#piss is like a death trap. i think i just broke all me bones. wait examining my arm why is there straight up a scar here now. lame as HELL

[songtocomus]

bunk beds are so frightening. unhand me foul beast

[crazy-shits-post]

Why? (TW)

Alexander laid in the snow, fully preparing for a frozen and painful death.

His heart couldn't take it anymore.

-

"Alexander, sweet angel, stay with me, you cannot bear the cold."

"I'll be quite well, dear one. I promise you."

John's big hands reached for the other's cold ones, holding it before he quickly pulled away. The blonde was slightly surprised and even a bit afraid of how much he could feel the bones in his hands. Alexander was skinny, but it was more, much more.

Alex, terrified that John might catch on. Quickly kissed his cheek and left, not bothering to even pull down his sleeves.

His stomach growled, his cut ached. He wanted it to be over.

-

John always danced with death and romanized it. At first, Alexander scolded him for it, but over time, he too grew to love her.

All the times she hugged him and tried to pull him from this terrible life. His fevers, the hurricane, the river. The arms weren't strong enough for him. Nothing ever stopped Alexander Hamilton.

But maybe she might be tighter this time.

-

One time, he was at medical waiting for John, who acted a fool during battle. As he was waiting, he witnessed a man on a cot having a seizure. It was the hottest day of August, and many men had dropped like flies from heat stroke.

The man looked so sick. Alexander, as much as he was frightened by the scene, covered his mouth and looked on. The doctor rushed over to help. The man was pale, making strange sounds like those of an injured animal. His face was twisted with pain and confusing, all the while shaking so horribly the cot moved under him.

Then, the shaking stopped. The man's mouth hung open, and he fell into her hug. The doctor, like he did with all patents, covered him up with a white cloth and bowed his head for a few short seconds before rushing off to attend to another screaming man.

Alexander felt so overwhelmed with emotion. He felt pity but also relief. That man wasn't in pain anymore. He looked peaceful. He actually burned with envy and sadness. He wanted that peace, yet he knew how selfish he was being. He felt so bad, in fact, he covered his face and began to cry.

John had returned from getting his now broken arm taken care of. Already pissed off from the fact that he wouldn't be able to fight for a while and the pain, he quickly walked over to Hamilton, who always waits for him.

He found him weeping into his hands next to the covered body. His mood instantly washed off as he hugged him with his good arm. He rubbed his back and told him it was alright and how that man was safe. Alexander wiped his tears and walked with him back to their tent, hiccuping and sniffing while John tried to console him.

Jealously is a blessing in disguise.

-

He lost control. Alexander tried to keep it together, but he just couldn't. He wept and hugged his knees. What was a man to do when he felt less than the ground below him?

His stomach growled. It needed food. He skipped lunch and dinner to write, but now his body craved a little something. Since he couldn't control death, he could control food. He punched his stomach each time it growled, always smiling.

-

One night, he told Lafayette about how he was feeling. Expecting kindest of all his friends to hug him and express empathy, it came to a smack in the face when the Frenchman slapped him and told him off for being so selfish.

Think about John, he said. Think about "Papa" Washington. Think about me. Think about your friends. Think about your country.

Hamilton stormed off, tears threatening to fall. He felt even more ashamed. He didn't feel like he belonged anywhere. He hid behind a tree and wept into his bruised and skinny knees all through the snowy night.

-

His body wasn't a fan of winter. He became ill after his night of crying. With a damp rag on his forehead, the bed trapped him under its blanket as he shook with fever for three days before it finally broke.

While sick, Lafayette came to visit and apologize, but Alexander yelled at him to piss off. John, none the wiser of before, apologized on behalf of his lover and blamed the fever for his out of character fit.

Once he was gone, Alexander began to cry. John, still under the belief it was all the fever's doing, held him and consoled him until the weeping stopped.

-

The entire army was gossiping about an unidentified redcoat who committed suicide by jumping off a bridge.

Alexander felt even more jealous.

-

Oh dear, Washington had seen his cuts. He acted like he didn't, but the redhead knew he did by the split second facial expression when his sleeve was rolled down. He must've told John because the second he was back in the tent the Southerner demanded to see his arm. He tried to fight it, but the other was bigger and stronger than him.

Once it was out in the open, he didn't dare look at John. He expected another scolding, maybe even another slap. Instead, he had arms around him and a head on his shoulder. They didn't say anything else, just a very, very tight hug.

He wished it was her instead.

-

The times that Alexander was allowed on the battlefield were rare, mainly due to the fact that Washington didn't want his "son" and his best writer dead.

But on the day he did, he took John's example and acted a fool, taking every cut and bullet with a shining smile. It was funny. The very action that the blonde always does made the other always gently scold him, but now he was doing the same thing and enjoying every minute of it.

By the time the battle was over, Alexander couldn't even move his head. Two people had to carry him by his arms to the doctor, who spent over an hour fixing him.

When finished and able to walk again, John was the one waiting for him, unbelievably unharmed. He was helped back to the tent and received a gentle scolding.

Please, Alexander. he said with a concerned tone. I know what you're attempting, and I beg of you to stop.

Alright, the other empty promised.

No more battles for you. Washington later said. I'm already worrying for you, I don't wish to lose you.

Oh dear.

-

One night, Alexander had the darkest thought to date.

John was fast asleep, absolutely exhausted from depression and battle. Hamilton stood over him, a knife behind his back.

He could kill him right now. John can't fight him if he's sleeping so wonderfully.

He's already suicidal. They both are. If he kills him, his misery would be over. No more weeping fits, no more pain. With him gone, Alexander could kill himself without worrying.

He actually seriously considered it for five minutes before coming back to his senses and quietly throwing away the knife after he cut his fingers for such thoughts.

He didn't trust himself with John anymore. He didn't trust himself with anything anymore. Such a monster. Wanting to kill his beloved for his selfish benefit. John could be very happy at times, and his bright smile could melt even the coldest of hearts, and Alexander was going to take it anyway.

He knew it had to be now, no more pushing it off for tomorrow. Either he was going to kill himself or someone else, and he already knew which it had to be. It will be easy. Just lay in the snow until tomorrow morning and will be over.

He had to leave immediately before he changed his mind. He made a right face and began to leave, alas John awoke.

"Alexander, sweet angel, stay with me, you cannot bear the cold."

-

By the next morning, Alexander Hamilton was near frozen to death. Someone found him just as the winter nearly took his last breath and was immediately brought into the nurse.

After ages of hot baths, shocks, gasps, and now a fever, he was brought back to his tent. He didn't know where he was until he felt his body being pulled into a hug and somebody's, John's, voice begging him to wake up.

-

Hours and hours later, Alexander whimpered. That whimper was music to John's ears.

"Dear boy!" The Southerner gasped while stroking his still frozen hair. "Alexander, I nearly lost you!" Then the scolding. "What were you thinking?! What has brought you to do something so dangerous!"

Still cold, the usual cheerful voice was nothing but shaky and pathetic, stammering and yelping about all the depression and worthlessness it felt.

"I can't control it, Jackie! I'm worthless!"

John, having had loaded guns in his voice and had faced death many times with a smirk, suddenly felt very frightened, "You are everything to me. Those redcoats are the worthless ones, never you!"

"I am, I am! Oh Jackie, why is death frightened of me?! I give it so many chances!"

"Alexander, no! Live forever, I beg of you! I cannot bear to lose another loved one! I will not bury you as well!"

Oh, how they longed to hold each other. "Johnny, I don't know if I can live another day!"

John, almost frantic and on the verge of tears, walked closer to him. As a natural instinct, Alexander went to stand and immediately fell. He whimpered and succumbed to his fever, feeling too weak and fragile to even look at Laurens as he rushed to pick him up and cradle him.

"Please, sweet angel, I love you with all my heart. I love you, I love you, I love you..." His voice cracked at the last you when tears finally started to flow.

Alex wept into his shoulder, feeling so worthless that death wouldn't even take him. He held him tight. Alexander Hamilton, the monster, that's who he was.

"Forgive me..." His voice was so soft that John had to listen closely to understand him.

"All is forgiven." The taller kissed his forehead. "Stay alive, darling."

Alex snuggled into Laurens' embrace, cold yet warm. He was a monster, but at least he was a controlled one. He deserved death, but the one person he nearly killed didn't want him gone.

This wasn't fair.

[chezzkidsarchive]

One thing I want from horror media is a character or concept that isn't scary or looks intimidating intentionally.

I think some good aspects to use in horror around childhood is the uncanny valley. Skinamarink had something going on that hits well, along with the original Child's Play film.

Call me a little fucking hater for saying this but I think right now in most fucking media the 1980s is way too overutilized and just milks all of the cool things about it. It's gone. It's done.

Stranger Things and It 2017 was good but we as a society need to move away from the 80's as a time period.

Nobody ever fucking talks about how genuinely terrifying the 1990s were looking back on them to a point where it's almost funny.

There is so much untapped potential in the idea of the monster under the bed, or playground rumors outside of video games, like Mexican Jumping Beans actually being alive or the kid on Double Dare who broke their arm open during filming and you could see the bone.

Early internet was a nightmare with viruses, screamers and the anonymity of things like AOL. The amount of Weird Food that existed like Taco Bell Lunchables, that could easily be a modern Soylent Green or the toy fads.

The 1990's has a concerning amount of toys that could burn you, scalp you and pluck your eyes out. The Snacktime Cabbage Patch Doll gave hundreds of kids nightmares, people temporarily thought Tamagotchis were beeping messages in morse code, Skydancers would regularly throw themselves into fires and off cliffs.

I think it would be unbelievably fucked up to do a sequel to The Stuff but with Flarp or some shit from Halloween 3 but with a Viewfinder that stabs your eyes in or something.

There is so much inherent danger to the 1990s that people do not ever talk about and I really wish they would.

People back then were so fucking paranoid and then 9/11 kicked it completely off the ramp and made it a million times worse. Most of English-speaking countries were dead set convinced that Furbies could record conversations and give it to the USSR or something.

Everyone was completely pissing their pants over the idea of subliminal messaging, and completely terrified of things like the paid phone services like Freddy Freaker.

Max Headroom is right there. If done correctly someone could make a mascot similar to what happened with Bartmania and start a borderline cult with the idea of tie-in merchandise.

Don't forget about the fact that for almost a good 2 years McDonald's was routinely giving away cups with uranium in them, or the Burger King pokeballs that suffocated several people.

Even just branching outside the US, there's good ideas for horror. Mr. Blobby had a mascot costume that horrified people, the weird universal hate about how unnerving the Teletubbies were. Literally any scary Thomas the Tank Engine compilation has dozens of ideas.

Angela Anaconda is one thing that is still a childhood media trauma staple, The Ring, Delicatessen, there's so many good inspirations without dipping into the mundane.

Legends of the Hidden Temple was a death trap waiting to happen. One thing that used to freak out my friend's mother, who was a middle school teacher when they had free time in school and the kids asked to watch TV was the idea of one of the kids suffocating in the slime at almost any Nickelodeon game show because it was very, very thick and expanded fast.

There's also another classic horror trope anyone could use an abuse where a corrupted director becomes obsessed with one of his child stars who loses their shit and eventually kills him or something because of a lack of identity post cancelation and no way to see themselves outside of their role, the idea of someone like the little girl from The Land Before Time surviving her attacker and waiting to kill them because child stardom is a genuine curse is Fun.

There was always the weird dream like feeling of waking up at 3:00 in the morning and seeing the George Lopez show playing, or staying home sick and seeing reruns of telenovelas or talk shows that are vague memories in the back of your mind.

Staying up late with a friend to watch Adult Swim and getting scared by the bumpers, there is so, so, so much.

Please utilize other time periods. There is better horror sooner in the past.

[therenlover]

Therenlover’s Official Fanfic Glossary!

Hey hey hey! This is the place where you can find all my up-to-date fanfics linked nicely, read about what projects I have upcoming, and learn what requests I’m taking at the moment! Cheers!

This post is massive so, for the sake of your dash, everything is under the cut

A NOTE ABOUT REQUESTS!

I will do my best to fulfill any requests I get while my ask box/requests are open! That being said, I cannot promise every request will get done, and that if they do, they’ll be done in a timely manner. I’m currently working on a long-form project that needs a lot of time and energy to come out consistently, so unless I’m doing a writing event most of my writing juice will be focused on that. That being said, if you want something ask! The worst I can possibly do is direct you towards someone else who might be able to write what you want if I cant.

If I choose not to do your request based on personal preference (it makes me uncomfy/I don’t write for the character at that time/I don’t feel I can write what you want/etc.) I will do my best to contact you and let you know! That being said, if you think your ask got buried/forgotten, feel free to message me again and let me know, but please tell me when you message me if I should be looking for a prior request.

Characters/Fandoms I will write for currently

 💙 = I’m Currently Super Inspired To Write For This Character

Marvel/X-Men

Bucky Barnes

Loki

Peter Maximoff 💙

Pietro Maximoff

Helmut Zemo 💙

Hank McCoy

Ralph Bohner 💙

Vision

American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker 💙

Kyle Spencer (Pre- and Post- Death)

Jimmy Darling 💙

James Patrick March 💙

Kai Anderson

Fallout 4

Nick Valentine

Hancock

Star Wars

Poe Dameron

Armitage Hux 💙

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Finn

Han Solo

Assorted/Random

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne - FGO

Cu Chulainn/Cu Alter - FGO

Warren Lipka - American Animals 💙

Enjolras - Les Miserables

Grantaire - Les Miserables

Gabriel - Supernatural

Imagines - REQUESTS CLOSED

Songs From Musicals Y/N Would Sing To The Evans

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Headcanons - REQUESTS CLOSED

Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons

Zemo With A Well Dress S/O Headcanons

Zemo Getting Jealous Headcanons

Oneshots - REQUESTS CLOSED

Marvel/X-Men

Helmut Zemo

One Last Night In Madripoor

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4200~

Still Some Catching Up To Do

Synopsis: As a member of the criminal underworld, people walk out of your life all the time. Some are killed, others kill themselves, most get caught and only a couple get out of the life unscathed, disappearing into the world never to be seen again. Very few walk back in. So when your supposedly incarcerated ex-lover, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon waltzed through your door and made you murder your boss, needless to say, you were surprised and more than a little bit pissed.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 6800~

Nine Years Starved

Synopsis: It had been a little over nine years since Helmut Zemo lost his family, his country, and his sanity. Nine years since his last kiss. Nine years since he felt like a human man. Finally, he was ready to start over again, but first, he had to pay his penance back where it all began; Novi Grad. That’s when, by the grace of the fates, he met you.

Rating: G

Word Count: 7000~

Daddy Dearest

Synopsis: Not everyone gets lucky enough to go from being a broke college student in New York to being the sugar baby to literal royalty, but not everyone is you. Most people would be worried about messing things up or losing him to someone else, but you knew he would never find another baby just like you. Besides, you knew exactly what to do to keep him wrapped around your little finger. He may have been the daddy, but you pulled the reins.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 8000~

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs

Part One   Part Two   Part Three   Part Four

Synopsis: As a wanted man, Helmut Zemo spends most of his time jumping from place to place in the hopes of avoiding a trip back to prison. Unfortunately, that means he can’t always be home in your arms. When he is, though, in the rare moments of calm, you’re reminded of just how worth it it’s been to wait, even if that wait was only shortened by the arrival of your enemies.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 35,700~

Two Bodies In The Rain

Synopsis: It was raining the day you finally had to admit your feelings to Helmut. You hated to tell him the way you did, under the grey skies as your blood pooled below you, but at least you knew, in the end, he had seen the real you, even just once. That was enough.

Rating: T

Word Count: 5600~

Rest

Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3200~

American Horror Story

Jimmy Darling

Red Nights In Jupiter

Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3000~

James Patrick March

Heartsick

Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3700~

In Sickness And In Health

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5500~

Fallout 4

Currently Empty

Star Wars

Currently Empty

Assorted/Random

Currently Empty

Long Form Works/Series

Young Artist!Zemo AU

Chapter One: The Boy With The Easel

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Rating: T

Word Count: 7000~

Till Forever Falls Apart (A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Chapter One: Welcome Home

Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2400~

Chapter Two: The Doctor Is In

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Rating: T

Word Count: 2800~

Chapter Three: It’s Always Been You

Synopsis: After a month of adapting to his new universe, Peter Maximoff can confidently say that he likes his new life more than his old one. Sure, he misses home sometimes, but he’s been far too busy flirting with his new roommate to spend time crying over the things he’s lost. Everything is smooth sailing until a strange journal in his roommate’s study leaves him with more questions than he knows what to do with. Now he’s on a mission to discover who he’s really living with before she has the chance to turn against him.

Rating: T

Word Count: 8600~

Chapter Four: Before You Go

Synopsis: Peter, after days of contemplation, has realized that part of him loves Y/N no matter what she is or what she’s been through. Unfortunately, he can’t find her anywhere. When she finally returns home with the intention of leaving again, Peter realizes it’s his last chance to tell her how he really feels. Will he succeed, or will he fail to be fast enough once again?

Rating: T

Word Count: 4000~

Chapter Four And A Half: Gimme Swayze

Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Rating: T

Word Count; 2600~

Cakes For The Evans: A Blogging And Baking Adventure!

Kai Anderson’s Disaster Cake

Hey you! If you’ve made it this far down the list, thanks for supporting me as an author! I’ll be linking my AO3 here. I post everything there shortly before I post it here, and there are some older fics there you might enjoy along the way! It’s also easier to drop comments over there and I keep them open for non-members, so give me a shout if you liked what I wrote!

I love you all, you make me so happy, and without you support I would never be motivated to write! Cheers!

[howdywrites]

Distractions

- An In The Woods Somewhere drabble

Description: The aftermath of a violent zombie attack leaves Jackie shaken and Mara's there to pick up the pieces.

WC: 1.5k~ Warnings: (NOTE: this is a New Adult wip) blood, descriptions of gore and death, hurt/comfort, hints at PTSD

[WIP Intro]

My hand’s in his chest.

Jackie’s ragged breathing mixed with the pounding of her heart in her ears. She became aware of every sensation encompassing her trembling hands. Sharp bone and squirming innards. Blood so old and rancid it left her fist coated in its stomach churning viscosity. The smell of it burned her nose.

My hand’s in his fucking chest.

A voice, barely audible over the panicked thoughts echoing in her skull, called to her. Jackie’s eyes remained transfixed on the collapsed chest beneath her. She crouched over the man who had attacked her - if one could call it a man at all. His yellowed eyes stared at the stars above them, the light far from gone. His neck bent at an unnatural angle and the hunting knife she managed to wrestle off of him was now buried between his ribs. She gripped its leather handle for dear life, lost in the gore of his wound.

“Jackie.” Mara’s voice came to her like a freight train. A touch harsh and loud enough to pull her attention away from one of the cracked bones that dug into the back of her hand. Jackie’s head whipped around, meeting the soft, weary eyes of the woman she saved. “Jackie. Let go of the knife.” Her voice was soft. Softer than she’d ever heard from here in their two long days together. No snarky quips or barking orders. She beckoned to her like a cool oasis in a desert.

Jackie half expected the more experienced woman to be pissed at her for letting the killing get to her. Even after all they’d been through. But this… this was going to stick with her. Even with her own mind screaming at her to let go of the weapon and remove herself from the blood that began to soak into the knees of her jeans, she couldn’t release her grip on the damned thing.

“I… I can’t. Mara, I can’t-” She didn’t recognize her own voice. Shrill and panicked, she barely managed to swallow the sob growing in the back of her throat. “It’s stuck - I’m stuck!”

A quiet hush passed Mara’s lips. Jackie turned her face away so she wouldn’t see the hot tears that defied her and slipped down her cheeks. A warm, lithe body pressed against her back. Arms wrapped around her, grime coated hands taking her wrists. The lean muscle of her arms encased her protectively.

“Then let me do it. C’mon, let me free you.”

Jackie trembled. The sob won. Through blurry tears she watched as Mara’s fingers wrenched her own off the hilt of the blade. The muscle in her wrist ached terribly like the time in college when she gave herself carpal tunnel from writing two essays in a row. Despite the pain, they shook uncontrollably.

The chest against her back rumbled; Mara uttered a low groan as she hoisted Jackie off the dead man’s limp form. They stumbled backwards until they reached the mouth of the cave they had been hiding in for the past few hours to catch their breath.

Another sob wracked her chest, echoing off the jagged stone walls and high ceiling. Somewhere, in the distant woods, a high pitched yowling signalled danger. More of the fuckers lurked somewhere in the darkness. Mara squeezed her against her, mouth brushing against her ear. “Not here.” Her warm breath warned in a whisper. “The falls. Wait until the falls.”

Jackie’s breath fluttered in short bursts. Everything within her wanted to break down crying where they stood. Throw a fit that could shake the heavens and ultimately end the nightmare they were trapped in. But she choked back her whimpers and stumbled when Mara’s body left hers. A hand remained under her elbow, guiding her.

“This way. Carefully.”

Limbs carried her on their own. Her mind was too busy preoccupied with the violent attack playing over and over again like a rancid movie. Except it was her hands. Her feet. Her voice that cried out when she dealt the final blow.

Jackie’s ankle twisted oddly for a second as she lost her balance along the rocky shore of Sky Pond. Mara kept her upright, by some miracle, picking up their pace towards the Timberline Falls straight ahead. The sound of rushing water allowed her to cry again, as long as she kept the sobbing at bay. More tears slipped down her cheeks, cooling her hot flesh and releasing some of the pent up terror still lingering within her.

Timberline Fall’s grew louder the closer they approached it. Both of them surveyed their surroundings, making sure no one - and no thing - was close enough to attack. Jackie pulled her hand from Mara’s, pushing past her to get to a broad, flat boulder beside the body of water. Icy sprinkles fell from overhead, misting her. Relief joined hand in hand with the pain inside of her.

Before she knew it, Jackie’s screams drowned in the roar of Timberline.

-

It was uncertain how much time passed. The moon still hung high overhead, providing pale light. The falls became a background rumble that Jackie tuned out not long after arriving. The occasional whimper rattled in her throat, but it seemed she had cried every tear she could in the time they remained by the edge of Sky Pond.

At some point, she had been coaxed back to the cave. The dead man was nowhere in sight - something of Mara’s doing. Smears of his blood still painted the stone, but without his rotting corpse, there wasn’t much to see.

Jackie’s face pressed against warm skin. She wheezed, trying to conjure up another sob to finally drain her of energy. But it never came. Mara smelled like the earth. Strong and natural, with a hint of campfire and sweat. Not that she minded. After their two days together, she almost found it more comforting than her mother’s perfume or her past girlfriend’s deodorant. It was all Mara.

It took a small deal of effort to peel her tacky, tear-streaked cheek off of the bare shoulder she rested against. There, lounging by their backpacks, Mara held her and worked tirelessly to get the last of the rotten blood out from the creases of Jackie’s knuckles. Very few words were shared between them since her breakdown at the falls, but when she laid her head against her chest she let the sound of her steady heartbeat ground her.

“I’m sorry.” Though Jackie didn’t exactly know what she was apologizing for. Those dark eyes fluttered, a brow raising as they looked down at her.

“What have I told you about apologizing too much, Jackie?” The tease was light. Mara’s voice frayed, somehow mustering a small smile. “I’m just cleaning you up. I know what the scent of death can do to a person. You’ve dealt with enough. Just let me do this for you.”

Jackie went quiet, watching as Mara’s hands turned hers over so her palms faced up. The handkerchief she used was tossed aside. With both of their hands clean, she interlaced their fingers. The memory of the dead man’s face tried to surface, but the forehead that nestled against hers flung it back into the void.

“What are you thinking about?” Mara’s inquiry lingered unanswered for a moment. What was she thinking about? Images of the violence from the past days flickered but never formed completely at the front of her mind. Her brain buzzed with the touch. The gentleness in the warrior’s actions.

“Him. Or at least, I was.” Jackie’s breathing went shallow again. They were so close right then. She could feel her warm breath against her face. “I was thinking about the noise he made… but you’re kind of making it hard to do that right now.”

“Am I?” Mara snorted, pulling her head back from hers for a moment. Humor lingered on her exhausted gaze. “Don’t tell me you’ve caught feelings for some crazy bitch you met during a zombie apocalypse.”

Well that ruined the moment. Embarrassed, Jackie turned her face away and cast her gaze to the streaks of moonlight that lit up the front of the cave. A hand left one of hers. Warm fingers caressed the side of her jaw, pulling her gaze back to Mara. She looked serious then. Her brows lowered in concentration. They locked eyes for what seemed like hours.

Mara leaned in. Her lips were so close to hers. So fucking close. What a perfect distraction they were, even as they hovered ever so slightly next to hers. Jackie’s breath hitched in her throat and she watched her through her lashes. She gave a small nod, letting her know this was a welcomed advance.

She tasted of salt and sweet tobacco. Far better than the scent of blood or death. Jackie hummed against her lips, her hands trembling against. Only this time it was from the rush of electricity that coursed through her veins at the tender affection. Mara deepened the kiss, her hand still firmly against her jaw. A thumb swiped along her cheek bone, tickling her like a butterfly’s wings.

They only broke so she could catch her breath. After all her crying, Jackie still wasn’t sure how to breathe properly. The humor returned to Mara’s face and she murmured against her lips.

“Hope you like crazy, princess. You’re going to be stuck with me for a while”

-

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[sanchoyo]

danny phantom 14-20 thoughts!! I finished up s1 :D these last few eps were actually really really good!!!

-did. did tucker really just say esperanto was a dead language only spoken as a secret code between geeks. google says around 100,000 people actively speak it. oh my god...it being an auxiliary language doesn't mean its 'just for geeks to speak in code' ...it helps bridge gaps between people who don't have a language in common...

-danny really isn't pulling punches when it comes to fighting the ghost-cop possessed people huh. like he SLAMMED KWAN INTO THE CONCRETE SO HARD. HE THREW PAULINA INTO A BILLBOARD. will that...I mean it WOULD carry over to their bodies non-possessed, right? like if the ghost piloting their bodies gets hurt?? itd be so upsetting to be possessed, lose time, then wake up covered in bruises (and possibly, broken bones??) real horror movie stuff im sure wont be addressed in any way

-tuckers parents seem nice! I like them :)

-WULF IS CUTE AND I FEEL BAD. im so glad the gang realized he was only causing trouble bc of the shock collar walker put on him and helped. also, him wearing that big hoodie with the hood on, and thinking its subtle. we can tell youre still a giant wolfie :) THEN GETTING SUCKED INTO THE PORTAL AAAAH :( anxiously waiting to see Him Again....

-DANNY BLASTING HIS PARENTS THINKING THEY WERE OVERSHADOWED LMFAO GET THEIR ASSES. maddie marking how many ghosts she gets with lipstick tallies on the side of her portal gun? kindaaa iconic tho. (ALSO, SHE WAS LIKE, 2 FT AWAY FROM HIM RIGHT AFTER SHE TRIED TO SHOOT HIM. HOW DO YOU NOT RECONINZE YOUR OWN SON??? like sure, he might have diff hair/eye colors. but like, if one of my family members dyed their hair, and was wearing contacts, its not like id be like 'wHO IS THIS STRANGER!!!' ...he still has all his facial features!! same everything!!! I hate it here)

-paulina being #1 girl realizing danny's a friendly ghost immediately. smart queen. lancer and kwan ran away right after he made this sweet baby face at them:

which is hilarious.

-ok. im not saying his bullying is JUSTIFIED, but. dash looked so pleased with the (cute!) poster he just painted, and danny comes thru the wall and spills paint on his nice letterman jacket. his anger is justified maybe 65% of the time so far...(not the way he handles it, but STILL.) at least lancer is stepping in!! and them making a silly little bet was...cute?? until dash pulled out his GROSS UNDERWEAR AND SAID DANNY WOULD HAVE TO EAT THEM???? WHAT THE FUCK MAN. TUCKER WAS SO RIGHT ITS FUCKING WEIRD TO CARRY THOSE AROUND EWWW. THIS KID IS UNWELL. lancer was right, his animatronic setup was SUPER IMPRESSIVE?? hes actually pretty creative. danny meanwhile is stealing the fright knight's design...I hope dash is taking art classes or smth with his sports

-fright knight is the most bestest ghost so far i LOVE THAT DESIGN. I am biased towards knights, and characters with swords, but he fucks so severely. and should sue danny for copyright infringement for stealing his design for his haunted house. if some 14 yr old broke into MY house and stole MY sword, id also be pissed. his evil winged unicorn rules too with its FANGS. and he just CAN SHOVE THE PORTAL OPEN WITH HIS HANDS??? is he the strongest ghost weve seen so far? idk but hes my fav. SOUL SHREDDER IS SUCH A COOL SWORD NAME TOO. ANY NAMED SWORD ALSO FUCKS. 'flaming bedsheets of DEATH' funny king. ALSO he was polite to dash and tucker when just asking for directions and telling tucker 'oh maybe, just a suggestion, maybe be nicer to me and be more respectful :)' I LOOOVE HIM.

-I noticed this in the Ember ep, but jazz has an electric guitar in her room!! talent musical queen!! its cool to see hobbies just in the bg.

-fright knight's murder castle reminds me of the booby trapped murder castle in zexal!! another supposedly 'for kids' show with murder/trap castles! we love that. if you are a dp fan reading this, give yugioh zexal a try. its also got 13-14 year old protags and involves (alien) ghosts. the cardgame is just a vessel for the plot, which is really good. (I just want more people to watch my fav yugioh, man)

-danny. with a SWORD.

-danny doesnt NEED TO WIN this contest, dash didnt STEAL HIS DESIGNS AND STEAL A SWORD. he also got excited to hear lancer got sent to a dimension with his worst fears too just so he could win the contest? DANNY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! BRO MAYBE YOURE 14 AND HAVENT FULLY DEVOLPED YOUR WHOLE BRAIN YET, BUT...THATS FUCKED. this kid casually says the most deranged things, I do worry for my spooky son. once again, therapy needed. that judo toss was great tho. I wonder if he actually did pick up some martial arts stuff from his mom?

-danny can fly 112 mph!!! thats so fast! I love the lil montage of him and his friends testing his abilities and stuff, very cute and a good way to showcase what he can do by now and how much more proficient he's gotten from ep 1!!! I'm sure he's going to get more abilities :)

-im glad...maddie's at least TRYING this ep. I do feel for her because her husband is a man baby. but the fact it took 16 episodes to get a kinda semblance of any kind of real concern or attempts at bonding. hmm. jack's 'BACK OFF SHES A MINOR' @ the ghost trying to attack jazz. also was very funny. and him wanting to make an action figure of her? are the parents redeeming themselves to me? slightly. they gotta Work Harder

-THE GHOST. IS FLYING. THE PLANE.

-fenton machete. but she doesnt carry a PHONE??? ???

-I mean I expected vlad when you namedrop him earlier in the ep, and also the title card picture, and dalv corp being fucking vlad backwards. but seeing him just pull up on a golf cart made me bust out laughing. WITH the gift baskets prepared. why wouldnt you at least be suspicious. also, if he wants danny to be his lil sonboy, why is he so fucking malicious?? dude you are going about this in such a bad way. stop it. get some help.

-maddie not even hesitating to drag danny out. fucking good. danny is so right, go on the internet to date. get a cat. how do you spend...how many years?? has it been since college?? at least 20, right, since the parents/vlad are in their 40s? hung up on ONE girl. my god, man. incel drama queen. her kung fu IS impressive, but dude. 'we both know hes a creep' SO right. it sucks but they do need a phone and shit being in the middle of NOWHERE. also, just stealing his helicopter was great. <3

-'you must be exhausted carrying the weight of that mistake you made years ago' 'well we all make mistakes. maybe I'll make one now!' WHY DID THIS EXHCHANGE SEND ME. AND VLAD WITH THE BREATH SPRAY EWWW BITCH. 'OLD BAIT BREATH' SOO RIGHT. both danny and his mom playing him HAHAH hes so dumb. or rather, I think he thinks with his emotions too too much and is...actually pretty gullible? lmao he believed danny was ready to give in SO fast. (which is sad hes that hopeful, like you have SO MUCH MONEY YOU COULD EASILY GET ANOTHER GIRL WHO HAS A KID. AND WOULD WANT TO BE WITH YOU AND BE SUPPORTED. GET OVER THIS (1) WOMAN ALREADY IM GETTING SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT AAAAH)

-GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR. it was also in the title card, but I still got very excited. we love bears here

-SAM'S BAT SWIMSUIT COVERUP!!! her outfits are simply iconic.

