#it was my first time riding splash and i felt my soul leave my body meanwhile brigid rode it like every day bc of dcp LOL

[starredhowell]

how it feels to watch dapg lately with how unhinged their comments are

[oops-aquarius]

tainted kisses

summary: steve needs some relaxation, which you provide to him

warnings: smut (!!!!), praise kink, slight degradation kink, a little bit of angst cuz a hoe is sad, oral fixation (duh), slight dom/sub dynamics (?), mentions of sadness/depression, tiny mommy kink (like barely there)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2.2k

note(s): not edited well at all, also i used a prompt generator to get the promt i used (which is below !!)

prompt: “baths or water (tubs or jacuzzis; hot springs; water houses or steam rooms; the ocean; swimming pools.”

kink: “Oral fixation or fetishization (lips, tongue, or whole mouth; french-kissing; licking; oral displays using food or beer bottles; smoking cigarettes, cigars, or pipes; biting or chewing one's lip(s))”

--

***this is post-endgame except nobody died, cause im a hoe for all of the avengers***

Steve never realized how much he liked things in his mouth. Not always in a sexual way, at least not until after fighting Thanos.

After fighting for so long, bottling up his emotions was not at all how Steve needed to cope. He tried the yoga and meditation route Wanda had so kindly suggested. Yeah, after one session of hot yoga, Steve decided that it wasn't going to happen. Tony, obviously, suggested sex. Said something about it being a “healing experience for the soul”. That’s bullshit were Steve’s first thoughts when that came out of his mouth. Bucky told him to get some goats and raved about how therapeutic it was to raise them. But Steve could barely take care of himself, how would he even take care of a goat? Steve felt a hot sense of hopelessness burn against the back of his eyes as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the adjoined bathroom door.

“Steve?” A soft knock came from the front door. He took his thumb away from his mouth, he had resorted to subconsciously nibbling on the tip of it. Pulling himself off the door and towards the voice, he rubbed his tear-stricken cheeks in attempts to clean himself up a bit before seeing you.

“One sec, Y/N/N.”

When he opened the door, your face softened a bit before the smile that Steve, secretly, loved so much dropped off your face completely. “Stevie, what happened?”

Stevie, a nickname he hated for his entire life. A name that reminded him of the days before the super solider serum where he was a little guy getting beaten up on the streets of Brooklyn. Stevie, a nickname he loved hearing from your caring voice. Nobody else’s. 

“Just tired, Y/N” he sighed, “so,so tired.”

“Stevie,” your voice caught at the back of your throat. Seeing him in so much pain made your life turn upside down. He doesn't deserve to be in pain. “ S’there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Just stay with me? Please?”

You took him back into his bed and sat with him, just talking about life until his breathing turned back to normal and he seemed partially-okay. 

“Do you want to take a bath?” you asked, still stroking the blonde strands of his hair.

“Are you saying I smell?” He took his face out of the crook of your shoulder, feigning a look of hurt.

“No, punk, I meant to relax. You seemed pretty shaken up and I just wanted to help. I mean, that’s what I do when I feel down, relax in a bat-”

He cuts you off, “I appreciate it. Really, Y/N, I don’t know many people that are as loving and caring as you, sweetheart.” The nickname made a pang in your heart. You had like the super solider since you had met him, but never felt like he reciprocated the feelings. Even though you both cuddled often, and had movie nights, and he always let you beat him while sparring, and that one time you came down with a stomach bug and he fed you soup and-holy shit. Did Steve like you? “Sweetheart?”

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘A bath does sound nice’. What’s got you so suddenly zoned out?” He says, donning a smirk.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get you into that bath, mister,” you had a faux grumpy look on your face as you got up and walked to the bathroom, starting to fill the white, ceramic bathtub with warm water. “Okay, big boy. You need help getting up or are you okay?”

Rolling his eyes at your inauthentic tone, Steve pushes his tensed frame off the body and managed to stumble into the bathroom, while you following him closely to make sure he doesn't fall over from exhaustion.

“I get it, I’m old, but damn Y/N. I can walk perfectly fine,” He chuckles as he pushes himself up to sit on the counter top.

You start to fill up the bathtub with warm water, adding bubbles and lighting a few scented candles. He looked so pretty, hair sticking out in every direction, lips pink and puffy from biting them, his ocean blue eyes still misty as he looks down at his cuticles, picking them slightly. 

“Okay, I’m gonna leave so you can take this bath,” you say, shutting off the faucet, “Got it?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Stevie.”

“Stay, please.” His eyes were watering more than earlier. He had those puppy dog eyes, lip quivering as his voice cracked and wavered even with just a few words. He looked so vulnerable, how could you say no to him?

“Of course, Steve. I mean, the bubbles with kind of cover everything. I’ll just sit next to the tub with you, alright?” You awkwardly giggled and scratched the back of your neck. He nodded, hopping off of the counter and starting to undress himself with a wobble. “Stevie, you’re shaking like a leaf, let me help you.”

His eyes never met yours as you helped him pull his t-shirt over his head and looped your delicate fingers through the waistband of his sweatpants, dragging them down his muscular thighs. “You’re not gonna finish your job, doll?”

His boxers. The only clothes he had left on were his grey boxers. You wanted to give him privacy and not look, especially in such a broken and vulnerable state. But god, you could see the outline of his partially-hard cock through the soft cotton. You thought about what it would be like to have your mouth around his hard length, chocking on it as he rammed himself into the back of your throat.

“Ummm, I just--I thought--I mean I can---Only if you want--” The dirty thoughts clouded your brain. It made speaking a speaking a sentence almost impossible as your mouth watered just thinking about his cock.

“It was a joke, sweetheart,” he laughed heartily, “You’re too adorable.”

Pulling his boxers down his legs, he waddled tiredly over to the tub before stepping in. He groaned in pleasure at the feeling of the warm water encapsulating his exhausted body. You imagined that’s how he’d groan if you sucked his cock so hard he was seeing stars.

You were still facing the door, like you were as Steve got completely undressed. You knew if you turned around and look at him, naked and at ease, you’d jump his bones in a heartbeat. “Come sit with me, Y/N”

And you did. You turned around cautiously, like you expected, the bubbles covered his body enough for you to be able to handle yourself as you sat down next to the tub. You grabbed his hand away from his lips, running your soft fingers over his rough calloused ones. “I always see you biting your nails or cuticle or lips or your pens. Why?”

He sighed, “I’m not sure, I guess it just distracts me?” He said it more like it was a question rather than a statement. “I guess I don’t truly know why I do it, I guess I just enjoy having things in my mouth.”

You could read Steve like a book, his pupils blown with lust, his lip stuck between his teeth, a blush heating up his cheeks. You took a leap of faith.

“Yeah, like what?”

“You.”

His lips were on yours in a flurry, it took a second for you to react, but as soon as you did it felt amazing. Neither of you seemed to care about the water splashing over you as his hands trailed up your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

He pulls away panting, “F-Fuck, Y/N, I need you. Please. Oh my god I need you so bad,” His eyes looked as if they were welling up with tears and he looked so pretty still in the relaxing bubble bath, whimpering and whining for you. 

“God, I need you too, baby,” you stop to look in his eyes sincerely, “Are you sure you want this? I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to do or that you will regret.” Your hand caresses his cheek.

“Just get in here with me and I’ll show you how much I want you,” he whispered, “Need you, really.”

You sighed before your hands moved shakily to take off your t shirt. As much as you wanted this, you were still scared of how the ripped super solider would feel about you and your body, As soon as your shirt was off, Steve was whimpering, dipping his hand into the soapy water to massage his aching cock. This only spurred you to take off your clothes and join him faster. 

“Did I say you could touch yourself, puppy?” Your stern voice caught him off-guard, making him pause his actions with a look of fear on his face. You step into the bathtub, straddling him. Your nails raked up his milky white thighs, trailing up his body admiring the beauty of it. “Y’Know I was planning on being nice to you because you’ve been so good to me, but you might need to be punished, baby? Do you need to punshied like a brat?”

He mewled, bowing his head in shame. You could feel him growing harder and harder by the second and you were starting to go crazy with the empty feeling inside of you that on he could fill. “No, ma’am. I’ll be good, I swear!”

“Mmmm, that’s my good boy.” Your hands slid up his chest and rested on his cheeks, hearing him preen at your praise, as you repositioned yourself over his cock. “Are you sure you want this?”

“If you dont ride me into next week right fucking now I’m going to scream, Y/N,” He breathed out with a chuckle, Grabbing your thighs, he helps you sink down on his cock. Both of you were moaning and whimpering messes by the time you were sitting at this base of him, trying to get adjusted to his large size. 

Hot tears burned at the back of his eyes as soon as you lifted yourself up off of him, only leaving the tip of him inside of you, and slamming back down on his dick. 

“Baby-please,” he whimpered, “n-need, shit, need your fingers, bad.” 

You were confused, slowing down a bit to make sure he was okay. But his puppy dog eyes showed that he was okay. Slowly taking your wrist from his cheek, he puts your fingers in his warm mouth. Moaning around them and swirling his tongue around them. He did it the same way you always dreamed about sucking his dick, chocking and gagging on his length.

“Yeah, you’re such a needy little slut for me, for this pussy. Look at you, so ruined and fucked out just because I’m fucking you.” He moaned sensually at your words making your core tighten impossibly. 

You had gotten a good idea as you were riding him. Slowly, you start to thrust your hand in and out of his mouth, watching the saliva dribble out of the corners of his mouth as he choked on you. The band in your tummy starts tightening as you feel yourself getting close. 

“Shit, fuck, baby, I’m gonna come. Oh my god, you’re make me come with your beautiful cock, puppy. So good for me, aren’t you?” Your free hand dips into the water, cupping his balls and rolling them around your soft palm.

He nods, choking on your nimble finger yet again his you massage his sensitive balls. “Gonna come,” he slurred and spit around you.\, “almost there.”

“I didn’t” you moaned as you feel his balls tighten, fall back down on his cock at a faster pace, “give you permission to do that. I thought you were going to be good for me?”

“I am” he spluttered loudly, “i am good, I swear. Just please let me come. I need it, oh shit, mommy.”

The name went straight to your core, making you grow weak as you feebly give him permission to come as you come undone with one more bounce on his large member. His hands come up to grope your breasts as he come with hot spurts inside of your tight cunt. 

“Oh my god,” you stifle a giggle as you stand up on shaky legs. You wordlessly helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in a white towel, walking him to bed while you dried yourself off. Collapsing on the bed with a grunt, the solider hollds out his hand to you, signalling you to lay down with him. You could easily tell he was still coming down from his sex high, starting to regain his self back.

“I dont know what possessed me to,” he pauses, trying to figure out a way to word the rest of his sentence, “to suck, I guess, on your hand. I’m sorry, Y/N, that was really weird of me.”

“What do’ya mean, baby? Having an oral fixation isn’t something to be ashamed of.” The words make him smile with droopy eyes, tucking his head into your neck and starting to fall asleep, happy and comfortable, cuddling you.

“And to be honest, puppy. I think it’s really hot.”

[bxllafanficc]

Lady of mischief- Part five

Pairing: Loki x Greek!goddess f!reader

Summary: Asgard is having a change of power so there are several events Loki has to get right before he can announce victory against his brother as the next king. But one lady’s approval will change the whole outcome if the stakes are right. That lady is you, intended heir to the throne of Olympus but tied down to a marriage of convenience with one of the princes of Asgard. The prince you choose to marry will be the next king but you refuse to let yourself be a pawn in this game for power. Loki, with his intentions to take you as his queen has far greater reason to marry you than just for the reason of being king. You however, would rather cut off your left arm than exposing yourself for the fact that there’s another purpose besides Loki getting a throne to sit on.

One week later and you found yourself at a sea cliff on Asgard’s largest known bay. You’d brought Henna with you, just like every other day since you got officially banished. Now you couldn’t stand being in the castle and spent almost every waking hour in the city, avoiding the royal family at all cost. Odin even demanded you ate breakfast with them since you were an honored guest but of course you never showed.

Zeus left the day after the banquet and not a word from your parents. They probably didn’t even blink the second he told them their daughter had been locked in with an entire castle of self-centered gods.

“Gods are assholes!” You threw a rock at the size of a basketball into the water and glared at the splash, secretly hoping your father Poseidon would sense it and feel guilt. That was impossible, of course. A Greek god holds no power at the realm of Norse gods.

“My lady, you’re a god.” Henna stayed seated at a comfy rock she found the first day coming to the cliff. She said it was the perfect fit for her to relax her always perfect posture without sloping. You always told her you don’t care if she sloped at non-formal occasions.

“Yes, Henna. Me included.” You were just surprised she didn’t faint because you used such a mundane word, a thing you picked up from the humans on a visit once.

“I can’t stop thinking about what I said to the prince. It was a decade ago, yes, but he still remembers it. Probably thinks about it every time he sees me!” You tried to concentrate on the real reason you were here. To practice. You’d never win anyone’s respect if you couldn’t control your powers. You started with the hardest, the sea; a force that doesn’t want to be tamed.

A pulsing body of water drove up from the sea and flew in front of you. The goal was to force it into a perfect shaped globe, forcing the sea to obey so thoroughly. To your luck the liquid started obeying your wish when you put all your concentration to use. Almost a solid globe. You’d only need a few more seconds to-

“And I’ve already said you should apologize to him. Who knows, you two might hug it out and the next thing you know you wake up naked in his chambers the next day.”

The almost globe burst into millions of droplets and salt burned in your eyes at the shock. Your vision blurred out and you coughed on the water that went down your airways. Heat went to your cheeks and you looked down at your soaked clothes.

“Goodness, Henna! You’ve spent too much time with the Asgardian maids.

You can’t say stuff like that!” Your voice was still faint from the couching as you scolded her. You had to put your focus to use once again to extract the water into fine droplets hanging midair in front of you. The dress was far too pretty to get stained with saltwater. The jewelry looked surreal in the light the dress radiated. Every thread of the fabric seemed to be created of pure shining starlight or liquid diamond. The dress held the beauty of a thousand stars.

No one knew where it appeared from, however. You had your own guess, of course. It laid neatly folded on your work desk one afternoon and if it was the first born prince, he would’ve left some grand note with it as well. The dress just laid there in absence of anyone claiming the rights. An apology for sure.

“Well, you said asshole if I’m not mistaken.” There it was. Henna cleared her throat as a sign to drop the subject but you knew she had a big smirk on her lips. You didn’t want to turn around to confirm it.

“Let’s try again, my lady. Why don’t you try claiming the entire wave coming right there?”

You analyzed the wave and realized what Henna was asking. The size of it was huge and it would surely crash into the cliff side underneath you. Your job was to stop that impact and lift it up to your level.

It was dead silent as you waited for the wave to arrive. With a last big engaging try you felt the power of the sea surging through you. Blocking the impact of the wave lashing itself forwards was similar feeling to getting that same wave right in the face like a wall of bricks. But it was not in vain. The water started to rise to the cliff you stood on and you had to replace your feet for a better stance. Every second the sea threatened to leash out of your hold.

“How mighty.” A soothing voice, yet laced with viciousness, appeared only a hot breath away from your ear and you screamed.

The scent of new books hit you too late and the wave had already been unleashed on the threat behind you. The water had devided around your frame, covering Henna and Loki from head to toe in seawater without showing mercy. The sea held no mercy. Right…

A moment of silence and Loki still had his eyes tightly shut, his entire body frozen in place. He’d been less than an inch from you and you hadn’t noticed. He was still less than an inch from your bodies touching.

He slowly went to wipe one of his eyes clean of water and tasted the layer of salt glancing his lips. You cursed yourself for noticing the shameful way his tongue swiped across his bottom lip. Did he take the warm weather with him somehow or why was it suddenly growing hot again? And why did he look so different with the drenched clothes hugging his frame, hair slicked back. The dripping from the each strand fell and caressed the heavy outline of his collarbones.

What were you even thinking about. He must’ve done something. A spell of some sort.

“That was unnecessary.” He said it as simple as ever and it made you grit your teeth.

Stop staring at his abs, dammit!, you thought.

It had to be a spell. This couldn’t be real.

“Why are you here?” You weren’t prepared for this. He was supposed to be on a mandatory meeting right now. Did he just right up ditch that?

“You’re no fun… I came with a proposition.”

“Of what sorts?” You eyed him with careful detail, trying to sense a trick of some sort. His gaze lingered on your appearance a little too long from what seemed appropriate. It was a thorough scan up and down and the soul behind the eyes held a strange glow. Of course he was shocked you wore the dress he bought.

“We can teach each other things. You tell me stories and history of the Ancient Greece, your kind’s gracious era and I teach you illusion magic.” He could tell your raised eyebrow was a sense of confusion. “Like, combining water and light into something entirely new. I’ll teach you how to conjure spells-“

“Like the one you’re doing now?” It just slipped out of you and it was too late to ignore. It was now his turn to look confused. The tip of his tongue came out once again to wipe off some salt and you looked away.

“What?” He asked.

“Whaaat?” You repeated along with a dumb giggle you had no idea where it came from. The already tight fabric of Loki’s shirt was riding up from the wet fabric rolling itself up. You really did try not to think about how the pearls of droplets looked like glitter in the sun on his toned stomach, but realized that you already failed. You swallowed a hot lump of dryness that caught in your throat.

So no spell then?

Loki sighed and cracked a tense muscle in his neck, a green light drying him and his clothes from bottom and up in a matter of a second (Henna remained drenched).

“Just say no quickly, there’s no reason to drag it out. I’ll leave you be when you’ve answered.” You bit your bottom lip and actually took a moment to think about it.

“Actually, it doesn’t sound too awful. But don’t you already know everything about my realm there is to know?” That earned a genuine smile from him and you thought about how that was a rare sight.

“You’d be surprised of how understocked Asgard’s library is when it comes to your history, your highness.”

“And stop calling me that! It’s weird. You never did it before so why do it now?”

“I thought you disliked me being informal.”

“Oh do shut up!”

Loki laughed and nodded in agreement. It was just then you realized how you were still inappropriately close to him and how his breath smelled of something sweet. Something brushed past your hand and Loki retracted his own with a flinch and an apologetic look.

“I’m s-“ Loki started but Henna’s loud cough and pointed glare.

“Wait!”

“Yes?”

“I don’t… I don’t find you disgusting.” You watched his expression and expected him to get upset but nothing in his body language seemed tense. If anything, his jaw and shoulders seemingly dropped.

“That’s like the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” His chuckle was bright but your gut still twisted in shame.

“No but like, I don’t find your touch disgusting. I never did, actually-“ The amount of truth you entrusted this man with was almost too much. The words were so tense on the way out that you started coughing.

“Then why did you-“

“I don’t know! No more questions though. All I know is that it was far from unpleasant and that’s all you need to know for now.” Loki raised his eyebrow, lips slightly parted. You understood you’d talked before your brain caught up with you again.

“No, that came out wrong. But you know what I mean!” Your hands fiddled on the edges of the dress, only to flatten out the fabric right after. The dry lump just couldn’t seem to go down.

“Oh I sure do… And I agree with you on how we speak to each other. I hate speaking to you formally! It doesn’t sit right for me especially. Then I wouldn’t be able to say the stuff I actually want.”

“Like what?” You regretted asking immediately but couldn’t bring yourself to step back as he leaned in.

Lips brushed against your earlobe and his scent was all up in your world, along with the surreal warmth that always seemed to follow him.

“That dress looks absolutely ravishing on you, (Y/n). I never thought you’d wear it to be honest. We’re you really planning on fleeing the castle on such an occasion and not letting me see any of the beauty?” His voice turned low again and the always present rasp seemed extra present today.

The dry lump finally went down.

“You could’ve gifted it to someone else if you wanted to see the dress on an actual body instead of a hanger.”

A low rumbling came from his chest and erupted in his throat. It took you a moment to realize that the sound was a chuckle.

“See, I don’t think that’s true. Yes, any person could wear it, but I can’t think of anyone else who could wear one of the most beautiful things crafted ever and the most beautiful thing in the room would still remain the person in it.”

You couldn’t move your body. It was frozen in place even though the blood in your veins was literally boiling. You were almost thankful that he was so close. That way he wouldn’t see your red cheeks.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Why would I lie about it? Meet me in the library tomorrow after breakfast. I look forward to our time together.”

(A/N: Hi! Don’t hesitate to comment on each chapter what you thought about it/if you liked it since that keeps me motivated to keep writing. Also reblog so my story reaches a wider audience, if you really liked it! Your support is much appreciated. Also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this series. Have a good day, lovelies!)

Find the other parts in my MASTERLIST

Tag list: @liffydaze

@queen-of-mischief

@girl-obsessed-with-things

@obsessivelysearching

@reverse-iak

@perpetually-exhausted-and-tired

[kkruml]

STAY CH 16

I am absolutely gobsmacked by all the love this wee story has gotten over time. I did not intend for it to take as long as it did to find the ending to this story, but alas, life and circumstances (and a f*cking pandemic) got in the way. BUT- it’s here. The final chapter. I hope you all have enjoyed the ride. This story started off as a prompt about a trope that I had always enjoyed but never considered writing. I am glad I took the leap and am forever grateful for the support and beta magic that are @abreathofsnowandwaffles​ and @missclairebelle​. Without you both I would never have attempted this. I love you both.

To everyone who has read, shared, and enjoyed (even a little!) this story, thank you.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

AO3

Mood music

Previously

Whole.

The word danced around the corners of her mind. Her eyes shifted from him to the golden hues splashed across the sky. Was she whole? Twisting her wrist for inspection, she felt no sharp pain, just a dull ache from use.

No longer broken.

Now came the recovery. As a doctor she had seen the scans, she knew the rehabilitation trajectory. Yet here, with him, the statistics and analytical journal findings faded from mental view. Here, in this moment, she was simply Claire. With Jamie. Her Jamie. An overwhelming sense of calm washed over her.

“I think I know exactly what you mean,” drawing her gaze back to him, she exhaled contentedly. Instinctively, her hand reached out for his, taking it gently. “Thank you, Jamie.”

“Och, ‘tis nothing lass.” Dirt-stained fingertips pressed into her skin. His warmth encompassed her.

“Jamie…” she started, her eyes lowering to see their fingers intertwined. Blinking hard and tilting her face to meet his, she finished, “I don’t just mean for today.”

An echo of a smile tugged at his lips and he exhaled.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” His voice hummed, soft and tender. “There’s the two of us now.”

His words were so simple. But there was something in the blue of his eyes that spoke to the depth of his meaning. Her breath caught as she felt the same weight of prophecy to his words.

CLAIRE

Blue.

Whisky.

Stay.

The words whispered to her in a soft rhythm, beckoning her from sleep. One eye begrudgingly parted and she was blessed with the sight of Jamie’s face. His nose, straight and angled, thick stubble dappled his cheeks, and the line of his lips curled into a small smile while he slept. 

She had missed that quiet smile. 

It had been so long. Since the accident. 

She yearned for it. 

Ached for it.

Shifting slightly onto her side she felt his arm tighten around her waist, and a flutter of a giggle tickled her chest.

He had been gentle with her, almost too gentle. At first he kept a respectable space as to avoid injuring or jostling her arm, or pressing into her ribs as they healed. But then as days passed, they became hesitant with each other as a small crack formed and slowly spread to fill the space between, a sliver at a time. 

It had been weeks. But tonight, he had reached out to her in sleep. 

Perhaps it was the whisky from the hours earlier, or the heady tension between them as they traded glasses and slipped farther and farther into their own bubble, consumed by each other’s mere presence that she’d felt a shift between them. His warmth encompassed her and flushed her cheeks before dipping into her chest. She burned for his touch. Her fingers trembled as they slowly rose towards his face, before stopping just short of his jawline. She faltered for a moment, losing her nerve. 

What if he woke up? 

The thought lit the fire that had sunk just below her belly button and her lip quivered. The boldness she felt that night, all those months ago- that night he bared his soul to her, the night he told her about the accident- that strength had slowly faded from her with each passing day since her injury. 

Gently placing her hand back onto her side, her eyes traced the solid line of muscle from his shoulder down to his elbow. Perfect peaks and valleys were highlighted by the faint moonlight. Reveling in the knowledge that he was hers, she let out a satisfied sigh.

A glow from the bedside table caught her attention and she rolled her eyes. She knew who it was, and what the message said, and she silently cursed herself for the spontaneous text earlier. A moment of alcohol-induced bravery had prompted a bold proclamation. That tonight, she would reclaim that lost and most intimate connection with Jamie… in a somewhat less than mature manner of speaking.

Lifting the phone enough to see the screen, she caught the text that flashed.

    Have ye crawled out from under the Viking for air yet?

Geillis. 

To be honest, there were a few moments she thought that it might happen. Jamie’s gaze grew more menacing and his fingers lingered as they traced the lines of her hem at the small of her back, all the while whispering old stories of Lallybroch in her ear so close that she could taste the amber liquid on his breath. But then… after stumbling past the doorway into their bedroom, with fits of laughter breaking between them, they settled into a coy yet contented ball of sheets and blankets on the bed. 

She had welcomed the weight of his body against hers as their laughter softly echoed off the bedroom walls. But with a swift tug of the comforter beneath them, he had rolled clumsily onto her left side and the spell between them was broken. Stammering his way through an impassioned apology, he shifted his body, overcompensating for the contact and leaving ample space between them. The buzzing electricity between them simmered and the courage she’d come so close to wielding receded. After a few more gentle smiles and muttered apologies from Jamie, they both had drifted into blissful sleep. But that ache persisted, and it rose from a dull ache to a heady throb.  

With a half-hearted sigh, she tapped the screen to respond.

    Will catch up tomorrow. Too tired and too much whisky tonight ;)

Three bubbles quickly appeared on her screen as Geillis’s words flashed quickly.

    Aye. Too much ‘Whisky.’ As ye say. XO

That was not what she meant, but she didn’t correct Geilis. They would see each other tomorrow, and she would set the record straight then. Maybe. 

Struggling to settle her mind back into the quiet darkness of the room, she let her eyelids close and the words beckoned again.

Stay. Please stay.

Her fingers twitched. Her head swirled with the words, and then a melody slowly seeped in and clouded her thoughts. An almost torturous rhythm played over and over in her head, keeping sleep at bay and forcing out the memories of the night before. 

Sighing again, this time in resignation, she slowly slid off the bed. Gently moving his arm to rest on the space she had just vacated, she paused. Gazing at his perfect form in the tangle of sheets in their bed for a moment longer, she then turned on her heel and padded out of the room.

Where is that bloody guitar?

-

JAMIE

Claire.

Mmm. Feeling the warmth against his palm, he contracted his muscles and pulled a tangle of empty bed sheets against his chest. 

Where is she?

Thoughts came quickly, erratic and half-formed as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. 

His last vision of her was in bed next to him, a beautiful mosaic of dark curls and light skin, splintered in his mind but beautiful nonetheless.

It was still late… no- early? The soft morning light had not yet fully crept through the curtains, but it kissed the soft linen and a glow inched across the bedroom floor.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he could still, but barely, see her face as they stumbled into his, no their flat just hours before- lips parted in a beaming grin, eyes warm and glowing, curls spilling out of a bird’s nest atop her head. 

Having stopped at a local pub in a desperate attempt to prolong their evening, the memory of her leaning in closely as each drop of amber fluid eased the tension in her shoulders.  The heat on her breath as she whispered new Gaelic words she had been studying but never said aloud settled in his bones and burned just under the surface. The timidity between them had receded with every look, every brush of skin against each other. Like a balm on a healing wound, her every look and movement was a salve on his soul. 

Shaking his head, the memory slowly faded, and he blinked ruefully as it subsided. He heard a faint sound, a slight… plucking of strings? Moving quickly through the flat he eyed his guitar stand in the corner by the couch- empty.

His lip twitched and he fought the sensation. Doesna mean anything.. Or does it?

Grabbing the tumbled mass of tartan on the cushion, he slinked his way up the fire escape to the rooftop, following the sounds of his guitar as the notes tweaked and came into tune.

-

CLAIRE

There’s my C. Finally.

He said it would come with time, but neglected to mention just how tedious tuning a guitar could be. It always seemed to sing when he played, a natural extension of himself. 

Effortless. 

He was right.

A small echo of a laugh bubbled in her chest. He was always so sure when he spoke. Whether he was storytelling or gesticulating on the latest rugby match. There was a conviction in his words, and in this instance, she knew he was right. What the strings and pick are to him, a scalpel and needle are to her.

She plucked the string again. 

Bloody Scot was right. 

And she was grateful for it.

Letting out a quick breath into the crisp night air, her eyelids fluttered shut as the words undulated in her mind, like a tide rolling in. Growing closer, then receding before pushing closer and closer, she surrendered to the pulsating rhythm. 

With a quick roll of the wrist, and sigh of relief as it cooperated without sign of pain, she set her fingers against the strings. The words thrummed in her ears, echoing as the memory struggles to come into focus. 

“Nothing is lost… please stay.”

