#I just want you to imagine Cross holding Killer's hand guiding him down a dark hallway like he's helping a lil old lady cross the street

[somegrumpynerd]

Assorted Horror and Killer doodles since there aren't enough of them c:

Killer by Rahafwabas Horror by Sour-apple-studios

[darkdevasofdestruction]

An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

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For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

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Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

[ladywaifuuwrites]

Why do you hate me?

Pairings: Giyuu Tomioka x fem! Reader

Synopsis: Ever since you met Giyuu you hated him. Well, not hate...you just don’t like him to a higher extent and you don’t know why. But Giyuu likes you and wants to ask you: “Why do you hate me?”.

Warnings: angst | swearing | a bit fluff | past life! au

a/n: I’ve been obsessed lately with past life regression and past life things and I just absolutely love history. So this is me letting my imagination run wild. And I love Giyuu. He’s my main man ❣️

Pls. give this a chance huhuness

word count: 1,635

Flashbacks are italicized  

part 1 part 2

Party lights, red solo cups, booze and streams of laughter are present in the air. (Y/N) is thoroughly enjoying the party. After all, she just lied to her parents about going to a birthday party. But it’s actually a birthday party, a wild birthday party.

“HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY TENGEN”

Everybody shouts at the top of their lungs and goes “WOOOOOOOOH”. Tengen is now covered in confetti, booze, and girls. The drunk ladies latched themselves on him and he kissed their heads one by one.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, everyone! Let’s get this party started!!!!” And everyone goes crazy and jumps out on the large pool outside.

You smile at their enthusiasm and shook your head to yourself, feeling good and happy about this event. Shinobu rolled her eyes and just went for the kitchen while Mitsuri is snacking on the food at the table, quietly. 

A scream left Shinobu’s lips as Tengen picked her up and proceeded to walk to your way. Mitsuri dropped her food while you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion on what is happening. 

“Oh no” Mitsuri mumbled before running away but Tengen caught her and placed her on his shoulder alongside Shinobu.

“NOOOOOOOOO. Please let me go!” Mitsuri cried out as she kept on hitting Tengen’s back.

“How about you (Y/N)? Are you gonna disobey the flamboyant birthday boy’s wishes?” 

“If you’re gonna do that to me, then no. What do you want?” You asked crossing your arms and turned on your sassy mode. 

“For the good girls club to have some fun! Why are you guys holding back? There’s so much fun this flamboyant party has to offer!” Tengen exclaimed.

“Please let me go.” Shinobu said with a smile on her face but she is really annoyed.

Before Tengen could say anything, a voice interrupted him.

“Hey! Let my friends go!” Makomo ran towards Tengen and pulled on Shinobu and Mitsuri’s arm but Tengen was far too tall so he lifted the girls up.

“Not until you grow some height!” Tengen clapped back which made Makomo extra angry. Sabito laughed loudly and kept wheezing about the joke.

“That’s a good one Tengen!” 

“Ye- Oh! Hey! Giyuu! My man!” The tall man threw the girls on his shoulders onto the pool causing screams to fill the air. 

You laugh at their situation but you are suddenly pushed onto the water. It was just like slow motion when you fell. Underneath the water, you move your legs so that you resurface but you seem to be having a hard time. Your legs feel tired and numb. Oh my gosh, is this how I’m going to die? Who the fuck killed me?

A huge splash can be heard as bubbles formed in the water and made way for someone’s body. Mesmerizing blue eyes met yours and you could feel as if you’re running out of breath. Are you running out of breath because of the water? Or because of those blue eyes?

Strong arms wrapped around your waist as you float back to the surface. You gasped for breath and put your hands to your face to whisk away the water on your face.

Makomo held her hand for you and you accepted it to get out of the pool. Shinobu put a towel around your body as Mitsuri put a towel around your head.

“What the fuck? Did you guys forget that I can’t swim?” You scream at them angrily as tears welled up in your eyes. The boys couldn’t look at you and the girls looked at you sadly.

“Giyuu pushed you” You turned your head to the voice and found Sanemi standing beside Obanai. Who the hell is Giyuu?

“I’m sorry. Sanemi bumped into me and I accidentally pushed you from the impact, I’m sorry.” A deep attractive voice perked your ears and led you looking at a man beside the pool with his head hung low. Water dripped from the man’s dark hair to his blue shirt and to his black sweatpants. He was basically covered in water and he looked hot. 

He’s the one who saved you. It was the same blue eyes that met yours underwater. But your heart swelled with anger and angry tears filled your eyes, disregarding the fact that he saved you. But he was also the one who almost killed you!

