Work hard to look like a man's trophy… Definitely, I'm not your type. I mean, you must be however you want to be, but… sorry, that's not my game”.

“That isn't my game either”. He replies tilting his neck to the left side for some seconds. “I prefer the ones who call me out when I'm being a pendejo”.

“Mommy issues?” Making fun of him, you raise both eyebrows. He chuckles shaking his head. “Thanks for the wheel”.

You don't need no man, but could God please send to you a normal one?

Bishop feels fucked than ever. Annoyed. Bothered.

He tries to figure out how to make it up to you, but he has never had to do something like that.

And his brothers can't help him either.

So he plays one of his best cards.

Be sincere.

The next time he sees you walking around, he makes to stop the whole crew behind him. Jumping off from his bike, he crosses the road with a slow sprint to not being run over. Rolling your eyes, you don't stop your path. Not even when he reaches you.

“Can you listen to me for a second?”

Placing himself in front of you, the man takes off his sunglasses.

“I'm hurry”.

“One sec—”.

“One”. You just say, counting it about to walk away. A hand around your left wrists holds you.

“Please”.

Hearing him beg to you wasn't on your to-do list for today. Facing him with no gesture on you lets him know that you are granting him a second.

“You're gonna think I'm crazy because I have never fell in love at first sight, but when I saw you the first time I fucking swear that you stole my heart, querida. I have been looking for you for a month. Every night. Same hour. Trying to catch the opportunity of talking to you. And maybe, just maybe, I tried to find you by the model of your bike”. You can't lie. You weren't expecting that confession. “I really felt like shit when I saw you in the scrap. The way your face changed when you saw that girl sat on me. And I'm really sorry”.

You don't have a word to reply. Confused. Overwhelmed by a lot of sensations running through your body.

“I ain't the kind of man who… you know what I'm trying to say. And I didn't mean to offend you”.

He keeps silent, waiting for you to say something.

“This has been more than one second”. You try to joke, a little nervous. And you make him laugh again.

“Listen, I know a place with the best meat in the whole California, and a lot of different sauces to dip in. It's forty minutes away, but we can have a ride together”.

“Sounds good, but… I'm on my way to work”.

“We can go whenever you want”.

Bishop isn't going to give up, and you know it.

“You said you're in a hurry, let me take you to your job and think about it on this ride”.

You finally accept, knowing that he's not going to accept a decline as an answer.

And when he finds out that you work in the hospital, he's totally amazed.

And he earns your number after being so sincere with you.

“Maybe, just maybe, I put the nail on purpose”. You confess then, walking backwards to the entrance, facing him with a smile on your face.

[tomurasprincess]

Hey! Saw that you're asking for requests. Can you do Yandere!Overhaul x Reader with 36) “Is it so hard to love me? What’s so wrong with me?” and 5) Jealousy?

Pairing: Overhaul x Reader Quote: Is it so hard to love me? What’s so wrong with me? Word: Jealousy Warnings: murder, kidnapping, stalking, yandere Note: SFW, but still very dark and yandere.  Overhaul is new for me to write, but he seems fairly fun. Hopefully I got his character down decently!

~~~~

You have no idea why you’re being dragged down the hallway of the Shie Hassaikai’s winding, mazelike base by Chronostasis. You have dug through your mind, trying to think of something you gave away, something worthy of being taken straight to Overhaul. But you can think of nothing. You had been so careful, covered your tracks so well.

You’ve been involved with the yakuza for as long as you can remember, with your father having served the former Boss. Things were different with him in charge. The morals of the yakuza were infallible, and they were looked highly upon despite their affiliation.  But then the Boss got sick and was put in a coma for his own safety. Since then, the morals of the yakuza were degrading.  The members were getting restless, not trusting the new boss, but too afraid to stand up for themselves.

Your father had been one of the most vocal members after the new leadership took over. He spoke out about the change of direction, about how he felt the new boss was no longer serving the true values of the Boss. He was also suspicious of the sudden illness, believing Overhaul was responsible for it. You believed it too, especially when your father died of mysterious circumstances not long after the allegations were made.

But there was nothing to be done and no way to escape. Overhaul, or Kai Chisaki, as you used to know him as, has a strange attachment to you. Someone so high up should have no reason to be around a lowly, quirkless worker such as you, someone who only helped her father out with minor paperwork.  Your father never wanted you involved in any of the dirty business.

But Overhaul was always lurking, always coming to visit you. He was an unsettling, cold man to deal with, and it became even worse after your father died. He had become more bold with you, not even trying to hide the fact that he was monitoring your movements, either him or through Chronostasis.

You were no longer even allowed outside of the base, and you felt like you were going to suffocate under the watchful stare of Kai Chisaki. You feared what he would do if you ran, but you feared what he would do if you stayed even more.

You had a sneaking suspicion deep in your gut what he truly wanted from you. And you did not want to stay around for it. So you had begun to plan an escape from the yakuza, a plan to get far away and start a life with your boyfriend.

And now, here you are, being dragged against your will to go see him.  He has to know something, you think, there is no way this would be happening if he doesn’t know anything. You just have to play it cool, think of valid excuses, and maybe you can still get out of this.

You reach the door to his office far too quickly, and you’re motioned in by Chronostasis, who immediately puts his back to the door. To stand guard if you try to run, you assume. You hesitantly twist the knob as you walk in, the door closing with a loud click that causes you to jump.

“Nervous about something?” The voice is filled with dark humor, and you look over and see him at the desk. He looks just as calm as always, with his plague mask firmly in place. But the look in his eyes shows something else. Cold fury.

“N--no, of course not,” you curse yourself as you stumble over the words. “Just wondering why someone like me would be called in your office.”

“Someone like you?” He motions you forward to sit down in the chair in front of his desk. “You’re pure, not like the rest of the people in this foul organization.”

You’ve heard this argument before, and you let out a sigh. “Just because I don’t have a quirk?”

“Not just that.” He leans forward a bit as he stares intently into your eyes. “Your father made sure you were kept away from the dirtiness of the world.”

You break eye contact first, his attention being too stifling for you to continue to hold his gaze. And the mention of your father causes your heart to squeeze with pain. He has only been gone for around 6 months and you miss him terribly.

“Don’t cry for that man, he doesn’t deserve it.”

Your expression turns to shock, but before you can say anything, Overhaul interrupts you.

“He was against my vision of a quirkless society, just like the Boss was. And he tried to keep you away from me.”

Your mind can’t keep up with this conversation, not wanting to believe what he is hinting at. You shake your head in disbelief as you move to stand up.

“Sit. Down,” he growls, “Now.” His words are not a question, not a suggestion, but an absolute demand. You find yourself sitting back down without even meaning to.

“Then I had to find out from Chrono that something that belongs to me was trying to escape.”

At this, you finally break your silence. “Something that belongs to you?  I don’t belong to you!”

He simply chuckles and continues on without even acknowledging the statement. “Even worse, I find out that you had a boyfriend.” He spits the word out with such disgust that you flinch.

“I am allowed to leave, you can’t just keep me prisoner here!”  And then his phrasing hits you like a ton of bricks. “What do you mean had,” you whisper.

“Oh, I had to dirty my hands and get rid of him,” he shrugs his shoulders like what he was saying is perfectly acceptable.

“You - you got rid of him,” the utter disbelief of the statement leaks out in your voice.

“Yes, got rid of him. Just like I had to get rid of your father. I won’t let anyone stand in the way of my goals.” He pauses for a second before adding, “or with us.”

“There is no us!” This time you do stand all the way up, knocking the chair out from under you as you try to make a dash for the door.

But Overhaul is too quick, launching himself over the desk as he grabs you. He pulls you tight against his body, and you are shocked. You have never seen him hold someone like this before, not in all the time that you’ve known him. He strokes down your face with a gloved finger, and you realize there is a tear running down your face as he collects it on the tip of his glove.

“Is it so hard to love me? What’s so wrong with me?”

If you didn’t know any better, the look in his eyes could almost be described as vulnerable. But it’s gone in an instant, his expression hardening. “Or would you rather dirty yourself with that filth that you called a boyfriend?”

“I don’t love you, could never love you!” You shake your head furiously, more tears flowing down your face. “You killed them,” your voice rises in anger.

He sighs and lets you go. You briefly hope that he intends to drop this, to let you go, but you know in your heart that this won’t happen.

Your fear is confirmed when he calls for Chrono, still standing right outside the door. His faithful underling is in the room an instant after being called, and he stands and waits for Overhaul’s instructions.

“What are you going to do,” you whimper.  You want to run, want to hide, but you know there would be no escape with even one of them there, let alone both of them.

“Take her to the room that I have prepared for her.”  

Chronostasis is quick to follow the instruction, reaching out to grab you with a gloved hand. You quickly glance at Overhaul, intending to plead with him to stop this madness. But the look in his eyes causes you to freeze. You see it now, you realize. The possessive darkness lurking behind those cold eyes.

As Chono leads you out the door to take you to your new prison, you hear Overhaul call out one final thing to you.

“If you don’t love me now, then I’ll simply have to make you love me.”

~~~~

@haliora, @thewheezingwyvern, @animewh0re, @monst, @dee-madwriter, @lildreamer93, @heyybrittannia, @yaoyorozuwrites, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @mimikarasu, @hassaikaiqueen

[gh0sture]

Under the Sea

Trafalgar Law x gn!reader

Part 2, Meet the gang

You've never been particularly good at meeting new people or making good first impressions for that matter but this, by far, has to be your worst one yet. Your clothes are soaked still, your hair a sticky mess from the saltwater and your mouth is opening and closing lika a fish gasping for air as it flaps around on a bridge after being caught. It's not one of your best looks you'll admit but it is all you can offer at the moment given the circumstances.

You try to form coherent thoughts, you really do, but this is just way too much for you to take in. He reaches a hand out and you flinch before grabbing it to make an awkward shake.

This isn't just insane. This is completely knock-your-socks-off bonkers.

You feel as if you were looking at the golden gates of heaven themselves, not daring to look him in the eyes out of fear that you might go blind from the sheer radiance of his aura meanwhile the man in question just looked at you blankly. Possibly with a hint of disgust. Definitely a bit of disgust.

"The name's Trafalgar Law, captain of Polar tang" his handshake is firm and he looks at you expectantly while retrieving his hand and crossing his arms over his chest.

Neither of you say anything. He clears his throat but you give no reaction. Still staring at him like a five year old looking at a blackboard of university level algebra equations. He grimaces slightly at your behavior.

"Are you ok? I don't remember finding any trauma to your head, you should be fine" he grabs your chin and tilts your head around to inspect it disapprovingly in search of an injury. Although, he is an expert doctor so he would never miss any injuries, his pride wouldn't let him. This does nothing to soothe your symptoms though and doesn't exactly help with calming your heartbeat at all.

"I wouldn't have missed anything what's wrong with you" he mutters to himself when you finally managed to collect yourself enough to remove his hands.

"uhh no! no, i'm ok! thank you for ,uh, saving me by the way" this is the best and worst thing that have ever happened to you.

"it wasn't my choice" he deadpanned and turn back into the room to get a den-den mushi with a familiar penguin hat on it. Its so strange seeing on in real life. Although, you don't know if this is real life (is it just fantasy?). He proceeds to make a phone call (mushi-call? den-den call?) into it while you shift awkwardly on your feet in the hallway. Your feet ache from walking on the metal grid barefoot you had barely noticed until now. After exchanging a few words he walk over to the desk where he'd previously  been sitting and open a journal, presumably to continue doing whatever he did before.

"One of my crew members will be here shortly to get you settled for now and give you some necessities. We reach a port in nine days where you can leave." his voice was calm and composed, like pouring molten chocolate into your ears even though the words themselves were less than pleasant. When he spoke you could feel your knees get weak and you feel tempted to ask him a question for the sole purpose of hearing him speak more. God this man was hot. You nodded at his statement at first, not really paying attention to what he had actually said until you realized that nothing he said had been actually registered in your head.

"Wait, what?" you asked. He doesn't look up from his writing but you can hear the mild annoyance in his voice when he answers.

"Looking at you, you are rather ill equipped for staying here until we reach a populated island. Since you don't have any money or anything valuable, my crew will provide for you until we reach the port where you can find another ship to go back wherever you came from...Whatever weird country that's supposed to be...Now go down the hallway, He should be there already to help you so leave me alone" you get the feeling that you'll loose a limb if you stick around longer so you turn to head down the hallway and find "Him" who you hoped would be more polite.

"Not that way" you hear from the study and you turn around to head down the other way, somewhat (very) embarrassed.

You really wished that your first time meeting a celebrity would've gone better, but then again they do say that you should never meet your heroes. Was he always this rude in the series and book? Sure he came across as a bit of a tsundere but he seemed at least approachable in the series. You don't have the charisma or extroverted superpowers that Luffy have so that is probably an important thing to consider. As you head down the hallway you come across a man walking in your direction pretty soon. He seem far more ok with your existence and even appear to lit up a bit when he sees you and give you a friendly wave. This is already going a lot better than last time.

"Yo! You're the one we found floating around yesterday! Nice to meet you, people around here call me Penguin" He gives you a wide yet genuine smile as he grab your hand and shake it enthusiastically before you even have the chance to reach out.

"thought you were a goner when we found you haha!So it's good to see that you're up n' about, c'mon let me show you a round!" he turn around to walk from where he had just come from while you follow behind him silently.

