#t.w.: kidnapping

[katiesmultimuseblogrpg]

Youngmee took a good look at her surroundings. Trapped here with no idea why anyone was even on this island was a mystery to everyone, but there had to be a logical reason for so many people who had originally lived in different cities and different states and even different countries to be here, right? She had just finished a very long work shift at the Java Lava Coffee House, when she suddenly noticed that a person is nearby her. Hoping to potentially make a new friend, or get some possible reasons on what had happened to them, Youngmee walked towards the person. "Hi, I was just wondering if you might want to help me out with something? You see, I'm trying to figure out what happened to everyone who is now trapped here, with no possible way of returning back to their hometowns, and I was just wondering if you think we were kidnapped, or something? What are your ideas on what happened to us, for all of us to be living here and not our hometown?" She asked the person. @forgottenfriendshipstarters

[adhdduckie]

CATS AND WITCHES; sam winchester x fem!witch!reader

my masterlist

irl moots pls dni, i'll actually die if you mention this irl.

SOULMATESSSS

on the radio; at last by etta james

word count: 7.4k

synopsis; early seasons sam and dean were passing through a small town, where they see an ad about an unnatural disappearance of a girl, there were reports of large feline mammals around the victim's house before the disappearance, and the girl who disappeared mentioned having strange visions. sam and dean decide to check it out because of the large reward for any information. SOULMATESSSS

t.w; swearing, violence, supernatural stuff

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sam has spent the last 3 days in the car, and he's bored out of his mind. the Winchester brothers had just finished a vampire hunt the week before, and were travelling around north of texas to find their father.

they were sitting in a small diner booth, going through some newspapers to see if there were any supernatural reports. sam was sipping a mug of some pretty bad coffee, but he had no other alternatives.

"here's one." dean says, turning around the newspaper he was looking at. sam sets down his coffee, picking it up and his eyes are caught by the red circle around the missing advert.

"the disappearance of a girl." sam reads aloud. he looks up from the paper, looking at dean with a raised eyebrow.

"keep reading." dean replies, nodding his head.

"reward of twelve thousand dollars if you can find her, and bring her home. come to * address, **** town, north texas for more information, regarding before her disappearance." he finishes.

dean whistles. "that's a lot of money. is she special or something? or is her family just rich?"

"how do we know it's a supernatural disappearance and not a kidnapping or something like that?" sam asks, setting the paper down as he speaks to dean.

"well, they wouldn't be offering such a large sum if it was a kidnapping. but it's probably worth checking out anyway, with that large of a sum. plus, i checked the map, it's only an hour's drive from here." dean replies, swallowing the rest of his breakfast.

"we could use the money anyway." dean says, as a way to convince sam.

"fine." is sam's response, and they both get up from their breakfast, throwing cash onto the table, before heading back to baby.

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sam steps out of the car, looking up at the large mansion before him.

"damn." dean whistles, shutting baby's door.

"this better be worth our time." sam says as they stride towards the large mahogany door.

Sam noticed that the closer they got to your house, there was a pull at his stomach. Something seemed so familiar but so alienating at the same time. The closer he got, the stronger the pull in his stomach got as well. maybe it was something bad he had at the diner. he knew it looked way too suspicious for such a cheap meal.

Sam’s knocked out of his reverie, his hand clutching his abdomen as dean knocks quite aggressively, and a "coming!" is heard from the other side of the door.

seconds later, a small woman stands in front of the door, and dean and sam both have to crane their necks down to look at her properly. she's wearing a pair of old jeans and a large shirt, and she looks like your typical old auntie that you'd find at a market, bartering for cheaper prices.

"how can i help you?" she asks them.

dean holds up the newspaper advert, showing it to her. "we're here to hear more about the disappearance of a girl? we think we might be able to help." he responds.

the old auntie looks them up and down, sizing them up. she huffs, and opens the door further for both of them to come in. "My name is Miss jones. Would you like tea or coffee? Mrs. L/N will see you soon."

"coffee would be good, thanks." sam responds, and dean chimes the same. miss jones gestures towards one of the pristine white couches, as she goes to make the coffee, with a teeter in her step.

"mrs l/n! there's someone at the door who thinks they can help with Miss Y/n's disappearance." miss jones yells up the large swirling stairs, which are both dark and elegant.

"alright alright. I'll be down soon, make sure they're comfortable!" is the response from the top of the spiral staircase. The seemingly disembodied voice is regal and smooth, sounding as if it seems to curl around the brain.

the couch is plush and comfortable, the room is majestic and comforting, some soft classical music seems to slither into the room from a study, and there are loads of what they assume to be family pictures everywhere.

heels clack against marble staircases as a woman walks down the stairs, her eyes seeming to dim when they look at sam and dean.

"hello, my name is mrs l/n. I do hope that you're comfortable." she asks them, reaching out to sam and dean in a handshake. her hand is soft to the touch, but it's a very firm handshake.

mrs l/n sits in front of them both, her legs crossed over the other at the thigh. She's dressed in a smart suit and pants, as if she's ready for a photoshoot. ms jones comes in from the kitchen, placing down two hot mugs of the best smelling coffee in front of the boys, with a wide assortment of finger sandwiches.

sam and dean share a look, picking up a small sandwich each.

"we're sam and dean. we saw your advert in the paper, mrs. we thought we might be able to help. you see, we specialise in a sort of detective work." dean says, instantly switching on the charisma.

Mrs. L/N sighs. "at this point, i would accept anyone's help for this. the best P.Is we hired were unable to find anything." she pulls out a handkerchief from her suit front pocket, dabbing at her wet eyes, ever the picture of regality.

"i suppose you'd like to hear more about it, right?" She asks.

the boys both nod, picking up some more of the sandwiches. ms jones takes the already empty plate back to the kitchen, filling it up with more assortments for the boys.

"it started last month. my daughter, who i believe is about your age, maybe a couple years younger, she's twenty. a wonderful soul." she sobs, her regal and composed demeanour cracking before them.

the boys wait for her to compose herself before continuing.

"she came home from university, and she was so shaken up. it was easter break, so i was very excited to see her again. she only visits every school break, you know? she seemed so off. i asked her what was wrong, but she kept saying that she was fine, and she was just upset about not obtaining 100% on her end of term exam. i didn't believe her, of course, i could tell it was something more than that."

the boys lean forward, only subconsciously reaching for the delicious small finger sandwiches. mrs l/n cracks a small smile at that, and continues on.

"I persisted, and she finally told me that it was because she kept seeing things. she told me that one night when walking back to her apartment after a late class, she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She didn't think too much of it at first, before she realised it was a large feline. she said she didn't really react, as she was with a large group of her friends, and it was unlikely that it would attack. but every night that week, she said she saw it again.”

“on the final night before she came home, she saw it again while she was getting out of a cab after a night out with friends. she finally saw it properly. she described it as a dark hulking mass that seemed to be made entirely of shadows and horrors. she said she couldn't sleep that night."

at this, the brothers share an interesting look, like a demon or something. or perhaps a familiar of a witch that she had angered.

"She chalked it up to her inebriated state, but it kept eating at her. after she told me, she broke down in tears. i told her she was fine, and she didn't have to worry about it. she was safe in our house. you know, we've always believed in the paranormal, as her father was a very cautious man. we have salt and iron rock brigades in the walls of the house and the marble floors."

sam and dean look surprised at this, having a quick glance around the room. mrs l/n laughs. "i know. i found it silly at first, but my husband has had this house in his family for generations."

"that night when she finally came home, after telling me everything, she retired to her room. the next morning i had gone into her bedroom to look for her to tell her breakfast was ready, and she-" mrs l/n sobs.

"she?" sam supplies. dean's too busy stuffing his face with the plate of cakes that were just set in front of him.

"she wasn't there! there were scratch marks, so deep and etched as if there was something trying to ruin the walls." mrs l/n wails. flailing her arms about. "i'm so-" she hiccups. "i'm so sorry. i'm not usually like this. i miss my daughter, i'm so worried about her."

"we understand. we'll do everything we can to help you. is it possible for us to inspect the scratch marks, and also check out ms y/n's room?"

"of course." is mrs' l/n's response. "you both look so hungry, you must need a lot of food to help you. take up the cake plates with you. and if you want anything else, just yell for either miss jones or i. her room is the one on the third floor, with the flowers and vines on the door." she gives them a watery smile, picking up the plates from the table, holding it up to them.

"thank you mrs. l/n." sam and dean respond, taking the plates, standing up from the couch, as ms jones shows them the way.

'be careful. there's a dark energy in that room." Ms jones whispers to them, as they follow behind her teetering form as she hobbles up the stairs.

"oh don't worry, we're used to it." dean responds, as she points out the room to them, before hobbling back down the stairs to mrs. l/n.

"i hope the winchester brothers are careful." mrs l/n says to ms jones. "I wouldn't want john to get mad at me if they're horribly injured." she turns to the small woman beside her.

"they've grown quite big. especially sam. he's so much bigger now." mrs l/n states.

"why didn't you tell them you know them?" ms jones responds.

"they would probably ask me to tell them where john is, and i can't do that." mrs l/n sighs.

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"mrs l/n is not as snobby as i expected her to be. she's quite nice." dean says to sam, as they stand outside of your room's door.

"i know. what do you think happened to her daughter?" sam asks as he pushes open your door.

dean takes in a deep breath at the sight before him.

"shit." he whispers out. "what happened here?"

your (normally) tidy room is in shambles. cupboards are on the floor, clothes spilling out of them. there's money strewn across the floor, making it look like a robbery scene. there's glass shards on the floor of your room, meaning your room has been broken into. which is strange, considering your room is on the third floor.

the only thing that makes it not look like a robbery and a kidnapping, is the deep scratches on the marble floor, in the solid walls, and in your bed bannisters.

"fuck, man." dean muffles out through a large bite of cake. "that's some really awesome cake." he says.

"seriously? shouldn't we focus on this instead?" sam says, rolling his eyes.

"i can eat cake at the same time."

sam sets down his plates, shrugging off his heavy bag full of iron salt and iron chains.

it seems as if your mother had left it the way she found it, to help with any investigations made into your disappearance.

sam walks closer to the large claw marks on your bed bannisters. the sheets are intact, and it seems like whatever took you woke you up from the glass shattering.

the sheets are a mess, and your pillow is on the floor. there's a bat beside your bed, which seems to be smeared with some blood on the handle.

"shit. what kind of princess has a bat beside her bed?" dean says, noticing Sam's gaze.

"her mom told us she was really freaked out. she probably put it there for her own protection." sam responds, rolling his eyes.

sam runs his fingers over the deep etches in the bedframe, pausing when he feels a pulse of energy.

"that's weird." he states absentmindedly to himself, not noticing dean standing behind him, still holding onto what must be his third plate of chocolate cake.

"what?" He mumbles around the cake.

sam turns his head, still crouching low as he runs his fingers to the next deep scratch. there's something pulling at him, so he follows it, but he stoops low to pick up his bag, beckoning dean behind him.

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sam's followed it into a deep, dark forest. it's a couple of miles from your house, a large secluded forest.

dean complains about the temperature as he walks, but the deeper they go into the forest, the more they realise that something is wrong.

well, not wrong, but it feels, heavy. not temperature wise, but an aura that seems lonely and sad. it settles on the shoulders, causing the walk to get harder and slower.

dean's lugging the bags, complaining of the weight as he hobbles. He's still injured from their last hunt, and he's been slow and in pain recently.

a couple of branches snaps in the distance, and they both pause. It's not an animal. they're silent there on out, and walk towards the sound. The pull is getting stronger.

there's a figure hooded in the dark, and sam and dean share a look. what is it this time, a demon, a cold maiden or a wailing banshee?

the closer they get, they realise it's not any of the aforementioned. the figure is small, human-like. their hands are corporeal, foraging in the grass for herbs. the pull he feels is getting stronger. in sam's haste to get closer, to see what they're looking at, he steps on a branch, and it cracks loudly.

In the forest, you’ve been foraging, the entire day, you had been feeling a light tug on your stomach, and you just thought it was because your familiar had been away. You had been feeling a pull in your stomach, but just as the branch cracks, it gets stronger. your head shoots up, and you freeze.

what you first think you see is a moose, but the longer you look, it's a pair of two boys. the one who's startled you is taller than the other, and he's the one that you thought was a moose. but what scares you the most is the fact they're both carrying two large heavy bags, not knowing what they might hold inside. so you do the first thing that comes to your mind, you run.

sam recognizes you from the images, and just as he realises the look in your eyes is fear, it's too late. you're already running.

sam sprints after you, wanting to talk and understand why you've seemed to stage your own abduction, but when dean catches up to sam, he tells him to stop, and the more he chases, the more likely you're to run.

"why is she here? why is she okay?" sam asks dean. dean just shrugs, and thinks for a second.

"she was probably sick of her home life or something." dean finally responds, picking up the bags that sam had dropped. dean frowns before finishing. "but you said that you felt a pulse of dark energy, right?"

sam nods in response. curiosity gets the best of him, and he wants to know why you were running. and for the large bounty, they have to bring you back.

they follow the pull that sam feels, the force pulling him closer to you.

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"what. the fuck." you're thinking as you sprint through the forest. you're wondering how they found you, and what were they going to do to you?

you make it back to the small cottage you found in the woods years ago, having made it more habitable as time had passed.

slamming the door behind you, you lean against it, sliding down until you're sitting.

"fuck. who were they?" you ask yourself, praying that they won't be coming after you.

you stand, setting down the basket you had used to collect the mushrooms on the sink, petting the maine coon that sits next to you, he purrs, rubbing his head against your hand, you’re glad that he’s back.

suddenly, you hear the front door creak open, and the moose boy and what seems to be his brother now that you have had a proper look, are standing there.

you freeze, standing up and immediately picking up the large knife on the counter. "what do you want?" you demand, brandishing it at them.

the moose boy, who's broad and tall, drops the bags they were carrying on the threshold of your house. his hands, which are large like the rest of him, are held up in a sign of surrender, a sign that they weren't going to hurt you.

"we don't wanna hurt you. we just wanna talk." he says to you. his voice is deep, and if he wasn't a total stranger who barged into your house, you'd describe it as soothing.

"the fuck you mean you wanna talk? who are you? how did you find me?" you grumble, whirring the knife around and around your hand.

dean laughs, scoffing a little. "she's not as princess as I thought. How is she mrs. l/n's daughter?" he says to sam.

you overhear him, pausing. "what do you mean? how do you know my mother?" you demand, holding the knife further up.

"she's the one who hired us to find you. she thinks you've been taken." sam states slowly, approaching you as if you're an easily startled deer.

you lower your knife, setting it down. you'll trust these boys for now. they don't seem so bad. your maine coon, ares, however, disagrees. he snarls, shifting into his larger form. he's the size of a tiger in that form. the whiteness of his fur melting into a dark, staticky one.

dean lets out a yell in surprise, and hits sam in the face. the whisps of darkness of ares's fur are tinted with a red, and they float towards you.

"no! ares. stop." you demand, and he turns his head to your side, baring his teeth. "it's fine for now." you state.

dean and sam know what you are now. a witch, with a rare familiar. "fuck." sam whispers. "yeah." dean agrees.

ares snarls again, before shifting back into his original form.

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a few minutes later, your door is closed, and the three of you are settled around your small kitchen, steaming cups of herbal tea set up in all of their hands.

your mug is small in sam's hand, and it would be funny how out of place he looks in the small hut if you weren't so worried. he really does remind you of a moose.

"okay, moose. tell me everything." you state, pointing at sam.

"first of all, moose? what the hell is that?" he asks, bewildered. dean laughs, smacking him on the back.

"i dunno. you remind me of one." you shrug, but you point at him again.

"okay, your mom hired us to look for you since she's super worried. you just up and disappeared. " dean interjects.

"but the real question is, what the hell are you doing?" sam finishes.

you let out a deep sigh. In the last couple of days, you've felt so stressed about this. whatever these powers are, they're so annoying. what have you done to deserve this?

"the cat you saw, ares, he's supposed to be my familiar." you tell them everything, about how your powers manifested, how ares had found you to help you control your powers better, how you ran away because you were scared of hurting your friends and your loved ones.

"ares did the scratching for me, in the wood. he broke the glass for me, to make it look like a burglary. i did my best." you finish, and you're feeling tears well up in your eyes.

"hey." sam soothes you, resting a hand on your shoulder. his palm is warm and heavy, and you briefly wonder what it would be like to hold it.

"i'm learning to control my powers too, we should work together." he suggest and dean sends him a funny look.

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your mom cries and hugs when she sees you, and gives the money that was promised to the two boys.

"why did you leave?" she begs you for answer, her arms still wrapped around you.

dean and sam, you now know their names, are sat on your couch again, eating some food.

"i was scared. I didn't want to hurt you." you tell her, mumbling into her hair.

"you could never. I should have warned you that it was coming." your mom tells you, patting your head softly. this gets everyone's attention.

"you knew?" sam, dean and you all say at the same time. you catch the eyes of sam, and he smiles at you supportively. Is it weird that it's supportive, even though you've only known him a couple hours?

"yeah. it's been passed down through generations, but it skipped me." she shrugs, telling everyone. "it's funny, because when we were younger, john-" she slaps a hand over her own mouth.

"fuck." she whispers out, but it's muffled.

"you knew our father?" sam asks your mum, standing up from his seat. she sighs, and shakes her head.

"i knew him, but i don't know where he is." she says sadly.

your mom tells you all of how she grew up with him, and that they were neighbours. Her father and john’s, were good friends. You even spent some time with sam and dean when you were younger, but just didn’t remember as you were too young.

Everyone nods in understanding, and you finally feel better.

“Mom?” you ask quietly, dragging her to the side. Unknown to you, sam’s watching you with a small smile, but dean notices.

“You whipped already, moose?” dean teases sam. “What-? No.” sam responds, but he feels his face heat up.

“I’m just wondering what led me to her before.” he says, trying to change the topic.

“Who knows. You could be soulmates.” dean jokes, thinking about their shared demon blood.

“Maybe.” he mumbles halfheartedly, not really listening.

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“Mum?” you ask as you pull your mom to the side to talk to her.

“Yes, sweetheart?” she responds.

“Uhm, i want to go with them.” you say.

“What?” your mom panics. “Are you sure? It’s not going to be safe.” she says.

“I know. But i want to learn how to control the powers properly. There are some things I want to learn, some things i need to see that if i don’t leave, i’ll never see.” you tell her, trying your best to convince her.

“I see.” she responds. She’s got her poker face on, the one that won her 10 thousand dollars at a casino in las vegas when you were 11. You don’t know what she’s going to say, but you hope that she’ll let you go. “What’s something you want to learn?” she finally asks you.

You stare at her in bewilderment, your ears reddening before you speak. “Before sam and dean found me, i felt this pull in my stomach. I feel it now, and it only seems to be slacker when i’m with the two of them. I want to learn what that is.”

Your mom laughs so hard, she ends up wiping tears from her eyes. “I see.” she wheezes.

“What?” you ask her.

“Nothing, nothing. You’ll figure it out eventually.” she says, giggling to herself again.

You groan, “but can i go? I want your blessing.” you beg.

“Yes you can. But you must be safe, and remember to call me at least once a week, so that i know you’re still alive and safe. I’ll kill the both of them if they even let you get hurt.” she says, threatening loud enough that sam and dean stop whispering between themselves enough to look up at you both.

Sam’s got a sheepish grin on his face, and dean’s got a smirk, as if he’s saying that he knows something you don’t.

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The next year is a mess.

You spend all of your time with the boys, getting close enough to both of them to consider them both your best friends.

Dean’s like a brother to you. And Sam, well sam-… he’s different.

Everytime you see him, you can’t help but smile. Every room he’s in with you seems brighter than it was before he went in, and you love every single second of your life that you spend with him.

The bond isn’t so strong when you’re together, but it’s only quiet when you’re touching him. If it’s hands pressed together, his arm resting on your shoulder, you tucked into his side, as long as you’re touching, it’s restful.

It’s hard sometimes, the life of a hunter. Your witch abilities help them on the hunt, and the added protection of ares is really good too.

You’re in a pickle, a couple of times. The work is dangerous, and not many make it to an older age.

This last hunting trip is going to kill you, you decide as soon as dean describes what’s going on.

A small rickety sports bar has been popping up all over the country, a popular couple’s bar named ‘hearts aligned.’ the story is that everytime a couple walks in, the chances are that the couples don’t come back out.

It seems to be this strangeness that is attracting all these couples to keep coming anyway. It’s ridiculous how people think that it’s cool because of that, and instead of staying away, they keep coming back.

So this is what leads you to now. Your smaller hand wrapped around sam’s larger one, as you entered the bar. you swear you can hear dean sniggering miles away back at the hotel rooms at the mere thought of your forced proximity with his baby brother.

Of course, dean found out that you liked sam, he became annoying to the point where he found numerous excuses for why he couldn’t do hunts, preferring to stay at the bunker than go out.

“Oh, my back hurts. Since you’re younger, you and moose can go do this one.” he’ll say, as he pushes you and sam out the door. He always sends you a wink.

Moose has now become a nickname for sam. It wasn’t on purpose, no matter how many times sam accuses you of finding the least suitable nickname for him.

Sam and you, wrapped up together as you wait in the lobby of the bar. The smell of sweat and love hangs heavy in the air, sticking to your skin like honey.

You don’t like it. You don’t like how natural it feels to be tucked into sam’s side, his hand resting on your waist. You don’t like how it feels so natural that he’s pressing light kisses to your hairline, like you’re something precious that he’s afraid to be away from for even a second.

You really hate how he’s playing the role of an affectionate boyfriend so well, and you know as soon as this is over, you’re never going to be able to get over it. You’re gonna get addicted if this keeps going on.

Not to mention, you hate how because of your short dress, you're cold, and somehow without you even saying anything, Sam's noticed. You didn’t even say anything, and he wrapped himself around you with the sole goal to warm you up.

And it works, he does. The body heat he emits is more than enough to warm you up, without being too warm. His hand, resting on your hip, is warm even through the fabric of your dress.

And most of all, you hate how the pull that you’ve felt in the pit of your stomach that’s been there since you’ve met the brothers, isn’t tight, for once. It feels as if that the closer you are to him, the more relaxed you feel.

“You okay?” sam whispers into your ear, playing the role of the beloved concerned boyfriend well. You shiver slightly, the warmth of his voice does that to you. It’s impressive how as soon as you feel the slightest bit off, that he notices. It’s as if he’s fine tuned himself into all the subtle shifts of your moods.

“Yeah.” you whisper in response. He does notice the shiver, but he chalks it up to the aircon vent blowing cold air at your back. He moves so that he’s in the way of the aircon’s cold blast, his warm front pressing into your back.

You let out a small huff of air, comfortable with his proximity and his warmth. “How long do you think this’ll take, moose? I’m getting tired.” You whisper to him, the music strangely quiet for a bar. To make sure he hears you better, you turn your face to him, bringing your lips closer to his ear.

He fights a difficult battle, trying everything in his willpower not to blush. That damn nickname, you… Everything, it’s killing him. “Dunno, shouldn’t be that much longer.” he responds in what he hopes is a confident, strong tone.

The longer you stay at the bar, the quieter it gets. Some couples leave giggling and laughing, dragging their partner’s hand with a mischievous smile.

You feel the bar getting colder, and a quick glance at the thermostat proves you right. “Anytime now.” he whispers again.

Suddenly, there’s a guttural screech, and the rest of the bar goers flee the premises, leaving you and sam alone in the bar. He steps away from you, pulling out the revolver supplied with rock salt, and bares it at the source of the screech.

As you unclasp the thigh guard, you pull out your own gun, similar to his. It was a gift from him on your birthday, engraved with your initials and a small cat.

You point it where sam is pointing his gun. You feel goosebumps raising on your arms, the hairs standing up as you hear a little scuttle. If you weren’t so fine tuned into sam, you wouldn’t have noticed how the hairs on the back on his neck stick up as well.

You want to smooth them down, but it really isn’t the time for that.

The scuttling gets louder, the sound of nails on a blackboard screeches through the bar as the music abruptly stops. The screeching gets louder, scuttling like a beetle as it gets closer, so loud that you think it’s right next to you, but you can’t see anything at all.

You pause, feeling your heart momentarily stop. Slowly craning your neck up to the ceiling, you almost scream. A year into the business, and you’re still not prepared.

▷ —-------------------- (crack)

The sound of the chair being knocked over as you scramble away from- from- whatever that thing is.

It’s got long dark hair, which is dangling. A feminine shape, with a covered face, but you can feel eyes staring at you with a glowering menace even without seeing it. Even no longer directly below it, you can feel it staring at you.

Sam gets in a protective stance, blocking its view of you by stepping in front of it.

‘Well…what have we click click here?” it rasps, voice disoriented and deep, clicking, sounding at the back of its dry throat, reminding you of the sounds the velociraptors in Jurassic world made.

You raise the gun, pointing it right between where the eyes would be on a normal person. Sam reaches out behind him, just checking to see if you’re behind him still, making sure you’re still safe.

“awww. such a cute hunter couple.” it snarls, dropping from the ceiling. its bones crack as it moves, body bending backwards as it stalks towards you.

suddenly it pauses. “you don't see that often, anymore.” it mumbles to itself, one grotesque finger drawing a line connecting the two of you, and the next thing you know, you're thrown together against the wall as it stalks closer.

���fuck.” sam groans as his back hits the wall, and you let out a hiss of pain, tied to his chest as you flail around, trying to move.

something invisible is pinning you in place. you're embarrassed to say that even in such a dangerous position, your heart is thumping aggressively in your chest, practically bursting out.

the thing is drawing close, and it's enough to get you to snap out of your reverie, and you remember that it's neither the time nor the place for this.

“Hmm. soulmates? So rare. You both can’t be human then.” it grumbles, its finger bending back with an unnatural crack.

‘What the fuck.’ you’re thinking as you both are struggling. Using your powers, you send a blast, making the thing fall back, scuttling its old bones as it regains its stance, prowling towards you.

In the time that it loses its balance, you and sam find yours. He pulls you up to his feet quickly, retrieving both of your guns as he points it at the thing, his other hand behind him, ensuring that you’re behind him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the end, you end up taking it out, sending it back to a demon dimension, and dragging your sorry asses back to your hotel rooms, where dean, is lying comfortably on the bed, with a beer in his hand.

You glare at him, beaten up and bloody, cuts all over your face from falling face first into a window. You’ve healed all the serious injuries, but don’t have enough energy to do the rest.

“I take it went well?” dean asks smugly, stretching out his limbs as if he’s done anything remotely productive. (spoiler alert. He hasn’t. He’s just gotten back from the bar)

“She was an elder-being. Thanks for the warning, dean.” sam growls, eyebrows furrowed as he hobbles over to lie on the bed.

“Hey! Don’t get the bedsheets bloody, we’ll be charged more.” you say, hitting him lightly, wincing when you hear him let out a hiss of pain.

“Shit.” sam whimpers, holding his arm, slightly above the slash in his arm. It’s not bleeding heavily anymore, but you bet it’s painful as hell, especially with those long ass nails raking at him.

“I’m sorry!! I didn’t mean to. Wait, I'll help patch you up. ” you tell him pushing him down so he sits on the edge of his bed in dean and his’ room.

Dean lets out a grunt as he jumps to his feet, already having enough of whatever flirting will happen soon.

“Right, i’m heading down to the bar, gonna check out the ladies.” he says, striding over to the door.