-'i'd tell you to go to the mens room, but I don't think you qualify' top paulina transphobic moments. :( and him wearing a tanktop to the swim park? hmmm! (actually I think she was overshadowed by then, so, KITTY top 10 transphobic moments??)

-kitty just piloting paulina around makes me feel SO bad tho, paulina's gonna wake up and be like 'wtf do you mean I was dating this rando' like youre leading danny on to make johnny jealous, and also just POSSESSING POOR PAULINA. dude take your relationship problems ELSEWHERE. last time we saw them, they seemed like such a cute couple!! wtf johnny!! I mean, she sucks for trying to make him jealous, he sucks for looking at other girls...maybe they need a break, but Not Like This. or, you know, just. better communication...

-and the A-listers having a full packet and a stamp system. who organizes this. kwan fucking owning being the new danny though, this is hysterical. THE TUCKER/KWAN FLOWER FIELD TWIRL. UNIRONICALLY ADORABLE. and him giving it his all for the poetry slam. bless his HEARTTTT.

-Star owns. actually, all of the extra characters are shining this ep and I love it.

-INVISO-BILL??? NOOOO THEY DID HIM SOO DIRTY. DANNY SWEETIE IM SO SORRY.

-johnny and danny bein friends and staging a fake fight (which danny takes too seriously, once again this child has aggression he NEEDS TO WORK OUT) I hope these three stay friends, I said it before but danny needs more friendly ghosts to hang with.

-at this point, Danny's ghost enemies are a lot like, I dunno, batman's rouge gallery is the first thing that comes to mind. they all have their own gimmick and unique designs, but most of them are easy to beat after learning the Moral Lesson. I still get excited when any of them show up again, though. 18 is another valerie episode!!!! :D skulker really said you two will get along if I have to handcuff you together <3 and the gym teacher really said, youre married now, have a flour baby! ngl, I'm not really watching this show for the shipping stuff (which I am very scared to look at the fandom for after I finish this watch through- I feel like there's probably discourse/arguing about ships...) but. I'm gonna put my opinion out there. valerie/danny > sam/danny. maybe I just really love the enemies to lovers trope. And the secret identity stuff adds Extra Flavor.

-SKULKER JUST HAVING THE BOX GHOST AND DANGLING HIM BY A STRING. HILARIOUS. and him watching them with binoculars and making his silly little commentary. AND MAKING THE SACK BABY CRY. LMAO. THIS DUDE IS A BABY KIDNAPPER. skulker is super fun

-danny, you just...collapsed the water tower. and then attacked the nasty burger machine...mascot thingy...out of anger..I KEEP SAYING HE'S GOT ANGER ISSUES BUT. HE REALLY NEEDS A LESSON IN MANAGING COLLATERAL DAMAGE!!! So does valerie!! They're both pretty focused on each other. I mean it's good of Danny to say he's trying to make sure PEOPLE don't get hurt, but... (I mean I guess it's not something 14 year olds WOULD worry about, but as an adult im like, who's going to fix that? how much money will that take??)

-TUCKER MAKING BANK. and sam and tucker being super emotionally attached to their flour baby and being pretty good parents. that's cute...also him just straight kissing her and being like. WAIT. O_O JDSKAFHD. his mom baking them into cookies was the funniest possible result. tbh I dont feel like this is on tucker, if anything the other kid's shouldve been more responsible! He was just taking an opportunity to get that $$ which I respect

-Danny being more understanding of Valerie's situation in the end (helping her at her job, too, and trying to keep that a secret for her!!!) And seeing them work together this ep, and also her letting phantom get her out of the ghost zone...was very sweet. LOVE that. more valerie eps pls

-me when I realize vlad's big stupid house exploded because of his own carelessness with changing the ghost portal ectofiltrator or whatever: *pointing and laughing*

-me when I realize it means he's gonna go make danny's life hell for it somehow: >:(

-SCOOBY PARODY!!! I feel like there's gotta be some scooby doo/danny phantom crossover stuff, right? also, 'guys in white' men in black wishes

-'oh, that's right! dad married the love of your life! you're bitter and alone!' DANNNNNYY GET HIS ASS ONCE AGAIN WE ARE POINTING AND LAUGHING AT VLAD

-'jack, you captured the ghost boy!!' UMM. he did nothing <3 'we have a weapon's vault??' YOU HAVE A WEAPONS VAULT??? and jack didnt put a handle on the inside. of fucking course he didnt! why would you leave that to your son!! or expect him to clean YOUR LAB when its where you work with probably dangerous chemicals and weapons and hes 14!! give him normal chores, like, I dunno, vacuuming, laundry, dishes...CMON. I hate it here. But I'm glad Jack is more chill about danny while he's a ghost, and willing to work with him for this ep. AND. I DID ENJOY JACK PUNCHING VLAD IN THE FACE. AND GENERALLY JUST OWNING HIM. the ghost punchy fists are actually amazing. like yeah, just punch a ghost in the face. that rules.

-ep 20 opens with the coolest fucking ghost lady design. her tattoos can come off and fight. MA'AM. I like ur nose ring and your cape maam hello 👉👈😳

-sam's grandma is hilarious and the most valid member of her family and I love her. thats my grandma now. and tucker covering for sam by dressing as her. thats true friendship <3 also skipping school to go to a goth circus. just bestie things! sam's parents are haters but for all the wrong reasons.

-'my family has controlled ghosts with this for generations!' WAIT. WAIT FREAKSHOW /ISNT/ A GHOST? I didn't expect that...he's just a fucked up guy controlling ghosts? anyway watching danny shoot at police cars and rob banks while mind controlled. its like, the most stereotypical 'bad' things lmao. (tbh an evil ghost circus troupe is a sick concept)

this gives off big deviantart emo edit vibes

(I'm going to assume evil circus reaper danny has a lot of fan content. people love an edgy au, except this one is canon (even tho its via mind control...having the protag go evil otherwise might be hard, I guess?) but au where he stays with the troupe...that has to exist, right?)

ANYWAY. excited to start s2!! lowkey surprised by how many notes some of these posts have gotten. I've gone back and tagged them all with 'dp thoughts' so they're easier to find on my blog! ^^ and I will probably possibly do (more) fanart on my art blog after I finish the watch of the whole show, so like. @sanchoyodraws follow my art blog :)

[darkeninganon]

So, you know this (Trigger warnings at the top, I’m sorry) post? Well, I made a... nice? version? A version with a good end for Dream. Trigger warning: Gore, cursing, violence, torture, and implied trauma. Read at your own risk.

Dream jolted, the lava falling once more. He cowered. Fuck, why did he have to cower each time? Why couldn't he just fucking control himself like he used to? He shook his head, trying to clear the negativity from his mind and shake off his fear. He could do this. He had been doing this. He was strong. He was the monster everyone feared. He was God.

Quackity stepped into the cell, smug smile spread a cross his face as he stared at Dream. "hey there Dream! You ready to give me what I want?"

Dream shook his head again. "Just... Stay over there! I'm not..."

"Okay, you're doing this again?" Quackity took out an axe, slowly pacing towards Dream.

"No! No, no, no, no! I...I just- I'll die if you keep this up! You don't have to visit! Please!" Dream pressed himself against the wall, feet kicking out in an effort to put nonexistent space between him and his tormentor.

Quackity paused for a moment, his smile falling. He seemed to think before putting the axe away, and taking out a potion. "Alright, let's make a deal: I won't visit you anymore, but only if you drink this potion without complaint." Quackity stated, producing a potion from his shirt pocket.

Dream stared at the strange vial. It didn't look like any potion he had seen before. "That's... That's all? Nothing else?" Dream asked, slowly moving towards Quackity and the vial.

"That's it! Just drink it without fighting me and-"

Dream snatched the vial from Quackity, pulling away from his tormentor before popping the cork off and chugging down the liquid. It tasted sickeningly sweet, like sugar and honey mixed with flowers and grass. God it was weird. He threw the vial away, aiming for the lava.

Dream glared at Quackity. He had done it. "why are you still here?"

Quackity sauntered closer. "Waiting to see it work."

Dream was about to ask what he meant when a wave of dizziness hit him. The room seemed to spin, making Dream groan and shut his eyes, turning away from Quackity to cling to the wall, waiting for it to pass. Dream slowly opened his eyes, focusing on his hands.

"Wow! That worked great!"

Something massive suddenly closed around Dream, causing the prisoner to yell. Whatever it was kept him held tightly, cramping him into an uncomfortable position and moved fast. In and instant the light of the lava returned, allowing Dream to look around and see what had happened. Oh how he wished he didn't.

Dream was confronted face-to-face with a giant Quackity, and what had grabbed him was his tormentor's hand. "what... What the fuck did you do to me?!" Dream's voice cracked as he stood, stumbling around is disbelief. "You... Why... What... No... No, no, no,no!" Dream was near crying, the hand he was standing on shaking as the now giant man laughed. "Sam! Sam help! SA-" The wind was knocked out of Dream as wind rushed past him and he slammed into a wall, his body falling to the ground with a sickening crunch. He slowly lifted his upper body off the floor, shaking with the effort; Quackity stepping closer once again. A shoe suddenly slammed down right next to Dream, landing with enough force to knock the now tiny prisoner over.

"Quackity stop! Please!" Dream yelled, trying to crawl away. He heard Quackity laugh, then his leg exploded in pain with a sickening grinding-crunching noise. Dream screamed, trying to pull away from his trapped limb, and only succeeding in seeing what had actually happened. Quackity had stepped forward, carefully, and was currently standing where one of Dream's legs was supposed to be.

Quackity pulled his leg back, dragging his shoe across the floor. Dream grit his teeth at the small trail of blood left behind, leaving a bloody void where his leg had been. "Fuck... Fuck you Quackity..." Dream hissed, claws scrabbling against the obsidian in vain.

"Ew. God, you're as gross as a bug now." Quackity hissed, kneeling down to look at the shrunken prisoner, who was hyperventilating and glaring.

"Sam... won't let you-" Dream yelped as he was grabbed again, hoisted into the air by his tormentor. "Sam! Sam please! Quackity's going to kill me! SAM!" Quackity tilted Dream around, much like a child would when inspecting a new toy. Quackity grabbed Dream's undamaged leg, holding it just below the knee. "Quackity? What are you-" Dream screamed as his leg was bent backwards, knee snapping in a small shower of blood as the bones broke the skin.

"Holy shit! You're so fragile like this!" Quackity laughed as Dream grit his teeth in an effort to not scream anymore than he already had.

Tears fell from Dream's eyes, black dots floating across his vision as his face burned.

"Let's see here..."

Dream felt a slight breeze dart across his face before it began to burn again. He was still hyperventilating, eyes now darting in and effort to see what had changed. His vision cleared enough to see Quackity holding his mask, inspecting it. Dream muttered, wanting it back.

"What?"

"Give... give it back... please... Please Quackity... Give it back..." Dream watched helplessly as Quackity threw the mask away, staring sadly at the little flame that signaled it burning in the lava. Dream lamely reached out for it, whimpering as his last line of defense now burned away. Dream looked to Qauckity; "Why... isn't the torture enough? You said... all I had to do was drink the potion... all I had to do was drink the potion."

Quackity laughed. "Oh Dream, I said I wouldn't visit anymore... Well, I can't visit if I never leave!"

Dream's eyes widened in horror as the realization dawned on him. Quackity- emotional, unstable, cruel, follower Quackity had tricked him. "You... You're a monster..."

Quackity barked out a laugh again. "Look who's talking! A monster calling me a monster!" Quackity grinned, all teeth and malice. "Oh you have no idea."  Quackity grabbed one of Dream's arms only to freeze. He looked to the lava, head tilting. "Sam?"

Sam, the warden, tripped out of the lava, wearing his netherite and looking more than a little pissed. "We have got a serious problem. Techno..." Sam paused, bracing his hands on his knees to catch his breath. "Techno, Niki, Phil, and... and fucking Ranboo are trying to break into the prison."

"What?!" Quackity glared down at Dream, tightening his hold on the tiny prisoner. "I should have executed that fucker as soon as we all split up. FUCK!" He threw Dream in rage.

Dream slammed against the wall, hard, something else was broken, or more broken. He had no idea. But falling to the floor behind the lectern didn't help at all. Dream dragged himself into the tiny space behind the chest, desperate to get out of Quackity's reach.

He stared in horror as Quackity tried to reach behind the lectern, clawing at the obsidian to find where Dream had gone. "Get out here now!"

"No! Go away!”

"Leave him Quackity! I need help, alright?! If anyone sees you here we are both dead, and I have no idea-"

"I'm on my last life Sam! Fuck!" Quackity kicked the lectern. "Get fucking crushed you piece of shit green bastard!"

Dream heard a potion bottle break, then silence. He was finally alone again. He was alone. Forever now. He was small, and alone forever, and severely injured. Dream curled in on himself, breaking down now that he was finally alone. He froze as he heard something- someone- come through the lava.

"Dream?"

The shrunken prisoner gasped, "I'm here! I'm here..." tears fell from his eyes again as the chest was moved, a green and red eye peering down at him from a black and white face.

"Oh..." Ranboo stared at Dream, shocked into silence. He had planned to kill the prisoner while Sam fought with the rest of the syndicate, but... Ranboo reached down, being as gentle as he could while picking up Dream. Ranboo produced a health potion, dropping some onto the tiny man before putting it away.

"Hey! Lethe! Hurry up! There are more guards than we thought!"

"Shoot." Ranboo looked to the small man in his palm. One leg was bent at a horribly wrong angle right at the knee, while the other was completely gone. Ranboo sighed, taking out a splash potion and throwing it to the ground. "Hold on. We'll be right out." With that the half enderman dove into the wall of lava, holding onto the prisoner so he wouldn't sink and burn.

Ranboo broke through to the other side, taking off running, cradling Dream to his chest. Dream closed his eyes, curling into himself before passing out.

Dream stirred awake, dragged from his sleep by the murmur of various voices all around him. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking around; his leg was still broken at the knee, with the other gone, but neither was bleeding anymore. Looks like that potion from Ranboo did its job. If only the potion Quackity gave him had run out while he was asleep.

"No! I'm not helping the bastard!"

"Tommy, he's the size of... He's tiny! He couldn't hurt you if he wanted to!"

"No! And that's final! That man deserves death for all he's done!"

Dream cringed. Tommy was going to get his way, Dream was probably going to die right here and now. The slamming of doors getting closer only made Dream's dread grow. Then  they saw each other. Tommy was staring down at Dream, silent for a minute.

"Holy shit you are tiny."

Dream glared at the teen. "Fuck you!"

"Here. Have some milk. Then I'll hate you again." Tommy dropped a few drops of milk into the box, near enough that Dream could reach them. "You'll owe me for destroying my model." The teen hissed.

At Tommy's words, Dream looked around again, realizing he was in a cobblestone house. A very small Cobblestone house. "Whatever. You have enough stone to build it again." Dream grumbled, taking one drop of milk and drinking it down.

Dream and Tommy sat there, waiting. Dream took another sip of milk. Then another.

"Okay, what the fuck kind of potion is this?" Tommy growled, removing a wall to kneel next to the table. "Ranboo, Tubbo! I think we have a problem!" Dream cringed as Tommy yelled right next to him, the two being yelled for running into the room.

"What's wrong boss man?!"

Tommy pointed to Dream as the shrunken man took another desperate sip of milk, glancing at himself before staring at Tommy in horror. "you... Why?"

"How should I know? Who even-" Tommy fell quiet as Dream was consumed by rage, slamming his fist against the floor and yelling.

"No! This cannot be! For Fuck's sake!"

"Dream, Dream don't yell, please-"

"Shut the fuck up Tommy! You're not the size of a fucking bug! You may act like one with how annoying you are, but it's not like you can actually be stepped on!" Dream hissed, curling in on himself. "Just... Fucking go away, okay? Leave me alone and let me die."

Tommy stared at his tormentor before glancing quickly at Tubbo and Ranboo. "I... Dream, who did this to you?"

"Why do you care?"

Tommy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I care because if that person did this to you, then they can do it to other people. Like Tubbo."

Dream sat up. Tommy was right. For once Tommy was right. Dream sighed. "I'll tell you, on one condition."

"If you say the disks I swear-"

"Do not put me back in the prison! Don't let anyone know about me, okay? Okay?! No one! No one can know that I'm out, or-or-or that I'm..." Dream motioned to himself. "Alright?"

"That's a lot Dream."

"I know, but it's important! Sapnap... Sapnap will kill me if he find out I got out... Sam... Fuck I don't even know what he'd do. Just... please Tommy. Please?"

Tommy sighed, nodding. "Alright. You got it. No one will know you're here, and you can stay. Now tell me who-"

"Quackity did this. Ranboo, Techno, Phil, and apparently Niki got me out before Quackity could do anything else." Dream supplied, staring at Tommy.

"Quackity... It started out as him wanted the knowledge from the book, but... But then- I don't know! He visits every day, and he knows I won't tell him, but he just visits every day, and he said if I drank that stupid potion he'd never come back. But, but-fuck!- he lied because then... then he didn't want to leave! He... he fucking... He decided that it wasn't an issue if he never left-"

Tommy placed his hand over Dream, ignoring they way the small man yelped. "Relax Dream. We got this. You just... Stay here and rest. We'll take care of everything." Tommy removed his hand, placing the wall back up as he stood, then placing a roof over the whole thing.

Dream stared at the roof, breathing heavy.

"Ranboo, Tubbo-"

"Quackity has gone mad. I... I never said anything but..." Tubbo fell quiet, shifting around. "He wanted to execute you big man... after the festival, and I-"

"Oh, okay. We'll see how Techno feels about Quackity after learning that." Ranboo spun around, getting ready to leave. "And Phil, and Niki." Once again Ranboo paused by the door, perking up. "And... I think it's about time to call in a favor..." Ranboo smirked with a chuckle, leaving.

Tubbo looked at Tommy. "Don't ask me what he's talking about. He's got his own things going on."

"Tubbo." Tommy slammed his hands down on his friend's shoulders, staring intently at him. "I'm going to need your help to stay sane with this, okay?" Tubbo nodded, raising a brow in curiosity. "You need to make sure I don't go mad with power over this. Quackity is our enemy now, along with Wilbur. You need to make sure I focus on that."

"You can count on me Boss man!"

[geekthefreakout]

In Which Castiel is Properly in Lebanon

Dean isn't sure what he's feeling at the moment. On the one hand, he's pissed- this pearl was supposed to get rid of Michael. Get rid of the pounding in his head, the danger in his bones. Let him rest. On the other hand- his dad is here again. In front of him, and with Mom and Sammy too. The tremble in John's voice when he'd asked "Mary?" after hearing her voice... Well, Dean has heard himself sound like that. In a dark street near a church, lit only by the neon lights of the cross on the church and Baby's headlights. Watching his parents come together, reuniting after so long... he can't deny that his heart feels full with the love between them. Sam feels the same way, he could tell, his big brown eyes damp and his mouth curling with a tremulous smile.

He hopes that John can find a way to fix Dean's head while he's here... and boy, won't that be a conversation to have. His stomach turns over as he watches John and Mary whisper presumably sweet words to each other. He can hear it now, John berating him for allowing Michael in in the first place. John talking about having to clean up Dean's messes-- and Dean supposes that was why the pearl had pulled John forward to this moment. Dad would yell and scold and send Dean away, he would take him to task and never let him forget what he'd done, but Dad would fix it. He'd fix it, and he'd be disappointed in Dean, but Michael would be gone and Mom and Dad would be together, and Sam would have both his parents for the first time in his life.

Of course, nothing is ever that simple.

The door to the bunker opens as Mary begins searching the kitchen for Winchester Surprise ingredients. John tears his eyes away from his wife at the sound, meeting Dean and Sam's eyes in turn as he reached for a gun.

Right. John wouldn't expect them to have anyone else in their lives. Sam and Dean had painted some broad strokes, with some input from Mary (the way John's eyes bulged when she described hunting had truly been something to see), but John had seemed more surprised at the idea of their extended hunter network than anything else. Their family, though Dean hadn't dared to call it that. Family was a holy word to John, something that meant Mom-Dean-Sam-Dad only.

"Dean? Sam? There have been temporal distortions radiating out from Lebanon, are you--" Cas stops halfway down the stairs, his eyes wide as he takes in John standing defensively between Sam and Dean. "Well. That explains some of it at least."

Dean is quick to get between Cas and his father. His heart is pounding in his throat suddenly. He can't bring himself to look either of them in the eye, and that doesn't make sense. It's not as though-- it's not as though he and Cas are together or anything. Or as though Cas knows how he feels. It's not like John will be able to just-- read his mind-- and know... but then, there were those nuns he had to burn, and he'd been convinced John didn't know then either and shit he's panicking he should say something he should--

"Who the hell is this?" John's voice is gruff, but not hostile, that's good. Dean forces himself to meet his father's eye.

"This is..."

"I am Castiel." Cas is suddenly much closer, having descended the stairs while Dean panicked. "You are John Winchester."

Dean doesn't even have to know that Cas is doing that thing where he tilts his head and squints and either looks like the cutest puppy or like he's going to cook you to death with his laser eyes, and he really cannot have a confrontation happen--

"Cas is our friend, Dad." Sammy, thank god for Sammy. "He's family."

Dean nods, and affirms: "He's family." He turns to Cas. "So, remember that pearl that was too good to be true?"

Cas sighs, and looks at Dean with fond exasperation.

"I remember telling you not to try it without me."

Dean shrugs half-heartedly. John clears his throat, his expression both stern and inquiring. That "report, soldier" look that had always prompted Dean to spill his guts without fail.

"We, uh, have more to explain." Dean slaps Cas on the shoulder. "Mom is cooking."

"Mary doesn't cook." Cas had not taken his eyes off of John, his stare intense. John was staring right back.

"This is the one thing she does. It's Winchester Surprise. You'll like it."

"You ain't human." John pronounces, and Dean winces, locking eyes with Sam. Sam clears his throat and approaches.

"He's an angel, dad. We told you."

"Didn't realize you were serious about keeping one around."

"I am not 'kept.'" Cas had his hackles up. Great.

"Alright, alright." Dean put his hands up. "Dad, we've got a lot more to tell you. But Cas is here because this is his home, same as it is ours. He's one of us." Dean forces his voice to firmness, goes for the same tone he used to use to defuse fights between Dad and Sammy. He gives Sam a look, and his brother sighs.

"Actually, Cas, can you help me translate this book? It has more information on the pearl and what's happening, and my eyes are gonna go cross if I read another word of Latin."

"I wouldn't allow that to happen." Cas says, but after one last intense look at Dean and John, he follows Sam. Dean lets his father follow him to the table and picks up where he left off.

"Right, so... Cas stuck around after we stopped the apocalypse. Things in heaven... well, it's messy, but the point is it's better for Cas to be on Earth with us. He's family, he... anyway, he's here. And I, uh, I told you how mom came back..."

"Because God's sister was feeling charitable." John's voice was flat, and Dean forces out a laugh.

"Well, when you put it like that... but that's what happened. You can't make that shit up."

"Well, I guess you can't." John allows, and his lips quirk up in a grin, which Dean returns. "So this pearl that brought me back... I'm not who you were expecting. I've heard about Sammy, and I've heard about your mother..." John shakes his head in disbelief. "What was the pearl actually supposed to be for, Dean? What's wrong with you?"

Dean winces, takes a breath.

"Okay, this is about to get even crazier." He watches John's eyebrows shoot up. "So, it turns out there are other universes. Like alternate timelines and stuff. And there can be... these rifts or tears that go to them. It takes a lot of power, but uh, one was opened by mistake. And the world it led to, it was one where we didn't exist, Sam and me. And the apocalypse happened. It was bad. Mom and our kid- our friend, Jack, they got stuck there for a while. And when we were saving them, we saved a whole bunch of hunters on that side too, let them in to our side." Dean paused to check that John was following. His father was working his jaw, which meant he was thinking, or angry. John nodded after a moment for Dean to keep going. "Anyway, the biggest bad over there was Michael the archangel. Their version. We thought we locked him out when we rescued everyone, but he and Lucifer broke through to our world. And Lucifer managed to really juice himself up, and then take Sammy and Jack. The only... Michael was hurt. He was too weak to take him on, and we just didn't have the firepower. So I thought... I asked him if he could do it, if he had his sword. His perfect vessel."

"You." John summed up. He was definitely glaring now. Dean looked down at his hands, picking at the loose skin at his thumb.

"Yeah. We had a deal, I thought. I was gonna be in control, and then he was gonna leave me. I thought maybe we could send him back to apocalypse world or something after. We-- me and Michael-- we killed Lucifer. But he didn't leave. He took me over and he did things... he's been organizing the monsters, setting up traps for hunters. Pumping them full of angel juice to make them less vulnerable to us-- we ran into a djinn that could full create things, man. Like, in real life. But Sam and Cas, they brought me back. I have Michael locked away, in here." Dean tapped his head. "And he's locked up tight, but I can't... I can't keep him locked away forever. He's pounding and pounding at my head, he won't let up, and so I can't let up. And I'm gonna break, Dad. I broke in hell and I'm gonna break this time, I know I am. I need help." Dean felt his voice crack and his eyes dampen, and he made himself look up at his father. "The pearl... I was supposed to be able to make a wish, and Michael would be gone. But you're here now. And I need you to help fix this, Dad. Please."

John's face is inscrutable. He doesn't reach out to touch Dean, to grasp his shoulder. Dean waits for him to speak like a man waiting for an axe to fall.

"It was a goddamn stupid thing to do, Dean. Let that thing inside you." John shakes his head. "Now your brother and mother are in danger as long as they're around you." Dean winces and John sighs. "So we're gonna have dinner-- I'm assuming you can make it through dinner-- and then you and me are gonna light out of here, and figure this out together. Let your mom and Sammy stay here, where Michael can't use them as leverage. Keep the angel away, we don't need any extra baggage. And we'll figure it out." John nods like he always did when he'd reached a decision. "I won't let you hurt them. Or anyone. I promise you, we will find a way to stop this Michael, Dean. And if not..."

Dean nodded shakily. "I have a plan. There's this box. To lock me away in, in case..."

John nods back at him, finally reaches out to pat his shoulder.

And Dean was relieved. John was gonna fix it. John would understand about the Malak box, if all else failed he would lock Dean away and let him sink to the bottom of the ocean, harmlessly alone. He wouldn't get distracted trying to save him, once it seemed impossible John would understand the sacrifice and...

"That box is not an option."

Dean's head shoots up. Cas is standing in the door, his hands fisted at his sides. Dean imagines that if he could see Cas' wings, they would be flared up at his sides.

"Cas--"

"I don't think that's any of your business." John said.

"It is my business. More so than it is yours." Cas was glaring fully at John right now. "Because you would have Dean away from his family."

"I am his family." John stood, angrily.

"You think you are. But a wise man said that family doesn't end in blood." Cas looks at Dean, piercing him with his gaze. "Nor does it start there."

"Cas." Dean's voice cracks. "Don't."

But John is already crossing the room, getting in Cas' face, fisting his hands in the trench coat, yelling about how Cas wasn't human and had no place in his family and Cas isn't budging an inch. He wouldn't. Dean could hear Sam running towards the room, could hear Mary shouting from the kitchen about what was wrong, but he couldn't breathe as he watched John deliver what would have been a devastating blow on to Cas' face, if Cas had been human.

But Castiel, as had been pointed out, is not human.

John shouts in pain and surprise instead as his hand breaks against Cas' cheek. Cas doesn't even turn his head like he did for Dean back in the beautiful room a full decade ago. John prepares another blow, but Cas effortlessly shoves him against the wall with one arm as Sam skids into view.

"This is what is going to happen." Cas says, his voice dripping with authority, and Dean distantly thinks that he would find that voice extremely interesting if he wasn't so busy trying to make himself breathe. "We are going to eat Mary's dish. You will enjoy the privilege of time with your wife and sons. And then we will crush that pearl and return you to 2003." Cas turns his head from John to face Dean. "I am sorry, Dean, but the temporal distortions will only grow. For now they are confined to Lebanon, but soon they will consume the world. Mary will disappear. People you've saved will die. You and Sam will lose your memories of this time and find yourselves on a different path, as you saw in town before. And I... Well, I don't know what will happen to me. But I do know I would rather die as I am, with you, than return to what I was before we met."

Dean swallows. "You sure?" He hears himself ask, as though from a long way away.

"Yeah, Dean. We've looked through everything." Sam affirms, then he puts a hand on Cas' arm. The two of them exchange a look, and Cas releases John. "I wish things could be different, Dad. But even if they were, you realize I couldn't just let you and Dean go off on your own? Neither would Mom."

"You're damn right about that." Mary was in the doorway now, observing. "You hit him, Cas?"

"He hit me. I chose not to allow it."

"Good for you." Mary says warmly. John looks at her in betrayal. "What? You're the one that lashed out." She takes John's broken hand in hers. "I know you're used to being the drill sargeant-- and I wish we had time to talk about that." Mary's voice is steely. "Because our sons should never have had to call you sir-- but this family stays together."

"I go, or you do?" John says at last, checking with Mary. Dean's chest is tight, and he barely registers Cas walking towards him. "You go back to being dead if I stay."

Mary's eyes are red and she nods, pressing close to John. John looks at Sam, who nods at him sadly. Then he turns his gaze back to Dean, and Dean nearly trembles, having the strength to stand still only because of Cas now standing at his side.

"Well," John rubs his broken hand. "That's no choice at all. Seems to me that all there is to do is... well." He wraps an arm around Mary. "I can't say I'm sorry for trying to think of ways to keep you safe. But if all we get is a little time, if all we get is dinner... let's have dinner. Winchester surprise. Let's just have this one night as a family."

Sam nods and gives a sad smile, and Mary hugs John before announcing that dinner would be served as soon as it finished cooling down. Cas puts a hand on Dean's shoulder, and Dean comes back to himself in a rush.

"I'll drink to that." He says.

As they all crowd into the kitchen, all conflict seemingly forgotten (never forgotten, pushed away, if you don't look at it it isn't there). John largely ignores Cas, but shares stories of Sam and Dean growing up that have nothing to do with hunting, things Dean had forgotten about, like the time Sammy learned how to escape his high chair and became almost impossible to hold down for meal time, or when Dean had put on a thanksgiving play using all of his and Sammy's toys when they'd had to miss the one at school. Mary talks about what they've gotten up to lately, how the music these days is nothing like it was. Cas mentions that Dean must agree, because the tape he gave him was all Zeppelin. Dean's heart freezes as his eyes meet his father's after that, but while there is a knowing look is John's eye, he shakes his head and moves on to the next tale-- this time about Dean refusing to let anyone else hold Sam when Sam was first born.

"'This is my baby,' he'd say. To everyone, even me. Even you." John looks at Mary, his eyes full of unfamiliar mirth. "Remember?"

"Mmhm. His Sammy. No one else's. You screamed the first time we tried to send you back to nursery school after Sammy came home from the hospital." Mary says to Dean. "Wanted him to come with you, or you weren't going."

Dean smiles.

At the end of the night, they still have to crush the pearl, send John back to 2003. It's one of the hardest things Dean has ever done. He hugs his father tight, pushing aside all the fear and the anger just to hold his dad again. Sam does too. They take a photo- John won't remember this as any more than a dream, but he wants his boys to have this time when they were a family. He even nods his thanks to Cas when he offers to take it. And then John is gone, and Mary is weeping quietly into Sam's shoulder. Sam gives Dean a look, and Dean knows they will be talking about the Malak box again. Cas sits up with Dean that night, and they say nothing at all.

"You know," Dean says eventually. "I think my dad liked you."

"Did he?" Cas sounds unimpressed. "I didn't like him."

"Cas."

"He would have found you entering the Malak box an acceptable sacrifice. Because of his own inadequacies as a father, you also find this acceptable. I cannot forgive that." Cas holds up his hand to forestall Dean's protest. "But I'm glad you got that dinner with him."

"Yeah. Me too."

END

[flatfootmonster]

Remember This

Bum wanted to move. His left foot itched where part of his skin was still damp underneath a too big sock that didn’t belong to him. He wanted to drink the coke in front of him. He wanted to cry. All those things were impossible; he was barely able to remember to breathe. Someone had been shouting that—to breathe in and out—after everything had changed; gone black and then bright, gone quiet and then loud.

They’d just been on their way to Nana’s, him and mum and dad, just like they usually did because it was Friday today. Was it still Friday? And when would everything go back to normal? What did he have to do to make it right? But there was no one to ask even if he could talk.

