#just needed to put that venom 2 high somewhere

[fairytalesofthewind]

With Darkness comes Night III

Feysand x reader fic

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 (coming soon)

Warnings: vulgar language, speaking of death

The Night Court is in mourning for the High Lord’s son. The news had spread the same night Ember’s venom spread through Nyx’s body. No one was allowed to leave or join the camp in fear of another attack. No one was allowed in the High Lord and Lady’s cabin except for the healers they trusted and their Inner Circle. But all healers told them the same, that it was too late. The venom had already spread, and there was no antidote. 

Feyre and Rhys sat next to Nyx on the bed, wiping the sweat gathered on his forehead. Their hearts broke more, each time Nyx winced, cried and spasmed out of his pain. The wound, now stretching over his entire stomach, let out a sour odour. They had already opened the windows, and the cold breeze helped ground them. 

With their hearts in their throats, they all jumped up when they heard the door open. Helion walked in, with a heavy expression. He held a vial of Nyx’s blood in his hand, even from the other side of the room you could smell the venom in it. 

“My magic cannot help you with this, my friends.” Before he even finished speaking, most of the room had already fallen deeper into their grief. The sour air filled with the salty scent of their tears. 

“I feel like I must remind you of your only other option.” 

“Absolutely, not.” Growled Amren, she’d be damned if she let that wicked Keeper close to Nyx. 

Rhysand cleared his throat twice, failing to speak over the lump stuck in his throat. “Do it,” he said, “summon her.” Rhys did not understand how the Keeper was connected to all of this. Was she the one doing it? Or was she suffering just like they were? Rhysand could not ignore the grief he saw in her eyes, at both the monster's death and his son’s attack. 

This time it was Helion, who cleared his throat, albeit more uncomfortably. “She’s already here. I feel her presence somewhere close.” 

Amren stood up in anger, if she had her previous form, Helion was sure her eyes would be glowing out of ire. “Where is the fucking bitch? Azriel tell me. I know you sense her too.” 

“I’m right here.” A voice from somewhere said. They didn’t know whether it came from outside, inside, up or above them. The voice sounded far away, as if not even in this layer of reality. 

“My friend,” Helion started, holding his hand out, “please show yourself, we need your help.” 

You appeared as close to Helion and as far away from Amren as possible. You weren’t scared of her, but you feared that the idea of giving her some extra ‘sleepy time’ sounded very… quiet. 

Helion had already raised his hand to silence her. Surprisingly, Amren obeyed. The idea of Nyx dying truly changed them all. 

Feyre turned to you, her eyes wild and desperate. “Can you help him?” 

Amren scoffed, “She is the one who put him—,” 

“I did not bring harm to him.” You interrupted quickly. You turned to the High Lady and High Lord. “I would not break our treaty, truly.” 

Helion this time silenced Amren’s response with magic and led her out of the room. Leaving you with Rhys, Feyre and Azriel. Helion gave you an encouraging smile, softly but loudly heard. 

“What happened, Keeper? I don’t understand what is happening?” You sat next to Feyre, a hand on her shoulder. Your heart reacted heavily to the way her voice shook and you took a deep breath to ground yourself. 

“There is something happening to my children. It must be magic… or a curse. It makes them forget everything and attack everything. I have lost…,” You couldn’t keep speaking, your voice got stuck in your throat. 

“I lost five of my children. Five! Trust me, I am not behind this.” Feyre made a mournful sound next to you and laid her hand over yours on her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. 

“I believe you.” She said, and there was no place for the other two men to disagree with her. “We could help each other, I’m sure. One mother to another?” 

All of you looked at Nyx, struggling to stay alive. “It is not a matter of an antidote, I’m afraid.” And then you explained what needed to happen. 

You had created Ember from your magic, just like every mother did. Ember’s magic was yours, just like yours were his. He was created in the war, to protect the dark forests. His venom was poisonous to everyone, except to those made out of the same magic. His brothers and sisters were safe. You could make Nyx safe too, but not with an antidote. 

“So to save Nyx, you need to make him of your magic? Of you?”

”Nyx already has some of my magic, being a child of the darkness and starlight.” 

Rhysand looked disturbed, and you feared you would not get the permission to help Nyx. “Does that make me your child too?” 

You laughed and shook your head quickly. Luckily the others laughed with you too. It lightened the heavy atmosphere in the room. 

“No, Rhysand. You and I share magic, but you got your powers when you were born. Before I was created.” 

He looked at you sideways, and a small grin, even though it was lined with grief, adorned his lips. “So I’m older than you?”  

You chuckled once again. “My vessel is younger, yes. But my powers are ancient. I existed before time itself.” 

“What about me?” Asked the Shadowsinger softly. 

You thought back to the lonely boy, scared and hurt. “I helped make you, I suppose. I tried to help you, but the Fates didn’t allow me to do much.” You had wished you could have done more. Especially after you had made him a Shadowsinger, you had felt a deep connection. You could not bear how he suffered, but you were not allowed to do anything. 

“You did help me, in a way. Will the fates allow you to help Nyx?” You needed to give him more than some sort of power, you needed to save him. 

“That depends on what Feyre and Rhysand decide.” 

One look was shared. “Whatever you need to do, do it.” They answered, before they truly thought about what it could mean, about what could happen. Suddenly, Rhysand panicked and thought about Amren’s distrust towards you. 

“Does this mean he has to live in the forest?” Rhysand asked, “I will admit, Nyx is a very spoiled prince, he won’t survive in there.” 

You chuckled once again, but this time alone. Did they truly think you were that evil? That you would steal their child? 

“No.” You answered firmly. “But I will have to visit once in a while.” Otherwise, Nyx would suffer from his powers, he would need to be connected closely to you. 

A sigh of relief echoed throughout the room. “I suppose we’ll be seeing each other a lot anyway.” Said Feyre, her tone was calm and collected, but there was still panic and worry in her eyes. 

When you gave her a confused look, she explained herself. “To heal our lands of this plague, before it spreads even more.” 

You didn’t want to think about it. The thought of possibly losing another child because of this plague might be your undoing. 

You sat closer to Nyx, and wiped the sweat off his brow. You asked his parents if they were ready, because it was not only Nyx who would feel the shift in his being. You received a firm ‘yes’, and you didn’t hesitate to start one of the most beautiful processes your powers granted you. 

“There,” you said after a while. “He’ll wake up soon, feeling better.” You felt an immense need to stay, but you did not feel welcome to. So you stood up, with a heavy, but relieved heart. 

A hand stopped you, and hope blossomed.

 “Thank you.” Rhysand said, but the dismissal was clear. 

You nodded and walked your way to the door, but was stopped when it opened suddenly. 

In front of you stood the General. Cassian went through many emotions, but eventually stuck with surprise. 

“Y/n?”

Taglist: thank you all (!!)

@starryhiraeth @cupidojenphrodite and thank you @esposadomd you motivated me :)

#acotar #rhysand #feyre #acowar #acofas #feysand #nyx archeron #acotar fanfiction #x reader #acotar x reader #amren

[bananabeebenson]

I Can ALSO Fix Him

tSim

I would like to state a very needed disclaimer at this point; I do not tend to learn my lesson. My dating history would prove that, therefore I have returned to haunt the tumblr feed of whoever may see this with my ever growing familiar statement; I can fix him.

Or, in this case, I can ALSO fix him.

Now, I have stated my plans to fix another criminal in the past, as stated here. How successful those ideas still stand to be tested, but I am here once again to bring to light that there is someone else on the list of ‘not-so-good-people’ I am willing to fix.

Crocodile. Sir Crocodile.

And I’m here to say, I can ALSO fix him.

Similar to that of Doflamingo, Crocodile is not a very good man. A smart man, oh sure. A brilliant man even for the plans he put in motion. An unlucky man as well, for his timing, and also a lucky man as well, for his timing yet again. But he is not someone who would eagerly take me on a date at the first bouquet of flowers dropped on his very expensive shoes. No, he is somehting of class; something that would take a little bit of convincing to fix him.

Attempt 1: A Vacation

Okay, it sounds simple enough, maybe even too simple to most, but everyone has to know this man has never had a vacation in his life. For as much as we know, he has been fighting to survive since day one and never once had he had an actual break. Every day spent in Alabasta  was a day dedicated to achieving his goals. Even in that casino with all that money and all that time, I doubt he ever thought to lay out and catch a nice tan while taking over a country.

So, perhaps he would like to go somewhere tropical. Nice, windy beach with those expensive drinks and fancy straws to sip on. Maybe he’d like to go on a hiking trip through the mountains somewhere, camping out each night and ‘roughing’ it up.

Or, in all honesty, just put this man in a hotel somewhere far away and tell him to not work for the weekend at least. Then maybe forever.

Attempt 2: A Massage

This could tie in with the first (and is totally not an excuse to put my hands on him) but this man is knotted all the way up. Considering his Devil Fruit and the lack of people he would trust to touch him that intimately, I have high doubts he has ever had a massage. Hell, I doubt he’s had much human interaction outside of possible physical violence on another person.

Therefore, you get this man to slide off his coat and even just lean forward enough so you can start working those shoulders, you might just take enough tension off of him that he would entirely forget about wanting to take over any countries or kill old people that scarred his face up. A full body massage and this man might just fall to pieces on you.

Attempt 3: Kisses?

Just...like kiss the man? His lips are probably chapped, and his skin might not be so smooth if he keeps up his sandy texture, but he definitely needs a kiss. A forehead kiss, a cheek kiss, a neck kiss. Hell, kiss his hand and make him feel like a king. Give this man all the affection he could have with your lips and that might just be a distraction enough that he would forget he’s supposed to be evil. Is he misbehaving and threatening more crimes that should make you dislike him? Forehead kiss. Solves all the problems.

Attempt 4: Get Him Nicer Pets

The Bananagators are cool. They’re great, even, but they just scream ‘evil’. You know what doesn’t scream evil? A gecko. A ferret. Anything but the giant, menacing creatures that he actively uses to devour other people. Get this man a small animal (preferably non-venomous and also small enough that they can’t eat people) and make him care for it. Get him something high-maintenance that will require all of his attention and he has no time to be evil. Simple yet effective.

Attempt 5: F U C K H I M 

See a pattern yet?

All these villainous people are pent up. They have issues, they’re angry, and they’re not shagging up in the way they need to be. So, take off your pants and put this man through the ringer. I’m talking like sap this man of any ounce of energy he has by riding him into oblivion and make sure there’s not a single functioning brain cell in that mind to even imagine being evil again. Oh, he probably has stamina, but you can get creative. Wring him out like a wet towlette until he has only drops to give and keep wringing.

In Conclusion

I swear I can ALSO fix him.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x y/n #i can fix him

[life-in-the-monster-haus]

Monster High the Movie Review Part 7

Spoilers ahead!

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I have mixed feelings about how Dracula looks. On one hand I like that he looks nothing like Draculaura. G2 really screwed this up with their version of Drac because he looks like her Biological father and Dracuaura is supposed to be adopted. G2 never elaborated on this (thank the dark lord) but OG Draculaura was adopted & renamed by Dracula. I HOPE him being White and Draculaura being Asian means they have decided to go back to her being adopted... then again her mother could just be Filipina, kids has 2 parents after all. But on the other hand he also looks like a very generic vampire, like the guy who models Dracula Halloween costumes at party city. In fact he looks a lot like Lord Stoker who doesn't have any relation to Draculaura at all (He is Elissabat's Uncle) so I'm not in love with his design, but it's fine. I like his grey skin and pointy eye brows, the actor is also giving his all.

Not only is witchcraft taboo in general for monsters. Apparently Vampires and Witches are enemies in this universe?... Which one is it? Are witches just magical humans or are they other monsters? or are Vampires just out here beefing with humans like that's a fair fight? Pick a lane movie.

The costume department nails it once again! These outfits are so in character! it's nice to know there were Monster High fans somewhere on the team because for awhile there it didn't feel like. But I have those exact skinny jeans Frankie is wearing they are a hot topic exclusive.

I enjoy the red eye make up on Deuce, it makes his brilliant green eyes stand out even more... but it also kinda makes him look like a meth head... you gotta take the bad with the good I suppose. also: peep that spider cookie! all the goodies from the coffin bean look delicious!

People are really mad that Clawdeen and Deuce get all flirty but it doesn't bother me because I'm pretty confident Mattel is not going to sink it's flagship couple. Here's my prediction: This movie does well and gets the Disney Descendants treatment, Because this movie is so painfully obviously trying to be Disney Descendants, let's say it gets 3 movies which seems to be industry standard for these things. That is time for character growth, Mattel does not want to play all of it's cards at once so I am certain that over time Cleo- much like her animated counterpart will become a nicer and kinder person as time goes on. Once she cleans up her act, Deuce will return to her, proud that his Egyptian princess has grown. I really don't think Mattel will keep them apart for too long or pair him up with anybody... However, I heard a rumor that he is getting a doll 2 pack with Frankie so... anything can happen. only time will tell!

ANYWAYS... our trio needs ingredients for a potion and one of those ingredients is snake venom... I wonder how she's going to try to get it.

But look at the rainy gloomy background! A+++

Oh look! Clawdeen is trying to get snake venom from Deuces snakes, but instead of asking him she's trying to be sneaky. This makes it impossible to concentrate on Deuce's song but he really is pouring his heart out. Case Walker is killing it! I am not familiar with his body of work but he has some pipes! I checked his insta and the dude rock climbs with his bare hands. Now I'm extra mad they didn't put Deuce in his skater boy outfit, it shows off the gun show! He is also the one hitting on Clawdeen she was just there to get the venom but I can see his honesty is chirping through her walls! This makes Clawdeen feel guilty for trying to get the venom through dishonest means and she asks his permission. He obliges .... because he likes her.

Draculaura repeats what I just said.

Ghoulia pops out of the grave to repeat what Draculaura just said. which was pretty funny. I'm glad they kept Ghoulia's nature to troll.

7/?

#Monster High #Monster high movie

[edwardgdunn]

The Masks We Wear – In Two Acts

Act 1

I walked into the gleaming glass high-rise on 44th Street in Manhattan and grabbed the elevator to the 82 floor. I was shown into a conference room by the receptionist. Seated around a black walnut table that probably had its own zip code were six men. “Keep your seats gentlemen,” I said. They ignored me and the obligatory glad handing began. Every last one of them were dressed in Armani suits and Italian shoes with names I could not, nor wanted to know how to pronounce. I did, however, chuckle to myself when I noticed that apparently none of them would be caught dead wearing the watch of the commoner, a Rolex. It was all Patek Phillipe, Piaget, and Cartier. The whole scene was a study in ego run amok. The only man in the room who didn’t look like a peacock in a hoot dash was my business partner and life-long friend, McKenna Chevalier (Mac) who had traveled with me.

I was there to perform due diligence on their company. If the process went well, Mac and I were considering investing a substantial sum of money to help them expand their operations nationwide. During the several hour meeting, the men were friendly, exceedingly polite, and accommodating to a fault. Of course they were. They needed money. I had access to it.

We wrapped up the first of three days of scheduled meetings. The CEO suggested we make the short 4-block walk to his favorite watering hole and restaurant. Off we went – Mac, me, the peacocks.

Act 2

A stylish and beautiful young woman greeted everyone warmly, most by name. She led us to a private dining room and the tuxedo clad waiters were hovering within seconds. Then the manager appeared.

“Good evening gentlemen, may I start you off with cocktails?”

“Everyone good with bourbon?” the CEO asked. We all nodded our approval. The waiter returned a few short minutes later looking distressed.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Ellery,” he said. I’m afraid we are out of Michter’s, sir. Could I perhaps offer you something different?” Anger flashed across Ellery’s privileged face.

“Are you kidding me? Seriously? John, you knew damn well we would be here tonight – with guests. I know this because my girl told me she confirmed the reservation this afternoon. And now you want to feed us some cheap ass, gut-rot whiskey. Bullshit.”

“I’m so sorry sir. We had plenty of Michter’s on hand earlier but a large table at lunch made short work of all of it.”

“I don’t give a flying f**k. Why didn’t you carry your ass to wherever you get that sh!t and get more? Jesus, I guess it really is true, you just can’t get good help these days.”

“Again, I am so sorry Mr. Ellery. Please allow me to compensate for my mistake on your bill. We’ll do better next time,” the manager said.

“Next time? Fat chance! Just bring us some damn menus. We’ll do our drinking elsewhere. Somewhere that has competent staff.”

“Yes sir, right away.”

The shattering difference in how this man had treated me and McKenna just a half hour earlier and the venom he spewed at the restaurant manager was abominable. That’s putting it politely. I looked at Mac, saw the agreement etched all over his face, neatly folded my napkin, and said,

“Gentlemen, I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure.” Mac and I left the restaurant, grabbed a cab, and headed out into the city to find a couple of slices of New York pizza and beer. The would be no investment.

Looking back at it now with a bit more perspective, the whole affair was a textbook study in roles. We all play roles. If you have some modicum of self-awareness, you will sense it in yourself daily. We slip into and out of roles as deftly and easily as we breathe. We are one character with friends, another with customers, another with a boss, and yet another with a lover or spouse. There is nothing inherently wrong with this.

Where we run into trouble is when we don’t realize that all of these roles are inauthentic in some way. Our interactions are not between authentic people but between the roles we are playing. We build mental constructs based on comparisons. Am I better than him? Is she better than me? Everyone is doing it all the time and all have agreed to the rules of the game. It leaves us with the stark reality that there is no real relationship taking place, there are only the fictions playing out in short, two act plays. The playwrights craft their scripts such that they get what they want. Everything is transactional. Everything is a means to an end.

While not easy, we can all strive to give up defining ourselves through comparison to others. Just as well, we can become wholly (or at least mostly) unconcerned with how others define us. When we dial back the roles and begin living authentically, we come alive. This is where we are at absolute our best. This is when we are at peace.

This is when we are happy.

Check out the Happiness 2.0 Podcast — https://podcast.edwardgdunn.com/

Happiness 2.0 Blog — https://edwardgdunn.com/blog

#authenticliving #roleplaying #corporateculture #ManhattanLife #business meeting

[alyjojo]

Love Reading 😍 - May 2023 - Taurus

Singles:

Overall energy: Knight of Wands

How you will meet: 6 Wands

How they will treat you: 5 Swords

Long-term Potential: 3 Pentacles

Oracle:

C’mon inner peace. I don’t have all day.

You probably work with this person, because it’s such a slow burner, I don’t know how else you’d meet them. You’ve probably known them for awhile, casually, maybe as friends. On the surface you see someone reliable, kinda exciting, impulsive, fun to be around and you can count on them. Until they open their mouth. This person starts arguing and venom sprays on everyone they’re in contact with, it’s toxic. Initially, you’re excited to go out with this person, you feel great. That’s because you don’t know what’s going on behind the fog, with The Moon & Page of Swords, there’s no clarity in their communication and you’re still learning about them, you don’t really know them. Surface level stuff, hobbies, things like that, that’s what they talk about. Not the deep stuff. How they treat you…5 Swords. Total asshole, “superior” mind games and fkery. They think they’re above you, and probably everyone else too. Condescending comes up on your side, so I see it happening pretty early on and you’re out of there, no thanks. You look down on them too. Long term, you still work or interact together & don’t have much choice, but you’re extremely defensive around this person and know they are a jerk. Lesson learned.