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him, because the way his head hung low as if utterly begging for forgiveness hurt your heart. Tears fell down your cheeks as you keep looking at him. It was like someone kept on stabbing your heart.

“(Y/N)” Makomo said softly and guided you out of the scene. Shinobu and Mitsuri followed on as everyone fell quiet.

————————————

You didn’t go to parties anymore. You didn’t want to see that guy again. Giyuu Tomioka. 

Life was boring without your friend’s killer parties. The girls offered to stay behind with you but you shooed them because you knew they wanted to go. But of course, they felt bad that they left you alone. So they ordered food and drinks for you, making you surprised since Mitsuri didn’t try to eat them.

And now you’re alone. Watching boring movies since you almost watched everything on Netflix. 

You can’t take it anymore. You need to get out. So you put on decent clothes and headed to the bar and café for music and relaxation.

It was another chill night at the place you went to. The band is singing slow soft songs about the betrayals of love and you feel like crying. 

You wipe your tears before they truly cascade down. Then suddenly two glasses of beer thump down at your table. You look at whoever placed it there and the sight widened your eyes.

What is he doing here? Giyuu sat down on the chair opposite to yours and slid the other glass of beer to your direction. Instead of being nice and saying thank you, you spat at him. “Who said you can sit there?” 

He froze. Sadness passed in his eyes before blinking and returning to his normal gaze. You raised an eyebrow and he cleared his throat. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll find another seat.” Giyuu said and took away his beer, leaving the other one behind. You look back to see him walking around to find an unoccupied space. He was about to take a seat when a group of friends clashed with him and they exchanged words for a while. He ended up giving up his seat.

You sighed at what you saw. Your heart clenched in hurt because he looked so pitiful finding a seat. Now, he’s just awkwardly leaning on a wall, drinking his beer a few inches from a couple making out. 

You raised your hand and waved them at Giyuu’s direction. He took a double-take at you waving your hand at him, motioning for him to come to you. And he did, looking like a lost puppy.

He sat back down and you two drank the night away awkwardly.  

————————————

It’s 7am on a Sunday morning with you just staring at the wall in your bedroom. You dreamed again about snow, demons, and a half-and-half haori. It’s all just the same thing over and over again.

Your mind takes you back when Giyuu offered to take you home. You said it’s alright but he insisted and you have no choice but to let him. 

And the elevator scenario. Oh my gosh, the elevator scenario. Your face heats up as you cry into your pillow. 

You live apart from your parents but they still ask you where you go, who is in your apartment and who are you bringing to your apartment. They just called in earlier and asked who you were with. Of course, you didn’t say who it was. You just said you’re with friends and ended the conversation.

And now the elevator is taking too damn slow to go up. You turn to Giyuu to find him asleep, and he leaned on your shoulder. You immediately got away from him as if he has an infectious disease and the poor guy is snapped back to reality. He looks around groggily and lands his sight on you which causes him to widen his eyes. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Can you please stop apologizing? It’s getting annoying.” You said to him annoyed. The sight of his head low and his gaze to the floor is hurting your heart once again. You want to lift his head up and hug him. But why do you want to hug him? You shook your head.

“I’m sorry-”

“I said stop! Why won’t you stop apologizing?” You scream at him and he closes his eyes as if hurt. Tears escape your eyes because of the frustration and you don’t even know why you are frustrated.

You just kept crying in front of him and Giyuu comes close to you to embrace you but you push him away aggressively. He looked so shocked, hurt, sad, full of emotions. 

The elevator door opened and you immediately went to your apartment door but a hand gripped your wrist.

Giyuu stood there, his brows furrowed in confusion and anger, his grip tight on you and you crying. You kept on trying to remove his hand on you but it wouldn’t budge. 

You could always tell what’s in people’s eyes and your intuition never failed you. His eyes were full of affection and longing. His hand forced your hand to fit into his and now your fingers are between his fingers. Why are you doing this?

“I like you”

He said as if he read your thoughts.

“But...” 

Your heart dropped.

