#the way 'fixing' can be seen as in the middle of killing and helping. not negative but not positive either

[hermanunworthy]

im losing my mind. lark saying "we have to KILL it". normal saying "we have to HELP it". the doodler itself saying "ill FIX it"

[wholoveseggs]

Rules {Part Five}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Five

It was never a good idea, falling in love with the enemy. But how were you supposed to know how it would all end up?

♡♡ THANK YOU so much for all the love for this series!!! I had so much fun reading all your comments and inbox messages. Enjoy! and please don't hate me for the ending...♡♡

10.7k words {sorry not sorry} - Warnings: salvatore!sibling reader, smuttttt, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, secret affair, forbidden romance, KLAUS, a little Katherine cameo, ritual sacrifice, death, murder, pain, pain and more pain...

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three} {Part Four}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top!

If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123

Information, of all things of value in this world, is most precious. Katherine had learned that the hardest of ways.

She had been trying to keep tabs on everyone, especially the Salvatore brothers, who were the cause of her most recent headaches. Dwelling on the irony of that made her skin itch, considering the amount of time she had spent causing them grief.

She was sipping on a glass of bourbon, trying not to think about how her plans were crumbling. She hoped to charm Elijah, get him to protect her like he did last time.

But when he found her, he wasn't the same. He didn't have the same softness about him, the gentleness in his eyes. He was harder, angrier, more ruthless. She supposed that was her fault, she wondered how her life would have turned out had she trusted him...

She didn't regret her choice, she knew it was worth it, she always chose her freedom first, nothing else mattered. 

And she had almost gotten away, if only she had a little more information.

But now, here she was, back under the thumb of the man who had taken everything from her.

Klaus.

"Please, just...kill me. I've told you everything that I know," she pleaded, not sure why she was bothering.

He never showed her mercy, but she couldn't help but hope he would spare her, if not for old times sake.

"You see, I believe that you believe that, but what would you not know? What could they be keeping from you? Hmm? Anything? Tell me." He said, his voice was calm as he compelled her to speak the truth.

"When I was at the Salvatore house, I saw their sister, drugged and unconscious. They were keeping her that way,"she said, her voice trembling, she couldn't control the words that came out.

Klaus smiled, the wheels turning in his mind, "Any theories on why they would do that to her?"

Katherine had an idea, but she had no proof. She had no idea what Damon was up to, but he always had a plan.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, she didn't like where this was going.

"C'mon, you have always been a clever little minx," Klaus purred, his hand coming up to caress her cheek, it made her feel sick. 

"The only reason I can think of is to stop her from doing something," Katherine said, her mind racing, thinking back to everything she had seen, and the things she had missed.

Klaus grinned, his hand moving down to her throat, he began squeezing the air out of her.

"You can detect weaknesses like a bloodhound can sniff out a fox, so tell me, sweetheart. Is this your best guess or are you holding something back?" He asked, his fingers tightening.

She struggled, clawing at his arm, desperately trying to loosen his grip. "She's... Loyal to a fault, to those she loves, she tried to kill me in the 1800s for messing with her brothers,"

He raised an eyebrow, his face a mask of amusement, "So you think she's shifted loyalties? To whom?" He let go of her throat, and she collapsed to the ground, coughing and wheezing.

"I don't know... The only other players in town are the wolves... There's no reason for her to side with them..." She paused, her mind racing.

"There's only one other option," she said, her face contorting into a grin.

"Who?" Klaus growled, his patience was growing thin.

"Elijah.”

You woke in a strange daze, unsure of how much time had passed. You didn't feel rested, in fact, you felt sluggish.

You sighed softly, trying to gather your strength. Your mind was slightly hazy and you felt hungover. Your limbs were not responding to your commands, causing you even more panic.

Your eyes finally opened, adjusting to the light. You were in your own bedroom, laying on your bed, the soft hum of your ceiling fan was the only thing you could hear.

You had a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you slowly looked around. There was a pile of empty blood bags on your nightstand, a cup full of vervain, and a half-empty bottle of bourbon. It was clear that someone had been here taking care of you and keeping you sedated, judging by the empty bottle it was most likely Damon.

You rolled out of bed, stumbling across the room. Your legs were weak, and you were still groggy. You managed to make it to the door and pull it open.

It was eerily quiet, the ticking clock in the hallway was pounding in your ears. You walked towards the stairs, leaning heavily against the wall, hoping to make it all the way down without falling.

As soon as you made it to the bottom, you were overcome with a wave of nausea and dizziness. You grabbed the banister, closing your eyes, waiting for the spell to pass.

Fuzzy, half formed memories came flooding back to you. Elijah was gone, your brothers had stabbed him, and then they had drugged you, so you couldn't wake him.

You remembered Damon coming into your room, holding a blood bag up to your lips, forcing you to drink.

You remembered Stefan, sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair off your forehead, telling you to sleep.

You remembered Elena, cleaning your face, her voice low and gentle, she had been crying, apologizing.

Someone had carried you outside, then Elena invited you back in. The house was under her name now, a new defense measure added. You wondered who they were trying to keep out, had Klaus finally come to town? Fear suddenly gripped you... Where was everyone?

You slowly made your way to the basement door, taking the steps one at a time, trying to ignore the overwhelming need to puke.

Once you were down in the basement, you looked at Elijah's body, lying in the same position you left him. His clothes were now charred and tattered, the pillow and blanket were gone, probably burned to ash.

You moved closer, collapsing on the floor next to his body. He looked the same, gray, his eyes closed, his hair in disarray. You brushed his hair back, leaning down and kissing his forehead.

"lijah," you whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. "I know we agreed, if anything happens, we would say goodbye and walk away, but I can't, not this time. You're a part of me, I don't think you even realize how much you have come to mean to me."

You looked at the dagger in his chest, weighing the consequences of pulling it out. You didn't know what would happen if he woke up, he could rip you to shreds, or he could pull you into his arms, and hold you until you stopped crying.

There was a fifty-fifty chance he would do the latter, and that was good enough for you. Your fingers curled around the blade and you pulled it out. Then you dropped it onto the floor, letting it land with a metallic thud.

Nothing happened.

Elijah was still.

You leaned down and pressed your ear to his chest, listening.

Nothing.

"Please," you said softly, kissing his cold cheek. "Please wake up."

You returned to laying your head on his chest, your fingers curling in the fabric of his suit.

You closed your eyes, tears running down your face, holding in a breath. Waiting, waiting, waiting…

Suddenly, his heart sprung to life, beating rapidly. You sat up quickly, looking down at him, his eyes were open.

You could hardly believe it, he was looking up at the ceiling, his chest heaving, his mouth open. Then he sat up, gasping for air, looking around the basement wildly.

He was in clear agony, struggling to breathe, he looked at you with anguished eyes, the color returning to his face.

"I can't...I can't be in this house." He rushed to his feet, falling over himself, stumbling his way to the exit.

You limped out of the basement and upstairs, racing after him. The moment he got outside, he collapsed on his knees, taking in deep breaths.

You knelt in front of him, safe behind the threshold of the doorway.

"I'm so sorry," You said, your voice shaking. "I had no idea. They drugged me and I couldn't..."

"Y/n," He interrupted, his eyes finding yours, they were full of pain. "I...need a moment,"

You nodded, holding back tears that were threatening to spill. He looked awful, his clothes were ruined, and his skin was gray and dull. He was clearly starving.

You took the dagger and rolled it past the threshold, it hit his knee and he grabbed it, holding it in his hand. He glared at the blade, then looked up at you.

"Thank you," he said, his expression softening. "So much for rule three,"

"You would have done the same for me," you replied, a hint of a smile on your lips.

He slowly got to his feet, his skin still a bit gray, his face tired and worn. He held his hand out, inviting you to step over the threshold, which you did, allowing him to pull you into his arms.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the embrace, your arms wrapped around his neck, you buried your face into his shoulder.

"This is a bad idea," he said, his voice rumbling in his chest.

"I know," you said, squeezing him tightly.

He didn't respond, simply holding you against him, his breathing steadying.

"Do you want to get out of here?" You asked, looking up at him, a sad expression on his face.

"That is an excellent idea,"

Your phone would not stop ringing.

You had been ignoring it for the last few hours. Elijah had taken you to a luxury hotel the next town over, far enough from Mystic Falls so you didn't have to worry about anyone showing up unexpectedly.

You were sitting on the bed, eating some room service, watching him try on some suits he had compelled the concierge to bring to the room.

"Who keeps calling?" Elijah asked, looking at you over his shoulder, buttoning a shirt.

"Damon and Stefan," You replied, sighing, "they are probably worried."

"Why haven't you answered?" He asked, frowning.

"Because... I'm mad at them," You admitted, picking at the food on your plate. "After what they did to me,"

"They were protecting themselves, and you," he said softly, putting his suit jacket on, and smoothing it.

You were surprised by him defending them, considering they had literally killed him.

"It doesn't matter, I can't face them right now," you said, shaking your head, "I'll just ignore their calls, it's the best I can do."

A text from Damon popped up on your screen, in full capital letters, it read:

‘WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! ANSWER YOUR PHONE.’

You grumbled and picked your phone up, ready to block him when you got another text. This one was from Stefan:

‘Klaus is in town, in Alaric's body. Please just let us know you are okay,’

Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, staring at the message.

Elijah had been looking at you and saw your reaction, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, maybe nothing," you said, showing him your phone, his face darkening when he saw the texts.

He looked at you for a long moment, like he was contemplating his next words very carefully.

"What?" You asked, wondering what was going through his mind.

"We can't do this," he said, shaking his head. "It's too dangerous."

"What?" You said again, standing up and walking over to him.

You placed your hands on his chest, sliding them up to his shoulders. He was avoiding your gaze, but his arms moved around your waist, pulling you against him.

"What's wrong?" You asked, searching his face, but he still wouldn't look at you.

"Rule two, darling," he said softly, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands caressing your back.

"Don't do that," you said, your voice breaking, your chest ached, you were holding back tears. "I don't care about the rules, I just want you,"

"You don't know what you're asking for," he said, his breath hitching, his voice low. "If Klaus finds out about you and I, he will kill you,"

"Why? Why do you want to kill him? Who is he to you?" You asked, wanting answers, your hands curled into fists on his chest.

"I've known him since I was a child, he's my brother," he said, pulling back, so he could look you in the eyes.

You blinked, not believing what he was saying.

"But..." you stammered, not sure what to say.

He swallowed hard and began telling you all about his life. His family, what life was like in the viking age, being turned vampire, learning his mother had been unfaithful, that his beloved brother was a bastard.

"I never saw him any different, none of our siblings did," he said, his voice wavering.

You could tell this was a difficult subject, you squeezed his hand, reminding him that you were there.

"We learned of our mother's infidelity in the worst way possible..." He trailed off, his voice shaking.

"You don't have to," you said, scooting closer, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

He leaned his head against yours, his fingers stroking your arm. "I've done many terrible things, but what plagues me the most is what I did to Niklaus,"

"What did you do?" You asked, lifting your head to look at him, his brown eyes were watery.

He shook his head, unable to vocalize it, and you didn't push him. You held him, waiting, knowing it would take time.

He eventually continued, his voice low, filled with shame. "My mother was a powerful witch, she cursed him. She bound his werewolf side, made him weaker, unable to turn. She used the full moon to make it possible to break the curse."

You frowned, thinking over what he was telling you. It didn't make any sense, Klaus was a vampire, not a werewolf.

"I thought..." you said, hesitating. "I thought he was a vampire,"

"He is," Elijah said, nodding, "he's also a werewolf, but that side of him bound,"

He continued his story, explaining how Klaus was different, that he was a hybrid. The first and only of his kind, half vampire, half werewolf.

He told you how Klaus was angry and resentful, and that he had good reason to be. That he and Klaus had spent many centuries trying to break his curse, to free him from his chains.

"So the ritual isn't about werewolves or vampires being freed from their curses," You said, the realization hitting you.

"No, it's not," He admitted, frowning. "It's about my brother,"

You were quiet for a long time, processing all of the information. So Klaus had no intention of freeing the werewolves or the vampires, he just wanted to be free.

"So why do you want to kill him?" You asked, looking at Elijah.

He sighed, rubbing his face, clearly struggling.

"I have other siblings, and he took them from me," He said, his tone was strained, the words catching in his throat. "I've searched for decades, and I can't find them,"

You squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue.

"I've lost all hope of ever finding them," he said, his jaw clenching, he looked at you with his dark tear filled eyes. "All I have now is my revenge,"

You nodded, understanding where he was coming from. If you lost your brothers, you would burn the world down to avenge them.

"What is the ritual supposed to do?" You asked, curious, wanting to learn more.

"He has to kill a werewolf, a vampire, and a doppelganger. Their blood is necessary for the ritual," he explained, his fingers gently running along your arm. "When it's complete he will be weakened, then I will kill him."

"Elena is innocent... Elijah I'm sorry but you can't let him hurt her," you said, frowning.

He looked away from you, his brow furrowing, "She has to die, but not permanently,"

"What do you mean?" You asked, confused.

"A few centuries ago, there was another doppelganger, I grew some affections for her... I found a way to keep her alive," he said, his tone was flat.

"Katherine," you said, the name leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

He nodded, "I will give Elena the elixir I acquired for Katerina. It will save her,"

You let out a sigh of relief, at least Elena would be safe.

"To kill your brother, it's not an easy thing to do," You said, leaning your head against his. "Are you really prepared for what it means?"

"The full moon is in three days," He said, changing the subject, his expression was grim. "The ritual will happen then,"

"Yes," he said, without a moment of hesitation.

You sat in silence, neither of you knew what to say.

"Sometimes there's honor in revenge," he said, his hand resting on your leg. "And sometimes you just need to put down a rabid dog, no matter how much you once loved him."

"Eli-," You started, but he cut you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours.

You melted against him, forgetting what you were about to say. He had this way of silencing you, and it drove you crazy.

"No more talk of the ritual," he said, his fingers gently brushing over your cheek, his eyes gazing into yours. "I want to enjoy the time we have left,"

You didn't know what to say, so you nodded, and he kissed you again.

Elijah watched you sleep, the sheet barely covering your naked body. His fingers traced patterns along your skin, his touch light as a feather.

He was trying to ignore the dread, the sinking feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach.He needed to plan, to prepare for what he had to do, but the only thing on his mind was you.

He should have known better, he was foolish to have ever gotten involved with you. When he came to Mystic Falls he told himself no weaknesses, no distractions, and yet here you were.

"Stop watching me, it's creepy," you mumbled, rolling over, the sheet falling off of you, revealing your naked form.

"Apologies," he said, unable to help the smirk that tugged at his lips.

"I forgive you, I know I'm irresistible," you said, yawning, stretching, your body arching.

He chuckled, leaning over, kissing you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, "If I asked you to do something, would you do it?"

You gave him a curious look, your fingers tangling in his hair, "That depends,"

"Would you stay here, and not interfere with the ritual?" He asked, his brow furrowing, his tone was strained.

"Elijah-," You said, sitting up, the sheets pooling around your waist.

"Please," he begged, his eyes softening.

"But Elena-," You tried to protest, but he cut you off with a kiss, his hands cupping your face.

"Your brothers will keep her safe, but if you were involved... I would lose my mind with worry," he admitted, his eyes filled with turmoil.

"I thought this was just physical?" You teased, hoping to ease the tension.

He smiled and shook his head, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I love you," he said it so softly you barely heard it, his voice cracking.

You looked at him, searching his face for any signs of a lie, but there was none. He wasn't lying, he was telling the truth, the sincerity in his words and his eyes was evident.

Your words caught in your throat, a lump forming. You couldn't bring yourself to say it, you wanted to, but it was like there was a block.

You pressed your lips to his, your tongue sliding past his lips, kissing him deeply, trying to pour all of your emotions into it.

He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing your jaw, "Say it,"

"I can't," You whispered, your voice wavering.

He tilted your chin up, his dark eyes meeting yours. "I love you miss Salvatore, and it frightens me more than anything ever has,"

"Elijah," you said, cupping his face, your heart aching. "I... I love you too,"

He pulled you into a kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his torso.

You were panting, the kiss was heated, needy, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You felt his erection against your inner thigh, hard and ready, and you ground against it.

"I love you," you repeated, his hands grabbing your ass, pulling you closer.

"I love you," he replied, his lips attacking your neck, sucking, biting, marking you as his.

You reached down, wrapping your fingers around his length, sliding your hand along his shaft, positioning him at your entrance.

You lowered yourself down, desperately needing to feel connected to him, his fingers dug into your hips as you sat fully in his lap, taking him deep inside of you.

He moaned, his eyes closing, his head tilting back, you leaned forward and kissed his neck, your fangs scraping along his skin.

You rolled your hips, slowly, taking him in and out of you, his breath hitching with each movement. You grinned against his skin, loving how you were making him react.

"That's it, take what you need," he said, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, keeping you close to him.

"I love you," you breathed, your voice a soft whimper, as you sunk your fangs into his neck.

His blood flooded your mouth, warm and sweet, and you sucked, feeling his pulse beating against your lips. He tasted like pure power, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

He moaned, his fingers tangling in your hair, gripping it tight. You were riding him, moving your hips in a fluid motion, grinding down onto him, feeling his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside.

You pulled back, his blood dripping from your lips, his hands were on your ass, guiding your hips. He kissed you, biting down on your bottom lip and tasting you. Your blood mixing together, it was the most erotic thing you had ever done.

"That's my girl," he whispered, his voice ragged, his eyes dark with lust. "So beautiful, and mine,"

"Yes, all yours," you moaned, grinding down harder onto him.

You felt his hand moving between your ass cheeks, his finger finding your puckered hole, slowly pressing into you.

You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed, it felt so good, him inside of you like this.

"I want you to cum for me, my sweet little love," he said, his voice soft and gentle, his finger moving deeper.

You moaned, clutching at his chest, your nails raking along his skin, drawing blood. The combination of him filling you, his finger, and the taste of his blood in your mouth sent you over the edge.

You let out a long, low moan, against his lips, your walls clenching around him, milking him for everything he had.

He grunted, his eyes fluttering closed, he bit his lip, trying to muffle his moans, and he came deep inside of you.

Your body was trembling, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

You pressed your face into the crook of his neck, his skin slick with sweat, the smell of sex and blood hung heavy in the air.

You pulled back and kissed him, his hand cupping the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

"After this is all over, will you come with me?" He asked, his hand stroking your cheek.

"Where would we go?" You asked, smiling.

"Anywhere, preferably somewhere with a beach and sunshine," he replied, his fingers running through your hair.

"It's a date," you said, nuzzling his neck, breathing in his scent.

"A date?" He chuckled, his fingers tickling your sides, you giggled and squirmed away from him. "That's new for us,"

You grinned, looking down at him. "I like the sound of it,"

"As do I," he agreed, his hand stroking your cheek.

"When I first met you, I never would've thought we'd end up here," you mused, running your fingers along his jaw.

"Neither did I," he admitted, his lips turning up into a small smile.

"So, tell me about this beach trip, what would we do?" You asked, wanting to keep him talking, not wanting to leave his side.

"Hmmm," he said, thinking for a moment. "I would find us a quiet little bungalow, right on the water, with a private stretch of sand for us,"

You closed your eyes, listening to the smooth timber of his voice, imagining the soft waves and fresh ocean air.

"And we'd have our meals brought in by servants, we'd lounge on the beach, swim, and make love whenever the mood struck us," he said, his fingers dancing across your back.

"I could live with that," you said, sighing contently, enjoying his warmth.

"I'm glad," he said, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, a soft, gentle kiss.

You broke the kiss and stared into his dark eyes, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

"If anything happens to me I want you to know, I don't regret a single second of it," he said, his voice soft.

"What?" You asked, giving him a worried look.

"You need to know, in case I fail, and my brother ends me before I can end him," he said, his face serious, his eyes clouded with fear.

"Elijah-," you started to protest, but he cut you off.

"Promise me," he said, his voice pleading. "If this ends badly, you will remember rule three,"

"I thought we had given up on the rules," you said, trying not to let him see how afraid you were.

"Not this one," he said, his voice cracking.

"Why? You can't seriously expect me to-"

"Please," he said, his dark eyes locked on yours. "For me,"

You sighed and nodded, leaning into him, his arms wrapping around you.

"Thank you," he whispered, his fingers stroking your back, his lips brushing against your hair.

"Just come back to me," you said, trying not to cry.

"Always,”

The problem, Damon: you talk a good game but you don't actually know anything. She'll never forgive you. And never for a vampire...It's a very long time.

Elijah's words had been echoing around in Damon's head since that morning, the smugness in the older vampire's voice made him want to put his fist through the wall.

He had made a mess of things, but he couldn't admit that to anyone. The feeling he had when he learned that today was the day of the sacrifice, the day that he would lose Elena... He simply couldn't handle it. His desire for action was overwhelming.

He didn't like everything being out of his control, so he did what he had to do. And now his brother and Elena hated him. Elijah being right was the cherry on top of his shit sundae. 

In times like this, when he hit rock bottom then fell a little further, he turned to his oldest friend, his closest confidant, his beloved sister. 

But you weren't picking up the phone, despite Elijah's assurances you were alive and somewhere safe, it didn't soothe his worries.

So he tried one last time, and this time you actually picked up, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he heard your voice.

"If you are calling to lecture me on love, I will remind you that you are no better," your voice made his throat constrict.

"I know, I'm not," he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.

"Are you okay?" You asked, a little softer.

"No," he answered, his voice shaking.

"What happened?" You asked, concern creeping into your tone.

"Everything's gone to hell," he replied, his voice strained. "I gave Elena my blood... Well actually I made her drink my blood,"

"Oh Damon..."

"I had no other choice,"

"She's going to hate you,"

"I know, Elijah told me,"

"Damon... He's right,"

"I know that too,"

There was a silence on the other end of the phone, he could hear you moving around, like you were packing a bag.

"I'm on my way," you said, finally. "Partly to kick your ass, partly to give you a hug,"

"Always the multitasker," he joked, his voice cracking. "But do not come home tonight, I just need to know you are safe,"

"I'll do what I want," you said, and he could almost see the pout on your lips.

He smiled, he had missed your stubbornness, and it was the closest thing to normal he had felt all day. But he couldn't risk you being involved, everyone was already in the crossfire, and the thought of you being added to that mix was too much for him to bear.

"Sister," he said, his voice firm. "Please, please, listen to me, just this once, and stay away,"

You let out a long, irritated sigh, "I'm so bored, and I'm getting hungry,"

"Well then go find someone nice to eat and watch a movie," he suggested, chuckling.

"I can't concentrate, not when everyone I love is in danger," you grumbled.

"Does that love extend to Elijah?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Yes," you said simply, and his heart ached.

He had known, of course, but hearing you say it aloud made it real.

"Why him? Like seriously..." Damon asked, he was genuinely curious, and he needed something to distract him from the shit show he had gotten himself into. "How did you even meet him?"

"I was hunting," you answered, sounding amused. "He found my methods to be entertaining, and I found him to be a challenge,"

"Did you know who he was? What he planned for Elena?" Damon asked, trying not to sound judgemental.

"Yes, I knew who he was. But we had rules, to keep things from getting complicated," you explained.

"That didn't really work out did it?" He teased, smiling.

"No," you admitted, laughing.

There was a long pause, and he could feel his emotions starting to get the best of him.

"Damon, promise me you won't die for her?" You asked, your voice wavering.

"You know I can't do that," he said, his voice low.

"I know," you whispered. "Just please, try to survive this,"

"I'll do my best," he promised, knowing he couldn't really promise anything.

"I love you big brother," you said, and his eyes started to water. "Tell Stefan I love him too,"

"I will, I love you too," he choked out, and he heard the line go dead.

Damon stared at his phone, the picture of you, him and Stefan was staring back at him, his heart aching.

"I hope I see you tomorrow, little sis,"

The town you were hiding out in was quiet and a little boring, but you didn't mind. It was the first time in a long time you had had a few days to yourself, no drama, no life or death situations. Just perfect mundanity.

You were lounging in a café, enjoying a cup of coffee, and watching the locals, wondering what their lives were like. You envied them, their simplicity, their happiness. You imagined you and Elijah in a little house, in a place like this, with a garden and a view of the ocean.

You were lost in your own world, dreaming about the impossible, when someone cleared their throat. You looked up, a smile playing at your lips. Dinner had just arrived. 

He was handsome, with curly hair and blue eyes, he had a sharp wicked glint in his eyes that sent a thrill through you. You always enjoyed a good meal with a bit of bite.

"Mind if I sit?" He asked, grinning.

"Not at all," you purred, gesturing to the chair.

He sat, and ordered a coffee, and he turned his attention back to you.

"I don't mean to be so forward, but you are downright striking," he said, his gaze running over your body.

"Thank you," you said, giving him a flirty smile. "It's a bit of a family trait,"

"Is that so? Mine as well, if you can't tell," he said, smiling.

You laughed, enjoying his company.

"You aren't from around here," he observed, sipping his coffee.

"Neither are you," you said, tilting your head.

"I'm just visiting, on vacation," he replied, grinning.

"Same,"

He was charming, and handsome, and you could feel the hunger starting to rise within you.

"I'm staying at the Inn down the street," he said, giving you a hopeful look.

"I'm staying there as well,"

"Well then, may I escort you home?"

"You may,"

The walk back to the Inn was short, you enjoyed his company, he was easy to talk to, and funny.

"Would you like a nightcap?" He asked, flashing you a crooked smile.

"That would be lovely," you said, grinning.

His hand came to rest on the small of your back, guiding you into the room. You usually enjoyed playing with your food a little before you ate, but you were committed to Elijah now, and you didn't want to stray.

As soon as you entered his room, he pinned you to the wall, moving in to kiss you. You politely dodged by pressing your lips to his neck, breathing him in.

"You are a vision," he said, his hand sliding up your arm, and into your hair.

"Thank you," you murmured, your fangs grazing his skin, his pulse racing beneath your lips.

He moaned, and gripped your waist, pressing his hips against yours. You could feel him, hard against your thigh, and you went to bite down.

Suddenly, he pulled your head back by your hair, hard. With strength you hadn't expected, he forced you back, pushing you hard into the wall, the plaster cracking behind you.

"I see why my brother is so taken," he growled, his eyes darkening.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, "Klaus,"

"The one and only, love," he said, smirking.

You tried to pull away, but his grip on you was too strong.

"Don't worry, love," he purred, his hand stroking your cheek. "I won't hurt you,"

"Fuck you," you said, glaring at him.

He smirked, and kissed you, hard, his teeth cutting into your lips.

"You're a feisty little thing," he said, licking his lips. "Even wilder than your brothers,"

You hissed and tried to struggle, his hands tightening around your arms, digging into your skin. "If you hurt them..."

"Now, now," he said, tutting. "Let's not make threats, especially when you can't back them up,"

You bared your fangs at him, but he only grinned.

"I've been wanting to meet you," he said, his thumb brushing across your cheek. "Elijah's little distraction,"

"I'm more than a distraction," you growled, struggling against his hold.

