#(OUTSIDE FRANCIS MIND)

[heuheu-art]

i know i've done something right with kelsey's design because this is what my friend said immediately upon seeing her:

[franceanon]

Me, Reading the new chapter: Francis is too pretty to get zapped, it's the Law

[jojikawa]

Beauty and the Beast

An event where you are a woman in the 50s trying to turn the head of your neighbor, Francis Mosses when you are stalked and pursued by his evil counterpart.

Art by ilameys

Zettai Zetsumei • Co shu Nie

Word Count: 5.7k

⚠️: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT ♥ Manhandling, Slight body horror descriptions, descriptions of blood, himbo!doppelgänger!Francis Mosses, Yandere Behavior, Mentions of Stalking, sexualization of the female MC by Fake Francis, SMUT(CNC, mentions of a "rape kit"), and monster cock.

I write for free, but if you wanna further support me > Ko-Fi 🎀

Life was somewhat boring for you as a woman in the 50s. Despite being sought after by a lot of the men in your apartment complex, you had your heart set on one man. You only got to see him once a day. Francis Mosses. When he would deliver milk to your door in the morning. No matter how cute or cherry you were, it seemed like his mind was set on other things. The man always looked tired but you thought he was handsome no matter what. Maybe even more handsome…it was just something about hot men being tired that made them so much hotter.

You had hoped that eventually, he’d notice you and finally take you on a date!

But that hope soon faded when you read the newspapers. They talked about how doppelgängers are becoming a lot more frequent and the D.D.D. would be installing new units everywhere to ensure that no evil counterparts are making their way into the homes of others and killing people. You were able to tell if this made you feel safer or a lot more scared. What if someone made a mistake…?

Well, you didn’t have a chance to feel anything really, as the D.D.D. was extremely secretive about this kind of threat. After some time, it became normalized and it soon left your mind. The Doorman job seemed to be pretty effective as you had never seen any monsters before and were very much alive. It was rumored that the creatures would murder and eat any person they encountered if they succeeded in passing as humans. This is another reason you had your heart set on Francis. You felt as though he could protect you at a time like this. Maybe it was naive of you but after all, you were just a girl.

“Good Morning.”

Upon hearing the small knock at your door, you went to greet him. Francis stood tall, rather confused about you coming to get your bottled milk so quickly.

“Oh, good morning…” He replied flatly, gripping the strap of his milk bag. You thought that maybe he had a mutual crush on you and was too shy to act on it. So, you could take that step for him.

“How are you this morning? I hope that life is agreeing with you today.” You stepped outside of your apartment door with your glass of milk in hand. Francis shrugged. “I suppose it is.” He then yawned before saying “What’s wrong? Are you looking for another?”

You blinked. “Huh?” Your eyes then darted down to your hands. “O-Oh…sure.” You smiled attractively, causing him to break eye contact with you. He reached into his milk carrier and revealed and took out another. “You’re only allowed to get one every day but you can have mine.” He walked up to you and placed the bottle into your free hand.

“Th-Thanks!”

“Don’t mention it.”

After he disappeared around the corner, you were filled with joy! That interaction was such a good sign. He gave you his milk bottle. You had to make him something for dinner tonight as a gift!

Thunk!

You almost jumped at the sound of glass falling on the carpet at the far end of the hallway behind you. It looked like an empty milk bottle if you squinted hard enough. There was a shadow as well. It made you feel uneasy and quickly made you retreat into your home.

You wanted to try seeing if you could have more time with Francis. There was a job opening for the D.D.D. Doorman of your building and you instantly took it. Being able to meet with Francis when he wasn’t busy might have your conversations with him take a turn for the better. You really appreciated his selfless gesture. So, seeing him at least twice a day would make your life so much brighter. Francis was the complete package. Tall, handsome, quiet, and most of all, soft-spoken. You’d be a good wife to him.

On the first day of the job, you didn’t receive any proper training. You were given an informational video and a set of instructions that you scrambled to memorize as a long line of your neighbors awaited their inspection outside. The job was easy at first and you did it well. It was a chore but those are easy. You let in the right people and you called the D.D.D. when you found a doppelganger like you were instructed to. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, Francis didn’t pay you any mind. You gave him a soft smile through the glass before asking him about his day. 

“I hope work is treating you well.” You pitched your voice up to sound cuter. Your graceful hands moved swiftly as you sifted through the many layers of documents, trying to organize them before your next neighbor. “Yeah, I suppose.” He answered, blinking rather slowly. Your smile widened. “Any days off soon? I’d like to see you outside of your uniform.” You winked at him and he just shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Well, maybe, sometime after your hard work, you tell me a day you’d think you would be free?” 

You waited with anticipation for his response. He seemed rather confused and it was rather adorable. Then he said “I don’t really know. I think I’m busy but I’ll let you know if that changes.”

Your smile faltered just a little but you were good at faking emotions. “Oh, no worries.” You waved him off in a playful manner before pressing the button to allow him inside. Your shift ended and you thought that you should probably get to making that dinner for him as a ‘thank you’ for the free milk. As you began to clean up, the pressure of your job began to set in. This wasn’t something that you could just quit if Francis were to reject you. Ignoring all the unexplainable noises, the dark figures, and the constant feeling of being watched, it would be very awkward seeing him every day after that.

It was a new day. Francis came to check into the building and you let him go without chatting with him because you didn’t want to seem like a bother. But…then you saw him again.

“Francis?” You cutely tilted your head. The way he looked at you was much different than usual. The Francis you knew could barely make meaningful eye contact with you but right now he had no problem burning holes into your skull with his eyes. Not only that but he was visibly bigger as well. Taller and more masculine. His arms were big and veiny. This was NOT Francis Mosses.

“I-ID…?” You gave a nervous half-smile as you tried to hide your stutter. The humanoid creature gawked, a subtle sense of happiness washing over its face the longer it stayed there. “Don’t have it on me.” It replied plainly. You picked up the clipboard before exing out the box that was labeled “ID.”

“W-Well, you seem to look a lot like someone who’s already checked in. Please, give me a moment to confirm.” You flashed it a close-eyed smile. Upon seeing it, the fake Francis moved closer to the window, fogging it up with its mouth breathing.

You pressed the big red button to close the shutter before dialing the number to the D.D.D. 

The representative told you someone would be over right away to dispose of the doppelgänger. It only took about a minute before they’d arrive. Normally, the shutter would open on its own after being reset by the D.D.D. member but for some reason, it didn’t You figured that now would be a good time to open it to help the last neighbors but when you did, you were not met with the hazmat suit you were so familiar with. 

In front of you was the same fake Francis from before, now covered in some blood. His expression was one of annoyance and the veins in his arms were pulsating as if he were trying to contain some kind of anger.

“E-Excuse me, but you need to—!”

“Let me in.”

Your heart dropped. It talked! And it sounded just like Francis too. 

You shook your head. “N-No! I’m not letting a monster in.” You reached for the number to re-dial the number again.

“But I think you look so pretty today. You wore that just for me, huh? I’d love to t-tear it off of you.” The creature’s neck involuntarily cracked its neck, twisting it in a demonic way. You screamed at the sight, pressing the button once more to close the shutters so that you wouldn’t have to see it. As they went down, the doppelgänger tried to stop it by putting his hand under it. It got caught in the track, causing it to get stuck on the track and it was open halfway.

“Come on, Darling, I know you’re not about to call those bastards again. I don’t want to have to hurt anyone else.” The large man-creature crouched down. You could see his fanged canine teeth poking out of his mouth. You backed away from the window with the telephone in hand.

3312…

You listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before the receptionist answered.

“Hello?”

“P-Please send help!” You cried over the phone. Tears began to spill out of your eyes upon hearing the squeal of metal as the predator stretched and bent it to his will. The glass was the only thing left that could stop him from entering.

You saw how abnormally long his tongue was when it glided over his lips. “I just want to taste you…”

The receptionist dispatched another group of workers to help dispose of the doppelgänger. They arrived almost instantly. It was only then that the fake Francis moved away from the window. You sighed in relief, trying to calm yourself down from the events that transpired. You ran over to the tempered glass. The mental door looked like sheet paper.

You saw no trace of the Hazmat people but you also didn’t see the fake Francis anymore. You quickly gathered your things and rushed to leave. You opened the door to let yourself out. You planned to run to your room and lock the door but as soon as you had left the room, you bumped into a stiff, toned chest. The figure grabbed you by your neck and forced you to look at them. The gloved hand was covered in blood and it stained your skin and the collar of your dress.

“Where do you think you’re going, Princess?”

His grip around your throat was so tight that you weren’t able to form words. It was completely covered in blood and in its other hand was a knife dripping with blood as well. It kept the violence to one side of the room so that you weren’t able to see anything unless you completely left the screening room.

The light clank of the knife hitting the ground could be heard and its newly free hand grabbed your waist. The doppelgänger hugged you to its masculine chest. Its head rested itself on top of yours before it planted its nose in the crown of your head before inhaling your scent deeply. The blaring sound of the alarm continued to go off and it was deafening.

Your nose was overloaded with the scent of fresh blood. The pure shock didn’t let you resist his touch. His grip loosened and you dropped everything you had in your hands on the floor, staining it in with the red substance

“P-Please.”

You felt its large hand around the back of your neck and you feared that it would snap it and kill you any second. You held your breath as you felt it set the other hand on your waist as well, rubbing it gingerly.

It felt like the doppelgänger was sizing you up to see if you’d be a good enough meal for it.

“He-ey, beautiful. It's… okay…” 

The doppelgänger’s speech was somewhat disconnected but it was fluid for the most part. At first, it was clear he was a fake but the more he kept talking, the more it sounded like the real thing…like it was learning in real time.

Your heart rate accelerated when you felt its hand travel ever so slowly from your waist to the collar of your dress. The inhuman smile on its face widened and it suddenly ripped the cloth that covered your torso. You gasped, instinctively covering your now exposed bra.

You wiggled out of its grip and used the opportunity to run. You kicked off your pumps and ran barefoot to your apartment. All you could do was hope that more of the D.D.D. would come and solve the issue before anyone else could get hurt. The emergency alarm was still going off so the authorities should be there soon.

When you arrived at your door, you tried to scramble to look for your keys so that you could get inside but…

…you remembered that you dropped them along with the rest of your possessions.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching behind you. The large shadow engulfed your smaller form.

“Allow me.” The stranger said, calmly. Their large fist went through the door handle, shattering the lock and making it completely useless. You were too shocked to try running again. It found you.

The doppelganger shoved you against the door, swinging it open and causing you to fall forward inside of your home. You hit the floor with a soft but swift thud. “I see the way you look at him.” Its voice was laced with venom—anger but left more to be desired. It was playing with you awfully long for a creature that was trying to kill you.

“But you’d never look at me that way…”

The Fake Francis entered the apartment making sure to secure the door behind it so that you couldn’t run anymore. You cried and whimpered as it took its sweet time pushing your bookcase in front of the door so no one would intervene with what was supposed to happen next.

“I-I don’t know what you’re—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as it smashed its lips into yours. Its tongue was like that of a serpent, slipping its way into your mouth. You tried to push it away but any attempts just resulted in your lips connecting once more. It was too strong. 

You were terrified but it passed so much for the real Francis.

“Tell me you don’t like it ‘n I’ll stop.” It whispered into your mouth before it French kissed you once more. You kissed it back, unable to resist his appearance any longer. When it pulled away, a string of saliva connected between both of your mouths. It’s warm breath hits the surface of your face, eyes full of lust and horror.

It’s soft lips attached themselves to your neck, biting and sucking until your skin slowly began turning red. “Mmm.” It hummed deeply, traveling lower and lower until it reached the cavern between your breasts. “You’re sensitive here, aren’t you?” It placed kisses in the valley of your chest, waiting for a reply. You were unable to form words at this point. It wanted to ravage you and steal your innocence. It took your idleness as consent, continuing on with satisfying itself and by extension, satisfying you.

It took the delicate hand you had been using to drive a wedge between the both of you. You thought that at this point it was going to break your arm! You squeezed your eyes shut, ready to endure the pain but…it didn’t. You felt the heated bulge beneath it’s bloodied white trousers. It throbbed. 

That’s when it finally clicked for you. It wasn’t playing with you like you were food. It wasn’t trying to taste you and pick it’s teeth with your bones. It wanted to be with you. To breed you.

“I—ah~♡!” You bit down on your lip to contain the pretty moans that left your mouth. Your bra was removed, fully exposing your breasts. Its tongue touched the tip of your nipple and its mouth enveloped over your entire areola. It licked and sucked on the bud until it was nice and hard. The other hand was subtly slipped under your dress.

It took barely any strength at all to rip the fabric, showing how inappropriately wet you’d become from this activity. It craved the essence that was oozing from your tiny cunt.

At the feeling of the cold wind, you brought your legs together just to have them forced apart again. The creature made you feel so small and vulnerable. It used force when it felt necessary but overall, it was….soft. Licking, kissing, biting but no drawing blood, taste, loving.

It salivated at your legs, raising one and nuzzling the side of its face into the smooth skin. “So…gorgeous.” It pulled you forward. “When I saw you, I knew I wanted you.”

“Y-You did…?” You squeaked. It’s touch sent goosebumps from your limp to the rest of your body. “Two years I’ve been watching you. It was so damn annoying seeing you talk to that piece of meat.”

Piece of meat?

“I don’t know who you mean.” You shied away from the perfect creature. Could it mean…

“F-Francis?” You knitted your eyes together in confusion.

“Yes—HIM!” The doppelgänger dropped your leg and pulled you by your thighs to its crotch. “…I could never decide what skin would be the best to pursue you in. But then I’d see the way you look at him.” Pre-cum was beginning to show from its member inside. You could feel the wet fabric on the lips of your hot cunt. “So, I became him…but better.”

You heard the subtle unzipping sound of the pants and it took out its thick cock. It was larger than normal and didn't look like the standard male genitalia. You’d need to use both hands to hold it.

There was no denying this thing could perfectly replicate a human man. Before you could even react, the big “man” picked you up by your hair.

“Get on your knees.” He commanded and you felt obligated to obey him. You’ve never been in a situation where you were being held up by a man like this.

“I’m gonna split you in half with this cock.” He pushed its large tip against your cheek, straining it with warm cum. “Open your mouth.”

Your lips parted for a moment but you hesitated. There was no way that whole thing could fit into your mouth. Your eyes traveled up to his for guidance. He only stared down at you with hard, tired eyes. The corner of his mouth tugged upward into a smirk.

“I said…open your mouth.”

He spoke through his teeth as if it were a threat. You were reluctant but tried to ease it in. You kissed his tip, causing him to grunt and tighten his fist around your hair. “Open.” He growled, yanking your head back. His cock was so close to your face that you could truly take in its side. It was nearly the length of your skull. 

You opened your mouth out of fear and he shoved it inside. He was kind enough to let you get used to it in your throat by going soft and slow…or maybe he was just distracted by the imprint showing on your throat. 

You grabbed his hips to keep yourself from falling backward. Even a bit of force made you lose your balance. “Good girl.” He sighed, relaxing into you, pushing the limits by pushing it deeper. Your choking and gagging only made him feel pleasure.

“You struggling with my dick in your mouth is so hot.” You heard him mutter under his breath. Your eyes began to water from the choking, causing tears to carry mascara down your cheeks.

“Keep sucking.” He fucked into your throat and gentle too. “I’m close.”

 Both of his hands found themselves on the back of your head. He sped up his pace until a loud groan emitted from his chest and a mysterious liquid found its way down your throat.

The doppelgänger let go of your hair. You fell back on your bottom and he crouched down. “Hey.” He called, grabbed both sides of your face with one hand. He squeezed your cheeks together. “Swallow.”

You swallowed what was left and once he knew it was in your belly, his lips crashed into yours. His tongue wormed its way into your mouth and explored every cavern.

You felt yourself get lifted again but this time to your feet. He walked you over to your dining table and shoved you into it. “Bend over.”

You didn’t really get a choice. When you tried to stand, he forced you down to the table with his hand on the back of your head. 

You expected him to say something, but he stayed silent. You felt him explore your backside from your hips to your exposed ass. The wind was so cold but his hands were so warm.

He chuckled darkly, spreading your ass cheeks and sticking his shaft in between. His dick was so much bigger than you that you would definitely have a belly bulge because of it. He wanted to experience it for himself.

You waited with silent anticipation for him what he would do next. You weren’t too sexually active anymore because you wanted to reserve that for the real Francis, if you ever got the chance with him, so you were really nervous about having something so big inside.

“Uah!” You squeaked, feeling a wet, warm muscle enter the deepest part of your cunt. It was his tongue!

You whipped your head around to see that his face was buried in you from behind. “Mmm.” You heard him hum vibrations into you. He consumed all of your juices as they came out. It must’ve tasted so good coming from a pretty human like you.

With every moan and whimper that left your mouth, it made his dick grow harder and harder. He didn’t stop until you had creamed all over his tongue. So much came out that it got all over his face too.

“I-Is that it? Is that what you want…?” You asked, but you were only ignored.

“Pick a hole.”

“Wh-wha—“

“Pick a hole, or I will.”

Pick…a hole…?

His large thumb massaged your asshole while his knuckles, now sleek with your cream, was stimulating your pussy.

“Um…I—“ 

“Both it is!”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?!”

You felt his thumb sink deep into your ass while he struggled to get his large tip into your pussy. “Damn you’re fucking tight.” He growled through his teeth. His free hand grabbed your ass, fingers sinking in so deep they’d leave marks. 

“W-Wait, you have to go slow!” You cried, face heating up from being touched in such filthy ways. “I am.” He grumbled, pushing the limits of your vagina by forcing himself inside. Despite going at the pace of a snail, the pain of trying to fit himself inside didn’t decrease at all. You helplessly clawed at the table beneath you. It didn’t matter how wet you were. He was too big.

It took a moment but he was able to get it. It slipped in with much ease on his end but the difference inside made you gasp so hard you needed to cover your mouth.

The doppelgänger began thrusting without warning, quickly overstimulating you. You could feel him in your stomach too. You reach back to push him off of you but he just grabbed your arm and kept it. There wasn’t much you could do to get someone this big off of you. You would only take it.

“P-Please…I can’t take it!” You gapped out, drool escaped your mouth as you tried to form words. He was fucking you so hard you couldn’t even think. All that could be heard around the room was the lewd slapping of his filled balls against the bottom of your pussy. 

“Beg for it then. Say you love me.” His breath hitched. “Say you want me and I’ll let you go.”

“I—“ Slap! 

You tried to speak. “I wa—“ Slap!

It seemed that when you tried to comply with him, he’d remove the hand playing with your asshole to leave a rough, skin-reddening slap on your ass. Your struggling amused him. He couldn’t help but smile.

The doppelgänger has been stalking you for so long. It was hard getting into your apartment normally because of the last doorman but he couldn’t resist you once you were sitting at that desk.

“What’s wrong?” He teased, his deep voice going soft. “My dick isn’t in your mouth anymore…so what’s the issue?” He chuckled. “Beg.”

“I want you!” You blurted out.

“You…want me? Say there’s no one else. Say you love me!” It was like music to his ears, really. It was helping him reach his climax.

“I…I love you—“

“FUCK!”

Your belly bulge quickly became bigger as his cum painted your walls and womb. Even with his dick growing more flaccid, he continued to fuck his cum into you so that you both knew who you belonged to now. Tears spilled out of your eyes as you squirted onto his cock, mixing your juices together.

“I love you too, Princess. More than you could ever imagine—“ Before he could finish, his ears perked up almost like an animal. His attention turned towards your door that he had destroyed before. “Here they come.” He muttered, putting his member back into his pants.

You weakly lifted yourself from the table. Your hand placed itself tight below your navel. It was so sore now. “Who’s coming…? What are you talking about…?”

The doppelgänger ignored you, its horns flesh and bones began contorting and changing color. Its physique turned from that of a huge masculine man to the familiar form of that of a D.D.D. member. Yellow suit and all. 

It ran to the door, opening it, and sticking its head out. “I found her, she's in here!” Its voice changed to a generic man as well. Not at all like the deep gruff from before.

Your legs felt like jelly, you fell to the ground as soon as you were able to stand. They were numb from the pleasure, leaving you unable to walk.

What happened next went by as a blur. The D.D.D. Reinforcement Team took you to a hospital where you were taken care of and given rape kit. You were unable to refuse it once the forensics team found semen at the scene. In order to maintain faith in the D.D.D., your assault was largely covered up but only those who were in the apartment that day knew about it.

After the commotion of filing our paperwork and giving information, you were sent home. You didn’t sustain any life threatening injuries but you were asked to come in periodically to see how your body would react to having the semen of a doppelgänger inside of you…so now you were a bit of a test subject to them. You quit the job after that but you were quickly replaced by a new guy. 

You hadn’t seen the doppelgänger the entire time. Or at least, you thought you didn’t. You wanted to process the situation but you were more confused as to why it craved so much validation from you. It wanted you to say you loved it. It wanted you to say that you wanted it. It said that it’s been waiting two years to be this close to you. It looked like Francis.

You had just arrived back home. Carpenters quickly replaced your door before you got home and you decided to continue life as usual by making dinner for yourself. Your heart still aches from the fear you felt when you thought you were going to die. And so did your vagina. It didn’t bleed, thank god, but it was sore to the touch from how big that monster was.

“Man, I thought you’d never come back.”

You were alone in your kitchen when a voice emitted from behind you. The familiarity in the voice made your heart drop. You quickly turned around to see the doppelgänger from before, masquerading as Francis again.

“What are you doing here? What do you—“

“Shh, princess.” He strided through your small kitchen, stepping so close to you that you were against the counter with nowhere else to go. You placed your hands on his chest, giving you the illusion that you could push him away. He grabbed your arm by the wrist before kissing the inside of your palm. He kissed your fingers and then the back of your hand before making you cup his cheek, which he nuzzled into lovingly.

You wanted to rip your hand away but his grip was so strong. You blushed. Was it wrong to admit that he…it, was attractive? 

“Why didn’t you kill me and eat me? Why did you do that to me?” You questioned meekly. His eyes were closed, enjoying your warm touch with a smile before they opened. His eyes were like hunter's eyes. “Because I love you.” He replied flatly. 