Penguin makes it his personal responsibility to keep a conversation going even if it's pretty one-sided but it's nice. Comforting even, as he went on about how nice the other crewmembers are with the exception of the captain but you shouldn't take what he says too personal as he's a bit misunderstood. He  ask you different questions like your name, where you came from, complimenting you on your weird clothes, although it feels like that was mostly him being polite and you didn't have heart or energy to tell him that you're wearing PJ's. He doesn't mind your short answers and seems satisfied with the information he's able to divulge. To be fair you aren't sure how to answer since you don't know how you ended up here but also out of fear of ripping the space-time continuum open by telling him forbidden knowledge about his universe. It would be rather awkward explaining to him that you know a lot about them and what they've done/are about to do. You've technically stalked them through tv and books and if someone told you that they've been watching you, you would freak out. Rightfully so too. They might even think that you're a navy spy sent to gather information action for their arrest and they could kill you. Yeah, this is a mess and a half but you'll burn this bridge when you get to it. You did tell him your name though and he doesn't seem to suspect you working for some nefarious organization so all is well.

He showed you where the important places in the submarine was such as the kitchen, living quarters, rec area and bathrooms. You still have trouble telling up from down will undoubtedly get lost but he assures you that after a while you'll know this maze like the back of your hand. After leaving the living quarters he guides you to the top deck to find someone else he says will help you so that he can get back to work.

The yellow ship had surfaced at a deserted summer island and everyone was outside enjoying the sun after spending several days in the dark of the ocean. You hadn't been down in the submarine for that long , at least not while being conscious, and was already getting a bit unnerved over how cold and cramped it was. As soon as the warm rays of light hit you both the cold and your worries melt away.

"Hey Ikkaku! You have to help the drifter get some clothes!" He yelled at a woman laying in a sun-chair on the deck with her eyes closed. The familiar heart pirates uniform was open to reveal a green tank top and an orange and yellow striped hat was laying beside her.

"Haah!? Why do I have to do it?" She sat up to glare at Penguin and was about to protest when she spotted you behind him. One second you were hiding behind Penguin and the next you're face to face with a very pretty woman with very poofy hair. Her glorious lion name bounces a bit as she hold up both your hands in hers and lean over a bit to stare into your eyes. Everyone is so tall here why is everyone so ridiculously tall. Anime proportions are wild.

"Oh my god!! We were so worried about you, we thought you were dead when we found you!" You felt uncomfortable with her being so close to your face and politely thanked her for saving you while doing your best to avoid eye contact.

"Oi! Where's your manners! They've been through a lot being stranded in the ocean have some respect!" He bops her on the head and she lets you go to tell him off (and/or punch him back) but she remembers the shiny new toy in front of her and settles for staring daggers at him instead.

"Oh shut yer trap" She stares at you intensely as if to make sure you wouldn't run away or vanish into thin air. It's kind of nice being fawned over like this, and clearly the crew enjoy having a visitor.

"It's so nice having a fresh face around, It's been years since Captain let anyone new stay onboard  and being stuck with all the same jerks weeks on end gets a bit tiring you know. Now come on and let's go find you some proper clothes!" She grab your hand to drag you along back into the dark,dark depths of the submarine.

Oh joy. more cold, feet grating and claustrophobia.

"You're a bit smaller than everyone so we should probably ask Uni to sow it in for you if it's way too big" She says more to herself rather than you while handing you the classical white uniform with the heart pirates logo on the chest over your heart.

The woman who's name you had learned to be Ikkaku turn around and continued rummaging around the small closet in front of her in search of more clothes for you while you change into the white uniform when she isn't looking. It feels incredible to finally get out of those damp and sticky clothes and into something soft and warm instead. You are also the proud owner of a pair of fuzzy socks and black boots. Your poor abused feet are overjoyed that they no longer have to walk the metal grid of a thousand needles. Life is good.

"Once we get to the port of Pellar island you can probably trade your way to some more clothes but this should be fine for now"

In the little time you had spent with her you had learned quite the few things about the crew on the ship. For starters there were 21 members in the crew (including the captain), You were lucky number 22 according to Ikkaku, even though you aren't a part of the crew it's apparently better to have an even number of people aboard the ship. And hearing the stories of what they've been through it seems like you're their new rabbits foot. Since you're considered baggage or fancy cargo rather than someone useful she gives you some times on how to stay out the way, especially out if the captains way which you feel is probably a wise decision but you offer your help should she need it in the kitchen which she greatly appreciates. You hate feeling useless.

You can't help but wonder where you are in the Once Piece timeline as you rolled up the long sleeves of the uniform on your arms and legs for comfort. Had Luffy and Law already formed the alliance? Were you before the timeskip and the incident at Marine Ford? Maybe you were even ahead of the manga and anime itself in a future arc even. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Ikkaku pushed a bundle of toiletries into your arms involving a towel, a toothbrush, and a bar of soap.

"We haven't figured out where you'll sleep for the moment but it'll work out soon enough. Otherwise you can just sleep in a spare bed in the infirmary but come help me gather food from the island! We don't want to get scurvy while we're submerged!" She drag you away towards the deck after leaving your things in her room for safe keeping for now.

This woman is going to pull your arm off.

She seemed very sweet but all the touching and stereotypical anime arm-pulling is weird since you have literally just met. The way she smiles while asking you about your favourite foods and how she excitedly plan different recipes out loud make you almost forgive her though. Almost.

You move sluggishly towards Ikkaku's room to get the only material items you currently own in this world. Foraging for fruits and herb until nightfall was tiring but at least you didn't have to carry that much stuff, a guy with a black pompadour haircut had come along to help carry the crates of stuff you and Ikkaku gathered. He seemed very nice too, somewhat cocky though. You had asked Ikkaku for information on a certain Straw-hat pirate while making small talk and have come to the conclusion that he probably hasn't even started his adventure towards becoming the Pirate King yet. She didn't know who you were referring to and was even showed some seagull newspaper from their library but no info of the gummy monkey man could be found whatsoever. Since you recall him making news very early on in his "career" it's fair to assume that he hasn't gotten up to his mischief yet.

It feels a bit weird to be honest. To be in the prologue of the story like this and you have no idea what kind of things anyone other than the Strawhats and Luffy had been up to since the story followed them, maybe some vague details about Law's past and fragments from some characters backstories but this is all uncharted territory. Your thoughts are interrupted as you suddenly bump into someone and fell backwards. You reach your arms out like a bad imitation of a seagull in attempt to grab the wall but someone grabs you before you manage to take hold of anything. Your grab their shoulders to steady yourself and let go once you're back on your feet but they don't remove their hands from you. You look up to thank them for catching you when all the colour drains from your face and you realize who you're standing prom-slow-dance proximity to. It is but the one and only person you'd least want to embarrass yourself in front of. Again.

"Do you have a death wish or are you just plain stupid 22-ya" He looked down at you with what you assume to be the ghost of an amused smile or slight disgust. Probably disgust. Again. while you're distracted by his closeness and the humiliating event that is currently taking place. It could be much worse though, right? you can salvage this situation probably.

"Crap, sorry I was just zoned out.." You tried looking anywhere but his oh-so-handsome face to avoid you making this anymore awkward than it already was. You are not immune against handsome people after all. You tried moving away from him slightly but his hands stayed firm on your shoulders and could feel his gaze on you like needle pricks on your skin. you definitely do not dare looking him in the eye.

"You have to look where you're going or you might get seriously hurt next time" He mused. He may be attractive but he's definitely a jerk.

"It's impossible to see down here it's so dark..." you mutter under your breath and quickly move to side to walk past him, he let's go this time rejoice that your attempt to escape the harassing captain is successful, desperate to get away from this weird atmosphere you have created. Unfortunately for you, the universe have other plans  as he start walking behind you in the same direction you are and boy, is it awkward.

After a bit of walking you start to get a bit suspicious though. Was he following you around, waiting for you to get lost so that he could make a smartass comment about it? He is the kind of person who would find great amusement in petty bullshit like that for sure but then again you do have a tendency of assuming the worst in every situation. You decide to test this theory out by steeping to the side and make as much room as you could in the hallway and drop down to pretend fixing your shoelace. Instead of trying to walk past you he stops completely right behind you. You move as slow as you can without arising suspicion but he so kindly wait patiently behind you. When you're done "tying your shoelace" and stand up to continue your journey he follows close behind.

Oh hell no.

You can handle rudeness but this is some psychological warfare or foul play that you want no part of. No matter how handsome the guy is you will not stand for this kind of fuckery. You make a sudden halt and quickly turn around to kindly tell him to fuck off.

"Do you need something from me?" you ask with as much calm you can currently muster, irritation building up behind your customer service smile but he doesn't say anything and only look at you with the same dumb face as before. Almost like he's sizing you up before a fight. Possibly with even more disgust this time.

This Motherfucker.

When he still doesn't say anything for several seconds you just decide to be the bigger person and turn around to start walking again. Of course, with him still following you. It's better to just ignore him and he'll go away, you know where you're going. You finally reached Ikkaku's room and gather up the few items that belong to you when he finally speak up.

"You don't have a room assigned yet right?" You gave him a somewhat puzzled look. That's what he needed to know? That is why he followed you?? To ask you this???

"No? why?" You admit cautiously, almost preparing for him to start fighting you or using his power to "confiscate" one of your organs. For a brief second you could've sworn you saw a mischievous glint in his eyes you know that something bad is brewing. The cogs of evil are turning in his mind and you know that whatever comes out of his mouth next will undoubtedly mean bad news for you.

"I have an idea"

[jessiebanethedragon]

hello if you're not too busy or something may i request a crosshair fic where he teases the reader a lot bcs she's shorter than him (probably like, reaches his chest and that's it) and like it's cute and wholesome? srry if it's weird hehe im a sucker for height differences bcs i too, am vv short. i love your fics btw 👉👈

heya! thanks for the Request and the love xoxoxo, this started in my head as cute fluff and turned a lil more saucy than i thought it would be so... yeah... oops (Hope you like!)

Oh how you hated him, the resident sniper of Clone Force 99. You absolutely hated him, every single cell in your body despised the man. And every time you saw him that stupidly handsome face was there to mock you. He made you seethe with anger, that smirk with the toothpick and the eyes that would side stare at you like he was checking you out when in reality he was just trying to rile you up all over again. 

You’d kick his ass if it wasn't so damn attractive. 

“You look like you’re going to implode Picks.” Hunter mentioned offhand one morning in a briefing room.  Even the name sent you into a rage. Picks. Short for Toothpick, which according to Crosshair, you were the size of. 

“I hate him.” You grit out, causing Hunter to laugh from his spot in the corner, even the mere thought of you working with them again was driving you crazy. Well, okay, you didn't hate him per-say, in fact you’re actually afraid of the opposite but it’s easier to pretend that you dislike the  sniper than it is to pine over him constantly. 

“He’s not that bad…” Hunter started and then stopped when you sent him a glare. 

“Who’s not that bad?”  Tech asked entering the briefing room to look over the Holoprojection once more before you departed. With Wrecker in tow the two began discussing various assault attempts for the mission. 

“Crosshair.” Hunter supplied for his goggled brother, who immediately looked over to you, who was currently perched on a ledge, trying to ignore how your heart clenched at every mention of his name. 

“Ah yes, well…” Tech trailed off, “Don’t worry Picks i’m sure he’s uh…. Mellowed.” he offered, trying to ease your worries. 

“I hate him.” You stated again, maybe if you said it out loud enough it would be true. 

“Well that’s just rude Short Stuff.” The voice drawled from the doorway, where of course, the man in question was leaning. Not even wearing his full armor like the rest of the batch. You swore he left the top half off and pushed his sleeves up just to annoy you. 

“Listen here wise-ass. This is my mission, you follow my command.” You said hoping down from the ledge and stalking over to him, falling short (no pun intended) when your face met his chest. 

Oh the universe was cruel. 

“Yeah and what are you going to do if i don’t?” He teased, still very much relaxed. 

“I’ll kick your ass.” You snapped at him, causing Crosshair to smirk and roll the toothpick in his mouth to the opposite side. 

“Sure you can reach that high?” He asked, and if you weren't fuming before you were now. Why did he have to be so stunning and suave and flirty and oh right you’re supposed to be pissed at him... 

“Why you little…” you started.

“That's you pretty girl.” He interrupted, maker you could not win with this man.  

“I could have you court martialed.” You countered. Feeling a little disappointed that you’d reached the point of pulling rank in order to win an argument with him but he really was that difficult. 

“Of course you could. But where’s the fun in that?” He tossed back to you, before lazily saluting Hunter and striding out of the door. You threw your hands in the air as he sauntered away, had he really just shown up to drive you crazy and then leave. Probably. But he was certainly not getting the last say this time. 

“Hey!” you called after him, jogging down the empty hallway to catch up. 

“Yes general?” He raised an eyebrow for a split second before a look of fear overtook his face as you sprinted at him. Throwing yourself at the unsuspecting sniper and tackling him to the floor. Crosshair wasn't exactly as much muscle as his brothers, but he was still much bigger than you. And that didn't make an impromptu wrestling session in a GAR hallway easy. So of course in moments he had you pinned against the wall (no complaint from you other than the embarrassment of being beaten.) Legs flailing every which way in an attempt to kick/knee him in a not-so-low blow to his crotch. 

“Hey.” he said, trying to maneuver away from you legs but still keep your upper half pinned. You let out a frustrated scream. 

“Hey.” He pressed again, softer this time. 

“What?” You huffed relenting, and slipping into the grip he had on your hands and one on your hip to support you. Oh, well now things were a tad awkward. 

“I think there was some miscommunication.” Crosshair states, watching you get more and more confused. 

“How so?” You take his bait, you have no idea where he’s going with this. He lets out a sigh looking around and stepping closer to you, is it weird to notice how good he smells? You ask yourself, right around the same time your eyes meet his and you turn to putty in his hands. 

“I was tryin’ to…”  he starts before letting off another sigh. Gently leaning closer, testing the boundaries, waiting for you to tell him to back off. Instead you take a breath. 