“Why do you hate me?” Giyuu whispered 

You have never cried so hard in your entire life. 

a/n: I promise the next parts will make so much sense. I didn’t plan on this becoming a multi-chap fic. Oh well. It was all so much better in my head :((

[itstheimpossibledream]

Thee Stallion

Word Count: 5,467

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Megan The Stallion, Hotch x Emily Prentiss

Summary: I’m trying something new, the writing style, the character type and fandom all a bit different than my usual stories so please lmk what you think ! So this first part is loosely based on Season 3 Episode 17. A Spencer Reaid sexual redemption story of sorts. Spencer’s high school crush grows up to be singer & sex icon Megan thee Stallion but, when a killer sadist and kidnapper enters her circles she turns to Spencer& The BAU  for help. The Team ends up going undercover at a sex party and things ensue. I’m aware it the most random pairing on the planet and it didn’t need to happen.But, this is what I wanted to write so like……..suck it???🤷🏾‍♀️Also a Prentiss and Hotch hook up ??? whaaaaat? I know I know I’m unhinged. Enjoy sluts😜Again Feedback is always welcome and requests are open! Please don’t copy or repost my fics without my permission!

"I don't know. Are you sure your parents aren't going to mind?" Spencer asked, nervously biting his bottom lip. He stepped into the doorway of the large home. It smelled clean, he noted that it didn't have the smells of a normal house, it's scents didn't remind him of family but more of a hotel.Scents of  maids, glass cleaners and overly expensive clothing filled his nostrils. He wasn't judging her but, to say her parents were filthy rich would be an understatement. Freshman year she moved to Las Vegas, and a week ago Mrs. Baird had asked Spencer if he'd mind tutoring her after school. He played it cool in front of his favorite teacher but, inside his heart had skipped for joy. He never actually expected her to ask him to walk her home. Not that he could consider saying no. No one would be looking for him anyway. As the Vegas sun beat down on them his heart soared, even in the silence.This infact was his cloud nine.He just never expected for the hottest girl in school to admit to wanting to spend time with him,much less for an extended period. Obviously, it was a purely platonic mathematical meeting but, still this was more alone time with a girl he wasn't related to than he had had so far in his life. She headed up the stairs and he followed behind her like a lost puppy, trying with all his might not to look up her incredibly short school-uniform-issued skirt,as she ascended. It wasn't necessarily that she was the most popular girl in school, or the fact that she was the hottest that made him crazy about her, as much as it was the fact that she always smiled at him. She was just nice. The day he met her,Mom was having an episode, a bad one and she forgot to wake him up for school. Much to his surprise this day was also her first day of school, she smiled at Spencer in the office and he made sure to set an alarm knowing he couldn't rely on his mother and was never late to school again. He vowed to himself to never miss that smile if he could help it. 

The intricate wooden door swung open into what Spencer could only imagine was the inside of a pepto-bismol bottle, or every girl's dream. The entire room was hot pink and bright, it wasn't what he had pictured for her but then again she was doing many things out of character today. 

"Are you sure your parents are okay with me being in your room?" he asked again, just to be on the safe side. She broke into laughter shooting him a look of astonishment that also somehow managed to make him feel as though he had asked a stupid question. 

"They never care that there are boys in my room. They're never home." she retorted quickly.

"O." Spencer was surprised by the popping sound his lips made as he said it.

"Why?" she followed up quickly "You've never had a girl in your room before?" she took off her sweater, embellished with the school's emblem and sat it on the back of her color coordinated office chair.

"Ummmmm no." He replied honestly .

"Then you should invite me over sometime." She said, crossing the room to sit on her impossibly large bed. 

"O ummm- I don't think that'd be a good idea." he whispered to himself. The room fell silent for a moment and he realized that he had made the moment awkward, she had offered to come to his house, to be in his room and he had turned her down. 

"Your uhhhh-Your room is VERY pink." he managed to get out in order to cover the silence. He scratched the back of his head, a visual declaration of his insecurities manifesting and she doubled over in laughter again, finding herself shockingly both amused and turned on by his honesty. Men weren't honest like that, and definitely not with her. 

"Pretty observant. I guess that's why you're the smartest kid in the state." She winked. He ignored the wink, it probably wasn't intentional. 

"Actually it's just the Tri-state area but......thanks" he trailed off again. This time she didn't try to come up with something to say to make him more comfortable. She allowed him to sit in the silence and shockingly he realized he was less bothered by it. She watched as he fiddled with his hands, the veins in his slender fingers raised to attention. Eventually, She pulled her textbook from her back pack and opened to a problem that she was having trouble with. Spencer watched over her shoulder as she worked through the math on her own. Truthfully, she got farther than he had expected her to. He could tell though that at this part she was stuck, he gave her a second to see if she would catch her mistake.But, he couldn't bare to watch it anymore , reaching down his hand to cover hers, guiding it to write the right numbers. When he leaned in she could smell his cologne, a scent much more mature than that of anyone else  their age. She wanted Spencer bad. He had to be avoiding it not to notice.He was actually the first boy she had had in her room that didn't attempt to get her naked the second the door closed behind them. His adams apple bobbed as he finished the last number and she decided to go for it. There was something about the curve in his lip as he smiled down at his math that made her want to jump his bones. She could tell he wasn't the kind of guy you fake an orgasm for. He was someone who wasn't afraid to work at something until they got it right. 