“I don’t know what that means…” 

You opened your mouth to speak again but you were cut off by a knock at your door. 

“I’ll get it.” The doppelgänger quickly said and in a mere second, it shapeshifted to turn into…you. It was able to mimic you in all your glory, including the hickeys, bites and bruises from your attack.

“No!” You blurted out. “Don’t do that.”

The doppelgänger allowed you to move away from it and your arm fell to your side. You went to get the door but you made sure to check who it was before opening.

It was Francis!

“It’s him!” You hurried to your bedroom to find your cardigan to cover your tattered clothes before answering the door.

“Francis? What brings you here?” You forced a smile but your eyes looked just as tired as his. You couldn’t hide anything from him.

“I heard what happened. ‘m so glad you’re okay.” Francis sighed, quickly invading your personal space. He hugged you to his chest. You blinked “F-Francis…?”

“I felt all torn up when I thought you died but when I heard that you were just fine, I just had to come see you myself.” Your stomach burned with delight. Francis was worried about you?

Francis let go of you and you pulled away. His face was red like he was blushing and you couldn’t help but blush too. Your lips curled into a smile. “W-Well, I’m a lot tougher than I look.”

He wanted to smile back but he couldn’t. He saw the marks on your skin. You were hurt. “I know you are.” He masked his sadness with a weak smile. He rested his hand on your head and ruffled it a bit.

It would probably be inappropriate for him to admit that he’s actually had feelings for you all this time, so he’d save it for another day. Hearing the news about the doppelgänger through gossip during his job of going door to door made him realize he could lose you at any moment. But today, he settled with placing a kiss at the crown of your head. “Stay safe. I’ll check on you again later.”

For a moment, everything in your life went still. Even after he had walked away and left you standing there, it didn’t feel real. This more or less confirmed he had a crush on you as well. No man just does that and doesn’t see you as more than just a neighbor.

Your heart fluttered as you came back to reality. You slipped back inside of your home. You need to get cleaned up! You had to bathe and find something suitable just in case Francis wanted to come inside upon your next meeting.

But then….

“You look awfully happy.”

The doppelgänger was still here. You gulped, seeing his much bigger form. He grabbed the sides of your face with his hand again. He didn’t bother crouching because of your size difference, leaving you standing on the tips of your toes.

You were too shocked to try defending yourself, so he continued. “I saw everything so don’t even try to lie. That bastard is so lucky that I have to lay low until the D.D.D. gets their claws out of you or else I would’ve…”

“Don’t hurt him!” You tried to beat and punch his arm to get him off but he didn’t budge. “Why not?!”

“Because…I’ll be sad. And you don’t want me to be sad, do you?” Your voice was unlabeled and lacked confidence. It was a Hail Mary but you’d do anything to prevent Francis from getting hurt.

“Shit.” The doppelgänger let go of you, setting you back on your feet. It seemed…conflicted. He paced around your living room briefly. It had a soft spot for you but you could tell it has trouble processing emotions like a person. It was just imitating a person to get what it wanted.

“You don’t want him. You just wanna marry a guy. I’ll marry you.” 

You shook your head. “No. Y-You can’t. You’re not him.”

“Of course I am.” His expression became mischievous. A smirk settled on his handsome face. “You can even call me Francis in bed if it fancies you.” 

You felt your stomach do a flip!

“No! I’m not calling you that. Even though you look just like him…wh-what do I call you anyway…?” You retreated inward, hugging yourself and looking quite nervous as if the situation was beginning to dawn on you. You were currently desired by one of the most dangerous beings in the world.

“Francis.”

“Stop! I’m never using that name for you.” You got angry enough to shove him but he didn’t move an inch. You quickly realized that you shouldn’t push too hard or else it might change its mind and kill you. 

“Mmm….” You pursed your lips, avoiding eye contact with the monster. “Wh-What about Franz? Is that good enough for you…?”

Franz, huh?

“Perfect.”

Tagged Folks: @z3r0art @chilifrylizard2

[reikoknshii]

🩸 Scarlet...Milk? 🥛(pt.2)

[This was heavily requested 😭 but i love y'all and have this ❤]

(Words: 1.3k)

"I'm watching you....."

Was written in the note, you stumbled back as you look ahead of the building that leads to the metal doors. The bloody doppelganger staring at you before disappearing in the blink of an eye.

You're being stalked...

Out of fear you rushed to your apartment after closing the main gates of the building.

'would that mean that doppelganger will be aggressive?..'

You think as you paced around in front of your apartment, it was the second floor apartment near Nacha's room. You sat down on your doorstep frustrated and nervous, if you messed up he will kill Francis...not only Francis, mostly anyone in the building-

"Y/n?" A soft and gentle tone asked as you turn your head to see Nacha's peeking out of her apartment room. "Miss Nacha- did i disturb you?"

"No, not at all..i just heard you groaning and pacing around, you seem down in the slumps"

"Ah..well, is it okay?-"

"I dont mind, come in we can talk about it"

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

"Thats why...." You said softly explaining the whole incident that had happened as you averted your eyes to someplace , while Nacha takes in all the information. "I don't really get this doppelganger thing, but you seem like a lovely and kind person Y/n.."

"We appreciate you and your doorman duties, remember to take care of yourself whenever" Nacha said as she smiled at You, your venting didn't include your growing admiration for the milkman because well...

From what you know Nacha is Francis ex-wife and its hella awkward to tell her you had a crush on her ex-husband.

"Your muffins are good-" You said breaking away from the topic as you took a bite from the blueberry muffin she offered earlier when you entered her house.

"Why thank you, i baked them with Anastacha" Nacha said happily as she went to the fridge. "would you like some milk? I bought this, funny looking thing-" Nacha said as she pulled out a red bottle of...'Scarlet milk'

You choked on your muffin and soon recovered, you immediately rushed to Nacha and grabbed the bottle.

"Dont"

"D-dont?" Nacha asked confused as you took the bottle and examine it. "its a bottle of blood, where do you get this-"

"It was left by the main gates-"

"Nacha...I'm not crazy, do not..receive the scarlet milk next time" Nacha eyes were wide as she nodded to your statement. "Y/n perhaps you should get an eye shut for tonight? Y-you seem shaken-"

"I'm..." You inhaled as you let go of her shoulders. "Maybe i should" you said sorry as you made your way out of Nacha's apartment room.

"Sweet dreams, Y/n" Nacha said as you closed the door gently.

You stared at the bottle of blood on your hands as your eyebrows furrowed at it. "I'm not delusional..." you said to yourself as you threw away the Scarlet milk into the trash bin.

You went into your apartment for some sleep.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

You didn't manage to sleep at all, you keep hearing voices at night telling you to let them in.

'Y/n..'

Go away..

'Y/n!'

"GO AWAY!" you screamed as you stood up from your bed, it was 5:30 am in the morning.

"Y/n?" A familiar voice asked outside of your apartment door. "Francis?" You asked softly as you stood up from your bed.

You opened your door to see the Milkman all in his glory and uniform. "You alright? You screamed and i heard it from outside" he said as he stared at you with his tired eyes.

"Y-yeah..yeah I'm alright"

"You look..frightened" He stated as he noticed it from your appearance. "I'm fine Francis"

"Just a nightmare.."

"You hear them too?" Your eyes went wide as you stared at him. "What?"

"...mm..nevermind, maybe you should get ready..Ill head to work now, the milk dont deliver themselves" he muttered as he went ahead to the elevator.

"S-see you..." You were filled with mixed emotions, what does he mean 'you hear them too?' .

Is that why he's sleep deprived? At least you're not alone...

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚

You started another day of your shift as you opened the metal covers. "Dont let this be weirder than usual" you muttered to yourself as you turn to the gates to see the yellowish eyes.

You dropped your keys and rubbed your eyes , wondering if you're seeing it right.

The eyes were gone...

"There's nothing..nothing at all-" you said to yourself to reassure, and went to your office.

...

The day went weirder, doppelgangers are trying to get in more frequently than usual. It was stressing, doppelgangers get angrier each time they're caught and you feared for your life and the apartments residents life.

"I'm okay.."

'I'm okay' you said to yourself as you keep going, you feel like breaking down. One wrong decision all blame will be pointed at you, and you alone..

"Mmm...Hello" Francis said tired as usual entering the hall in front of your office.

"Francis-" you said as he showed you his papers. "You alright Y/n?"

"J-just...overwhelmed" you answered as you checked his information.

"Mm...take a rest after this"

"I-i should..." You said softly as you opened the metal door for him to get in.

"Mm...Hello"

What...

Your eyes went wide as you stared at the second Francis. "You're a doppelganger-"

"What...?"

"Stop playing with me!" You said frustrated and angry. "Y/n you need to calm down...i just got off from my delivery shift"

Oh no..

Oh noo..

"Francis?!" You cursed under your breath and let him in your office. "Whats happening-" the milkman asked confused and exhausted from work.

"Stay in here- dont leave" you said as you grab your walkie talkie. "Press the emergency button and call D.D.D. when i page you through this" you explained as you hand him the spare device.

"Okay.."

"Please...be safe" you said as you closed the metal covers and door on your way out of the office, you went in the apartments and hit the emergency button to immediately alert the residents to close their rooms.

"You're no fun at all..." Said the doppelganger by the end of the hallway holding the tray of Scarlet milk.

"And you're a threat" you said as you pulled out your gun that was given to you by the D.D.D. services. He rushed to you as he tackled you down on the ground, bottles of Scarlet milk shattered on the way he dropped it near you staining both of your uniform and his.

"I told you ill get back at you" he said hungrily as his tongue licked your face. You kicked his stomach and crawled to the direction where you dropped it, but he stepped on your hand and laughed at you.

"No one would remember you" he started as he presses his foot on your hand making you scream in pain. "They'll see you as a crazy security that let in a threat"

"Oh yeah?" You managed to blurt out. "That doesn't matter, i bite" you said as you bit into his ankle Making him step back and let out a frustrated groan.

"FRANCIS-" you page into your walkie talkie. "CALL D.D.D. NOW--"

You grabbed the gun but the doppelganger kicked you to the nearest wall. "You protect their lives but who will protect you?"

He walked to you with one of the Scarlet milk. "No one.." He grabbed your face as he smiled, his eyes were empty as he forced the bloody bottle into your mouth.

You pulled the trigger of your gun thats pointed on his shoulder and shot him.

He screeched in pain as his face start to distort into a monster form of creature that you fear to see. His form rapidly changing as he charged back at you only for you to shoot him twice on his head.

He fall down on the floor, his blood and yours everywhere on the hallway of the 1st floor.

Your eyes were heavy and your head hurts, soon enough you passed out...

[ncroissant]

this is based on @lordragamuffin's amazing fanart of bloody doppelgänger francis and real francis!!! minors please dni!!

imagine doppelgänger francis absolutely terrorizing the real francis.

he’d be so jealous, watching the way you handled your boyfriend. he’d quite literally be watching you two fuck every night, outside your balcony.

yeah, world domination was cool, but human sex looked too fun for him to pass up the opportunity.

sometimes you’d leave francis home alone when you worked overnights at the security office, while your boyfriend slept alone in his all too tight shirts.

for the past week, only when you were away, francis felt something, or someone, groping at his chest. but he was always almost half-asleep when he felt slender fingers swirling around his nipples.

he’d twitch and squirm in his sleep, huffing out moans whenever he felt something pinching and tugging at his nubs.

he thought he was going crazy.

and every morning, when he woke up from his nightly grope session, he’d always have an embarrassingly large mess in his pants. his dick was still hard, cum splattered in his boxers.

the next week, francis started having dreams about it. no face could be imagined for whoever was fondling with his chest, but he could feel the same fingers on him every night.

he thought he was just horny, missing you on the nights you weren’t there. but even when you were there, he’d feel so guilty, praying to the dream gods that he’d have a wet dream about the mystery groper, playing with his perky nipples.

then finally, one fateful night, he woke up to finally see fingers stuffed under his shirt. he was still disoriented, squirming under the cold fingers of the mystery groper.

“w-who, haah, are you…?” francis panted, throwing his head back with his tongue lulled out. the fingers were moving too fast for him to protest, nails slightly scrapping the tips.

there was no response. the only noise that filled the room were the whimpers and moans from francis. he was so needy, drool sliding out of his mouth at the immense pleasure he felt. he couldn’t even fathom how good he felt from how just his nipples.

“mmngh! c-can you, aghnn, tell me, please?” he was so polite, even while some stranger was pulling at his stupidly perky nipples, testing if any milk work come out.

doppelgänger francis would just silently chuckle at his copy’s desperation. he’d flick one bud, while rubbing the other with his thumb. whatever made his copy twitch, he’d do it over and over again to see him squirm.

humans are so stupid, he thought.

he looked down to see the mess that was brewing between francis’ legs, before finally giving francis a clue. “why not…you let me replace you, hm?”

francis tried to hide the moans that were spilling out of his lips at the revelation, but his mind was so hazy for him to even refute. “n-nggGH!” he mewled when doppel squeezed both nipples at the tips.

“i’ll play with you like this every night, then i pretend to be you in the day, hm?” doppel proposed, shivers rolling down francis’ spine. the heat of doppel’s breath brushed against his ears making them tingle.

“t-that’s, ungh, not…” francis was grinding against the fabric of his underwear, completely out of it. he was so close. just a few more flicks would send this poor boy over the edge.

“c’mon, they won’t even notice. i can play with these pretty things like this,” he flicked at francis’ buds, pressing kisses against his flushed neck. “such pretty tits, hm?” he chuckled, cupping his chest.

that comment sent francis over the moon. his heart was nearly thumping out of his chest and cum splattered on the inside of his pants.

“guess i trained you well. they’re bigger than before,” doppel didn’t waiver when francis came, continuing to torment his pink nubs. they were throbbing, sensitive to the touch.

francis’ drool dropped to his chin, his eyes rolled back all the way. “n-no, i jus’...hnghh, c-came. ‘s too soon, ngh…” he moaned, cheek smushed against the pillow.

“maybe give me the answer i wanna hear, ‘n i’ll let you have a little break, yeah?” doppel growled, sucking hickies lower down his neck.

francis’ breath hitched, shaking his head. “d-don’t, eek! d-don’t leave marks, they’ll see, mngh, them!” he pleaded.

doppel smirked, rolling his fingertips over francis’ nipples soothingly. it was slow, too slow. “ooohhngh…y-you can, hn, take over f’me…” francis cutely agreed, biting his lower lip.

“yeah? ‘n i’ll play with you every night, right?” doppel grinned widely, sucking on francis’ earlobe.

francis’ eyes were squeezed shut, flushed from the neck down. “m-mhm! p-please…” francis begged, trying to puff his chest out for more friction.

“alright. you said it yourself, so don’t go crying to me when you can’t take it anymore,” doppel chuckled darkly, tugging francis’ nipples with a squeeze.

“haaaAANGH!”

[s1m0nth3swag]

i apologise if i already sent this ask, my memory is terrible! if your requests are open, may i get an easily flustered male Reader/doorman who is mercilessly teased and flirted with by a doppelganger Francis and the real Francis watches? Whenever it's smut or not is up to you

I just absolutely need to imagine Scarlet Milk Francis and regular Francis.... thats a physical need actually.

Like flirty Scarlet Milk and Francis who's just like "bro i would never say that, cringe" UNTIL HE NOTICES READER GETTING FLUSTERED AND HE JUST GOES "damn. whore." (judgy Francis for the win <3)

I'm not at all down bad for Scarlet Milk Francis wdym this is normal, isn't it?

Also, uhm, uhm, a little badly written because I wrote this in Latin Class, and my brain is positively fried!

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Slight suggestive themes (not full blown smut though), Francis being judgy, Reader being down bad (relatable), part two worthy bullshit (because i love the thought of taking Scarlet Milk and Francis (totally in a fight.))

Blood. That's the first thing you noticed as your favourite Milkman walked in. He was covered in blood. When asked about it, he simply said it was 'Scarlet Milk', a new type of milk. You had simply nodded along, like yeah. This was totally normal. Not like you had let the actual milkman in just a few minutes later, and you knew that if you called the apartment his voice would sound from the telephone. You reached there, eyes fixed on the doppelganger - you had always thought Francis was attractive but this.. well, it was definetly a new high. "Don't call him." The doppelganger spoke, voice too sweet and buttery. He knew he'd gotten caught, but seemingly he.. didn't mind. He smiled at you through the small window that seperated the hall and your office. "Bet the real one doesn't even bat an eye at you, hm? You're so good looking, he really should." You flushed slightly, even though you know you shouldn't. This was a doppelganger, for gods sake! A ruthless monster that could easily kill you! Yet here you were, blushing at the fake Francis. And he knew he got you on the hook, you could tell by the grin that adorned his face.

If you had known that the actual Francis still stood just outside the door that led into the building, and had seen the fact that a Doppelganger with his face had walked in, you probably wouldn't be talking to it anymore. Much less if you had known that Francis hurriedly made his way to your office - he trusted you didn't have a memory of five seconds, but something told him you were in trouble. He didn't even bother knocking, just opened the door to what was probably the weirdest scene ever. You with a bright blush covering your face, his doppelganger having a shit eating grin on his face... Yeah this had to be a fever dream.

Meanwhile, you were absolutely done for. Sweet nothings, things you didn't think anyone would dare speak out loud - the doppelganger had probably given you the most compliments you'd ever received in your lifetime. You turned around in shock as you heard the door open, staring at the real Francis like a deer caught in headlights. "Look who decided to join us! Real me!" The doppelganger chuckled. "Was just telling this sweet thing what I'd do to them if they let me in." He purrs, tapping against the window teasingly. "They got real shy about it." You glared at the doppelganger, looking between him and the actual Francis. "What'd he say." Francis practically demands to know, and your cheeks flush a deeper shade of red at the thought of having to repeat the things the doppelganger said. This was probably a moment to sink into the ground forever. "Just said I'd give them something to do with those pretty lips. And then some other things.." The doppelganger answers in your stead. Yup, you definitely want to get swallowed by the floor at this point. Francis looks at you, raising a brow in silent judgement. "Seriously? I'd never say stuff like that. That's stupid." He sighs, his face scrunching in a frown. "And honestly, you see me covered in blood and think "Yeah I'd fuck that"? Really?" He adds, serious annoyance in his voice, and you don't even know what's happening anymore because this whole situation is so unreal. "I'm sure I'm really handsome." The doppelganger quips in. "Though.. I would look better without this awful uniform, don't you think, sweets?" You let out a silent groan, covering your ears in embarrassment.

You don't know why this continued, but now Francis and the doppelganger are yapping about how the doppelganger doesn't get Francis' speech right - you seriously stopped listening after they both told you to shush when you said you'd just terminate the Doppelganger... you only listened to hints of the conversation. Something about sharing is caring or so.

God, how did you get yourself into this...

[guilty-ff]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐭.5

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Previously: After years of brutal torture by Francis, Y/N finally escaped, fighting her way out of the lab and fleeing into the dense woods. Each step was a struggle, but she knew she couldn't stop. With the guards on her heels, she disappeared into the shadows, determined to reclaim her life.

This story takes place between the second and third movies (warning: not 100% movie/comic accurate)

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x (fem!)Reader

Genre: Angst, revenge, Fanfiction, Marvel

Warnings: Movie Spoilers! Explicit content, swearing, torture, mental health, weapons

Word count: 3640

The slums were from now on her home. Y/n had escaped from the clutches of the facility, but the scars of her past- both mental and physical- were still engraved deeply in her body. The nights were the hardest, when the world around her was quiet and the memories screamed the loudest. She lived in a cramped, old apartment, the flickering neon lights outside her window casting shadows on the walls.

It had been weeks since her escape, weeks of hiding and laying low, blending into the filthiness of the city. Here, she was just another face in the crowd, another soul struggling to survive. But she was different. She could feel the darkness within her, the uncontrollable power that surged through her veins. She had to find a way to control it, to suppress it before it consumed her.

Y/n spent her days looking for information, piecing together bits of knowledge about mutants, about powers like hers. She searched through the back alleys and seedy bars, listening to rumors and whispered conversations. Slowly, she began to understand the nature of her abilities, the twisted gift that had been forced upon her. But understanding was not enough. She needed control.

One night, in a ed bar that reeked of sweat and stale beer, Y/n finally found a lead. She had been sitting at the counter, nursing a glass of cheap whiskey, when she overheard a conversation between two men at the next table. They spoke in low tones, their words slurred from alcohol, but Y/n's ears caught every word.

"Essex House... that place was a nightmare," one of the men muttered, his face half-hidden in the shadows. "They did some real messed up shit there."

The other man, a burly figure with a ashen beard, nodded grimly. "I heard they had a way to control mutants. Some kind of device."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat. She leaned closer, pretending to adjust her coat as she listened.

"Yeah, I know a guy who used to work there," the bearded man continued. "Big guy, real quiet. He hangs around here sometimes."

Y/n did not waste any time. She slid over to their table, her movements smooth. "Mind if I join you?" she asked, her voice low and steady.

The men exchanged a glance, then shrugged. "Sure, why not?" the bearded man said, gesturing to the empty seat.

Y/n sat down, fixing them with a piercing gaze. "I couldn't help but overhear. You mentioned Essex House. I'm looking for someone who worked there. A guard, maybe?"

The first man, looked her up and down suspiciously. "Why do you want to know?"

"Let's just say I'm looking for answers," Y/n replied, her tone leaving no room for argument. "If you can help me, I'd appreciate it."

The bearded man scratched his chin, his eyes narrowing. "I don't know his name, but he's usually around here. I'd be careful, though. He doesn't like to be bothered."

"Point him out," Y/n she said, her eyes scanning the bar.

The bearded man nodded toward the far corner, where a large figure sat hunched over the bar, nursing a drink. "That's him."

Y/n followed his gaze and saw the man- a huge, muscled frame with a shaved head and a face that looked like it had seen more than its fair share of violence. He was a mountain of a man, his broad shoulders hunched over as he downed another shot of whiskey. There was a darkness about him, an aura of danger that warned others to keep their distance.