JAMIE

His breath caught as his eyes found her, freezing him. An unruly mess of dark curls cascaded around her, the wind toying with a strand as it twisted and fluttered in the air, the curves of her shoulders draped in his favorite rugby shirt.   

He stood breathlessly, watching as her hand absentmindedly grasped the errant lock and tucked it behind one ear. The movement was subtle, but made his heart pound. Her wrist, newly healed and etched with fresh scars, moved with an ease. There was a fluidity, an almost absent-mindedness he hadn’t seen in weeks.

Her chin was set in determination, her lower lip tucked between her teeth and head cocked as if the guitar was whispering its secrets to her. The curve of her back matched the line of his guitar, two of his favorite things molded into one.

A Dhia.

She was beautiful.

With a heavy exhale to take in the scene, his body rested against the metal railing. A high pitched creak filled the air and he watched as her face jerked toward him in panic. The current of gold in her eyes settled slightly as they fixed on him before igniting into a deep ember.

-

CLAIRE

His hair was tousled from sleep, but his eyes were electric, and the slope of his lips, parted as raspy breath escaped, filled her vision. The heat of his stare traveled down her throat with a hard swallow, descending into the depths just below her navel. Blinking hard to quell the feeling, she held her gaze, letting his beauty overtake her nerves.

“Are ye alright, mo nighean donn?” his voice cut through the darkness. It shook just slightly as the Gaelic punctuated his question, two fingers tapping against his thigh. 

My brown haired lass.  

She remembered the first time he’d called her that. He promised one day he’d tell her what it meant. Instead, she’d found them in an old, nondescript and dusty book on his shelf... or perhaps the words found her. She reveled in knowing what it meant as he’d whisper it in darkness, tender and soft. 

“Y-yes, quite,” she started as pulled herself back to the present. Letting a deep sigh encompass her, she met his eye. “Did I wake you?”

“Ach no, I just dinna...” he started as twitching fingers ran through his hair. “ I just… dinna sleep well wi’out ye with me.”

“Oh.” she said quietly, letting a small smile play at her lips as heat rose in her chest. “I wanted to show you something.”

One eyebrow quirked and with it came a breathtaking grin framed by fiery red hair and electric blue eyes. “I seem to recall ye said once that they let anyone play.”

-

JAMIE

“Och! You don’t need to ruin the moment,” she said with exasperation.

“Wai- what?”  His ears perked at the noise. Cocking his head to the side, he tried to find the words. “Was that...Did ye just-” 

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, she countered, “Wot?”

“Tis nothing,” he started, recovering from his stumble. “That was just a decidedly Scottish sound there…” 

“I most certainly did not,” her voice stuttered on the last word, her eyebrows creasing as he watched her question her own words. 

Thank the laird for small miracles and glass faces.

“Are ye sure yer a Sassenach aft-after all?” A laugh rumbled from his chest as he moved toward her, “Ye do a fine version of a salty auld Highlander indeed.” 

“Well,” her lips parted in a conciliatory smile and her eyes glowed. “I seem to have learned from the best.”

A breeze filled the space between them and he caught her slight frame shiver.

“Are ye cold, Sassenach?” he asked, drawing out the last word for emphasis. She was an outlander, a most rare and precious gift. 

“I’m alright,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders, but there was no conviction behind her voice.

“Dinna be stubborn lass, I can hear yer teeth rattle from here.” He countered with an attempt at a wink. In truth, it was an excuse, any excuse to move closer to her. 

Her face softened and she sighed, nodding as she bit down on her lower lip. His eyes darted to her mouth, tracing every curve and line. His tongue reflexively darted out and licked his lips, aching to taste her breath against his skin. Balling his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out to touch her face, his fingers dug into crumpled up fabric- the tartan soft and warm in his hand.

The tactile sensation brought him from his thoughts, and he held it out to her as he closed the space between them. His lips curled as he cocked his head, “After all… Ye canna bring dishonor on the Fraser colors, Sassenach.” 

“Oh mon dieu, first the Fréselière and now your clan’s colors and creed?” Her eyes were alight with humor as she turned to fully face him, his guitar shifting in her lap. She inhaled sharply, her eyes intent and glowing, “My hands seem to be full at the moment... might you help?”

He stood still, surprised for a moment but swallowed hard and gathered up the material in both hands. Timidly, he wrapped his arms around her, her hair tickling his nose as he leaned in close.

Pressing against him softly, her voice was low and heavy as she said, “Thank you.”

Giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, he set himself on the seat next to her- close but not quite touching. “Ach, so ye had something to play then, aye?”

“Well it’s just the start of something, I think,” she mumbled.

The familiar chords echoed between them as she hummed the melody. Had he played that for her before? He didn't think he had?

-

CLAIRE

She pulled her eyes from her fingers as they pressed into the cords to find his gaze heavy on her. She hummed for a few beats and then with eyes closed she exhaled with contentment. 

“Clear blue….” she breathed, waiting for the next chord progression to continue with a disjointed “world of whiskey.” The strings vibrated against her fingertips before she whispered the lines that had repeated over and over in her mind, “Nothing is lost… Please stay.”

Slowly, she opened her eyes to see him staring at her. His hands were clasped together tightly, fingernails dug slightly into ruddy, sunkissed skin.

“I wasn’t sure.. I mean, it’s-” she was suddenly shy, embarrassed. It was absurd to try to explain, the words just… were to her.

His face was frozen and his lower lip quivered. With a low, shaky voice he asked, “Where did ye find those words?”

“They just…” she started. Without thinking she continued, the words tumbling out of her, “They just came to me. I think it was a dream. I was drowning, and then I saw... light. Wings. And then a voice asking me to stay.”

“Mo Chridhe,” his voice was almost a whisper, each word quiet but strong. “That was me.”

She struggled to understand the pain in his voice. “You?”

Fragmented time flashed through her mind. Her father, the heron’s wings. The tattoo. The flutter of wings in her ears as she lay in that bed. Through it all, the words, those words- they cut through the noise. 

It was him.

-

JAMIE

He watched her, waiting. The realization flashed across her face.

Her voice was almost a whisper, but her eyes were a smoldering amber.  Her voice was sure, true. “It was you.” 

She remembered.

The weeks lost to the accident and the uncertainty of what was to come when she couldn’t remember- the truths they had shared… it was still there. A weight lifted from his chest and he exhaled for what felt like the first time in weeks.

Whatever it was between them, that awful night hadn’t stolen it from them. As she had lain, still and broken, in that hospital bed amidst a rhythmic beeping of machines and hushed voices in the hallway, he had sung to her. 

And she had heard him.

“It was me,” he said simply, wanting to repeat those words over and over again. Inching close, eyes trained on her, he let the echo of a smile pull at his lip. “I had trouble finishing the line.”

The whisky in her eyes burned as her chest heaved with effort. The gravity of the moment threatened to crumble her facade, and she struggled to keep her tone light, “Yes, you did.”

The confirmation sent a shock wave through him. “So, Sassenach…” he let his voice fade as he contemplated. His voice hung between them, both unsure of how to speak.

-

CLAIRE

His voice was low, his irises almost black. “How does it end then?” 

The silence throbbed between them like a heartbeat. The weight of his question lingered. Seemingly innocent on the surface, the deeper meaning reverberating between them. 

With a small smile, her fingers touched the strings. Without breaking eye contact, she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. 

“Your face is my heart and the love of you…” she paused, wanting the words to ring true. Her hand twitched and curled to find the strings without difficulty as she finished, “My soul.” 

The chord hung between them, the vibration echoing against her skin. Without looking away, she gently set the guitar down as the note dissipated and scattered into the air. The wind whipped between them, the familiar scent of linen, sandalwood and him struck her as she watched him, waiting.

“I thought I’d lost ye,” his voice was gravely as it tumbled out of him, carrying the weight of the last several weeks. His eyes were focused on a point in the distance. When he pulled his gaze to her, she saw a pool of tears threatening to brim over. Speaking the truths he’d hidden even from himself, his voice broke as he said, “First wi’ the accident and then ye lost sae many memories of… us. I just couldna bear it- losing ye, losing us.”

“Jamie…” her chest constricted as she watched his face contort and relive that night.

-

JAMIE

“I dinna ken what I’d do wi’out ye. I was born-” He felt the desperation in his voice, but he couldn’t stop it. She had to know. Had to understand. She needed to feel the love that nearly burst out of his chest, and the agony he’d kept at bay these last long few weeks. He pushed his fingers through his curls as the words spilled out in fragments, “I  was- I c-cannae explain it I just… just….  Christ!”

All the words he needed to say came crashing down in his mind and he couldn’t form a single thought to sort them out. He stood helplessly, two digits thrumming against his leg.

Her tone was low as she peeked through furrowed brows and dark lashes, “... I was born for you?”

“Aye,” His eyes darted to her face, the air ripped from his lungs. “How did ye know?”

“Jamie…” her voice was small but warm.  “I’ve whispered those same words.. I’ve known that every day since I met you.”  

“Claire,” his voice coiled around her name, reveling in the sound. His fingers twitched again as he raised his hand to her face, cupping the smooth porcelain of her cheek.

-

CLAIRE

Feeling the dam break, she leaned into his touch. “Bha mi gad ionndrainn.”

His hand sunk into her hair, pulling her to him. Grasping his forearms, she pressed her forehead to his. “I’ve missed you, too.”

His breath was heated against her cheek, a faint scent of whisky lingered between them. Her fingers slowly lifted to trace the line of his jaw, the stubble coarse against her skin. They settled just below his jawline, feeling his pulse quicken against her fingertips. Tentatively, she lifted his face to meet hers, and it was breathtaking. Dark flecks interrupted the turbulent blue in his eyes, and they trained on hers with a weight that ignited a fire in her chest.

“I would like-” he started, his voice raspy and raw. His skin was almost vibrating with need. “-Very much to kiss you. May I?”

An ache pulled deep in her belly as she struggled to focus on the words- the anticipation filling her senses. Struggling to focus, she blinked hard and smiled, “You may.”

His fingers intertwined in her hair as he leaned in, soft yet firm. With a final sigh, she closed her eyes and tilted her chin to meet his. His lips were warm and full, quickly molding to hers. With two more movements her tongue was tracing his lip and as she felt them part, she pushed against him with arms snaking around his neck.

Tongues pulsed and kneaded against each other as her hands found his hair as his arms circled around her waist. His fingers urgently sought her skin, pressing into the flesh at the small of her back as she arched into him. The aching need of the past weeks melted away with every movement and every ragged breath between them.

-

JAMIE

Every thought scattered. There was nothing but her. She filled every sense. The lavender of her shampoo, the velvety touch of her skin against his fingertips as he pulled her closer, the sound of her exhale as she reignited their kiss. He needed her now.

 For all the time and distance and tentative silence that had grown between them, speaking was now unnecessary. 

He needed to show her the way he loved her. Struggling for composure, one hand snaked up into her hair and he pulled back his lips and held her in place. 

Her lips were swollen, cheeks flushed and beautiful. Her eyes were a fiery gold and glistened with a thin film of tears. 

Sorcha.

Sassenach.

Claire.

She was his, he was hers. Shattered apart, a beautiful mosaic of both pain and triumph together. They fought for this. They earned this. 

Her breath was shaky but her voice was calm, “Will you have me?”

The gold specks in her eyes burned like embers as she held his gaze. His skin pulsed with electricity as her fingers lifted the tartan to cover his shoulders. Leaning forward and gently lowering her to the ground, he felt the soft warmth of her body beneath her and he knew he was home. She was home to him. 

“Yes,” he whispered as the heat in his chest reverberated out into his fingertips. 

He would have had her, any part of her, in any way he could- even the quiet, timid moments of the past few weeks where he had scarcely dared to touch her. But here, now, he saw that each crack and fracture she had endured had only healed stronger. Made more beautiful by the very lines of black etched into her skin, the flap of a heron’s wing flashed before his eyes before fading into the vision of her face.

He pressed against her as he lowered his face to hers.  “Yes, I’ll have you.”

Now and forever.

[oftenderweapons]

Steamy Waters — Taehyung

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Lace)

Wordcount: 7.6k ( mostly edited✌️)

Genre: smut, pwp, fluff, slightest angst, established relationship, idol!AU

Rating: 18+ (As usual, I know)

Hello baby bears! Welcome to Taehyung’s Steamy Waters. I must admit this episode is going to be a lot steamier than planned, but I cannot lament. Recently we celebrated Taehyung’s birthday, so I thought I could add a little extra as a late celebration.

There’s not much plot, honestly. Tae and Lace are bathing together in true Kim Taehyung fashion when the intrusive presence of mirrors on every bathroom wall makes it hard not to stare at each other. And when wandering hands — and wandering feet... and wandering mouths — start wandering too much the temperature in the room becomes too hot to handle. Chaos ensues. Especially when Taehyung is... at her service.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: swearing. Wine drinking. Humping, bathtub sex, unprotected sex within an established relationship (don’t make me tell again that you and your partner(s) should be clean before going condomless); massage, slight footjob; oral fixation (not only in terms of oral sex, both male and female receiving btw) but also foot worship, breast worship, body shot, face riding (male receiving), cum eating; spanking, one (1) pussy spank; masturbation (female receiving), also anal fingering (external stimulation only); maid!Taehyung, switch!Taehyung, hard dom!Taehyung, big dick!Taehyung, soft domme!reader, very sub!reader; hair pulling/grabbing; choking kink, degradation kink, overstimulation, squirting, sensory blackout. Taehyung uses a safeword (yellow); did I mention that MIRRORS ARE BACK BUT THIS TIME IT’S WORSE? And if you didn’t guess VOYEURISM 24 out of 10. Also, the softest aftercare and mentions of sleeping pills to help reader relax after... ahem... all of those. Things. In the trigger warnings.

In case you need my masterlist, here it is :)

Enjoy! 💜✨

A jazz piece was playing on the modern gramophone in a corner of the bathroom, somewhere far from the tub, where you and Taehyung would most likely make a splash and quite surely ruin the device.

Taehyung was laying at the opposite side of the tub, head thrown back as your foot rubbed his thigh.

You were pretty chill yourself, arms pressed against the edge of the tub, keeping you from relaxing too much and going under.

“Baths are magic.” You murmured, your toes meeting his hip before sliding back down again.

He hummed in confirmation. “The only problem is with washing one’s hair. It’s so uncomfortable.” He caught your foot underwater, his thumbs digging in the few knots you felt there. If the bath was magic, his hands were miraculous.

You felt your whole body melt and slide half an inch lower, your self restraint too weak to stop you from moaning.

Taehyung smiled fondly and sensuously. “You like it there?” He asked, his fingers moving to the heel, pressing against all those spots he knew from his acupressure appointments.

Your whole leg went insensitive in a very pleasing way. “Yes, you like it, dove.” He said, grinning and moving to your calf, specifically to the spot where the muscle met the bone near your ankle.

“Don’t want your ankles to swell.” He said, pushing your foot into slow, articulate circles.

Your soul definitively abandoned your body.

“We’ll put ice packs on these bad girls as soon as you’re out of the tub.” He said.

“It’s not that bad.” You said, just as he drew two parallel lines with his thumbs digging into your muscle reaching the back of your knee.

You had to grip the rim of tub to keep yourself from end up with your head underwater.

“It is that bad.” He said, rubbing small circles and making sure that all the exertion was magically sucked out of you. “No need to lie to me.” He said, looking at you with his dark eyes, his hair all curled up due to the steam coming from the water and filling the air. His own foot ran down your inner thigh, the sole of his foot ghosting over your pelvis.

There were too many reflective surfaces all over the bathroom.

Angles of him appeared everywhere. Specifically when he lifted your leg and placed a kiss to the upper arch of your foot.

“Shall I move to the other leg?” He asked, lowering your calf back in the water.

You nodded, trying to scoot your hips forward, against his heel.

“Feeling needy?” He asked, as his fingers repeated the procedure he had performed before on your other leg.

“So much.” You replied, using your freshly rejuvenated foot to tease his erection. His massage had activated nerve endings that had probably never really been there before he touched you.

“Let’s finish this leg then,” he said, as he kept pushing your ankle in wide circles.

“Tae,” you called, just as he moaned, your toes tickling his belly while the ball of your foot, way fleshier, teased his head.

“I never thought I could like this.” He said with a small surprised smile before he threw his head back, the cords of his neck tensing, the veins throbbing so clearly under the complicated game of shadows originated by the soft lights in the bathroom.

You loved his bathroom. It was soothing, with all the dark hues and the orangey lights.

His hands stopped for a second. “You’re distracting me.” He said.

“I wanted to treat you nice. For your birthday.” You replied. “I still can’t believe we went vanilla on your birthday night.” You said, still teasing him, hoping you could have him speaking in that soft, deep, dreamy voice he has whenever you’re getting him in the mood.

“It was good vanilla though.” He commented, his hips jerking forward with a small grunt before he felt his spine turn into putty.

“Very good vanilla.” You said, removing his leg from between yours, deciding to be generous and focus on him.

“Still, I owe you birthday sex.” You said, noticing his slow chuckle as you made him part his legs wide.

“Come here.” He said, removing the drain stopper with his fingers and bringing his hand between his legs as you bent your legs underneath your torso and crawled to him, straddling him and grinding your pelvis against his. “This is way better.” He purred, one of his hands keeping him upright while the other one landed on your ass. “You’re so soft.” He said, pushing his crotch up and against you. “I could just...” Once the water was low enough that his cock emerged freely from the surface, he put the drain stopper back in place, taking in your lustful expression as you ground on him.

“I think you’re the one who wants birthday sex.” Taehyung said, grabbing your hips and squishing the skin there.

His touch was always something that set you on fire. Ever since the first time, since your very first touch, he had completely possessed your entire being. Whenever his body connected with yours it felt like your skin and his were ready to part and like the raw extremities of a wound, and heal together, his blood vessels becoming yours, or maybe yours becoming his, until there was no distinction anymore. It was the exact opposite of that kind of surgery performed to separate conjoined twins.

And no surgery, no cutting was necessary. It was just. Preternatural. And so, so natural at the same time.

“Do you need me to stretch you?” He asked, his thumb massaging your clit.

One more bridge between you and him.

“I can take you. I’m so turned on.” You said, bending to kiss his neck and drink the small droplets of water glistening there.

“Was it the massage?” He asked, rolling his head back, offering you even more skin to kiss.

“I don’t know,” you said, licking him. Meanwhile you started noticing it wasn’t water, but rather your own slick making you slide on him.

Water was too unreliable, it would leave you dry and make the whole experience traumatic; especially, considering his size, both in length and girth.

“We can act like it’s your birthday.” He said, kissing a soft spot under your jaw. “Have an early birthday for my Nymphette.” He said, this time nibbling against the sweet spot on your neck.

You chuckled and brought your hands down his chest, scratching his stomach gently and playfully pinching the soft flesh of his belly. You loved him being so lithe and at the same time a bit fluffy in such an adorable spot. It made you think of childhood games, like blowing raspberries of his sensitive tummy. It always makes him so happy that his eyes spark up with pure, innocent joy, his mop of hair immediately coming for your neck and bosom, where he nuzzles in to tickle you before rubbing his face against your breasts like a cuddle some cat.

Once your face parted from his neck and chest, he cupped your face, holding you still. “I love you.” He said, staring in your eyes. And it felt so simple: no big statements, no poetic words, no useless rethorics. “I love you.” He repeated.

You mirrored his hold on you, placing both hands on his cheeks and rubbing your thumb against his divine features. “I love you.”

It holds more meaning than you could ever explain. The obliterating need in both your eyes and his, the urgency and the fondness. You felt like a pot boiling and overflowing with ten thousand ingredients that were a specific mix of his taste and your taste and his smell and yours and all the tastes and smells you’ve experienced together.

The candle burning in his room the first time you made love. His aftershave. Strawberries. Your shampoo, which became his shortly after you moved in. Champagne and that bubbly feeling of having butterflies in your stomach. French macaroons. The first breakfast in bed. The tteokbokki you had eaten with his parents the day he introduced you to them. The light, talk scent of Yeontan’s fur after the first time you bathed him together.

Now you were horny and emotional.

Taehyung seemed to notice. “Are you feeling okay, honey?” He asked, dragging his thumb against your lower lip.

“I just realised how important you are to me.” You said, bending to his face and kissing him.

“Just now?” He asked, slightly surprised as he raised an eyebrow.

“No,” you replied, closing your eyes and touching your face with his, feeling the slight stubble of his cheek against yours, brushing your noses together, focusing on the intense sensation of his face against such a personal, private part of your own body. “Sometimes I just… get lost in the feeling. It feels like being overwhelmed by all the things we share, all that we have together. How many things remind me of you.” You murmured against the tender spot behind his ear.

“I know.” He said. His hands moved to your waist, fingers sinking in the flesh as he invited you to sit up.

You followed his direction. Once he could look at you, all of you, he took his length in his hand. “Inside?” He asked, checking in on you.

You nodded. “Please. Inside.”

He closed his eyes and smiled, pulling you close to his chest once more with one arm wrapped around your waist.

With the hand on his cock, he rubbed his tip up and down your slit, making you moan a couple times, whimpering when you felt his soft tip breach your walls.

“Tae...” You whined, his lips meeting yours and trying to suffocate your lament.

“Hush, Lace,” he said, touching your spine. “Is it wet enough?” He said, pressing his mouth to your temple. “Take your time, love.”

You inhaled and lifted your hips up before sliding down again, one inch at a time, your muscles constricting around him so hard that you had to stop.

“Too tight,” he said, trying to lift you up slightly. “I don’t wanna hurt you.” He said as he kept kissing your face. “Let me stretch you first, love.”

“No.” You whined, your hands stopping his as he tried to slide out of you. “I want it like this. I can take it, just… Easy.” You said, begging. “Please.”

“If it hurts, we stop. Immediately.” He replied, still unsure.

You nodded eagerly and let your hips lower some more. “Kiss me?”

His eyes turned into warm, happy crescents as he obliged, moving his lips against yours. His hips inadvertently jerked upwards, forcing one more inch into you, making you gasp and offering him the perfect chance to let his tongue slide into your mouth.

The kiss was the sweetest poison, with playful flicks and demanding swipes, the tip of his tongue licking the underside of your own as yours arched up toward his palate. In the erotic frenzy of it all, you completely lost control of your legs and before you could notice, he was completely sheathed inside you as he kept sucking on your wet appendage, bobbing his head slightly as your tongue, fully stretched out, methodically appeared and disappeared past his lips. It felt right, your tongue penetrating his mouth as his sex penetrated yours. It felt balanced.

It didn’t take long before your hips started moving, riding him, making him moan and lose the suction he had on your appendage.

Parting from him was a mess of spit, both your eyes and his opening and staring at the silvery string connecting your lips to his. “You’re so hot.” You murmured as his hands landed on your hips, helping you, just as your brought your own palms to your chest, pressing your breasts together, massaging them as they rolled with the way you were simply moving back and forth, not really focusing on bouncing but rather sliding.

Taehyung was immediately captured by the sight of your breasts caught in your palms, his hands staying on your hips to help you while his mouth landed on your left nipple. You quickened your pace as his thumb met your clit, making you whine. “How close?” You asked, brow furrowing as he tugged at your nipple while suctioning it inside his mouth. You moved even faster in reply, gyrating your hips too as he grew more and more eager on your skin, until his teeth had created an indentation on your areola and your nipple was too sensitive to stay inside his mouth, subjected to the ruthless whipping and flicking of his tongue.

“Oh my god, Tae, please, I’m—” You couldn’t put a finger on what was making you so desperately horny, maybe it was simply because you were just out of your period and you had been starving for him for almost a week, but unexpectedly you felt yourself near your edge.

“Lace for fuck’s sake, we’ve just started.” He grunted as he recognised your kegels pulsating around him faster and tighter. “Already?”

You nodded.

“Damn. So hot.” He huffed out before pressing his mouth to your other nipple, giving up on sucking it and deciding to simply loll out his tongue and press it flat against your chest. “Come on, nymph. Cum on my cock.” He swore as he felt you get impossibly tighter. “Fuck it, Lace. Ride it.” He said, removing one hand from your hip before you heard a loud smack, followed by a prickling, burning sensation on your left glute.

The muscles of your ass and legs quivered as you stopped for a second, his thumb restless at the apex of your labia. “Did you—” You shivered as he hit the perfect spot, “Did you just spank me?” You asked, all your muscles tense.

He froze. “… did it… I’m sorry…” He said, confused.

“No, I liked it.” You corrected him. “I was toying with you.” You said with a small smile.

He knew sometimes you weren’t in the mood for spanks and power play. Sometimes you just wanted to be equals and simply get lost in pure, extreme sensations.

He shook his head, incredulous. “Then keep going, nymph.” He said, before surprising you with another spank.

You gasped and chuckled before cupping his jaw and joining your mouths, your hips moving carelessly.

This time he grabbed your ass viciously before slapping it one more time, his tongue being twice as lively as usual as he licked your own tongue, revelling in the velvet paradise of your mouth. Once he felt your hips grow impatient, your movements irregular, he parted from you, throwing his head back, eyes opening, his long lashes fluttering dreamily as he let his mouth hang open before silencing a moan by catching his lower lip between his teeth.

Finally you felt pleasure taking over your body, Taehyung’s eyes opening and focusing up.

He gestured at the ceiling with a jerk of his chin. Following his tip, your gaze turned up. And met the mirror.

In that moment you realised how furiously you were moving on top of him, how eager and desperate and sexy you looked.

“Look at you. So messy for my cock. My little nymph.” He said, smacking your ass once more.

A short whimper exited your mouth as the hit took the air from your lungs.

Your high exploded while his thumb teased the underside of your clit, unprotected by the hood and painfully sensitive by now.

For a second, everything felt too intense, your hair wet and dripping down your back, the water grown cold by now, and his skin so hot, his nipples hard under your thumbs, his hands moving to your breasts once you didn’t need him on your clit anymore, his palms sliding on your half-dry skin and pressing your boobs together before he dove his head forward, dragging his whole face against the soft crevasse that your tits formed together. He started ramming his hips up, fucking into you as your movements slowed down.

He loved suffocating between your breasts, gasping hard as your heartbeat drowned his ears, your breathing like a feral, powerful creature beckoning him toward your dark lair of consuming bliss.

Biting his lip, frowning and groaning repeatedly, he slammed his hips hard against the back of your thighs, four, five, six times before he stilled and screamed in pleasure, the dark granite of the walls amplifying his animalistic sound before he bit into your breast, almost painfully.

Too bad you were still lost somewhere in pleasure, his body finally joining yours.

Maybe you would complain about the bite in the morning, when it would be red and sore and maybe swollen.

“____, fuck. Can we have monthly appointments like this?” He said, gyrating his hips tentatively while you gripped the tub, trying to find purchase as your body betrayed you and collapsed almost entirely.

“Monthly birthdays...” You mused, mouth brushing against the column of his throat.

“Do we really need an occasion to fuck like this?” He asked while his hand kneaded the soft folds of flesh around your torso. He found endless pleasure in feeling every aspect of you under his fingers.

And it never made you feel conscious. Rather, it made you feel appreciated, not like he was avoiding your absolutely average and healthy body fat, but more like his fingers were appreciating every detail of you, singing a hymn to your whole body completely devoid of flaws, praising it in the unwavering, glorious materiality of it.

You felt worshipped.

The shiver that ran down your spine rose him from his blissful slumber. “You’re cold?” He asked, pressing you closer to himself.

You nodded and mouthed at his neck. “You feel too good inside, though.”

He chuckled. “It feels good inside you too.” He replied fondly. Sometimes you wondered how this cockwarming thing never made sense to you before you met him.

“But you need to dry your hair, love.” He patted your ass a couple times. “Don’t want you to get sick.” He said, “Plus, we’re going to be uncomfortable here.” He tried to raise his torso from his slumping. You helped him by sitting up yourself, his dick pulsating inside you and making your eyes roll back in pleasure.

He cackled. “Later.” He said his hands circling your waist and helping you up and off him.

As his cock slid out completely, landing on his belly, completely covered in your and his cum, you licked your lips.

“No.” He said, smirking, already placing his hands on your shoulders, keeping you from bending down and sucking him clean.

“Please, sir?” You whined, arching your brows and pouting.

He looked at your swollen, red lips, at your tongue lashing out to wet them seducingly.

He took his hands away. “Have your fun,” he conceded, his nails scraping your shoulders delicately as you bent forward, one of your hands catching your hair before it got messed up.

With your tongue you licked a thin stripe from the base of his cock all the way up to the tip before engulfing it in your mouth. You easily swallowed a good portion of him before pulling him out, nudging his shaft to the side with your nose and cleaning the messy marks on his belly and his pelvis where your mixed fluids on his flesh had imprinted the shape of his cock.

His moan was dark and sinful before he pleaded for a yellow.

You let him go without hesitation. “Are you okay, pup?” You asked, not even enjoying the mix of your and his taste in your mouth because of your sudden, urgent worry.