"Can you sit in this chair for me?" she asked, slowly running her hand over the seat's back.

"sure." he shrugged, taking the book with him, completely unaware of your intentions. You move to the door and lock it, he was probably a virgin,probably wanted a less risky experience.You straddle his right thigh and his eyes immediately snap up to meet you,when you finally lower yourself onto his leg, he can't ignore it anymore. You feel his body tensing up under you,

"Do you want me to stop?" you say looking directly in his eyes. He had never made uninterrupted eye contact with you for this long but you could see the wheels in his head turning. 

"NO!" he says, louder than he had expected to, afterall he was the smartest kid in the entire tri-state area. He knew what you were offering him now. You lean down to kiss him, at first his lips don't move and you wonder if you had completely misjudged him.Then, you feel a hand move to the back of your head as he cradles you to his mouth,pushing back, his tongue fighting for dominance. You slowly began rolling your hips on his leg, leaning in at the top, putting the most pressure on your clit. You could feel him growing hard, and soon enough you were rubbing him through his pants as he exhaled the tiniest moans. You were in love with that sound, and you knew you would do anything he asked you to, as long as he never stopped making it. He was able to lift himself up and move his pants down enough to spring his cock free from his underwear, it was so shockingly confident and unlike him a few minutes prior and you cherished it. You lifted your skirt for him so he could move your underwear to the side and enter you.The entire walk home had felt like foreplay to you anyway, the underwear you were wearing had been soaked through. He looked up at you, eyes heavily lidded and filled with lust. He didn't seem as innocent as he had before entering your room. Swinging your leg to his side so you were fully straddling him, you lowered yourself to him and relished in the intake of breath he had as his tip began exploring your walls.He looked up at you so innocently you couldn't help but moan out his name. 

"Shhh. Shh.We don't want anyone to hear you." He whispered before pulling you in for another kiss. You whine into his mouth as he ruts his hips up into you. His hips move with force but, control he's savoring it, not wanting to cum too soon. It was his first time, you wouldn't have held it against him but, god were you glad he was lasting. You were beginning to unravel ontop of him. His nimble fingers worked open the buttons of your shirt as you bounced on him. He reached a hand inside and you were surprised by the warmth of his long hand as he plamed your breast,working your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“Oh. my god." you breathed over and over again, as he continued pushing into you. The sensation was much more than you were used to,and you grappled with your emotions as he pushed you over the edge. You were loud, there wasn't even an attempt to hold it in. He pulled back from your mouth, a large smile breaking across his face. He was beaming with pride and while you loved to see how happy your orgasm had made him, you were slightly annoyed to learn that even Spencer was not entirely exempt from succumbing to unnecessary male bravado. You could feel him moving inside you, pulsing his dick against your walls as he watched you come down from your high. He brought your face to his, kissing you deeply as you began to roll your hips onto him again. His gaze is dark and you press your hands down on his chest to adjust yourself as you ride him. He loves watching you,everything from the way you flip your hair, to the noises that escape your throat with each thrust. You kiss his neck, working your lips on the space behind his ear, his eyes roll to the back of his head and he whispers a light "Fuck." in response to your action. He began pushing into you fast and quick , he held you up by your hips allowing himself to slide completely in and out of you. When he controlled your hips it allowed him to push up and bottom out, hitting your deepest point. He moans again, his voice hitting a higher pitch than you had expected and you knew what you were doing to him. He pushed into you for the last  time letting out an embarrassingly loud noise as you bounced a bit more, releasing your orgasm all over him. He practically beams up at you , filled with pride. You make out with him again as he slowly softens inside you. 

"Do you ummm-want to finish studying or- I can leave if you...." The confidence of the moments before had evaporated and in its wake was the same timid genius as before. 

"I'd like it if you stayed." you said, peeling your skin from his and removing the rest of your school uniform while changing into your robe.You walked to your bathroom, splashing water on your face and looking at your reflection. You came back from the bathroom to find Spencer dressed, the chair was placed back near the table and the room looked as though nothing had ever happened. He had the book back in his lap and was reading it intently, or maybe he was just staring down at it to avoid making eye contact with you. 