“Weren’t you just at the bar?” you ask him with a raised brow.

“Yeah, but they’re probably already missing me.” he responds, winking at ya. You can hear sam groaning slightly from the pain, turning your eyes away from dean to watch sam, you hear the door click closed behind you

You roll your eyes, pulling out the medical kit to pay attention to how injured sam might be.

“That was really stupid of you, moose. Jumping out a window?” you chastise him, a worried furrow in your brows as you pull out the necessary ointments.

Sam stares at you, his fingers itching at his side, wanting to smooth out the furrow in your brows. He thinks about what the demon thing said, and wants to talk about it, but he wants you to be comfortable first.

“Are you injured anywhere?” he asks, his hand reaching up and doing what he wants. His touch is gentle and soft, and even as he smooths the furrow out of your brow, his thumb lingers, before he pulls back. You miss his touch instantly, skin tingling where his thumb rested.

“Just a couple of scratches. Nothing as serious as your arm.” you respond, grimacing slightly as you really look at his cut.

“Yeah, but i’m still worried about you.” he responds, frowning.

“Don’t. Be more worried about yourself, since you’re the one in pain right now.” you chastise him, trying to pull the edges of his shirt away from the cut, letting out a sigh when he

“You gotta take off your overshirt, sam. I don’t wanna have the fabric sticking to the cut, or infecting it.” you tell him, stepping back while you wait for him to do as you ask.

He winces as he pulls it over his head, his white undershirt stained from the blood only on one side.

“You see? And you’re still telling me that you’re worried about me.” you say, pointing to the cut.

As you end up cleaning it up first, you’re in a comfortable silence. You keep thinking about the eldritch woman, and what she said about a soulmate bond. It would make a lot of sense, how for all this time, you’ve always been drawn to him.

Not just physically, but what seems to be mentally too, you notice all of his quirks, his hobbies, his preferences, and what he would deem his faults. They’re not faults to you, they’re just him, and you love him.

Unknown to you, he’s thinking the same. Maybe not to the same extent of what you're thinking, but to a similar extent. He’s curious about what happened, and he wants to know more, to know if you feel the same pull he does.

You end up stitching the rest of his cut up, and when you’re done, you collapse onto the bed in exhaustion. Letting out a deep, tired sigh, you throw your arm over your eyes, blocking out the light.

Sam’s still sitting on the edge of his bed, but he’s turned to stare at you. He watches the way your chest rises and falls with each breath you take, and even with the sound of music drifting into the room from the bar downstairs, he can hear the little puffs of air you let out.

He calls your name, and you shift your arm upwards, resting against your forehead as you stare down at him.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“..what do you think she meant about the soulmate bond?” sam asks. He’s probably the most nervous he’s ever been right now, but it’s a kind of nervousness that is elating, making his heart race in his chest.

You blink at him, just assuming that that was just going to be something else swept under the carpet of your friendship if you didn’t bring it up. Like lingering stares, touches that are wayyyy too long to just be friendly, and the way he’s just too fine tuned into you.

“Uh. Maybe what it quite literally means?” You finish, trying not to show just exactly how terrified you are right now, since this is a topic you thought you’d never talk about. Like how dean really really needs a love life, not just one night stands.

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes, and he feels slightly less stressed about bringing this topic up now, since you sound to him as if you’ve been thinking about it too.

You really want to talk about it, but you really don’t want to sound too desperate.

“You know that’s not what I mean, y/n.” he tells you, shifting so that his legs are no longer hanging off the edge of the bed, and he’s looking right at you. His arm is tender, and the little movement is enough to make him wince.

Sitting up to look at him properly, you sigh. You don’t know what to say, really.

“Do you feel it?” he asks, shyly. “The soulmate bond?” He thinks of all the times he’s even thought that you might have reciprocate his feelings, and he thinks he has a solid chance right now.

You don’t think you’re gonna get rejected, but it’s still slightly unnerving to bring something as serious as this up, because if it doesn’t work out, your entire dynamic will be destroyed, and you will not only lose the love of your life, but your best friend, and in the process, you could lose dean, too.

“Yeah. i just didn’t know what it was before.” you tell him, scratching the back of your neck nervously, wincing when you scratch at a injury you didn’t notice before.

Sam lightens up obviously, the physical embodiment of puppy eyes. He looks at you now, and he laughs.

“What?” you ask him, slightly nervous.

“I feel it too, you know?” he tells you. “I felt it that day in the woods, i felt it when you left my side for even a moment, I felt it when we were together. I just thought it was some kind of overattachment to you.”

This makes you laugh, and he pulls you closer by your arm.

“I felt it in the woods, that day when I thought you were a moose, I felt it when I sat in the passenger seat of baby, I felt it when you were injured in the hospital.” you respond, thinking of all the times where the bond vexed you, and made you happy.

Sam stares down at you, pulling you into his side properly. You’re tucked into under his arm as he presses a chaste kiss to the tips of your fingers, to the palm of your hand, your forearm, as he slowly makes his way up to your face.

In between each kiss, he whispers out to you; “I've felt you everywhere in my life since the first day I met you. In my head, my lungs, in my space. You are the air I breathe, and without you, I'm scared I’ll die.”

he pauses when he reaches your jaw, pausing, giving you time to push him away if you don’t want this.

“yeah? “ you respond smugly, gloating now that you’re aware of just how much you affect him. You’re breathless, waiting for the kiss that you feel you’ve been missing your entire life.

This is the only moment that matters, the part where you finally come together. With that, he kisses you. The kiss is sweet and soft, a promise of more to come.

He pulls back, forehead resting against yours and your breaths mingle together, but it isn’t enough. You need more for all the times you’ve been afraid he’s hurt or worse, dead.

You pull him closer by the collar of his undershirt, and kiss him. You kiss him like crazy, and he reciprocates, kissing you harder. This kiss is everything you’ve lost, come back to you.

When you finally pull apart, you’re giggling, and he chuckles, pressing another chaste kiss to your forehead, whispering how much he loves you.

You fall asleep entangled together, ankles crossed over his as he rests his arm over your waist, your head tucked between his neck and his shoulder.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean comes back from the bar, switching on the light of the room, and he quite literally does a double take when he sees the two of you entangled together, even in sleep.

He does everything in his power not to wake you up with screams of “i knew it” and “it’s about damn time”. He’s happy to see his brother so content, even in sleep, there’s a smile on sam’s face.

Dean pulls out his phone, sending a quick text to mrs l/n; who’s number he got to stay in touch with updates of his father.

‘You owe me ten bucks.’ he types out.

The screen lights up with a response from mrs l/n.

‘What!? Already? I thought it would be later.’ is the reply, and he laughs at that.

[delusionalalien]

[Embrace You, Devour You] [Chapter 7] YANDERE!Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader x YANDERE!Variant!Invincibles

I HAVE WAY TOO MANY DRAFTS AND MISTAKES THAT I HAVE DONE WHILE MAKING THIS!!!! I accidentally published this TWICE, the app on my phone does not like me, no cap, it said 'save as draft' and the next thing i see is someone liking this shit when its only half way finish💀💀

Anyway, garbage as usual lmao. No Mark btw, you guys can skip this.

NOTE : I do NOT speak Russian, and I used google translate for the Russian bits, i'm so sorry for any Russian people reading this hot garbage of a fanfic.

prologue

previous chapter , ???

T.W / Tags: Slow-burn, Soft yandere, pining, mark is bat shit crazy but he good dw, baby-trapping, teen pregnancy, yandere variants, mark a lil pushy, breeding kink, jealous Mark Grayson, talks of abortion, misunderstandings, possessive Mark Grayson, murder, gore, child-murder(variant!readers), attempted suicide, murder-suicide(variant!readers), OOC, yandere!mom, prob need more tags

Weird ass dreams and you actually have family lore???

You felt the urge to mourn.

You had no recollections of what happened before you came here. All you knew this wasn't the earth you know, nature took over the planet, the sky a deep orange and a strange massive oak tree standing at the middle of it all.

a glowing green power shined inside it's body, dormant, angry, and isolated. Betrayed and stabbed by an axe which left imprints at the base, a scar, a reminder of what it went through.

There was an urge to comfort the alien plant, perhaps it was simply your mind playing tricks on you. There was no way a tree could feel human emotions.

You feel cold as you walk around it. You need to find home, but where is home exactly? This wasn't the earth you know of and you have no clue who or what brought you here in the first place.

You followed the roots of the first tree that protruded from the ground to another clearing where yet another oak tree stands, this time, normal for its height.

The last tree had vibrant colors, this one was dull in comparison to that green shine. You stopped for a brief moment to take in the sight before you.

Despite it's normal appearance and dull color, you can't help but touch the base of the tree and you flinched, stepping back when the shine swirled unnaturally when you touched it.

It seemed friendly, whatever these are they are definitely sentient to some degree.

You made distance with the oak, it didn't feel right to feel scared but you moved on your own feet, reminding yourself that you have to find a way back home and that sticking to one location is never a good idea- at least according to your mother's questionable survival guide she had passed down to you.

You pondered what your parents are doing, they probably filed a missing persons report on you and since you don't quite know how long you've been gone, you only hope its only been a day, and you started praying you weren't kidnapped by actual aliens from another planet.

Your train of thoughts also lingered further as you walk mindlessly through the dense forest. You think of Mark and how he was doing. You wished you cleared up the misunderstanding's about Todd before you came here, how you should have been honest with yourself and confessed.

Still, fear holds you back, you fear change, you are terrified of changing what you both have now. Knowing one day he's going to find someone and he looks at them like how you look at him all your life.

Mark is a friend, you know that, and you delude yourself that you're okay with just being friends, the next door childhood friend that will one day also find someone to love- someone who isn't Mark.

It repulsed you. The idea of someone else in your lives when you love him too much to give him away. Call it an obsession but you'd rather fight for the both of you to stay single for the rest of your life.

You tripped and fell on the grass when your foot caught itself on a stone, you hadn't realized you started crying in the middle of your crisis.

Stupid feelings.

Stupid lies.

Stupid you.

Why of all people has it have to be Mark?

Why does it feel like the world would tear itself apart when you aren't with him?

Why him?

Because he's Mark Grayson.

You're first love and possibly your last. The dork next door that would listen to you rant or ramble in the middle of the night with all the attention on you, the boy who would catch a lizard for you in recess just because you called them cool despite how scared he was touching one, the boy next door who shows up and glues himself on you with every chance he gets and spends most of your summers locked in your room dozing off or playing video games.

That was Mark Grayson, and to him?

You are nothing but a best friend. His ride or die, the girl next door who listens to him ramble about the new release of seance dog, the one who would put him in stupid situations, the girl who has a questionable love interest on Todd.

And who are you to make you change his mind?

You made your bed along ago, you just refused to lie still in it.

You leaned yourself onto a tree, small, insecure, but you felt the most safe within it's small dome, its little sanctuary in the middle of nowhere. It took you a minute to calm down and realized you hadn't gone that far at all from the second oak tree and from the distance you can still see the first tree towering above the head of the rest of the planets in this world.

The smaller oak you leaned to was still growing to maturity, the seconds tree's roots intertwined with the smaller one just like the first one did.

There was no green shine in its body not even a minuscule of it, just a normal tree with a parent tree root embracing its child.

You sat down and scoots further on the small tree where you feel safe. Where you can drown yourself in your own emotions without the feeling of being judged.

You want Mark to be here,

You want your mom to be here,

You want to hear your dad,

You want to hear Debbie giggle,

You want to see Nolan give you his best awkward comfort smiles,

You miss William and his loud comments,

You miss everyone back home, they're probably all worried sick about you,

How do you even go back home?

When did you fall asleep?

Soft fingers strokes your face, it wiped the salted tears away and she whispered soothing words into your ears, Russian was a language your mother didn't bother teaching you, as to why you don't know yourself, this woman is unmistakably speaking Russian to you, whispering soft words of encouragement.

"Вы должны проснуться!"

"Не заканчивай здесь свою жизнь!"

"Приди ко мне, дитя мое!"

"Вот и всё, иди сюда, дорогая."

Why was half your body inside the tree?

She held your hands and pry's you away from the plant in desperation, gathering her strength and she held you close when you are thrown out of the tree's hollow inside. You breathe heavily and watched the tree you we're resting on shamefully closed, the imprint of your body fading slowly as if it understood its irrational behavior of consuming you was wrong and selfish.

You could have died back there, and yet a stranger saved you.

"T-thank you saving me..."

She was massive, not as near as the same physique as your mother, but she was almost the same build. She has sharp features like your mother however, almost creepily identical and you flinched when she furrows her brows in anger.

"О чем ты думал! У тебя есть желание умереть? Что тебя так беспокоит, что ты хочешь покончить с собой?"

"I, I'm sorry? Miss i don't understand what you're saying."

There was a long pause before she sighed, her shoulders slump in defeat, you watch her stand up and motion for you to follow, despite everything, something tells you to obey without further questions. Perhaps because she was human in a nonhuman world, your instincts screams to survive.

You walked behind her, glancing back at the tree that almost consumed you and shuddered. You could have died, you got too comfortable and ended up almost giving up your life and the oddest thing is, you don't even hold any sort of resentment towards it.

Your body slams to a stop when the mystery woman stood still, she points towards a hole on the ground, her face unreadable but serious in the way she spoke.

"Home."

Home? You step a little closer to the hole, it was an endless abyss down there and you're beginning to doubt that she was even here to help you, looking back at the woman, she crossed her arms and waits for you to jump in.

"I'm sorry but this doesn't look safe."

Maybe she speaks and understand minimal English that would explain how she seems to understand you to a certain level. She shakes her head and comes up to you just to jab her finger right where you're heart is.

"Return."

"Return?" You repeat and she nods.

"Return, home." She points back at the hole once more then at you.

"Sorry, I don't understand how this hole is going to bring me back to earth."

A frustrated huff left her lips, she chew the inside of her cheeks thinking, finding words she could convince you to jump, and you wait for her to speak, the more the silence grew the more you think you have to be on your own to find your way back home.

A spaceship would be great about now.

"You, soul, home, body, return."

"wh-"

You didn't even get to ask before she actually shoved you. You flail your arms around trying to catch anything to stop your fall, screaming as the orange sky began to disappear and the silhouette of your murderer fades.

Fuck your life.

-

You jolt from slumber. Mouth opened to scream but no noise did come out. What the hell did you dream about? You're then hit with a throbbing sensation in every part of your body.

Everything hurts. The pain you feel was like being struck by a truck going pass the speed limit down the road to end you, the mattress felt thin and stiff making you squirm and groan once your entire senses came back at full force.

You can make out the faint smell medicine wavering in the air, the bed would creaked on occasion if you shifted, your face was numbed with something clings onto your cheeks like sticker, your arms are no better, needles inserted in your veins and supplying you whatever nutrients you needed..

You felt dizzy when you sat up, and you're careful not to accidentally push the needle to where it shouldn't be. You felt nauseous and scared.

How long have you been out? What happened? Why are you in the hospital with these bandages wrapped around you?

Like a second truck coming out of nowhere to finish the job, you're hit with the last memories before you went unconscious out, you were alone underneath the bench and in the mercy of your own company, begging death not to take you, recalling Rebecca and her goons walk away from your body submerged in your own vomit, the way they laughed and tortured you.

You cried. Sobbing in your bruised hands as you let it all out. The agony they made you feel, how you felt pathetic and small while in their mercy as you took on their assault, blow after blow begging and crying out for help and mercy.

You hear the door open, you didn't stop your tears, nor try to shame the emotions you felt before your father went inside.

He froze on that doorway, his eyes red and tired. You felt bad for everyone, the pain they must have gone through just to wait for you to wake up, to know what happened.

It wasn't long before Nicolas held you in his arms, holding your head against his chest as he feel you tremble in his arms, crying to him, for your mother to hold you, to surround you in their presence, and Nicolas hushes you and kissing your head in comfort.

"I'm here,"

"You're safe, nothing is going to harm you now,"

"Let it all out, (Name)."

You drowned in his comfort, his smell, his voice, the way he sooth you in a tight embrace. You believe him, you survived in what you felt was death guiding you to the afterlife, surviving what felt like an eternity of torture, and he lets you cry, again and again.

Because you're his little girl.

And nothing will ever change that.

Not in a hundred years, not even millions.

So Nicolas didn't speak, he didn't stop you from crying, acknowledging what you went through, understanding his grounds as a father.

And for you it was enough.

-

Note: when i got bullied my dad just stared at me from across the room. All my crying must have went to his head because he told me to shut up and do the chores (he also threw a notebook at me)💀💀💀💀💀💀 GOD GIVE ME A DAD LIKE NICOLAS!!1!11! #copium #developeddaddyissueswithme

[brainr0t-landfill]

T

Chapter One: You get baptized.

Captain Price x male reader

(T.W: forcemasc fetish, kidnapping, forced headshave, reader is currently girlmoding, implied stalking, implied cheating)

The road to your new home is long and wet John is stiff in his seat as the cold lights of the bumfuck, misreable town you called home for years bleed across the dark car he wonder if you can see them if you're still awake, rain splashes against his front window.

Wrongness gnaws at something burried deep in his chest even though it's been hours since your struggle has died down; your desperate pleas and pathetic threats muffled by an old rag and held in place by duct tape, all the frantic energy in your soft body weighed down by exhaustion, he feels bad for you so confused and lost but he knows he's doing what's right like his old man always told him.

"No one finds their true love, son."

He'd tell him sitting on his old throne shallow, warm glass of whiskey in hand.

"You make it, wives like your mother are for husbands like me. I didn't find her on the side of the road as she is today, made her i did."

The contradiction is that Senior Price was more shaped by his wife than his wife by him John's mother with her dishwasher white knuckles and red stained lips, an ex whore, a cols blooded creature in a warm home trying to make her claws into wings.

The contradiction is that John never wanted a woman like his mother, never wanted a woman at all.

On the edge of town he stops the truck, turns the engine off and steps outside walks through the murky mud puddles to the trunk pops it and beholds you, curled into yourself with eyes like a desperate dog you thin wrists held together by zip ties, knobby knees knocking against eachother.

He kneels infornt of you on one knee like a crude mockery.

"I know you're confused."

He tells you rubbing across your ribs,

"But in due time you'll get it luv, I'll be so good for ya, never gonna want for nothing y'hear?"

He gives you his best smile but you don't respond he shushes the sniffles with a heavy hand grabbing you by your scruff and dragging you out, you don't struggle at all and he gently rips the tape off it leaves red lines across your pretty, soft cheeks and pink lips glossy with spit.

"Please, please I won't tell anyone I need to go home please please-"

He stands there as you kneel on the ground big paw rubbing at your sore jaw as you work yourself into tears and sobs begging for things you don't want, he sees your eyes stuck where the sun is setting on the other side of the road desire peeking out like teeth.

"Shhh, shhh it's alright now, it's alright"

He tells you as he rubs his hands across your beautiful locks, such a shame

"I'm not gonna hurt ya luv, no, no not at all. But you need to trust me, alright?"

He looks down at you and clicks his tounge in dissapointment but of course, men are proud animals they play best when they think they'll win, they grasp at any chance to prove their loving masters wrong.

"Looky here, let's make a deal, yeah?"

He takes a deep breath and plays a gamble, rolls the dice knowing he holds every card.

"A year, ya stay with me a year, listen, and be good and if by the end of that year ya still wanna go back home, I'll let ya. Hell I'll even drive ya, drop ya off at the door. But untill than you play by my rules, yeah luv?"

He asks and rubs his calloused hand over your cheek watches the war raging behind those eyes.

"O-okay."

You croak out and your trembling seizes as you steel your shoulders.

"Okay, y-you've got a deal, just please don't hurt me."

He pats your head and takes the clippers out, drags you to the gutter, walk you on your knees deep into the filthy water, stains your pretty, modest white skirt not that you'll have much use of it anymore.

You start screaming again struggling like a feral dog, he thinks of what name to give you, dogs get new names after all to know what they should answer to your old one never fit you anyways.

"What are you doing-? What are you-"

He starts it up and runs it across your scalp, your soft hair falling into the water and your sweat stained blouse as be buzzes it all off, there will be better cuts in the feature; neat crew cuts like his in barber shops before your wedding and once every month, routine trims and beard oil.

"Oh don't pretend you don't know luv, look at you! Even with ya short height everybody can tell, ya make such an unconvincing girl, sweets but that's alright. Everybody strays sometimes, not ya fault ya never had anyone to guide ya right, ya just trust me, alright? Ya just trust me."

He burries your face in his crotch to muffle your noises as he shaves your head feels you go limp with shame.

He pities you, he doesn't know what it's like to be seen after a life spent hiding, to be in the light after two decades of chasing it.He strips you off your skirt and blouse there, pockets your jewelry and wedding band takes out your I.D and taps your picture there.

"Ya recognize her?"

Your lips twitch, mishapen face scrunched up in shame.

"No, ya don't, ya never did..."

He thinks for a second, what to name you, who to make you, how to love you.

"Tommy, Tom Price, ya recognize that?"

You nod and he brushes the hair off your scalp as he leads you back to the car, lays you in the back seat to stew, throws his uniform jacket over you.

"Wait-"

He looks down, at you half hidden under the jacket, pulls it further, tucks you in to hide a body that's of the past.

"Yes luv?"

"What's you name?"

He smiles and huffs out a laugh that's been brewing for weeks, weeks and weeks of watching you, feeling your yearning eyes burn kisses on his skin.

"Jonathan, Jonathan Price, ya can call me sir."

[glxtcher]

Collar

T.W.:GORE,YANDERE BEHAVIOR ETC

Ayame

collar ♡︎what's the worst thing you would do for your darling?

You know one of Ayame’s hobbies is taxidermy and when I tell you she’s not afraid to use her skills and turn any person that has wronged y/n into a grotesque and stuffed statue💀 ,she might even livestream it on the dark web. Her family underground connections could easily help her erase this person’s entire existence so it won’t be too suspicious.She might keep some parts like bones or teeth as decoration in her bedroom or make it as a trinket and gift it to y/n,they would unknowingly wear a dead person teeth necklace thinking that’s fake .

Tsubaki

collar ♡︎what's the worst thing you would do for your darling?

Tsubaki would use his social media influence to tarnish this person’s reputation ,he would blackmail this person first so that they can distance themselves from y/n,he absolutely believes that they don’t deserve y/n’s attention. If they still don’t budge he would spread false accusations or career-ruining rumors,and if that still doesn’t work he would also use his family connections and make them kidnap this person and make a designer handbag of their skin.Mind you the blackmailing part is if he feels gracious enough 💀

Thank you so much for the ask,keep them coming<3 !

Yandere ask game by @cardiac-arresting-sweetheart

[humanconditionpoetry]

Gaara - From Naurto Birthday Poem!

Hello everyone, Gaara Birthday was recent and what better way to celebrate one of my favorite characters besides a birthday poem!

Please like and reblog if you like this poem! Also I do apologize if I have not been as active or on schedule as I was not feeling well due to a variety of reasons.

Thanks for understanding and now…

T.W/Tags - This Poem deals with tragic birth, body horror, torture, war, death and suicide. You have been warned!

Loving Sand:

A monster stuffed inside a boy

Neither of them was consented…

Premature birth.

A life lost…

The child survived with a monster inside that brought ruin and rot.

Deemed as a weapon…

His peers and family are to neglect him.

Only one, his uncle - the mother’s brother cared

Till one day, his father ordered an assassination of his son…

Through the only one that cared was like his Sun.

But the sand protected him from any physical injuries…

Through the way of the heart, there is no protection from its accessories.

When he found out who tried to kill him.

The beast was unleashed, when the words said…

“ [I hated you for killing my sister and my sister named you after] self-loving carnage…[nobody ever loved you]”.

Suicide, a thousand bombs.

In a fit of grief and rage, he become a full monster, -

The one tails.

Hated filled him and love became a corpse.

Only love to myself, the narcissist that was smoked.

Later on, many years later…

The psychopathy only grew.

Cold and distant, not even his siblings could reminisce with him or knew.

Used as a weapons, purposed as a weapon.

Now, it was time to use and invade…

A countries test was well-underway.

But mishaps occurred…

Hurt and Pain.

Lost of control of whatever was gained.

Only one kid…

Just like him…

Could see the dark from within…

Reached out.

Puts his conflict and mind amend.

Worked on himself…

Through the beast reside…

His hated had become love ever-shine!

Leader of his people and won their trust and cries.

Short-lived…

Kidnapped by men, who do terror for a goal in wrathful mist.

Took the monster out of him…

He was left for dead.

Things have changed…

An old lady came and gave her life, an honorable and redeeming exchange.

Later on, the Fourth Ninja war was at hand…

At long last, after many years…

Seeing the monsters who hunted him before…

Through still slightly bitter…

Saw each other as whole.

Sentient and Named.

Shukaku, the one tail.

When the war was done…

They joined forces together as one.

What stated out as alien and hate, was now a familiar and love make.

And he found out, his mother always had his back and the soul was found in the sand.

Happy Birthday Gaara!

[gabstriessomethingnew]

Masterlist:

These are my current up-to-date fics as of right now. Probably won't always be up-to-date cause I don't know what I'm doing, so go to my a03 for the most recent stuff. Imma warn everyone most of these are Merwaine as god intended.

Link to all my headcanons

Link to all my fic ideas

Taste of Mothers 

"For the first time in a while, this morning was anything but quiet." i.e Hunith finds out about a certain relationship. And basically becomes the only parent to all of Camelot. You don't need to read the entirety of the series before this, but I would at least recommend the Arthur chapter, otherwise you might be confused.

Gwaine/Merlin Minor Gwen/Lancelot/Arthur

G | 4,217 | Attempts at humor

A New Purpose

T.W Passive Suicidal Ideation The tears had dried. Still staining Merlin’s lovely face, framing it in pain and agony, but no longer creating rivers with their treacherous path. Not for a lack of trying, but for a lack of energy. Clear as day in the empty look in his eyes, the sniffles still persisting on each breath. Written for Day 2 of Mercelot Week 2025, for the prompt “do you not get it? we don't ever get a happy ending, we don't ever go home!” + hurt/comfort

Lancelot/Merlin

M | 1,728 | Angst

What you must think of me

The thing was, Merlin didn’t mean for it to happen this way. Sure, it had been a conscious decision on his part, he had actually rolled it over in his head for hours to make sure he was truly doing the right thing, but he didn’t mean for it to be like this. Written for Day 1 of Mercelot Week 2025, for the prompt “it took you almost 4 years to fully trust me, and it took you all of one minute to stop.”

Lancelot/Merlin

T | 2,177 | Hurt Merlin

What you’d do

“Oh” The servant said as if he were completely unbothered by the noise that had spooked the rest of them, all of them grabbing at their weapons. “That would be for me” There was a sly grin growing over his features. “It’s best if you don’t fight it” he glanced at all of them. “They can be so very protective” i.e Merlin kidnaps himself (basically) so he can talk about Lancelot

Lancelot/Merlin

G | 1,551 | Outside POV

Gwaine’s dog named Dog

And how he caused Merlin and Gwaine to meet!

Gwaine/Merlin

G | 1,417 | Modern era (Hot mess Gwaine simping over Merlin)

Drops of Gold

If Merlin were to be honest with himself, a thing he so rarely allowed, he would have not been surprised by it in the slightest. But lies were hard to break, especially when told to yourself over and over again. They have a way of infecting the mind, pointing it further away from reality with every whispered statement.