Messages -

Their side:

- My heart wasn’t truly in this.

- I can’t change.

Your side:

- I’m happy where I am.

- Condescending

Signs you may be dealing with:

Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Leo & Aquarius

Couples:

Overall energy: Ace of Wands

Current: The Hermit & 4 Cups

Challenge: The Star

How they feel about you: The High Priestess

How you feel about them: 4 Wands

Outcome: 2 Swords & The Chariot

There is a lull in your sex drive, probably because there is a lull in your brain this month. No offense. Mercury is retrograde in your sign for half of the month, and there’s a shadow period afterwards, so don’t beat yourself up over feeling foggy & out of it. You both are constantly thinking about the same thing, but no action is happening. You’re bored. It could be the routine of it, or late hours and you guys are tired and just don’t, whatever the case, neither of you are thrilled about it, but neither of you step forward to change it either. It’s just MEH. Maybe how they approach you is the same old same old, it happens. The fire has all but died this month, but because of the retrograde I wouldn’t be too concerned. There’s a Uranus/Jupiter conjunction in your sign later in May, that will likely put some pep back in your step.

You see your person as someone completely stable that you have 10 Pentacles with, or maybe they’re someone important at their job and you recognize that. Both of you may be overworked and just tired. They see you as eerily quiet, working hard, and not talking to them much, which worries them. They wonder if you’re hiding something, especially in regards to work, they want to know what you’re up to, how you’re feeling. And you’re just giving them silence, routine, or the same thing day in and day out, back. Even though that drives you nuts. Something needs shaking up in this connection! By the end of the month, you want to plan something but don’t know how, or maybe you don’t know how to start this conversation which may be touchy for your person…if they’re kinda closed minded or vanilla about intimate sort of things, that would explain it. You’d like to expand their horizons a bit & do something more exciting. This could include traveling somewhere or just getting away from where you are, literally. You’re bored. But…that’s all 🤷‍♀️

Messages -

Their side:

- I crave your body.

- Soothing Presence 😌

Your side:

- I have to figure out what I want.

- I think about SEX with you all the TIME.

Oracles -

I’m in an OFFLINE state of mind.

Their side:

If nothing is moving in your life, you’re in a desert period. Use this time to perfect your patience. Things will get better soon.

Your side:

Animals are the most perfect of God’s creations and deserve your unconditional love.

Be adventurous. Do something exciting to keep your spark alive.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Virgo 💯 Cancer, Aquarius & Pisces

#taurus tarot reading #may 2023 #singles reading #couples reading #love reading #Taurus #tarot #free reading #tarotblr

[amiracleilluminated]

just couple things :)

#usermichi #bluevii #venom #venomedit #thardyedit #*gifs #ye i don't know either #just needed to put that venom 2 high somewhere

[butwhyduh]

Last night thing

Jason todd x reader

Summary: he stopped you from stealing a $25,000 watch but missed something else. Part 2 to Late night Thing.

Warning: kidnap, fighting, smut

As Jason pulled up his pants and contemplated his life choices of sleeping with a beautiful thief on a rooftop, he came to a conclusion. You stole his damn tie clip. He had said that he would break your hand if you tried to steal it and dammit, you had. Somehow it simultaneously made him mad and horny. How the fuck had you managed that?

Jason knew that he wouldn’t find you that night. So he went back to his safe house to lick his wounded pride and plan his next move. He needed to get that clip back. It was a gift from Alfred and he would literally kill for it. Though he seriously doubted that he’d need to do that. And Jason would never admit it but he didn’t want to kill you.

He planned to find you sometime during the next week. His tie clip was expensive but not extraordinarily expensive but you had to find someway to sell it without him finding it, which would take time. Jason just didn’t know that it would be the next day that he would find you.

He heard that Bane was throwing his weight around in the drug trade for some damn reason. Wasn’t his venom addition enough for one man? So Jason was snooping around, or investigating as the bats liked to say. He fully expected a boring night of listening in a warehouse for hours and learning very little but instead almost fell through the glass at the sight before him.

You were strapped to a chair with rope. The pretty dress you wore the night before was in tatters but you were covered. Your eyes were red and your nose had dried blood underneath it. You were shivering like a leaf.

“I’m not here to negotiate with you. I’m here for Cat Woman. You are her child and she will come or you will die,” Bane said casually. You gasped.

“She’s going to be mad. Why would she work with you after this?” You asked, braver than you felt. He turned and coldly looked at you before stalking over. His giant fingers wrapped around your throat and you thrashed in the chair.

Jason stood up and moved to jump into the fight despite the fact that he really didn’t want to fight the brute. But Bane let you go and you audibly gasped and sucked air through open lips. You trembled and heaved.

“If she does not care about you, I will move on to her next kitten,” he said and you gulped. You didn’t know if she would save you. Jason looked through the room for a strategy. 2 exits and the skylight he currently looked through. 3 goons that he could easily take out. Oh, and a 300 pound juiced up super soldier. That broke Batman’s back years ago. Fuck.

“Let me go and I’ll do anything you want,” you said and even Jason up high in the rafters could hear the waver in your voice. Bane turned and stared at you and your mind almost couldn’t comprehend the massive size of him. He was easily half a foot taller than Red Hood and almost 100 pounds heavily and Red Hood towered over you.

“What could I possible want from you,” he asked with an icy curiosity. He was watching you for a reaction. You wanted to shrink away but that would be a failure.

“Anything you could want. Information,” you suggested. “About Gotham.”

“I have my sources.”

“Uhhh,” you breathed. “Gems? Money?” He shook his head. Your heart hammered in your chest. He was a man, right? You could sell that maybe? “Me?” You breathed.

He laughed before looking you up and down. “I do not want you carnally, child,” he said. You almost sagged in relief and Jason’s hand released the gun he didn’t know he was holding. “No. We will wait for Cat Woman and if she doesn’t come in 2 days, you are dead.”

You hummed in fear. Bane sat crossed legged and closed his eyes. He threatened to kill you and then fucking meditated. You helplessly pulled at the ropes on your wrists.

Jason tried to piece together how you got there and how to get you out. He knew that he couldn’t exactly call Bruce. ‘Hey dad, do you want to fight the guy who broke your back over a thief he has tied up. Why? I don’t know! I just like fucking her on rooftops!’ Never saying that.

Nope. Instead he would attempt stealth. Against one of the best trained fighters in the world for a woman that robbed him. Yea, maybe Jason should have stayed 6 feet under because he’s a fucking idiot. He sighed before slowly moving towards them. Bane was sitting cross legged with his eyes closed in a meditation back to you.

You suddenly saw Jason out the corner of your eyes and your eyes widened before going back to normal. Bane didn’t seem to notice the slight change in your breathing. Jason snuck over to untie you. He slowly pulled the rope from around your wrists and you were almost completely untied when the end of the rope barely grazed the ground.

Bane snapped his head around as Jason drew his guns. You gasped as Bane launched himself towards Jason. You ripped your hand out of the rope as bullets flew. You scrambled to the floor but was quickly pulled up by the giant man. He clutched you by the shoulder and you whimpered in pain. Jason suddenly froze.

“This is far more interesting that I first thought. I looked for a cat and found a bat,” he laughed. You squirmed in pain. He sat you down but the hand stayed on your shoulder.

“She’s not important. Let her go,” Jason said. The metallic voice from his helmet sounded bored.

“If she is unimportant, she is better off dead,” he said roughly pulling you in his arms and one hand gently wrapped around your throat but didn’t tighten it. You grabbed at his fingers and sobbed pathetically. Your eyes were wide and terror was plain on your face.

“Let’s not. Put the lady down and we can talk,” Jason said and it was weird to see Red Hood negotiating. He was usually the muscle in the situation. It really showed you how fucked you really were.

“Okay I’m intrigued. I will hear your proposal,” he said sitting you down. You scampered behind Jason. Your whole body trembled.

“I know Gotham underground better than you ever will. Sorry but you’re scary as shit but not in a good way,” he said with a shrug. If you didn’t know any better, he seemed casual. “I can get you the venom you need. No cost for a while.”

“How long,” Bane asked. He was the kind so get all the facts before proceeding. He also had the weakness of being completely addicted to venom.

“A months worth.”

“6 months.”

“3 months.”

“Deal. If you break this deal I will crush her windpipe with my hand,” he said with no emotion. It was a promise, not a threat. Jason felt you move closer to him.

“Deal,” Jason agreed. Bane moved closer and you clung to Jason. You were clinging to Red Hood. How pathetic. Jason stood taller and stared at Bane. They shook hands.

Suddenly Bane slapped Jason violently across the face and you yelped. Jason went to the ground but quickly got up to a defensive crouch. You jumped in front of him with your heart beating so fast you would soon faint.

“For invading my space and my business,” Bane said before walking away. “Leave.” He didn’t turn to watch.

You noticed a little crack in the Red Hood helmet. How hard did Bane hit him? Jason stood up and pulled you out of the warehouse with him. He quickly grabbed you and shot his grappling hook out of the area. About half a mile away, he landed on a building. You clung to him and trembled.

“Hey, you’re safe,” he said. “You can let go.”

You pulled off but shivered like a leaf.

“Shit, you’re cold. Here. Here,” he wrapped his jacket around you and it helped your temperature but not your shivering. “Come here,” he pulled you in his arms and you clung. His heartbeat felt reassuring and he awkwardly patted your hair. You could tell Jason wasn’t used to providing comfort.

“He- he,” you started but stopped. “Can we go somewhere safe?”

“Come on downstairs. This is my place,” he said and you nodded. You followed him inside and it was far warmer but you couldn’t stop the shaking. His jacket was replaced by a blanket and Jason sat you on the couch. The helmet came off but domino stayed on. You practically climbed on his lap to be closer. Your eyes were still wide with horror.

You’d been arrested, harassed, even shot at. But never kidnapped like that. And by the giant Bane at that. Jason could feel the fear and adrenaline coming off of you. He rubbed your back softly. You looked up at him suddenly after a few minutes.

“You saved my life. You put yours in danger to save mine,” you breathed. He shrugged, a little uncomfortable under your gaze. “Thank you,” you added.

“Uh you’re welcome. It’s no biggie.”

“Yes it is,” you said before kissing him. Your pace was dizzying and rough. Jason was in shock at first. Your hands roamed his body before dropped down to his belt and he almost jolted up.

“Not today,” he said, stopping your hand. “I mean, normally I’d love to but not now. Give it a few days.”

“Why?” You said with your voice all breathy. Your lips were swollen and eyes dark and he almost gave in.

“You were just kidnapped. You need sleep. Not sex,” he said sliding away from you. “Are you hungry?”

“Wh- you don’t think I could want you?”

“I’m not in the mood. Almost getting killed by Bane really kills the urge,” he lied. If he thought you were in your right mind, he would have fucked you on the rooftop or against the first surface he found. You jumped in front of Bane for him. He found it all incredibly hot. “You need a shower anyways.”

It was cold and cruel but better than sleeping with a traumatized woman. You shook and nodded before using his shower. Jason felt twinges of guilt but ignored them. He knew it was better this way.

You came in nothing but his t shirt that hung like a dress. “Nothing else fit,” you said awkwardly. He could see the scars that covered your legs and bruises around your throat.

“We can lay in bed,” Jason said just as awkwardly. He might know what to do with a woman who wants to fuck him but not just one sleeping over. “For sleeping.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t try anything,” you said with a little smile and he smiled back. You both laid in the bed and it wasn’t long until you pressed your back against his chest and pulled his arms around you. He was strong and safe. You managed to sleep all night with the anticipated nightmares. They had time later to come up. When you weren’t cradled in his arms.

The next morning you woke up warm. The rise and fall of his chest was comforting. His hand held your waist loosely and you could seriously just stay in this moment. But as soon as you moved, you almost giggled like a teenager. He was hard and pressed against your ass.

“Ignore that,” he mumbled.

“Okay... how?” You said after a few seconds. “Because it’s pretty unforgettable for the man I like to sleep with to have his hard dick pressed against my ass. Have to say.”

“We only did it once in a rooftop. Was it that unforgettable?” He said and you could hear the smirk he wore.

“It was alright,” you said playfully but you couldn’t help but press back into him. Jason grabbed your hip to stop you.

“Trying to get me horny?”

“I think you already are.”

“That’s true,” he said before grinding against your ass. You pushed back to do your own rubbing. “And you’re not even wearing any panties,” he said bunching up the fabric of his shirt you wore. He slapped your ass soundly and you gasped.

“What was that for?”

“My tie clip. I hope you still have it,” he said before slapping your ass again. You reached behind you to grasp his cock through his sweatpants.

“I’ll get it back to you,” you said. His pants were pushed down. Jason hummed and rubbed his dick between your thighs. You sighed at the sensation and arched your back so he was sliding between your folds instead.

“You’d better,” he growled but it had no true heat. Not when he was so close to finally fucking you and had his lips leaving little marks on your shoulder and neck. You tried to press back onto him but he stopped your hips.

“Do you deserve it,” he asked running a finger along your hip, every once in a while dipping between your thighs to barely touch your clit. You jumped and grabbed at his wrist to hold him there but he just chuckled and moved away from where you needed him. His thrusting between your folds felt amazing but not enough and he was purposefully avoiding sliding in your hole. Jason quite liked the way your body panted and curved in desperation.

Finally feeling that you had been tortured enough, and he wanted in your wet heat, he pressed his hips forward and filled you. You whimpered and leaned your head back against him.

“Yes,” you breathed. Jason took his time slowly thrusting, letting you fill his full length. His free hand moved from pinching your nipple to circling your clit. You were practically clenching him from the start and he loved it. You were so receptive.

It didn’t take long for him to find a pattern that just got you a little more vocal and focused on that. “God, you’re fucking wet,” he breathed in your ear and you whimpered. You seemed to like what he had to say.

“Taking me so well. Acting like such a good girl,” he said and you breathed out a “Hood” in response. Oh yeah, you didn’t even know the name of the man that you let fuck you. You trusted him enough to sleep in his bed and you’d never even seen his eyes.

His finger circling your clit and cock angled to drag along your g spot had you seeing stars as you came around him. Jason grunted and held your hips tight before quickly pulling out to cum on your ass. He looked as the pretty white beads covered your skin. He wasn’t forgetting that image any time soon. He reached for a towel to clean you up.

Afterwards you turned in his arms and kissed him soundly before lying your head on his chest. You reached up to play with his hair with a little smile on your face. Jason could get used to this. As soon as he thought it, he had the urge to jump up and kick you out. He didn’t do permanent. You were just having fun.

“I need a shower,” he said roughly, getting up. Jason couldn’t help but notice the disappointment on your face that you quickly hid.

“I should get going before my walk of shame gets any later,” you said with an awkward laugh.

“Borough anything you need,” he said before disappearing into his bathroom. While in the shower he had time to think. Yeah, I’m totally not broken to be cool with fucking a woman but not being able to hold her. Not a sign of being fucked up at all, Jason thought. Probably got that from Bruce. Though my real dad probably did it too.

He came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and immediately saw a note on the bed.

Had fun, Hood. We should do it again sometimes, (your number)

💕 Kitten

His tie clip was set underneath it. Jason smiled. Okay, this could be fun. He was young and sowing wild oats or whatever, right?

There was no way this could go wrong, right?

#friday night smut #jason todd x reader #Jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood smut #batboy x reader #Jason todd x thief!reader #red hood x kitten

[kim-poce]

Bloodbag Neo and Celeste

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14

CW: pet whump, burns

So Tobias fucked up.

It was one thing to describe those kind of injuries to vampires. They were intimately familiar with blood and injuries; it was kind of a requirement of the species. And he was a PI; he'd seen more than his fair share of shit.

What he didn't take into account was how the boy would react.

Honestly, he couldn't even say what he was thinking. Probably because I wasn't, he thought ruefully. Maybe he had the idea somewhere in his head that as a pet bloodbag, he would be desensitized to this kind of thing.

Which was 1) stupid, and 2) very obviously wrong. The boy had gotten steadily more terrified as Tobias talked, which he would have noticed if he had bothered to look. The boy being scared just made the vampires angrier (and wasn't that interesting, that kind of protective anger over their pet), and then Alex lost control of his strength and broke the pot of soup.

Which spilled over him and the boy both.

The boy was letting out little shocked gasps, probably all the noise he allowed himself to make. And Alex and Evelyn were fighting over... who would heal the boy? Another thing to file away and think over later.

It was when Evelyn raised a dishcloth to wipe at the burns that Tobias knew he had to intervene. As the only other human in the room, he was probably the most qualified in non-vampire-related healing.

"Woah, hey, don't rub at the burns," he said.

Evelyn glared at him. Tobias was rather glad he hadn't eaten or drank anything in a while; if he had, he might have been in need of clean pants at the moment. But this wasn't about him; this was about the boy, and the fuck-up that Tobias had to do his best to mitigate. He forced himself to continue.

"Run cool water over them first," he said. "It pulls the heat out and flushes the wound of anything in it."

He eyed the boy, and the location of the burns. Arm and shoulder... those could probably both be treated in the kitchen sink, rather than having to resort to a shower. If the kid leaned over the counter, or if the Forteries didn't mind Tobias making more of a mess of their floor, he could use the extendable spray nozzle from the sink to reach the burns.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to the sink.

He was painfully aware of just how precarious his current situation was. He could at least try to not make it worse.

Next

Crossovers - Masterlist

CW: drugs (vampire's venom).

=-=-=-=-=

Alex was feeling more useless by the time. If only he could drink human blood. If only he could heal the boy himself. If only he was stronger. If-

"May I?" Tobias asked, gesturing to the sink.

"You are hurt, you are only going to make a mess," Alex sounded more angry than he wanted to show, but even if he was at fault for breaking the damn pan, Tobias still had scared the boy with his description of torture. "I'll do it myself."

"No," Evelyn declared, still glaring at Tobias, who just now seemed to notice how thin was the thread his life is hanging on, "Give me your hand."

Tobias' face went pale, and Alex hadn't to think much to guess why, Evelyn was putting him in place, and she obviously had done it before. Tobias was hesitant to agree, but after everything, he would truly die if he tried to refuse.

He groaned out when Evelyn pulled him closer by his already broken arm, "Be quiet," she said before sinking her fangs into his neck, too fast for him to do anything about it.

She didn't drink blood –not that she bothered on telling him– she only used her venom as a painkiller, not enough to get him high or out of it but enough to make the pain more bearable.

"Now get over it," she ordered, letting him go and gesturing to the sink.