“Trying to what?” you whisper, before it all clicks, the teasing, the names weren't even names at all. Terms of endearment, your brain finally makes the connection. 

“Listen, the long necks didn't exactly teach flirting.” He admits quietly. Loosening his hands and letting your feet reconnect with the floor. 

“I can tell.” You tease, and you see Crosshairs mouth open and close, like it’s searching for words that he doesn't know. 

“I’m sorry.” He settles on, “if I upset you.” You straighten in shock, did he just apologise? Did the sniper of the Bad Batch, known for his assholery just give you an apology? Now that was a win. He pauses for a second before turning away from you. And as if you're possessed by a much more confident version of yourself, your hand grasps his and stops him from leaving. 

“You are so stupid.” You shake your head at him, leaning up onto your toes to fist his blacks and pull him close to you. 

It’s not exactly a romantic kiss, more like a kiss that's been pushed away for so long it’s surfacing with a vengeance. It’s full of yearning and want, and so when Crosshair leans down whispers for you to jump, and all but slams you into the wall again, you happily comply. Legs around his waist and tongues in each other's mouths. 

And then he groans. The bastard has the audacity to groan into your mouth, the sound has you reeling and whining into his. And maker what are you even doing? This is so against every rule in the GAR regulation handbook.    

“Regulations.” You pant as somewhere he moves from your lips to your jaw to your neck.

“I don’t give a damn.” He almost growls into your neck. Especially when your hands anchor themselves in his hair. 

“But…” Your brain tries to think of any reason to not do what you’re doing right now, but it draws a blank. So you let all your responsibilities go to hell as you pull his face back to yours and envelop his lips again.  

“That's so gross.” Tech comments at the view in front of him, having leant out of the doorway to make sure you hadn't killed his vod. And instead getting greeted by what could only be described as the most intense makeout session he’d ever seen. 

“What's gross?” Hunter asked, moving to join him, and before Tech had a chance to want him. “Oh for kriffs sake!” He shouted, throwing his hands in the air at his sniper's actions. 

“I liked it better when they hated each other…” Tech stated a look of disgust on his face. “Hunter?” He asked turning to where his sergeant had been, only to see him sitting back in the briefing room holding his head in his hands and Wrecker having the time of his life laughing it up in the doorway.

“It’s about damn time!” He called loud enough for the two of you to jump apart in surprise. Flushing red as you caught Techs terrified face and Wreckers loud laugh.

“Come on Toothpick, you got a mission to run.” Crosshair said, looking down at you and stealing one last soft kiss before turning back to his brothers. 

Okay so maybe you didn't hate him all that much. 

[lightupmyass]

Pairing: Demon! Taehyung x Devil's Spawn! Reader (feat. Seokjin)

A/N: Hello everyone! So this is the first thing over written in a really long time. I had other blogs that I posted on that I have since become inactive on. This blog is a place for me to basically post whatever I want with no theme. Do keep in mind, I haven't actually completely written anything in months so this might be shit, but I hope you like it!

Warnings: pwp, possession, dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, cameo of Seokjin's huge shlong

It's been so long since the first time you heard him, you can't even remember how it happened. Ever since you were a little girl, there's been a little voice inside your head, one different from yours. He always called himself Taehyung, claiming to be sent by your "true father" to keep an eye on you. You never understood what he meant until you were older.

"Sorry about the mix up, ma'am. I promise it won't happen again." You apologize to the woman at your counter, handing her the correct bag of food after an issue with the drive thru orders. "Happen again? Of course it won't happen again! I'm not coming back until you get your employees in line!" The middle age woman shouts, grabbing the bag out of your hand before turning on her heels, leaving you with the biggest fake smile you've ever put on as you silently curse her out. "You know, I still don't see why you let people walk all over you like that, Princess. You're the daughter of the devil, you could literally just banish her to hell and have your father take care of her. You're too nice." Taehyung chuckles. "You obviously don't understand how humans work, Tae. I can't just banish them to hell so Daddy can clean up my mess every time some rude ass bitch tries me." You think back to the demon. This is how your conversations always went. Obviously talking out loud to the voice in your head would look strange to say the least, so you were able to communicate with him through your thoughts. However, that also meant that none of your thoughts were kept to yourself, meaning every little daydream or rude comment you made in your mind were also shared with him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. I just think you should maybe, I dunno, act less like a human? They're disgusting creatures." He scoffs, making you roll your eyes. "They are not. Some of them are really nice for, certain things." You huff. Luckily your shift is almost over, so you take your apron off, cleaning up to go home. "Sure, because that guy from the other night was so good at those 'certain things'." The reminder of the disappointing hook up from earlier in the week gets to you, your rage slowly intensifying. "That was just one time. Normally things go really well. That night was just, weird. Like, I'm kinky, but that guy was less kinky, more creepy." You cringe at the memory. "You gotta stop getting hung up on them. Find yourself a nice demon to marry. There's one right here that's already stuck with you for life, so why not make it official?" You can't tell if he's serious or not, so you just ignore him.

"Trying to make up for the other night? What, did I get to you earlier?" Taehyung laughs as you take a swig of your drink, scoping out the dance floor. "You know, I could do better than any of the guys out there. I have eons of experience. Just say the words and I can be the best you've ever had or will ever have again." You scoff at his confidence. "Alright, don't break your arm jerking yourself off. I'm sure I can find someone that can please me even better than you ever could." You giggle, catching the eyes of a tall, gorgeous man from across the room. The man smirks, heading towards you as you down the rest of your drink, fixing the hem of your dress so it sits a little higher on your thighs.

"Hey. Sorry, I just had to come over and say that dress looks really good on you." The man smiles brightly at you, towering over you even while you sit on the tall barstool. You smile at the compliment, running a hand over the soft silk button up he has tucked into his slacks. "You don't look so bad yourself. I'm Y/N, and you are?" "Seokjin. Care to dance?" The man asks, holding his hand out to you. "I think I have a better idea." You smirk.

"Oh fuck!" You gasp, Seokjin's huge cock stretching out your walls as he thrusts inside of you, sweat dripping off his forehead to land onto your breasts. His face buries in your neck as you wrap your arms around him. "Please. I can still make you feel so much better. This dude is too vanilla." Taehyung's voice rings through your mind. It was times like this that you wish he could just leave you alone so you could enjoy the pleasure in peace. "So bi-ig. Feels so fucking good." You moan, nails scraping against Seokjin's broad back. "Yeah, big is good and all, but if you don't know how to use it, it's not worth it." You try your best to ignore him, but the more he talks, the harder it becomes. "I mean, a dick like that, if he flipped you over and rammed into you from behind you'd be gushing in seconds. What a waste, doesn't even know how to fuck right." The more he talks, the more you imagine the things he says, and you like it. "He didn't even go down on you either. Is this his first time? This is way too slow for a one night stand. What you need is a good, rough fuck that leave your legs shaking and your head spinning. A fuck where the only thing you can remember is his name." He's just ranting at this point, but you can't help how it makes you feel, the pleasure intensifying as your mind wanders. A loud moan apparently catches his attention, a devious chuckle ringing through your head.

"Like the sound of that, huh Princess? Being fucked from behind, your face shoved into the pillow, or maybe being held against a man's chest while his hand wraps around your throat? So dirty, Princess." He tsks. You bite your lip, trying to hold back your moans, not wanting to show him how much he's affecting you. "Don't you wanna be fucked like that, Princess? Get fucked stupid? I keep telling you, I can make you feel good. Just say the magic words and I can give you everything you deserve. Say the words, Princess. Call my name." Taehyung's voice deepens, and you can feel yourself teetering off the edge, both from his words and Seokjin's cock still fucking into you. "Oh, fuck, please Tae!" You cry out, realizing a little too late what you said out loud. Seokjin stops, pulling away from you. "Tae? Whose Tae?" Shit.

"Oh, it's uh, it's nothing. I just, um-" "Look, I'm sorry, but if you're caught on some other dude, I'm not into it. Feelings with other people get way too confusing. I'm sorry, I can't keep going." Seokjin sighs, sitting up and covering himself with a sheet. You nod, knowing you can't stay. "Hey, if things don't work out with this Tae guy, give me a call, yeah?" He smiles as you get dressed.

"Dammit, Tae. You completely ruined the night. I hope you're happy." You think to yourself, hoping he can tell how pissed off you are at yet another unsatisfying lay. Tossing your keys on your counter top, you sigh, closing your eyes. "Nothing smart to say now, asshole? Just like you to run away and not take responsibility for your actions." You huff, irritated that he's ignoring you now. You plow down on your couch, deciding whether or not you should take a shower before bed, until there's a knock on your door. Groaning, you get up to look through the peephole, seeing a man that you've never seen before. Too angry to think clearly, you open the door, ready to tell at the man to go away. Before you can say anything, however, you're backed into your house, pinned up against the wall and soft lips moving hungrily against yours.

You gasp, pushing the man away in shock. "Hey, what the hell?!" You shout, the man stumbling back a little, a smirk on his face. "Oh, come on now, Princess, don't act like you didn't like it." A familiar voice comes from the strange man, your eyebrows knitting in confusion. "T-Tae? Is that you?" You ask, stunned. The man poses, a big boxy smile taking over his lips. "In the flesh. Well, someone to flesh. Dunno exactly who he is, but it works. Hot, right?" He asks. He's not wrong, the man is incredibly attractive, wavy blonde hair falling into his flawless face, rings decorating his long fingers, earring chain dangling from his earlobe, and a nice suit hiding a seemingly fit body. "Mhm." You hum, trying to keep yourself from drooling. You can barely remember why you were mad until you're backed into the wall again, wrists pinned above your head.

"Why are you home so early? I was hoping to surprise you. What, did he not finish you off?" Taehyung asks, his head cocking to the side as his eyes roam over your body. "Well, apparently saying another man's name is kind of a cock block for some guys." You huff, turning your head to the side. "You actually said my name out loud? Oh, Princess. So needy for me while you were already stuffed full of cock. What a dirty whore." He hums, lips ghosting over the soft skin on your neck. "Well it's not my fault you're so good at dirty talk." You mumble. "I'm good at other things too, Princess. Want me to show you?" You moan as his lips attach to your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin as his leg slips between yours, giving you something to grind on.

He drops your wrists in favor of tugging your dress down, letting it pool at your feet, his eyes enjoying the lack of bra. "Mm, let's go. Bedroom. Now." He orders, giving a smack on the side of your thigh. You jump into action, rushing to your bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed, spreading your legs as he stalks in after you. "Good girl. You're very good at this." He smiles as he leans down, catching your lips in a chaste kiss before kneeling in front of you, large hands running up and down your thighs. "Tae, please. Just fuck me." You whine, grabbing him by the back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. The denial of release from Seokjin had you even more desperate for Taehyung to make you feel good. He smirks, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his mouth to place a kiss on it. "Y/N, I don't get to use this body for long, so I'm gonna make the most of it. Don't worry, you'll get fucked, but right now, just let me do what I want." He wraps his arms around your legs, your back falling onto the mattress as he pulls your pussy to his face, your legs over his shoulders.

"Been wanting to taste you for so long." He hums against you, the vibrations sending waves through you, making you shudder. "Please, Tae. Make me feel good. Want you so bad. Need you." You beg, hoping he'll stop teasing you. Your wish is granted as he licks a strip up your folds, tongue flicking against your clit before he moans into you. "Shit, Tae." You moan, fingers immediately finding purchase in his hair as your hips move against his mouth, doing everything possible to get the most pleasure. "So wet already. Is it from him, or me?" Taehyung asks, pulling away and using his finger to trace over your slit, coating the digit in your slick. "Y-You. All for you." You moan as he slips his finger inside of you, pumping it slowly. You definitely don't need any prepping, but his long fingers reach exactly where you need them to, driving you crazy as he picks up the pace. "Good girl. I swear to you, no one will ever make you feel as good as I will."

He slips three fingers inside of you, pounding relentlessly as his tongue flicks against your clit, fingers curling perfectly inside of you to have you teetering over the edge in a matter of minutes. You're hit with an intense wave of pleasure, crying out as your legs shake, wetness coating your thighs and his face as he continues through your high, pulling away when you start whimpering. "Damn, you've never done that before." He smirks, rubbing your thighs gently as you calm down, licking what he can of your essence off his face. All you can do is lazily chuckle as you wipe the sweat off your forehead. You start to relax, closing your eyes, calming down a bit until you hear a deep chuckle. Looking up you see Taehyung shirtless, wiping his face with the white button up. "Now Princess, why are you acting like we're finished here?" He chuckles. The cocky smirk on his face, the list and hunger in his eyes, you can't help but feel afraid and excited all over again.

You lick your lips as you examine the body he's borrowed. It's incredible really. Not too buff, but the perfect kind of fit. Somewhat toned but not intimidatingly so. He looked perfect, and the large tent you find growing in his slacks only add to it. You kneel on the bed, beckoning him to come closer. When he does your fingers trace over his waistband, unbuckling his belt as he watches, entertained by how eager you are. Before you can unbutton his pants he grabs your hands, stopping you. "Unh unh. You don't get to see it. If you see, you might like it just because it's the owner of this body. When I fuck you, you're going to focus on the fact that it's me. I make you feel good, understand? Doesn't matter what body I use." You nod in understanding, remembering that this body isn't his to own, and that the next time you summon him, he might need to use another body.

"My sweet Princess. Turn around, ass up, face down. Let me make you feel good." He whispers, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. The way he talks, you sense that maybe this isn't just the simple fuck session you thought it was. You can feel something in your heart, the tone of his words warming your heart while making you drip again. You do as he says, your he'd resting on your pillows as you put yourself on display for him, impatiently waiting as you hear his pants hit the floor, the bed dipping behind you. "Mm, so beautiful." He whispers as his large hands rest of your ass cheeks. Before you know it, the head of his cock is teasing your entrance before pushing into you, earning a loud moan from you as he fills you up. It wasn't bigger than Seokjin's but it was damn close, the position making it even better. He was right, Seokjin had no idea what he was doing, but you know deep down that Taehyung is about to do exactly what he said he would.