“Listen,” said the big man, dressed in his plain white uniform—all clean except for a smear of something red on the sleeve. He was shorter than Bum's dad, his hair wasn’t as dark, and his face was rounder—so was his body. This man wasn’t Bum’s dad. When would he see him again? “I’m gonna go and talk to the other nurse next door. Do you remember Nurse Clay? The one who brought the snacks? I’ll be back in a few minutes. Sit tight and try and drink something. And, erm… just let me know if you want to go to the toilet next time—if you can.”

He stared at Bum, a deep furrow in his brow, and Bum stared back, not quite understanding why he was being spoken to or what was being said. Nothing made sense, not this place, or the people here, and not the noises everyone and everything made. Words vibrated in the air and became a constant buzz. If he thought about it too much and tried to decipher the sounds, the screams would come. He didn’t want to hear her make those sounds. Right now that was all he could remember of her—his mum.

With a sigh, the man left through the door. It was held open by a thick wedge of folded paper. The bench Bum sat on was hard, his fingers strained in a death grip as if he were instead on a rollercoaster. But he had no control over his body. Bum wasn’t even sure if he had a body anymore or if anything was real. The only other thing in the small too bright room was a table where an open coke and apple sat. The table had one short leg. It wobbled whenever anyone leant on it.

“He’s not talking. He’s not even nodding or—I don’t know. It’s like he switched off.” The first man's voice was still sounding, but it was in the next room now, muffled by walls but not entirely restrained.

“I called next of kin, but it may take a while for her to get here at this time of night.” There was a second buzz to accompany the first. It was higher in pitch but made just as little sense to Bum as the other.

“It’s a mess. A goddamn mess.”

“I haven’t seen anything like it. Not round here. It’s just not right. Two of them. Who’s gonna explain to them where their mummy and daddy are?”

“One’s too young, thank god—no dad though. It happened near their house, that’s what Tan said. They all came out to gossip with the police—the neighbours. There’s no one to call for him, no family anyway. Doesn’t that break your heart? Too young to understand but he’ll never remember his mum, never have any real family...”

There was a pause in the buzzing. Bum’s blood was throbbing in his ears. He was going to explode.

“Did you speak to the EMTs?”

“I didn’t get a chance. I was with a patient when they came in.”

“They said she reeked of booze—the mum of that little one. They think she was drunk.”

“Drink driving? That’s a damn shame. Do we know his name?”

“Not yet. Just the quiet one: Yoon Bum. Poor thing. He’s barely breathing, can’t say a word. I don’t even think he’s blinking. It’s a miracle they came out without a scratch.”

“One’s going to give himself brain damage from all the screaming he’s doing, and the other is deaf and mute—and their parents are dead. Not sure I’d call it a miracle.” There was a long sigh. “I just want to go home.”

“Me too. I need to hug my kids.”

Another door opened, and a low wail oozed along the white-walled corridor, it didn’t sound the same as the screams Bum had been trying to silence and forget. Footsteps tapped their way across vinyl before a third buzz joined the din.

“Did anyone get milk yet? I don’t know what else to do. He won’t stop.” This one was panicked: edgy, high, shrill. Bum didn’t like it. It made the bench shake, and his teeth were chattering because of it.

“Tan went for some. I don’t know where he is now. That was, what, maybe five minutes ago?” A non-committal hum was added to the statement-question hybrid in vague corroboration.

“I’ll go look for him—you guys can check on the baby. I’ve done enough.”

Whatever protests the first and second voices offered didn’t stop the marching footsteps, tapping an impatient path across vinyl again. They quieted until another door banged shut, somewhere far away from where Bum sat in his windowless room with his warming can of coke. The pop-pop-popping of the bubbles bursting against tin was slowing. It would be flat soon—dead. Had the pop-pop-popping in his mum and dad stopped?

“Maybe if we leave him for a few minutes he’ll go to sleep. Babies cry themselves to sleep anyway, don’t they?”

“You’re the one with kids. What do I know about babies?”

“Do you want coffee? I’m gonna go call the wife.”

The crying was all that was left now. It was quieter, muffled by the boundary the door set, but Bum could still hear it. It was slowing too, getting lower. It was pathetic and begged and tired. Was the baby’s pop-pop-popping stopping?

Bum’s lungs jump-started. That was how they worked now; they’d stop for a long time before remembering what their job was. Bum drew sharp, cool air into his chest before he attempted to move the body he was sure still attached itself to his thoughts. In a jerky motion, Bum slid off the bench. His eyes were dry as he stared at the door to the next room along the corridor. Footfalls had disappeared, nothing moved. There was just a low erratic hum like the one remaining buzz was trying to soothe itself. Wiping his clammy palms down the borrowed shorts, Bum tried in vain to still the vibrations that jostled his atoms around. His hands shook, and his feet were numb. He didn’t even register the damp patch that made cloth cling to his thigh.

Bum made a stop-start path across small islands that were made up entirely of vinyl squares, one foot inching forward before it was joined by the other. If he stood outside of those imaginary landmasses, he’d fall into oblivion—he was sure of it. The room was cramped and, at the same time, vast as an ocean. But the wailing pulled him on. They were so sad, the cries. They were so full of sorrow it was surprising the baby hadn’t drowned in it all. Bum understood it better than he did the buzzing the big people made.

A lull settled just as he reached the door. Maybe the pop-pop-popping had stopped? There was no handle, so his sparse body weight became the tool, cracking the tall, heavy door open far easier than Bum imagined was possible. He slipped inside. It was another cell—just as bright and hard as the other. The only difference was a car seat, sat on the floor with the baby still strapped inside.

He had his eyes squeezed closed, and his face was an angry red—wet with tears and snot. Then the moaned wail picked up strength once more. There was an acrid smell to the room. He’d probably cried and thrown up everything that was in his tummy until all that came out was stomach lining—Bum had done that once when he’d gotten ill. His mum had held him and washed him and made everything OK. The front of the babies zipped up onesie was stained and damp. Who was going to clean the baby up?

Bum wanted to hate him. There was some recollection, a bone-deep understanding, that the fault of all this—the screams, the hard bench, the vomit and piss, the warm coke—was due to this baby's mum. That thing inside burned; it wanted a reason or direction, but it wasn’t strong enough. It didn’t singe his skin or catch fire to his consciousness, and it didn’t outweigh the hurt in the cries that only Bum could feel—feel in dark chambers in his heart, only just discovered tonight.

He stood and stared at the baby with no name. As his heart hammered in his chest, Bum became aware of the mess he’d made on himself. The damp patch was smaller than the first time when he’d wet himself in his own trousers. Perhaps he should go, slip back out and sit and wait on his own. But, as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, the wail stilled. There was a quiet that no buzzing or screaming dared encroach upon, the baby’s eyes were open and focussed on Bum. His tiny trapped chest rose and fell quickly beneath the straps that held him prisoner. The breaths fell in time with Bum’s heartbeat; his pop-pop-popping was fine, just like Bum’s.

The baby thrust out his hand, and stubby fingers peeked out the end of a grubby sleeve. He babbled something while a snot bubble burst under one porcelain perfect nostril. The fingers wriggled impatiently, drawing attention to the red on his cuff—just like the uniform of the big man. A baby shouldn’t have blood on them. It just wasn’t right—it wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Bum lurched forward as his feet stole back their gait, islands and oceans forgotten while his own fingers stretched out, answering where his lips were unable. The baby's grip was strong as it grabbed at Bum’s index finger, pulling it towards his chest and compelling the owner of that finger to crouch or else fall flat on his face.

A stuttered shush broke free. “It’s OK. We’re OK,” he said. The baby babbled again before he grasped Bum’s shirt, trying to haul himself out of the seat. “OK, OK, let me try—” It always looked so hard when his mum or dad tried to do this. His fingers trembled while he probed at the button sitting at the centre of the baby’s chest, easing it this way and that before a catch came free and the straps loosened. There was no hesitation once the restraints were gone, the baby pulled himself up onto his saviour. Bum had always been smaller and thinner than most of his friends, and this baby was big, heavier than Bum could hold—almost as long as Bum was tall already. His balance waned then he fell backwards. The impact of the floor against his backside was softened by arms wrapping around him like vines eager for support and fingers digging into him like roots desperate for nourishment.

For a moment, Bum sat where he’d fallen as bemusement kept him stuck in amber. He’d never known someone could be needful for him—it was always him in need of his parents or his Nana. And he still had her—his Nana. If he’d lost everything else there was that, there were his memories, too. But this baby did not have that—any of it. All he had was the heart that drummed against Bum’s chest; all he had was himself.

A small cream blanket was left in the car seat, padding where the baby had laid. The smudge of dirt and single leaf clinging to it meant it was the cleanest thing in the room after the sterile walls. And behind the car seat was a folded coat—judging by the size, it belonged to the baby. Shuffling over to the bench, where it housed a dark cove, Bum one-handedly set out a makeshift cot within the safety of the shadow and away from the bright, white exposure. There he eased himself and the baby down, head resting on the rolled-up coat and the blanket brought up to cover them both. Chubby legs and arms wriggled, pushing and pulling, as the baby crawled upwards until his head was just beneath Bum’s chin. Then he lay still, his breaths deepening, his muscles finally at ease.

Beneath the smell of the hospital, urine, and stomach acid, there was something else. Bum could sense it as soft, dark hair tickled his nose. It was sweet and safe, and it was peaceful and human—reminding him of something that had detached itself when the cars collided. Turning towards the wall, Bum brought his knees up, curling around the baby and holding on as tightly as he was being held. An aimless tune stirred before it came to fruition, hummed quietly down onto the crown of the baby’s head—like Bum’s mum used to when he couldn’t sleep.

A yawn forced his jaw wide. The baby was already sleeping and Bum remembered something else that was human: fatigue. Warmth replaced the hardness, trauma waivered beneath the weight of desperately needed dreams—full of the past and impossibilities, words came without sense. “We’re going to be OK,” he muttered, closing his eyes. “You can remember me. Remember me, OK? Remember this.”

Note: this was/is a time stamp from an AU I’m writing, although I don’t know if it fits better as a prologue considering it’s how things become altered and we have a different set of issues to play with.

[nukyster-blog]

Changing course chapter 19) three question game

.-.-.

Ivar had torn a muscle between his bicep and shoulder that made him a lot less mobile. He’d managed to limp on one arm towards the kitchen’s wall and slouched down against it. Resting his swollen cheek against the cool stones, Ivar hid the knife away between the folds of the potato bags that were wrapped around his legs. 

Piglet forcefully placed a basket full of shell beans at his feet. Kneeling down, her instructions followed fast and angry. She broke the bean and sliced off each end of the pod, pulling the pod apart from the seam. 

“Aren’t we just two peas in a pod, huh Piglet?” Ivar joked and immediately scrunched up his face when his split lip opened further.

Piglet didn’t say a word, instead she gave him the stink eye and sagged next to him against the wall. Carrying on with the work, she managed to bless him with one facial expression for the rest of the day: one of unreserved contempt, disapproval, distrust and loathing. And the expression was just the start, soon came the grunts and sighs. 

But she never left his side, still cautiously scanning the room to spot any type of danger or a hint that Ludolf might come around the doorway. 

For someone who called him thick-headed, Piglet was pretty guilty of that trait herself. She refused to speak to him and moved a few feet when Ivar poked her between the ribs to probe a word out of her. 

“Pot, kettle, black, Piglet,” Ivar murmured underneath his breath while his stomach howled like a hungry wolf. He hadn’t had much to chew on. Asking for food was out of the question, he already knew the answer to that; none, just two dark smoldering eyes judging his impulsive behavior. 

At twilight, Ivar waited anxiously for Piglet’s arrival. He’d been brought back to the shed by a serf and chained. Piglet had been sent by Big Cunt to fetch some dry firewood for the pot and Ivar hadn’t seen her since. 

Restlessly, his fingers ran along the sharp side of his new toy. The tool felt foreign in his hand, it had been so long since he’d held a weapon of any variety. Yet he didn’t doubt he was still physically able to slash the knife down and hack his way through the Giant’s rib cage. 

He did wonder about the mental aspect of the task. It had occurred to him that he’d stalled in his reaction at the diner table. And why? Why, in a blink of an eye, had he made that radical decision to extend this torturous life for another day? He could have killed the Giant, with enough eyes to witness that it had been him, just him, who’d turned that rotting face into an entire carcass. 

He sighed, leaned back and rolled his eyes. His reason was the same reason why he’d been jittery and biting his nails; Piglet. 

It would be an act of weakness if he left her alone, to deal with Ludolf and his perverted tendencies. 

A load of bricks fell off his chest when Piglet tiptoed into the shed, carrying a tray of food. However, like the soup, her temper was still at its boiling point. 

“How do I know you didn’t piss in it?” Ivar spoke, trying to mask his relief at seeing her waltz in unharmed. 

Piglet raised her chin and gave him a stone-hard expression before sliding the tray over the makeshift line: “You don’t.” 

Well, she managed to ruin his good mood within seconds. He threw her a deadly glare and scanned over the other items to eat. Today's meal was made up of a possibly-pissed-in-soup, two slices of stale bread that was on the verge of growing mold and an egg. 

Ivar settled with the egg, ticked it against the tray and started peeling off the shell. When he wolfed it down, his stomach still growled and he debated if hay could be used for human consumption. 

“I did not piss in it,” Piglet confidently spoke in his language without a stutter.

Ivar eyed her skeptically for a long moment before deciding to believe her, in all honesty he was so hungry he’d eat it anyways. 

“I spat in it,” Piglet announced dryly as Ivar slurped from his soup. Piglet scrunched up her nose, made a disgusting sound in the back of her throat and spat up a gob of sputum on to the floor. 

At the sight of that, Ivar’s gag reflex immediately kicked in and he spat out a mouthful of soup. 

“I joke,” Piglet grinned while Ivar spat repeatedly on the floor. 

“Bitch,” Ivar growled sourly and stole the two slices of stale bread. 

“Numskull,” Piglet retorted and fled the scene for a moment. 

Ivar glared after her while tearing off tiny bits of bread with his front teeth, hoping that if he ate really slowly, he wouldn’t be so hungry. 

Piglet returned with a knitted blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The fabric was thin, torn and had hay intertwined in nearly every inch of it. Without warning or a word, she dropped down directly next to him and drank a little of his soup.

Piglet wiped her mouth and passed him the bowl, indicating it was safe to eat. Ivar gave her a half shrug, dunked the bread into the lukewarm soup and ate, brooding and cursing her under his breath like a full grown man-child. 

Piglet let him enjoy his moment of crankiness and used the time to rid her blanket from some of the hay. As they sat shoulder to shoulder, the blanket radiated her warmth and with a full belly, Ivar started to unwind for a bit and curiosity got the best of him again.

While lingering a sideway glance, Ivar realised he knew nothing of his faithful companion. She had no real name, no past, no roots that he knew of. And she’d been very keen to keep him in the dark, of pretty much everything. 

A plan formed inside his head when he stored the bowl away and asked her: “Wahid, arbe, sitta?”

Of course Piglet was eager to play her game, always happy to get her mind off of her daily struggles and she went to fetch the knucklebones. She returned and sat back in her previous spot, shoulder to shoulder by her shed-mate and threw the bones on the floor. 

“Wait,” Ivar spoke and held up his hands, “I’d like to add a new rule, to make the game a bit more exciting.” 

Piglet could not fully understand his words and gawked at him a little defensively but allowed him to continue.

“We play a round, the winner gets to ask the loser three questions, which the loser needs to answer truthfully.” Ivar said, pointing up three fingers, “oh c’mon Piglet don’t be so sour, wahid, arbe, sitta.” 

It was clear that Piglet did not like this new rule. But when Ivar crossed his hands and made it clear he wasn’t going to participate otherwise, she agreed half heartedly. 

To his discomfort, Ivar lost the first round of the knuckle game, for some reason he hadn’t calculated that his chances of asking the questions had been fifty-fifty. 

With glee and self indulgence, Piglet wiggled her toes and tilted her head to the side in thought, trying to come up with her three questions. Suddenly, her wiggling stopped and Ivar noticed how small the young woman looked from her own two feet to his.

“Maksura, broken,” she formulated, tapped with her stone cold foot against his, “how?” 

Self consciously, Ivar shuffled his feet a few inches away from hers and threw a bunch of hay on his legs in a pathetic attempt to hide his biggest insecurity. 

“I was born like this,” he answered truthfully, “one of nature's mistakes,” he added bitterly. 

Piglet stared up at him dully: “Allah no make mistakes.” 

Ivar snorted, shocked by the nonsense coming from her mouth: “Let me get straight with you Piglet, your God has nothing to do with me. He did not make me, because he doesn’t exist. It’s a false God, like the one those Christians worship. All frauds in the all-seeing eye of Odin.” 

Piglet rolled her eyes at Ivar’s blasphemy and hummed, thinking of her next question. 

“Why fight toothless?” She asked and ticked on her front teeth when Ivar didn’t understand who she was talking about.

“Because I can.” He answered.

“Hamar,” Piglet flatly told him.  

“No, I’m not Piglet!” Ivar snarled aggravated, “the Giant  -the toothless- can break every bone in my body, cut my throat and bleed me dry, but he’ll never have ultimate power over me. I won’t grant him that, you know yourself that there are things far worse in this life then death. And one of them is losing spirit. He’ll never be able to take that from me, I will taunt him, every day, the best I can without dying, until there comes the opportune moment and then I’ll kill him. Yes, I’ll slaughter the toothless,” Ivar added when Piglet’s cheeks lost a bit of their usual dark color, “they days of the toothless are numbered.” 

“Kill?” Piglet spoke breathlessly. 

Ivar chuckled, “yes, of course,” and held up both hands, “with my bare hands. And teeth,” he said and showed her his teeth. 

In her dark eyes, a part of her adoration for him seemed to be shattered. Which was incomprehensible for Ivar, where he came from, murder was not a sin. Murder was one of the numerous ways to become memorable and glorious. Of course his kingdom wasn’t a cradle of pure anarchy, there were rules, rights and punishments, but murder certainly wasn’t the worst crime. 

So when Piglet stared at him, as if he’d suddenly turned into a three headed monster, he felt a twinge of dread in his chest. For he hadn’t done anything wrong, yet she judged him and his ways. 

“If I kill the toothless, you’d perceive me as evil?” he questioned toneless. 

Piglet nodded and stared at her fingers, as she ticked at the hay.

“Why?” Ivar asked, “that man abuses you, beats you, mistreats you. Why am I evil when I rip out his heart?” he emphasized the word when, because he certainly wanted to give her the impression that he would.

Piglet did not answer, instead she picked up the knucklebones and threw them on the floor. This round Ivar managed to win. 

 Now if he wanted to get any information out of Piglet, he needed to play this out with a silk glove, because she already looked at him like a rabbit trapped by a string. 

“What’s your favorite food?”

His first question visibly surprised her and little warmth returned to her face: “basbousa,” she brought her fingers to her lips as her thoughts traveled back to a place far away from the shed. 

“Cake, warm, sticky,” she continued and bit her lip to sustain the happy memory as long as she could. It was all both of them had left, bittersweet reminders of the past that faded faster and faster each day. 

“What’s your favorite animal?” Ivar went on, keeping his questions light.

“Khuruf, sheep,” she answered, plucking at her blanket. 

“And what’s your biggest fear?” Ivar asked. 

“Men,” she stated immediately and Ivar felt the need to punch himself. He’d foolishly expected an answer such as spiders or the dark, for those had been the fears he’d used against the thralls that took care of him when he was young. But of course Piglet’s fear was not of such innocent things.

She picked up the bones and started another game without wasting another breath. Ivar managed to win again to his delight. 

“Where are you from?” 

“Nubia.”

“Nubia?” Ivar repeated, wondering if that was her country or the name of her village, “now where is that?” 

He was prying too much, her eyebrows rose and she huffed: “far.” 

“And how many winters have you been away from Nubia?” Ivar asked.

“Eshr, ten.” 

“What’s your name Piglet? Your real name?” 

His companion remained silent for a while and stared into the distance with a fixed expression before eying him up and down, raising three fingers.

“Three question game,” was all she said before picking up the bones and ambling away. 

Ivar allowed himself to fall back into the hay and let out a frustrated sigh, before shoving hay around and over his body. That woman was utterly frustrating, she hardly spoke a word and if she did it was mostly an insult or a way of belittling him. 

“You better not think you're going to sleep here again,” Ivar snapped when he heard her mince her way back to him, dragging her blanket through the hay and dirt, “that was a one-time deal, you reek and-” 

She wrapped the blanket over his shoulder and silently laid down underneath it with her back against his. Ivar let his fingers feel the thin fabric of the cocoon for the night and sensed the warmth spreading against his tense shoulders. 

“-Fine,” he grunted sullen and nicked some more of the blanket before allowing himself to fall asleep. But just like for the previous night, he slept with one eye open for he was Piglet’s safe keeper. 

 .-.-.

 A/N: For those of you who wonder, Nubia was the ancient name of Sudan. So that’s where Piglet’s from. I know that in this chapter their communication grew a lot and for those who think that’s a little bit too fast or remarkable, remember that Rollo managed to learn French in one episode:P 

 Xoxoxo Nukyster 

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@saldelys

@shannygoatgruff

@pieces-by-me

@apenas-mais-uma-pessoa

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[voreconnoisseur]

Ob.ey Me! Be.el/MC(Reader)

Soft, safe vore with some initial fearplay before turning into fluff. I fixed the formatting.

You’d been witness to the last time someone had carelessly messed with the books in Satan’s room. He and Lucifer had ended up temporarily switching bodies, freaking everyone out in the process. Luckily, everything had worked out in the end, but you were afraid you would not be so lucky with your situation.

You’d borrowed a stack of books from Satan’s room (that is to say, you got Mammon to steal them without asking) in a frantic effort to pull an all-nighter for a quiz in Devildom History. Lately Lucifer had been praising you about how great of an example you were to his brothers, and you were kind of scared about how peeved he’d be if you suddenly dropped in marks. You’d made a big mistake, however, as one of the books once again had a curse on it. (Why were so many objects randomly cursed around here? Perhaps such was simply the nature of demons.)

The book had casted a hex on you that shrunk you down to about half the size of your D.D.D.. To add insult to injury, it had almost crushed you after the fact. And unfortunately, your D.D.D. hadn’t shrunk with you, since you’d had it over on the table while you were reading. And you could no longer reach that table, because you were now on the floor.

You were starting to think your study session was not going to happen.

You made your way over to the door of your room, which you had thankfully not closed completely. You were able to squeeze through the small space between the door at the frame with little effort. Now, to find someone to help you...

Not Satan. He’d probably just step on you for taking his things. Lucifer would likely do the same, or maybe something even worse somehow. You briefly considered talking to Levi as well, but you got the feeling that he might try to dress you up like a figurine or something. That left Mammon, Asmo, Beel, and Belphie. Whoever you encountered first.

You had a long stretch of hallway ahead of you.

***

After what felt like hours of trekking (but was probably more like 20 minutes), you saw someone emerge from their room down the hall.

Beel!

You waved your arms frantically and ran toward him. At the time, he was drawing closer to you. You were in such a hurry that you crashed into his foot. Thankfully, he noticed you instead of stepping on you.

The world lurched as Beel snatched you up and brought you close to his face.

“What’s that? Why would someone leave a dumpling out here?” he asked aloud, licking his lips. It was then that you’d noticed the familiar glossy state his violet eyes were in. You’d caught him looking like this many times before, staking out the kitchen to try and prevent him from eating all the food. Beel sleepwalked sometimes. And worse still—sleep-ate.

Oh no.

You squirmed in his hand, trying to get him to realize what he was doing.

“BEELZEBUB! It’s me! Not a dumpling!”

But he was already placing your tiny body into his mouth.

The demon’s lips closed around your legs, which he then pulled into his mouth with a quick slurp. Trapped now between Beel’s jaws, you cold feel his tongue tasting you, covering you in saliva. He let out a soft moan, still deep in his trance.

“Mmmphhh... ssho good.”

His tongue flipped you over and you panicked as you realized he was pushing you toward his teeth. You grasped tightly onto the muscle, and somehow barely managed to squirm out of the way of the grinding death trap to your side.

Beel’s mouth was filling up quickly with saliva. Before you even had a chance to breathe after your brush with death, or call out again, the tongue you were grasping shifted. And it was far too slick for you to hold on.

Beel swallowed. Hard. The saliva drained away behind you, and shortly after, you could feel your legs following suit. Strong and *very well practiced* muscles dragged you downward. You frantically grasped upward at Beel’s tongue, trying to hold on, but your hands were slippery, like everything else.

“No, no no no, BEEL! Stop!”

Instead, he swallowed again, forcing you all the way down into his throat. Peristalsis pulled you deeper, kneading at your body and making it difficult to breathe. Eventually, you hit Beel’s empty stomach with a splash.

This was the worst possible place you could be. Knowing Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony, you’d be digested in minutes, maybe even seconds, leaving his stomach empty once again. You’d seen him eat and presumably digest inedible objects occasionally. There probably wouldn’t even be a trace of your clothing or bones.

Poor Beel wouldn’t even realize what he’d done.

The thought broke your heart. That was the last straw. You started kicking up a fuss, determined to make it out alive, and as soon as possible. You punched and kicked at the stomach walls, only to have them clench tight around you. Curse his rock solid abs!

Beel still didn’t seem to have noticed your predicament. You kept squirming, briefly wondering if he had ever eaten anything else alive. Beel was a kind soul, but you still weren’t entirely sure it was beneath him to pop something alive in his mouth, provided it tasted good, just to sate his hunger. He was a demon, after all. Would he even let you out if you did get his attention?

No. You were friends. Of course he would.

Suddenly, Beel spoke up again, flooding you with relief.

“Wait, what’s happening? Oof, my stomach...”

You could feel a new pressure against you, as if something was pressed up against Beel from the outside. If he said anything like “I’m hungry” with a stomach full of you, you would immediately flip your lid.

“Beel! In here!” you cried.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

“I’m in your gut, stupid!” You gave another shove, hoping he’d be awake enough to connect the dots.

“Ow... In my... Why are you in my stomach? How did this happen?”

“I got shrunk by one of Satan’s books and ran into you. And you were half asleep. You ATE me, Beel. Now please, let me out before I die in here!”

You felt Beel’s stomach tighten around you again. Despite the slickness, you were held pretty firmly in place.

“That might be a problem.”

“What? Why?!” You managed to force yourself to shout despite the pressure on you. “Just make yourself throw up or something!”

“I don’t throw up food that has gone down into my stomach. I don’t think I even could if I tried.” You remembered Beel had mentioned this a few times before, but at the time, it hadn’t been nearly as life threatening. You’d thought it was a joke, and now...

You could feel Beelzebub’s heartbeat above you speeding up. He was probably just as worried as you were, though he was rather stoic and didn’t always show his worries in his tone of voice.

“But I’m not food, Beel. Try anyway. It can’t hurt.”

You were squeezed and thrown about as Beel doubled over, coughing and hacking, trying his hardest to get you out, but nothing worked. Eventually, you could hear him slump to the floor, breathing heavily. You fell, too, to the squishy bottom of the organ you were entombed in.

“It’s no use. I can’t do it. I’m sorry...”

You felt awful for Beel; even more awful than you did for yourself. This really wasn’t his fault. It was just how his body worked. You weren’t ready to give up yet, though. You gave Beel your best attempt at a belly rub to make him feel better (you knew how much he liked them, though you weren’t sure how it would feel from the inside). As you ran your hands over the soft ripples of his stomach, you spoke.

“It’s ok. I know you didn’t mean to do this. I’m sorry for calling you stupid, too. It’s going to be alright. Let’s find someone to help us; I bet Lucifer will know what to do.” Beel moaned at the suggestion.

“Lucifer is going to kill me for putting you in danger. That’s not even an exaggeration.” You were pretty sure Lucifer WOULD kill Beel over this, but maybe once you were out you could convince him otherwise. You kept massaging Beel and added:

“We can deal with that later. I’ll stand up for you. Though, I won’t be able to stand up too tall... Anyway, he’ll definitely help me out, even if just for the sake of the exchange program.”

“Alright. Let’s go wake him up.”

***

“...And that’s what happened.” Beel sighed, having explained the situation.

Lucifer was silent for a moment, and then spoke, a familiar edge creeping into his voice.

“Were it any of our other brothers, I would assume this was some kind of asinine prank in poor taste, but seeing as it’s you, Beelzebub, and at this hour, I believe it. Come here.”

You could feel something push against where you laid, and you could hear Lucifer’s voice emanating from the spot, so you could assume he had put his ear up to Beel’s belly to hear you. As he did, it happened to let out a loud groan, almost as if in protest.

“...Y/n? Are you still alive?”

“I’m okay!” you called out. “Just a bit stuck.”

“You’re not hurt?”

“No, I’m fine actually.”

“Then stand back. I��m going to cut you out.” The ”edge” had taken over Lucifer’s voice. He was definitely pissed, but this wasn’t fair! You didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

“Wait!” you cried. Beel’s organs had become very tense again, his body preparing for the upcoming disembowelment. You knew he wouldn’t fight back, either. You had to stop this now.

“It was my fault. I was the one who stole Satan’s books. Don’t cut open your own brother just because I did something stupid.”

“...You’re right. I did expect better from you, Y/N. I have an idea.” You could feel Lucifer’s head move away, and then his hand give a few quick taps to the spot it once rested. “I think I’ll leave you in there for a few more hours as punishment.”

“Won’t Y/N die!?” Beel objected.

“No. The curse they’re under is intended to be a deterrent to thieves, not a death curse. It’s supposed to make the victim too small to take anything. The purpose would be defeated if they were swiftly killed by being stepped on or something like that. They should be immune to any bodily harm until it wears off.”

“But if it wears off while I’m still inside—“

“It won’t. Come back tomorrow, and I’ll have Barbatos teleport you out. In the meantime, I’m going to have a good night’s sleep.”

There was no use arguing with Lucifer. You slumped to the soft, slick bottom of the sack you were in and stared blindly upward at the roof of what would be your new home for the next few hours.

“I’ll come back tomorrow, then.” Beel said dejectedly. You felt him move to leave and let the swaying of his body relax you. At the very least, neither of you were going to die. You weren’t particularly uncomfortable, either.

***

You waited until Beel had returned to his room and sat down (presumably, you couldn’t see). You felt him press his hand against you rather delicately before addressing you.

“Belphie’s out somewhere right now, which is probably for the best. I don’t know if I could face him right now...” You could understand. You’d rather it just be the two of you anyway. You pushed your tiny hands up to his, wondering if he could feel it at all through the layers of flesh. “Are you okay in there? I don’t know if there’s anything I can do if you’re not.”

“I’m completely fine,” you replied, and it was the truth. “It’s pretty comfy in here, actually. What about you, Beel? I’m more worried about you. I did kick you a bit, after all.” You were squeezed gently as Beel laughed quietly.

“I don’t think anything you could do would upset my stomach.” He paused for a moment. “Actually, if anything, it feels really nice having you there. I don’t feel hungry at all. Is this what it’s like to feel full?”

You couldn’t answer that. Instead, you started to rub Beel’s stomach walls again, hoping he’d find the feeling pleasant. You were starting to really appreciate the texture of your surroundings: it was warm and soft, and now that you weren’t in any danger, you felt extremely safe inside the demon you’d made a pact with. You ran your hands in large circles, over and over again, letting the repetition and quiet gurgling soothe you into almost a trance.

“That feels... really nice...”

You noticed in the darkness that you were slowly beginning to be able to see something. Beel’s stomach had a soft red glow that appeared when you rubbed it, almost as if it were blushing. You were glad you were hidden from sight, as you were certain you were blushing a bit too. It was probably some kind of magic to do with his being the Avatar of Gluttony. It didn’t make you feel uneasy or anything, so instead you just appreciated the fact you could now see a little.

“I guess I can’t study anymore for that test tomorrow,” you complained. “Well, if I fail, I fail. There are worse reasons I could have failed it.”

“Wait, what test—“

Beel was interrupted by someone opening the bedroom door. You suddenly heard Belphegor’s voice, full of suspicion, question:

“Beel, who are you talking to?”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

The Bad Guy (G.D. Gang AU)

Summary: The world sees him as Grayson Dolan - the CEO of Dolan enterprises, an entrepreneur. Y/N will soon find a much darker side to the world’s favorite bachelor.  

Warnings: language, alcohol use, smut, fluff, angst, violence…

Word count: 27.6k

The Bad Guy Masterlist

A week I had been down here, listening to Grayson’s stubborn grunts and dry chuckles, coated in defiance and poison. A week I had spent in the cold, dark basement as leverage where I had been beaten and degraded in hopes of breaking him.