=-=-=-=-=

@neverthelass, @latenightcupsofcoffee, @rose-pinkie

#Bloodbag!Neo and Celeste #Bloodbag!Neo AU #whump #pet whump #burns #bloodbag whumpee #vampire caretaker #nonhuman caretaker #non human caretaker #Evelyn's way to say ''next time shut the fuck up''

[kingandfireheart]

The Lady of the Autumn Court: what the fuck is happening in Autumn (part 2)

As I said in my Eris Vanserra post, it seems that the Lady of the Autumn Court is a bigger piece to the Eris and Lucien puzzles.

We don't know what the fuck has been happening in the Forest House but we do the following:

The Lady of the Autumn Court is/was extremely powerful

Lucien (and to some extent Eris) are mama's boys (even though Lucien has been exiled for centuries)

The Lady met Helion before she was married to Beron

At least one of the seven brothers - Lucien - is Helion's child, but Helion saved the Lady after she had already had some kids (so Eris probably isn't his, even though they both have amber eyes)

The Lady chose to stay with Beron

Beron is aware of the affair between Helion and the Lady

Beron is physically abusive towards the Lady and had tortured Eris

Helion does not know Lucien is his heir, but Eris seems to know Lucien isn't Beron's son

Things that aren't mentioned below the cut, but are interesting:

Eris is the ringleader of the brothers, the commander of Beron's forces, and is Beron's most trusted son (the other three don't even have names)

In ACOWAR, Eris says has never denied Beron anything - except to save Lucien - but is angling for the throne and betraying him in ACOFAS and ACOSF (this reminds me of Lorcan betraying Maeve for her own good in TOG)

Beron wanted to kill Lucien for wanting to leave Autumn and marry Jesminda (this doesn't seem like a good reason if he isn't in line for the throne - or isn't part of their bloodline, but I guess Beron doesn't need a reason to be cruel)

Helion alludes to having trouble at home in ACOSF

The remaining unnamed brothers are all angling for the throne (this reminds me of the Khaganate in TOG and the Cruel Prince)

I got a little carried away with the color coding, but here's every major scene involving and discussing the Lady of the Autumn Court (and some breadcrumbs because I'm convinced SJM is purposeful in her writing)

Rhysand uses the Lady of the Autumn Court taunt Lucien in ACOTAR:

Rhysand’s venom-coated smile grew. “You draw blood from me, Lucien, and you’ll learn how quickly Amarantha’s whore can make the entire Autumn Court bleed. Especially its darling Lady.” The color leached from Lucien’s face, but he held his ground. It was Tamlin who answered. “Put your sword down, Lucien.” Rhysand ran an eye over me. “I knew you liked to stoop low with your lovers, Lucien, but I never thought you’d actually dabble with mortal trash.” My face burned. Lucien was trembling—with rage or fear or sorrow, I couldn’t tell. “The Lady of the Autumn Court will be grieved indeed when she hears of her youngest son. If I were you, I’d keep your new pet well away from your father.”

The Lady of the Autumn Court also helps Feyre with one of her tasks:

A door clicked open somewhere down the hall, and I shot to my feet. An auburn head peered at me. I sagged with relief. Lucien— Not Lucien. The face that turned toward me was female—and unmasked. She looked perhaps a bit older than Amarantha, but her porcelain skin was exquisitely colored, graced with the faintest blush of rose along her cheeks. Had the red hair not been indication enough, when her russet eyes met mine, I knew who she was. I bowed my head to the Lady of the Autumn Court, and she inclined her chin slightly. I supposed that was honor enough. “For giving her your name in place of my son’s life,” she said, her voice as sweet as sun-warmed apples. She must have been in the crowd that day. She pointed at the bucket with a long, slender hand. “My debt is paid.” She disappeared through the door she’d opened, and I could have sworn I smelled roasting chestnuts and crackling fires in her wake.

Rhys (while wearing the mask of hte High Lord) uses her to taunt Lucien again in ACOMAF:

“Little Lucien,” Rhys purred. “Didn’t the Lady of the Autumn Court ever tell you that when a woman says no, she means it?”

“Prick,” Lucien snarled, storming past his sentinels, but not daring to touch his weapons. “You filthy, whoring prick.”

Lucien explaining how he was treated since Beron may suspect he's Helion's heir and as we know from Tamlin: future high lords have physical markers:

His jaw tightened. “As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn’t particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting … I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.”

“I’d say that sounds more High-Lord-like than the life of an idle, unwanted son.”

A long, steely look. “Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?”

This may not relate to the Lady of the Autumn Court's relationship with Helion, but I'm gathering all the crumbs (why does Eris hesitate before calling his brothers brothers?)

“You hunted me down like an animal,” I cut in. “I think we’ll choose to believe the worst.”

Eris’s pale face flushed. “I was given an order. And sent to do it with two of my … brothers.”

Eris has no love for Beron (he literally asks Rhys to kill him), but he does seem to protect the Lady during the High Lord's Meeting:

“If you want proof that we are not scheming with Hybern,” Rhysand said blandly to them all, “consider the fact that it would be far less time-consuming to slice into your minds and make you do my bidding.”

Only Beron was stupid enough to scoff. Eris was just angling his body in his chair—blocking the path to his mother.

Helion and Lady of Autumn lock eyes:

The violence simmering off my friends was enough to boil the pool at our toes as the High Lord of Autumn filed through the archway, his sons in rank behind him, his wife—Lucien’s mother—at his side. Her russet eyes scanned the room, as if looking for that missing son.

They settled instead on Helion, who gave her a mocking incline of his dark head. She quickly averted her gaze.

The High Lords discuss the past war:

(also reminder: Eris has Amber Eyes like Helion)

Helion shrugged, the sun catching in the embroidered gold thread of his tunic. “Indeed, though it seems Tamlin is already ahead of me. The Spring Court must be evacuated.” His amber eyes darted between Tarquin and Beron. “Surely your northern neighbors will welcome them.”

Beron’s lip curled. “We do not have the resources for such a thing.”

“Right,” Viviane said, “because everyone’s too busy polishing every jewel in that trove of yours.”

Beron threw her a glare that had Kallias tensing. “Wives were invited as a courtesy, not as consultants.”

Viviane’s sapphire eyes flared as if struck by lightning. “If this war goes poorly, we’ll be bleeding out right alongside you, so I think we damn well get a say in things.”

“Hybern will do far worse things than kill you,” Beron counted coolly. “A young, pretty thing like you especially.”

Kallias’s snarl rippled the water in the reflection pool, echoed by Mor’s own growl.

Beron smiled a bit. “Only three of us were present for the last war.” A nod to Rhys and Helion, whose face darkened. “One does not easily forget what Hybern and the Loyalists did to captured females in their war-camps. What they reserved for High Fae females who either fought for the humans or had families who did.” He put a heavy hand on his wife’s too-thin arm. “Her two sisters bought her time to run when Hybern’s forces ambushed their lands. The two ladies did not walk out of that war-camp again.” Helion was watching Beron closely, his stare simmering with reproach.

The Lady of the Autumn Court kept her focus on the reflection pool. Any trace of color drained from her face. Dagdan and Brannagh flashed through my mind—along with the corpses of those humans. What they’d done to them before and after they’d died

After Nesta makes her speech:

She looked to Beron and his family as she finished. Only the Lady and Eris seemed to be considering—impressed, even, by the strange, simmering woman before them.

After Azriel attacks Eris:

Beron struck—only for his fire to bounce off a hard barrier of my own. I lifted my gaze to the High Lord of Autumn. “That’s twice now we’ve handed you your asses. I’d think you’d be sick of the humiliation.”

Helion laughed

---

Eris, wisely, averted his eyes. And said, “Apologies, Morrigan.”

His father actually gawked at the words. But something like approval shone on the Lady of Autumn’s face as her eldest son settled himself once more.

Thesan rubbed his temples. “This does not bode well.”

But Helion smirked at his retinue, crossing an ankle over a knee and flashing those powerful, sleek thighs. “Looks like you owe me ten gold marks.”

Feyre loses her shit:

Beron shielded barely fast enough to block me, but the wake singed Eris’s arm—right through the cloth. And the pale, lovely arm of Lucien’s mother.

---

The Lady of Autumn was clutching her arm, angry red splattered along the moon-white skin. No glimmer of pain on that face, though. I said to her as I reclaimed my seat, “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes lifted toward mine, round as saucers.

Beron spat, “Don’t talk to her, you human filth.”

Helion tells the story of the Affair:

Helion tapped a finger against the carved arm of his couch. “He played games in the War and it cost him—dearly. His people still remember those choices—those losses. His own damn wife remembers.”

Helion had looked at the Lady of Autumn repeatedly during the meeting. I asked, carefully and casually, “What do you mean?”

--

Helion’s jaw clenched. “The Lady of the Autumn Court was sent to stay with her sisters, her younger children packed off to other relatives. To spread out the bloodline.” He dragged a hand through his sable hair. “Hybern attacked their estate. Her sisters bought her time to run. Not because she was married to Beron, but because they loved each other. Fiercely. She tried to stay, but they convinced her to go. So she did—she ran and ran, but Hybern’s beasts were still faster. Stronger. They cornered her at a ravine, where she became trapped atop a ledge, the beasts snapping at her feet

--

Helion didn’t so much as shift in his chair. “She was still young—though she’d been married to that delightful male for nearly two decades. Married too young, the marriage arranged when she was twenty.”

---

But it was Mor who said coolly, “I heard a rumor once, Helion, that she waited before agreeing to that marriage. For a certain someone who had met her by chance at an equinox ball the year before.”

I tried not to blink, not to let any of my rising interest surface.

The fire banked to embers and Helion threw a half smile in Mor’s direction. “Interesting. I heard her family wanted internal ties to power, and that they didn’t give her a choice before they sold her to Beron.”

--

“How long did the affair last?” I asked. That withdrawn female … I couldn’t imagine it.

Helion snorted. “Is that a polite question for a High Lady to be asking?”

But the way he spoke, that smile … I only waited, using silence to push him instead.

Helion shrugged. “On and off for decades. Until Beron found out. They say the lady was all brightness and smiles before that. And after Beron was through with her … You saw what she is.”

“What did he do to her?”

“The same things he does now.” Helion waved a hand. “Belittle her, leave bruises where no one but him will see them.”

I clenched my teeth. “If you were her lover, why didn’t you stop it?” The wrong thing to say. Utterly wrong, by the dark fury that rippled across Helion’s face.

“Beron is a High Lord, and she is his wife, mother of his brood. She chose to stay. Chose. And with the protocols and rules, Lady, you will find that most situations like the one you were in do not end well for those who interfere.

I didn’t back down, didn’t apologize. “You barely even looked at her today.”

“We have more important matters at hand.”

“Beron never called you out for it?”

“To publicly do so would be to admit that his possession made a fool of him. So we continue our little dance, these centuries later.” I somehow doubted that beneath that roguish charm and irreverence, Helion felt it was a dance at all.

But if it had ended centuries ago, and she’d never seen him again, had let Beron treat her so abominably …

The Lucien Paternity Revelation:

While we spoke, I said down the bond, Helion is Lucien’s father. Rhys was silent. Then— Holy burning hell. His shock was a shooting star between us.

I let my gaze dart through the room, half paying attention to Helion’s musing on the wall and how to repair it, then dared study the High Lord for a heartbeat. Look at him. The nose is the same, the smile. The voice. Even Lucien’s skin is darker than his brothers’. A golden brown compared to their pale coloring.

It would explain why his father and brothers detest him so much—why they have tormented him his entire life.

My heart squeezed at that. And why Eris didn’t want him dead. He wasn’t a threat to Eris’s power—his throne. I swallowed. Helion has no idea, does he?

It would seem not.

The Lady of Autumn’s favorite son—not only from Lucien’s goodness. But because he was the child she’d dreamed of having … with the male she undoubtedly loved.

Beron must have discovered the affair when she was pregnant with Lucien.

He likely suspected, but there was no way to prove it—not if she was sharing his bed, too. Rhys’s disgust was a tang in my mouth. I have no doubt Beron debated killing her for the betrayal, and even afterward. When Lucien could be passable as his own of spring—just enough to make him doubt who had sired his last son.

I wrapped my head around it. Lucien not Beron’s son, but Helion’s. His power is flame, though. They’ve mused Beron’s title could go to him.

His mother’s family is strong—that was why Beron wanted a bride from their line. The gift could be hers.

You never suspected?

Not once. I’m mortified I didn’t even consider it.

What does this mean, though?

Nothing—ultimately nothing. Other than the fact that Lucien might be Helion’s sole heir

#LONG post #lady of autumn #lucien vanserra #autumn court #beron vanserra #eris vanserra #helion spell cleaver #acotar #lady of the autumn court #forest house #a court of wings and ruin #high lord's meeting #a court of silver flames #kp analysis #acotar series #mtp

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

Part 3 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, artist!reader, establishedfwb!jisung, skz side characters, explicit language, conflicting feelings angst, reader has past trauma/trust issues (implied), fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms (implied), fluffy n’ intimate body touching (this is a thing I think lol), lil bit of nipple play, seo changbin being the soft soft dom of my SOUL 

Word count: 4.6k 

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

ding-ding-diNG! 

Your teeth chattered, battling the early morning frigid air. White wisps of your shaking breath vaporized in front of you. Your arms were tightly wrapped around your chest and your knees bounced with a little dance to keep your blood flowing. 

[02:29] CB

me: where the hell are you? are you coming down? 

Your dry and cold fingers typed out the words hurriedly on your phone screen. One more time, you smashed your finger on the buzzer button. You figured that if he had fallen asleep after inviting you over, you would kill him. 

“Come on, come on,” you hissed into the open air. 

Thick footsteps came clomping down the stairs from the other side of the frosted glass door, and your attention quickly whipped over. 

As expected, he had adorned himself in nearly all black clothing. Nevertheless, he had thought to pull out his silver chain over the padded coat with white stripes down the arms. 

“Took you long enough. Let me in, I feel like my toes are frozen.” 

Changbin’s eyes cast down to your thin canvas sneakers you had put on in your haste, which were now covered in snow. 

“You should have worn better shoes then. Lets get going.” 

“--Get going??” 

He swung the door behind him closed and it locked with a little click. 

“We’re going somewhere?” 

“I’m hungry.” Changbin simply announced, then took off walking down the block. 

“I thought that--” 

“--Keep up. It’s not that far.” 

He led the two of you onward, and you snuck one more look up at him and the way that the snowflakes got tangled in his hair. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Here, be careful, it’s hot.” 

After brushing off the ice crusted bench, Changbin presented to you a giant bowl of steaming noodles so large you guessed you could keep live fish in it. The smell of the broth was dreadfully nostalgic and was full of all of your favorite ingredients, almost as if he had known exactly what you would’ve ordered. You couldn’t help but feel giddy while the steam wafted up your nose. 

You wondered with full eyes, “Oh my god, what is this?” 

“-The best thing that you’ll ever have in your life. You might as well thank me now.” 

You pulled the little heater closer towards the two of you with radiating orange coils. Changbin didn’t skip a beat sitting right down next to you, letting the fabric of both of your coats intermingle. 

“This is my favorite place in the city. Their recipes really remind me of my mom and grandma’s.” 

“Well I’m really excited to try.” You blew off a handful of noodles steaming into your nose while Changbin expectantly watched you hork it down. 

“So?” 

You covered your chomping mouth with your hand. “So, so good.” 

“Hmm.” He scoffed, then there was that smug little smirk of his. 

You thought to yourself that it was kind of cute. 

The two of you sat quietly together, watching the silent sounds of the snowfall on the road in front of you, following the cars that passed. Over time, your body seemed to gravitate: bit by bit and piece by piece, closer to the boy next to you. 

Changbin set down his metal chopsticks with a tiny clink on the table. “So, are you going to tell me about yourself now?” 

“Me?” 

“Didn’t I say last time I wanted to know?” 

You remembered, but this time you couldn’t as easily kiss away the questions on his lips. 

“How do you mean? There isn’t too much to know.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. What is it that you study?” 

“You want to know what I study?” 

You nearly laughed in your surprise at the mundane question considering that the person sitting across from you had seen you turned inside out, a moaning and muttering mess upon first meeting, and he wanted to know what you studied? 

“Why does that matter?” 

“Matters ‘cause I want to know.” He simply returned, and gave you that look. 

Normally his eyes were stormy grey, like the way that the sky would sizzle with energy before lighting would crack. They clouded with severity that seemed dangerous when he was angry, or when there was something that he wanted. But, looking at you like this, there was no danger that they held. 

“Are you going to tell me or just keep glaring at me like that?” Changbin nodded to your nearly empty bowl. “Finish that. Don’t let it go cold.” 

You did as you were told--at least it wasn’t answering the question. 

“Fine. You don’t have to tell me. But tell me something else at least. Why were you at that show?” 

“My friends took me? My friend Chan is really into underground rap and stuff like that so he usually drags me and Felix with him. I don’t mind.” 

“See? Was answering that that hard?” 

You had forgotten, then laughed a little to yourself. “Chan actually was there to see you. He had heard about you from whatever those circles are. He was really excited.” 

“I’m actually glad you were there for that reason. For a second there I thought you might’ve said that you were there to see Han Jisung.” 

You nearly spat out your bite of noodles, and choked a little on the broth. 

“Guy’s a fuckin’ showboat and a cocky asshole. The girls at the shows are usually there for him.” 

“What the fuck? You didn’t just say that.” 

Anger bit like acid in your throat. 

“What? He is!!” 

It should have hurt more that he had assumed that you were one of the masses that would fall over their feet for Han Jisung, but it didn’t. Your chest twisted in knots knowing that the assumption was right--that hurt the most. You felt sick knowing now how he would look at you if he knew where you would stoop. 

“I’m complimenting you!! I’m glad that you don’t waste your time on assholes like him.” 

“Since when do you get to pass judgement on who I do and don’t spend my time with? -And aren’t you one of those same assholes? Up there on that stage, what makes you think that you’re any different from the rest of them?” 

“I mean...I like to think that I’m not--” 

Your eyes rolled back so far it might’ve hurt a little. 

“You’re all the fucking same. I’m so fucking stupid.” 

The words quietly fell off your lips like venom. 

“We’re all?” What are you talking about?” 

“And what the hell is this with trying to get up all in my business? We fucked once Changbin, what more do you want from me? You think I owe you something now? I’m not falling for that again.” 

The crunch of your footsteps padded the snow when you turned out of your seat to speed away from him as fast as you could, and as far as you could. 

He was the unbelievable one. 

“Stop! I don’t get what you’re talking about. Falling for what again? You’re not making any sense! And no, I don’t think that you owe me something. I’m sorry if you thought that. I’m just--” He grabbed at your arm. 

“--WHAT?” you tore his hand away. 

“Is it a fucking crime to fuck someone and then give a damn about them? Ever heard about that happening?” 

In your life? 