Y/n thanked the men and made her way toward the bar, her eyes never leaving the figure in the corner. She did not approach him directly, instead choosing to observe him from a distance, waiting for the right moment. 

The man continued to drink heavily, oblivious to the world around him. It was not long before he started to show signs of drunkenness- his movements sloppy, his head nodding as if fighting off sleep.

Now. This was her chance.

Y/n moved swiftly, her steps silent on the worn wooden floor. She slipped behind the man, her hand reaching into her coat to retrieve a small vial of chloroform and a cloth. In one fluid motion, she pressed the cloth over the man's face, her other arm locking around his throat.

The man struggled, his instincts kicking in despite his drunken state, but Y/n was quick and precise. Within seconds, his body went limp, his heavy frame slumping against the bar.

She wasted no time. With the strength born from desperation, Y/n dragged the unconscious man out of the bar, navigating through the back alleys until she reached her hideout.

The basement of an abandoned building, it was cold and damp, the walls lined with old newspapers and broken furniture. She had set up a small, makeshift interrogation room- just a chair and a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

Y/n tied the man to the chair, securing his wrists and ankles with thick rope. She stood back, her heart pounding as she waited for him to wake up. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, her hands shaking slightly as she paced the room.

Finally, the man moved slightly, his dazed eyes blinking against the harsh light. He groaned, tugging at the ropes before realizing he was restrained. Panic flickered across his face as he looked around, his gaze settling on Y/n, who stood before him with a cold, determined expression.

"What the hell—?" he began, his voice stammered from the lingering effects of the chloroform.

"Shut up," Y/n snapped, stepping closer. "I'm the one asking questions. You're going to answer them."

The man's eyes narrowed, anger replacing his initial fear. "You've got no idea who you're messing with."

"Oh, I think I do," Y/n replied, her voice icy. "You used to work at Essex House. You were a guard there."

The man's expression hardened, his jaw clenching. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Y/n's patience was wearing thin. She had spent too long hiding, too long searching for answers, to be stonewalled by this brute. She leaned in, her face inches from his, her voice low and menacing.

"Don't lie to me," she hissed. "I know what they did in that place. The experiments, the torture. I know about the children. If you think I'm bluffing, you're sorely mistaken."

The man's boldness stopped for a moment, but he quickly recovered, sneering at her. "You don't know shit."

Her hand moved faster than he could react, striking him hard across the face. His head snapped to the side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"I said, don't lie to me!" Y/n shouted, her voice trembling with fury. "I know what kind of monster you are. I know what you did to those kids. Now tell me about the device that suppresses mutant powers."

The man spat blood onto the floor, glaring up at her aggressively. "Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you."

Y/n's fist connected with his jaw again, this time with more force. The man groaned, his head lolling forward as he struggled to stay conscious.

"You have no idea what I've been through," Y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The things I've seen, the pain I've endured. If you think for one second that I won't make you suffer, you're dead wrong. Now, talk."

The man's resolve began to crumble under the weight of her words, the fear returning to his eyes. He took a heavy breath, finally giving in.

"There's a wristband," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "It was designed to suppress mutant powers. But that place... it's gone. Some kid blew it up, the whole building came down."

Y/n's heart raced as she absorbed his words. "Where can I find one?"

The man hesitated, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for a way out. Finally, he sighed in defeat.

"Maybe there's still some in the storage rooms beneath the building. But it's dangerous. The whole place is crawling with security, even now."

Y/n stared at him for a long moment, her mind racing. She had what she needed, but the anger still burned within her, the memories of those children haunting her every thought.

"And one more thing," the man added, his voice a broken whisper. "There were others involved in that explosion. A man in a red and black suit... mutants from the X-Men... and some scary guy with a teddy bear."

The mention of the man in the red and black suit made Y/n's blood run cold. Wade. The man responsible for her suffering. But she pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

"Thank you," she said coldly, before slamming her fist into his face one last time. The man's head snapped back, and he slumped in the chair, unconscious.

"You deserve much more, you little piece of shit," Y/n muttered, her voice thick with disgust. She untied him and dragged him out to a nearby street, leaving him there to be found. She had no use for him anymore.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈•

The ruins of Essex House stood before Y/n like a tombstone, a monument to the atrocities that had taken place within its walls. The once impressive structure was now a gutted shell, its walls burned and crumbling, overtaken by creeping vines and nature's slow reclamation. The air was thick with the stench of decay and rot, a fitting aura for a place that had been a living nightmare for so many.

Y/n moved silently through the rubble, her senses heightened, every sound increased in the stillness of the night. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long, sinister shadows that danced across the broken ground. 

She had checked out the area earlier, avoiding the main entrances, which were still patrolled by security teams guarding whatever was left in the aftermath of the explosion, a few months ago. She needed to find the storage rooms beneath the building, where the guard had said the wristbands might still be.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked through a craggy opening in the wall, her eyes scanning the darkened interior. The building's skeleton remains were a labyrinth of broken beams and collapsed ceilings, the floors plastered with rubble and shattered glass. Every step was a calculated risk, the floorboards creaking ominously beneath her weight.

Y/n made her way down a long corridor, the walls covered in peeling paint and faded sceneries that had once depicted happy, smiling children- an ironic touch for a place that had been anything but.

Her breath stuck in the throat like there's a blockage as she approached a large door at the end of the corridor, its frame cracked and splintered. The guard's words echoed in her mind, urging her forward. She pushed the door open, and stepped into a vast chamber that had once been a laboratory.

Y/n's breath stopped as her eyes landed on the twisted metal chair in the center of the room. It was unmistakable- a torture device designed to restrain and torment its victims. The cold steel of the torture chair, the searing pain of electric currents coursing through her body. The sight of it brought a wave of nausea crashing over her, memories of her own time in such a chair flooding her mind, the mocking laughter of Francis as he watched her suffer in agony.

Flashback

She was strapped to the chair, her wrists bound with cold, hard metal. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of disinfectant and blood. Francis stood before her, his cold eyes glinting with sadistic glee. He was dressed in his usual black combat gear and white coat, his arms folded as he watched her struggle against the restraints.

"Ready for another round, sweetheart?" he sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She was drenched in sweat, her body trembling from the aftershocks of the last session. She had lost count of how many times he had done this to her, how many times he had pushed her to the brink of death, only to pull her back and start again.

"Please... no more," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Francis chuckled, his laughter a cruel, grating sound that echoed in the small room. "Oh, I'm just getting started," he said, reaching for the control panel beside the chair. His fingers danced over the buttons, and a low hum filled the air as the machine powered up.

Y/n's eyes widened in fear as the currents of electricity surged through her body, her muscles spasming uncontrollably. The pain was unbearable, like being ripped apart from the inside. She screamed, the sound tearing from her throat, but there was no one to hear her, no one to save her.

Francis watched with detached amusement, his expression one of mild curiosity. "You know, it's fascinating," he mused, his voice calm and measured. "Watching how much pain a person can endure before they break. You're tougher than most, I'll give you that."

Her vision blurred as the pain reached a crescendo, her mind teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. But she held on, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her broken. She had to survive, had to escape, no matter what it took.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the currents stopped, and Y/n slumped in the chair, her body limp and exhausted. Francis leaned in close, his face inches from hers.

"Don't worry, darling," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "We'll keep doing this until you learn to behave."

Present

Y/n snapped back to the present, her hands trembling as she stared at the torture chair. The memories were like a vice around her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. But she could not afford to break down now, not when she was so close. She forced herself to move, to search the room for the wristband.

The storage room was hidden behind a steel door, half-buried under rubble. Y/n unlocked it with a crowbar she had found earlier, using all her strength to pull the door free. Inside, she found a small, windowless room lined with shelves. Dust coated everything, the air stale and suffocating. She searched through the shelves, her hands moving frantically as she searched for the device.

Finally, her fingers closed around a small, sleek wristband, its surface smooth and cold to the touch. This was it- the device that could suppress her powers, that could give her the control she so desperately needed.

But as she pulled the wristband from the shelf, a shrill alarm pierced the air, the sound reverberating through the building. Panic surged through Y/n as she realized she had triggered a security system, her heart racing as the distant sound of footsteps echoed through the halls.

She had to get out, and fast.

Y/n bolted from the storage room, clutching the wristband tightly in her hand. She sprinted down the corridor, her mind a blur as she searched for an escape route. The footsteps were getting closer, the shouts of guards filling the air.

She spotted a window at the end of the hall, its glass cracked but still intact. Without hesitation, she launched herself at it, her shoulder slamming into the glass. The window shattered with a deafening crash, and Y/n tumbled through the opening, her body twisting in midair.

The world spun around her as she rolled to her feet, glass shards cutting into her skin. But there was no time to stop, no time to recover her injuries. The guards were right behind her.

Y/n ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she sprinted through the darkened streets. The sounds of pursuit faded into the distance, but she did not stop. She could not stop. Not until she was safe.

Finally, after what felt like hours, she slowed to a halt, her body aching and exhausted. She had made it. She had escaped, and she had the wristband. But as she stood there, alone in the shadows, the memories of Essex House lingered in her mind, a reminder of the horrors she had endured- and the revenge she would soon unleash.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈•

Y/n sat in her dimly lit hideout, the cold, metal wristband clasped tightly in her hand. She had waited for this moment, the promise of control over her powers finally within her grasp. With a deep breath, she slipped the wristband onto her wrist. A series of tiny, almost inaudible clicks signaled its activation. She felt a slight hum of energy ripple through her body, a sensation that was both foreign and strangely comforting.

"Okay, Y/n," she whispered to herself, her voice barely more than a murmur in the silence. "Time to see if this thing really works."

Her heart pounded in her chest as she picked up a small, sharp knife. She took a moment to steel herself before pressing the blade against the palm of her hand. Slowly, deliberately, she drew the knife across her skin, wincing as a thin line of blood welled up. She braced herself for the familiar agony of her powers activating, but to her astonishment, the pain remained localized. The cut did not heal as it usually would.

"It works," she breathed, a mix of relief and awe in her voice. "It actually works."

She wrapped her hand in a bandage, her mind already racing with the possibilities. For the first time in years, she felt like she had a measure of control over her life, over her destiny. She was not just a victim of her circumstances; she could be the master of them.

Over the next two years, Y/n threw herself into training with a passion that bordered on obsession. She perfected her combat skills, mastering various martial arts and weapons. She trained with knives, guns, and swords, each session pushing her limits further. Her hideout became a makeshift dojo, littered with training equipment and weapons of all kinds.

Her reputation in the slums grew as she took on hitman jobs to fund her training. She became a ghost, an unseen force of retribution for those who could not fight back.

One evening, she was approached by a woman with bruised arms and tear-streaked cheeks.

"Please," the woman begged, her voice trembling. "My husband... he beats me. I can't take it anymore. Please, make him stop."

Y/n looked into the woman's eyes, seeing the same helplessness and desperation she had felt so many times before. "What's his name?" she asked quietly.

"Jack. Jack Thompson. He works at the docks," the woman replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n nodded. "Consider it done. He won't hurt you again."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈•

Two years had passed since Y/n had escaped from Francis, two years of relentless training and hard-earned survival. She decided it was time to visit her own grave, a symbolic gesture to honour the person she once was. She made her way to a small flower shop, her mind set on finding the perfect bloom.

As she approached the counter to pay for a single white lily, she saw a woman laughing and chatting with the shopkeeper. The sight made her freeze. It was Vanessa. Alive and well, her smile as bright as ever. Y/n's heart clenched painfully in her chest, pulling her hood that covered her face even more down. She quickly paid for the flower and fled the shop, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and anger.

She reached her grave, a simple, unadorned headstone with her name etched into the cold marble. The vase next to it was empty.

"I see," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Forgotten and abandoned, even in death."

She knelt down, placing the lily in the empty vase. "I can't remember my old self," she said softly, tears welling in her eyes. "She truly did die, as well as her trust in you."

Her thoughts turned dark as she slowly stood up. Wade had saved Vanessa, she realized, her mind piecing together the puzzle with cold clarity.

He must have used Cable's time travel device during the Mutant Rehabilitation incident to go back and save her... but he left me to die.

As she turned and walked away from the grave, she could feel a rising tide of hatred surging within her, anger directed at Wade for abandoning her, for choosing Vanessa over her.

Later that evening, Wade approached the same grave. He was dressed in his red and black costume, the weight of his grief and guilt heavy on his shoulders. In his hand, he held a brand-new flower and a polished vase. He had not missed a single visit, always coming back to this lonely, forgotten corner of the cemetery to leave a token of his sorrow and love.

As he knelt down to place the new flower in the vase, he noticed the fresh lily already there, wilting slightly in the cold night air.

"Who...?" Wade muttered to himself, confusion furrowing his brow. He looked around, but the cemetery was empty and silent.

He placed his own flower beside the lily, a pang of sadness piercing his heart. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the grave. "I'm so damn sorry."

He stood there for a long moment, staring at the headstone as if willing it to give him some sort of answer, some sign that she knew he had not given up on her, that he still mourned her every day.

But the silence of the graveyard offered no reunion, only deepened the gap of misunderstanding that was growing between them, unseen and unspoken.

As Y/n made her way back through the slums, her mind was a storm of emotions. She was determined now, fueled by a dark purpose. She had been forgotten, left to rot in the shadows while Wade had moved on, living his best life with Vanessa.

A twisted sense of revenge began to take root in her heart, and she knew that the next time she crossed paths with Wade, it would be on her terms. And when that day came, there would be a reckoning.

[wutheringcaterpillar]

What if Tommy is desperately (secretly) in love with his step sister, extremely protective, very sweet towards her, but always making sure she’s kept under his thumb just to keep others from taking her from him. Although nothing happened between them until she becomes betrothed to another, he snaps and ruins her so her betrothed wouldn’t want her which would make her stay under his thumb again.

Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy!

Sorry it took so long to come out! ❤️

Warnings: stepcest, age gap implied, smut, p in v,

Tommy sat beside the window in the arm chair, cigarette in his hands as his eyes drifted from a contract he’d been working on, glancing outside watching the gloomy weather.

The grandfather clock ticked quietly in the background, your footsteps thumping around upstairs in your bedroom.

It seemed as though it was just yesterday Tommy was taking you to piano lessons and telling you endless stories before bed but those days seemed to have past.

You and Tommy always had a rather close relationship since his mum married his dad. After she passed and his dad disappeared he was always the protector who spoiled you rotten as a child and even still to this day as now a grown woman. His crystal eyes focused on the wilting flowers beside the window, thoughts rummaging through his mind as he reminisced the days of past.

“How do I look?” Your voice echoed through the quiet room, pulling Tommy out of his nostalgic thoughts, throwing on a light hearted smile when he looked your way, hiding the intruding thoughts surfacing in his mind.

There you were in a royal blue sparkling dress, makeup painting your face lightly. Not that you needed it, you were quite beautiful without it.

Tucking his hands in his pockets Tommy stood from his seat, diminishing the cigarette in the glass ashtray before walking toward you.

“You look breathtakingly beautiful, as always. Come here.” You blushed from his compliment, heart palpitating anxiously when you leaned into his touch. With growing up came hormones but the profound, illicit thoughts you had for your brother you often found yourself burying such inappropriate feelings, knowing that it wasn’t ideal.

“Be safe tonight eh? I might be running a bit late but I’ll be there. Don’t let any of those bloaks try to whisk you away from me or I may just have to put a bullet through their brain.” You giggled softly into his toned chest, hands roaming his upper back. 

“No one could ever replace you, not even if they tried at the speed of sound.” Tommy hummed in agreement, your words bringing a tremendous amount of reassurance that he’d never admit he needed. 

“Ms. Shelby the car’s here!” Francis called after you. Biting down on your bottom lip and smiling awkwardly you bid Tommy goodbye, kissing him on the cheek before running out the door toward your friends and hopping in the car giddily.

He couldn’t help but worry that you were drifting away, the feeling unsettling his stomach just picturing you with another man or no longer living in the same house as him.

Glancing down at his watch, he released an uneasy breath before picking up his briefcase and heading toward his meeting.

Tommy being a man of knowledge and suspicion found himself unable to focus on the baboon sitting across from him, only thinking about what you were doing and if you were safe.The idea of men staring at you, flirting, fucking trying to get in bed with you etched in his brain. 

This meeting was getting nowhere as it was, the man trying to change the settled agreement with no good reason. This was a deal he could live without.

Removing his glasses, he sighed bored from the man’s piss poor negotiating.

“Alright, this is going fucking nowhere.” Tommy stood up shredding the piece of paper before tossing it in the fireplace.

“You can see yourself out Johnathan eh? I have more important places to be.” The man waved his hands in irritation.

“It’s Bill!” Tommy waved him off before heading out to your party.

When he walked in the music was blaring, definitely underage drinking going on not that he cared as long as it wasn’t you.

He spotted Arthur at the bar, approaching him first only to get a glimpse of you in the corner of the room sat on a sofa with a boy, immediately seeing red.

“Who the fuck is with our sister?” Arthur turned around in curiosity, lips still attached to the bottle still chugging the rest of his drink.

Releasing a exhale of pleasure, he gestured toward the young lad with his arm wrapped around your hips.

“Don’t even get me started on that worthless bloke. He’s the youngest of the Charleston family, they’re new to Birmingham. Y/N’s been seein him for a few weeks. Thought we taught her to respect herself that went out the window didn’t it brother, hm?” Tommy clenched his jaw in annoyance, dead pan staring at the boy’s hands wrapped far too lowly down your waist. Why didn’t you tell him? It would be rude if he didn’t introduce himself.

“Hold me drink Arthur. I’ll be back in a moment.” When Tommy turned around, Arthur made sure he wasn’t looking before finishing off his brother’s drink, a little blonde gal catching his eye in the process, steering him away from whatever the hell Tommy had planned.

Upon approaching you both, he heard the sound of your infectious giggle, so innocent and pure. Blood pumped through his veins realizing that you were slipping away from him, you were growing up.

“Am I interrupting something?” Tommy was shocked to see a beer in your hand and multiple empty ones sat on the table beside you. You were his baby sister, you didn’t drink, you didn’t partake in adult activities. Yet you didn’t seem intoxicated, perhaps that was your first beer, his good girl, but wait what the hell was this and why the fuck did this guy have his hand on your lap, why was he just kissing on your fucking neck. More importantly why was there now a ring on your fucking finger?

He made an incredulous look of disapproval before his breath nearly being taken out of him, your chest falling onto his as your wrapped your arms tightly around Tommy.

“Oh! Tommy I missed you! I was just talking about you to Matthew, I was hoping to introduce you sooner rather than later.” What the fuck was that supposed to be mean? What happened to the conversation from earlier? Tommy grasped your hips, your cleavage rubbing against the fabric of his shirt.

Tommy noticed the boy making a partially disoriented gesture, a look of confusion from the blatant display of affection that some would consider to be unordinary. His eyes dilated, fixating on the boy, challenging him to say something. 

Unsurprisingly he merely took a step back, putting his hands up in surrender that he didn’t want to fight, exactly what Tommy thought.

“Come on, let’s get you some water, eh?” You nodded against his chest, hand sloping down his arm until it clutched his muscular grip.

Walking off with you hand in hand, he guided you up the stairs to a back secluded room, voice booming for the crowd of people to get out.

Sitting you down on the sofa gently, he could feel your eyes watching his every move as he pulled down a glass from the cabinet, filling it with water to help you sober up. 

“Drink this.” 

“Tommy I only had one beer.” He raised his eyebrows expectedly, motioning with his hand, insisting thar you drink it. For some reason your heart seemed to flutter with how willing he always to take care of you.

Downing the glass, you set it on the table before kicking your shoes off and reclining back against the arm rest, Tommy already feeling the tightening in his pants seeing the bare skin of your leg. 

Scoffing, he pushed your legs back down and grabbed the small of your wrist, pulling you closer. His breath was hot against your skin, lips just inches away from the lobe of your ear.

“He doesn’t deserve you love…” Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his hand go below the fabric of your dress, inching upward toward the radiating heat in between your thighs. Your skin forming goosebumps from the not so innocent touch, the way he was caressing your bare skin swiftly, prompting your eyes to flutter shut, still trying to fight this immoral battle in your heart.

“What-um-what are you-“ His other hands brushed your chin, tilting your face to look at him before his lips landed on yours. The world seemed to stop for a moment, the feeling of your older brother’s lips on yours unexpectedly sensual, the anticipation for more causing your heart to beat rapidly.

You couldn’t resist from kissing him back, the mesmerizing sensation so wrong but so right. 

“I don’t want to see you with anyone else. That fucking low life and you fucking said yes?! You are finished with him, understand? We’ve always had something and you fucking know it.” You nodded against him nearly breathless, unable to form any thoughts other than what might be in his pants. 

Ripping your dress with his hands, you tugged at his suit, tossing the expensive fabric onto the floor when you fumbled with his belt.

The sound of music and people partying only heightening the desire for Tommy to take you right here right now.

In the midst of his tongue delving between your lips, he curled his hands with yours, fingers fumbling around until he found that god forsaken ring. Tugging off, he threw the shiny piece of jewelry on the floor, accessory rolling over to the corner of the room.

When his cock spring free, your eyes widened at the sight of his girthy length.

“Has he touched you here yet?” His skilled fingers carressed the slippery slope between your soaked folds, making you moan and whimper beneath him, shaking your head vigorously no. You dreamt of your brothers touch so long.

“I knew I raised you well my good girl.”

Tommy circled his thumb around your throbbing clit in slow circles, his index finger entering your right canal to ensure you weren’t lying.

“Tommy please!” 

He couldn’t find it in his heart to tell his baby sister no. No he’s waited much too long…

Aligning his cock, he readjusted himself so he was on his knees ready to drill into you and claim you as his own.

The head of his cock at your entrance only fueled your eager want to be taken.

Pushing the tip in, your winced below him from the slight uncomfortable feeling. He must have noticed when his hand glided down your thighs, caressing your hips with his calloused hand soothingly.

He couldn’t wait much longer to pick up speed with your warm cunt practically suffocating his cock.

The sight of you completely nude beneath him, legs spread on display while his cock was pushing inside you, he couldn’t hold himself back.

How could something so forbidden feel so right?

He snapped his hips forward, jolting your body upward not giving you anytime to adjust.