"Hmmm," he hummed, leaning in and nuzzling your neck. "I know,"

You were too frightened to speak, your whole body trembling.

"It's what I'm counting on dear,"

Klaus had been dragging you through the woods for what felt like hours.

Your fear had turned into anger and you began to try and fight him. It seemed to amuse him for a while, he'd let you run only to catch you with ease.

"Why are you doing this?" You growled, his hand holding your arm tightly, leading you through the trees.

"To be reborn, as I truly am," he said, his expression thoughtful.

You rolled your eyes and let out an annoyed sigh, he was a narcissist, the kind of man who enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this?" He asked, looking down at you. "One thousand years,"

 "I know," you sighed.

"Of course you do," he said, smirking. "Elijah loves to spill his heart out after a good bedding doesn't he?"

You didn't answer him, he was trying to get under your skin, and it was working.

"My brother has always been the strong, self righteous type, with an unbreakable moral code," Klaus chuckled, picking up his pace, dragging you along. "That is... Until he gets his face between a pretty pair of legs,"

"Fuck you," you spat, anger boiling up inside of you.

"You have a smart mouth," he said, his fingers squeezing your arm. "I think I'll like to see how you use it later,"

You freed yourself from his grip and slapped him hard across the face. No man was allowed to speak to you in that way, and you certainly weren't going to tolerate it from this monster.

His expression changed from amusement to anger in the blink of an eye. He slammed you against a nearby tree, the twigs and branches impaling you.

You cried out, blood pouring from the puncture wounds, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye.

 "That was very, very stupid,"

His words sent a chill down your spine, and a fresh wave of fear washed over you.

"What's the matter?" He asked, his tone taunting. "No more choice words and acts of violence for me?"

"Don't kill me," you said, tears starting to run down your cheeks.

"I won't," he assured you, his lips brushing against yours. "But I will kill everyone in Mystic Falls if you don't do what I say. If you don't believe me... Just ask sweet little Katerina about it,"

Your blood ran cold, you knew what he was capable of, and you had no choice but to obey him.

Through the trees you could see a circle of fire, and you felt dread sink into the pit of your stomach.

"No," you pleaded, trying to pull away.

"Stop being so dramatic, love," he said, rolling his eyes.

He pulled you into the clearing, throwing you down on the ground next to the three women sitting in their own rings of fire.

You could see Elena, a terrified look on her face, along with her aunt Jenna and a woman you didn't recognize.

"Hello my lovelies," Klaus said, grinning. "Are we all ready?"

He gave you a swift kick, then grabbed you by the hair and pulled you to your feet. "I brought an assistant with me,"

He pushed you forward, leaving you to stand there as he walked to the altar, handing the moonstone to a witch standing nearby.

You looked at Elena and Jenna, they were beyond scared, their eyes full of tears, and you felt your stomach twist, you didn't know how to help them.

The witch had begun to chant, a mixture of Latin and something else, the moonstone began to spark, then it exploded into nothing.

"Bring me the wolf," Klaus demanded, looking at you with a wild, manic look in his eyes.

You shook your head, your whole body trembling, you refused to let him hurt someone else.

"It's either them or the entire town, love. That includes your brothers," he growled, his jaw clenched.

The thought of losing Stefan and Damon made your stomach clench, and tears started to run down your face.

"Bring her. Now," he growled, his tone brokering no argument.

You walked towards the first ring of fire, to the terrified woman who was writhing in pain, her cries echoing through the trees.

The ring disappeared as you approached, and you lifted the girl into your arms. She was whimpering and shaking, the transition having begun.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, carrying her to the altar.

"Good girl," Klaus hummed, taking the wolf from your arms, and laying her on the stone.

Klaus kneeled over her, looking down at her with an evil grin, his eyes were filled with a mix of desire and madness, and he plunged his hand into her chest, ripping her heart out.

Jenna and Elena screamed, watching Klaus hold up the wolf's heart, his expression triumphant.

"I'll make it quick, I promise," Klaus said, grinning. "They will barely feel a thing,"

You looked over at Elena and Jenna, their screams piercing the air, the witches chanting growing louder.

Elijah was looking up at the night sky, watching the moon slowly make its way across, his thoughts on you. He couldn't stop thinking about your smile, and the way your eyes lit up whenever you saw him.

If tonight went smoothly, he had so many plans with you, the first was taking you to Paris, a city that was sure to dazzle you. After that he would whisk you away to Rome, where you could visit the many art museums and eat all the food you wanted.

He wanted to spoil you, shower you with everything you could ever want, and then some. It had been nearly sixty years of searching for his brother, trying to uncover the rest of his family. He felt like tonight was the first chance he had to truly mourn, then he could finally move on and spend the rest of his time with you. 

He had spoken with Stefan earlier, before he left with Bonnie to go stop Klaus. He liked Stefan, he was an honorable man who respected the choices of the ones he loved, even if he didn't agree with them.

Elijah hoped he and Stefan could be friends one day, once everything settled down, he knew that would make you happy. To see peace between him and your brothers. Damon would be a more difficult task, he reminded him of Klaus, cocky and impulsive, and that was a difficult combination.

The waiting was beginning to make him antsy. He had to wait for the right moment to strike, but there were so many factors outside of his control, he didn't like the feeling. He needed to distract himself, keep his mind from wandering too far.

He thought about his siblings, of sweet Rebekah, wild Kol, and serious Finn. What would they think of him killing Klaus? He wished he could have saved them, he wanted so badly to see them again.

He let out a long sigh, steeling himself for what he had to do. Klaus was no longer his brother, he had been twisted into a monster, and he had to be put down.

It was time, he could see the moon hanging high above him, it was time to end this. 

You watched Klaus squeeze the wolf's heart over the altar, the blood dripping into the fire, igniting it.

"Next, the vampire," he said, grinning.

You stood, frozen, watching him, as a wave of guilt crashed over you.

"Bring me Jenna, go on,"

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes.

"No," you said in the smallest voice. 

You could hear Jenna and Elena, talking to each other, they were saying their goodbyes and it broke your heart.

Klaus turned, and walked over to you, his eyes were dark and cold, and his jaw was clenched.

"Are you offering yourself in her place then?" He growled, his hand coming up to grab your chin.

You didn't answer him, you were staring over his shoulder at Jenna and Elena.

"I'll take that as a yes,"

You let him drag you to the altar, and push you down onto the cold stone, he forced you to kneel. You didn't fight him, you had lived for many decades longer than sweet Jenna and Elena, the old should always give their lives for the young.

Klaus let out a hearty chuckle and kicked you over, his hand gripping your hair.

"I don't recall you being on the guest list," Klaus yelled, looking into the dark forest. 

You heard the sound of footsteps as someone approached, it was Stefan. His expression was calm, but his eyes were furious.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Salvatore?" Klaus asked, amused.

Stefan looked at you, a concerned look on his face.

"Well, I figured you could start by letting my sister go," Stefan said, his voice firm.

"Hmm," Klaus said, looking down at you. "I don't think I will, she's quite the little spitfire, and I rather enjoy her company,"

"Let her go, I'll take her place," Stefan offered, taking a step forward.

"That's quite noble of you," Klaus said, smiling. "But, I think I'd prefer my original plan. I rather appreciate the symmetry of three women...Three goddesses sacrificed at nature's altar."

He grabbed both you and Stefan and dragged you towards the rings of fire. Throwing you both down next to Elena and Jenna. 

"Quite the predicament. You know, it's funny, all this talk about preserving family, and here's Stefan, granting your wish," Klaus said to Elena, smiling.

Stefan and Elena were looking at each other, a silent conversation passing between them.

"Oh, don't look so glum," Klaus said, looking between the two. "There's actually no choice,"

Klaus took a stake and plunged it into Stefan's spine, causing him to yell in pain, unable to move.

You and Elena both screamed, you got to your feet to strike Klaus, but he grabbed you by the throat, squeezing hard.

"Let them go," Elena pleaded, tears running down her cheeks. "I understand that I have to die, but they don't,"

Klaus ignored her and looked into your eyes, his hand tightening around your neck.

"Bring Jenna to the altar, or I'll kill Stefan," he growled, his fingers digging into your skin.

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes, you couldn't lose Stefan.

"Please," you whispered, your hands clawing at his.

He let you go, then walked back to the altar.

"Bring her, now," he ordered, pointing at the ring of fire surrounding Jenna.

You stood, walking slowly over to the fire, the ring disappeared and Jenna looked up at you with tear filled eyes. She looked so afraid, so helpless.

"I'm so sorry," you said, your voice breaking, as you helped her to her feet.

You walked her over to the altar, Klaus waiting patiently.

"Jenna, I'm so sorry," you whispered, your hand brushing the hair from her face.

She was sobbing, her body shaking, and you held her close, stroking her hair.

"Please Klaus, just use me instead, she's innocent," you begged, tears running down your face.

"You Salvatore's are so predictable," Klaus sighed, rolling his eyes.

Klaus walked over, and pulled Jenna from your arms, he threw her down onto the altar. Everything seemed to blur, you could hear Elena screaming, the chants of the witch, the cracking of the fire. You saw Stefan reaching out to Elena through the flames, and then, it was quiet.

Klaus plunged a stake into her heart, Elena's wails were all you could hear. Jenna's lifeless body was lying on the altar, her face frozen in fear. You had brought her to her slaughter. You had killed her.

"Such a wonderful assistant," Klaus cooed, he grabbed your chin, his bloody fingers digging into your skin. "Be a good girl and bring me the doppelganger,"

You looked into his cold eyes, his mouth twisted into a smirk.

"Now," he growled.

You nodded, then walked over to Elena, tears were running down her cheeks, but she put on a brave face as the last ring of fire disappeared.

"Elena," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes, your whole body was shaking. "I'm so, so sorry,"

"Don't," she said, her voice shaky. "It's not your fault. It's nice to have a friend here at the end,"

She held your hand as you helped her walk over to Klaus. You looked at Stefan, he was struggling to free himself, his eyes filled with worry.

"Elena," Stefan called, his voice breaking.

"It's okay, Stefan," she said, her grip on your hand tightening. "I'm ready,"

You helped her up onto the altar, and Klaus looked down at her with hungry eyes.

"Thank you Elena," he said softly, pulling her against him and moving her hair away from her neck.

"Go to hell," she said, her voice strong.

He chuckled and sank his fangs into her neck.

Elena didn't fight, she let death take her, her grip loosening on your hand, as her last breath left her.

You were shaking, the sound of Klaus drinking from her filling the silence. You had lost two friends today, and the world was suddenly a lot emptier.

When the last bit of blood left her body, Klaus dropped her to the ground and the fire in the altar went out.

You knelt next to her, brushing her hair away from her face, then you looked back at Stefan who was writhing in pain, crying at the loss of Elena.

Klaus staggered a bit, the full moon peeking out from the trees. He groaned, and started to change, his bones cracking as he stumbled forward, his expression a mask of pure bliss.

"It's happening," he moaned, his eyes turned gold, and he was overcome with pleasure. "I can feel it,"

You couldn't stand this any long, all this pain and death. You needed it to end.

You moved down the steps towards him, grabbing a branch off a nearby tree, snapping it in half.

"Come on, sweetheart," he taunted, turning to look at you, his eyes shining. "I'm indestructible,"

"I don't care," you snarled, lunging for him. "You still feel pain,"

You charged at him, striking him across the face, your rage blinding you, making you miss his fist, as it collided with your stomach.

The blow threw you across the clearing, and you landed on your back, the air leaving your lungs, the branch now lodged in your side. 

You saw Damon come running out of the woods, he first looked to Elena, then to Stefan, but when he laid eyes on you, he ran to your side.

"No, no, no, no," he said, his eyes filled with panic, he pulled the wood from your side. "You're not supposed to be here,"

You could hear the concern in his voice, and you smiled up at him, cupping his face. He helped you to your feet, your wounds healing, then he pushed you behind him.

"Damon," you said softly, trying to stop him.

"Bonnie is here, it's okay, let me handle this," he said, his tone stern.

Klaus was standing there, laughing maniacally, a mad grin on his face, then his body began to shake and he fell to the ground.

Suddenly his laughter turned to screams, as Bonnie came striding out of the trees, chanting a spell, she raised her hand, causing Klaus to scream in agony. The fire returned to the altar and spread into the trees, her magic all around them as she channeled every ounce of power she possessed, bringing the hybrid to his knees.

Then she choked on her words, gasping for air, looking around for the source.

"Get the witch!" Stefan yelled, pointing to Klaus' witch, still standing at the altar, her hand outstretched.

Bonnie raised her hands, trying to focus her power, but she was struggling, and you could see the strain on her face.

The witch threw Bonnie into the air, knocking her out, her body hitting the ground.

Damon ran for the witch, and tackled her, his teeth sinking into her neck. He killed her instantly, her body going limp in his arms.

The fire disappeared, the flames extinguishing, the magic disappearing. A deadly quiet settling over everything.

Suddenly, you felt a hand in your hair, dragging you backwards, the pain making you scream.

"Elijah!" Klaus roared into the woods, "I know you are out there, show yourself!"

You saw Elijah walk out of the trees, and into the clearing, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were locked on yours.

Klaus's fingers dug into your scalp, and he pulled harder, forcing you to your knees between them.

"What a sight," Klaus mocked, grinning at Elijah.

"Hello, brother," Elijah said, his eyes still locked on yours.

"You've come to kill me?" Klaus said, chuckling. "How is that working out for you?"

He pulled you back to your feet, your whole body trembling.

"Actually, I've come to make you an offer," Elijah said, taking a step closer, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Oh," Klaus said, amused. "An offer, I wonder what that might be,"

"Spare them, and I will pledge my loyalty to you," Elijah said, his voice soft, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're lying," Klaus growled, his hand wrapping around your throat, his fangs grazing your skin. "You're only offering yourself, so I won't kill her. That's not true loyalty,"

You saw Damon lift Elena's body into his arms, carrying her to Stefan. Then he pulled the stake out of Stefan's back, allowing him to move again.

"Elijah," Stefan called, his voice shaky. "You need to finish this,"

"I can't," he said, shaking his head. "Klaus will kill her,"

Damon rushed to Bonnie's side, trying to wake her up, and Klaus laughed, his lips pressed against your ear.

"Run to your love, if you make it I'll let you live," he whispered, shoving you forward.

You stumbled, your legs barely able to support you, then you started running towards Elijah, tears streaming down your face.

You made it to him, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, he was murmuring soft words into your ear, his breath tickling your skin. And you finally felt safe again.

"Are you okay?" He asked, pulling away to look at you, his fingers brushing the hair from your face.

"Yes," you said softly, your hand gripping his jacket.

You were staring up at him, his brown eyes were warm and full of worry, and you had forgotten how much you missed him.

"Good," he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours.

Your lips met his at the same time you felt something strange in your back. An odd pressure that made you gasp into his mouth.

You pulled away from Elijah, there was a strange look on his face, his mouth falling open, and he looked down at you, a look of pure terror in his eyes.

For the first time in centuries, you felt cold, the world was spinning around you. You knew what was happening, 

Your hand pressed against his chest, you could feel his heart beating against your palm. You looked up into his brown eyes one last time.

"Rule three, my love," you whispered, before your life faded away, and your body fell against him.

Elijah looked down at you, your skin rapidly turning gray, your eyes vacant. Then he looked up at Klaus, who held your heart in his hands.

"This is for betraying me," Klaus said, dropping the organ at his feet, the blood running down the stone steps.

Elijah stood there, his arms wrapped around your lifeless body, his whole world was crumbling.

He could hear Stefan and Damon screaming, but it sounded far away, the own beating of his heart drowning out the rest.

Klaus grabbed Elijah by the neck, forcing him to drop your body, and shoved him to the ground.

"Look at her, the way she's staring up at the stars, it's quite beautiful, isn't it?" Klaus mocked, as Elijah watched you, lifeless on the cold stone. "And it's all because of you,"

Elijah looked away, a tear falling down his cheek, his brother's words cutting into him.

"You're pathetic," Klaus hissed, his hands gripping Elijah's jacket, your blood staining the fabric. "To think you could beat me,"

Elijah closed his eyes, trying to block out his brother's words, but it was no use, his mind was replaying every moment with you. Knowing he would never taste your lips again, or hear your laugh. You would never fall asleep in his arms.

He looked over at Damon, who had rushed to your body. He was holding you, rocking you back and forth in his arms, with Stefan by his side, his face stained with tears, a look of anguish on his face.

Elijah's world was fading away, as he was overcome with rage and anguish, a darkness consuming him, and Klaus just kept talking, his voice becoming more and more distant. 

Then something within him snapped, a creature that was lurking underneath his skin came bursting through, a monster taking the place of the gentleman.

He turned his attention back to his brother, and Klaus froze, the fear clear in his eyes.

Damon watched as Elijah pushed Klaus backwards, causing him to fly across the clearing, skidding along the dirt, landing a few feet away.

Elijah walked in a slow, deliberate pace towards Klaus , his expression devoid of any emotion.

"You're right, Klaus," Elijah said, a cold smile spreading across his face. "We are not the same,"

Klaus tried to stand, but Elijah shoved him back down, he grabbed Klaus leg and twisted it until it snapped. Klaus howled in agony, and Elijah smiled, twisting the other leg, and his brother's screams were echoing through the night.

"You want to be a beast?" Elijah growled, pulling Klaus into the air by his neck, his hands wrapped around his throat. "Let me help you,"

Damon felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Bonnie was standing there, her eyes full of sorrow.

"Damon," she whispered, tears running down her face.

"Go, help Elijah," he said, his voice hollow. "I'll stay here with her,"

Bonnie nodded, she stood up, her body trembling. Stefan jumped to his feet to help her stay upright, and she began to chant once more. 

The altar burst into flames for a third time, illuminating Klaus and Elijah in a ring of fire as they struggled against each other.

"What is this?" Klaus yelled, pushing Elijah away, trying to fight the pain. "What have you done?"

"Something that should have been done centuries ago," Elijah growled, rushing towards his brother, knocking him down, pinning him to the dirt, his hand raised.

"In the name of our family, Niklaus...," Elijah said, plunging his hand into his brother's chest, curing his fingers around Klaus's heart. "In the name of her..."

"I didn't bury them at sea!" Klaus yelled, his hand trying to pry Elijah's away. "They are safe, I swear,"

Elijah looked at him, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

"I can take you to them," Klaus pleaded, his hands gripping Elijah's wrist. “Their bodies are safe. If you kill me, you'll never find them,”

"Elijah, don't listen to him," Stefan yelled, walking towards them.

"Brother, please," Klaus begged. "She wouldn't want this, please,"

Your beautiful face flashed through Elijah's mind, and he looked back at Damon, who was kneeling there, tears in his eyes, clutching your body.

"You're wrong, Klaus," Elijah growled, his hand squeezing the organ in his grip. "She would want this,"

Then he tore Klaus's heart from his chest, and watched the life fade from his brother's eyes.

Klaus's body dropped to the ground, his heart still beating in Elijah's hand, and the flames died down, leaving the clearing in silence. 

Bonnie walked up to him, looking down at the flames. 

"Good," She said, her voice hoarse.

Elijah looked back at Stefan and Damon, they were kneeling next to your body, Stefan's hand caressing your cheek. 

Elijah rushed over to you, looking down at your peaceful face, you almost looked like you were sleeping.

Elijah brushed the hair from your face, his hands were shaking. He couldn't understand how something so beautiful could be snuffed out so easily.

"Don't touch her," Damon said, pulling you away from Elijah.

"You did this," Damon snapped, glaring at Elijah. "It's your fault she's dead,"

Elijah nodded and stepped away, Damon was right, it was his fault.

"Damon," Stefan said, reaching for his brother.

"No, he has to answer for this," Damon said, getting to his feet, your body in his arms.

"It's over Damon," Bonnie said softly, looking up at him. "It's over,"

Damon looked down at you, and tears started to stream down his cheeks. He was shaking, and Stefan reached for him, the two of them clinging to each other, your body between them.

"I think it's best you leave," Bonnie said, her eyes filled with sadness. "Please, go,"

Elijah nodded, his heart breaking as he looked down at your lifeless form, knowing this was his fault.

"Where will you go?" Stefan asked, as he wiped his eyes.

"I need to find my siblings," he said softly, looking away from the sight. "With Klaus dead, everyone he compelled will be free, I'll follow the clues they left behind,"

He looked back at you, and his heart shattered.

"Will you be okay?" Stefan asked, his hand on Elijah's shoulder.

"One day," he replied, turning to look at him, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you," Stefan said softly.

Elijah gave them a small nod, then disappeared into the trees, heading far away from Mystic Falls. His heart forever bound to yours. 

~Epilogue

Time changes all things, this was something Damon had the basics of understanding, but nothing could prepare him for how it would affect him when he became human again.

He was an old man, something he never expected to experience, and yet there he was.

"Are you ready?" Elena asked, her hand on his arm.

"Always," he answered, his voice weak, but his smile was genuine.

She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her eyes still as bright and beautiful as the day he met her.

The walk to the Salvatore family crypt was slow, and the pain in his joints was unbearable. He hated getting old.

They entered the stone building, and Damon let go of Elena's arm, making his way over to your stone. He placed his hand on it, the smoothness soothing his calloused hand.

"Hi sis," he said, smiling down at the stone. "It's been a while, i've been so busy,"

He took a seat in the chair next to your grave, he had brought it decades ago. He was a man who liked his comfort, and he spent hours talking to you, catching you up on everything that had happened since the last time he was there.

"I have grandkids now! Can you believe it? They are the cutest, I even named a boy after you, well, the closest we could come, but, yeah," he said, a wide grin on his face.

Damon looked over at Elena, who was laying flowers at Stefan's grave. She was the only one left, and he was so grateful for her.

"I miss you and Stefan so much," Damon said softly. "But it won't be long now until I see you again,"

There was an awkward cough and Damon looked up to see a delivery boy standing in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.

"I have a delivery for Miss Y/n Salvatore," he said, walking up to him, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"She's not exactly up for company," Damon said with a chuckle, gesturing to your stone.

"I know, this actually isn't my first time doing this," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Actually, the guy who use to deliver along this route said that he's been delivering here once a week for his entire fourty year career,"

Damon stood up slowly, his bones protesting the movement. He held his hand out and the boy handed him the flowers.

"Thanks, kid," Damon said, sitting back down, there was a note tucked in with the flowers.

The boy gave him a little wave before disappearing.

Elena came to sit next to him, her hand on his knee, she gave him a sad smile. "What does it say?"

Damon pulled out his glasses, and read it out loud, a tear rolling down his cheek.

For a thousand years, I had never known love, until you, and for a thousand more, I will wait for you. 

-Elijah

Rule one: When we are together, it will just be us, no one will know.

Rule two: No talk of business or family, don't get personal.

Rule three: When it's over, it's over.

{Part One} {Part Two}{Part Three} {Part Four}

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡~LOVE YOU GUYS

[loveandmurders]

Monsters love their wives II (Bo Sinclair x f!reader)

Hello everyone! This is the last part of this mini series about Bo being an idiot and hurting his wife even though he loves her. You can find the first part here.

Hope you'll enjoy <3

Warnings: ANGST, comfort (in a dark way I guess), violence (graphic), blood, murders, fear, strong words, very morally grey reader, toxic relationship, mentions of cheating and sexual activities, mentions of torture, suicide and death, threats of sequestration... But Bo loves you 🥺

Bo had tied up the girl on the chair and had glued her lips together because he didn’t want to hear her screams.

He just needed to take his anger out and she was perfect for that, especially after what she just did. He was beating her with violence and insulting her.

“Ya saw this, whore?” he told her as he showed her his wedding ring “Kissin’ a married man, ya bitch, and believin’ I'd want ya” he said as he punched her face one more time. Her cheeks and eyes were already starting to swollen as her nose and lips were bleeding. He was about to break her fingers one by one, when he heard the door being opened which made him pause. He really hoped it wasn’t you because he didn’t want you to see him covered in blood like that. You were already afraid of him, no need to add more to it.

He was very confused when he saw Vincent coming downstairs and he turned his back to the girl who tried to scream for help.

“Better be important, Vince. Can’t ya see ’m busy right now?” he asked Vincent who started to angrily sign:

"It’s about your wife. Important enough for you?"

“... Ya know she is.” Bo nodded, a little bit worried now.

"Well Y/N thinks you are cheating on her and soon going to kill her! I promise her you were going to kill that bitch in front of her, but you better think of something very fast or you are going to lose her forever."

“What?” Bo was completely taken aback. He felt his heart sinking inside his chest. “But I love her, none of this’ true” he whispered

"Well if you hadn’t fucking hurt her the last morning and if she hadn’t seen you kissing that slut, maybe things would be better right now, fucking idiot!"

“How? What was she doin’ here?” Bo wondered, not even caring about the way Vincent was talking to him.

"Don’t know, don’t care. Bring the girl for a public execution. Because of you, I won’t even be able to use her body for the House of Wax or anything. No need to upset Y/N even more. Good job, really." Vincent paused for a few moments. "Fuck, Bo, don’t tell me you’re cheating on your wife."

“O’course not!” Bo exclaimed as he turned around and gave another vengeful punch on the girl’s face.

She lost consciousness and he started to untie her. Vincent helped Bo bring her back to the house to show you she meant nothing to your husband. 

The eldest Sinclair brother was silent as he was trying to think on how he could fix the situation with you. He also was wondering what you were doing at his garage. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that you came to earn cuddles from him - even if he would have been more than happy to drop his work to show you how sorry he was. 

When you saw the two men in the house, you had to admit you were a little bit relieved to see that Bo’s hands were covered in the girl’s blood and that he didn’t seem like he was in the middle of fucking her when Vincent interrupted him. Bo let the girl fall on the ground without a care in the world and quickly walked to you to cup your face in one hand. You refused to look at him at first but he forced you. He needed to see your eyes and he looked for them before telling you:

“Ain’t cheatin’ on ya, wife”

You swallowed hard and you fought against the thought that he seemed sincere. You removed your face from his hand and looked away. But he grabbed your face once again, in a very gentle way.

“I mean it. Ain’t cheatin’ on ya.” he insisted

“Then why were you kissing that girl?” you asked, gesturing with your head toward the woman

“And what were ya doin’ at the garage?” he asked back and it made you frown.

“Bo” Lester rolled his eyes at his big brother and Vincent also groaned in disapproval at Bo’s question, saving you from answering. 

“Alright, alright” Bo grumbled as he let go of your face and knelt in front of you “She jumped on me, didn’t have time to stop her. Didn’t ya see me pushin’ her away? And once downstairs, I wasn’t… Ya can ask Vince, I was beatin’ her to death when he came. Ya can see the state of her face” he softly told you and you looked at the woman. Vincent roughly grabbed her by the hair to show you her face, and you had to admit she wasn’t looking too good. She groaned in pain as she was slowly getting back to reality.

“What do ya think, sis?” Lester asked you and you nibbled on your bottom lip. 