Something terrible and suffocating rose in your chest that felt like a sob that you had held in for much too long. 

“Listen.” Changbin approached you closer, carefully, that look softening. “It’s freezing out here, it’s late. We...don’t have to talk about it any more. I’ll take you back to my place, I’ll call you a cab, you can go home? Okay?” 

Changbin poked out his arm looped in his pocket for you to link up to. 

You didn’t need his help when you knew the way. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝ 

Rosemary and cedarwood again. It was like it was everywhere. It was in the hoodie that he insisted that you put on and all entangled in the fabric of that blanket that he draped around your shoulders. Had you remembered what it was like under the covers of his bed, it was likely there too. 

“Warming up?” 

The bed bounced a little where he sat next to you with the tips of his ears pink. As cold as you were, you were certain that he must have been colder. 

“I’m fine. Thank you.” You crossed up your cold feet under your legs. 

“20 minutes? Then I’ll call them?” 

You nodded, pulling up the blanket hem to your nose and covering half your face. 

Changbin breathed out a little laugh. “You look like a marshmallow.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“Not a bad thing.” 

His smile fell, and he focused on the silver rings twisting around his fingers. He fiddled with them, and you watched, neither of you knowing really what to do with the silence. After some resolve, he crawled over next to you, to lay facing your bundled up face.

At last, he sighed, “I could tell you about me. If you care.” 

Rather than respond, you merely kept on looking at the way the silver would glimmer in the dim yellow of the light. 

“Everything that I do, I do to rap and to perform. My parents never supported me doing this kind of thing and said that if I wanted to do it, I would loose their support. After a while, I realized their support wasn’t that valuable anyway if it was going to be over something that didn’t matter to me. I moved out after high school, I’ve been doing this ever since.” 

“You like it that much?” 

He cracked his fingers, “Sometimes you just know what it is that you’re gonna spend your life doing. For me, it’s this.” 

Your eyes fell to your own hands which still were speckled with little flecks of acrylic. 

“I know what you mean.” 

“You do?” 

“I...paint. And stuff like that. It’s not my major, it could never be, but I feel like that when I’m mixing the colors together and it’s just right. Helps me get the thoughts outta my head.” 

“Yeah...it’s exactly like that.” 

In the warmth of the blankets, you felt a yawn escape your lips and your eyes grow heavy. Your vision had grown blurry, and your dry eyes begged for sleep, but you could still see the way that creeping little smile tugged at his lips. 

You thought to yourself that it was kind of cute. 

“Thank you for telling me something about you.” 

His voice was some kind of dreamy watercoloring of pale pinks and blues. You thought you had likely imagined it. The weight of his hand on your arm felt weightless too, why was it lingering here? His fingers tickled your ear while he swept your hair behind the skin. 

The way that he whispered, “You’re making me want to kiss you.” must have been some kind of dream too. 

Laying like this, right by your side reminded you for before, and the way that your brain had gone cloudy--you could’ve kissed him like that for hours. 

“You...didn’t stop yourself before.” 

Your challenge was all that he needed to take both sides of your face into his hands connecting himself to you incessantly, but gently. He spilled into your mouth kisses of sky blue and lavender, every single one more dedicated than the last. He kissed like he was dizzy and that you would make it all right for him, and like you were the one that he could find over and over. His mouth was blazing hot with warmth and he missed no part of you, moving on to kiss you in places you didn’t know needed the attention: over your bottom and top lip, in the corners of your mouth and the tip of your nose, carefully on the peach fuzz on your cheeks and the bone of your jawline. Each one was purposeful and sweet and melted into your skin snowflakes. 

His wandering hands were cold under the blankets, but you didn’t mind the sensation against your bare skin where he crept his way in, smoothing over the curves of your body. 

Changbin cascaded is way down, pulling you in by the hips closer to his own body. Your core tightened feeling his hands trickle over your waistband. 

“Can I?” He whispered into his kisses. 

You nodded: your exhaustion mixed with some state of unconscious desperation that you had entwined together, and you were completely at his mercy once more. 

“Yes. I’ve...wanted you to.” 

He popped the button and unzipped your pants with little effort, slipping those same cold fingers into the heat of your folds. You shivered with the two temperatures mingling and the pressure of his fingers on your slicked bud in little circles. 

All you could manage were a couple of attempts at forming some kind of words that would eventually get caught in your throat. With one hand, you clawed at the fabric of his tee, hoping just a little that he liked the way that your nails would dig into his skin. His digits mingled all in your arousal, and brought it back up to your clit to make it twitch. After a while he would let you throw your head back into the pillows to feel every little bit of it and focus only on the way that he would press his fingers in harder and faster, then tease you over with barely touching you at all. He would remove his fingers too, to admire the way that it would string between them, leaving you a writhing mess without him. 

“Bin, please, just wanna--” 

You didn’t need to finish your sentence before he granted your wish. He sped up for you, rubbing in perfect circles for your clit to throb under his touch, closer and closer... 

“Can I--?” 

He didn’t answer you, but instead, leaned down to fill your mouth with more kisses and maintained his pace with forearm muscles flexing slightly. 

Your orgasm was faster and much harder than you had expected: it rocked your whole body, from top to bottom where your legs thrashed and your toes curled. The muscles of your stomach tensed, and you felt your whole core spring upward as you came. Luckily, you remembered to be quiet and kept your breath short and sharp, letting only the tiniest of moans meet the air. 

Changbin helped you ride your orgasm out until you could take no more sensation, then stopped, snapping your underwear hem a little on the way up. He held you close as you caught your breath, snickering a little when your body would shake. Your euphoria calmed you down into an even more exhausted state, but the way that the endorphins coursed though you felt like a high. Greedily, the closeness and the way that your head spun made the word slip out of your mouth. 

“More?” 

Changbin said nothing while he indulged you and peppered your skin with kisses in all those places that you didn’t know needed the attention. He would smile into your lips each time that you would come undone; slipping deeper and deeper into him. 

“M-more. I just want...one...more.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Just skipping one class isn’t the end of the world. You know that you look like a mess right?” 

Minho, your assigned seat partner turned friend-in-suffering poked his pencil at the baggy black hoodie that you had forgotten to return. On the bus ride to campus, you had realized that you hadn’t taken it off. 

“I know, alright? You don’t have to remind me.” 

“You gonna tell me about it?” Minho poked at you once more with his teasing grin. You retaliated by raising your phone up as if to chuck it at his head. 

Behind the two of you, a group of two ambitious girls hushed as they organized their plethora of colored pens and highlighters. Minho bowed a little sorry in apology. 

His voice dropped to a whisper, “I’m assuming that this isn’t yours.” 

“I-it’s new. I just haven’t worn it before.” 

He scanned over the fabric and the little white brand on the left sleeve. “Huh. Must be a popular one I guess. I’m pretty sure that my one of my friends has the same one.” 

“--Will you lend me something to write on...and with? I...didn’t bring my stuff with me.”

“Really.” Your classmate tore out a piece of his notebook paper--a little extra loudly as well--just for those eavesdropping girls behind you. “You should’ve just not come.” 

To your left, your phone vibrated with the screen illuminated: 

Low Battery: 20% 

[10:39] 

felix: I can’t believe you. You went over there again? Didn’t you say that he looked at you weird or something like that?? What happened?? 

Your heart dropped a little remembering how you had pardoned Felix’s worried nagging and turned on the Find My Friends feature in your phone. 

“shit.” 

Your phone screen lit up the underside of your table as you frantically tapped through your settings to turn off the slide bar. In the corner of your eye, you had seen Minho take his phone under the table as well. 

[10:41]  

CB: good job leaving your keys at my place 

i can’t get them back to you until much later. i’ve got work. 

“shit.” 

me: i have work until later too 

and sorry 

CB: my roommate said that he could get them to you at 5. you’ll be at the library then? 

me: your roommate?? 

CB: relax. he doesn’t give a shit. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

You read over the messages over and over, refreshing the little chat nearly every two seconds. Over the time waiting, your hand had grown embarrassingly damp, and your foot nervously tapped at the floor to the same tune that your chest thumped with your anxiety. 

This was fucking humiliating. 

Granted, you were no stranger to unsavory behavior, but somehow, this felt even worse. Furthermore, it all could have been avoided: 

What the hell had happened last night? 

It was becoming all too a common theme for you: you didn’t remember falling asleep, only waking up to the blaring of your alarm to those obnoxious Tardis sounds that were just a little too out of date...considering that you had long past all that Dr. Who stuff. 

Changbin had actually left the bed all to you, waking up some time a little before you from sleeping on the couch and offering you some horribly cheap tasting coffee. You still drank it. 

CB: just stand somewhere by the front door. i told him that’s where you’ll be. 

The library overlooked the main quad of your university. In the wintertime, the trees that encircled the usually grassy circle were reduced to craggy and bare fingers powdered in the white snow. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” You scolded yourself though clenched teeth. 

“--Y/n?” 

He had snuck up on you, coming from the right, rather than the front of the entrance. 

You squeaked out, “Oh fuck.” 

Minho twisted your jingling keys around his fingers. 

“This is...” Minho laughed out incredulously, “...a coincidence.” 

You clawed your keys from his hand with a hasty “Thanks.” 

His eyes scanned you up and down as if he was meeting you for the first time, which he certainly wasn’t. 

“The hoodie. Dammit. I should’ve known.” 

“I-I really need to get back inside, they might need me in th--” 

“--So you’ve been screwing him?” 

Your heart thumped even more painfully. 

“Wait, and you’ve been inside my apartment before and I didn’t even know?” 

“Well I didn’t know that you were his roommate!! I didn’t even plan on meeting any of you if I could help it!!” 

“So what is he, like, your type?” 

“HEY. I don’t mean to stay over, it kind of just happens...I didn’t even want to see him after the first time--” 

Minho scoffed then shoved his pink hands into the pockets of his navy and white striped bomber jacket. 

“Will I be seeing you around there now?” 

“--No.” You cut in. “You won’t.” 

Your classmate huffed out a visible breath, “You say that now, but I know that you don’t mean it.” 

“What the hell do you mean?” 

Minho rolled his eyes, then gave the top of your head a chastising pat. 

“If you’re gonna be over, you might as well bring snacks or something. No one in that damn apartment knows how to grocery shop for themselves besides me.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Too many fucking coincidences. 

You had sat yourself at the exact same table that you had sat at the night before, but this time, you watched as it was Changbin who was standing behind the counter of the noodle shop, taking orders, and smiling much too widely for it to have been normal. He was even wearing one of those cutesy little aprons that the rest of the employees had: there was a little chicken embroidered in the corner next to his nametag. 

To anyone else, it made no logical sense why you had decided to show up there: but your frazzled brain still working off your embarrassment from earlier thought this was the best thing to do. You felt like yelling just to get something out of your body. It wasn’t even his fault that his roommate happened to be one of your friends. Your head however, made it his fault. 

He had clocked you from where you had sat fuming, not even looking phased at all. In fact, he had dished out for you one of those smirks. One of those stupid, cute smirks. 

“See you tomorrow.” He clapped his coworker on the back while he took off his apron. 

The shop door creaked out when he opened it. 

“Didn’t expect to see you here. You really wanted to see me that soon already?” 

You shoved the bundle of his hoodie from your hands to his. 

“Here.” 

“You came all this way just to give me my hoodie back? That and I’m assuming Minho told you that I work here.” 

“How come you didn’t tell me that before?” 

“Didn’t seem that important--” 

At last, you let yourself snap. “--You made a fucking fool of me today!! Do you know how awful it was??” 

“Ahhh Minho did say something about knowing you.” 

You had expected sympathy, but rather he teased you with that little cocky grin. Had you known any better, it was almost like he was admiring how flustered you had become. 

One, two, then three fat raindrops fell from from the sky and onto his parka, then the rest followed all at once. The bits of slushy and freezing rain barreled in suddenly and fell sideways. It slapped against the sidewalks and pattered on the shutters and gutters of the buildings lining the road.

“Great! This is just great!!” You pulled your coat over your head. 

Changbin grabbed at your hand without hesitation. “Come with me.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Open the door!! Open the door!!” 

Frozen bits of snow and rain matted your hair and dripped off into your collar; meeting your bare skin. Your entire body felt as if it had been plunged into a freezing cold ocean, and you shook with ferocity. By now, your jeans had completely soaked through with with water and the denim stuck to your legs. 

Changbin fumbled with his wallet and wet fingers, finally unlocking the door with that same, 

ding-ding-diNG! 

The heater in the little vestibule blasted you with heat upon your entrance: a welcome feeling to your drenched body. He had reached out for your hand to guide you to the elevator even though you knew the way. 

Water dropped off your bodies into the linoleum floor of the elevator and it got all muddled too by prints from your shoes. After, you followed him further into the apartment building, to the very place you had sworn up and down that you would never see again. You didn’t know how many more times you would have to say it out loud before you would actually obey your own words. 

“Fuck--it’s so cold.” 

Changbin clinked his keys into the brass keyhole in the long and dank hallway that had matted red velvet carpeting. There was an odd and old-looking stain in front of his door that you had noticed last time. 

“It’ll be warmer inside.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

He didn’t need to, but he reached out to you once more to pull you through the doorframe. A sense of determination seemed to sweep over him, and you could just barely see that stormy expression cloud over his eyes. 

“Ah! Y/n! How nice to see you here officially at last!” 

Minho perked up from his book where he was cuddled up on one of those pleather couches in the living room. 

Changbin didn’t give you a chance to to respond, but rather tugged you away down the hallway to the bathroom at the very end nearest his room. 

“Changbin, what are you--” 

He slammed the door behind the two of you, then flicked on the lights at the exact same time as he crashed his whole body into you, flattening your back against the door and scooping up both sides of your face to run his cold lips over yours. His hands were just as cold, and the tips of his bangs dripped tiny droplets of water onto your forehead. 

In your shock, your hands were suspended in the air, but he just as quickly took them to wrap them around his sides. 

The wooden door rattled a little behind your back, but the sounds faded when he deepened his kiss: floating his tongue over your bottom lip and letting out a breathy little gasp along with it. 

“Fuck. You’re really good at making me want you.” 

His voice had turned grave with his want, and he never broke your gaze while he peeled off every single piece of your soaked clothing. His eyes ravished your bare skin riddled with goosebumps, and he immediately took to kissing into your shoulders and collarbones once he had access. You tried your best to help him take his clothes off too, but instead he pushed your hands away to do the task himself. Once he had finished, he connected his lips with yours. 

“Touch me.” He commanded of you. 

You found the request odd, but you still obliged him, starting by running your hands down this pecs then to his abs and around his waist where you scratched at the skin of his lower back. He did the same to you: tracing gentle fingers down your breasts, then going to kneed at them, tweaking the buds just slightly. It wasn’t for long until he encapsulated you completely into his arms, then drew a line into your spine with his ring finger. 

Your body warmed by the second: skin now set ablaze by his teeth grazing the skin of your neck. 

He drew you along with him, then turned on the water to the shower with a metallic sounding groan. Within a couple minutes the whole room filled with a dense steam. He lead you in to the small compartment, stopping too for a moment to watch the way that the water flowed down your body in little transparent veins.

“You’re perfect.” He whispered into the nape of your neck. 

The showering of water was too loud for you to hear, and it wasn’t like you were paying attention anyway. Your phone vibrated where it at fallen in your mess of clothes on the tiled floor. 

[23:27] 

jisung: what the hell’s been up with you the past few days? 

phone break or something?? 

you didn’t see the other texts I sent you? 

are you doing anything right now? 

...

are you 

ok? 

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #changbin x y/n #changbin x reader #changbin x female reader #stray kids drabble #stray kids imagine #stray kids oneshots #kpop drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop imagine #kpop smut #when she turns out longer than you expected ooP #hehe its ok its ok its for the plot development hehe

[cherrysha]

Hi! I saw your requests were open so i thought I'd slide somethin your way 👉👈 Could I ask for a part 2 of your Hisoka Chase work?? You mentioned the writing prompts in another post, so maybe 16, "you look best when you're at my mercy?" Reader trying to fight back against Hisoka after he nabs them, only for him to make it v e r y obvious he gets off on their resistance after roughing them up more?

Tysm!!! Part 2 under the cut <3

Warning: Blood, noncon, violence, kidnapping, Cursing, Yandere!Hisoka, spit, choking, aaand I think dassit

Word count: 1,154

18+ only here folks.

Part 1 here

The sight of your blood is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. He’s sure of it.

It’s the same as any others but when it drips from your mouth like that, slowly leaving a crimson stain on your shirt, it’s gorgeous. It’s like you’re teasing him, begging him to come get a taste.

“Don’t look at me like that darling, you know this is your fault. You shouldn’t have tried to run again.”

Your eyes are dark and in an effort to show your anger you spit on him. Splattering his freshly done makeup as you try to put as much venom in it as you can muster.

He licks your blood from his lips as he smiles.

“Do you still think that upsets me? Have you not learned yet?”

Your hands are tied behind your back, firmly held by his aura. He’s taken you...somewhere. You’re not quite sure. But from the looks of it he was still living pretty lavish for a Class A bounty. It’d been a few hours since the bastard had taken you here, keeping you for what reason you still couldn’t figure out.

“Can you just shut the fuck up? For like, one second? Your voice is getting on my nerves.”

And that gets under his skin alright. Such a dirty little mouth demanding things from him. Giving him orders when he’s the one who’s obviously in control? He can’t stand it.

But Hisoka just widens his smile and pulls you up by your hair.

“You realize” he says, “I could easily crush your jaw for speaking to me like that.” His fingernail leaves a trail of dark red blood as it traces against it.

You grit your teeth, trying to fight off the burn in your scalp.

“And do you realize that I don’t give a fuck?”

He only laughs.

It’s a searing pain you don’t recognize at first. Quicker than lightning it strikes up your thigh, traveling until it morphs into a blood curdling scream as it leaves your lips.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic” he sighs, letting your body hit the wooden floorboards.

“You’re lucky I don’t want to damage that pretty little face of yours.”

He takes a moment to palm himself through the fabric of his pants as he watches you try to roll off of your shattered leg. You screamed so pretty for him, just like he thought you would. The ache between his thighs was becoming too much to ignore.

“My thigh? D-Did you... break my thigh?” You breathe.

“Always so perceptive y/n.”

You finally roll onto your back, staring up at him as the pain rips a giggle from your throat.

Your delirious from it, the glazed look in your eyes making him bite his lip. Your body doesn’t know how to react to it yet, and in order to process through the pain you’re brain floods you with endorphins. You’re high off of it.

Your laugh is interrupted by a blood spattering cough, and you let out a deep sigh.

“I know why you wear that clown makeup Hisoka.” You rattle the tease out of your throat, meeting his eyes.

“Humor me.”

You smile, teeth stained red as you reply.

“It’s because you’re a fucking joke.”