"Fuck, still so tight. Always imagined how your cunt would feel. So fucking perfect." He groans, gripping your hips as he buries all the way into you. "Tae, fuck me please. Need you to fuck me nice and hard." You beg, moving your hips, bouncing yourself on his cock. He hums, pumping himself into you. "You want me to fuck you, huh? Nice and hard? Can you handle that?" He asks, pulling out and pounding into you so hard your entire body lurches forward. "Fuck! Yes! Please!" You cry out, gripping onto the pillow by your head. "Fucking slut." He mutters before pounding into you again, tugging your hips to meet his thrusts as you just lay there and take it, being too overwhelmed to actually do anything else. "Is this what you wanted, Princess? Or do you want more?" He asks. You don't know what he means until he grabs your shoulder, pulling you up until you're flush against his chest, his hips still moving as his hand wraps around your throat, his fingers tightening their grip. You gasp, not actually expecting this from him.

"Fuck, you must really like this, huh? Can feel you, clenching around me. I fucking love it." He moans, his teeth digging into your shoulder, causing you to shudder. He drops you, your body falling back onto the bed as he pulls out of you, turning you onto your back before slipping back into you. His hands grip the headboard as he fucks into you again, the force behind his thrusts making the entire bed shake. You try to curse, cry out his name, say anything, but all you're capable of are moans and gasps as he pounds your sweet spot. "Fuck, Princess, you gonna cum for me? Gonna cream all over my cock? Come on, Y/N, want you to cum for me." He groans. It's only a few more thrusts before you lose control, walls squeezing tight around him, triggering his own orgasm and milking him for all he's worth and you ride out your high, gasping for air.

His body collapses on top of yours, the mixture of cum dripping out of your still full hole as his sweat drips onto you. "Fuck. That was amazing." He gasps, finally pulling out of you and laying next to you, your pussy clenching around nothing now as cum drips out of you, making a mess on your sheets. You can only hum in agreement as you turn, resting your leg on top of his as his arm slides under your neck. "You alright, Princess? I didn't break you, did I?" He asks, concerned. You shake your head, still not able to form words, earning a hearty laugh from him. "Did you get fucked silly, Princess? Well, next time, be careful what you wish for. Rest up a little. I'm not done with you yet." He smirks. What the hell did you get yourself into?

[ghostbustermelanieking]

praescitum chapter eleven, part two

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven, chapter eight, chapter nine, chapter ten, chapter eleven pt 1

casefile, season 10, season 11, 11x03 plus one. part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files.

Summary: As Mulder and Scully adjust to their reassignment to the X-Files and working together in the wake of their separation, they find themselves investigating a small town and a ghost that apparently warns people of bad things to come.

note: a good portion of the scenes and dialogue from this chapter are taken directly from the episode "plus one." 

---

chapter eleven, pt. 2

Scully's second impression of Judy Poundstone is very different than the first; she finds her antagonistic this time, startlingly so. She remains coy about her potential involvement in Arkie's death, as well as her brother's involvement, but her response to the whole thing makes Scully think that she must be involved, somehow. She supposes that the autopsy will shed some light on that subject.

Before Scully leaves, Judy begins to sling insults in the same matter she slings her pudding. She clearly has an infatuation with Mulder, and suggests that he would forget all about Scully, that she doesn't know what Mulder sees in her. She calls her dried up, not even half a woman. Past the age where she can have children. It's silly and petty, it shouldn't bother her, but it does, when she thinks about what happened last week. Mulder deserves someone who is willing to come home to him, someone who will actually be there and tell him what they want, instead of being wishy-washy and detached. Maybe he really does deserve someone who would be able to give him more kids. She's never considered that possibility, with everything that's happened, but maybe that is something he wants.

She tries to ignore it. Swallows it back and goes to the local morgue to perform the autopsy. An examination of Arkie Seavers seems to contradict her theory from the night before, that Arkie had killed himself. If her conversation with Judy had her suspecting that, somehow, the Poundstones were involved in Arkie's death, this autopsy has her nearly certain. The angle of the strangulation wound suggests that Arkie couldn't have done it himself, as well as a lack of strain on the arm muscles. She finds tissue under his fingernails, like he'd tried to fight off his attacker, but when she runs the DNA test, she finds that it's a match for Arkie himself. So there's no telling if that's from the attack, some strange confirmation that Mulder's insistence of doppelgangers, or from an earlier incident. But she leaves the morgue fairly sure that Arkie Seavers didn't kill himself.

She goes back to the hotel from the morgue, surprised to find how quickly the day has passed. She hasn't heard from Mulder outside of a couple texts clarifying that he's talking to the families of the other recent victims, and so she picks up some dinner and heads back to the hotel.

Scully tries to relax, tries to focus on the case and banish thoughts of ghosts or of Mulder growing tired of her, but something in her can't shake the gloom of the last week. Somehow, it only seems to be getting worse; she can't loosen up, she can't let go of these things. She stands in front of the mirror as she unbuttons her blouse, her ring-less cross (she'd left it on the bedside table for some unknown reason) nestled against her collarbone, and all she can hear is Judy's voice as she looks at her reflection. She's a little disgusted with herself, for lingering on these meaningless words, for letting them bother her so much, but a part of her can't help it. Can't let it go.

She's still standing in front of the mirror when she hears a knock at the door. “Just a minute,” she calls out, rebuttoning a couple buttons, and crosses the room to open the door.

It's Mulder, in his side of the suite, leaning against the door with a degree of casualness. She hadn't even known he was back. “Hey,” he says. “What'd you find out, Scully?”

“That Dookie winging past your head sends a sharp message to your brain,” she says, reaching up to remove her earrings as she crosses the room.

“What message is that?” he asks, the tiniest bit of laughter in his voice.

She chuckles, too, holding both earrings in her hand. “To gather the other apes and make war on your dread enemy.” She sets them down next to her cell phone, next to the tiny good circle of her ring. She wonders if Mulder has noticed that she has it.

“I believe I'm in touch with that feeling, Scully,” he says.

“Really? Did you have Dookie flung at you, too?”

“Uh, figuratively,” he says, fully entering the room to stand by the table near the door. “By the queerest little man in the queerest little house.”

“I don't know, Mulder,” she says, sitting on the bed. “This Judy, she has some malign influence over these victims, and I'm at a loss to figure out what it is.”

“Yeah, I agree. There is some evil in the air, Scully,” says Mulder.

For a second, she almost knows what he's talking about, but she dismisses it immediately. “No, it's not evil—it's mental illness,” she says, almost more to reassure herself than him. “There's some kind of psychic transference.”

“I wouldn't rule out ghosts,” Mulder says.

“Well,” she says with a scoff, thinking of Willoughby, and all of that Specter nonsense that cannot possibly be real, “except for the fact that they don't exist?”

“Of course there are ghosts,” he says, as if to remind her that they’ve just recently been investigating just such a ghost.

She'd rather forget. “I mean, science has proven that the stimulation of the brain's left anterior insula is linked to the feeling of a sensed presence, and that repeated stimulation to an area of the left temporoparietal junction is what promotes the sense of a shadowy figure, collectively known as the Gastaut-Geschwind syndrome,” she says, still reassuring herself. Still justifying everything. What she kept hearing last night was Mulder, of course, and the other night at home can be explained by this, as well as the malfunctioning house. The shadow in the mirror. All of it has a rational explanation.

“Talk about flinging dookie,” he says, joking. And she should laugh, but the thought of Judy and that pudding takes her right back to that room. She sighs wearily; it's been a long week.

She’s saying it almost before she can think about it: “Mulder, do you think of me as old?”

“What?” he says, laughing gently. “Where is that coming from?”

“Well…” she starts, unsure of how to explain, as he comes to sit on the bed beside her.

“I mean, maybe in dog years. No,” he says comfortingly. “What are you… what are you talking about?”

“Well, a woman thinks about these things,” she says, very nearly sheepish. Certainly embarrassed.

“No, Scully, you're… You still got it going on, you…” He chuckles, a little awkwardly, so ridiculously sweet that it does make her feel better. Just a little better. “You still got some scoot in your boot,” he finishes.

She smiles warmly, genuinely. “I'm gonna boot you out of here,” she says, pushing gently at his shoulder, and he goes,  agreeable as she's ever seen him.

“Knock three times!” he calls over his shoulder as she closes the door behind him. She leans against it, the smile slipping away from her face. She misses him. She's been his partner again for two years now, she stays with him almost every week, and she still misses him. She doesn't know why she booted him out. For a second, she thinks about opening the door, asking him to come back.

She used to kick him out of her room in 2000, when their relationship was so new, and she would always open the door eventually, and he would always be waiting on the other side, leaning against the door jamb and smirking at her. She hears his footsteps across the floorboards on the other side, crossing the room.

Just because he's willing to reassure her doesn't mean that he wants to be in here with her. She's still scared, after everything. She sighs to herself wistfully, pushes off of the door and walks back to her bed.

She curls up on her side of the bed and falls asleep quickly, surprisingly quickly and surprisingly calmly. She sleeps well, and that is a shock, too, after the week she's had. When she wakes up, she is cold, lying on her stomach on his side of the bed.

---

The next morning, she and Mulder disperse to interview the Poundstone siblings again. Judy is calm again, feigning the same innocence as before, and claiming no memory of their last interaction. She refuses to stop playing Hangman with her brother, and Scully isn't sure how much sway those games actually have over those deaths, but she knows that they can't have no sway at all. Judy does offer her a solution—protection, she claims, in the form of bread pills she takes every morning. No medicinal power, but the nurses claim to take them to protect themselves. Scully can't bring herself to throw them away. She tucks them into her jacket pocket.

Arkie's lawyer shows up at their hotel, ranting about how he's being stalked by his double. Scully tells him that he is making it worse. “Your paranoia is only gonna feed on itself,” she says. “Y-You know that mass hysteria is just a symptom of fears run wild.” It's the kind of thing she's been telling herself ever since the sleepless nights, the paranoia and the hearing things began. Some small comfort.

Mulder advises him to take precautions to avoid the danger. They tell him to go home and lock his doors, and Mulder hands over his card. Scully tells him that it can't haunt him if he doesn't let it—more of the things she's been telling herself, but she means it sincerely.

As the lawyer leaves, Mulder says, “Like I said before, clearly there's a dark influence set loose in this town, Scully.”

He could be talking about Willoughby as easy as he's talking about this town, but this is the case they are on, and the case of the Willoughby Specter should hold no sway over that. “Well, by ‘dark influence,’ again, I presume you mean evil, Mulder,” says Scully. “But there is no such thing as evil. I mean, evil is a concept, like the Devil.”

“Oh, the Devil is a concept?” Mulder asks over his shoulder as he retrieves his keys from his car. “Certainly, that's not what they taught young Dana Katherine Scully in Sunday school, is it?”

“Well, I certainly believed in the literal Devil when I was a child,” she says as he closes his car door and turns back to her.

“So you don't believe that we, as humans, have dark sides that we sublimate or repress?”

“Well, while anyone with an imagination can entertain acting out violence or antisocial behavior, that doesn't mean that there's an evil twin lurking inside of us.”

“Speak for yourself, Scully,” he says. “And tell that to Chuck and Judy.”

“Chuck and Judy are mentally ill, Mulder,” she replies matter-of-factly.

“Explain how they're doing it,” he challenges her.

“I can't explain it,” she says, and he nods, a little smugly. “But,” she adds, “if you eliminate the impossible, whatever is remaining, even if improbable, must be the truth.”

“No sugar, Sherlock,” he retorts, his car alarm chirping.

“But I have to admit,” she says sheepishly, “I, uh, still sleep with my back to the door just in case the Devil comes in the night.” It's the closest she's willing to come to admitting what she's been going through. She locks her own car and heads towards the hotel.

“Can never be too careful,” Mulder says behind her, so quietly she almost misses it.

---

They order in a pizza and eat it in Mulder's side of the suite, where he's folded up the couch. They discuss the case, eating off of paper plates the way they used to when they were young and newly partners, and the way they've done dozens of times on cases in the past two years. It's companionable, sitting knee to knee in the couch, discussing dark forces and the possibility of patterns and the intentions of the Poundstone siblings. It feels familiar, easy, almost like nothing had ever happened last week. But they still depart to their separate rooms at the end of the night.

Scully is hoping for a peaceful night, like the night before, but of course she wouldn't be so lucky. She sleeps in snatches again, her spine crawling, jolting at the slightest sound. At one point, she's nearly asleep when she swears she hears someone behind her, and she rolls over in a panic only to find Mulder. She gasps a little with fading fear, rolls over and says, “Please, Mulder, you've got to quit scaring me like that.”

“Oh, I'd like to quit,” he says.

The reasoning doesn't need an explanation. Arkie Seavers's lawyer is dead.

They go to his home and find his head detached from his body, blood splattering the walls. Scully notes that while it's unlikely that a man could cut his own head off, it's not impossible. Mulder notes that the man was scared out of his mind. He clearly believes that this was not the work of suicide, and a small part of Scully is inclined to agree. Still, there is nothing more they can do tonight, and so they agree to head back to the hotel.

On their way out, as Scully is weaving through the crowd, she sees something strange, something impossible. Her own face in the nearby crowd, watching her. Glaring at her. She squints at the crowd in confusion, trying to get a better look, but someone briefly blocks her line of sight, and by the time they are gone, so is the face.