It was true that it didn’t seem that Bo was cheating on you with that girl in particular. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to kill you, and it didn’t mean you shouldn’t find a way out of Ambrose whenever you would be able to.

“Just kill her already. But not on my floor. I don’t want blood everywhere” you finally replied.

The boys relaxed a little, because you still seemed to consider this house as your home. Hence, it meant you weren’t going to leave. Bo kissed your forehead and you had to resist the urge to flinch away from him. He grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her out of the house. Lester and Jonesy stayed by your side as the twins quickly put her out of her misery. She was quite lucky you had been there or your husband would have tortured her for hours before killing her. 

“How feelin’?” Lester asked you and you simply shrugged

“Gonna grab that nap now” you replied and he nodded.

“Sounds like a plan, love” he agreed and he helped you to get up and followed you upstairs. He tucked you to bed and wished you to sleep well before closing the door behind him. Jonesy stayed with you and settled at your feet. You took comfort in her presence.

You did sleep a few hours, but you woke up covered in sweat, with the very clear thought that you needed to run away now. You didn’t remember the dream you had before waking up, but it was obviously a nightmare. You were feeling absolutely panicked. It woke up Jonesy who asked to get out of the room. So you got up, opened the door for her and then you frantically started to look for clothes in your wardrobe. You needed to find an outfit you would be comfortable in and you needed good shoes and…

You heard a very soft knock at the door and you froze, as Bo slowly opened it. He was about to ask you how you were doing and if you were hungry, when he saw you. Your hair was sticking to your forehead. You looked like a deer caught in headlights; you looked almost ill. He locked the door before coming closer to you. The gesture alone made you sick.

“Whatcha doin’?” he softly asked, his blue eyes piercing yours. 

“Just… looking for clothes… I need a shower. I’m not feeling too well” you replied, half the truth, aware he would instantly know if you were lying to him.

“Still thinkin’ ‘m cheatin’ on ya?” he asked as he took a step closer to you and your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t trust your voice so you simply shook your head. “But ya’re still afraid ’m gonna kill ya?” he asked again and you cursed yourself for having said that to Vincent and Lester. You should have been smarter.

“I just need a shower. Please let me unlock the door” you said because you were just unable to sincerely reply to this question. You grabbed an outfit, without even really looking at it and you tried to walk past him but he grabbed your wrist.

“I know I shouldn’t’ve hurt ya” he said as he brought you closer to him. He took the clothes you had in your hands and threw them on the bed. He took both of your hands in his. “I was worried my wife wanted to go. O’course, I shouldn’t’ve reacted that way. But even if ya’re afraid of me, for the moment, ya don’t want to go no more? Ya know your place’s in Ambrose, by my side, right? Ya know I want ya and only ya? Ya know I’ll never let ya go anyways?” he whispered to you with a gentle smile

“Is it a threat?” you asked as you tried to stay strong. He quickly shook his head

“Ah baby, it’s just a promise. We’re married, remember? Together 'till the end.” he mused as he stroked your nose with his.

“Yes, untill you kill me” you told him and he looked back at you, his head moving to the side. It was really saddening for him.

“What were ya doin’ at my garage earlier?” he asked but you didn’t answer “where ya trying to find a way out? Did ya think ya could find some help?” he asked and you looked away. He grabbed your face, a little less gently than earlier that day “Answer, Y/N” he sternly told you and you heard the danger just under the surface of his calm voice

“I wanted to find a way out, yes” you admitted and it made Bo groan in anger.

“And why that? Don’t ya know it’s your duty to stay by my side, as my wife?” he asked you as he pushed you against the nearest wall. You just wanted to cry again but you didn’t want to give him that kind of power over you.

“And you, isn’t it your duty to take care of me? To be good to me? As my husband?” you asked back “You hadn’t been nice to me in weeks. You even did this to me then” you continued as you moved a hand on your sore and bruised throat.

Bo stayed silent and his dark demeanour instantly disappeared. He tenderly stroked your cheek before bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss.

“Don’t be afraid and don’t leave, and things will go back to normal” he promised

“I’m afraid, Bo” you replied

“It won’t happen again. I’ll do better. But don’t try to leave” he warned you

“Or what? You'll kill me?” you insisted, even though you knew you were playing with fire in this instant

“But love, why would I do that?” he asked as he pressed himself even more against you. You could feel his breath against your face “Don’t want to kill my wife. I want ya here, with me, forever” he whispered to you

“You can always ask Vince to turn me into a wax statue” you said and he let escape a humourless laugher

“A wax statue wouldn’t argue, talk and flirt with me, wouldn’t make love to me, wouldn’t tell me it loves me… Ya still love me, wife?” he asked as his lips were almost against yours but you turned your head to the side to prevent him from kissing you “Oh com’on, doll, ‘m missin’ ya so badly” he whined

“So what would you do if I left? You said…” you started but he cut you off

“Ya know that when ‘m angry, I say stuff I don’t mean. But I do mean that ya better don’t try to leave. I would indeed hunt ya down and bring ya back to Ambrose, where ya belong”

“And that’s all?” you asked, you needed to know what Bo had planned for you

“And I would tie ya up on that bed until ya would behave like a good girl. If I need to lock ya up inside the house to keep ya here, be certain it’s what I’ll do, without a second of hesitation. So do I need to tie ya up, love? Or will ya be a good girl to me?” he asked

You didn’t even need to think; you cupped his face with both your hands and you crashed your lips against his. You didn’t want to be tied up. You didn’t want to lose the small freedom you still had by badly reacting now. You were still afraid but you needed to be smart. Bo instantly replied to the kiss, so happy to finally be allowed to touch you that way. He was passionate, but also so gentle with you, as if he was afraid he could break you if he was too forceful. His hands were soon all over your body, enjoying to feel you. You were a drug to him, and not being able to touch you was quickly making him lose it. His lips trailed down from your mouth to your throat. He left very tender little kisses all over your skin, as a silent way to apologise for what he did. 

“Fuckin’ love ya” he whispered to you “Ya know that, right? Would go completely insane without ya in my life. That’s why I can’t let ya go. That’s why I needed us to get married. I’m gonna be good to ya, I swear. As long as ya don’t try to go” he murmured to you in between kisses.

You simply nodded because you had no idea what to answer to this. You were a little bit surprised by such words and touch, and you wanted to believe him. You wanted to let go of your fear of the man, and you wanted things to go back to normal.

But something was broken now, and Bo would need to work very hard to fix this, and a lot of time and patience for things to truly go back to normal.

“Still love me, right?” he insisted because you hadn’t answered when he had first asked you. He slightly moved from you to observe you, eagerly waiting for those three little words to resume his kisses and lovingly caresses. You nodded.

“Of course, I love you” you said and the man instantly smiled and went back to loving on you.

It was then it hit you: you might have married a very dangerous man who could so easily kill you, he was a lost puppy without you.

“Hey, Bo” you said and he looked up at you. “I don’t want you to take care of the women anymore.” you told him

“Anythin’ you wanna” he nodded

“And if you ever hurt me again… I’ll make sure, you’ll never have me again either” you promised him and he frowned without understanding

“What?” he softly asked

“Married 'till the end, you said, and you’re not the only one who can kill me. I can too” you explained and his eyes widened

“Y/N” he whined “Don’t say such things” he whimpered, knowing he wouldn’t last more than a few hours without you in his life. And he couldn’t fight Death. 

His lips found yours again, hoping to make you stop saying such horrible words and promises. He wouldn’t let anything happen to his wife. He would rather die.

However Bo never forgot those words.

Like you never tried to run away from him anymore.

--

Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21

[lacontroller1991]

Rumors (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Misc Master List

Summary: After you believed he was dead, it comes as a shock to you that he's alive and wrecking havoc.

Warnings: 18+, HEAVY LANGUAGE, drug usage, drinking, mention of cannibalism, violence, gun slinging, blood, nudity, fighting

Author's Note: I swear I'll work on my other requests but the Cooper Howard brain rot is REAL and its STRONG, anywho, first time so let me know how you guys like it :)

Word Count: 3k

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In the wastelands of California, rumors get you killed and you’ve heard rumors. Whispers of his return. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. Since he left you on your own in the middle of a gun fight to collect his bounty; and it nearly cost you your life. 

The last you’ve heard about him was that he was 6 feet deep and locked in a coffin with no way of escaping, unless someone purposely dug him out. Yet, you can’t think of a single person who would. Still, rumors spread like wildfire, and you’d be damned if you don’t try and get revenge.

-----------

The California sun beats down on your back. The heat weighs you down, but not as much as the pain in your chest. He let you believe that he cared about you. He really fooled you into a sense of partnership, romance, but you really should’ve known. Cooper Howard is a lone wolf, nothing and nobody will stand in his way. 

The site of Filly in the distance is a welcoming sight. If anyone has seen anything, it would have been here. It doesn’t take you long to cross the remaining distance, sweat dripping down your back as you enter the market. 

“Haven’t seen ya in a while (Y/N).” A local merchant snides with a creepy smile, showcasing his rotten teeth. Walking over to your side, he runs a hand down your arm and you resist the urge to gag. “What are ye in town for?” 

“Information.” You eye the stairs that are being fixed, along with other wooden structures, a signature sign that he’s been here.

“Looking for your Ghoul, huh?” His face is offly close to yours and it’s enough for you to draw your gun, casually pressing it into his side, causing him to instantly back off. “He was here two days ago. Got in a firefight with a knight, seemed like he was after a bounty.” You scoff. Of course he is. Anything for those damn vials. Vials. At the thought of vials a malicious smile forms on your face. Sooner or later, he will need to get more, and you’ll be there when he does. 

Holstering your gun, you flip him a bottle cap in appreciation before stalking off, heading to the one place you know he will be.

By the time the sun sets, you’re settled in an abandoned building, low enough to the ground where you can see what’s coming, but high enough to be out of any immediate danger. Wrapping your arms around yourself tighter, you can’t help but to think about the times where you and him would be shoulder to shoulder, barely touching, but enough to make butterflies fly in your stomach.

Despite his ghoulish appearance, you find him to be quite handsome. His rugged cowboy exterior does barely enough to hide the last shred of humanity he has, and at times, it was directed towards you. With a sigh, you let your eyes shut, sleep easily consuming over you.

-----------

“Please, let me go.” A feminine voice stirs you from your unconsciousness as your eyes blink against the harsh light of the sun. “Please, sir, I’m begging you.” Shuffling slightly, you peer your head past the concrete wall, spotting two figures, one in a blue/yellow vault-tec suit and the other in a cowboy hat with a lasso around the girl. 

“Well I’d be damned,” it’s hushed and to yourself, afraid of him hearing you and spotting you.

“I done told you vaultie, ain’t gonna happen. You deaf or sum?” His drawl sends chills down your spine as he nudges her forward with the tip of his gun. “Now hur-” his words are cut off by a coughing fit but his grip on the lasso remains. After regaining his breath, he wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “Hurry up. I ain’t got all day.” You watch in silence as the pair walks past your hideout, unaware of your existence. Grabbing your things, you rush off after them, making sure to stay in the shadows as your brain goes through different scenarios of what could happen. Would you and Cooper make up? Would he try to kill you? Would you try to kill him? Does he even care? The closer they get to the supermart, the more you hang back, hand slightly hovering over your gun. 

Trying to listen to the conversation, you strain your ears but to no avail. Peeking over an abandoned car, you focus your eyes on the situation ahead of you, watching as he gestures for the girl to go through the sliding glass door. The minute they shut, he collapses on the ground and you resist the urge to go and help him. Sighing, you open the bag at your side, rummaging through a variety of equipment before your fingers run over the cool glass of the vials that keep him sane. “That’s just ironic,” you chuckle, looking back to him still laying on the ground, a slight tang of pity radiating through your chest. If there’s anything you hate about yourself, it’s that. You’re too soft for people who have no problem leaving you out to dry. 

You could confront him now, kick him while he’s down, but being dramatic is more fun. It’s useless trying to talk to him when he’s in that sorry state. 

An hour later and you’re still outside, covering from the sun and waiting for the right moment to make your appearance. The sight of the vaultie walking alone gathers your attention as you keep out of sight? Now how the hell did she manage to escape? You’re not an idiot, everyone and their mamas know that the SuperDuper Mart takes in bodies and harvests the organs, selling them to the highest bidder. So how on this God forsaken planet did she escape practically unscathed? As she walks further away you ponder the possibility that maybe you and everyone on the surface has really underestimated the ones who live below. 

Once she is out of sight, you rush out from your hiding spot and toward the mart, hoping to find him. “Well, he isn’t where I saw him last,” you huff out, drawing your gun from its holster as you walk through the glass door, keeping your eyes vigilant. With the mart being practically empty aside from overturned themed rides, it’s easy to hear a person stumbling around, knocking stuff over. 

By the time you spot him, his back is to you, head tipped slightly back as he downs a bottle of alcohol he found. The sound of you cocking your gun causes him to freeze in place, and if you were facing him, you would spot the smile on his face. 

“You ain’t gonna shoot me now, are ya?” Your silence is deafening and you don’t move an inch, not really sure if you would actually shoot him or not.  “Was wonderin’ when you were gonna find me.”

“It’s pretty easy to find a drug addicted ghoul these days, especially ones that have a penchant for the dramatics.” You keep your gun trained on his back as he slowly turns around, dropping the glass bottle and letting it shatter to the floor. 

“Me? Dramatic? I don’t think I’m the dramatic one sweetheart. You’re the one who came in here, guns blazing. I think you’re the dramatic one.” He takes a step forward, and another, and another, until his chest is pressed right against the nozzle of your gun. “Now why don’t you put your gun down and give Coop a big ki-” your gun whacks across his face, tearing the flesh slightly only for it to heal right away, causing him to growl. His gloved hand reaches up and wraps around your throat, hoisting you against the wall while you struggle in his grasp. “That’s no way to greet me. Where are your manners?” He asks, his southern accent penetrating each word.

“Fucker,” raising a leg, you kick between his with all you can muster and spit on his face, the shock being enough to let you loose and allowing you to slip out. 

He looks at you for a second before laughing sadistically, using his thumb to collect your spit and put it in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he was savoring it. “I missed you kitten.”

Scoffing, you holster your gun and take a seat on the couch, turning your attention to the tv where you spot a young, handsome, human Cooper Howard on the screen. “Really Coop? You’re that full of yourself?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he plops down next to you before taking another bottle and giving that a swig. “Was the only half decent shit in this hell hole,” at the mention of the place, you take a proper look around, bodies laying everywhere, some human, some ghoul, and even a robot.

“The fuck happened here?”

“Was traveling with a vault dweller, traded her for some vials but I guess she didn’t take too well to the idea of her organs being sold,” he comments nonchalantly, twisting off the cap of a vial and draining the liquid into his mouth while you look at him like he grew two heads. 

“You’re meaning to tell me that that vault dweller managed to do all this?”

“Did I stutter?” Now you know you really underestimated the people in the vaults. You honestly wonder if they’re all like this or is she just some random four leaf clover. “Why’d you come in here raisin hell anyway?”

Leaning back on the couch, you look forward to the tv, trying to concentrate on the handsome man on the screen instead of the one sitting next to you, “heard you were dead.”

“The details of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Still doesn’t answer my question,” he looks at you with a look that says ‘I frankly don’t give a shit’ but something deep down inside of you tells you that he does. 

“I’m pissed as hell that you left me. I thought we were partners?” Rolling his eyes, he laps at a random white powder laying on the table before leaning back.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. Didn’t see a need to stick around. You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted. Seemed like a fair trade.” 

A sigh escapes your mouth as you take the bottle from his one hand and downed it, scrunching your nose as the alcohol burns down your throat and lights a fire in your stomach. How can he be so naive? You had initially joined him when you were both after the same group of people, but for vastly different reasons. He had wanted the large bounty on the head of the leader and you wanted to find your past lover, but somewhere along the route to finding them you developed feelings for the Ghoul sitting next to you, and you thought he developed them too. You initially didn’t spot him when the shooting started, too occupied with the Ghoul pressing his back against yours, the two of you working in tandem. Everything happened so fast and before you knew it, you were the only one shooting back at the group of people, most of them lying dead and your companion nowhere to be seen. The bounty was also gone.

He had left you on your own and it hurt. It also didn’t help that once the shooting was over and you remained, you found your former lover in the arms of another. It’s true that you found who you wanted, but at what cost? Was it really your lover than you wanted or was it Cooper Howard, the Ghoul, who you wanted?

Realistically, you know the answer. It’s pretty obvious by the way that when you heard he was alive, you practically dropped everything in pursuit of him. Taking another swig of the alcohol you ponder over your next course of actions. Should you admit your feelings for him or should you leave it? Looking back at the tv, you watch the former Cooper Howard get down from his horse, gun in hand and hat tipped ever so slightly over his eyes, much like how the man next to you does. He’s never going to be the same man again, you know that, but maybe he still has the ability to love? “I love you, you know?”

Cooper looks over to you with a puzzled look on his face before it goes blank and your heart sinks. If there was any sort of superpower you could have right now, it would 100% be mind reading. “You’re stupid.” 

“Right. Yep. Totally.” You’re pissed. You took a gamble and lost. Laid your heart on the line only for it to be destroyed. Swallowing down your pride, you get up from your seat and holster your gun, taking a couple of vials for safe keeping. “Have a good life Coop.” You don’t bother turning back, tears welling in your eyes. How could you have been so stupid? Of course he doesn’t return the feeling. You kick the dead body out of your way, too overwhelmed with your emotions to realize that he is calling your name. A hand wrapping around your wrist stirs you from your thoughts as he hand spins you around to face him, a soft look gracing his features.

“I ain’t finished,” it’s soft. Softer than anything you’ve ever heard from him but you yank your hand away, rebuilding the walls around your heart.

“I don’t wanna he-” he cuts you off with a rough kiss against your lips, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you close as his scarred lips move against yours. The kiss is rough, demanding, but also loving, intimate. It’s enough to make you dizzy. Pulling away, he keeps you in his grasp as you look up at him through blown eyes, trying to figure out what he’s playing at. “Coop?”

“Shh darlin’. You didn’t let me finish. I said you’re stupid. Stupid for loving someone like me. I’m no good for anyone, especially you, you should know this.” You can tell by the restraint in his voice that he fully means what he’s telling you. Smiling softly, you dust off his duster and pull on his vest, straightening out his clothes as he watches you, not really sure what to make of your intentions. 

“Y’know, there was this one cowboy I met years ago and when I asked how he survived as long as he has and you know what he told me?”

“What’s that?”

“We take it as it comes.” He closes the bridge between the two of you with his mouth against yours, this time it’s more eager. Taking in your bottom lip, he bites hard enough to draw blood, causing you to gasp in surprise. Using that to his advantage, his tongue slips in, exploring every crevice of the mouth that he’s longed for.

“Well ain’t this sweet. We have a ghoul and a ghoulfucker. I wonder what that sex looks like,” you and Cooper pull away abruptly, you eye the three men in sheriff uniforms while Cooper scowls, annoyed by their presence. Moving towards them, Cooper raises his hands in false surrender while you get behind his back, one hand reaching for his shotgun and the other reaching for your own gun, ready to draw at any moment. 

“What can I do for you folks?” The three men eye each other before pointing their guns at Cooper, you still standing behind him, ready to take on each of them.

“Destroying a legitimate business? That’s illegal around these parts,” one speaks up, aviators covering his eyes as he moves around to get a better view of you. “My my, don’t tell me this pretty little thing did all this damage. Why don’t you raise your hands sweetheart, let’s see that gorgeous figure.” 

If looks could kill, that man would be 12 feet under and blasted to high heaven with the biggest nuke Cooper could find. “I’d be careful if I were you, she may be pretty, but she's also a pint sized atom bomb.” His head tilts, telling you all that you needed to know. Reaching for your gun, you quickly shoot the two companions as Cooper lunges for the man who dared to flirt with you. Kicking the gun away from reach, Cooper wraps his hand around the throat of the sheriff and hoists him in the air while you loot their supplies. Turning the men around, you cut their pants off, leaving their backside exposed for Cooper to take his fair share of ass jerky. The man in his grasp squirms at the site of his counterparts being exposed, but Cooper’s grip doesn’t falter.

“Why are you sick freaks doing this?” The man continues to struggle in Cooper’s grasp, hands trying to claw away at skin but to no avail as you load your gun, sliding over to the duo. 

“Wanna do the honors sweetheart?” It’s rare that Cooper offers anybody anything, let alone a kill and it takes you a minute to process his proposal.

“We do this for the love of the game.” A gunshot rings out while the man goes limp in Cooper’s hand, brains splattered on the floor below you. Dropping the man, Cooper’s eyes flit to your body, chest rising and falling as you come off the adrenaline high. 

“Now that was hot as hell sweetheart. You sure know how to make an impression on an old man.” 

“Is that right?”

“‘m afraid so.” His eyes watch as you begin to unbuckle your armor, letting it fall from your frame to the floor.

“Then come and get me cowboy.”

@reveluving

[kindaasrikal]

Lloyd is the type to always overthink every action he has ever taken, and worries if it will affect the relationship or reputation he has. It’s always clouding his mind and he can never seem to forget any mistake, any bad deed, and negative actions he might done (or perceived to have done) and it always weighs him down. Lloyd has always been weak to his mind, and his mind affects his heart, so can you really blame him for feeling like he’s about to throw up and cry whenever he is near the person he has ‘wronged’?

Zane can never look at his body the same anymore. He remembers clear skin, smooth and soft that children enjoyed to hold hands with and elders teased him about. He remembers rusty old metal clinging to him as old as his existence, despite him mind and soul being much younger. Even when the skin peeled off to reveal said metal, that was still his body. It was his, and nothing can replace that. Yet as he keeps being destroyed, tampered with, hurt, and killed, his body is rebuilt over and over again. It is no longer his own body he stared at in the mirror, but a shell that his soul is forever stuck in. This is not his body. His arms were not that long, his hair was not that sleek, his skin not so shiny, and his mouth, so hard to move some days that he just wishes to sit in silence in front of a mirror, looking at everything wrong.

Nya has to be useful. If she is not someone others can use, others can depend and rely on, then what is she other than useless? She has to be good at what she does, she has to protect those who have always protected her, she must always stand tall and sure, even when she wants to wallow away in her brothers-mothers-fathers-lovers-arms. She cannot let her withering thoughts and weakened heart hold her hostage. And as she tries to escape from what she believes will make her useless, she falls deeper in to her insecurities, the shackles she has had on since young growing tighter.

Cole no longer wants to be someone seen. He feels the eyes of others digging into his skin as they wait for his wise words of wisdom, waiting for him to help, to always be a rock when he was always a pebble crumbling from the splashes of responsibility, of expectations warring their way through him. He wants to be free as a bird from the weighing eyes on his back.

Kai cannot live as his own person. He is not just ‘Kai’ but he is ‘Nya’ when he is protective. He is ‘Lloyd’ when he is fighting. He is ‘Cole’ when he is planning. He is ‘Zane’ when he is comforting. He is ‘Jay’ when he is talking. He is ‘Wu’ when he is teaching. He is ‘Garmadon’ when he is tired in grief. He is ‘Misako’ when he must find a way to fix everything. He is ‘Skylor’ when he teases. He is his parent’s child when he looks in the mirror and speaks with his voice. Kai is not just Kai. Kai is everyone he has ever met and cared for. And Kai’s worth is not in how he lives, but in how he sacrifices and changes. Kai is not a whole of who he once was anymore, and Kai cannot see his own worth when everyone else around him is so much more worthy then he has ever been. Kai will always sacrifice, over and over again, whether it be his life or a loved ones, whether it be something he wants or something he needs. He is more dependent than ever and cannot fix such an addicting emotion after being independent for so long.

Jay must always keep himself in check, making sure he is playing his part perfectly. He cannot make a mistake, he cannot be a shadow and he cannot be in the centre stage. He must be in the middle as he plays his role of something he isn’t. He is scared to be insignificant yet the eyes of judgement digging into him terrify him like nothing else. It scares him to think that one fatal mistake can ruin it all for him, set him back years of effort and of work of pretending to be someone he isn’t.

Bah i got lazy for a few but this is all i can throw at you lot for now

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR THINGS DONE WHILE DANCING *  adjust as necessary, send 'reverse' for the reversal of action prompts

DIALOGUE PROMPTS

that thing you just stepped on? yeah, that was my foot.

you've never danced like this before, have you? i can tell.

you're rather good at this.

where did you learn to dance like this?

i'm sure i'm not the only one you've danced with.

i don't know what i'm doing.

just follow my lead and i'll help you.

you're a lousy dance partner.

is that your perfume i smell?

i'll be with you the whole time. follow me.

it's an honor to dance with you.

i could kiss you right now.

i never thought i'd get the chance to dance with you again.

i like to keep things spontaneous.

mind if we dance?

you clean up nice.

figured it was time i stepped in.

what were you doing, dancing with them?

i've waited my whole life for a moment like this.

if you dip me, i'll kill you.

i think the song's over.

well... that was nice.

you look lovely in that dress, by the way.

can we go again?

just put your hand on my shoulder.

i didn't know you could dance!

do you remember the last time we danced like this?

you're doing wonderfully. you look like an expert.

when's the last time i danced with you?

you deserve this, you know.

everyone's watching us.

what would you do if i kissed you?

just keep your eyes fixed on me.

ignore the staring. they'll get over it.

take hold of my hand and let me guide you.

may i have this dance?

i was hoping i'd meet you out here on the dance floor.

dance with me. don't make me go out there alone.

is this the part where we kiss?

ACTION PROMPTS

[ cut in ] sender interrupts receiver as they dance with someone else and requests to dance with receiver, instead

[ dip ] sender dips receiver at the end of the song

[ guide ] sender places receiver's hands in the correct position for a formal dance

[ slide ] sender's hand slips down to receiver's hip as they dance

[ stumble ] sender and receiver make a mistake in their dancing and stumble over each other

[ laugh ] sender and receiver attempt to dance, but can't help themselves from crumbling into a laughing fit

[ private ] sender encourages receiver to dance with them in the privacy of their own home with no one around

[ silence ] sender and receiver start dancing without any music

[ groove ] sender and receiver perform funky, silly dances together, overexaggerating to make each other laugh

[ oops ] sender keeps stepping on receiver's feet and apologizing each time

[ almost ] sender and receiver finish their dance and stare into each other's eyes, transfixed, nearly about to kiss

[ teach ] sender gives receiver a proper lesson on how to dance

[ classes ] sender and receiver meet at a dance class

[ slow ] sender and receiver slow dance together

[ tender ] in the middle of a dance, sender reaches out to fix receiver's hair/clothes

[ interrupt ] someone tries to interrupt sender and receiver as they dance

[ forbidden ] sender and receiver are not supposed to be seen together... but they end up dancing together anyway

[ sensual ] sender and receiver participate in a sensual, romantic dance

[ cooking ] while cooking with music on, sender and receiver humorously dance around the kitchen (using utensils as microphones in the process)

[ first dance ] sender and receiver share their first dance at their wedding

[ first kiss ] in the midst of dancing together, sender and receiver finally have their first kiss

[norel-ravenclaw]

Hazbin Hotel Scenarios

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Featured characters: Alastor, Sir Pentious, Charlie, Angel, Husker, Lucifer, Niffty, Vox, Vaggie, Rosie, Zestial

Rating: sfw; occasional scenarios that hint at reader x character, minor angst and drinking

Description: Random scenarios with Hazbins!