“Yeah. I just… I need a slowdown, please.” He said, touching your face weakly. “I’m getting cold.” He said, with soft eyes.

Your worry increased tenfold in your chest. First, you sat up and helped him up yourself. “Okay, Tae. Let me just rinse you, yes?” You called, removing the drain stopper and letting the water flow out before you cleaned up both you and him. The water from the tap ran warm — almost hot — a few seconds later and you managed to rinse him properly before he climbed out of the tub. You followed him and wrapped him up in a towel. “There you go, baby.” You said.

He smiled fondly. “Thank you.”

“Would you like me to dry your hair?” He asked, his beautiful hands balled up in cute fists as he held the large towel around his shoulders.

“No, baby, thank you.” You replied kindly and warmly. “Let me just rinse myself before I dry my hair. I’ll join you in bed in twenty.” You said as you noticed him linger close to the door, showing himself a bit too impatient and excited to head out, possibly to bed, with you by his side. Or on top of him. Or below him. Probably below him, considering you had just ridden him.

Caught in your head, you went back to the tub, rinsing yourself quickly and briskly before stepping out and drying yourself up gingerly, leaving your body slightly damp so that your body lotion would dilute a little with the sparse droplets left on your skin, so that it would absorb better.

Once your body smelled like roses from your breasts down, you rinsed your hands, applied your favourite hair care oil and started the hairdryer. It didn’t take long, fifteen minutes at large, before a rapping at the door interrupted your hair ritual.

You frowned. Taehyung wasn’t one to knock. Just to make sure, you lowered the setting of the hairdryer, waiting in case he did it again and making sure that you had heard correctly.

The sound reappeared.

You switched off the device and placed it in its drawer. “Yes?” You replied.

The door opened.

First, Taehyung’s face appeared, his hair ruffled and dry, his expression sweet and innocent. Was he wearing makeup?

No. Impossible.

He hadn’t actually washed his face yet, but he was definitely without makeup earlier.

His lashes looked longer. His lips redder. And he most definitely had enhanced those beautiful eyes of his with dark eyeshadow lining his upper eyelid, making his stare even more intense.

And was that a heart drawn on his cheekbone?

Indeed.

“May I?” He asked, suspiciously formal and courteous.

“Yes, of course.” You said, with a confused smile.

Next, everything made sense.

God bless him. You thought, your heart skipping a bit and stumbling down approximately sixty flights of stairs.

There, with a fancy silver tray and a fancier glass of red wine on top, stood your amazing, extravagant, glorious, mind blowing, seductive, sultry, indecently sexy, wondrous boyfriend. In a maid dress.

Your body did a strange thing, your mouth hanging open basically already drooling.

Was this how he felt anytime he saw you in lingerie?

“I thought my lady deserves special treatment.” He said, coming closer, placing the tray over the small counter near the sink.

The vinyl playing on the gramophone chose precisely that moment to come to an end.

The mechanic arm lifted and moved away, the plate slowly coming to a stop after all the spinning.

Not that you noticed, you were too busy staring at your boyfriend, imagining what you could possibly do to him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t assist you with your lotion, ma’am.” He said, standing, his hands joining before his stomach. “The uniform is a bit difficult.”

“Don’t worry, darling. All forgiven.” You said, your hand shaking as you reached out to touch his face. “You look incredible.” You said, completely dazzled. “Breathtaking.”

He blushed. “Thank you.” His eyes lowered coyly.

“Really, Taehyung. You look… I am speechless, darling.” You said with a big smile plastered on your face. “You’re unreal.” You said, drawing the shape of his lips, the pink lipgloss looking impossibly perfect on his face, emphasising the desirable curves of his mouth.

He stared in marvel too as you looked completely enraptured by his looks. “You like it?” He asked, insecure.

“Yes, of course I like it, love. You look too good, baby.” You reassured him, feeling a tad underdressed standing naked in front of him, while he had several layers of satin, ribbons, lace and of course, the classy apron. He even had puffy sleeves. And the corset tightened in a complicated lacing on the front. You took in every detail. “Do you feel good in it?” You asked, letting your index finger slide down his jaw, along the curve of his neck, to the small mole on his breastbone.

He nodded. “I’ve been tiptoeing around this for a while.” He said, his hand hesitant, his eyes asking for permission to place it atop of yours.

You agreed with a short nod.

“I didn’t know how you would react.” He said, his gaze guarded.

“I love it.” You said, tightening your hand around his fingers and rubbing his knuckles with your thumb. “And I love you.” You reassured him, pulling your joined hands to your face and placing a small kiss on his ring finger, where someday his wedding ring would lay. “Although we could do a few adjustments,” you said, staring at him with the eyes of a trained lingerie maker. “It could fit so much better on you.” You said, walking around him, observing the few points where the fabric slouched and flopped, unfit for his lithe body. On the back you noticed a zipper. You would remember that for later.

“Here,” you said, pinching the loose fabric around his slim waist. “And here.” You said, fingering the ribbons over his chest. “With slight modifications, we can make it more comfortable for you. And make it look like an actual uniform.” You said, standing behind him as he stood in front of the mirror. You bent to place a kiss on the crook of his neck. “How beautiful.” You said, your hands wrapping around his waist, appreciating how small it was, how elegant and expensive he looked. “Would you like it if I added a small accessory,” you asked, moving your middle finger to trace the column of his throat. “I was thinking about a choker.” You said, “something frilly. Maybe with a small kitten bell. Plenty of soft ribbons and lace. Make this neck look even prettier.” You suggested, placing another kiss on the other side of his neck, this time letting your mouth open and suck just a little.

You weren’t allowed to mark him there with all the upcoming music shows.

He nodded. “I’d love to.” He said, looking in your eyes timidly in the mirror. “But first I’d like to make myself forgiven for being late for the lotion.” He said, bowing his head. “Please, miss.”

Your head rolled back as pleasure travelled from his mouth to your ears to your core.

“Of course, kitty. As long as this is the way you want things to go.” You stated clearly. “I need your consent, kitty.”

“I want it, miss.” He assured you.

“Then proceed, kitty.” You said, wrapping your hand around his throat and tightening it affectionately.

He turned around and looked at your lips. “May I kiss you, miss?” He asked, eyes still deflecting your stare.

“Yes, kitty. Of course, darling.” You replied with a gentle smile.

He bent down slightly and swallowed nervously before placing his lips on yours, the taste was immediately familiar.

“This is not lipgloss, am I right, kitty?” You asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Yes, miss. You’re right, miss.”

Damn him. It was lube. Specifically, watermelon-flavoured lube.

You thought how long it would take for this to become too much. For him to become too hot and melt you until all there was left of you was a bottle of sap stored in the fridge.

And your title.

Your ears basked in victory at his perfect speaking manners. You had educated him properly. He was by far your best exercise in domination so far, his manners impeccable at all times when his submissive persona came into play.

“Come on, kitty. Show me how you intend to gain forgiveness.” You spoke sweetly, caressing the hair at his nape.

Soft. So soft. Always so damn soft.

He knelt. Slowly. Very slowly.

Looking up at you with pure, angelic eyes, he poked with his index finger first at your left thigh, and then at his left shoulder.

You grinned.

“You want my leg on your shoulder, kitty?” You asked with an amused smile.  

He nodded eagerly. “Yes, miss. Please, miss.”

You smiled proudly. “That’s a very good kitty.”

Taehyung kept a fond expression, saving his intentions to himself.

Let her think she won, he thought just as his hand landed at your ankle, his fingertips running up the back of your calf, your knee, your thigh, until he applied gentle pressure, inviting you to lift your leg.

Your cunt was right in front of his face, his nose sniffing at your smell, slightly adulterated by your body lotion.

He nuzzled his nose against the tiny patch of hair you kept atop your labia. He loved it without even knowing why. It simply turned him insane. All the time. Especially when he went down on you.

Your hand gripped the hair on the crown of his head, massaging the scalp delicately, but also trying to protect him from potentially bumping it against the drawer under the sink.

“Does it smell good, kitty?” You asked, smiling at him, taking in the view of him.

“Yes, miss. Can I please lick you, miss?” He asked shyly, his voice slightly more high pitched than usual.

“Yes, darling love.” You practically cooed at him.

He didn’t waste a second, his tongue ready to lunge for your opening before he stopped himself with a small gasp. “Thank you, miss.”

You felt even prouder.

God, he really is perfect.

“You’re welcome, kitty.”

And at that, the tip of his tongue brushed the tight rim of muscles lining your entrance, collecting your taste before flattening the muscle and dragging it all the way along your slit, delivering a series of hard flicks as his hands travelled to your ass, helping you ride his face straight away.

You enthusiastically followed his instructions, especially once you felt two of his fingers run from your backside to the front, sliding inside your dripping hole.

“Kitty, that’s very nice.” You said, huffing out an enthusiastic chuckle before it transformed into a sinful deep moan. You started directing his head, his tongue stretched taut past his lips while you ground your crotch against it. “Kitty, this is a very good surprise.” You said, praising him, petting his hair, your eyes closing as he moaned in approval, watching you as you grew more and more lost. You took the glass in your hand, taking a sip of wine and feeling it bloom in your mouth instantly, your cheeks warming up, your veins throbbing with the wild beat of desire awakening your every limb.

Your head rolled back, your hand immediately placing down the glass as you felt your high approach, his fingers sinking all the way to your cervix, tapping against it.

His lips captured your clit, sucking it a couple times before releasing it, pressing it to his front teeth with his strong tongue.

“Tae,” you called, too fucked out to care about pet names and stuff. Your edge was there, waiting for you, all you needed was…

He pulled out his fingers, making you cry out before they returned to their place. Shortly after, his thumb landed on your skin. Wet. Slippery. Right against the oversensitive skin between your cunt and your anus.

All it took was two gentle rubs and your body crumbled, all your weight going to the hand on the sink while your legs shook wildly, your knees too wobbly to survive your high; your other hand too moved to the sink, too scared of hurting your lover. His hands gripped you tighter instead, pushing you harder against his face while his tongue lashed out, the hard muscle grinding against your clit as he moved his head furiously in a nodding motion.

You weren’t sure you called his name or screamed or simply held your breath and stayed silent, your ears were completely out of order.

If it weren’t because of being on your feet, you would have thought you had passed out. Taehyung’s arm stayed tight around your waist while you removed your leg from his shoulder, trembling as you placed it down. “Holy hell.” You said, still gripping the sink for support. You looked at Taehyung. His whole face was covered in wetness, the heart on his cheekbone completely smeared, the only lube left on his mouth being the wetness coming from yourself. “You look amazing, Tae.” You complimented him. “A damn masterpiece.” You said, proud to your very core.

He grinned.

Kitty out. Tiger in.

“May I have some wine now?” He asked, no honorifics, no submission.

You grinned and bit your lip, wiggling your eyebrows.

He wiggles his right back.

Holding the glass, you took a large sip in your mouth, leaving a scarce finger in. You took a step back, bending at your waist and placing your mouth near Taehyung’s. He opened his mouth invitingly and you let a small amount dribble past your lips and fall into his mouth.

He patted his lips wider before stretching up surrounding your lips with his, making sure that not a drop got to waste.

Once he was sated, he placed a finger under your chin, moving it to your throat and wrapping his hand there.

“Now you’re gonna stand up and bend over, Lace.” He ordered, no trace of pliability in his demeanour, and no sign of mercy either.

You obeyed immediately.

“Hands on the sink. Keep them there.” You heard the sound of a zipper. Looking up you noticed that he was naked.

And that he was hard.

You licked your lips nervously.

“Lower your head.” He said, spanking you out of the blue.

So he was in a spanking mood. Mentally, you agreed.

“I know you want me like this. Uh?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, inhaling deeply as his fingers drew the line of your spine.

His finger stopped at the middle of your back, pressing on your spine to make it arch until it became almost painful.

“Stay.” He said, grabbing the silver platter and balancing it on your ass. The cold made you hiss, but you focused on staying perfectly still. “Stay.” He repeated, “I need to wash my hands.” He said, before abandoning the platter on your behind and coming to your side, standing right beside you as he washed slowly poured some soap on his palm, opening the tap and wetting his hands rubbing them together as he closed the tap with his elbow.

“It is always a pleasure to look at you like this.” He said, taking all the time in the world.

All you could see was his legs, midthigh down.

“You look like you don’t have a dominant bone in your body.” He mused, making sure that the thin foam reached between his fingers too. “You say ‘yes, sir’ and you sound like the single, most obedient, pliant creature in the world. Like you were made to please me.” He continued, looking at the platter tremble slightly.

He decided he could rinse his hands and dry them.

In half a minute he was standing behind you once more.

With your head hanging low, you felt the weight on your backside diminish imperceptibly. The platter disappeared next, landing on the counter.

Taehyung’s left hand laced with the hair on your nape, moving your rebellious locks aside. Now he had the whole expanse of your back before him, naked and richly arched.

Considering the situation, he cocked an eyebrow, clicking his tongue.

Something cold, like a blade pressed to your lower back, your spine arching even further.

“Stay still.” He said, bending to your ear. “If you move I’m gonna whip you.” He said minaciously.

He didn’t expect a reply, so you didn’t offer any. Cold liquid slid down the crevasse between your shoulder blades, sliding down the dip connecting your neck to your ass. Then something hot and soft appeared at the saddle of your back, where it reached the lowest spot. You put two and two together.

He was doing body shots down your spine.

You were sure when something that must have been his tongue slid all the way up to your nape. “Delicious.” He said, his hand placing down the empty glass on the counter, his erection pressing against your ass. “Let’s see if you can take it.” He murmured, standing straight and tugging at your hair until you were perched on your elbows, his reflection and yours appearing in the mirror in front of you. Which reflected the mirror behind you. Which allowed you to see Taehyung’s handsome figure.

He licked his lip and tipped his head back, looking at you cockily before gripping his hard on, rubbing the soft, velvety head against your labia, spreading your wetness before he let the tip sink in.

You moaned desperately. “Oh god.” You called, closing your eyes and looking away.

He gave a sharp tug at your hair. “Look how good you take my cock.” He said, staying perfectly still until he saw your eyes open through the reflection in the mirror.

“Please.” You begged weakly.

“What?” He asked.

“Please, sir. I’d like you to wreck me, sir.” You whined, pleading for his harsh ministrations, looking at him through the mirror.

He grinned and sunk all the way in.

You screamed.

He spanked you.

You took it with a tiny hiccup.

“Does my cock feel that good?” He asked, backing out.

“Yes, sir.” You replied meekly.

He slammed in again. “This is how you like it?” He asked sadistically, beginning to drive his hips into yours with a punishing pattern.

“Yes, sir. Please.”

“You’re such a slut for this cock.” He said, gritting his teeth, the veins at his neck bulging as his tendons flexed.

“I’m your slut, sir.” You said, ready to cry for him, completely shameless.

He grinned evilly. “Just for my cock. Such a horny fuckdoll.” He teased, delivering one more spank and making you arch your back, the tip of his cock hitting the most perfect spot, “drooling for my cock. Spitting in my mouth. Riding my face.” He rammed in even more furiously, your brow furrowing as you stared at the view of his back muscles flexing as he railed you, his glutes flashing as he hammered into you recklessly. “You’re such a dirty slut. You love being spanked, don’t you?” He asked, landing a loud smack on your other asscheek.

“I do, sir. Please, sir, please please… pl— I’m— Oh, sir.”

He went even harder, his middle finger reaching your clit and rubbing it as fast as he could. “Is this what you want? To cum on this cock? You want my fingers, little fuckdoll?” He asked deviously. “You’re such a pretty nymph. Living to get fucked.”

As you tried to turn toward him and lock your eyes with his, looking for reassurance, you spotted the side mirror, offering you the whole scene as it appeared on the right side. You ended up hypnotised by the motion of his cock sliding in and out too fast for your unfocused eyes to actually capture the whole vision.

Your high crested before you even felt it grow. It overthrew you, your arms failing you, your knees bending and your thighs pressing together.

Taehyung had none of it. His hand forcefully parted your legs again before landing a hard spank on your labia.

“Stay still and take my cock.” He said, angrily keeping his hand on your clit and rubbing it faster while he made you stand straighter, your tits appearing in the mirror in front of you, bouncing as he rammed violently into you.

The high didn’t stop. It grew even more.

He felt you milk him harder and harder. “Cum again, nymph. Cum on my cock again. Make it rain and wet the fucking floor.” He said, growling at your ear. “Look at those tits. So fucking good.” He growled, just as you shook your head in complete helplessness. “I’m gonna suck them like a baby before I fall asleep.” He said, gently slapping one until his strokes became irregular and even more ruthless.

You pushed your own hips hard against him until you finally felt that uncomfortable sensation leave your womb, eyes closing, shoulders collapsing, knees shaking and wobbling until they completely gave out, Taehyung’s body following yours and saving you from the tap as your torso landed against the sink, your legs spasming and leaving the floor as you screamed Taehyung’s name, his hand strumming your clit until you went completely silent and he heard you sob and pant. “Tae.” You called, voice thin before every sensation stopped.

You awoke to Taehyung’s hand touching your face.

“Lace, darling.” He called, “____, love.” He murmured against your ear.

First you realised your legs hurt. Like you had done too much exercise. Next, you realised he wasn’t inside you still. Some part of you felt cold.

“Tae.” You said, confused.

“Oh, baby.” He said, smiling his biggest boxy smile, touching your cheek again, dragging your hair off your eyes. “Are you okay, dove?” He asked, simply looking at you.

You nodded, confused. “I think I blacked out?” You said, trying to stand straight.

He was immediately close to you holding your hand and offering you his body as your support. “You did, love.” He confirmed. “Are you okay?” He asked again, just as you felt your foot land on a wet patch on the floor.

“Did I… ?” You asked, looking at the small puddle there.

“Yeah… ” He smiled sheepishly. “I have your blanket if you’d like.” He said, hugging you to himself.

You shook your head. “Shower?” You asked.

He nodded. “Let’s go.”

He opened the glass door and switched on the soft lights there, set them to the softest tone and helped you in, holding your hand as he used the other to open the tap and test the water for the right temperature. He grabbed your hair tie near the body wash and offered it to you.

“We’ll just rinse real quick, yeah?” He said, leading you under the spray and pouring a small amount of soap in his hands, foaming in up and rubbing it against your legs, before reaching your crotch. “I’ll go easy here,” he warned before his hand skimmed your skin, making sure that you weren’t dripping his seed anymore. Once he was done there, he rinsed his hands and poured some more body wash, repeating the procedure and removing any stain of wine from your back. Satisfied, he pulled you into his arms. “I love you so much, Lace.” He murmured in your ear. “You’re safe here, love.” He reassured you, protecting you. “You are beautiful and strong and sexy.” He said, healing any wound he had caused with his dirty talking, putting you together after pulling you apart. “You are worthy of affection, and respect and love.” He said, watching as you turned and tried to clean him up yourself, his messy eye makeup dribbling down his cheeks.

Once done with the shower, he wrapped you up in his bathrobe, a bit too big for you, making you feel hugged and extra-pampered.

He patted your head with one hand as he removed what was left of his mascara and eyeshadow. And then he placed an arm around you, back hugging you as you both brushed your teeth, his body clad in a towel before he swapped it for a pair of boxers and a sleeping shirt.

“Let’s put you into this.” He said, grabbing one of his robes from his sleeping clothes and wrapping you up in it, lacing your hands with his as you both reached the kitchen.

You stayed silent as he helped you sit on the counter, standing between your legs as he reached for a bottle of water and two glasses, stretching to reach your sleeping pills. He offered you a glass and got a pill ready, passing it to you once he managed to work it open. “There you go, love.”

You nodded and downed the pill, forcing yourself to finish the large cup of water, just as he downed his own, looking at you and making sure that you drank it all.

You placed the cup down and hugged him, waiting for him to finish.

He took your hand in his again, keeping you as close to him as possible as he brought the cups to the sink and led the two of you back to the bedroom.

You climbed the bed absentmindedly as he entered the closet, coming out with a rather large tiger plushie and a fluffy blanket with a polar bear print.

Crawling close to you, he waited for you to remove the robe and slide underneath the covers. Next he threw the blanket on top of your body, making sure that it stayed close to your face. After that, he placed the plushie in your arms, tucking the blanket tight. On his bedside table, he switched on the air purifier, the gentle scent of pine filling the room.

The lights went off.

His body came closer to yours and you cuddled in absentmindedly, his limbs tightening around your shape, warming you up immediately.

“I love you, Lace.” He said, again.

“I love you too,” you replied softly before a yawn.

“My pretty dove. Beautiful dove. My angel… My fairy… My joy… My peace...” And with a litany of sweet praises whispered in your ear, you fell asleep like a baby.

[carry-on-every-neverland-magic]

‘Come Out And Haunt Me’

Also on A03  for @aborddelimpala SamDean Celebration Week Day One: “Dad’s on a hunting trip and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

He felt guilty. As Baby purred along the brightly lit highways, ever closer to Stanford, Dean couldn't help feeling that for once, in a twisted way, fate was on his side.

Dean pushed the images of John in danger to the back of his mind. Deep down he knew Dad would be okay, he was too strong, too hard to break. Whatever the reason was for his absence, Dean was sure he was in control.

That's what he was telling himself to drown out the voice saying how happy he was he finally had a good reason to see Sam, after all this time. Not just super late, half drunk phone calls, where the real words he wanted to say never escaped Dean's lips, and Sam, patient but annoyed, just said,

“Dean I have to go. I uh...thanks for calling.”

And Dean would hear the long tone of the phone hung up, he'd cling to the receiver imagining Sam was still there.

“Hey man, I miss this, I miss talking.”

Dean would gulp and whisper the words aloud to the empty receiver.

“Me too Sam. I''m...I'm sorry, I wish I hadn't just let you go.”

Silence. In Dean's imagined scenario and in reality. Then imagined Sam's voice would croak,

“Miss you jerk.”

Dean's eyes watered, he didn't even remember pulling into this bay and picking up the phone. A quarter was still in the palm of his hand and the phone just had a low depressing hum coming from it.

He replaced the receiver with regret, forcing out a “Bitch”, to the quiet night.

AC/DC was cranked up full blast, Dean tapping the steering wheel. The only time he could truly escape was in the minutes of a song.

It freed his soul, getting lost in his rock and roll.

As he approached Stanford, his stomach felt like it was full of pins and with each swallow, more discomfort. He'd thought naively, that perhaps being near to Sam would help, his nerves would dissipate. But it was the opposite.

All he heard now was “Get lost, Dean.”

After 2 years the pain of that night hadn't really waned and sometimes, no, often, Dean wished that that had been the time he stood up to John and stood by Sam, followed his heart and not orders.

He pulled Baby into the side, switched her off and everything went quiet. No more escape.

It was fairly early, approaching 9pm, and students were bustling in and out of the building, most with carefree smiles on their faces since they were celebrating Halloween and Dean couldn't help but smile back at a few bloodied nurses and a particularly sexy werewolf in a shredded skirt.

He got cold feet, the ringing in his ears of rejection was too much and he hopped back into Baby and decided to kill some time at a nearby bar.

Dean fingered the rim of the glass for so long that by the time he took a sip, the whisky was warm. He had no idea how long he'd sat there until he glanced at the clock and it was almost midnight. A pang hit his chest. If he couldn't do it tonight, he never would.

He felt Sam slipping further away from him with every month that passed, every phone call that he never made or the few that were just going through the motions, though Dean often missed that there was an ache in Sam's voice that would surface when a memory of Dean came back, like holding him in the back of the impala when their Dad was angry or Dean making him laugh when he was bored waiting around in the 100th motel room that year.

But Dean missed these moments that Sam broke because he hated himself for letting him walk out that door so all he heard was blunt goodbyes and I have to go.

A few stragglers were hanging about when Dean arrived back and this time he pushed himself forward into the building after leaving Baby in the parking lot nearby.

He tried to keep his mind blank and at first it worked. A step at a time, a floor at a time, a door at a time. Until he reached Sam's dorm. He thought he heard faint laughter from inside. Sam was still up and it sounded like whoever he was with, they were having fun watching a corny horror movie together.

Dean glanced at his watch. 12:15am

The amulet glinted in the light of the corridor and it caught Dean's eye.

He grasped it gently in his hand, then let it go.

He pressed himself against the wall and closed his eyes. Flashes of Sam came to him. Long rides in Baby, scary times they were left alone and Dean guarded the door with a shotgun, putting on a brave face for Sammy, rare times they got to relax, just them and a bad movie and expired candy from the vending machine. Sat on the sofa they'd voice over the movie, make fun of it and laugh and for an hour or two they forgot monsters existed. It was just them. Seeing Sammy smile had always meant more to Dean than his own.

Dean inhaled deeply, opened his eyes and slid to the floor. A student passed by and barely took notice of him. Head in his hands, Dean struggled to think what he would say. . Dean sighed, why would Sam help him? He didn't stick up for him when he left and his stupid stupid phone calls, always after he had drunk too much...no wonder Sam never called him. Dean hoped that Sam knew he wasn't just following Dad's orders and being a good soldier. He'd follow Sam into Hell if he had to whether he was told to or not.

Sam, at that moment, thought of when he had slammed the door behind, wishing and praying that Dean would have followed him. He gulped and Jess looked at him softly.

“You okay?” “Yeah”, he smiled back.. “Just tired. Let's get some sleep huh?”

Jess nodded as he kissed her gently and they slowly rose to get ready for bed. He had no clue that Dean was sat just outside but the Winchesters always did have a kind of unfathomable connection.

The words clawed inside Dean's heart. Why couldn't he just say it? I need you man, I want my brother back.

Yes of course he was here for Dad too but this...he'd waited for this day for two years, a real excuse to come and get Sam.

It was like the good kind of possessed (if there is such a thing) Those times where you go on auto pilot, your body and surroundings don't feel real and the thing you were putting off you just do it, because it's not really you at that moment.

He just knew he couldn't take the option of knocking on the door and Sam telling him to get lost, a quiet heartbreak. No he had to go in all guns blazing. Drown out rejection with chaos.

Dean didn't remember when he chose to make a move, when he went to open the window nor did he feel like it was his feet walking around the dorm. The scuffle even was a blur.

But as soon as he heard, “Dean?” and was looking down at Sammy, the face he hadn't seen in 2 years, Dean felt heavy and present again, his hand on Sam's, this was real, there he is.

…...........................................................................................................................................................

 “Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days.” Stay with me, Dean thought, I can't lose you, I'm begging you man, you're all I have, I want us to be together again, I miss you so much.

And Dean had flashed his trademark smile, though his heart hammered as he waited for Sam's response.

And Sam, despite the situation and concern over their Dad, had never felt happier to see Dean. Nothing compared. Not the moment when he beamed at him Christmas Day or seeing how much he loved the amulet, not when they had actually got to splash around in some motel pool for the entire day, not a care in the world, not when they pretended to be Ozzy Osbourne and put on a concert in some dingy motel living room, not when Dean had stayed by his side all night and calmly stroked his hair until he fell asleep and not even when he and Dean had taken Baby and driven to some out back town, played pool into the early hours and happy and giddy, returned to her, their home, and slept in the backseats, a smile on their faces after one of the best nights in a long time. No, not any of those memories could compare to this.

Sam realised, with how light his chest suddenly felt, how much he had missed his brother and that this night could turn out to be the best of his life. He couldn't see it being beaten.

But he didn't betray this on his face or in his words, he just silently thought, He came back. You came back.

And it was the bravest thing Dean had ever done for him.

[spaceasianmillennial]

Part 1: Home

Summary: Trevor making his way back to the castle after defeating Death.

This is what it was, a shockwave, and then the sun pouring from the cracking skull.

I’ve done it. And so I give the world to Alucard and Sypha. 

And he was hurling through the multicolored cavern as if worlds whirled and orbited around him. This was his ascendancy, he figured, this was the multi-windowed passage toward the end, those countless levels of Hell his aunt told him about. He’ll see them all again, his father, mother, siblings if God wasn’t fucking around. What a story he'll bring to them.

But then his jaw was slammed rudely into the dirt. He lifted his head to breathe and cough out the grass blades and pebbles. A few seconds later, he squinted. Perhaps he was hurled into a circle Hell after all, perhaps taking down the Evil wasn’t enough to God. If he had the energy, he would have chuckled at the idea that God decided not to throw him in Hell.

When the haze faded and the numbness faded, he suddenly fathomed the sound of water. 

God must have flung me into the wrong Corridor. There was a sun, one that was clearly rising. It looked too nice, too serene.

Only then when he dragged himself to the water to dunk his red-welted arm and drink like a hungry beast and splash it onto his cuts and bruises did he suppose he was brought back to Earth. The spires were nowhere to be seen. This was not familiar territory. He looked for Sypha, for Alucard, but then remembering their two small shapes, the dark of Alucard’s cloak and blue of Sypha’s robes, outrunning the collapse of the bridge.