Gen

T | 1,164 | God Merlin

A beast about to be shot

The sound of boots on stone filled the air. Harsh and angry, which fit the mood just fine. The chill yet to leave his body despite the days of travel back to a warmer climate. Their hearth was full of reds and oranges as the fire blazed and yet Merlin sat cold and empty. Gwaine was upset, of course he was. i.e the author trying to make sense of Merlin's actions in Arthur's bane with a merwaine lense

Gwaine/Merlin

T | 1719 | Emotional Hurt/Comfort

You Jump, I Jump

TW: Suicide A chain-link fence bit into his elbows. Someone had erected it. Probably a long time ago, if the rust coloring it orange were an indication. Most likely not structurally sound enough to hold his weight. But still here he was, trusting it with it. Far too close to the edge, too. And certainly not tall enough, easy enough to hop over. Before safety regulations were imposed, then. Still, someone had put it up, someone had tried to stop the action he was about to take. He wondered if they still would have put in the effort if they knew who they were stopping. What monster they were attempting to keep back. i.e Gwaine flirts Merlin off the edge

Gwaine/Merlin

M | 2357 | Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Bastard is a bad word

Gwaine noticed. Of course, he did. It was quite obvious even with the missing context around the why. Though it had taken him longer than he would have liked to admit. i.e Gwaine takes note of Merlin and reveals a few things to the group. This summary is far too vague, but I can’t think of a better one at the moment

Gen or Gwaine/Merlin (Only if you want to read into it like I do)

T | 1,218 | Fluffy (Kinda?)

I've got you

After six days of being locked up, he could feel it bubbling trying to find an escape but there was nowhere to go. No outlet. It felt like he was being held under. Not able to take a breath. Like his legs were trapped in seaweed and his body was itchy with salt water. And it wasn’t even the worst part. ie babies first a/b/o story ((Pls mind the tags))

Knights of the Round Table/Merlin/Arthur (As in one big polycule), Gwen/Morgana

E | WIP (152,392 words so far) | Omegaverse

Ooof

”I remember following you. You said you had something for the hangover I was going to have” Something clicked in Merlin’s head, “Oh bugger” Arthur was glaring at him now. “Merlin, what did you do?” I.e Golden age Arthur and Merlin travel back in time hungover and have to figure out how to get back.

Gwaine/Merlin, Gwen/Lancelot/Arthur

T | WIP (40,794 words so far) | Time Travel

Arthur and the Round Table

All the boys are in a rock band that has lost its sound. That is until they find out that Merlin is a brilliant piano player. But with Merlin's stage fright to overcome and Gwaine's budding feelings will they be able to keep the band together?

Gwaine/Merlin

T | WIP (15,986 words so far) | Modern Era Rock band

I want to be numb

TW Drug addiction, self-harm, depression It had started innocently enough. A long night leading Merlin to look for a way to stay up just that little bit longer, so he could keep Camelot safe against the attack he knew was coming.

Gen

M | 2,249 | Angst

Tastes of Idiocy

Something was happening. Something was wrong. Gwaine was acting weird. i.e Merlin not knowing he's in a relationship and oppsie accidentally revealing his magic to Gwaine as he goes A prequel to my Taste of Apples fic, which is not required reading to enjoy the rest of this!!!!

Gwaine/Merlin

T | 2,860 | Idiots in love

Taste of Apples

Leon would like it recorded that he is not a snoop. He doesn't enjoy poking around in other people's business. It's just that being head knight comes with lots of responsibilities and that includes making sure that the other knights stay in line. So when he watches the worst prankster of the group of ragtag knights try to slyly sneak out of the castle he does the only thing he can think to do, follow. i.e Leon stumbles across a secret he wasn't expecting. Not the one you're thinking of New and improved with a Percival chapter Oops now I added a Lancelot chapter. Let's see how long it takes me to rewrite the summary And I opp Guess you get Elyan now too. I really need to rewrite this summary but I added Gwen!! Arthur's here now too. I've decided to leave the summary as it is.

Gwaine/Merlin, hints of Gwen/Lancelot/Arthur

T | 8,416 | Fluff with a touch of Angst

Hairy Situations

“Elyan swatted away Gwaine’s sword with his own. They had been at it for a while now and neither one had gained any ground but that also meant that neither had they lost any.” Training goes slightly wrong before Merlin saves the day.

Gwaine/Merlin (I mean you could see it as Gen but why would you)

T | 784 | Fluff

We Listen and We Don't Judge

Just as quickly as it entered the suspicious look on his face was fleeing away and his features were smoothing out into an all-knowing look Gwaine had gotten very accustomed to seeing over the years except now it was too flat, too trusting, too young. "Oh, I see what this is." Gwaine was glad someone did because he had no clue what was going on. "Will put you up to this didn't he" i.e Merlin getting de aged to his teenage years before he came to Camelot.

Gwaine/Merlin, Gwen/Lancelot/Arthur

T | 2,247 | De-Aged Merlin

Did you know?

"The doors burst open and three sweaty knights trampled in. Merlin recognized them as some of Uther's knights, Brunor, Tor, and Hector. They all doubled over completely out of breath. Everyone paused, going quiet, and all eyes went to the three. Eventually, Brunor caught his breath enough to start speaking "Sire... There's... There's a..." Before he could finish Hector the youngest of the group yelled "Dragon!"" i.e Athusia gets spotted by a bunch of knights leading to a few truths even Merlin didn't know.

Gwaine/Merlin, Gwen/Arthur

NR | 42,569 | Dragonlord Merlin

That by Any Other Name

See Merlin was his rose.

Lancelot/Merlin

G | 794 | Angst and Tragedy

Forgot the sun

“Tell me about Freya” i.e a lot of crying and Gwaine getting to hug Merlin

Gwaine/Merlin, Past Freya/Merlin

G | 1,453 | Emotional Hurt/Comfort

I love you like that, I'm a reckless driver

See, Merlin was the type of person who would twist a pop bottle cap open slowly, letting the gas escape without causing a huge mess. And well Gwaine was the type of person to rip the bottle open and be surprised that he got wet. i.e Gwaine simping and Merlin flirting

Gwaine/Merlin

T | 1,664 | Modern Era

Thin Lines

Maybe all those poets were right. There truly was a thin line between love and hate.

Gwaine/Merlin

G | 1,168 | Hurt/No Comfort

I'm not afraid to die

"You would think being slammed up against a wall by Merlin's magic would be the strangest part of Lancelot's day. You would be very wrong." i.e Lancelot convincing Merlin not to kill everyone

Lancelot/Merlin

G | 1,097 | Everyone returns

Don't look at the lights

“The scream when they slapped the cold iron on his wrists still echoed in Gwaine's ears. Then everything had gone sideways. They weren’t helpless without Merlin, not anymore, but it should be pointed out that Merlin was the best at taking on magical threats. The knights tried their best but with Merlin falling to whatever spell they placed on him it didn't take long for the rest to start dropping like flies.” i.e a captured fic but make it worse

Gen

M | 9,955 | Whump

What if we just stopped?

“In Albion’s greatest time of need he shall rise again” Well what if that time came again and again? And what if this time he didn’t rise alone?

Gwen/Arthur

T | 1,775 | Everyone returns

Why are you like this?

So when the tavern brawl breaks out, he shouldn't have been surprised that he could see plates flying without being touched. He just sighed to himself and hoped in the chaos nobody else noticed. He saw their new acquaintance talk to Merlin at the bar while Arthur fought off three burley men at once. He turned away for one second to punch one chap square in the nose before looking back just in time to see a slight blush paint his manservant's cheeks. ie the episode Gwaine if Arthur knew about Merlin's magic and make it merwaine because I love them ieie the episode Gwaine if BBC weren't cowards

Gwaine/Merlin, Gwen/Arthur

T | 7,361 | Modeled after the episode Gwaine

The signs written in flesh

TW for cutting, past suicide attempts, suicidal ideology, and depression. He raises his bleeding arm to try to stop the attack, but it never comes. Instead, his blood runs cold as he takes in the very mad-looking knight in front of him. Shit. ”Just what do you think you're doing” his voice was coming through his clenched teeth barely above a whisper his hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides. ”Gwaine I…I can explain” i.e. Merlin takes his failures out on his skin. Gwaine notices.

Gen (Could be Gwaine/Merlin)

M | 1,966 | Hurt Merlin

Flying High

The sensation of skin on skin was mesmerizing. The feeling of Gwaine's mouth was enchanting as he opened his lips to deepen the kiss. Gwaine's hair falling on his face was spellbinding and the scrape of his beard on his chin was totally fascinating.

Gwaine/Merlin

M | 369 | This one's just horny

The devil you forgot

"Arthur took one look at that unmerlin like grin and knew something was wrong. Before he could as much as stand up Merlin's eyes shifted to gold and the floor cracked. That awful grin extended as vines erupted out of the new Earth. " i.e. Merlin gets possessed. It goes as well as expected.

Gen

T | 11,437 | Hurt/Comfort

Smartest Idiot

Leon was just so done. He probably should have just let the conversation fizzle out but he had drank enough to loosen his lips. "Merlin is simultaneously the smartest man here and the dumbest."

Gen

G | 597 | Crack?

Demonstrate that fear is my ideal

Gwaine's fascination was heightened when Merlin took two knives from his loose grasp and walked back over to the target, sticking them in high enough he had to stretch to push them in. A little to the right and left of center and much higher than they needed to go. Before he could question him, Merlin was turning. “Care to make it more interesting?” I.e Gwaine throws knifes at Merlin in a fun way

Gwaine/Merlin

G | 1,168 | Song fic

I've never known someone like you

Inspired by 'Lord Gwaine of the Manor" "Now that Gwaine was looking at him he looked tired. Scratch that he looked exhausted. Pale and smaller than the last time Gwaine had seen him. He had dark circles bruising under his eyes and the eyes themselves looked much older. "What do you need his help with anyway?" Arthur looked behind him to Leon. Obviously debilitating how much he was willing to give away. When he turned back around, his weary eyes locking with Gwaine, He replied, "Camelot's in trouble."" i.e. After being banished from Camelot for his magic, Merlin spends the year staying with Gwaine. Their happily ever after abruptly comes to an end when Arthur shows back up asking for help.

Gwaine/Merlin, Gwen/Arthur

T | 34,024 | Banished Merlin

Fly me to the moon

"Morgana looked back over to Merlin who looked to be in a similar state. “I think this night can’t conclude without a song” Merlin's eyes went comically wide and he was shaking his head “No no no. No one wants to hear that” Morgana chuckled. Merlin truly has a lovely voice but he rarely sings in public only performing for the two of them in the relative safety of Morgana's chambers. Gwen's face morphed into a pout and she leaned into Merlin. “Come on I’m getting married it deserves a song” Morgana let her own lips purse. Merlin looked between the two of them. Morgana knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse the both of them when she first asked. He never could." i.e 4 times Merlin sings about love + 1 time someone sings about their love of him

T | 6,689 | Fluff

If I should die before I wake

"Gwaine's mouth fell open and he reached for his sword "You're a sorcerer" he more stated than asked. Merlin had thought about telling Gwaine many times before. Lancelot was sure that he would be understanding and had tried to get him to tell him for months now. He was expecting a lot of things hurt pain betrayal what he was not expecting was the rage that burned in Gwaine's eyes. The disgust that lurked there too. He didn't realize until this moment how much that hatred and disgust would hurt. It felt like a million razors were trying to dig his heart out. Before he could even begin to answer Gwaine had turned and was yelling for the guards." I.E. Merlin gets trapped in his worst nightmare.

Gwaine/Merlin

T | 22,106 | Hurt/Comfort

My soul to take

"Merlin though continued in his frantics. The magic around the room and around Gwaine seemed to push harder. The temperature seemed to drop and the fire in the hearth went out completely. Gwaine was sure if Merlin would just look at him he would be able to calm him down but as it was Gwaine was looking at his profile and his eyes never stopped anywhere. "Merlin!" he tried a little louder. Still, with no effect, Gwaine was pretty sure he was about to pass out. His face had become very red his entire frame was shaking and his breaths were too short." i.e. Merlin is having trouble adjusting to his life again after the horrors he was trapped in. The others are trying to deal with the fallout. It is not going well I would suggest reading the first part of this story first. I don't think it will make sense otherwise.

Gwaine/Merlin, Gwen/Arthur

M | WIP(10,093 words so far) | Hurt Merlin

Confused and Concussed

"Then all hell broke loose. At least 40 men descended on them with weapons raised. Merlin was busy trying to take care of the 6 sorcerers that went straight for him. Calling spells and counter spells left and right while everyone else tried to keep the bandits aware with their swords. Gwaine purposefully stays as close to Merlin as possible while fighting off 5 men at once. Then the second wave appeared from behind and shit started going sideways. A big man took Merlin by the hair as he knocked out the final sorcerer and rammed him face-first into the tree." or While out the knights, the king, and the court sorcerer get captured but not before Merlin gets hurt.

Gen

T | 2,193 | Hurt Merlin

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

Hmm what about a dynamic where A is reckless and rushes into danger trying to save everyone while B always worries about A's safety and is there to catch them when they fall

ahh, here ya go, kly. hope i did this short well enough for ya. no names for the characters, tho. . . 😔

send me a prompt request featuring any character or dynamic + one word?

Word Count: 662 T.W/C.W: mentions of bruises, some crashing buildings, idk what else that slipped by me

***

Sometimes, they wondered where would they be if they didn't dedicate themself to their cause. If they took up a profession, where they didn't have to deal with immense dangers involved. Perhaps, plenty of things would go differently.

However, they wouldn't regret any of it. Sure, they had gotten trapped or kidnapped yet they always made it through. Saw it through no matter how tough their situation could get.

And maybe they could be a little foolish for doing what they do. But hey if they managed to help people. . . their safety was negligent. After all: it proved to be a simple price, which they would pay over and over again.

Back in their apartment, their ally tended to their wounds. Dabbing a wet cloth over wounded spots, cleaning it up as much as she could.

"You know," she said, grabbing a piece of gauze. "We'd have more nights of leisure if you didn't get back bleeding. I thought you'd have learned to lessen it by now."

"If those people didn't insist on stabbing or shooting at me," they replied with a heavy sigh. "I'm sure I wouldn't be stuck with it. But hey, they believe draining blood outta my system is gonna stop me."

She snorted, shaking her head. "I swear, you're just finding an excuse to be a martyr, eh."

"Then why bother sticking around?" they asked, arching a brow. They rubbed a hand over a gauze wrapped around a bruise on their elbow. "I mean if you got a problem with it, you can walk out."

They tried making it sound like a joke yet some seriousness slipped out. She lowered her arm, bowing her head. She gulped and set the cloth down onto a table.

Crap, they thought as regret engulfed them. They probably shouldn't have said. . .

When she peered up at them, her lips tilted into a small grin.

"Because I don't have much better to do," she answered dryly with a brief shrug. "Besides. . . who else can I stop from making bad decisions? Don't think I can find anyone else like you."

With a roll of their eyes, they threw a light punch at her upper arm. She burst out cackling

Even if they keep crashing down, a pair of arms were prepared to catch them. Keeping them. . . secured and reassured. That they weren't alone and they had an ally, who would be there for them. Whether they fell apart or get torn at the seams, they knew they wouldn't have to be alone. And damn, they were so lucky to have someone, steadfast and loyal, by their side.

It happened to be pivotal to them especially since they had to get people out of a building. It had been hit by a laser beam and they had to evacuate most of those who had been in it. If they didn't have a team, they wouldn't have done the job at all.

However, they had been slow at escaping themself. But the sound of concrete cracking set them on edge, freezing them on where they stood.

Before it could crumble on them, a whirlwind of a silhouette shoved them to the other side. Rolling along with them.

They tried catching their breath, turning their head at the person beside them. Only for their eyes to widen at their ally, who propped herself up on an elbow.

"You dumbass," she hissed, scowling. Her face crumpled. "You ought to be more careful, you know!"

"Sorry," they murmured, wincing at sharp sensation searing at their sides. "I would. . . I would have. . . but. . . thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet." She scrambled to her feet, dusting her jacket and t-shirt. She stretched a hand out. "C'mon. . . you got a job to finish. After that, you're required to rest. No complaints."

Their lips quirked up at the corners. "Yeah. . . no problem."

As her posture relaxed, she reached for their elbow. Guiding them to where those civilians had been brought to safety.

***

[league-of-sam]

Catching A Ghost | Simon 'GHOST' Riley

Ghost x Reader

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Simon 'GHOST' Riley x AFAB!Reader!OC 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

Catching A Ghost: Masterlist

The excitement buzzing through you was similar to that of a child at Christmas.

Your best friend was back, with a fucking fiancée, and your team was together again. Ghost moved all of his things into your room the second you pushed the newcomers upstairs. 

There was only one spare room, and of course it was Laswell's for the taking.

The newly engaged shouldn't be sleeping separate.

That was the excuse Ghost gave when he was running his belongings from his door to yours. Soap had scoffed, making a quip along the lines of 'Sure L.T., not like that's your girl's room or anything'. 

Ghost silenced him quickly, but couldn't help the smile that crept onto his cheeks underneath the mask.

Soap was right.

He just wanted to be with you every second that he could. It's not like he was using the bed anymore anyway, he spent every night sneaking into your room and then sneaking out in the mornings.

Glances were stolen every time he entered, as you were in the room, helping Alex and Farah get settled in.

"Are you sure he doesn't mind?" she asked, gesturing to Ghost as he walked out, a pile of books in his arms.

You smiled, shaking your head, "It was his idea."

"So, I was right then?" Alex spoke, wriggling his brow at you.

"Right about what?"

"You and Ghost."

"It wasn't all sunshine and daisies, Al. It took a lot to get here, including him acting like I didn't exist for nearly three weeks."

Alex frowned; he had no idea things had been so difficult for you, and he felt the same guilt as the day he left you in Las Almas crawl back.

He remembers the anger when he found out Graves kidnapped you, he remembers the heartbreak when he heard you'd killed him for it, and he remembers wanting to slaughter everyone when he heard you tried to sacrifice yourself for the cause.

After all, you were his best friend, and he'd rather die than lose you.

"I'm sorry, angel. I wish I was there-"

You placed a hand on his arm, shushing him, "It's okay, Keller. I'd do it all again if I had to. It seems that Simon Riley was worth waiting for after all."

"Oh my god." Farah exclaimed, placing her hands on your face, "You're in love."

You blushed wildly, and the smile on your face was a dead give away. It caused her to squeal, losing her composure for a moment, wrapping her arms around you as she jumped up and down.

"Yeah," you breathed once she released you, "I guess I am."

"I'm glad you're happy now." Alex whispered, placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"And I'm glad you pulled your head out of your arse enough to give this fine woman what she deserves." You spoke, swinging your arm over Farah's shoulder.

Alex rolled his eyes, but smiled, "Yeah yeah, whatever."

The rest of the day was a celebration.

Beautiful moment after beautiful moment.

Laswell had even allowed you to video call with Alejandro and Rudy, who both gave you a telling off for what you did in Chicago. You couldn't help but shed a few tears, both happy and sad as you missed them both too much.

By evening, everyone was hungry, and so pizzas were ordered and the alcohol started flowing.

The group was back together, and the happiness you were radiating had rubbed off on everyone else.

Ghost watched the room, leaning against the doorframe. 

Only his balaclava donned his face, without the black eye paint this time. He smiled as he watched you interact with Soap and Gaz, the three of you in the middle of a pretty intense game of Black Jack.

It wasn't going well, given the fact the three of you were completely hammered.

"Drink, Simon?" Price said, two glasses of whiskey in hand.

"Nah, thanks, Captain."

"C'mon, we're celebrating. One won't kill ya."

Ghost tore his eyes from you to look at Price, "Need t'be at my best, sir."

"Why?"

"In case she needs me." he said, nodding in your direction.

At that moment, you'd looked over, face beaming as you saw your brother and your boyfriend chatting away.

"Might not be my place, Simon, 'cause she'll always need you. But right now, she needs ya to have a good time and enjoy yourself. God knows you deserve it."

With that, Price left Ghost, the other glass full of whiskey resting next to him.

He watched you as you smiled widely, Price wobbling as he tried to sit on the floor next to you, and you making a comment along the lines of him being too old for that shit. 

Ghost looked back to the glass, pondering over his Captain's words for a moment. The sound of someone clearing their throat got his attention, and he looked up to find Laswell staring at him from the other side of the room.

She lifted her own glass, nodding to him, before knocking back the liquid.

He nodded back to her, lifting his mask to his nose, and downing the drink Price had left. 

Bourbon, fuckin' perfect.

The liquid burned as it travelled down his throat, but the sensation warmed him. It thawed him all the way through, and before he knew it, he was allowing Soap to drunkenly drag him over to the coffee table and shove him down, Gaz dealing a fresh set of cards.

You looked at him through your lashes on the opposite side of the table, a soft smile gracing your face.

I love you. You mouthed after you threw back another shot.

He copied your actions after Soap shoved a glass in his face, mask still folded at his nose, I love you too.

"Oh please, John, you were going so hard the ceiling tiles were falling down!" you yelled, hands flailing, "Mum had to drag me out of the house for over an hour so you didn't traumatise me!"

You'd lost track of the time, but at this point, you'd drank so much (thanks to Soap constantly handing you shots) that you could barely walk on your own, let alone tell the time.

Right now, you were going around in circles, each telling stories of the worst sexual experiences you'd had.

Price had been telling of the time he brought his first girlfriend home. You were only 11 at the time, and had been late home from school because of parents' evening. Price had taken the opportunity of an empty house to finally lose his virginity, only for you to come home in the middle of it.

"That's not my fault, (Y/N)! You weren't supposed to be back yet!"

Laughter erupted, loud and boisterous, as Price's ears tinted red at the thought of his little sister hearing him have sex for the first time. The others thought it was brilliant.

"Right," Soap said, wiping his tears away, "My turn."

With a swig of his drink, he became animated with his story, which also involved parents interrupting the deed, only, it wasn't his parents.

"No you fucking didn't." you gasped, hand flying to your mouth.

"Yes, I did." he repeated, "so there I was, naked as the day my mam brought me into the world, and her dad busts the door down while I'm mid thrust-"

You continued to listen, laughing every now and then.

About an hour before, Ghost had finally let loose, and was around five drinks deep, hence why you ended up now situated in his lap, squished into the small armchair together.

His arms were locked around your waist, and he had discarded his mask long ago.

His nose nudged your head as he peppered tiny kisses onto your flesh.

"You okay?" you whispered, craning your head to face him.

"M'good." he mumbled.

"You drunk?" you giggled, hiccupping a little.

"Might be."

"I can tell." you giggled, sighing as you leant back into him, "you were right, you know."

"About wha'?" he said, nose rubbing on yours as his eyes fell closed.

On a good day, your scent made his mind fuzzy. But now, intoxicated, it made him completely drunk on you. 

"You can't kill ghosts." 

He squeezed you gently, placing a kiss to your cheek as you let out a content moan.

"You can catch them, though." you added.

His eyes blinked open, a smirk tracing his lips, "You can?"

"Well," you smiled, "I caught you, didn't I?"

"I guess ya did."

He let out an airy laugh, his hands moving to shift your thighs so you faced him a little more, and he placed his lips on yours.

The kiss was soft and slow, and it said everything either of you needed to say.

"And then I had to jump out the window in nothing but my wee socks!" Soap finished his story.

The room filled with the noise of laughter once again, Gaz laughing to the point no sound came out, and he was aimlessly slapping his leg. The commotion caused you and Ghost to pull away, but the two of you shared the same smile.

This was what home felt like.

You were sure of it.

Interrupting the laughter, Laswell's phone rang, and she excused herself. You watched her leave, concern filling you based on the look on her face.

"What do you think's goin' on?" Soap slurred.

"I don't know, but based on the look on her face, it's not good." you answered him.

"S'gonna be fine, boo." Ghost spoke, pulling you close.

"Yeah," Alex spoke up from next to you, placing a hand on your knee. "We're gonna be fine."

Laswell rushed back into the room with a sense of urgency, shoving her phone back into her pocket and fumbling for the remote.

"Kate?" Price said, confused.

"We got trouble, boys." she answered, switching on the television and flicking to the global news channel.

Everyone turned to view the television, the news covering footage of a hijacked passenger aircraft, that was rumoured to have taken off in Russia.

This was no doubt the work of Makarov.

You all watched in horror as streamed footage from inside the plane showed three armed men, shooting the pilot and co-pilot dead. You gasped as the shots rang, hand flying to your mouth. Ghost pressed his cheek to your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you.

The room was stunned to silence.

You straightened up from your position on Ghost's lap, his arms locked around your waist tightly.

"So what now?" you spoke, and all eyes landed on you.

Ghost stood, bringing you with him and setting you down on the ground. His unmasked face scanned the room, and the others followed suit, a similar expression on their faces.

He looked down at you, his hand raising to stroke your cheek lightly. You leaned into his touch, worry striking your features. Pulling you into his side, Ghost looked back up, addressing the room-

"We fight."

Nods and murmurs of agreement flowed from your comrades. 

They were ready.

You were ready.

It was time to fight your way through this hell. It was time to fight for your team; for your home. 

For your Ghost.

Because you didn't spend all that time catching one to let it slip away.

"You and me, yeah, Boo?" he whispered in your ear.

You looked up, taking his face in your hands. You could see the fear on his face. You could see the worry in his eyes that he could lose you in this, that he could lose anyone in this.

Pushing up on your tip toes, your lips met his. Soft, slow, movements calmed him, and his arms moved to rest on your waist, pressing his chest to yours. When you pulled back, you placed your forehead to his, whispering.

"You and me, Simon."

a|n: and that, is the end. thank you to all of you from the bottom of my heart for reading. i can promise you, this isn't the end for our Ghost and Reaper; their story is not over. until then, stay tuned for the prequel...As Grim as the Reaper. love you all so much.

[run-clever-boy]

New OC! - Elise Sheppard

Art credit goes to cat june on the Neku App

My first OC!

As always, i take criticisms! I figured i would start some stories with some characters floating around in my head and I will link this post to any fics I use with Elise!

Characteristics:

Long blonde/strawberry blonde hair

'Coffee' brown eyes

Kind hearted/empathetic

Pale skin

Freckles galore

Badass character, can shoot and fight well

Style is all over the place, but mostly settles on a t-shirt and jeans if she isn't dressing up

~may add some multi-verse hopping/immortal lore if story permits~

Good friends call her El (elle)

Will not hesitate to put characters in their place

Age will vary from mid 20's to mid 30's (with immortal lore, she will appear that age)

Also that butterfly tattoo on her waist is *chef's kiss*

Background:

As I said in the list I will add some multi-verse lore for fandoms like doctor who, marvel, etc. She grew up in southern america and will say things like "y'all" when prompted. Some of her family was super country so she can handle weapons well. Loves music and art more than anything. Is sarcastic and funny with a bleeding heart.

T.W. death, abuse, and kidnapping below.

She was verbally abused by her father as a kid. Her parents were killed when she was 17 in her home. At age 18 she was kidnapped and tortured for entertainment of the wealthy. She escaped and is now an advocate for human trafficking causes. (I promise you i feel bad for this trauma, but the character development will kill)

You may absolutely request any fics with my dear Elise, and i will be opening up and OC ideas form for other OC's to be born!

[trixiedangxo]

sparklesandsonicrainbooms​:

“I never heard of Canterlot Island either. The last thing that I remember was opening my mansion to the townspeople of Gravity Falls. And I do not know why we are on Canterlot Island. I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you out, Chloé. I hope that we can become friends though!” Pacifica says to Chloé.