“You coming, Scully?” Mulder calls on the other side of the car, and she climbs it, silently repeating her former words to herself. It's paranoia, it's her imagination, it's some strange suggestion of her brain, but it isn't real. Maybe this is a manifestation of the things she was seeing at her house, or maybe this is something completely different, but it's not real.

When she and Mulder get back to the hotel, she crawls into her bed without bothering to turn the lights on, Mulder padding into the other room tiredly as they exchange their second good nights. She'd like to go back to sleep, to hopefully get some uninterrupted rest, but she's spooked. The image of her own face glaring at her hovers behind her eyelids, small noises are making her jump. She lays on her side away from the door, closes her eyes and tries to fall back asleep, but the dread won't leave her. She feels as if someone is standing over her shoulder, the way Mulder has been the last two times someone died. The feeling grows stronger, shiver up her spine, and she turns over in a panic, hoping she sees Mulder's face instead of her own. But there is nothing there.

She gasps in relief or in panic, rolling on to her back. She can't decide if she'd rather something be there, or nothing. Noises with nothing attached to them makes her panic instinctively, but she certainly doesn't want someone threatening to be there. She wishes Mulder was the one there this time, and he didn't have a crime scene for them to rush off to.

This is ridiculous. She's been jumpy for over a week now with no end, and she's tired of feeling this way. She thinks of that night when she thought she heard an intruder, when she reached for her phone to text Mulder, because she was afraid. This doesn't feel very different. She's on edge and admittedly a little frightened, and she doesn't want to be alone. So she won't be.

It's largely an impulse, but she's going to do it. She gets out of bed, walking across the room and opening the connecting door. Doesn't bother to announce herself because he hasn't before; call it revenge. He's lying on his side, on his side of the bed, back to the door; she stands behind him until he turns over, startled. “Oh,” he says good-naturedly. “Speak of the Devil.”

“I can't sleep, Mulder,” she says honestly.

“Oh. What's the problem?” He shifts in bed, turning to face her.

She sighs, reluctant, trying to decide how much she wants to explain. She settles for, “Something about this case is getting under my skin.”

“Well, we've had stranger cases, Scully,” he says, on his side facing her, his arm folded under his head.

“Can you hold me?” she asks, also completely on impulse. Without thinking. But she doesn't think it requires a lot of thought; it's what she wants. It's what she's wanted since that night she pulled away, that she didn't know how to ask for. She's spooked, and she's lonely, and this feels right, feels almost brave.  

She sees the briefest moment of hesitation, enough to strike wavering fear and embarrassment, before he says, “Yeah, I can do that,” and she wonders why she ever doubted him.

She climbs onto the rickety couch bed beside him, her back to his chest. He wraps his arms around her, easily because he's been doing it for over a decade, and it feels like home. She can't believe she's gone so long without this.

“What's gonna happen?” she says in a small, vulnerable voice, because suddenly all she can see is the bags she packed to move out, her rejections of Mulder in the past, telling herself it was just for a few months and that quickly turning into four years. She needs to know what their future is, what Mulder wants their future to be. If he even wants a future with her.

“What's gonna happen when?” Mulder asks sleepily from behind her.

“When we're old,” she says.

He scoffs out a laugh against her hair. “What do you mean ‘when?’”

She laughs a little, too, but the thought won't leave her. The uncertainties that have been plaguing her. “I mean… sooner or later, we're gonna retire, and…” she tries to explain.

“Hmm.” Mulder nudges her shoulder with her chin.

“... Are we gonna spend time together?” she finishes lamely.

“I'll come push your wheelchair with my wheelchair,” he murmurs, his nose brushing the corner of her eye.

She chuckles softly, says, “That's not what I mean.”

“Oh, I'll always be around, Scully,” he says, and a sudden warmth fills her from head to toe. “Offering bulletproof theories of genius that you fail to assail with your inadequate rationality.”

She scoffs out another laugh, pretending that she isn't incredibly relieved that she didn't screw this up. “And I'll always be around to prove you wrong,” she says, because she wants him to know. He hmms in response, and she adds, “Promise.”

He nestles closer, holding onto her tighter, and she'd love to just stay in this moment forever, here with the man she loves. But there is still that unsure part of herself, and she can't let it go. She needs to absolve herself of any uncertainties. “No, but that's not what I mean,” she continues.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

There is a long pause, a silence she spends considering if she even wants to ask him this, if she really wants to know the answer. She sighs a little, says gingerly, “What if you meet someone?” He shifts against her startledly, like she's caught him off guard, and she has no idea how to take it. She continues, “What if you meet someone… younger, who… wants to have kids?”

“Oh,” he says, “that's what you mean.” He still sounds so caught off guard, so shocked. He says, “Well… you could do the same. You could meet someone, and… have kids.”

She laughs a little at the thought, astonished. Uncertain as to whether or not he actually thinks that's a possibility, whether or not he knows what he means to her. “Mulder, that's not gonna happen,” she says.

“That's nonsense.” He nudges her a little.

“No, it's not,” she says firmly. “I'm… I'm at the end of that journey.”

“Do you want to have more kids?”

The question genuinely shocks her; she never expected to be having this conversation with Mulder. Not after William, not so late in life. “Well…” she says, hesitating, “... I would have liked to have had another one.” Because it's true; a long time ago, she always thought she'd have more than one. She always wanted a big family. And years later, it had gotten to the point where having another child seemed impossible, even immoral because of what happened with William, and she hadn't thought about it since. But in a different life…

“Mm,” Mulder hums quietly. “At the risk of sounding insensitive, what's stopping you?”

“Besides the fact that the first time was a miracle? And besides the fact that I don't have anyone to have one with even if I could?”

There's a long, pregnant (Excuse the pun, Scully thinks to herself almost bitterly) pause before Mulder finally speaks. “You're a woman of science,” he says.

She laughs softly at that. “Mulder,” she says, “sometimes I think the world is going to hell and that we're the only two people who can save it.” That's how it's always felt, almost since the beginning. The two of them against the world, always.

“The world is going to hell, Scully. The president working to bring down the FBI along with it.”

“What if we lose our jobs?” she says softly, wondering. Two years ago, she thought that this stint at the FBI would be brief, and now she can't imagine doing anything else. Working with anyone else.  

“Yeah.” He bumps his cheek against her shoulder, resting it there. “Then what would we do?”

There is another long pause, but this one feels full of possibility. She is here, and she is being held by her husband, and she Bt him with everything in her. She turns gently in his arms, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as Mulder's palm slides over her stomach. “We'll think of something,” she says.

She smiles more broadly at him, and he is smiling, too. His palm is so soft over her stomach, so warm, and she moves closer to him almost unconsciously. Reaches up with quivering fingertips and touches the side of his face. He’s watching her carefully, like he might scare her away. She kisses him first, cupping his face in her hands, soft and sweet and a little sloppy. He makes a small sound of pleased surprise, his hands sliding down to her hips, sliding under her shirt. He tugs her closer and she wraps herself around him, her arms folding tight around his neck.  “Are you sure…” she mumbles, purely out of caution.

He kisses her again in lieu of an answer. His hands fumbling, unbuttoning the buttons of her pajama shirt.

---

Afterwards, she falls asleep curled up against his shoulder, wrapped up in a sheet, springs bearing into her back. His arm against her back, his hands rubbing over the chilly tops of her feet. She goes to sleep warm, feeling calmer than she has in months. She can't believe she went so long without this.

She wakes up to something not unsimilar to chaos. Mulder in a panic, insisting he saw his doppelganger. She admits she saw her double, too, which only seems to spur him on. She tries to reassure him, to get him to calm down, but he seems bound and determined. He wants her to go and visit Judy, and she hardly sees a better solution to the issue, and so she goes.

She’s driving to the hospital when she sees it again: the unnerving sight of her own face from the rearview mirror. But this time, she is less unnerved. This time, she finds the whole thing a lot more annoying.

“My rational mind knows that you are only a… a manifest psychic ideation borne of latent hostility,” she tells the image firmly—maybe out of courage, but more likely out of pure irritation. She's tired of this, dark, menacing shapes over her shoulder. “Maybe Mulder was right, you're evil incarnate. It's all you are.”

She looks at the mirror again, and then swivels a bit to check for sure. The doppelganger is gone.

She breathes a small sigh of relief, of satisfaction. It's strange, but it feels like a triumph over whatever images and sounds have been tormenting her over the last week. Like a small victory. She feels better, like she's had some sort of adrenaline shot, stemming both from her discussion with Mulder and from this.

She drives the rest of the way to the hospital and finds Judy Poundstone dead on the floor of her hospital room. Unexplainably dead, considering they just saw her not five minutes ago, but Scully has an idea what has happened. She finds a game of Hangman on the floor; the answer is Chucky.

Across town, Mulder finds a similar scene after a scuffle with his doppelganger. Dead Chucky Poundstone. A game of Hangman reading Judith, and two more, older ones reading Mom and Dad.

---

Scully is packing up evidence in her half of the hotel room when Mulder enters, says, “So I was thinking maybe we could get a couple hours in before check out time?” She gives him a questioning look, and he continues innocently, “I'm just talking about getting some shut eye,” like she hadn't woken up in his bed this morning.

“I'm glad to hear that, Mulder,” she says carefully. A replica of their conversation the first night. They haven't talked about what happens now, she doesn't know what he wants from this.

“Yeah,” he says. “Uh… I guess I should hit the hay.”

She can't gauge his meaning, can't tell if they've fallen back into their old habits of saying things without really saying them. At times, she had thought they'd gotten past that; but then again, look at their last week. They've been veering away from the difficult subjects for years. It's why their relationship fell apart the first time, it's what keeps making it fall apart. “Okay,” she says.

“Yeah,” he says. “But you need anything, you just, uh, call me.”

She's tempted to just ask what it is he wants. But instead, she says, “I can't imagine that I will.” She feels somewhat safer, somewhat less paranoid, somewhat more capable. But she is still scared, too scared to ask him to stay. She is briefly, mildly disgusted with herself.

He nods a little at her, crosses the room and closes the door behind him. She keeps her eyes on the door, like it's going to open. Maybe. Maybe it will, maybe it won't. Maybe she should push through this part of her that's holding back, that's still hesitating. She couldn't imagine that she'd need anything, but then again. “But then again,” she mutters to herself, courage building inside of her, “it's not out of the realm of extreme possibility.”

She crosses to the door, opens it, and there he is. Leaning against the door like it's 2000 again. She smiles at him, can't help it. “Hi,” she says, maybe a little tentative. Maybe a little welcoming.

Mulder leans in this time, kisses her warmly. “Hi,” he mumbles against her mouth, and she laughs a little, somewhat in relief. She takes his hand and tugs him into the room, shutting the door behind him.

---

“I didn't mean it,” she says.

They're curled up in bed (a real bed, thank you very much), wrapped up in the comforter and silky sheet, Scully lying half on top of Mulder, and Mulder’s head half-pressed into her neck. He stirs slowly, his hair rubbing against her chin like a needy cat. “Didn't mean what?” he says with something of a nervous chuckle. Like he's scared she's going to take back everything she's said these past couple days.

She brushes her lips over his tousled hair, something warm building in her chest. “What I said the night we got back from New York,” she murmurs. “Or… the way I reacted.”

Mulder lifts his head, rumpled and sleepy, his eyes soft and gentle. “Oh, Scully,” he whispers, lifting a hand to stroke her hair back. “I'm the one who should be sorry. I said I wouldn't push you about moving back in, and then I…”

“No, Mulder. You shouldn't have to be sorry.” She tips her head forward until her forehead is against his. He slides his heavy palms up her hips, and she shivers, burrowing closer. “I… I've been indecisive,” she mutters. “I feel like I've lead you on.”

He shakes his head. “Never,” he says, and his nose bumps against hers as he leans in to kiss her on the mouth. “You've never led me on. Scully, I'd wait as long as necessary for you.”

Nearly embarrassed, nearly overwhelmed, she ducks her head until her face is against his shoulder. “You would?” she mumbles shyly, so quiet she almost hopes he doesn't hear.

“I waited seven years, didn't I?” he teases, nudging her side. Scully chuffs out a relieved laugh against his shoulder, and he kisses the top of her head. “I can wait a little longer,” he murmurs. “I would wait forever.”

She presses her forehead against his shoulder hard before drawing back to meet his eyes. “I don't want you to have to wait,” she says, surprisingly vulnerable, even to herself. Some uncertain emotion passes over his eyes, but he says nothing. He watches her, carefully, his face composed, trying not to show his cards. She reaches up with one hand to touch the side of his face. “I don't know if I'm… ready to come home yet,” she says softly. “But… I want to try again. With us.”

He says nothing. He says nothing, but she can feel the nervous thud of his heart against their ribs. She doesn't move her hand.

A smile breaks out over his face, slowly. He reaches up to cover her hand with his, and she intertwines their fingers.

---

They leave for home later that day. It seems so much more ridiculous now, that they drove here separately, considering everything—Scully thinks that right now, she'd love nothing more than a morning spent in the car with Mulder. But they did drive separately, and it seems like they'll have to drive back separately as well.

They're carrying their suitcases out to their various cars when Mulder catches Scully's hand in his, squeezes her fingers. “Let me buy you breakfast,” he says.

Her brow furrows, and she gives him a funny look. “Mulder, there is a free continental breakfast at the hotel,” she points out. “And it's closer to lunch time than breakfast.”

“Oh, those hotel breakfasts lose all the glamour and charm after the second or third morning.” He grins, nudging her hip with their tangled up hands. “Let me buy you breakfast, Scully.”

He's such a sap. She rolls her eyes and lets him buy her breakfast.