I’m not afraid anymore. Not for myself, but for him alone. Hearing them take turns torturing the man I had come to love in spite of my better judgement, I knew if he didn’t give them information they seek it would be his end.

Me?

I knew how my story would end. I think I knew it since the moment I said ‘fuck it’ and gave my heart to Grayson Dolan, leader of the most powerful gang on US soil.

I knew what would happen to me; that I’d meet my end at the edge of a sharp blade or at the barrel of a gun. I just didn’t know who would be on the other end.

It would be to break him, the final nail in the coffin.

They’ve tried hurting me in front of him, but he barely budged. He didn’t even flinch when I took punch after punch until I passed out. The merciless, unemotional coldness in his eyes never withered. His claim of no attachment to me remained despite their threats.

It stung, even knowing he said it in hopes of my release.

My skin has ruptured above the growing purple blooms. Every movement hurts. I am battered on the inside worse than any broken bone and without a doctor who can even detect the damage.

I sat curled up against the wall, shivering in my underwear and clutching to the already faded scent of his shirt. It was either suffocatingly quiet or pierced with the screams of tortured people, not only Grayson’s. I’ve learned to distinguish the sounds for Grayson never once screamed, not even when he was walking the line of life and death. He’s too proud to give them the satisfaction.

The never-ending punches from down the hall, behind the steel doors, they never stop. Angry shouting never stops.

Until they do.

Quick, heavy footsteps near me. Determined walking, I could tell. It wasn’t a good sign for me, not after the last time. The last time ended with me coughing up a lung and him losing consciousness after they punched him so hard I could have sword his neck broke.

The door opens and I jump to my feet, placing an invisible mask of stubborn fearlessness, hoping to hide my true emotions.

“Walk.” The order is simple, just as the gun pointed at my head. The man tilts his head, instructing me to move instead of staring at his bloodied hands. The dry blood meant it wasn’t his turn to torture Grayson, but me.

I obey his wishes, knowing I have no choice. It’s either listen or die…there’s no in between.

Walking down the dark hallway, seeing a small light at the end where Grayson is held, I hold my breath in anticipation of what is waiting for me once I arrive.

What will I find in there? A man too stubborn to die or his corpse after all the animalistic things they’ve done to him?

Pushed inside, I stumble forward, my legs weak from days of starvation and dehydration, the beating and loss of sleep.

Lips quivering, I look away from the barely recognizable image of the man I love. His face is made out of blood and bruises, cuts on every inch of his once impeccable skin. His eyes are swollen over, barely open and bloody spit drooled from his slack jaws. His hair is matted, no longer styled immaculate as he wore it before. He’s shirtless, only giving way for more injuries that line his body.

He’s barely alive, but he still refuses to talk.

I’m not even sure what this man wants from us, nor what Grayson did to anger him. I just know it will end us both if he keeps up his nonnegotiable attitude.

Refusing to cry, I keep my pieces close, not allowing them to shatter. If I shatter right now, I didn’t know what it would do to him.

“Now. I’ve had a change of heart.” The man smirks, putting a hand around me carelessly. I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, trying hard to restrain myself from acting up when I know I’m no match for him. I try my best not to look at Grayson, averting my eyes to the ground instead.

“I’m willing to let you go.” He says slyly, his raw voice brutal against my ear. Disgusted by his proximity, I struggle against him, shooting my right leg out but my movements are far too slow. Hands moving from my waist, the stranger seized my arms, trapping them to my side.

“It’s obvious this one will not admit to anything to save you…so…I want to offer you an out.” His tongue brushed my earlobe, forcing me to hold back on gagging as nauseating swirls began to dance in my very empty stomach.

He slides his hand down my right arm, forcing something cold and heavy in the palm of my hand. He wraps my fingers around the metal, his breath that smells of cigarettes and alcohol overwhelming my senses.

“Make the shot and you can go free.” That’s when I realized what he gave me. A gun.

“Try anything and my men will blow both your brains out.” He warns, finally stepping away from me.

I lift my hand up, biting down on my lower lip mercilessly as I gaze upon the deadly weapon in my possession. I’m trying to figure out if trying to aim the gun at someone else would be possible.

Closing my eyes with a slight shake of my head, I aim the gun at a calm Grayson and meet his gaze.

There is nothing behind the hazel swirls I loved so dearly, not a trace of the man I cherished. His eyes aren’t even hazel anymore, but brown and bloodied, barely giving way to the color I adored.

In those earthy hues was his soul, not in the way those cheesy romance novels described, so obsessed with lust, but with the kind of beauty that expands a moment into a personal eternity, a heaven you wish to be a part of. A heaven I got to be a part of.

That’s all gone now.

“Maybe this will make it easier for you.” The man speaks up, noticing the continuous trembling of my hands, my entire body at that.

“The very first night we took you, I told him we’d kill you…after taking turns raping you. He said: do as you please. She means nothing to me.” My eyes widen at the words, feeling as if I’ll break like a porcelain figurine. Once I break, nothing will put me back together again. Not even Grayson.

Could he ever say such a thing?

Could he sacrifice me for his business?

He always told me I’d never be his priority, so is this him keeping his word?

My rage grew, but I knew I’d never be able to pull the trigger. I might not be his priority, but he’s always been mine. I can hate him for his actions, never forgive him for what he had done…but he won’t die by my hand.

Not tonight.

I shook my head rapidly disallowing my second thoughts to get the better of me. Faltering, the gun is ripped out of my hand and I whimper at the forceful takeover.

“That’s disappointing.” He spat at me, but I didn’t fret.

They untie Grayson, placing the gun in his hand as well. He wouldn’t do this to me. I’m not afraid.

Faith - mine floated away from me a very long time ago, like a leaf being pulled away on the tide, and into the sea to become lost and alone, likely drowned. But I have faith in Grayson. I’ve always trusted him, not doubting he’d protect me.

That’s why this is much more painful than it had to be.

Without a second thought, in a single heartbeat, he aimed the gun at me and cocked his head.

“Sorry darling. Nothing personal.” And then he pulled the trigger.

One year earlier

Have you ever felt change in the air? Like something big, unstoppable is coming for you, prepared to turn your life around into something you can’t recognize?

I’ve felt that this entire day, deep in my bones.

Driving to a night shift at a bar wasn’t a part of that feeling. That’s routine. At least for me it is.

It’s been that way ever since I moved to New York and started classes in NYU because I couldn’t afford tuition in Columbia, my dream school. I wanted to study medicine, to get a degree and make my parents proud. They say that children rarely surpass what their parents became and I came from a salesman and a music teacher that were born and raised in a town so small it doesn’t show on many maps…in this day and age, I had nowhere to go but up.

I swore I’d leave that town and if working late nights at a bar in a popular club, flirting for tips is the way to go, then I’d do just that.

“VIP section wants whiskey on the rocks.” Carmen gave the order and I nod, grabbing glasses. Two years behind the bar gave me enough experience to do most things with eyes closed, but when it’s the good stuff they require all your senses sharpen.

“How many?” I ask, taking the bottle of our finest whiskey.

“Eight.” She bends down, picking up a bottle of tequila for drunk frats on the other end of the bar and I gawk at her.

“This should make a nice tip!” If the guys have hundreds of dollars to spend on eight glasses of whiskey, I’m sure a wink paired with a smile would get me at least a third if not more of the original price.

Older they are, creepier but more generous they get. I’ve learned that fast. However, they were easy to impress. The young guys were those who actually expected innocent flirting to go further and got pissed when I put them in their place, denying me a proper tip at that.

Assholes.

Adding ice, I take the tray and make my way to the VIP section, swaying lightly to the beat. I couldn’t risk spilling these drinks for they cost as much as my kidneys, so I quickly stopped myself and plastered a smile before entering the section behind a velvet rope.

One look is enough for me to groan internally, seeing five young men and three men in their fifties.

“Frank.” I lean closer to the guard, making sure he’s aware I might need him. Although he’s always been there in time, I had to remind him for my sake.

“Stay close. I might need you.” Frank nods, his pale blue eyes darkening once he looks back at the men in their fancy suits.

“No worries, little one. Always am. Keeping my eye on them.”

Extremely self-conscious of my slightly exposing uniform, I take a deep breath and step up to the podium with their table.

Eight men sitting, three standing - guards most likely.

In the center of the table sit two almost identical men, both in suits and looking like they belong on a runway instead of the crowd they’re with. But only one of the two caught my eye.

Shaking my head slightly, I move closer once the same guy looks up at me, eyeing me up and down before rolling his eyes and waving me over.

Oh, here we go.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” I coat my voice in unnecessary sweetness, hoping to smooth over the waiting time that added up in my hesitation to approach them.

I started placing a glass in front of each man, ignoring the fact someone’s hand is brushing my ass and most of them are peering at my cleavage for a better view.

“We won the jackpot tonight boys!” The man who clearly knows no bounds taps my ass and I jump up, knocking over the last glass all over one of the guests.

Gasping, eyes wide in horror, I feel cold sweat wash over me.

“I’m so sorry, sir!” I begin apologizing profusely, hands trembling as I dab his thigh with a rag until his hand firmly grasps my wrist, stopping me effectively.

“Stop!” He practically growls at me, forcing me to look up despite my want to disappear.

“Get me another.” His voice clears as he looks into my eyes, the dark brown enticing me to nod silently. I realize just now that it’s the same man I first noticed upon entering, the one who called me over. Denying myself the pleasure to look at him any better, I nod curtly.

“Right away sir!” I squeal, swallowing thickly when I feel a hand on my lower back again. Turning around, I face the dickhead who made me spill and glare at him.

“Please don’t touch the servers, sir.” My voice is anything but pleasant and I don’t care. Fondling is where I draw the line. Slapping the unwanted hand away from me, I walk around him and start walking away on wobbly legs. Hearing a loud, gruff laugh, I glance back at the table only to see the old bastard enjoying his advances and the fact he got away scot free.

I grimace, trying to hold back tears and run the hell out of there with Frank calling after me.

“Get me a glass of that whiskey on rocks and a shot for me.” I ask Carmen, my voice as shaky as I feel.

Nauseous, skin crawling, screaming inside - that’s how I feel. There’s always someone throwing unsavory comments my way, but almost none have ever put their hands on me in that degree.

“You alright, hon?” Carmen gave me a sympathetic smile as I shook my head and quickly downed the shot.

“Nah. But I will be.” Shrugging, I grab the tray and head back, a little more confident than I left. A shot can do a girl wonders when necessary.

Coming nearby, I find one of the guards pushing that old sack of shit out the back door and stop, unable to contain a smile.

“I’m sorry I -” Frank stops me, but I pass right by, preparing to face the music again.

The table is now a man short, my heart a little calmer.

Placing the drink before the young man, I apologize once more only to find the guard that escorted that ass take his place behind the same guy.

“Thank you.” I whisper to the guard, turning to leave when a hand wrapped around my wrist again.

“You’re thanking the wrong man.” He glances at me, releasing my hand and I turn back around, eyes gliding over the men around him and the man I deemed his brother beside him. His brother is the only one watching the interaction, none of the others seems to dare look at me.

“Thank you for stepping in, especially after the spilling incident.” I swallow my pride and thank him for intervening, deciding he deserves it.

Waiting for a response, for a look my way at the very least, I quickly realize it won’t happen when his hand sets mine free.

I’m left looking at his stylish brown hair and sharp jawline instead, unable to see much more from this angle. He’s got wide shoulders, that I can be sure of.

“Well, uh…if that’s all.” I step back, lips set in a firm line until his voice coaxed me to stop.

“A bill would be great.” He reminds me, looking up at me with a raised eyebrow and I stop, tapping my pockets for the bill in panic. If I don’t have a bill, legally they don’t have to pay for a single thing which means I am the one paying for it. I can’t afford that to happen.

Feeling the crumbled paper in my left back pocket, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’ve been holding and unfold the paper in front of him.

“Wait.” He stops me once more and I tense up, biting my lip.

“Yes, sir?”

“You only put down eight drinks. We had nine this evening.” He points out and I frown, licking my lips.

“I’ve spilled one, sir.” I remind him sheepishly, growing uncomfortable under his unrelenting state.

Unexpectedly, the man stands up and my level of distress skyrockets.

He is TALL tall and very muscular, even under the suit it’s obvious. His eyes are dark and knowing, his nose perfectly shaped for his face, all his features sharp and appealing like something out of a Taylor Swift song.

He’s so tall and handsome as hell. He’s so bad, but he does it so well? Sounds about right.

“What happens when you spill a drink?” He steps closer, lights dancing on his skin as I feel my heart thundering inside my chest.

He looks like a walking Taylor Swift song, but he feels like he just walked out of a Lana del Rey’s song.

His presence alone commands awe, respect and his charisma can make any human stop and forget what they’re doing so long as it pleases him. He is magnetic, electric, someone you can get lost in before knowing what’s happening.

But he’d never go for a girl like me. His suit alone costs more than my car.

“I pay for the damage, sir.” I respond confidently, surprising myself with the calm and collected front I had put on.

His eyes narrow at me, just enough for him to make out my features better in the darkness.

“How much is one glass of this whiskey?” He pushes further and I gulp, wondering if he can see my heart beating out my chest. What does any of this have to do with him anyway? It’s becoming literal torture to speak to him where we both lean forward to hear the other better and none of that leaning forward ends with his lips on mine.

“Two hundred dollars, sir.” I answer, feeling my breathing turn more shallow by the minute.

“You don’t strike me as someone who can afford something like that.” He points out and I chuckle nervously, shrugging.

“All part of my job.”

He grabs his back pocket, pulling out a black leather wallet and opens it up, exposing an impressive bundle of cash.

I couldn’t not stare at the money, nor wrap my mind around the fact people just walk around with that amount like it’s nothing.

“Here.” He hands me the money.

“That’s for nine glasses.” He continues to grab more money, counting silently as his plush lips move accordingly.

“And for your efforts.” He pockets a rather large looking sum in my apron, knocking the wind out of me.

“That’s too much, sir. I can’t accept this.” I try to give the money back when he reaches out and takes my hand in his, holding it captive.

“Take it. It will do you much more good than it could for me.” He states, not breaking eye contact that has become far too intimate for my taste.

“And it’s Grayson. Sir makes me feel old.”

I nod, walking away, certain I’d never see Grayson again.

But he was there the next night.

And the night after that.

And many more to come.

He always requests me as their server by name, somehow knowing it without me ever saying it. He never addressed me by it, but I knew he knew.

Every night consists of him and his brother, Ethan as I’ve been told, coming by and taking the same table in the VIP section, their guard with them.

Every night I bring them whiskey on the rocks, the two hundred a glass type, and every night he gives me a tip so generous that I finally learned what it meant to buy a new book to study from instead of handy downs.

And I love the smell of new books!

Grayson would barely speak to me, politely exchanging orders and thank you’s, but each night his discreet looks started becoming less and less discreet.

Three weeks in, he didn’t bother just glancing at me with his serious face on and a very hardened look he kept steady for whoever would join the table that night. He didn’t just glance, but stare every chance he got. And despite my better judgement, I stared back.

“Keep the rest, Y/N.” Grayson’s three thousand dollars in my hands shocked me, especially when the bill was just a little over a thousand and a half. It’s also the first time ever he used my name in a conversation. And I liked it. The way my name rolled over his pretty pink lips left me in shackles of lust he evoked.

“I can’t keep taking all this money, Grayson.” I leaned in, speaking through gritted teeth.

“Y/N Y/L/N, early twenties, student and living in a studio apartment. Yes, I know the exact age which I’ll keep quiet because it’s rude to talk about a lady’s age, and yes, I know your exact address, but I’d like you to feel comfortable around me so I’ll keep it to myself. You need this money and you earn it every night. I award those who do their jobs well, so take it and don’t question it.” He tapped my shoulder, the air around us turning static with contact as it always does when he touched me, accidentally or not.

“You had me investigated?” I whisper shout, prepared to call Frank on him. This goes beyond creepy, it’s stalkerish!

“I like to know who works in my close proximity. Nothing to worry about.” Winking, he walked back to the table and grabbed his jacket, snapping his fingers and the rest stood with him, leaving as I’m left gobsmacked. All he had to give me is a quick glance over the shoulder as he folded the jacket over his forearm, leaning in as he stopped beside me.

“I’m sure you investigated me too.” His cologne alone is enough to make my head spin, let alone the muscles bulging under his white dress shirt. He fixed his tie, pursed his lips when he noticed I barely blink anymore and walked away.

That’s all it was, just looks and occasional eyebrow raise, not even a smile to spare.

Two months in, that’s when I got my first smile. And although he was wrong the first time around, I did do my research on him in the meantime as he was gone for a few weeks.

A businessman with restaurants, clubs, gyms even, all over the country! He owns a studio in LA as well! His company DT media, which he started with his twin brother is one of the most lucrative companies in the world.

He’s not just rich, he’s filthy rich! Squeaky clean record, most eligible bachelor, prince charming in this day and age.

Yes, I needed a couple of shots to truly take that in.

“Missed me?” He smirked once I came up to the table with his usual order, his ear now sporting a wing shaped earring like I’ve seen in the photos, but never on him. He traded in a suit for a leather jacket, only adding on his bad boy look.

“Those abs? Yes. Those remarks? Nope!” I’m no longer stiff around him, openly sassing back which he seems to like.

His lips curl upwards, the soft skin spreading until his pearly whites showed, blurred with an amused shake of his head.

“Oh! So, he can smile! I can die in peace!” I teased, giggling at him for he now chuckled as well.

A smirk, a smile and a chuckle all at once? I truly got blessed.

“Funny! For your information, I missed you.” Grayson didn’t hold back, which stunned me for a second. He’s truly in a good mood tonight. He’s never flirted with me, not like that. It was all – tortured and broody, all in stolen glances and accidental touches kind of a flirtation.

“Good to know.” I smile, genuinely unsure what to say to that. What do people say to these things?

I felt his eyes on me as I walked away, managing to resist the urge to look back at him. I’m sure he missed seeing me walk away just as much as he missed me.

But when I returned, he wasn’t happy. Hunched over and talking in hush voices, Ethan and Grayson looked almost panicked.

Until Grayson saw me and ran up to me with a wild look in his brownish - hazel eyes.

“I need to borrow your car.” He states and I scoff, thinking he’s joking. A man of his stature needs to borrow my old car? Funny.

“Keys, Y/N! Now!” He raised his voice at me, shaking me up for he never did that after I initially spilled a drink on him. He’s always been calm and patient. This is a new side to him. One I’ve never seen.

“It’s a piece of junk. Might not even start.” I defend my Impala, the only object in my life that matters to me.

“It’s a matter of life and death, okay?! Please?” I didn’t need anymore convincing, fishing out my keys. He snatched them out my hand, pressing a hard, quick peck to my cheek as he and Ethan ran out the back, giving me a view of a gun Ethan had in the back of his jeans.

I’m not sure what stunned me more: the peck or the gun. What the hell does he need a gun for?

Grayson didn’t return the next night. Nor the next one. Not that week, leaving me frustrated after getting a call from the police about my wrecked car, abandoned in Brooklyn.

Without a car, or any answers, I took matters in my own hands.

I walked into DT media every day after class and requested to see Grayson Dolan only to be turned around.

Unlucky for him, I’m not a quitter.

I badgered his business on daily basis over internet, phones, letters, faxes, in person. All in order to get something concrete to justify why I no longer have my car…the only thing I gave a damn about.

Until luck struck like lightning.

“Grayson Bailey Dolan!” I shouted in the lobby, catching his fleeting figure leaving the elevator.

He tensed up, turning toward me with a stony face and a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

I rushed toward him, glaring at him on the way.

“You’ve been a pain in the ass these days.” Grayson states, not allowing me to speak first and I chuckle dryly.

“And you borrowed my car, wrecked it and abandoned it in Brooklyn!” I grumble, certain my blood pressure is off the charts.

“So?” He clicks his tongue, lifting his right hand to check the time as if this conversation is just another thing he wants to wrap up and get rid of me.

“So?!” I look at him in disbelief, my blood boiling.

“It took me four hundred dollars to get it back after it was impounded by police! Two hundred to tow it to the nearest mechanic! And now they say it will cost me more to fix the car than to buy a new one!” My voice echoed throughout the fairly empty lobby, most people dare not look our way just like in the club.

“Again. Why is this my problem?” Grayson points a finger at himself and I am sure my eyes now hold actual flames from the fire he unleashed inside me.

“I want my damn car fixed, Grayson! Cough up the cash or get me your insurance company info, do something!” Voice raw from shouting, I found myself at my wits end, ready to give up.

“I have no idea why I’d do that for you. I had nothing to do with your car being totaled.” He shrugged, walking past me.

I grab him by the arm, forcing him to stop and look at me. His muscles are hard, big under my touch and his eyes threatening as he towers over me with his lips set in a firm line. His forehead wrinkles and a single hair falls out of place on his perfect head.

Straightening my back, I look him straight in the eyes, not allowing his built to intimidate me.

“You will fix my car or I’ll be your worst nightmare.” With my voice dark and low, I realize I’m actually threatening a man much more powerful than I could ever be.

“If you think I was a nuisance before, you’ll be shocked to see how far I’ll go to get what’s mine.” With that, I let go of him and walk right by him, intentionally ramming my shoulder into his. It hurt me more than it hurt him, but it’s the message behind that move that counts!

Next time I saw him was a week later, once more in his seat at the club and my services requested again.

“Hello, my little nuisance.” He greets me with a wide smile, taking the glass in his hand before I have the chance to put it before him.

I huffed, narrowing my eyes at him chiefly to take in the leather jacket, bad guy, James Dean look he’s sporting instead of the usual suit and tie I’ve come to love.

This felt more relaxed, but much more dangerous. The last time I saw him wearing leather was the night I said goodbye to my car.

“Anything else, sir?” I emphasize, making his brother burst into laughter, Grayson himself placing a hand over his chest.

“Ouch, doll. What did I ever do to deserve this?” He faked a pained expression, but a smile on his lips is a dead giveaway this is all just a joke to him.

“I’m not your doll! And you owe me something.” I lean back, grabbing my tray from the table quickly.

But he is quicker than I am.

In moments, his arm wrapped around my elbow, pulling me into his now standing form. I gasp involuntarily due to a mixture of genuine surprise and his body against mine.

Firm in all the right places, that’s the first thing I notice.

Warm, engulfing me in that warmth, that’s the second one.

Smell of cologne and not the store bought kind like I’m used to, but the expensive kind where one bottle would pay for my car to be fixed. That’s the third.

“When your shift ends, I’ll be waiting.” With that, he let go of me and a sudden wave of polar coldness spread through me. The tone he used wasn’t meant to frighten me, but a part of me did fear him. There’s more to the Grayson Dolan who wears suits and expensive watches than it meets the eye. There’s something there, much more sinister than anyone could comprehend.

I rushed back to the bar, still holding my breath as my lungs begin to burn from the lack of oxygen. I watched the clock with dread, seeing I have an hour left and to my surprise, I wasn’t called back for Grayson slipped me the cash when he let go of me.

Confident he forgot, I walked outside and almost had a heart attack when I saw him leaning on a baby blue Porsche with his arms crossed over his chest.

A car parked behind his was a simple jeep, his brother behind the wheel.

“Why are you here?” I cross my arms too, holding my bag closer.

“You said I owe you and well, I’m a man who pays his debts.” The confident smirk of his reappears, wiping all my confidence away in an instance.

“Like it?” He gestures to the car and I furrow my eyebrows in response.

“Your dream car if I’m right?” It’s a rhetorical question, that much is clear. His glances from the car to me only fuel my confusion. How deep did he go when he investigated me?

“Yes. But -” I begin, raising my right hand to my temple, pressing two fingers to it to ease the growing pressure.

“It’s yours.” Grayson states and I feel my legs lose their footing and waver.

“The fuck?! Grayson I asked for a few thousands to fix my Impala, not for a Porsche!” I shout, my voice high and almost shrill from the shock.

“Are you seriously yelling at me for giving you your dream car?” Grayson chuckles, sauntering toward me with the dreamiest look in his dark eyes. I pause, noticing the power behind those breathtaking eyes. The power that's as reckless as a tornado. His eyes flash. For a moment they look golden with warmth... and as careless as hell.

Pushing my hair back, securing it behind my ears, I look at him in disbelief.

“It’s a very beautiful car, but I can’t accept something so expensive.” Trying to keep my voice leveled, I sigh, rubbing my forehead now.

“Yes, you can. You deserve actual beauty in your life…well, beauty besides yourself.” He states, coming closer and my eyes widen, wild in the realization he just complimented me without a second thought.

“You’re not my sugar daddy and I am not a gold digger, Grayson.” I barely get the words out before he closes the distance between us, pressing his index finger to my lips. Tentatively, he traces my cupid bow, then my lower lip as if he’s searching something in the smallest of nooks of the soft flesh.

“I just want you to have something nice for once. Just accept the car, okay?” A part of me felt self-conscious with our close proximity, wondering if he can see the growing zit on my left cheek or if he could notice the eye bags I’ve been trying to cover up with a ton of make-up but failed, but another part of me hoped he would stop this torture where my heart thumped so strongly when he neared me and just kiss me already, ending the intoxicating desire to have him closer than humanly possible.

And just as I give in, gravitating toward him, slowly standing on my tiptoes, Grayson takes two steps back, making me nearly fall in his sudden need for space.

“Take the car, because it’s used. Does that help?” He continues his mission to convince me and I let out a shaky breath upon the loss of his touch. I wanted him. Now I knew that for sure. I longed for him.

“Used?” I raise a brow in question, wanting to keep the conversation going simply to have him with me longer.

“I already had it cleaned, but I may have christened the back seat twice…the front seat a couple times more.” My eyes popped at his confession, disgust at the implications and jealousy for I wanted that and although I’m not an idiot to assume he’s untouched, I didn’t need to picture him with other girls in the very car he’s offering me.

The keys come flying at me and I barely catch them before they smack my chest. Grayson walks to the other car, opening the Jeep doors with a wink sent my way.

However, I rushed after him, pocketing the keys in his jacket.

“Goodnight, sir.”

Walking away, I heard a loud groan and smiled at the sound. Wrapping my jacket around my body tighter, folding my arms over my chest for additional warmth, I keep walking into the night on high alert. Its pass two after midnight and I’m a cautious type. And for good reason.

“Get in.” A car stops beside me - a baby blue Porsche.

“Nope.” I don’t spare him a second look. He needs to learn to let things go. I’m certain he’s never had a woman say no to him before.

“Y/N, get in or I will make you get in!” He shouts, practically growling and I shake my head, keeping my eyes ahead.

That’s when he stops the car and is by me in a heartbeat. Next thing I know, I’m pushed into the car with a fleeting warmth from his arms before the door locks and I find myself stuck inside as Grayson sits in the passenger’s seat.

“What the fuck, Grayson?!” I try to open the door again, getting a smug smile on his behalf.

“You’re walking the streets dressed like that so late? Not on my watch.” His gruff voice and fingers paling against the steering wheel made me pipe down, knowing he’s right. Yes, it’s dangerous, but I had no choice in the matter.

“Well, someone ruined my car.” I mumble under my breath and he sighs, shaking his head at me before craning his neck to look at me properly.

“I’ll get your fucking car fixed, okay?” The language he uses matched his frustration with me and I could hardly contain my smile.

“So stubborn.” He’s the one mumbling now and my efforts to keep a smile at bay fail me and he notices almost immediately.

“Oh, you think this is funny? Let’s see how funny it is when I drive you home every night until I have your car fixed.” And my smile is effectively replaced with lips parting and eyes narrowing at the handsome man beside me. Okay, it’s not necessarily a bad thing to get more time with a handsome man such as himself, but the fact he’s so determined unnerves me.

“You’re not the boss of me, okay? I understand you’re used to bossing everyone around and having things your way, but I’m not a doll you can play with and expect to obey your unwritten rules.” Pulling my bag closer to my chest, I avert my gaze to the window, looking out to see he is driving me straight home because as he said it before, he knows where I live.

“I’m sorry.” He says through gritted teeth, like the words in his mouth are alien, acid. I’m sure he’s not the type to spew apologies often. It makes me appreciate the effort even more.

“I just want you safe. Is that a good enough reason to drive you home after I destroyed your car?” He asks, stopping in front of my building and I turn to him with a smile when he unlocks my door.

“You finally admit it.” I grant him a smile, moving to open the door with my right hand when he takes my left one. He brings it to his lips, pressing the back of it into his heavenly plush and I’m sure the gesture made me blush like a schoolgirl.

“See you tomorrow, doll.”

And I did.

Grayson wasn’t shy about his frequent visits and I didn’t hide how happy those visits made me. I know I said he and I wouldn’t work because he’d never give me time of the day, but I was wrong. The more time I got to spend with him on the rides after work, the more I craved his company.

The first night after centered on a squabble for the radio.

“The driver picks music!” He slapped my hand away and I slapped his right back.

“I’d be the driver if I had my car, you know.” I narrowed my eyes at him and his devilish smirk widened at my remark.

“You can’t play the guilt card forever, you know?” He emphasized the last bit, mimicking my voice to the best of his ability to provoke a response and he definitely got one. I hogged the radio for the rest of our drives as result of him being unable to handle my silent treatment.

Our interactions in the club remained professional for the most part, nothing to make anyone suspicious, no one knowing the truth but his brother who always minded his own business as if to give us a sense of privacy.

Night after night, I went to work with a smile, finally content with my life.

Day after day, I looked forward to the darkness that takes the city hostage for hours on end because that darkness brought me him.

‘I won’t be in tonight, doll. I’ll come by to pick you up after.’

My heart sunk at the thought of our time being cut short tonight, making the shift drag on. That’s until I was requested by name in the VIP section.

Happy to know he made it anyway, I grab his usual and rush to the table I’m used to seeing him at. I used to dread it, but it’s become my favorite part of the club.

However, once I walk in there, Grayson isn’t the one in the seat.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir. What would you like to order?” I quickly plaster on my fake smile, letting the professional in me take over as I scan the slightly older man and the snake tattoos on his neck. Swallowing thickly as he allowed himself the time to look me up and down like I’m there for his pleasure instead to serve him drinks, I used the time to properly remember him for future needs.

He’s someone I need to beware of, I just felt it.

“Don’t worry, doll. You got my drink just right. You with a side of whiskey.” The man spoke, his voice rough like sandpaper, my nickname sounding unnatural coming from him. It’s the nickname Grayson had given me and after a lot of bickering about it, I’ve learned to love it – love the way he said it with a longing smile and an oddly gentle look in his eye. This man said it like it was a swear word, something that is meant to harm you.

“I’m afraid I’m not on the menu, but the drinks sure are.” I remark, placing the drinks in front of him and his two men, showing him no fear. But I am scared. You can easily tell who the bad guy is and this guy seems to be one of the worst.

“That’s too bad, doll. I thought it said Y/N on here.” He leans back, raising his left leg up so his left ankle rests on his right knee. He’s spread out in his seat, trying to take as much space as he can and he isn’t shy about making sure I know it when he reaches for his dick to scratch.

Disgusting.

“How do you know my name?” I quirk a brow, feeling my brain catching up with his words. He’s using my nickname, my name and he’s sitting in this particular booth.

“Tell my old friend Grayson, Damien sends his regards. Can you handle that, doll?” Even the mention of Grayson’s name makes my heart pick up pace, the back of my neck now drenched in cold sweat and my fingers numbing from fear.

“I’m not sure who you’re referring to, sir.” I lie through my teeth, hearing my inner voice warning me this man is not to be trusted. Whatever it is that he wants, I can’t let him know about my friendship with Grayson.

“Oh, I think you do, doll.” He winks at me, casually bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip before I take a step back and politely smile back as expected of me.

“If that’s all, I have to get back to the bar.” I duck out of there as fast as possible, minding my walk so it doesn’t seem like I’m running. I can’t let them know they inspired fear, because that would give away all I’ve tried to hide.

Locking myself in the bathroom, I quickly text Grayson.

‘Who the hell is Damien and why is he telling me to send you his regards?!’

No answer.

‘Grayson, he called me doll the entire time and he sat in your booth, in your seat and requested me by name.’ I type furiously, my fingers trembling as I do. I find myself picking at my nail polish nervously, feeling my mind is on fire with the waiting period. Any answer on his behalf would soothe me, but I can’t even breathe until I finally hear the sound.

My phone rings.