PLEASE ask me to write stuff for Hazbin or Helluva!

- Meeting Rosie and having lunch with her and Alastor, he’s so pleased that you two get along so well. Gossiping after shop hours at Mimzy’s club.

- You find a plushie that reminds you of your fave. (A deer, a spider, a chibi tv character, a snake! So cute!) You’re careful to hide it, but one day they catch you and tease you about it.

- You’re sitting in the hotel lobby at the end of the day, listening to music, and Angel gets home. He leans over the back of the sofa and asks what you’re listening to. You offer him one of your ear buds and laugh at his reaction.

“What is this?”

“Electro swing. You could say I was inspired~” You jump up and grab his hand, urging him to dance with you.

Husker raises a brow at you both from behind the bar, dancing like idiots without music, but you both look so happy, he can’t help but smile.

Alastor walks into the room and sees you attempting swing dancing. Curious, he uses his magic to have the radio pick up the music from your phone.

You notice him and let him join in, trying to teach you the right way to swing. (You’ve never seen him look genuinely happier.)

Angel grabs Husk and makes him dance too.

Hearing the music downstairs, Sir Pentious and Charlie peek down to see what’s happening. Charlie gasps in delight and races to find Vaggie so they can dance.

You end up dancing between everyone there. Even Nifty joins in (making her cockroach puppets dance).

Lucifer gets back in the middle of things, and Charlie gleefully spins over to him, pulling him into the fray and pushing him to you. He tries to apologise for bumping into you, but you’re whisking him into the dance before he can finish.

- Being in hell, being dead, that’s kinda a lot sometimes. Angel’s days are always a lot. So the two of you cuddle basically every time you’re in the same room.

- Charlie, in her bid to find ways for her guests to connect, searches the human realm internet for pictures of everyone. Despite the odds, she somehow manages it.

You’re coming downstairs while she and Nifty are setting up the projector, a very familiar picture of you larger than life on the wall.

Angel awws from the sofa and Husker smacks him.

Then his own picture comes up, a handsome gangster looking man from the twenties.

Now it’s full blown wolf whistles.

Then…

“Alastor?? Damn…”

Angel hears you and grins. “Right?”

“I’d let him kill me~”

The man in question steps in with a complicated smile. “Oh my. I’ll not even ask how you managed to get ahold of such a thing.”

Charlie squeals in excitement. “It took me three weeks! Ooh, Angel is next!”

A… skilfully cropped picture is next of him.

Sir Pentious comes down the stairs behind you (you’re still impressed that the snake can navigate stairs) and gasps when his own portrait comes up in the slideshow. “Oh my ssstars!”

“Woah, check out those luscious locks Pen,” Angel says.

Everyone gets a drink after that.

- Alastor smiling so softly at you when he takes you to Cannibal Town and you think the old architecture is pretty. A band is playing in a nearby gazebo… more impromptu dancing. A chance to fix your embarrassing lack of skill, he insists.

- You’re going to bed one night and happen to see Sir Pentious coming out of his room without his top hat, and you’re frozen for a second.

“Oh, hello. Er, isss something wrong?”

“N-no! Sorry, it’s just… your uh… It looks like you have the most amazing hair, the way the black comes around your face… It’s pretty… Sorry, sorry this is so weird, I’m sorry goodnight!”

You slam your bedroom door, leaving him a blushing mess.

- Angel is teasing you about something (or someone) and says something about calling them Daddy.

“Ugh, I’m not calling anyone that!”

“No? Husky, whaddya think about him?”

He glares at us while wiping down a glass and you shrug. “I mean he’s definitely daddy material, but I’m still not calling him that.”

Angel bursts out laughing before Husker throws a glass at you both.

- Imagine being brilliant with social media, blowing up your tiny one person business overnight in helping people promote their stuff, and catching the attention of the Vees. Telling them casually the solutions to problems they’ve been trying to solve for months. Their looks of impressed and interested awe.

- You were out for the day with Lucifer and Alastor, knowing they had a meeting with the overlords later. You wait outside, and Zestial, uncharacteristically running almost late, passes you by on the way in. You are a bit old fashioned, and the way you politely incline your head to him makes him stop in his tracks and ask your name. Perhaps it is worth noting a soul such as yourself…

- Every time you appreciate something from the 20’s/30’s, Alastor gets so happy and clingy with you. Everyone comments how touchy is is with you and just to spite them he starts doing it more.

- Bumping into your fave in the small but densely packed library, with collections from both Charlie and Lucifer. Reading together in comfortable silence. (Or scrolling on their phone as they’re escaping someone/something.)

- Helping Charlie pirate human realm leadership podcasts as she’s stepping into her role more.

- Making a (non magical) deal with Alastor after Lucifer screams at him one too many times for not listening to his voicemails. For every technological or modern world bit of information you share, he’ll teach you something from his own era.

- Finding Alastor tinkering on old radios he collects, sleeves rolled, jacket off. Losing your mind over his deer tail and scrambling - failing - to hide your sheer delight. Finally breaking down and confessing that it’s absolutely darling~ He threatens to kill you and you agree it would be justified. He huffs and nods you over to his desk. He could use a second pair of hands. Or maybe he just wants to electrocute you so you can never tell a soul what you just saw, he says with a smile.

- Vox was there from the beginning days of television, and as much as he knows how brutal the entertainment business is, he still secretly likes a bunch of old fashioned shows and movies that no one ever talks about. He’d be so happy if you threw a vintage movie night for him and let him ramble about the good old days~ Dust off his warehouse collection of old memorabilia and string up lights and he’ll ask you to marry him.

- Going shopping with Angel! Snack and lunch stops are a must.

- Husker is dead on his ass drunk, having a breakdown on the stairs one night. Bottle in one hand, head resting on the bannister posts. You come downstairs for a midnight snack, and seeing him sitting there, you decide to sit on the other end of the step. You don’t say a word, just letting your tail wrap around his and mirroring his own position with your head on the railing post too. You just sit there together for fifteen minutes before he mutters a thanks you can barely hear and heads upstairs.

- Discovering you have Sinner Powers and having eager Morningstars and Alastor help you practice.

- If you hate bugs, helping Nifty make traps for the roaches. She’s your best friend after that. Like it or not.

- Vaggie drunkenly tells you that she secretly wants to see Charlie all princessed up one day. So you and Angel find a dress and fix up her hair (Nifty wants to help! The end result is amazing, but she might have to cut off her hair to get out all the tiny braids, whooops.) Vaggie has a conniption when she sees her and starts stumbling over her words and everything. Alastor puts on a record for them to waltz to. Lucifer is there. He definitely cries. 5000%.

- Going to visit Rosie on your own and getting allll the tea on Alastor~

[hollandorks]

fright

battinson! bruce wayne x gn! reader

summary: in the midst of investigating a drug that kills people with their own fear, Bruce is drugged.

**not affiliated with middle of the night**

a/n: I'm back with something new, finally! I've been wanting to write this for a while, just for fun, because the battinson brain rot still hasn't gone away in over a year. Hopefully I'll be doing more oneshots from here on out! I tried to make this reader as gender neutral as possible but if I slipped up anywhere let me know so I can fix it!

word count: 7081

The abandoned subway station is cold and damp but comfortingly familiar. 

Alfred had simply waved you downstairs to get started on your work while Bruce was out on patrol. That was one thing about constantly being around a vigilante–it turned you into a night owl, the changes almost imperceptible until you can no longer fall asleep on your own before two in the morning, even in the comfort of your own apartment. Sometimes you aren’t sure if it was because you’re used to working late on your nights working with Bruce…

Or if you couldn’t fall asleep until you knew Gotham’s vigilante was home safe again after another night. 

So since you’re a night owl these days, you’ve taken to doing your work in the darkest parts of the night, comfortable with commuting after dark. Though Alfred and Bruce both insisted on you keeping a guest room in Wayne Tower when you work late, as neither of them are comfortable with you walking Gotham alone at night. Sometimes the city’s resident vigilante watches over you, but for those other times–those other times you stay in the drafty room set aside for you, one floor below Bruce’s bedroom. 

You aren’t sure you’re supposed to know where Bruce’s bedroom is, exactly. But unbeknownst to the man himself, you’ve helped Alfred twice now haul his huge frame to bed when he’d passed out from either exhaustion or severe injuries. And as it was, it never came up in conversation that you had seen his bedroom, the space just as cluttered as the subway station belowground was. 

You wouldn’t admit, either, that may or may not have snooped. His bedroom was neat, but organized in a way only his mind seemed to understand, the same as where he kept everything Batman-related. The bedroom closet was full of dark colors and clothes that were at least a decade old, and a full row of the black work boots he preferred to wear with his armor, some scuffed and torn beyond recognition, a couple of pairs almost new. 

It isn’t a secret, exactly, but you knew Bruce well enough by now to know he probably wouldn’t like that you’d seen his bedroom without permission. 

It’s his bedroom you think of now as you sit down to work at your designated desk in the abandoned station. The space was less lived in that the basement around you. Did Bruce prefer the bats for company? Or was the tower above too full of ghosts for him to face? Either way, he spends more of his time downstairs than up. There’s even a ratty secondhand couch shoved to one side where he seems to do most of his sleeping. You’ve seen him crash there more times than you could count. 

You stretch already-cold fingers and boot up the multiple computer screens that have become yours even though you only own the laptop. 

You’ve been working with him for a few months now, the connection pure chance, as most things in your life were. Your move to Gotham, your skill with computers, your meeting with a kevlar-covered vigilante. It was all chance, a force you believe in almost as much as you believe in gravity. 

It had been a beautiful night that night, which really should have been your first clue that it was all going to hell. You were taking a simple walk to clear your head after a long day at work. You’d hated the corporate job you were working at, which was, ironically enough, at Wayne Enterprises. 

That night was the first time you were acquainted with Gotham’s dark, violent underbelly. It was also the first time you met the man you’d thought was simply an urban legend–the Batman, a shadow turned savior at the moment you thought it would all be over. 

He’d disappeared as your thanks rose to your lips, swallowed up by the night before you could utter the words. 

The second time you met Batman was by chance, too. You’d gotten some information on a crime and, well, you had done the not-so-smart thing and used your computer skills to follow the lead. 

Batman had followed the same lead through different methods. 

Showing up at the same place at first led him to suspect you, but once you’d pulled out your laptop and proven how you’d gotten the information by using Gotham’s surveillance cameras to track the assholes down, he was curious. He wanted you to show him exactly how you’d done it. He’d revealed his curious mind to you that night, and that was the first piece of him you developed a crush on. 

The sharp jawline didn’t hurt, either. 

You smile to yourself as your fingers work over the keyboard to the computer in front of you. These days, he has you scouring surveillance cameras, police scanners, and internet forums for leads on cases. You also have your not-so-legal hacking skills to accomplish those things. And that’s in between the research you do on current cases. Not to mention the extra work you do behind his back to keep Batman’s identity from ever getting out–not that he needs to know that, not yet. It’s mostly deleting everything you can get your hands on that discusses his possible identity, whether it’s really far off base or a little too close to home.

It’s a lot of work, but you love it. You’d barely given it a thought when Bruce–before you’d known his identity–had asked you to help him. You’d said yes before the question had been fully finished. 

Tonight, Bruce is staking out the seedier parts of Gotham trying to track down a new drug. At least, you think it’s a new drug. Several people have turned up dead, their features marred by their own hands, with something unknown in their bloodstreams. The medical examiner said it seemed as if they had all been…frightened to death, the levels of cortisol and adrenaline in their blood sky high. 

Right now you have your computers working in the background to monitor police chatter, any hints from the dark web, and anything else you can think of to track down the source of the drug. While the program works to search for keywords and phrases on one of your three monitors, the other two screens are split between all of the ME reports and the information on each victim and real-time video feeds from every camera in the city you can get your hands on. 

Bruce doesn’t know that you’re trying to watch his back while working the case. 

You worry about him, even though he’s probably the most capable person you’ve ever met. 

The third time you’d met him he’d shown up at your apartment bleeding everywhere. He hadn’t even known he was bleeding everywhere. He’d gotten into a fight while tracking you down to get you to use your skills on another case and simply ignored his injuries in favor of keeping his goal. 

Luckily, a few days earlier you’d sliced your finger open while cooking and had some of the weird liquid bandaid stuff you’d been using. There’d been a ghost of a smile on Bruce’s face when you’d run and gotten it for him. He’d thanked you softly, and then gone back to being all-business as you worked on the gash on his arm. As you’d bandaged the cut, he told you about the case he was working, and how your computer skills would really help him out. 

He started turning up more frequently after that, asking for help on cases. Until the day he’d asked if you wanted a permanent position helping him–paid and everything. 

And now here you were, in his innermost circle, allowed to know everything about him. At least, as much of everything as he let anyone know. 

Your computer pings right as Bruce grunts over the comms. It’s another thing he might not know about, your nightly tuning in to the comms as he goes out. Not that you aren’t allowed, but it’s something you won’t admit to unless directly questioned. 

You sit up straight so fast it sends your desk chair rolling backwards. Fumbling for the edge of your desk to pull yourself forward, you frantically click through tabs to figure out where the alert was coming from. 

A connection. 

Your breath leaves in a rush as you scan the information. 

Then you’re scrambling back for the comms, flipping the mic on, and trying to string a coherent sentence together.

“I found a lead,” you finally manage. It sounds like he’s in the middle of a fight. Oops. You push on, knowing he can hear you even if he can’t respond. “They were all patients at Arkham Asylum at some point. And they all were treated by the same doctor, Jonathan Crane.” 

Bruce starts cursing. There’s a strange hissing noise over the comms. You lightly shake the computer, trying to figure out the source of the static. 

“I know,” he finally says. The hissing has stopped, but now there’s a new noise. A familiar noise. The sound of his motorcycle revving to life. 

“Wh–how?” you say, unsure how he found out before you did. 

There’s more cursing and the sound of the bike speeding up. 

“I’m–shit.” He coughs. “I’m on my way back. Tell Alfred to–” His breath stutters for a moment. “I don’t–” 

“Please tell me you haven’t been stabbed to death,” you say with more bravado than you feel. With one hand, you text Alfred to come downstairs with the first aid kit. 

But the comms have gone silent. Bruce is breathing heavily, the only way you know he’s still there.

“Where were you hit?” you ask. “What street? How bad is it?” 

No answer. Bruce makes a noise that raises every hair on your body. 

It sounds like he’s…afraid.

You scramble to pull up every feed you have and find out where he’s been so you could see what happened. 

In all your months knowing him, you’ve never heard Bruce make such a noise. You’ve never heard him afraid like that. Something about it raises every hair on the back of your neck. 

You search camera after camera on the streets of Gotham, looking for any sign of Bruce at the moment he said he was on his way back. You curse quietly to yourself, the sound of Bruce’s motorcycle engine through the comms filling the echoing space around you. 

Then–there. Grainy as all get out and the only angle is available from a building across the street. But it’s him–there’s no denying the hulking shadow that is the Batman. He’s helping someone, a woman who appears to be screaming though the video has no audio attached. She thrashes and hits at Bruce, seemingly hysterical. 

Then she goes utterly still. You realize that it was about this time where you flipped the comms on to listen. 

Someone steps out of the shadows of the alley in front of them and there’s a sudden small cloud of fog. 

Bruce darts away, hopping on his motorcycle as the figure moves fully into the light. He–because you can see now that it’s a man–looks down at the woman dead on the sidewalk. Then his face tilts upward and you see why Bruce said, I know. 

It was the doctor himself, the one who’d been treating all of the dead patients. 

Jonathan Crane. 

Even with the shitty quality, his face is a clear match for the identification photo linked to Arkham. 

You immediately save images of the video for Gordon to see. Here’s the proof you need–this and the Batman’s testimony of an attack surely are enough to at least get Crane investigated properly. 

Hopefully. 

The small printer starts to spit out the pictures as the roar of a familiar engine abruptly cuts off in the tunnels outside of the station. 

You straighten. 

“Bruce?” you call out uncertainly. Normally he comes tearing in, hopping the motorcycle up on the ramp to be worked on and showing off a bit as he does it, or parking haphazardly near his work tables so he can get straight back to work. In the months you’d known him, he’d never stopped outside of the station for any reason. 

Your heart is somewhere near your feet as you tentatively step forward. 

“Bruce?” you say again, this time much quieter. 

You’re suddenly yanked backwards off your feet as a gloved hand presses against your mouth. You squirm, panicked, trying to get away. You lament all the times you refused Bruce’s self defense lessons.

“Shh, be quiet,” a familiar voice says. 

You relax all at once. 

It’s Bruce. 

Even through his armor, you can feel his heart pounding rapidly. His breath comes in sharp gasps that he struggles to keep quiet. 

He lets you turn in his arms. His eyes are wild, panicked. 

“Where are you hurt?” you murmur quietly. Your eyes track over every inch of him. There’s no blood that you can see, but he’s still in his all-black armor and you’re both tucked in the shadows near the hangar door that opens into the tunnels. You probably wouldn’t be able to see the blood if there was any. 

Bruce is still panting like he’s been running. “They’re coming,” he whispers. You frown. You already checked all the cameras from his route home and the security cameras in the tunnel. He came in alone. 

There’s a quiet noise somewhere in the distance, probably just a bat going to bed for the day, but Bruce yanks you close against his chest and whirls with one fist raised. 

Now you’re afraid, too. Has someone followed him all this way and you missed it somehow? Has someone found his inner sanctum? Are you both in danger? 

Another noise startles you both. 

The elevator descending. 

Bruce’s eyes are wild beneath his mask. 

“It’s Alfred,” you whisper, but Bruce seems not to hear you. 

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he murmurs into your ear, dragging you along with him into the recessed shadows by the elevator. You stumble along, still tucked against his side, the feeling of his breath on your ear lingering and making you shiver. Even though you’re afraid, you feel safe. “We’ll get you help, I promise.” You’re not sure what you need help with, but you remain quiet. 

Bruce has always protected you, whether he knows it or not. 

He physically protects you, sure, watching your back as the Batman, keeping you safe in a city as turbulent as Gotham. But Bruce also has always looked out for your mental health, too. 

There have always been nights where things are just…bleak, whether or not for any particular reason. You withdraw into yourself during those times, much like Bruce himself does. Somehow he always, always knows how to draw you back out. Sometimes it’s a quiet joke, sometimes a request to help him with something, sometimes it’s only his quiet company as he sits and works next to you. 

So even now, as you fear every moving shadow, every noise, thinking someone might be coming after you…

Even now, you know you’ll be safe and protected with Bruce. 

It’s part of why you love him. 

Not that he’d ever know that. 

“Stay put,” Bruce says into your ear, making you shiver all over again. 

He pushes gently on your shoulders in a stay put motion and steps away on silent feet. Even now his grace surprises you, even after months of watching him, being around him. He is a wonder to behold, a massive shadow that becomes weightless in a single breath. It’s like he becomes incorporeal at will, turning into shadow and smoke before he strikes. 

The elevator gates rattle open and Bruce leaps. 

Alfred is on the ground, first aid kit scattering to all corners of the station with a clatter, in barely a blink.

“Bruce!” you half-shout, the instinct automatic. Your voice overlaps with Alfred’s, the echoes sending the bats into a frenzy overhead. 

Bruce goes utterly still, one fist raised like he’s going to hit Alfred. Alfred of all people. He flinches at the bats but his focus is on Alfred. 

Alfred is as calm as ever despite the figure looming threateningly over him. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. “Are you hurt?” 

“Alfred,” Bruce chokes out and the sound is agonized. He seems paralyzed. “I’m sorry, I was too slow–” 

The three of you don’t move. 

You approach slowly. “Bruce?” you say softly, like he’s a wild animal backed into a corner. Because that’s what he looks like–wild, feral, and most of all, scared. You think of the ME reports and have to bite your lip to distract yourself from the fear that brings. 

“You have to–you have to tie me up,” Bruce says, his arm trembling like he’s holding himself back. “He dosed me with–whatever it is.” His eyes dart around the space. 

You straighten as if shocked. “Dr. Crane did?” 

“Yes, he–” Bruce flinches and then refocuses on Alfred, still beneath him and as calm as ever as if it were an everyday experience. “Oh God. No, no, no. No. I’m sorry.” 

Then Bruce does something even more shocking. 

He sobs.

You startle as if a gunshot has gone off. 

You’ve never heard Bruce cry. You’ve never even really seen him sad. Angry, sure. And frustrated. Those seem to be his two main moods, other than generally quiet. The happiness is rare, but you’ve seen that too. 

But you’ve never, ever heard him cry. 

“Bruce?” you say again, uncertain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he groans. “I couldn’t save you, I’m sorry.” He scrambles away from Alfred. His eyes are still wild, darting every which way, his expression frantic under the mask. 

Your brain works quickly through all the evidence you’ve been digging into. 

“It’s making him afraid,” you tell Alfred as the older man gets unsteadily to his feet. Bruce whirls and throws a punch, but there’s nothing there. “Whatever he was dosed with, it’s making him afraid.” 

What you don’t tell Alfred is that this drug most likely scared the other victims to death. 

Your heart pounds with enough fear that you wonder briefly if you’ve been dosed too. 

“If he’s like this, he won’t react well to being tied up,” Alfred says, but he starts moving efficiently, pulling zip ties from Bruce’s belt as he fights invisible foes. 

In one swift movement, Alfred grabs Bruce’s wrist, kicks him in the back of one knee, and grabs the other wrist. 

You gape as he tightens Bruce’s hands behind his back even as he thrashes. 

“No!” Bruce shouts. “Let me go! I have to get there before it’s too late! No!” 

“How did you–?” You stare at Alfred with your mouth open slightly. Alfred is a man of many hidden talents, apparently. 

“We need to get him more secure,” Alfred says, still calm as ever. And maybe, with as long as he’s been around Bruce, this sort of thing is normal. You’ve only been around a few months–Alfred’s been around since the beginning. You wonder just how many times Bruce has gotten himself into messes like this. 

Alfred grunts as Bruce tries to get away. Apparently, Alfred’s strong, even with an old leg injury. You hold the man in high esteem but it just gets higher as you watch him. 

“Tell me what to do,” you say as you straighten your spine. Bruce needs you, and that’s all that matters. You need him to make it through the night–that’s your focus right now. 

“See if you can calm him down long enough for us to get him upstairs. His bed should be sturdy enough for us to tie him to.” Alfred grunts and manages to shove Bruce back to his knees as he rises. 

You quickly kneel in front of Bruce and take his face in your hands. “Bruce? It’s me. It’s okay. Alfred and I are okay.” 

Bruce’s eyes roll around without focus. His breathing is even worse now, each breath rasping out of his chest, his whole body heaving with it. 

You try to push the memory of the crime scene photos out of your mind. Bodies twisted with fear. People who were dosed with whatever this was who died scared out of their minds. 

You’re terrified for Bruce, but you push it away. 

“Bruce, please,” you say, softer now, fingers pressed tightly against his cheeks. You can feel the slight scrape of stubble on your palms. 

Bruce’s brilliant blue eyes finally meet yours. “No,” he says and the desperate word is like a bullet to your heart. His whole body strains towards you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please don’t die.” 

“Bruce, I’m okay,” you say. Your hands fumble before gripping the mask and pulling it off. Bruce cringes away. “I’m okay, I’m not dying.” Your fingers card through his hair. Damp with sweat, it sticks up with the movement. Bruce leans into the touch, and his breathing seems to ease slightly. 

“Y/n,” he mumbles. His eyes close for a second. 

“Bruce, let’s get you upstairs,” Alfred says in a low voice. 

Somehow, the pair of you get him up, hands still tied behind his back, and into the elevator. Bruce keeps repeating his apologies, every sound from his lips pained and terrified. 

“Alfred we need to–to get the drug out of his system somehow, if we can. I don’t know what else to do.” You whisper the words because you’re worried about setting Bruce off even further. You hold tight to his armored elbow. 

“I can get an IV started once we get him settled, that might work.” Alfred furrows his brow. “Y/n…how bad is this drug? What have you found in your research?” 

You hesitate, staring up at Bruce for a moment. His arms jerk in their restraints, but there’s nowhere for him to go in the small space of the elevator. “I don’t know how many people were dosed with it and survived,” you finally admit. 

Alfred goes still and stares at you while absently wrangling Bruce back into the corner. “How many died?” 

“I don’t know. Five, I think. Three for sure. Bruce watched a woman die from it right before he got hit in the face with it.” You chew your lip. Your eyes fill with tears as you meet Bruce’s anguished blue eyes.

“Then we will do everything in our power to keep him alive,” Alfred swears. “After he’s secured, I’ll get the IV started first and then we’ll make sure to monitor his vitals. If it gets too bad…” 

“He won’t be happy if he has to go to the hospital,” you say, but part of you wants to insist that you take him anyway. 

“No!” Bruce shouts as the elevators open. 

You don’t know what he’s responding to, but suddenly he’s frantic again, whatever slight semblance of calm he had in the elevator abruptly gone. He aims a kick at the wall and somehow leverages his bound hands in front of him. 

Alfred curses and shoves Bruce against the same wall. He braces the younger man with his whole body but his bad leg trembles. 

“Go get the medical bag!” Alfred says. “We need to sedate him.” 

You pause. “But what if something reacts with the drug?” 

Alfred curses again. “There’s nothing else to do. We’ll give him as low a dose as we can and keep an eye on him. Go!” 

So you run. Your feet slip over dusty hardwood floors as you scramble as fast as you can for Alfred’s medical bag. The bag is full of everything Alfred might need in a Batman-related emergency in case Bruce couldn’t make it home or even upstairs. The first aid kit is for general injuries–this bag is for when things go to hell. 

It feels as if hours have passed in the short amount of time it took to grab the bag. When you reach the elevator again, Alfred and Bruce are gone. You can hear them in Bruce’s bedroom now and hurry towards them. 

“Get his other arm!” Alfred says as he handcuffs one of Bruce’s hands to his massive wood headboard. 

You scramble up on the bed and over Bruce to do as Alfred says. 

“Let me tie you up, Bruce,” you say gently even though you aren’t sure he can hear you. “Please,” you say as he fights your grip. He’s so much bigger and stronger than you, it’s nearly impossible to even get the handcuffs on his wrist, let alone connected to the other side of the headboard. 

“Alfred,” you say around a grunt. You’re fully straddling Bruce now but he doesn’t even seem to notice. He’s seeing things that aren’t there. It sounds like he’s having an asthma attack, he’s breathing so hard and wheezing so much. God, what if he stops breathing and passes out from his panic?

It takes several more minutes of you and Alfred both yanking on Bruce’s arm–because damn is he strong–before he’s finally, finally secured against the headboard. 