They meet at a restaurant outside of town, not wanting to tempt fate and stay there any longer. It's the type of greasy spoon they used to eat at a thousand times back in the day. Scully loves it. They sit in a booth catty-cornered to the wall that must be too small; their knees keep knocking together under the table.

They spend too long in the diner, drinking their coffee and arguing about nothing. At one point, Mulder jokingly suggests a game of Hangman, and she shoots him a look both of skepticism, and a reminder that he didn't seem too keen on the idea of Hangman the night before. She sketches out Tic-tac-toe on a napkin instead.

Just as she's winning her third round of the game, Mulder's phone beeps loudly on the table, vibrating hard enough to rattle his silverware. Scully gets a brief glimpse of the display as he scoops it up to check it. “Ryan Caruthers is still emailing you?”

“Snoop,” he says lightly, clicking on the email. “Yeah, the kid is nothing if not persistent. I figured I'd check the case report again while we're between cases.”

She bumps her knee against his. “I'll remind you that we have a report due to Skinner promptly,” she says, and he hums in response. She leans forward and catches a few lines of the email: Please keep looking into the case… I think they made a mistake… “Does he think that his uncle is innocent?” she asks.

“I'm not sure,” he says, setting his phone down. “I considered it, but the report seems to implicate Jared Caruthers pretty heavily… I looked at the autopsy report, but I'm horrible at that stuff.”

“Hmm.” Their knees knock together again. She takes a long sip of her coffee. “I could take a look at them for you, if you want.”

He grins, a little sheepishly. “Would you mind? I know it's not technically a case we're technically working on.”

In the back of her mind, part of her doesn't particularly want to deal with the case. But the rest of her is mentally chiding herself, telling herself that whatever happened to her in Willoughby was a long time ago, and it is time to let it go. It can't hurt her if she doesn't let it.

“Of course I'll take a look, Mulder,” she says. “Although we might want to save it for after hours, or when things are slow in the office. After Skinner got so upset the last time, we should probably hold off until there's an actual crime to investigate.”

“Hmm.” He grins again, wider this time. “You're probably right. We'll have to work late one of these nights.”

“Too bad,” she says lightly, like she hasn't worked late with Mulder a million times before.

“Oh, don't worry, Scully,” says Mulder. Their knees brush together again. “I'll take you to dinner first.”

---

Contacting the FBI was probably a dumb fucking idea, but Ryan didn't know what else to do. Doesn't know what else to do. These past couple years have felt like a downhill slide, ever since he started visiting Uncle Jared. Ever since other people started seeing the ghost again.

The thing is that it's been exhausting. The whole goddamn thing. He's spent weeks now digging into the murder of his parents, his one life-long nightmare. He's talked to people, tried to access crime scene reports, written Jared emails with questions that Jared tries to dodge answering. It gets exhausting, having to relive that over and over again.

But he can't stop. He knows he can't stop. It's getting worse.

It happens again one night. He's asleep, tangled up in his greasy sheets that he probably needs to wash, when he hears a loud banging sound. A slamming sound.

Ryan jolts awake, his teeth chattering. He's trying to get his bearings when he hears another bang, louder this time.

He groggily shoves the sheets aside and stumbles to his feet, purely on instinct. He's not even thinking about the ghost; he's thinking about his aunt, wondering if she's gotten back yet, wondering if she's okay. “Aunt Annie?” he calls blearily, pushing the door open.

There's no answer. The hallway is empty.

Ryan grits his teeth, shakes his head. It's becoming more obvious what's happening here. He slams his door hard, making sure to push at it so it clicks all the way shut. So it won't be easy openable. (He'd lock it, but the last time he did that, Annie panicked when she couldn't get the door open.) He pushes at the door with his shoulder a little for emphasis, and then turns back to his bed, intending to text Aunt Annie and see if she'll be home soon.

As soon as his back turns, he hears it: the sharp rattle of the doorknob.

He turns hard on his heel, hands held out in front of him like a pathetic imitation of a Jedi, like he's trying to protect himself. But the door doesn't open. It only rattles, as if someone was trying desperately to get it open.

Ryan stumbles back a few steps until his thighs hit the mattress of his bed, his hands lowering to his side. “Nice try!” he calls out, and ignores the way his voice quivers.

The doorknob doesn't stop rattling. The motion almost seems to increase, the cross hanging on the back of the door joining in, almost vibrating in place. Ryan bites down on his lip so hard it bleeds.

The rattling spreads from the door to the walls: the crosses he'd hung up there rattling too, the rosary beads he'd bought on eBay and dangled from the doorknob of his closet door clacking together like chattering teeth. The printouts he has of crosses from the Internet, that he taped up, go fluttering madly to the ground. His dresser starts shaking in place, the drawers banging back and forth; behind him, the bed starts to move, rattling up and down as if there was an earthquake. Ryan can nearly feel the vibrations beneath his feet.

He stumbles madly away from the bed, to the center of the room, and shouts indignantly for the mess to stop. But the chaos continues, all the furniture in his room being shaken by an invisible hand. A picture he taped the wall detaches and flies across the room, hitting him in the face; he hears another one ripping in half. His school books clatter off of his desk. The cup of water on his nightstand overturns on top of his digital clock. The pillows from his bed go flying, too, hit him in the face with more force than he ever would've expected from a pillow and knock him right on his ass.

“Fuck!” he yells, more surprised than anything, but it seems to be something of a trigger. The room freezes in place, like it's a movie someone paused. The pillows land on top of him, considerably lighter. The doorknob gives one last rattle, but it won't open. He didn't lock it, but he still knows (or maybe at this point he's just hoping) that it won't open.

Breathing hard, Ryan shifts on the ground, catching the photo from the wall under his leg. He picks it up carefully and sees that it's his parents’ wedding photo. It's unharmed, which he's grateful for, but it's hard to look at; their cheery smiles seem almost sinister in this context. Ryan stands and sets it on his bedspread.

The other photo, the one that ripped, is sitting on the bedspread, too. Ryan catches a glimpse of a black gown as he goes to pick it up and knows instantly what it is: the photo of his dad and Annie and Jared at Annie's high school graduation. Annie doesn't like that he has that up, but he's never taken it down, and she hasn't said anything since he first put it up. Ryan winces when he sees the rip, winces harder when he sees where the rip is.

The larger half still shows his dad and Annie, their arms around each other, grinning into the camera. But the fingers held up in bunny ears behind Annie's square graduation cap are missing the rest of the person they belong to. When Ryan finds the other half, his fears are confirmed: his Uncle Jared has been ripped out of the picture.

A sudden scratching sound comes to life out in the hallway, one that Ryan has learned to recognize well in his sixteen years. The lighting of a match. The flickery flames are visible under the doorway, accompanied by the creaking footsteps of the ghost walking away.

It's getting stronger. This is the one phrase in Ryan's head: It's getting stronger.

He strides easily across the room, hands shaking in fear, and locks his door.

[taenamseok]

Masterlist

Summary: After receiving a mysterious invitation, your life is changed forever. Is it better or worse? It all depends on how you handle the situation.

Previous/Next

Chapter Two

You groan softly, stretching your aching limbs. There's not much room to move on the couch, so you almost fall off, but you're stopped by something. "Y-Y/N?" Your mysterious counterpart stutters. You sit up, but feel dizzy. "What have I done?" The male says shakily. The light blinds you as your eyelids part. After your eyes adjust, you see Lestat, sitting on the floor, knees tucked to his chest. Your eyebrows raise as you see his mask off, revealing his face. He's incredibly handsome, and you'd love to focus on his features, but you realize you're freezing, and your neck hurts.

"Sh, please, lay back down, Y/N. You need to rest." He cooes. You nod slowly, not arguing as you lay back down. "What happened?" You ask, your voice raspy. You hear a sniffle and shuffle, a large hand pushing the hair out of your face. "I'm so sorry. Oh God, what have I done?" He cries. Just then, there's a knock on the door. "Oh no." He whispers. He gets up, and you hear the click of the doorknob. "Dude, are you ready? Hoseok really made a mess this time. It's all hands on deck." Another voice says. "Um, now's not exactly the best time, Taehyung." Lestat stutters. "Why? What-" "No!" Lestat shouts. "No way." You open your eyes to see a young man hovering over you. "Dude, Namjoon is going to kill you." The man says.

You hear the door close, and Lestat sigh. "I know. I just, I don't know why. I couldn't go through with it. She's special, Tae." Lestat explains as you sit up. "What's so special about her?" The young man, Taehyung, asks. He gets really close to you, examining your features closely, making you uncomfortable. "Wait, is she the one I smelled at the party?" "Yeah, she is." Lestat replies. "Shit, man. You're definitely screwed." Taehyung chuckles. "I'm sorry, what are you guys talking about? Who are you?" You ask.

"I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced myself yet. I'm Taehyung. Nice to meet you." The man knelt down in front of you smiles, holding a hand out to you. You shake his hand, whispering a hello. "My name is Y/N." You reply. "What the hell is the hold up?" A shout comes from the hallway. You all turn to face the door as a man stands in the doorway. He's nicely dressed, just like the two men in the room, his head held high. He radiated power, and the men cower at the sight of him. His gaze lands on you, and his jaw tightens. "What is the meaning of this, Seokjin?" His voice deep and chilling.

"Namjoon, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I couldn't let her die." Lestat stutters. 'Seokjin' is what the man, Namjoon, called him. So is that his real name? "What the hell do you mean you couldn't kill her? That's what we do!" The man's voice booms, causing you to jump. You feel a hand on your thigh, and see Seokjin's shaky hand resting there, squeezing softly, but you push it away slightly. "I'm sorry, but could someone please explain what's going on?" You spit. The dominant man looks towards you, smirking slightly. "You." He says. "You're the one I smelled earlier. The virgin. Oh, Seokjin, what mess have you put yourself into?" He chuckles before moving quickly. Before you know it, Seokjin is pinned to the wall, fingers tightly wrapped around his throat.

"Namjoon! Hey!" Taehyung cries, racing to the men and trying his best to pry Namjoon away from Seokjin. His cries apparently attract attention, and you hear many footsteps echoing through the hallway. Multiple men appear in the doorway, and three of them run in to help Taehyung in his efforts while the other just stands there, eyes as wide as a dear in the headlights. Shouting and tussling continues until they finally free Seokjin, who gasps for air. "Namjoon, what the hell?" One of the new men ask. In the group that rushed in, you recognize one red haired man, Deacon he said his name was, standing with them. "Look for yourself." Namjoon says, pointing at you. All eyes are on you now as you shift in your seat uncomfortably. "No way, Seokjin did that?" The shortest one asked. Namjoon nodded, and you wonder what they mean by 'did that'. Surely you guys didn't hook up, unless he did that while you were passed out. But, he didn't seem like the guy to do that.

You look at him as he slouches against the wall, catching his breath. He looks at you somberly before mouthing a phrase. "I'm sorry." What is he sorry for? "Do you think we have room for her?" Another man asks. "She could bunk with me." Deacon smirks. "No." Namjoon booms. "We aren't taking her." "But, we can't just leave here on her own, she doesn't know how to live like us! How will she survive?" The smaller one cries. "I don't care how she survives! Seokjin ruined her life as she knows it so there's no going back, but we cannot take her with us." Namjoon shouts. Seokjin ruined your life? How?

"Alright, I've had it!" You scream, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room. "Somebody tell me what's going on before I lose my fucking mind!" Everyone stares at you in shock, Namjoon only smirking St your outburst. "Fine. I'll cut to the chase. We're all vampires that hold parties all over the world in order to feed. This was one of the parties and you happened to be invited. We have a few rules, however. We only go for people that are alone, so that no one suspects they're missing. You were one of those people, and it seems Seokjin had his eye on you. You're different though. Out of everyone there, we could all smell you. Your blood is pure, you are pure. The first virgin we've come across in a while. Another rule is that whenever we come across a virgin, whoever found them brings them to me. The leader always gets the virgins. But Seokjin broke this rule. He broke another rule too. No turning anyone." Namjoon explains. Turning? Does he mean-

"What do you mean 'turning'?" You ask. Namjoon sighs, shaking his head. "Seokjin had turned you into one of us. A vampire." He says. Your eyes widen, not knowing whether to believe this or not. You turn to Seokjin, and his head is buried in his knees, his shoulder shaking. A vampire. A room full of blood-thirsty vampires, and you were now one of them. "I'm a vampire?" You ask silently. "Namjoon please, let's just take her with us. Without our help she's gonna turn into a Wither." Taehyung says. Namjoon looks back at you, thinking. "Give me time to think about it. For now, let's clean up Hoseok's mess." He says before turning on his heel. Everyone follows suit except you and Seokjin, who is still shaking on the floor.

"Seokjin..." You call out to him softly. He looks up at you, tears staining his cheeks. "Oh my God." You gasp, seeing the fingerprints around his neck. You run over to him, kneeling on the floor before him. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I took your life away. This is all my fault." He sobs. You think about his words. Can you really not go back to your normal life?

Your whole world has changed, just because of your decision to come here. You could've stayed home, spent the night with your wine and your books. The one time you decided to let go and be a little reckless, it cost you your life as you knew it. "Seokjin, can I ask you a question?" You ask softly. He nods, and you sigh deeply. "Why? Why did you turn me?" His lip quivers at he question, and he takes a deep breath before gathering the strength to answer. "Y/N, I, I know we only met tonight, and have barely talked, but, you just, feel, different, than anyone I've ever met. There's something special about you. A connection between us. I've lived many, many years, and never have I ever met someone like you. I know, I'm not making sense right now, it's just a feeling. Dancing with you tonight, I knew my mission for the night, but then when I was, you know, I couldn't fully go through with it. I couldn't lose you. It was selfish and I'm so sorry that I did this to you."