His family trained him to heal the overexerted body after the battle. Rest was important, reusing muscles in the intervals of rest was key. He turned himself over and laid on his back and let himself watch the clouds on the oranged dawn sky. How long did he hurl through the Corridor? It felt like a second and eons. It was night when he slayed Death--slayed Death, what a story for Belmont generations, he hoped to have landed in the corridor with then.

And so he was alone again.

He drifted off and awoke to blinding sunlight. He was still there. This was not a dream. After letting a few clouds pass his eyes, there was nothing to do but lug himself up and stagger forward. He looked at the direction of the river. He did not know this river but there’ll always be towns near rivers. So he followed it upstream.

When night fell, he was sleeping under trees again to settle his bones. In the mornings, he skimmed the grounds for trail mixes and non-toxic mushrooms and bushes for edible berries, thanks to old Speaker lessons, a blending of Belmont teachings derived from their recorded conversations with Speakers (Belmonts could document, Speakers could not), and a bit of the additional knowledge Sypha gave him.

What was that village again? Alucard was with a village headwoman. Perhaps it should have helped to ask before they had to run off to deal with the matter of the madman and the Rebis.

The river trails did lead him to empty villages, with burial grounds and hollowed huts and cabins. It took some deduction and a map he salvaged along with a black cloak to shield him from the hot sun. He did not stay on the path but kept it in sight as he walked through the secluded trees. If there were highwaymen or that damn “pirate of the road,” he didn’t have the energy to really deal with them. The thrill would be nice though.

From the map, he surmised that Danesti was that nearest village to the castle. He vaguely recalled it being nearly a stop when he set off on the road with Sypha. 

--

When he made it to Danesti, there were lumps of burial grounds and a ravaged fortress. But at least there were a few souls, loading wagons, perhaps moving to leave behind the memory of carnage and some that lingered near the burial grounds on their knees, paying their respects.

Trevor found another useful thing. Or it found him. A sturdy black horse with a white diamond on the forehead that nuzzled him when he entered the scratched open gates. It had a steady saddle and pouches. 

No soul around seemed to be interested in it. The horse probably lost its owner. Better not waste a ride. He summoned his strength and threw himself on, the aches rippled through this body, from head to toe, but it was worth it to not move his achy legs even if the road bumps popped waves of back spams.

He so looked forward to a bed, that bed in Dracula’s castle that he stayed in before he went off to adventure with Sypha. He and Sypha slept in different rooms then.

Sypha. He hadn’t talked about it with her. He had seen Belmont women spout curses at their husbands before they would ask God for forgiveness. It was probably a lucky guess the moment Sypha starting screaming curses, but he also noticed she refused her monthly rags and the smell of cooking meat irritated her--“Get that fucking frying pig away from me, Trevor.” It suddenly occurred to his brain that they weren’t as careful on that Lindenfeld bed. Damn it. He always took precautions with any one-night stand he was with. He had no interested in progeny, especially not ones hidden from his knowledge, for this was not a world for new Belmonts. For him and Sypha, an extra mouth to feed was just not in the cards. 

But now, it seemed that the possibility was closer. Death was defeated. 

He had to know if they would live through it all. Sypha probably knew it already of course, before he did. She would figure that out before it did. It was best if Sypha simply confirmed with him before they could have that conversation, if they could rejoin her caravan (Speakers had childbirth knowledge and ways to expel pregnancies) or lay low at the castle (Alucard ought to have knowledge as well). 

Sypha should have been the one to tell him. But he understood if Sypha wanted to murder him for not bringing up. 

He had to know they if would finish Targoviste, although god knows fuck what happened now that they had to abandon it. Every time they moved from troubled town to troubled village to follow the next reported human sacrifice, Sypha would mutter, "We cleared out the night creatures and vampires for them, but we have to trust the people now to save themselves the best they can."

If they had time in that castle... But of course, facing the slews of night creatures and then Death, it was his last and only chance to acknowledge his suspicion to her, regretting the conversation they’ll never have. She knew how to take care of herself and other people, so he had to bring peace to her mind to let her know that he knew--suspected--of something growing and existing within her and that he had faith that it would grow into something wonderful.

Now unless God was fucking with him and threw him into limbo, he’ll ought to find her. The Castle was the natural first stop, at least to talk to Alucard. But it had been, what, a few weeks? He surmised that it was enough time that she would be venturing to her caravan.

--

“Trevor, if you die, I’ll return to my caravan where I would mourn for you, my rude idiot. And I’ll give them every story, our victories and your idiocy.”

"Haha. Also, I'm not going to die."

“If I die, join my caravan. Gain knowledge, exchange it. You don’t have to have the Speaker robes or the mantle. But you won’t be lonely and you’ll be around my family.”

That was the backup plan. She discussed this under the blanket, her cool bare skin against his torso. 

“And what if I rather be alone than with Speakers?“

Her answer surprised him. “Go home, to the Belmont Hold. And you can be lonely there then.”

“Are you forgetting who occupies the Hold?“

“Exactly. You two can be alone together.”

--

She was being generous to make a plan for him. But truth to be told, he would have been happier to wander alone again. At least that's what he told himself. He realized, if Sypha was gone, if her bare flesh wasn't against his right now, if God decided to snatch her from him, he thought about what he would do. She wasn’t wrong. He realized he would have been drawn home to curl up in that tree, and this possibility would also come with seeing Alucard again to break the news.

The spires. The castle.

He could see the spires of the castle now. Alucard that asshole better have that soft bed ready. And with luck, Sypha would be still there or he’ll have to rest to find her.

She probably left. 

As he rode closer to the castle, Trevor could hear people, wagons, horses clopping, and the sawing of wood and clinking of hammers. How long has it been again? Perhaps the refugees were still here, practicing caution in case the demons came back for their village.

Feet scurried close. He was quite ready to fall now. Quite ready to let the Earth be his mattress. The horse came to a halt. He could let the generosity of humans do the rest from here.

The aches yanked him down, two gentle hands graced his back, softening the blow. He squinted as the hood fell and the sunlight poured. He recognized the feel of those small hands as one feels when putting on old clothes.

It was just his luck. There were her big blue eyes, and he was more lost in those seas than he ever was in what his aunt called the “countless levels into Hell.”

“Hello Love.”

--

Next up: Sypha’s angst during those two weeks.

--> PART 2

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[btsslowburnfic]

Chthonic Love 22

Series Summary: A Greek Mythology AU featuring Yoongi/Suga as Hades and reader as Persephone. Olympian ruler Namjoon has delivered you, Persephone, as a gift for his brother, lord of Death, Yoongi

Chapter Summary: You and Yoongi find each other in Inferno

Previous chapter here

Yoongi gingerly stood up in the boat, monitoring the rocking. “It’s been what, a few hundred years?” He said smugly as he gazed across the icy dead-filled sea. He smirked at the arch-demon, Lucifer.

 Lucifer completely stopped beating his huge leathery, causing the Cocytus Sea to fall still. His form was that of a giant Beast; the head of a dragon and the body of a griffin. His lower half was encased in an icy miasma. His taloned arms flailed and clawed at the ice, trying to drag his lower half out of the sea. “Almost a thousand. Let me out!” He roared in Anger, venom dripping from his mouth.

 Yoongi stood there, he didn’t have time for this. Acting bored, he sighed. “No. I don’t think I will. Did another living being pass through here?” He attempted to remain calm.

 Lucifer laughed, a deep and terrible sound.  “And if someone did? Why would I tell you? You and your brother put me here to torture me.” He struggled once more, “Release Me!”

 “My brother and I put you there because you fought for the Titans.” Yoongi paused; remembering the end of the Titan wars, he shuddered.  “You have at least another millennia of penance.”

 The dragon snarled, assessing Yoongi with his golden eyes. “Who can say the girl is still alive? Perhaps she succumbed to the wailing souls and slipped into the sea.”

 Yoongi felt nauseous at the thought, and yet he knew in his heat you were still alive. He snorted in disgust at Lucifer and angrily sat down, grabbing the oars. "Then it would seem we have nothing to discuss.”

 “Wait! Wait! Let me out!!!” Lucifer continued to claw at the ice. “If you release me I’ll help find that Goddess. She’s probably in the middle of the Inferno right now. You won’t be able to reach her in time.”

 Yoongi bit his lip wondering what his chances were. Wondering what your chances were.  Lucifer was responsible for keeping the souls in Cocytus. Was there someone else who could do it? He cursed in irritation that he had to make this decision. Why did he tell you to leave? Fuck. Lucifer has tortured thousands of mortals when he was free. He had ripped apart lesser gods and goddesses.

 Yoongi sighed, “No.” He said decisively. “I’ll see you in another thousand years.” He started to row further East, feeling the temperature increase almost immediately.

 “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” He heard the dragon roar, but it was too late. He knew you wouldn’t approve of releasing a monster, even if it meant saving you. And he hated it. Because for you, he would have done it.

--------

Beyond the Cocytus Sea lies something far more treacherous. Beyond the wailing souls and the icy waves, you will find the Inferno. Saved for the souls of tyrants, the fire is so hot that at first it feels cold. The caldera of Magma is fed through channels that run deep through the Underworld. Flames rise up through poisonous geysers , threatening to suffocate anyone who breathes the air. 

 It would seem this chapter in the Compendium had not been an exaggeration. You had dipped your cloak in the water of Cocytus when you saw that you were approaching the lake of fire. You wrapped the damp fabric around yourself and began to say your prayers to Athena. Silent tears fell down your face. Would the boat catch on fire? You had no way of knowing. You tried in vain to paddle against the wind, but the Cocytus breeze was unrelenting; the pull of the Inferno unyielding. You took a deep breath as the boat quietly slipped from the seawater into the lava. You waited for the boat to melt; for the wood to catch fire. It did not.

 You looked around. The sky was pitch black. The surface of the Lake was molten lava. And it was so very hot.  In the distance you could make out the silhouette of rock features, geysers rising and spewing noxious fumes into the air. You laid down on the bottom of the boat. It had gotten you through Cocytus, maybe you could float through Inferno. 

 Time passed by slowly as you felt the boat rock gently. You recounted your youth, playing with Hoseok, your mother braiding your hair, helping mortals with their gardens. Really, you had lived a good life. You hadn’t planned on coming to the Underworld. But you were happy you did. Other than today. Even then, this morning had been great. You breathed shakily as you remembered resting your back against Yoongi’s chest; his fingers exploring your body. You really thought you had a future with the Lord of the Underworld. You hadn’t thought your future was to die down here. At least not for several thousand years. They say for mortals their life flashes before their eyes before they die. Was this the same thing? The tears evaporated off your face almost as soon as they fell. Your lips began to feel exceedingly dry; unable to keep saliva in your mouth anymore. It was so hot.

 To your surprise, you felt the boat suddenly and decisively change direction. Your eyes went wide as you sat up and saw a cave entrance, carved into a sheer rock wall. The mouth of the cave was dripping with magma, looking like the jaws of a fiery beast. In your heart you knew that all that lay on the other side of this entrance was nothingness. This was the end. No. Nonononono. You started trying to row against the pull. 

 Yoongi sailed through the rest of Cocytus easily, his powers regenerated when he paused for his chat with Lucifer. Once he entered Inferno though, the magma pushed against the boat trying to keep him out. He scanned the horizon in annoyance. What good was being the Lord of the Underworld when everything down here attempted to defy him? Annoyed, he removed his shirt and prepared to shift. He had little use for his true immortal form. The monsters that lurked in the Underworld for enough. He much preferred the comfortable form of a human. He winced in pain as he allowed the skin on his back and shoulders to rip apart. 

 “Ahhhh….” He cried out. It had been hundreds of years since he used his wings. The last time was in a contest with Jungkook. He had lost and swore off ever using the useless things ever again. The midnight black appendages unfolded, flanking his back. He stood up and flapped them several times. Just like riding a horse, he reassured himself. He took a deep breath and leapt up, allowing his wings to beat down against the air. He slowly became airborne. 

 Where were you? He flew up higher, attempting to study the flow of the magma. He saw you finally. The small boat was a few meters from the Nihil Cave. No. Anything that went into that cave became nothing. No Elysium. No Underworld. Just nothing. He swooped down, too fast too fast.

 You turned your attention from the cave mouth behind you where you had heard a whooshing sound, followed by a splash.  What? Your surprise turned to horror as you saw Yoongi pop up on the surface of the magma.

 “Yoongi!?!” You cried, as best you could with your parched throat, trying to row over towards him.

 Yoongi resisted the urge to gasp for air, keeping his mouth tightly shut. He was immortal, but he felt pain. He imagined magma down the throat would be extremely painful. He felt his skin start to burn.

 “Oh my God.” You cried, seeing Yoongi’s skin melt off, revealing red and black underneath.  Your eyes stung with tears. “I’m coming.” You said, but the oars wouldn’t budge. 

 Yoongi’s eyes widened with fear as he watched you throw the cloak to the bottom of the boat and look at him. “Persephone. No. No.” He started to swim frantically towards the boat.

 You jumped in. The Compendium was right. It was cold for a split second before you felt the fire erupt around you. Fuck this was a bad idea. You swam up towards the top of the caldera. You looked around frantically when you finally surfaced. Yoongi, Yoongi, fuck this hurt. Ouch.

 You felt something pull on your shoulders.  “Hold on,” you heard Yoongi say gruffly. You barely had time to comprehend before you felt yourself being plucked out of the magma and soon flying over it. You didn’t have time to register being dropped unceremoniously into the row boat you could only assume was Yoongi’s. 

 Yoongi plopped down in front of you, breathing heavily. His wings were tattered and his human skin sloughing off his body. In their place was a mix of red and black seared flesh. He had such beautiful skin, and now it looked like burnt meat. Your eyes filled with tears not for the pain that was traveling through your own body, but for what he must be feeling.

 You looked around. This vessel was between Cocytus and Inferno. You looked back over at Yoongi. "Yoongi,” you cried out. You wanted to embrace him but you weren’t sure with the condition he was in. “I can fix this. I can fix this.” You said, more to yourself than him.

 “Just leave it,” he yelled. He fell to his knees, exhausted. The injured wings folded in and he took a deep breath, willing the boat to change directions. The boat slowly turned back towards Cocytus.

 “Yoongi,” You slowly extended your hands towards his, trying desperately to start healing him.

 “LUCIFER,” You heard Yoongi bellow. “Helps us cross and I’ll take 200 years off your sentence.”

 The wind died down. You peered through the mist.  Was that a dragon? You were so confused. The creature began to cackle.

 “Not looking so smug now are we Yoongi?” The dragon tapped it’s claws against the ice block surrounding it’s torso. 

 “That’s Lord Yoongi you ungrateful bastard, now take the deal or don’t,” Yoongi cried, clutching his side in agony.

 “Make it 500 years.” The dragon snapped.

 Yoongi tried to stay standing, but his one leg gave out underneath him, causing him to kneel. 

 Lucifer bellowed. “The Lord of the Underworld kneels before me. Ahahaha. You should have accepted my help when I offered it to you.”

 Fuck. You stood up, trying hard to not rock the boat. “250 year or nothing. Now help us sail back to the Stygian Sea. Now.” 

 Lucifer laughed, “Do you give this woman the authority to speak for you, Lord Yoongi?”

 “I do,” he gritted out.

 “Very well, it is done.” He inhaled and blew his icy breath, causing the boat to abruptly change it’s speed and direction, towards the Stygian sea. Yoongi collapsed onto the bottom of the boat.   

 “Yoongi, Oh no.” You knelt down next to him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have waited and left with Hoseok. 

 "Shut up. I was an idiot." Yoongi coughed. “I shouldn’t have told you to leave.”

 “It’s fine. All I do is hurt people. I’ll go. It’s fine. Let me fix this.” Your body wracked with sobs as you placed your hands onto his chest.

 The boast slipped back into the Stygian Sea. Sensing Yoongi’s dominion, the sea gently began to push the boat back towards the estuary. 

 "I'm so sorry," you sobbed. "Holly, help me," you asked as the boat approached the gates. Holly whimpered and very gently used one of his mouths to pick up Yoongi and place him gently on the black sand. 

 You clamored out of the vessel and threw yourself down next to him. You conjured as much energy as you could. You were used to healing flowers and plants, not people; not Olympians. "Please Yoongi. I'm so sorry. Please." you placed your hands on his arm and chest where the fire had burned him. 

 His skin slowly started to return, a pale patchwork at first and then a whole canvas. You continued, feeling some of his energy mixing with yours. He was coming back. He would be ok. Energy flowed out of you, a purple glow emanated into his chest and arm. Purple leaves and vines spread out over his pale skin. In exchange, flame snapped at the energy, sending a burning sensation up into your hand. 

 "Ow," you cried out as more tears fell involuntarily. 

 Yoongi tried to push your hands off him. "If it hurts stop," he coughed. 

 "No. I love you. I have to fix this." You pushed your hands down even harder against his protests ,the flames growing up your arms. "I can fix this." you whispered more to yourself than him. You don't know how long you stayed that way, the pain changing from sharp shooting pain to a dull throb. Before long you were exhausted, the energy barely glowing. The last thing you saw before you blacked out was a pattern of purple and clack chrysanthemums on Yoongi's chest. @sugas-bbygirl  @twilight-loveer

[missjaystone]

What’s up, Doc?

This is my submission for darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ ‘Watching-Stalker AU Challenge’ (And yes, after asking initially from an entirely new account before posting on a secondary blog, I’m too embarrassed to tag Roo again.)

Prompt 11: Everyone knows about celebrity stalkers, but what happens when a celebrity is the stalker? Kinks: Forced Pregnancy/Breeding, A/B/O

Word Count: 3000

Relationship: Dark!Steve x Fem!Reader x Dark!Bucky Trigger Warnings: nonconsensual/dubious consent, forced pregnancy/breeding, A/B/O dynamics, abuse of power(?). PLEASE DONT READ IF THESE OFFEND YOU (PS Everyone: I’m sorry to redirect everyone to another blog but I’m too nervous about having 'missjaywrites’ as only a secondary blog. The first blog post on miss_jay_stone with stay but that blog is officially abandoned. Henceforth everything will be posted here.)

Being a doctor meant stressful moments, being a military doctor meant stressful days, weeks, months, or years. However, being a doctor specifically for the Avengers was an entirely new level of pressure. Being the person to patch up or perform surgery on literal superheroes made you miss working in the middle of warzones. You knew one wrong move could quickly spiral into a major issue, but you knew this when you took the job.

The choice itself wasn’t easy, there were more than enough reasons for you to respectfully decline, reasons like; despite being as accomplished as you were, you were still fairly young, the pressure was enough to age someone half a century, there were about a dozen security measures in place to make sure you said nothing to anyone, numerous contracts and NDAs to sign, and possibly the biggest reason to say ‘no’ was what you really were. An omega. You could very well be arrested because of how many official government forms you’d falsified and signed stating you were a Beta. You did what you had to do to accomplish your goals and it landed you in the medbay of the Avengers compound, often in close contact with the numerous Alphas on the team.

In your opinion, you were pretty physically average and never thought of yourself as someone that turned heads. That was more than fine by you, the less attention you had on you the better. Recently, though, you felt something subtle change, you always felt like somebody was looking at you, even if nobody else was around. The constant feeling and incessant nagging in the back of your mind sent a chill up your spine daily. There were some days where you found yourself feeling something like an internal tug towards whatever alpha was close by and now more often than not, the closest alpha was one of the two blue-eyes super soldiers. If you had listened to the alarm bells in your head, you would have left your job the moment you felt something strange.

You would’ve moved to Calgary or Portland or Dallas, but you brushed it off as silliness and an overactive imagination. And because of that, here you were, stuck in a web of your own design, your protruding stomach a reminder of the mistakes that led to this situation. Of course, you’d love them when they arrived but that wouldn’t lessen the naivete you felt for falling into their game. Their words forever holding your heart and soul firmly in a vice grip. “C’mon, doll, you can be our good little ‘mega and get everything you could ever want” “We can keep your secrets safe, we’ll make sure nothing bad can ever happen to you.” The words seem to play on repeat in your mind. You can pinpoint the exact moment a small mistake led to where you were now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 8 Months Prior~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow, where are you going all dolled up like that?” Your colleague and friend Alex asked as you stepped out of the storage room with a bundle of clothes in your hand. He paused typing his report to watch you gather your things. “I’m going to a 50s themed party with a guy I’ve been seeing and he’ll be here to get me soon,” you answered, motioning to the very-50s inspired outfit you wore. “Lucky you, kid, knock him dead but use protection,” he called with a chuckle as you left towards the elevator. You rolled your eyes at his comment but got a chuckle out of it yourself. He loved acting like he had 25 years on you instead of 10. The entire elevator ride down you were checking to make sure everything was perfect and not a hair was out of place.

You didn’t even look up when you stepped out of the elevator into the lobby. You did however look up, when you collided with a firm body. Your apologies were stopped by two things; the feel of cold metal on your back thru the thin fabric of your top and the strong scent, familiar scent of cedar & sandalwood and sage & pine. “I’m so sorry about that Captain Rogers, Sargent Barnes; that was totally my fault for not looking and I’m incredibly sorry to have almost steamrolled you,” you rambled awkwardly as you hurriedly tried to step back and put space between you and them. It took several long moments before Bucky removed his hand from your back, putting both in his pockets.

“Don’t worry about it, accidents happen,” Steve said with a smile that just didn’t seem quite right. There was an uncomfortable couple of seconds where you felt their eyes raking over you and you would’ve sworn their pupils dilated. “You know, it’s funny, you look like you’re straight out of a magazine from the 40s,” Steve said with a chuckle to break the silence. “Thank you, sir, I have a date at a themed party and this is the theme,” you sheepishly replied. The blond cleared his throat to cover what almost sounded like a growl at the name ‘sir’ and his features momentarily hardened when you mentioned it was a date. His smile was quick to return “well we don’t want to hold you up, enjoy your weekend, Doc and we’ll see you around.” You politely thanked him and returned the pleasantry before stepping passed them to leave. If only you had looked back, you would’ve seen them begin an intense, hushed conversation before they disappeared into the elevator.

That little conversation seemed to be when all of this started, but it was only little things that never drew much thought. At least, it started small; things on your desk would be moved, lights would be left on when you showed up the next day, your door would be unlocked, just little things that you couldn’t definitively say you did or didn’t do and the feeling of surveillance being minute and random. Then it got bigger; clothes you’d left at the office would disappear like jackets you kept in case you got cold or a spare change of clothes if what you wore got messed up, and papers you were sure you’d put away would be scattered on your desk but the feeling of being watched was more often, and one or both of them often came around for seemingly any reason. Like when Sam came in to get stitches after a mission, Bucky stood to the side almost brooding when you only mildly acknowledged him to tend to his friend.

Then alarms started to go off in your head but you ignored it. They were celebrities, they were superheroes. There’s no way on Earth they’d give you more than a second though. Your internal alarms kept going off; you never felt alone anymore, even in your own home. Your cozy little home that you’d fallen in love with always felt like somebody else was there or had been there. You often felt like your skin was burning, especially when they were around which was now multiple times a day, you always seemed to run into them. Bucky was normally quiet when you crossed paths, always asking if you felt okay and commenting on your flushed and flustered appearance, taking two steps forward for every step you took away from him. Steve seemed to be more physical whenever you two met around the building, he’d pull you into a friendly hug before you could object and make conversation with you, often brushing hands with you or setting his hand on the small of your back.

It went on like that for two months and you’d never been more thankful for fall to turn to winter, the cold breeze helping to sate your increasingly uncomfortable temperature. You thought everything had passed when you started to feel more normal and they stopped coming around you as often.

One night you decided to stay late to get some reports finished, submitted, and filed properly. It was perfectly fine for a while but then you felt yourself heating up again. Even after removing your scrubs and changing into some clothes you stored here, you were still burning. Soon you were fidgeting in your seat, trying to find some way to quell whatever what happening with you. You ended up nearly running to the bathroom to splash cool water on your face and get something to drink but you should have just gone home.

When you took two steps back into your lab, you were immediately pulling back against someone’s broad chest with superhuman strength. On instant contact, a familiar and unnerving scent surrounded you; cedar and sandalwood. It was Bucky hold your back flush against his chest. Panic set in seconds later when you felt him pressed into your lower back, the size alone was enough to take you out of your paralyzingly-afraid state. But it wasn’t like that helped any; you were an average human and he was a Super Soldier, it took no effort to keep you in his grasp. All he had to do to keep you in line was move one hand around your throat and growl quietly in your ear.

“Easy, doll, if you move too much he may have to hurt you and that's the last thing we want,” a calm voice said, the tone almost soothing. Steve stepped into sight from where he’d been looking at some things on your shelf. “I know you’re probably a little confused but we’ve been keeping an eye out for you. Keeping creeps away at bars, making sure your train ride home goes without incident, taking care of the men you go on dates with. You’ve quite the active social life doll,” his voice was tender as he approached you, gently stroking your cheek.  By now your eyes were wide with bewilderment as your brain attempted to process this situation. “We want you to be our good little Omega, start a family with you, and give you everything you could ever want or need,” Steve continued when your attempt to speak came out in a whimper.

Just as you went to correct him, Steve stopped you, cupping your cheek “please don’t lie to me, doll, we can’t create a future built on lies. We always thought you were a cute little Beta but after running into you that day, we both got a nice strong whiff of your cleverly hidden Omega scent, made us both incredibly hard, especially in that outfit that looked like it was from our time. That little incident made us see you for what you are; a good little ‘mega perfectly tailored for us, made to be our girl and have our pups. Unfortunately, we had to wait sometime to wean you off of those nasty chemical suppressants but now that you’re on the verge of your first heat, your body is more ready than it ever will be to take us,” Steve explained in that eerily calm voice, the intimacy of the town and him gently stroking your cheek was easily beginning to jumble your mind as it told you to do what you’d been fighting for years, what you hoped to always avoid.

“Steve,” Bucky grumbled, finally speaking up when his friend paused, he’d started steadily grinding his hips against yours for friction. “I-I can’t, I d-don’t want this,” you stammered out, nearly biting your lip off to keep yourself from whimpering or moaning as you felt Bucky’s hard-on against you, so close to where you needed but didn’t want it to be. “Well, that’s why we’re giving you a choice, princess. We don’t want anything bad to happen to you and if you’re our girl we can make sure nothing bad ever happens to you. You’ll be the safest person on the planet. Alternatively, people will find out about your status and well, perjury, falsifying federal documents, and falsifying medical documents are serious. You’d lose your medical license permanently and it’ll be at least a decade in prison but that’s not what we want,” Steve reassured before planting a small but quick kiss on your lips and smiling.

“C'mon doll, you can be our good little 'mega and never have to do anything ever again, you’ll never have to worry about money, job security, gross bar creeps, medical issues. We just wanna take care of our girl,” Bucky whispered in your ear, his tone too gentle for the situation. When you began to object again, a strong cramp in your abdomen had you nearly double over with a pained moan. You’d have been on the floor if Bucky wasn’t holding you and Steve wasn’t in front of you. “We can make all of this pain go away right now, just say you’ll be our best girl,” Steve coerced as he moved a few strands of hair out of your face. You knew you couldn’t open your mouth without moaning in pain or screaming so you furiously shook your head. Steve continuing to stroke your cheek, though small, was enough to distract you from noticing Bucky untying and pushing your shorts down.

As much as you hated yourself for it, you moaned out in surprise when you felt Bucky’s cool metal fingers rubbing your clit slowly. The man let out a groan and pulled his hand back, smirking as it glistened in the dimmed lights of the lab “fuck, Stevie, she’s so wet for us.” The words renewed your sense of panic and you began struggling hard. That seemed to be all it took for Steve to let go of his restraint. He lunged forward and captured your lips in a harsh, hungry, and dominating kiss. The blond wasted no time ripping your shirt and bra away, sending buttons flying to the floor. He didn’t break away from the bruising kiss as he began to fondle your breasts, paying extra attention to the nipples. In your state of unwanted pleasure, you didn’t notice Bucky quickly unzipping his pants and pushing them and his boxers down enough to free his aching member.

An entirely new sense of panic filled you when you felt his head nudging at your entrance; you would not make it through this in one piece, they were going to split you in half. When Steve’s lips finally left yours, he haphazardly pulled his member out and pulled you down until your face was level with his cock. When you didn’t do anything, he seemed to signal to Bucky who then buried himself into the hilt and moaned out happily, his breathing hitching as he mumbled “fuck, so tight, feels s'good.” Just as anticipated, you opened your mouth in a silent scream of pain and forced ecstasy, he gladly took the opportunity to thrust into your mouth, making you gag when his tip hit the back of your throat.

It took them no time at all to set a bruising rhythm, their moans and groans combined with your muffled cries of pleasure and fear filled the moan. You hated the way you felt your body betray you, how your core ached from Bucky to go faster, how your mind was quickly falling into the role of a submissive little Omega that you’d avoided all your life. Pretty soon you were beginning to move with them, the logical part of your brain being overshadowed by the need to please the two Alphas violating you.