“Fuck! Tommy it feels so-“ He quieted your screams by covering you mouth raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Language sweetheart, we have to be quiet unless you want him to see.” The idea of someone walking in on your brother fucking you sending chills down your spine, pussy squeezing tightly around his cock.

“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last long. Up you go.” Without pulling out Tommy lifted you effortlessly from the sofa, pushing your back against the walls as his lips ravished your neck, pumping in and out of your dripping cunt.

“Oh fuck, faster, faster!” Your curls bounced gracefully on your shoulders, tits shaking in an up and down motion vigorously while one hand cusped his muscular shoulders other tangled his hair. 

You’d dreamt of this day for so long, you couldn’t help but glance down wanting to see your brother’s shaft completely buried inside you.

Did it hurt a bit? Yes, but the pleasure was so much more, little did you know Tommy knew how to pleasure a woman’s body so expertly.

You could feel your slick pouring out and swimming down his length, you were close so very close.

You craved his seed to paint your walls, for him to mark you as his own.

“Look at my girl, taking me cock so well..” Tommy smirked proudly in a fucked out gaze as beads of sweat formed on his chest.

“Gonna fill your tummy with my cum, make you walk out there with it dripping down your fucking legs for everyone to see.” You moaned sporadically, thighs twitching around his waist, toes curling as a euphoric orgasm claimed your body.

“Mm, Tommy, Tommy! Feels-fe-ohh…” You panted, holding onto him for dear life. If it weren’t for his hands gripping your ass cheeks below, you’d surely make your sweet descent to the hardwood floor.

Tommy’s blue charismatic eyes focused in on the fucked out expression, seeing your lips parted, face contorted into pure bliss. He couldn’t withhold any longer until he was pulsating inside of your cunt, painting the interior of your perfect pussy white with his seed.

“Y’know I’ve wanted you for so long, and now you’re fucking mine.” You nodded still too deliriously exhausted to form words. Pulling your chin to meet his sapphire eyes, he placed a powerful, dominating kiss to your plush lips before setting you down gently and settling you back down on the sofa while he gathered the clothes.

Looking at the dress, he deemed it still suitable as long as you hadn’t bent over it should still be wearable. 

“What about my underwear?” Tommy reached for his jacket after tightening his cufflinks.

“What do you need those for? C’mon love.” Your cheeks reddened, he wasn’t kidding about his cum dripping down your legs.

“Still look beautiful as ever. After you my love?” You glanced back at your brother before exiting the door, pressing your lips to his once more.

Tommy smiled softly, before nodding you off and realizing the ring was still on the floor.

Walking down the stairs with you, he encouraged you to go enjoy time with your friends, only to see Matthew in his way out ignoring Arthur practically fucking some inebriated girl against his brother.

Approaching the boy, you watched the scene unfold from afar, seeing what your dear brother would do.

“Eh!” He pulled the ring out of his pocket, clicking his tongue before shoving the object against the boy’s chest, merely towering over him.

“Here’s your fucking ring. Take it and get off my fucking property before I change my mind and kill your right here, right now.” Everyone in the room turned their eyes to the altercation, including Arthur. When the boy hadn’t moved, twiddling the ring in his grip still staring at Tommy with challenging eyes, calling a bluff, Arthur shoved the girl off of him ready to go to fucking war only for Tommy to hold him back with the wave of his hand.

“Look around kid. You have about five seconds to get out me fucking pub before I splatter your brains on this wall.” He still hadn’t moved, only tightening his fist.

“You think I won’t?” Tommy chuckled beneath his breath, a sadistic smile spreading across his lips before pulling out his gun, finger on the trigger pointing it directly at the middle of his forehead.

“5, 4, 3-“ The boy scattered out the door, satisfying Tommy that he’d never be back.

[floridaboiler]

"Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?"

In the darkness Calvin heard the sound of Susie, his wife of fifty-three years. Calvin struggled to open his eyes. God, he was so tired and it took so much strength. Slowly, light replaced the darkness, and soon vision followed. At the foot of his bed stood his wife. Calvin wet his dry lips and spoke hoarsely, "Did... did you.... find him?"

"Yes dear," Susie said smiling sadly, "He was in the attic.

"Susie reached into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin could not help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long.

"I washed him for you," Susie said, her voice cracking a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband.

"Thank you, Susie." Calvin said. A few moments passed as Calvin just laid on his hospital bed, his head turned to the side, staring at the old toy with nostalgia.

"Dear," Calvin said finally. "Would you mind leaving me alone with Hobbes for a while? I would like to catch up with him."

"All right," Susie said. "I'll get something to eat in the cafeteria. I'll be back soon."

Susie kissed her husband on the forehead and turned to leave. With sudden but gentle strength Calvin stopped her. Lovingly he pulled his wife in and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. "I love you," he said.

"And I love you," said Susie.

Susie turned and left. Calvin saw tears streaming from her face as she went out the door.Calvin then turned to face his oldest and dearest friend. "Hello Hobbes. It's been a long time hasn't it old pal?"

Hobbes was no longer a stuffed doll but the big furry old tiger Calvin had always remembered. "It sure has, Calvin." said Hobbes.

"You... haven't changed a bit." Calvin smiled.

"You've changed a lot." Hobbes said sadly.

Calvin laughed, "Really? I haven't noticed at all.

"There was a long pause. The sound of a clock ticking away the seconds rang throughout the sterile hospital room.

"So... you married Susie Derkins." Hobbes said, finally smiling. "I knew you always like her."

"Shut up!" Calvin said, his smile bigger than ever.

"Tell me everything I missed. I'd love to hear what you've been up to!" Hobbes said, excited.

And so Calvin told him everything. He told him about how he and Susie fell in love in high school and had married after graduating from college, about his three kids and four grandkids, how he turned Spaceman Spiff into one of the most popular sci-fi novels of the decade, and so on. After he told Hobbes all this there was another pregnant pause.

"You know... I visited you in the attic a bunch of times." Calvin said."I know."

"But I couldn't see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal." Calvin voice was breaking and tears of regret started welling up in his eyes."You grew up old buddy." said Hobbes.

Calvin broke down and sobbed, hugging his best friend. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I broke my promise! I promised I wouldn't grow up and that we'd be together forever!!"Hobbes stroke the Calvin's hair, or what little was left of it. "But you didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"We were always together... in our dreams."

"We were?"

"We were."

"Hobbes?"

"Yeah, old buddy?"

"I'm so glad I got to see you like this... one last time..."

"Me too, Calvin. Me too."

"Sweetheart?" Susie voice came from outside the door.

"Yes dear?" Calvin replied.

"Can I come in?" Susie asked.

"Just a minute.

"Calvin turned to face Hobbes one last time. "Goodbye Hobbes. Thanks... for everything...""No, thank you Calvin." Hobbes said.

Calvin turned back to the door and said, "You can come in now.

"Susie came in and said, "Look who's come to visit you.

"Calvin's children and grandchildren followed Susie into Calvin's room. The youngest grandchild ran past the rest of them and hugged Calvin in a hard, excited hug. "Grandpa!!" screamed the child in delight.

"Francis!" cried Calvin's daughter, "Be gentle with your grandfather.

"Calvin's daughter turned to her dad. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Francis never seems to behave these days. He just runs around making a mess and coming up with strange stories.

"Calvin laughed and said, "Well now! That sound just like me when I was his age.

"Calvin and his family chatted some more until a nurse said, "Sorry, but visiting hours are almost up.

"Calvin's beloved family said good bye and promised to visit tomorrow. As they turned to leave Calvin said, "Francis. Come here for a second.

"Francis came over to his grandfather's side, "What is it Gramps?"

Calvin reached over to the stuffed tiger on his bedside and and held him out shakily to his grandson, who looked exactly as he did so many years ago. "This is Hobbes. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him.""

He's just a stuffed tiger." Francis said, eyebrows raised.

Calvin laughed, "Well, let me tell you a secret.

"Francis leaned closer to Calvin. Calvin whispered, "If you catch him in a tiger trap using a tuna sandwich as bait he will turn into a real tiger."

Francis gasped in delighted awe. Calvin continued, "Not only that he will be your best friend forever."

"Wow! Thanks grandpa!" Francis said, hugging his grandpa tightly again.

"Francis! We need to go now!" Calvin's daughter called.

"Okay!" Francis shouted back

."Take good care of him." Calvin said.

"I will." Francis said before running off after the rest of the family.

Calvin laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. The time to go was close. He could feel it in his soul. Calvin tried to remember a quote he read in a book once. It said something about death being the next great adventure or something like that. He eyelids grew heavy and his breathing slowed. As he went deeper into his final sleep he heard Hobbes, as if he was right next to him at his bedside. "I'll take care of him, Calvin..."Calvin took his first step toward one more adventure and breathed his last with a grin on his face.

Credits: samuraitiger19 - from redditNote from the author - on reddit: "Wow... just wow... I am speechless here guys. I did not expect such a reaction to my story or prompt. I am not worthy of your praise or your gold. I am truly humbled. Thanks so much! I'm truly glad so my story touched so many people".

https://www.facebook.com/groups/315603703347018

[notmyneighbor]

instinct | doppel francis mosses x detective female reader

tnmn au

rating | explicit

part 1/?

words | 3.3k

cw | none for this chapter

summary | When you get assigned a new partner to work the latest serial killer case, you’re less than thrilled to find out it’s a doppelganger.

But with a lack of evidence, no clear suspects, and a rising body count, you have no choice but to trust the replicant posing as Francis Mosses…

ao3 link

fanart credit | kri_stasss on X

taglist | @maskedpacific @dreamndestiny

When you get assigned a new partner to work the latest serial killer case, you’re less than thrilled to find out it’s a doppelganger.

His track record is good; you can’t argue with the results he’s achieved thus far. The replicant has proven to be an invaluable resource time and again. He’s easily the most efficient doppel tracker the force has had on their side to date. Even with this evidence and history, you just don’t think it’s smart working so intimately with such a dangerous former foe. Maybe a free pass on extermination is enough of a motivating factor for turning traitor on his own kind, but if the doppel can betray that easily, it makes you wonder how long this alleged truce with humans is really going to last.

You hate to admit you’re running out of options. There are no solid leads on this case you’re working. The bodies are piling up, the DNA proving the killer is attacking both humans and doppelgangers, and the citizens are demanding protection and vengeance. You’ve seen the mayor pressuring the chief, the blustery, red faced politician’s voice carrying through the closed office door. The violent criminal has to be caught. His re-election campaign was in danger, the satisfaction rating plummeting. Use whatever resources are necessary. Yes, even that bloody doppel.

Which brings you to your current situation, where a voice behind your shoulder politely inquires what your name is, and you swivel around from your desk to see your new partner: the doppelganger himself. At first, you’re skeptical about his current appearance. A milkman? Really? This is what they’ve given you to work with? This is what’s going to assure your victory? But then you start thinking about it a little longer. This Francis Mosses, as he’s apparently going by, has access to a lot of residences. By his very nature, the false delivery man might draw out someone who would otherwise not let their guard down. The man he’s imitating looks exhausted, those slightly puffy, bruised sockets speaking volumes, but his smile is a thousand watts, warm and friendly and inviting, his voice soothing and calm. He looks trustworthy and reliable. He’s certainly easy on the eyes. Nothing a housewife is going to mind looking at, if you’re being honest. Hell, you must be overdue for a date, if you’re starting to think a replicant is attractive. Regardless, you’re forced to admit that maybe, just maybe, this is actually kind of a genius ploy after all.

You’ve narrowed down the radius of the killer’s attack locations to a specific neighborhood. Outside the city. Middle class families. Picket fences. Tidy yards. The kind of place kids sell lemonade on the sidewalk and the mothers bake cookies for the church fair fundraiser. The community is clearly shaken. You don’t see young children playing outside as you patrol the area, surveying the suburban residences, amazed at how quiet it is this late in the morning. Not even any idle chatter of neighboring women while bringing the dry laundry in from the clothesline. You can feel the tension when you park the car neatly along the curb a block away from the imposter milkman’s delivery truck. It’s as if the entire neighborhood is holding its breath, waiting.

You see the doppel you’re partnered with in the rearview mirror, approaching at a casual pace. He slides into the passenger seat smoothly, handing over a piece of paper with several addresses written on it.

“Confirmed? You’re certain?”

“All doppel occupied. But I’ve got something to tell you that you’re not going to like.”

You sigh, letting the hand clutching the paper drop heavily into your lap. “Go ahead.”

“I don’t think it’s a replicant behind this.”

You glance over at Francis’ clone. “What makes you say that?”

“Because they’re all fingering the same man. Who’s human.”

“Bullshit,” you curse dismissively.

“Why bullshit? What makes you so certain it’s a mimic doing this?”

“Because of the condition of the bodies, for one thing. Consistent with how doppels attack.”

“Or a very good imitation. A copycat of a copycat. You don’t find it strange that there are never any bite wounds on the victims?”

“Maybe the doppel wasn’t hungry.”

“We’re always hungry,” the doppelganger replies softly.

You shudder. “Yeah, well, I’ve worked my fair share of homicide cases, and I can tell you this isn’t perpetrated by a human.” You glance down at the list. “I guess we can start going door to door. Call for backup, make some arrests.”

“None of these residents are guilty. They’ve worked too hard to assimilate into the community.”

You blink in disbelief. “Is that what you think they really want? Just to be neighbors and coexist peacefully? No way. There’s only one thing they want. Everyone in this community is at risk as long as these doppels live here.”

“Do you think you know more about a doppelganger’s motives than I do?” The reprimand is gently issued, further fueling your ire.

You glare at the milkman’s copy. “Look. I know you’ve worked some cases and have helped out a lot. And I know the chief seems to trust you. I, quite frankly, don’t.”

“Then this partnership isn’t going to work out. Trust is essential.”

“Exactly.”

“What harm can it do to investigate the individual that the doppels are suspicious of?”

“Because it means potentially wasting time. Letting the true murderer claim another victim.”

“That doesn’t match the pattern, though. There’s a delay in between the killings. No one is going to fall prey for five more nights.” The replicant tugs the black brimmed cap off his head and scrubs a hand through his hair. “I think we should do a stakeout.”

Your mouth gapes in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“What about this list? You really expect me to just let these doppels go free?”

“If I’m wrong, you could always still round up the mimics. But I’m not wrong.”

“Cockiness killed the doppel,” you mutter, leaning forward slightly to start the engine.

“It’s been known to take out a few humans as well, I’d wager.” The replicant rubs his thumb over the coating of dust on the dashboard. The vehicle was long overdue for a proper cleaning.

God, he is so infuriating. “Alright. Meet me at the station around ten.”

“Nine would be better. Then we can grab a bite to eat.”

You glance at the doppel warily. “What is it you want?”

“Oh, any drive thru will do. Though I’m partial to hamburgers.” He grins, winking and then tugs on the door handle, exiting the vehicle as neatly as he’d entered.

You shake your head, easing back onto the road. You swear he’s still smiling when you check your rearview mirror.

***

You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised to see your partner wearing different clothes the next time you see him.

The milkman disguise is hardly appropriate for an evening surveillance mission. Naturally he’s shed the white uniform for a dark colored suit, and it looks…well, a lot better, to be honest. The moodier colors suit him. He greets you with that little bemused smirk of his that you’re beginning to realize is one he adopts often in your presence, and you purposefully avoid returning the gesture, entering the sedan silently.

Francis’ doppel settles beside you. “I can drive, you know.”

“Absolutely not.” You shift gears and the car peels out of the police station parking lot with a squeal of protest from the tires.

The replicant raises an eyebrow, reaching for the seatbelt and you roll your eyes. “What?” The innocent expression only irritates you further.

You detour long enough to order food for both of you, surprised when French fries and soda are part of the clone’s request.

“I didn’t think doppels ate much beyond meat.”

“We can ingest other things too. Little nutritional value, but tasty.” He sneaks a fried wedge of potato from the paper bag sitting on his lap.

“Hey. Keep your grubby paws out of the bag. We have a long night ahead of us.”

You pass the person of interest’s house and find the overgrown lot across the street at the corner a perfect place to back the car into, effectively concealing it from view.

You crack your window and look a question over at the doppel, who nods and you repeat the process for his side. The suspect’s front porch light is on and there’s a single car parked in the driveway. You’ve already run his name through the database. Unpaid parking meter, a speeding ticket, and that was it. Bachelor. Middle aged. Professor. Brief interviews with the next door neighbors revealed he was a quiet, polite man that kept mostly to himself and remained primarily indoors. Nothing particularly incriminating that you could see so far. You’re not ready to meet the man himself just yet. If this really is the one, though you still have strong doubts that this is the man who’s been eluding the authorities so successfully, it wouldn’t do to alert the possible suspect of your suspicions, lest that spook him and provoke an unfortunate reaction.

You’re aware of the heavy gaze of the doppel seated beside you and you sigh. “Yeah, go ahead. Might as well while it’s still hot.”

Needing no further instruction, the contents of the bag are quickly unpacked. You’ve opted for chicken nuggets and fries and a milkshake. He hands you your share of the meal and then samples another pair of French fries with a contented sigh.

You eat in silence after that, nibbling contemplatively, listening to the crickets chirping outside. A dog begins barking but is quickly silenced. No signs of movement in your field of vision.

“He’s not going to make a move tonight. I told you, he’s following the pattern.”

“The pattern can change.”

“Possible, but not likely.”

“He’s not our guy.”

“He is.”

You tear the paper wrapper off of a straw and shove the plastic tube through the lid of your cup, taking a large swallow. “He’s not.”

Another pause. “This case means a lot to you.”

“Of course. We’re trying to save lives.”

“But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

You glance over at the doppelganger. “What do you mean?”

“It seems like you feel you have to crack this case. You have to be the one to solve it.”

You brush some granules of salt clinging to your fingertips off on a napkin, then crumple it into a ball and thrust it back into the empty bag. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Is it because of your gender?”

Your eyes snap back to the mimic’s face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m concerned. But I understand your species seems to favor male leadership. Certain roles are seen as more suitable to what is perceived as the weaker sex.”

“I’m not weak.”

“I didn’t say you are. But that’s what it is, isn’t it?” He persists, leaning toward you slightly. “You feel the need to prove yourself. To earn respect. To be in control. That’s why you wouldn’t let me drive. I’m right, aren’t I?”

You scoff and stare hard through the windshield, refusing to concede that the replicant has hit the nail squarely on the head. “Not even close.”

The doppel hums, the contents of his cup rattling as he reaches the bottom, the straw colliding with the pile of ice chips left behind.

“You’re done already?”

Francis’ clone grins, tossing the balled up foil wrapper of his sandwich and the French fry carton back in the bag. “Yes. It was delicious.”

“As good as chomping on a human?” You don’t really expect him to respond, but he does.

“No. Not nearly. Surely you can appreciate fresher, higher quality meat is…preferable.”

“When’s the last time you had it?”

“Are you really asking me the last time I consumed human flesh?”

You set your milkshake back down in the cupholder, finding you’re rapidly losing your appetite. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“It’s been awhile,” he says vaguely, his dark eyes glittering.

Suddenly you’re very eager to change the subject. “So how did you end up getting this gig, anyway? I doubt you just waltzed into the station and asked for the job.”

“No. I happened to rescue one of your kind. From your kind, might I add,” he replies, shifting in his seat to find a more comfortable position. “Then one thing led to another. An agreement was reached. Probation period. Proven. Trusted. And now, this,” he says, spreading his fingers.

“Why did you save the human?”

He shrugs, tugging at the knot of his tie and loosening it slightly. “I don’t know, to be perfectly honest. It’s hot in here.”

“I can put the windows down more, but the mosquitoes are likely going to sneak in…”

“I’ll just take my jacket off.” He depresses the button to release the seat belt, then begins shrugging out of one sleeve of his blazer, struggling a bit within the confines of the car’s interior, nearly whacking into you with an elbow more than once. He eventually completes the task and tosses the garment on the back seat and you mirror his movements, relieved you’d had the foresight to wear a short sleeve blouse. You watch the doppel roll his shirt sleeves up and the gesture is so disarmingly natural looking, so human, that it catches you off guard. You’d never have guessed, if you didn’t already know, that he was a replicant.

“What’s wrong?” He finishes securing the last sleeve.

“Nothing. I just…” Well, it’s going to sound absurd no matter how you phrase it, so you suppose you’ll just come out and say it. “You’re convincing. As a human. The best I’ve ever seen. There are so often tells. Unnatural speech or odd mannerisms. Aberrations in appearance. But you’ve got it nailed.”

“Is that a compliment, then?”

“It’s terrifying,” you admit. “You really could take over, if there were others as adept as you.”

His lip twitches, an eyebrow slightly quirking. “Imagine if I was the enemy.”

“Oh, that part’s easy.” You reach for the straw wrapper still sitting in the cupholder and unfold it, winding it around one index finger as you gaze at the target’s house. The nearest streetlamp’s bulb begins to flicker.

“If I was, I could attack right now. Have myself a nice little dessert.”

“So what’s stopping you?” You look the challenge at the doppelganger.

“I’m not the enemy.”

You shake your head, returning to your study of the residence across the street. “Who leaves the porch light on when they’re home?”

”Maybe that’s precisely why he’s doing it. If he makes that the norm, there’s no increase in suspicion when he does leave the house. Nothing to draw extra attention to himself.”

”How do the doppels even know for certain he’s the one? If you’re implying he doesn’t make mistakes…”

”Everyone makes mistakes, sooner or later. But to answer your other question, they all positively identified the same man. I was shown the same face, over and over. Word spreads quickly among our kind. Rather necessary for survival. They’re extremely wary, especially the original witness.”

”And they didn’t think to share that information with the police? We have no other statements. No evidence. Nothing to build this case, except this new information that’s from a dubiously reliable source.”

”Do you honestly expect that they would? Listen to yourself. Given how ready you are to have them arrested, how little faith you have in their words, we both know how that situation would resolve. No. They couldn’t possibly risk it.”

”Yet they all readily spilled their guts to you.”

”I’m one of them. And it didn’t happen on the first day, as you well know. It’s taken time to establish a relationship. Earn trust.” He fiddles with the leather band of his wristwatch. “Too hot,” he mutters, pulling the strap free of the buckle and dropping the watch onto the dashboard.