And oh, he could kill you. Could murder you right then and there and prove who the joke is. but he just laughs right along with you. He knows you just want to die, want to rile him up enough so he’d kill you.

What you didn’t account for is his incessant need to break you. To destroy that bratty spirit of yours. To make you want him back.

He picks you up by your neck for what seems like the hundredth time tonight, and licks his lips before covering yours in a tight kiss. The grunts you let out, legs flailing as you try to pull away. The iron he licks from your tongue. It’s heavenly. The grip on your throat tightens slowly but surely, his lips covering yours leaving you even more breathless.

It takes you all of ten seconds to pass out, much to Hisoka’s dismay. He sighs and wraps his arm around your waist, holding you up.

“We’ll work on that later.” he whispers to you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he hauls you deeper into his apartment.

-

It’s the warmth that rouses you. All encompassing, It soothes over your abused skin making you sigh.

“Are you finally awake dear?” Hisoka smiles, head resting on yours as he supports you.

It takes you a moment but you slowly open your eyes, startled to find out your being washed. Warm water hits your back as Hisoka rubs you gently with a cloth lathered in soap. The pain radiating from your body still having you a bit woozy.

“Why? Why am I in the shower?”

“If I had drawn a bath the water would’ve been filthy the moment you got in sweetheart.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“This is much more hygienic.”

Shame floods your face as you look down, finally registering just how naked you are... how naked he is. It’s enough to make you try to wriggle out of his grasp. It no use, his grip like iron. But you try like hell anyway.

He lifts you up so your eye level with him.

“Do you really think that leg of yours can support you? Tsk, Don’t be stupid y/n.”

You get a good look at his face for the first time since you’ve woken up and it’s a shock to say the least. Flaming red hair falling limply against his forehead, face paint long gone. He looks... eerily normal. He grins at the surprise on your face.

Burying his head in your neck he bites down hard enough to draw blood. “Do you still think I’m a joke?” he whispers.

You cry out, dazed as a loud moan leaves Hisoka’s throat.

It’s easy to pin you against the shower wall, even easier still to hike your broken leg up over his hip. He lets you down, letting you hold your weight on your good leg while he squeezes the other in his large hand.

The scream you let out is just music to his ears.

Clutching at his shoulders you try your damnedest not to pass out, afraid of him but even more afraid of what he may do once you close your eyes.

And he’s unabashedly moaning now, eyes on yours as he presses his hard length against your abdomen.

Your screams, the crescent shaped wounds you’re digging into his shoulders. Both of your blood mixing as it washes down the drain. It’s working him into a frenzy.

“You know...” he groans, pressing himself further against you, eyes dilating with lust as you let out another scream of pain.

“You look best when you’re at my mercy”

#Hisoka #yandere hisoka #hxh hisoka #hisoka x reader #yandere hisoka x reader #hisoka morow #hunter x hunter

[ninnodesu]

“Can I See You?” ch 2 || Modern!Thomas

Well. People apprently wanted more of modern!Thomas, so naturally, my brain conjured up a continuation.  GUESS WE HAVE TWO LONG STORIES NOW, FRIENDOS

I AM GOING TO TAG EVERY CHAPTER OF THIS FIC AS CICU IN CASE YOU WANT TO BLOCK OR FOLLOW!

TWs: - Mentions of rape - Broken bone - Mentions of cannibalism - Mentions of murder - Murder

He could see in your eyes, how the tears welled up and streamed down your face that you’d recognize him and he left. He couldn’t look at you at this point, couldn’t look at you cry because of him. He heard you cry behind him as he turned to go into his basement bedroom, his heart stung in his chest as he heard you beg and scream in fear. Closing the bedroom door, he proceeds to lean up against it, back pressed hard to it, eyes shut closed. Some kind of desperate way to make your panicked begging go away.

I can't, I can't, I can't, his inner voice chant like a mantra. His anxiety gets the better of him and he starts pacing, the wood under his feet already marked with a worn-out pattern left by his heavy boots after years and years of anxious pacing. A fierce battle erupts in his mind.

- I can't kill her - You have to, and you know it - No, I won't - Come up with one good reason to fistfight the old man about this - He would die and I wouldn't have to do this fucking thing anymore - And what? You'll live happily ever after with this woman? - I… - She would never accept the truth

Returning to his original place with his back to the door, he slowly sinks down to sit on the floor, one leg sprawled in front of him, the other resting under it. He's lost, he doesn’t know what to do. If he lets you go, you'll go straight to the police. If he kills you, he'll never hear from you again, he'll never see your face again, a sudden wave of intense nausea hits him at the thought of keeping the skin of your face to make a new mask. No, no he can't do that.

This is the first time since he had to butcher his first human that he feels genuinely lost.

He's mad at his uncle for wasting the low amount of money they do have on ugly hookers and booze, having Thomas resort to this way of living. He never truly did want this. The first time Charlie, or Hoyt as he wants to be called now - although Thomas never really did care about his apparent name change and still called him by Charlie to piss on his ego - talked to him about this, he threw up minutes after being left alone.

He still remembers the first time he got forced into butchering a person, just like it was yesterday, even though it’s nearly four years ago.

That day, he was on his way home from work, ending the day with bashing his old boss’s head in with a sledgehammer. The old man had disrespected his family, something Thomas wouldn’t stand for. Knowing that the security cameras were already turned off, he swung the hammer out of anger. He was mad that they were closing the slaughterhouse and he was hurt by the words that had been spoken. No one disrespects his family and gets away with it. Killing his boss didn’t wake any regrets. He believed the old man deserved it. The afternoon sun was still blazing down at his already sweaty form, propping his headphones on his head, he turned the music on full blast and lumbered home with no care in the world.

His right hand carried a memento of his old work, the slaughterhouse’s chainsaw.

As he had come out from a few trees up on the gravel road, a police car was parked by the side of it, the harsh blue and red light blinking to get his attention. Figuring he was caught, he took the headphones off, letting them rest around his neck and stopped in the middle of the road. His hair blew in front of his face as he took heaving breaths, waiting for the piercing pain of a bullet.

Bang! Thud.

What greeted him instead of searing pain, was Charlie standing behind him, brandishing a shotgun and looking down at a police officer with the head blown off. Everything after that is a blur. Vague memories of Charlie talking to him about the plan, the body was laid out on an old table in the basement. He’d never seen this side of his uncle before, so he tuned out.  Words like “ do it”, “no money left”, “can’t afford”, “ butcher him ”, “don’t tell mama” and the worst sentence he’d heard in his life; “ you have to do this, Tommy. For the family. We need meat to survive, boy.” echoed in his mind.

A loud bang coming from outside woke him from his memories. When he just seconds later heard your voice in a shrill pitch, he almost jumped off the floor and hurried out only to see you laying on the floor with half the table over you, the other half leaning against the metallic sink.

Jesus christ…

Being left alone again, your thoughts start racing and your heart along with it.

Where did he go? Why is he here? Does he live here? Is he going to kill you? Rape you? Keep you as a hostage? Was that his family? What? Why? Where?

It’s quiet, but you hear a faint shuffling coming from somewhere close to you. All you can do is lay there and look up at the ceiling, and to your left or right.

On your left you see what looks like a workbench, an apron rests on a hook next to it. It looks well used, stained with a dark and muddy hue of red. There's a sink and dirty towels hanging off the edge of said sink. The sight to your right, however, makes your stomach flip and turn on itself. There’s cleavers, knives, hooks. Huge bins stained with the same red hue as the apron. Putting all the puzzle pieces together, your breathing increases, teetering on the edge of hyperventilating. Thomas, your Thomas. The Thomas you’ve gotten to know, the one you’ve missed for these two weeks, the one who made you all giggly when he sent you the first full-face selfie of himself… a murderer.

As the adrenaline starts shooting through your body, you try wiggling a bit to see how bolted down you are. Your fastenings are tight and they burn as you try pulling your hands out. The metal just digs into your skin resulting in nasty burns.

Fuck…

That’s when an idea - or rather a small glimpse of hope - blooms in your head. Hopefully, the table is not bolted down. It’s a stupid idea, and you know that if Thomas doesn’t kill you, the table most likely will. But rather the table, than the man you’ve slowly started to fall in love with during the months you’ve talked. Getting killed by Thomas’ hands would haunt you more in the afterlife than anything else.

Gathering all the remaining strength, you throw the entirety of your body not bolted down to the side, doing your best to ignore the burning in your wrists and ankles. The first attempt yielded nothing major, the table moved, yes, but not to the extent you wanted. So you do it again, this time, the table goes down, and you with it. You feel the bone in your leg crack before you feel the brutal pain that explodes through it.

Your scream is high to the point where you feel your vocal cords strain and your voice slowly becoming lower, raspier. The pain is enormous, the throbbing pain in your leg thrumming together with your rapid heart. But - thankfully - your scream summons movement, footsteps, and voices. The most prominent footsteps, heavy ones, belong to Thomas as he’s the first one to your side. Even if you can’t see him, you see his clunky boots and grayish jeans, at least you hope that’s Thomas and no one else. All you do is sob onto the floor, your tears pooling under your chin at the pain radiating from your leg… and the burns around your wrists. It takes a full minute before you see big fingers curling around the edge of the table, a grunt coming from above you before your vision starts flying. He was lifting the table up. A loud, hoarse cry escapes your dry throat as the table thuds back into place, jolting your broken leg.

You're about to scream again when your brain catches up to the cleavers and knives hanging to your right but quickly after the first raspy pitch leaves your throat, a hand clamps over your mouth. The rasping sound is muffled under the big hand and you can feel it moisten due to your breath, but all he does is put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion and plead with his eyes for you to stay quiet. Which you don’t, you rasp out a hoarse scream against his palm and keeps shooting daggers at him. My god, are you pissed right now.

Who the fuck are you, and what have done to the Thomas I know, you fucking animal!

You don’t quiet down until you hear that sliding door slide open again and an angry voice rings out. "Thomas! What the fuck is that racket?!"

Thomas jerks his head up as he hears Charlie's voice. He's not sure what to do, his uncle’s footsteps thud down the stairs and soon enough, Thomas sees him in full and exchanges eye contact. "This bitch is still alive? Why haven't you taken care of'er yet, ya idiot?".

Shit uh…

He glances down at your dagger filled eyes while trying to figure how to keep you quiet and talk to his uncle at the same time, needing both hands to do so. He can't sign to Charlie if his hand is clamped over your mouth. Letting out an annoyed grunt, he grabs the nearest towel and shoves it into your mouth as quickly and deep down he can without choking you, making sure you can’t spit it back out. Seeing you so shocked, and angry and… some other kind of emotion he couldn’t place, he got the urge to show you some kind of affection. Resulting in him patting your cheek, his huge hand basically engulfing half your face before walking over to the stairs.

"Well?", Charlie spits out his venomous words. Thomas' hands fidget a bit, nervousness taking a hold of him.

'I know her' The same signs that he kept on repeating earlier, annoyance building inside him knowing that his asshole of an uncle refuses to learn more. Making it almost impossible to have a normal conversation with him. "Listen, Tommy, I. Don’t. Care.", the looks between the men are like venom. "You were 'sposed to get to work on'er before mama gets home. You know damn well how much she hates when the cattle scream." Thomas really can’t help the smirk hiding beneath his mask when he hears that. He glances up the stairs before checking the time on his wristwatch before shrugging, pointing to it, and slowly signing two words he knows Charlie can decipher.

'Fifteen minutes'

That's when Charlie grabs the neck of Thomas' shirt and yanks him forward, the only reason he's able to is that he manages to catch him off guard. His breath reeks of alcohol. A clear cut sign that he’s drunk. "Listen here, you bastard. I've had enough of your defiance today. If you ", he stabs a finger in Thomas' chest at the last word, "don't take care of that girl, I will . And you know damn well I ain't going easy on'er." Charlie releases Thomas with a shove, making him stumble backward slightly. The final words from Charlie’s mouth before leaving the basement stings in Thomas’ heart. "I don't want to see your ugly ass upstairs until she's done for."

Thomas watches him leave and turn towards you, who’s still crying silently on the table.

His heart stings more and more the closer he shuffles to you. Sure, he had had nights where he dreamt that he would meet you. But not like this. Never like this, never here. He did not want to see you on his butcher's block. At the same time, he moves to remove the towel he makes the same shushing motion towards you, with the same pleading eyes as earlier. This time, she nods. And Thomas lets out a sigh of relief. As he removes it, you’re panting, breathing sounding almost more like wheezing squeaks. He goes to rinse the towel under some lukewarm water to pat clean the bloody gash over the eyebrow that got hit to knock you out before getting here. All the time, he feels a burning gaze on him, from eyes that are seemingly watching his every move.

You wince when the damped towel touches your eyebrow, a wound you didn't know you had greeted you with a sting, a small hiss leaving you. Your eyes are glued to the giant man, making sure you see his hands at all times. You want to speak, but your throat is dry and hoarse, figuring out that your earlier screaming has annoyed your vocal cords to a great extent. So all you do is watch him. He, on the other hand, is doing his best to avoid making eye contact with you. And it pisses you off, but at the same time, it relaxes you and makes your heart hurt.

Why the fuck are you avoiding me?!

The thought makes your eyebrows furrow. He’s seen you naked, yet can’t fucking look you in the eyes? You try thrashing a bit with your shoulders to try and get his eyes to yours, but to no avail. His tender way to clean your wound surprises you. This huge killer, this murderer, and straight-up deranged man are making sure not to hurt you, and you can't help but breathe out a laugh.

That's when he - apparently - seems happy with his cleaning and turns his back to you, he turns the water on and it sounds like he's rinsing something. Shutting the water off he moves out of your line of sight. A slight panic arises in your chest at the thought that he might have gone off to fetch whatever tool he seems fit to end your life.  You hear a rummaging sound close by, and then he's back above you, looking down at you. This time, you feel a large hand on your head as he slowly and carefully tilts your head back, your eyes are met with harsh light and you shut them. That overwhelming want and need for him to look into your own eyes die down. Now, you don't want to look at him when he slits your throat.

But he doesn't.

You hear what sounds like a paper wrapping open. Two fingers press on either side of the gash over your eyebrow, a small whimper escapes you at the pinching pain, and then something sticky is attached to you. A band-aid. He had put a bandaid on the cut of your eyebrow. It isn't until you feel his hand leave your head that you open your eyes. And at that moment, your eyes are met with his blue ones. The way he's looking at you makes a tiny bit of your anger and hurt, and fear goes away. His blue eyes are filled to the brim with hurt, and sadness, and confusion. It almost looks like he’s about to burst into tears. He looks broken down.

Thomas fiddles a bit with the paper wrapper of the bandaid after making sure it's secured on your eyebrow and proceeds to look down into your beautiful eyes, your eye color popping in the harsh light. Something in them reflects his own emotions. He doesn’t want this, he punishes himself for not responding to your text messages the past weeks, or that he didn’t reach out to you. What he’s looking at is clear cut torture for him. He wants to cry.

I'm so sorry…

He hears the familiar clacking of his mother's shoes above the both of you, a sigh of relief escapes him. Patting the pockets of his jeans, he makes sure he has his phone and the keys to the basement before he heads over to the stairs. But he stops right before ascending them and looks over to you.

He pulls his phone up, unlocks it swiftly, and goes to his text-to-speech app, making sure the volume is put on high before typing out two words and hitting the speech button. A male voice rings out through the basement.

"I'm sorry"

#thomas hewitt #thomas leatherface hewitt #modern!thomas #modern au #thomas hewitt fanfiction #CICU #can i see you

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Sunset Swerve - Part 10

Pairing: Luke x OC

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: some swearing, i actually think that’s it for this part?

A/N: Okay here’s part 10, or as I’ve been calling it: Part 9 2: Electric Boogaloo. This is a very special edition of Sunset Swerve in which you get to read from Luke’s POV! This is covering the same time frame as part 9 but Luke’s pov provides some different scenes and new insight that’s kinda significant so I would really recommend not skipping it lol. I wanna shoutout @meangirlsx for being my sounding board and giving me loads of help on these two parts! As always, send me a message/drop a comment if you want to be tagged and let me know what you think!

Part 9  Masterlist

___

The week started off great for Luke. He was coming off the high from their performance at the open mic time and the relief that Julie didn’t have to quit the band. The latter fact also absolved him from his guilt of having suggested that Julie sneak out in the first place.

He found himself spending a lot of time with Jordan in the following days between talking about the book he’d started (she had been right, Annabeth was really cool though he maintained that she was stuck-up) and writing music. Their relationship had become much more civil following his birthday, though the fighting didn’t stop. Luke was starting to wonder if Jordan could survive without regularly making snarky or sarcastic comments. Still, the newfound closeness had been… nice. Luke wasn’t entirely sure how to categorize it, especially alongside the feelings he was certain he had for Julie.

As he sat across from Jordan, close enough that their knees were touching as they worked through some rhythms on a new song, Luke found that he wasn’t certain of anything. Jordan felt like a magnet- he realized belatedly that she always had- constantly pulling him closer and closer no matter how much either of them tried to pull away. He was starting to wonder if learning metaphors at book club was really a good thing.

“Hey Luke, can I ask you about something?” Julie pipped up from the entryway of the garage, pulling him away from his thoughts and Jordan.

“Sure, what’s up?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow quizzically.

“Oh, um, actually can we talk outside?” She asked and he furrowed his brow but nodded, setting down his guitar and jogging over to where she stood by the doors.

“This is gonna sound weird but can I ask why Jordan was with you at your house the other day?” Julie asked unsurely once they were outside and Luke froze, not expecting the question.

“How’d you…?” He trailed off, peering at the girl suspiciously. He hadn’t told anyone that he made frequent visits to his house, though he suspected the guys knew and Jordan had figured it out on his birthday.

“Alex and Reggie took me…” Julie said, tucking her hair behind her ear embarrassedly. “After I called you selfish and said you didn’t care about anyone but yourself…”

“That’s ironic coming from you, Miss Boundaries,” he scoffed irritatedly, brows furrowed in anger and Julie sighed.

“I’m really sorry Luke, it was wrong.”

“But now you wanna snoop even more,” he frowned, raising his brows as if to say ‘seriously?’

Julie opened her mouth to defend herself but Luke cut her off with a sigh before answering her question.

“If you must know, Jordan and I have spent every birthday together since we were five, I guess she figured I could use the comfort and familiarity.” He shrugged, trying to downplay how much the gesture had meant to him. It’s been really difficult, grieving his loss of his parents while they grieved him even twenty-five years later. At least when he was a runaway there was still always the possibility of reconciliation. Now there never would be.

“That’s really thoughtful,” Julie said, “But it doesn’t make sense. You guys hate each other, what happened?”

“Oh, we always have,” he smirked to himself, remembering that first day they met. He’d found a massive spider in the yard and thought it would be funny to put it in her hair, obviously, she hadn’t felt the same and the rest was history. “But our parents really wanted us to be friends so… birthday parties.”