You know he's being sincere, your connection to him you felt before even stronger than when you were dancing. Your thumb strokes over his bicep, a soft smile on your lips. "It's okay. I mean, I didn't really have much going for me anyways. No friends or family around, dead end job, maybe you helped me." You tell him. He sniffles, looking down at the ground. "I still shouldn't have been so selfish. You had no control, no choice." He whispers. Maybe you won't be able to convince him. He may learn by actions, not words. The only way he'll understand is if you show him that it's okay.

As the door opens up, you realize you don't have time to do that right now. "Well, I've decided. She'll come with us. However, she stays with me." A deep voice says from behind you, Namjoon smirking at the two of you. Your eyes flicker between the two men, Seokjin's mouth hung open in shock. "B-But why does she have to stay with you? I'll be okay, I'll make sure she doesn't get in trouble." He stutters, standing up. "I met her tonight, I did this to her, she's my responsibility."

"No." Namjoon's voice so deep it reverberates through your whole being. "You fucked up, Seokjin. You don't get to hold responsibility over her. You were selfish, reckless, and this is the punishment. From now on, she stays by my side. She does not leave my side. You do not talk to her." Namjoon stalks over you to you, tilting his head to the side as he curls a finger under your chin. "From now on, she's my pet." He smirks.

You smack his hand away violently, glaring at him as he rubs his arm. "Like hell I'm gonna listen to you. I don't even know you, and now you think I'm just gonna do whatever you say now? Who do you think you are?" You shout. A hand grips your jaw tightly, the mysterious leader looking down on you intimidatingly. "A feisty one. I like it. Not my type, but I just have to break you in, that's all. Hoseok, shut her up." He calls behind him, his eyes locked on yours. He has no actual control over you, no connection like Seokjin has, but his mere presence, his power, had you almost kneeling. Almost.

You open your mouth to defy, but something pops into your mouth, a small ball, and a collar attached to it is wrapped around your head. Your eyes widen as you're unable to close your mouth, or even speak. A ball gag. Did they really just have this laying around or with them at all times? You try to speak, the only noises emanating from you being strained groans and gurgles. "Perfect. That oughta shut you up for now." Namjoon smirks, patting your cheek. "Maybe I'll keep this on you when I take your virginity."

"No! You can't-" Seokjin runs at him, but is cut off by a large backhand against his cheek, the hand that was just on your own cheek, as if he was just a small fly and Namjoon was the swatter. "As I said, Seokjin, you hold no power. Come. Hoseok and Yoongi, you're in the car with me. Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. I trust you to take care of the bodies. Take Seokjin with you." Namjoon commands. You look to Seokjin, whose still knealt on the floor. The sadness on his face, the defeat, you wish desperately to hold him, to tell him everything is going to be alright. Everyone nods, and Namjoon grabs your hand, pulling you out of the room. You try your best to call back to Seokjin, but all that comes out is gargled whines.

You pass by a few people, and try to call out to them, but just a glare from Namjoon has them silent, ignoring your muffled cries. The grip he has on your wrist is tight, and you have no doubt you'll have a bruise. He pulls you all the way out to a pair of awaiting, black cars, and he rounds the car to open the door for you, putting you in the passenger seat. The back doors open, Hoseok and Yoongi climbing in as Namjoon climbs into the driver's seat.

The car ride is tense in the front seat, the men in the back seat chatting away about their night. From what you've heard, he brought the gag you were wearing. He was planning on using it but apparently "her mouth was so fucking good" that he let her scream while he fucked her before he killed her. A tear rolls down your cheek as you think back to earlier in the night. That could've been you. You were talking to him before Seokjin swooped in. Seokjin. Your supposed knight in shining armor. Is he okay? You can't help but worry about him. Was Namjoon always so harsh with everyone? If so, you're scared of what he has in store for you.

Namjoon takes a turn down a dirt road, the path shrouded by trees, blocking the moonlight. Through the dense foliage, in the distance you see a large metal gate. Namjoon presses a button ad you approach the gate, and it slides open, allowing the car to pass through. A long driveway leads to a large house that make you feel insignificant in size. It's a lot nicer than the venue of the party, the dark elegance of it giving off a sort of foreboding feeling, as if when you step through the front door, you'll be doomed for eternity.

A garage door opens, and Namjoon pulls the car into it, and it's fairly large. He parks and turns off the car, the men climbing out of the back. "Come on. Follow me." Namjoon says to you, opening the door for you. You glare at him before reluctantly climbing out, following behind him as he leads you into the house. It's gorgeous to say the least. For a group of vampires, the flooring and walls are fairly bright. Eggshell walls garnished with intricate paintings, white marble floors, it was bright, but cold.

"Follow me please." Namjoon says, ascending the grand staircase. You decide to follow him, figuring it'd be best not to find out what would happen to you if you disobey. You're in their territory now, their domain. They have the upper hand. They could catch you and kill you before you can even think of a way out. You bunch up your dress, careful not to trip up the stairs. Maybe if you're obedient he'll take this stupid gag out of your mouth. You can barely swallow with it on, you're constantly wiping drool from your chin.

You're lead up to the third floor, the top floor, up to a dark oak door. Namjoon stops, hand on the doorknob. He turns it, revealing a large, dark room. The walls are painted a deep maroon, a king sized bed with plush pillows and a midnight duvet draped over it, neatly made. You're surprised, the room seems dark, but kind of cozy. That changes when you see a large, mahogany cabinet in the corner of the room, an intricate dragon carved into the top. You raise an eyebrow at it, and he chuckles deeply, noticing your reaction.

He stands behind you, moving your hair to the side and unbuckling the gag. You sigh in relief as you close your mouth, your jaw aching after being kept open for so long. He tosses the gag on the dresser, and you reach up to sooth your jaw. You stand there awkwardly, looking around, wondering what you should be doing. What was Seokjin doing? Somehow, you knew he was far away, but it felt like he was getting closer. Is he ok? Will he be here soon? Caught up in your own thoughts, you barely realize he's undressing until you hear the clink of his belt.

You shift uncomfortably as he sits on the bed, smirking over at you, his shirt unbuttoned. He does the come hither motion with his fingers, and you raise your eyebrow at him, shaking your head. "Y/N, is it? Do you realize the situation you're in?" He asks, a seemingly playful glint in his eye. You gulp, avoiding his gaze. Where is Seokjin? You desperately wish he was here right now. The feeling you have, he seems closer now, getting closer by the second. It's probably just your desire to be around him that's causing the feeling, wanting him to swoop in and save you again.

Namjoon gets up, stalking towards you, and you slowly back up. "Right now, you are in my room, in my house, surrounded by dangerous men that are under my control. You may not be under my control, but I have no doubt that in time, you will submit to me." He says, backing you against a wall. He has physical power over you, but you are in no way connected to him, and refuse to give into whatever he's trying to do. You try to turn away, but he grabs you by the waist, picking you up and carrying you over to the bed. You cry out, writhing in his grasp as he flips you onto your back, pinning you to the matress as he looks over you. "You're mine now. You will stay by my side, and you will not disobey me. Do you understand?" He asks, leaning his head down, his lips hovering over your neck. Was he going to try and bite you? Is he about to kill you?

His hands slide down your body, pushing the hem of your dress to bunch at your hips. He wraps your legs around his waist, and you've never been more uncomfortable in your life. You try to squirm your way out, writhing and hitting and shouting, but he just pins your arms above your head. "The less you move, baby, the less this will hurt." He smirked. 'Please. I don't want this. Seokjin, please help.' You think to yourself, closing your eyes and preparing for the worst.

Before anything more can happen, there's a soft knock on the door, Namjoon groaning at the interruption. "What is it?" He calls out, clearly annoyed. "Namjoon, please, can we talk?" A soft voice asks through the door, and the mere sound of it has you sighing in relief, much to Namjoon's disapproval. "You," He says to you, teeth grit "don't get to say anything to him." He warns. You hate him. You want to talk to Seokjin so bad. You wanted to know what's actually going on, you wanted him to help you. "Come in!" Namjoon shouts, climbing off of you to sit next to you, your body still sprawled out and disheveled.

The door creaks open, and Seokjin steps in, dirt staining his elegant clothing. As soon as he walks in he sees you laying on the bed, your dress up and your legs open, a tear rolling down the side of your face as you look at him, and at that sight, something takes over him. "You son of a bitch." He growls before charging at Namjoon. You move before they topple over you, standing and watching the brawl as they both fall from the bed to the floor. Everything moves so fast you can barely tell what's going on until they stop rolling, Seokjin on top of Namjoon, repeatedly connecting his fist with his face. You do nothing but look in horror.

Someone must've heard the quarrel because a young man with dark hair comes rushing in, pulling Seokjin off the leader. More men flood in, and it takes three to hold Seokjin back. A vein on his neck protrudes, his face red from rage. Namjoon groans as he gets up, rubbing his damaged face. "Why the hell would you do that?" Seokjin cries. "You have no right to take her virginity! It's not your decision to make who she gives it to!" He shouts. That's what he's mad about? He thinks Namjoon took your virginity?

Namjoon chuckles, standing up and leaning against the bed, rubbing his bruised cheek. "Look at her." He says simply. "Smell her. I didn't take anything." He shrugs nonchalantly. Everyone looks at you, and you're still embarrassed at your disheveled appearance, even though your dress had fallen back down, you still felt dirty from him trying to take advantage of you. "He's right." You croak, and all eyes turn to you. "He tried, but he didn't actually do anything." "See? I told you. I didn't do anything." Namjoon shrugs proudly.

"Just because you didn't go all the way with her doesn't mean what you did was right." Seokjin says, pulling out of the men's grasp. He's fuming now at how easily Namjoon brushed off the situation. "Stand down, Seokjin. I told you before. You have no power in this situation." Namjoon smirks. He stands up, straightening his clothes out. He stands in front of Seokjin, trying to tower over him intimidatingly, but it doesn't work. Seokjin straightens out, and he's about the same height as Namjoon, not backing down. "Namjoon, I think we both know that that's isn't true." He smirks. He seems different somehow, more courageous then at the venue.

"Y/N, come here." Seokjin says, holding his hand out to you. You avoid looking at Namjoon as you take Seokjin's hand, standing close to him. A loud chuckle startles you, and Namjoon stands there, a smile on his face. "So that's what's going on, huh?" He chuckles again. A round of mumbles sounds throughout the room, and you notice all the other men are just as confused as you are. "Well fine then. Why don't we make a deal?" Namjoon asks. "Since you're no longer loyal to me by connection, if you stay loyal to me out of your own free will, you can have your little toy."

You look up at Seokjin, whose glaring at Namjoon. "I stay loyal to you professionally. What I do in my free time is out of your control." Seokjin adds. Namjoon smiles, holding his hand out. "It's a deal then." Namjoon smirks, shaking Seokjin's hand. "She's too squirmy anyway. I couldn't do anything unless I tied her up. Which, I wouldn't have minded." Namjoon winks at you. "Come on, Y/N, let's get you to where you'll be staying." Seokjin says softly, wrapping his arms around your waist. Everyone watches in shock as he simply walks out of the room with you, Namjoon grimacing at Seokjin's newfound bravado.

Seokjin brings you to a room, and it's a lot cozier than Namjoon's room. The walls are painted a soft blue, a queen sized bed tucked into the corner of the room, a TV sitting on top of the dresser and a desk with a computer against the wall. It feels warm and inviting, and you sigh in relief as you finally don't feel a darkness looming over you. You look over at Seokjin, whose ruffling his hair, leaning against the desk. "Y/N, what did he do to do to you?" The worry and hurt on his face saddens you.

"Um, he really didn't do much. They gagged me and brought me here, then he took the gag off and put me on the bed and slid my dress up and laid on top of me and pinned my arms and then you came." You explain, shifting awkwardly on your heels. It doesn't seem like a lot when you say it out loud, but to you, it felt like everything. Before you know it, a strong pair of arms wrap around you, and Seokjin holds you in his embrace. "I'm so sorry." He mumbles.

"He's not gonna do that to you anymore I promise." He says, leading you to sit down on the bed. You feel safe with him. You feel like you can finally breathe again. "Seokjin." You whisper, looking at the ground. "Yes, my dear?" He asks. He's still so charming, even in this situation. "What exactly is going on? What did Namjoon mean by 'loyal by connection'?" He sighs, scooting back to sit against the wall, and you turn to face him.

"Well, let me think on how to explain it." He says, looking off in the distance. You nod, waiting for him to say something else. "So, you feel the thing, right? The connection between us? I know in the car, I could feel exactly where you were, how far away you were. Did you feel that?" You nod, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "Well, we call that a tether. It connects a master and their follower. A follower is someone who was turned, and whoever turned them is their master." He explains.

"So, you're my master?" You ask. The title seemed strange to you, but it made sense. "That's right." He said. "I was Namjoon's follower. He turned Hoseok, Yoongi, and I. All the guys in the house are his followers." "Wait," you interrupt "what about the other three guys?" "Oh, well, they were following another vampire, an enemy of Namjoon. Namjoon killed him, and once a vampire kills another, the killer becomes the new master. So, the younger ones became tethered to Namjoon." You nod in response.

"There are ways to break a tether. One of the main ways is if a follower turns someone, and becomes a master. Once a follower becomes a master, they are no longer tethered to their master, and are no longer loyal. That's why 'no turning' was are main rule, and I broke it tonight with you." He explains. "So, you're not tethered to Namjoon anymore, so you're not under his control anymore?" "That's right." He nods. "And we have the tether, the connection, so I'm loyal to you." You think out loud. "What exactly does that mean? Do I have to follow your orders or do everything with your permission or something like that?"