”Just sit still. Stop fidgeting. You’re supposed to be paying attention.”

”It’s a little difficult to see much from this vantage point.”

”Well, we can’t go closer without being obvious. I tried to tell you this was going to be a waste of time.”

”Heads up. Front door’s opening.”

Your eyes flick back towards the house. There is indeed a man emerging, carrying a trash bag to the curb and adding it to the contents of the barrel. He looks about slim to average build. Not overly strong or muscular looking, but you know that other factors can influence the ability to inflict the kind of horrific damage the serial killer you’re tracking has achieved. Psychosis. Illegal substances. Anything was possible. You watch as the man pauses after securing the lid, his head swiveling from side to side.

”Shit. He’s made us.” You shrink down further in your seat.

”No, I don’t think so,” the doppelganger murmurs. “He’s just checking. Habitual. Cautious. See, there he goes.”

The figure returns indoors, and the interior lights go dark seconds later.

”Going to bed.”

”Maybe.” You chew your bottom lip. “I want to know what’s in that rubbish bag.”

”Might be disappointingly ordinary.”

”What happened to you being convinced this guy is guilty?”

”Oh, I’m still certain. I just don’t think he’s going to provide evidence that easily.”

”Maybe we should start talking to people at the highschool. See if anyone’s got any dirt on him.”

”Thought you didn’t believe he’s the one?”

”I don’t. But it doesn’t hurt to be thorough. I want to talk to that supposed replicant witness, too.”

”You really hate the doppels, don’t you? If those had been human testimonies, I wonder how much differently you’d have reacted. For someone who’s worried about wasting time…”

”It’s not about whether I like doppels or not. I’ve already told you, I just want to solve this case and save lives. And I shouldn’t have to keep explaining myself to you.” You straighten, using the steering wheel to push yourself upright, then glance at your companion. His hair looks damp, falling in dark tendrils across his forehead. You feel perspiration beading on your own brow. You should have put the windows further down, insects be damned. You shouldn’t have been so skeptical earlier, dismissing potentially valuable information. The replicant is right, and you hate to admit it. You are prejudiced. You do hate the doppels. You’d always had good reason to, in the past. But now? Was he not proof that there are exceptions to every rule? The mere idea that there are doppels that just want to live peacefully beside humans should have given you more pause. Can it really be true?

”The doppels are terrified of this man,” Francis’ mimic says softly, interrupting your reverie. “And that fact, alone, should be reason enough to want to work cooperatively. We’re accustomed to threats on our lives from humans, but this is different. Just brutal slaughtering, so easily done, over and over, indiscriminately…”

”It’s how we feel, all the time. Being copied. Not knowing for certain who’s human. Surrounded by lies and deception.”

”But that’s how we survive. How we exist,” the replicant protests.

”It’s how you choose to exist,” you correct. “You don’t have to kill and eat us. I mean, that’s what you’ve proven, allegedly…” Your head tips back into the cradle of the headrest. “God, I can’t believe I’m getting into a debate with you.” Your hand absently strokes the delicate gold chain at your throat. “I should have turned those doppels in already. I don’t even know what I’m doing right now.”

”Suspending disbelief. Extending trust. I know it’s difficult. It goes against your instincts. Mine. But we have to do this. We have to work together.”

You breathe deeply, exhaling a long, shuddering sigh before nodding in silent agreement.

It was going to be a long night.

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

Okay so assuming there is absolutely nothing going on come Halloween night, no ancient threats or out of nowhere invasions or anything, which of the HoM would be up for trick-or-trwating, from most to least hyped?

These 6 would be especially excited for trick-or-treat out of the lot!

Their trick-or-treating would probably consist of them crashing people's homes (enemies and friends alike) to play some harmless (or not) pranks in the spirit of Halloween.

Randy just in general enjoys Halloween and dressing up. Danny is more excited to have Halloween fun with people not from Amity Park (or more like fun to mess with people who are actually afraid/get scared of ghosts unlike most of Amity citizens). Ben and Jun just likes any excuse to mess with people. While Zak and Rex are all up to have some relatively 'normal' fun with a group of friends (something they didnt have many opportunities for when they were younger).

The other three wouldn't mind joining them, but they would be more excited about hosting a big Halloween Party!

Kim, Jake and Jenny always sought out more social forms of holiday celebration, and they really would enjoy hosting a big party, open to all of their friends, be they magical, alien or human. Rex would also be incredibly excited (if not to actually host but to participate in it) because it is another 'normal' experience he never had a chance to get before.

Also can you imagine how rad the party would be???

There is also another thing two of them would be very excited about...

Haunted House/Maze.

Danny and Ben would get into a contest of who could make a better Haunted House/Maze for the party (with some assistance from Randy and Rex).

As I said before, Danny, with all his ghostly powers and expertese would be excited to make a Haunted House for people outside of Amity Park. While Ben would probably rise the challenge to Danny's efforts, saying that he could make a scarier maze.

And the truth is, despite all the ghostly things Danny can do, Ben would make a very decent opposition (and for why, you really need to only refer to Ben 10:AF episode Above and Beyond, that kid can be very sinister lol).

So the party would end up with two haunted mazes, one themed around ghost /spirits /magic, and the other themed around horror movies/sci-fi/aliens, which would fit really well, considering the diversity of their friends. ;D

also i dressed them up like that because

Danny as Phantom, dressed as Fright Knight because i just keep thinking about the dude. Danny as Fenton, a low effort t-shirt because he would be spending more time as Phantom.

Randy as Sorcerer, because despite defeating him, Randy can admit that he was pretty freaking spooky.

Zak as Francis (agent clone boy), because they planned to crash their agency HQ and Zak knew it would annoy Francis.

Jun as Loki of Marvel Variety, because she knows it would annoy Taylor (their universe Loki's demigod son) and it just amuses her in general how popular and different a Marvel Loki is, compared to that Loki she knows and is imprisoned.

Kim as Warmonga, mostly because i wanted to dress her as one of her enemies, but didn't want to go easy way of dressing her up as Shego or Dr. Krakken.

Jenny as Vexus, because Vexus design slaps and i wanted to.

Ben, Rex and Jake went the low-effort easy route (because they are like that), with Jake just freely walking around as Dragon (and people complimenting him on his scaly suit lol), and Ben and Rex transforming freely and whenever the want.

[endofthelinepal107]

henry winter - praise fucking dionysus

{a secret relationship can only stay so secret when everybody's immersed in a bacchanal. dionysus is the god of debauchery, not secrets.} 11k words

notes: kinda OC henry, henry's a virgin, the twins are NORMAL, no bunny, ngl the original draft of this is even more depraved than this one but i edited it down to make it slightly less alarming (what can i say i'm down bad for henry)

warnings: explicit(!!!) sex scenes, cursing, kinda dom/sub dynamic, mention of ritual sacrifice

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

You arrived home late. There were plenty of excuses you could give. Julian had given you too much work. The book Henry had recommended to you was a slog. It was too warm to take the car. Really, there was only one reason: you were avoiding your friends. Or, more specifically, you were avoiding Henry.

It wasn't his fault.

Over the past few months, you had started to see your friend in another light. It had taken you a while to realise what the feeling was. You weren't always very perceptive about yourself. But, luckily, you had Francis and Richard, who very quickly pulled you aside and demanded to know why you were suddenly head over heels for Henry Marchbanks Winter.

Richard was the least surprised out of the three of you. He'd become friends with you and Henry at the same time, and therefore seen the two of you together in a different light to everyone else. Your other friends wouldn't have noticed how similar you and Henry were, after knowing you both so long. They wouldn't have seen the way that Henry's eyes changed when he looked at you, or how your eyes flitted to meet his when the two of you were in the same room.

It seemed sensible, distancing yourself from Henry for a bit. Maybe if you could spend less time with him, you'd be able to let your feelings fade away. Hopefully, he'd be out of sight, out of mind. So that was the plan you'd gone with. For two weeks, you'd barely seen Henry outside of Greek. If he noticed, he didn't make it obvious.

That was when Francis decided to thwart your plans. He and Richard wanted to see the two of you together. So they organised a spontaneous holiday to Francis' house in the country. The two of you would be forced into the same house for weeks. How could you possibly avoid him?

That was why you were late getting home. Because you knew that they were all waiting in your living room, chatting about the plans for the holiday. Henry's car would be parked in the driveway, behind yours. His keys would probably be in his hand, resting on the table. Everybody would still be in their coats, ready to go.

You slowly pushed open the front door.

"There she is!"

"Finally!"

You smiled tiredly, shuffling into the room. The scene was laid out just as you'd imagined it. The only deviation from your prediction was that Henry was sitting in your chair. Your eyes landed on him, resting on the comfortable seat and then his body in it. His gaze flicked to you, stayed for a moment, then settled on the glass of whisky he was nursing.

Why was he in your seat?

"Everybody okay?" You asked, walking in. There was a brief moment where you hesitated, unsure of what to do with yourself now that your designated seat was taken. Everybody noticed you fumble, glancing helplessly at Henry in your chair. Your eyes didn't meet his, but you knew he was watching you. All you could wonder was why he was doing this. He knew just as well as anyone that the chair was where you sat, every day, every night.

Francis came to your rescue. "Take no notice of him, Y/N," he said lowly, voice smooth. "Got a perfectly good seat for you right," he paused, resting his hand on your wrist and giving you a moment to move away. When you didn't, he pulled you onto his lap. "Here," he finished. His slender arms wound around your waist, head resting on your shoulder. Henry watched in silence from your chair. He and Francis exchanged looks. One was filled with smug satisfaction. The other was perfectly unreadable. Both raised the tension in the room.

"Well, I'm good, thank you," Camilla said loudly, effectively breaking the tension. Most of you looked at her with gratitude. "I can't believe Julian agreed not to give us homework over the vacation."

Charles chuckled. "Well, the request did come from his favourite student."

"He wants us to have a break," Henry shrugged. "We should just be grateful."

Richard nodded. "I'm sure he'll make up for it when we get back anyway. Let's just enjoy it while we can."

"Papen's right," Francis piped up. "We should enjoy it! So let's go enjoy it! Right, Y/N?" He had jumped to his feet by now, clutching your hands in his and pulling you close. When he saw a smile start to creep onto your face, he continued dramatically. "Let's run away to the country! We'll dine on wine and bread! We'll wander the hills under the morning sun! We'll cherish each day and go to sleep with a smile!"

An incredulous snort of laughter left your nostrils as you gripped Francis' hands. "How many drinks have you had, Francis?"

"One," he replied.

Camilla pointed at the stack of margarita glasses on the coffee table. "Five," she corrected dryly. "But I agree with the drunk. We should go now. That way we can spend as much time there as possible."

"Alright. Who's driving?" Charles asked. He stood up, throwing an arm around his sister's shoulders. You suspected it was more for balance than anything else.

Richard stood too. "Who isn't drunk?"

"I'm not."

"I'm not."

Henry's eyes met yours for a moment before you looked away.

"Great," Francis smiled. "Y/N can drive. Henry's driving makes me feel seasick." He walked out of the house. Camilla and Charles followed. Henry stood by the window, sipping his drink while you and Richard cleared up the glasses your friends had left.

Richard’s eyes were on Henry as he spoke to you. "Francis has a plan, you know."

"I guessed so," you nodded. "Are you at liberty to tell me what it is?"

Richard looked towards you. Simultaneously, you saw Henry turn to look at him. "Actually, I sort of want to see if it'll work."

"Fair enough," you shrugged, nudging him with your elbow as you walked past to put the dishes by the sink. "It's not going to, but if it was you or Francis involved, I'd probably do the same."

Henry looked between the two of you blankly. He had no idea what you were talking about. Richard smiled. "I think we all would. We all want to see each other happy, right?"

"I don't think this is the way it's going to happen, though," you reasoned, walking back over. Before he could say anything, you nodded towards the door. "Okay, you go first, I need to lock up." You turned your head towards Henry but didn't quite meet his eyes. "You too, Henry."

Richard hummed, disappearing out of the door. Henry lingered. You went upstairs to grab your luggage. When you came back down, he was setting his glass down by the sink. "I shouldn't have taken your seat," he said suddenly, his low voice loud in the silent house.

"No," you agreed. You were a little too tired to try and please him. "Can I get past you? I need some coffee if I'm going to be driving."

Henry didn't move. "Are you tired?"

"Yeah," you nodded. You were in front of him now. "So...can you move, please?"

He looked at you, dark blue eyes staring you down. You had to look away. "I don't think you should drive. You should sleep."

"I can't sleep in moving vehicles. Thanks, though," you shrugged.

Henry shook his head. "Then you can rest. I'll drive."

"Francis said-"

You caught the end of something flashing across his face. Anger, or jealousy, maybe. "I don't care what Francis said. I'll drive." He walked back over to the table, seizing his keys from the table and marching out of the front door. You followed a few steps behind, watching awkwardly as he ordered everyone out of your car and into his. Francis opened his mouth to protest and was silenced with a surprisingly harsh glare.

"What happened?" Richard whispered in your ear, standing beside you as he waited for everyone to sort themselves out.

You shrugged. "Nothing. I don't know what's wrong with him."

"Did you tell him that Francis didn't want him to drive?"

You laughed. "I did. You can try telling him again, if you like. There's a chance you'll end up under the car instead of in it."

"I’ll give it a shot," he decided. "You know how annoying Francis gets when he's feeling sick."

You hummed. "Say it loud, so the others are listening in. Maybe it’ll make him listen." He nodded.

"Henry," he called. The tall man turned around, looking at Richard with a blank expression. "I'll drive. Francis gets sick when you drive." Before Henry could protest, an idea occurred to Richard. "Also, there's not enough seats for all of us."

Henry frowned. "Another one of us driving won't change that."

"Oh," Francis murmured from the passenger seat, smiling over at Richard in understanding. "Henry, there's not enough seats. I'm in the passenger seat. Richard'll be in the driver's seat. Camilla and Charles are in the back. There's only one seat left. You and Y/N still have to get in."

The realisation of what they were saying dawned on Henry before it could dawn on you. Richard saw this and nodded towards you. Francis continued for your benefit as Henry tried to make a decision.

"If you drive, Richard and Y/N'll have to squeeze into that one seat together. There isn’t enough space for them to sit next to each other. Richard would have to sit her on his lap." Francis spoke with a particular relish, knowing just what to say to sway Henry's decision. "If that's okay with you, then sure, drive. But if it's not.."

You finally understood what Richard and Francis were telling Henry. The last bit had been mainly for your benefit, but it still served to push Henry into making a choice. He took a step away from the car, nodding towards Richard.

"Fine." Your eyes widened in surprise. Wait, what? Before you could protest, Henry was sliding into the backseat and looking up at you. His face was shaded in the darkness of the evening. "We should leave now," he said simply. The hidden words rang out clearly in the silence: come and sit on my lap, before this gets worse.

You didn't say anything. There was a long pause as you stared at him. Then, still wordlessly, you ducked into the car. Henry's hands rested on your waist, guiding you to his lap. As soon as your back was resting against the place where the door met the car, his hands fell to his sides. There wasn't much space on his left because of Camilla, so his hand ended up wedged beneath his thigh.

Richard started the car.

--

Richard and Francis' plan had been a clever one. But it had one major oversight: they hadn't considered how awkward you and Henry were. They'd had a certain image in mind when they began. Something romantic, like the two of you holding hands or you leaning your head back against his chest and kissing his jaw. Instead, they got two of the stiffest people ever known to man. Henry was sitting so straight that he looked like he was experiencing rigor mortis. You were so still you looked like you were carved from stone. Both of your eyes were wide and panicked.

But, slowly, the two of you relaxed. There was only so long that muscles could stay so tense and eventually you had no choice but to loosen up. Henry melted into the chair beneath you. The curve of your back slotted into his front. Your head rested against the window. Your eyes met in the glass. Francis noticed the change and switched the radio on, giving the two of you the illusion of privacy.

Henry hummed, getting your attention. Everybody tried really hard to look like they weren't listening. "I apologise if I'm making you uncomfortable," he murmured.

"You're not," you whispered back. You turned your head to look at him. Both of your breath hitched; he was far closer than you had realised. His dark eyes bored into yours as you pressed the back of your head against the window, trying to maximise the few inches of space between his face and yours. "You make a comfortable seat," you joked, trying to alleviate the tension. Charles bit back a chuckle at the look on your face as you realised how inappropriate your remark had sounded.

Henry, with all his bookishness, wasn't well-versed in innuendoes. He didn't pick up on the crudeness of your joke. At least, not before he returned the sentiment. "I'm sure you're a wonderful place to sit too." When you looked completely uncertain, he realised how he sounded. There was a pause as the two of you blinked at each other. Then the corner of your mouth twitched. As the two of you laughed quietly in your little corner of the car, you quickly forgot about the others.

"But, seriously, Henry, you're not making me feel uncomfortable," you promised once you were calmer. He nodded. You could still see a flicker of disbelief hiding behind his eyes. Up this close, it was easier to see through the mask of indifference Henry put up. It still wasn't easy, but he was definitely more readable up close. You could see how unsure he was of where to put his hands and how to look at you when you were so near to him. You could see the fatigued twitch of his right eye and pick out each eyelash.

Your inspecting gaze didn't bother Henry too much. It gave him the opportunity to take a good look at you too. He appreciated every inch of skin, every flutter of your eyelids, every line on your lips. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," you nodded, looking up to his eyes. "You can ask me anything."

Henry felt a little warmed by your simple, genuine words. "Have you been avoiding me?"

He watched indecision flicker over your face. You considered lying to him, preserving his feelings. Then you considered telling him the truth, which you knew he'd like more. "Yeah."

"Will you tell me why?"

"I don't think so."

"Okay," Henry nodded. His eyes drifted to the hedge that was flashing by outside the window as he processed your words. "Will you stop?" You faltered. Henry filled the pause. "I want you to stop."

His words, spoken so matter-of-factly, took you by surprise. You couldn't help but nod. "Fine. I'll stop avoiding you." How could you refuse him? You'd never known Henry to be so upfront about something like that, something emotional.

"Thank you," Henry murmured. You hummed in response. The two of you turned your attention to the window, silently watching the scenery flashing by. Slowly, Henry moved his hands to hover over your lap. "Can I touch you?"

You were careful not to show how much his words affected you. "Sure." His hands rested in your lap. One of his arms shifted to wrap around your middle, fingers grasping the material at your side. Wordlessly, you dropped your hands down to rest with his. Henry turned his hand over, palm-side up. You slipped your hand into it. His fingers closed around yours.

--

By the time you reached the country house, it was early morning. The sky was still dark but the black was starting to melt away, slowly but surely. It took a while to get everyone's stuff in the house. Everyone opted to dump it and sort it out after some rest. You all traipsed upstairs to sort out sleeping arrangements. Francis and Richard's plan began to swing into motion again.

"So, there's six of us and five bedrooms," Charles pointed out superfluously. "Who's sharing?"

Francis chuckled. "I think the better question would be who's not sharing. Me, for one."

"Me," Richard agreed.

"Me," Camilla chimed in.

"Me," Charles nodded.

You blinked, a little too tired to catch on. Henry looked at you, then at the looks on Richard and Francis' faces. He sighed, unamused. "Oh, I see what you're trying to do."

"What? What are they trying to do?" You asked him.

He looked at you again. You could see dark circles beneath his eyes. You couldn't remember if they'd been there forever or just that night. "They're trying to get us to share a room."

"Oh," you nodded. "I don't mean to make things difficult, but I'm too tired to argue. I'm going to sit outside for a little bit." You disappeared down the stairs. They heard the front door open and shut.

Henry turned to glare at the others. Charles raised his hands in surrender. "What? She wasn't upset."

"You shouldn't try to make her uncomfortable," Henry insisted.

Camilla shook her head. "Actually, I think it's a good idea that you and Y/N sleep in the same room. I think she'd be most comfortable with you, out of all of us."

"And we all know you would be plenty comfortable with her," Francis pointed out.

Henry chose to ignore his comment. "Are you sure?" He addressed Camilla. When she nodded, Henry took a step towards the stairs. "Fine." He started to walk down.

Charles couldn't resist calling after him. "We better not wake up and find the two of you fucking on the front porch!"

"Why am I friends with these people?" Henry muttered to himself, opening the front door and slipping out.

You looked up at him from where you sat, perched on the swinging chair. "That bad?"

"Charles said.." Henry trailed off, deciding not to tell you what he had actually said. "He was just being an idiot."

You smiled. "Nothing new there, then." Your eyes flicked up and down his form. "You can come sit down, if you like."

Henry nodded, crossing the deck in a few strides. He sat down beside you. The swinging chair was too big for one person, but it was a little small for two. It was still comfortable. You were grateful to have a little warmth from his body pressed against yours. Henry had expected to feel uneasy being so close to you. However, he found that after sitting in the car with you for so long, he savoured the intimacy.

"Every time we come here," you said, voice clear in the crisp morning air. "I see you come out and sit here. I always thought that you looked peaceful out here. I thought I'd try it."

Henry glanced at you, smiling ever so slightly. "I have trouble sleeping. I wake up early. And when we're in a place like this, I feel like I should take it in. And you're right, it is relaxing."

"Blest who can unconcernedly find hours, days and years slide soft away in health of body, peace of mind. Quiet by day, sound sleep by night; study and easy together mixt, sweet recreation," you recited softly to yourself. You hadn't meant it for Henry's benefit, it had just popped into your head. You'd read it a few days earlier and the conversation made the poem spring to mind.

He looked at you. "Who is that?"

"Alexander Pope," you replied.

Henry hesitated before shaking his head. "I don't know him."

"Well, he's not Homer," you joked.

He smiled slightly sheepishly. "I read other things too."

"Like the Lexicon?" You continued to tease, liking the pink you could see tinting his ears. Henry smiled a little brighter, looking straight ahead. You hoped that this mini-holiday would be full of moments where you got to see him like that. "You know, when I found out about your obsession with Homer, it made perfect sense."

Henry was gazing up at the sky, admiring the soft pinks and oranges as the sun rose. "Mm?"