“That explains a lot, actually,” Julie nodded thoughtfully and now it was Luke’s turn to be confused, tilting his head in a silent request for the girl to explain. “You guys have these moments where you like, exude this closeness that totally doesn’t fit the nature of your relationship. It makes sense now, knowing how long you’ve known each other.”

“I mean, there was a point where we were basically the closest thing to family each other had,” Luke shrugged, thinking about those last five months in the studio. “Guess we forgot about that when we died.”

They’d grow inexplicably close in those months that they’d lived together. It was an unspoken closeness, neither of them dared to acknowledge it but Luke saw it often in the little things. They’d stopped calling each other names when it was just them in the garage and sometimes when he was stuck on a new song he was writing she’d shout out suggestions from across the room. It was like they’d called an unconscious truce in their grief but when they came back as ghosts that all disappeared, the two immediately back at each others’ throats.

When Luke returned to the studio after his conversation with Julie it had sort of felt like the same thing had happened again. He’d thought he was finally making headway with Jordan, that they’d finally started back on the path to friendship after his birthday, or maybe even something more, and while things hadn’t totally changed, they felt different somehow.

She’d stopped hanging out with him in her free time. Instead, she spent the time holed up in the corners of the studio with her notebook or sitting behind the piano or her guitar, playing or strumming as she hummed softly. Luke wanted to help her out or tell her she sounded beautiful but he couldn’t help but notice how secretive she was being. They’d been working on songs together recently but this one she seemed determined to keep to herself.

When he entered the studio one afternoon to find her notebook on the couch, completely unguarded he couldn’t help himself. He blamed his overwhelming curiosity for why he picked it up despite knowing first-hand how sacred a song journal was.

When he found the partially written song at the back of the notebook he sucked in a breath, chest filling with hope at the lyrics on the page. It wasn’t much, only one verse and a chorus and what looked like half a pre-chorus but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was about him.

[Verse ?]

Bored of games why do you still play?

Back and forth, it’s always the same

You’re player one, I’m player two, who is she, player who?

Roll the dice and make your way

Pre-chorus

I know I’m hard but that’s part of it

You could leave but you are still here

and I’ve nowhere to go but ???

His mind whirled as he tried to work it out for himself. It screamed jealousy to him. She’d started writing after he’d had his conversation with Julie, so it wasn’t an unreasonable guess that he was “you” and Julie was “she.” She was jealous of him and Julie. But was it platonic? Was it more than that?

He was pretty sure he’d lost his damn mind in the hurricane of questions racing through his brain. It was the only explanation for the pure stupidity of what he did next.

“Moss, what’s this?” He asked when she found him with her notebook. Then he started to read off the chorus,

“I’m selfish, I’m selfish, I’m selfish

when it comes to you.

I can’t help it, can’t help it

crazy things that I do.”

“Give it back,” she snapped, cheeks flushing in what he later recognized as a mix of embarrassment and anger but at the time his brain ignored entirely, too caught up in an unthought-out attempt to confront her feelings.

“When I need you I come back to you.

I’m selfish, I’m selfish

when it comes to you.”

“I’m serious, Patterson. You don’t see me poking around in your notebook,” Jordan argued, grabbing hold of the notebook but not pulling it out of his hands.

“You don’t see me leaving my notebook lying around.” His body and his mouth were moving on autopilot but without a GPS as he responded cheekily, letting go of the notebook. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his rational brain was screaming at him to shut up but he just kept talking. “Who’s it about?”

“None of your business.”

Though his brain was on a self-destructive warpath, he couldn’t help but notice how adorable Jordan looked hugging the notebook to her chest protectively. Though, the adorableness factor was negated slightly by the death glare in her eyes.

“I think it’s about me,” he announced smugly, leaning back against the couch haughtily as if daring her to contradict him.

What the hell are you doing, man?

“I think you’re a dumbass,” she spat, and just like that she was gone, poofing away.

He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands with a groan as he realized what he did.

For the next day and a half, he could feel how the atmosphere between them had grown frigid. He’d tried to apologize a few times but every time he got close she would poof away, clearly not wanting to hear from him. What interactions they did have in those couple days were short and snide, laced with venom and insults. The behavior didn’t seem out of the ordinary to the rest of the group, but to Luke, it felt like he’d just stepped from the warm beach into ice-cold water and it was all his fault.

Luke was on the brink of losing his mind again when he went out on a limb that night. He, Alex, and Reggie were about to go out exploring like they did most nights after all the lifers went to sleep and he really wasn’t keen on leaving Jordan in the studio to stew in her anger.

“C’mon, Moss, we’re going exploring!” he called up to the loft. Deciding he’d given her enough space, it was time for ambush mode.

“And why would I want to go anywhere with you?” She called back venomously, not even deigning to come to the railing of the loft or poof down to speak to him face-to-face.

He sighed, clenching his eyes shut briefly before exhaling heavily and speaking.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” He called back, wishing he wasn’t doing this in front of Reggie and Alex. “I shouldn’t have gone through your notebook, it was a dick move.”

Luke was surprised at how quickly she forgave him, poofing down only moments after he apologized. He stared at her surprise, his body more relaxed now that she was spending time with them again. He hoped Alex and Reggie weren’t watching him, afraid they might somehow see the pure relief and adoration that he felt for her. Maybe he was being dramatic, but he swore he stopped breathing when she finally turned to look at her. He was totally screwed.

___

The next morning was quiet, though it felt like everything had gone back to normal. Jordan was sprawled across the couch which Luke had stopped trying to claim possession over, it was his couch but at this point, it might as well have been hers. Alex was sitting across from him making a friendship bracelet that he secretly hoped was for him but thought might’ve been for Willie, and Luke was reading his book. Things were really starting to pick up in the characters’ quest and he was apparently so invested that he barely recognized Reggie’s arrival until he heard the word “gig.”

Just like that he was on his feet along with Jordan and Alex, quest entirely forgotten as they all started blurting out questions.

“Where?”

“When?’

“How?”

Reggie excitedly explained how they were having a garage party at the house so that their band could perform and Ray and some of his colleagues would record them professionally for the band’s YouTube. Then Reggie patiently explained what a YouTube was and Luke briefly wondered when he’d learned more about modern technology than the rest of them. He supposed Julie did give him that iPod.

“We’re gonna record a music video? Like on MTV?” He exclaimed excitedly after Reggie had explained.

“Yes, dude! And Julie says if we get enough views we could go big!”

Luke gaped at his three bandmates, trying to come up with a vocalization for the thoughts flying through his head. All of a sudden there was a lot at stake for this event, the whole world would be able to see their performance. It had to be perfect. They needed to practice, hell they needed to pick a song.

He needed to talk to Julie.

When he reappeared in the school hallway he realized he probably should’ve told the group where he was going but it was too late now.

“What’re you doing here?” Julie asked him after getting over the initial shock of his sudden appearance.

“We need to talk about what song we’re gonna play tonight,” Luke said excitedly, grinning at the girl. “I was thinking Great?”

Julie held up a finger to signal she needed a moment before pulling out her phone.

“Wait seriously? You’re just gonna take a call while we’re talking? That’s so rude!”

Julie rolled her eyes at his dramatics before explaining, “Otherwise people might think I’m talking to myself.”

“Right, nice, okay,” Luke nodded, impressed by her quick thinking.

It was strange to be back in a high school hallway after so long, chatting with a cute girl by the lockers. The thought immediately brought the image of Jordan. Wow, he was really screwed.

“But yeah, I think Great is a… great choice,” Julie answered his question and he nodded, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, sweet! Well, that was pretty much all I wanted to talk to you about so…”

“Oh! Okay,” Julie said, surprised.

“Actually wait- I wanted to talk to you about Jordan,” He started. He knew he and Julie had something between them but with these rising feelings about Jordan he’d been experiencing he didn’t want to lead her on. “Look, I, uh, I don’t really know how to say this but-“

“You have a crush on Jordan!” Julie gasped, effectively cutting him off.

His cheeks turned red and he scratched the back of his neck embarrassedly.

“Yeah- I mean, I don’t know but…”

“But you don’t want to hurt me,” Julie finished and Luke raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Wow, you are really perceptive Molina,” he said and she smiled.

“You don’t have to worry about me-“

“Sorry, my Patterson Idiocy Meter was going off,” Jordan explained as she suddenly appeared beside him, effectively putting an end to his conversation with Julie. “It lets me know when he’s doing something especially stupid.”

Luke rolled his eyes at the comment, sticking his tongue out petulantly at the girl and Julie gave him a knowing smile.

“Anyway,” Luke said dramatically, rerouting the conversation and turning back to Julie. “I was thinking, you should just ditch school today and come rehearse with us.”

He probably should’ve anticipated both girls’ protests but he still found himself trying to rationalize what he knew was a bad idea.

“Right, you were at school first, and now you’re leaving to go rehearse.”

“Stop trying to persuade her to do bad things!” Jordan chastised him, smacking his shoulder lightly.

“I really can’t. Plus I promised Nick I’d be his dance partner…” Julie explained, and Luke noticed Jordan wiggling her eyebrows at the mention of the name. He was clearly missing something.

“…and he’s heading this way,” Julie finished, pretending to hang up the phone in favor of talking to the blond-haired boy who just walked up.

“Well don’t you look sharp!” Julie’s reaction to his teasing told him all he needed to know about her feelings and the boy was not being sly about his at all. “Uh-oh, I think somebody’s got a crush on Julie!”

He couldn’t help it. It’s the designated role of all close friends to make fun of each other for their crushes. He knew by the way Julie had reacted when he’d told her about his (well, tried to tell her) that she was never going to let him hear the end of it. So, he dove right into it, mimicking Nick’s motions and facial expressions all with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh he is just too cute,” he teased when the blond lifer finally walked away.

“Boundaries,” Julie reminded him with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll see you after school.”

She began walking away towards her class but Luke wasn’t ready to end the conversation.

“Fine! I guess we’ll just have to carry you tonight, just like we always do!” He called down the hallway and he could see Julie shake her head slightly in exasperation. “I know you’re smiling, Molina!”

“Shut up, Luke,” Jordan rolled her eyes, smacking his chest lightly and he sent her a cheeky grin. “Good luck Julie! You’ll do great!” She called after the girl and Luke awed internally at the support.

“Yeah! Kill it on the dance floor!” He joined in, shuffling smoothly across the floor as he yelled.

“Dork,” he heard Jordan mutter and he snapped towards her, feigning upset despite how pleased he was at the attention he was getting.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta get rehearsing,” he spoke, brushing off the dramatics but she waved him off.

“I’ll be right there.”

He frowned, wanting her to come with him but he poofed away anyway, landing back in the garage between Reggie and Alex.

They immediately got to work, Luke walking them through Great. He felt bad doing it without Jordan since it was really her and Julie’s song more than anything, but he really wanted them to sound as best as they could. It was her song and they needed to do it justice.

They’d only just gotten through the basic structure and Jordan’s plans for the song, which she’d scribbled into the margins of his notebook pages while they worked on it together, when they were interrupted by a face in the window.

“Again? What’s all that about?” Reggie asked when Willie’s face disappeared from view, the boy clearly knowing he’d been caught.

Luke shrugged in response, just as lost as the rest but Alex stood, seemingly determined to get answers this time as he poofed out.

Despite their typical itch to snoop, the two boys gave Willie and Alex their privacy, instead moving over to their respective instruments to tune and warm up while they waited.

Luke could tell something was off when Alex returned but the blond-haired ghost had gone straight for his drumset, insisting that they start rehearsing. So, Luke didn’t push it, until about halfway through the song Alex got a little too into his drums, no longer playing along.

“Alex are you alright?” He asked sincerely once he’d stopped playing.

“Yeah... yeah, why?” Alex asked, trying to brush it off but Luke and Reggie had already connected the dots.

Alex only ever played like that when he was upset and since he was in a good mood before Willie showed up, it wasn’t difficult to figure out.

“I know it’s tough man. People say you never forget your first ghost.” Reggie spike sympathetically, “but... I’m sure there will be others.”

“Yeah, thanks Reg,” Alex nodded and Luke stepped forward, clutching his guitar strap as if to brace himself. He wasn’t very good at expressing things outside of music.

“Yeah, and Alex, you’re a great drummer and a great guy, okay?” He said, leaning onto the drumset slightly as he spoke. “I wouldn’t let all that stuff get in between you and what you love.”

Alex nodded and Luke finally noticed Jordan’s presence in the studio. He’d started to take steps in her direction to ask when she’d gotten there when Reggie spoke up again.

“I don’t know, sometimes a little fire onstage can make things better,” he said suggestively and Luke froze in the center of the band setup. “Like you and Julie.”

His head immediately snapped towards Jordan, trying to gauge her reaction to the statement. He was already certain she thought there was something between him and Julie, she’d written a whole song out of jealousy after all, but he needed her to know that wasn’t true.

“Uh, what... what is that supposed to mean?” Luke asked, trying to play innocent and hoping Reggie would get the hint and back off.

“C’mon, everyone can see the way you look at her when you sing,” Reggie chuckled, clearly not understanding. “You guys ooze chemistry.”

“Please never say ooze again,” Alex said to Reggie before turning to Luke, “But you have to agree he’s right.”

“No, no.” Luke denied vehemently, chancing another nervous glance at Jordan only to find she had become suddenly very interested in her shoes. “I have chemistry with everyone I sing with.”

It felt like a reasonable excuse to him, and it wasn’t exactly wrong. He did have chemistry when he sang with people, but it wasn’t because of the person, it was because of the music. Still, Reggie and Alex gave him looks of disbelief and he huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, watch,” he said, taking a determined step towards Jordan. Sure he was trying to prove a point to the guys, but maybe he could prove something else to himself and Jordan.

Still, before he could even take another step she stopped him.

“You’d better take that step back,” she demanded, not even looking up from the floor and his heart sank.  

He shook it off with a sigh, still determined to prove his point to the guys. So he turned on his heel, confidently stepping towards Reggie as he began to sing.

“I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be.” When he got close enough, he slipped his hand around the back of the bassist‘s neck, pulling their faces even closer together. “That we’re standing on the edge of… great.”

He winked at the boy when he finished and stepped back, watching with a smirk as Reggie gulped. Mission accomplished.

“Wow,” Alex remarked, “I see chemistry.”

“Yeah, that was pretty hot,” Reggie admitted, voice cracking as he spoke.

Riding on the high of his success, Luke took it one step further, kissing two of his fingers before placing them on Reggie’s lips. When he heard a giggle from behind him he whirled around to grin at Jordan, elated that he could turn her mood around. She rolled her eyes in response but he didn’t care. He was starting to think maybe they were a sign of endearment from her with how much she did it.  

“Girls, amiright?” Reggie croaked out and Luke chuckled.

“Yeah,” he agreed and Alex quickly chimed in.

“No,” the drummer said definitively with a light chuckle.

Jordan barked out a laugh at that, poofing over to the drummer to give him a high five before poofing back to the front of the band setup. Luke shook his head at that, ducking his head to hide his smile as he slipped his guitar strap back across his body.

Practice went smoothly after that, though Jordan and Reggie insisted on messing around until Julie got there. He felt kinda lonely with Jordan now hanging out on Reggie’s side of the setup but it was worth it to see her smile and hear her laughter. He didn’t even have the heart to tell them to take this practice seriously since they had a performance tonight. When the hell did he become so whipped for a girl he wasn’t even sure liked him back?

He couldn’t begrudge them their fun, even screwing around Jordan and Reggie were some of the best musicians he knew and it was obvious when Julie got there. They only had an hour of true, focused rehearsal with the whole group yet it sounded amazing. Still, Luke was nervous. If he’d had his way, they would’ve practice until it was perfect but he knew that wasn’t reasonable.

Luke was bummed when Jordan left to get ready in Julie’s room. He figured they needed their “girl time” or whatever but- though he’d never say it out loud- watching Jordan do her makeup had become part of his pre-performance routine and he was a bit fascinated by the whole ordeal. Instead, he spent the time leading up to their performance reading his book or talking with Alex and Reggie.

Luke’s nerves didn’t present themselves outwardly as much as Jordan’s did. It was something he’d noticed back when they’d both started performing. When Jordan got nervous she moved, flicking and shaking her hands, bouncing in place, anything to stop her standing still. Luke, on the other hand, internalized his nerves. He would become uncharacteristically quiet the closer he got. When he first started performing for crowds his hands would tremble, something he’d had to figure out how to counteract pretty quickly because it’s really hard to play the guitar with shaky hands.

Still, pre-performance nerves were when his insecurities popped up the most so when he looked up and saw Jordan, Alex, and Reggie all holding hands in the garage while Julie started the song, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He probably looked like a kicked puppy but he felt like one. His bandmates had left him out of something.

As if reading his thoughts, Jordan reached her hand out to him in a silent invitation to join whatever pre-show ritual they’d started without his knowledge. As soon as he took her hand he understood why they did it: silent solidarity. A small but strong reminder that they were in this together. Then Jordan squeezed his hand lightly, giving him just enough time to squeeze back before they were poofing onstage, well, onto the driveway.

Julie and Jordan were electric in center stage and all five of them were sounding great (no pun intended). Everything was going perfectly until Luke nodded his head at Jordan, silently asking her to come share his mic but she pointedly ignored him. Luke furrowed his brow in confusion as she angled her body away from him as she picked up the next verse.

Maybe it was a mistake, he thought, trying it again as he and Julie joined her vocals.

“Sometimes we gotta lean, lean on someone else to get a little help until we find a way,” they sang together, and Luke frowned slightly. Those lines had always made him think of Jordan, especially after his birthday and it hurt extra that she was ignoring him.

He tried to ignore the stab of jealousy he felt when she moved to the other side of the setup to sing to Alex by focusing on the music and singing with Reggie but it didn’t fully work. He still wanted her attention and he wanted to know why he wasn’t getting it.

His wounded puppy eyes were fully intact when he stepped up beside where Julie crouched on the piano to play his guitar solo. She gave him a sympathetic smile before shrugging lightly, seemingly understanding why he was upset but also unaware as to why he was being shunned. It made him feel a bit better, at least he wasn’t the only one in the dark. As the section came to an end he noticed her eyes flicking out to the crowd and followed them, spotting a familiar blond. He sent her a teasing wink as he hit the last note and she stood fully on the piano in what was a truly epic moment. That girl was a performer through and through.

He slid back to his microphone behind the piano, still hurt but pushing it aside to finish out the performance. Now really wasn’t the time to get lost in speculation and self-pity.

He was surprised when he and the guys returned to invisibility only to see Jordan still out there, singing and playing along with Julie. It was clearly a beautiful and emotional moment for the two and he wondered when they’d planned it. Still, that wasn’t his first question when he finally got time to talk to the ghost girl.

“Hey, so, how come you were ignoring me out there?” He asked her after the lifers had evacuated the driveway.