You immediately start taking off the armor on his arms as Alfred preps the IV. You sit on Bruce’s legs to stop his incessant kicking, murmuring soothing words to him the whole time. You and Alfred will both be covered in bruises tomorrow, but you don’t even notice any pain at the moment. 

Bruce freaks out when Alfred sticks the needle in his arm. He shouts wordlessly and thrashes so hard the bed moves away from the wall. You curse under your breath and get off of him. 

“Hold this arm as best you can,” Alfred says. 

“Who knew he could cause so much damage while handcuffed?” The joke comes out wobbly, though, your worry seeping through your words. Even leaning all of your body weight on Bruce, he still makes it nearly impossible for Alfred to get the IV in.

You both breathe a sigh of relief when it finally goes in. Alfred works quickly and efficiently, still the perfect picture of calm even though he must be freaking out as much as you are–if not more. 

After another minute, Bruce relaxes marginally. He stops trying to escape and settles back into the pillows, still awake and staring with wild eyes around the room. Every so often he jerks one of his restraints, as if testing them.

You blow out another breath. 

“I’m going to monitor his pulse and blood pressure,” Alfred says as he pulls the necessary things out of the giant medical bag. “We’ll have to keep an eye on him until the drug passes through his system.” 

You nod, staring down at Bruce, feeling utterly helpless. How are you supposed to fight someone’s own mind? There’s nothing you can do that isn’t being done already–and there’s still no guarantee Bruce will survive.

As quick as it comes, you shut the thought down. Bruce will make it through this, even if it kills you. 

You finish undoing his chest plates and set them to the side. You brush Bruce’s hair back from his face. 

“You’ll be okay,” you say solemnly. “You’re too stubborn to die, and Alfred and I are too stubborn to let you.” When you look up, Alfred is frowning at the blood pressure machine and the pulse oximeter on Bruce's finger. “What?” 

“Talk to him again,” is all he says. 

You raise an eyebrow but turn back to Bruce. “Who knew Alfred was so strong, huh?” you say, aiming for lightness, but the words seem to fall short. 

You reach out and smooth his wild, dark hair. 

Alfred’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “I think you calm him down, my dear.” 

It’s your turn to frown. “What do you mean?”

“Whenever you talk or touch him, his pulse drops a little and his breathing gets easier.” Alfred gives you a knowing look. 

Alfred’s the only one who knows about your crush on Bruce. He’s told you, repeatedly, to admit your feelings, but you’re too scared. Bruce is so far out of your league it’s laughable. Just because he trusts you enough with his secret doesn’t mean he feels the same way you do. Bruce has so few friends–his only two are, in fact, you and Alfred–that you know he opened up simply because he could. Bruce needed a friend, a confidant, a partner. You were able to give him that. That’s all. 

You stare at Alfred then, resigned, climb up over Bruce to sit by his head. 

“How about a scalp massage?” you ask Bruce. “Because apparently it makes you feel calmer.” 

Alfred chuckles. “His mother used to do that. Rub his head to get him to sleep or to get him to calm down when he was upset.” The older man softens as he stares down at Bruce. 

Something inside you melts. You reach a slightly trembling hand out and run it over Bruce’s head. You feel for a moment like you’re taking advantage of him. You never get to touch him like this, to simply watch him, and you relish it. 

“Here,” Alfred says, handing out a small package. “For the black around his eyes.” 

You take a wipe with your free hand and gently rub at the makeup on Bruce’s face. Both of his arms jerk against the restraints at that first touch. He starts panting hard again. 

“The blood–” he says with a pained moan. “The blood–” 

“There’s no blood, Bruce,” you say. Each touch is careful, gentle. “Everyone’s alright.” 

But he keeps yanking at the restraints. His wrists underneath his long sleeve shirt are turning redder and redder with each movement. 

“I couldn’t save them,” Bruce says around a small sob. He stares at you but you don’t think he actually can see you. “It’s my fault. I couldn’t save them.” 

“Save who?” you ask with one final swipe of the wipe over his eyes. 

“My parents. Alfred.” A tear slips over his cheek. “You.” 

“Alfred and I are alive, Bruce,” you say as you sit back on your heels on the bed. You carefully reach over and tug each of his sleeves over his wrist underneath the handcuffs. 

But Bruce doesn’t hear. “Stop!” he shouts at an unseen foe. “Don’t hurt them!” 

His sleeves have ridden up again, exposing his wrists to the handcuffs. You can see a small bit of blood on the wrist closest to you. 

Alfred hands out a bandage. “This should help.” 

You each bandage a wrist even as Bruce continues struggling. His pleas fade to pained noises that rip your heart out each time. 

“We should give him more of the sedative,” Alfred says. He rubs a hand over his face tiredly. “Where are the autopsy records? Maybe I can find out what this drug contains and see if there’s anything we can safely give him.” 

“They’re all at my workstation downstairs.” 

“I’ll be right back,” Alfred says. He hurries off, his limp even more pronounced now. 

Bruce continues straining against the handcuffs. His face is red with effort, his chest still heaving, the veins on his neck sticking out. He brings his knees up and leverages himself so his back smashes against the headboard. It creaks and groans. 

Whatever Alfred gave him must not have been enough. He’s just as frantic as he was before. Except now he’s trying to break his wrists and the headboard at the same time. 

“Stop that,” you say calmly even as your heart pounds. You wouldn’t put it past Bruce to snap the entire thing trying to get free. You run your fingers through his hair again. He immediately settles somewhat, his tugs on the handcuffs slightly easier. 

You decide to use both hands and give him the promised scalp massage. The longer your fingers work through the tangles, the more he seems to relax. You glance at the small device on his finger. His heart rate is still too high, but it lowers slightly at your prolonged touch. It’ll have to be good enough, you decide. Anything to keep his heart from giving out. 

When you look back up, Bruce is staring into your eyes. 

“I thought–I couldn’t be afraid anymore,” he says quietly. He seems more lucid now. Maybe the dose wasn’t that strong. You silently pray to all the gods and entities that might listen that it’ll be over soon. “But seeing you die–” His breath catches in his chest. “I couldn’t save you.” 

“I’m here,” you say. You wish you could take his fear and pain away, but there’s nothing else you can do. “I didn’t die.” 

Bruce makes a noise in his throat that you can’t comprehend. “It’s my–worst nightmare.” His eyes close. He grimaces. 

You keep trying to sooth him with your fingers in his hair. “You’re hallucinating, Bruce,” you say. “I don’t know if you’re able to tell what’s real right now, but all the bad things? Those are hallucinations.” 

“You’re real,” he murmurs softly. His body is a lot more relaxed. 

“Yes,” you say. “I’m here. I’m real.” 

Alfred bursts back into the room, laptop tucked under his arms. “I think we can give him more.” 

“Are you sure it’s safe?” 

“No, but if this doesn’t work…He’ll need an ambulance.” 

“He seems a lot calmer,” you say. Bruce’s eyes are still closed but he hums. “I don’t think the dose was very strong. He probably took the guy by surprise.” 

Alfred injects something into the IV, and Bruce’s body goes slack after a few moments. Alfred checks his pulse and blood pressure for several quiet moments, watching each of them improve slightly minute by minute. 

“That should do it,” Alfred says. He brushes a hand over his salt and pepper beard. “You can go on to bed, my dear.” 

“No, I’ll–I’ll stay, keep an eye on him. You go.” You expect him to argue, but Alfred nods and leaves you alone with Bruce. 

Now that things are calm, all of your fear and adrenaline start to fade. Bruce isn’t completely out of the woods yet, but he’ll make it. You think.

You think back to the surveillance video you saw. Dr. Crane was likely experimenting on the woman who died when Bruce showed up–and used whatever drug he had leftover on him. So it was likely it hadn’t been a full dose, especially with the way he seemed to calm down some. 

It was lucky. Extremely lucky. You think about the way the force of chance, of luck, has worked in your life so far, and can’t discount this instance either. 

When Bruce wakes up, you’ll give him all of the evidence he needs to get Dr. Crane arrested. You’d call Gordon now, but it’s so late it’s early. It can all wait until you know for sure Bruce is going to be alright. 

Exhausted, you lean back against the pillows next to Bruce. You glance around and can’t help but laugh at the situation. Here you are, in the place you most want to be–in Bruce’s bed–in the least romantic way possible. You don’t even have permission to be here. Bruce will probably ask you to leave once he’s in his right mind again. 

You turn your head to watch Bruce sleep, your own eyes heavy. You want to undo the handcuffs, but you’re afraid he’ll wake up in a panic again. Better to leave them on just in case. 

Without meaning to, your breathing syncs with his. You watch his chest rise and fall and try to let the motion comfort you. You glance at the little device on his finger again and feel even better when you see that his heart rate has calmed significantly. It’s still a bit high, but it isn’t in dangerous territory anymore. 

You always knew being Batman was dangerous. You’ve seen him come back injured a thousand times. A couple of times he was half-dead. But something about this was worse. Maybe because it isn’t an actual injury–it’s his own mind fighting him. His worst nightmares come to life. Bruce is the strongest person you know and seeing him brought low is like…a physical blow. It was terrifying. Bruce had always seemed so…untouchable. Like a man who was never afraid. 

His fear is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever witnessed. 

Your eyes slip closed as you watch him breathe. His bed is startlingly comfortable. You half-expected Bruce with his martyr complex to sleep on a brick. But this bed…this bed is definitely the kind of bed a billionaire would own.

You wake with a jolt sometime later. 

Bruce is watching you. His breath catches and he lets out a long sigh. He closes his eyes and seems to gather himself. 

When his eyes open again a second later, they’re wet. 

“I thought you were dead.” His voice is rougher and lower than usual, like he’s been screaming. The sound of it scrapes over your skin like sandpaper. 

“I’m not,” you say, still struggling to shake off the cobwebs of sleep. The room is dim. You were pretty sure the lamps had both been on but now only one is lit–and you have a blanket over you now too. Alfred must have come in at some point. 

“I know, but–” He takes another deep breath. The handcuffs rattle as he shifts. “For a moment, I didn’t know if it was real.” 

“What did you see?” you ask slowly. You see the handcuff key sitting on the nightstand closest to you and grab it. 

Bruce shies away from you. “Don’t unlock me yet. I don’t–I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Bruce,” you say. You soften towards him. He’s scared again, but it’s different. You don’t know if it’s a leftover effect of the drug or if it's his propensity for self-flagellation, but he’s afraid of hurting you. “You won’t hurt me. You didn’t even hurt me when you were drugged. You protected me. Granted, it was from nothing, but…” You flash him a smile. He doesn’t return it. “Have you been awake long?” 

He ignores the joke and the question, eyes staring into the middle distance. “I saw…every variation possible of the people I love dying,” he finally says as you unlock the wrist closest to you. He groans quietly as he stretches the arm out. He must be in a lot of pain from having his arms lifted for so long, but he says nothing. “I saw myself killing you. Or I saw someone else hurting you because of me, to get to me. You kept getting hurt and I was always too late to stop it.” He’s breathing hard again. 

You can feel his breath on your face as you lean over him to unlock the other handcuff. 

He catches your wrist and keeps you close, staring up at you. His lashes are long and dark, his blue eyes bright as stars. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away, even in his disheveled state. You still aren’t used to the sight of him. 

“Y/n, do you hear what I’m saying?” he says, voice almost anguished. 

And your brain finally catches up. 

I saw…every variation possible of the people I love dying. I saw myself killing you. Or someone else hurting you because of me, to get to me. 

You suddenly can’t breathe. People I love. 

“Bruce–” All the other words get caught behind his name. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and yet again you aren’t sure what he’s sorry for. “But seeing all of that–I couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to you without knowing…all of it. The way I feel about you. How badly I–” He shakes his head and presses his lips together. 

You want to pinch yourself. You’re still asleep, right? There’s no way in any universe that Bruce Wayne feels for you like you do for him. 

But he’s including you in the list of people he loves.

You’ve been silent for too long, still hovering over Bruce. His eyes shift away, a wall coming down behind them as he shuts himself off. 

“I just…wanted you to know. That’s all. I won’t mention it again.” There’s a slight pink tint to his cheeks. “It’s okay if you don’t…feel that way about me.” 

“Bruce,” you say again, softer this time. You sit back a little. “I–I’m sorry.” He deflates a little, rubbing one wrist absently. He still isn’t looking at you. “I’m not really good with words, but I want you to know I feel the same way about you.” His gaze snaps to yours. You can feel heat creeping up your neck to settle in your cheeks. “I was so scared last night. I thought–all the other victims we knew about had died and–I couldn’t handle it if you died, too. You are…so important to me.” Your voice catches slightly. 

He reaches for you, calloused hands soft as the touch of a butterfly wing against your cheek. 

“Please tell me this isn’t the drug,” he says after a long moment. 

You grin. “It isn’t. It makes you scared, remember? Are you scared now?” 

He smiles back. The sight of it steals your breath. “I’m terrified.” But his smile only grows wider.

You lean down, very slightly, going slowly so he has time to change his mind. Because it still doesn’t feel real, doesn’t feel possible.

But Bruce stretches his neck up and closes the gap between you. His lips brush yours and you feel a relief so complete you want to melt into the bed. His other hand comes up to join the first and he cradles your face like you’re something valuable, something breakable, something to be cherished. 

As his lips move against yours, your entire body seems to say, Ah, I’ve been waiting for this. 

His mouth parts slightly, an invitation that you quickly take. His hands are still careful against your face, but one of yours fists around his shirt. 

When you pull away, you smile at each other. 

“As much as I want to stay here like this,” you murmur with another kiss pressed quickly to his mouth, “I think we should get Gordon to arrest Dr. Crane as soon as possible.” 

Bruce sighs but nods. “You’re right.” 

“I usually am.” 

He laughs. “And maybe after that’s done with…we can talk more.” 

You can’t help but kiss him again. “Of course. We can talk and kiss.” 

Needless to say, it takes a long time for you and Bruce to get up to contact Gordon. 

[actuallysaiyan]

I Wanna Be Adored(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS!! PROCEED WITH CAUTION, a fix-it fic, mentions of major character death, fluff, angst, mentions of violence/dark themes, lots of sadness, happy ending, flashback scenes are in italics, canon divergent/AU word count: 1.8k pairings: Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader a/n: I haven't watched the newest episode of JJK, but I remember the feeling I had when I read that chapter in the manga. Here's for all the ones who hate the canon story in the manga!

The night felt colder than it should have. He knows he shouldn’t have ever let you go off on your own, but everything was just absolute chaos that night. He remembers being with Megumi and Ino and then trying to make a point of getting back to you. Kento wasn’t going to let this night end in disaster when it came to you. You were his shining light, his reason to live. If he’s got to maim or kill to get back to you, he will. He absolutely would do anything to make sure no harm came to you.

The problem was how good of a sorcerer you are. Not that he didn’t believe you couldn’t take care of yourself, but he knows you enjoy throwing yourself into battle so much. He’s seen you with that same smirk Gojo usually sports. The two of you aren’t too far off in terms of personality. The same things that irk him about Gojo, they are so endearing in you. You shine so beautifully. You show him things he’s so long forgotten.

That’s why it was so important to him to find you. Despite the chaos and the destruction, Nanami was going to find you and hold you close. He’d fully confess his feelings to you, though you were already sure you knew he wanted to settle down with you and start a family. But Namami wasn’t going to let this chance pass him by. He curses himself for being so silly for waiting so long to finally spill the beans to you. Still, he knows you won’t judge him.

An uncontrollable rage filled Kento as he found the body of Ijichi lying on the ground. Though he initially believes the man to be dead, Kento is relieved to know that he’s going to be able to help him. The sudden realization of just how intense all of this is hits Kento and he’s suddenly so scared to find you in such a way. He’s scared that you might have gotten a little too cocky with everything and that you jumped head first in a battle that might have been too much for you.

After finding Nobara and Nitta, Kento vows that the next thing he’s going to do is to find you. He won’t do anything stupid or rash. Even after wasting Shigemo, Kento knows he needs to find you. His heart races with every step he takes. His anger is almost overtaking him as he begins to imagine the worst of the worst.

If he found your body on the ground, broken and bruised and bleeding, he’s so sure he’d lose his mind. You are utterly the only thing that matters in his entire life. He needs you more than you’ll ever know. You really mean that much to him, Before you, Kento was a shell of a man. You brought light into his heart and it has never gone out.

Things become even more dire as he meets up with Maki and Naobito Zenin. Not being able to find you makes Kento more nervous. The curses that come next seem to be relentless and he finds himself in the middle of a serious attack. The pain is incredible, but the pain of not being able to see you before he loses his life is even worse. Kento knows this is more than likely the end for himself.

Meanwhile, you’re out of your mind trying to find your lover. You knew you shouldn’t have run off either, but the call of a good fight to protect the people you love is what fueled you to keep going. You were going to fight until your last breath if that’s what it took to protect everyone and keep the world safe. Even after finding out that Satoru was sealed, you still took it upon yourself to take the lead in many of these fights.

You tend to the wounded when you can, but you still can’t stop thinking about Kento. You worry dearly for the love of your life. You look for him everywhere you can, but you’re always stopped by something or someone else. When you aren’t actively defeating curses, you’re on the move to the next battle. And when you’re not battling or moving to another part of the area, you’re helping the wounded or you’re caring for those who are about to perish.

Your heart clenches when you begin to imagine the worst. You think about finding your lover on the ground, broken and cracked like he’s nothing. Discarded pile of flesh and bones for you to discover in horror. It terrifies you to think that you may never get to kiss him again. You may never get to hold him. Never get to see that gorgeous smile of his again. It’s killing you inside to be apart from Kento. He’s always been your rock, your knight in shining armor. Everything about him is perfect in your eyes.

You hold out hope that you’ll be reunited with your lover soon. You’ll do anything to make sure you see him again. This night will be a very old memory one day, one you two will think was crazy and you’ll reminisce about how much you’ve gone through this night.

After the fight with Dagon, Kento wonders truly if this is the end of the road for him. He thinks of your beautiful face, that shining smile. It’s enough to keep him going, but he’s more than ready to let this all end. He knows you’ll be distraught, but you’re strong enough to get through it all without him. It’ll take some time, but you’ll fight through the pain of losing him. With a good support team and some therapy, Kento knows that you’ll make it through this. Once he emerges from the domain, he’s met with the evil curse Jogo. The pain is searing through his body as he is almost completely incinerated. He lays on the ground, writhing in pain. Even if he lives through this, you probably won’t even be able to look at him the same way. Not with his damaged eye and his scars. You’ll probably want to leave him and live a much better life than to have to take care of such a scarred man.

The later it gets, the more terrified you get. You know that you’re probably going to lose the love of your life in this battle. He won’t be returning to you. You’ll find him just as you pictured before, lying in a heap of his own blood and bones. The lifeless body of your lover will be the thing that renders you completely insane. How will you even live on without him? You try to remain calm, but you’re so damn scared. You’re fucking losing it.

You set off on your own, in search of the man who has shown you just how beautiful life is. You go looking for him, knowing this might be your last hope. Maybe you’re both strong enough to get through this. Your eyes are scanning your surroundings as you call out his name. Your heart is wrenching in your chest as you begin to find yourself losing hope. You’re about to turn around and search elsewhere when you spot him. You gasp in shock as you see him.

That voice…

It belongs to the curse Mahito. You shudder as you watch him taunt your lover. You feel like you’re running too slow to reach Kento. You shout his name, and Mahito mocks you as well. He’s yelling Kento’s name in the same desperate tone you are, angering your lover even more. Kento turns to look at you and you get to see just how badly he was hurt. You feel your heart breaking. Your beautiful lover has been so disfigured and all you want to do is reach him and hold him close. Before you can even do anything, you watch in horror as Mahito gleefully sets his sights on your lover.

“Nanamin?” Yuji’s gentle voice can be heard, and Kento turns towards his student. There’s a small smile on his face.

“You’ve got it from here,” Kento tells Yuji, then he turns to you and smiles brightly.

A loud scream escapes you as you watch your lover be killed right in front of you. You collapse on your knees as Yuji becomes enraged. The last thing Kento remembers is the sound of your voice…

“Daddy?” a soft voice is heard from the doorway. Kento opens his good eye, peeking over at the blonde little girl standing there.

Kento stretches lightly, then he sits up on the bed. He’s pretty sure he was dreaming of that dreadful night again. Kento is still not sure how he managed to escape that last attack from Mahito, but he is very glad he did. Kento smiles as he sees his daughter pitter-pattering her way into the room.

“Were you sleepin’, daddy?” she asks as she hops onto the bed. Even though his wounds have healed over the years, she is still very careful not to hurt him on his sensitive side.

“Yeah, I guess I was.” Kento says with a chuckle, pulling his little girl closer to him. She nuzzles her face into his chest, sighing happily as she gets a whiff of her father’s comforting scent. These days, he smells like old books and cozy blankets.

There’s a knock on the bedroom door and Kento’s heart swells with affection when he sees you with a tray of food. You’ve got that same playful smirk spread on your face like you always did, but motherhood has tamed you a little. You set the tray down on the bedside table and you join your two loved ones on the bed.

“Were you having that dream again?” You ask Kento, seeing the dazed look in his good eye. He keeps the other one covered with an eyepatch most times.

Kento sighs and he nods, “Yeah…that was some night, huh?”

Your daughter presses a soft kiss on her father’s cheek, clinging to him by wrapping her arms around his neck. He kisses the top of her head, then he ruffles her blonde curls. He can’t believe just how fortunate he is to have both of you. After that dreadful night, Kento retired and you two moved somewhere calm and relaxing. He got the chance to read all those books he thought he’d never get the chance. And of course, he started a family with you quite quickly.

“I’m so glad I didn’t lose you that night,” you murmur as you lean against him.

Kento laughs, “Me too, sweetheart.”

And for a moment, the three of you cuddle on the bed, enjoying the sensations of being so close to one another. Nothing will ever tear your little family apart…

[grippingbeskar]

bad shoulder

frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: adult content minors dni! (mxf, f receiving, nothing crazy) swearing, mentions of canon typical violence

a/n: this is dedicated to and requested by @lemon-world1​ who’s birthday it was a few days ago IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE but it is here! i hope you had an amazing day, and i really hope this is what you wanted!!!! sending so much love to you. its been a while since i just wrote a lil frank thing and damn i missed it okay bye.

     ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You got a second?” Frank Castle’s familiar head pokes around the corner of your tent, traces of dried blood still caked in his short hair.

“Always for you.” You sing out, and he smiles, the sight sending warmth all the way through you. You turn to face him, and he isn’t shy about the way he looks you up and down, brown eyes trailing down your body before he remembers himself and focuses elsewhere. You always manage to get at least a little flustered when he comes in— especially when he’s all happy and smiling. He’s impossible not to want, and living on a base in the middle of a battlefield, there’s not a whole lot to do around here but sit and wait for him to show up.

It had been a long day, like it always was. You hadn’t even seen the sun rise before you were called in, soldiers that were never fully recovered still nursing old, aggravated injuries from whatever they’d been doing for the past 12 hours. From bad knees to wasted tendons and shattered bones, sometimes there wasn’t a lot you could do but make them as comfortable as possible and take away some of the pain, even if it was temporary.

Frank could come in and stand in the corner without saying a word and it’d make your day. It was stupid, but it was the truth. He just had that effect on you. It didn’t matter what time of the day it was, he just managed to surge adrenaline through you at the sight of him— you’d nearly forgotten your work the second he stepped in.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ve got a few things to finish up and then I can help you out.” He nods and thanks you again, and you busy yourself with papers you don’t remember pulling out, trying your hardest to slow your racing heart down to an acceptable rate.

When you turn back to him, he’s already taken his shirt off, sitting with his legs over the side of the table. He’s so tall his boots still plant firmly on the ground, and you know it’s ridiculous— you know, but there’s something about the way he’s just so big—

“Your shoulder still bothering you?” Your brain manages to form words that make sense, while your heart rate is still flying uncomfortably close to a heart attack as he shrugs his shoulders. He rolls them out, each muscle defined and contracting with the movement, and your hands clench at your sides.

“Yeah. Gotta carry some of the packs for the medic on our squad, but it’s fucking killing me.” He rolls his neck next, but with the movement he winces. His eyes squeeze shut and his whole body shudders— the sight switching you from a fumbling mess to a professional in an instance. You know Frank— if he’s coming to you for help, he must be in some serious pain.

“Can’t someone else take the weight? I could write a report, let the sargent know?” You move behind him, the definition of each muscle practically shimmering under the full light of your tent. You peek over his shoulder, and he angles his head just so you can see the genuine surprise in his face.

“You can do that?”

“I’m not just here to hang out with you, you know. I do have a job here.” You laugh, and you can see his body slump a little as he joins you.

“I didn’t mean it like that— but nah. It’s okay. Coopers still got that bug leg, so I just gotta get this fixed.” Typical of Frank, but you’d probably write the report up anyways. It wouldn’t hurt, and Frank would never admit to anyone but you that the pain was genuinely bothering him.

You were the only person he seemed to let himself be vulnerable with, show any kind of weakness with. You’d seen him around base, and knowing what a pissing contest it is out there, it didn’t surprise you that when he found a moment of peace, it didn’t take a a lot for him to open up. You try to tell yourself it’s because he doesn’t have to worry about showing you up like he does everyone else around here, but you can’t help the part of your mind that wanders to the possibility that he might just like your company. Finds it easy to trust you and let his guard down.

“I’m gonna touch you now, okay? Work the same place as last time?” Once you get confirmation, your hands drift over the familiar position, but as soon as you apply pressure he sucks in a sharp breath. “That hurts?”

“It’s fine.” He says through his teeth.

“You have to tell me if it hurts, Castle. Job, remember?” He laughs again, but you can tell he’s still pulling away from you. “It’s okay. We can work up to that. Tell me what happened today.”

“Same old. You know how it— oh, fuck.” He grunts when you dig your fingertips into a spot that you know is connected to his old injury. “How it is.”

“Lay down.” He moves slowly— too slow to be in any kind of working order. You try to take the pressure off his shoulder as he turns to lay face down, but he’s still holding himself up and favouring one side. When he’s finally flat, you start softly, kneading your hands in slow circles around the connecting muscles. You listen to the sounds he makes— low grunts of either pain or pleasure, but both of them send butterflies fluttering in your stomach like no one else.

You start to span your hands down his back, letting the palm of your hand apply more pressure the further away from his shoulder you get. He sighs deeply, and after a few minutes he’s gone pliant under your touch. His head rolls to one side when you drift your hands up to his neck, another low groan escaping from somewhere in his chest.

When he’s finally relaxed, you press further. You check in as your hands slide along the base of his shoulder blade, and you’re only met with a gruff keep goin’ before you return to your original spot. He sighs, shifting closer to your side of the table, and the warmth of his skin touching you in all kinds of places has you blinking rapidly, your vision starting to go fuzzy.

Keeping your mind on the task at hand, you manage to kill a few more minutes like this; gentle circles and soft touches before you decide he’s ready to move.