“Someone recently said to me that we are living on here against our will. I hope that we didn’t get kidnapped to this island. Wow, that sounds really generous. Of course we can become friends, Pacifica!” Chloé said.

[alannybunnue]

Ok, Imagine: The Targaryens as yanderes

Thank @missglaskin for this, i've been reading too much of their headcannons and i need to get this off my chest, so bear with me

T.W: The Targaryens(yes, considering how problematic and delusional they can be, they are a warning) Kidnapping, Pregnancy and Death by birth (Maybe even miscarriages, remember this is the medieval era x-x) probably mentions of SH/SA (Not gonna go into details about this) and maybe more (BE AWARE, THESE ARE MY 8AM THOUGHTS BEFORE COFFEE)

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So imagine that the reader from the HOTD is not a kidnapped child from a unfortunate family. They are descendants from an kidnapped person (It's not any better, i know-)

1. Aegon I!Reader:

Now, Aegon the Conqueror, conquering all of Westeros until suddenly, he meets a person that he can't understand why at first, but he feels infatuated with this person, even more than with Rhaenys.

You could be a mere commoner or a lady from a small house. Either way, you are taken from your home never to be seen again. Maybe he convinced your family to give you away, maybe he burned them to ashes, we will never know.

And although they were completely against this at first, Visenya and Rhaenys grew to adore you and now they spend time with you a lot, wanting to protect you(mostly Visenya) and gain your affection(especially Rhaenys). Not that it bothers Aegon, he feels great to know that both of his wifes are on board, and you are terrified. The people who kidnapped you and took your life away, want to play "Happy Family" like they don't keep you locked 24/7 while they terrorize all of Westeros.

Maybe Aegon did married you, but i like to think that he didn't considering he has two wifes already. But he did got you pregnant (cuz of plot and stuff).

All the 3 adore your daughter (Yes, it's a girl, again, plot and stuff), she is the apple of their eyes, their little princess, and no one is gonna touch her.

Both Aenys and Maegor see you as their fourth parent, doing anything to gain your praise and affection, especially Aenys since Rhaenys passed when he was 3 years old, which causes you to be more motherly to him(Also because he is a sick baby boy-), consequently making Maegor jealous.

Speaking of Rhaenys' death, that made your and your daughter's incarceration worse, since Aegon's paranoia grew a lot more, wanting nothing but to protect his beloved and his sweet princess, Visenya was no help, she just indulged her brother's tendencies.

And may the Gods bless Dorne, cuz the attacks will be tripled now X-X.

Unfortunately, life sucks and you die due to a disease, leaving your daughter in the hands of insane Targaryens who become even more possessive over her.

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2. Aenys/Maegor!Reader:

After your mother's death, your family turn their eyes to you, now as the only remark of their beloved, since you took most of her characteristics, in appearance and personality.

And don't come thinking that once you reach adulthood that you will be free, Aegon admitted that he was not gonna marry you off anytime soon, he just lost his beloved, he is not gonna lose his daughter too, and the entire family agrees. Although Visenya did offer to marry you to Maegor, your father didn't seen to believe that Maegor was a proper suitor for you(+ The Faith of the Seven was gonna go crazy on them, considering that you are half-siblings-) and Aenys was already married to Alyssa Velaryon at this point.

You enjoyed spending time with Alyssa and your nephews, it was a way to distract you from the rollercoaster that was your life. Because of that and the obsession being a part of their blood at this point, Aenys' kids tended to find confort in you even if you were not too far from eachother in age.

As for Maegor, well, unlike Aenys and his family who only felt platonic feelings, Maegor's feelings grew into a romantic and sexual obsession that at the time he could not fulfill and Visenya was not much of help either, she told him that one day, you two would be married. So imagine his anger when he was forced to marry Ceryse Hightower.

For a couple of years, your life started to finally take course, sure, you were still trapped and with no way of getting out of your family's view, but it was better than when your mother passed, at least you walk around...with at least 4 trusted guards taking care of your every move...

And then Aegon died.

After taking the Iron Throne, Aenys became even more needy of your affection and support due to the huge stress he was dealing thanks to the rebellions against him. You would stay by his side most of the time trying to give him the emotional support he needs. And boy, that infuriated Maegor a lot. Everyone is competition to him at this point, doesn't matter what feelings they have for you.

Maegor's relationship to you was another rollercoaster. As children, you were pretty clingy onto him since he is your older brother and Aenys was always sick or busy. As teens, he became more touchy with you, but had to cross limits after some time and stopped almost completely after marrying Ceryse. However that did not stopped him from making something clear, he wanted you, you would be his, and that frightened you.

Now, isn't suprising that he was married to Alys Harroway. To you, it was, Maegor was always adamant about you and him, so what changed? Maybe he needed to suppress his feelings and saw something in Alys that resembled you? Maybe you would never know, since he was exiled right after everyone discovered, and Aenys didn't even let him say goodbye to you. But the reason was obvious, only the Gods would know what Maegor would do to you if had the chance to see you one last time before going to Pentos.

The last years of Aenys reign was stressful and agonizing, not just because of the rebellions. Because of Aenys' disease that made you stay and take care of him, you tried to stay around his children to find confort on each other. Visenya would also try to confort you as your stepmother, and help you take care of Aenys. But at end, when you thought that he was getting better, Aenys passed away.

And you barely had any time to mourn the loss of you half-brother, cuz after the funeral, Visenya leaves on Vaghar to return with Maegor. You could only watch as your stepmother was crowning your half-brother in your nephew's place and the decapitation of Grand Maester Gawen. Not too long after, Maegor marries you in a Valyrian Ceremony.

And you spend the rest of the night in your shared chambers with Maegor reminding you who you belonged to, with his words haunting your every thought.

Then everything went downhill, you were locked away from the world, Maegor was the only one you saw, sometimes maybe Visenya. No one could get in your chambers except the servants when you needed something, but they wouldn't say much out of fear.

You had no chances of escaping, even when Maegor went into coma, you had to watch over him, take care of him. Since that was your duty as his wife and Queen.

You never met Alys Harroway or Tyanna, you only saw them once: When Maegor executed them both, his way of teaching you what could happen if you disobeyed him.

Since you couldn't leave, you never discovered what Maegor actually did or how many did he killed, but you knew that he was no good king. You only worried for you sister in law and your nephews, that Maegor forbidden you from meeting.

Only when he married Rhaena, is when you had a brief chance to know what happened to the rest of the family, how he killed Aegon and Viserys, how Alyssa had to run away with Jaehaerys and Alyssane, and also 'met' her daughters with Aegon, Aerea and Rhaella. Rhaena did spared you the details of the atrocities that your husband did, you had heard and seen enough.

For years, Maegor tried to have an heir, specially with you, mostly with you, but you never got pregnant, had many miscarriages and you never understood why. Until you did.

That pregnancy was hell, in shorts, but you tried to go through with it. But nothing works out for you and unfortunately, you didn't make it.

When Maegor heard the news that you didn't survive, his only question was about the child, not gonna lie, he was devastated over your death, but he needed to know what killed you...and it was a girl.

You had a daughter, which made easier for Maegor to simply want her dead, after all, he needed a son for a heir. But when he demanded the child to be brought to him, the baby was no where to be found. Since Rhaena had took her away.

Your daughter would live without knowing who her father nor her mother was, but surely, she would have a life better than yours.

And that's all that matters, right?

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A/N: I guess this is it, i don't have the mentality to continue now, so if you want more, let me know...ok bye

[grav3yardbb92]

PROFILER'S?

This is a reader's choice imagine with no distinct pairing.

T.W.: slight mention of torture, other than that, just fluff and fun with my favorite FBI team

****************

Come on, y/n. Just tell me." Penelope's heels clatter loudly beside me as she rushes to keep my pace.

"Pen, please, just drop it. I was tortured for information before, if they couldn't electrocute me into talking, what makes you think that I'd spill a secret to you." My response, leaves her, uncharacteristically quiet and her face holds pure shock at my casual mention on the torment I received after being kidnapped two years ago.

" did I just hear something about a secret? " Derrick's voice breaks the silence, causing me to mentally groan.

"Our sweet y/n has a crush" Garcia answers him, and I use the distraction to escape her constant questions on said crush. Just as I open the doors to the bull pin I hear her voice from behind me.

"You can't keep it from me forever. I have ways of getting information." This time I groan loudly and continue toward my desk, hoping for a case, just to change the topic from my personal life.

*Wish not granted*

Well we did get a case. But that didn't stop Morgan from telling our team all about my crush on one of our team members.

Of course, none of them know the REAL, secret. I have actually been dating a member of my BAU team for the past four months. It's not that we purposely kept it secret. We both decided to wait on telling the news until we had time as a couple, then, after a while, it became a game to test their skills, which apparently are lacking at the moment.

" so, y/n, what do I have to do to find out more about this love of yours? " Emily questions, as she approached me on the jet, on our way home after four days, one brutal case and nonstop pestering from almost every one of my so-called family.

" you could just drop it all together" my statement is met with multiple protest, with Rossi even pitching into the conversation. " you might as well spill, they're not gonna stop"

The jet finally lands and I am just moments away from a quiet reprieve at home. Or so I thought.

We exit the elevator on the floor that houses our workplace. Everyone's voices are mixing together in a slightly amusing argument over my mystery lover. " we all know of their orientation, it could be anyone of us" Emily's voice is heard above the others. " don't look at me, I've had more than my fair share of marriage thank you." Even I laugh at Rossi's statement.

Before we can approach the double glass doors, Penelope nudges them open, donning her usual bright outfit, with both her hands clutching a plate of delicious smelling, most definitely vegan, cupcakes.

"For you, my lovelies" she exclaims, passing the plate of goodies to each of us. Only, when I reached for one, she quickly retreated.

" not so fast, hot stuff, spill it"

Another mental groan threatens to spill past my lips, as I glance across the faces of my teammates.

" Well, I guess the jig is up huh."

I glance toward my amazing partner in crime, who returns my smile,before stepping toward me, planting a kiss to my lips. " and you call yourselves profiler's "

[itisannak]

Wicked Game (Mafia Boss!Calum x Florist!Y/N Smut/Angst)

Summary: Florist (Y/N) has no business with a man like Calum. (Smut / Unprotected Sex / Penetrative Sex / Spanking / Use of Sex Toys / Dom-Sub Dynamic / Semi-Public Sex / Mention of Threesome / Oral; Male Receiving) (T.W: Violence / Mention of Drugs / Injuries / Kidnapping / Cheating / Hospital Stay / Guns / Mention of Surgery) This is an NSFW fic. If you feel uncomfortable reading content like this one, please, scroll through the chapters to find something else you might like. I have been writing this one since September. Please, show it some love. (Words: 26k) (Request)

My Masterlist / My Ko-Fi

I never planned for my life to take this turn. All of the people who have ever met me would tell you I am nothing but a goody-two-shoes, the girl next door. And within a night, I found myself dating the King of California. Well, not exactly the literal King of California. Maybe the King of Underworld California. It doesn't really make a difference what metaphor I use to describe him. The essence is Calum is dangerous, and I have no business being with him.

But there I am, picked up from my job at the flower shop by 3 of Calum's men, in the back of a car that reminds me of the ones we see in movies driving a fictional US President. If I thought the car is extremely secure, the house is an absolute fort, guarded on every angle by both tech and manpower. The bodyguard guides me to where Calum is sitting, drinking a small americano, as he does every evening. I leave the bouquet of tulips before him I bought for today, getting his attention off his journal.

"There she is. A bit late today, weren't you?" He asks, shutting his journal and placing it on the end table. "We were ambushed on the way home." I shrug, watching him as he snaps up from his armchair. "By who? Travis!" He shouts the guard in, gritting his teeth. I laugh at his response, making him narrow his eyes at me. "Why must you be such a brat?" He asks me, turning to look at me with a stern look. "Because it's fun. If you could see you now, you would understand." I reply, taking a seat on his armchair. I drape my legs over the armrest, as Travis enters the room. "Boss, is everything OK?" He asks; Calum has everyone standing on one foot, ready to kill or die for him. "You can go, Travis..." Calum says in all seriousness, eyes still fixed on me. "You sure, boss?" Travis asks. I stare back at Calum, still keeping my cocky smirk. "Leave." He grunts, walking up to me. He stands just before me, looking down on me with his jaw locked tightly. "You shouldn't be that abrupt with your people." I tease him, earning a huff. "You are the one to talk about shoulds and shouldn'ts." "What is that supposed to mean?" "It means that you keep on defying me. You keep on toying with me, teasing me. You keep on messing with me. And you should not be talking about what I should be doing and whatnot." He grips my chin, making me look at him. "Oh, I am not supposed to defy you? Oh no, I must have thought the opposite." I tease. Calum just groans at me, leaning down to pick me up over his shoulder.

"Cal, no..." I whimper, but his hand lands on my ass. "No what?" He asks me, carrying me out of the room, not caring that his people are watching us. "Leave me on my feet. I can walk." I protest but his hand meets my ass again. "There you go again. Trying to boss me around. You are putting yourself in a very tough spot." He warns me. "Maybe I want to be in a tough spot." I sass and he chuckles, but a dark, twisted chuckle, one that promises me along, eventful night. "Oh, princess... You don't want that." He fakes a coo, heading straight to our bedroom.

I am thrown onto the bed, my body bouncing on the mattress before I lay flat on my back. "Don't make a single move." Calum orders, holding a finger up warningly. "What happens if I do?" I ask, almost purring. "You don't want to find out. You don't want me taking all my anger out on you..." He warns, heading towards the dresser. He fumbles with the drawers a bit, picking a few things up before he moves to our bed. He throws the stuff beside me, kneeling on the mattress and hovering over me. "I need you out of that outfit." He stares, moving his fingers to undo my jeans, rolling them down my legs. He takes a moment to inspect my underwear, humming pleased at my choice for the day. "Not bad. Does your boss know that underneath your casual little outfit, you wear lingerie that's worth a month's paycheck?" He asks me, running his fingers under the elastic of my panties. "Only you know that information." I reply and he chuckles. He grips my chin, bringing my face closer to his. "It better stay that way." He says, pulling me in for a kiss. My breath is caught in the back of my throat as his tongue pries my lips apart, his hand pinning my wrist above my head. "Not fair." I protest breathlessly once he parts from my lips, reaching for something besides us. "And I am just getting started..." He smirks, holding the pair of leather bounds up in the air, showing me what awaits me in a few seconds. "We need to get that polo shirt off... I don't think I hate any other cloth on you as much as I hate this." He groans, picking the hem of my blouse. "You know, I could shred it to pieces..." He groans, throwing it aside. Calum is not so fond of me working, especially in a flower shop and this is not the first time he has voiced it. "I have another one. And my boss will just give me another and keep money from my paycheck." I reply and he hums. "I think I should have a word with your boss." "No intervening, remember?" I remind him, looking at him in seriousness. "Oh, kitten... You are so cute trying to be all serious... Lovely..." He coos at me, reaching behind my back to unhook my bra. Without a single warning, he flips me onto my belly, grabbing my wrist and fixing them against my lower back.

"There ... So pretty." He secures the leather bounds around my wrists, prohibiting me from being able to touch him. "And now, let's see what else I brought for you..." He says in a sadistic tone, cupping the left side of my face in his hand. He holds up a pair of nipple clamps, jiggling them effusively before me. "I think you know where those go, don't you, angel?" He asks me, his tone patronizing. "I do." I reply, knowing that the question - though rhetorical-, needs an answer. "Good girl..." He flips me again on my back, cupping my breast before his fingers pinch my nipple to roughen it. "And here go the goosebumps..." He comments, pleased by how my skin is covered with them. "Wait till you see what's next... It's my favorite thing to put in you... Well, second favorite to my cock..." He states, holding a princess butt plug before me. "Of course, I wouldn't put that on your pretty little butt all by itself..." He nods towards the bottle of lube resting on the mattress. "I...I haven't prepped for anal..." I gulp thickly. "Oh, I know, sweetheart...I am not going to fuck your ass... Not today. I just like the way the gem sparkles every time I spank your ass." "I am going to get spanked? But why?" I ask, almost whining. "You are asking? Really?" He asks me, cocking an eyebrow. "You are a pain in my ass, little brat...I might as well be a pain in yours..." He squirts a generous amount of lube onto the buttplug. "Now, flat over my knee..." He pats his lap, inviting me to drape myself over it. I crawl closer to him, laying across his thighs and waiting for my punishment. "It's not fair." I grumble and he chuckles. "It's not fair when you talk back to me. Or when you scare me. Or when you don't listen to me." He counters, gripping onto my ass, before he squeezes on it roughly, spreading my ass cheeks to squirt more lube. "Like a good girl, you are going to take it, aren't you?" He asks, toying the toy around my entrance. I nod my head and squeeze my eyes shut as he pushes the plug in. I whimper as I stretch around the toy, despite the lube making it relatively easy to slide in.

"Sweetheart, I hate to see you like that..." Of course, he is mocking me as he presses on the toy to ensure it is well-fitted. "And now the fun can begin." He hums, stroking his hand softly down my ass, raising goosebumps on my skin. Of course, it is fun for him, but if I am honest, I really like it when he is spanking me. There is something liberating in him treating me like that, something I cannot explain. The first strike never hurts, he knows that, so he is teasing me to pry the element of surprise with that first hit. He smoothly fondles my ass, in an almost sweet way that makes me lower my defenses. And then his hand meets my bum, producing a loud slapping sound. My first instinct is to gasp, but I manage to swallow it, not giving him what he wants. And that seems to make him more desperate to get a reaction, bolder and more eager to pry what he craves from me. "You are trying to prove you are a big, brave girl?" He asks me, landing his hand repeatedly on the same spot. "Well, it's not going to be too good for your ass... It's best if you surrender, princess..." He warns me, squeezing my ass after slapping it.

Despite it, I remain with my lips pressed together, enjoying his desperation. "Shit, princess... Don't make me bring a paddle over here..." I know this is his last resort, but my ass is already sore and I do not want to add further strain to it. With the next slap, I let go of holding back and release a whimper, squirming in position over his lap. "There we go... It's not that hard to break you after all..." He cocks, landing his hand again on the same spot, which is now pulsing and becoming hotter.

The last spank finds me in tears, sniffling as he rubs his hand over my red cheeks. "Look at what you've done to my hand..." He growls, showing me his red palm. "I am sorry..." I sniffle, biting my pouty bottom lip. "You should be... If you weren't so insubordinate, I wouldn't have to spank you..." He sounds so twisted, only a narcissist would accept an apology for a sore palm after spanking someone raw. "Disgusting." He rubs my sex, gathering my wetness with his fingers. "Only the most desperate whore would get so wet from being spanked... Disgusting." He traces a lone finger around my clit. I am not sure if not replying will work in my favor, but I am willing to find out since I am so shaken that I can't look for a response. Not that I am trying too hard. "I am tired. Time for you to put in some effort." He says coldly, moving me aside as if I am made of silicon flesh and I am nothing to him. He lays on his back, only undoing his pants and lowering his briefs, freeing his cock before bringing his hands behind his head and averting his gaze from me. With cheeks still stained from my tears, and my hands now sore by the bounds around my wrists, I can only crawl on my knees to get to him. Almost falling to the front, I straddle my leg over his waist. "No. Turn around. I don't want to see your face while you take my cock." He barks the command. My heart aches by the comment; it is honestly worse than any other punishment this far. He always says he loves nothing more than to watch my face as I cum around him. And now he is so upset that he doesn't even want to see my face. My bottom lip quivers as he still doesn't bring his eyes to my figure. "Calum, please." I sniffle, but I only receive dismissal from my lover. "Daddy, please. I don't like this anymore." He perks up a little, just enough to let me know I can stop it with a word. "Enough. No. Untie me." I say, my cheeks fired up. Calum sits up and rushingly comes to aid me out of my bondage, quickly undoing the buckles of my bounds. "Shit, are you ok?" He asks me, shifting back to the worried look he had a little while ago in the lounging room. "Yep." I smirk, before laying on my back and pulling him by the neck on top of me. The smirk does not fade even when Calum gasps and looks at me sternly. "You little minx..." He groans as I wrap my fingers around his cock and stroke him. He does not say much else, not until he is inside me with a strong buck of his hips on mine.

"How much longer do you think you will be taking advantage of the sweetspot I have for you?" He asks me, slowly thrusting his full length inside me. "For as long as I can, daddy..." I say after a much-held-back moan. Calum groans again, an angry yet playful sound coming from his throat before he leans closer to me and captures my lips in a kiss. His hips move rhythmically to push his cock inside me; sex with Calum at this point means he knows my body like the back of his hand, he knows what I need without even having to hear me say it. My hand moves to his cheek, my nails gripping onto his cheek as he deepens his thrust, hitting that spot inside me that I like so much when it is given attention. There is a bitter yet sweet taste in his kiss, a mixture of tobacco and strong coffee that is otherwise cloying and repulsive, but on Calum's kiss is homely and aphrodisiac. He is the opposite of what is usually my type, when I met him I was sure I would not fall for him. But fate laughed at my face and in seconds, I was swept off my feet. "You are even tighter with that plug inside you." Calum only parts from my lips to comment. I can feel my sex pulse around him as he fucks me, his cock and the toy making me feel full to the brim. It is not the first time, and certainly won't be the last. It is exciting to not know what he is going to add next time to our sex life, it keeps me on my toes. "You still smell like flowers." He moves from my lips, lowering his nose to the curve my neck meeting my shoulder makes. "Might be because I work at a flower shop." I tease him, bending my leg to wrap around his waist. "Don't fucking remind me." He scoffs, grazing his teeth over the tender flesh of my neck. "You fuck me harder when I do." I say cockily. "Careful what you wish for..." He warns me. I arch my back and move my head to free more space for him, allow him to explore my neck, again, anew.

But Calum seems fixated on something else, something I do not realize until I feel him pull on the chain that connects the two nipple clamps. Up to this point, it was a numb feeling, something lost in the background, not hurting, but present enough to exist as a secondary feeling. And now it stings; my nipples are pulled and the sweet ache spreads from them throughout my body, the course of the electricity that roots from it raising goosebumps on its passage. And then his hips slam on mine and glue there, solidifying with my body for a second to oblige me to feel his full glory. I grunt, then sigh, my eyes rolling back as a response to all the stimuli. "I told you to be careful what you wish for." He lets go of the chain, snaking an arm down my body and prying my thighs open to the max. "Cal... Cal..." I whimper, feeling the bed rattle underneath us. "You can't keep your mouth shut, can you sweetheart?" He asks me, his grip on my hips tightening. It hurts where he touches me for a moment, his thumb surely making a bruise on my skin. And the pain subsides and just adds fuel to overstimulation. I can't put my finger exactly where it feels best, I can't decide which of the things he does to my body makes me feel the most divine. "Calum, please. I need to cum." My body craves to ease an itch deep inside me, it craves to gain the release it deserves. It's too soon, I know it is too soon and that we have barely started, but the pain from spanking and the presence of the toy still inside me make me unable to avoid the impending high. "So desperate, I love it." He groans, angling up his thrusts before he pulls me in for a kiss. He is rougher than he was in the first kiss, now biting and pulling on my bottom lip as he watches how my face twists the closer I get to my orgasm. All I can do is whimper and moan, bucking my hips up as much as I can, to get more of him, to feed the last bit of my orgasm. "Fuck... Fuck. I am cumming." I cry out, my mouth falling agape and my head tilting back. My eyes shut and in my high, I can only hear how rushed and deep he is breathing. It is enough for my head to build the image of him, with his face tensed and his eyes dark with lust, sweating as he pounds inside me relentlessly. "Not inside me." I manage to murmur, causing Calum to grip my face and force me to look at him. "Don't want my seed? Don't want me to breed you, put a child in your womb?" He asks, hissing his words at me. "Not inside me." I repeat, still not having caught my breath. "Fuck it, then." He swiftly pulls out of me, nudging my hip to flip me on my chest. His hand lands on my ass once more, right on the red spot he made just before. I flinch and raise my bum in the air, turning my head to the side to look at Calum jacking off. He strokes his cock fast, groaning as his hand wraps around his throbbing member. "Shit, princess. Look what you are doing to me." He groans. His body is jolting, his chest rising and falling more and more with each stroke he gives himself. "Fuck, (Y/N), baby." He moans, shooting his cum on my ass. Breathlessly, he falls onto the bed, sprawling himself out on the mattress before inviting me to rest on his chest.

"Are you alright?" He asks me and I hum. "I am. You?" I ask back, placing my head over his heart. "I am fine. We need to get those toys off of you. And wash you up, and put some lotion on your butt. And you need to eat something." He lists and I sigh. "Can you relax for a little bit? You'll take care of me in a while." I say lazily, craving a moment of solitude with him. "Did I hurt you much?" He asks, taking my hand in his and locking our fingers together. "No, I am ok. I like it when you are a little rough on me." I reply, pressing my lips on his chest. He is not a man of many words, especially not too talkative after sex, so our conversation end here for now, and we just sink into the beautiful silence.

I take a whiff of his scent, the rich smell of smoke mixing with his cologne makes me salivate, almost tasting him on my tongue. He smells like my Calum, a side of him I am the only privileged person to enjoy. He is soft with me; I know the latest experience does not really show it off, but he is soft with me, loving. I press my ear more on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and shutting my eyes, enjoying the beautiful, calming sound.

"This might hurt you a bit..." Calum warns me. Kneeling on the mattress, I am before his gaze, with him examining me for any wounds or bruises caused by him. "Not my first time in a rodeo." I chuckle and Calum looks at me in all seriousness. "Seriously. These ones bite back." He states and I roll my eyes at him. "Seriously, we have used these before. Just pull them." I groan and Calum huffs. "One of these days you are going to regret the sass." He pulls the nipple clamp, a little too abruptly, almost as if he does it for revenge, to pay me back for my cockiness. I shudder and let out a scream, feeling the pinch move from my nipple and tear through my body. My back arches and I can feel my eyes water, "Told you you were going to regret it, princess." He says sadistically, waiting for me to calm down before he pulls off the other clamp, in just the same way as the first one. "Ssh, princess... Thought this wasn't your first rodeo." He scoffs, passing his thumb over my nipple, before leaning in to kiss it softly. "Look at it, all rough and raw..." He fake-pouts, swirling his tongue around it. "Thought we were going in for a bath." I protest and he hums. "We are... You are lucky I already had it drawn for us." He pecks on my temple, before picking me up over his shoulder. I am actually thankful this time around; I am too tired to walk, even the short distance to the master bathroom.

"I dropped a bath bomb in... A purple one." He comments, setting me inside the warm, steaming water. I take a deep breath of the vapors, instantly recognizing the dominant smell of lavender, and the faint notes of aloe filling the bathroom. Calum joins in on the other side of the extra-large bathtub, sinking up to his diaphragm in the hot water. "Might fall asleep..." I mumble, relaxing my head back. Calum hums, but it comes out as a throaty groan, which anyone who does not know him would take as angry. But Calum is on the very verge of relaxation. "You need to eat first. Then you can sleep for as long as you want." He says sternly, placing his hands on the edges of the bathtub. His fingers tap softly on the white porcelain, and I can see his chest move as he breathes calmly but deeply. "I am not really that hungry." I comment, sliding my body down the tub and submerging in the water. I come out instantly, already feeling relieved of the tension in my head and shoulders. I am growing tired by the minute and my body is becoming tenser when it should be relaxed. "I didn't ask if you are hungry. I merely announced you are eating." He comes back once my head is out of the water. "I have kinda forgotten how bossy you are." "You have forgotten? Wow, I am way more lenient than I should be with you, then." "We know that you can't be strict with me." I roll my eyes and he hums. "Hm, and you keep abusing that." He replies as I stretch my leg out towards him. "How is your ass, princess?" He asks me, grazing his fingers over my calf. "It stings. I cannot sit on it, I am hovering here..." I reply and Calum smirks. "That should teach you not to scare me again." "Did I learn all the other times?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow at him. "You know, for a cute, little flower girl, you are way too sassy." "I mean, roses have thorns, they are still cute and little." "Didn't you say you were sleepy?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Very." I hum, resting my head on my forearms on the brim of the bathtub.