"It fits you," you nodded. "There were always a few quotes that reminded me of you. Like..." You wracked your brain. "Beauty, terrible beauty. That's just like that time you said beauty was terror."

He looked over at you. "Did I say that?"

"Yeah," you hummed. "To Julian. You really struck a chord in Richard, I think."

Henry nodded, pride swelling in his chest. Not only had he inspired a friend, but his words had stayed ingrained in your head for months. He decided to return your wordy affections in kind. "The Iliad. There's a line: Any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again. Every time I read that, I think of you. Your nihilism, your philosophical pessimism. And your beauty."

"Fucking hell, Henry," you protested with a bashful laugh. "I recited a poem about grass."

He blinked in surprise, not expecting that reaction. When he saw on your face that it was more genuine than anything else he could have gotten, he smiled. He liked that you were being more open with him. He'd seen you like that with Richard and Henry, even Charles and Camilla sometimes. But you and Henry had never really been as vulnerable with each other as you were in that moment.

"You can try again, if you'd like," he offered.

You looked at him, nodding and thinking. "Okay. Give me a moment." You thought. "Okay. Some Shakespeare for you, since I can't remember any more Homer." Henry nodded, turning to face you expectantly. You cleared your throat dramatically, winking at him in your awkwardness. A smile settled on his lips. "Shy love, I think of you as the morning air brushes the window pane. And how much time of all it takes to know the movement of your arm, the steps you take, the curves along your head, your ears, your hair. For all of this, each hand, each finger, each lip, each breath, each sigh, each word and sound of voice or tongue, I would require an age to contemplate. But for your heart: your mind, your thoughts. All these, to love them all, I need at least five centuries."

It was only once you were finished that you realised you had repeatedly said 'love' throughout your recital of the sonnet. You had just thought of the words you could think of that best described how you felt about Henry. You hadn't stopped to consider how strong those feelings were, especially when translated into poetry.

Henry was almost as surprised as you. It completely shocked him that someone could feel that way about him, even if you didn't feel as strongly as the poetry made it sound. But he found it very predictable that you would accidentally reveal the secrets of your heart by reciting a bit of poetry. He hadn't made quite the same fumble, always expert in his choice of quotation. But then he'd explained himself and had thoughtlessly called you beautiful.

"Get a room!"

The two of you peered upwards. All four of your friends were hanging out of the window above you. Francis, Richard and Camilla were trying desperately not to laugh. Charles looked a little drunk and was grinning down at the two of you.

"Honestly, your lovesick poetry's making me feel ill!"

You rolled your eyes. "No, Charles, that's the alcohol poisoning." Everybody laughed, including Henry, who chuckled at your retort. He waved them off and they all disappeared back inside. "I think I'm going to go in now," you informed Henry, slowly standing up.

"Would you mind if I joined you?"

You shook your head, holding a hand out to him. "Not at all." Henry accepted, grasping your hand firmly in his as he stood up. The two of you walked inside, hands naturally falling away from each other’s. When you figured out which bedroom had been left to the two of you, you let out a sigh of relief. Your friends had the decency to give you the master bedroom, with the largest double bed.

"I thought they'd give us the single," Henry admitted, peering out of the window before drawing the curtains.

You hummed in agreement as you sat on the edge of the bed to take off your shoes. "Same. I'm glad, though."

"Will it bother you to sleep with me?" He asked, sitting beside you. You looked at him, but he was bending over to unlace his shoes. "I can come up later to get some sleep."

You shook your head. "No, you don't need to do that. I'm fine with it. If you're not, I'll go down. We won't be on top of each other, anyway." 

Henry just shook his head. He stood up again to take off his blazer, folding it over the wardrobe door. You pulled your jumper over your head before lying down. Henry turned around, adjusting his suspenders before lying down beside you.

--

"I can't believe it worked that well," Richard whispered.

Camilla hummed. "They just needed a push. Someone to tell them it was okay."

"I feel like we should give them the room," Charles chuckled.

You kept your eyes closed as you listened to your friends talking. You guessed they'd come to check on you and Henry and found you in your current position. You didn't blame them for gawking. The two of you had migrated to the middle of the bed. Henry was spooning you, his front pressed to your back. His long legs were tucked under yours, pushing you closer to him. His arms were wrapped around your body. Your hands were gripping onto his forearms.

"What are you doing?" Henry asked suddenly. His voice was deep and low, nowhere near its usual volume.

Richard let out a gasp of surprise while Francis answered. "Looking at a changed man, it looks like."

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He pointed out.

Charles shook his head. "Don't pretend you haven't been pining over her for months, Henry. Dishonesty doesn't suit you."

The room was silent for a few seconds. Then Henry spoke. "Don't wake her up."

"Why?" Francis asked smugly.

Henry sighed. "Because she's exhausted. Just like everyone else. I'm just trying to keep my friend healthy."

"Uh huh," the red-head chuckled. "You're not convincing anyone, Henry."

You could feel Henry's muscles tensing behind you as he tried to keep his composure. He just wanted to shout at them all to leave the two of you alone. He wanted to be able to relish in your closeness for a while longer. They were ruining it.

"Let's go," Camilla interjected. Everyone shuffled out, Charles and Francis complaining the whole way down the stairs.

You waited a minute before humming. "Hey."

"Did they wake you up?" Henry asked, voice already a little angry.

You shook your head. "I woke up just before they came in. I didn't want to make things worse by speaking up." 

He nodded. It occurred to him that you were both awake, yet you were still pressed against him. "Would you like me to move?"

"No." The response was too quick, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Especially not when Henry's arms tensed a little, pulling you even closer. "When did this happen?" You asked, referring to your position.

Henry hummed. "I don't know. In our sleep, I think."

"It's nice," you admitted.

He smiled at the back of your head. "It is. I like being close to you." He regretted the overly-honest words immediately after he'd said them.

Before he could take them back, you answered him with a smile. "I like being close to you. Can we stay like this for a while longer? Or do you want to go down?"

"I want to stay here," Henry replied.

The two of you laid in comfortable silence for a while. You cleared your throat. "Do you mind if I take off some clothes? I'm getting all twisted in the fabric."

"Take off whatever you like," he shook his head. "I might take something off in a while." 

You nodded, detaching yourself from him and standing up beside the bed. Henry watched you step out of your pants, letting them fall to the ground. You didn't notice his piercing gaze until you lifted your hands to unbutton your shirt, eyes falling to meet his at the same time. Henry winced internally when your fingers faltered. You looked at each other in silence. Then you just continued as if nothing had happened. Henry cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling instead of at your body. Still, the curves of your figure were ingrained on the backs of his eyelids every time he blinked.

By the time you laid back down on the bed, clad only in your underwear, Henry was decently flustered. You moved back into the same position. When Henry made no move to lie against you, you turned onto your other side to look at him.

"Henry?" You questioned. He hummed, not looking at you. Your eyes narrowed. "Everything okay?" He just nodded stiffly. Your eyes scanned his body for any indication as to what had suddenly changed. "Henry-oh."

His eyes widened and flicked to yours. Your eyes were fixed to the sizeable tent quickly forming in his pants. Henry's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. He blinked at you in complete horror. Your eyes flicked between his face and his crotch. You drew in a deep breath, reminding yourself not to freak out. Henry already looked like he was about to pass out.

"Okay," you began gently. "Do you want to go into the bathroom and take care of yourself? We have the en suite."

He was still staring at you. "Take care of myself?"

"Yeah," you nodded. His expression was blank. "You know, uh.." Hundreds of different phrases danced along your tongue. You couldn't decide which one was appropriate for someone like Henry. You settled on a completely blunt one, since he seemed so clueless as to what you were telling him. "Do you want to go fuck yourself in the bathroom?"

A rose flush spread across his cheeks, unlike anything you'd ever seen on Henry before. "I..." He gulped, looking away from you. "I can't. I can't do that."

"You can't.." You frowned at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Henry squeezed his eyes shut, looking far more vulnerable than you had ever seen the stoic before. "It disconcerts me. I can't do it. I've never been able to do it." He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "I know it's…strange. But I can't."

"It's not that strange," you assured him.

He shook his head. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not," you shook your head. You moved closer to him in your eagerness. "It happens to plenty of people. It's not that weird."

Henry nodded. "That's a small comfort, then." He looked even more troubled. You only realised why when you felt his arm twitch beneath your fingers. Looking down, you saw that you had grabbed onto his arm as you'd been speaking. You quickly withdrew your hand. Henry glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "What should I do?"

"I don't know," you shook your head. "If you can't… do that, I guess you just have to wait for it to go away on its own?"

He nodded slowly. "I can... I can do that."

"Okay," you nodded. "I'm going to lie down. I'll face away so you don't feel... observed." 

Henry just nodded again, watching as you turned back over. You stared at the sheet in front of you, imagining him lying beside you. Up until that moment, when you'd thought about Henry in sexual situations, he'd always been pretty vanilla. But with him lying behind you, willing away a boner you were almost certain had happened because he'd watched you undress, your views had changed. You were beginning to see Henry in a new light, only furthered by the information about his never masturbating. Your mind slipped into daydreams of teaching him a few things right there and then, suspenders and all.

Henry's low voice pulled you from your reverie. "It's not working."

"Why?"

He turned his head to look at you, taking in the soft slope of your waist and the roundness of your ass in the simple panties. "Because I keep looking at you. And you're all I see when I close my eyes."

"Oh," you murmured, pleasantly surprised by his admission. You weighed up your options. You took Henry's apparent inexperience and naivety into consideration. Then you hummed. "You can cuddle me still, if you'd like."

Henry blinked, pushing himself up onto one elbow. "Are you sure?" He really hadn't expected you to say that.

"I told you," you shrugged. "I like having your body against mine." Both of you were aware that neither of you had said those exact words. But it was still true. Henry turned onto his side, hesitantly shuffling closer. His chest brushed yours, but he angled his hips so that they didn't make contact with you. "Henry," you said, voice low. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest. "Come on. Do it properly." He moved quickly, arms sliding over and under your body. He pulled you against him. Your ass pushed against his hard-on. "Isn't this more comfortable?"

Henry swallowed. "Not the word I'd use."

"Which word would you use?"

He thought. "Arousing?"

"Why is this arousing?" You questioned. The lilt in your voice made it clear that you were fully aware of why being pressed against you with his cock already hard was arousing to Henry.

He found himself answering anyway. "You're touching me."

"Women touching you is arousing?"

Henry shook his head. "No. You touching me is arousing."

"Oh," you hummed, smiling slightly. "You can come closer, you know." Henry looked down at the minimal space between you. Then he realised what you were implying. He tightened his hold around your waist, bucking his hips up into yours. His cock nestled between your plush ass. Henry's breath stuttered slightly. You leaned your head back so that you could see him. He looked down at you. You flashed him a smile. "Are you a virgin, then?"

He blinked. "I... Yeah."

"Oh," you hummed, frowning to yourself.

Henry panicked a little, worried that whatever was happening was about to stop because of your new insight. "Why?"

"I just always assumed otherwise, I guess," you shrugged. "I figured you'd be the kind to have sensual weekend-relationships all the time. Probably with men, like the Greeks did."

He shook his head. "You thought wrong."

"Very wrong, it seems," you smiled again. Henry got the feeling that you were getting some amusement at his expense. He didn't care in the slightest. "Have you really never had anyone?"

Henry shook his head again. "I'm not exactly the romantic type."

"Aren't you?" You frowned. "I think you are. I mean, over the past few months, you've turned up at my house with flowers, you've taken me out to dinner and lunch, you've walked with me, you've studied with me. Henry, you could be very romantic if you wanted to be."

He blushed slightly. "I didn't realise I was doing all of those things romantically until recently."

"What?" You blinked.

Henry frowned. "Is that not what you were implying? That you knew I was trying to- well."

"I didn't realise that at all," you shook your head. "Is that what you were doing?" He nodded. "Oh. Well, thank you, then. Does that mean this," you gestured between the two of you. "Can continue?"

He nodded slowly. "I thought you would be put off by my inexperience."

"Actually, I think it's making me want you more," you mused. "My neck's hurting, sorry." You tilted your head back to its natural position. Henry hesitated before resting his head on your shoulder. You smiled. "Comfy?"

He hummed. "More than I was before."

"Does it hurt?" You asked.

Henry frowned. "What?"

"Your cock."

He choked on air, surprised by your bluntness. Henry was used to hearing you make crude comments and lewd jokes all the time, but they were never addressed to him. When he recovered, he answered you. "Yeah, it does. I'm used to it, though." You nodded. You'd forgotten that Henry must have had years of dealing with blue balls.

"You can use me a little, if you'd like," you suggested.

Henry processed your offer. "I don't know how to do that."

"Do you want to?" You asked. He nodded. "Okay. I'll guide you through it, okay?" He nodded again. "Have you got a good grip on me? You don't want me to move around the bed." Henry's arms tightened around you. "And now you just... move against me. Say when you need something more."

Henry moved slowly at first, trying to find a rhythm that felt good. His hips slid against your ass, cock dragging against your panties. He was still fully clothed so there was plenty of friction. It also meant that he had to press himself against you a lot harder to feel all of the sensations. Henry gripped you even tighter, using his grip on you as momentum to drag himself over you repeatedly. Wetness pooled in your panties as you felt him moving against you. His grip was tight, nearly bruising in his earnestness. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, eyes falling closed. You focused on the soft pants Henry was letting out. After a minute, he faltered.

"Can... Can I have more?" He asked in a hushed voice, as though he was asking something incredibly wrong.

You smiled to yourself at the timid question. "Of course you can." You decided to ease him into the more submissive role. "Say please."

"Please," he repeated without hesitation. He didn't seem to have really noticed your request.

You rolled over onto your front in his grip. "Move above me," you told him. He did as you asked, leaning all of his weight on his arms, pressing into the pillow either side of your head. You looked him over, smiling at the sweat starting to seep through his shirt and the heavy rising and falling of his chest. You lifted your right thigh. "Put your legs on either side." Henry followed your instructions. You dropped your leg. "Hump, Henry," you murmured.

His blue eyes were blackened with lust as he blinked up at you. He looked genuinely surprised by your words. But his legs still dropped down onto the mattress. He rocked his hips against your leg.

"No," you said firmly. He stopped immediately, looking at you again. "I didn't say grind. I said hump." Henry swallowed, nodding slowly.

He looked over your body. "Can I touch you?"

"Mhm."

His hands found your waist, flexing around your hips. When he was satisfied, he dragged his crotch up your leg, then back down again. His lips parted in pleasure. "Oh."

"Good?" You hummed. He nodded. You cleared your throat. "Henry."

He started to move faster. "Y-Yeah, it feels good."

"What feels good about it?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he shifted slightly to the left. The tension disappeared from his face when he found the angle he was looking for. "Your leg. It feels good against my.." He trailed off, unsure of which word to use. It wasn't like Henry to swear, or to talk dirty. You wanted to urge him to do it, to try and flick a switch inside of him. But then you also liked the idea of him shying away from it still.

"Say it," you whispered.

Henry let out a gasp, jaw going slack. His movements were starting to falter. "You feel good against my c-cock."

"Good boy," you praised, feeling a jolt of satisfaction when his cheeks flamed red and his eyes sparkled. "Get off, before you cum."

He sat back on his knees, looking at you in confusion. "Did I do something wrong?" The lost puppy look was surprisingly fitting on his face, a nice contrast to the hubris he usually exuded.

"No," you smiled. "I just want to draw it out. I don't want this to end so soon. Is that okay?" Henry nodded quickly, still amazed this was something you were offering him. "Are you going to keep doing what I tell you, then?"

Henry nodded again. "Anything." From the way he was looking at you, like you were Helen of Troy herself, you knew he was telling the truth.

"Stand up, then," you told him. He did as you asked. You moved to your feet too, padding around the bed to stand in front of him. Henry towered above you, but his head hung to look at you and his eyes showed only awe. It felt like you were bigger than him, not the other way around. "Look at you," you murmured. "Can see the precum on your trousers."

Henry looked down in confusion, shocked to see that there really was a wet patch spreading on the grey fabric of his pants. "I only brought one pair."

"Really?" You smiled, looking back up at him. "We better get you out of them before you make more of a mess, hm?" Henry nodded. Your hands fell to his crotch, ghosting over his hard length. You paused to rid him of his shirt, folding it roughly and throwing it on the bed. You smiled at him warmly. "Have you kissed before?"

Henry shook his head. "No."

"What do you think about it?" Your fingers worked at the button on his trousers as you spoke. You could feel him pulsing beneath your fingertips.

He watched you with bated breath. "I don't think I want someone's tongue in my mouth."

"Do you want someone's tongue anywhere?" You asked.

He nodded. "Anywhere else. E-Everywhere else. And teeth, too." You hummed with interest, storing away everything he was telling you. You pulled his trousers down his legs, falling into a squat as you pulled them from his feet. You couldn't help eyeing his cock as it sprang up in your face. He looked big.

You rose to your feet, looking at him again. One of your hands splayed across the back of his neck. You pulled him down a few inches to meet you, nudging his nose with yours. Henry's eyes fluttered shut. You closed yours too, closing the small space between you. His lips weren't too warm, a little chapped from his heavy breathing earlier. He was a sweet kisser, as you'd expected. Your lips parted and you smiled at him gently. The two of you kissed slowly, like you had all the time in the world. His mouth was a little clumsy against yours and it took your lead for him to lose that characteristic stiffness.

"Pick up your trousers." It took Henry a minute to register your request. When he did, he quickly turned around to find them, picking them up and looking at you again. "Fold them and put them by the basket, I know you want to." He smiled slightly, nodding his head and doing as you'd said. He had been wanting to sort them since they fell to the ground around his ankles.

He turned to you when he was done. "What now?"

"We're going to make Henry Winter cum," you smiled, stepping closer to him. Your chest pressed against his. Henry glanced down at your breasts, then back to your face.

He looked incredibly nervous as he asked, "Can I touch you there?"

"Not now," you shook your head. "Next time, if you want a next time."

Henry nodded rapidly. "I do."

"Next time, then." Your hands slid down over his surprisingly toned torso to his briefs. Your eyes bored into his as you slid a hand over his cock. Henry's breath hitched in his throat as you took a firm hold of him. This felt completely different to all of the times he'd tried to relieve himself, before he'd given up on sexual pleasure completely. You started to palm his erection, still staring at him, watching his reactions carefully.

When you heard the beginnings of a proper moan rumble at the back of his throat, you took your hand away. Roughly shoving his underwear down to his knees, you pressed your hands into Henry's chest and pushed him backwards. He stumbled until his back made contact with the wall. You tilted your head to press a searing kiss to his lips.

"Wrap your hand around mine," you told him, pressing your chest against his firmly. "And look at me." He did both things, looking down at you as his chest heaved. His hand fixed to the back of yours.

You slid your hand down his body again, this time without underwear obstructing your access to his cock. Your fingers brushed over him with a featherlight touch before you took him into your fist. Henry's hand squeezed yours painfully hard and didn't relent. You didn't mind. You started to pump your hand around him, adjusting your ministrations when he had a slightly different reaction. He started to let out soft sounds, more audible than his pants.

"Sweetheart," you whispered. "I want to hear you."

He swallowed what sounded almost like a whine. "O-Okay. Please.." Henry trailed off.

"What?" You asked.

He let out a moan, hips bucking into your hand. Your free hand pushed his hip back against the wall. "Sweetheart. Will you call me that again? Or something like that. Please."

"Yeah," you nodded. "Don't move unless I tell you it's fine, okay, baby?"

Henry let out a breathy moan. "Y-Yeah." His mouth hung ajar as he looked down at you. He caught his breath enough to let you know where he was. "I'm going to-to-"

"Say my name," you murmured. "Say my name when you cum, honey."

His head lolled forwards, forehead pressing against yours. You opened your mouth slightly, inhaling every one of his breathy moans. "O-Oh.." He looked completely debauched, barely able to keep his eyes open as you gave him his first orgasm. Henry let out a cry, muscles tensing and his whole body shuddering. "Y-Y/N!"

"There it is," you hummed. "Good boy, Henry. Let go." His cum spurted across your hand in hot ropes. His body continued to shudder against yours as you supported his weight. He was as heavy as you had guessed he would be and it was quite an effort to hold him steady until he came to his senses. When he did, he swallowed, tongue darting out across his lips. His dark eyes fluttered open and he gazed at you for a moment, looking stunned. Your eyes flicked between his. A small smile crept over his hard line of a mouth and he opened his mouth to say something. Then he stopped, face falling.

"Henry?" You frowned.

He staggered forwards, catching you off guard. You barely had time to catch him. "I've got a headache," he muttered, clutching onto you for balance. His eyes squeezed shut.

"Is it my fault?" You worried, helping him to the bed. His briefs were still around his ankles, so you leaned down and pulled them all the way off.

Henry shook his head. "No, I could feel it coming on anyway."

"What can I do?" You asked.

He gestured weakly towards the window. "Pull the curtains all the way, please. I think I'll just sleep a bit more."

"Okay," you nodded, doing as he asked. When you turned back around, he was laying in bed. You pulled the duvet above his waist, giving him some semblance of dignity in case someone walked in. "Do you have medication?"

He nodded. "In my suitcase." That was downstairs still. You moved around, getting dressed as quietly as you could. After a quick trip to the bathroom to make sure that you didn't look like you'd been doing anything sexual, you grabbed Henry's stained pants and wandered downstairs.

You'd hoped to be able to do what you needed to without being noticed, but Richard and Francis were sitting in the kitchen. They looked up as you walked into the room. Both grinned, but Francis was the one that spoke. "How's Henry? Bedridden from pleasure?"

"Bedridden," you nodded. "He's got one of his headaches."

Richard winced, remembering the one time he'd walked into Henry in the middle of one of his headaches. "I hope he's alright."

"Me too," you agreed. You picked up his suitcase, putting it down on the counter. As you opened it, you put the trousers down beside it. You found the medication. While you were pouring out a glass of water, Francis leaned forwards and inspected the trousers. He spluttered when he found the stain in the crotch, genuinely struggling to wrap his head around what he was seeing. You turned, sighing and snatching it from his hands.

Francis stared at you in disbelief. "What are you doing, washing Henry's trousers?"