“You still with me?” You break the silence, and he just huffs like you’ve woken him up. He still moves slowly when he gets up, but there’s no pain there. No— he was just relaxed. Tired, probably, but relaxed. “It’s feeling better than last time. You’ve been doing those stretches I told you about?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Your hands return to his shoulder and apply more pressure. He leans into the touch, head falling forward and sighing again. You ignore how much the response made your head swim.

“Everyday?”

“Yes, ma’am.” God— he was gonna kill you.

“And no more of those sandbag throws, yeah? Or those weighted pull ups?” When you don’t get an answer, you shake him with your hands. “Hey. Don’t fall asleep.”

“M’not. I’m ignoring the question.” You laugh, your hands stilling on his shoulder as you feel the muscle movement ease entirely. “I gotta keep my reputation up, or the new guys get cocky.”

“God forbid— because you are the picture of humble.”

“Damn right.” He leans back slightly, his back brushing against your chest. He doesn’t move when he feels how close you are, and though your hands aren’t on him anymore and the session is clearly over, you don’t move either. “Missed seein’ you.”

“You don’t have to rip your shoulder out of its socket to come see me, you know.” He’s facing straight forward, but every word you say has him shuffling further and further back into you.

“You sayin’ you wanna see me outside here?” He says softly, his head turning ever so slightly towards your own.

“Maybe.” You want to take the words back as soon as you’ve said then, but then he surprises you by turning suddenly, looking you right in the eye.

Your heart stops. Time stops, practically. You know you shouldn’t do this. You need to draw a line in the sand, tell him to move back. To look forward. To leave, even. You were at work, and he was just a… well. He wasn’t just another client— and that was the fucking problem.

He was so close to you, every short breath he took was loud in your ear. You didn’t have to bend to be face to face with him, not with how straight he’s sitting and how fucking close he is. You were at the perfect height to indulge all those fantasies you shouldn’t have, should never act on but God did you want to.

He turns even more, rotating so his chest facing you and his nose brushes against your own. You can’t help the way your eyes flutter closed in anticipation— it was too late to pull away. He was too tempting and he was right there. So close to you, no longer at arms length, and so when he brings one gentle hand to the side of your face, you don’t even think about pulling away.

Your heartbeat was in your ears, sounds of the outside floating away until all you could hear was the pounding of your anxious heart and Franks low, shuddering inhale. Your eyes dare to flutter open for just half a second, and you can see his own flitting over your face— searching for something. Rejection, anticipation, something that he was looking for, but he either finds it or he doesn’t, because whatever it was is enough to have him leaning just a slight inch forward and pressing his mouth to yours.

It’s so slow you nearly faint. Adrenaline is coursing through your veins, and his other hand comes to your hip, drawing you in to press against his warm skin. His tongue glides along your bottom lip, and your mouth opens, wanting to drink him and this moment in as much as possible.

He tastes like dirt and blood, and it’s so fucking addicting that your tongue tangles with his for another taste. He kisses you softer than you imagined, like he’s waiting for you to pull away. You try to bend closer, your hands sliding up into his cropped hair and sealing his mouth to yours. The groan of approval you get is enough for him to lose a little bit of that control. He groans your name into your mouth, and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter. When he groans again your feet leave the ground, Frank hauling you up onto the small table in one swift movement, putting you on your knees next to him.

His mouth never leaves yours in the shuffle, hand tangled in your hair as he gets a little rougher— hungrier for a deeper kiss. The need makes your head spin, and his free hand hooks under your legs to pull you across him, your legs naturally falling to either side of his muscles thighs.

You moan instantly at the feeling, Frank pushing your hips down to connect with his own. Your arms hook lazily around his neck, his own roaming from your hips up and down your sides. He’s languid with the movements, content to take his time to feel your body, fingers slipping under your shirt where goosebumps follow in his wake wherever he touches you.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans into you, and you shudder when his hips buck upwards. It’s almost like he’s encouraging it, wanting you to use him like this, hearing the way your breathless moans get higher and higher every-time he does it. “You like that?”

You can’t form a reply, just nodding as your head rolls to the side. His lips drop down, scorching heat under your jaw and down your neck. You can feel the cool kiss of his teeth as they drag lightly against your pulse point, and at the same time Frank grinds his hips up again. The sensation hits you like a truck, and you’re sighing out his name like a song in the next second.

“Oh, Frank.” You bury your head in the crook of his neck, and he hums in response and repeats the movement. He knows just where to roll your hips, the rough fabric of his pants creating the perfect friction, and a few more minutes like this and you’d be cu—

Three loud knocks on the door nearly make you scream in surprise and frustration.

“Hey, you in there? Any chance you got a couple minutes before rollcall? Need you to work your magic on this knee.” Fucking hell. You knew that voice, and it wasn’t one you could dismiss.

You were panting so hard you couldn’t reply right away, and Frank was just staring at you. His eyes were blown wide— not even blinking as he gripped the side of the table, knuckles white with restraint.

“Y-yep! Just a sec!” You scramble, trying to put yourself back together while Frank sits there, unmoving. You manage to get behind him, throwing Franks shirt at him just before the officer walks in and gets an eyeful of Franks painfully obvious boner. “Colonel Fields! I’m just finishing up with Castle, then I can help you out.”

“Sounds good.” The older man walks into the room, taking a seat in your office chair and nodding at Frank. “Lieutenant.”

You seem to have found your footing a little quicker than Frank, jabbing him in the back to prompt a fucking reply.

“C-Colonel. Ow.” He sucks in a breath as you dig your hands into his lower back pretending to do something productive, but then he sighs and drops his head when you ease up.

He’s as taut as ever, but you go easy on him considering what just happened. What… what did just happen? One second you were joking with him, laughing like friends, and the next you were kissing him. More than that— fuck, you probably would have let him have you right here on the table if he had kept going.

There’s another low, drawn out groan from Frank, and the sound has you pressing your thighs together. It’s the same one he breathed through your kiss when you were on top of him— and from the pained grunt that follows it, he’s remembering it too.

“You alright there, Lieutenant?” Colonel Fields calls to Frank, and you don’t know what his face looks like right now, but clearly it’s not hiding anything very well.

“Fine. Good. I’m gonna— I think I’m good.” He’s off the table in a second, slipping out from your practically outstretched arms.

“I’ll only be a second, if you need to—“ He was already shaking his head before you finished your sentence. Did he not want… Jesus, did he not want to finish what you started as badly as you do? He was walking straight for the door.

“All good. Thanks. I’m— good. I’m good.” He says, not looking you in the eye, and then he’s gone, leaving both you and Colonel Fields confused, and you a little cold.

     ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you finally drag your body to your room, you feel like you’ve been hit by a freight train. You’ve had long days before, but this one is so much more draining. It’s like your heart has been wrung out and shoved back into your chest, and now you just have to walk around with this squished thing in your body that refuses to work properly.

Yes, you were dramatic. But you had a right to be! Frank had— well, he’d done all that, only to run out of the tent and disappear for the entire day. It’s not like you expected flowers and a proposal, but he was outright ignoring you.

Not so much as a text— no looks in the hallway, nothing. Even when he’d usually catch you for lunch, something that would have been ordinary and in his schedule, he wasn’t there. He could just be caught up with something, but your mind couldn’t help but wander to the possibility that you’d jumped the gun or read the room wrong.

You fell backwards onto your bed, the air rushing out of your lungs in a giant whoosh. You’d been harbouring feelings for Frank for so long, and you’d done so well at keeping them in check and at bay, no matter how many flirty smiles and sweet comments he made. But one moment of weakness— one look too long and too close was all it took for you to crack and have your entire heart and career shatter in one go.

Then you hear it— three soft but sure knocks on your door. When you swing it open, you don’t know if your surprised or expectant.

“Frank?”

“Hey, sweetheart. You gonna let me in?” You hesitate for just a moment, worried what he’s going to say. “I’m freezing my ass off out here. Please.”

You watch him shiver in front of you, and it’s only then you look down and see he’s just wearing boxers and the same shirt from this morning, as well as his combat boots, untied with no socks. You just step out of his way and hurry him inside, noting the snow piled up at your door and how late it must be considering the sun had long disappeared.

“Fucking hell. Its fuckin’ cold.” He says through gritted teeth, and you still haven’t said a word, but hand him a towel so he can dry off the fallen snow resting in his short hair. “Thanks.”

“Why aren’t you wearing more clothes?” The question slips out. Not that you were…complaining. But it was snowing outside.

“Yeah… kinda got caught in the barracks. Didn’t wanna waste time and walk all the way… are you alright?”

“You’re freezing— here.” You hand him one of his old jackets he’d given you months ago, and he takes it quickly, shrugging it over his shoulders. “You dissipated kind of fast. I just… sorry. This is weird. I don’t know what to say?”

“You don’t wanna talk, we don’t have to. I’ll…” He steps forward, a hand hooking under your chin to force your eyes up to him, “I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“Wanted you to talk to me today.” You mumble and he grunts, shaking his head. “You were avoiding me. I thought you—“

“No, baby. No. Fuckin’ Fields has been on me since I deployed. He’d take any chance to send me home, and anyone I gave a shit about, too.” His hand hasn’t left you, though the other one stays pinned to his side.

“Oh. You— no, that makes total sense. You should definitely of— Of course! Yeah.” You make a complete dick of yourself trying to find a sentence that doesn’t make you sound insecure, and he steps into you, his body like a warm blanket.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinkin’ about you all damn day.” His breath his hot against your skin, and he presses a kiss under your ear before he continues. “Were you thinkin’ about me?”

“Mhmm.” Your eyes are closed, but you can feel him. Feel his proximity— how his other hand leaves his side and rests on your hip, tugging you into him. There isn’t an inch of him you can’t feel, and the hard lines of his toned stomach tighten as he bends down further.

“You wanna pick up where we left off, sweetheart? Let me show you what I been meaning to do to you since I fuckin’ met you?” Your jaw falls open and you nod again. He takes his chance, groaning your name once more before devouring you into a searing kiss.

He’s unbelievably big, dwarfing your size under neath him as he moves his hands lower and starts to tug at your sweatpants. You shuffle as best you can to help him, but you’re too occupied with the way he’s kissing you to do anything but squirm against him. He’s kissing you like he’s hungry for it, like there’s something desperate and sweet inside of you he’s never had before. It makes your head spin to think he might want this just as bad as you do.

He walks backwards, falling with a grunt onto your bed, tugging you on top of him. It’s the same as this morning, expect now there’s even less between you. Just the thin fabric of your underwear and his boxers seperate you from each other, but he’s no less intense with the way he moves you in slow circles while he licks into your mouth.

“Fuck.” He mutters and pulls himself away, mumbling as he rips your shirt over your head. He kisses you everywhere he can reach— craning his head to press his mouth to your collarbones, down your chest, feeling his hands run up to touch you where his mouth can’t.

He flips you over, your back hitting the soft covers of your bed and crawls over you. His arms cage you in, mouth repeating the motions and tasting your skin further down. He’s so slow about it— hardly even doing this for you. His mouth is as warm as his skin, trailing his way down until his short hair tickles the skin of your inner thighs. You can’t take your eyes off him, how easy he fits himself between your legs, shoulders spreading you open.

He breathes out, setting himself down between your legs, toying with the soft fabric of your underwear. His fingertips are rough, but his touch gentle, tracing the lines of your hips and sending zaps of pleasure up your body.

“So pretty, baby.” The words hit your skin, and you squirm under his hands when they hook under your underwear. He drags them down quickly, your hands toying with the short strands of his hair. Franks eyes meet yours, and you swear he gives you a cocky little smile before he sinks lower and your eyes squeeze shut.

His mouth is on you in the next second, burying himself between you. You feel the warm touch of his mouth swirl around you, arms hooking around your lower half and holding you down. You don’t want to move, don’t want to interrupt the intensity of his touch but you can’t help it— it’s all too much and you want to dive into it. Everything hot and sparkling sizzles up your spine, and you arch off the bed in such surprise when you feel his mouth seal over your clit.

You squeeze your eyes shut harder, a near painful grip on his hair yanking him both into you and away. He’s too strong, too overpowering to even notice your efforts, and you thank God he doesn’t fucking stop. You were whining pathetically now— his name echoing in high pitched in the small room. You feel him smile, your jaw going slack just thinking about what he looks like.

“Keep sayin’ my name— fuckin’ sounds good when you say it.” He leans back only slightly, and you gasp when you feel him lean his head against your thigh. The feeling of him— his mouth fucking wet with the taste of you, feeling the soft puff of his breath against your skin as he catches himself. Then he wraps his arms around your thighs and tugs you down the bed. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Keep going, fuck—“ You whimper, trying to smooth your hands through his hair in an attempt to be nicer. He grins lazily, and then stares right into your eyes as he spits into your pussy and buried his face into you again.

Everything burns red hot, and your legs clamp around his head as he speeds up. One arm is enough to hold you down, the other snaking up our side and interlocking with your hand. You can’t keep your eyes open— everything going blurry as your eyes roll back and you feel yourself spinning in all directions.

You must say something— his name, maybe, because he groans and flattens his tongue, letting you grind your hips up and into him. If you could manage to open your eyes you’d stare back at him— let him watch as you fall apart in a way only he can break you.

Frank keeps a pace— fucking you with his tongue and swirling around the bud of nerves in such a messy but fiery way that you can’t hold it. Everything gets white hot and your back arches again, fingertips digging into his scalp and hand, and you know it’s cliche but you swear you can see stars.

Frank doesn’t stop, just slows down and works you through the shocks of pleasure that jolt up your core, feeling the way you shudder as you cum in his mouth. When your squirming too much for him to hold you still, he drags his mouth up your body. Again, he kisses his way up, but this time it’s messy. He’s not just kissing— he drags teeth and tongue along your hip bones, marking his way up to your chest and neck. You’ll be covered in the evidence, and you only lean closer, wanting more.

“Fucking hell, Frank.” His hands slide up your sides while yours palm him through his boxers, and he shudders your name. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”

“Do you, pretty girl?” He groans in your ear, and your stomach flips at the name. You bite your lip and nod, staring up at him and he grins. “You liked that, huh?”

“I know something I’d like more.” Blinking innocently, you slip your hand under his boxers and wrap your hand around his hard length. He cuts himself off with a choked gasp, leaning back down and kissing you messily.

You let him take what he wants, pressing his hips into the slow, teasing movement of your hand as you slowly slide his boxers off. The feeling of his skin on yours lights something on fire inside you, and while he’s nearly drunk on the taste of your mouth, you shove him easily onto his back. You’re quick about it, not giving him a second to breathe when you’re sinking down on his cock, earning another long, low groan.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” He gasps out, hands gripping your hips tightly. You roll forward slightly, feeling him hit something that makes you shiver, and he helps you chase the feeling. He moves you with no effort, bucking his hips and grinding you in out of rhythm thrusts, his eyes screwed tightly shut like he was in pain. “Oh god, baby don’t stop.”

“Feels good, Frankie.” His jaw goes slack with another stuttered moan of your name, while his hands touch you wherever they can reach. He glides up your stomach, over your ribs, your breasts, until he reaches your face where he hauls you downwards into another bruising kiss.

“Fucking… so perfect. Thought about this… fuck, that’s it. God that’s fuckin’ it.” He slurs between kisses, and he moves faster, rougher as he fucks you dizzy. It’s numbing and electrifying all at once, the grip of his hands on your face forcing you to stare into his half lidded eyes. “Such a pretty girl. Just keep lookin’ at me. Just like that.”

His free hand wraps around your lower back, his name coming out high pitched and drawn out as you call it over and over again. He kisses you, words mumbled into your mouth but the pleasure is too overwhelming— you couldn’t hear anything but the snap of his hips against yours and both of you chasing your high.

He bites your lower lip, drawing you back to him when he feels you tighten around him. He knows you well— he’d know you’re close, and his eyes burn so brightly in front of you that even though he’s got that cocky smirk on his face you still want to tell him how fucking good he is at this. He presses his forehead to yours, holding you against him as he brings you to the edge with a few more strewing, devastating thrusts and you’re gone— screaming his name so loud you know your neighbours will hear.

“Fr-Frank!” Your body shakes as pleasure overwhelms you, and he watches every fucking second of it. He’s right there with you, the look on your face when you cum for him sending him toppling over with you. He’s so warm and he’s everywhere— arms wrapping around you, mouth sealed to yours swallowing every little whimper and moan, cock buried so deep inside you, you know you’re gonna feel him for days.

The room is suddenly quiet, except for yours and Franks in sync breathing. You tuck your face into his neck and he buries you there, strong arms wrapping around your torso and keeping you as close as possible. When you feel his heart beat start to slow, you look up at him to find he’s already staring at you.

“You got no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.” He confesses, kissing you again. It’s lazy, indulgent and somehow he still tastes so good. It’s addicting, and you find yourself chasing his mouth until you’re breathless again. When he pulls away, he’s panting, shaking his head. “You keep kissing me like that and you’re in for a long fucking night.”

“Just one night?” You want to look away in case it’s not the answer you want, but he laughs, moving you to the side and tucking you to his chest.

“Fuck no.” He groans as he finally slips out of you. You sigh, content for now, and wriggle back towards him, pressing your ass against his hips. He freezes and his breathing changes, sounding very, very controlled. “Baby. Please don’t mess with me right now.”

“Oh, poor Frank. Stuck in bed with a girl. A naked girl. How’s he gonna make it?” Before you can be proud of yourself for the short silence you are awarded, he’s flipping you over and kissing his way down your chest and stomach. When he disappears between your thighs, you cry out his name, and fuck— you don’t think you’d ever get enough of this.

[lorre-verie]

babes i have a request

so im in the mood for angst...bc why not

so like can i request like an aonung x sully!reader set in the way of water timeline but like instead of neteyam dying it's reader who dies

does this make sense😭😭

CLEARLY u LOVE the idea of people dying because ??? WHY would u do this But ok Ye ask and ye shall receive

“I promised.”

word count: 2.3k

pairings: ao’nung x f! sully! reader (angst)

notes: - reader is the sibling in between Neteyam and Kiri in terms of age - ao’nung and reader already have an established relationship prior to the events of this story - i am NOT giving reader a name, i also dont think there are any mentions like y/n or [name] or anything like that

warnings: descriptions of war, death, blood, idk more death, sadness, its sad 4 sure but idk if its tear-worthy?

masterlist

“C’mon! We have to go get Spider!” Lo’ak nodded his head towards the inside of the ship as you cut him free from his restraints. 

“What?” you responded, unable to process what he’d just said.

Your older brother behind you, Neteyam, cut off the tie bounding Tuk’s hands with a dagger, and another quick snap further behind told you Ao’nung had just cut off Tsireya’s.

You and your siblings were in the middle of a full blown war.

Besides almost getting crushed by Payakan, getting taken hostage, killing about 5 people trying to save your siblings, and witnessing the deaths of many of your own people, things in your opinion were going great so far. 

“C’mon sis, we can’t leave without him!” Lo’ak crouched down, picking up a gun from one of the fallen na’vi soldiers slouched against the railings, blood seeping down their skull. 

Your gaze was fixed on the grip of the gun that was firmly clasped in his fingers, stained with red at the bottom. The blood trickled down silently, creating a small pool on the already drenched floor, yet it seemed inconsequential amidst the chaos.

In that brief moment of dread, a warm hand fell on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. 

Something similar to fear took over your body, causing you to be unable to take your eyes off your younger brother who looked at you hopefully, while you stood there like a deer caught in headlights.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to save him. The images of blood spraying all over replayed in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything else.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” a comforting voice drifted through the air, pulling you back into reality. 

The foreign accent had a calming effect on your senses, a zap of electricity running down your queue.

Whipping your head, you met the eyes of the person who had spoken, the comforting shade of aquamarine looking back at you with such emotion.

Lo’ak rolled his eyes at the sight, a low growl forming in his throat. He never approved of your relationship with the boy, but what could he do about it? He was in love with the man’s sister!

Neteyam sauntered towards your brother, braids waving wildly in the air as they always did. 

“I’ll go with you,” he nodded at Lo’ak, ignoring Ao’nung completely as he looked at you, seeking any form of approval.

Your brows knitted together, and you shook your head. 

“It’s fine. I’ll go. We all know I’m a better warrior than Neteyam anyways.” you joked, attempting to lift the mood. 

“Are you sure?” Neteyam said softly.

“Positive. You should go and help out the other warriors.” you nodded, feeling the comforting warmth of Ao’nung’s hand leave your shoulder. 

Looking back at him, you could see the fear and concern etched on your lover's face. He looked so perplexed, a reaction you’d never seen on his face before.

Before you could take a single step, his arms pulled you in for a hug as if he was shielding you from any threat that could harm you.

He didn’t want you to leave.

Lo’ak and Neteyam groaned, looking instead at the ocean, watching the metkayina and the sky people battle for their opposing goals.

Ao’nung leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. 

"Please be careful."

The sound that came from his mouth was barely but a whisper, as if he would choke if he said it any louder. 

You smiled, placing a hand on his neck reassuringly. 

“I’ll come back to you. I promise.”

As the words left your lips, you waved a farewell to him before going inside the ship, Lo’ak in front of you. 

The thumping of your heart echoed in your chest like an empty chamber. You weren’t going to break a promise. 

At least, 

not this time.

“Lereho!” a guttural, high pitched scream reverberated throughout the forest. 

The sleeping creatures lifted their heads up in the sky, ears pointing in all different directions, attempting to make out the source of the scream.

“LEREHO!” a 7-year-old you screamed even louder, tears flowing down your pale face as you looked at the rusty helicopter. 

The rusty helicopter which had now trapped your friend inside its worn down metal walls, and he scratched against the door endlessly, trying to get out.

“I- I-” your words were unable to come out, your entire body trembling with fear. 

The large metal body was encased in mossy vines that suspended it above the lake, and Eywa knows Lereho couldn’t swim to save his life.

“I’LL GET HELP, LEREHO! PLEASE STAY HERE!” you cried out, praying to the Great Mother he could hear you. 

“I PROMISE I’LL GET YOU OUT OF THERE!” you yelled, your voice hoarse and strained, your entire body buckling down with the weight of your words. 

You turned back and ran as far as you could, as fast as your legs could take you. Your face was all scrunched up and your eyes were full of tears, partly obscuring your vision. 

Branches scratched your body and drew blood from your fresh wounds, but you didn’t care. Guilt overtook your body and put you on autopilot.

If you hadn’t told him to, he wouldn’t have gone in the helicopter with you. 

If you hadn’t been stupid, you wouldn’t have closed the door.

If you hadn’t slipped on the vines on your way back to solid ground, the helicopter wouldn’t be creaking slowly, on its way to submerge him fully in the lake. 

If you hadn’t been friends with him in the first place, maybe he would’ve been alright right now.

You wiped the water from your eyes and the snot from your nose harshly with your bleeding hands. 

By the time you returned with your father, all that was left were the torn apart vines flowing loosely in the wind of the night. 

They couldn’t even retrieve his body.

Beads of water welled up at the corners of your eyes as you crouched along the wall, Spider in your sights. 

Blinking rapidly to get rid of them, you leapt down with Lo’ak, taking care of the humans surrounding your friend mercilessly. 

You screamed as you smashed the last one’s skull along the railing, flipping them into the water, heavy pants leaving your chest as the adrenaline wore off.

“Woah. You alright?” Lo’ak gasped, slightly concerned. 

“I’m fine,” you breathed out. “We have to go, now.”

You grabbed a gun from one of the dead soldiers, and not long after you heard the sounds of rapid gunfire hit metal a bit too close to you for your liking. 

With your instincts you dove out of the way, grabbing Spider with your free hand and quickly crawling along the floor towards the moonpool, ensuring that Lo’ak was still behind you. 

The shots from the gun made the air burn in your lungs, and you coughed vehemently before hiding behind a wall just in front of the moonpool, whispering a quick apology to Spider for being so harsh with him. 

“You two go!” you shouted at the two boys behind you, whipping out your gun in an attempt to kill the bastard who was shooting so restlessly at you. 

“Are you nuts? We aren’t leaving you!” Lo’ak yelled back, considerably offended you’d think he’d abandon you so easily.

“Just go now! I’ll be fine!” you growled, taking another shot at the recom. 

Amidst the deafening sounds of gunfire, you were able to discern two distinct splashes in the water. 

Retreating behind the wall for cover, you swiftly reloaded your weapon with the remaining ammunition scattered on the ground. 

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself and emerged once again, determined to make your final shot count.

Ao’nung whipped his head around frantically as he stood on one of the ships purposed for hunting tulkun, all of the previous occupiers…removed.

He looked towards the ship for any possible sign that you were still okay.

He’d witnessed Lo’ak and Spider riding away from the ship on an ilu, but where were you?

His heart beat faster and faster with every shallow breath he desperately took, unable to imagine what had happened to you. 

Just before he was about to call his own ilu, he heard a loud splash from the water behind him. 

He turned his body, bracing for a surprise attack, but instead, he got a surprise hug.

As your body melded with his, you rested your chin on his shoulder, feeling a calming sense of peace.

At first, his hands trembled as he placed them on your back, taken aback by the sudden embrace. 

But gradually, he relaxed into it, a radiant smile gracing his face as he shut his eyes, savouring every point of contact between your bodies, determined to remember what it felt like. 

There were so many things he’d wanted to say to you, but only three words left his quivering lips. 

“You… came back,” he choked out, even attempting to hug you tighter, before realising that he might have been hurting you- to which he loosened his grip.

You sighed contently, gazing at the water behind him. “I promised.”

Just then, you saw something underneath the ripples of the ocean. 

Everything was too fast for him to process. 

One second, he was hugging you like it was the last thing he could ever do with you in the world.

The next second, it actually was.

His eyelids whipped wide open as he heard a gunshot, his body hitting the floor in the direction opposite to where he was originally standing. 

You threw him out of harm’s way. 

The last time he’d ever seen you was with your mouth agape and pupils shrunken into the size of his thumb, as you fell lifelessly backwards into the water with a loud splash. 

“NO!” he screamed helplessly as he scrambled up from the floor, his knees scraping against metal as he crawled frantically towards the edge to see if you were alright. 

The only thing he could see from the surface of the water was your blood slowly tinting the ocean red. No bubbles. No sign of you resurfacing. 

Without hesitation, he plunged into the blood-red ocean, his body slicing through the water with a sense of urgency. As he dove deeper, his limbs thrashed and flailed, propelled by a desperate need to reach you and bring you back to the surface.

His panicked movements grew increasingly frantic as he searched for you, his bloodshot eyes darting around frantically in the murky depths. Every fibre of his being was focused on finding you, but as he scanned the water, he realised with a jolt that you were nowhere to be found.

Determined to keep searching, he pushed himself to swim deeper, his hands and feet churning the water as he scoured the depths for any sign of you. 

But as he descended further and further into the abyss, his vision began to blur, and his lungs burned with the need for air.

Despite his physical limitations, he refused to give up, driven by a fierce determination to find you. 