--

It has been a relatively quiet day at the flower shop, expected for the Wednesday morning. We usually don't get a lot of traffic in the mornings, nor on weekdays, so I focus on spritzing the potted plants with extra care. It is my happy place here, I know that most people don't find this job exciting or interesting, but I do. It fills me, it helps me keep my mind space.

I hear the chiming of the little bell hanging on the door, signaling me the presence of a client. I leave the spritzer by the last plant I water, wiping my hands on my apron before I head to the front.

My eyes land on the client and a smile erupts on my face, my gaze grazing my boyfriend's frame. "Good morning. How can I help you today?" I ask, biting the inside of my cheek. "Good morning. I need flowers. Lots of them." He replies, winking at me. "For a special someone, I assume." I comment and he hums. "For a special pain in my ass." He replies as we walk towards the fridge we keep the cut flowers to keep them fresh and crisp. "What flowers are we thinking of?" I ask with a cocked eyebrow. "Um, roses, maybe. All the roses you have." Calum stretches the words, making me cock my eyebrow even higher. "What color are we talking about?" "All the colors you have. All the roses you have. Your sunflowers too, she likes sunflowers." I roll my eyes at him but his smirk grows even bigger. "You must love that pain in the ass too much." "Fortunately for her, I do. I am making her a steak dinner tonight, with a very expensive, very mature red wine. And I am filling the house with flowers for her, she really likes them, so I like everything that makes her happy." "She will be home on time." "And she better wears something nice." He comments, leaning closer to me. I can't help but smile; he is too sweet for my own good. "Did I forget an anniversary again?" I ask and he shakes his head at me. "No, you didn't. Don't worry." He assures me. "Did you do something I should worry about?" I ask with my eyebrows furrowed together. "You have to stop being so vague." He pecks on my forehead and I groan. "Come on, Calum. Just tell me the reason behind all this royal treatment." "I just think it has been an awfully long time since we had a date night." He explains and I coo. "Just that?" "Mhm... Now, the flowers." He points at the glass door, taking a step away from me. "All the roses, in every color I have them, and all the sunflowers... Wonder where you'll keep it..." I mumble and he chuckles. "Do you have any orchids too?" He asks and I throw my head back in surrender. "It'll take me forever to wrap them." "Good thing then that I have nothing better to do all day but watch you." He winks at me before I open the glass door to take the vases with the flowers out.

I expected the house already filled with flowers, buds, and petals scattered all around, but the house seems tidy and clean, as it was when I left it this morning. "Mr. Hood said you should head in to get ready. Dinner will be ready in ninety minutes." Travis says, stopping me from walking further than the entrance hall. "Where is Calum?" I ask the man before me. He could be considered Calum's right hand, the head bitch of the minions Calum presides over. Travis does not reply to my inquiry, only stares at me and shows me the way to the bedroom. I sigh, knowing it is futile to insist; he won't tell me because Calum told him not to. "Fine! Fine!" I curse under my breath, holding my hands up in surrender. I make a beeline to the bedroom, and Travis follows right behind me, to ensure I won't disobey his advice. As if I would sprint around the house in search of Calum. Naive me would have done it at the start of the relationship. But now I know that if Calum doesn't want to be found, no one will ever find him.

Contrasting the state of the hallway, the room is decorated with flowers, mostly red, pink, and white roses. Petals form a little circle on top of our bed, framing a big gift box that rests in the middle of it. I sigh; spoiled once more, from head to toe. Without even having to open the box, I know it contains an outfit for the night. At this point, I know Calum has a better taste in fashion than I do. I undo the ribbon and lift the lid of the box, revealing a beautiful, emerald green, silk dress, much fitting his Slytherin aesthetic. I take the dress out of the box, laying it atop the duvet. Pursing my lips, I observe the garment, trying to come up with a complementary look for it. Off to the shower fast, then I can worry about looking good for his eyes only.

"...I don't fucking care. Are you all so incompetent that you can't even give me a night off? Are you all such pussies that you can't follow clear instructions?" "Boss..." "Don't fucking use any excuses. Since you are all idiots, I'll tell you what to do once more. Break his fucking kneecaps. Both of them. And tell him next time he fucks me over, he will sleep with the fish." "Calum..." I peek through the door. I am not sure what the issue is, and I am not sure who he is talking about, but waiting outside the door is not an option for me anymore. I've heard too much, way too much for me to still be comfortable with who I am dining with. I want him to change back to the loving, calm boyfriend he has been all day, not this ruthless, lawless man that stands amid a flower-covered room. Calum perks up. From the snarling, spine-chilling look he has been giving his minions, he changes to a softer, but still too tense expression. "Go. Don't bother me again tonight." He barks at his men, who one by one make their way outside the room. None of them looks incompetent, none of them would strike anyone as a softie, it's not the word that would come to mind upon seeing them, in fact, quite the opposite. Yet, they almost look like scolded puppies walking out of the room, passing by me.

"Let me take a look at you, baby." He sighs; he is trying his best to calm down. Sometimes it is scary how he can turn this side off so quickly. I walk into the room, standing awkwardly before his eyes, and looking at the floor in uneasiness. I notice 2 sunflower inflorescences by my foot, resting on the floor among a myriad of petals and buds. My eyes decide to focus on them, at least until I am contented enough to look my person in the eye. "You look stunning once more tonight, my love." He says sweetly, bringing his hand to touch my cheek softly. "Thank you." I say in almost a whisper, still staring at the petals of the sunflower. Calum sighs in what I recognize is regret, and my eyes flicker for a second to his face. "I am sorry they ruined the night." He tilts his head to meet my gaze. I stay silent, lacing my fingers together. "Fuck... How much of it did you hear?" He asks me, running a hand down his face. "Enough to remember who you are when you are not my sweet, caring boyfriend." I reply, finally lifting my head to look at him fully. "I am still your sweet, caring boyfriend." He takes my hands in his, bringing them to his lips. He leaves soft pecks on my knuckles, peeking at me through his lashes. "Who breaks peoples' kneecaps in his spare time." I mumble under my breath, earning a chuckle from Calum. "Did you see me do it?" He asks me and I huff, closing my eyes to bring my nerves down. "Can we not talk about this tonight?" I ask and Calum nods his head eagerly. "Gladly. Dinner is set outside. Shall we, pretty?" He asks me, holding his arm out to link mine with his. I loop my arm through his, deciding to leave the overheard conversation in this room, and step outside for a romantic star-lit dinner with the person I love.

Vases next to vases filled with flowers are on the floor of the balcony, and in the center of the roomy deck standing a carefully set table. Calum pulls the chair out for me, inviting me to take a comfortable seat. "You did all that?" I ask, despite knowing he had help, too much help. "Most of it. I bought the flowers from a very beautiful lady." He winks at me, taking his seat across from mine. "Should I be jealous?" I ask with a playful squint in my eyes. "No one compares to you, baby." He replies, reaching to raise the bell of my plate. The food is still steaming, the heat being trapped inside by the inox utensil. "This looks delicious." I take in the details of the plate. A beautifully filleted steak, medium cooked with a sprinkle of kosher salt and a side of green salad. Definitely Calum's creation, from head to toe simple and clear. "And the wine..." He stands up to pour me some of the rich red wine. I can smell the aroma even without picking up the glass. "Are you trying to court me, Mr. Hood?" I ask and he smirks at me. "Isn't that already obvious, Ms. (Y/L/N)? I added a slice of parmesan cheese on your plate, I know you like it with your leafy greens." He retreats to his seat; I have only now calmed down enough to be able to observe him tonight. He is wearing that white shirt I got him on our last anniversary, with the snake embroidery on the collar, and his usual pair of black slacks, which he probably owns a dozen pairs of. "You know, you look mighty fine tonight." I comment, picking up my glass and reaching toward him. He mimics my move and clings his glass to mine. "I had to match how gorgeous you are, didn't I?" He asks me and I roll my eyes at him playfully. "What should we toast to?" I ask him and he takes a moment to think about it. "What about how gorgeous my love looks in that dress under the starlight?" He asks me and I can feel a flush creep up my neck and onto my cheeks. "I can't say it is a bad reason to drink at." I cling my glass with his again, before pulling it back and taking a sip. I moan at the first swig, the smokiness of the aging mixing with the sweetness of the fruit-like base. My tongue tingles for more as I swallow; I am spoiled rotten in that way. Before Calum, I would be excited if my wine came in a glass bottle. Now the taste of cheap red leaves me indifferent. "Good?" He asks me and I hum. "Marvellous." I reply, cutting a piece of my steak even smaller. I take a bite and scoff, it tastes that good. "Jesus, if you continue cooking like that, I'll turn as round as a meatball." I comment and he shrugs. "I'll still think you are the hottest woman." "You are obsessed with me, admit it." I tease him and he nods. "Obsessed is an understatement." He replies, cutting into his steak.

Leaning on the rail of the balcony, I take a sip of wine as I stare at the stars. It is a clear night in Los Angeles, not really usual for the hectic city. But I fully appreciate being able to look at the stars without the pollution in the way. Calum's lips find my sweetspot behind my ear and my eyes flutter, my head finding its way onto his shoulder. "Hello there..." He murmurs. Since we left the table, not many minutes ago, we have been in silence, just stargazing. "Hi." I say with a smile. "Have I ever told you how sexy you are in this light?" He asks me, pecking my temple as his hands move down to find my hips. "You find me sexy in all lighting." I sass and he laughs softly. "Maybe you are sexy regardless of the light." "Solid theory." I turn around to face him, now his hands moving to my ass. Even the slightest touch makes me feel ready to burst. "Are the watchdogs watching us now, or did you send them to nibble a bone?" I ask him and he chuckles at me. He knows I am not so fond of having people always watching our way, hidingly present in our private moments. "I would assume you are fine with them by now." He comments, gently touching my chin. "Why do we even need them here? The house is a fort. And why do I need them following me around all day? I am just a florist. What? Do you have beef with the tulip mafia?" I ask jokingly. Calum's gaze turns a little mellow. No, no, a little somber. "You need them 'cause I am afraid." He reminds me. "Of what?" I ask him again, still frustrated over the fact I work minimum wage but walk around with bodyguards. "Of who I will have to turn to if anything happens to you." He touches his forehead to mine, his breath becoming slow. I touch his cheek, not knowing what I can say to make him feel better, to dissolve his worry. With my hand over my heart, if anything ever happens to him, I will murder the ones who hurt him with my own bare hands. I guess we are rubbing off on each other; Calum has turned softer since I met him, and I have taken a dark and twisted hint from him.

I pull him in for a kiss, my lips inviting his for a dance. We haven't kissed at all today, and I can honestly say I have missed the taste of his lips. Calum sighs in relief as he deepens the kiss, my hand now moving to the back of his head to toy with the stands of messy curls. He squeezes my ass tightly, pressing his body on mine. I feel him, all of him. His muscles, his warmth, his heart beating in his chest. I feel him. And the erection growing in his pants does not surprise me. All it takes is a moment for us to turn into fucking animals. "We should head in." He suggests, his hand grazing up my body, hovering for a second before toying with the left strap of my dress. I turn my head only for a second, to look at the railing as I leave my glass on top. It'll have to do, I can't think of where else to put it. "Are they watching us?" I ask him again. "No." He replies simply. "We can stay here then." I move his hand so it pushes down the strap of my dress, revealing my breast to him. His eyes dart there, his tongue peeking from his lips before his hand cups the breast. "I love wine-drunk you." He mumbles, leaning down to capture my nipple in his mouth. I shudder, every time his lips wrap around my sensitive bud I feel the same wave of electricity course through my body. A moan leaves my lips, catching Calum's attention. "Hey, we have just started... Keep the lewd sounds for later." He chuckles, in a fake-pity tone. "Later?" I ask, trying to figure out what the night holds for me. "Later, princess. When I fuck this tight little pussy of yours. When my cock stretches your perfect little hole... Mhm, that's when you'll have to get all those little moans out." He whispers, his face inches from mine. I stare at him with lips agape, almost melting at his gaze. "Calum..." I whimper. Calum presses his forehead against mine, his fingers pinching my nipple roughly. "You have the most perfect tits I have ever seen, babygirl... Shit, you should walk around topless all day long." He groans, pulling at the peak roughly. "Calum, please... I am so wet." I can barely bring the words out of my mouth, already under his spell. "My perfect pet... My needy, little pet." His lips slide down my neck, feeling the curve of it with his mouth. My eyes flutter and I can feel a tingling sensation spread all over my sex as his mouth meets my sweet spots. I am going to explode, and he is not even inside me yet. "Let's see how wet you are." He muses, sliding his hand down my body and under the hem of my dress. He gasps in surprise, seeing that I am bare underneath my dress. "No underwear? Naughty." He smirks at me, bringing his fingers to my sex and running them over my slit. "I figured they'd be off sooner or later. Why bother putting on any?" I ask and he shakes his head at me. "My fingers are coated with your wetness. Shit, look at this, look how easily I can slip my fingers inside you." He whispers, sliding 2 digits deep inside me. My hands fly to his face, holding it between my 2 palms as I shriek and moan, pressing my forehead against his again. "Calum, please. I am begging you." I say, dragging in a sharp breath. "What do you want, kitten? Use your words, tell me what you want." He demands. He has that voice that he uses to command his men, that make people melt to his every will. "I want your cock, I want you to fuck me. I want you to make me cum around your cock. Please, baby." My lips fall open as his fingers curl up against my spot, pressing on it until he sees my eyes darken in lust.

He doesn't comment on my pathetic cry for him, he only retrieves his hand from between my thighs and turns me around, pressing his body against my back. Calum pushes my hair to the side, freeing my neck and then hicking my dress up until my ass is bare. In the flash of a second, he is lining up to my entrance, pushing me softly until my chest is resting on the railing. I hiss as he thrusts inside me, my hand going straight to grip the cold metal. "Fuck me, princess... You are so tight around my cock." He groans, holding onto my hips harshly. I am sure my skin will be bruised when he lets go of my body, the spots where the pads of his fingers are pressing onto will be covered in blueish marks. Every time we have sex he leaves a mark on my body, sort of like a map, or a reminder of every place he has touched me. I wear them proudly, even under my clothes, their presence making me feel him on my body every moment of my day. He bucks his hips away from me, completely thrusting out of my cunt and making me whimper at the loss of contact. I did not mean to protest, nor let him know his action affected me, but the whimper fell from my lips without my absolute awareness. "Aw, kitten. So desperate for my cock?" He asks me tauntingly. I just whimper again, turning my head to look at him, finding him with a smirk on his face.

He strokes his cock along my slit, rubbing the head of it around my entrance before sliding in again, finally offering me some relief. His right hand snakes expertly down between my legs, reaching my sex and pressing his middle and ring finger on my clit. I shiver down to my core, straightening up and pressing my back against his chest. "Calum." I yelp as his fingers begin rubbing on my throbbing bundle of nerves. "You want security to hear you, baby?" He asks me, whispering it in my ear. His teeth find my earlobe, pulling on it slightly and prying a cry out of me. "I don't care." I reply, but I can feel my cheeks heat up at the thought. It wouldn't be the first time we would be heard, nor the last. "You don't care, huh? You want Travis to know how well I fuck your tight little cunt? You want him to know how much of a desperate slut my innocent flower is?" He asks me again, cockiness dripping from his voice. "I don't care. Let him know. Let everyone know. Just fuck me." I plead and he chuckles, thrusting fast inside me. His fingers work at the same tempo, rubbing my sensitive clit with vigor.

He fucks me like it is the last time he ever will, making sure I hear him grunt and curse under his breath. There is nothing I want more than kissing him right now, having his moans and grunts vibrate in my mouth. But purposely he has positioned us like that, so I can't reach his mouth. "Shit, baby. You are going to be the death of me." He growls as I back my ass on him, meeting him mid-thrust. "I need to cum. Please." I whimper in a high-pitched tone. I am pulsing around him already, my stomach aching from the tightness. "Oh yeah? So soon?" He asks me. He is so cocky about this achievement, bringing me to an edge so fast, but I know that he is on his very limit, holding back so he will feel me pulse around him before he pulls out and cums. "Please. I need to. It hurts so well." I cry out and he coos at me. "Aw, my baby. Her little cunt craves an orgasm." His breath is short and forced, I can feel him sweat as he approaches his climax. "Don't pull out tonight. I want to feel all of you, every single aspect." My words are barely coherent, but Calum makes sense of them, cursing my name at the sound of my suggestion. "You sure it's not the wine talking?" He asks me and I nod. "It's not. Cum inside me." I nearly demand, to which Calum responds with a slap on my clit. I nearly scream, my sex pulsating in surprise. "Fuck." I yelp, resting my head on his shoulder and arching my back. It is a silent orgasm, but holy fuck a powerful one. I am limp with exhaustion as I come down from my high, my eyes filled with sparkles, and tears rolling down my cheeks. "Fuck it, I can't hold on any longer." Calum glues his hips on mine, emptying his load inside me. It is an exciting feeling, something I have only felt before a handful of times.

"Fuck me, I love you so much." He whispers in my ear, meaning it to be heard only by me, and no one else, as if the world is watching us. "I love you." It falls from my lips easily, without even having to think about it twice. I love him, in spite of all logic. I love him because my heart needs no logic. "I'm cold." I mumble, eyes still shut and head still resting on his shoulder. "We should head in, then. I would hate to have you sick... You make a horrible patient." He teases me and I scoff. "Fuck off. I am wonderful at all times." I chuckle and he hums. "That you are." He kisses my temple tenderly before he pulls out of me.

--

"Wake up, princess... It's time to go to work." Calum whispers in my ear, tracing a pattern on my shoulder. I grump and turn, burying my face in his chest. "Hey, Cal... Remember all the times you offered to buy the store and be my boss's boss so I get special treatment?" I ask and he laughs. "I do." "It's time to make an offer. I'd appreciate it if the deal was done before 9." I mumble and he chuckles at me, pecking on my forehead. "You are finally ok with laundrying?" He asks me and I groan. "Way to ruin everything..." I protest and he strokes my hair slowly. "Can't we stay in bed today? Just lounge in..." I suggest and he sighs deeply. "I thought you liked the flower shop." He mumbles and I shrug. "I do. But I am so tired." "Told you you shouldn't have stayed up to binge that stupid series." "You are not the boss of me." "A minute ago you wanted me to be." "You are too smart, you know that? It's annoying." "Come on, get up. You are going to be late and the ficus is going to die of dehydration." "Eh, don't say that..." I groan before leaving a peck on his chest and getting up from the bed.

"I am going to be late home today. Don't wait up, ok?" Calum states, getting off the bed right after I do. "How late?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows together as I slip my feet into my slipper. "I don't know. Definitely after midnight." "That late." I sigh in defeat. "I know, I know." "And I was hoping I'd see you a bit today." "Is that a complain?" He asks me playfully, walking over my side of the bed. "A tiny one. It's been a month since our last date night..." I tilt my head to the side and he hums, gripping my chin to make me look at him. "What if I promise you a getaway? A weekend retreat, just me and you." He suggests and I cock an eyebrow at him. "A retreat where?" I ask and he bites the inside of his cheek as he thinks about it. "Somewhere warm and sandy. You look so good in bikinis..." He pushes a curl of my hair behind my ear. "Malibu?" I ask excitedly and he hums. "I can make it happen. I can find a secluded place, just for me and you... A place where clothes will be optional, nearly forbidden..." He trails off, his index finger tracing down the side of my neck. "Mr. Hood... If I didn't know you better, I'd say you are trying to seduce me." I fake gasp as his gaze is fixed on my neck. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say it's working." He teases and I burst into a light laugh. "Go get ready for work. Be a good flower girl today, and I'll make sure you wake up to a great surprise tomorrow." He pecks the tip of my nose, making me giggle at the ticklish feeling.

"Do you know where Calum is?" I ask Travis who I assumed stayed back for my protection. Several of Calum's men are missing today, along with Calum of course. The house is still an impenetrable fort, naturally, with a dozen men guarding the entryways, and that's who I can see only. But Travis, my boyfriend's trusted gunman, stayed behind, to guard his most valuable possession, me. It's quite romantic to think about, actually. Travis stares at me, obviously not bending to my question. He is not going to snitch on Calum, whose mantra is 'The less (Y/N) knows, the better.' So I decide not to pressure Travis and save my energy for something better. "I'll take a shower and head to the sitting room. I'd appreciate it if I was left alone." I state, making the man nod at my demand. "What would you like for dinner?" He asks me and I grimace, shaking my head. "I am not hungry." I reply, making my way to the bedroom. "He is going to be pissed if you don't eat." Travis reminds me and I shrug. "Well, that's a problem he and I will have to face." I reply, making the man sigh in defeat.

Curling up in the armchair Calum usually sits on, I open the book I've just bought this afternoon. It's a love story, a fictional tale of romance between a commoner and a mafia boss. It's funny, sort of surreal reading the epic tale of how dark and glamorous this love is when in reality, not a single story could commemorate what an ordinary and simple love it is. Still, those stories manage to capture an aspect of it; the worry and heartache, the constant fear that his life is in danger.

I didn't realize that I have fallen asleep in Calum's armchair. I did not realize I was asleep, not until the commotion woke me up. It's not too loud, almost as if they are trying to be quiet in their rush. But when you live with Calum, you learn to pick up even the slightest noise.

I quietly follow the noise; there are no signs of struggle, and surely, if there was an intrusion, Calum's men would have rained fire upon them. I push one of the men standing in the kitchen's doorway, making my way inside the crowded room. Amidst the room lays Calum on the island, the sight alone making my heart stop. The man moans and grunts, occasionally hissing as one of the men try to fix the wound on his bicep. "What happened?" I ask, but my voice is only a whisper. "What. Happened?" I demand to learn. Now everyone's eyes are on me, including Calum's who is now cursing through gritted teeth.

I feel a pair of hands trying to wrap around my body, starting to drag me out of the room. I put my weight on my foot, stomping on the man's toes, who lets me go and winces. "Anyone who thinks it is a good idea to even touch me right now, I will cut your hands from the shoulder. Now, what happened?" I ask. It is almost an animalistic bark, a dog snarling at predators. All remain silent, looking at Calum, who is tightening his teeth and keeps his eyes shut to endure the pain. "Everyone out." I demand, lunging forward and climbing on top of the island. I take a fresh gauge and saturate it with alcohol, pushing the man's hand away. "Everyone, out." I demand again, pressing the gauze on the wound. Calum screams but soon manages to find his breath. "Are you all deaf? Did you not hear her?" He asks his men. Hesitantly, but almost in sync, the men walk out, except the man who was tending to Calum's wound until now. "Is the bullet still inside?" I ask him. I know my face is fuming red right now, and I can barely keep myself from full-on sobbing. "No, but it is a deep wound." The man replies and tries to assist me. "Then out. Leave." "But..." "I know what to do. Leave." I demand. "It's ok, Leo. You can go." Calum assures the man. He leaves the room, looking at us throughout his exit.

I grab the kit that was left aside and bring it closer to us before I take a look at the wound. It is not too deep, luckily, but seeing my love like that brings out my worst thoughts. "It's just a scratch, it just stings." Calum mumbles. "That's a lot of blood for just a scratch." I comment, sniffling to stop myself from crying. "It's superficial. It's just the alcohol that makes me wince." He assures me. I nod my head and pick out a clean dressing for the wound. "We were in one of the clubs. Things got out of hand, but I am ok." Calum explains. "Yeah..." I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from screaming. "(Y/N), listen to me, please." He sounds desperate, but all my focus is on fixing him. "Baby, I am here... I am ok. This is nothing..." He assures me. "Shut up. Literally, shut your mouth." I have reached my breaking point, sobbing as I clean his wound.

And Calum seems to follow my demand, staying silent as I care for his injury. After wrapping it in a mesh gauze and securing it with a bandage clip, I jump off the island and pick up the blood-covered gauze. I am tired, to the verge of exhaustion, but the thought of seeing his blood tomorrow morning when I'll be drinking my coffee is enough to give me the absolute required energy to pick everything up and clean the mess. "Head to bed, you need to rest." I command, not daring to look at him. I can't, I don't have the mental nor the emotional energy of going through my macabre thoughts again. "Aren't you coming?" He asks me, carefully getting off the marble-top counter as well. "I need to clean your blood off the marble... And I need a shower." It is as if I am looking at alien hands. The amount is not much, but I have his blood on my palms, from pressing the gauze on his wound. "I can get someone else to clean up. Come to bed with me." He invites me. I know he is trying to soothe me to the best of his abilities, but I cannot, for the life of me, go to bed right now, no matter my exhaustion. "Go to bed, Calum." I turn my back to him, bending down to reach the cleaning supplies cabinet. Silently, after a loud sigh, Calum makes his way out of the room, leaving me and the blood stains alone.

I scrubbed every inch of the island and then devoted the remaining of my energy to scrubbing away the blood off my skin. I contemplated using one of these steel sponges, the ones my mom used to use when the pots and the pans were covered in grease, but my hands were already wrinkly by the time I was done cleaning them.

I could not bring myself to sleep next to Calum, something in the idea even repulsed me. So, I checked on him, finding him snoring on his side of the bed. I fixed a pillow under his arm, bringing his limb to heart-level to avoid swelling as the all-knowing internet suggested, placed a kiss on his parted lips, and made my way to the lounge, where my book was still left, open, page-down on the leather armchair, waiting for me. I was wrong; the book did not prepare me for the heartache of my love's life being in danger, nor even for a simple injury of his.

Morning rolls and finds me still awake, despite the apparent exhaustion. I find it futile to wait for the alarm of my phone to go off, so I get up from the armchair and make my way to the master bathroom. Calum is still in our bed, asleep, and had not moved an inch since I checked on him last night. I thank whoever is up there for that; his hand stayed still and I won't have to worry about the wound rebleeding.

I stand under the scorching hot water, letting it wash away my tiredness. I have to remind myself that Calum is still alive, that he is in the room just outside the door, sleeping, breathing, still warm, with blood pumping into his veins. He is here, he is going to be here when I get back from work, no one will take him away from me. I have to remind myself of all that, or else I will fall apart. There is only one question that eats away my insides. Who hurt him?

Travis is right outside the bedroom door when I exit it. "Do you always stand here waiting?" I ask him and he gives me a small, empathetic smile. "How is he?" He asks me. He worries about his commander; after all the years of being his right hand, they have formed a bond. "He is asleep. Let him rest, and change the bandage at the noon. Call that doctor that patches you up for antibiotics. He is fine now, but we don't want the wound to get infected." I state and Travis nods his head. "I'll make sure of it. Ricky is waiting in the car for you. You should grab something to it." "You are not the boss of me, nor my babysitter. What I should or should not do, is completely up to me." "I only said it 'cause you haven't eaten since..." "Worry about the person you are supposed to worry about. Maybe we wouldn't be in this position if your focus was on him and not micromanaging me." "I wasn't in the incident." He protests. "That's exactly what I am saying." I move away from the man. He is not the person I should let it out on. He is not at fault here, and frankly, maybe he doesn't deserve to deal with my angst first thing in the morning. But I have been bottling things inside since I saw Calum in the state I did last night, and it was my time to burst.