“Get out of there now!” Grayson shouts and I frown, looking around the bathroom panicked. I was wrong. His voice didn’t soothe me for I could hear the worry laced behind his shouting and it made the dread in my stomach that much worse.

“Why? What’s going on?” I question, my words coming out fast just as my legs turn to jelly.

“I’ll be there in five, already on my way, doll.” There it is…the glorious sound of my nickname coming from his lips – so effortlessly beautiful.

“O-okay.” I grimace as I stutter, hating the fear that crept up to me and took over every cell in my body.

“Just breathe, okay? Leave everything and don’t tell anyone you’re going out.” I listen to his instructions, but I can’t just leave.

“If I do that, I’ll lose this job. Grayson, I need this job!” I fumble with my apron, unable to untie the knot with just one hand. Pressing the phone against my cheek with the support of my left shoulder, I use my nails to untie the damn knot and the apron falls to the bathroom floor.

“Fuck the job! I’ll find you a different job! A better one! But you have to leave. Y/N, do you trust me?” Grayson’s panic overwhelms me, for I never heard this man sound quite so worried other than the night he asked for my keys. I know how well that turned out, so his worry translates to me freaking out.

Pausing before answering, my eyes closed shut as I try to silence my mind for a moment to think.

“Doll, trust me. Please.” And that’s when I know what to do without thinking.

Grayson Dolan is a man of many virtues, but begging wasn’t one of them. He’s the man who demands and makes things happen. Such men don’t strike you as someone who plead often. And this was Grayson Dolan pleading, asking me to do something irrational without an explanation and I trusted him.

In that moment, I trusted him with my life.

“Alright.” I press my lips together, opening the door and quickly moving around the dancing drunken people. Looking around, I made my way to the nearest exit, shutting the door behind me and walking into the alley.

“I’m almost there. Stay on the line.” Grayson’s voice shakes me up, reminding me he’s still there. I wouldn’t have heard him inside, but I heard him perfectly in this moment. Now it offers some of that comfort I craved, letting my knots be untied slowly.

He’s coming for me. I’m going to be okay.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” That rough, sinister voice made my heart stop beating and breath halt in my throat. Turning around, I blinked slow, afraid of the man who licked his lips and flicked his cigar to the side like he just found his entertainment for tonight.

“I’m just taking a break. Talking to my sister and her husband.” I point to the phone, making up an excuse and hoping to hear Grayson on the other end. But the line is silent.

Fuck. I just need to hear his voice to calm down, but without it, I feel myself slipping into the clutches of pure fear.

“Ah, family. How cute. My family is tight too.” He comes closer to me, pushing back his wavy tapper and I notice a vertical scar running along his entire right side of the face.

“Very tight.” He repeats, making sure I understood him well. The closer he gets, the more steps I take back to keep the distance between us. But I know should he wish it, I’d be caught in his grip shortly. I’m no match for him.

“Now, why don’t we get acquainted better and you can tell Grayson how good I made you feel?” He sneers, grabbing both my hands and pushing me into the wall next to me, slamming my head into it in the process.

My thought process is jumbled, my eyes barely opening from the impact and I feel warm liquid dripping down my neck as he presses closer to me, fumbling with his jeans. All my fight or flight instincts kick in as I drive my left knee up and into his nether region immediately.

He groans, doubling down before growling like a wounded beast. I stumble forward, still hazy from the blow and stop dead in my tracks when bright lights blind me and arms grab onto me. I fall into a hard chest, feeling warmth engulf me and a familiar scent of cologne intoxicates my senses.

It’s Grayson. I need no vision to see when my heart feels him.

“Take her.” He pushes me into someone else, the warmth and smell changing, but I don’t feel any less safe. I know he’d never let someone untrustworthy hold me.

I still turn around, looking at his dark figure over my right shoulder.

“Gray.” I manage to croak out, weak and faint.

He glances at me with his eyes wide in worry and a soft expression on his face.

Until Damien coughs, laughing.

In split second, I saw Grayson’s eyes turn dark and cloudy with hatred and rage, his face contorting, hardening as every muscle clenched and it didn’t look like Grayson I know anymore.

This is a machine.

“Take her!” He barks a command at the man holding me, walking toward Damien with hands turned to fists – each of his fists reflecting light off the brass knuckles on them. My eyes widen and I trash against the man who tightens his hold on me.

I watch Grayson begin throwing punches as I’m dragged into the back seat of a Jeep, realizing it’s Ethan who has me.

“Don’t look. Okay? Just look at me?” Ethan takes my face in his hands, keeping it steady as I hear the grunts, swearing in the distance. I could barely focus on anything, the ringing in my ears growing louder and my vision blurring. For a moment I was sure I saw them both, but it was just Ethan’s face doubling before my eyes. Not a bad sight to witness.

“I’m not…f-feeling w-w-well.” I stammer, my eyes rolling back into my skull as the last things I hear before passing out are a loud “FUCK” and a gunshot cracking in the air as loud as thunder.

**

Waking up to a splitting headache and hushed bickering left me with a dire need to calm my wild heart. Squinting because the light is too bright for me to process properly, I shield my eyes from the brightness with a hand raised toward the ceiling. Using my other hand to help my heavy body into a sitting position, I push my legs over the edge touching the hardwood floor with the tips of my toes.

Grabbing my head with both hands in an attempt to keep it on my shoulder, I grimace from the aches I started to feel in my entire body. The nausea didn’t help either.

Forcing myself to look around, I found myself in a bright, airy room with dominant white and red colors thanks to the squeaky clean look the room held. The walls are white as pearls, sheets a deep maroon to match the antique looking furniture around me. Every cabinet, drawer, even the closet door are a reddish color with flowery and bird themes. To my surprise, there’s even a keyboard in one corner, a guitar right beside the bed and several potted plants around.

All in all, I have no idea where I am and it brings the disorienting feeling to maximum level. Dizzy, barely holding myself up, I decide to follow the hushed voices. Mostly leaning on the wall, I find the door, entering a long hall with yellow and red colors, words written on the walls and paintings on them I barely looked at as my movements took most my concentration.

Finally at the end of the hall, I peak through the ajar door and find Grayson with his brother.

“You need to fucking cut this shit out, bro!” Ethan leaned toward Grayson who kept his back turned to the door.

“You can’t be out there starting a war for a girl you’re not even with! Have some fucking sense!” Ethan shouted and I bite my lower lip to stop it from quivering once I remember the gunshot I heard just before passing out.

“I’m not an idiot, alright? He’s pushing my boundaries to see how far he can go and if I let him start picking off my people, even the ones that aren’t officially in our crew, that’s when he’ll find us vulnerable.” Grayson reasoned, turning back around and no amount of lip biting could stop me from gasping at the sight, attracting unwanted attention with it.

Grayson’s white shirt was redder than the furniture in his room, more than my nail polish. His sleeves pulled to his elbows reveal his tattooed arms tainted with blood so much so his blue ink was barely visible under the matted substance. His face is coated in blood droplets, his neck bearing the marks as well.

“Y/N?” Grayson says my name with wide eyes as if he didn’t expect to see me right now, but all I can think is ‘run’.

No matter what he meant to me so far, this was too much for anyone to handle. He had hurt someone and I couldn’t make myself stay and look at him any longer. I don’t care that the person he hurt was scum, or that it was for me, only that his hands aren’t clean and he’s unpredictable.

Stumbling back in hopes of running, my legs give out and I fall flat on my ass with a pained ‘oof’, panic taking over me once he opens the door and I realize I can’t run.

Propped up only by my hands, legs tucked closer to me, eyes flickering from one twin to the other, I start dragging myself back and away from him.

Grayson takes a step closer and I feel a scream forming in my throat and just before I let it out, Ethan grabs his brother by the arm and pulls him back.

“Bro, look at her. She’s terrified of us.”

Grayson turned his eyes to me, a gentle look in his eyes just as it was when I called him Gray. But a speck of blood by his right eye is enough to keep me rooted and not give into his charmingly good looks. The fear sits on me like a pillow over my mouth and nose. Enough air gets by it, allowing my body to keep functioning, but it's crippling all the same. I never thought I’d be scared of Grayson Dolan ever again, the feeling so foreign after all the sweet moments we’ve shared.

Was it all an illusion?

“Y/N.” He starts slowly, lifting his hands up toward me in surrender, slowly bending down until he sits on the floor on his knees.

“It’s still me, okay?” His voice is softened, laced with care and worry, but I shake my head in denial.

“It’s not you. You’re not the Grayson Dolan I know.” I reply, barely keeping my voice from spiraling into the wailing cracks I’ve felt tearing at my throat.

“Doll…” He tries, the corners of his lips twitching as he swallows thickly, struggling to find the right words to say. But to call me that name again…that’s not the right thing, not by a long shot.

“Don’t call me that!” I shout, my own loudness echoing inside my head. Forced to shut my eyes until the sudden wave of pain wavers, I struggle to breathe with images of all the times Grayson showed me kindness overwhelm me.

Why is my own brain working against me?

“I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry.” He says quietly, his voice just above a whisper but calm and steady.

The adrenaline floods my system like it's on an intravenous drip - right into my blood at full pelt. I think my heart will explode and my eyes are wide, letting in every ounce of the fading light. My body wants to either run fast for the hills or work to find weaponry, but instead I stay right where I am. Sometimes freezing is the best of the choices, and let's face it, there really are only three.

“Who the hell are you, Grayson? Really?” I question, pushing myself forward to relieve my arms from the pressure of holding me up entirely. I wasn’t leaving anytime soon due to my inability to stand and the dizziness settling in, but I also needed answers.

“I’ll tell you everything you need to know, just…Not now. You need to rest now.” Grayson offered me his hand to take and I narrowed my eyes at him – not only in suspicion and judgement, but to focus long enough to see him well enough instead of three blurry versions of him.

“I can’t rest with...”I pause, swallowing my spit to keep myself from throwing up.

“With a man drenched in blood who I obviously know nothing about.” I finish the words, seeing his curt nod at the last moment before he stands up.

“When you stop seeing double, I’ll answer all your questions. Until then, my brother will take you to sleep as the doctor requested after giving you those sedatives. Goodnight.” Grayson’s jaw clenched before he turned around and walked out, leaving me alone with Ethan who huffed before he crouched beside me.

I instantly relax, refusing to feel guilty about the hurt in Grayson’s eyes.

“Can’t get up, huh?” He guessed about right, a half smile on his face when he notices me nod in defeat.

“Let’s go, princess.” The next thing I know I’m wrapped in his arms, my head on his shoulder as the small steps he takes lull me to sleep before he even puts me down.

**

Waking up once more in the white room I now recognize faintly, I rub my eyes but remain lying down. Breathing softly, I stare at the ceiling for minutes…maybe hours before I’m ready to get up and face whatever the mystery of Grayson Dolan is.

Looking to the nightstand, I find a glass of water with tiny bubbles of air pushing themselves at the edges of the glass signifying it’s been there for a while now. Besides the glass, there’s a pill with a note next to it and I sit up with a low groan as my head still hurts bad.

Aspirin. Drink it, put on the clothes laid out in the bathroom and come downstairs. If you want to shower, there’s warm water and clean towels as well.

Eyeing the note, I see no one’s signed it. Assuming it’s Ethan’s handwriting, I get up and make my way to the bathroom which is immaculate just as the room. It smells…clean.

I quickly take a shower, noticing some blood wash out of my hair in the process and I remember my head smashing into a concrete wall that night as well. It’s probably why my head’s so badly hurt and my senses barely work.

Towel drying my hair and body, I pick up the clothes with caution and examine them. A black shirt that acts as a dress on me, falling all the way down to my knees. A fresh pair of underwear that suspiciously looks like something I already own and knee high male socks. That’s what’s left for me and I have no choice but put them on for my own clothes are far too dirty to be worn again before washing.

The minute I walk out the room, I’m back in the hallway with a little more focus than the night before. The walls are painted into a sunrise and the words written go with the painting – House of the rising sun.

I could smell breakfast in the air, eggs and toast most likely from what I could tell. My stomach turned, crying for something of substance to be given for digestion as the mating song of whales sounded. Rubbing it gently, I walked downstairs, finding the kitchen on my far right.

Walking into the room made life stop as everyone turned to look at me, frozen in the moment and I’ve never felt so self-conscious before. It’s as if I’m standing naked on stage with every eye in the house focused on my every flaw. No make-up, no clothes that fit my body and no dimmed lights to hide anything. I’m just me and I’m painfully aware of that as my eyes find Grayson’s before averting my gaze to the floor.

Grayson, Ethan and two women sat at the table, all staring at me.

“Well come on in, we won’t bite.” The older woman beckoned me to come closer and take a seat, standing up to help me which I’m very grateful for considering I’m still unsure on my feet.

“Thank you.” I keep my eyes on the table, pursing my lips slightly as a plate is set before me.

“How are you feeling?” The other girl asks and I look up politely, faking a smile for social purposes.

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck and then trapped in a nightmare.” My response makes the girl chuckle. She claps her hands together, leaning forward.

“I like you.” She lets me know and I furrow my brows, daring to look at Grayson who’s still unmoving and his eyes remain trained on me. He’s watching me carefully for any reaction, making me more nervous than before.

Unable to stop myself from hyper salivating at the food in front of me, I practically chowed down on the contents until there was barely a crumb left.

“Well, we should go back. The jet awaits.” The older woman stood, wiping her mouth with a napkin before planting a kiss on both brother’s foreheads and the younger one simply flipped them off and sent me a small wave.

I looked at the girls in slight panic, feeling much safer with them there.

“Don’t let my sons fool you, okay? They’re still very much little boys with golden hearts and pure souls.” The older woman pecks my cheek and I find myself gobsmacked with the realization that this was Grayson’s mother and I barely spoke to the woman. The other girl looked a lot like them, guessing it was their sister.

“I’ll walk you out, ma’” Ethan gently put his arm around his mother, guiding her out the room, the other girl already gone – leaving me alone with Grayson.

He clears his throat awkwardly, picking up the dishes and I help him silently.

“You should, uh, rest. I’ll do it.” Grayson takes the dishes from me, his fingers brushing mine and it’s like a bolt of electricity rushing from my fingers up my arms. Retracting them fast, I wrap my arms around myself, leaning on the counter while he cleans up.

“Your mother seems nice.” I state, unable to handle the silence. There’s too many unsaid things between us and I know he doesn’t technically owe me any answers, but I deserve to know what went down that night. I’m probably jobless, carless and soon to be homeless – all since I met him and we’re not even together.

“Much nicer than my sister.” He muses and I smile, happy I got that right.

“So, you…probably want to talk now?” I don’t miss the nervous tapping of his fingers against the counter nor the way he avoids looking at me now. Grayson isn’t the type to get nervous, but he sure as hell looked to be drowning in his nerves in this particular moment.

“Would be good to know why my life went up in flames.” I shrug, pressing my lips together and a breathless chuckle accompanied by a quick nod is my response.

“I want to be completely honest with you.” Grayson walks by me and I follow after without a word. He walks out the kitchen and toward the stairs, continuing.

“We’re about to go full dark, no stars and if you can’t handle some things, now would be a good time to tell me.” Grayson warns and I feel my heart fall, uncertain with the darkness he offers to show me. I’ve always been afraid of the dark, even more so of falling…in any way and I’ve found myself at a doorstep with both my fears on the other side – his dark side and my feelings for him that continue to grow even with everything I’ve learned about him so far.

We walk upstairs, back to the room I woke up in – the sheets already changed and the fresh smell circulating the room.

“Hope you found the bed comfortable. It’s been serving me well for years.” He glances over his shoulder, gauging my reaction and I find myself uneasy, but also excited over the fact. It’s his room. This entire room is a testament to his colorful personality – clean cut, but various shades of the good and the bad swirling inside him.

“Uh, yeah. Really comfy.” I proceed to plop on the fluff, watching him sit on a chair by his keyboard, turning fully to face me.

“Are you prepared to hear the ugly truth or should I sugarcoat everything?” He questions and I roll my eyes at him.

“Don’t lie to my anymore. I want to know everything.”

He nods approvingly, almost impressed by my assertiveness.

“Well, I’ll speak frankly. I’ve always believed that the ability to speak to someone without overthinking your words, to be at ease with someone so much that you trust them with your deepest darkest truths…that is the definition of true l – friendship.” He stops himself just in time, redefining whatever was at the top of his tongue and I nod, agreeing with him.

3rd Person POV

“My business runs much deeper than the world knows. It includes a lot of legitimate establishments, many outstanding businesses, but also some that aren’t as legal to say.” Oh how bewildered she looked, so doubtful and quizzical. So reluctant to facing the real facts although she knew one day she would face no choice, for she was trying so hard to stop the vicious, secular things her mind was already turning his truths into...She was only beginning to know him and already she was overwhelmed by all she knew. But she had to know all he is for all he is all she cares for, but to know him is to love him and so she felt herself shake with fear of falling for a man as magnificent, as dangerous as Grayson Dolan.

“I own illegal casinos, speak easy in every damn city you can name, gentlemen’s clubs – some legitimate and some for specific clientele, gun trading and internet companies, art thievery and many more…In my world I am known as the leader of The House of the rising sun and it’s a gang on a global scale.” His words rip through her like glass shards do to skin, but he can barely tell if she’s shaking because he’s started to tremble himself. It’s strange to feel so nervous around a girl he barely knew, but he did know her. He knew almost everything about her and there was no way of denying it.

He knew her mood just by her smile, noticing the stiffness of her cheeks when she fake smiled at demanding customers and the real one she beamed at him more often than not. He knew her favorite color is baby blue and favorite car brand is a Porsche. He knew of her family and her desire to leave the small town she was born in. He learned of her financial struggles and her desire to attend Columbia. He knew she chewed on her bottom lip when she’s nervous, just as she picks at her nails because her nail polish was always damaged at the sides. He knew she washed her hair every night because he could smell the lavender scent every time she leaned down to put his drinks on the table. He knew her lilac perfume was store brand and nothing fancy like the girls he’s used to usually have on, but he learned to enjoy the smell for it reminded him of her. There are a thousand things he knows about her that aren’t in any research his men did for him, simply by observing her every night for as long as he could without compromising himself. So yes, he cared for her and her opinion of him.

“And that man…Damien was the son of my biggest rival. The man was a snake and he broke major rules that night.” Grayson’s hand formed a fist, the memory of what he almost did to Y/N washing over him only ignite the fire that barely extinguished itself once he saw the fear in her beautiful eyes the night before.

“Was?” She asks cautiously. She trembles and shivers, then looks at him with pleading eyes. Hoping, just hoping not to hear the words that without doubt would reaffirm her initial fear of what truly happened that night.

“He’s no longer an issue.” Grayson replies, flexing his arms and the inked biceps grow under the pressure before deflating ever so slightly.

“How many people have you killed?” Y/N stands, her hand covering her mouth. So frantic of the deceitfulness of the forthcoming actuality.

“Too many to count…But I know why they’re dead. They threatened me and my family. My loved ones. No one can do that and live. Not while I’m around.” Grayson stood as well, noticing her hand fall and her bottom lip is trapped between her pearly whites, being tortured as she nibbles on it.

He wanted to do that badly, to bruise her lips as he bit it while her lips molded with his.

“You can’t just go around killing people! You let the law handle it!” She exclaimed, watching him shake his head vehemently.

“The only justice in this world is the one we make ourselves.” Deciding to table the discussion of morality for now, she shook her head and looked at him.

“So why did I become a target?” She put her hands on her hips, releasing the soft flesh of her bottom lip a shade darker, enticing Grayson to lick his lips.

“I’ve come to…care…for you.” He paused between each statement, searching for words that aren’t quite heavy and are easily taken back should need be.

“And now what?” Y/N tilts her head up, meeting his gaze in determination.

“You’ll be in danger for a while and I can’t in good consciousness let you go back to your old life. Staying here with me is the best way to go.” Grayson’s words make her scoff, but once he raises his eyebrows to her little huff and puff show she realizes he’s serious.

“I can’t drop everything just so you can babysit me!” Her voice goes higher than Grayson knew it could, pushing forth a dirty thought about him eliciting the same sound from her in bed.

“Grayson!” She snaps her fingers in front of his face, forcing him to look at her again.

“You either stay and let me deal with this issue or go home and get yourself killed. Your choice.” He turned to walk out the room, but her hand quickly clasped on his shoulder and he stopped, turning to her halfway.

“I’ll also go stir crazy if you force me to sit alone in this big old house with nothing to do.” She sighs, defeat written in every line of the pretty face he admired.

“You can help me organize my paperwork.” Grayson offered, reminding himself to mess the paperwork up for he always kept his records straight. But she didn’t have to know that.

The smile that spread on her lips assured him she’s on board, relaxing his heart for a while.

While she demanded a different room to stay in, despite his offer to share a bed, Grayson granted her a room right next to his. He wanted her close just in case something happened.

“How do you know we’re safe here?” She once asked him, making him chuckle.

“This is my city. Only a man with a death wish would dare step foot in this street, let alone my house.” And it calmed her for a while, but it didn’t make the possibility disappear from her worries.

Working with him whenever he’s home, Y/N learned a lot more about his alleged businesses. All of them proved to be lucrative, bringing in millions upon millions to his bank accounts. Several of them – most hidden in offshore locations for insurance. She also found him to be a generous donor to many children hospitals and cancer research centers, for homeless people and ASPCA. Even though she absolutely refused to admit it to herself, it made his room inside her heart grow.

She learned he likes his morning coffee black and anymore caffeine would drive his anxiety up to impossible levels which made her restrict his caffeine intake. She also learned he’s very quiet when work is involved, but also ruthless when necessary. She found him to be a little cold toward her, but the iceberg slowly melted over time – finding him staring at her whenever he thought she wouldn’t notice. But she did.

She did.

She found him to be lactose intolerant and both brothers refused to take any dairy products, which she loved teasing them about. Surprisingly, she learned he’s also got mild asthma and so many allergies she lost count of – starting with seasonal allergies down to animal allergies. Even with her love for all things furry, she didn’t mind a possibility of a life without them.

It dawned on her when she ended up running her fingers through his hair when she tried to wake him up in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep and just wanted to talk to him. Even more when he woke with a soft smile, tapping the spot beside him for her to take. He didn’t yell or complain of her being a nuisance, but allowed her to ramble about her most ridiculous fears about dark and falling in love or out of an airplane which she claimed to be the same thing.

“What are you afraid of?” She asked quietly, wanting to know what makes a man like him cower in fear and hide.

“Closed spaces.” He sighed, turning on his side to look at her profile – the cheeks, her nose, the way her eyes light up even in the dark.

“I’m not a man with many fears, Y/N.” He adds, seeing her nod with a smile.

“Guessed as much.” She puts a hand over her chest, subtly glancing at him.

“Why do you care so much about that Impala?” Grayson asks the tough questions and she turns to her side now as well, their faces so close their noses are inches apart.

“It’s uh…well. I spent four years of high school working odd jobs and collecting every nickel I earned to ensure I have something to use as a way to leave town. Four years and the only thing I could afford was that piece of junk that took me here. When I started my first year in NYU, I didn’t even have a job or a place to live. Impala was my home for months. I slept in the university parking lot, the night security noticing and taking pity by promising to watch over the car so I can get a decent night of sleep without worrying someone will break in and…It represents a big part of my life. All I’ve worked for, the shelter it provided…an adventure. All of it.” She admits, bearing her soul open for him to see and he had nothing short but admiration for the girl before him. She’s much stronger than he gave her credit for and he realized he can’t write her off as easily as he thought. She might be able to handle his lifestyle, him and all it brings.

Throwing his arm over her hip lazily, Grayson brought her closer to him, hearing her breath speed up at the proximity, but so did his.

He didn’t love her, he desired her most of all. He desired her gaze on him as desperately as the air he needs to breath. He desired her skin against his as the food he’d need to live. He desired her lips to speak his name in ecstasy more than the water as he thirsted for her more than anything else in this world.

And in his desire for her he had lost himself entirely. He had lost his cold exterior, becoming putty in her hands. He had lost his ruthlessness toward her, directing it to any and all who’d harm her. He had lost his resolve to stay away simply so he’d give into her with all he is.

So with that desire and the loss of him, he hated her for all of it. He hated her with burning passion. He hated her so much it consumed him.

Or so he told himself so. For in the end, he did nothing to push her away.

He couldn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

Logic demanded him to stop acting the way he is, but his entire logic went out the window the night he met her and that creep put his hands on her. He’s no longer a part of the living anymore either. She’s become his cornerstone and no matter how hard he tried to deny it, it didn’t change. It’s become factual.

“Gray.” She whispered in the haze his closeness brought him, making his lips spread widely.

“I’ve been waiting for two months to hear you call me that again.” Grayson’s not ashamed to admit to it, remembering his own pledge of honesty.

“I held off on it…it makes us too cozy for comfort. Blurs the lines a little.” Her hand presses forward into the bicep of the arm around her, her teeth capturing her bottom lip once more.

“Oh, doll, you have no idea what you do to me at all.” Grayson leans in, his nose brushing hers as all pretense falls. He no longer has the strength to stay away and she doesn’t want him to. It’s been seven months since they met and every moment since then has been filled with mutual desire and need to fulfill their fantasies.

Her hand moves to the side of his face, grazing the two day old stubble he grew simply because she dared him to. He’s never let his facial hair grow before, finding the look unkempt and dirty but the look he saw on her face as he grew the hair made it worth it. He knew it would come in handy eventually and he knew, even in the darkness of the room, that she bore the same look now.

Her heart races as she glances between his lips and his eyes, knowing what he’s thinking. She’s not exactly a virgin, but she’s barely experienced in sex and knowing he must have bedded girls who have not only experience but incredible looks had her doubting her own skill and retreating.

“Hey, hey. What did I do?” Grayson wondered, his voice unusually soft and understanding.

“I just…I’m not sure what’s happening right now.” She admits sheepishly, finding Grayson turn to his other side. Just when she thinks he’s angry and wants to leave her, he turns on the nightlight and comes back to her side with a genuine smile on his lips.

“I was moments away from indulging in my fantasy of feeling your lips against mine.” He responds so casually that Y/N coughs, nearly choking on her own spit.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” He’s really not holding back, she thinks, shaking her head shyly, her lip finding its spot back between her teeth.

“How many times have you had sex before?” Grayson asks, her eyes widening and her hands covering her face before she turned on her back.

“I thought you were going to just kiss me!” Exclaiming, she giggled, finding it hard to maintain eye contact.

“You and I both know that neither of us would stop at a kiss, no matter how hard we try.” Grayson cocks his eyebrow, noticing one of her hands drop lower and make way for her to look at him with her left eye.

“Once and it was so bad, I barely felt anything but the moment I was no longer a virgin, okay?! I’m not experienced like you and I have no clue what to do, so stop looking at me all sexy like that and let me breathe man!” She dropped both her hands from her face during her little freak out before sitting up in frustration and he sat up, chuckling at her behavior.

“What’s so funny?!” She pushed his right shoulder lightly, annoyed with him. There she is, opening up like never before and he laughs at her.

“The fact that you think I’d judge you for that or the fact that you think you and I having sex would ever compare to the girls I had before. They were all a one night stand.” He laid down, perching himself up on his right elbow so his damn abs were visible in all their perfection and Y/N could barely contain herself.

“And I’d be what exactly?” She pushes for answers he looked ready to provide her with, her heart jumping nervously in her chest.

“Something I’d like to repeat over and over again. I wouldn’t oppose to call it…” He paused, licking his lips. “Dating.” He finished, looking at her wide eyes.

“You’re asking me to be with you? Like, exclusive?” She raised an eyebrow, shifting in her spot so she’s turned to him. Even without her make-up, she’s now accustomed to Grayson seeing her without it and still complimenting her puffy face in the morning when she’s stumbling in the kitchen with Ethan, unable to speak so early before having some breakfast first. It’s something in common she shared with his brother and Grayson found it both frustrating and endearing. And beautiful. He found her truly beautiful with and without make up.

“I guess so. But…I have to be honest with you.” He ran his left hand through his hair, moving it out of his face.

“I’ll never put anything or anyone before my work. That business is my number one priority. The men that work for me and their safety will be my number one priority. You can’t get in the way of that. Ever. Because I will choose The house of the rising sun over you every time.” The painfully honest confession had her frowning, but her desire for him eclipsed her thinking.

She assumed that the choice would never come and she could let herself get lost in Grayson without consequence.

“Okay.” She whispered, letting out a dash of air she held while he stated his terms.

Y/N sighs and leans up, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. Grayson doesn’t move, letting her take the lead if that’s what she needs to feel comfortable. He’s actually still in shock she’s okay with what he had to offer her, which isn’t much.

It isn’t love, just fun and he hoped she understood that.

Grayson looks as she lays back down, her hair tied in a loose braid barely hanging on her left shoulder as gravity settles in. He brushes his nose against hers, using his fingers to tug at the hair clip that held her hair together. Slowly, he leans down, just centimeters above her face, unraveling her braid one strand at a time. It’s painfully slow, building up the moment and her chest rise and fall with a quicker pace as he takes his time in the sweet torture. His lips are ghosting over hers before he tilts his head and starts kissing down her jaw.

She hums, eyes closing with Grayson’s movements.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, doll.” He whispers as her hand reaches down his abdomen, lightly tracing the outlines of his abs. He moves his hand down, reaching for the hem of her shirt, urging her to tug it off.

Y/N sits up and tugs her shirt off, exposing her sports bra and Grayson sends her a smirk as she shyly groans.

“This is so unplanned, it’s not even funny.”

Grayson eyes her, but the smirk disappears as she pushes up and wraps her hands around the back of his neck, pulling his lips to hers. His hands go down to either side of her head as she lays back and pulls him down with her. The kiss deepens and she moans into Grayson’s mouth as he rolls his hips against hers, his hardened length pressing between her legs already. She’s felt more in this make out session than her entire first time experience and she couldn’t contain her excitement about going further with him.

Grayson detaches his lips from hers only to reattach them to the sensitive skin of her neck, learning quickly where she’s most sensitive to his gentle touch. Her eyes close as she tilts her head, giving him more access. He moves one of the straps of her bra aside, enough to start sucking a small mark close to her collarbone. A pleasure-filled sigh falls from her lips as her hand comes up to Grayson’s back, lightly pressing her nails into his skin. A low breath falls from Grayson’s mouth with the sensation, but he continues to leave the hickey, running his tongue over the spot once he’s done to soothe the skin. He wanted to mark her, for his satisfaction alone but judging by the sound she made, it was very much mutual pleasure.

She pushes up, pulling the bra off herself, wanting to move faster, growing impatient.

A smirk comes to Grayson’s face while he wraps his arms around her, bowing his head to press open mouth kisses around her collarbones and down her chest until he reaches her well rounded breasts that he found alluring for months in the dim light of the club she worked in and now he finally had full access, nothing holding him back. One of his hands comes from behind her and plays with one of her nipples, getting a moan for his effort, one of her hands going back to the bed to hold herself up while Grayson’s mouth starts working on the other nipple.

With her eyes closed as she begins to lose herself in the sensation his lips cause, her hips start to buck forward into Grayson’s on instinct.

She pulls Grayson’s head from her breast, bringing his lips to hers before pulling him down with her and pushing his shoulder for her to get on top. His hands instinctively go to her hips, digging his fingers into the soft tissue over the bone. He loves that she’s got some meat on her bones, giving him something to squeeze and hold onto while his mind goes haywire.

Y/N follows the same pattern Grayson did to her neck, satisfied once she’s left her mark on his skin. She kisses her way down his chest, slow enough that it’s becoming teasing. She’s not doing it on purpose, but Grayson’s shaking his head and biting his tongue in order to stop himself from groaning out loud.

Once she reached the hem of the briefs he sleeps in, she slips her thumbs into the waistband, pulling them off and moving to allow him to kick them all the way off while she strips herself of her own underwear before kissing up his thighs and to his hip, around his pelvis and back up his chest, this time intentionally avoiding his twitching length.

She wasn’t sure what to do exactly, only knowing what she read in erotic novels and she was fairly certain they don’t count as proper research for sexual acts.

“Gonna tease me like that all night, doll?” Grayson’s voice is raw with lust as her lips meet his, feeling her core hovering over his length with every nerve in his body.

“If you’re going to look at me like that, I just might.” A cocky smirk comes to her face as she pulls away to meet his stare.

“Fuck no.” Grayson growls, hands coming up to up her face, lips colliding with hers a little rougher than before and she can tell he’s aching for her.