“That’s it doll, that’s our good little Omega, such a good girl cooperating with her Alphas,” Steve cooed soft praises as he proudly watched the last of your resolve vanish. He took one of your hands and wrapped it around the part of his cock that wasn’t in your mouth, helping you build up a good stroking motion before letting go. He held your hair in a makeshift ponytail and tugged whenever he felt you run your tongue along the veins. Bucky on the other hand had a vice-like grip on your hips as his thrusts gradually became erratic. He reached underneath you and started rubbing your clit quickly, this time with his flesh hand. “C'mon doll, cum for your Alphas, you’re gonna feel so good being our Omega,” he muttered into your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

You couldn’t stop yourself. Between his words and the way he rubbed your clit and Steve’s praises and encouragements, you didn’t stand a chance against doing what he asked. You came with a muffled scream as your searing orgasm raced through every one of your veins, leaving you in a seemingly endless state of white-hot euphoria. You could barely acknowledge the feeling of Bucky erupting inside of you, filling you with his seed. His thrusts slowly becoming more languid.

“C'mon, hurry up,” you heard Bucky say, even though it sounded muffled and far away to you. You admittedly whined at the loss of his member even though he still held you up. You coughed when Steve removed himself, finally taking in deep breaths of air. They switched places quickly, Steve emitting a groan as he entered you more gently than Bucky did. This time, you didn’t hesitate before taking Bucky’s cock into your mouth, just following the part of your brain that said to submit to them, that they alone could bring you this much pleasure and everything they promised. Steve gave a few thrusts before he pulled your hips flush against his and spilled himself with a content moan.

You all but collapsed to the floor when they were done, them being the only reason you didn’t. Bucky scooped you up bridal style after Steve wrapped his jacket around your used, naked form. You were only semi-conscious as they carried you out of the lab, barely awake enough to mumble out “where are we going?” “We’re going to our room, little 'mega, and we’re gonna keep doing this every night until we see you round with our pups and we’re gonna make sure you’re treated like a princess, our princess,” Steve said, using his soothing tone from earlier. Barely clinging to consciousness, you merely nodded. The last thing you remember before passing out into sweet, sweet dreamland was you saying “alphas know best.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Current~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You looked down at your stomach before looking back at the sonogram in your hands; clear as day, you could see two 8-month-old babies. You’d stopped fighting when the pregnancy tests turned positive, they were very clear that no matter where you went, they’d find you and bring you home. They kept their promise about giving you everything you could ever need or want and protecting you. They kept their promise to keep you safe and always be there for you. You resigned from your position and didn’t renew your rental agreement, officially moving in with them in a bigger room. Once you safely passed the second trimester, they claimed you as theirs and let you claim them as yours. You’re not sure if you’ll ever forgive how this started but it wasn’t so bad.

[hopelikethemoon]

used to be lonely (Javier x Reader) [MTMF verse]

Title: used to be lonely Rating: PG-13 (language) Length: 2,400 Warnings: Angst, sexism, pregnancy talk.  Notes: Based on a prompt by @youhavereachedtheendofpie​. All of maybe today, maybe forever can be read here.  Summary: A month after “maybe” Javier comes to a conclusion.  Tag List: @grapemama​ @seawhisperer​ @huliabitch​ @pedropascalito​ @thewallpapergoesorido​ @twomoonstwosuns​ @gooddaykate​(lemme know if anyone else wants to be tagged in these)

You felt like shit. The worst of the morning sickness had passed as you entered your fourth month, but that didn’t mean you magically felt good. You weren’t sleeping terribly well at night and not being able to drink coffee was torture. Work was… fine. 

You’d had to tell your superiors about your ‘delicate condition’ and they hadn’t taken it well. Their first reaction had been to send you back to the states — which had been your worst fear. If you went back to your states, you knew that whatever you had with Javier would come to an abrupt end. Every day was a give and take, trying to find your place together. It wouldn’t survive distance and you wouldn’t let him leave with you if it came to that. 

Luckily they came around and put you on indefinite desk duty. You could live with that, even if it meant spending less time with Javier in the office. You were like two ships passing in the night most days. You’d get into the office, just as he was heading out on assignment and he’d return as you were heading home. 

Sometimes he’d ride the elevator with you, even though he was headed in the opposite direction, just so he could steal a few minutes alone with you. Four stories was never enough time. He’d rest his hand on the swell of your stomach, press a kiss to your temple before the opening doors would force him to pull away. Fleeting moments that convinced you that this could be something. Something that would linger long after the baby was born. 

You pinched at the bridge of your nose as you rested your elbows on your desk. The caffeine migraines wouldn’t give you a break. Every time you caught the scent of a fresh pot brewing in the breakroom, your body craved it. And Chris seemed to make a fresh pot every hour — just to torture you. 

“Hey Peña,” Chris started, tossing a crumpled up paper onto Javier’s desk to get his attention. “How’s things out in the field?”

“Fine.” He lifted his gaze and gave Chris a questioning look. 

Chris shrugged, “You know I was just wondering if things might be easier for you now.” 

You frowned, but kept your focus on the report you were typing. 

“Why would it be easier?” Javier questioned. You glanced at him, catching the way his teeth were clenched together, his jaw set hard. You both hated Chris. Nothing good ever came from his idle wondering. 

“Well, you know.” Chris threw another piece of paper towards the garbage can against the wall, missing it by a mile. “Without having a chick in tow. No offense,” He offered disingenuously when you glared at him. “You get to deal with all Colombia’s finest informants and I can’t imagine having a female partner helped you.” 

You drew in a deep breath, counting to ten instead of picking up your stapler and beating him to death. Though the mere thought of it was wholly satisfying. You exhaled slowly, flexing your fingers before you continued typing. Chris’ sexism didn’t even warrant a reply from you. No one gave a shit and it wasn’t a hill you wanted to die on. 

“Fuck off.” Javier bit out. “She was a damn good field agent and a competent one too.” That dig made you smirk. He’d been paired with Chris a half dozen times since you got stuck on desk duty and he always looked pissed as hell when he got back. Chris was a decent agent, but he was only there because he had a drinking buddy among the higher ups. 

You glanced up again, catching Javi’s eyes on you. You could never quite tell what that look meant — sometimes it felt like he was looking into your soul and other times like he was looking straight through you. But you knew Javier better than anyone else knew him — save for Steve. You had spent the better part of your past five years in Colombia at his side, day in and day out. But sometimes you just couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Especially when it came to you. 

“Don’t waste your breath on him, Peña.” You remarked, pulling the finished report out of the typewriter. “He’s just jealous that he didn’t get my job.” Javier had been insistent that they hold the spot open until after you delivered. He’d have to work with Chris and Daniel, but neither of them would be his official new partner. 

“Damn straight I am,” Chris scoffed. “It’s not like you’re going to be fit to go back in the field.” He vaguely gestured to his stomach. “You’re already getting fat.” 

“I’m having a baby.” You snapped as you stood up. “What’s your excuse?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond, heading out of the bullpen and down the hallway towards the bathroom. You didn’t trust yourself not to cry. Your hormones were all over the place and the prickly burning in your eyes suggested that he’d struck a nerve. 

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, splashing a little water on your face to soothe the flush that was starting to spread across your skin. You looked as good as you felt, which was shit. There were dark circles under your eyes, revealing just how little sleep you were getting. 

Someone knocked at the door.

“Occupied!” You called back.

“It’s me.” 

Your brows furrowed together as you turned back to the door, you unlocked it and pulled it open a crack. “What are you doing?” You questioned as you stared at Javier, your eyes flickering up and down the hall to make sure no one else was around. 

“Just checking on you.” He murmured, his expression soft as he looked at you. “You okay?”

“Just trying to prevent a murder.” You quipped, letting out a humorless laugh. 

Javier reached through the cracked door and took ahold of your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “We could probably get away with it, if we put some effort into the planning.” He said lightly. “Can I come in?”

You nodded your head slowly, pulling the door open wider. “This is risky.” You warned him as he stepped inside and locked the door shut. 

“Just a man checking on his partner,” Javier chewed on his bottom lip with his hands on his hips. 

You frowned, resting your hand on your stomach. “That’s a ‘bad news’ look.” 

He gave a stiff nod, his jaw rocking as he stared at you. “I’ve got to meet with an informant tonight.”  

“Okay.” You said calmly, even though you felt your pulse jump in your throat.

“Okay?” Javier’s head cocked to the side, like he was expecting another answer out of you. 

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It’s your job, Javi.” 

He blinked slowly, before looking away with an incredulous laugh. “You could at least tell me that you’re hurt.” 

“By you doing your job?” You shot back, staring at him. “I don’t know what response you were expecting.” 

“Yeah,” He shook his head, his voice cutting to the bone. “I don’t fucking know what I was expecting either.” 

“I’m not in a position to be jealous, Javier.” You told him, biting down on the inside of your bottom lip. “This,” You gestured between you. “Is held together with a shoestring and the allusion of trust. 

“The allusion of trust?”

“Javier,” You crossed your arms across your chest. “Can we not do this?”

“I trust you with my life.” Javier breathed out, his eyes darting over your face. “So fuck that.”

You sighed heavily, “I trust you with my life too, but I don’t trust you with my heart.” You admitted, your lashes fluttering as you looked away. “Look, I need to get back out there before Chris comes up with a conspiracy story that neither of us need right now.” 

“Wait.” Javier urged and you turned back around to look at him. “Can I come over tonight? After?”

You gave a faint nod of your head, “I’d like that.” 

 ——

 Despite your best attempts at falling asleep, you were still wide awake on your sofa watching late-night reruns of a telenovela well past midnight. Javier hadn’t shown up, which you weren’t entirely surprised about. Disappointed? Maybe. But you knew how things went. You hadn’t gone into this with your eyes closed. You knew Javier, you knew what being with him meant. You didn’t let it get under your skin. Or at least, you didn’t acknowledge it when it did bother you. 

Sometime near one, there was a knock at your apartment door. You hauled yourself off the sofa, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders as you went to open the door. “Hey.” You smiled softly as your gaze settled on his face. 

“I didn’t know if you’d still be up.” Javier stated, hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket as he shifted anxiously on his feet. “Can I—?”

“Yeah, come in.” You pushed the door open wider, stepping aside to let him in. You drew in a shaky breath, taking your time as you pulled the door closed, latching the security chain back. “How’d the meeting go?”

Javier pushed his fingers through his hair as you looked back at him. He shook his head, “I didn’t get anything out of her.” 

“Oh.” You pulled the blanket around you tighter as you walked back towards the sofa. “I’m sorry to hear that.” You curled up on the sofa, peering over the back of it at him. “Are you going to sit down?”

“Does it not bother you?” He questioned, staying rooted in one spot. 

You sank back against the arm of the sofa, rubbing at your forehead. “I just compartmentalize it, Javier. I don’t really have the privilege to be worried about it.” Your eyes flickered towards him, “I’d rather have you most of the time, than none of the time. If that’s my two options.” 

Javier’s shoulders sagged. “I see.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, before he moved around the sofa, settling down on the opposite side of it. He stared straight ahead at the T.V., but you knew he wasn’t watching it. His jaw was clenched, lips moving slightly like he was trying to formulate what to say.

The silence was smothering as it lingered between the two of you, oppressive like the thick heat of Colombia. 

“I didn’t fuck her.” 

Your brows shot upwards. You curled your feet beneath you as you sat up, staring down the length of the sofa at him. “Is that why you didn’t get the information?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t care.” 

“Javier, it’s your job.” 

“Fuck that.” He snapped, fingers curled into tight fists on his lap. “I’m done with that shit.” Javier turned to look at you, looking more wounded than you’d ever seen him before. “It’s not just work. Don’t you get that?” 

You blinked slowly, before looking away from him because you couldn’t take the pain in his eyes. “I do. But I also know…” You shook your head. “It’s not a game, Javier. This is our job, our livelihood. We can’t let whatever this is get in the way.”

“Whatever this is.” He scoffed, sinking back against the sofa and staring up at the ceiling. “You can be such a bitch sometimes, baby.” 

“Yeah, well you’re a jackass all the time so I think we’re even.” You bit back, throwing your blanket off as you stood up. “I’m going to bed. You can sit out here and sulk or whatever, be my guest.” 

“I love you.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. 

“What did you say?” 

“You heard me.”

“No.” You turned to stare at him. “What did you say?”

“I love you.” 

“Javier, we’ve been together for a month.” 

“No shit,” He dragged his hands over his face before he stood up and stalked towards you. “We didn’t just meet last month.” 

Everything felt like it was closing in on you. The telenovela sounded like white noise in the background, blending into the thrumming of your pulse in your ears, the steady flow of air through your nose. “You can’t just say that, Javier. You can’t just tell me you love me if you don’t really mean it.” 

“I do.” 

“How?”

“You’re all I think about.” Javier admitted, reaching out to grab your hands, holding you in front of him. 

“Is that why you couldn’t?” 

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You swallowed thickly, “Wow.” 

“I tried.” He admitted. 

“I figured.” You laughed a little, uncertain how to feel. “You smell like cheap perfume.” 

He chuckled. “I’ll shower.” 

You shook your head, “It’s fine.” You took a step closer to him, looking up at him with a quiet smile. “I swear to God, if you break my heart Javi.” 

“Are you going to say it back?”

You brushed your fingers along the curve of his jaw, “No.” You said lightly. “I’m going to make you wait.” Your hands settled at his shoulders as his own hands found your hips. “You’re going to have to work for it.” 

“I can live with that.” He smirked, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. His nose bumped against yours as he pulled back. “Just don’t make me wait too long” 

“You won’t.” You promised him, giving his shoulders three little squeezes. 

Javier inhaled sharply, looking down at you quizzically. You smiled a little more broadly nodding your head to confirm his suspicions. Your fingers found their way to the back of his neck and you drew him down to kiss him again. 

You let the kiss linger, your tongue teasing over his bottom lip. “I lied. Go take a shower.” You shoved him playfully in the chest. “I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

He stole another kiss, before he headed for your bathroom, glancing back over his shoulder at you.

You were already half asleep when Javi slid beneath the covers beside you. It wasn’t the first time he’d spent the night since you’d started your relationship, but it was the first time it felt like that was where he truly belonged. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, his arm wrapped around you, his palm spread out over your stomach. 

You used to be lonely too. 

But now, in Javier’s arms… there was a hope in your heart that maybe neither of you would have to feel lonely again. 

[jungcity]

bane of the devil. | v

genre: vampire!jaehyun [angst | fluff | smut]

pairings: jaehyun x female reader

note: bane of the devil deals with themes of physical, mental, and sexual abuse as well as toxic relationships. which may be upsetting for some readers. you are advised not to continue if you feel uncomfortable to these types of plots.

words: 5.2k

“father,

he smelled like

blood,

wrath,

and battlefield

father,

he could rival

the sun

by how bright he burns

but

sunlight is poison

in his veins

sunlight is death in

his eyes

every crevice

every corner

was made to be feared.

then he smiled,

oh, father, he smiled

and whispered

“i am scared of myself, too.”

and that’s when i realized

monsters are lonely too.”

— bane of the devil // v

The blood from your body cascaded down the tiled floors to the shower drain as you harshly rubbed your skin. You did not want to cry. But as you recalled the encounter with the unknown vampire, you could not help but sob in the bathroom.

Dread fired up in your chest. You were so close to being bitten. So close. And even the comfort of Jaehyun’s rescue could not rub off the fear. More so, it had only amplified your agitation. You closed your eyes, skin wrinkling like folded papers by how tight you had shut them close. Tears once again fell down your cheeks, the warmness of it contrasting the cold waters you splashed on your face from the faucet.

Your mind drew the vision of Jaehyun holding the vampire’s heart with his bare hand. A sudden jolt sent your stomach recoiling, causing you to drop on your knees and hurl all your guts out in the toilet bowl. You regurgitated for minutes, saliva tasting like vomit after you were finished. With your knees slightly shaking, you stood up and rinsed your mouth over and over again.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror. As expected, the reflection pitifully stared at you; eyes red rimmed, lips blanched, hair as messy as a bird’s nest with little amounts of blood on your neck. The echo of image triggered the fear, and before you knew it, you were crying again.

With shaky breaths, you sauntered up to the shower and discarded all your bloody clothes on the floor. You have no idea about what to do and what you need. A cold shower to wake you up, or a hot one to erase all the trace of vampire blood on your skin? You started to soap your body, the blood coating the white color of it red. With little sobs and hiccups, you tried to lather your hair with shampoo, the smell barely reaching your nostrils.

You only know one thing, you only feel one thing; fear. And the world feels like a blur. You never want to feel this fear again.

Yes, you have no idea how your parents spent their last minutes together. Did they cry? Did they beg? But one thing is for sure, no matter how terrifying vampires could be, no matter how much fear they could inflict to a human being, you will vow not to crumble like this— ever again.

Was this real? Was everything real? It feels like a nightmare. The one where you could truly feel every single thing; fear, paranoia, thrill.

Madame Juana’s voice rang in your mind. All her proposals, all her plans; they appeared to make sense right now.

Despite that, could you truly kill? You stared down at your hands. How could these parts of your body, so delicate looking, could hurt someone? But Jaehyun had done it himself. He pulled out the vampire’s heart with his bare hands only. However, you are not like him. You are a mortal. You are like Lucas.

And by that, you could not be a vampire. But you could be a vampire hunter.

You roughly wiped your tears and breathed deeply. You let the thoughts fade in your mind, until all was blank and you could think clearly again. That’s it. There is no more thinking about it, there is no more succumbing to fear. Tomorrow, you would exactly be how you wanted yourself to be the first time you saw your parents’ dead bodies; fearless.

—

Jaehyun zipped his pants closed, forcing his mind to wander off at some place except here. Except here in Alena’s bed, with her body sprawled naked in her red mattress.

“Leaving so soon?” she purred, crawling like a cat towards Jaehyun.

It had always made him uncomfortable; the naked body of Alena. She was too white, there was not a trace of veins in her body. She almost appeared like a blank white paper, without anything written on it. But unlike all vampires in the world, her skin does not feel chalky. Jaehyun supposed it’s because of his blood running in her system.

Her arms found their way around Jaehyun’s torso, her soft breasts pressing in on his back as she tightened her hold. “Let’s do it again,” she whispered in his ear.

Months ago, Jaehyun would have been salivating like a mad dog by that statement only. He would have been jumping on her bed, discarding all his clothes, to have sex with her over and over again. But times are different. He wasn’t that lucid and naïve vampire any more.

Jaehyun stood up, not caring whether Alena would fall from the bed. “I’m going,” was his impassive words.

“My love, please?” Alena pleaded.

A sudden thought came crashing back in his mind. Lucas’ words. She’s the most powerful vampire right now. Why would you do that? He said. But why is the most powerful vampire in this town begging for Jaehyun’s manhood like it is her lifeline? Why is she sprawled naked on her own bed, touching herself while pleading for Jaehyun to stay?

Sensual moans echoed from Alena’s mouth as she inserted her middle finger in her womanhood. Jaehyun stared at her, dead-panned. Then he walked, propped his knee on the bed, and leaned closer to Alena’s frame. When he was finally looking down straight at her eyes, she sucked her middle finger, tasting herself.

“Fuck yourself,” Jaehyun spat as if she wasn’t already doing that. But he wanted her to feel that he was— not even the slightest bit— interested in all her plays anymore.

In the blink of an eye, Alena was behind Jaehyun. When he turned around to face her, her fist had already collided against Jaehyun’s jaw.

“You were nothing, Jaehyun. I’ve created you,” she said through gritted teeth.

Jaehyun recollected himself from the blow, standing on his feet as proudly as he could muster. “Who gives a fuck, really? You are just a psychopathic bitch—” Then another blow. This time, she hit his stomach. Jaehyun doubled over and crashed against Alena’s vanity.

She sauntered up to him, all naked, and crouched in front of Jaehyun.

“What were you before? A piece-of-shit of a man, who makes a living by riding a motorbike. You are pathetic, Jaehyun. Utterly, hopelessly, pathetic.” Then she spat vampire venom on his face. “Your mother did not even weep when you died.” She almost sing-songed the sentence, tasting every drip of poison laced with it. Jaehyun tried to stand up, but Alena stood up first, pressing her soles against Jaehyun’s cheek. He felt as if his skull would burst open by how much force Alena had drawn out.

“Oh, what about your father? Who had literally thrown a party when he found out that his bastard died in an accident!” Alena laughed so joyously.

Jaehyun gritted his teeth, his anger would burn down this mansion. It would. But the consumption of his blood by Alena had rendered him weak. This is all happening because he foolishly let Alena consume his blood again.

“I am all that you have, Jaehyun.” She pressed her soles further down Jaehyun’s cheek, his head burrowing on her lush carpet.

Baby steps. He heard your voice.

“No.” Jaehyun had bitten his tongue as he tried to let the word fly from his mouth. It was hard to speak in his situation, but he did anyway.

“No?!” Alena snarled before withdrawing her soles from Jaehyun’s face and grabbing his back collar. “No?!” she screamed at his face again. Then she slackened her hold and started to caress Jaehyun’s cheeks. “My love, I am all that you have, right? You are all that I have, too. Remember our promise? My love!” Then she kissed Jaehyun. His mouth didn’t move, but the woman continued her penetration. She grabbed Jaehyun’s hands and used it to grope her own breasts. “Touch me, my love. Fuck me. I am yours.”

Her eyes are frantic as she led Jaehyun’s hands towards her womanhood. “Please!” Her pupils are dilating, fangs elongating.

“No,” Jaehyun uttered.

Alena’s face dropped instantly. Her eyes clear, mouth in a thin line before speaking again. “Get out of my mansion.”

Jaehyun, for the longest time in his life, felt relieved and ready to dash away from the wretched place Alena called home.

“Do whatever you like, Jaehyun. Mingle with all the girls in the world. But you know, we both know, it’s you and me even if the world crumbles to dust.”

Jaehyun did not answer. But he knows, in the deepest parts of his rotten soul, he’s doing everything he could to change that.

Your mother did not even weep when you died. A poisonous smile had spread on his lips as he remembered. Of course, everything Alena had spat out on his face was true. Who would have cried for Jaehyun? He was nothing. A bastard of a business-man. A son of a prostitute. No, he had never insulted his mother’s work. It was her life, it was her body. She could do anything with it. But what Jaehyun looked down at was her ability to love. She’d provided him a roof, food, a chance to study— but all of it was responsibility. It was not out of love.

Jaehyun remembered the times when she would literally sell her own son to her friends for money. Luckily, Jaehyun was old enough to understand everything. So he ran away from home, from everything related to her parents. And started out his own wicked life of chasing death.

His father? Oh, his father was a son-of-a-bitch. There’s no explanation for that character. Jaehyun believes his father’s soul is more vile than that of his. But who could really tell, right?

Jaehyun could sprint away from this mansion as far as he could. But he preferred to walk out of the vicinity. Inside the many rooms of this mansion, there lays his own bedroom, and Alena’s torture room. For him.

He could still feel everything as if it was yesterday. Vampires could not feel pain. Shoot them and they would feel the bullet penetrating their flesh, but the searing pain it brings would feel nothing against their power and immortality. However, Alena had her own ways to hurt Jaehyun. The memories were foggy, but he could make out two clear tube inserted on both his wrists. His blood flowing into a large bucket, with Alena grabbing a glass full of his blood, drinking it like it was the finest of wines.

After those agonizing moments of Alena squeezing him out of blood, he would sleep. For hours. Days. Only waking up to please Alena again. And then the same thing would happen. It went in circles. At first, Jaehyun welcomed it with open arms. In Alena’s embrace, he felt like a king. Sex with her made him feel powerful.

Or so he thought.

As time goes by, with the same scenario happening again and again, Jaehyun felt like a toy. He felt weak. He wanted more. He wanted to be the king. A real one. But that won’t happen if Alena’s alive and using him like a favorite doll.

All the wretchedness he had gone through Alena’s hands were nightmares that visits him whenever he closed his eyes. Then he does not want to be king anymore.

He only wanted to be free.

Alena did not allow that to happen. It was ignominious. But Jaehyun could still remember the way he begged for Alena not to cage him.

She kept him in a dungeon, refusing to give him blood. Jaehyun had reached the point where he had experienced the ‘bleeds’. An incident where a vampire bleeds from his ears and nose by blood abstinence.

After that, Jaehyun did everything to please Alena. He did not dare escape again. But he made himself powerful. He struggled to be strong. Strong enough for Alena to want him like her life depended on his blood. He’s strived and achieved his goal. Now, he was free.

Alena could not kill him— could not harm him. Jaehyun’s blood was powerful in its own eccentricities. He did not know what is it, he could not understand it himself. But ever since he became a vampire, he never felt more human. Vinegar, garlic, rosaries, prayers, silvers— they could not affect him at all. Sunlight could singed him, but not scorch him to death, just enough to enfeeble him. But he remains vulnerable to fire, a stake at the heart, decapitation, or to sangue debolezza which translates to ‘blood weakness’. It is a rare type of vampire disease with an unknown origin, but it is still a way to kill vampires nonetheless.

And consuming Jaehyun’s blood gives Alena the same power. She won’t dispose someone as precious as him. It won’t kill her if she ever did, but Alena has been a woman born with an intense penchant for power. Jaehyun provides her that ascendancy.

Jaehyun only needs to stay alive until someone, until you, kills Alena. With the thought of your fierceness and determination of finding the vampire who killed your parents, Jaehyun took a lingering glance at the moon, before sprinting towards home and towards you.

—

“Hey, Johnny.”

You sat on the bed, phone pressed against your ear. You heard the rummaging of Johnny’s things before he answered.

“Hi, Y/N!” He greeted.

The optimism in his voice made you uncertain for a moment. You have decided to tell— lie— to Johnny about your plans regarding Madame Juana’s offers. This is what you have been waiting for all your life. A chance to know what truly happened to your parents and avenge their deaths. Johnny need not bother himself about it. You do not have to tell him. To keep him safe. To keep him sane. He would never believe you, anyways.

After minutes of being unforthcoming, you finally told him about your plan.

“Is it really needed? Like… would you really fail if you don’t join that trip?”

You sighed, trying to muster indifference. “Yes, Johnny. You know how it’s done. I don’t even know why it’s a three-month long trip! Gosh!” Just right after the words slid out of your mouth, you bit your lower lip as hard as you can. They were right when they said lies slides easily and more smoothly than truths.

“Three-month trip?! Is that really necessary?”

You heard the apprehension coating Johnny’s question. This won’t be easy for him. Not when he took the mother and father figure ever since your parents had died. But you also know that he would let you go at the end of the discussion. You just need to convince him that you will be fine.

“According to my prof, yes.” You cleared your throat, preparing yourself to tell yet another lie. “Oh, and I’ve already asked Haechan’s mom to sign my parent’s consent.”

Johnny sighed from the other line, “Alright, then. I still don’t understand why it’s a three-month long trip, but keep me updated, m’kay? I want to know everything. The hotel, the details—”

“Copy that, John. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Okay…” Johnny wavered, “Do you need any money?”

A certain sadness enveloped you. You are absolutely aware of your tightness when it comes to financial matters, and you won’t squeeze Johnny’s pockets for this ‘trip’. You would have to rely on your and your parents’ fund for assistance.

“No, John. I’m okay. Just… keep the money for yourself.” You tried to sound positive as possible. “When are you coming back, though?”

“I still don’t know. And I won’t tell you the dates. It’s a surprise!”

You laughed. A big part of you has been missing your big brother’s goofy side. It’s been months since you last saw him. “Just keep safe, Johnny. That is all I want.”

“You too, little sis. Take care of yourself.”

For hours, you’ve talked. The fear that has been nagging on you seemed to vanish as Johnny threw banters from the other line. You miss having him around. You miss the normalcy of life before seeing a bloodied Jaehyun in your doorstep.

Johnny had bid you good night, reminding you to take care and inform him about the details of your educational trip.

Three months is a long time. Your professors, for sure, won’t give you that much of a consideration even if you make an excuse letter. Nevertheless, there was no harm in trying. So you sat on your bed, your laptop’s screen blinding you.

“Ma’am and Sir…”

You started to type in your excuse letter, squinting your eyes as you skimmed the words for any loopholes and grammatical errors. You’ve decided to tell your professors the same thing you told Johnny. A trip. Family trip. Reunion. Or… maybe you could just tell them that you are currently arranging your documents that you would need to migrate to a different country. Migrating is a hectic process, it’s more believable than a reunion. No family would reunite for three months.

As the printer did its job, you waited with a sweaty forehead. Am I really doing this? You bit your lip as you stared at the letter. This is insane. But life requires a little bit of insanity. After folding the letter inside an envelope, you decided to call your friends. Another lie for another person.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Mark asked as you told him about the three-month trip that you’d also used as an excuse to obtain Johnny’s approval. Of course, you didn’t tell him about the real reasons. But Mark is a kind and respectful man, he won’t barge in your business especially when you make it clear that you won’t entertain questions.

“It’s not. I just really need to unwind. You know. Find myself.” You forced a chuckle. Losing yourself would have been the better description for your trip. But, of course, you didn’t tell Mark about that.