Work was almost mechanic today, I could not focus on anything else but the minutes running towards heading back home again. It was excruciating, time has never passed so slowly.

I thought it would be a relief when I'd step into the house, but my chest feels even tighter now. In any other case, I'd say I am being too dramatic, but this just feels too real. What if next time it is more than just a scratch?

I enter the room, finding Calum sitting in bed, watching something on his laptop. "Is it 5 already?" He asks me and I squint at him, earning a laugh from my boyfriend. "I was counting the minutes for you to be here. How was your day?" He asks me, patting the spot next to him on the bed. I kick off my shoes and slip off my clothes, raxing my body before crawling to bed next to him. "How are you feeling?" I ask him, pointing at the bandaged arm. "Good. I can't move it with ease, but I am ok. Doc came this morning and checked me out. She said whoever tended to my wound did an excellent job. She gave me some antibiotics for a week. How are you, baby? It must have been difficult for you last night." He strokes my cheek with his free hand and I shrug my shoulders. "Travis told me you haven't eaten since yesterday morning... You are supposed to be eating, you know?" He comments and I roll my eyes, folding my arms before my chest. "I am also not supposed to be patching up bullet holes, but here I am..." I retort, anger apparent in my voice. "I am sorry. I haven't slept all night, and I am still in shock." I admit and Calum nods, seemingly understanding my angst. "It's ok, princess. You can let it all out on me." He soothes me, letting me lean my head on his shoulder. "I was so scared last night..." My bottom lip trembles as I let it out, the image becoming vivid in my mind again. "I can't stop thinking of what would happen if it wasn't just a scrape. I can't stop thinking of what would happen if I lost you." I wrap my arms around his torso, burying my face in his chest. "I promise you, I am not going anywhere. Nothing bad will ever happen to me. You are stuck with me for a very long time..." He jokes, pecking the top of my head. "You better be... Just a scratch and I want everyone's head on a spike." "Everyone's?" He asks me, surprised by my aggression. "I am not joking, you know. I want to find the person who shot at you and rip their heart out of their chest." I groan and Calum laughs at the comment. "You are so cute when you get all murderous." He coos at me and I throw him a deathly glare. "Calum, I am very serious." "That's what I am worried about. So, let's talk about something else, something that makes you less serious. Like the trip to Malibu." He suggests, stroking his fingers down my shoulder. "What trip to Malibu?" I scoff. "The one you and I are off to Friday evening. I will pick you up after work, you'll have your bag packed already, and we will drive down to Malibu, where we will stay all weekend long, just me and you." "What about your arm?" I ask and he hums playfully. "My arm will be fine. I'll take my antibiotics, and thankfully I have the best care in the world, who will change my bandages if needed..." He kisses the top of my head once more, holding me even tighter to his body. "Come on, I have to eat to take my antibiotic and you have to eat because I can hear your stomach complaining. And then we can take a nap, 'cause I don't know about you, but I am feeling a bit tired." He suggests and I nod my head. "Yeah, I am a little sleepy too." I admit, yawning softly.

-

"...Make sure you move the orchids away from the window before closing for the night. They will be fried in the morning sun... And tomorrow at the opening, I have left you a list of the plants that need fertilizer. Don't overdo it." I list to the girl that works part-time and is replacing me for the weekend. "OK. I got it." She assures me. "And the roses, they will be delivered tomorrow morning. Make sure you put them in the fridge, move the old ones to the front." I instruct her, and she nods. "I have done this before. I will be ok." She replies. I can see she is fed up with me, and she is looking to get rid of me. Luckily, she is saved by the entrance bell, which signals that someone is here. "I got it." I announce, turning my head to find Calum in the front of the store. "Don't you have to leave?" She asks but I brush her off.

"Hello, sir. How can I help you today?" I ask playfully and Calum throws me a side smirk, one of those he wears so well. "I need 2 dozens of sunflowers. My girlfriend likes them a lot. And I upset her this week, so I want to make up." "I am sure she is not that mad at you anymore." I reply, moving to the fridge to bring out the vase of sunflowers. "I know. I just want to spoil her, you know. I am taking her away on a little trip, I promised her it would be just the two of us." He winks at me as I begin picking out the sunflowers one by one. "Pick the prettiest ones. They won't compare to her beauty but maybe they'll come close enough." He says softly. "Calum..." I coo and he smiles at me softly. "Oh my God, how do you even know my name?" He asks me playfully. I throw my head back, looking at the ceiling as I close my eyes. "My coworker over here is going to finish your bouquet because I am actually off the clock. I gotta get ready to leave, my boyfriend is taking me on a little trip, just the two of us." I sass, gesturing for the part-time worker to come finish the flowers for me. "Is he taking you somewhere nice?" He asks me with a cocked eyebrow. "He better be." I squint my eyes at him, leaving to the back of the store where I keep my stuff.

"Thought it'd be just the two of us..." I comment as I slide into the backseat of the SUV. My flowers are already waiting for me in the middle seat and Calum looks at me with a somber expression, pointing at his wounded arm. "I can't drive that well. Travis and Lu are only driving us, they'll be elsewhere during our stay." "You won't even notice we are with you." Travis turns to look at me. "Oh, I am noticing. This is not what I was promised." I point out to the front of the car, to the two men, who I have nothing against. Nothing but the fact they keep showing up to my moments with Calum. "(Y/N), baby... You have to understand." "Yeah, I always have to understand." I brood, crossing my arms before my chest and sliding on my seat. "Start the fucking car." I groan, turning my head to look outside the window.

Still sulking in silence, the driver takes an exit to a road down by the beach. It is sunny and warm outside, and if I wasn't so angry at Calum, I would be smiling and thinking of all the fun we would have under the sun this weekend. It is such a minimal thing for me to be mad about, but I hoped it would be just me and him, for the whole weekend. No one from his life that would constantly remind me we are not safe. I was just looking for two days of it, nothing more, 2 days and then we could go back to business. But I can't even have that, apparently.

"Boss..." Travis mutters, getting Calum's attention. Calum hums, taking his eyes off the scenery outside the window. "We are being followed." Travis comments, darting his eyes to the rear-view mirror. He seems calm and collected, and so does the man on the shotgun. "Are you sure?" Calum asks. Obviously, I am the only one whose heart is about to jump out of their chest. "They have been following us since the exit." Travis replies and Calum turns to me. "Duck." He commands, trying to look at me assuringly. "Maybe it is a coincidence..." I mumble, unfastening my seatbelt. "Fire a warning." Calum instructs and the man next to Travis nods. I curl on the floor before my seat, barely a second before the man puts his arm through the window and fires a warning shot in the air. I yelp at the sound, still not used to the sound of a gun firing. Calum has slid down his seat, jaw tensing as he waits for a response or its absence. I am praying it is just a coincidence that there is a car following us since the exit. Just a coincidence and now the other driver will think we are just gun-crazed idiots and we will go on to enjoy our little beach trip.

But of course, the prayer is futile and seconds later there is a response, a shot fired, not in the air like our warning, but a shot straight into the car, piercing through the glass in the back and sticking in the front, shattering the glass into a spiderweb-like pattern. "Shit." Travis curses. He is no longer calm, his voice fluctuating. "Hand me the gun." Calum points at the glove compartment. "No, Cal." I nearly demand it, but the gun is in his hands in split seconds. "Shut up." Calum growls at me, peeking up before he shoots. I count 4 shots, and then I hear the car behind us screeching. "Petal to the metal and head to a safe." Calum commands Travis who is already speeding as it is. l can feel my whole body shaking violently, panic taking over me, and my surroundings are not so helpful to ease the feeling. There are glasses everywhere, I can see Calum is scratched up, and Travis's vision is too limited for him to be running like that. I close my eyes, shutting them tightly to focus on something else, anything else. My mind wants to go to my happy place, but at every rough turn, I seem to lose my way there.

The drive to the safe house was a nightmare for me, a never-ending type of car ride. And the house is the exact opposite of what I had pictured for the weekend. Almost buried underground, it is humid and stuffy, a claustrophobic's worst scenario. "Find out who the car belonged to... We need to know who wants to scare me and why." Calum barks the order as he grabs the first aid kit from the cardboard. "Scare? They wanted you dead." It is no time for hysteria, but here we are. "If they wanted me dead, I'd be dead." Calum looks at me as if he just now notices I am still here. "Travis, make sure she is not hurt, remove the glasses from her hair, and tell someone to pack all her things from the house." Calum requests. "Where are we going?" I ask Calum, who picks a glass out of his already hurt arm. "You are leaving. We are over." He is not looking at me, and he sounds cold and determined. "No, we are not. What are you talking about?" I ask him and he pounds his fist onto the wall. "Don't you see you can't stay with me? You are not safe. I will give you all the money you need to have a comfortable life. Just go, please." "I look pretty solid to me... I am in one piece." I retort and Calum glares at me. "You could have gotten hurt today. You have to leave me, you have to be safe." He sighs. "If you want me safe, you have to be the one to keep me. I am not leaving you, end of discussion. Now, I'll go remove the glasses from my hair. By myself." I announce looking at the three men in the room with determination.

Calum only decides to join me in the small bedroom way late at night. Still awake from the tension, I welcome him silently, lifting the corner of the blanket for him to climb under. Calum sits on the edge of the mattress, kicks off his shoes, and sighs, shoulders slouching forward. Tiredness is written all over his body, I can tell without even having to take a look at his face. He turns his head to look at me, his eyes only half-open. "Why don't you just leave?" He asks me. His under eyes are puffy and dark, he needs a lot of rest immediately. "Because you don't want me to leave. It is the shock speaking. It was the first time I was in actual, immediate danger. You got scared, and now your fear is speaking instead of you. You love me, Calum. And I love you. So as long as there is this between us, I won't leave. I told you already. If you want me safe, keep me safe." I reply, stroking my hand down his forearm. Calum sighs, giving up the argument for the night, but something in my heart tells me he is not done trying to convince me to leave him. He slides towards me, getting under the blanket with me and letting me wrap my arms around his waist and spoon him. I rest my head in between his shoulder blades, closing my eyes and letting my heart sync with his.

-

"I think I need a meal and a warm shower..." I mumble as we enter our house. We left the safe in the middle of the night and took as many diversions as possible to make sure we were not followed by anyone. And now, Sunday evening and we are both more tired than we were when we began this weekend of relaxation. Calum doesn't respond to my comment but rubs his temples with a soft sigh. "Why don't you head in for a shower, and I will get started on the food? I'll even make you some coffee." I suggest, smiling at my boyfriend who is still very much somber. "That's what we'll do... Go in for a shower." I encourage him, before heading to the kitchen to make something quick.

Deciding on a quick stir fry noodles dish, I pour water into a pot to make the noodles. Sighing a deep breath, I try to shake off the goosebumps that have risen on my skin since I stepped in here. It is not easy for me, but this is my home, and I refuse to let anyone take my comfort in this house away from me. I have to shake it off, I have to pretend I am ok. Maybe if I do, Calum will forget about this whole, ridiculous sending me away thing.

The food has been already served on the plates, and it has turned cold long ago. Yet, Calum is still not on the table with me. My stomach is rumbling, demanding food that is not crackers and canned tuna. I decide I have waited enough, and pull my plate closer, picking up my fork and digging in my portion.

--

Calum has been distant for the past 2 weeks since the car shooting incident. I can say that in the past 14 days, I have barely talked with him for more than 3 hours. I know he is still worried about my safety, and I know he is only pretending, but that doesn't mean his behavior doesn't fucking hurt me.

None of his men even talk to me, obviously to their boss's request, so I am just left alone with no one to even exchange a word. I grit my teeth and pray I last without breaking down until Calum realizes he is not winning this round.

The house seems empty, a weird, chilling aura in the space as I enter it. Travis is not in his usual spot in the hallway, which is even creepier. A spark goes off in my heart, the thought that Calum might have kicked everyone out just for us to be left alone and have one of our old-time dates. I smile to myself and rush to the kitchen, my heart beating fast in anticipation. Yes, just finally back to normal.

But the kitchen is empty and there is no sign of Calum, not anyone else. Of course, the disappointment I am experiencing right now is on me, no one else but me is to blame for my stupid expectations. I pound my fist onto the marble-top island, before letting out a scream; it's not like anyone will hear me and judge me for being on the verge of hysteria.

Crying about it won't help. And neither will drinking by myself, but I guess I am doing both. I can't fucking take it anymore, I can't fucking bear his behavior any longer, but I have to, I have to since I am hopelessly in love with him. That doesn't mean I can't think he is an asshole. I don't even know how I can shake him out of his funk anymore. All I want is for things to go back to normal. All I want is for him to show me he still loves me.

For 5 days the house was empty. No one even called to check on me. I thought I almost lost my mind when I saw Calum coming into the bedroom. I shot up from the bed, looking at him as if I saw a ghost. "Where the fuck were you?" I ask, not even trying to be subtle about this. "Are you interrogating me?" He asks me. He sounds like he has been expecting this, like he has been planning for this. "Yes, I am. I have been left alone in this house for 5 days. I had to walk a mile each morning to take a cab for work because apparently, you didn't even think of leaving two men behind for my commute. You didn't even bother to call me, check up on me. So, yeah, I am interrogating you. Where the fuck were you?" I ask, placing my hands on my waist. "It's none of your goddamn business where I was. Now shut up, I need to sleep." "Calum, stop being an asshole to me. Just tell me where you were... And tell me why you didn't even reach out to me out of decency even." I snap and Calum scoffs, standing up from the bed as well. "Because you are not the center of the universe. Deal with it. I have had enough of your crap, and your demands, and your fucking feelings. You wanted to stay, suck it up now." "Suck it up?" I ask, my voice trembling. "Deal with the fact you are not that fucking important." He spits it out, grabbing his things from the bedside table before he walks out of the room, probably off to sleep in a guest room.

No matter how hard I try to remind myself he does not mean all that, I can't stop myself from feeling devastated as the words still echo in my ears.

-

"The driver is waiting for you at the front." Travis states as I exit the bedroom. "I'll take an uber..." I mumble at him, fixing my backpack on my shoulder. Travis wraps his hand around my wrist, trying to stop me from leaving the house. "Uber is dangerous. You'll take the car." He hisses the order. I pull my wrist away from his grip, staring at him in anger. I know he is going to snitch to his boss about my temper. "Your boss didn't seem to consider the danger when he left me all alone all these days. I'll be fine, and don't ever touch me or speak to me like that again. Am I clear?" I ask the man who chuckles at me before he grabs me by my jaw and forces me to look at him. I gasp, shocked by his behavior. He usually just takes whatever I throw at him, never has he retaliated. "Listen here, you little bitch. The whole world doesn't revolve around you, and none of us are here to put up with your stupid brattiness. So get in the car, or just fucking get killed already. I couldn't care less." He lets go of my jaw, causing me to stumble a few steps back from the release. "What the fuck did you just do?" I ask, my fingers pressing on the spot he was gripping onto. "You think you are so important in here but you are just a glorified cum dumpster for Calum. We all just go along your quirks for his sake, but God, we hope he finds someone else to drain his balls soon so you can get the hell out of here." Travis replies; he looks at me as if I murdered his whole family, like I am the worst of the worst. "Yeah, I am not your biggest fan as well." I sniffle, turning away to leave before I burst into tears before him.

I just can't wait till I get back from work and tell Calum how his right hand treated me today.

In a gesture of starting anew, I bought a bouquet of tulips from the flower shop, to brighten up the home a bit. I want a fresh start with Calum, or better explained, I want to go back to how things were with Calum before the stupid ambush and the shooting. Maybe if he sees me go back to my normal behavior, he will go back to my sweet old boyfriend.

I rush inside the house, eager and excited to create some romantic atmosphere for me and Calum. I'll start with the flowers, then a nice bubble bath for both of us, then I'll set the balcony up for dinner. It will be like our special little dates, and we will laugh and kiss, and for the first time in nearly a month, we will sleep together, and I'll put my head on his chest and hear his heart beating only for me. I smile to myself at the thought, but the smile fades as Travis steps in my way. "I wouldn't go to the bedroom if I were you." He comments, tilting his head to the side. I can hear some muffled noises coming from the bedroom, which makes my eyebrows furrow together. "Good thing I don't do what you'd do, then." I move away from him, opening the door to the bedroom.

I don't even have to take 2 steps inside before I realize what is going on. On my bed, the bed I share with the love of my life are 2 women, both of them clad in lingerie that leaves nothing to the imagination, one by each side of my boyfriend, who is laying on his back, with his cock in the blonde's mouth, and a hand pressing down on her head to take him further. "What the...?" I manage to mumble, the bouquet slipping from my hand. I am shaking and I can tell that I am on the verge of collapsing, my breathing becoming forced, almost as if I have to remind myself to breathe. "Oh, you are back early." Calum comments casually as if I didn't just catch him cheating on me, on our bed, with not only one, but two women. The 2 women turn to look at me, the one who is sucking him off and raising her head to reveal her lipstick-smudged face. "Don't pay her no mind... Back on it..." Calum groans, pulling the blonde's head back to his cock. I want to throw up, my stomach tight in a ball as my brain processes the scene. The brunette moves close to his cock as well, pressing her lips on the shaft the other one cannot fit in her mouth.

With my face tense, and my ego not allowing me to give him the satisfaction of bursting into tears, I move to the closet, reaching for the suitcase on the top shelf of the wardrobe. "Asshole..." I let out a scream, finally succumbing to the temptation of stooping low. "You asshole... I can't believe you just did that to me, after all the things we went through. After I put up with your bullshit for so long."I scream, throwing my clothes violently into my suitcase. Most of my screaming is incoherent, but that doesn't seem to bother him. He keeps on moaning, talking dirty to the women satisfying him and giving them directions. "Fuck, baby... Just like that... You are so good with your mouth." I hear among the sounds of the woman gagging on his cock. He is not even decent enough to wait until I am out of here before he continues.

I am not sure how long it took me until I gathered all my stuff from the wardrobe, but Calum has not stopped a moment until I was done throwing things inside my bags. When I exited the bathroom after gathering my toiletries, the brunette was riding him in a reverse cowgirl position. Calum looked almost drunk in euphoria, moaning under his breath."I hope you rot in the deepest pit of hell." I sniffle, taking one last look at the man I thought loved me more than life itself. Calum doesn't respond, only moans louder and bucks his hips up, making his lover scream in pleasure. I exit the bedroom, heading straight to the small lounge of the house to pick up the books I have there. I am not coming back in here, ever again. I am not stepping a foot in here even if my life depends on it, so whatever is left behind today is dead to me.

"I told you I wouldn't go inside if I were you." Travis mumbles as I rush towards the door to finally leave this place. "I hope you are happy. Your collective wish came true, he found someone else to empty his balls on..." I say bitterly, the words feeling like spikes on my tongue.

(Calum's POV)

"Did they leave?" I ask Travis as he walks into the lounge. "Yeah. They were still baffled you kicked them out right after (Y/N) left, but I gave them something extra for the frustration." He explains and I nod my head, before folding in half, bringing it to rest between my legs. I sigh, my stomach hurting as I remember her last words. "Find out where she is spending the night. And tomorrow send two newbies in a new car to stake the florist..." I mumble, trying to focus my gaze on the marble beneath my feet. "Ok." Travis mumbles. "What?" I ask him, raising my head to look at him. "Nothing... I just don't know, man. It's not my place to speak, but I am not sure you handled that in the best way possible. I am not 100% ok with how I treated her today." He admits. I clench my jaw, closing my eyes to bring myself back to sanity. "It was the only way she would leave me." "Why did she have to leave you? She was good, she was chill about this whole shit." "If anything happened to her because of this whole shit, I'd kill myself. She is not safe with me, she could get hurt at any moment." "And she is not hurt now?" Travis asks with a cocked eyebrow. "I know she is. But eventually, she will get over it. She will meet someone new, someone who better be great to her. She'll get married, have children, and live in a beach house down in Malibu, with a backyard facing the sea and a front-yard full of flowers. She'll be ok, and safe, and loved." It hurts that I won't be the one to give her all that. It hurts that I will have to live with her absence, with the thought of her smiling that morning, sleepy smile of hers for someone else. "How are you so sure she won't snitch on us? She knows too much, she could retaliate you." "No, she couldn't. Not her, not my (Y/N). I don't want to talk about it anymore. Just let me know where she spends the night and make sure she has security." I command, getting up from the armchair.

(Y/N's POV)

I am not myself anymore, that much I can admit. The days since I left Calum have blurred together and I cannot tell them apart, even if I try my hardest. I have set myself on autopilot, avoiding having to think for even a second, since thinking leads to only one, recurring thought; he never loved me. It sneaks into my mind even when I am focused on something unrelated. I can be thinking of what I'd like to have for dinner, and then that tiny voice that whispers to me Calum never loved me finds its way into my ears. It is exhausting, and it feels neverending. I can't get it to shut up, I can't make it go away, so I have decided to numb myself and leave all obligations to become mechanical.

I have to try my very hardest to mask my pain when I am working. No one likes to buy flowers from the sobbing gal, and I can't afford to lose my job now, I have to pay my bills all by myself.

And it's not like I can talk about this to anyone. I have no friends in real life, and my parents are far ignorant about all this, only having met Calum twice in the years we've been together. And even if I had someone I could open up to, I wouldn't even be honest with them, since most of Calum's life is a hushed topic.

I feel like all joy has been sucked out of my life, out of my existence. And I can't help but wonder; will I ever stop feeling like that?

Tuesday evenings are usually slow, so for the past couple of hours, I have been keeping myself busy with plant care. I run a moist towel over the leaves of the ficus plant, before moving it away from the window and shutting the blinders so the morning sun won't fry the plant until we open in the morning. With 5 minutes until closing time, I did not expect the bell hanging from the door to chime. I sigh and rub my eyes, before moving toward the client.

"Hello, how can I help you?" I ask the man before me. He reaches inside his jacket, grabs his handgun, and shows me it. My breath hitches in the back of my throat, and I look at him with fear all over my face. "Listen, the register doesn't have a lot of money today. It's the beginning of the week and people don't buy flow..." "I am not here to rob you. And if you listen to me like the good girl you are, you won't get hurt." He stops me and I nod my head. Fuck... I can't even imagine what he is going to do to me. But if I want a chance to survive this, I have to play along with what he wants. "Is there a back door?" He asks me and I nod. "Good. You leave your things here, you don't make a scene, and we exit from the back." He instructs. My eyes flutter, my stomach tight in a knot as my panic starts taking over. Up to here, I have to admit, he has been awfully polite for someone who is threatening me with a gun. "Can I at least close the store? It will raise suspicion if I don't..." I point at the blinders and the sign at the door that says OPEN. "Don't do anything funny. I won't hesitate to use it." He reminds me of the gun he is holding as if I could ever forget. I nod my head in agreement, moving to lower the blinds and lock the door. "Give me your things..." He orders once I am done with closing the door. "You said I'll leave them behind..." I mumble and the man sighs in annoyance. "Do you really want to oppose me?" He asks me and I shake my head at him, moving behind the registry to hand him my phone, my purse, and my jacket. "Good girl, keep it like that." He praises me, in a tone that makes my gut twist.

I move ahead to exit through the back door, the man moving behind me and pressing his gun on my back. Involuntarily, I arch my back, shivers raising on my skin at the threatening sensation. "Best behavior." He reminds me as I lock the door once we are out. Despite me nodding my head in agreement, the next I know is a hit to the back of my head and everything turning black.

Goodbye world.

(3rd Person's POV)

Her head hurts and her neck feels sore. She tries to rax her body, but it seems to be held down by restraints. She opens her eyes slowly, but the darkness of the space she is in is not so different from the darkness behind her eyelids.

Fuck, she has just realized she was abducted. She was picked up from work, by a man she has never met, who told her if she complied, she wouldn't get hurt. He lied of course, why wouldn't he? She can feel a dull pain radiating from the back of her head, where her captor hit her with the back of his gun. Nothing makes sense to her. Why her? She is just a florist, nothing more. Why would anyone pick her?

Trying to make sense of this makes her head hurt even more. Connecting the dots worsens her state and only brings her closer to a panic attack, which is certainly most unwelcome at this point.

She wants to press a hand on the back of her skull to soothe the pain, but her hands are tied tightly behind her back, with no margins of motion. Everything hurts, everything. And all she feels like doing is giving up, just letting go and dying right here, right now. There is no point in living, either way, she thinks.

She has no time perception of how long it has been from the moment she opened her eyes to the moment one of her captors came into the room she was kept. It felt like hours to her, though she is aware it could have been just mere minutes. A small lamp hanging from the ceiling, at last, gives her some sight, ending the abysmal tenebrosity she has been in.

"Good morning, sunshine." The man says mockingly. He now has a better view of the woman; she is, in all honesty, just the girl next door, no one he would expect to see with someone like Calum. (Y/N) brings her gaze to see his face, but it is hidden behind a balaclava. Good sign, she thinks to herself. If their plan was to kill her, they wouldn't bother wearing a mask. "What do you want?" She asks. Her voice is groggy, and her mouth and throat had dried up from the lack of water. "Don't bother your pretty little head with that. That's something your boyfriend should worry about." The man squats down before her, pulling at the rope that keeps her bound to the chair, making sure the restraints are well tight on her body. She looks too weak and tired to fight, but he just has to make sure. "My what?" She asks, her brain still in a haze from the hit and the shock. "Come on, don't play it dumb. Your boyfriend, the king of the world, Mr. Calum Thomas Hood." The man says sarcastically, which brings laughter out of (Y/N). They think Calum and she are still together, how ironic. She coughs through her hysterics, her throat in pain now. "Why are you laughing, bitch? Am I amusing you?" He asks me and she throws her head back. Her stomach aches from laughing too hard, the air feeling heavy in her lungs. "You have the wrong fucking info. Or better, you have the most outdated information ever. We broke up, it's been 3 months. He doesn't care about me, he never did. You did all that for nothing." She coughs again, and the man chuckles at her. She makes a mental note to ask for some water, so the horrible taste is off her mouth. "We will see about that, sunshine." He stands up and walks to the door, flipping the light switch so the lamp turns off, submerging (Y/N) in the darkness once more. "He doesn't care about me." She shouts, hoping they realize it and end this misery.

Not long after, the light is turned on again. Even this weak ray of light makes her eyes burn, and it does not help with the headache that has been forming since she became conscious. She is not sure if the light or the absence thereof is worse for her state. "We need you in tip-top condition if we want your boyfriend to pay up." The voice of this man is different, deeper that the previous one's. He holds a bottle of water in his hand and a plastic package with 2 triangle sandwiches inside. "Sealed, so you don't think we are trying to poison you." He shows her the meal, before unscrewing the cap and giving her a sip of water. The sip turns to a chug, and the chug turns to swallowing half a bottle at once. Oh, divine water. How many times has she underappreciated you... "I am not hungry... I want a painkiller, my head is going to explode." She states, catching her breath from the sudden chugging. Her diaphragm is somehow sore from swallowing so much liquid at once. "You eat this first. We don't want you getting sick... It's not like we can take you to the doctor." The man laughs. "He is not going to give you anything for me. He doesn't care if I live or I die. Let me go, or just kill me already, I don't care anymore. You are wasting your time." She protests. She doesn't care about her fate anymore, she is honest about that. "We will see about that. Eat now. And be thankful that we are so patient with you." He unseals the plastic packaging and brings one triangle before her mouth. Up to a point, he is right; they have been very patient with her, and she cannot deny it.