Reggie and Alex were playing some basketball on the hoop hanging from the garage door while Jordan was perched on the ledge at the end of the driveway, scribbling into her notebook.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, looking up to stare at him in confusion.

“During the performance… I wanted you to come sing with me…” he spoke, leaving pauses in hopes that she’d catch on and put him out of his misery but she never did. “C’mon Moss, I did the head nod and everything!”

“Those were for me?” She exclaimed, looking at him like he’d lost his mind, “I thought you were trying to get Julie!”

He felt the relief wash over him with those words. So it was just a simple misunderstanding.

The relief was short-lived, however, as the four of them were suddenly struck through with another jolt, sending the three guys sprawling to the ground and Jordan doubling over.

“Jesus fuck,” he heard Jordan curse as she clutched her chest and he groaned in agreement, pushing himself off the cement.

“That wasn’t like the other ones,” he said, “It’s getting worse.”

“Why is this happening to us?” Reggie asked, still bent over as he recovered.

“It’s because you guys are in serious trouble,” Willie answered, nervously approaching the four ghosts. “We need to talk.”

They all nodded in agreement, silently moving together before Willie poofed them to Hollywood.

They followed him along the Walk of Fame as he explained all about how Caleb’s stamp was the reason the jolts kept happening. That he’d stamped them to force them to work for him because they were too powerful.

“So, if we don’t join his club, the weird power outage thing continues until there’s no power left at all?” Reggie asked, crossing his arms over his chest nervously.

“Yes,” Willie answered, not meeting any of their eyes.

“What exactly happens when the power goes out?”

“That’s… that’s it. You’re done.”

Luke heard Jordan suck in a breath beside him, freezing in her tracks and the rest of the group slowed to a halt.

“Yeah, what do you mean by ‘we’re done?’” Reggie asked the question none of them wanted to hear the answer to.

“You just… you don’t exist… anymore. Not anywhere.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jordan slap a hand over her mouth as if to cover up a sob. He knew she was thinking about her parents, how she’d never see them again because of this and his blood began to boil.

“So what, we have to give up everything and work for Caleb for eternity?” He spat angrily, “That’s some club you guys got going on.”

He took a step back, reaching down discretely to grab Jordan’s hand, hoping to provide her with any kind of comfort and support.

“But there is another way,” Willie explained, “That’s why I’m here.”

“Another option?” Alex asked skeptically.

“Just please, hear me out.” Willie pleaded, and Luke shared a look with the other guys. “Alright. If you guys could figure out what your unfinished business is, you do it in time, you could cross over and be free from all of this.”

“Okay, so what’s our unfinished business?” Luke asked, squeezing Jordan’s hand reassuringly. He’d figure it out just for her.

“I don’t know,” Willie said. “But since you all died at the same time it could be something you all have to do together.”

Luke’s mind began whirling, trying to figure out what it could be. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely registered Willie departing, or Alex and Reggie talking.

“We have to figure out our unfinished business,” he insisted, finally joining in on the conversation.

“Yeah, man, and how are we supposed to do that? Alright?” Alex asked frustratedly. “There was so much we wanted to do.”

The combination of Alex’s words and him noticing the sign in the background brought upon Luke’s epiphany.

“Yeah, but the night we died, there was only one thing we wanted to do together,” he explained, pointing towards the Orpheum sign with his free hand.

Part 11

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayennefertyrell

Sunset Swerve Taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @angryknightstatesmantrash @onlygetaway @deni-gonzalez @advicefromnixxxx @brooke0297 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @cordeliascrown

#jatp #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fic #luke patterson #luke patterson fic #luke patterson x oc #luke jatp #jatp luke #julie molina #jatp alex #alex mercer #nick jatp #jatp nick #reggie peters #jatp reggie #sunset curve #sunset swerve

[forever-rogue]

Honey & Velvet - Part 1

Summary: Ruthless CEO Max Lord is about to meet his biggest match yet in another CEO such as cunning and biting as he can be. 

A/N: Yeah, I couldn’t help myself and I’m complete trash for anything Pedro does. So here we are. I don’t know many parts this will be yet either, at least several. If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know, and as always, feedback and comments are always welcome! xx

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Max Lord (he comes with his own warning); masturbation/mild smut (18+ only!!); language

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9 | PART 10

MASTERLIST

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"Is there a reason you're staring at my tits, Mr. Lord?" you raised an eyebrow across the long conference table as every head snapped your direction. Twirling your pen in your fingers, you waited a few moments for a reason, any sort of explanation, but none met your ears. Just a few quiet comments exchanged by some of the others sitting near you.

Tossing the pen down with a satisfied smile, you leaned back in your chair, letting a loud creak echo through the room, "no? If that's the case, I suggest we get back to the matters at hand. I don't want to spend all evening here. And I'll remind you all, my eyes are up here, not down here."

Max gripped his pen so tightly he was surprised it didn't snap in two and break. Bringing a hand to his face, he tried to hide the scowl and flush that creeping into his cheeks at your accusations. They weren't unfounded, but he didn't need you to point that to everyone at table. How dare you embarrass him in his own office in front of all these businessmen?

You could feel him staring at you on and off throughout the rest of the meeting, but he remained silent. You could see him scribbling a few notes down, practically hear the gears turning in his head. It was hard to avoid looking over at him, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of meeting his eyes again. You settled for a victorious little grin instead, making a point to give whoever you were speaking to your full attention, leaning over in way that made just enough of your cleavage display. 

As soon as the meeting concluded, Maxwell was the first one out of the room, not bothering to say anything to anyone as he stormed back to his personal office, ignoring calls of his name from his employees. He needed to calm down before he was anymore harsh than normal, and right now he could only think of one way. The straining in his pants caused directly by you could only be alleviated by one thing, and right now it was all he could think about.

Tossing his notepad and pen absentmindedly onto his desk, Max made sure the door to the over the top, extravagant office was locked and palmed himself over his trousers, a small sound, somewhere between a moan and a hiss escaped his lips. Undoing the button and fly of his pants he quickly tugged them down, pulling his hardened length out of his briefs. He let out a small sound at the relief of being free from the confines of tight pants. Closing his dark eyes, almost black due to his arousal, he ran his hand over his length, gathering a few beads of precum that had already dribbled out of his tip and spread it over his cock. He knew he wouldn’t last long, and while he worked himself, he imagined it was your mouth around him, rather than his hand. How he wished he could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, maybe then you would have shut up for a moment. 

The singular thought of you around his cock was enough to cause him to thrust wildly into his hand and he bit down on his bottom lip in order to keep from making any sounds as he came and spilled his seed all over his hand. 

Flopping down in his chair, he allowed himself to catch his breath for a moment before grabbing a silk handkerchief from his desk drawer and cleaning himself up. He kept a small stack of monogrammed handkerchiefs in there for just such an occasion; usually they were used to clean up the whatever girl he was fucking that week. 

As he came down from his high, a loud knock came at his door and he quickly scrambled to throw the piece of soft fabric into the drawer and slam it shut, tucking his still sensitive cock back into his pants. After a few beats of rushed silence, the knock came again and he let out an annoyed sound, “hold on!”

Max looked at himself in the mirror, ornate and over the top, because what else would be in his office, straightening his blonde locks before striding over to the door. He cleared his throat and before opening the door slowly and finding himself face to face with none other than you.

“Mr. Lord,” you beamed at him, your ruby red lips pulled in a perfect smile. Of course, he internally groaned to himself, you would show up now, almost like you could tell he’d just been fantasizing about you. You’d purposefully left the top few buttons of your blouse undone, your blazer draped over your arm as you looked him up and down. You noticed that he was slightly out of his breath, a few locks of hair out of place, “is this a bad time?”

“No,” he barked, making it a point to focus on your eyes and not let them roam all over your body, “what do you want, Y/N?”

“Hmm,” you made a small amused sound, noting that he pointedly your name rolled off of his tongue, “most people refer to me as Miss L/N, but I suppose I’ll overlook that.”

“If we’re going to be working so closely together, I don’t see the need for formalities,” gods, you were already pushing each and every one of his buttons, “unless that’s a problem for you?”

“Lack of formalities is not a problem,” you answered, “but lack of respect is. Do you have a problem with me, Max? Is there a reason you don’t seem to respect me like you do all of our male colleagues?”

“I have no qualms with working with you or any woman,” it was only a half lie. He much preferred working with men, but could deal working with women. He usually reserved that for the bedroom, however, we they working under him. That was his preference in the work place as well. He was the one in charge and he made sure people knew that.

“I see,” you gave him a slight nod, narrowing your eyes to make sure he knew that you didn’t quite believe him. You’d heard enough about him from others in the business, and the tabloids to know exactly what type of man he was, “then next time we’re in a meeting maybe you could show me some respect? And not just oogle me like I’m some piece of meat.”

“Your accusations are wholly unfounded-”

“Are they?” you countered, hiking your bag further up your shoulder, frustrated with him already. You had come to his office in the vain hope that you could have a civil conversation with him, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. He really was, at least so far, what everyone was saying about him.

“If you’ve come here to try and get me to admit to something I didn’t do,” he pursed his lips and gave you a cocky smile, “then you’re wasting your time. If you’ve come here to try and annoy me, you’ve succeeded.”

“You really are everything they say, aren’t you?” you forced yourself to put on a smile as sweet as honey as you watched him closely. If he thought he was going to break you down or instill some sort of fear in you, he was sorely mistaken. You hadn’t made your way to the top, to be the CEO of your own company, by bowing down to men like him. No, you tore down men like him, and left them begging you for mercy.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, he reached up and grabbed your jaw and forcing you to look directly in his face. He gained a small sense of satisfaction knowing that was the hand that been covered in his own cum moments before you had shown up.

“Just what do they say about me little girl?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. You weren’t even going to deny that it send a warm shiver down your spine; a sensation that you were reluctant to give into, “tell me.”

“That you’re a ruthless businessman,” you admitted, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from your face, “who doesn’t respect anyone but himself. An over-privileged trust fund baby who is used to getting whatever he wants, and doesn’t like people challenging him.”

“And what do you think?” 

“I think that they’re right,” you shrugged innocently, trying to keep your voice from becoming laced with too much venom. After all, you always attracted more flies with honey rather than vinegar, “but I also think you’re just a scared man. You don’t like to lose control, you don’t like anyone else having any sort of power. You don’t like women having power over you. And you particularly don’t like me. Please, tell me if I’m wrong.”

He chuckled, a dark sound that would have scared most other people, but not you. It only made your resolve to break him down stronger. You weren’t about to let this arrogant asshole hold any sort of power over you. He licked his lips as his deep, velvet brown eyes stared into yours, “I don’t have to convince you of anything. I know who I am, and what I’m capable of. And I’m not about to let some bitch like you boss me around with whatever little power you have.”

You tried to hide the surprise on your face at his cold tone, your hand itching to slap him across the face, letting your shiny, manicured nails leave scratches across his cheek. Instead, you remained silent, keeping your face neutral as you let the words hang thickly in the air. After a few moments of silence, you rolled your eyes at him, “are you finished with your little tirade?”

“Excuse me?”

“You do realize that I’m in the same position of power as you, correct?” you asked sweetly, “and that your weak little attempts to scare me aren’t going to work. I’ve dealt with men like you my whole life, starting with my own father, and none of them have managed to break me. And neither will you, Mr. Lord. Your company needs mine, so if you want to keep our agreement going, you’d do well to show me some respect. If that’s too hard for you, I recommend we dissolve our little venture here and now. So, what’s it going to be?”

Max remained silent as he mulled over your words. People never spoke to him like this, especially not a woman like you. He knew your story, knew that you didn’t come from a background like his. He admired that you had climbed your way up from the very bottom to being at the top, but he’d be hard pressed to admit that. He’d never give you the satisfaction. 

“If you’re done pretending to be a big girl now, you can go,” he leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest, looking like the essence of calm and cool, “if you think you’re going to come into my building, my office, and try to boss me around, you’re sorely mistaken. You’re just some little girl, thinking she can run with the big boys. You’re not cut out for this sweetheart, so you might as well learn some respect for your superiors.”

That was the moment you decided that you hated him. Those words were dripping in spite and anger, and you really, really, wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face. But you decided not to do anything, instead, you’d let him go on thinking he had the upper hand. He would be his downfall, and you’d be right there to laugh at him in the end. 

“I guess I should be going,” you deadpanned as you turned to leave. You could feel his gaze immediately fall onto your backside, “I’ll see you around, Mr. Lord.”

He made no sound as you turned to leave, but you couldn’t help but press your luck even further, “next time you decide to...have some fun in your office, you might want to clean up a little better. Your poor trousers are absolutely ruined.”

His eyes widened as he looked down at his crotch and internally cursed himself when he saw that there was indeed a wet spot on the front. He thought he had been so careful, so slick, but apparently he was more like a horny teenager than anything else. You shot him a cheeky wink, “I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, those pants were so last season.”

With that you decided to leave before anything else happened or he somehow completely snapped. It wasn’t much to leave on, but it was better than nothing.

But Max just couldn’t leave it, no, that was not in his nature. Instead, he watched the sway of your hips, admiring how your ass looked in the perfectly fitted skirt you had decided to wear. Just before you reached the end of the hall to enter the elevator, he called to you, “I do respect women, Miss L/N. Just usually when they’re directly under me.”

You stiffened at his words, willing yourself not to turn around and indulge him in another verbal showdown, instead focusing on buttons and pressing the elevator call button rapidly. Annoyance was flowing through every fiber of your being.

When the elevator finally came and you got in, you pressed the button for the bottom floor and let out a sigh of relief. As you leaned against the cool metal, relief against your warm skin, you peeked to see if Max was still there, just as the doors were closing. He was. And he was staring right at you, an unreadable expression on his face. It was dark, menacing, evil even, but something about it went right to the growing ache being your legs.

When you got home that night, you discarded your clothes rapidly, leaving them in a trail to your bathroom as you turned on the shower and stepped inside. You turned the water as high as it could go to, hoping to scrub every bit of Maxwell Lord off of you. 

But you’d never, ever, admit you only did so after you touched yourself to the thought of him. The thought of him between your legs, getting you off with only his mouth. The thought of him taking you in his office, bent over his desk as he fucked you mercilessly. 

You tried to refrain from whimpering out as his name as you came all over your hand, pretending it was his own, wishing it was his, but it was no use. It was sad, pathetic even, how desperate he had made you, despite how much you loathed him.

Maxwell Lord would be the death of you. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#max lord #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #ww84 #ww84 fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #reader insert #max lord x reader

[leerongrong]

of princesses and amortentia.

Pairing: Lee Jeno x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: In which you’re Slytherin’s princess and you get paired up with Gryffindor’s golden boy, Lee Jeno, for potions class. [Hogwarts AU]

Requested: yes!! Can I ask for a promt pleasee. 2. 2. 2/5/19/38 The boy is up for your choice, thank you ♥️♥️ 

Note: @neoculturalshit​ i stressed over this for 2 days ahgshash. i present to you, for her highness’ late birthday gift ♡ also yes, this time both nana and hyuck make an appearance,, dont drag me for it😤

Cracking fire with mixed in enchantment spells are the main sounds coming from the common room while hallways are silent, littered with nothing but the sounds of Madam Filtch’s meowing cat. The courtyard is filled to the brim with spectators from all houses, suspense in the air as two houses battle against each other for victory.

Slytherin is up against Gryffindor today. The final match of the season being the spectacle for other students to watch, rooting for their houses and making bets on who would win while you’re prancing in the Slytherin chamber, hands wrapped so tightly around your wand it would break. Your brother, Jaemin, is slumped on the couch, eyes following you with a smirk painted on his lips. He’s in nothing but his common clothes, having ditched all his classes for the day in favor of “very important work,” which so happens to be sleeping on the couch while listening to the venomous words dripping down your lips.

”Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck.”

“Ooh, careful princess.” Jaemin’s words are playfully sweet in contrast to the deep voice he has, the thing that has all of Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors alike down on their knees for him, his infamous charms even rivaling that of his parseltongue. “You’re going to put me and our great, great, great grandpa Salazar Slytherin to shame.”

“Besides,“ Jaemin fake pouts, “Shouldn’t princesses be sweet, charming and dignified? I expect the same from Slytherin’s own princess.”

Spells come flying out from your wands onto each other, harmless enough to not put you into too much trouble yet scorching when one hits the skin. The screams from outside are hard to ignore and one rattles your concentration, a rogue spell barreling towards Jaemin, one which he happens to avoid just in time for it to only burn of a bit of his hair. Fireworks go off in the air as you turn your head to see Gryffindor’s star quidditch player, Lee Jeno, with a Golden Snitch in his hand.

“You should’ve played.“ You scoff at Jaemin when you see the boy with a mischievous smile on his face, hands flying to the back of his head, a satisfying smack coming from it when your palm lands on its target. “We would’ve won if Slytherin’s ‘star player’ had played.”

Your eyes are back on the field, teeth clenching when you catch sight of Jeno, the boy smiling and being tossed into the air by his team while they celebrate a win. Lee Jeno is Gryffindor’s golden boy, a direct descendant from one of the most brilliant wizards of the time, Godric Gryffindor. You’ve never met the boy in person but from the start of the school year, people have put you and his friend circles against each other, causing a natural brewing competitiveness and although you’d never say it out loud, you wondered what it would be like to be friends with them.

Lee Jeno’s circle of friends are those of an odd pack; with Mark lee, the naturally clumsy but brave senior. Huang Renjun, the hot headed and fire spitting dragon trainer and Park Jisung, the shy but incredibly talented quidditch junior who’s expected to take over for Jeno. Then comes Lee Jeno himself, excelling at charms, potions, ancient runes, and especially, quidditch. Talents clear as day as he does have Gryffindor’s blood running in his veins.

Then there’s you and Jaemin. Slytherin’s prince and princess, named after your ancestor and for the blood that is running in your veins. All your life, you’ve been branded as special and different, your parents strictly raising you both to be valued heirs of your family, something you nor Jaemin wanted. Even from the start of your year, the two of you had been famous, other Slytherins coming to tag for a spot in your circle, until Lee Donghyuck came in. Cunning, Quick witted, Resourceful and very talented in Dark Arts, the epitome of what a Slytherin truly is.

“You good for nothing, always looking for trouble- Na Jaemin!”

The roaring crowds from outside fades into the background when the room’s gigantic double gates burst open to reveal a steaming Donghyuck with his hands still wrapped around his broomstick, a sign he came running over after the game finished.

“What’s up, pal?” Jaemin’s hands are raised in mock defeat the moment Donghyuck grabs him by his collar, a scream pulled out of his throat when Donghyuck raises his broomstick and whacks Jaemin’s head with it. It’s always a pleasure to watch the two quarrel, something that always brings a smile to your face ever since the two first met. The bond the three of you have is unique, something you didn’t think you’d find in Hogwarts.

“You have the emotional capacity of a brick!” Donghyuck is sheeting, his normally tidy uniform is a wreck and his hair looks windswept from his previous game. “I told you to be there for the game! And what do you do? Laze around in the common room instead?”