“No more teasing, please.” He mutters against her lips, giving her confidence she’s been lacking. It’s the third time she’s ever heard Grayson Dolan pleading and all those times have been with her. If that doesn’t empower a woman, nothing does.

Without saying a word, Grayson reaches beside her and opens his nightstand drawer for a condom, feeling her smile against his lips. Her legs slightly giving out, she slides her folds against Grayson’s length, inadvertently teasing him while he opens the condom and puts it in place with a few beads of sweat collecting on his chest.

Once ready, Grayson turns them over, his head is against her collarbone, hers against the pillows. He lines his length up with her center, brushing his tip across her folds a few times before stopping entirely.

“You sure, doll?” Grayson wants nothing more than to bury himself deep inside her, but he needs to make sure she’s alright with the way things are going. Before this night they were barely anything concrete and now he’s sweaty and his heart is pounding at the sight of her ready for him and he can’t mess this up by not being absolutely certain she wanted him just as badly as he wants her.

“Gray, please.” With hooded eyes, she’s the one pleading, her hands holding onto his arms for dear life as he slowly pushes into her the very moment he gets reassurance. He feels her fingers dig into his shoulders just as his dig into her hips.

He doesn’t move, opting to rest his forehead against hers, feeling her breath fan his face. Grayson’s aware he’s bigger than most guys and this being only her second time, he mentally face palmed for not preparing her more. He’s just so eager he couldn’t contain himself, but he managed to enter without issue, slowly filling her up inch by inch until he bottomed out, remaining still to let her adjust to his size before grinding into her.

His thrusts are met by her own hips moving on instinct, grunts and moans filling the air and become louder as he increases his pace. He feels himself getting closer, her clenching around him letting him know she’s not too far behind. He can tell by the expression of pure bliss and lust on her face and the pitch of her moans growing just to the sound he wished to get her to make that she’s getting close, so he takes a hand from her hip and presses his thumb to her clit. She jerks forward, a higher moan escaping her throat. His thumb is relentless, keeping its pace until she’s clenching around him and yelling his name, his own grunts and moans coming to an end when his movement turns jerky and he all but collapses on top of her.

Her heart pounds as her sweaty chest meets his head, giving him a perfect way to hear just what he has done to her. He presses a couple of lazy kisses on her chest, resituating on her, planting his feet on the bed but he doesn’t move, not yet.

“Gray.” She whispers, bringing a smile to his lips. Knowing he just felt her first orgasm and that he’s responsible put him on cloud nine. He barely held it together, never ever being the type to fall into a girl and remain there as she scratched the back of his neck like he just did, allowing her to touch him after sex.

“You good, doll?” He asks, barely lifting his head off her chest.

Sex always seemed to be business for Grayson, getting the job done and hopping into the shower before returning to his bed with the girl leaving right after the deed.

Now?

He found himself torn between doing it again or falling asleep in her arms. Lucky for him, she decides for them.

Pushing him to the side, she’s turned the tables on him, reaching for a second condom out his drawer, wanting more.

“Very good.” She responds with a smile.

Y/N lifts herself up and grabs Grayson’s erection, smiling when she sees he’s already good to go. Sliding the condom easily onto him before lining her center up with his tip, she leans down to press a kiss on the left corner of his lips. At an agonizingly slow pace, she sinks down onto him, Grayson’s grip on her sides tightening while her nails go back to digging into the skin, but instead of his shoulders it’s his chest this time around.

Once Grayson’s cock fills her up fully, she takes a minute to adjust just as Grayson did the first time, trusting there’s a reason why he held off for so long. But Grayson is also adjusting to feeling her around him as his eyes take her in. Eyes going from hers, lingering on her breasts, and traveling down to where their lower halves connect, an involuntary groan coming from deep inside his throat at the sight before he looks back up to her. Once his eyes are back on hers, she sends him a lust-filled smirk before she starts moving. Riding him, slowly at first and speeding up as his grip starts to tighten on her hips and her own need grows dire.

Grayson’s name starts sputtering from her lips, hitched breathing in between as her head is thrown back, hair dangling down her back. She starts clenching around Grayson so fast and he takes his chance to move his thumb to her clit once more to help push her over the edge. She jerks at his touch, moaning loudly in ecstasy, louder than before.

“Gray.” She breaths out, gasping for air.

“C'mon, doll.” Grayson pants, the rubbing of his thumb never stopping.

In only seconds, she’s moaning his name, her orgasm hitting hard as she falls onto Grayson’s chest. Grayson’s feet push into the mattress as he pounds into her, chasing his high as he helps her ride out hers. She starts coming down, whispering soft praises into his neck, kissing and biting, sucking on the glistening skin in hopes of successfully leaving a second mark. The whispered praises and assault on his neck are enough to throw him over the edge.

Grayson’s movements come to a halt, his breathing heavy in her ear. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, trailing kisses from her neck to her cheek. An unusually intimate move on his behalf, but she giggles in response, turning her head to look at him before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

She moves aside, letting him dispose of the used condoms, worn out to move on her own. She can feel all her bones drifted apart to let him in fully, but a blissful smile remains on her face when he comes back, still sweaty and hungry for her. But he can tell she’s already tired, the night turning into so much more than she anticipated and he didn’t want to overwhelm her. Not this night.

Laying back beside her, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her right ear before resting his head in the crook of her neck.

“G’dnigt, doll.”

While she slept on his chest, he traced her skin with his fingertips. Grayson knew he’s in over his head and still did nothing to stop it.

**

She always expected sex with Grayson would be rough, something out of her comfort zone. Instead, she got intimacy, genuine lust filled kisses and gentle touches, and craving for one another until there’s no more left to give. She got what she dreamed her first time to be. And in a way it was…it was her first orgasm. And she was happy it was with him.

She could no longer deny that she had fallen for him, but she was damn certain she’d never tell him so.

However, upon opening her eyes, she’s saddened to find the spot beside her empty and she’s all lone in that big bed of his. She half expected him to bring her breakfast in bed or to find him nuzzled in her neck, reminding her that Grayson isn’t the type of guy she usually dates. He’s a gang leader and the tenderness of their night together was surprise on its own, the morning after would have been completely out of character for him.

Sitting up with her head against the headboard, she sighs, pulling her knees closer to her chest. The sheets are wrinkled, out of sorts in every way imaginable. Assuming she looks the same, Y/N smiled to herself and the giddy feeling in her chest grew as she recounted the night before.

“Morning, doll.” Grayson’s voice interrupts her daydreaming, her head turning to him on instinct.

“You’re here?” She states, but it sounds more as a question only confusing him. Why would she expect him to be anywhere else after the night they had?

She took a closer look at him, dressed in a suit – all class and little to no signs of him being anything but the business man she thought him to be. His hair is combed to the side and back, giving him a wind-messed-up-my-hair-but-I-still-look-good kind of a look. Sunrays light up his face, giving his eyes a hazel swirl in a brown orbit, one she deemed magical and not at all earthly. His scruff is now shaved, leaving his skin untouched and he immediately looks five years younger than he is. His lips, the very lips she could still feel against her skin, they spread into a shit eating grin, making her roll her eyes.

While he took a moment to appreciate her disheveled look, he could tell she was scanning him as well. He noted the messy bed hair, finding it looks like a dead raccoon and it still made his heart do a flip. Her eyes are dark, entranced by him, but her lips are parted and wet, letting him know she recently licked the rosy softness he wanted to taste again. Barely covered, a couple of bruises and marks were more than visible under the morning light, giving him a sense of satisfaction for it shows she’s his and his alone now. It reminds him how he watched the marks she left on his neck nearly ten minutes ago, buttoning his shirt all the way to the top to hide them from the world. He’s supposed to be the most eligible bachelor in New York and such marks would surely make people talk.

“You’re staring.” Grayson teases, resting his bawled up hands on the bed, leaning forward to capture her lips in a quick kiss to satisfy his need for her touch.

“And you’re leaving.” She points out, a flash of hurt behind her Y/E/C eyes.

“Gotta attend a meeting and then handle some stuff with E. I’ll be back tonight, doll. You should sleep. Still early for you to be up.” Grayson tilts his head right, placing a kiss on her right cheek before standing up and shooting her a wink.

“Stay safe.” Her words follow him outside, making his chest unnaturally warm with glee he’s unused to feeling. She made him feel things he long forgot were possible to experience as a man of his standing, and it felt good. Really good.

While Grayson attended to his business, Y/N wandered his house in thought. She had long switched to online classes when this whole thing began, but she genuinely missed going to lectures and joking with Carmen at the club. She felt a little alone in the big house because when Grayson and Ethan are gone, she’s left to her own devices. Only a maid or two would cross her path, avoiding chitchat like the plague.

It started feeling like she’s his pet – a dog that mopes around until the owner returns, wagging its tail happily. She hated that comparison, but that’s exactly how her heart would feel when she heard the door open and his face soon came to view.

She tried doing some paperwork, cooking, even completed her assignments for the next week, the very last ones before graduation comes. A part of her knew she’d never get to go, but she hoped Grayson might make an exception and let her see the world once more. Surely the men forgot about her by now.

Something in her heart told her that won’t be an option. There was something inside her that wouldn’t rest, forcing her to busy herself as much as she did. It’s as if something isn’t right in the world and she picked up on it without being aware of it.

But when the knob turned and she whipped around to see who’s at the door, she never expected her gut feeling to be right.

At least a dozen men rushed inside, all of them shouting and none of them with their hands clean. Her eyes widened, searching for the one her heart’s tail wagged for, finding him at the very end of the unknown crowd. His left arm thrown over Ethan’s shoulder, his right hand clutching to his side, his face pale and his mouth set in a firm line, barely standing at all – that’s the image she found waiting for her.

“GRAYSON!” She rushed toward him, her chair falling back from her abrupt movements.

Y/N pushed her way through the men, wrapping her arms around his torso, helping Ethan keep him on his feet.

Feeling a liquid before seeing it, Y/N already knew he’s injured.

“What the fuck happened?!” Her demanding voice stopped the men from speaking, none of them daring to speak but Ethan.

“He got stabbed.” Ethan fills her in, speaking through gritted teeth at the same time as Grayson turns his head toward Y/N, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“It’s fine. I’ll be okay, doll.” His voice is weak, but still so sure that it makes her shake her head vehemently, shaking with him in her arms.

“Stabbed! You got yourself stabbed!” The panic in her voice is palpable, her hand covering his wound on instinct.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Grayson chuckles, hissing when his men approach and push Y/N from his side in order to take him upstairs.

“The doc is on his way.” Another one announces, the men gathering around their boss and picking him up before making their way toward the bedroom.

“Ethan, how did this happen?” She turns to his brother who seems more pissed off than scared. She quickly rinses off the blood, not looking at it to stop herself from throwing up.

“The idiot killed someone important against my advice and now he’s paying the price.” Ethan ran a hand through his hair, still matted to his forehead from sweat.

“Who did he kill?” Y/N sits down, feeling her shaky legs could give out any moment now. This isn’t what she signed up for – not knowing if he’ll make it back to her at the end of the day or not. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. She’s still struggling to accept that part of him, unable to connect the dots between the person she’s seen behind the painted veil and the one he is whenever she’s not with him.

She can’t differentiate which Grayson is the real Grayson.

“Damien.” Ethan replies simply, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and taking a chug without grimacing at all. He must be used to the burn, she concludes.

“So, this is my fault.” She drops her gaze, feeling a river of tears coming in and no matter how badly she wanted to stop it, the dam broke and the waterfalls became unstoppable.

“It’s his. He could have roughed him up or something, but he sees red when you’re involved.” Ethan leaned against the counter, placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her and hopefully stop her from crying.

“He even made us let him walk in here on his own two feet, saying you’ll freak out if we carry him inside.” Ethan continues, making a small smile appear on her lips as she wiped the tears with the back of her hand.

“How am I supposed to do this?” She looked up, teary eyed and searched for answers in those brown eyes with hazel swirls that Ethan mirrored. She never thought she’d be a real life Betty Cooper who fell for Jughead Jones instead of a guy like Archie Andrews.

“Decide if it’s worth it. If you love him more than anything in this world – more than school, your friends, your own life…it’s worth it. If not, then walk away. It might be hard after last night –“ Ethan pauses, grimacing at the memory and Y/N blushes, realizing he must have heard them because neither of them tried to control their sounds.

“Will he be okay?” She licks her lips, the salty taste of tears not lost on her as she tries to clear her vision enough to properly see Grayson’s older brother.

“Yeah. Probably just stitches and a couple of weeks in bed. Hopefully you can keep him in there, because that stubborn ass will try and get back out there way too soon.” Ethan chuckles, both of them turning to the door once it opens and a man walks in. The man greets Ethan with a curt nod, moving past them and up the stairs.

“The doctor.” Ethan states, taking a hold of Y/N’s hand.

“And we’ll be watching something until it’s all done.” He pulls her with him, despite her resistance.

“But, I want to be there.” She whines, making him smile to himself. He knew she already made her decision, even if she didn’t.

“When the doc is done, we’ll see him. Until then, be prepared for days of heavy security around the house. When a leader of a gang is attacked, everyone’s on high alert.”

Hearing footsteps from all around, Y/N settled in Ethan’s side for the night. She watched the cartoon he put on without even knowing what’s happening on the screen, her mind with Grayson and the last words she said to him in the morning.

She urged him to stay safe, unaware just how badly he needed to hear that.

It’s like going through the motions, unable to focus on more than one task at a time and her brain opted on focusing on Grayson and what he went through for her sake. He killed for her, hurt people for her…Is that his idea of commitment? Is killing in someone’s name a way to say I love you in his world?

She shuddered with the thought, feeling a light tap on her left shoulder.

“C’mon. The doctor wants to talk to us.” Ethan’s face is softer than before, reassuring and understanding. He knows this is all too much for Y/N, but he appreciates how hard she’s working to pull it together. She’s in a state of shock of some sorts, but he knew seeing Grayson would make her feel better.

“He’s got a deep wound in his side, thankfully mostly muscle injury. Whoever did this was clearly derailed by him and missed all vital organs. He’s lost blood, but I put one bag up and he’s already looking better. Stitches come off in two weeks’ time, no strenuous activity until then. Make him rest up, take his antibiotics and painkillers on time and that’s all. Anything happens, take him to my clinic.”

Y/N nods faintly, her eyes darting over the doctor’s shoulder to take a peek at Grayson, unsuccessfully. She already knew the basics, she’s a damn pre-med for God’s sake. She just wanted to see her man.

“Can I see him now?” She interrupts, impatient and already moving aside to get into the room.

A couple of men are stationed inside, eyeing Y/N suspiciously until Ethan steps inside.

“Leave. He’s safe with us. You know your stations.” With that, the room empties, leaving the three alone in silence.

Y/N shuffles closer to Grayson, seeing he’s laid in the middle of the bed with his eyes closed shut and his mouth is no longer gaping with painful grunts leaving them. His hair sticks to his forehead, his middle wrapped in a bandage, a drip still going to get him some fluids. He looked frail, unlike anything she knew him be. It’s the last word in the dictionary she’d ever use to describe him.

Careful, she sits on the bed by his side, her shaky fingers dipping into his open hand.

“He’s probably hopped up on painkillers.” Ethan sighs, sitting on the bed as well.

“Probably be out till tomorrow.” He adds, helping Y/N breathe properly again. She didn’t like the silence, reminding her only the dead are silent. But she could see Grayson’s chest move, the light up and down that followed his every breath and every heartbeat. It’s all she can focus on.

“I don’t want to leave him.” Her small voice surprises Ethan, but he nods regardless. He didn’t expect anything else.

“I’ll be right across the hall, as usual.” He walked around the bed, pressing a kiss to her temple before walking out, leaving her alone with his brother. They needed to be together, he understood perfectly. Whether they knew it or not, there was no doubt in his mind he’d be calling her his sister one day.

Y/N laid on her side, her hand in his, their fingers intertwined. She fell asleep to the even rhythm of his breathing, her mind finally calm.

“Good morning, doll.” She hears him whisper, his voice hoarse and her eyes snap open at the sound.

“You’re awake!” She sits up, her heart pounding, her hands moving from his to inspect him properly, but not daring actually touch him.

“Sorry. Had a totally different plan on getting you into my bed last night, but this seemed like the only foolproof plan.” Grayson snickers, groaning right after as his hand shoots up to his wound.

“You’re an idiot.” She sighs, leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Now you’re stuck in this bed for a couple of weeks and you’ve shortened my lifespan for at least ten years.” She accuses, pressing a second kiss on him. She couldn’t resist, needing the feel of his lips against hers.

“At least we can have some fun.” He raised an eyebrow, a cheeky smile on his lips that falls when she shakes her head.

“No strenuous activities. Doctor’s orders.” She informs him, pursing her lips and it’s taking everything inside him not to flip them over and claim them as his.

“I’m going to fire that man.” He slaps a hand over his face, dragging it down in disbelief.

“And I’m going to get you some food. And Ethan to help you handle the morning pee situation.” She shrugs off the blankets, getting up as his hand wraps around her right wrist.

“I’d enjoy someone else taking care of my morning wood situation much more.” He kinks his eyebrow, a cocky smile on his lips. She rolls her eyes at him, tugging her wrist back into her own possession.

“That counts as strenuous activity.” She gives him a small wink in return and blows a kiss his way.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Maybe you’ll be more careful about getting stabbed next time.” She giggles, leaving the room as he shouts after her.

“IT’S NOT MY FAULT!”

Once she returned with his pills in hand, she felt as if she’s caring for a child.

“I don’t wanna.” He whined, closing his mouth shut right after. He barely had anything to eat and now she struggled with talking him into taking his medicine.

“How about we make a deal? Take these and I’ll reward you with a kiss?” She offered, making him smirk. He quickly lifted his head, pressing a small kiss to the left corner of her lips.

“I think I like my rewards in advance.”

Finally, he took his pills, only to plaster a second kiss to her bottom lip.

“And after.”

**

Y/N’s POV

Having him in bed truly helped me get to know him better. Grayson always seemed like a mystery to me, but now I had him right where I wanted him – trapped with me and after repeating the same questions at him for hours, he’d end up answering just to make me shut up.

A little tired, I laid my head on a pillow next to him, absentmindedly tracing the blue-green ink on his tattooed arms. I knew what each tattoo on the rest of his body meant, but these remained a puzzle.

“They’re waves.” He speaks, making me flinch at the sudden pierce of the silent veil that befell us.

“Waves?” I question, waiting for him to expand on his initial statement.

“Yeah. Everything in life comes and goes in waves. The good…the bad…it’s all perfectly balanced in one way or another. It always reminds me that it’s just a normal part of life, adding a new wave whenever something big happens. Blue for bad and green for good.” His answer leaves me deep in thought, but he puts a finger on my chin, lifting it gently to press a butterfly kiss on my nose.

His finger then travels down to his arm, pointing at a large green wave on his right forearm.

“This is the last one I got, about ten months ago.” I look up, lips parted and my heart stops for a moment.

Could it be?

“The same night I left a bar where a particularly beautiful and sassy woman reminded me I still have a heart.”

Not holding back, I quickly press my lips against his, moving my body atop his. Straddling him, the kiss breaks as he grunts and chuckles in pain and I realize I’ve accidentally pressed into his wound with my knee.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I put a hand over my mouth, shaking my head as I try to figure out what the hell I was thinking. Maneuvering to move off him, he groans once more when my foot grazes the wound unintentionally.

“Oh, you evil woman!” He chuckles, still holding onto his side.

“You’ve made me horny and hurt me at the same time!”

All in all, I liked spending this time with him. It sucks he had to be injured in order for us to have heart to heart conversations every other day, but most of the time we spent together was simply enjoying each other’s company and discovering new traits we were unaware of.

He’s not cold like I used to believe. He’s not a bad guy or someone who inspires fear. He’s not even intimidating. I’ve come to see a heart of gold he’s been hiding for a long time. I’ve learned he’s goofy and spews lame jokes that make me laugh regardless how bad the punchline is. His feet are extremely ticklish and he gets chills whenever my lips come anywhere near his ears. He’s very creative and smart and he plays the keyboard so beautifully, that I’m in awe of this man. Every part of him is an adventure and I couldn’t get enough of him.

So, how did this man ever become a leader of a gang who kills mercilessly?

I get the sense that he’s become torn between being a good man and missing out on all the opportunities life could offer a man as magnificent as him. And I understand that. I do. I just wish I knew a way to get him out of it all. I’d give up everything and move on a deserted island if that’s what it took.

Because I…

I love him.

“Your mother said you have a heart of gold and a pure soul.” I smile, tracing circles on his chest in boredom. I liked being lazy with him, but I was slowly getting crazy from being cooped up with him and I’m sure so did he. The only true contact besides kissing we had was when he snuck up to me and slapped my ass, which became his favorite thing to do.

“My mother always sees the best in me. She’s partial. You should ask my sister Cameron. Bet she’d have an opinion!” He exclaims, making me smile. His lips press against my forehead and I sigh in content.

“She and Cameron moved to Europe when my dad died and well, I can’t blame them. It’s much safer for them. I wish you could see that too.” The heaviness in his voice makes me look up, furrowing my eyebrows. He’s staring down at me, a frown etched onto his beautiful face only highlighting a faint scar between his eyebrows. A scar his sister gave him as a kid despite my initial theory of it being a gang related injury.

“What are you talking about?” I ask sharply, not liking what he’s hinting at.

“I mean you’d be smart to get out of here. Leave and never look back. I’m not good for you.” His voice is even and calm, like he’s not talking about destroying us and the prospects of our future. Does he even want a future with me?

“I can decide what’s good for me just fine on my own.” I push myself up, sitting with my head turned away from him. In my mind, I’m aware he’s right. When does a story like ours ever end with a happily ever after? But another part of me ached at the possibility of never seeing him again. I don’t think I can leave him. Ever.

He’s ingrained in my very being at this point. I am consumed by him.

“Don’t be mad at me, doll. I’m just telling you the truth. I promised you that much.” His fingertips brush my spine, gently following the curvature down.

“Every voice in my head screams don’t…ever since we met. But I can’t deny my heart and run when I know I’m meant to be right where I am.” I sigh, turning to him.

“I know you feel differently, but I can’t help it. I’m in love with you Grayson Bailey Dolan and I can’t walk away from you.” I notice him stiffen with my professions, but I’m returning the favor of being honest. I can’t keep lying to myself nor him.

“People don’t write sonnets about being compatible, or novels about shared life goals and stimulating conversation. The great loves are the crazy ones. The kinds that are epic always take a toll on people and maybe that’s not us, but I want to find out. I have to or else I’ll go mad wondering what could have been if I had been just a little braver.” His eyes bore into mine, taking in all that I’ve said and I can tell it’s something unexpected for him, something he’s not used to. But he’s not running from me, is he?

I’m ignoring the fact he’s hurt and he can’t, but still.

“Don’t ever think you’re not brave. You’re the bravest woman I know. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here with me.” Grayson takes my hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing the palm of my hand before burying his face in it.

“Now, let’s sleep.” He pulled me into him, his arms around me and his chin atop my head.

“Goodnight.”

And that’s when I knew he isn’t the type that says those eight words, but shows them. This was his way of saying I love you.

**

It took us three weeks to get Grayson back into shape, walking was the only thing he could do, but I was proud nonetheless.

I had to explain to him why the no sex rule is so important time and time again, but once the doctor cleared him, we were back in that bed just as much if not more than before. I didn’t complain because his skill set is off the charts and getting lost in him is exactly what I needed to forget about missing my own graduation. Despite initial shyness, we’ve come to experiment and I’ve found he’s kinky, but I’m kinkier. He’s also discovered the back of my knees are sensitive and he used that to his advantage as well.

Grayson is insatiable, mind numbing and most importantly – mine. Has been for months.

“You graduated?!” He woke me up abruptly, damn near giving me a heart attack in the process.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine!” I grumble, rubbing the sleep out my eyes and squinting at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He softened, plopping on the bed and spreading out so his head fell on my lap and he got a pretty good look of my under chin as I yawned.

“Didn’t think it mattered. You wouldn’t let me go and you were shot. Plus, I still need to get into Columbia med school for it to mean anything.” I run my fingers through his unusually messy hair lazily, seeing his frown deepen.

“How would you like to go out with me tonight?” He barely got the question out before I jumped out and nearly took his head off in the process.

“Yes! Where?!” I clap my hands in excitement, pressing my clasped hands to my nose and lips.

“A place very special to me. I’ll have my team come and glam you up.”

And he did. While he stayed for the first part where it was spa treatment more than anything and joined me for it with Ethan to my utmost surprise, he had left the second they did any real work.

With a very sophisticated red dress with open back and a princess style hairdo, make-up that accentuated my features and lots of expensive jewelry he apparently insisted I wear, I was prepared to go on our first official date and actually see a place that wasn’t this house. The only outside I saw was his property and although it’s big and very pretty, it gets boring after a time. And six months is a long time!

Grayson waited for me outside, his eyes widening once he saw me, freezing in his spot. I avert my eyes shyly, pressing my lips together. If I were to look up my eyes will lock in sinful magnetism with his. Speaking to me, telling me things, suggesting things....he had simple eyes, nothing extraordinary to the naked eye, just the fact that they were so expressive...so honest...wrongly speaking out what his heart was trying to hide...love.

Finally looking up, I see he’s still frozen in his spot.

“Oh my God, at least act like you haven’t spent half a year seeing me without make up and in your old clothes.” I shake my head at him, watching a wide smile take hold of his handsome face.

“You’re always gorgeous doll, but tonight you’re a goddess.” He takes my right hand in his left, using his right one to cup my face and connect our lips for a moment.

Once I open my eyes, I feel my heart jump at the sight.

Behind Grayson is my Impala, completely restored and functioning.

“You fixed my car.” I say quietly, breathless. I could barely form any words before I threw my arms around him and pressed a kiss under his ear. It’s the most precious gift he could have given me.

Grayson took us to an undisclosed location, leaving my Impala for the night because I had no clue where we were going.

Finally stopping at a hotel, I look at him puzzled and he just chuckles.

“You’ll see.”

Arms hooked together, we walk inside and I soon realize this is one of his hotels. The people around seem frightened of him, looking like the devil himself just walked in. But I also see respect behind that fear, meaning he treats them well.

“Is everything in place, Rinaldo?” He asks the concierge and with a confirmation, we move back and leave the hotel.

I gasp, seeing the beautiful garden with fairy lights and flowers of all kinds, roses at each side of the path leading to a table with candles and a killer view of the city. Grayson takes a red rose from the nearest bush, already clipped and I know he’s planned all of this to the last detail.

“A rose for a rose.” His cheesy line makes me smile, bringing the flower to my nose. Inhaling the scent, I close my eyes and let a faint ‘mhm’ escape my lips, walking with my eyes closed to take in all the smells because I trust Grayson not to let me fall.

We take a seat, Grayson being a gentlemen and pulling out my chair and helping me.

“This is incredible, Gray. Thank you so much.” I place a hand over my chest, a little overwhelmed with all the love I could feel from him this evening. He still hasn’t said it, but I know he feels it. I know he does.

“Anything for my girl.”

Melting at the sound of that, we spent the night eating and joking around, drowning in his compliments.

“So why is this a private area? Why not let your guests in?” I question, wiping my mouth as I set down my spoon.

“It’s something too heavy for tonight, doll. I want you to enjoy yourself.” He derails my question, but I shake my head and place my hand over his.

“Nothing you say to me would make this night any less magical.” He stops, looking at me for a minute in silence, deciding to let me in.

“It’s my place…the place I find shelter when everything goes to shit. It’s uh…a garden my dad started for my mother. He never finished it and I couldn’t leave it like that. He always said it’s a symbol of his love for our family. It’s also where he took his last breath and where we scattered the ashes. I was surprised to see he named me his successor over Ethan, but apparently Ethan told him he didn’t want to lead and Cameron absolutely refused to be a part of this life. It’s my place and now…I want you to know it’s yours too. I’ll let Rinaldo know he can let you in whenever you need to hide from the world and think – to find yourself.”

I stood up, gently tugging at his sleeve to do the same and he didn’t waste time in standing in front of me, letting me wrap my arms around his neck loosely.

“Take me home.” I say sweetly, the longing in my voice taking him by surprise, but he smiles back despite the pain this conversation brought him. He’s never talked about his dad before and this…this is the last brick of a very tall wall I’ve spent a year demolishing. He’s finally let me in entirely, no stone left unturned.

We barely got into the house before the kissing started, the tension growing on our drive back and we needed the release desperately so.

“We need to let Ethan know.” I whisper against his lips and kiss him again.

“Already texted him and my men. We’re alone in the house for the night.” He responds, picking me up and carrying me upstairs as my legs wrapped around his waist.

He looks at me, pulls me flush against his chest, lips on mine in seconds. My back arches and my hands come up to his face, eyes closing as I melt into his touch and it feels like home.

It’s a kiss, but it’s deeper than normal and it’s got both of our hearts thumping a mile a minute.

He pulls back, giving me a look and I have to remind myself to breathe. His eyes are gentle, still darker with lust but not hungry or needy. There’s no grin, just a sweet corner smile. His entire expression is soft and almost innocent, a stark contrast to the image he’s spent his entire life building.

“So beautiful.” He mumbles under his breath, but I catch the words with ease.

He sits back on the bed, letting me nestle in his lap. Gently dragging my knuckles down his right cheek, Grayson closes his eyes and sighs in relief. He’s a picture of perfection.

The moment ends and he opens his eyes, his lips kissing at my jaw. Surges of electricity jolt through my body as his lips trail to my neck and he nips at the skin before latching down. He sucks a bright purple mark to my skin, a symbol that in this moment, I am his and he is mine.

I trail my lips down to his neck, gaining a groan before I leave a mark of my own, a mark that just screams my name. Pushing Grayson’s shoulder, moving him flat on his back as I properly straddle him, our lips not disconnecting for a single second. My breathing is already ragged and strangled but I’m not focused on breathing. I am utterly lost in the moment of lust, something I’ve become very accustomed to.

Grayson’s hands slide under my dress, pulling it up and his hands are so warm, fitting to my sides like a perfect puzzle piece sliding into place. And his hands quickly move with a purpose, unzipping my dress, letting it fall over my shoulders before pulling it off and leaving me only in my underwear, nearly naked in his wake.

His hands trail up to my breasts, taking them in his hands and squeezing them over my bra until I finally disconnect our lips and sit up. Grayson gains that usual smirk he always gets and it sends another rush of heat through my body, head to toe. I match his smirk with a wink before reaching behind my back and unclasping my bra.

“Hey, not fair! I wanted to do that!” Grayson complained, making me chuckle.

“Better move faster next time.” I smile, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time, exposing his abs in all their glory. I help him shrug it off and before I can go back to my position, Grayson’s arm is wrapping around me and flipping me back over so he’s on top. I laugh and Grayson follows too, his head dipping into my neck before his eyes meet mine.

3rd Person POV

The laughing subsides and this feeling washes over him. Y/N? She’s incredible. She’s everything he cares about. The best moment of his life is the day she came into his bed that night and kissed him for the first time, trusting him to go the distance. But there’s something with the way her eyes meet his in the low light of their bedroom. There’s a new feeling here, one Grayson hasn’t felt before, one he wasn’t even sure actually existed. And it scares him so he breaks eye contact and connects his lips back to hers before sliding a hand between the two of them and sliding his hand into her underpants.

She moans as his fingers slide her underwear aside and start sliding through her folds, collecting her wetness. Her eyes shut while her hand reaches for the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her as humanly possible. She moves her lips from his, kissing his cheek before she gets to his ear.

“Condom.” She whispers, voice completely drenched in lust and Grayson moves in seconds, reaching to his nightstand for a condom while she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. He’s glad she reminded him of protection, because in that moment all he could focus was getting lost in her and his mind wouldn’t even think of anything other than the way her lips part whenever he hits the right spots.

Grayson follows her lead and slides the condom on once his clothes have been tossed to the floor. He lines himself up with her core and he watches himself slowly disappear into her heat. He groans into her chest once he bottoms out, her jaw hanging slightly ajar with the full feeling and he gets to see the picture perfect face he finds as his greatest reward.

She runs a hand through his hair and Grayson picks his head up, eyes meeting hers and he’s scared at the flutter his heart does. He’s terrified of the way he gets goosebumps and the way he wants to kiss her like he’s never done before. For the first time, he’s scared of her, but he doesn’t let it show. He just stares back at her with heavy breaths and she pushes loose strands of curls back because she’s scared too, but in a different way.