-

A knock on the door makes Calum raise his gaze from his notebook. It is the time of the day that no one bothers him, an opportunity for him to get his business in order. Not that he does anything else throughout the day. "Come in." He knows it is Travis requesting entry, no one else could be this late at night, and no one else has the freedom to do so. "There is a problem." Travis announces, taking a seat across from the man. Worry is evident in him, Calum could tell from the moment he entered through the door. Calum's guess is somehow accurate. The only thing he is missing is the awkwardness of his associate. How could he ever tell him what is going on? "If it's not life or death, I don't care. Figure it out yourself." Calum mumbles, grabbing his glass and taking a sip from his whiskey. He doesn't want to be bothered, he hasn't been in a good mood in the past month. It was a well-known fact amongst his men that since (Y/N) left, Calum has turned into a grouch. "She hasn't made it home for 2 nights straight. She wasn't at work either this morning. And the guys staking her out did not see her coming out of the store last night." Travis states the latest info he had on Calum's ex. He doesn't know any better way to make his boss aware of his ex's disappearance. "Are you sure she did not sleep at her boyfriend's?" Calum asks him; he dreads the day Travis will tell him she found someone new. "You know she doesn't have a boyfriend. Something is fishy. She always makes it home." The first part of the response was meant to soothe Calum, yet his heart has taken a dip to his stomach. "Fuck. Fuck. Shit. She was supposed to be safe away from me." He mumbles under his breath, running a hand over his face and tangling his fingers in a few locks of hair. "Has anyone contacted us? Have you tracked down her phone?" He asks, his mind jumping to the only logical assumption. Logical -of course-, only for those living the way he does. "It was found in the alley behind the store." Travis announces, placing the cracked phone before his boss. "Send people to find any cameras in the area. And make a list of all fishy behavior. Shit. If anything happens to her, I'll burn the city to the ground." Calum's knuckles have turned white from flexing his fist unconsciously, the thought of (Y/N) in danger making him want to rip his skin off in desperation. She was supposed to be safer away from him. He hurt her in the worst way possible, he had his people treat her like shit, all for nothing. "I'll update you if I have news." Travis tries to sound optimistic, but he knows, he knows deep inside him that (Y/N) is not safe, and any news he will bring Calum will be horrible. "No, you have 2 hours to find an answer. I don't care what you have to do. In 2 hours I am personally barging into every house in LA. Find her." He groans through gritted teeth. The scariest part for him is he means it. All these months later, he still would put his life in danger to save hers. -

"Smile for the camera..." One of the abductors instructs her, holding a polaroid camera close to her face to take one more picture. "Why no one listens to me? He won't give anything in exchange for me." She is becoming increasingly annoying by the minute she is in captivity, the captor thought. One of the others has already slapped her across the face to shut her up, despite clear instructions to not touch her. But now a bruise decorates her face, making her look in an even worse state. Hopefully, this will shake Calum and make him pay even faster. "Oh, but he will after he sees those pretty pictures of you... You look like a ghost, I bet that will shake him up." The abductor admits his thought, smiling through his ski mask. "You think he cares about me? I caught him fucking two women in our bed the day I left, he kept going while I gathered my stuff. You won't get anything for me, I am worthless." (Y/N) is not even trying to get them to release her, just to end her misery. "Oh, princess... Why the pessimism? Show me the good side now." He turns her face, taking a picture of the bruise on her left cheek. Now he understands why she has been begging them to just shoot her; she is broken. Of all the horrible things he could accuse Calum, breaking women wouldn't be in his options. "Wanna blow on it?" He asks her, shaking the first polaroid in front of her face. It is a power move, ballsy and obnoxious, and (Y/N) scoffs but complies. She catches a glimpse of the way she looks in the picture. So, this is how she will look as a corpse, she thinks to herself. "How long have I been here?" She asks, feeling her limps already sore. "Why, are you tired of us already?" The man asks back. "I need to stretch. Please, untie me, let me move for a little." She begs but the man chuckles. "I think you confuse the kindness we have showed you this far with stupidity." "I can't feel my legs, please." "No wonder he cheated on you. You are always fucking complaining." The man scoffs before turning off the light and exiting the room. There is nothing more for her to do, she just throws her head back and prays all is done soon.

-

"This just came in." Travis announces, handing Calum a manilla envelope. It has no name, no address on it, it is just blank paper. He tears it up, fishing inside it for its containings. 3 plastic square pieces, 3 slick polaroids which he doesn't know if he has the guts to take a look at. Will it be a sick powerplay exhibition, with the love of his life already dead and rotting? Or a warning, with her just beaten and broken, violated by scumbags an enemy paid? He bites his tongue and tightens his jaw, bringing the photos out of the envelope as he takes short, harsh breaths. He has to know, he has to know how much wrath he will unleash on the people who are hurting his (Y/N). Although, the amount of wrath won't be so different for each case. "They fucking hit her..." He growls, his eyes going wide at the first picture. His (Y/N), the love of his life and the light of his existence, with a bruise on her left cheek, bound on a chair. She looks pale and tired and she looks like she has already given up. It is certainly not the worst he could have seen her, but it still makes him want to hang the ones that did this to her from a hook from the ceiling. "Find them." He gives Travis a picture that shows a little bit of the background. It's like looking for a needle in the haystack, but it is a clue, and Travis will do anything to figure out the clue.

Before Travis could even take the picture from Calum's hands, his phone rings. An unknown number of course, finally a move from their side for ransom. Calum motions Travis to be quiet before he answers the call. "Calie boy... Finally, we are talking." The voice on the other end says. Calum has heard this voice before, he knows the man, he is sure of it. "Who is this?" He asks, even though he knows the man won't give him a straight answer. "Oh, come on... You have already forgotten me? Tsk tsk tsk... How disappointing... And I thought I left a mark on you. Well, a scar." The man laughs and Calum scoffs in realization. The man who shot him that night, Roman... something... God, Calum never bothered with learning names. "What do you want?" He asks, trying to remain calm. He has to, for her safety. He might not remember the man's last name, but he knows he is vile, a sadist, he has the rumor of the torturer, and Calum sweats at the thought of what he will do to his (Y/N). "Didn't you get the pictures? She is a beauty isn't she?" "My ex? Well, she is alright, I guess." At the thought of this slimy bastard touching even a hair off her head, Calum wants to throw up. "Oh, no, don't say that... She is very beautiful, even now she is weary. I don't know how my guys keep their hands to themselves." Calum knows he does it to taunt him, but he can't help but hiss at the idea of them touching her. "I don't know what to tell you. She and I are over for so long... It doesn't matter to me what you do with her." He hopes Roman lets her go. He hopes he finds another way to leverage him into doing whatever he wants him to do. "Oh, well then... She has been telling us that. Maybe I should tell my guys to do her the favor and just kill her like she has been begging us to." Calum's ears begin ringing, a high-pitched noise filling the silence. "What should I do, Calum? I can't keep her here much longer. Should I let her go? Or should I put a bullet between her brows? I bet that picture will be even better than the one in your hands." He asks him as if this is some sort of video game where the dead bodies piling up in the background are not real. Sick bastard, Calum thinks to himself. "What do you want?" He asks him, his voice coming out like a growl. "Now we are talking. I heard you had some visitors from Colombia. They came in a big ship, apparently." Roman sounds too cheerful, already knowing the coke will be his. "You want the coke?" Calum asks with a chuckle. "Mmm, you are smart after all. I'll send you an address, make sure you bring it there in 48 hours. I don't think Ms. Sunshine over here is going to last longer than that. 48 hours, all of it. Don't try to screw me over, 'cause your little girlfriend won't have as much fun as we will do." "How do I know she is still alive?" Calum asks. He just wants to hear her voice, even just for a second. "Oh, now you care for her status?" "Just put her on the phone." Calum demands but Roman scoffs. "Oh. It's not up to me. I don't think she wants to talk with you after your little menage a trois. Ballsy, though, I have to admit. Fucking two women while she gathered her stuff. It's not a surprise she has already given up. Time is passing, Hood. 48 hours. Tick tock, tick tock." And the line goes dead.

"Find where he holds her." Calum turns to Travis, before kicking his armchair repeatedly, angrily, pretending in his head that he is kicking Roman to death.

-

"He is not as smart as he thinks he is." Travis announces as he shows his boss a picture of a building. "You found her?" Calum asks him hopefully. He will cover Travis in gold if he tells him he knows where (Y/N) is. "I think so. We could trace the drive through street cameras. They used a busy street to move her. Up to a point, we could see the car, then it disappeared. But we looked at the abandoned buildings within a 5-mile radius. We found them through satellite pictures. They have her here. I send a few guys to do a drive-by, see any strange motion." "If they have her there, there will be carnage. I don't care who is killed, kill them all. I just want her back home to me, Travis. If a hair off her head is hurt, I will burn it all to the ground." "If she is not there?" "We give them what they want. I don't care about anything else but her. I just need her back here. I need her here with me so I can keep her safe." He admits and Travis nods, patting his boss's back. "We'll bring her home, boss." He assures him.

-

(Y/N)'s heartbeat picked up when she saw a man walking into the room she is kept. The first man who came in without a mask since they brought her here. "Fuck..." She mumbles under her breath, but the man hears her and chuckles. "Why the curse word, Ms. sunshine? Are you so disappointed to see me?" The man asks, towering well over her. "Who are you? What do you want from me?" She asks; she is tired, and she hasn't slept at all while she has been here. She can't, she has tried to but she is too uncomfortable. The man sighs and shrugs his shoulders. "It doesn't matter who I am. Your boyfriend already agreed to my terms... The less you know, the better." "It doesn't matter. Calum only agreed to buy himself some time. He won't give you anything. He doesn't care. I have been telling your guys." "Oh, but I think he is going to pay up. We have been treating you well this far, haven't we? He would hate to see that change..." "I know you are going to kill me..." She retorts, making the man look at her with a furrow on his brow and his head tilted to the side. "What makes you think of that?" Roman asks, curious to see her reasoning. "You came in here with no mask. You wouldn't risk me giving a description to the police once I'd be freed. So, you are going to get what you want from Calum, if it ever gives it to you, and then you are going to hand over a dead body..." She describes, the glimpse of her state from the polaroid flashing in her brain. Roman chuckles, gripping her chin and looking down on the woman. He forces his thumb into her mouth, making her cough from the shock. "You won't be able to talk with your tongue cut off, will you?" He asks her, and for a moment, (Y/N) believes he means it. Roman laughs and pulls his hand away, looking at the shivering mess (Y/N) has turned into. "I am only joking of course. For now. I found you once, I can find you again if you open your stupid mouth. And then I won't be so lenient." The man sounds serious, and he looks ready for anything.

And now (Y/N) is seriously done with her life. She will never be safe again, she will never be able to live a normal life. She can run, but she cannot hide. So she has to pray for her death, with all her courage.

-

"I still think you should have stayed back home." Travis comments as they approach the building (Y/N) is held in. "We both know that wouldn't happen." Calum replies. When Travis told him yesterday where they keep (Y/N), Calum's first urge was to burst into this place and pick her up himself. Travis had to keep him to his sense and remind him that they would need to prepare well and that it would be ideal to take out Roman as well, get done with him once and for all. Calum's people had already seen him twice going to the building, once in the morning and once at night, so they gathered all men they could find and talked about their plan. The only thing Calum managed to tell his men before Travis took over was that (Y/N) had to return to him unharmed. And his men all agreed, not that they could have done else how. Calum was a feral beast backed into the corner, no one would dare go against his wishes.

So, on Roman's night visit to the abandoned building, they dressed in all black, girded on as many guns as they could, and braced themselves for the bloodbath that would ensue. The goal was crystal clear; kill all, kill Roman, and bring (Y/N) home unharmed.

(Y/N) has been trying to make herself fall asleep, despite the uncomfortable position she has been sitting in since she was brought in. She can no longer feel her legs, which is terrifying to think of, so she has decided to close her eyes and rest, so she won't have to think about what is happening to her. It is a futile effort, no one could ever sleep like that, so (Y/N) is startled by the loud noises outside the room. Loud voices, followed by gunshots, so many gunshots. (Y/N) realizes she is nearing her death, she will die on this chair, she will never feel her limbs again. She will die like this, ingloriously, because the man she loved has feuds all over. Fuck, she owes it to herself to be honest to herself one last time. The man she loves, the man who hurt her irreparably, the man who became the center of her existence. She still loves Calum, with all her heart, despite the time that has passed, despite everything he has done to her. She chuckles to herself; she is fucked up. She should hate Calum, she should curse the day she met him, but she can't help but have a shrivel of hope that the one causing this commotion is Calum, barging in here to save her.

The door opens with a loud bang, and the lightbulb over her head lights up, giving the room a ray of light. (Y/N) sees a man, one of her captors she assumes, now without his balaclava, pointing his gun at her. (Y/N)'s heart stops; the man's hand is shaking. "Time to grant you your wish, bitch." The man states, pulling the trigger. She doesn't have enough time to realize where the bullet hit her. Everything goes black for her, and she falls with her back on the floor, along with the chair she is sitting on.

Calum follows the man who seems to rush away through the chaos. Roman was arrogant enough to not bring many men, so most of them scattered for their life when they saw Calum and his men barge in.

Calum's instinct kicked in when he saw one of the men rushing downstairs. He could not tell why exactly, but the first thing that popped into his mind was that he would lead him to his (Y/N).

And now, standing in the doorway of where (Y/N) has spent the past 5 days, seeing the man who has just shot the love of his life before his eyes, the only thing he wants to do is bash that man's face in, watch his blood paint the floor. Nevertheless, he suffices to putting a bullet through his skull and rushing to (Y/N), hoping he is not too late.

-

Travis walks into the recovery room (Y/N) is post-op. Calum has not moved an inch from her bedside since she got out of surgery. "Hey. Did she wake up?" Travis asks, handing his boss a cup of coffee. Calum runs his hand down his face, shaking his head. "Not yet. The doc said she was worn out and she needs more rest to recover." He replies, running his thumb over the back of (Y/N)'s hand. Travis reaches inside his jacket, taking out some polaroids for Calum "I think she will need to see this when she wakes up." Travis taps his pointer finger on the first photo. Calum takes a look, seeing a picture of Roman, with blood spilling from his mouth and a wound on his chest. Calum swallows harshly, flexing his jaw as he lets the realization sink in. The person who hurt (Y/N) is dead gone, no longer a threat. "I don't want her to see this." Calum states, handing the photos back to his friend. "I am not exposing her to any more violence. She has had enough for a lifetime." Calum states, looking at the woman he loves laying in the hospital bed, wounded and spent, and it is all his fault. "You should get some rest. I can stay with her for a couple of hours so you can sleep, shower, and eat something. She is still going to be here when you get back." Travis suggests, but Calum doesn't even want to think about it. He wants to be the first person she sees when she opens her eyes, so he can assure her she is safe now, hug her and tell her how sorry he is, for everything. Then he will tell her he will always keep her safe and he will never again turn her away. He will tell her how much he loves her and then he will stay with her until the end of time.

Of course, Calum didn't take into consideration the possibility that (Y/N) might not want to see him ever again.

She opens her eyes 3 days after the operation. Disoriented and confused, she can hear her breathing loud in her ears. All she can see is the white ceiling which she somehow associates with the description of the torture room of a twitted opthalmologist from a German thriller she once read. She groans, her eyes fluttering open and shut as she turns her head to the side to check her surroundings. There is a figure at her bedside, someone who is still blurry but (Y/N) can already tell who is.

"Where am I?" She asks, her voice raspy and muffled by her oxygen mask. Calum raises his head from the mattress, his heart pumping faster at the sound of her voice. In any other case, he would laugh at how her voice sounds like Darth Vader's, but now he just wants to tear up from the happiness of hearing her again. "(Y/N) ... Shit, don't move, you are hooked to a lot of things..." Calum rushes to say, making sure she doesn't make any abrupt moves. "What happened?" She asks as Calum comes into her sight. "You were abducted and shot. We are in a private surgical unit, you had surgery in your abdomen to fix the bullet wound, and you have been sleeping for 3 days. The doctor said you were exhausted and you need more time to recover. Baby..." He wants to tell her he is sorry, he wants to tell her she is safe now, that he will protect her with all his power. He wants to tell her that he loves her.

But (Y/N) removes the oxygen mask so she is heard loudly and clearly. "Leave." She demands, her eyes glazed with tears. "(Y/N), baby, please..." He tries to soften her, but her teary eyes make him feel like the most awful person in the world. "Leave." Her breathing is irregular, short, and rushed and he can tell he is upsetting her, he is hurting her once more. "Ok, ok...I am leaving. I am leaving." Calum surrenders, picking up his things from the end table.

It's not the time nor the place for him to make amends. He wants her to heal, physically and mentally first, it is all that matters to him.

(Y/N's POV)

"Good afternoon, Ms. (Y/N)." The driver that used to drive me to and from work is standing at the door of my recovery room. I sigh, folding a t-shirt and throwing it into my duffel bag. "Hello there." I smile awkwardly, waiting to see what the man wants. Calum has left a myriad of men behind him, making sure I have what I need. He hasn't yet dared to show up here, which I assume is a good thing... "Whenever you are ready, we can leave. The car is already at the entrance." He says in a polite, merry way. "I have already called an Uber." I reply, picking up my phone, which Travis made sure to replace after my device was destroyed during the kidnapping. "Mr. Hood gave me clear instructions to take you home and make sure you are settled in without problems. And your doctor suggested you take it easy until you fully recover." "Tell Mr. Hood I can take care of myself. I have been doing that for a while now." I reply, zipping up my duffel and checking my phone to see how much longer I should wait for my Uber. "Ms. (Y/L/N), please... I will get in serious trouble if I don't follow this order. Please." He begs. "Not really my problem, is it?" I feel bad for saying that, it's not really my character. "Please, (Y/N). He is already furious at everyone for what happened. Please." He sounds genuinely scared which -knowing Calum,- is understandable. "Fine. I'll cancel my ride." I sigh, giving up. The man smiles and walks in to pick up my bag. A ride back home won't hurt, I guess.

"Wait, this doesn't seem like we are heading downtown." I comment and the driver sighs. "Please, do not panic. Mr. Hood has asked to see you." He replies, looking at me through the rear-view mirror. "I should have left you to face his wrath..." I mumble, sitting back on my seat with my arms crossed before my chest. "I am sorry." The driver states and all I do is shake my head. Seeing Calum one last time is not ideal, but it might be what I need to end this chapter.

It is not easy for me to be back in this house. There is a horrible taste in my mouth from the moment I entered the premises, and I can't help but dig my nails into my forearm as I walk towards the balcony. Clearly, I don't want to be here, no matter how much I have missed this place, no matter how much I have missed how things were with Calum. It is just impossible for me to forget my very last moments in this house.

Calum is sitting on the balcony, a light lunch laid before him on the table. He looks like he has been counting the seconds until I arrived, he is agitated and he has been drumming his fingers on the table, up until he realizes I am here. He almost jumps up to his feet, quickly rushing to me without a word. "Thank you for coming." He says after a moment of just scanning me from head to toe. "I didn't have much of a choice. Your driver basically kidnapped me." I reply, moving to take a seat away from his. "It was the only way to get you here, I am sorry." He states, running his hand down his face. "Did anyone even think that I might feel uncomfortable with not knowing where I am headed? Or that I might have gotten triggered by having no control over it?" I ask, fidgeting with my fitness tracker. The doctor told me that I should keep track of my heart rate since it was low post-op, so this little gadget has been strapped on my wrist for the past few days. It is pretty uncomfortable, I am still not used to it. "I can't get anything right lately, can I?" Calum sighs, bringing a plate before me. "Why am I here, Calum?" I ask. This is the first time we are in the same room, we are having a conversation since the breakup. Well, there was that time at the hospital, but I cannot say I was very aware of everything that was happening. "I am not hungry." I push the plate away. "You should be eating well if you want to heal faster." He is looking at me lucky a puppy left in the rain, which is unfair, and dirty on his side. I am the fucking victim here, he has no business trying to make me sympathize with him. "Well, it is not your concern anymore. I am capable of taking care of myself. Why am I here?" I ask, pressing my tongue against my cheek. "I wanted to see you." Calum is looking at his fingers, picking at his cuticles as he mumbles the phrase. "Unbelievable." I shake my head, getting up from my chair. "(Y/N), please, wait... Shit, just listen to me for a moment." He gets up as well, blocking me from moving further away from the table. "Listen to what? What else do you have to say?" I ask him. "The man who ordered your abduction is dead. So are the men who were keeping you. I put a bullet through the skull of the man who shot you. No one is going to hurt you again, baby. I am not letting anyone hurt you again. I promise you that, princess. I promise you you are safe. I am going to do everything that is in my power to help you feel safe again." He reaches to stroke my cheek, his touch making me jolt almost as if I am hit by electricity. I move away, barely able to hold my tears anymore. "Safe? Safe, really? You want me to believe this bullshit? Where were you while I was captured? Where were you when they were hitting me? Where were you when I couldn't feel my legs, when that creep threatened to cut off my tongue? Where were you when I was begging them to put me out of my misery? I was begging them to kill me, Calum. And you are telling me you are going to do everything in your power to help me feel safe? Fuck. You." I scream; I am done holding back, I am done being quiet about what I went through. Calum stares at me with a shock on his face, certainly not expecting me to admit to begging for my death.

"(Y/N), I am so sorry." He manages to say, touching my arm to comfort me. "Don't fucking touch me. And you know what, Calum? How am I supposed to trust you, to believe this promise you are giving me today when you have broken all your other promises to me?" I ask him. My watch begins beeping, signaling my heart rate is very high. "I don't want to be here anymore. Please, let me go." I sniffle, shaking down to my core. I want to go home and hopefully never see him again.

Calum moves aside, letting me walk back inside the house, from where I rush to the front door without paying attention to the voice of Travis who is rushing behind me.

-

Of course, I didn't expect him to give up on me easily. For the past 2 months, I have returned more jewelry, designer gifts, and meals than I can remember. Every day he sends something different, one more impressive than the other as if I was ever impressed by material things. I have managed to maintain my dignity, if we excuse the time I stomped on the bouquet he sent me, right in the middle of the florist shop I am working at. But seriously, who sends a lackey to buy flowers from the store I am working at and then sends the same lackey to deliver the same flowers, with a ridiculously cheesy card? Fuck that, of course, I snapped, anyone would have.

I don't know if it would have been better if he tried to approach me personally. I don't know if my reaction would be calmer if he came and saw me, face to face, with the guts he claims he has. I think I would at least appreciate the courage. But I haven't seen him in 2 months, and my anger has only been boiling inside me. I would be lying if I said I don't think of him, or that I don't miss him. There are nights that I can only bring myself to sleep if I picture I am sleeping in his arms. I even bought a bottle of his favorite perfume, or better said, my favorite perfume of his. He still is the love of my life, even if I am not his. Just at the thought of someone else touching me, I get hives. It is pointless, so pointless to deny that I am looking for a good reason, a good chance to run back to him, but my ego and the sense of self-preservation keep me back.

"Ms. (Y/L/N)?" A young man asks me as he walks to the cashier of the florist shop. "That's me." I reply, sighing as he shows me a tablet and touch pen for my signature. "I have this envelope for you. It requires a signature." He states with a soft smile. I sigh, throwing my head back. "Take it back to your boss and tell him I don't want anything from him." I might sound a tad bit too dismissive, but the man looks at me with a confused look. "I am sorry, miss. This was delivered to us this morning and it has no return address. Are you going to receive it?" He asks me, still holding out the tablet for me. I sigh, reaching in my purse for a couple of bucks to tip him before I sign and get handed the envelope. "Thank you, miss. Have a nice day." He smiles and walks out of the door, making the little bell that hangs above the door chime at his exit.

I pick up the manila envelope, looking at it with my lips pursed. "Everything ok?" The girl that works part-time asks me. Since the kidnap and my meltdown, my boss insisted there are always two people in the store, either her or the part-timer. "I need 5-minutes." I point at the back of the shop, and the girl nods at me. "Of course, take your time." She is too polite, way more than I would be in her case.

I rush to the back, leaning against the counter as I tear up the top of the envelope. It is just papers inside, a couple of them that will certainly take more than 5 minutes to make sense of.

I take a look at the first paper on the stack, a photo of a house, a Mediterranean-style villa with a beautiful front yard suitable for planting flowers and trees, and all the things I always wanted. It is confusing; what am I supposed to understand from that?

I leave the picture aside, revealing the second piece of paper, which is an ownership deed, with my name on it, and all my information, lacking only my signature and notarization. My hand flies to my mouth as I realize that I almost own this house, this beautiful house that I could only dream of in my most euphoric dreams. "Fuck you, Hood." I mumble through greeted teeth. This, this is going to be the thing I will struggle the most with rejecting, but I'll be damned if he thinks I will run back to him because he got me a house. I mean, who does that? What normal human being buys their ex a house as a hopeful reconciliation gift?

I gather the papers and my stuff, taking off and leaving my apron behind. "I need to go. Can you manage on your own?" I ask the girl who nods empathetically. "I will call Evelyn. Are you alright?" She asks me and I shrug. "I will be." I reply, exiting the shop.

Across the store, in the most ridiculously obvious way possible, there is a black SUV with 2 guys inside. It has been parked there every day since I started working again and at first, it made me shitless paranoid, until I recognized one of the guys from the hospital. All the while I stayed there, Calum had an army of guards outside my door, to "discreetly" guard me. Up to now, I pretended I didn't see them, paid them no mind, but today that changes. I knock on the driver's window, making the man roll it down a smidge. "Take me to your boss. " I demand and the man looks at me in totally pretend confusion. "I am sorry, I don't think I understand you." He says, looking at the other man for backup. "Oh, come on. You were in the house the day Calum was shot. And you were guarding me in the hospital. So please cut the crap and take me to wherever Calum is." I am not even trying to be polite about it, it is not on my priorities for the time being. "Get in the backseat." The driver sighs, tilting his head to invite me in. "Do you need anything? It is a long ride." The man asks me. "Just drive." I take out the documents from the envelope, dedicated to studying them before reaching the destination.

It takes a little over an hour to reach the destination, and nearly halfway through, I knew we were heading to Malibu. The car stops before a gate, one which it would be impossible for someone random to get through. It is the familiar security check to get through, the same as back in Calum's house.

The moment I get off the car, I see that the front yard is transformed from the picture that is in my envelope. It is full of freshly planted flowers, and a big, cozy hammock hangs from 2sterdy trees. "What have you done, Hood?" I mutter to myself with a heavy heart. It is all I've ever dreamed of and a bit more.

"Hello (Y/N), it's good to see you again... Calum is in the back." Travis welcomes me into the house, pointing toward a big balcony window. "Good to see me again? I thought you couldn't wait for Calum to find another glorified cum dumpster so you wouldn't have to put up with me anymore." I reply, folding my arms before my chest. Travis remains quiet for a moment, tilting his head to the side as he looks at me. "I am sorry. Truly, I am. You should go see Calum, he is on the balcony." He says after a moment. I bite the inside of my cheek, fidgeting with my fingers as I try to decide between turning around and leaving this place forever, or heading to the back to confront Calum. "Does he know I am here?" I ask but I know Travis won't kiss and tell so easily. "Go see him. Please." It is all he says. I sigh and close my eyes, bracing to see him once again.