“Hyuckie, I need you to calm down.” You’re smiling as you see him take deep breaths, joining in with him to shake off your own ongoing nerves. “That’s much better.”

The moment the words leave your lips, Donghyuck is smiling back at you, pulling in to give you a hug. Somewhere behind you a gagging is heard and you’re rolling your eyes, hands grabbing at the broomstick still in Donghyuck’s hand and swinging it at Jaemin’s head, glaring when he ducks from the blow.

“Is there a reason my favorite set of siblings didn’t come to watch me play?”

Donghyuck is swinging his feet over the couch, planting himself in the corner whilst Jaemin sits down at the other side of the couch, creating a space in the middle just enough for you to fit in between the two. “Did you have another date with that Hufflepuff girl, Jaems?”

“She was cute, “ Jaemin shrugs, “But I think I would rather eat expired spam.”

“Ha!” You’re halfway to sitting down when Donghyuck raises a finger to point at Jaemin, successfully hitting your cheek in the process of it. The glare you send does nothing to him, the boy throwing an arm around your shoulder while still focused on humiliating your brother, “Suck on that! You aren’t as attractive as you thought, huh?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jaemin’s waving his hand in the air for a moment, before he’s pointing his finger at you, redirecting all of Donghyuck’s attention onto you. “Besides, you should be more interested in our own princess’ date.”

“A date, as in where two people get together to get to know each other, to see if they’re compatible?” Donghyuck frowns, “Since when have you been interested in boys?”

“Jaemin,” You groan, “Partnering up with Jeno for potions isn’t a date.”

“Jeno? As in Lee Jeno!?” Donghyuck’s scream catches the attention of multiple people coming into the room after watching the match, some looking at you peculiarly while others don’t even spare a glance. It hasn’t even reached midday and you’re already tired from all the drama your two friends are causing, wishing the day would come to an end soon.

“The professor just wanted us to pair up because we’re the only ones who could rival each other.” You glare at Jaemin. “Not because he wants us to go on a date.”

Hushed whispers cut off the flow of conversation, some students cocking their heads to the door while you could feel the other bunch have their eyes on you. Both Jaemin and Donghyuck are craning their necks over multiple heads and Donghyuck’s the first one to come back to his original position, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face which is duplicated by Jaemin. “Well princess, I think it’s time to leave. Your prince charming has arrived.”

A Gryffindor peeking his head into the Slytherin common room isn’t a usual sight to see and you, yourself wouldn’t believe it if you weren’t seeing it with your own eyes, especially if said Gryffindor in question is golden boy, Lee Jeno himself. You’re watching with peek curiosity as Jeno peeks inside the room, his eyes darting everywhere as if he’s searching for someone. You have to admit that it would take bravery only a Gryffindor possesses, after all it would scare the living daylights out of anyone else but him.

His eyes narrow in on you and you’re checking if he’s staring at anyone else until a smile pops on his face and he’s screaming your name for everyone to hear. Gasps and murmurs break out but are silenced, not even seconds later, when Donghyuck lets out a laugh, his voice echoing through the otherwise silent room. Your brother nods his head to Jeno’s direction, a smirk resting on his face as you get up to meet Jeno. The fast steps you take are enough to reach him in a few seconds and the ongoing watchers disappear with a look from you, leaving you and Jeno with some privacy, except from your brother and friend.

“Lee Jeno, what a surprise.” You force out a smile, “A pleasure to see you, of course. But may I ask, what in Slytherin’s name are you doing here?”

Your nose scrunches when Jeno lifts his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. Lee Jeno smells of sweat, grass and a little bit of catnip, something you find odd since for all the years you’ve been in Hogwarts, you’ve never seen catnip grow anywhere near. Lee Jeno is everything you’ve heard of him to be; muscular, tall and looks as if he belongs on the field.

‘I never knew he would be this cute up close.’

A head shake dissipates all your thoughts, choosing to focus solely on the boy in front of you, who seems to be in a world of his own. Patience is not something you have, annoyance starting to bite at the back of your neck like a three headed snake. “Well?”

“Oh, right. I’m sorry.” Jeno’s ears are painted with a shade of red, cheeks in a similar condition. “I thought we could revise a bit before potions. Since the professor has high expectations on us and all.”

You’re pondering for a moment, listing off all the things you needed to do by tonight, ears pricking up when the sound of Jaemin’s laughter fills the room behind you. You decide that as much as you would enjoy working on ancient runes with Jaemin, you’d enjoy working on poyions a little bit more.

“Sure,” You nodded, “Lead the way.”

­-

“So are you sure we can use this place?” Jeno’s pace is a bit too quick for you to handle, forcing you to take bigger and quicker steps so that you’re walking side by side with each other. In the short amount of time you walked with Jeno, you realized he’s not one to speak. He prefers to keep quiet and let you do all the talking, he spews out a few questions here and there to keep the conversation going, and you suppose it’s a good difference than when you’re with Donghyuck and Jaemin.

“Yes, I asked professor Slughorn beforehand if you’re worried.”

The air is silent for a while, both you and Jeno hard at work on collecting the few necessities for your potion, with Jeno grabbing the books by the professor’s desk and you collecting the herbs to brew. The potions room is nothing special, decked out with chairs and tables in the middle for students to experiment on, a brewing pot stacked on each and every one of those desks. “So what’re we making?”

“Amortentia.” Jeno looks almost different in the dim light, almost as if he’s a different person than the one you’ve seen all these years. The way his arm moves as he’s stirring the potion, the way he’s squinting his eyes as if the potion would disappear if he looked away. You almost hear yourself say he looks magical with the mist that’s starting to float around, a telltale sign that the potion you’re working on is almost complete, “With a little bit of a twist.”

“A twist?” You’re positive the mist swirling around the room has gotten into your head, twisting your mind into thinking nonsense, and almost scoffing when the thought of smelling what Jeno smells like in the Amortentia appears. “A twist how?”

“Well,” The mist around you is changing in colors; one moment you’re seeing a hint of green, something that reminds you of Donghyuck. Another moment you’re seeing pink, something that you’ve associated with your brother your entire life. You even started seeing a hint of blue, something that vaguely reminds you of you, although you didn’t expect to see the patches of red and gold. You didn’t expect to see the two specific colors that reminds you all too much of Gryffindor, all too much of Jeno. “We know that Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world and that it smells different to each person, according to what attracts them.”

“So I thought,” Jeno mumbles, “Why not create something that foretells who you’ll be attracted to?”

The potion itself turns from a darkened ink blue into one of a mother-of-pearl sheen, the color briefly catching your eye before it puffs out more mist, some enhancing into spirals while others turn into odd shapes. Your eyes are drawn to a perfectly shaped lion pup playing with its siblings, then darting around to lock onto what seems like a kitten playing with a golden snitch in its paws. Swirling spirals of mist encase both you and Jeno, said boy looking to the edge of the room where he sees a little girl, one that looks exactly like you, playing with a golden snake.

“I’d hate to pry.” Your eyes catch onto the sight of a little boy on a broomstick, flying around above meadows of flowers and your heart beats a little faster when you realize the child looks a little too similar to Jeno for your liking. “But what does it smell like to you?”

“It smells like crackling fire, vanilla, and ancient runes.” Jeno’s looking around in bewilderment, trying to find the little girl in the room only to find you standing, looking dazed but straight at him. His heart is beating hard and fast, mind racing with a billion thoughts while he tries to figure out the last time he’s caught a sniff of vanilla or ancient runes, finding it seldom that he encounters those objects. His mind clicks into place when he realizes the only time he’s smelt a whiff of vanilla, being earlier when he went into the Slytherin common room to see you. “What about you?”

“It smells like freshly mowed grass, new parchment,” Your eyes flick onto Jeno, finding it hard to see him in the midst of Red and Gold clouding your vision, while Jeno’s sight is filled with nothing but Green and Silver, “..and catnip.”

“My head understands things that my heart is not yet willing to accept.”

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[bonjour-rainycity]

The Long Way Around ~ Chapter 2

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/622991219538214912/the-long-way-around-ch-1

Pairing: Jasper x Reader

Word count: 2210

Warnings: None

Jasper’s POV

Before we even get close to the house, a high-pitched, agonized screaming makes Esme and I both flinch. She had insisted on coming along, though Carlisle, Edward, and I had all warned against it. Newborns can be feral and deadly, and none of us want Esme to get hurt. But she was adamant, and we all respect her too much to deny her a choice. Personally, I think Esme wants to be there so the girl can have someone less intimidating to interact with. I can’t blame her. If I had to wake up in an unfamiliar place after experiencing trauma and indescribable pain, I would much rather see Esme than me.

We enter Carlisle’s study, the smell of bleach strong. Esme tsks upon seeing the state of the girl’s outfit. The bloodied parts of her dress have been cut away and, I assume, burned. What’s left doesn’t do much to protect the girl’s modesty, but someone had the decency to cover her with a towel. Esme flits away and returns within seconds carrying clean clothes. Wordlessly, Carlisle, Edward, and I exit the room. 

The girl’s screams die into fearful whimpers, likely in response to Esme’s cold, unfamiliar touch.

“She thinks she’s in Hell,” Edward mutters, looking at the floor. “She’s terrified.”

That much I know. I can feel the waves of agony, fear, and horror rolling off of her. It makes me want to flinch away. But instead, I merely clear my throat and try to ignore these emotions. “We’ll need to be careful when she comes to. She might not be willing to listen to reason, and that will be dangerous with her newborn strength.” 

Carlisle and Edward nod. 

When Esme calls us back in we find her sitting in a chair near the girl’s head, stroking her hair. “What’s her name?”

“Y/n, Y/l/n, according to the license we found on her,” Carlisle responds, adjusting the morphine levels in the drip. Based on the girl’s--Y/n’s--screams, I doubt it’s doing much, if anything. 

Edward nods almost imperceptibly, confirming my suspicions. Of course we would never tell Carlisle. It would break his heart. As it is, I can feel his intense self-loathing. I do what I can to ease it. 

Y/n briefly opens her eyes to see who is touching her, and I can see, as well as feel, her fear. When she gives into the pain and closes her eyes once more, I move to stand on her other side, opposite Esme, and use my ability to try to calm her down. 

While she’s consumed in whatever hell she’s enduring, I study her. She’s in great distress, obviously, and it pains me to see how young she is. She can’t be more than twenty. Such a short human life. Then again, a rueful voice within me taunts, you had less. Physically, I’m frozen at nineteen, but I feel so much older...Probably because I’m actually a hundred and seventy-six years old. Inwardly, I scoff. If she’s careful, Y/n has a very long life ahead of her. 

We stay like this for many hours. Y/n alternates between writhing and screaming to whimpering pitifully. Her emotions are hard to bear, and I can only guess as to what Edward is experiencing. Esme and I do our best to make her feel better, but with little success. The transformation is a truly terrible process. Eventually, Y/n’s skin becomes too hard for the needles, and Carlisle puts away the drip. A few hours later, Edward perks up. 

“Shouldn’t be long now. The pain is starting to recede from her fingers and toes.” 

‘Shouldn’t be long’ is relative, and it takes four long hours until her heart starts beating frantically in its last effort to survive. 

“Esme, back up,” I advise, knowing that, any minute now, the seemingly harmless girl on the cot could jump up and become a deranged killing machine. 

Esme goes to stand at the back of the room with Carlisle. Edward moves to block the door, and I plant myself directly in front of the cot. Hopefully, if she does become violent, the four of us will be able to catch and subdue her. 

“No sudden movements,” I remind them. “She’s scared enough already and it’s only going to get worse. Once the thirst hits, we’ll be virtually unable to communicate with her until she feeds. It’ll be the only thing on her mind.” My voice is grim, and I can’t help the flashbacks to my many years surrounded by vicious newborns, as well as my own time as one. 

My family stills, a sure sign of stress, as Y/n’s heartrate skyrockets for five tense seconds, and then stops. 

No one breathes. 

Y/n gasps, opens her eyes, and sits up in the span of half a second. I feel her fear, shock, and confusion. 

“What…” She looks around the room, taking us in. When she sees me staring directly at her with my hands clasped tightly behind my back, I feel her fear intensify. It’s a natural reaction to both my intimidating stance and the scars covering my body, and I wish it didn’t bother me so much. 

“Where am I?” Her voice is breathy, eyes wild. I send waves of calm her way. 

Carlisle takes a slow step forward, his palms open in a show of harmlessness. “I am Dr. Carlisle Cullen. This is my wife, Esme, and two of my sons, Edward and Jasper.” He nods at each of us. 

“You’re very safe here, Y/n,” Esme reassures. 

I can tell it does little to ease Y/n’s suspicions, but it was kind of Esme to try anyway. 

Carlisle’s voice is calm and soothing when he continues. “You are at our home, which is about fifteen miles outside of the main town. Your friends brought you here three days ago. Do you remember that?”

“I…” Recognition dawns on Y/n’s face. “I was stabbed. But I was dying, I…” She gulps, a new bout of fear consuming her. “Am I in Hell?”

“No,” Carlisle says firmly. “I’m sorry for the pain. Unfortunately, it’s the only way to enter this new life.” 

Her confusion deepens. “New life, meaning…” She trails off in a question. 

“You’re a vampire,” Edward states simply. 

It’s then that she decides to bolt. 

Edward is on her in a millisecond, having heard the warning from her thoughts. 

“Edward, no!” I lunge forward, trying to all at once keep Y/n from escaping and Edward from getting hurt. 

But it’s too late. The new vampire has already given into her instincts and bitten Edward, hard, in an effort to get him to release her. 

He does, of course. Vampire venom hurts like a bitch. 

Edward howls and falls to the floor; Esme is at his side in an instant. Carlisle quickly guards the door, while I work to force the crazed newborn into the corner of the room. She snaps and throws her arms around, but I easily dodge her predictable movements. 

“Listen to me.” My voice is harsh, commanding, just like it had been all those years ago. But what can I do? It’s the only way they’ll listen. 

Y/n’s eyes dart wildly around the room. I hit her with every ounce of calm and lethargy I’ve got. Thankfully, she soon becomes much more subdued. 

I continue. “We don’t want to hurt you, but if you attack us again you’ll leave us no choice.” I let her mind fill in the blanks of what we’ll do if she does try to attack. Of course we wouldn’t actually hurt her, but she doesn’t need to know that. A little dose of fear will be useful in controlling her. 

“You say I’m a vampire.” Her voice shakes slightly, but she stands tall, defiant, almost. She’s trying to project confidence. I know her true emotions, so I know her exterior is a facade, but I have to admire the effort. She looks at me then, straight in the eye. “Is that why my throat burns? Why I’m so thirsty?” She spits the word out, and I can feel her desperation and dread. She so badly wants to be wrong. I honestly think she would feel better if we laughed at her and said no, we were just playing, that we had actually kidnapped and drugged her instead. 

But of course, we can’t say that. This is her new reality. So my voice is even and honest when I respond. “Yes. You’ll need to hunt soon.” 

Carlisle appears at my left shoulder. “Our coven is different from others. We feed only on animal blood.”

At the mention of blood, her emotions change. Suddenly, she becomes ravenous and hyper-focused. She sinks to the ground and claws at her throat. 

None of us are shocked. Esme, Edward, and Carlisle all went through this process with each other and with Rosalie and Emmett. I went through it with the myriad of newborns I helped train. But still, it’s unnerving to see how one can go from human-like to animalistic, the true predator coming out in a split second.

Having recovered, Edward joins me on my right side. I can feel his annoyance, but that won’t fade until the sting from the venom does. 

“Jasper’s right, it’s all she can think about right now. She’s starting to wonder if we’re threats standing in the way of her obtaining a meal.” 

I nod, feeling her growing suspicion. “Are there any humans nearby?” 

Edward pauses, then shakes his head. “I can’t hear anyone. I’ll let you know if that changes.” 

I steel myself. “Okay. Esme and Carlisle, you go ahead and wait in the forest. Be close once you pick up our scents, but don’t follow, just try to keep a perimeter. She could easily misinterpret us as a threat and decide to attack.” 

They nod and rush to the woods. 

Y/n is now growing restless, and I can feel her indecision. 

Edward looks at her, his gaze hard. “Patience. We’re doing this to help you, so calm down.” 

Y/n lets out a light snarl, showing her displeasure. 

She’s not going to understand that, I think at Edward. She won’t be able to listen to reason until she feeds. 

His annoyance grows, but he doesn’t push Y/n further. 

Once I’m satisfied that Carlisle and Esme have a good head start, I decide it’s time to go. “Come with us, we’ll take you somewhere with blood.” 

Y/n’s emotions flare with excitement and anticipation at my promise. 

Stay at her side but don’t get in front of or behind her unless it’s necessary. She could interpret that as a challenge. Once Edward nods, we take off. 

Y/n obediently stays between me and Edward, knowing we’ll take her to where she can satisfy her thirst. If you promise a newborn blood, you can get them to do anything, I think ruefully. I feel Edward’s sympathy for me, and I shake off my past. Right now, we have a job to do. 

Not two miles into the forest, we catch the scent of deer. Edward and I hang back, letting Y/n’s instincts guide her from here on out. 

She’s messy, but swift. Within minutes, all ten deer are drained. 

I feel Y/n’s dissatisfaction, and hold back a chuckle. Even without tasting human blood, it’s easy to be disappointed by the animal blood. Thinking of drinking from a human again stirs up temptation within me, and I crush it down. My self-control now is much better than in the past, but I’ll always remember the taste of human blood, and that makes it hard to enjoy the eternity facing me of drinking only from animals. I idly wonder if Y/n will choose to stay with us or go her own way, and if she does leave, will she continue drinking animal blood or switch to humans? But now isn’t the time to think about that. We still have to keep a close eye on the situation in front of us.

“Better,” I ask, approaching Y/n slowly. 

She purses her lips, still crouched on the ground. “Sort of.” 

Edward smiles in understanding. “You’ll get more used to it in time. It takes a lot of practice, but you can do it. We’ll be here to help you as long as you need.” 

Esme and Carlisle’s scents reach us, and Y/n crouches, a growl rising in her throat. I do my best to calm her. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just Carlisle and Esme, whom you met earlier. They won’t try to take any food from you.” 

Placated by both my words and ability, Y/n straightens, but a residual amount of suspicion remains. 

“I expect you have a lot of questions.” Carlisle’s voice is steady as he addresses Y/n from a few hundred yards away. “Come back with us to the house, we will answer them all.” 

With a sad-sounding sigh, Y/n nods. I feel for her. She’s got a long, hard road ahead. 

And so do you, a voice reminds me. I hold back a groan, knowing the next few years are going to be tough for us all.

A/n Hello, thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think and if you would like to be added to the tag list!

xx

Bjr

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/623116614605357056/the-long-way-around-chapter-3

Tag list: @puer-de-infinitate @charliestuff @hindustani-diaspora

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