"You can use the bathroom if you want." you smiled at him as you pulled the ties on your robe tighter. 

"I'm okay." he said, barely looking up from the text. There was a bang on the door, that got his attention. He looked at you now, his pupils jumping with fear. The knock hit the door again, stronger this time. 

"I'm coming." she called shakily. She quickly crossed the room and unlocked the door. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 "So that's why they did it?"Derrick said, spinning in his chair again. The bull pen was practically empty but the heat that dripped off of Spencer's lips as he spoke was palpable. 

"He really had no choice." Spencer said furrowing his brow. "American society heralds the high school quarterback as the traditional teen alpha male .What was he supposed to do?" he shrugged, clearing his throat.

" He wasn't supposed to bully you, to embarrass you in front of the whole school. He shouldn't have chosen that.It's not your fault his girlfriend chose you." Derek leaned in, he was good at that, the supportive older brother role. It made him feel safer, it made him feel understood and it gave Derek a window into a part of Spencer's life that he was rarely allowed to see. 

"And that's why you don't want to help her?" Derek asked but it came out as more of a statement. Spencer returned his gaze to his desk while Derek ogled the woman in Hotch's office. 

"Sure had to be good for your ego though."Morgan remarks pleasantly, swinging his chair around again

"Pain and happiness are simply conditions of the ego.Forget the ego. A quote from Laozi."Spencer shrugs, pushing up from his desk. 

"Okay but have you seen her music videos?She twerks Spencer."

"I've seen all of them, the same as she's aware of every achievement and degree I've been honored with. We're friends just......from afar." the corner of Spencer's mouth twitched as he finished and Derek couldn't help but pry more, following him to the coffee stand. 

"Why?" he pushed " Do you think if you get close to her again something else bad will happen?"

"I don't know." his mouth quirked up again while he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Derek was chuckling to himself while stirring his coffee and Spencer knew he could not wait to tell Garcia. 

“What ?” he finally asked unable to ignore Morgan’s chuckles any longer. 

“Just never thought you could handle a sister… much less….” he trailed off.

“Shut up Morgan.” he countered quickly , refusing to make eye contact.

Emily crosses the room towards them, perching atop Morgan’s desk. “You guys got any idea what that’s about ?” She asks motioning towards Hotch’s office.

“Spencer’s friend had some coworkers go missing.” Morgan offers, folding his arms in a fake gesture of jealousy towards Spencer, who rolls his eyes. 

“Ah. What does she do?”Prentiss asks, always the curious one.

“Real-estate.” Spencer quips quickly before shoving his hands into his pockets and moving past them to leave. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed by her, he truly wasn’t. It was more the time in his life that she reminded him of that he wished to escape.His thoughts were silenced  when Hotch announced to the bull pen that they were to meet immediately.

Hotch walked up swiftly behind Prentiss, "Pack and meet back here in 30." Hotch said, throwing the file under his arm. Prentiss looks from Spencer to Derek, and the room becomes silent as they watch Hotch walk away with Megan.

"O We're definitely taking this case." Derek raised his eyebrows and Spencer felt his heartbeat quicken. Okay so he had to be around her again, he could do that. It wasn't as if she was a bad memory. Infact, he associated her with a lot of the positive parts of his teenage years, nothing had really topped losing his virginity. 

"Hey guys-" Prentiss said looking up from the file,"you have no idea how fun this case is gonna be." she said, laughing to herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spencer rapped his pen quickly against the notepad before him. The case actually seemed simple to him, she brought good intel, she practically handed them the unsub their only job was to make a clear, fool proof arrest.Dalton Hughes was wanted for kidnapping and forcing women into sexual slavery. Definitely not their usual work but, she had used Spencer’s name to get FBI attention.And while he attempted to hide it well, Spencer could tell Hotch was more than attracted to her.

 “Reid and Prentiss you’ll be undercover.” Hotch finished 

“ Woahhhh.Wait what?!?!” Spencer exclaimed 

“You brought us this case I assume you wanted to be hands on.” Hotch responds directly.

“ I do- I-I just think Morgan would be less obvious.” he pleaded to deaf ears.

“ Gee thanks.” Derek’s dry humor broke the rest of the room into an uproarious laughter.

“Actually, Tall fit black guy in those circles is either a performer or an athlete-regardless he’s got to much charm. He's  the kind of guy who walks into a room and everyone knows who he is. You guys need someone who can fly under the radar for this.” she says leaning in on the doorframe. Overhearing their meeting wasn’t intentional, she just wanted to make sure he had relayed the case clearly, plus there was only so much space inside the plane. 