The interior of the house is almost as beautiful as the exterior, simple and calming, with creme couches and wooden floors. It looks like something out of a Pinterest board, and the more I am in, the more at home I feel.

I exit the window and find myself on the balcony, which allows me to see the backyard and the majestic view of the Malibu beach. This is my dream house, the house that I always saw in my head when I thought of my future with Calum.

"You came." Calum's voice catches my attention, right as I began getting lost in my daydream. "Had you planned for all of these to happen? Is this some sort of a wicked game of yours, to taunt me into remembering my dreams with you?" I ask him. He is sitting casually on a little couch, a cozy little nook that will probably serve as the best place to watch the sunset. "When you love someone, you know their reactions, you know what to expect from them." He replies, leaving his little cup of coffee down. He stands up, facing me for the first time in what feels like forever. "Please... Calum, you don't love me. You've proved it when you fucked those 2 women in front of me. You didn't even stop to try and make an excuse for yourself. You didn't even stop when I was gathering my stuff to leave. This is your love, Calum? Because it sounds like a very fucked up definition of love." "I love you with all my being. I wanted you to hate me so much that you would have no choice but leave me. I thought you would be safe away from me, that you wouldn't be hurt by this life. But I was so wrong, so wrong my love." "This is empty talk, Calum. Why should I trust you? Why should I listen to anything you say?" I ask him, tears threatening to spill from my eyes as I listen to him. My heart wants to believe him, oh it wants it so badly, but my logic forbids me, it forbids me by bringing up all those violently awful memories. "You are right. You are absolutely right. This is the last I will bother you. The house is yours. I will make sure you have security here. I want you to keep it, live here, and build the life we always dreamt of building with someone who will love you. But before you throw me out, please listen to me, one last time. After that, if you want me gone, I will be gone. You won't hear from me again, not unless you want to. Just listen to me, one last time, for 5 minutes, no more than that." "Ok, 5 minutes. I can give you that much." I reply, leaving down the envelope I have been holding for the past hour.

"I lost half my life when they told me you were abducted. I wanted to burn the city to the ground, knock down every door myself until I would find you. And then I lost all hope when I saw you bleeding in that room. I wanted to put a bullet through my skull, and take myself out because a life knowing you are dead is not worth living. I was the one who carried you out of that place, you know. I took the shirt the man who shot you was wearing and I pressed it onto your wound, and I carried you out, and I promised you..." He stips to sniffle and pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to pull himself together. For some reason, for some fucked up reason, I understand him. When I saw him with a gun wound in his arm, all I wanted to do is rip the shooter's head off. It must have been even worse for him, seeing me passed out, worn out, halfway dead. "I promised you that I would fix everything if you didn't die in my arms that day. I promised you I would prove my love to you all over again if you opened those beautiful eyes of yours and looked at me again. At the hospital, I was barely functional. I think I threatened the surgeon I would cement him if he didn't fix you if he didn't bring you back to me. When he brought you out of the surgical room, and he told me you would recover just fine, I hugged him, thanked him, and swore I would cover his hands in gold. You were alive, and that's all that mattered to me. I stayed with you while you were sleeping after the surgery, I held your hand so I wouldn't lose my fucking mind. It tore me apart when you told me to leave, but the last thing I wanted to do was upset you, so I sufficed to learn about you from the intel I left there, and from your doctor, who probably took pity on me. We've worked with him in the past, he usually treats whoever is shot without calling the police, but he hates my fucking guts, so I must have looked really desperate for him to pity me. I am not even sure why I am telling you all that. I don't know what to tell you, I hoped that inspiration would strike me once I began letting it out, but you are standing here, looking at me with the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, and I remember I was the person who made those eyes cloudy with tears, I was the person responsible for almost shutting those beautiful eyes forever. I look at you and I remember I've hurt you and it is fucking difficult for me to forgive myself, how can I ever expect that from you?" He asks me, but the question is rhetorical. Is it bad that I don't want him to stop talking? Is it bad that I want to keep listening to his voice until the end of time? Fuck, I never stood a chance, did I? "I don't know why I am telling you all this when I should be telling you I love you. I love you. Please believe me when I say I have never loved nor ever will love anyone the way and as much as I love you."

"How did you find out I was taken?" I ask, deciding it is futile to hold back my tears. "From the moment you left that night, I had people checking in you were safe, every night. Every night I was hearing if you were alright, home, safe. I dreaded the day they would tell me you were with someone new, but I had to know you were ok, even if you were away from me. All I ever wanted was for you to be safe. I told you, I ever did what I did to turn you away from your safety. The moment you left, those women were gone. At the thought of anyone else but you touching me, I get hives. I love you with all my fucking heart, (Y/N). I never stopped, even for a moment. And I don't think I'll ever do." He admits, and I can hear it in his voice that he means it. He means it, he loves me. "That's all. My 5 minutes are up." He sighs, and then deathly silence comes between us. I can hear the waves at the beach, even from that far, it is that silent. Calum walks closer to me, leaning down to peck the top of my head before moving to get through the balcony window and back into the house.

For a couple of seconds, I am all alone, and it is the worst fucking feeling in the world. I don't want anything else in the world but him. He loves me, and I love him, and I am not going to deny happiness to myself anymore.

"Cal..." I shout behind him, getting inside the house as well. He turns around to look at me immediately, and my chest becomes heavy, my breath almost not coming out. "Don't go. Don't leave me." I beg him, not thinking of anything else but falling into his arms. Calum smiles peacefully at me, staring at me for a moment before walking toward me. "I am never, ever leaving you again. I promise you that, princess." He cradles my face in his hands softly, almost as if he is trying to test whether I am real or not, whether this is a dream and I'll dissolve to nothing at his touch or I am his again, in flesh and bone.

I decide to end this torture for both of us and lean in to kiss him, standing on my tiptoes to meet his lips. His arm wraps around me almost instantly, keeping me close to his body, not breaking the kiss, not yet. I don't know how long it has been since our last kiss, since I last felt him so close to me.

"I love you." I admit, whispering it against his lips. My fingertips graze his cheek softly, feeling the warmth of his skin under my touch. "I love you. I love you..." He repeats, holding me as close to his body as he can. "I've missed you, Calum... I missed you more than I was letting myself realize." I state, feeling my heart flutter as he lifts my chin up with his fingertips. "I have missed you just as much, my love. I don't know how I lasted that long without you." He leans in for a kiss again, making my knees weak at how soft he is with me. "I want you, Calum. I am craving you." I mumble against his lips. I can feel a tightness in the pit of my stomach, a so familiar knot that I haven't felt in so long. "Now?" He asks me and I hum, nodding my head. "Now. Please." I assure him, but he is still holding back. "We don't have to do this straight away. We can wait for as long as you need." He strokes a piece of hair behind my ear, looking down at me softly. "Please. I need you. I can't wait any longer." I know it sounds rushed, I know it is practically seconds after we admitted our feelings, but if I wait any longer, I am going to explode. I need him, all of him. I need to know we are still alright, still made only for each other. And this will be the last reassurance I will need. "If you don't want me..." I stutter, realizing that I might be bringing him to a tough spot. "Princess... You have no idea how much I have been wanting to press you against a wall and make you mine again..." He whispers with a chuckle, searching for the hem of my polo shirt.

"Still hate this with my all." He mumbles, lifting the garment over my head. "Some things never change." I reply, just as Calum brings his lips to mine. Fimble fingers make their way down my waist, looking to unbutton my jeans. "Jesus... You still have the softest skin." Calum mumbles, lowering his mouth to my jaw and meeting my sweet spot. Then he moves down to my neck, passing his tongue over my collarbone before lowering himself to my breasts, grazing the sensitive skin with both his fingertips and his lips. He moves the straps of my bra from my shoulders, lowering the cups to free my breasts. "Shit..." He mouths, running his thumbs over my nipples. "Cal..." I purr, desperate and on the edge by the teasing. He reaches behind my back, unclasping my bra and letting it fall onto the floor between us. "Someone's got goosebumps..." He whispers, kneeling before me and lowering my jeans, all the way down my legs until I step out of them. "Calum..." I groan, throwing my head back as he runs his fingertip under the hem of my underwear He kisses the soft part of my inner thigh, looking up at me with a smirk before he pushes my panties aside. "What, princess? What is it?" He asks me, bringing two fingers to my entrance. "Oh, honey... You are so wet. Look at that." He rubs his fingers across my slit, making me shiver at his touch. "Do you think it is the time to tease me?" "It is always the time to tease. Especially since I've missed how your perfect lip quivers when I do." He retorts, rubbing the tip of his finger over my entrance in circles. "Cal..." I protest, already pulsing around nothing. "Oh, shit. Fuck, I need you." He groans, getting off the floor and picking me up along with him. I wrap my legs around his waist, resting my hands on each side of his neck.

"The couch is very comfortable, you are going to love it." He comments, leaving me gently on the soft cushioning and leaning down closer to me to kiss me. I reach down to find the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it off of him, only breaking our kiss to take the garment off. My hand travels down his body, reaching the waistband of his jeans. I feel the lower part of his abdomen, making him twitch at the sensation. I slip inside his jeans, my fingers wrapping around his cock. "Oh, God..." I moan, feeling how hard he is. His cock is throbbing in my hand, and my stomach tightens at the remembrance of how good he felt inside me. "I need you inside me... Now. Please, I am begging you." I cry out, looking at him with pleading eyes. He hums, pulling my panties down by the waistband. "You are still mine, aren't you? After all this time you are still mine..." He asks, freeing his cock from his jeans. I stir underneath him, unable to keep still from the excitement. He rubs the tip of his cock along my slit, focusing on my clit and watching my breath hitch as he strokes it.

"Cal..." I cry out as he slips his cock inside me. My eyes shut as he slides in, inch by inch filling me up. His free hand rests on my cheek, his thumb stroking my bottom lip. "Say you are mine. Please, tell me you are mine." His voice is raspy, so sexy that goosebumps rise on my skin. "I am yours, Calum. I am yours." I reply, cradling his face in my hand. He moves his hips against mine, driving his cock deeper inside me and taking my breath away. "You feel so good. You feel so good, my love. My love. Mine, mine, mine." He breathes out, moving against me, thrusting in me slowly but with force. It is slow and mellow, and the sweetest he has ever fucked me. I can feel myself squeeze around him, a little in shock at how good he still feels inside me. It is like we are still in sync, after all this time, we are still in perfect harmony with one another. "Cal..." I cry out softly, bucking my hips up to meet him. "I know, I know... I can feel you." He murmurs, looking at me in the eye. I can feel everything else numb out, my eyes locking on his as he thrusts inside me, making me shiver. My stomach tightens, more heat spreading all over my body the deeper he goes. "Fuck me... Fuck fuck fuck." I moan, pressing my nails in my palm. He has found the perfect spot, the one that makes my brain fuzzy, that makes me curl my toes. "You have to be quiet, baby. We don't need anyone interrupting us." He chuckles, slamming his hips on mine with force. It is like he is doing it on purpose, like he enjoys watching me in bliss. "I don't care. I don't care, just fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." I cry out, arching my back and rolling my hips against his. "I am fucking you, princess. I am fucking your perfect, little, tight pussy. Listen to that... Can you hear how wet you are?" He asks me, his breathing getting caught in the back of his throat. "Calum, please." I whimper, bringing my hand to the back of his head, pulling at his hair as he pounds me. My leg moves to his waist, hoisting on his hip from proximity, and trying to get more of him. "Please what? What does my princess need?" He asks, pressing his forehead against mine. I can feel his lips brush against mine, his breath fanning on my skin.

"I need to cum... Please, let me cum." I whimper, trying to reach his lips. He coos at me, his hand moving down my thigh to grip on it for more force. "My girl needs to cum around my cock... Mm, fuck. You need to cum around me, princess." He taunts me, slamming inside me with his all. I need to bite onto something or else I'll be heard by every single person within a mile radius. "Oh fuck, that's a pretty neck you've got there... Pity if someone marked it." He leaves a peck on my bottom lip, before heading south to find my neck, digging his teeth into my skin. "Calum!" I sing in pleasure, my hair standing straight on my skin. "Cum inside me. Cum inside me, please." I beg, coming undone around him. There is a moment of brief, pure bliss, the only thing in my mind being how good this feels, how good we are together. "Shit, princess. So close... I'm so close to filling you up." He groans, gripping down my hips to keep me from squirming. "Cal, I can't... I whimper, jolting at every thrust. It is too much, the overstimulation nearly driving me towards insanity. "Look how good you take my cock. Fuck, we'll just have to do this all day, everywhere in the house. Shit." He groans, gluing his hips on mine as he cums inside me.

I just focus on his face, flustered and tensed, just the prettiest sight I've ever seen. He doesn't move an inch from me for as long as it takes him to catch his breath. I just touch his cheek softly, running my thumb over his warm skin in short circles. "I am never going to get enough of you, am I?" He asks me, lowering his head to peck my forehead. "I hope you don't." I reply, feeling a smile spreading on my lips. "I don't want to move from here." He sighs, turning his head to kiss the palm of my hand which is still on his cheek. "You'll have to, eventually."I chuckle and he hums in disagreement. "I don't think so... The couch seems pretty comfortable." He replies, swiftly turning us so he is now on his back and I am laying on his chest. His hand traces down my ribs, softly and carefully making his way to the place I was shot, atop my abdomen. "You've healed nicely." He comments in a whisper, his fingertips tracing the fading wound. "I am trying to forget about the whole thing and having to see it in the mirror is not really helpful. So I am slathering it with healing cream all the time." I reply, leaving a peck on his chest. My eyes land on a small detail on his skin, something that looks like a new addition to his collection of tattoos. "Is this one new?" I ask, passing my thumb over the little sunflower on his left pec. "Relatively. I got it after the breakup. Since I couldn't have you in my life, I wanted a little something of you on me all the time." He replies, making me bring my gaze to meet his.

The sun is setting on us, the sunlight that washes the room from the big balcony window casting beautiful shadows on our bodies. Calum is breathing calmly, his chest moving at every breath he takes in, almost in sync with my breathing. He is still glistening with a little glaze of sweat on his skin, his body warm, pleasant against mine. I am falling for him, but who am I kidding? I never stopped falling for him, for a man I have no business falling with. He is dangerous, but also in danger, I know that firsthand at this point. But how dangerous the man holding me with so much love can be?

My Masterlist / My Ko-Fi

[brainr0t-landfill]

Dolette

Captain John Price x Fem Reader

‼️t.w: sleazy price, intoxicated reader, gun, kidnapping, simp reader

a.n:this reader was originally written as trans fem but it's rather vauge which is why it was tagged fem reader, she is mentioned to be tall

"There's something messed up about a slow night, slow night." -Ayesha Erotica, Just Wanna Go Out

The bar is crowded, which is exactly what you were hoping for.

You came on a friday night after all, rushed out of work to shave, bursh your hair and put on your best skirt, layered, easy in the breeze because bars are always so stuffy aren't they?

You slip through a giggling couple to make it inside, it's all plastic banana leaves and flashing lights, some screechy remix playing, pounding it's way into your skull. Not the kind of place, you reckon, the kind of men you fancy would be, but you've gotta start somewhere and this is as good a place as any. 

Practice round, you tell yourself, Practice round. 

All you have to do is stand in that corner, don't panic don't make yourself look like a freak when you try to start up a conversation or two, order one virgin coke and rum and then you can run back home to your knitting and audio books. 

You grab at your hair and lift it to your nose, it doesn't smell bad, necessarily, but nothing does when there's so much alchol in the air, have you brushed our your curls? You didn't check in the mirror if you had razor burn! Your lips feel crusty, you bet your makeup is melting off in the heat. 

Can't be helped, you have to tell yourself, can't be helped. 

You notice him as you're digging through your purse for your Vaseline, he's six foot something and thick, dusty jeans straining at the thighs and working boots, you have to make a point of not staring at his arms, his chest, his shoulders. 

He's somone's divorced dad on that barstool, somone you could set your clock by 

You bet he's got tattoos, you bet he's got tanlines and scars with funny stories, you bet you're not his type of girl. 

You should talk to him anyways, you say to yourself. Exposure theraphy or whatever. You think as you watch him chat with somone, his voice doesn't carry over, he'd probably appreciate some friendly chatting if you can just be fucking normal for a few minutes. 

You walk over to the bar rubbing against sweaty strangers and getting bumped about, someone spills their long island tea or dirty martini and it stains the bows of your pretty ivory flats, you hope it'll wash out.

It squelches against the linoleum flooring. 

It smells like hell, everything is itchy, it's becoming painfully apperant that the ballet flats were the wrong choice you're at least glad you wore a thin, long skirt otherwise you would've in boiled here. 

The bar too is sticky, made of some synthetic wood cover, the cracked pattern repeating over and over ahain every few hands, the bar stool is even sticker when you sit down nect to the stranger gathering your skitt and pressing your knees together, thank god you didn't wear your mini skirt.

You wave at the bartender who's busy wiping off a shot glass. 

"Excuse me can i have a-"

"Got a light, pretty? "

Instantly you feel the cold sweat beading on your nape, your eyes stuck on your hands, even his voice is so good, gruff, deep there's no doubt he smokes. His beard js trimmed, thick at the chops and rough. 

He taps his fingers against the bartop and no ring is all you can think. 

"You good? "

You take a deep breath before digging into your stuffed purse pulling out a old scratched up lighter with little pink flamingos on it. 

"Ye-yeah, I do. Here, sorry! "

You try to keep your voice soft, high. 

He holds his cigar out and you have to stare at the fragrant cigar as your sweaty fingers stumble with the flint. 

"Eyes up here dolly, let me see whos helping me out hmm?"

You obey im a second and chide yourself, god he's a looker, all beady blue eyes and coarse, you bet you would smell like cologne if he got a little closer, you bet it's a couple grand a bottle. 

"Pretty lighter for a pretty doll. "

"T-thank you, I uhmm, Mr...?"

"Jonathan, Jonathan Price. Call me John though."

You stammer out your name as he gives you a once over, you feel like sausage in your tube top, cold sweat running down your back,hands clammy and sticky suddenly you're painfully aware of your chipped nailpolish, of your trembling fingers. 

"What brings you out tonight? "

"oh well it's a friday, isn't it? "

He smiles, teeth yellow with tabacco, whitish tounge. 

His eyes crinkle, he's got chubby cheeks. 

"Without a drink, dolly?"

He asks, lips curled around the cigar 

"Oh no, no, no I'm a real lightweight!"

He laughs, so you laugh it's boisterous, loud, like he wants everyone at the bar to know you're funny, he's entrtained. 

"Oh c'mon, such a pretty lady and y'not gonne let me buy you no drink? Even after y'helped me? "

You're nodding halfway through, bashfull, sheepish as a lamb you think if he talks long enough he might talk you into anything. 

"What d'ya lile pretty? "

He leans back in the stool, the wood creaks under his mass, the rough jean of his knee brushes against your skirt and you wish you'd worn the mini skirt just to feel his skin against yours. 

"Hmm... sweets? "

He chukles around his cigar, taps it onto a glass ashtray. 

"Course y'do, course y'do!"

You smile despite yourself, he's so charming. The kind of guy that's so big, boisterous,so effortlessly large and commanding the kind of guy that fills bar stools and doorways and other things. 

He motions to the barman gets his attention without a hitch. 

"Can i have a-"

"White rabbit for the doll, don't be shy on the vanilla mate, on me."

It throws you off a bit, but you clear your throat, better get it out before he covers the tab. 

"Listen I'm-"

"I know ,dolly"

"But- no you don't get it I can't exactly-"

He shakes his head, dissmess the fear that hangs over you and bites at your heels every moment like a garden snake. 

"So what'd ya do? "

You stare at him, trying to look polite and tilt your head. 

"For work, sweets."

"Oh- oh yeah huh! "

You slap your knee and giggle some, trying to feign comedy

"Teacher's assistant, local college"

He wolf whistles and hooks his arm around your shoulder, pulls you in close.

You feel paralyzed, floating

"Pretty and smart huh? Real tempting deal y'are. "

He chukles, chewing on the end of his cigar. 

"So y'work weekends? "

"Oh-oh no I'm free tomorrow but i wake up real early, grocery runs, stuff to print, house to clean, never run outta stuff to d-"

"I see a proper little lady, no one around to help hmm? "

"Ugh no, no. My own place, I can stay up ad long as i want!"

And bring home whoever I like, please please-

He chukles

"Atta girl, nothing lile home huh? Nice homecooked meal and a soft bed to lay ya head, I travel a lot for work m'self, so I appreciate those a lot y'know, y'make a mean steak doll? "

You chukle and pull at your necklace, some old thing from the thrift, suddenly too tight around your neck. 

"I can learn, I love me a good steak it's just hard to chew and I don't like...the smell."

He chukles wipes over his mustache, thanks the barmen, looks him straight in the eye as he hands you your drink. 

It baffles you, his skill, his talent at keeping the conversation going, smooth not a wrinkle you know you're not the reddest rose or the prettiest doll but here he is making you feel like one. 

He slides you the drink, murky, fluffy-white lilac topped with lavender and sweet peas, it looks like q drag queen next to his whiskey the stem of the Camilla glass cold amd delicate in your clammy hands. 

"its beautiful-"

"Tastes just as good as it looks, didn't buy it for ya to stare at it"

"you don't have to, my treat! Really! I insist-"

He dips his finger into the drink and holds it to your lips a tiny sweetpea balanced delicately on the pad pad his finger. 

"I- I was talki-"

He presses his finger to your lips and you open up obediently he drags the foam across your flat tounge, it's zesty, half bitter with some firm perfume to it, the flower sticks to your teeth. 

"Y'like it? "

He asks,two fingers resting in your mouth its not a question but you nod anyways. 

Heat flushes to your cheeks, anyone could see you like this, some man's finges in your mouth in the middle of a bar, you can swear there are trails of sweat running down your temples. 

You should pull back, there are good, solid, adult reasons to pull back,grab your purse and leave reasons like dignity, self control-

He pulls his finger out and pulls you close, kisses your cheek. 

"Glad ya lile it dolly, makes an ol'dog real happy when a pretty lady like y'appreciates the effort y'kno? "

You nod half mindedly the scrape of his beard and his arm around your waist making you dizzy as you reach for the delicate glass and take another sip.

"Nice perfume. "

He says

"O-oh yeah, Jasmine Rouge, Tom Ford-"

You cringe at your own words, he's gonna think you're rich, or elitist, or vain and he's not gonna call you again. 

"Big lady perfume for a little girl huh? How adorable"

"I am a big girl!"

And you are, probably as tall as him in your heels.

"I'm about-"

"I could tuck ya in a suitcase luv, shuddup.

He rolls his eyes and you smile the glass is so small in his hands, so shiney, carved glass like a star in his palm. 

He stares at you, expectant, patient you sip your drink again, can't let the conversation go dry. 

" Soo-"

You clear your throat trying to get your words in order. You're dizzy, slippery, consciousness swirling and swirling in a gkurry of flashing lights and his dizzying attention, your nape is wet with sweat. 

"What do you do for work? "

He smiles in a way that tells you je won't tell. 

"Wouldn't you wanna know?"

"A-any tatoos? "

He nods fox-grin spreading across his face

"Ya like em, I'll show y'real soon."

He smiles and he's all rudy from the heat, a vison of a man under the light, you smile back and laugh for no reason, almost tipping backwards. 

He catches you, pulls you into his chest. 

"It's a slow song."

He croons into your damp hair as he lifts the glass back to your lips, you gulp down a mouthfull the lavender buds get stuck to your lipstick. 

"Y-yeah, real slow"

"Wanna dance? "

By the time you two leave the club it's far past your usual curfew, your flats are sticky and slick with sweat but you don't care, tonight was magical as cliche as it is everything feels like a currated experience with him, everything is bright and easy on the eyes, every move is fluid and efortless, every toich is borh electric and familiar for once in your life you can dance, you can flirt, you can let him make you feel like all the other girls. 

"My feet hurt-"

You whine at him smiling ear to ear, when you teeter to one side he stills you two big hands on your shoulders if he's not carefull you'll get used to this, spoiled. 

Your head swims, eyes watery and throat full of cotton as you try to breath in the moist, crisp air, your tounge is dry enough to hurt. 

"Awww, that so bad pretty, where's your ride?"

You sway from side to side something in your cotton coated brain screaming warnings you cant translate. 

He taps your cheek when you don't answer. 

"Answer me."

He demands and it goes straight between your thighs, the hand at the small of your back the stern eyes staring down at you. 

"Took the buss."

You giggle and he starts dragging you along without saying a thing, to the side of the bar, his boots stomping against the wet ground he takes a couple keys out, sorts through them with a whistle as he walks up to a tan Chevy, you follow like he's magnetic. 

"No, no John, please just call me an uber, I'll throw up in your car-"

He scoffs without looking at you shoves his keys into the trucks door, tinted windows, it gives you a pause, something sharp and cold piercing through the cotton around your brain. 

"You'll lick it clean then."

The tone of voice throws you off makes you stumble back tilts reality back onto it's axis. He turns to you and somehow it all collapses on you you knees shake as you try to keep the couple drinks down. 

"I- I don't wanna get in your car-"

"Yes ya do. "

"N-no, can you please just call me an uber I just-"

He walks over, hands in his pockets his breaths becoming white puffs in the air bettween you. 

"I said y'comin-"

You go to open your mouth but the cold muzzle of a gun pressing against your chest shuts you up, he trails it down, his big,skilled hands making the shiney black handle look crystallized. He tugs down your top with the muzzle, takes a peek with a low, sleazy chukle. 

"And ya coming dolly. "

[kanattac]

“Not without a fight.”

t.w; yandere behavior. mentions of violence. unhealthy mindsets. physical abuse.

genre; headcanons

characters; genshin men/boys

scenario; you’re so close in their reach…if only you didn’t resort to violence…(they plan on kidnapping you, but you don’t go down without a fight)

a.n; im still alive :)) reader has a vision, gender-neutral. I didn’t forget Dain this time. female/she/here, do not follow my blog…please…

They’re utterly disappointed, why would you fight back? Don’t you know that they’re only doing this to keep you safe? For your sake? Why would you resist, darling? They try to resort in diplomacy/through talking. Just stay.

AETHER, THOMA, Childe, Zhongli, XINGQIU, BENNETT, RAZOR, Scaramouche, GOROU, DILUC, CHONGYUN, Kaeya, KAZUHA, Venti, Xiao, Dainsleif

They have no choice then, if you’re resorting to violence, then they’ll do it too. It’s your fault for using your weapon and vision against them, after all. But don’t worry! They’ll just break your knees, and you’re forgiven!

Diluc, Childe, Zhongli, KAEYA, Kazuha, Xingqiu, VENTI, Gorou, Aether, XIAO, DAINSLEIF

Laughs at your attempt. Did you really have a chance against them? They’re much more experienced in the battlefield than you, what made you think that you can resist? They’ll ask you once again, come with them, or else…

CHILDE, SCARAMOUCHE, VENTI, Zhongli, Xiao, Dainsleif

They don’t want to hurt you at all…so please, put the weapon down, alright? They won’t hurt you, not a single scratch or bruise. So please, please, just follow them, alright?

Zhongli, XIAO, AETHER, RAZOR, BENNET, XINGQIU, CHONGYUN, Tohma