All he could see was the trail of your blood, leading him deeper into the unknown.

His fingers outstretched, he tried to reach you, but it was too late. 

His lungs burned with a searing pain as he struggled to hold his breath. But he refused to give up, clinging to the hope that he would find you alive and well.

As the seconds ticked by, his chances grew slimmer, and his body began to betray him. His limbs felt heavy and sluggish, and his vision grew hazy with tears.

Despite his efforts, he simply couldn't hold on any longer. 

He broke the surface of the water, gasping for air as his heart shattered into a million pieces. 

The devastating reality of his failure hit him like a ton of bricks, leaving him reeling with a sense of loss and despair.

A soul-wrenching cry tore through the air.

The sound was so raw and guttural that it felt as if it came from the very depths of the earth itself, carrying with it the weight of a thousand shattered dreams.

It was the kind of cry that would make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, a sound that would haunt you long after battle was over. 

The cries of the wounded and dying were nothing compared to the sheer agony and despair that his cry conveyed. 

The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks - he had lost you forever. 

The person he loved most in this world was gone, sacrificed her life to save his. The weight of his grief was so heavy that it felt like a physical burden, crushing him from the inside out.

He wanted to scream, to wail to Eywa, to beg for a chance to take your place. 

But he was powerless, reduced to a helpless witness of his own tragedy. 

He could feel the weight of his guilt like a physical pain, knowing that you had given your life for his.

Every following moment he had to live without you was a torture, a constant reminder of what he had lost. 

He tried to fill the void with his duties, with distractions, with anything that would make the pain go away, but nothing worked.

He would lie awake at night, imagining the pain you felt, the last moments of your life. He pictured you sinking into the cold, dark depths of the ocean, alone and scared, the light fading from your eyes.

It was a pain that he knew would never truly leave him, a wound that would never fully heal. 

He felt as if a part of him had died with you, and he knew that he would never be whole again.

They couldn’t retrieve your body. You couldn’t have a proper burial. He couldn’t ever see you again, not even through the spirit tree. 

Having to explain what happened to you to your family almost killed him; he could only imagine the pain they felt if he was feeling that way.

He blamed himself. And deep down inside, he knew that they did too.

masterlist

i hope it's sad lol i'm sorry if its not 😭 and tysm for the request @dearstell 💗 i finally got one after like a month 😭 idk i just headcanon that without a proper burial, the na’vi can’t be reconnected with Eywa upon death, so people can’t see them through the spirit tree. it’s an educated headcanon, if you will.

now how do u feel realising the words in the title are actually the reader’s last words?? do u feel upset?? i sure hope u do cause i put lots of thought into that, just for u guys :) 

as always, tysm for reading til the end! I appreciate all your support, comments and reblogs 💗

much love, lorre.

[necromelli]

IMAGINE being in a relationship with both Finnick + Annie <33 all doting and loving and full of cuddles and kisses and warm summer days (fem!reader)

imagine you all are at the market and someone says something about crazy annie, not realizing that one of you could quickly usher annie away while the other tears the person a new one.

imagine annie making you all matching seashell necklaces. she spends forever on them while you and Finnick are swimming (she loves the water, but it's a bad day, and every time she got near it she cried). When you guys finally come back from swimming to rest, she presents them to you with the most prettiest, brightest smile you've ever seen.

Finnick is quick to give her a hug, kissing her cheek as thanks. He puts Annie's on her first, and then yours, and then you insist Annie puts Finnick's on. You weren't sure if you ever saw her so happy before. The smile was permanent for the rest of the day, and even as she slept.

Imagine how'd you all sleep together. Usually, Finnick's in the middle because of some rambling about how he 'needs his two girls'. And, so it's you and Annie cuddled up on either side of Finnick, his big hands touching both of you in some way, shape, or form. Finn's nightmares generally worsen if either of you are gone for the night for any reason.

Annie loves to bake, it's her favorite past time and it helps her mind, and so there's mornings where you and Finnick wake up to a huge breakfast. Sometimes she'll just get in the groove and she can't stop, but if that ever happens and there's leftovers, you'll all package the food up and bring them down to the workers in the market. (At least your favorite vendors who see Annie Cresta for Annie, and not 'crazy Annie')

When Annie is taken to the Capitol, Finnick realizes just how reliant you are on Annie being there. You guys are always taking care of her — and Finn knew he needed her like he needed air, but he never considered it for you. You're not eating, not sleeping, resisting the doctors. The only thing that soothes you is when Finnick plays with your hair and lets you hold Annie's picture. (He doesn't do it the same, but for a few minutes, you can pretend it's Annie's fingers in your hair and not finnick's)

The marriage propo kills you. Coin insists it's you and Finnick, because the Capitol loves you two. Annie is well, Annie, and they believe it would look better with only you. Annie is devastated, but she shoulders it like she does all her insults, and she insists with a smile. It's good for the rebellion, especially if it means we can make it home faster, she tells you. But you won't budge. It's either you all get married or Annie and Finnick get married. Coin finally settles on letting you all get married.

The day of the wedding, Annie is giddy (you are too) and you help her get dressed. You dote her in all sorts of kisses, extra careful with her because of what happened in the Capitol. She's just breathtakingly beautiful that you're crying and Annie's laughing so sweetly at you with her own tears. She gently brushes the tears away — you truly forgot how tender she could be — while fixing your makeup that got smudged. She kisses your nose and tells you she loves you.

And, when Finnick sees the two of you, he's nothing but the biggest smile you've ever seen. His dimples deep, eyes crinkled, teeth poking his lip. You and Annie are standing together, Finnick in front, and you're all holding hands. It's beautiful, really, and you couldn't be happier to be married to your two favorite people.

[tiredfox64]

Blessed with his favor

Prior notes: Let’s do this again folks. Let that criminal be thankful I’m not deciding their fate. Also that outfit where he got his titty out got me acting like a fool 😩🤌. (I’m sorry I raw dogged it again, I’ll fix it)

Pairing: Rain(MK11) x Worshipper! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: NSFW, can we even say god complex if he’s a god?, praising (as a treat), blowjob, creampie, cockwarming (that’s his treat)

No one needs Rain to be their ally, but they don’t need him to be their enemy either. Lord Raiden surely doesn’t need Rain pestering him or risking harm to Earthrealm.

You’ve been a disciple of Raiden’s for quite a while. You helped out with Liu Kang and Kung Lao all the time. One of your roles was to be a messenger of sorts. And right now that will be your sole role for a while. because you will be giving the Prince of Edenia gifts. Luckily, you have some craft hands with a creative mind. So thinking and making a gift for him won’t be the hard part. It’s the delivery part that scares you. As much as he didn’t want to do this to you he found it might be the best course of action.

So you got to work. The first gift? A ring. A ring with an amethyst gem in the middle. Gained straight from a geode. Hopefully the prince will love it.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Rain was already moody. Upset with the lack of worshippers, upset with the lack of allies, upset with Kitana for not freeing Edenia. The palace was tense as everyone would occasionally hear Rain grumble as he sat on his watery throne. Only one guard was brave enough to approach Rain as they had something important to tell him. They quickly informed him that he had a guest and they have something special for him. Immediately the grumbling stopped and his head slightly perked up.

“Is that so? Who is this person that has a gift for me?” He asked the poor guard.

“I believe they said they were someone close to the Protector of Earthrealm. They said they had a gift for you as a way of showing peace.” The guard just wanted to be done already.

Rain contemplated letting this person in. An Earthrealmer wanting to make peace? He almost didn’t want to entertain the idea. But the sound of a gift just for him did entice him to accept them in. He alerted the guard to let the person in quickly.

And there you were, strolling in with a small box in your hand. Your steps were careful, too afraid to move fast in front of the guards. The sight of Rain almost made you turn back around. Maybe cause he was a demigod. Maybe it was his muscles that scared you. Maybe it was his outfit that showed half his chest area. You didn’t wanna get caught staring so your eyes shifted everywhere but there.

You made your way to Rain. Just one look into his eyes and you were petrified to mess up. You went down on one knee before him and had your head lowered. You were looking down at the floor before speaking.

“I have a gift for you, your highness. An act of worship. I’ve made this gift with my own hands, just for you.” You swallowed hard when you finished talking.

“Well I never would have expected someone from Earthrealm to actually come and worship the prince. A wise choice, even from someone who seems close to Raiden.” His voice sounded like honey to you, almost tempting you to look up at him. “Open the box, earthrealmer. I want to see this gift.”

You did just that. You opened the box. At first it revealed what seemed to be a rock. Rain almost believed this was a joke that would end up getting you killed. You quickly flipped open the rock only to show it was a geode. The same geode you used to make the amethyst ring. There the ring was in the middle. If only you could have seen Rain’s face when you showed him the true gift. There was a sparkle in his eyes and he could feel his heart beat quicken a little. It was gorgeous.

“My my, what a lovely ring. And you said you made this yourself?” He asked as he took the ring out and placed it on his ring finger.

“Y-yes, I did. It’s a talent of mine. And I found the gem to be just right for you. Perfect for a prince.” You are saying the right words to him.

He just admired the ring and how it fitted him perfecting. The beautiful purple gem shined in the light and the gold band matched well with his other rings. No one has ever been so thoughtful, so creative with their offering to him. He had such a smug smirk on his face before looking down at you again.

“Excellent craftsmanship, earthrealmer. You have pleased me. I would have never expected that from someone like you.” He said it so condescendingly but you had to bite your tongue.

“Thank you, your highness. I’m grateful to please a man like you.” You said before looking up and seeing that smug smirk on his face growing larger.

You got back on your feet and handed Rain the geode case. You started to walk away before hearing Rain call out to you one more time.

“Oh and earthrealmer, I do wish for you return soon. I’d love to see what else you can do.” All you could do was nod before getting out of there like a bat out of hell.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You did well to make the prince happy. Rain was more than delighted to have a worshipper who used her own hands to create gifts for him. It’s what he felt he deserves as the Son of Argus. He was in love with the feelings and the gifts. You did your best to balance your life while also having the time to make Rain gifts to bring to him each week. Whenever a guard or servant came to him he anticipated hearing that you just arrived. If it wasn’t that he quickly grew disappointed before acting as if all was fine. More and more you gave, necklaces, more rings, a box to keep the jewelry in, beautiful stones, and geodes you would find and crack open. Each time his heart would race and his desire grew almost unbearable. Even just the sight of you made him grow hard and he had to control himself.

You were already sensing that he was getting a bit too attached with you. He was getting touchy as well. His fingers would lightly graze your hand and wrist when he took the gifts from you. He would tilt your head up to look at him as he spoke to you. Sometimes he would even place his hand at the top of your head, almost petting you at times. Each time you froze up.

Yet Lord Raiden kept sending you over and you kept making those gifts. With how happy you were making Rain there was less to worry about. Even Kitana was saying she hadn’t had any instances with Rain causing problems in Outworld. You had a lot on your shoulders and you couldn’t mess things up. You will just be careful from now on. Except Rain had different ideas.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

When you arrived back you thought you would be going straight to the throne room. But a guard guided you somewhere else. You didn’t really know where you were going but you did see a lot of guards standing near one door. They opened the door and before you could comprehend what the room was you were pushed in, hearing the door slam shut behind you. Well that was just rude.

“My favorite worshipper. I see you have another gift for me.” You heard the playfulness in his voice.

You recovered a little and started glancing around the room. It was just as luxurious as the rest of the place but the furniture inside told you all. You’re in Rain’s bedroom.

Why am I here? Why are we not in his throne room? Why is HE not in his throne room? Is he getting too comfortable with me? He’s getting too comfortable with me.

You were lost in your own thoughts you didn’t realize you were standing awkwardly in front of him. You dropped down on one knee immediately and held out the gift for him. Just like you usually do. Just like how this should go.

“Yes I do. I always have something just for you.”

“Of course you do. But I do feel bad that you are always on one knee,” There was sarcasm in his words, “It must be hard to stay steady like that. Here, let me help.”

Before you could protest or ask what he meant by that, Rain slightly kicked in front of him which cause a tiny wave to form. The wave pushed your ankle which almost made you fall on your face. That’d be embarrassing. You luckily balanced yourself without dropping the gift. But now you’re fully kneeling in front of him. Kneeling like you truly worshipped him and prayed to him. Before you could even ask him what is the meaning of this, Rain got very close to you. Too close for comfort. He took the gift from your hands and placed it somewhere else, not even looking at it. His hand lifted your chin up and held your face in place so you were forced to look at him. That look in Rain’s eyes didn’t sit right with you. He looked…hungry…desperate for something.

“I have been loving every single one of your gifts so far, earthrealmer. You do better than anyone in Edenia could ever do. There is one thing, however, that I would love to receive from you. You’ve been very obedient so I don’t think this will be an issue.” His tone slowly because more lustful.

You can’t act ignorant anymore. You knew what Rain wanted. The position tells you all. Raiden didn’t have any plan for you to escape this. You almost didn’t want to escape this. This probably would do good for everyone involved. And who else could say they sucked a god’s dick. Well, demigod.

“I guess today you will receive a different kind of worship. Hopefully this kind will make you just as happy as my gifts did.” You said in a low voice as you watched Rain’s eyes widen in delight.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

The sight of you on your knees for Rain will be something he treasures. Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock as you struggled to take it all in. His hand had a grip on your hair as he continued using your mouth. Even when you tried to place your hands on his thighs to prevent him from going too deep that did little to stop him. Though it did excite him more knowing you were struggling to take him in. Little bits of drool started slipping out as your tongue kept swirling around his tip. You have no idea how long this could last so you better give it your all.

Rain could not hold back from groaning as he lightly thrusted into your mouth. The more he did it the closer it got to the back of your throat. When you felt the tip hit the back of your throat you gagged a little before recovering. The feeling was so new to you. You were choking on it yet it felt so thrilling. Your jaw couldn’t handle this.

“Look up at me, worshipper. Look up to your god.” Rain commanded you.

And you obeyed that command. With teary eyes you looked up at him as he used you for his pleasure. And because you obeyed he truly felt like he owned you. You were his worshipper, loyal to him. The thought alone and seeing those pretty eyes sent him over the edge.

Rain’s head went back as thrusted into your mouth one more time. The tears that formed in your eyes slipped down your cheeks as you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth. His cum slipped down your throat, forcing you to swallow it all. You never knew when it would end. When it did he pulled out of your mouth to allow you to breathe. He could see how your drool covered his cock, even a string of saliva that still was connected between it and your mouth. After catching your breath you felt his hand grab your face, forcing your mouth to stay open. He looked into your mouth as if he were observing it.

“You swallowed it all, what a good worshipper.” Rain praised you surprisingly before letting you go.

You thought that would be the end of it. You pleased him, that should be all. Oh please, this is Rain we are talking about, it’s never enough for the Son of Argus. That’s why he grabbed you again and dragged you to sit on his lap. You let out a little ‘huh’ before he started speaking again.

“Don’t tell me your can’t handle anymore. There is still much to do.” He whispered as he forced your pants and underwear off.

You let out a little yelp as you tried to collect your clothes again, worried that he actually ripped them. His arm was wrapped tight around your waist as his other hand went to take your shirt off. He must do this with a lot of women cause that was too quick. Your mind couldn’t comprehend anything. Rain seemed desperate to have you. And he was desperate to look at you as he fucked you.

“Woah, woah, woah, wait, are you sure you wan-“ You got cut off when you felt his cock being pushed into your pussy, causing you to let out a little moan.

Rain gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size before thrusting into you. Those few seconds were not enough as it still felt like he would split you in half. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders as you tried to adapt to it all. Meanwhile Rain was more than pleasured. Feeling your pussy squeeze around his cock and feeling your nails dig into his shoulders drove him crazy. He started leaving kisses on your neck that soon turned to sucking. It made you shiver as you finally adjusted to his size.

You gave up on keeping quiet. The guards on the other side of the door already knew this would happen. Your heavy breathing and moans echoed in the room with the sound of skin slapping together accompanying it. All your fears and worries slipped away from you and all you could focus on was the pleasure. You payed no mind to Rain even as he started to lightly bite down on your shoulder. He was purposely trying to mark you. Hickeys on your neck and bite marks on your shoulder. The pain from it only intensified the pleasure.

“Doesn’t it feel good to worship me. Look at what I can provide you. All this…just for you.” He whispered in your ear as he shoved his cock deeper into you.

You’re seeing stars at this point. So loopy and cock drunk you just hummed in agreement. You felt that pressure building up inside you that told you were about to cum soon. Rain was just as close. So he got rough, slamming into your sweet spot over and over that it sent both of you over the edge.

You were surprised to feel Rain’s hand behind your head, pushing it down until you felt his lips against yours. His kisses were just as rough as everything else. You were thankful for it actually since it muffled all the moans that were coming from you. Your pussy milked his cock as he filled you up with his cum. You felt so full and warm inside.

You had to catch your breath again after that experience. Rain kept you on his lap and was letting you cockwarm him. It’s amazing that he was still hard after cumming twice. He actually liked holding you and enjoyed the feeling of your warm pussy surround his cock.

“That was quite wonderful, my worshipper. I must thank you again for doing this. I just know you loved it too.” He’s so arrogant but he was so right.

“By the elder gods…I can’t remember a man ever making me feel that way.” Don’t stroke his ego too hard he might explode again.

Rain chuckled at your words, his ego being boosted even more. Before he could say anything else to you there was a moment of clarity. How long have you been here? Oh dear…

You immediately got off of Rain even though your legs couldn’t fully support you. You had to lean on a nearby wall to help support you as you threw your clothes on. You felt his cum dripping down your leg which made you shiver with excitement. No time to think about that, just throw your clothes on!

“Aww, do you really have to go? I’ve been enjoying your company and we can still have more fun.” Rain said playfully as he watched you struggle to put your clothes on.

“Sorry, prince. I have to return to Earthrealm.” You excused yourself as you managed to put your clothes back on. You reached for the door handle before Rain said one more thing to you.

“I understand, my worshipper. But do remember to visit me soon again. I’d be devastated if my adorable, loyal worshipper never returned to me. If you don’t, I’ll get you myself. But that would mean a possible punishment.” Rain smirked at you, knowing he could mess with you all he wants. And of course you nodded frantically, knowing you were gonna return anyways.

And so you left his bedroom, stumbling out like you were drunk. The guards avoided you and you avoided them. Some did watch you as you leaned against the walls occasionally to make sure you wouldn’t fall. You better start thinking of an excuse as to why you were late coming back. However Lord Raiden might already understand why that is, the evidence is all over your neck and shoulders. What a day you had.

After notes: Y’ALL! I can’t believe people actually liked my work. That’s actually insane to me, thank you all. I would have popped this one out earlier but uh…it was a Sunday. I already messed up by posting on Good Friday I won’t post stuff like this on Easter Sunday. But please I hope y’all like this one I think MK11 Rain needs hella love (even if he is a little arrogant and dare I say moody). If things go well I might do more characters because my heart is open to others. And if you wanna know my AO3 account where I will probably post this over on there as well it’s GalacticFox_64. Adiós!

[lil-spider]

So Damn Pretty

Chapter 2

Part 1 : Part 3 :

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter X Female Reader

Summary: Johnny is sex starved and you’re very attractive, so attractive that he doesn’t want to kill you. Instead he finds ways to keep you around longer.

Note: Okey I’ve changed some stuff so here’s some context. I like the idea of Johnny being a bit of an sex addict and he’s really good at sex (he can find the clit type of good) cause he’s made himself a hobby fucking the pretty female victims and going out to the local bar when he actually gets free time. He’s a basically massive man whore, but he can’t help it that women find him sexy (super cocky). But Drayton later finds out he’s been fucking the food (lmao) and has temporarily banned him from going out by himself and keeping the female victims away from him. So a sex starved Johnny who’s heavily attracted to the reader sees an opportunity to use her like a maid so he can constantly keep fucking her. I’m still gonna keep the baby momma thing but that will come later in the story. Oh and I’m turning 21 on the 17th! So happy birthday to my fellow September babies!

Warning: This is 18+ and please do not read if your sensitive to heavy descriptions of non/con and violence. Including bondage, blood, gore, assault, objectification and unsafe sex. For those who don’t mind, I hope you enjoy.

Catchy music was blearing out of the front speakers of the minivan; my friends Jessica and Nate were singing along to the tunes. I was sitting in the back, relaxing into my seat, enjoying the fact that college was finished and summer holidays were just beginning. We decided this summer we were going to experience camping for the first time. We had all grown up in the city and never got the chance to enjoy the country side of Texas. I’m excited to finally cross camping off my bucket list, and make this summer memorable.

 

My bubbly blonde friend Jessica turned around in her seat. “Two hours left, and we should be at the campsite before night.” She said this, grinning at me and turning back to kiss her boyfriend, Nate, on the cheek. Nate, being the protective type, only tagged along with us as he didn’t like the idea of two ‘pretty girls’ camping by themselves in the middle of nowhere. They have only been dating for a few months; he’s the classic teen heartthrob with dazzling eyes and short, dark blonde hair, and Jessica is the overly cute blonde. They were perfect for each other. I smile at the both of them, they were great friends.

 

“Oh fuck!” Nate is panicking as black smoke starts coming out of the hood. He pulls over to the side of the road, and all of us get out to see what’s wrong. “Can’t it be fixed?” I ask, looking at Nate, worried. His face contorts in disappointment. “I've got no idea, Y/N; cars aren’t my speciality.”

We all look at each other, uncertain of what to do; we’re in the remote countryside without any sort of help. “We might have to walk back if no one drives by.” Nate tells us regretfully: But as soon as he said that, we saw an old blue Ford truck honking and driving up to us.

 

“You need a hand?” The unknown driver asked Nate. “Yes please! Our van just broke down with smoke coming out.” Nate explained to the man. He nods his head and parks his truck in front of us. The trucks door opens, and out climbs one of the best-looking guys I have ever seen. He wears a black sleeveless top that shows off his muscular arms and a pair of blue denim jeans paired with dirty yellow gloves. He has dark brown hair slicked back with a few strands falling over a scar; my cunt embarrassingly throbbed at the sight of him; I must have gone red in the face as he smirked looking at me. I quickly turned my head to look at Jessica, who was also a little red in the face. It’s not every day you see a hot country boy.

 

The handsome stranger introduces himself as Johnny Slaughter. “Good to meet you, Johnny. I’m Nate, over there is my girlfriend Jessica and my friend Y/N.” I did a little wave at my name, hoping I wasn’t still blushing. He shakes Nates hand and nods his head to us. “Ladies. Damn, he has a deep voice; it’s making me all hot and bothered. “Alrighty then Nate, pop the hood and let's take a look.”

 

Johnny stared at the engine, arms pressed against the van, leaning over while shaking his head. “I’m going to have to get my tools for this.” He said, looking over at us. ‘’Ah, shit! That bad?" Nate asked. “Yep, but don’t y’all worry, I’ll get this baby fixed in the morning. For now I can take you guys back to my family’s home, get some food, and sleep?’’ Johnny offered. “Wow, that’s so nice of you, Johnny.’’ Jessica replied, smiling at him, being a little too flirty.

 

I feel a little uncertain about trusting Johnny, we have only just met him; but he is helping us and I would rather not sleep on the side of the road. Jessica and I nod to Nate in agreement with Johnny’s offer. “Okay, yeah, we’ll go with you.’’ Nate tells him. He smiles, slamming the hood of the van back down, and turns, leading us back to his truck. He opens the back door, and we three slide in. As Johnny hops into the driver's seat, we are greeted by a woman sitting in the passenger seat. Was she here the whole time? “Hi y'all, I’m Sissy.’’ She introduces herself with a wink, but before we could reply, she blows this white powder in our faces. My vision starts to blur as I hear strangled coughing from my friends, and everything quickly goes black.

 

The next thing I know, I’m waking up tied to a meat hook, covered in dry blood, and desperate for freedom. At that time I had no idea where Jessica and Nate could be, but now as I stare at their lifeless, brutalised corpses, I regret not trying to find them. Jessica's blonde hair is tangled, and her body is covered in slices, with a massive cut on her stomach. Nate's handsome face was shredded up by a chainsaw. They are getting wrapped in a blue tarp, by a larger man with a very human like mask on his face. Johnny takes a drag of his cigarette while holding me, and he shoots me a grin, seeing my legs wobble from the hard fucking I endured. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you? So slutty having an orgasm while your friends get murdered.’’ He taunts quietly in my ear, guilt-tripping me.

 

“Johnny, why is she still alive?” Asked the small woman who blew white powder in my face. It’s Sissy, I think, trying to remember her name. “This pretty little thing is going to help us cook, clean, and do all the daily chores around the house. We’ve been needing extra hands around the farm since Ma is gone and Drayton busy with the chilli carnivals.’’ He explains to Sissy. She looks at me up and down, smirking. “Oh, I’ve been wantin’ some female company for ages now, and you're so beautiful too! I have these pretty ol’ dresses that would look lovely-,” she didn’t finish her sentence as she’s cut off by Johnny. “That’s enough, Sissy; you can talk to her later; we've got sh*t to do.’’ She rolls her eyes at him but goes to help the larger man.

 

Johnny pats the larger man on the back, “You did a good job, Bubba.’’ So Bubba is his name. He just lets out these happy groans. So he’s nonverbal?Johnny turns back to me. “Were you listening before? Tomorrow, Sissy will show you how things get done.” With a cig in his mouth, he grabs me again, pulling me out of the slaughterhouse and bringing me to his parked truck. “I’ll cut off the zip-tie when we get back home.’’ He opens the passenger-side door, waiting for me to hop in. He shuts the door after me and flicks away his burned-out cigarette, reaching in his back pocket for another one. Johnny walks away as Sissy plops into the back seat. “Hi again sugar.” She says gleefully behind me.

 

Johnny and Bubba walk back, carrying each body on their shoulders, I swallow a lump as they chuck the bodies carelessly in the tray. Johnny, with another cigarette in his mouth, gets into the driver's seat, Bubba sits next to Sissy. Johnny chucks his packet of smokes and bloodied gloves from his back pocket onto the dash. He starts up the engine and changes gears, leaving the slaughterhouse behind. The drive is silent except for Sissy’s humming; Bubba stares out of his window while Johnny drives one handed flicking his finished cigarette out the window. I look back to the front, watching the high beam lights brighten up the dark landscape.

 

We turn onto a long dirt road leading up to a white, two-story house. Johnny parks the truck at the front and helps Bubba unload the bodies. Sissy goes to unlock the front door, leaving me alone. I thought of running when they took the bodies into the house. But I’m still zip-tied, so my chances of escaping now are extremely slim.

 

Johnny comes back to open my door and yank me out. He roughly drags me inside. I look around and notice a lot of bone decor, similar to the hanging bones in the slaughterhouse. I really hope it’s not human. I’m brought downstairs to a basement, Johnny opens this metal door, it makes a loud awful sound. He takes me to a small prison; Johnny stops to cut off the zip-tie, and I rub my sore wrists, trying to bring the blood to flow back. Johnny pushes me into the room, locking the door. It’s smells disgusting and damp.