She’s terrified of losing him for he made her happier than she’s ever been. In the last year he’s made her feel everything and she didn’t want that to be taken from her. Ever.

His lips are moving against hers, deepening every kiss and she’s letting herself melt into him and it’s so worth it. Every tear and ache of their hearts, it’s worth it.

His eyes are dark brown, darker than normal with lust and happiness and it’s got a way of making her stomach and heart just want to explode from the love she feels for him. Her skin tingles and a smile comes to her face, Grayson matching the same expression before kissing her lips sweetly and thrusting into her.

Y/N’s mouth hangs open as a gasp comes from her mouth, fingers digging into Grayson’s shoulders. Grayson kisses her cheek before moving back to her forehead, keeping his thrusts deliberate and steady, not focusing on getting off but just being in the moment with her. His hands reach for hers, interlocking their fingers and his thrusts increase.

Sheer layers of sweat soon cover their bodies and their hearts are racing with Grayson’s ever-growing sloppy thrusts as he starts to approach his high and she can feel she’s not far from her own and this is so much better than any other time the two had sex in the past.

They’ve been having sex for months now and every time it’s fun, exciting, good, it’s always been good but there’s something different about this sex. The sex that’s just the two of them, giggling when they knock teeth or quick pecks the other expects to be long and deep. It feels like there’s actually something passionate, a deeper connection there because there is.

Grayson’s hips rut against hers as they both moan out each other’s names, toes curling and nails digging each other’s hands as their highs hit. Gasps consume the room as she comes down and then there’s some quiet laughter from the two of them instead, Grayson kissing the very tip of her nose and her scrunching it in response.

Grayson rolls off her, walking into the bathroom to dispose of the used condom and clean himself, coming back with a wet towel to clean her off as well.

It’s become a routine for them, the aftercare always just as good as the sex. It’s intoxicating and liberating at the same time, being so open with each other and real about who they are.

So, with her head on his chest as he twirls loose curls of her hair, Grayson decides to speak one last truth of his own.

“I have a confession to make.” He kissed her forehead as she looks up at him, still feeling her heart beating wildly as is his under the palm of her hand.

“The Impala was ready even when you were still working at the bar. I was just scared you’d take it and we’d have no reason to be in contact anymore. I kind of needed those drive backs with you.” He pecked her nose and she gawked at him.

“You evil man.” She teases, slapping his chest playfully, using his own words against him and smiles.

“If you gave me my car back, I would have found a reason to spend time with you anyway. Been in love with you for a long time now, Gray.” With her reassuring words, the couple drifted off to sleep, completely unaware of what the future holds.

**

Y/N’s POV

A loud bang wakes me up, making me sit up in distress with a hand over my chest.

I look to Grayson in fright, finding he’s no longer by my side. Tapping the floor in the dark and finding only my underwear and Grayson’s shirt, I quickly put them on and peak through the door that’s left ajar. That loud sound didn’t sound like things breaking, it reminded me of the gunshot I last heard when Grayson killed Damien.

The fear is a weight on my ribs and a dull ache in my eyes, an unwillingness for my mouth to lift past neutral.

My heart isn’t resting tonight as it jumps to a speed of a professional racer, feeling my entire body tremble with the unknown danger lurking in the house.

I tiptoe to the stairwell, slowly descending once I notice Clevus, one of the guards is at the bottom of the stairs, eyes unmoving and blood pooling around him.

Covering my mouth to stop a whimper from escaping me, I feel the tears running forth and I stumble back to return to the room only to slip and fall. The blow in my lower back isn’t as bad as the fear that cages me when a man appears beside Clevus, a sinister smile on his lips as he starts to move toward me like a lion and I’m forced to get back up and run like his prey.

I run into our bedroom and into Grayson’s closet, wondering where he is…If Grayson is here at all.

I remember him saying something about keeping a gun somewhere in his room back when I first started living here, but I can’t remember where. I never wanted to know because I didn’t think I’ll need it.

I hear the door slam open, knowing I have barely a moment before they get to me, rummaging through draws of his ties and watches but to no avail. I push apart his suits, wondering how many suits can a man own before he stops getting new ones, but he has so many it makes me want to scream in frustration.

I can't breathe, feeling as if someone is choking me. My heart is racing and all I want to do is curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save me. But no one will, no one is here. A choked cry for help forced itself up my throat, and I feel a drop run down my cheek. I hadn't volunteered for this, I'm not one of those brave people who relish in danger and crave leadership. But I did, didn’t I? I chose to stay…to love a man like Grayson Dolan.

“Hello.” I hear the low chuckle behind me, freezing in my spot as terror overtakes me. Adrenaline floods my system. It pumps and beats like it’s trying to escape. I think my heart will explode and my eyes are wide with fear. The soulless came for a soul, the very thing they could never regain. They came to take innocence and feel the evil joy as they sunk into the filth of indifference.

I’m just grateful Grayson isn’t here to meet the same fate I’m expecting.

He grabs my arms and pulls me to him, caging me in as I trash against him. I kick and scream, pull and pinch, fighting with every fiber of my being. My arms get loose, allowing me to grab at the door, than at the stairwell and I can feel time slowing down as my own ticks down to the last minute of my life.

Kicking and screaming, this is how I go down. I hope Grayson knows I wouldn’t leave him if I had a choice.

I can taste saliva thickening in my throat and beads of sweat trickling down my brow. The man stops, knocking me into the wall at the bottom and I fall into the pool of Clevus’ blood in despair.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t ya?” Another man steps into the hall and I feel my defiance outgrow my fear.

“You’re going to die for this! Grayson will kill you!” I shout, smirking as the man nods with his lips pursing. He takes a couple steps toward me, leaning down to almost face level.

“I have it on good authority that won’t be possible.” With a flick of his wrist his men move and I see them bring in an unconscious Grayson and throw him on the floor before my feet.

His left eyebrow is cut and bleeding profusely, his eyes closed and lips parted ever so slightly. He’s out cold, unaware of the world around him. But I’m not.

No. No. No. NO, NO!

“I should thank you. If you hadn’t softened this idiot, he’d never let his guard down and none of this would be possible.”

Oh God…this is all my fault. He let the guards have a night off and those who stayed were outside and easy targets.

“Take her out.” And before I have the time to let out a single tear, my vision blurs and everything goes dark.

Back to the present – 3rd Person POV

“Sorry darling. Nothing personal.” And then he pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened in the actual sense of the word, the gun being emptied out before it was handed to the star-crossed lovers. Yet, everything happened in that moment.

Y/N stood in her spot, shocked at what almost happened. She could have never pulled the trigger, not in her wildest dreams would she have harmed him. But he did. He pulled the trigger without so much as a blink of doubt.

“Oh, I guess I was wrong then! Only one of you love the other enough to die for them. Cold, Grayson. Even for you.” The stranger chuckled, taking the gun as his men grabbed a hold of Grayson and started to tie him back up.

He loaded the gun with a single bullet, turning it toward Y/N’s head once more, keeping eye contact with Grayson.

“I should ease her suffering. After all, she’s the reason my son is dead. She got away with little to no consequence, but that’s because I’m a good guy.” And that’s when Y/N realizes who this stranger is. He’s Damien’s father – the leader of Grayson’s rival gang. It’s the war Ethan warned Grayson about and she was so oblivious to it all.

“I just wanted to know where my son’s body is, but hey…I’ll take pleasure knowing you two got exactly what you deserved.”

Before the trigger is pulled, a mass of warm slaw plastered onto Y/N’s face and a guttural scream erupted from deep inside her chest once she noticed brain matter mixed with blood running down her skin.

She heard a blow after blow, looking around to see almost all of the enemies are dead or about to be and Grayson already on his feet, fighting actively.

Y/N wanted to be strong as Grayson once called her, to be epitome of powerful. But after the week of torture she endured – both mental and physical, she couldn’t keep up a picture of the woman she once was. She crumbled to the core, none of her walls remaining intact.

Legs giving out, she started her fall, but the darkness never came as a pair of arms held onto her and pushed her into the safety of an embrace. It wasn’t Grayson, she knew it by heart, but the scent was similar – Ethan’s.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” He whispered over and over in her ear, running his gloved hand down her hair and he held her close, keeping her standing just by his own force. She got close to Ethan in the past year as they both loved to tease Grayson and enjoyed playing video games or even watching TV as their shows have become a religion, a way of life and the best bonding experience. Yet she never expected his arms would be the ones she’d fall into.

The fight around them stopped, continuing somewhere deep in the bunker they were held in, allowing the men inside to take a minute and breathe.

“Took you long enough, bro.” Grayson’s hoarse voice sounds before he spits at his captive’s dead body and moves to take Y/N in his arms.

“You try finding out a damn bomb shelter in the middle of the New Jersey woods!” Ethan exclaims, releasing the pressure he kept on Y/N who buried her face in his leather jacket and held onto him for dear life. Her entire body trembles, her choked sobs racking her body.

“Give her to me.” Grayson opens his arms, preparing to take her when she turns around and shakes her head.

“Ethan take me away from here, please.” She asks meekly, only tightening her hold on the older brother while the younger watched.

“Bro, what do I do?” Ethan asked Grayson, lost on what happened down there that’s so bad Y/N could barely look at his brother.

“Doll.” Grayson tries.

“Don’t! Don’t call me that ever again! Or anything at all for that matter!” She shouted, the force used tearing at her throat and the words alone would have hurt them both, but this broke them.

“Take her wherever she wants to go.” Grayson’s monotone, cold voice returns, swallowing thickly as he watches her disappear from his view. He knew the right thing to do.

Ethan put Y/N into his car, driving back home with a gnawing thought.

“What did he do?”

Y/N lift her head up from her shoulder, looking to Ethan.

“I understood when he refused to admit he knows me when they beat me. I understood when he didn’t even flinch when I cried. But I can never understand why he pulled the trigger after I failed to do the same. He would have killed me without a second thought. All for his gang…his only priority. I know now I have no place in his life. I just want to recover and get the hell away.” She grumbled, her head in her hands as her consciousness faded.

Ethan swallows thickly, looking at her in shock. He knew Grayson loved her, so whatever happened down there must have been taken out of context. His brother wouldn’t have risked her life like that for no reason.

Would he?

**

Days passes and Grayson never saw Y/N leave her room. She barely ate what the maids brought her, taking her water mostly for the pills.

The doctor told him she has a few cracked ribs, lots of bruises and cuts which would heal in time, but nothing permanent or life threatening. He too was healing, his body more black and blue than anything else. He had so many stitches on his body, he’s lost count. But all he cared about is the girl he had lost.

She checked her e-mail, finding Columbia offered her a scholarship – an anonymous donor decided to help her out and she finally found what she needed to pull herself together and face Grayson one last time.

She knocked on his door, holding her breath and he nearly lost his mind when she came inside.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, containing his excitement as his eyes looked her over.

Her face covered in bruises, drained and stripped of the usual smile she bore. Her body no longer had that extra meat on her bones he loved and she seemed frail…lost.

“I’m leaving.” She cleared her throat to stop the raspiness, pursing her lips.

“This house, this life…You.” She could feel the lump in her throat growing, making it harder to swallow.

“I have given you so many passes in the past.” She sighs, looking up at the ceiling as she leans back on the door to close it all the way and bites her lower lip.

“Too many…But you…you were willing to kill me…and to do what exactly?” She brought her eyes back to him, anger inside her bubbling when she saw him staring back at her. He doesn’t even bow his head in shame, no apologies, nothing. He’s just staring back at her and she hates him for it.

What she doesn’t know is that he’s staring because he knows once she walks out the door, she’ll be gone for good and he needs to remember her as she is now, to have something to live for.

“Why? Tell me some lame excuse, lie to me, anything! Justify it and I’ll believe you and I’ll stay!” Her voice raised in frustration, Y/N ran both her hands through her hair, shaking her head vehemently.

“Do you even love me?” Her voice broke, tears collecting in her eyes as she hoped he’s say anything.

“I promised never to lie to you. You should go.” Grayson spoke, no emotion passing on his face and Y/N shakes her head. He’s trying to convince himself he’s doing the right thing. Letting her go is the best thing for her.

“I’m such an idiot for thinking you might actually care for me. Grayson…You’re the bad guy, not the prince! And bad guys always get what’s coming to them! It might not have been this one, but someone will get you and you will remember me in those last moments of your life – remember me because this heartbreak you caused is the reason why you’ll be going straight to hell.” She turned around, walking out of his room, out of his house and out of his life.

Ethan rushed in, eyes wide and tears running down his cheek.

“What just happened? Why is she leaving us?” Ethan’s voice broke as his brother looked at him, reaching for a red rose that was behind him – the one he gave her that night in the garden.

“You will never know the depth of what I just lost.” Grayson choked out, crumbling the withering red rose in his hand.

**

Three months passed and while it was hard, Y/N finally lived her life. She found solace in school, loving every minute she spent studying. She lived on campus as it was provided to her by her anonymous donor and she even got a job! It was frustrating beyond belief to find pretty much anyone she met offered her a job after she told them her name, meaning Grayson must have pulled every string he had in the city to make sure she had somewhere to work should she want to.

It seemed she couldn’t get him out her life no matter how far she went.

She worked in a small café where the owners never heard of Grayson Dolan and DT Empire meant absolutely nothing to them and The house of the rising sun was just a song, ending her shift at ten every night. It was easier than she thought, moving on and letting go of the past. Until she went to sleep. His face is all she could see in her dreams. Haunting her, calling for her.

Until she started being haunted in the day as well.

“A coffee, please.” A familiar voice brought chills down her spine and she whipped around so fast she got dizzy.

“Ethan?” She whisper shouted, leaning toward him so no one hears her.

“Missed you. I’m sorry if this is inappropriate.” He apologized, giving her his puppy dog eyes and she sighs, pouring him a cup.

“If he sent you…” She trails off. She didn’t even know how he found her. She’s been keeping a low profile this entire time.

“I don’t want to know.” Shaking her head, she looks at the customers in case someone needs her.

“No, just a little worried about you. You kind of disappeared on us and I didn’t even get a goodbye.” A slightly accusing tone made her heart clench, but she couldn’t let him get to her.

“He’s miserable without you. Barely eats or sleeps….He’s reckless and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he’s killed. He even cancelled all his appearances.” Ethan pushed, continuously making her feel like she’ll either burst into tears or cry her eyes out.

“Not my problem anymore.” She states with a huff.

“You and I both know it is. You love him. I can tell.” Ethan tilts his head to the side, raising one eyebrow.

“Just…never mind.” He drops some money on the counter, much more than needed as his brother used to do before storming out, leaving his coffee untouched.

Y/N rubbed her forehead, finding a feeling of walls caving in on her becoming too real. She needed to think, to find some way to let go of Grayson because Ethan is right. He’s still in her veins.

Excusing herself early, she decided to go to one place she knew she’d feel close to him without actually seeing him.

She drove up to the hotel, passing by Rinaldo and walking into the secret garden. She brushed the roses with her fingertips, slowly walking up to the overlook with her heart in her throat.

It felt like that night he brought her here, the distant echo was still alive and frozen in time. Maybe this is what she needs, closure.

Sitting down crisscrossed, she rests her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, watching the city lights burn brighter as the darkness consumed the day.

A part of her felt almost peaceful, while the other raged on. It was a never ending battle inside her – one part of her loving him and the other hating him. Maybe that’s life.

Trusts are broken, lies are told. For us to believe in what we seek, we must know what it means to be what we don't want to be. Being sad makes you realize how valuable being happy is. Being weak makes you know what it means to be strong. Being helpless makes you determined to be helpful. Mistakes happen, awful things might happen in one's life. But her trust in him never wavered until he pulled the trigger.

She didn’t have nightmares about the man who hurt her. She had nightmares about the men she let into her heart who broke her.

“I knew the gun is empty.” A voice pricks her small bubble, making her turn around and nearly fall in the process.

“What?!” She looks at him, finding him dressed entirely in black, only a deep red shirt peering out of his suit. He’s watching her with a distant, wistful look, his eyes surrounded by dark circles and his face unshaven. His hair is disheveled and she can tell he hasn’t been taking care of himself. He is a mess.

“The gun doesn’t weight the same when it’s loaded and when it’s not. I’ve held enough of them to know the difference. Plus, no one sane would hand me a loaded gun in that situation.” He clears it up, his bottom lip quivering.

“I knew it could save you…after he said they’d let you go. I thought you’d be safe. You’d leave the bunker and I’d die with my heart and mind at peace.”

“Why didn’t you say this to me back at the house? Huh? You said being honest with each other is the very definition of l…friendship.” She threw his words back at him, narrowing her eyes and bawling her hands into fists.

“Love. Say it.” He matches her furrowed eyebrows, swallowing his pride.

“Stop it! Stop playing with my emotions!” Her desperate shout had made him flinch, his nostrils flare with a heavy exhale.

“I did what I thought was best for you at the time. So you wouldn’t pay for my mistakes anymore. I hate that you got caught in all of it, but that’s over now and I…I’m selfish and Rinaldo told me you came here and I…I hoped you were here for me. I just…”

“You took my right to choose. That’s what you did.” Y/N held back tears, everything she tried to hold against him crumbling now when he stood before her as broken as she is.

Shaking her head, she walked by him, entered the hotel and prepared to sit in the Impala when a hand on her arm swung her around and flush against his chest.

Another loud sound echoed in her ears, distant screams following and Grayson’s arms around her tightened as he jerked forward.

“We got him!” She heard some men yell, but that’s the last thing on her mind as her eyes connect with Grayson’s.

“Goodnight.” He whispered, the sound barely making a dent as her mind is racing and her heartbeat is deafening.

He falls back down, her arms unable to stop his collapse.

Y/N shakes him once, seeing his eyes are closed and his are shut.

“Wake up!” She grabbed him by the collar, violently shaking him.

“Wake up, you selfish son of a bitch!” Her voice breaks the self-imposed sternness, her fingers clutching the fabric of his suit.

“You promised me a forevermore! You promised me a fairytale!” The raspiness of her voice and the cracks are enough testimony for the break inside her chest.

“You’re the bad guy, not the prince! And bad guys always get what’s coming to them!”

The memory of her venomous words clouded her sanity, her hands trembling and her lips quivering.

“I was wrong.” She bowed her head down, a choked sob escapes her.

“You’re the prince. My prince. I was just so angry…and hurt!” The tears she couldn’t hold back fall in waterfalls, her head lowering until it’s on his chest. Her skin eyes closed in hopes of waking from this terrible nightmare.

“I love you.” She whispered into his chest, breaking down when he didn’t say it back. She thought she should be used to it by now, but this time was different.

Grayson always chose to say goodbye instead of 'I love you’ for that would mean falling and she was always afraid of heights. So goodbye and a kiss on her forehead seemed like a good way to go in his mind, letting her know she is in his heart without scaring them both with the daunting words.

Somewhere deep inside, she knew it too. She knew he loved her and feared saying it out loud for it would make her a target in his world and he couldn’t imagine something happening to her because of him.

“All this time I’ve blamed you. For pulling me into the dark. But I was wrong. It was me who brought out your dark side.” She broke down, none of her hate for him remaining. Love…hate, it was always a fine line to walk on.

“Is he?” Ethan fell to his knees, watching in shock. His gun falls beside him, no more strength to hold it in his hands.

“Oh, God!” Y/N punched his chest in despair, screaming with her whole body so loudly in her hurt. The scream came again, desperate, terrified... human.

“Guys?” A faint voice stopped Y/N’s wails, making her look at Grayson who just opened his eyes in confusion.

“You son of a bitch!” She slaps him, standing up with the back of her hand at her mouth as both guys let out a strong of ‘Hey’s!’

“What did our ma’ ever do to you?!” Ethan chuckles, wiping his own fake tear away before smacking his brother and helping him open his suit, showing the vest.

“Did you just fake your dead to hear me say all those things?!” She shouted at him, kicking a rock in her anger and he pressed his lips together to stop himself from admitting the truth.

“You made me watch Far and Away, had to use it eventually! And you said you do love me, so shut up and hear me out for one moment. Y/N, please!” Grayson stood up, motioning for Ethan to give them some space.

She reluctantly stops, crossing her arms over her chest and looks to him. Fourth time he pleads. All four times with her. He didn’t even plead for his life.

“I know your world would be much easier without me, that’s why I told you to leave.” Grayson steps closer, wetting his lips.

���But it wouldn’t be my world without you in it. You pushed me away when I needed you the most!” She averts her gaze, hating the vulnerability in her voice as he takes her hand in his, inspecting the chipped nail polish with a crooked smile.

“Look at me.” He’s not asking, rather demanding and she can feel the subtle difference just as she can feel his warm hand wrap around hers.

“Doll, look at me.” He uses the damn nickname, the very one that started the whole storm he brought into her life.

“I hate how weak you make me feel.” She states, looking into his eyes at last and he smiles, shaking his head.

“Whenever you think you feel weak, just remember you’re Y/N Y/L/N and I, Grayson Dolan absolutely love you with all my heart. You make me weak and I’m not ashamed to admit it.” He leaned down, trying not to look long at her as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.

Saying I love you is the bravest thing he has ever done in his life, for it took every ounce of strength and courage to openly expose his feelings to the love of his life. He knew he didn’t deserve her as she’s always been too good for him, but he swore he’d spend the rest of his life building himself up to be the kind of man she’d be proud of.

Hearing him say the words finally took her last bit of doubt and she jumped into his arms without holding back. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently rubbing her arm. Despite the heaviness in her stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his. She sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture. His touch made the world warmer somehow, her future within seeming a little less bleak.

“Say it again.” She whispers into his chest, getting a rumble in return as he chuckled.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He repeated over and over until she couldn’t take it any longer and her lips crashed onto his.

Soul meets soul on lover’s lips.

In the end, she was right… People don’t write sonnets about being compatible, or novels about shared life goals and stimulating conversation. The great loves are the crazy ones. The kinds that are epic always take a toll on both parties.

“You’re not off the hook though.” Y/N broke the kiss, needing air as her lungs began to burn.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” Grayson smirked, brushing his nose against hers for an Eskimo kiss.

For now, all he wanted is to get her home and in his bed and just talk…Talk about what she’s been doing the past three months, every detail he has missed. He wondered if she realized he pulled strings and dropped her name in every corner of New York to get her a job when she left. He wonders if she’s figured out he’s the anonymous donor that got her into Columbia. If she hadn’t, he’d never speak of it. She deserved some good in her life and he was dedicated to make it happen for her.

“God gave me a good, beautiful woman and I have every intention on loving her well.”

With his rivals gone, he slowly pulled out of the illegal branches of his work and legitimized his business completely. He wanted a safer life for her and his family, one he hoped to start with her by his side. He changed without even realizing it and it’s all for her. It’s always been for her.

And although this is not where their story ends – wrapped in each other’s arms as they sit in her Impala, Y/N driving Grayson for the first time ever, this is where we leave them.

Every song has a CODA, a final movement. Whether it fades out or crashes away, every song ends. Is that any reason not to enjoy the music?

     * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tags: @fallinginlove-16 @godlydolans @accalialionheart @heyits-claire @xalayx

[hellishmess]

17: Irritating Love

August 25,2018

I ducked, dodging an arrow by the skin of my teeth.

Rey and Hardy were crouched down behind me. The stack of crates were the only thing keeping us from becoming pin dolls.

Twisting my hands, I sent out my magic, reining it in to 15 feet. Rey shivered as the death spell passed through her, leaving her unscathed.

To our right, a strangled cry sounded out in alarm. It ended with a bodily thump.

"Come on," I grit out, pissed at the lack of weapons I had.

We make it two feet before gun shots fire from behind me. I whirl to see Rey with a pistol in hand. The man she shot fell to his knees.

I kept going, weaving our way out of the maze of shipping crates.

"Aspen!" Hardy yelled out a warning, but I was already on it. A huge lift barreled for us, the forked side first.

I grabbed at my magic, wrapping it around the heavy machinery. The muscles in my arms tensed as I flung it away from us. It hit a stack of shipping containers, knocking the top one off. My ears rung from the screeching of metal attacking metal.

We kept running, darting from path to path. They surrounded us again. Rey led us to a bunker corner of two crates. We crouched down.

How many men were there?

Rey squeezed Hardy's hand in hers, gripping her pistol in her right hand. He buried his face in her neck, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'll die for you," he muttered.

She grabbed his face, making eye contact before sincere lip contact. "I'll die for you first."

"No one here is fucking dying!" I snap.

Both of them look at me, shocked by the sharpness of my voice. I inch towards the edge of the crate. A red burning line was drawn blocking our exit. It was bad news. I knew the spell. It'd burn us from the inside out if we ran through.

I briefly considered taking the time to break the spell but cast it out. It could take too long. The goons could be on us in seconds.

I look up. God if you're real...

Holy shit. The lightbulb shines over my head as my brain cells work to form a functional idea.

"Rey how many bullets do you have left?" I ask.

She checks. "5 counting the one in the barrel."

"Okay. That's not bad. Here's what we're going to do. I'm gonna cast a magical protection spell over us and Hardy you're gonna use your shields to help prevent us from being shot down."

Hardy nods but his eyebrow cocks at my use of words. "Shot down?"

A grin forms and I point up. "Yep. We're like mice in here. We don't know the territory like they do and I'm getting the faint impression that they're leading us to a trap. So we're going to run on the top of the crates. Where we can see the end and get the hell out of here."

They share a glance before standing up. "What if we can't make a jump?" Rey worries, watching Hardy climb to the top.

"I have us on that front," I say wiggling my fingers. "Don't worry. Just make sure you aim to kill and that your boyfriend can keep his shields up."

She nods, turning to climb after him. I can see the ripple through the air as Hardy manifests his shields.

I didn't wait for Rey to reach the top to climb. Instead, I climbed beside her.

My spell of protection was subtle, but I wrapped it around us in two layers.

Yells from below got us moving. Goons ran for us. Several had hellhounds on leashes. Huge, ugly dogs with hellfire in their eyes. Their jaws snapped as they saw their marks. With barks so loud it invoked fear in the dead, the air that came out of their lungs was even toxic.

I paused. My hands in claws as I twisted and snapped their necks one by one.

Hardy led us towards the edge of the maze. We were sprinting along the tops of the crates, hopping between the cracks.

"Aspen!" He warned again. I looked forward and saw that he was leading us towards another row. The jump was huge.

"I got us. Go!"

Hardy kept our pace even, not looking back as he took a leap of faith. Soon we were all rushing forward on our own momentum. With a small effort, I raised us up and carried us over the rest of the 4 feet.

Hardy paused, a grin broken on his lips. "That was cool!"

Rey clamped a hand on his shoulder, pushing him forward. "Congratulate later!"

She screamed. A big burly man had managed to climb up with us. A gun raised in his hands. There was no hesitation when he fired three shots.

Hardy gripped his palms. With his hands in tight fists, his shields stopped the bullets where they were.

People were starting to file down below us with guns, whips, and knifes in hand. One dude even had a bat and chain.

"Go go go!" I yelled.

Hardy barreled ahead, lowering his center of mass as he used his shields as a battering ram. The burly man didn't stand a chance. We tossed him over.

We crossed over to another row of crates, this time able to make the jump without my assistance.

I felt foreign magic try to take hold of us. It touched my barrier, but dispelled soon after touching it.

"Holy shit we're almost there." Hardy yelled.

He turned and hopped onto the last length of shipping crates.

"Shit," he swore, hesitating.

I saw why. There was a group of 5 standing down the line. Even more were on the ground below us. All of them blocked the exit.

Hardy winced, his eyes closing from concentration as bullets rained at us. Three of the five had guns and all of them were shooting at us.

Rey didn't hesitate. She fired three shots over Hardy's shoulder. All of them hit home in the dudes with guns. They fell to the ground, dying. One pressing the trigger and shooting at his comrades on the floor before stilling.

A twitch of my fingers had their guns flying across the lot. Only one came towards us.

Rey caught it. "Cool an uzi."

She laid it down on the ones at our feet. In my peripheral, I saw her hit a good many as they broke formation and scrambled away.

I ran towards the remaining two. One with a broad sword and the other had a chain with a heavy ball at the end.

The man with the chain went for me first. I jumped, dodging the blow to take out my legs. I got up and personal. Jabbing his eyes, before punching his throat. He choked, coughing as he swung blindly.

   I felt the air split as the sword came for me from behind. He hoped to cut through my spine with a swing that heavy.

     Dropping to the floor, I slide between the chain dude's legs, giving him a hard blow to his junk.

He yelped, high pitched and whiny.

I rolled back to my feet in a crouch. The sword had dug deep in the body of his partner. The man was a goner. Blood sprayed everywhere. His screams raised the hair on my arms.

The dude with the sword looked panicked. He grabbed the dude and shoved him off the crates. Anger flushed his face. "You."

I stood, shrugging my shoulders. "Me."

He ran for me sword first, a battle yell tore from his throat.

Dodging was always easy, but now that this man was letting his emotions carry his attacks it was especially easy.

I brandished a thin blade from my belt, making tiny cuts wherever I could when I moved away from the path of his sword.

He stopped, huffing as he realized his mistake. He was as bloody as his fallen friend. His skin clammy and pale.

I cut every major vein and artery on his arms, nicking his artery on his big throat too.

"Sorry." I apologized, before drop kicking him to the ground. He didn't get up.

I was alone up here.

Hardy and Rey were back to back, fighting the ones left that were stupid enough to still fight.

A whip wrapped around Rey causing her to tumble forwards. A pirate pulled her towards his with a dirty smile. I dropped down to help her, but Hardy got to her before me. His shields forgotten in desperation to help her.

He grabbed her, tugging back.

I grabbed a discarded gun and shot the pirate.

Rey unwrapped the whip.

We all made eye contact, all of us on the same page. We got up and ran like hell.

No one followed us as we hit the streets. The evening shadows cloaked us as we headed for the hidden car.

Hardy got there first, jumping into the drivers seat as Rey grabbed shotgun and I dove into the back.

Our doors weren't even shut before he had us spinning away from the docs.

Adrenaline and potholes made the ride rough, but thankfully we made it back to the highway.

It was silent as we all caught our breath.

"I think that asshole broke my wrist." Rey said, savoring her right hand.

"Shit." Hardy said, "Let me see."

"No dumbass you drive." I said, popping up from the back. I turned to Rey. "Let me see."

I turned on the light and saw the discoloration of her wrist. It was a swollen mess, but there was no bone sticking out and no visible protrusions.

"Jesus." I said. "It wouldn't surprise me if it was broken."

"Is it?" Hardy asked. "Can you even tell?"

"No really." I answered before asking Rey, "Can you move it?"

She tries but only gains tears. "No," she breaths out in shakes.

"Okay. Okay. Give me your hand," I said.

Hardy picked up speed as he drove us to base, taking a sharp exit that flung me and Rey to the side. "What are you doing?”

A whimper leaves her lips when she straightens up.

“I’m going to heal her injury,” I snap. “Christ what do you think I’m going to do?”

“Sorry,” he scoffed, focusing back on driving.

I pull energy from the world, focusing on the signals her body gives off along with the connections and disconnections in her wrist.

The magic soaks into her skin, restoring the cells that were broken. It only took a second.

“Holy shit,” Rey gasps. “It’s fixed.” She wiggles her wrist. “Thank you.”

I sigh, resting back. “Welcome.”

[clown-bait]

Monster Family CH8 (Monster Roommate AU)

ONLY 7 MORE DAYS GUYS!!!! IM SO EXCITED! Until then tho, pregnant tentacle sex anyone?

Ch8

Skinny Dipping

"Why do you hate the librarian?" The question caught Pennywise off guard and he nearly swallowed half the lake as he flailed out of his floating position. "Like I know parts of his story but I want your side too." It took the eldritch a moment to think carefully as Leech tried to justify her curiosity. He had never told anyone about what happened then. Finally, he stood out of the water porcelain flesh backlit by the pale moon and faux fireflies. Leech wouldn't forget the ferocity in his features as he relived the memory. The creature shook himself violently like a dog does to relieve tension. His hair while still loose dried instantly and his costume covered his lean pale skin. The massive clown sat down next to his mate. "You will not like what you see." He finally said. "I was not the same then, I mocked emotions, I was cruel. Like a child plucking the wings off a butterfly." His voice warbled through the air as the dancing yellow lights dimmed and faded away. A small hand took his glove and long black nails ran over the fabric. "You're still evil now…. but that’s what I signed up for isn't it?" His mate said softly.