“I think that’s… cool. Three months is a long time, and I’m gonna miss you. But, you should go for it. I do hope you find whatever you’re looking for in your trip, Y/N.”

“Mark, you’re the sweetest.”

Of course, after talking to the kindest person you’ve ever met, you need to talk to the brat-est person God allowed you to meet in your lifetime— Haechan.

“I don’t believe this is a trip to unwind,” he said. And you could literally see his dead-panned expression from the other line. “Tell me, you’re running away with that Jaehyun guy.”

“Haechan! You’re ridiculous!” You hissed, but forcing yourself not to laugh nonetheless. “I’m serious, though. It really is a trip to unwind and find myself.” No, it’s not.

“Whatever you say. Just… take care, you bimbo.”

“Do not call me bimbo!”

“Bimbo!” he shouted. You winced and pulled the phone away. Too late for that. Then his tone changed to that of a serious one. “Call me, call us, whenever you need someone to talk to. Take care. And please! Return! I know Jaehyun’s— oh wait— who would take care of Jaehyun, then?”

Haechan’s question caught you off guard. No, no, no. Think, Y/N. Think. Sweats literally formed in your forehead as you think about whatever reason to tell Haechan.

“He’s… well… his relatives had known about his current situation. And they… they called me! Told me they’d pick up Jaehyun, then they did! It’s heart-wrenching to see them reunite after all these years.” You fake a sob.

“Wow, that’s amazing. I’m glad he’s found a family that would take care of him.”

“Yeah…” you played with your pillow. Not being able to see two of your most precious friends sent a sudden jolt of sadness to wash through you. Haechan, Mark, and Johnny are your tether to the real life. Turning your back against them means completely enveloping the mysteries laid for you by a witch, a vampire hunter, and a vampire.

“Y/N, I’m gonna miss you,” Haechan declared.

“I’m gonna miss you, too.” You nodded and wiped the sides of your eyes. Then Haechan dropped the phone call after saying good bye.

You stood up, the full moon hanging and glaring at you from the heavens. So beautiful. So captivating. Yet so portentous. You pursed your lips and shook your head before departing your room to the kitchen.

The cold water jug bit on your palms. It’s one a.m. and Jaehyun was still nowhere to be found. Where has he gone to? Yet you aren’t sure if you are ready to see his face after all that has happened.

You checked your social medias and scrolled down your feed. To be a reminder that you are still you. Normal. Somehow. When a loud bang of the door startled you from your seat. Before you could stand up, Jaehyun’s frame greeted you in the kitchen.

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. He wasn’t looking bedraggled. He looked alive, and well. Despite the blood that still adorns his skin and clothes.

“We need to go.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Pack your things and let’s go to Juana.” He started to pace, hands on his waists.

“I don’t understand. Where have you been?”

He drew in a halt and stared at you, “None of your business.”

You raised a brow. “Well? After you left me in the middle of the street, bloody and sca—” You shut your mouth close. No, you won’t admit that you were scared. Jaehyun raised his own brow, waiting for your next words. “Bloody and alone— I, at least, have the rights to know where were you.” Then you straightened your back and pretended to tower him.

“Trust me, you won’t like the answer.”

“Am I in danger?” You fisted your palms and waited for his answer. Jaehyun, for a second, didn’t know what to say. It was clear by the way he opened and closed his mouth.

“No. It’s me. He was coming for me.”

“Why?”

Jaehyun sighed deeply. “No more questions, Y/N. Let’s just go!” He hissed.

No more questions? How could he? As far as you could remember, he was the one who practically told Madame Juana to give you enough time to decide. And now he’s here, all jumpy, asking you to pack your things, giving you no chance to ask why.

“You will explain to me everything once I’ve finished packing.” You clenched your jaw, pointing your forefinger at his face. Jaehyun attempted to speak, but you have already made your way to your own room.

Two luggages were what you pulled from your bedroom to the living room. It contains your clothes and necessities. Jaehyun was sitting, freshly bathed, on the sofa. He eyes your luggages and then you.

“Seriously? That many?” He quipped.

You frowned and stared at your luggages. “Do you have the slightest idea how many womanly necessities I have to bring?”

“No, I don’t.” He shrugged.

You ignored his scrutinizing. He is a man, a vampire one at that. He won’t ever understand how it is to be a woman. “Then stop your scrutiny and focused on your— wait a minute. Why haven’t you packed your things yet?” You raised a brow while locking your luggages. After that, you roamed your eyes inside the house and sauntered up to the windows to check the locks.

“I don’t have any clothes other than what you’ve bought for me.”

Oh, yes. Jaehyun is a homeless guy without any relatives. The sudden thought made you inquisitive. Where is his parents? Are they still alive? But you shook your head, erasing your questions.

“Well, that’s a problem.” As you finished checking the locks of every possible way for a robber to enter your house, you have finally focused on Jaehyun.

He leaned on the sofa, eyeing you. “I don’t think so. Remember our deal?”

“Oh, please! You didn’t even want to join us—”

“But I did. I would.”

You bit your lips, calculating the cost if you ever decide to buy Jaehyun his own necessities. It would surely take up a big chunk off your money.

“We won’t be able to eat at the villa if I dare buy you everything you need.”

“That’s your problem, not mine. I don’t eat, Y/N.” He had the audacity to roll his eyes at you then.

Right. Vampires do not eat.

You straightened your back and leaned on the window frame, ignoring Jaehyun’s snarky comments. “Where have you been, Jaehyun?” Then you crossed your arms to tell him you would not back down unless he tells you what really happened.

“Alena,” he replied incisively.

You gulped. You weren’t expecting that name to roll off his mouth. “That’s unexpected.” Trying to sound as apathetic as possible, you focused your attention in checking the locks again. “I thought you’d burn the—” You took a deep breath, “— the vampire’s body.”

“I dumped him exactly where he came from.”

Your brows knotted instantly, reckoning his words. “Are you saying Alena sent him? For you?” This time, you had stopped pretending to check the window locks, and faced Jaehyun with inquisitiveness etched on your face.

“Partially. He sent him for me… and for you.”

You sat down yourself to the nearest sofa and tried to recollect your thoughts. Why would she do that? “For me? I don’t understand.”

“She knows I’m living here, Y/N. And she’s not happy about it.” Jaehyun pursed his lips. You were absolutely certain that he was hiding something from you.

“Oh, heavens. I— I don’t know what to say… I… Jaehyun, she’s your fiancée, right? Perhaps she got it all wrong. We’re not doing something disgraceful!” You waved your hands to the air to shake off your trepidation. Well, that’s not exactly true. On his first night in your house, he’d already kissed you.

The look Jaehyun gave you told you he was thinking about the kiss too. But he shrugged and brushed it off. “Yeah, we’re not doing something.”

“I think you should explain it to her…?”

Jaehyun snorted, “Y/N, didn’t you hear me earlier? I’m trying to severe our betrothal. I don’t give two fucks about what she thinks.”

“And why is that?”

He went silent for a moment, his eyes clear. As if remembering some horrible scene in his mind. “Do you really think I’d tell you everything? C’mon. We’re on our what? One-half step of being friends.”

“I just want to understand why would she send a vampire to harm us. Especially, me.” You pointed at yourself. “Well… perhaps she’s known about our plan.” Heavens. The thought was too terrifying for you to bear.

“No. She didn’t tell me anything about that.” Jaehyun stood up then, “So we better get moving before she sends her vampires again to kill us. Earlier was already a warning.”

When you attempted to speak, Jaehyun raised a finger to stop you. “Please, baby. No more questions.”

So you shut your mouth with a hope that you could do the same with your thudding heart.

On the way to Madame Juana’s mansion, you have separated the money for Jaehyun’s needs. In the end, you have decided to buy him his necessities. You supposed it won’t be that costly, considering his nature. Clothes are all he needs.

“You’ve decided the right thing, Y/N.”

Even in the stark of dawn, Madame Juana was ready to accept you in her home. She looked immaculate as always, her silk robes hugging her frame as she greeted you.

“I… hope so.” You smiled at her, heart beating loudly for what lays behind all your decisions. Jaehyun remained leaning on one of the pillar inside Madame Juana’s hall, observing you and the witch.

“To be honest, some part of me didn’t expect to see you at all. That’s why I’m so glad to see you, darling.” She caressed your cheek like how mothers do to their children. You fought the urge to lean on her hand, suddenly remembering your mother with a twinge of pain in your chest.

“Well, this is my only chance to know who killed my parents. I couldn’t simply let this slip.”

Jaehyun had convinced you not to tell Madame Juana about your encounter with the vampire earlier. He nagged and reminded you to be more careful especially to friendly faces. And now that you are walking through a path cloaked with darkness. Those were his exact words. You would’ve laughed by the way he delivered it, but he was so serious that you resulted in gulping down your chuckles instead.

Madame smiled. In that moment, you wanted to ask her if she could enchant Hubert already. It’s not like you would run away from her and bail on your deal. But an uncertainty made its way on you. You still have no idea about her true nature; her patience and her attitude. It would be careless to ask such favors. Especially to a witch.

“Excellent, darling.” Then she pulled her hand away, “I’ll get ready. Mr. Jones will—”

“I… still wanna talk to you about some things.” You took a quick glance at Jaehyun, who raised his brow at you, “Privately.” Then he frowned and walked away, fishing something in his pockets. You could only pray that he won’t pry with his sharp hearing.

“Go on, Y/N. What is it?”

You hesitated for a moment, before sighing deeply and focusing your eyes at Madame’s own. “Can you… I mean, I want to block Jaehyun from reading my mind.”

Madame’s brow shot up to her forehead, the side of her mouth twitching upwards. “Interesting favor, darling. But understandable. I know how insufferable it is for someone to infiltrate your mind without permission.” She held the sides of your forehead with both her hands, “This might hurt a little. Like a migraine.”

You shut your eyes closed and readied yourself for the pain. Enchantments rolled off her tongue. It sounded like Latin mixed with a language you haven’t heard before. A grumble of pain echoed from you as you felt the ache of the magic. It was exactly like what she told you; a migraine, but a sharp one.

“Done,” Madame stated.

You felt the absence of her fingers, resulting on you clutching a handful of your hair to prevent the pulsating pain. As you grip your hair with your hand, you lifted the other one to tell Madame that you still have one remaining thing to say.

“One more thing, Madame.”

“Now, now. What is it, darling? Are you going to ask me to block your heart from falling in love with the vampire?”

At her bold statement, your eyes widened, heart somersaulting inside your chest. “No!” You shouted, voice bouncing off the walls of her mansion.

A low chuckle resonated from the Madame’s throat. “Don’t be so upset and defensive, little dove. It’s written all over you—”

It’s dangerous to cut off a witch’s sentence, but you could not bear to hear the end of her statement. “I actually wanted to tell you that I want to become a vampire hunter.”

Madame’s grinning face changed to that of a surprised one. But she quickly regained herself, her grin spreading wider than the last time. “Then I guess my villa isn’t the right place for you. But the Academy.”

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[yzareenxiv]

FFXIVWrite2021 - 14: Commend

Commend

((Sequel to Prompt 13. TW: Blood, TW: torture (minor) ))

Zareen had always been comfortable in her own skin but standing before the assembled courtiers and the monarch and her consort, she truly felt naked. She was shaking, badly, so weak she could barely keep on her feet. Her body was a shell of itself- bones showed clearly through skin stretched tight over them by near-starvation, all of her soft curves burned away in her body’s desperate bid for survival. The gilded collar rubbed harshly against her collarbones and the shackles on her wrists could almost slide off her hands.

Worst yet, her hair had been shorn sometime recently in her captivity and she could not remember when. Long enough ago that the growth was perhaps two or three ilms. It was that insult, that incredible insult to her person, that was giving her the sheer energy of rage that allowed her to keep her feet and keep her head upright, green eyes glaring defiantly as she looked around the room at the monstrous beings around her.

The Queen-Mother, one of the only two beings in the room that was a splash of color in the near-monochrome group in an overly-elaborate gown the deep blue-purple of venous blood, moved up to Zareen in a sinuous motion. One of her hands reached up to caress Zareen’s cheek in a proprietary manner that immediately made the miqo’te snap at her. The courtiers gasped as one but the Queen-Mother only laughed in delight, especially when the sharp motion threatened Zareen’s delicate sense of balance and she swayed in place.

“Such spirit. I really must commend you- my huntmaster has never failed before to bring a beast to heel. You made him so angry he screamed himself hoarse…” Her voice trailed away and the courtiers laughed in the pause, just as she had intended. One of them is a little too loud and laughs a little too long and the Queen-Mother’s eyes flick to them as another hand gives a subtle gesture to her consort. The Crimson King doesn’t move, but four ill-defined shadowy figures encircle the offending Lady and drag her away, kicking and screaming and flailing, begging for forgiveness.

There is a beat of silence before the Queen-Mother smiles and begins walking around Zareen, observing her from all angles as she shakes and struggles. Impossibly long nails- or perhaps sharpened bone?- trail across Zareen’s hipbone and along her lower back just hard enough to leave a red mark without breaking thin skin. “You really are remarkable, you know. So delicate but with such strength riding just below the surface. You really are wasted in the kennels though you did so very well in the last Great Hunt. Barring that… unfortunate display, of course.” Several of the courtiers shifted uncomfortably at the memory but the Queen-Mother continued on.

“You really did leave me no choice, refusing to even apologize.” She paused, looking at Zareen expectantly. Zareen just stared back, eyes narrowed and dangerous, ears pinned back. There was no way in any of the hells- including this one- that Zareen would admit that she had no idea what was being said to her. The language grated on her ears and in her soul though she had heard enough of it now to at least start to understand the inflections of emotion and expectation. She knew the monarch expected a reply and she might have done so had it not revealed her ignorance. Every weakness, no matter how insignificant it seemed, could and would be exploited in this place and Zareen knew it. So she kept her silence- and the silence stretched between them.

And stretched.

And stretched.

The Queen-Mother’s anger palpably grew in the room, making the small space feel oppressive.

Finally, the Crimson King spoke up in his rolling voice, tone almost lazy. “It appears the cat has her tongue, Your Majesty.”

Silence amongst the assembly, breath held, then the Queen-Mother let out a laugh and everyone immediately laughed along save for the miqo’te in the center of the room. “So it does, my love. So it does. Let us remedy this, hm?” She turned her eyes to one of the figures behind Zareen and beckoned. Two tall Lords walked forward to flank the miqo’te and her eyes flitted from one to the other. They dwarfed her, easily 8 fulms or so a piece and built wide and heavy. The Queen-Mother gave another gesture and the two Lords moved smoothly in a way that suggested they had done this many times in the past. One stepped behind Zareen and grappled her, pinning her arms to her body and lifting her off her feet in a smooth motion. The other grabbed her head in a huge palm, pinching her nose shut as the other hand pried at her jaw. Zareen was weak from her privations but she thrashed and fought violently and earned several pained grunts from well-placed strikes of her heels. The lack of air and her general state, though, meant she was forced to open her mouth to take a breath, which allowed the huge Lord to wrench her jaws open as wide as they could go. She screamed and roared and the Queen-Mother smiled before reaching into Zareen’s mouth and grabbing her tongue in a vicious grip. Claws of sharpened bone curved and slashed and the miqo’te gurgled and tried not to choke as she was unceremoniously dropped to the floor where she promptly collapsed.

Her body didn’t have the extra moisture required for tears but her eyes burned as she curled up protectively, swallowing the blood as quickly as she could not only to keep from choking on it but because she was so, so thirsty. The Queen-Mother held Zareen’s tongue in her claws and gave a thoughtful hum before devouring it in neat bites, expression making it clear she was savoring the treat immensely. The last bite she turned to feed to her consort, the Crimson King making much of licking the blood off her claws. When he was finished, he leaned in and murmured something into his lover’s ear which made her cast a thoughtful, considering gaze back at the moaning, rocking miqo’te on the floor.

A smile suddenly curved cruel lips and the courtiers- save for the Consort- felt flutters of fear race through them. That expression boded ill for someone. “Take her to the General’s quarters. Inform him that I am tasking him, personally, with her recovery and well-being- as well as her education in the ways of the Court. Perhaps once she has regrown her tongue, she might be more informed on it’s proper use as a servant.” Several of the courtiers tittered, others shared glances as this masterful move by the monarch could significantly change the political board. The General, out of favor since the collapse of his campaign and relegated to his own lodge out in the territories, was being given a rare chance to redeem himself.

As the Queen-Mother and the Crimson King swept out of the room, only the two tall Lords remained behind. One, with a gentleness that belied his previous actions, took one of the tall drink glasses from a table and gave it to Zareen, encouraging her to drink the liquid as she began to go into shock. She could not fight it- not once she felt the soothing cool running down her throat and easing the incredible pain on the stump of her tongue. He removed his cloak and wrapped it around her while the other Lord frowned.

“You shouldn’t do that.” He grumbled, eyeing his companion as he lifted Zareen in a bridal carry. “You know what she is.”

“I do. I remember what we were, too. So do you, even if you pretend you don’t.” The first Lord retorted sharply.

Silenced, the second man frowned and looked away. “Those memories are useless. You need to let them go. They’ll only cause you trouble. Which causes me trouble.”

“Mmm. Pretend I’m doing it to curry favor with a potential playing piece if you want.” The Lord carrying Zareen said as the two began to walk to the stables. They would need to ride to the General’s lodge.

The other snorted derisively. “You think she is going to be anything but a pawn? You’re more delusional than I thought.”

“Who’s to say? Better to hedge my bets than dismiss a possibility out of hand.”

The other grunted, unable to argue with that.

And even in her pain and suffering, Zareen clutched the gift of that cloak close to her naked body.

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part 8: A Case of the Ex”

Oh Sonny, what are we going to do with you? Actually I can certainly think of one or two things 😜 Anyways, welcome to Part 8 where we find out how the reader reacts when Sonny brought over his “mystery guest”  to dinner 👀 

Thanks for all the love with this series! You guys are amazing ❤️

This couldn’t be happening. This was a dream. Yes, a dream. You were simply having a nightmare. It was an illusion. A succession of images that usually occur involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep. Any moment now you would wake up with Rafael’s limbs entangled around you like overgrown vines, heating your body. You swore that man was a walking furnace. From under the table you discreetly pinched your arm, wincing slightly when you felt the sharp pain from where your nails dug into your skin. Oh no. That proved it. This was real.

When you announced to your family that the engagement with Theo was off, you happened to leave out several important details such as coming home from work early one day to find him in bed with the flighty twenty-one year old who delivered your dry cleaning. Only your sisters knew the truth and you practically made them swear a blood oath that they wouldn’t tell a soul.

It’s not that you were a particularly private person. Being raised in the Carisi household, everyone was in each other’s business. But with Theo, it was different. He was your next door neighbor. You grew up together. You were the Mary to his Joseph in the Nativity play in the third grade. Your mom and his mom taught Catechism together. Breaking off your engagement left you heartbroken and you didn’t want to burden your family with the details. Your dad was recovering from a heart attack. Your mom had her hands full between caring for your father and worrying about her children. And then there was Sonny.  

Working with SVU over the years, you noticed a change in him. He was more quiet and cautious, even becoming a borderline realist—a stark contrast from the goofy, loveable, optimistic, older brother. You saw how Mike Dodd’s death affected him, even though Sonny tried to hide it from you. Then a year later during a night out at the bar, he drunkenly confessed that a perp by the name of Tom Cole had held him at gunpoint while he was trying to save a victim. You saw how his body trembled in fear, the tears in his eyes. Although you begged him to get therapy, he shrugged off your suggestion and told you to drop it. You never spoke of it again. The last thing you wanted to do was give him one more thing to worry about. Your life and all its troubles seemed to pale in comparison to the nightmare he had lived through.

Rafael glanced between you and the man who resembled an Italian Vogue model standing next to Sonny. “Is that who I think it is?” he mumbled. The tiniest nod of your head confirmed his suspicions.

So this was the infamous ex-fiancé. Theo was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome: chocolate brown eyes, thick shiny mane, and a dazzling smile which Rafael could’ve sworn were caps. Not to mention, he was in your age bracket.

Rafael slumped down in his seat a bit, feeling self conscious. He had always thought he was a decent looking guy. Walking down the courthouse halls with his swagger and sharp suits, he noticed several women and men eyeing him. But compared to Theo, Rafael felt like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Gina narrowed her eyes. “What is he doin’ here?”

“Yeah,” Bella added. “Shouldn’t he be out getting his dry cleaning?”

“Girls,” Julia scolded although she was just as surprised to see your ex in her dining room.

The last time Theo visited your parents was about two years ago when you both were making a seating chart for your wedding. Then one Sunday you came to the house alone with your eyes red-rimmed and puffy, announcing the engagement was off. You had claimed the reason was because Theo was moving too fast and that you weren’t ready to settle down just yet. But something told Julia Carisi that there was more to the story than what you were letting on, call it a mother’s intuition. Regardless of your mysterious breakup, your mother was not about to be rude to her new guest. She could give Emily Post a lesson in being a good hostess. Getting up from the table, she smiled and pulled Theo into a hug. “Theo, sweetheart. It’s so nice to see you. How’re your parents?”

“Great to see you too, Julia. The folks are fine. I hope it’s ok I’m here.”

“Absolutely. We have plenty of food.” Julia turned towards her husband. “Dom, can you get another chair?” Your father didn’t respond, still in shock over the sudden reappearance of your ex. “Dom!” She clapped her hands to get her husband’s attention.

“Huh,” Dom said, snapping out of his trance. “Oh sure.”

As your father left to get a chair, Sonny smiled and patted Theo on the back. “Let me grab ya’ a plate and some silverware.”

While your parents and brother were busy making your guest comfortable, Theo caught your eye and immediately made a beeline towards you. “Hey stranger.” Before you could even react, he wrapped his arms around you, his one hand pressed into the small of your back. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear. You stood there frozen with your arms at your sides. It took all your strength to quell the wave of nausea rising in your stomach.

In Rafael’s opinion, the hug lasted much longer than what society would deem to be acceptable. His fists slightly trembled. He could feel himself quickly transforming into the ugly green monster within. “Hi,” he said, a little too loudly. “I’m Rafael. Y/N’s boyfriend.”

Finally letting you go, Theo turned towards Rafael and laughed before focusing his attention back on you. “He’s kidding, right?”

You immediately reached for Rafael, finding comfort in his presence by your side. “Actually he’s quite serious. Do you find that amusing?”

Upon learning that you and Rafael were together, Theo’s lips curved into a smirk that left you feeling uneasy. “Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order,” he replied and extended his hand to Rafael. “You’re a lucky man. There’s nobody like Y/N.” He glanced your way with a glint in his eye. “Nobody.”

Dom and Sonny came out of the kitchen with an extra chair and a place setting. “Here ya’ go, pal,” Sonny said. Theo took the chair and placed it right next to yours, reaching across you to grab some of your mother’s lasagna.

He took a bite and moaned. “This is delicious, Julia. I’ve sure missed your cooking.” His foot slyly nudged yours under the table causing you to scooch your chair away.

Being smushed in between your boyfriend and your ex-fiance was some sort of cruel torture. You were seconds away from lunging across the table and punching your brother, but instead you stood up. “Sonny, I need your help getting some wine from the kitchen.”

“Now? But we have wine here.” Sonny motioned to the Amarone on the table.

“Yes, but there’s a nice Chianti in the kitchen and it’s on a shelf that I can’t reach.” You crossed your arms and gave your brother a threatening glare. “Now or I’ll eat your liver with some fava beans. I hear it pairs nicely with a Chianti.” Sonny sighed and followed you into the kitchen.

You gripped the edge of the sink and silently counted to 10 in order to calm yourself before addressing your brother.

“So where’s the Chianti or did ya’ just bring me in here to watch ya’ breath,” Sonny remarked.

You whipped your head around and narrowed your eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sonny innocently shrugged. “Havin’ lunch with my family.”

“Don’t be cute.” You tugged on your mom’s yellow kitchen gloves and began to furiously scour a greasy pan with a brillo pad, finding some sense of clarity in your angry cleaning. “I can’t believe you invited Theo. How dare you!”

“What’s wrong with that? Theo hasn’t been here in ages.”

“Yes and there’s a reason for it. We broke up or maybe you haven’t gotten that through your thick skull yet.”

Sonny pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand ya’, Y/N. First ya’ break off the engagement with Theo cause he’s movin’ way too fast even though you two grew up 6 feet away from each other for 18 years. But one month with Rafael and you’re ready for a colonial, 2.5 kids, and a collie?”

“My personal life is none of your business,” you growled.

Sonny scoffed. “Well actually it is my business since you are fuckin’ someone I work with.”

You dropped the dish you were cleaning with a violent clang, water splashing everywhere and took a few steps toward your brother. “Choose your next words wisely, Dominick Carisi, Jr.”

Sonny shook his head, his appearance akin to disappointment. It was hard for him to separate the woman you had become with the little girl you once were.  If he closed his eyes, he could picture you with your skinned knees and unruly hair coming out of your french braid, demanding piggyback rides from him. And even though that little girl was gone, you were still so young and naive about this world. There was so much you needed to learn.

“What happened to us, Y/N. I mean we used to be so close. I’m your big brother and I’m tryin’ to look out for ya’.” He tentatively put his hand on your shoulders, tilting his head lower to meet your gaze. “I’m doin’ this because I love ya’ and I want what’s best for ya’. I’ve worked with Barba for years. I know him and he’s not a good fit for ya’. You’re going to regret this.”

You fought back the sting of tears and tucked in your quivering bottom lip. You refused to cry in front of Sonny. Although you hated to admit it, his opinion mattered to you. It broke your heart that he didn’t approve of you and Rafael.

Just then the kitchen door swung opened, revealing your boyfriend’s handsome head poking in. “Everything ok in here?” He stepped into the kitchen. “Cause Gina is asking me when we’re gonna make her an aunt and that led to one of your nieces asking where babies come from and your mom is trying to eavesdrop on you both with a glass held up to the wall.”

“Why don’t ya’ mind your own business, Barba,” Sonny sneered. “I’m talkin’ to my sister.”

“Not anymore. We’re leaving.” You rushed past him and ran back out into the dining room, meeting the shocked faces of your family.

“Everything ok?” Julia asked. The shortness of breath in her voice indicated that she had just ran to her seat from her position near the wall.

“I’m sorry. We have to go,” you mumbled and made a mad dash to the foyer to grab yours and Rafael’s coats.

Your parents exchanged a worried glance and immediately followed you.  “Honey, are you sure? What about dessert? I made your favorite cheesecake. Please stay,” Julia pleaded

Your dad leaned forward and spoke softly, “Ya’ know if you’re upset about Sonny bringing that pretty boy punk over for lunch I can kick him out. For that matter, I can kick Rafael out too. Anything for my little patatina.” He grinned and booped you on the nose.

You faked a smile for your father. “That won’t be necessary, Pops.”

Julia smoothed down your hair. “Then sweetheart what’s wrong?”

The words were right there at the tip of your tongue. You wanted more than anything to confess everything then march over to Theo and crush his balls into powder. But one look at your family told you now was not the time, not when you were surrounded by your adorable albeit nosy nieces and nephews and your sisters who thought of family drama as a national sport.

So instead you hemmed and hawed, stammering over your words as you tried to think of a plausible reason for your sudden departure when Rafael spoke up behind you. “Actually it’s my fault,” he lied and wound his arm around you. “I’m so sorry. I got a call from work and I need to run over to the office for a few hours.”

Sonny followed Rafael into the foyer and arched a brow in suspicion, not falling for his excuse. “That’s funny. I never got a call from Liv about a case or anything.”

Rafael turned towards the detective and narrowed his eyes. “Oh don’t worry. I’ll be filling you in on the details later.”

“Well, let me pack up some food for you both. It’s the least I can do.” Julia gently cupped your face and patted Rafael on her way to the kitchen in search of tupperware but you stopped her.

“Some other time, Ma. We really have to go.” You kissed her and your dad and waved goodbye to the rest of your family.

“Thank you for a wonderful meal. It was nice to—” Rafael was unable to finish his farewell as you dragged him out the door.

“What the hell was that all about?” your dad asked Sonny once you had left.

Sonny ignored him and pushed past his parents to run out after you. “Y/N! Wait!”

You stopped in your tracks and turned towards your brother, slapping him hard across the face. Your entire body shook with rage, tears streamed down your cheeks. You felt completely and utterly betrayed by the one person you had relied on your entire life. “Stay out of my life,” you said in a shaky voice before getting in the car with Rafael and driving away.

You only made it one block when you had to pull over, your tears blinding your vision. Slumping over the steering wheel, your forehead connected with the horn causing the most pathetic little beep as you cried even harder. This was not how you intended the day to go. Rafael rubbed your back in soothing circles. “Shhh, it’ll be ok, hermosa. Everything’s going to work out,” he cooed.

“No it won’t,” you wailed and banged your head against the steering wheel several more times.