“ Great. I’m just the right amount of invisible I guess.” Reid says, faking a smile as he gets up from his seat to pace the aircraft.JJ pats him on the back and you can tell she’s trying to console him but, you know there isn’t much left to console. The rest of the team filed out as you scurried to catch up with Spencer.

“ Did she just profile me?” Morgan asks aloud, a hint of disgust in his voice.

“ Look you know I respect our unspoken bond, and I swear I wouldn’t have come if I had another option.” you say grabbing his arm, pleading for him to look at you. He’d grown a lot since you had last seen him.His muscle tone was becoming as prevalent as his wit.

“ I know.” He admits sternly, his voice is low but sure.

“ I know-I just.I ummmm….” his voice trailed off and you watch as his eyes jumped around, looking everywhere except directly at you. It was impossible for him to be at a loss for words, this silence just meant he wasn’t sure of what he knew he wanted to say. “Can we uhhh-“ he still can’t find the agreeable language before Hotch cuts in. 

“We’re all okay with these assignments then?”he asks. He seemed to accept the assorted responses from the room and returned to his reading of the file. Megan quietly excuses herself to go to the bathroom. 

"Prentiss was right." Rossi smiles to himself, " I do love this case."

"I just don't see why I'm going undercover in a sex ring instead of Derek." Spencer whispers.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Derek shoots back in mock surprise.Both Prentiss and Spencer burst out in laughter, and even Hotch can't help but smile.

"For what it's worth I'd trade spots with you anyday, pretty boy." Morgan says winking at Spencer.

"We need it to be Reid, he and Megan have a good rapport and I want to build on that.The more natural the relationship looks the better."  

"Wait what do you mean relationship?"Prentiss shoots. No one responds, so Prentiss breaks the silence of the jet with an "O.I see......No way.....Well, good for you Reid."

"O my god." Spencer rolls his eyes"can we please just get to L.A. without going through my entire sexual history?"

"Oooooo.So there is a sexual history?" Now, Morgan turns to fully face Reid, clapping him on the back. Prentiss makes a sexual gesture with her hands, and the entire room erupts in laughter again.  

"Stop." Prentiss immediately let's up on the joke at Hotch's command.Everyone attempts to hold it in but, after a second of silence Rossi breaks, and the rest of the group can’t help but follow.  

“You know, I stripped undercover before.” Prentiss cuts in.

“Oh god. How did I know we were going to go back to that.”  Morgan feigns annoyance.

“Good point Emily, you should be paired with Hotch.” Rossi says flippantly.

“That’s fine. We could use Emily’s expertise.” Hotch says, his eyes flaring as he looks down at the file, definitely pretending to read. Clearly it was not fine but, it was more important for him to pretend it was for the sake of the room than not to. Plus, having more agents on the ground was always reassuring. 

The plane begins its landing process and Spencer is lost in thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was calm and collected since the second he stepped off the plane to be honest. It wasn't until she slid her her leg on top of his, showing herself off to the dance floor,as he calmly rested his hand on her knee as if nothing out of the ordinary that he had the time to process what was happening."Okay can you see him?" she whispers into his ear. Ofcourse he can see him, ofcourse he was looking at her. Everyone in the room couldn't help but look at her, she was easily the most beautiful woman in any room she walked into. And while she was not the most famous guest at the party, not by a long shot she was, sure to grab attention that way as well.  Spencer knew that but,he also knew that this was acting, and while he was good at reading other people's behavior he hoped she wouldn’t judge his behavior by the feeling of him growing under her leg. "Are we going to talk to him now?" 

“No ...ummm our job is more to survey. You know keep an eye on everything.” He choked out.

“It’s easier if I have some help.” she smiled. He lightly brushed a finger over the tops of her knees, slowly moving his way up her thigh. It was gentle but, it was teasing enough for her to notice. 

“ I’m not against helping, I just didn’t think you’d need it.” he smiled smugly next to you. 

“What are you smiling about ?” she asked .

“You know you having an orgasm is not part of the assignment right ?”he avoided looking at her as his hand toyed further up the hem of her dress. 

“The assignment was to be realistic. God I thought you were good at school.” she snuck in a kiss on his neck below his ear, like she used to. His breath caught in his throat which he decided to turn into a light cough , thinking that would avoid her detection. 