"He only brought one pair," you replied, taking them over to the sink and rubbing away the stain. "Honestly, Francis, you're very childish sometimes."

Richard smiled. "Did you two..?"

"We're talking about Henry, Richard," you pointed out, hoping that you could get out of the situation without lying.

You were halfway up the stairs when Francis called after you, "You totally did!" You smiled, shaking your head as you slipped back into the bedroom.

"Henry?" You asked. He grunted, lifting a hand in acknowledgement. You hung the trousers over the radiator to dry out. Then you sat beside him on the bed. "Oh, love," you cooed, seeing the sweat beading on his brow. "You don't look too well."

He shook his head. "It's not as bad as usual."

"I got you your medicine," you informed him. 

Henry tried to lift his head, wincing in pain. You shuffled closer, on your knees. You rested a hand behind his head. Henry didn't speak as he opened his mouth. You gave him the pill, then helped him sip the water. He leaned back down, catching your hand in his. You brought your other hand up to brush over his forehead, absently smoothing away his forehead creases.

The two of you sat there for a while before Richard walked in. You looked up at him, mouth falling open in dismay. This felt somehow worse than if you'd been caught earlier. Henry, who you'd thought was asleep, spoke. "What, Papen?"

"Francis wants..." Richard looked between the two of you again before taking a step back. "I'll tell him that you're busy."

You smiled when you saw the genuine smile on his face. He was happy that the two of you were happy. "Thank you, Richard." You nudged Henry.

"Thank you," he muttered, sending you a weak smile when you glared at him playfully.

--

A few hours later, the others were getting restless. They'd planned a bacchanal for that evening. Francis and Camilla were making the robes, adjusting sheets to make an approximation of a toga. When you'd gone downstairs earlier to find something for you and Henry to eat, you'd found Charles and Richard wandering around in theirs already. Yours and Henry's were the only ones yet to be fitted. All of the supplies had been gathered. They didn't want to leave without you, and they needed Henry's knowledge. So they had been waiting.

Charles burst into the room. "I'm fed up with waiting," he declared.

Francis and the others came in shortly after. "I thought you had a headache?" He asked, seeing Henry sitting beside you. He had recovered impressively quickly. It really hadn't been as bad as usual. The position the others found you in was only really compromising for Henry. You were reading, sitting with your back against the headboard. Henry was lying perpendicular to you, his head in your lap. He wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. You'd heard footsteps approaching the door and quickly covered his bottom half with the sheets.

"He did," Richard supplied. "I came up earlier and he was genuinely sick."

Camilla stared. "Is Henry naked?"

"You two did-"

You cut Francis off. "Henry got too hot."

"Too hot for you to resist, sure," Charles hummed. You sent a glare his way.

Francis sighed. "Look, whatever. We'll delve into you and Henry and your promising sex life tomorrow. For now... the bacchanal. Camilla and I need to fit you into your robes."

"Alright." You stood up, gently patting Henry's forehead as you did so. You walked over to Francis and Camilla. She was unfolding a sheet.

Francis was a little happier now that you were standing in front of him, ready to be made into an Ancient Roman. "We're doing makeup in a minute, too."

"On everyone?" You asked.

Camilla nodded. "Yes. Just redder lipstick on you and me."

Francis' fingers started to deftly unbutton your shirt. Henry sat up quickly, eyes flicking between the two of you. The sudden movement caught all of your attention. Everybody blinked at him. Henry cleared his throat, clutching the sheets to his lower half and looking away. You smiled slightly to yourself.

Francis rolled his eyes. "I'm starting to regret pushing you two together."

"Nothing's happening," you sighed. 

You met Henry's eyes for a split-second before you looked away. Francis continued to undress you. You didn't bat an eye. It wasn't the first time you'd all attempted a bacchanal. Last time, Francis had been in a rush to get all of you in robes before the sun set, Camilla doing people's makeup at the same time. He'd stripped you down to your underwear then, too. Now, you supposed that making Henry jealous had played a role in that.

Henry cleared his throat again. "Francis." The red-head looked up, nodding slightly and walking over to Henry. He leaned down as Henry whispered something to him. Francis came back looking amused, yet bewildered.

"Yeah, you'd better undress yourself," he told you, cracking a grin. "I'd like to keep my hands."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at Henry. He just shrugged. You undressed quickly until you were standing in your underwear. Henry watched you from the bed with undivided attention. Everybody was too amazed by his obvious adoration of you to be annoyed with him. There wasn't any sexual tension in the room anyway, because you were focused on recovering the lost time in preparation for the bacchanal.

"Okay, I'm ready," you said, pushing the straps of your bra down. Camilla appeared in front of you, Francis behind as they wrapped the sheet into a robe like everyone else's.

Charles whistled. "Underwear! Gotta go all natural for the Ancients!" You laughed, slipping your hands under the robe and pulling your underwear off. Again, you didn't bat an eye. Henry gripped the sheets with white-knuckles.

"Let me do your makeup quickly," Camilla pulled you towards her. You stood still in front of her as she drew on your eyeliner and dark eyeshadow. Then, true to her word, she painted your lips with the brightest red you'd ever seen in lipstick.

Francis looked over at Henry. "Your turn, Winter."

"I'm not wearing any clothes," he deadpanned.

Richard snickered. Charles laughed. "I don't think you've worn an item of clothing since last night, Henry."

"Can I have the sheet?" You asked, taking it from Francis. You walked towards Henry. The others watched, biting back laughs as you replaced the sheet of the bed with the makeshift toga. You managed to pull it around his body like a cloak. "Stand up, love."

Charles jeered, "Love!"

Henry did as you asked without question. He pulled you back when he saw that you were going to lead him over to Francis to fix the robe. "If the bacchanal works, we'll lose all inhibitions." He spoke in a conspiratorial tone.

"Yeah," you nodded. "Isn't that the point?"

He shook his head. "I don't want to... do things with the others."

"Oh," you hummed in understanding. You thought. "I won't do it, then. I won't do the bacchanal."

Henry nodded. "Will you stop me from doing anything with the others?"

"If you consent to that now, completely sober and under no influence," you nodded. "Because it could get violent. It's a bacchanal after all, right?"

He nodded, taking a step closer to you. He seemed to have forgotten about your friends because he leaned closer. "Do whatever you need to do. I don't want to do anything with them."

"Should I stop you from doing things with me, too?" You questioned.

Henry shook his head. "I don't want you to. But if I make you uncomfortable, yes."

"Okay." You turned to your friends as Henry walked over to Francis and Camilla, getting his sheet fixed and his eyes painted. "I'm not going to take part in the bacchanal."

Charles hummed. "Why?"

"I think it's important that we have someone sober and sensible there, just in case. We haven't had a successful one of these yet, but if we do, crazy things can happen. I'll be able to prevent anything too serious. Also, I can tell you about what fools you've made of yourselves tomorrow." You added the last part with a smile, hoping that they'd forget about how Henry had whispered to you.

Richard looked at you. "It's not because Henry just asked you to?"

"No," you lied. "We've all read about the ritual madness. I just want it to be safe for everyone."

Charles hummed. "I think," he said dramatically. "I think that Henry asked you to make sure he didn't do anything with anybody else. But if you want us to think otherwise, because you somehow think we're all going to buy that you two aren't fucking, then sure. You're being safe." You were genuinely surprised by how well Charles guessed your conversation. Still, you shook your head and made sure to keep your expression impassive.

"Y/N," Camilla called. You looked over at her. "You do Henry's lips." You opened your mouth to protest, not wanting to support their beliefs. She shook her head. "It's not because of that. I need to get in the bathroom and do my own."

You nodded, taking the lighter lipstick from her. Henry stood in front of you, dark eyes boring into yours. "You suit the eyeshadow, Henry," you complimented him.

"When monarchs and nobles bled, guillotines and flags turned red, those revolutions were jealous of the red of her lips," Henry recited to you with a smile. You smiled back at him, pleased by the warmth you could see returning to his eyes after a day of sickness. Your hand cupped his jaw as you swiped the lipstick over his lips. You dropped the stick, using your thumb to smooth it organically. Henry pressed a light kiss to your fingertip as you pulled it away.

You turned to follow the others out of the room. Thankfully, they'd been talking and hadn't witnessed your moment together. The six of you made your way down to the kitchen. You were charged with carrying the wine while Henry brought the speaker. Your fingers traced over the ribbed glass bottles. Then you all journeyed out into the countryside.

They'd chosen a good night; the air was still warm, the ground dry. You walked for only half a minute before stopping. The group couldn't be too far from the house in case of an emergency. The speaker was set in the middle of a circle that the six of you formed. You handed around the wine, not taking a single sip yourself. Henry caught your eye from across the grass, nodding slightly. You knew what he was saying; remember what you promised me. You nodded back. I will. He tipped his head back and drank. You leaned forwards and pressed play on the speaker. The Dionysian ritual began.

--

It was madness. True, complete and utter madness. You were thankful that you'd chosen to not take part in the ritual. It had started slow at first, with your friends looking drowsy and absent. Then it escalated suddenly. Now, you were scanning the marshes for Henry's white robe. You caught sight of him, finally, and rushed over to him.

He was walking quickly, stumbling over tufts of grass and sticks. He didn't notice you at first. You followed his intent gaze, seeing that he was walking towards Camilla, who was lying beneath a tree.

"Oh, no, you don't," you mumbled, catching his wrist.

Henry whirled around on his heel, staring at you. It took a few seconds for recognition to set in. His reddened lips parted and a sweet, toothy smile pierced the dusk. He looked like a purer version of himself, freed of hauteur and ego. "Y/N," he whispered. "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," he chanted your name like a prayer, taking steps towards you.

"Hey, Henry," you smiled, catching his hands in yours. He was holding a half-full bottle of wine. "Feeling a little woozy?"

He was still smiling. "Lie down with me."

"What?"

He yanked his robe off, laying it on the grass. Henry fell to the ground, rolling onto his back and staring up at the night sky. You blinked before laying beside him. He looked at you. "I love you," he declared. Your mouth fell open.

Henry smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. He moved onto his front again, leaning on his elbows. Suddenly he was on top of you, looking down at you. He reached over and picked up the bottle of wine, taking a long swig. Then he was sliding down your body until his head was level with your crotch. He sent you another grin before disappearing underneath your sheet. You moved onto your elbows in surprise. This was the debauchery that you had all known bacchanals would bring, but seeing it in Henry was something entirely jarring.

His lips pressed against the insides of your thighs as he felt his way around. You knew he had no idea what he was doing, so you were surprised when he licked a wide stripe over your pussy. You gasped, falling back against the sheet beneath you. He gave an experimental prod of his tongue into your hole before changing his mind. His lips moved upwards, lapping at your juices.

You moved your hands to his hair, tugging the robe out of the way. Henry hummed when you tugged his head higher. His lips fastened onto your clit. You let out a cry when he gave a harsh suck.

"Fuck, Henry."

He took note, continuing to do what he was doing. Even without being able to see his face, it was obvious Henry was completely focussed on his task. He ate messily, sloppily. The abandonment of any of his rigid manners made it oh-so much better. Your body melted into the grass, eyes fluttering.

"Oh, christ," you whispered.

Henry’s head lifted to examine your expression. The bottom half of his face glistened in the moonlight. His eyes were darker than usual as he moved up your body, lips finding yours. Your eyes rolled at the sweet taste of yourself and wine on his lips. His hand snaked between your legs, fingers clumsily finding your clit and drawing firm patterns that you were sure he didn’t know felt so good. He pressed  kisses to your lips repeatedly. Your mouth fell open as you panted. He didn't stop kissing you, just moved his targets to around your mouth instead.

When you came, Henry lifted his hand to his lips and licked away every drop. Watching him treat your body like something to be venerated and treasured turned you on more.

"Henry," you whispered. He looked at you. "I want to have sex with you.”

He jumped to his feet, grabbing the wine in one hand and your wrist in the other. You clutched your sheet around your body as you ran with him through the grass. Henry stopped once you were close enough to the speaker to hear the music properly. Then he laid down in the grass, looking up at you with earnest expectedness. You wished that you were a painter, so that you could commit the masterpiece in front of you to an oil canvas and hang it proudly in a gallery.

"Ruin me," he whispered, looking up at you with wide eyes. Dionysus’ perfect old Roman.

You stared down at him in disbelief. Then you moved to straddle him. "Sit up, sweet boy." Henry did as you said. You took the wine from his hand, pressing the neck of the bottle to his lips. His eyes didn't leave yours as he chugged the alcohol. You pulled away a few seconds after it became too much. Wine trailed down his chin.

Henry watched you. "Cover me in it," he murmured, kissing your lips. You licked the wine away from his chin.

"I want you inside me first," you told him. Your hand found the base of his cock. Slowly, you slid him inside you. It took you a moment to accommodate his size. The whole time, Henry was sucking at your neck. Once you were used to the feeling of him inside you, you moved his head so that you were looking into his eyes. He looked back at you. You trailed kisses along his neck, leading upwards to his jaw. You kissed the junction of his jaw before sucking a mark there. Part of you felt like this was some messy, depraved dream, and you wanted to leave a mark to prove it was more than that. Henry's hands lifted to grab your hips. You took his jaw in your hand, pushing his head back. "Close your eyes, Henry," you told him.

Henry's eyes fluttered shut. You tipped the wine bottle, watching the stream of red disappear into Henry's hair before it flooded his face and shoulders. His jaw jutted outwards as he gasped. You watched hungrily until the bottle was empty. You pressed kisses to Henry's lips as you swiped the wine from his eyes with your thumbs. They opened and he grinned at you.

Finally, you started to move, rocking your hips against his. Henry laid flat on his back, pressing his feet to the ground so that he could buck his hips up into yours. He hadn't forgotten about your clit, which he had only just discovered the existence of. His thumb moved from your hip to your clit, rubbing circles there as the two of you gasped and groaned.

"Y/N," he moaned. "Please, don't stop." You watched him, feeling his strong body tense beneath your fingertips. He let out a cry that was loud enough for anybody out of the grass to hear. "Y/N!"

--

"So, where's loverboy?"

You looked over at Charles. All of your friends were sitting around the dining table, making their way through breakfasts that you'd prepared for them. They were all drowsy, but not too hungover. "Charles, don't make me take back your breakfast."

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "But, really, where is Henry?"

Francis hummed. "Speak of the devil. Morning, Henry."

"Morning," he replied. You had already turned around to plate up food for him, so you didn't see what all the others did.

Camilla gasped. "Henry, what's happened to you?"

"Are you hurt?" Richard frowned.

You turned around in confusion, eyes widening when you saw him. "Oh, Henry," you murmured, placing the plate down on the table. "Love, you look like Satan."

"I don't feel that hungover," Henry frowned. Charles laughed. You grabbed Henry's hand, pulling him to the bathroom in your room. He looked in the mirror. "Oh."

You chuckled. "Yeah." His hair was stained a reddish-brown from the wine the night before. To make matters worse, his face was still covered in trails of maroon.

"What is it?" Henry frowned.

You blinked. "You don't remember?"

"No," he shook his head. "Did you stop me?"

You nodded. "Yeah, but we did stuff. You asked me to do that." You gestured towards his face.

"To... cover me in blood?" Henry frowned. “Was it some kind of ritual sacrifice? A lamb, or something?” He didn’t look as concerned by the prospect as he probably should have.

You shook your head. "It's wine."

"Oh," he nodded. "Of course." He looked in the mirror for a few more seconds before he shook his head slightly. His eyes flicked between yours. "Will you help me wash it out?"

You smiled. "Sure. Strip off, get in the tub." Henry did as you asked, naked and in the bath within seconds. You switched on the shower, holding the showerhead in your hand as it warmed up. Henry watched you with his constant and once again unreadable gaze.

"What did we do? Last night?"

You shrugged, starting to massage his head. "We had sex. You gave me oral sex. I rode you and covered you in wine."

"I see," Henry mumbled to himself. "I wish I remembered."

You hummed. "I'm sure we can do all those things again when you're not completely out of your mind."

"When we go home, after this," Henry began. "Do you intend for us to just return to normality? Or can this- can we continue?"

You smiled. "I'd like it if we did. Especially if we spend our time doing what we've done this holiday."

"It is the Greek and Roman way," Henry pointed out, tilting his head back.

You pressed a kiss to his lips. "It is."

He hummed against your lips. "Praise Dionysus."

"Praise fucking Dionysus."

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

thanks to anon for asking me to edit and publish this one. i'm so sorry about how depraved it gets lol i swear i toned it down from what it was originally. there's a critical shortage of henry winter content on here though so as far as i'm concerned it's god's work.

F <3

[meowordeath]

A/N: This isn't proofread and bug autocorrected to big sometimes so hopefully there aren't too many mistakes !

My weird bug lover… | Francis Mosses x gn!reader 🤍

Content warning | talk of bugs, spiders, fluff

wc - 500+

Francis, he loves you with all his heart, truly he does! but he’d prefer you didn’t try to hand him every bug you came across outside, or try to bring them home. “Francis! Look, look, look!” You shout excitedly, running toward him with your hands cupped, obviously meaning you had something.

He sighs, walking toward you. You halt in front of him with a big smile. “Mmm what did you find this time, my love. Is it a caterpillar? or maybe a pretty looking beetle?” Even though he didn’t like bugs he always held his hand out for you to hand over whichever bug you’d found.

“No, it’s a Ladybird spider!” You say placing the bug in his hands with excitement. Francis froze as the spider started crawling up his hand. “Isn’t she just super pretty! Let’s take it home!” You look at your lover's face which is much paler than it usually is.

“Francis? You okay, you look sick” His hands are shaking slightly as he forces on a brave facade. “I… I think it’s best if we leave the spiders outside love…” He moves his hands slowly toward you gesturing for you to take the spider back. You pout taking the spider from his hands. “But, it kind of looks like a ladybug, what if we just pretend it’s not a spider!” You smile at him, which usually gets him to give in.

He shakes his head though. “I won’t change my mind this time, love. We already have a few too many bug enclosures in our small apartment, we don’t need more.” He is not letting a spider into his apartment. The few different species of beetles, snails, praying mantis were enough, plus you had ordered a scorpion through the mail, if he had to deal with a scorpion plus a spider in his small apartment he might pass away on the spot.

You let the spider crawl off your hand onto a bush giving it a small goodbye, before turning back to your lover. “Mmm, why can’t we just get a cat and dye it ladybug colors?” He said linking your hands. “No way, it’ll knock my enclosures on the ground, and you wouldn’t want a bunch of beetles roaming the apartment would you?” He felt a shiver go down his spine at the thought.

“You're right, let’s stick to just bugs for now.” He said squeezing your hand. You find his reaction a little amusing as you giggle. “Oh! that reminds me I saw an advertisement about this butterfly garden, we should go!” You give him that same smile you use to get something, and this time he gives in.

“Mmm, okay at least it’s butterflies. I can handle butterflies.” You cheer, before seeing a huge beetle climbing a tree out of the corner of your eye. You gasp. “Look! It’s a Hercules Beetle, we have to take him home at least!” You say happily pulling him toward the big bug.

Francis didn’t even bother giving the bug a glance, his eyes not moving your face. You always look so happy finding bugs, though he lost a little sanity everytime you handed them to him, the cheerful look you had always made it worth it.

Sorry it's a little short! Hope you liked it! :3

[vintagerpg]

Living Steel is another game, like Cyborg Commando, that looms large in my mind because of ads in Dragon Magazine. I also reflexively connect them both to Terminator for reasons I don’t quite understand. This is the 1988 hardcover; there was a 1987 box set as well.

So, this game is powered a simplified version of Leading Edge’s small arms combat system released the previous year called Phoenix Command (you saw that earlier this month, in fact!). That means it has really complex mechanics that, while they feel satisfyingly realistic, they also take oceans of table time to resolve a few seconds of action. I don’t really care about the system, though, I’m interested in the world — it’s really the only original setting created by Leading Edge and it is interesting!

So, interplanetary human empire. Oppressive, fascistic. It has silenced all dissent, but an outside invasion by aliens, the Spectrals, essentially shatters that control. That’s the backdrop. The game is set on Rhand, a tourism planet that has recently been attacked by the Spectrals. That attack involved the uses of a virus that changed the behavior of the inhabitants, but before they could complete their conquest, the alien ship crashed. Now they, and everyone else on the planet, is stranded and competing for resources. That’s a pretty interesting frame! The players take the roles of centuries old super soldiers who were awakened, King Arthur-like, from cryosleep. They must use their power armor — the titular living steel — to defeat the invaders and destroy the oppressive empire (assuming a way off Rhand can be found).

It’s a good story frame that scales nicely — the backdrop is big and epic, but the concerns are immediate: survive, scrounge, survive some more. It’s a shame it is hampered by such an intense combat system (and, like, that is all the system really is). Aside of a skirmish game, I don’t believe Living Steel saw much more support. Bummer.

Pretty excellent art throughout the book by Toni Dennis, Nadir Elfarra, Dennis Francis and Steve Huston. The Spectral climbing over the wall is definitely burned in my brain, but that level of quality is kept up throughout.

[lady0ctavia]

Hetalia Kiss Headcanons (Allies)

Headcanons on how the Hetalia characters would kiss their S/O, as well as who I think would initiate your first kiss as a couple~

America: Alfred is the kind of guy who gets all giddy and smiles whenever you kiss. You can feel his lips curling into a goofy grin upon yours. His kisses are a little more forceful and abrupt from being fueled by his impulsive "do or die" mentality, causing you to feel a little lightheaded, needing a moment to register what just happened/what is happening. Because of his mentality, your first kiss was 100% initiated by him. He probably kissed you when you were going about your day and the thought of kissing you just came to his mind. He's also not opposed to attacking you with kisses as soon as the two of you are alone.

England: Arthur is a gentleman, alright? As such, PDA is kept to a minimum, and this includes kissing. There's a difference between how he kisses you in public vs. in private. Kisses in public are restricted to kisses on the hand, typically as a form of greeting or just when the mood strikes him (the latter of which is rare). Kisses in private are far more casual but are still sweet and gentlemanly. His kisses take place at random moments throughout the day, such as a peck on the cheek when you're making breakfast. Depending on his mood, his kisses on your lips can range from tender and chaste to firey and intense. There's no in-between. I think he'd be the one to initiate your first kiss, but he'd respectfully ask to do so beforehand.