Rafael winced and tried to pull you away from the beeping horn, not wanting to create yet another scene. “Babe, stop. I don’t want someone from Neighborhood Watch to come out.”

You sat up and sniffled. “I’m so sorry about Theo and lunch.”

“I’ve experienced much worse during lunch. Trust me.” He handed you his handkerchief and ran his fingers through your hair. “Do you want me to drive?”

You loudly blew your nose and hiccupped. “Sure. Can you drive?”

“Of course I can drive. Now let’s trade.” Unbuckling your seatbelt, you got out of the car and swapped places. “Can I drive?” he mumbled, chuckling to himself. Of course he failed to mention that he only learned to drive a few years ago, never really seeing a need for it when he lived in Manhattan, one of the highest rated cities for public transportation. Once you were comfortable, he turned on the ignition and sped down the street, making his way back to the city.

*****

Sonny stood there, stunned, listening to the sound of your car screeching down the street. A laugh coming from the porch signaled his attention. “Ladies and gentlemen of Sycamore Avenue, behold the man who was just bitch slapped by his baby sister!” Bella announced.

Sonny rolled his eyes. “What are ya’ doin’ out here?”

“Ma wanted me to check on ya’.” She sat down on the front step and patted the spot next to her at which he begrudgingly obliged her request. She leaned forward and inspected the right side of his face. “Huh, interesting. I can make out a thumb print.”

“Stop it.” He crossed his arms and scooted away, trying to cover the one side of his face.

Bella shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re an amazing big brother and I’m grateful for all you’ve done, especially with Tommy. But when are ya’ gonna realize Y/N’s not a little girl anymore. She is the most level-headed out of all of us that includes you,” she said with a smirk and playfully nudged him. “She knows what she’s doing and Rafael is an incredible guy. Ya’ have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not see that he adores her.”

“I just want what’s best for her and that’s not Rafael. You of all people should understand. Ya’ caught a glimpse of the world that Rafael and I live in during Tommy���s trial. I don’t want that for her. I don’t want that for any of ya.” Sonny sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, slouching as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders

“Hey,” Bella softly said, flicking her brother’s ear to get his attention. “I know your job is tough. I mean I can’t imagine the things you face everyday but ya’  gotta stop this. You have to stop living for this job, it’s gonna eat you alive. We’re all worried about ya.”

Sonny scoffed. “I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me when was the last time ya’ went out on a date or ya’ didn’t wake up from a nightmare or ya’ took a vacation. Think about it.” She patted his knee and stood up to leave before turning back one last time. “Just don’t push people out of your life cause otherwise you’ll end up alone.”

Bella had hit the nose right on the head. He hated when she was right. Between law school and work, he hadn’t been living. When he wasn’t working, he was studying or taking a class or screaming in his sleep after having yet another nightmare of Tom Cole holding a gun to his forehead. In truth, there was someone who had caught his eye. Someone he had wanted to ask out from the moment he saw her and yet whenever he made an attempt, something stopped him.

Why couldn’t he just let everything go? Why couldn’t he live anymore? Sonny felt as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to topple over the edge, about to leave everything and everyone he held near and dear to his heart. Sitting there on the porch, he shivered a bit in the early spring air, unsure what felt worse, the sting of your hand across his face or the words you last spoke to him.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @goodluckfindingone @scarlettsoldier​ @youreverycolor​ @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ @imagine-all-the-imagines @imjustreallynosy​ @graniairish​ @ashley-chi​ @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613  @mysterioustrashadventures @that-girl-named-alex​ @scapricciatello @mrsrafaelbarba @zizzlekwum @katierpblogg

[misterewrites]

Unlikely Allies (Welcome to the Underground

Hey everyone! E here hoping you are all safe and sound. Sorry for the delay. The original plan was for me to update every two week because of my various responsibilities but a lot of things ended up happening so I had to delay this chapter a bit. Also there has been a shift in my job that might affect the release date of this chapters as well so hopefully I can keep up the whole two week deadline but as a word of warning delays might happen.

Thank you for reading this project of mine. I really appreciate it and I am so glad it's doing so well. Feel free to Reblog, share, comment all that jazz I love reading them and remember this story is also on Ao3. Stay safe, wear your mask, wash your hands and take care of yourself and your love ones! Have a great week! E is out!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/71425041

Story so far: One day into the Underground proper and Abigail has already been chased by strange creatures into an unexplored tunnel and a creepy house that screams trouble. Trapped within, the group runs into a paladin wandering the darken halls. Despite the stranger's calm demeaner, Oliver claims he's nothing but trouble and little does the group know how correct he is. 

_____

“No by the way” Oliver narrowed his eyes at the man before the trio.

The stranger tilted his head quizzically “No?”

“No” Oliver repeated firmly “We’re not interested in your righteous cause or your god.

The stranger chuckled darkly “What righteous cause?”

“You’re a paladin in an evil creepy house in an unexplored tunnel off the beaten path.” Oliver explained “That only means one thing: Trouble. Solius I take with the whole…”

He gestured to the faded sun symbol splashed across the dented armor.

“Aye” The paladin answered with a nod “I am Fen, judgment of the sun god Solius on this mortal plane.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow sarcastically “Solius is the god of sunshine, rainbows and redemption. I wasn’t aware of he added judgment to his resume.”

“He hasn’t” Abigail mumbled.

Neither Oliver or Fen paid her any attention.

“Your mocking is common among the faithless” Fen growled softly.

Oliver gave a noncommittal shrug “If you want to believe in a higher being in exchange for some magical whatevers, that’s a you problem. I’m good with my music.”

“Bards” Fen spat out distastefully.

“Paladorks.” Oliver replied with false civility.

Abigail and Archibald watched the barbed exchange carefully, unsure what exactly was going on.

Abigail’s knowledge of paladins was sketchy at best: Like clerics, she knew their drew their magic from the deity they have chosen to follow. Good and bad gods existed in equal measure in this world and each ruling a domain such as light, dark, night, murder, redemption. Unlike the clerics, who often were healers or at the very least practitioners of powerful magics, paladins were their god’s warrior on the mortal plane, protecting their flock or routing out their enemies with religious fervor and steel.

Abigail was only familiar with Solius due to her family’s livelihood. While not particularly devoted to the sun god, her parents often left offerings in his church in the town to help ensure a good harvest for the year.

Speaking honestly, Abigail was never sure how exactly clerics and paladins drew their magic from a god or how exactly gods worked. She had heard the elders endlessly argue whether the gods were divine or simply higher beings who were beyond the comprehension of mortal beings. It was frankly above her thought process and she rather focus on questions she could answer such as what she was going to eat that day and if the bloodblooms needed more or less water.

“So.” Oliver began tiredly “How much danger are we in?”

Abigail and Archibald shared a concern glance

“I’m sorry, did you just say we’re in danger?”

“Yes” Fen answered bluntly “Much danger.”

“Much danger?” Abigail couldn’t keep stop her pitch from rising “Danger!?”

Oliver gestured to Fen “Of course we’re in danger. A paladin’s here. An experienced

paladin.”

“How do you know he’s…?”

The question died in her throat as she got a good look at Fen: A longsword hung sheathed at his side, his armor worn and nicked dozens of scratches and dents across the faded symbol of a sunburst. At first she thought his left arm was draped in his riding cloak, hidden out of sight but as he pushed the hood from his head and adjusted the cloak with his right hand, she realized with an icy chill that he had no left arm.

Archibald shifted uncomfortably beside her.

“I lost it in a mighty battle.” Fen answered the group’s unasked question “I had it removed when a cursed creature bit my arm.”

“Cursed creature?” Abigail thought for a moment “Like a werewolf? Wait, there’s werewolves down here? How would that even work?”

“Mystic moon energy. Let’s move along.” Oliver chimed in “What are you hunting here in the dark?”

“Wait I want to know more about the werewolves!”

“Demon” Fen stated, ignoring Abigail’s inquires.

“We’re in its prison, aren’t we?” Oliver rubbed his eyes wearily.

Abigail stopped dead in her tracks “Demon?”

Fen remained silent but nodded in conformation.

“Demon.”

“For fucks sake. Can we leave?”

“Guys, there’s a demon here?”

Fen paused thoughtfully “I do not know but I would recommend against it. The sealing power of this place is weakened. If it were to escape….”

“Yeah, yeah.” Oliver cut him off “Innocent souls consumed, bloodshed, the standard spiel.”

Fen glared openly “How carefree it must be to hold nothing sacred.”

“Not all of us wear our bleeding hearts on our sleeve.” Oliver coldly replied.

Abigail cut in between them “There’s a demon here?!”

“Yes, I thought we made it clear. Keep up farm girl.”

“How are you not panicking?!”

“Survival instinct” Oliver explained simply “You can panic when you’re not about to die.”

“Speaking of, remember not to in a moment.” Fen glanced towards a darken hallway, drawing his blade quietly.

Something changed. The air, calm and still, became tense and uneasy. Goosebumps ran down Abigail’s spine as a sense of dread filled every inch of her body.

She wasn’t the only one who felt the shift: Archibald stood closer to her, one hand his bow the other on her shoulder, his breath steady yet stiff. Oliver held his lute in a death grip, his fingers curved in anticipation and ready to pluck the strings at a moment’s notice.

“It’s coming” Oliver whispered carefully to the others, his gaze fixated on the hallway before them.

At first Abigail was unsure how the bard knew that: the house was dark and the dusty air swirling about made it hard to make out anything beside silhouettes of furniture and decor.

Then she heard it: Thud, thud, thud of uneven footsteps as the demon lumbered ever closer to the group. The scraping of wood against something seemed impossibly loud in Abigail’s ears as she tried to shove down her fear from bubbling out of her throat.

“What the hell….?” she murmured as the creature shuffled uneasily into the room.

Oliver scoffed “Yes it did come from hell. Thank you farm girl.”

“Even now? Seriously Oliver?”

“It’s how I cope.”

The demon was humanoid, 7 feet tall with splotches of bruising across its deep red skin. The form was a strange mixture of heavily muscular and malnourished. It wobbled into the room, its thinly skeletal left leg being dragged along uselessly. It flexed its thick muscles threateningly as it held a massive weighed club up with little effort. The demon studied the others with sunken flaming eyes, its skin loose and pulled over the skull like an ill fitting mask. The wispy strains of reddish black hair swayed back and forth.

Abigail’s throat dried as the room became warm and stuffy almost as if this creature’s presence alone corrupted the air around them.

Abigail coughed a little, trying to clear her airway from the heat “What is that thing?!”

“No idea.” Oliver shrugged, clearing his throat as well.

“I thought you knew everything!”

“Not even close farm girl.”

“Then why do you act like it?!”

Abigail snarled but before she could strike at the bard, she felt Archibald’s hand gently squeeze her shoulder. She turned to face him and saw him breathing deep and slow.

He was right. This was not time to let her feat lash out everyone around her. She needed to stay calm if they were going to get out of this in one piece.

The demon tilted its head curiously at the group before it. It spoke deep and gravelly with a tone that was questioning but no one knew what it was asking.

“Maybe it’s asking if we come in peace?” Abigail chimed in hopefully.

“Tis a beast from hell. Do you really think it is asking for peace?” Fen scolded harshly.

Abigail’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment “I can dream alright! It’s my first time dealing a demon from the 7th pit of hell! Forgive me if I’m holding on to childish questions cause I’m trying not to freak out here! It’s how I cope!”

The demon grumbled its question again eyeing each person carefully.

“Watch for its left hook.” Fen cryptically offered.

“What?”

The demon shrieked, rattling the house violently before reaching out with its left hand. Without warning, the arm stretched forward towards the group, the skin wrinkling and pulling loose.

Abigail froze as the sharp nails grasped wildly in her direction.

Archibald moved, shoving Abigail out of the way but ran straight into the hand’s grasp. It dug its claws into his armor though luckily it hadn’t manage pierce skin.

“Archie!” Abigail cried, fumbling uselessly for her knife.

Fen and Oliver jumped into action: As the arm pulled back to drag the helpless archer closer, Fen grappled Archibald, holding on with all his strength. Oliver pluck his lute with a dramatic flourish, gold musical symbols filling the air for a moment. Abigail flinched at the clashing notes played but the demon’s reaction to the dissonance was far more explosive: Its face contorted and recoiled as if it Oliver had physically attacked it. Its body shuddered and its claws loosened their grip. Fen jabbed his blade into the demon’s grip over and over again until it released its hold on Archibald.

Demon snarled hungrily as the arm snapped back into place.

“Archie, Archie I’m sorry I…” The words died in Abigail’s throat as he gave her a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry farm girl.” Oliver shouted, pulling at her cloak to get her moving “It happens but if you’re not good at fighting…”

“Get good at getting out of the way.” Abigail whispered back as she allowed the bard to pull her to the side.

Oliver faced Abigail questioningly “Oh you know the saying? That’ll save time.”

Abigail remained silent. Arthur used to tell her that when he joined the knights.

Fen pushed forward, sword drawn with Archibald close behind.

Archibald fired an arrow, attempting to cover Fen’s approach but it bounced harmlessly off the demon’s skin.

Fen lunged forward, swinging wide and cutting a deep gash across its chest but the beast countered, aiming its club towards the paladin’s head. He ducked, tucking under the demon’s outstretched arm and backing off.

“Oi paladin! Where’s your holier than thou smiting divine power?” Oliver called from behind a chair.

Fen didn’t reply, too busy deflecting the demon’s club with the flat of his blade. He drove his blade deep into the creature’s shoulder but the demonic entity ignored it completely. It gripped him tightly by the armor and lifted off his feet. Fen tried to push the sword deeper but it wasn’t slowing the demon.

The demon bent it shoulder in an uneven angle as it raised its club just above Fen’s head. It gave toothy smile, its fangs glistening in the dark while preparing to deal the finish blow.

It staggered backwards as an arrow struck its eye. It bounced off same as before but the demon was caught unaware and reacted instinctively.

Fen took his chance. He reached into his hood and smashed a vial of clear liquid across the stunned demon’s face.

It howled in pain as steam rolled off its burning face. The demon dropped Fen as it wildly flailed about, smashing anything nearby to splinters.

It shouted in its infernal tongue before crashing into the doorway, breaking a chunk of the wall off and retreating deeper into the house.

Archibald shakily leaned against the wall to catch his breath while Oliver approached Fen, his jaw tense with anger.

“What’s the big idea?” Oliver poked the paladin’s chest “What scam are you running?”

Fen’s face twisted in anger “Scam? How dare you speak to me like that!”

“Stow it.” Oliver snarled “You are not a paladin.”

Fen rose to full height, glaring with unrestrained rage “I AM A PALADIN! THE CHOSEN OF SOLIUS!”

“Former chosen.” Oliver spat out.

The anger drained out of Fen’s eyes only to be replaced by shame.

Oliver clenched his fist “I knew it. This isn't some mission for a higher power. This is a suicide run trying to get back in your god’s good graces! He renounced you, didn’t he?”

Abigail stood rooted in place “Is that a thing?”

“Yeah. It’s a two way street. You devote your life and existence to a god and they grant you the power to do so but if they happen not to agree with how you do things then bye bye divine magic. That’s why he wasn’t smiting it with holy energy.”

Fen said nothing.

“God this is why I hate paladins.” Oliver fumed “You act better than anyone but you’re as a big a sham as me!”

“I am nothing like you.”

“You lost all rights to your high horse pal. Now what’s the plan?”

“The plan?” Fen repeated in confusion.

“Yes focus.” Oliver replied “The plan to deal with the demon. I assume you have one or did you come in here expecting to kill it with your normal boring self?”

Fen scoffed “I am not completely brain dead. Of course I have a plan.”

“Which is?”

“The seal.” Fen awkwardly started “If we can strengthen the seal, we can weaken the demon enough to put it to sleep.”

Oliver rubbed his eyes “And of course you don’t know where it is.”

“It is well hidden for a reason.”

Oliver let out a tired sigh.

“We’ll help” Abigail jumped in “We can’t let that thing escape into the Underground.”

“And we don’t want to die.” Oliver chimed in.

“That too."

Archibald looked uneasy but resigned. This wasn’t what he signed up for but he really didn’t have a choice.

Fen raised an eyebrow “And that is it? You’ll do it out of the goodness of your heart, bard?”

“Of course not” Oliver admitted “But the sooner we get this done, the sooner I don’t have to deal with you.”

“Finally we are agreed” Fen murmured.

Abigail sighed “I wish I didn’t have to deal with Oliver anymore.”

Oliver clapped his hand together, completely ignoring Abigail “Alright, let’s see what we’re working with. How many vials of holy water do you have left?”

Fen blinked in surprise “Three but how did you…?”

“Don’t bother.” Abigail mouthed.

“Alright. Give them to Archie. He can dip his arrows in them.” Fen rolled his eyes sarcastically “And what will I use oh great amazing leader? My sword is not enough to slay the beast and I need time to apply the water as well.”

Oliver stepped closer, staring eye to eye with the paladin as he pushed his lute into his hands “If you lose this, I will kill you.”

“And what am I suppose to do with this? Play a song about friendship and love? Overcharge for a children’s rhythm?” Fen mocked.

“No you idiot.” Oliver pulled away “You beat him back to hell with it.”

Fen stared at him utterly lost.

Oliver knocked on the surface of the lute “It’s magic.”

Fen couldn’t contain his surprise despite his loathing of the bard

“Your lute is magic?”

Oliver rolled his eyes “Yes. It’s not a sword or a spear but at least you’ll be able to hurt him some. At least enough for me and farm girl to find the seal.”

“Me and who now?” Abigail shook her head “Wait, your lute is magic? Why is that important?”

“Demons are naturally resistant to mortal weapons” Fen explained as he held the lute aloft, getting a feel for its weight “It would be like attacking them with a butter knife, Painful but ultimately an empty gesture. But magic, whether spells or items imbued, can bypass their nature. Holy magic would be ideal hence the holy water.”

“But we work with what we got.” Oliver finished “And can you fight farm girl?”

Abigail shifted her foot shamefully.

Oliver snapped his finger “No. Don’t do that. Nothing wrong with not knowing how to fight. I don’t.”

“But you know magic!” Abigail argued “That’s more than me.”

“Look I don’t like you.” Oliver admitted “But beating yourself up isn’t going to save us. Yes I know magic but I’m not going to be tossing fire or lightning out of my fingertips. That’s not how my magic works. Finding that seal is just as important as Archibald’s and Fen’s job.”

Abigail glanced towards Archibald. His face was grim but determined.

“What’s your job Archie?” Abigail asked gently, unable to keep the worry out of her voice.

Archibald punched a fist into his hand.

“You’re planning on fighting? That thing?”

Archibald nodded firmly.

“Archie, you can’t be serious! What if it hurts you? I promised Cecilia I’d keep you safe! Archie…”

Abigail stopped as the archer wrapped his arms tightly around her. It was warm and gentle. Tears formed in her eyes. It felt nice to be hugged again. She hadn’t been hugged in such a long time she forgot how calming it was.

He pulled away, giving her a soft smile.

Abigail still wasn’t happy with the situation but there was little choice left.

“Alright.” Oliver spoke with an edge of finality “While you two keep the demonic asshole distracted, me and farm girl will find the seal and try to strengthen it.”

“Farm girl and I” Abigail corrected.

“Seriously?”

“No, I wanted to mess with you. It’s how I cope.”

Oliver glared “We need to move fast. Once the seal is strengthen we’ll need to make a break for the exit as soon as possible because I am not dealing this place longer than I have to.”

“Do you even know how to strengthen ancient seals?” Abigail asked

“No idea but I’m a quick study.” Oliver admitted.

Abigail glanced out the grime covered windows “That’s not very comforting. And what if those shadowy creatures are out there still?”

“That’s a for later problem. Let’s focus on one life or death situation at a time.”

“Fun” Abigail replied glumly “I’m really enjoying my time in the underground guys.”

“That’s the spirit farm girl!

“I hate you so much right now.”

[darkredehmption]

Take Hold Part 2

#SL #TakeHold #PartTwo 

Written by @OfFeatherNFang and @DamagedBrother 

*~*~*

Mal: 

Sure enough, Vishous beat us back to the manse, and was waiting at the door as I pulled up. He was helping Butch from the back seat before I’d even popped my door, and as the pair vanished back into the manse, I glanced to Zsadist.

At first, his endearment in the car had sent a bolt of relief through me, but everything after that… I tried to hide a frown. It felt off. Something was wrong, or different, and I couldn’t peg it. My talk with Vishous was going to have to wait, because I couldn’t leave things like this with Z. Whatever was wrong, I needed to deal with it /now/.

The fact he’d mentioned us in bed in front of Butch was a new one. It wasn’t that we were shy, per se, but we weren’t exhibitionists either, and after Z’s past, he was solemn and reverent of our time together. It had sounded odd, the casual toss out that we were going to be intimate after this. Almost as odd as him calling Butch ‘Brian’ instead. 

Handing Fritz the keys with a smile and nod of thanks, to get a deep bow of ‘anything you need, Master Mal’ as a response, I plastered a calm and easy smile on my face. Turning toward Zsadist, I tilted my head toward the door to let him know to follow. In the safety of our bedroom we’d have this chat. Maybe this was a new evolution of our relationship, I tried to reason with myself. Was Z finally so comfortable he would say all that? 

Once we were inside, past the mosaic entrance and heading up the stairs, I reached for his hand. It was a natural thing; here, we didn’t have to hide or pretend anything other than what we were. 

Yet the second his hand slipped into mine I felt cold. Dread washed through me, intense and dark, and only decades of experience kept me from reacting at all. My face remained perfectly calm, my gaze easy and focused down the hall, on our bedroom door. Yet it was all wrong. Something was wrong. My Divinity was a pulsing throb inside me, a warning bell that commanded attention. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you earlier,” I murmured instead, glancing sideways at those golden eyes. “Going airborne just seemed the best way to take on the one with the gun.”

Zsadist:

“Nonsense. I’m fine.” I replied automatically as I looked at my male. 

But I wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine.

My body moved swiftly into the bedroom. It seemed like the longer that thing was inside of me, the better it was getting at moving around. Hell it even threw in a grunt or two as it scanned the room. 

[My angel. We are alone at last.]

The sickening voice made my skin crawl, but I could do nothing, say nothing. Only watch from a place that seemed so far away. How long would this go on? 

“You did what you had to do to get the job done. Now everything is okay, and we are alone at last.” My chest rumbles as it produces a growl. Slowly I turn, facing my mate, the one person I wanted to not be around right now. Fuck, if this thing did something to Mal...I...I couldn’t even think of that. No. 

[Shh...My angel. He will be mine.]

My hand twitches, almost like it was gearing up for something, but what? What was its endgame? What did it want with Mal?

[Mine. My angel.]

I wanted to scream. Why couldn’t Mal hear me? Why was I trapped in the vessel and how the fuck do I get out of here? 

Mal:

The door closed behind us, and I let go of Zsadist as he moved further into the room, taking everything in. My emotions warred with my instincts. Every emotion, nay, all my heart, screamed in terror that there was a darkness within my mate. Was that what I had sensed down town? Worse… had it been a demon? Was a demon riding shotgun in my partner? The very idea made my skin crawl, my heart race, and I wanted to be sick, to scream, to blast at him with power and purge the evil away. But that was where emotion was cut off by instinct. 

My hunting instincts made me cold, calm, and severed the link between my head and my heart. I had one shot to get this right - if a demon riding a vampire got loose, it could be catastrophic. 

Moving into the room, I head for the closet, removing some of my weapons as I did. The normal thing we did after every rotation. Setting several on the shelves, I slipped the flask of holy water into my sleeve and glanced back out. As his body turned to face me, I smiled again, 

“Make you a drink?” I offer, heading for our small private collection of booze, to save on having to call Fritz or go to the billiards room all the time. 

It was barely a twitch of my hand to add the shot of holy water to the scotch, and then I was heading toward him with two glass, extending one and arching a brow. 

“Well, I’m glad you weren’t more upset. You’re taking it really well. Maybe we should look at rotations together,” I suggest, lying through my teeth. 

Zsadist:

I watched as my mate disappeared into the closet. Didn’t he know that something was off? I mean, I know we haven’t been together for that long, but Mal knew me better than anyone at this point. He had to know that I wasn’t okay. That there was something inside of me. 

Mal. Help me. Please.

[Shh. My angel. Mine.]

As my body turned to face the most important person in my life, I watched as he moved to grab us a few drinks. My hand automatically reached out for the glass, lifting it to my lips, only to pause and say. 

“Of course. That sounds like a great idea. I think we could handle it just fine. And that way we could be close to each other.”

[Close. Mine. My angel.]

As soon as brim hit my lips, my body froze, tightening up. I heard a loud scream inside my head that didn’t belong to me. No. Not mine. Quickly my hand swung back as I tossed the glass at the wall. Watching as it shattered and flung tiny pieces all over our bedroom. The same hand instantly reaches for one of my daggers. Fisting the hilt as it’s unsheathed from my holster. 

“MY ANGEL!”

It snarls loudly as it lunges for my mate, with the weapon in hand. No. This couldn’t be happening. If Mal dies at the hands of me, I can't live with myself. I would have to find someway to kill myself in return. To end this once and for all. 

Mal:

Even as I put my own glass to my lips I was watching, and the second the holy infused liquid brushed the demon’s lips it was shrieking, hurling the glass away. I was already moving, leaping backward and pulling a dagger of my own as I snarled and bared my fangs.

“You almost succeeded,” I complimented with a dark smile. “Vampires are a little harder to ride, huh? Not surprised. They’re a little more complicated than the cattle you’re used to trotting around in,” I sneer. “But this is where the ride ends. Leave of your own accord and I won’t send you back to the darkest pit of hell I can find.”

I blinked, and from one blink to the next my eyes turned white. I let the power within me swell, feeling it tingle beneath my skin. I’d never exorcised a demon through power alone, and I doubted I could, but if it would spare Zsadist, I’d try. 

That was the problem now, and the demon no doubt knew it. If I attacked it, hurt it, I was hurting my mate. It would bank on that to win this fight. I grit my teeth and steeled myself. One way or another, that thing was leaving Z tonight. I didn’t care how, it was happening.

“Zsadist, if you can hear me, I’m going to get that thing out of you,” I call. “Hold on. Push back. Fight it. Yours is the strongest will I’ve ever known. You’re a fighter! A survivor! Fight it!”

Then the flask was in my hand, and I flung its open lid toward the demon, spraying it with holy water and seeing flesh sizzle as it screamed again. Fuck, please don’t let anyone come to investigate. Please…

Zsadist:

Mal. Fuck, I didn’t know what to do. He told me to fight it, but how? How do I fight something that has completely taken over my body. I couldn’t move, speak, or do anything. 

Suddenly I staggered back as Mal splashed my form with some kind of water. The thing didn’t like it. It screamed and thrashed around as if it got hit with a flamethrower. Was this my chance? Could I finally escape the prison I was in? 

I concentrated on Mal, focusing on him from across the room. As if I could somehow leave my body and crash into his arms. But I couldn’t. I was lost in the pit of darkness by this thing that held me there. 

My body shifts up, hand swiping the blade around as it makes its way towards Mal once again. No. Fight it. You can do this. When the scream escaped my lips, I couldn’t tell if it was from me or it. But suddenly I was knocking Mal forward into the wall. The darkness started to shrink as Mal’s eyes grew white. Was this it? Was it finally leaving my body? 

Then suddenly my arm rose, and I plunged the dagger into the angel’s side. My eyes went wide, the scream ringing in my ears as I took in the scene before me. No. No. This wasn’t real. No way I just stabbed my own mate, the love of my life. No!

Mal:

I could see the struggle, the fight as Zsadist resisted the demon within him. His body stumbled after the holy water, and I faltered for a second. One stupidly long second, as I worried about the man I loved.

Then he was charging forward, the body I knew so intimately slamming me up against the wall as I latched onto whatever skin I could reach. The words started pouring out of me as I held onto him, the exorcism memorised after a lifetime of hunting demons and their ilk. As the power in me surged up I didn’t dare let go, reaching not just for the energy to purge the demon, but the strength to hold on to Zsadist’s soul as well.

I didn’t see the blade until it was too late, and even if I had… I couldn’t let go. The second I broke the connection the demon would either take off, or regain ground. There was no going back. I snarled in between latin words, then pushed on, my power building. My wings appeared without any conscious thought, their weight and power pushing us away from the wall. 

Someone was banging on the door, but I’d had the good sense to lock it. I tuned it out, just as I ignored the pain and the blood pulsing from my side. 

Zsadist… all I cared about… was Zsadist…

There. His soul was a bright, golden thing. I latched onto it tighter as the exorcism built into its crescendo. His body spasmed as I held on, the demon thrashing, and I didn’t feel it as blow after blow struck me, trying to dislodge my grip as my divinity seeped from my body into his. Chasing back the darkness. 

Looking into his eyes, they were no longer gold, but the demon’s black. Even the white of his eyes were gone, and the sight only hardened my resolve as I offered a savage, bloody smile.