“This collar means I’m a sub.” she said, grinding her butt onto his lap again. He clears his throat. “Implying that you’re my dominant. If this is going to work you have to seem in control.” she whispered the last part in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. His hand flew to her throat, thumb just lightly pressing its way into her air intake , as he pulled her head towards his. 

“I know what it means.”his voice was low and stern. Infact, the hardest part in prepping for this case was not telling the rest of the group just how much he actually understood the mission. It’s not uncommon for sadists to take interest in the bdsm and kink community but, he wasn’t going to allow himself to fill his coworkers in on his sexual preferences. She looked fragile like this, his hand around her neck, her legs wide for the whole room, as sexual and commanding as she was she had no issue letting him top her, and he thrived on that power. His first industry sex  party was going well as far as he was concerned. She leaned in to kiss him and he let out a disinterested “No.” , looking past her. She didn’t have the time to recover her feelings before he asked “Is there a private room?” 

Sure she had been forward with him, but she was shocked by this admission. Maybe he really had let that young, timid version of himself entirely float away. 

“Yes. down that hall. Any door on the left.” she steadied her voice, trying not to let her excitement be too obvious. Calmly, he pulled his cuff to his mouth “Our suspect is headed to a back room with a woman in an orange dress.” Her eyes shoot to Hotch and Prentiss, who are in their very own form of a compromising position.It was understated and tasteful but, there was no denying that his hand was in her mouth,as she sucked on his fingers.JJ was right by the door immediately headed towards the room,  Spencer slowly got up, and fell in line behind Hotch and Emily kept an eye on the room. In the end, it was JJ’s arrest and Derek and Rossi were outside waiting for her to hand over the perp. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ So what’s your kink?” She asked breaking into a broad smile as a direct result of his uncomfortability. They were supposed to be undercover as strangers,two consenting adults meeting at the party. It’d be naive to pretend as though she never had a crush on Hotch. And even worse for him to deny the attraction as well. For as much time as she had spent with him, it always manages to shock her how he never gave any information unasked. Even as she had spent so much time undercover, she never met anyone in the FBI who would do better with international intelligence than Hotch.

“I don’t have any.”he shrugs crossing his arms across his chest. He hadn’t even taken his jacket off.  She snakes her hand inside his jacket pocket and pulls out a buisness card.

“ Okayyyyy Detective Hotcher” she say, turning the card in her hand as she palms her drink. It was whiskey,he had ordered it for the table , he poured it with such care that a part of you envied the whiskey. To be cared for, to have hands like that pour into you.

“Not so thorough for undercover.” you joke with him

“I’ve been very busy.” he replies with, and you can read into it that he is disappointed in himself. Such a master of perfection but, he couldn’t manage to look comfortable on the obviously expensive couch. You stood infront of him , cocking your head to the side as you undid the belt of your wrap dress. It’s silky material rolled off of your body without hesitation and landed safely on the carpet, revealing the lingerie you had so carefully picked out for this mission. You watch as his eyes move from the dress on the floor to your heels and then trace over your body. He seems incredibly still except for the ticking of his watch. You can tell it was expensive but tasteful, not too large or flashy.He allowed you to walk toward him. You straddled him lightly, lowering yourself down onto him. You felt him exhale as his hands came to your lower back, a warmth spread throughout your body as his hands lightly rubbed your back . You rocked your hips forward and his eyes flashed up to yours. He fit his hands in the crease of your hips as you roll back and forth on his lap. His breath hitches, just enough for you to hear and you smirk knowingly at him.

“ Everyone has a kink agent Hotchner.” His eyes sparkle up at you. You can feel the twinge of interest, skirting his thought. 

“Stop using my real name.” he corrects her sternly, her eyes challenging him 

“So what’s yours ?” He turns his chin up to you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. Your fingers begin working at his tie, and as you roll your hips forward again you can feel his member growing under you.

“ I think that’s convincing enough.” He grunts, trying to remove himself from under you but, you  cradle his hand and look into his eyes as you redirect it to your core.His hands immediately go to work as if he held no validity to his previous statement. You grind down on his fingers a little more.

“ You’re attracting a lot of attention now, I think-“ his whispered pleas were cut off as you bent close to his ear “ I thought I was the on-the-ground-professional in this case? I thought you needed my what was it ‘extensive experience’?” Hotch allowed himself to laugh at the use of a direct quote. 

“So getting me hard in a room full of people proves that?”he retorts quickly.

“No”, she replies calmly continuing to ride his fingers while nonchalantly drawing circles on his chest. 