His glove left her and instead pulled her into his lap. "I would have gobbled you up without a second thought darling." He purred his hand sliding over their brood. Leech let out an amused huff and settled into his warm silk. "I don't believe that you're a complete hopeless romantic." She joked, earning her a playful growl and a nip to her ear. "Close your eyes and see." Pennywise whispered into her skull kissing the cold skin softly. When she obeyed it was as if her imagination had been hijacked, suddenly the warm summer night was a stormy day and she stood in the storm drain on the corner of Witcham and Jackson street. "27 years ago, I was a very different clown." A voice echoed in her head. "It started with a boy. My biggest mistake." A little boy in a raincoat ran to the entrance of the drain and squatted down. Leech knew what came next.

She had seen Penny hunt before. It was brutal but then again she was no better sometimes. This one felt painful to witness. "Like a child plucking the wings off a butterfly." her lover's words echoed in her head. She felt his starvation, his want to destroy something innocent. She could feel Pennywise's every desire in the moment and the satisfaction of when he got it. The memories thumbed forward like the turning of pages a girl named Betty torn in half through teeth and claws that weren't her own. A young Mike Hanlon trembled in the doorway of the old butcher shop. The Jewish boy Stanley and his flute woman, the new kid Ben and the ghosts of Derry's past. Eddie, Beverly, Richie, and finally the brother Bill who Leech could feel the clown’s particular malice towards. He craved them all and patiently marinated his meat before slaughter. They were to be his grand finale. His memories of that summer overwhelmed her. The shock of being discovered, the first experience of pain, his fear of his immortality being questioned. Then that final fight deep in his lair. She felt his fear and all the emotions that he had so eagerly mocked overcoming him. She saw and felt everything he felt. Feeling his terror of mortality and death brought tears to her eyes. Then the powerful creature had been bested and had decided in present-day, his mate had seen enough. Time slowed for the vampire and she was herself once more staring at the blue-eyed creature in front of her.

"Oh my god…..were the same…." she said quietly. "Our biggest fears…" cold hands touched his face and her thumbs ran over his puffy cheeks. "We’re the same Pen." She smiled pulling the eldritch to her lips. He despised the Losers for what they did to him but he would thank them for one thing, the chance to experience emotions like this.

"Now play the part of you getting your ass beat by pre-teens again" his mate giggled and the clown pulled back and snarled.

"That is not funny."

"It's a little bit funny."

Pennywise frowned for a moment then grinned wickedly. his arms shot out at his mate and trapped her in a vice-like grip which began to pull her to the water as she squealed insults and curses at him.

"PEN NO! FUCK YOU THIS IS A NEW DRESS!" She shrieked and kicked but her clown was quick and she ended up back in the lake anyway.

She rose from the water pissed and soaked to the bone her new dress hung heavy over her body revealing curves and swells in her figure. A pleased rumble left the eldritch’s throat. "Mock me again and I’ll rip that pretty little garment clear off." He snarled and pulled her forward in the water tendrils slithered up her legs from the depths. "Or maybe that’s what you want me to do." He growled as a long tentacle slipped up her thigh. "You’ll owe me a new one." The vampire hissed and squirmed half-heartedly. "I'd get you a thousand if it meant I could see this pretty sight." He purred and cupped the curve of her ass in his massive hands. "My pretty mate so wet and feisty." His hand swatted her rear with a crack Leech's claws dug into the wet silk of the clown’s costume. His hands hiked her wet dress over the swell of her backside inky black tentacles replaced his hands squeezing the soft flesh and the clown explored her other curves in the waist-deep water.

"You’re growing so fast sweet thing" he murmured his voice almost shaking with excitement as his hands and tendrils touched her belly. "I’ve made you swell so much. Will miss seeing you like this….might have to do it again next cycle."

"Absolutely not!"

"Hmm then I will carry them."

"You’re kidding! You? Pregnant? Pen you’re already needy as it is!" Leech squirmed a bit but a large python like tendril curled around her chest. She snapped her razor fangs at him before he could reach her neck letting out a low chitter as he caught her jaw and quickly drug her deeper into the water.

"Little hunter is feisty today."

"You’re supposed to be making it up to me asshole." She squirmed and hissed.

"And still so jealous! As if I'd let anyone else know me as you do. They are unworthy."

"Then give me what you owe me." Leech snarled back and he held her cool soft cheek against his razor fangs.

"Say please." The clown hissed as his teeth retraced in anticipation barely able to put them away before his mate's lips were frantically pressing against his own.

They crashed together in a frenzy of claws and tendrils pennywise dragged her under the surface stealing her breath and rubbing a particularly thick and long tentacle between her legs as he kissed her. They broke the surface and leech gasped for air one tentacle holding the back of her head as her clown bit and sucked her neck. A chorus of "pleases" spilled from her lips as her new dress was gently pulled off her till they were skin to skin his tendrils pulling open her legs and seating her around his waist.

"I will no longer wait. You have teased me enough today made my knees shake with want. Little thing makes me feel in ways others cannot."

"You could just say you love me." Leech smirked and a tendril squeezed her neck as something hard pressed into her pussy.

"I love you." He growled through fangs as his hips pressed up sinking her further down onto him.

Leech let out a whimper as he stretched her "Fuuuck th-that's big- shit!"

Pennywise groaned and trailed off into a chuckle. "Too much?" He sneered as his hips bucked slowly. She gasped at the stretch and bit under her eldritch's jaw. "No….never….more I want more." Leech panted and traced her own claws down his neck and into the water sliding. They over his lower back and she began to press her nails into him as if to spur him to push deeper. It seemed to deliver the intended message and water splashed as he thrust in harder, beginning a rhythm.

"Who's needy now." He growled and pulled her legs open wider. More tendrils joined them one protectively around her swollen belly and one slithered up between her breasts as others pushed them together so the appendage could slide between them. Leech gave her mate a look and he made a laugh like gurgle as he leaned in to suck on her neck "So soft, so squishy." He growled as his tentacles kneaded the cool soft flesh. Leech could feel his fangs at her neck as he thrusted below the surface, each pant sending warm breath over her cold wet skin. His tongue felt extra hot as it ran over her flesh and when she shuddered his tendrils squeezed tighter in excitement.  Leech threw her head back and let him pound into her listening to the water slosh back and forth in waves around them. Her clown groaned as her claws pulled his damp hair increasing his pace turning the gentle waves into violent splashes. "Ngh...mmm tongue….out.. now!" he could barely speak his command and growled in pleasure when he felt the cool wet muscle slide up and down the tendril fucking his mate's gravid breasts. "Good girl.."he shuddered and gripped her backside harshly "good goooood girl." Leech smiled as she licked him watching her primordial god come utterly undone for her as she gently sucked the tip of his tentacle. A heartbeat later, the clown smirked to himself and watched as her expression changed when a small thin tendril licked a stripe in the vampire's back door. Leech gasped and nearly went stiff in his arms still being bounced on his cock by tentacles. "Pen...mm.. what are you doing?" She gasped.

"Making it up to you." He panted out and swirled the tip around her tight hole like a tongue. "Gonna make you float Peachy. Give you want you want. Float with me, love. Float."

His small tentacle eased in and both moaned in pleasure Leech going almost limp in his grasp as little ball like bumps formed in the tendril. Her senses were completely shot, all she could hear were her mate's obscene growling and her own high pitched moans. The tendril around her stomach slithered and caressed their brood as if to hold them safe from what he was doing to their mother. Leech twitched from the impending knot forming inside her, knowing she wouldn't be able to hold this orgasm back. As if sensing it himself Pennywise's tendril between her breasts slithered around her throat and brought her close to him and she could feel his fangs on the shell of her ear. "Float….float with me." He hissed. Hearing the desperation in his voice sent her over the edge and Leech nearly screamed her orgasm.  "Yes..yesssss…." the eldritch groaned as her body squeezed and shuddered joining her with his own release in both her holes and face.

They bobbed on the surface of the lake panting wildly with exhaustion. Eventually, the tentacles receded and Leech dunked her face underwater to clean herself coming back up to hold her monster. Pennywise affectionately petted his mate's head against him as she used him as a life ring, his own release exhausted him more than he anticipated. He stopped when he spotted a very tall very upset looking figure on the bank of the river.

"Hey you alright?" Leech mumbled weakly, softly kissing his neck. "Pen?"

"Vorhees." He snarled. Leech released her mate and groaned.

"Shit! My phone's on the shore. We can't call the exterminator."

"I am more than capable of defending you dear. We do not need to get Kruger. " The clown snarled.

"You'll be fighting him all night I want to go to dinner."

"It will take me five minutes Peachy."

"Yeah, and you'll end up getting stabbed then I'm taking care of you for the rest of the night. I know how this goes Pen, this happens every time we fuck outside. Also, why isn't he yelling?"

The clown grunted and shut his eyes "The riot you started on Halloween. Throat injury."

"And lemme guess he has a grudge. Fanfuckingtastic." Leech groaned as the undead giant raised his machete pointing to the spot his vocal chords had been maimed. "Guess we have no choice but to kick his butt."

"You won't be doing anything."

"Yes I will, there's two of us and one of him."

"You are pregnant."

"Just because you knocked me up doesn't mean I can't still punch people!"

"He has a weapon Peachy!"

"And I have five on each hand!"

Jason had shuffled to a rock to sit down as he waited for the pair to stop arguing. He pulled out a white board and began to write hoping to get things moving. The giant threw a stone at Pennywise then pointed to what he wrote. Can I just kill you so I can go home?

"Why don't you just leave us alone instead!" Leech called out from the middle of the lake.

You guys were clearly breaking the rules on premarital sex in the woods sorry! Jason wrote back.

"Enough of this." Pennywise growled and sunk into the water moving through it like a crocodile as he glared at the giant.

"Can you at least hand me a towel first." Leech complained as her mate dragged her to the shore.

"You! I am fed up with being disturbed. Peachy say I do so we may be left in peace."

"The fuck does that mean?"

"Say it."

"Hand me a fucking towel first and tell me what the fuck is going on."

An annoyed and impatient rumble escaped the clown's lips as he tossed Leech's towel to her. "And what do we say?"

"I-I do? Pen what-"

"Excellent I declare us married now leave." The eldritch pointed at the giant then to the woods.

"What the fuck?!" Leech hissed pulling her towel around herself. Her clown arched an eyebrow then grunted in realization quickly leaning down to peck his mate on the lips before grinning smugly. "Leave." He sneered and lazily rested an arm over his apparently new bride. Jason looked just as confused as the nosferatu.

"I married us you may no longer disturb me or my mate."

"The fuck does that mean Pen?" Leech snarled at him holding her towel up as best she could

"I own the town" he shrugged.

"Oh my God. So this was…"

"Official yes."

The vampire's breath caught in her throat. Did she just get married? In a towel? To Pennywise? Air she needed air. No, wait she needed to sit. Her stress was too high the babies were already exhausting her.

"Can you both just excuse me for just a second." The vampire walked to the edge of the water and promptly passed out face-first onto a large stone. Her body twitched and vomited ichor before going completely still.

Pennywise stared at her for a moment then back to where Jason was standing. Then back to his still unconscious wife. This did not go as planned. Not at all.

[angelccake]

Her, Chapter One (M)

You and him have some dark, twisted history. You’ve spent the last two years of your life trying to forget it all. What’ll happen when all of it’s thrown back at you all at once?

Prologue

Chapter Two

Word count// 1914

WARNINGS// strong language, blood/gore, torture, desecration of human remains, stalking, obsession, unhealthy relationships, character death, hints of anxiety disorder, mentions of substance abuse, rated m for future smut and grisly details

I’M IN NO WAY ENDORSING ANY OF THIS, IT WAS ALL WRITTEN FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. IF YOU ARE BOTHERED PLEASE DO NOT READ

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“I have looked everywhere in this forsaken place and I still can’t find him,” I thought to myself. I had made my way across the creaky hardwood dance floor, over to bar with the sleazy looking bartender, and even slipped into the, thankfully empty, men’s bathroom. Changmin was absolutely nowhere to be found, and now I actually was starting to worry about him. He always did this, anytime we got into a big argument he would leave to go get piss ass drunk at some cheap bar, and I would have to go hunt him down to drag him home. But this time was different, I had already checked all of his usual places with no luck. So I ended up at the last bar within city limits, the “Lucky One”, and to be completely honest it didn’t look like anybody had gotten luck here in ages.

Deciding I wasn’t going to find him here, I huffed and made my way to the back door. As I got through the door I started walking towards my car, and looked up to see some guy fumbling with the trunk of his car. He looked like he was struggling, so I stepped closer to offer my help, and I saw him. I saw Changmin on the ground wearing the same outfit I saw him storm out in just hours earlier, with the guy hooking his arms under his shoulders to lift him into the car. With all common sense leaving me, my first reaction was to scream at the top of my lungs and yell, “What the fuck are you doing?!” As if it wasn’t obvious enough that my boyfriend was currently being kidnapped.

At this moment the guy had dropped Changmin onto the pavement and was staring dead at me.  My whole body froze, like when an antelope makes eye contact with the cheetah that’s about to pounce on to it. We stayed like that for a moment, taking each other in or sizing each other up, I don’t know.  I had to force the gears in my head to start turning again, and make myself turn to run back inside the bar. As soon as my feet hit the pavement I heard the clomp of combat boots coming at me twice as fast, I pleaded with every muscle in my body to just get me to the door then this would be over. But they didn’t listen, I felt two strong arms wrap around me, pulling into a hard chest that smelled like a burning fire and fancy cologne. I tried to break free, but the arms had an iron grip around my mouth and throat. The world around me started to darken and just before everything went black, I felt him press the tip of his nose to the shell of my ear, as if taking in my scent.

Present day

“Okay Y/n, we’re going to be working on exposure from here on out. You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this if you weren’t ready,” Mrs. Kwon said while looking at me through her specs with those gentle eyes of hers. She was the kindest woman I’ve ever met, but at this moment I wanted nothing more than to slap her across her face. How could she do this to me? She knows what happened to me, what he did. She’s seen me at rock bottom multiple times, and yet she still did this to me.

Well, that’s what was going through my head this morning. But after I got the voice to stop, I understood. She wanted me to face him and realize that he couldn’t hurt me anymore, I didn’t have to be afraid. And if anybody was to tell me I was ready for that, it was her. Just after “the scare” I started seeing her five days a week, back then I could barely get out of my apartment without having an attack. But now I only saw her twice a week, and only called when I actually needed to. In all honesty, I agreed with her. Hence why I was currently making my way towards two more metal detectors, and a female guard waiting to pat me down. And it wasn’t even the thought of him that was giving me the creeps, it was the building itself. On the outside it looked like a giant cinder block with windows, and the inside was just the same, grey cement lit up by artificial light.

After my last round of security checks I met two male guards waiting for me at a pair of steel double doors, as we went through the doors they lead to a straight hallway. Same cement walls, white tile floors, but there was nothing on the walls. Not even a clock. What set the eerie mood though was that it felt like it went on forever, an occasional twist or turn here or there, but never an end. It wasn’t until we came to another steel door that the two guards stopped and one of them said, “Here we are, just go right through here.”

My eyes widened, I turned to face them and asked, “You guys aren’t coming in?” The burlier looking one, whose eyes turned into crescents even while giving me the smallest of smiles answered, “No, he requested us not to. When you’re finished you can just come back the way we came.” His response was so cool you would of thought we were talking about the weather. Afterwards they both turned around and started heading back down the endless hallway, leaving me standing in front of the door dumbfounded. How the hell could an inmate ask the guards not to be present, let alone this  inmate? The longer I stood there the farther Mrs. Kwon’s words got away from me, so I held my breath and opened the door. And when I opened my eyes, that I didn’t realize I’d been squeezing shut, I was met by a not so daunting row of metal chairs in front of metal tables that were split in half. On top of the tables were giant slabs of plexiglass with circular two way mics in the middle of them, and had plaques of metal extending from the sides of them to separate the individual booths. I was surprised to see that none of the booths seemed to be occupied, but then again who would want to visit here?

I was still taking in the room when someone cleared their throat, sounding a little impatient. I turned my head in the general direction it came from, and he was there. Sitting about three booths away from the center, just lounging in his chair, twiddling his thumbs while looking at me expectantly. It was weird seeing him like this, so calm, so peaceful, so nonthreatening. He looked like he was just relaxing on someone’s sofa, completely forgetting he was the one wearing handcuffs on his wrists and ankles.

“Are you going to say hi, or do you just want to keep staring at me?”

The suddenness of his voice made me jump and shoot my eyes up to his face, but when I looked at him I saw no malice. So I gave in and answered with ease, “Hey Tao.” 

 With that an easy smile crept up on the corners of his lips, and I walked over to take the seat in front of him. Every bone in my body was telling me not to fall into this, not to let my guard down, but I couldn’t help it. At least for right now, he wasn’t the same guy I remembered.

He watched me the entire time with attentive cat-like eyes, finally settling them on me once I was in the chair. And we sat there for a moment, just looking at each other again. Now that I was closer I noticed all the little things about him, he was missing his numerous earrings, and an orange jumpsuit replaced all of the black leather I remembered. I wondered if he noticed anything about me. But then he broke the silence, “As nice as it would be, I know you didn’t come here to socialize.” He wasn’t smiling, but his good mood hadn’t faltered yet.

“No, I only came because my therapist asked me too. But since I’m here, I decided I wanna ask you about Changmin.“

He narrowed his eyes at the mention of his name and answered roughly, “Do I honestly have to talk about him?” Well, any hope of keeping him in a good mood had just vanished.

“I preferred that you did.”

“Hmph. Well since you’ve been so polite, what do you want to know?”

It was obvious he was trying to cover up his annoyance, he was trying to salvage the easy atmosphere of before, like he hadn’t just shattered it. Those shards hitting the floor announced to my body that it had been right all along, I shouldn’t have fallen for the pretty facade. But hey, at least now I know how a fly feels when it realizes the harmless flower it sat on was a Venus fly trap. Nevertheless I continued, I refused to leave empty handed.

“Why did you pick him?”

He scoffed, “He wasn’t so special, he was just pure opportunity. He bumped into me, which I brushed off, but then he was trying his damnedest to start a fight. So I figured, why not?”

All of sudden I felt my insides burning, and I couldn’t stop myself before blurting out, “How can you think like that? He was a human being, he had a family, he didn’t deserve to be mur-”

“Don’t try to preach to me that he was just this harmless man, that didn’t get what he deserved. He told me everything Y/n, the cheating, the fights, everything! Hell, I even saw the fresh bruises on your wrist the night I found you,” he was spewing venom, and I could feel the sting and his anger rise with each word. Along with it I could feel my own sickening fear begin to boil over, and I knew there was no way I could get him to calm down now. But I could at least try, and hope he’d listen.

“Tao just calm-”

“Don’t you dare interrupt me. You know everything I’m saying is the truth, you fucking lived it! But don’t you worry I made sure he regretted it all. For every bruise he left, I left bigger ones. Every time he sprained your arm, I broke his. Until finally I threw him the incinerator, just to give him a taste of what Hell was going to feel like. And I promise you, I was smiling as he burned. But that wasn’t even the best part. The best was when I grounded his bones into dust, relishing in the fact that he could never touch you again,” he had leaned over the table so much he was almost touching the glass, and his eyes were so dark they were nearly pitch black.

I couldn’t help it, I was horrified. This was the Tao I remembered, terrifying, vindictive, and righteous all at the same time. I knew he couldn’t get to me, but my body was just screaming at me to get away before he found a way to. This time I listened, my body moved so fast I gave myself whiplash. I heard the metal chair hit the ground, something that sounded like Tao shouting, and wind buzzing past my ears. I was running, just like I had before.

**********************************************************************

Oh my god y'all, its here!! And y'all tell me how y'all feel, cause none of you guessed him. So now Idk how I feel either lol, But honestly, when I first came up with this fic I felt like it just had to be tao, idk why. And now its just funny bc he’s such a soft baby but I made him into a killer lol. Anyways, I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT AND STICK AROUND FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!!! LOVE YALL

All gifs belong to their original owners

[thenixkat]

Animorphs notes: Megamorphs 2

Megamorphs 2

Marco 1

Saw something on the news and mentioned it to the others leading to everyone in a storm trying to breathe in dolphin morph

Of course its not like sharks need to breath air and might be better in some cases

Marco uses humor to cope

Rainy day

So why are the animorphs getting involved with a sunken nuclear sub?

Marco wants to go out of his way to save people again.

Him and Rachel are like the most likely on the team to become superheros

Or they could put their stuff in a bag and bury it on the beach instead of putting things in the trash?

How exactly do these guys plan on rescuing people?

Cassie 1

Everybody morphs dolphin

They find the sub

Jake 1

Ah yes the plan to kidnap an officer. Totally would have no negative reprocussions

Can’t just act in a weird and obvious manner to direct people to the sub

Sometimes dolphins help people, sometimes dolphins kill people. Its a rulette game as to whichever a dolphin is more interested in at the moment

The writter makes a comment on war and nukes

A nuke goes off and instead of being vaporised by the light the kids get transported through time and space for some reason

Rachel 1

One of these days a kid is gonna get trapped in morph when they’re uncoincious

Cassie’s the only one who had any injuries from the fucking nuke going off

Why is there a volcano over there? There shouldn’t be volcanoes where they are

Rachel watches the Magic Schoolbus

That’s not how plesiosaurs work and you could never mistake them for a whale even with sonar

Ax is smug about those not being whales

Tobias 1

Why the hell are fucking plesiosaurs intered in them in the first place?

Tobias got vored by something big enough to swallow a 10ft at least dolphin whole

This is causing me pain

Rachel got vored by something that can fit 2 ten or so foot dolphins inside its stomach

Looked it up and yeah no, plesiosaurs were def known to not have flexible necks by the time this was written

No that can’t be an ichthyosaur b/c they’re gone by this point in the Cretaceous and the on ly ones that big were likely FILTER FUCKING FEEDERS

Random ass gulper eel dolphin sea monster

Rachel decides that morphing is the best idea in the stomach

Tobias morphs too

Jake 2

Ax doesnt get to have a turn yet what a surprise

Cassie says they should try to rescue Rachel and Tobias, Jake says thats a fucking dumb idea and he’s right

Jake is pissed at people getting themselves eaten and Cassie coming up with dumb fucking idea

There should actually be some seagull like dinosaurs but I think those were discovered much later than these were written

Kids finally put 2 and 2 together and realized that they aint in Kansas anymore

They havent actually put togther the gone back in time bit yet

Jake and the writer seem to be under the impression that dolphins have no natural defenses

They are almost there in realizing what happened

Cassie 2

Still no fucking Ax narration

THESE KIDS ARE REALLY FUCKING DUMB

Sauropods did not leave elephant like foot prints. At all

Nope not figured it out yet

Cassie, you should know that whales can’t swallow whole full gown dolphins

Cassie almost gets eaten by a crocodilian and these kids still haven’t fucking figured it out

Wait a minute. Grass doesn’t exist in this time period

Also Cassie should know better. Herbivores can and will fuck you up with little provication

They finally figured it out

I see we have movie monster Tyrannosaurs

Rachel 2

Wow Ax really doesnt have any rights does he?

...that’s not how anatomy

Bears are not herder to digest than dolphins

This is hurting ,me

Tobias everything you said aside from the hadrosaurs was pure bullshit

Rachel thinks the dinosaur angle is rediculous

Tobias 2

Tobias you have a fucking hork-bajir morph you utter dumbass

Wow Tobias is bad at morphing, he can’t even get rid of his injuries

Tobias gets to be extra useless and cause Rac hel pain by haveing to perch on her

Grass doesnt exist in this time period

There was a gradual decline in the late Cretaceous of nonavien dinosaurs, the asteroid was the last nail in the coffin

T. rex was just another animal not not much more dangerous than say a lion, just bigger

Marco 2

Ax doesnt get to narrate I guess

There is no reason for the tyrannosaur to be chasing them it just made a fucking kill

They aren’t even the right size to be worth the fucking effort either

Marco almost gets eaten and is saved by Ax who papercuts the thing to death

Ax 1

Yeaaaah Ax vs Tyrannosaur should not end in victory for Ax

I flatout don’t belive this rediculousness and my suspension of disbelife died several chapters ago

Ax is fucking shook that worked

Ok good Ax was very very fucking lucky that worked and not gonna try that again

No, Ax, no that is not scientificly possible b/c theres no fucking dna in the fucking fossiles they are bone and other shit shaped rocks

When the fuck did Cassie get any survival skills? Did she decide to brush up after the Karen incident

Well we have ‘I will survive this with or without you’!Cassie today

Yall could actually morph Ax and have your own andalite tails. Or fucking morph hork-bajir

Rachel 3

Grass still doesnt exist yet

At no point did rachel think to escue some modesty and make wraps for her feet

Rachel suggests that Tobias morph human, even perminatly

He is very shit at morphing 

I guess he expects that he’s got days to live as a wounded bird over anything else he could fucking morph

Rachel refuses to fucking make it known that she’s suffering

In what fucking world does that description matach a triceratops

Also deinonychus, not around at the end of the cretaceous

Deinonychus is about almost 3 ft tall at hip and a ft longer than that

Naked ass ones at that

Them going after them at least makes sense

Cassie 3

Camping and eating tyrannosaur meat

Gonna sleep in shifts

People keep forgetting that they have hork-bajir morphs which are amazing and also that they could just aquire Ax

Tobias 3

Nothing about the majority of large dromaeosaurs suggests that they’re fast. The opposite actually. Ambush predators not chasers.

Tobias and Rachel split up

Tobias and the writers forgot about wing assisted incline running and the fact that raptors can fucking climb if the have to

Tobias drops on one and aquires it

Tobias 4?

This is going with the not-dynonicus being diurnal for some reason

Tobias lost control of the morph and will probably attack Rachel

Jake 3

The rock that was the final nail for the dinos is estableshed bvery firmly\

Stampede

And a nother tyrannosaur

Jake trips and falls when it matters most

Rachel 4

Tobias is really serious about not identifying as human

Rachel tries to reach him over smashing the lead raptor

Jake 4

Jake gets vored by the tyrannosaur whole even tho it was already eating bigger more interesting prey

Jake aquires the thing and starts morphing imediately

That tyrannosaur broke its fucking tail

Everyone aquires the injured dinosaur

Marco 3

Marcos not happy and everyone misses Rachel

More travel

Ax says the flash of light that started the stampede was artifical

Did Ax just say he can see ultraviolet and infrared

They find an alien city

Tobias 5

Tobias is bitching about Rachel still being mad that he gutted her

Neither of them are healing their injuries for no good reason

Ew, Tobias gross.

Rachel has a raptor morph now

Rachel isn’t a coherent person when hrungy and tired

Why are there coconut trees? They dont exist yet

Rachel eats a not coconut

No. That is not a fucking spinosaurus. Spino is fucking African and didn’t live at the same time as T.rex

Tobias metally calls Rachel stupid

Rachel 5

This is really fucking poorly reserched

And lo an alien:

And that's when I noticed the other creature step smoothly out from the

bushes.

It walked on two legs. It was rough-textured, like it had really chapped

skin. It was reddish in color. It had two big eyes and a small mouth,

all of the same reddish-rust hue. It stood about eight feet tall. It was

carrying a weapon.

The creature gazed curiously at us with what seemed to be eyes, although

they were mere indentations in its face. From its head a pair of

antennae, flexible as whips, grew and began waving toward us.

The alien calls dibs on the dinosaurs and speaks Fucking English

The nesk

The nesk is a pile of antlike creatures

Anmd really Rachel just fucking escalate things to outright violence

Cassie 4

Cassie suggests that they just go see who the aliens are

And that Jake stay behind b/c she doesnt want to loose more people

The alien city:

We flew toward the shining city in the valley. With osprey eyes I could see much more clearly. I saw buildings that rose in steep, smooth sweeps, like they'd grown from the bedrock. Windows were stuck in odd locations, some aiming out, others more like skylights. And there were fields planted with green and arranged in neat circles instead of rows.

The aliens themselves:

As we got closer, I could see creatures of some sort. They looked a little like large - very large - crabs. Only with shells in a wild array of colors, deep blue, spring green, orange. And while on one side there was something very much like a large pincer, on the other side there was a pair of hands.

Crab people

TRhe kids are attacked by naked pterosaurs

Tobias 6

Wow its almost like starting a fight with an unknown party can go wrong

The ship:

The ground beside me exploded, like it had been ripped by an invisible

plow. I jumped. Another plow mark just behind me! I saw movement. And

there, racing toward us across the plain, was a gleaming, silver craft.

Maybe twice the size of a Bug fighter, but shaped like an elongated

pyramid, long end forward.

The nesk herd Rachel and Tobias away from their claimed territory

Ah they’re falling over the cliff of the mercora city

Jake 5

Daring mid air antics and the team is reunited

Also a force field wich is smart\

Ax is tired of having to be the info guy

At least its not a killer forcefield like the kind that yeerks use

The mercora introduce themselves

Ax 2

Ax and his andalite bullshit

More of the mercora:

There were three of the creatures. They moved upon seven legs. Four on

one side, three on the other. To make matters worse, the four

legs were larger than the three. So they scuttled sideways in the

direction of the small legs.

They stood about half the height of a tall human, and seven or eight

feet wide.

On the side with the four big legs, there was a sort of three-way pincer

claw. It looked very powerful. It looked like the sort of thing I would

not want to have to fight against.

On the other side, the weak side, there were two arms similar to my own,

but even stronger than human arms. The arms ended in long, tapered,

delicate fingers.

There were a lot of eyes. They kept opening and shutting, one or two or

three at a time. They were each hidden beneath tiny trap doors in the

Mercora's exoskeleton or shell. Eyes were forever appearing and

disappearing. It was very, very distracting.

Which is a cool design

They talk in thought speak

Just b/c humans in the future don’t know about the mercora doesnt mean they left or were destroy you dumb fucks

Marco 4

The mercora healed Tobias, gave everyone food, a place to stay and even offered to make them soem clothes

The crabs wear clothing or at least make it

And they have force field furniture

Also that’s not how broccli works

Marco makes a vore joke about the mecora

Really Cassie?

The mercora are herbivores

All you have is the mecoras’ word on that and they are in direct conflict with the nesk 

And so what if they’re scavengers?

Very rarely but sometimes Cassie has a valid point

Ax 3

Ax is still kinda specist

Hmm I wonder why the mercora aprove? Its not like they can have an alterior motive here

And the mercora are going to help

Ax is very lonely in genera;

Cassie 5

The writers are fucking awesomebros

And they can’t control the morphs

Cassie gets wounded by a ceratopsian

Jake 6 

What? We were just with Cassie oh forget it

Jake is suicidally confidant that Cassie wouldn’t eat him

Apparently Jake is right

Cassie freaks out

Ax 3

Tobias keeps being wrong.

The nesk have thought speak detectors

Tobias 7

They group steal an explosive and destroy the nesk ships

Rachel 6

The nesk retaliate very effectively

Ax calls for back up 

TRachel throws herself around to draw away fire from the others

The mercora attempt a rescue and loose a ship

Culture:

The Mercora saucer picked us up, us and our little nuke. But they were a

grim, depressed bunch of aliens. It was hard to tell at first. But then

I noticed that each of them was minus one of their smaller legs. There

were just oozing stumps.

"What happened to your legs?" I asked. But even as the words were out of

my mouth, I saw the limbs in the corner. They were laid out on a

brightly colored cloth which was draped over a shelf. There was

something ceremonial about it. Almost religious.

<Can you explain the meaning of this?> Ax asked politely.

<We must make the sacrifice of pain. The legs will regenerate, but those

we honor will not,> the Mercora pilot said. <This is a symbol. It speaks

to our spirit's pain, by echoing it in physical pain.>

"They did this for the Mercora who were in the other ship?" Jake asked.

<For those who were in both ships,> the pilot said. <To be killed is a

sadness. To kill is a sin.>

Jake says the they owe the mercora for saving them

Fuck you Tobias

Tobias 8

Tobias this is premeditated murder

The nesk have decided to leave the earth

The mercora claim that the nesk altered the path of the meteor

They want to use the bomb to save themselves

Cassie 6

Fuck you Tobias

You need to be held accountable for this shit

Its almost like the vast majority of things to ever live never leave any fucking fossils you nit

This bastard is really trying to justify himself like this is anyway defensible

Fuck you Tobias, you get to join Cassie and Jake in the bin of fucking terrible people

Jake 7

Oh what you little bitch babies can’t handle the consequences?

Tobias deserves his unhappines and eventual death

Cassie 7

Cassie at least decides to bear witness to their crime

CVassie saw the time pass

No good reason given why they can’t retain those morphs

Tobias needs to pay for his shit