 

“I'll be back to bring ya’ dinner.’’ He leaves upstairs, slamming that awful metal door. I sit down on the dirt floor and bring my knees to my chest. Dried-up cum is all over my thighs, making me feel gross. I started to cry. The last few hours have been horrid. I wish it was just a nightmare. The basement door slides open again. Snivelling, I stand to see who's down here. It’s that large man with the mask, Bubba; he walks over to the end of the basement, where I see Jessica and Nate’s hanging bodies, stomachs sliced open with their organs dropped into a metal tub. My hands shake as I cover my mouth in shock. Oh God! Bubba unhooks Nate and carries him over to a workbench littered with dirty tools. He grabs a hacksaw and begins to dismember Nate. I walk backwards into a corner, sliding down the wall. I started to breakdown. Is he harvesting them? Are these murderers cannibals? God, why did this happen? From sheer exhaustion, I lean my head back and pass out.

 

“Hey! Wake up!’’ My eyes shot open, searching for the yelling voice. It’s Johnny; he’s holding a white bowl with a spoon. He crouch’s down to my level and hands out the bowl for me to take. I hesitate because I am sceptical of the ingredients. “It’s pot roast; Sissy made it.’’ It does smell delicious, but I don’t wanna eat it. “I’m not hungry,” I told him in defiance. His eye twitches in annoyance, not liking my response. He grabs my hair roughly, craning my neck to stare at him. “Listen, I’m being really fucking nice here, so I ain’t gonna take any disrespect! You may be pretty, but I can easily get another woman who is just a tad more obedient to replace you.’’ His threat worked. I snatched the bowl and dug in, It was tasty. “Good girl.’’ He smiled, patting my head as I ate. He waits until I’m finished and leaves. Did I eat someone? Will I have to eat my friends? I have so many questions but right now the only thing that matters is staying alive. I don’t want to end up like Jessica and Nate.

Sometime later, Johnny comes back to let me out. “Follow me," I obeyed him, leaving the basement and following upstairs. He brings me to a bathroom. It has white broken tiles, a large bathtub with a shower head. He locks the door after I enter and turns the water on, letting it heat up. He throws off his top, giving a new view of his muscular body. I couldn’t help but stare. He has old scars lingering over his body more noticeably on his large pecs, he’s has light definition on his abdomen, and a defined v-cut. His body represents the result of hard work. He smirks at my staring, continuing he unbuckles his jeans, pulling them down. I quickly glance wanting to get a good look at his cock. It’s only semi-hard yet it’s still intimidating, how did it managed to fit inside me?

 

Johnny doesn’t move as he waits for me to undress. Not wanting to anger him again, I take off my dress, dropping the tattered material. I shiver in my naked form. He gently takes my hand and helps me into the shower. I hiss as the hot water makes my cuts sting. He grabs a plain bar of soap and starts lathering it up and down my body. Enjoying my little gasps as he squeezes my tits and glides his hands everywhere. He swaps us around so he goes under the water, his muscles flex as he relaxes, his head falling back, closing his eyes, while his hands run through his dark hair.

 

I won’t lie; just the sight of him is turning me on. Shit, why does he have to be so sexy? A murderer shouldn’t be sexy. Startling me out of my thoughts, he grabs my hand that’s holding the soap and moves it to his body, wanting me to wash him. Nervous, I don’t refuse, but I start out slowly around his stomach, leading up to his chest. This small action makes him rock hard. I see it pulse against his lower stomach just above his belly button, I bite my tongue scrubbing his body with both hands, massaging his chest and arms, feeling his muscles. The hot look he gives me sends a throb straight to my core. Water gently running down his handsome face. He brings my right soapy hand down to his cock, tugging it. “Come on baby, jerk my fucking cock.’’ I hesitate for a second, he squeezes my hand hard as a slight warning not to disobey. Wincing, I start to tug at his cock up and down, jerking him off. Groaning, he rocks his hips, shifting them into my hand, following my rhythm. “Good girl, play with my cock, just like that’’ He’s a head taller then me so when he grabs my chin to look at him I have to bend my neck back. “I bet your pussy’s dripping.’’

 

He swats my hand away and grabs my hips, bringing me in closer under the water so the soap starts rinsing off. He places his fingers below and, feels up my pussy, “I fucking knew it; you're such a needy whore, getting wet from jerking my cock off.’’ I grow shy at his words, wanting to hide my face from embarrassment. Johnny places his hands on the sides of my head and shoves his tongue down my throat. Heavily aroused, I kissed back, holding on to his shoulders. We start making out, our hot tongues wrestling with each other. His strong arms pick me up and shove me against the shower wall. I wrap my legs around his waist for balance while he lines his cock up thrusting it in my cunt without warning. I groan at the sudden intrusion: “Shhh, it’ll only take a second.’’ He says impatiently pounding into me. His hard cock reaches new places, making me moan desperately. The running water muffles the sounds of flesh clapping together. He grips my hips hard as he thrusts upward at a brutal pace. This time only focusing on his own release.

 

He leans back to watch my chest bounce. “Fuck, I love your tits.’’ He says with admiration as he slows down to suckle on each nipple. His obsession with my breasts is going to be the end of me. I start getting closer again until he stops, suddenly cumming inside me. “Ah,’’ he lets out a little moan as he fills my throbbing cunt. I look at him in disappointment, I was so close to cumming. He grins playful at me. He places me down as we go back to washing, I silently fume as my pussy and clit pulse from neglect.

 

We dry ourselves, and he puts on new, clean clothes similar to his older ones, but the shirt is blue. He hands me a white summer dress. “One of Sissy’s.’’ He tells me, “any underwear?’’ I question. He just sends an amusing smile and shakes his head. “That's a privilege, sweetheart.’’ Great; it wouldn’t have been bad if the dress wasn’t so short. If I bend over too far, I’ll flash my goods.

 

Johnny leads away to what seems to be his room. Everything is old and wooden; including a worn-out bed barely big enough for two people. He lays down on it and pats his side, signalling me to sit. I lay down on his bed as he sits up going in between my legs, pushing up my new dress. “I like the easy access.’’ He tells me right before sucking on my swollen clit. “Nnnnh.’’ I moan breathlessly finally having some relief. His two middle fingers slide in and set a steady pace. I spread my legs wider for him, still turned on from the shower fuck. He shoves his tongue flat against my nub, licking it up and down. I push his head further into me, thrusting against his face; this spurs him on as his fingers speed up. I cum on his face, my head thrown back, as my hands grip the sheets tight. I rut into him as he licks up all my juices.

Just when I thought we were done he thrusts his fingers back into me. I try to close my legs and wiggle away from the overstimulation but Johnny forces them open. He lets out a deep chuckle at the tears rolling out my eyes, I clench on his thick fingers as he puts his thumb on my sensitive clit, rubbing it in slow circles. I still hold onto the sheets while lifting up my hips, trying to chase my second release. He hears my needy whines and speeds up, swapping to his other thumb to rub my clit faster while his opposite hand continues finger fucking me. “Fuck, Johnny please don’t stop.’’ I beg him as I cum around his fingers. I gasp at the abruptness of my second orgasm. My legs shake from the intensity. Johnny pulls his hands away from me as I turn to the side, squeezing my legs trying to relieve the sensations.

 

He casually stands up walking to the desk across the room grabbing a cig, lighting it. Cig in mouth he undresses, getting ready bed. I watch him smoke, flicking the ashes in a tray on the desk. When I finally calm down he’s finished the cigarette, he turns of a lamp comes to lay down behind me, getting comfortable. He wraps one arm around my waist and helps me take of my dress letting it drop to the floor, So both of us now naked. “I'll set up a room for you soon; for now, you’ll stay with me.’’ He speaks softly. I try to get comfortable on the small bed wiggling slightly. “You keep moving like that and I’m going to fuck you again.” He threatens squeezing me tight. I freeze, too sensitive to test his patience.

“Hey Johnny?” I gently whisper his name. The only response I get is snoring, now left with no distractions I go back to my thoughts. I feel guilty knowing I’ve been enjoying Johnny’s company too much, I shouldn’t feel this comfortable with him but the more he cuddles into me the more my eyes feel heavy, I start to fall sound asleep in the arms of a killer.

[star-rie]

episode dedicated to banished!merlin and seperated!morgana in s4 from my fix it au:

warning: this is LONG

a bit background: there’s a year and a half timeskip between s3 finale and this ep.

merlin had been training, and getting closer to his roots (studying magic, becoming one with nature, etc etc, no he didn’t go back to ealdor) all the while protecting camelot from the shadows (yes arthur had been getting into a few troubles now and then and merlin had always been there, but never really appearing in front of his face, arthur knows but never really comments about it, settles for ignoring him)

meanwhile after a few months after the s3 finale (morgana and morgouse attacked camelot) morgana finally had a huge fight with her sister and they go on their own ways. So now morgana is alone, doesn’t really know what to do since she killed uther, but doesn’t want to obliterated camelot either

So during season 3 aithusa was born and shes been helping merlin and morgana there and then, there’s also mordred. Oh and merlin’s magic is public information at this point

*

actual ep:

episode starts off with morgana, tending to her cottage. She lives in the middle of the woods, in the middle of no where. She’s trully alone now, after the fight with morgause. She regretted it a little. Maybe her sister is right, maybe bringing camelot to total destruction and crowning her queen is the best course of action.

But morgana didn’t want that. She just wants uther’s reign to end. It’s not her place now to rule camelot, there’s really no benefit in killing everyone either. Although there really is no change, arthur is still banning magic…

Morgana puts down her firewood with a bit too much force. Truth is morgause is right. Magic is still banned in the land, even in Arthur’s reign. And morgana is scared. She isn’t ready to kill her brother, she isn’t ready to kill the girl who’s there for her each night, every time she’s confused of her nightmares, or the citizens that gave her flowers. Morgana remembers uther’s look of despair and confusion, she feels her hand trembles

Morgause: (in a flashback) You’re nothing but a coward Morgana! A coward!

No matter, she’s not part of it anymore, it’s better to leave it alone. Let morgause finish their revenge.

When morgana leaves to wash her cauldron, it feels weird. It felt like she’s being watched. She scanned the woods with her magic, she didn’t feel anything. That’s really strange, morgana must be…

.

.

.

The first thing morgana sees is the stone floor. Her head is splitting, her vision is unfocused. Morgana sits up slowly, trying to regain balance.

The room is dark, she can barely see anything. When she tries to move her hair, she realizes that she’s chained to the wall

Great. She’s kidnapped.

She scowls, trying to free herself from the chains. She tries to draw her magic, but she feels nothing. Whoever kidnapped her knows what they’re dealing with…

She hears a groan from her left and she saw a man. Wearing god knows what. Laying on the floor, chained like she is. She calls for him, trying to wake him up. The more she looks at him, the more she felt like she knew this man.

???: where am i… Morgana: (realize who this is) Merlin??? Merlin: …morgana…?

The man looked at her, no longer the merlin she last seen. He looks like a stray being, as if he’s the spirit of the forest. He is covered in cloth, a cloak on his head. His skin peaks out from where the cloth didn’t touch him, even in the dark, morgana can see the light bouncing off his slender thighs and the faint outline of his….nipple

Morgana: you look like a prostitute… Merlin: that's rich from someone who dress like a beggar Morgana: I’ll have you know this is one of the finest dresses i have- Merlin: Your hair could really do some work Morgana: you don't get to say that when you don't need to maintain your hair every day!!

They bicker back and forth about their fashion choices. Morgana also hates his serving clothes, especially that tattered neckerchief on his neck…And he barely changes everything. It’s a boring to look at every single day. At least Gwen changes her clothes once in a while.

It was so heated they didn’t notice the door opening until they heard footsteps entering the room. They eye their predator carefully, backing themselves to the wall. But the guards only un-cuffs them from the wall, forcing them to stand.

They were bringing into a room, full of people with chains on their hands. Morgana stands close to Merlin, maybe Morgana can kill him when he wasn’t looking, morgana HATES him after all…

The ringleader came into view, told them to fight to the death. Anyone who succeed can go to the second round or something morgana wasn’t really listening. She’s too busy to think of ways of killing Merlin.

They put a bunch of weapon in the middle of the room, probably to aid them or something. Morgana grabs a sword just in case. Merlin didn’t grab anything. What an idiot.

Ringleader: The battle starts….now

It was a blur after that. Morgana remembers slaying people, people who aren’t merlin. Morgana tries to cast a spell towards him every now and then, she saw Merlin doing the same. But it was never strong enough to kill, probably too distracted by the threat in front of them.

It suddenly stops. Only Morgana and a few other people stands unscathed, including Merlin, always Merlin. It makes a lot of sense now why he has a habit of not dying. Morgana remembers when she discovers that he has magic. What a hypocrite.

They were thrown to their prison cells not long after. After a speech that morgana really didn’t bother to listen

(in their cell)

Merlin: You have any idea what they want? (body swelling with blood and bruises) Morgana: we’re stuck in a slavery ring

Morgana seen one back when she was still with morgause. She tracks them down when one crosses her path, a potential army for her. She remembers that one of those rings would pit off prisoners like this, probably to find new slaves

Morgana: I couldn’t wait to see your demise when one of those brutes mortally wound you…” (giggling, imagining Merlin suffering a slow and painful death) Merlin: (shakes his head) look morgana…i’m sorry alright? I didn’t mean to betray you like that, and i… Morgana: i don’t want to hear your excuses you liar! You’re the same as that old fool! (screaming)

morgana wish she can slit his throat right now. Morgana wants to stab her dagger, revenge for every time Gaius told her she doesn’t have magic, for every time merlin stay quiet

Merlin: well i’m sorry for being a liar when i’m constantly threatened to be executed! At least you don’t get to suffer any consequences!! Morgana: you don’t get to say that!! You meddle into things when you don’t need to!!

they scream to each-other faces. Spit and all. It’s a bit disgusting, but Merlin is more disgusting. And every time she hears his excuses it brings something ugly within her. When Morgana was about to throw another insult at his face the door opens harshly

Guard: Quiet before I snap your necks (throwing a piece of bread and then leaving) Morgana: …at least i’m not an idiot in love like you Merlin: what do you mean? Morgana: (snorts) you spent every single day protecting arthur from harm, you took poisons and blows for arthur, you poisoned me because i’m hurting arthur, you hunt a child like a pig because of some wishy-washy prophecy, a child merlin, a child! Merlin: … Morgana: how’s arthur? was he sad that i killed his daddy??

it didn’t go unnoticed that Merlin was silent at the mention of his brother. Which was weird, usually when she brought him up he never shut up about him.

Merlin: (gets the bread, tossing it to Morgana with his bound hand) eat up, tomorrow is going to be a rough day Morgana: I don’t want food from you (tosses it back to him with gnawing stomach) it’s probably poisoned anyways Merlin: (sighs) if i ate it and i didn’t die, would you eat it? Morgana: ….no

merlin shrugs, biting a bit of his bread. When he shows no indication of poisoning, he tosses it back to her

Merlin: See? No poison Morgana: (rolled her eyes, grumpily tossing the bread back to him) i don’t trust you until you finished it

they toss the bread back and forth, biting into it until there’s no more food left to toss. After another stupid remark, Morgana greets him goodnight, and sleep on her side of the cell

It became a routine after that, they were toss at the arena, got toss back in the cell, tossed back at the arena….

Morgana hates it when she spends time with him. She’s sick of Merlin’s wicked humor. When he managed to rung a laugh out of her. For the first time since Morgause she feels like she’s not alone anymore

Merlin: …and then I told him that it was a sidhe, but he didn’t believe me! Morgana: Well he’s stupid, the stupidest man i’ve ever known…

Morgana didn’t enjoy talking to him, she hates it, she’s sick of the joy crawling on her skin

Morgana: What about Gwen? Merlin: Gwen? Oh she’s fine, she’s sad when you’re gone that time, we couldn’t really comfort her, it’s the same with arthur…it’s the same with everyone really…we miss you Merlin: …and what about you? What of you and arthur? Merlin: … Morgana: Oh come on merlin! There must be something that you did right? It’s been what? A year since that kiss? I saw it you know. Surely you already did something?? Are you still Arthur’s manservant? i don’t know how you handle that magic though…are you still keeping secrets from him? Why are you here anyways? Is arthur here with you? Merlin: Arthur banished me Morgana: Sorry? Merlin: I’m banished from camelot...

Morgana didn’t know what to feel. She should be happy, merlin is banished from camelot! That’s what she wanted right? For Merlin to suffer?

Merlin: it’s fine though, I learned a lot, did you know the druids grows the best of fruits? Must be their connection with nature or something. Their grapes are divine-

Morgana couldn’t stop the ire rising from herself when she kicks him. Merlin immediately bends to touch his leg

Merlin: WHAT WAS THAT FOR?! Morgana: YOU’RE AN IDIOT MERLIN SON OF HUNNITH! Wow i know you’re an idiot but i can’t believe you’re THAT BIG of an idiot Merlin: What???? Morgana what are you even- Morgana: Should i chop Arthur’s manhood for what he did to you? Gosh, you’re probably still protecting camelot even in banishment aren’t you??? I know that’s you when morgouse sends the hydra on the castle….are you an IDIOT??? Why are you still chasing this guy?? I can’t even…i get that he’s hot, but really merlin? Why did you get banished anyway? was it the magic?? Or is he hates homosexual relationship? It’s the magic isn’t it…that bastard….

Morgana swears when she gets out, she will kill him, even with her own two hands-

Merlin: stop it morgana, i don’t want you to kill arthur! Morgana: Of course you’re going to say that! you lovesick fool! Merlin: Really? Do you want me to kill gwen because she stabbed you that one time?!

Morgana shuts up, merlin must be referring to that time when gwen is forced to stab her when she reigns the castle with morgause, she doesn’t like thinking about it

Morgana: (huffed) he shouldn’t banish you, not when you’re always by his side, and what do you get?

it’s stuff like this that made her truly hate camelot. Morgana could understand her banishment, but to banish merlin? Why didn’t anyone do anything? It truly made morgana sick to her stomach

Merlin: you know, banishment isn’t that bad…and i made choices…I deserved it

Before morgana can reply a guard enters their room, uncuffing them and dragging them outside their cell. They arrived at a different room, like that of an arena. But smaller this time. But only morgana and merlin stand in the middle of the room. The ringleader stands on a balcony

What happened on the last arena again? Right, only merlin and morgana were left standing, which means…

Ringleader: Merlin and Lady Morgana, once the pride and joy of Camelot, only to be banished by King Arthur himself. What a pity Merlin: If you think that I’m willing to help you to destroy camelot, count me out. My loyalties will always lie on king arthur Ringleader: Oh no no, I don’t want any of that. I don’t know how you ended up together as prison-mates but i did not expect the witch and emrys to be in my doorstep, inside the same cell nonetheless! Morgana: And? You want us to be your slaves? do you really think we’re willing to submit to you? Ringleader: don’t worry, i can think of ways to tame you

Morgana stomach jolted at the implication

Ringleader: Despite your…peerless reputation, you’re both are a headache for me to handle…so i just want one (sat on his make-shift throne) go ahead then, fight to the death! don’t you hate each-other?

Morgana looks at Merlin, and he looks at her. It’s true, Morgana had been wanting to kill Merlin for a long time but…

She doesn’t want to kill another one of her kind. And she doesn’t want to kill her friend

Ringleader: Come on! I’m waiting…

The shackles on their hand cracks, and Morgana felt her magic restored. They stare at each-other, circling. Is Merlin going to kill her now? Morgana saw how Merlin body is poised, ready to strike.

She strike first.

They danced around each-other, exchanging blows. The blow was sometimes deadly, other-times unnecessary spells. But they never land a fatal blow, even if morgana is panting, and merlin is out of breath

Morgana: …what’s wrong Merlin?…scared? Merlin: You wish (strike a spell that tore the fabric of her skirt) Morgana: (gasped) My dress! Merlin: …oops…

Morgana screams, sending a curse towards merlin. Morgana can’t believe it, it actually hits him, and for a moment merlin was confused, because nothing happened

Merlin: well that was anti-climactic (in a girl's voice, realization) morgana change me back right now! Morgana: No

she puts another curse on him, but he dodges it this time. It didn’t take long for merlin to tackle her, she fights back, trying to push him off and they fight like children.

Merlin: Get off me! (shrieking unladylike, his long nose (yes how ironic morgana is a genius) touching the ground) Morgana: You get off! (fights back, hair green. Fingers feels like rubber)

They rolled on each-other back, trying to murder the other until they gave up and just sprawled on the floor, too exhausted to do anything. If Morgana have to fire a spell one more time it feels like she’s going go throw up

Morgana: You’re pathetic Merlin Merlin: You’re even more pathetic Morgana: At least I’m stronger than you, you look like a twig Merlin: Well I’ll let you know that- Ringleader: ENOUGH

(they both look at him)

Ringleader: Just die already! I don’t care who dies! Just kill someone! If you don’t want to do it, then I’m going to kill the both of you! Morgana + Merlin: ….HAHAHAHAHHA Merlin: Did you hear that??? He says he’s going to kill us Morgana: ‘Just die already’ (still laughing even as she felt her hair is being pulled. She felt hands shoving her down, Merlin next to her) Ringleader: Do you have any final words? Morgana: (looks at Merlin) You’re not as worse as I thought Merlin: I’m glad to meet you too Morgana

When the axe about to fall down on their neck, the rooftop shake, and suddenly a dragon is screaming at them. Their assaulters ran, terrified of the beast.

Morgana: Aithusa!!

Merlin laughs beside her, chanting in a foreign language. Aithusa squeal and Morgana paused

Morgana: You’re also a dragonlord Merlin: Yeah not many people know that

Aithusa breathes fire, fending off their attacker

Morgana: merlin if you dare as to so much touches her- Merlin: Morgana, i birthed her Morgana: …??

Morgana had no time to argue when the ringleader is starting to ran to them. She quickly climbed onto her, when Morgana reaches out her hand for Merlin to grab but Merlin fell. Limbs grabbed by the ringleader

Morgana: MERLIN!

Aithusa is shrieking, trying to shield herself and Morgana from the fire. Merlin chants and Morgana felt Aithusa leaving

Morgana: Merlin? MERLIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Merlin: Goodbye Morgana Morgana: STOP!!

Morgana tries to reach him, but Aithusa keeps flying, away from the dungeon, away from Merlin

Episode ends

*

End notes: i rlly didn’t expect it to be this long. Anyways sorry if it didn’t made sense and the pacing is off, i’m really rambling here 😭 but this is how i think morgana merlin interaction should go

[itjazzbicch]

2 A.M.

Pairing:  Soft/Upset!Ichigo Kurosaki x Reader 

First time writing for Ichigo so I hope I did well! 

Summary: After saying some hurtful words during the heat of a battle, the reader and Ichigo's friendship is clearly affected by this, not seeing each other for days, when randomly, Ichigo come to talk in the middle of the night...

Warnings:  None! Just fluff

Word Count: 0.9k 

The rain in the night fell like sad tears, hearing the drops even while in the shower. Dead in the night, only the sound of water falling as I stood there, subconsciously washing away the soap that covered my body while I relived a painful memory in my head:

"You're just not strong, Y/N!"

"You're only in my way, so just disappear!"

I understood that everything Ichigo, our friends, and myself had been facing, Aizen and the Arrancars, was a matter of life or death, but all I wanted to do was use my powers to help.

I wasn't sure what the source of my power was, but I was no weakling and surely not a coward. Ichigo's strength was admirable. All of us looked at him as a ray of hope.

All I wanted was to help him, so he didn't have to carry such a heavy burden on his own, and that's what he screamed at me.

I haven't seen Ichigo since that day and they may have been just words, but they hurt my heart as if I could feel my heart-breaking piece by piece when those words replayed in my head.

Even after turning off the shower, water droplets were slowly falling on my feet. They were tears. No matter how hard I tried not to think about it, it was the only thing I could think about.

Like a zombie, I dried off and dressed for bed, tossing my towel into the hamper, making my way to my bed, and fixing my pillow. I was bound to have another restless night, wrapping myself with a blanket before I went to lay down and there were knocks on my door.

It was 2 a.m. Far too late for any guests to come, let alone on a rainy night.

With my luck, it'd be Chad or Uryu, wanting to go kill some hollows, but when I opened the door just enough to look with one eye, that bright, orange hair was my first sight, then Ichigo's big, brown eyes.

"Hey, Y/N," He only whispered, some pain in his voice as he spoke, but asked politely, "I know it's pretty late, but I can't sleep, and I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

I only nodded, leaving the door open for him to enter, scooting my feet back into my room, laying on my side with my back facing him as he followed.

"What do you want to talk about?" I sighed, curling up into my blanket.

He wasn't responding which only made me anxious, my heart racing, mixing with confusion as I felt his body weighing onto my bed, pupils expanding when his arms wrapped me into a tight embrace, able to hear the shakiness in his voice as he whispered:

"I'm sorry. For what I said. For everything."

I truly didn't know what to say, letting him allow his own emotions to be set free as his hold around me tightened, shaking slightly, even sniffling as he continued:

"I just-; I was so scared of losing you. I just didn't want you to get hurt. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you. It would be all my fault."

"Ichigo," I cooed softly, understanding where he was coming from, rolling carefully to face him, "I know that you don't want anyone, let alone the people you care about, to get hurt. Trust me, I get that because I'm the same way. But-"

Lifting his head, moonlight shimmering past his teary eyes, I had to look him in the eye, to make sure he knew:

"You don't have to do all of this alone."

Tears began rolling down his cheek as he listened to what I had to say, wiping it away and assuring him:

"I know you're strong. Stronger than anyone that I know. Sometimes, strong people need help too and there's nothing wrong with that."

As a response, all he could do was hug me, hugging me so tight and I made sure to return it. His words from before hurt, but I knew now, that he didn't mean it. I'd never even seen him cry before, so that showed how serious he was. All he wanted was to make sure I didn't get hurt by those Arrancars.

"Even by chance, if something did happen to me, that's alright, Ichigo," I whispered with my voice beginning to crack, meaning with all my heart, "You fight with your all to protect all of us. I'd do the same for you. Even if I died doing it. As long as you're okay, I'd die happy."

Now, we were both crying silently, clinging to each other and showing how we felt the same, eyes shut tight till I felt him pick up his head, hand holding my face.

His eyes were still closed, both lungs and brain not working when his lips came to mine, my own eyes closing tight to shake off the disbelief, pressing my lips a bit harder to feel how real this was, not showing it, but desperate for air when our lips parted, our eyes meeting in sequence as they opened at the same time.

"I just never want anything bad to happen to you," He whispered with a deep breath, knowing what he meant, "Never."

"I know," There was never a guarantee of making it out of this safe when the worst was yet to come, but something deep inside of me just knew that we'd all make it out alright, "Just trust me, Ichigo,"

Cuddling back to him, I took the chance to hold him instead, and he hugged me all the same, both of us able to relax for the first time in quite some time, placing a kiss on top of his head:

"We're going to make it out of this."