“Get. Out.”

I thrust my power through him. The demon screamed. Zsadist was forced to scream with him. And somewhere, someone was shouting bloody murder and getting ready to break down the door.

I didn’t care. The darkness disintegrated, the demon’s essence ripped away and plunged back to hell. And like that, my power winked out, my wings vanishing. My knees trembled, and somehow, I held onto Zsadist. I never took my eyes from his, not as the blackness faded and gold returned. 

“...Nallum?”

Would he forgive me for this? I wondered dazedly. After all this time… my life had finally caught up with us. Made him a slave again to some new monster. 

I was going to be sick…

Zsadist:

It felt like I was being knocked around in my own body. This constant push and pull until suddenly I could feel everything once again. When my hand tightened around the blade, I felt it. Gasping loudly as I look down, watching as blood starts to soak Mal’s shirt. 

“No...no...no, no, no!” I holler as my hand lifts off the dagger. If I knew anything about wounds, I knew it was better to keep the weapon lodged in for the time being. Until we could get him on a table, until we could patch him up. He wasn’t going to die. No. No, he couldn’t. Fuck, not at the hands of me. My demons point and laugh. Mocking me for possibly being the one to end my mate’s life. 

“HELP! FUCK!”

I screamed this time as I frantically looked at my mate. How could he stand there and look so calm. But before either of us could even say anything else, the door busted open. The sound was loud and it echoed through the room as my Brothers rushed in to see the aftermath of what just happened.

Rhage’s eyes went wide. Tohr’s jaw dropped to the damn floor. Phury places a hand over his mouth as he stares at me. His eyes almost asked me silently what happened. As if he didn’t want to believe I just stabbed my own mate in our bedroom. Because clearly we were the only ones around. I couldn’t even find the words to say, but I didn’t need to because soon enough Vishous was pushing forward.

“Alright, let’s not just stand around. Our Brother needs help.” Vishous calls out. 

That was the first time anyone has called Mal that. Sure. He wasn't technically a Brother by ceremony, but he was a warrior and part of this family.

Vishous brings one of Mal’s arms behind his shoulder. Then suddenly it was like everyone was moving into action. Rhage came to help, followed by Tohr. Phury moves over to me as I watch with wide eyes, my mate being quickly maneuvered out of our bedroom. 

Mal:

Zsadist let go of the dagger still hilt deep, but his eyes were gold again, and the words coming out of his mouth were his. The relief that rushed through me was so exquisite I almost cried. Then the door burst in, spilling Brothers into the debris of our fight, and I blinked at them.

Maybe it was the power zap, the fading adrenaline, or the blood loss, but regardless, it felt like there was a massive gap between my brain and my spinal cord. Nothing wanted to cooperate. My body wouldn’t move, and my jaw wouldn’t talk. 

Vishous surged forward, taking charge of the situation. Too late I realised that there’d been judgement on their faces; a condemnation. My blood was on Z’s hands… literally. But it hadn’t been his fault… they had to know that.

The second my feet left the floor and I was being carried out, my brain seemed to catch up. The wound screamed a protest as the dagger cut a little further, twisted a little deeper, and I choked on the sound so it didn’t escape. 

“Vishous… it wasn’t Z…” I manage hoarsely, locking eyes with the tech genius until he met my stare. “It wasn’t… Z… he was… possessed…” I manage, grunting as they took the stairs fast. Already, the blackness was edging into my vision. 

Someone was already calling down to the med wing, alerting the staff of an incoming from the manse, of all places. Vishous didn’t shake off my words though; it was one of the things I liked about the guy. When I’d told him about the other nasties that went bump in the night, he hadn’t scoffed, or sneered. He’d straight up asked how to deal. I had mad respect for that.

“Ward… the manse… Protect everyone…”

It was getting harder and harder to speak. My tongue felt thick and heavy, and reflexively I looked for Zsadist. Even as the lights of the tunnel passed overhead and I slid further toward unconsciousness, I looked for my mate. Had he come down? Was he alright?

“Zsadist… Nallum…”

Zsadist:

As they took Mal away, I couldn’t help but to just stand there and stare at the retreating forms as they quickly rushed him downstairs.

Then it was like all hell broke loose. 

Wrath was barking orders. Shellans were rushing out of their bedrooms. The shutters were dropping, and locks clicked into place as the mansion went into full lockdown mode. But I couldn’t help but to just stand there and replay what just happened in my head over and over again. It wasn’t until I felt Phury’s hand on my arm that I snapped out of the trance. 

“Z...Are you okay? I mean…” He looked at me as if he was trying to figure out if it was actually me he was staring at. 

“It’s me.”

It was all I said. No reason to stand here and try to sugarcoat things. Demon or not, I just stabbed my mate. How the fuck could I live with myself now knowing I did that? What if I hit some internal organ and he was currently bleeding out on a stretcher? 

“Zsadist...I think you should go downstairs and be close to Mal. He’s probably worried sick.” Phury murmured as he gave my arm a squeeze. 

I wanted to. I wanted to hold him in my arms and kiss every inch of his magnificent body. But how could I even face him, face the reality of what just happened in our sacred place. 

“Zsadist.” Phury’s voice turned stern, causing me to lift my head to gaze at him. “You need to go downstairs and be with your mate. This is not your fault. Go before I drag you down myself.” 

I stared at him for another heartbeat or so before I was moving out of the bedroom. My ears tuned everything out as I made, what seemed to be a long ass journey, down the stairs. It’s almost like there was a high pitched ringing in my ear, and all I could hear was that and the heavy thumps of my heart.

I walked what felt like a mile long road, down the tunnels of the mansion. Every step I counted in my head, feeling beads of sweat form over my forehead. How could I have let this happen? Sure, I didn’t seek out a demon, but I could have tried harder to stop it. My personal demons laughed. Another point for them, and about a hundred less for me. 

When I finally reached the med suite, I gazed into the small window at the door. There he was, my mate, bloody as he laid out on the stretcher. Vishous and the team of doctors were huddled around him, working as fast as they could to get him patched up. What could I even say to anyone in this house after what I just did?

“Hey. None of that now. I know that look from you all too well.” 

My head turns to the right to see Butch standing before me. He must have been in charge of securing the pit while the others were checking the grounds outside. 

“Just take a deep breath. Everything will be okay, I promise you.” He continues as he peers in the window with me. “He’s been asking for you nonstop. I’m glad you are here and will be here when he’s patched up.” 

I didn’t reply. There was nothing for me to say. And besides, my Brothers knew me well enough to not get offended when I didn’t speak back to them. 

Mal:

When the darkness won out, with a little help from something in an IV line, I tumbled through it all without wings. The free fall was sickening. It’d pause abruptly, like slamming into a wall, only for that wall to turn into images of Zsadist, black eyed and powerless as demons circled him and laughed at me.

I tried reaching for my power but it was numb. Tried reaching for him but he was always just too far. Then I’d be falling again. Falling away from him, and any chance I had at saving him. 

When I opened my eyes, a slow blink of trying to process the room, the people, the sights, the smells, I automatically tensed. There were no black eyes, no demons, no blood or sulfur. So that was a plus. The antiseptic smell burning out everything else… not so much. 

Then Vishous appeared above me and I groaned softly.

“Don’t take this the wrong way…” I manage, my voice hoarse and making me long for a sip of water, “but you’re not the male I wanted to see…”

Vishous smirked. Naturally.

“That’s the thanks I get for helping patch up your insides? I thought angels were virtuous n’ patient n’ grateful n’ all that shit?”

“Fuck off. You met me?” I groan, trying to sit up only to get a hand to the chest and a hard push back down. Okay, so it was probably no strength at all, but my weak ass hit the gurney bed no problem as I gave him a filthy look.

“Place is warded up like you asked,” he said quietly, switching from humor to serious in a blink. It took my own exhausted brain a second to process it, then I was nodding, relaxing. “Those symbols. Lines of salt. And everyone is wearing one of those charms you suggested I make or order.” Three guesses as to which one happened - V would never trust safety to an outside source. 

“And Zsadist?” I whispered, my heart wrenching as the anxiety, the pain, and the fear I had for my mate threatened to cripple me. It didn’t matter that I was the one on the gurney; if going to him, wherever he was, salvaged our bond I’d do it. I’d crawl. “Is he okay? Where is he? Can I go to him?”

Vishous stepped back, taking his hand off my chest as he gestured toward the other side of the room. 

“Ask him yourself.”

Zsadist:

I watched in silence as my mate woke up. He was alive. Everything was okay, and he would be fine. So why wasn’t I racing over to be at his side? The truth was I still felt like shit. Even though it was the demon who plunged the dagger into my mate’s chest, I was the one holding the blade. 

The image replayed in my head over and over again like a broken record. I’ll never forget that look on Mal’s face, and all that blood. I cringed as I dropped my head and eavesdropped on Vishous and my mate’s conversation. Mal sounded pretty much normal and ready to get back to life like nothing happened. But something did happen, I stabbed him. 

Fuck.

When I hear my name, I lift my head, catching my male’s gaze as he stares at me. What the fuck do I say to him? Hey Nallum, sorry for stabbing you. Hope you are okay? I snorted at my thoughts before pushing off of the wall. 

“You should get some sun soon. That will help you more than anything. Maybe Lassister can get you outside for a little Vitamin D.”

I nod as I move to grab Mal a glass of water. It was strange, it’s like I could tell he was thirsty. Handing over the plastic cup, keeping my gaze elsewhere. It’s like I couldn’t look at him right now. If I did, I would see that image again. So much blood. Shaking my head as I clear my throat. 

“So he’s good?” I murmur to my Brother. 

Vishous nods as he lights up a blunt. “Yeah, he will be fine. Definitely should get some sun, true?” 

Mal:

Zsadist met my eyes once, and that was all he could manage. Still, once was all I needed to know the guilt eating him alive was damn near relentless. As if he’d had any say in what happened. As if it was his fault and not mine.

“V, give us a minute yeah?”

I sipped from the glass my mate had brought me, so attuned to my needs. And I was grateful. It meant whatever bond we had was unbroken. No demon had soured that, and no demon would. As Vishous muttered about checking supplies and letting the others know I was still, in fact, living and breathing, I waited until the door swung shut behind him before I held my hand out to Zsadist.

“I’m sorry, Nallum,” I whispered fervently, my heart bleeding sincerity into every word. “That… that should never have happened. I should’ve prepared you. Protected you. I was… foolish and naive. I thought leaving my life behind meant it wouldn’t find me here. But it did. And it hurt you…”

I hung my head, the sorrow and pain of that truth almost tangible. My mate had been a slave for a good chunk of his life, and in my desperation to ignore the hunting life I hadn’t protected him from becoming a slave to something worse than the mistress. It was a shame I was going to carry until my last breath. 

“I will /never/ let one of them take you from me again,” I vowed, my fury at some denizen of hell getting to ride shotgun in /my/ mate setting my heart rate monitor to race. “On my life, I promise this.”

I looked up, willing him to see it in my eyes, the promise. I couldn’t keep the hunting life away anymore, but I could damn sure protect my loved ones from this ever happening again. 

“...please… please don’t be angry or… or look like that…” I add, my voice cracking with the emotion. “This… this was my fault, Nallum. Mine. Not yours. And this…” I waved a hand at the bedding covering my bandages. “This is the price I /should/ pay for my fucking arrogance. I’m so sorry…”

Zsadist: 

I took my male’s hand as he extended his arm forward. Feeling shitty or not, I was not gonna deny my male my touch. Slowly our fingers laced, but I didn’t look at him till the end of his speech. His fault? This wasn’t his fault. He didn’t stab himself with the blade. 

I did.

“Stop. Don’t say shit like that.” I shook my head but tightened my hand in his. That image was burned into my head and it couldn’t be unseen. Yeah, a demon got me, but I let it in. I let it take over my body and did nothing to get it out. Sure, it was out of my control, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I could have done something to stop it.

“They all looked at me...like I was the enemy. I…” My hand fell, but somehow I found the strength to keep standing even though I wanted to drop to the floor.

“I’m so sorry.” I croaked. 

Suddenly I had a rush of emotions, as if I have been holding them in, and now they all bubbled up to the surface. My knees gave out as I dropped down onto them, fingers tightly clutching the bed sheets as I felt unshed tears in my eyes. Then slowly, one escaped.

All my life, I’ve kept shit in. Let it consume me till I was barely breathing. But somehow, I couldn’t keep it in anymore. Imagine if he would have died. Died from the hands of me. How could I even live with myself with that blood on my hands. How would my Brothers even look at me then? 

“I’m so sorry…” I said again as my head fell to the bed. What could I even do to make it up to him? How could I even want to walk out into this world and let that shit happen again? Hunter or not, this was me. Cursed in this life where anything bad follows. 

Mal:

I thought I heard my heart audibly crack as Zsadist dropped to his knees beside the bed, a single tear sliding free of his golden eyes and running down his cheek. There was no injury as I slid my legs off the side of the gurney, no pain as whatever vampire bonded male jumpstart raced through my system. There was only Z, and the agony he was in, and my desperate need to make it right. 

Tugging all the machinery along or closer, wires and chords pulling tight, I knelt beside the male and wrapped my arms around him. As if on cue my wings were there, though they lacked their usual… lustre… after I’d blasted all my power kicking the demon out, but they folded around him as if a shield. To protect him.

“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” I said fiercely, reaching both hands to cradle his cheeks, forcing his gaze to meet mine. “Nothing! This isn’t something you beat with sheer strength of will. They are infernal creatures, Z! Nothing you’ve ever dealt with! And thanks to my dumbass, nothing you’ve ever been trained for.”

Pausing, my side twinged and I ignored it, too intent on my mate. If Vishous came back in he was probably going to have a moderate to small bitch fest. 

“I know it wasn’t you,” I whispered, leaning in to brush my lips to his. “I know you would /never/ hurt me. So please… please don’t take this blame on yourself. Fighting off a demon… it’s not done. It takes years of practice just to exorcise one or repel it,” I add softly, “never mind possession.”

Another kiss.

“I love you, mine. Please… please say you love me…”

Zsadist:

In a flash, as if he had no injuries, my male was on the floor beside me. Then in a blink, I felt the heavyweight of his wings around me. We were in this bubble that made me feel like we were shielded from the world. Fuck, I could stay in these wings forever. 

I stared into his eyes as he kissed me, head heavy in his hands. “Of course I love you.” I clear my throat. “You are my everything. My entire life. Fuck, why do you think I’m broken right now? To think that I could have killed you…” I say in a rough tone. 

If Vishous walked in on us, I would go all bonded male and growled until he backed the fuck up. My arms quickly tightened around his waist. To think that I wanted to keep my distance from him when all of this went down. Phury was right. I needed to be here for my mate. He needed me just as much as I needed him. 

And then my lips met his in a passionate kiss. My tongue explored his mouth as if it was the first time we kissed. He was all I wanted to taste, to breath in, to hold.

My male. Mine. 

Slowly I pulled back to catch my breath, my forehead pressing into his own as my hands explored his body. Suddenly I didn’t want him out in the daylight. I wanted him in our bed so I could hold him all night and hopefully wash away the events that took place tonight. But I couldn’t be selfish right now.

“You need sun.” Was all I said. 

Mal:

The kiss soothed over every ragged, angry piece of me that wallowed in the guilt of his possession. Even my gut stopped its angry throbbing to offer up only mild complaints. At his words I gave a slow nod, easing back and clinging to the gurney to pull myself back to my feet. My wings, as if sensing the moment was done, vanished back into the ether. 

“I’ll have Lassiter come with,” I said faintly, shifting until most of my weight was back on the bed and I could look at mine male better. “Once I don’t need all the bells and whistles attached to me, I’ll come back to bed,” I promise. “Rather spend the time healing with you than down here. My nose hurts from the smell,” I admit, lifting a hand and rubbing the back of it against my nose. 

Shifting back, I rested my head on the pillow and smiled ruefully. 

“You could pull up a gurney. Stay with me till dawn. Once Lass gets here, you can head back to our room? And then as soon as I’m healed,” I added, my voice stronger, “I’m teaching you my trade.”

Zsadist:

My brows rose as I heard about Mal teaching me a thing or two about hunting demons. Which spiked an idea in my head. As I turned to grab another gurney, I wheel it over so it was pressed up right against his own. 

“You know, we have classrooms here. We used to have a trainee program, where we taught some young males and females how to fight Lessers.” I murmur as I climb into the bed, settling beside my male. “Why not teach the whole brotherhood about these demons? I mean, if they are going to be around it’s a threat, and we need to handle them.”

My hands lifted to fix all the wiring around my mate, making sure it was just how it was before he leaped off the bed. “I can talk to Wrath about it later.” Nods as I finally rest my hand on Mal’s thigh, gazing at the bandages that covered his lower half. 

Vishous was smart enough to not come back. He probably was checking in on the others and giving us a little more space. Once Mal fell asleep, I would text Lassiter and let him know what’s up once the sun was out. 

Slowly I lifted my golden eyes to meet the eyes of my lover. He seemed more at ease now that I was beside him. “Get some rest, true?” I leaned in to press a kiss to the side of his head. 

Mal:

Turning over the idea of teaching an actual class on demons and the like, rather bemused by the concept even if it was the most logical, I settled at the kiss to the side of my head. 

Exhausted as I was, the threat of being an educator faded to the background as I half turned on the gurney and shuffled as close to Zsadist as I could. Already, his scent was taking over the antiseptic smell, soothing me even further. As my eyes fell shut, I found a spot that was both comfortable and didn’t aggravate my injury. Last thing I needed was Vishous or the med team bursting back in here to sew me up like a torn pair of pants.

“Y’think… they’d do it?” I mumbled, sliding a hand across the small space and fisting it in my male’s shirt. “Learn… from me?”

I don’t know why I thought they wouldn’t. Maybe because I wasn’t a real Brother. I was just a fighter helping them out, mated to one of their warriors. The bastard offspring of a vanishing angel and a Chosen. But after tonight… I suspected they’d consider it. And if nothing else, I’d teach Zsadist. He deserved to know. Hell, maybe I’d even suggest the tattoo. To prevent possession ever again…

Yawning, I felt sleep drag me down, the meds helping along the way. This time, there were no nightmares. No falling. Just the warmth of my mate at my side. 

#EndSL #TakeHold 

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Beside The Dying Fire (part eleven)

[DnD AU with the tour!verse]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Word count: 2113

TW: Blood

---------------------

Katherine let out a sharp yelp as she was suddenly thrown across the dunes. The Sand Snake she had been riding does a sharp U-turn and dashed back over to her. Both it and Catalina looked thoroughly amused.

  “You good?” Catalina peered down at her. 

Katherine spat out some sand. “Yeah,” She grunted, rising to her feet.

Sand Snake surfing was a lot harder than the Aasimars made it out to be. Way harder. She could barely even balance on the round board they had to stand on, and the harness pulled tightly at her hips as the serpent glided through the sand, but this mode of transportation was much better than walking, so she got back on.

  “Will YOU be okay?” Katherine asked, eyeing Catalina’s stomach.

Catalina laughed. “I am a PRO, Kat. I’ll be fine.” She pat the side of her bright red Sand Snake. “Come on, let’s keep going.”

The Snakes took off once again, and Katherine jerked forward with them. She wobbled on the board, grabbing onto the rope bridled to the horn of her serpent for balance. She felt like she was gliding through water.

  “What exactly are we looking for out here?” Katherine asked. All she saw in every direction were sand dunes, cacti, shrubs, and more sand dunes. There were a few pillars of old, long-fallen buildings, but nothing more.

  “Uhh… I’m not actually sure!” Catalina answered her, riding next to her. “There’s the giant scorpions and serpents, but I don’t think they’re the beasts we’re looking for. There was also the Brazen Bull, but it’s been dead for centuries.” She thought for a moment. “Oh, and there’s Parthenais, Lord of The Skies!”

  “Excuse me?”

A roar shook the dunes.

An ear splitting roar that might have rendered Katherine deaf if she were any closer. She instinctively reared back, nearly falling off of the board, and closed her eyes when sand billowed straight into her face. When they open again, they go wide at the sight of the beast lumbering in the distance.

Up ahead was a circular plate of sandstone raised above the ground, bearing thriving palm trees and lush greenery. Atop it sat a giant creature, its brass-colored scales shimmering in the sunlight. It stretched out huge, triangular wings that connected all the way down to the base of its webbed tail, making them look even bigger than they already were. Then, it pumped its giant wings and leapt into the air, blocking out the sun with its massive body.

The serpents came to a halt as the Brass Dragon swooped down in front of them. A tidal wave of sand splashed up into the air, and Katherine had to shield her face away from the spray. When she recovered, she looked up at the towering beast looming over her.

After a moment of staring with glittering orange eyes, the dragon moved again, slowly lowering its head to bump Catalina affectionately. Catalina laughed loudly and threw her arms around its large head. 

  “Parthenais!” Catalina cried in glee. “It’s so good to see you again!”

The dragon, Parthenais, growled happily. It flicked its small ears towards Katherine and looked at her.

  “Oh, this is Katherine,” Catalina introduced her. “She’s my friend.”

Parthenais extended her snout out to Katherine and nudged her gently before churring in a sort of approval and turning back to Catalina.

  “I’m sorry I was gone for so long,” Catalina said, stroking the scaly plates curving from the sides of Parthenais’ head. “I just had to get away from my dumb family.”

Parthenais rumbled. Slowly, she got down on her front knees, lowering her huge body to lay like a horse on the ground, tucking both legs underneath herself. Folding her massive wings in close and curling her tail inwards, she now looked like a peaceful and happy giant scaly dragon loaf in the dunes. Katherine had to shield her eyes again when sand exploded up into the air for a second time upon the dragon deciding to lounge in front of her and Catalina.

  “You never said you had a pet dragon,” Katherine said to Catalina.

Catalina laughed. “You never asked!” She said back. She looked up at Parthenais. “Par isn’t really my pet. More like a friend.” She scratched under Parthenais’ chin.

Parthenais leaned forward and nudged Catalina’s belly with her nose. Catalina laughed lightly.

  “I’m gonna be a mom soon, Par,” Catalina told the dragon. “But first I have to save the world!” She grinned. “So, have you seen anything suspicious around here? Our mission is to slay the beasts in each of the territories, and we’re starting here.”

Parthenais churred, then lowered one wing. Catalina perked up and clambered onto her back, while Katherine just stared at her with wide eyes. Catalina laughed.

  “What are you waiting for? Come on!”

Katherine had never thought she would ever ride a dragon, yet here she now was.

  “Oh my god!!!” She screamed as Parthenais zipped through the clear blue sky. She gripped tightly onto one of the ridges along the dragon’s back, shrieking. Catalina howled with laughter at her side.

  “Isn’t this incredible?!” Catalina shouted over the wind whipping past them.

  “This is insane!!” Katherine cried.

  “I know!!!”

Parthenais wheeled around in the sky, nearly flinging Katherine off, and landed heavily in the sand. They were now in front of a narrow valley carved into from Highland Cliffs, opening up into the mesas above. The smell of roasting meat whisked out through the gorge.

  “Something is in there?” Catalina asked Parthenais, and Parthenais bobbed her head with a growl. “Alright. We’ll look into it. Come on, Kat.”

Katherine and Catalina ventured into the valley. Katherine was surprised to find that it was a lot cooler in there than out in the dunes, most likely because of the rocky overhangs blocking out the sun from above. Shifting sand turned to sturdy sandstone beneath their feet as they walked through the gorge, deeper and deeper until they came to a small clearing. Several stone shelves jutted out from the wall, sprinkling down sand in golden waterfalls. White tents were set up on one of the larger platforms around a fire, which had been burned out and abandoned. Strange sculptures made from dried wet sand formed squatting wolf-pigs on almost every ledge, staring down at them with dulled coal eyes. Strings of bones and feathers were strung up from wall-to-wall, rattling softly in the breeze. A stone entrance lied ahead, beneath an overhang, where the smell of meat was coming from.

Catalina clenched her fists at her side. “This is one of Henry’s strongholds. He’s fucking set up on my land.” She growled. “We have to take it out, Kat. We can’t let them stay here.”

  “I know,” Katherine said. “But let’s be smart about this, okay? We should just rush in there; we don’t know how many there are inside.”

Catalina took a deep, calming breath and nodded. “Right. Got it. Let’s make a plan and kill these bastards.”

--

One of the wolf-pig statues fell from a ledge and shattered into sandy pieces across the red stone floor. It wasn’t very noisy when it broke apart, but it had hit a strand of bones when it fell and alerted one of the guards inside. The human man went to go investigate, and got a chunk of rock put through his throat when Katherine jumped down from the ledge. When the second guard from inside, a Gith man, heard the commotion, Catalina snuck up behind him and slit his throat before he could yell for the others.

  “Come on,” Catalina whispered.

They slowly slunk inside the large circular room where a rock pedestal stood at the very center. A boar was roasting on a spit over a fire, turning slowly- the source of the smell. All the soldiers inside whipped their head around, and Katherine reached out to the land, and the wind, and the very heat of the sun cradled in the ground’s memory. She clenched her shaking fists and unleashed them all. 

The shabby tents set up against the walls quaked and lost structure, toppling in on themselves while several of the soldiers were impaled by stone spikes that shot out of the ground. The wind buffeted those who tried to escape the chaos and kept the unfortunate souls corralled in the center of the fray.

She spied a high elf shaman, old as time itself, attempting to shout his ritual words over the din, but the wind cut off his words and a vortex surrounded him, choking the air from his lungs.

Eventually the righteous anger of the earth subsided, and what was left were shambles. Many of the soldiers lay unmoving, choked and bludgeoned to death by the Wind Wall spell, while a few crawl about and attempt to rouse their fallen allies or see to their own wounds. Organs and shiny red blood dripped down from stone spikes, pooling across the ground. Catalina wiped her sword’s stained blade against the fur armor of one of the fallen men. Neither of them felt guilty for their actions; Henry’s soldiers brought this fury down upon themselves from the moment they joined his army, and they were merely the vessel.

Beneath the smell of roasting meat, was the smell of blood. Not fresh blood. Old, decaying blood. There was a banner of a wolf-pig up on the wall, and Katherine swept it aside, revealing a small passageway. The smell of death hit her in a thick wave and she wrinkled her nose.

She and Catalina walked down the rocky hallway and into a small room. The smell of death was much stronger in there.

  “I don’t know if I want to light a torch, Kat…”

But Catalina did, and her light shone on a stalagmite, the hair of its occupant casting shadows like sharp quills on the blood-spattered wall behind it. Katherine stepped forward, overtaken by morbid curiosity.

The person’s head hung back at an unnatural angle, and his chest was still. Long, sinuous wounds ran in bloody furrows down the victim’s back.

  “They tore his wings out.”

Catalina’s light shone down to the Aasimar’s slumped form. The feathers usually on the shoulder blades had been brutally ripped out, leaving gaping crimson holes in the flesh.

Suddenly, Catalina careened over to the side and vomited on the floor. Katherine turned to her with a worried frown and began to rub her back, sweeping her hair out of the way.

  “Are you alright?” Katherine asked softly.

  “Shit,” Catalina whispered, wiping a hand over her mouth. “This shit is so fucking wrong. My people-- He was my--” She shook her head, spitting out some bile. “Sorry. I lost my shit for a moment.”

  “It’s alright, love,” Katherine assured her. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

They quickly walked out of the stronghold and through the valley, where Parthenais was waiting. They climbed back onto the dragon’s back, and Catalina asked to go back to Aragon. Her expression was furious.

  “How come Parthenais didn’t just go and kill those men?” Katherine asked during the fly back.

  “Par doesn’t kill living things,” Catalina answered. “Unless it’s for food, of course. So that’s why we had to do it.” She clenched her fists. “And I’m glad for that, too. Those bastards should be dying by my hand for what they’ve done.”

The moment Parthenais landed in front of Aragon, Catalina was off the dragon’s back and running through the city. Katherine raced after her, and stumbled into the palace to find Catalina already yelling at her parents.

  “He’s here! Henry is on our land!”

The King and Queen blinked at her. Katherine came up next to Catalina as she continued to shout.

  “Lower your voice, child,” Ferdinand said.

  “What are you talking about?” Isabella asked.

  “Henry! The evil king who’s killing everyone and started a war! He’s here in Braze!” Catalina said. “Kat and I just went to one of his strongholds and took it out. They KILLED one of our people! TORTURED HIM!”

  “Oh, we know,” Isabella said. 

  “That was Ilam, wasn’t it?” Ferdinand looked to his wife for confirmation, and she nodded.

  “Yes. We handed him over a week ago when he kept spying on the stronghold.” Isabella said. “I guess he got what he wanted in the end. Got to go inside their base.”

Catalina was tense at Katherine’s side, and Katherine could practically see the gears turning in her head as she pieced the information together. Her eyes widened.

  “Mother, Father,” The princess whispered, “what are you talking about?”

Isabella looked at Catalina calmly and said, “We work for Henry.”