France: Do I really have to write anything here? Francis is the personification of one of the most romantic places on earth. You can bet your life his kisses are nothing less than the best. Romantic, emotional, passionate, and, depending on his mood, full of desire. Kisses from Francis always manage to leave you breathless and lightheaded. He'd hold you in his arms or hold your hands as he kisses you, doing so as if no one is watching. Shockingly enough, he'd wait for you to initiate your first kiss as a couple. Sure, he's flirted with the idea of surprising you with a passionate kiss for your first. But he wants to make sure you're comfortable.

Russia: Ivan's a great big teddy bear of a man, so of course his kisses are going to reflect that same level of warmth. His kisses are soft, almost barely there, as if afraid he'll accidentally hurt you. He'll kiss you on the top of your head or forehead more often than on the lips or cheek. And when he does kiss your lips, it's so gentle you swear he's barely touching you. Because of his size, he's afraid of accidentally hurting you, so you'd have to reassure him that everything's fine. Because of his shyness, you'll be the one to initiate the first kiss. However, you'll have to stand on your tiptoes to do so.

China: He may seem young on the outside, but internally he's an old man. Yao would resign him to mere kisses on the cheek to show affection. Kisses on the lips are reserved for when you wake up in the morning and when you go to bed at night. His kisses are usually quick but never underestimate the meaning or emotion behind them. He's fairly reserved with affection, so these gestures, while small to others, mean a lot to him. These small kisses are full of affection and love. Despite being more reserved, the first kiss was initiated by him. Being around for so long has allowed him the ability to easily read other people, so he'd be able to figure out if you wanted to kiss him or not.

Canada: Matthieu is, as we all know, exceptionally shy and soft-spoken in public, and so his kisses reflect this. And, much like England, his kisses will differ depending on whether or not the two of you are out in public or not. In public, he'd be the kind of guy to give you a kiss on the cheek or side of your head. But in private... Let's be real here, this guy was raised by Francis. Now, I'm not saying his kisses in private are to the intensity of his father, but he will show an uncharacteristic display of passion and love, holding you tight as he ravishes your mouth (when he's more comfortable with you, anyway). But, regardless, you'll have to be the one to initiate. He's too afraid of messing something up.

Kiss HCs for the Axis can be found here!

[makipedia]

francis forever (ellie x reader)

bigot sandwiches and social anxiety

another slur used here 🤔 also the word constipated is used like a million times.

The following morning came by quicker than you thought it would. You were awake for most of the night, still riddled with anxiety about getting caught in conflict last night with that bigot who decided to make his attitude you and Ellie's problem, too. It was your fault, anyways. You were the one who kissed Ellie in front of everyone; after the way she pulled you in for another one she left you wondering what her real feelings were.

When morning came, you were blinded by the sunlight peeking into your room. You were already awake; anxiety never let you sleep very long, and you'd be lucky to get more than four hours. To say it was a nuisance would be an understatement, especially when you have to wake up early in the mornings for patrolling or tending to another sick or injured person. You'd be kept awake from whatever thoughts that were plaguing your mind and in the morning you'd be filled to the brim with doubts that you're doing a good job. Last night seemed worse than it normally was; you were practically glued to your bed with your blanket over you and laying on your side and replaying the familiar feeling of embarrassment over and over again from your panic attack last night.

You were interrupted by a loud and very hasty knock on your door, making you turn your head to look at it. You turned your head back to your nightstand and looked at your clock reading 5:24. You were late. A heat filled your face as the thought creeped up from your amygdala and began swirling all around your brain that you were holding everyone back by being so late. Albeit you knew that other people were late as well, but you also knew they didn't care if they received lip for their tardiness. You did, and that's what matters.

You were close to staying huddled up in bed and letting your anxiety win this time until a familiar and hoarse voice calling out from the other side of your front door.

"Y/n, come on," Ellie called out groggily, lightly banging her fist against the door. Jesse stood next to her, leaning against the wall of your hut and crossing his arms. "We're already late!"

You knew that already. A twinge of annoyance tugged at your heart before you quickly let it go. You realized that you weren't really in any place to be annoyed; especially at Ellie. You sighed before slowly getting up out of bed. Your comforter slid off the mattress and onto the floor, puddling around your feet; you looked down, frowning slightly. You clicked your tongue before leaning down and grabbing it, tossing it over your bed and setting it neatly so that you wouldn't be bothered with it when you come back. After making your bed to look nice and neat knowing you would be messing it up all over again, you shuffled over to your closet and changed out of the clothes you unknowingly wore last night, another wave of heat filling your cheeks as they fall to the floor. You pick your hoodie off of its hanger and slip it on, smelling it to see if you need to out on another spray of perfume. To your dismay, you did. It didn't stink, it just didn't smell like something you concocted to cater to your noses interests. You decided you'd to wait on drowning yourself in perfume until you smell-tested your cargo pants too; fortunately they still smelled like the last time you put on your strawberries and honey perfume with those pants. You spent the next few minutes gathering up your clothes and your black beanie just to keep your ears warm, your gloves too, your backpack, spraying on your perfume, and patching your medical badge on your right sleeve. You tied your bootlaces into double knots before finally opening the door right as Ellie was about to bang on it again.

Ellie and Jesse stood there outside your door, talking about something which you couldn't hear from behind the door for the time it was still shut. You looked at the both of them, your eyes shifting between the two of them before ultimately landing on Ellie. A smile tried working its way onto your lips, the corner of your mouth stretching into a tiny grin as you watched small specks of snow catching onto her auburn hair. And then you're reminded of how last night ended; embarrassment slowly slid up your spine and spreading goosebumps across your skin. Lucky your arms were covered; you could already tell your arm hairs were standing up straight.

"Look who we have here," Jesse commented in his usual smooth tone. You and Ellie both looked at him with raised eyebrows. "She finally crawled out of her hole."

"Shut up," you let out a chuckle as you step out, Ellie and Jesse moving back and giving you room to shut your door and locking it. You turn back to them, your arm going under your hoodie and sticking your house key in your bra. "I didn't sleep too good last night."

"We can tell. You look like a raccoon," Jesse joked, to which you only rolled your eyes at. You shifted your backpack over your shoulders and brushing past him and Ellie.

"You try sleeping with social anxiety up your ass for a night. Then you can tell me about looking like a raccoon."

"It can't be that bad," Jesse looks at Ellie as the two of them follow after you. Ellie looks at him like he's crazy as she shrugs. He shakes his head, "Didn't Cat have something similar, Ellie?"

"Fuck if I know," Ellie frowns slightly and shrugs again. Being reminded of her old relationship with Cat made her shudder and shake her head free of the chills. "She never told me shit."

"Did you ever ask?" Your head made a quarter turn to look at Ellie from the corner of your eye. A grin was fully bloomed on your face, and seemingly cheeky—the only shit-eating grin she'd ever seen on you before. Ellie scoffed and looked at Jesse with another halfhearted frown.

"Thanks for bringin' that fuckin' topic up, man."

"What? She was the only one I could think of who related to Y/n," Jesse interjected, shrugging nonchalantly. "Also, y'all should head to the Tipsy Bison. Seth's got something to say to you two."

"Is it another slur?" You call out, turning your head the other way to look at Jesse as he lets out a chuckle. You roll your eyes at the humor he finds in your retort, but you really were curious if that old fart had another slur to call you and Ellie or if Maria talked some sense into him, or if he was just drunk.

"Nah, I don't think so. I saw Maria heading over so she probably talked to him about what he said last night. What even happened?"

"It's a long story," Ellie answers quickly. You felt the weight lifted off your chest when Ellie answered as quickly as she did. The back of your mind wished that it was because Ellie had somehow known you wouldn't have liked talking about it, but you knew it was just because she often likes to run her mouth.

"But he basically saw me and her kissing, and Seth didn't like that, so he decided to make it her problem first," Ellie pointed to your back for a moment. She drew her finger away and let her arm fall back to her side. "And when we were being the mature ones there, he called her a dyke, and that's when it kinda got messy."

"So Joel decked him?" Jesse questions. "That's what I heard happened."

"He pushed him," Ellie sighs. Her thoughts roam back to last night when she was talking to Joel. Her heart sank slightly when she thinks about what Joel said about you and Ellie being a thing. She remembers the embarrassment in her voice and the flush of her cheeks when she was too quick to object and say that it was just a kiss and she probably didn't mean anything by it.

Jesse shakes his head as he walks up ahead of you and towards the Tipsy Bison, holding the door open for you and Ellie. You thank him quietly with a soft nod of your head and a smile as you walk in. Ellie simply glances at him, sending her thanks look before following short after you and even walking next to you. Jesse let the door fall closed and got a glance at the two of you, seeing how close Ellie seems to want to be and how you let her. He smiles to himself before trekking off somewhere else to let you and Ellie talk with Maria.

"Ellie! Y/n," a voice called out. You and Ellie turned your heads in sync to find Maria sitting on the side of the bar where she was facing the door that led to an office. You sighed quietly, glancing at Ellie with a knowing look; your eyes met each other like you mirrored her, wearing the exact same expression on both your features before shuffling around the bar towards Maria.

"You ready for what that bigot has to say?" Ellie says quietly under her breath, her head tilting towards you.

"Not really," you shrug slightly and letting out another exasperated exhale. "If he's apologizing then I'm not believing a word of it."

"Me neither," Ellie scoffs, shaking her head and keeping quiet when you both approached Maria. You stood there next to Ellie nervously; your arm softly touched her sleeve, reminding you of your close proximity. You frequently glanced at her while the three of you waited for Seth to come out of his office.

"Seth has something to say to the both of you," Maria announced to the two of you. She turns her head towards Seth's door, calling his name. Your stomach churns and your heart races again; when he appears from his holed up office, you're brought back to last night when he insulted you and Ellie and brought a panic attack along with it. You felt a pang of irritation sprouting in your chest at the sight of him and his old face. Your heart clenched almost painfully as you listened to his half-assed apology. You weren't sure if the distaste for him was evident on your face, but it seemingly was when Maria gently swatted your shoulder and pushed the sandwiches Seth made into your chest, forcing you to take them.

The muscles in your chest felt feverishly hot—not from the steak sandwiches Seth had to offer—but from the resentment growing inside you and making your eyes narrow and your mouth lift up into a dirty look. You were knocked out of your headspace when Ellie nudged your arm and cocked her head towards the front door, signaling that it was finally time to leave. The heat in your chest dissipated instantly when your eyes caught onto Ellie, the breath you'd been subconsciously holding finally getting released and letting your lungs relax from the stress being put on them. In other words, you let out a small sigh of relief, following after Ellie, Maria and Jesse out to the door.

"You buy any of that bullshit?" Ellie asked again just like she did earlier. Her head tilted closer towards you, invading your space slightly. You didn't mind, of course; after all, you invaded her space last night by initiating that kiss which got you and her into that mess in the first place, so you couldn't complain (also because you liked the feeling you got in your stomach when Ellie was close, but you'd rather not dwell on that while Jesse and Maria are around).

"No," you bring your hand up to the side of your warm face, your fingers gently scratching your jaw. "Drunk actions are sober thoughts. He meant what he said last night."

"That's a philosophical way to put it," Jesse interrupted, turning his head back to look at you and Ellie. You looked up at him, silently ignoring what he said before shifting your gaze over to Maria.

"When you go out, I want you to trade off with Joel and Tommy," Maria looks back at Jesse. "Those boys have been up there for way too long now."

"Got it; where do I meet them?"

"Go up to the northwest lookout. They're scheduled to arrive later on today."

You looked at Ellie while Maria and Jesse conversed, letting out another sigh. Ellie turns her head and looks at you, her eyes scanning over your face as she squares her shoulders.

"You're all huffy puffy," she comments quietly, her head tilting closer to you once again. You pay no mind to her commentary as you shove the wrapped sandwiches in your hoodie pouch and fix your gloves, pulling them tighter of your fingers and strapping them to your wrists. "What's up with you?"

"There's a lot of things to be exasperated about," you have to hold yourself back from letting out another sigh. It's like once you did it this morning, your body won't stop sighing and huffing and letting out short breaths. You look back at Ellie as you take the wrapped sandwiches and hold it with both your hands, using it as a hand warmer rather than breakfast. "Waking up late and holding you back, seeing Seth, being around all these people, going on patrol."

"Social anxiety sounds like a pain in the ass," Ellie comments. She earned something other than a sigh from you, like a legendary pull from a roll in a game she'd spend so much of her time playing: a chuckle and a smile.

"It's definitely not fun," you go back to letting out another sigh; legitimately, this time, as you were thinking about what social anxiety has done to you and your previous relationships. How it interferes with your job as a medic and how it prohibits you sometimes from moving forward during patrols because the stress and fear you get from being around so many infected leaves you nearly breathless at times.

"Ellie, do you know the creek trails?" Maria interrupts you and Ellie, turning her head to look at Ellie from the corner of her eye.

"Not really," she answers lowly, shaking her shoulders and wiping snow off her jacket.

"Y/n, haven't you done it a bunch?" Jesse interjects before Maria says anything else. You look up between the both of them, your eyes switching rapidly onto both of their figures. You open your mouth to say something despite the words not already being strung together for a complete answer yet, and you blurt something out before you can think.

"Yeah," in truth, you were familiar with it, but you didn't know it like the back of your hand. Your eyes trailed over to the source of why you completely answered absentmindedly and catch onto Ellie's side profile. You swallow the spit collecting in your gums, your cheeks burning from the embarrassment crawling up from your abdomen and stirring in your gut. "I can take her, if that's what you're asking."

"That solves that," Maria takes over the conversation from your unknowing hands.

You mentally thank her for saving you from embarrassing yourself even further, even when nobody else seemed to notice. You felt even more embarrassed at the fact you thought you were the only one who was feeling like you embarrassed yourself, and it's gonna show in the way your hands shake around the hot bunch of sandwiches and the way you make yourself shrink. You hated the way you were being thrown into a constant loop of never ending embarrassment or fear and anxiety. You were sure that Jesse and Maria could feel the tension pouring off you—more importantly, Ellie could possibly feel it. Your hands lightly squeezed the sandwiches, making a dent in them as you clenched your jaw tightly.

You don't even notice that Maria and Ellie are talking about Joel because you're so caught up in your own thoughts. You're staring at the snow on the ground with a constipated look on your face; your lips pursed and your eyes squinted ever-so slightly and your head was hanging low. Someone from afar would think you're sick, and you might as well be.

"Ellie," Jesse calls out to her, his head tilting to look around and seeing that you're still stuck in your spot by the gate where Ellie and Maria stopped to talk. "Get your little girlfriend to the stables. I think she's feelin' a little anxious."

"My god," Ellie mutters under her breath and shakes her head when Jesse refers to you as her girlfriend. She feels a swarm of butterflies flocking around her stomach as she turns her head to look at you, watching you look like you're about to throw up.

"You alright over there?" Ellie calls, yanking you back from your headspace. You look away from the snow and find Ellie standing there, watching you stand there like a hunchback. You realize your face makes you look like you're seconds away from crying when Ellie frowns softly and strolls over to you.

"I'm alright," you fix your beanie over your head and meet Ellie halfway, standing right in front of each other next to a gate. Beyond that gate was a playground where a bunch of a kids and a woman were having a snowball fight.

Ellie got the feeling that you were lying and narrowed her eyes slightly. "You sure?"

"I'm fine," you repeat, resting your hand on the fence. You look back down at the snow, the constipated look coming back as your lips begin to purse slightly. Ellie shuffles in front of you, leaning against the fence as she thinks about what to say next as to not set off your alarms again.

"Don't worry about that kiss last night, if that is what you're worrying about," Ellie finally mumbles in the middle of the awkward silence between you both. You look up at her, noticing the same look on her face. A smile makes its way onto your face and you giggle, making Ellie look at you like you're crazy.

"Wait, what's so funny?"

"You look like you're about to cry, Ellie."

"What! You're one to talk, you should've seen your face earlier!"

"Well, I don't look like it now," you chuckle lightly as you softly pat the edge of the fence with your hand. Your other hand reaches into your hoodie pouch to feel the sandwiches still stuffed in there, making you sigh. "And, I'm not worrying about the kiss from last night, by the way."

"You obviously are," Ellie grinned cheekily as she looked over at the kids having a snowball fight with the woman—who you and Ellie both recognized as Dina— on the playground. Ellie turned to glance at you with a knowing smile. "You're a bad liar, you know."

"Shut up," you scoff as you lightly kick Ellie's shin, making her hiss and take a step back. "I'm not worrying about it. I'm just thinking about it."

"Uh huh," she shook her head, like she didn't believe you. "Right."

"I'm for real," you press, earning another look from Ellie that made you scoff. You pursed your lips together and internally cursed her for being so annoying. "I'm just...thinking about how I could've done it differently, y'know? I could've waited until there was more privacy or—"

"Stop," Ellie held her hand up. "It's okay, Y/n. I'm not reading into it or anything, and you shouldn't either."

"Well, someone has to," you shrug, your hand patting on the fence again. You and Ellie both feel a sting on your cheeks, snow getting in your hair, under your hoodie and even a little bit in your eyes. You look around at the playground and realize you were hit with a snowball, frowning slightly as you raise your arms halfway.

"What the hell, guys?!"

"We're not even playing!" Ellie shouts. Your head whips around to her as an idea pops up, a figurative lightbulb lighting up over your head.

"Wanna get these guys back?" You ask quietly, a smile making its way onto your lips. Ellie turns to you with a knowing look, contemplating it for a split second before nodding affirmatively.

"Yeah, I do."

"You asked for it!" You hopped over the fence, landing on the snow and gathering up clumps into your hands to make a snowball. Ellie hopped in after you, making a larger snowball and tossing it at one of the kids.

You crawled next to Dina—the woman who'd been previously having the snowball fight with these children. You peeked your head over the wooden support that led to some steps on the jungle gym. Your smile morphed into a wider grin as you took your snowball and threw it right at one of the kid's faces, laughing heartily as it hit him in the cheek. You went back down and made another ball, molding it with your hands and solidifying it. You handed it to Dina when you saw her throw her own, giving it to her and going back to making your own.

"Eat it, short stacks!" You cackled as you got up from behind the jungle gym, Dina taunting them next to you and teasing them halfheartedly. Your heart leapt in your chest as it dawned on you that you set aside your anxiety to get back at these weasels, your grin widening even further until your cheeks began to hurt.

You yelped when a kid tackled you to the ground, Dina falling with you as the children ganged up on you both. You let out a playful scream as the kids started a dog pile on you and Dina. Your chest felt like it would be crushed from the amount of weight being added on and on over your body. You felt you'd surely be stuck the ground and be flattened like Flat Stanley until Ellie began plucking them off one by one and finally releasing you and Dina both from the bottom of the pile.

"Thanks," you finally catch your breath and take Ellie's hand, pulling yourself up. You dust your hoodie and your pants free of snow; your legs trembled from the freezing pressure that was put on them. You cupped your hands over your mouth and blew a breath of hot air into your palms before reaching down and rubbing your legs.

"C'mon," Ellie pointed her head towards the exiting gate. She fixed her gloves over her hands again and lightly kicked the gate open, walking out and heading towards the stables.

You scoffed as you watched Ellie kick open the gate, taking your sweet time to close it like the civil person you are. You shut it before jogging to catch up with Ellie, your shoulder gently brushing against hers.

"Are you completely new to creek trails?" You asked. Ellie turned her head to glance at you; small, tiny snowflakes were stuck to her hair, making you smile in adorable of how absolutely adorable she looked with her pink nose and pink cheeks and snow-dusted hair.

"No," she breathed. "I've been before. Like, once or twice. I'm usually going down towards the ski lifts and near the music store."

"I'm happy to show you around, then," you hummed in satisfaction. Silence comfortably stretched between you two; the air felt more familiar and relaxed than when you were at the Tipsy Bison. Maybe because you aren't around so many people, especially Seth and his half-baked apology. But the weight that was normally on your shoulders and keeping you relatively quiet and blue like you usually were was lifted. Your thoughts didn't seem to roam back to whatever fear was army-crawling up your spine and sending shivers across your entire body as often as they typically did. You felt comfortable, a rare sensation in your nervous wreck of a body.

You reach into your pocket and pull out the sandwiches, which were flattened from the dog pile, then cringed. You parted your lips in slight disappointment and looked at Ellie with a long face.

"You want these sandwiches?"

"I'm alright."

"You need to eat, Ellie. It's not good to skip breakfast when you're out for patrol this early."

"I'm not eating bigot sandwiches," Ellie scoffed. You sighed lightly, rolling your eyes as you made the first turn into the stables and walked ahead of Ellie. A man standing by your horses was already holding you and Ellie's reigns. He hands you both of them; you take your own reigns to your horse, Orion, then handed the other reigns to Ellie. You shove the sandwiches back into your pocket and walk your horse to the outside of the stables. The constipated look came back, and for whatever reason, you felt constipated. Maybe the meat in the sandwiches really were made from spouts of bigotry and prejudice instead of just cows. Eating something Seth made had your stomach churning, a sudden disinterest (or lack thereof; barely any interest was there at all) filling up the pit of your intestines. You scoff quietly as you climb onto Orion.

Jesse walks over to you and Ellie with two long guns in his hands, reaching up and handing the both of them to you and her.

"Settle down, children," he calls out to the crowd gathered at the front gate. A handful of people were called out for paired patrols, all of them on their horses and seemingly glaring at you as if they're silently telling you off got making all of them late.

Jesse gave a short speech to the crowd, one that you didn't listen to after hearing it countless times for the past year and a half. You let out a quiet, nervous sigh as your hands tightly gripped the reigns until you thought they'd fall off. Your thoughts drifted off to other things— Ellie related things— and somehow you managed to maintain a straight face. Underneath that constipated and slightly stoic look was a swarm of butterflies frolicking about in your stomach, one more butterfly being added which each knew thought of Ellie that popped up in your head.

The unpleasant sound of the gate being opened brought you back to reality, making you shake your head as you snap Orion's reigns and ride out at full speed.