"Oh, no no no." He shakes his head. "I won't be controlling. You can do pretty much whatever you want, I won't make you do anything you don't want to like Namjoon does." He promises. "You can do whatever you want. The only thing I ask is for you to not go near Namjoon. I don't trust him anymore. I made a deal with him to only stay loyal through our business, but other than that, I would rather stay as far away from him as possible."

"I promise, I won't go near him. I'd rather stay away from him anyway." You say, looking to the side. "Hey." He says, placing a finger under your chin and gently turning your head to face him. You look into his sad eyes, and he smiles, cupping your cheek with his large hand. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asks softly. You nod, relaxing into his touch. It feels good here, like you belong here. What is this feeling? Is it because of the tether? The connection? Or is it something else?

"I'm sorry I pulled you into all of this. I'm glad you're not hurt though." He smiles. "Don't be sorry. My life kinda sucked anyway." You giggle, leaning back against the wall next to him. "I still took your life away. I don't know anything about your life and I took away everything you had." He frowns. You turn to face him, grabbing his hand. "I'm a twenty-three year old mail room sorter that lives alone in a studio apartment, has no friends or close family, not even a pet. I went to that party to change up my routine, take a risk. Now, apparently, I'm a vampire with a very handsome master in the most beautiful house I've ever been in. I don't think you ruined anything." You smile.

"You think I'm attractive?" He asks, smirking and raising an eyebrow. "That's the part you focus on?" You laugh, and he shrugs. "I wasn't sure if you actually thought I was cute or if you just wanted a hook up." You roll your eyes. "Well, I definitely could've met someone ugly. Plus, I'm not exactly one for hook ups, obviously." "So, you don't mind staying here?" He asks. You shake your head, smiling. "I'd love to."

"That's great." He smiles, and it really is the most beautiful smile you've ever seen. The way his plump lips curve, he pearly white teeth exposed. You look at his lips, desperately wanting to feel them on your own. You remember how it felt earlier, and your breath starts to get heavy as you think of what more could've happened if he didn't bite you. Maybe things would've gotten-

"Oh, you're still in your dress." He says, interrupting your thoughts. "Why don't you borrow some of my clothes for tonight and we can go buy you some clothes tomorrow? Or we can even go pick up clothes from your place if you'd prefer that." He suggests. He could order you to do anything he wanted, yet he was very sweet about everything, making sure you don't feel under his control. "I think I'd like my clothes." You nod. "Alrighty then. Tomorrow night we'll go out and get your clothes." He nods. Right. You probably can't go out in the sunlight anymore.

He gets up, going to his dresser and grabbing a shirt and some sweatpants for you. "Here. You can wear these for now." He smiles, handing you the clothes. You get up and take them, smiling your appreciation before going into the bathroom to change. The bathroom is pretty neat, towels neatly folded on a rack, things nicely organized. You slide your dress off, and go to look in the mirror, and realize something strange. Aren't vampires not supposed to see themselves in mirrors? The thought partially leaves you as you see two small, reddish-purpleish dots on your neck. You lean closer, examining the marks carefully. They aren't too noticable, small with only slight bruising. Makeup would be able to cover it right up.

You get dressed and walk back into the room to find Seokjin also dressed in sweatpants, but no shirt, his broad shoulders and toned torso on full display to you. You don't realize you're staring until he walks over to you, smirking and tilting your head to look him in the eyes. "You know, normally it's rude to stare, love." He smirks. "But, you can stare as long as you want." A small gasp leaves your lips, and he chuckles at your reaction. He pulls you close, his body cold to the touch, but you don't mind it. You look at his chest, your small hands running over the skin delicately as his arms wrap around you.

"Y/N..." He trails off, licking his lips. You look up at him, and his face looks soft and tender, but his eyes look darker. "I'm sorry I kinda ruined things earlier. If I didn't, you know, would you have done, things, with me?" He asks. Your eyes widen, surprised that he seems a bit nervous. All you can do is nod, and he raises his eyebrows. "Would you have let me be your first?" You nod again, and he smiles. "Would you still let me do that?" Another nod from you has him as bouncy and giddy as a kid in a candy store.

Did he mean to do this right now? You lick your lips nervously, looking to the side as you wonder if you'd really be okay with doing that now. Seokjin seems to catch on, rubbing your back soothingly. "Hey, we don't have to do it now. Just let me know whenever you're ready. I'll take care of you. Okay?" He speaks softly, and you nod, thankful for his understanding. "Thank you." You whisper. He pulls you closer, slouching to hug you tightly, and you do the same, stretching to wrap your arms around his neck.

You yawn, and he chuckles, looking at the clock on his nightstand. "I guess it is pretty late. Or, early I should say." You pull back to look, and it's seven am. "I think it's bedtime, don't you think, darling?" He asks, and you nod. "Um, if you don't wanna sleep on the bed I have a-" "I wanna sleep in the bed, with you." You interrupt, and he smiles. "Alright then. Which side do you want?" He asks.

You think about your own apartment, the way your bedroom is set up. You don't worry about anyone coming over and spending the night, so your bed is also against the wall. Next to the wall was your favorite way to sleep. "Can I sleep next to the wall?" You ask softly. He nods, placing his hand on your back. You smile, climbing onto the bed and making your way to the other side of the bed. You slide under the covers, and everything is so comfortable, you almost fall asleep immediately. He chuckles, turning off the light and climbing in after you. It's dark, so you can't see anything, but you can feel him next to you.

You face the wall, feeling comforted by how normal feels. He shifts around, his arm slipping under your pillow, but he doesn't move close to you. For some reason, you're thankful for this. You've never cuddled with anyone or anything, so you're thankful he's keeping his distance for now. It might not be so bad to cuddle someone though. What does it feel like, to be so close to someone? In due time, you're sure you'll find out. For now, you drift to sleep, thankful for how kind he is.

[cooliogirl101]

If you're doing the commentary thing still: from 'To Love a Monster', "The fact that Shunsui likes to frequent the Rukongai every few months is a little known secret." to "“Originally, I wasn’t planning on it,” he admits, which is true. Recruiting events like these have a tendency of turning out dreadfully dull. Now, though… “But recent events have made me consider making an exception.”" That might be over 500, if so just cut if off when you feel like it.

(My comments are in bold)

The fact that Shunsui likes to frequent the Rukongai everyfew months is a little known secret. He keeps it that way because he’s foundthat hiding in the nearby districts is the best way to keep Lisa off his backabout his paperwork. (Lisa fighting a losing battle there)

(Plus, once he gets past district three or so, hardly anyonerecognizes him and it’s…nice to be looked at without the usual accompanying aweor adoration. To be treated like a normal person.) (like all the man wants is some people to chill with, he literally invites all his enemies to be his drinking buddies you can’t get much more chill than that)

He’s frequenting a local shogi club in the 4thDistrict of West Rukongai when he comes across one of the regulars grumblingabout “damn genius kids taking all of his money.” A quick glance at the gameshows that the man lost by an impressively large margin. (lol like Sousuke would have tolerated anything less, the proud little shit)

“Who was your opponent, if you don’t mind me asking?”Shunsui asks, interested. It isn’t often he comes across promising new players;it’d be nice to find someone who could offer him a challenge. (be careful what you wish for old man)

“Some random brat,” the man grunts. “Looked ‘bout nine,brown hair, brown eyes. He just left; if you want to catch up with him, you’dbetter hurry.”

After murmuring a word of thanks, Shunsui heads out of theclub and just manages to catch a glimpse of brown hair before it vanishesacross a corner. A quick shunpo brings him to a nearby rooftop, where he findsthat the kid looks…oddly familiar. It takes Shunsui a few minutes of followingthe boy around before he’s able to place him as the bold little thief from afew years back, and when he does Shunsui can’t help but feel faintly surprised.While souls aren’t exactly confined to the district they’re sent to after theirdeath, between a lack of funds and the risk of running into hollows in theforests separating the districts, he’s found that few are comfortable withtraveling around. Given that the last time he saw the boy, they were in the 37thdistrict of East Rukongai and they’re currently in the 4th districtof West Rukongai…well, it suggests a certain level of mobility that Shunsuihadn’t expected. (that’s because most kids don’t fight hollows for fun)

“So are you justgonna hide there and stare at me all day, or…?” The boy calls out abruptly.Shunsui considers his options, shrugs, and proceeds to jump down from therooftop, where he finds himself on the receiving end of a suspicious glare.

“Ah, so you noticed me. I was wondering if you would,” hesays, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. He isn’t exactly surprised—hewasn’t really trying to hide in the first place, and he’s discovered thatRukongai kids tend to have better instincts than most.

“You’ve been following me. Why?” The boy cuts in, expressiongiving no indication as to whether or not he recognizes him. After a moment ofconsideration, Shunsui decides to go with the truth. (Smart choice, Shunsui. I mean, they still won’t trust you but at least you haven’t given them a reason to actively distrust you)

“Saw that game you just played and was pretty impressed,” hesays with an easy smile. “Don’t suppose you’d indulge me in a match?”

“I’d love to, I really would, but nee-chan says I’m notallowed to go off with lonely old men,” the boy answers without missing a beat.Shunsui chokes, feeling more than a little indignant at the implication, andproceeds to revise his opinion of the boy from ‘brat’ to ‘impertinent littleshit.’

“Hey now, watch yourself! I’m not lonely! I happen to havemany friends, thank you very much. And I’m not old either!” He adds grumpily.“I’ll have you know that I’m in the prime of my life.”

“Mmm, if you say so,” the boy says, tilting his head to theside with an innocent smile. “Is that why you were stalking a prepubescent boy?Nee-chan did say something about menin their mid-life crises having weird habits.”

“And where is yoursister, by the way? Seems a bit careless of her to just let you wander off byyourself, doesn’t it?” Shunsui asks, deciding to change the subject tosomething a little less awkward. The boy’s eyes flash in response but whatsurprises Shunsui is the briefest upsurge in reiatsu that accompanies it.

“Nee-chan knows that I can take care of myself,” he saysdefensively, voice just a little too tight to be casual. (The implication that he can’t take care of himself and needs his big sister to protect him is a surefire way to piss him off. Especially since he takes quite a lot of pride in his ability to protect Sayuri). 

“I have no doubt that you can, but nonetheless I admit Ifind myself a little surprised that she’d leave you on your own,” Shunsuimurmurs, extending his reiatsu. He hadn’t noticed it before, hadn’t beenlooking for it, but now he can tell that there are small fluctuations in theboy’s energy—telltale signs that it’s being suppressed. “Unless, of course…”

As if on cue, a small figure slips out from the shadowsbehind him as the other half of the duo goes to stand beside her brother. Looking at them, Shunsui is once again taken aback by just how alike theylook—the girl’s features are a touch more delicate while the boy’s eyes are ashade lighter, but aside from that they look eerily similar. (yeah the omnitsukudo would literally kill to get her. Hasn’t even reached puberty yet and already has enough control over her reiatsu to hide from a captain? Granted, said captain wasn’t trying very hard to find her, but still)

“Otouto,” the girl greets her brother, although she doesn’ttake her eyes off him. It also doesn’t escape his notice that neither of themhave referred to each other by name so far. “I thought I told you not to speakto suspicious characters.”

Oh, come on, Shunsuithinks in exasperation. First implied pedophile, and now ‘suspiciouscharacter’? At this rate, these kids are going to give him a complex. (and yet, in some weird way, he finds them charming.)

“Maa, maa, I mean no harm,” Shunsui says, holding his handsup. He isn’t surprised to note the same fluctuations in the girl’s reiatsu,although hers are far more subtle. It does bring up the question though ofexactly how much reiatsu these kids have,for them to feel the need to suppress it. Hiding his reiatsu is all butsecond nature to him as a captain—it has to be, since the slightest loss ofcontrol over it tends to send grown men sprawling to their knees—but for two kids to do so? Who are these children,exactly? (Kyouraku: “You mean to tell me you’ve developed better reiatsu control than most seated officers on your own?” Twins: “What, like it’s hard?”)

“Would it help if I introduced myself? Kyouraku Shunsui, Captain ofthe Gotei 13’s Eighth Division, at your service.”

This time, the surge in the boy’s reiatsu is far morepronounced but interestingly enough, the girl’s doesn’t waver. A testament toher control, perhaps…? 

“And what business does a captain have with two kids fromthe Rukongai?” The girl asks skeptically, not bothering to offer her own name.

“Well, as someone who visits these areas relativelyfrequently, I figured it was my duty to inform you of some of the localattractions. See, in two weeks, district three of North Rukongai will beholding its annual dango festival,” he says, studying them closely. “It’s alsowhere a few members from the Gotei 13’s First Division will be holding aninformation session for those who might be interested in becoming shinigami.”

“Don’t you need high spiritual energy levels in order tobecome shinigami, though?” The girl questions, expression unreadable.

“Of course, but I don’t think that’s something either of youneed to worry about, am I right?” He asks with a smile. The boy stiffens andthe girl’s eyes narrow minutely, but to their credit, neither of them botherdenying it. “You don’t need to come; I’m not forcing you to. Just…consider it,okay?” (In which the twins meet their match in the ‘seeing through bullshit’ department. Kyouraku isn’t buying their act of ‘harmless impertinent children who don’t know any better’ any more than they’re buying his act of ‘harmless old man’)

With that, he turns around and begins to head back in thedirection of the Seireitei, whistling to himself as he goes. He gets about tenfeet before the boy—and he really needs to learn their names, he can’t justkeep referring to them as ‘the girl’ and ‘the boy’—calls out.

“Will you be there? At the information session, I mean,” heasks. Shunsui pauses, but doesn’t turn around.

“Originally, I wasn’t planning on it,” he admits, which istrue. Recruiting events like these have a tendency of turning out dreadfully dull. Now, though… “Butrecent events have made me consider making an exception.”

(because despite everything...he’s taken a liking to them)