“ But it does ensure that you’ll think of me the next few times when you’re alone. You will have wished you fucked me.And that’s even better.” She smiled, removing Hotch’s fingers and slowly seating herself next to him. He swung his arm over her shoulder and she brought his fingers to her mouth,placing them on her tongue.He shivered but, watched intently as she sucked on his fingers until he heard Spencer over his ear feed. The subject had headed for a private room, she was aware of the energy change and as Hotch moved towards the perp she, expertly blended into the crowd of other confused onlookers.

Within an hour of interrogation Rossi got him to reveal the location of the girls he was keeping captive. Soon after, Derek led a unit to retrieve them. It wasn’t their flashiest case but, it definitely gave everyone a warm feeling to go home with. Something the team hadn’t had in a long while. They stood in the lobby of the hotel, everyone with their own secrets,everyone trying to pretend that that wasn’t one of their more challenging missions. Everyone seemed different, quieter somehow; how’s that for a team building exercise Spencer found himself thinking.

“I’m uhhh-” he attempted to break the silence.

“Just go Spence!” the group responded in unison, almost comically.

“Wait. wait.” he stopped at Rossi's command and turned back accepting his handshake, the older agent clapped him on the back and smoothly slid a small stack of condoms into his hand. 

“Go get em’ tiger.” he huffed under his breath, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh to himself, as he turned on his heels to leave. 

His heart raced as he entered the elevator, he wanted to shower, plan his outfit, his words; he wanted to tell her how much he wanted her, how much he had held back for years. His keycard slid into the door, he pushed it open and could barely make out the figure in the dark. Instinctively reaching for his gun,it wasn’t until he heard Megan call out his name that he was brought back to safety.

“Jesus, don’t kill me Spencer.”she laughed 

“You could have been an intruder.”he laughed in agreement of how ridiculous it all was. 

“Do most of your intruders dress like this?”She stood up so he could see, she wore a garter clearly visible below her much outgrown private school issued uniform skirt. The heels and his own opened buttoned down shirt completed the look that he was sure would drive him to his grave. 

“Shit.” he exhaled, covering his face with his hand as she closed the door as well as the space between them; extending her hands to his pants. She could feel he was hard through his khakis, god only Spencer could get away with wearing khakis at an industry event.He quickly swatted her hand away, pulling her face to his. He pushes her against the wall, feeling her curves, feeling her warmth , feeling for the first time untouchable since that day in highschool. 

[olivinesea]

Space Is Only Noise If You Can See, pt.3

Part 1 Part 2

a/n: Surprise! Next part’s here. A bit shorter but no less traumatic so don’t get comfortable. TW major character death, guns, suicide, violence, you’ve got the picture. I’ll do my best to get the final part to you in a timely manner. ~2k

The hits keep coming.

The street was quiet when he got there thirty minutes later. No ambulance or police with their colors flashing across the front of the house. He thought it was odd but it barely registered when everything in his life was a little off. He ran up to the front door and found it slightly ajar. He pushed it open cautiously, uncertain what he would be met with on the other side. It had grown dark, the sun replaced by much weaker street lamps. He felt around for the light switch, knowing he would regret this action.

He sucked in a breath when the shadows were lifted, every gruesome detail just as he remembered. The blood. There was so much blood. He reached up a hand to wipe it away from his eyes. He was numb, unable to look at anything but Morgan’s body, cold and lifeless on the floor. The scene replayed again, this time in Morgan’s entryway, the setting a little different, the results all the same. He had never been able to save them.

The thought of the others, the rest of his team who he’d watched get murdered hundreds of times, reminded him that JJ was there. She had called him, that was why he was here, not a case, not a killer. He wanted to call out for her but it felt wrong to raise his voice in such close proximity to this horror. Instead he carefully stepped around his friend, not looking for fear he would fall to his knees and try to force the life back where it belonged. If he could bring Derek back by returning every drop of blood to the emptied veins, he would spend eternity gathering what had been spilled. If only the world allowed for that kind of trade.

He made it around to the kitchen but found it empty, as were the other rooms on this floor. While he searched he called 911. He didn’t understand why they weren’t there yet, they should be there by now. When he questioned them, the dispatcher told him there’d been no reports made about that address. He quickly relayed the basic details, even more eager to find JJ and discover what had happened between her call and his arrival. He frowned as he hung up, confused. As a precaution, he pulled his gun from its holster, nerves lighting up. JJ wouldn’t have left surely. He crossed the hallway again, this time heading for the stairs. He didn’t know why, there was no reason for her to have gone up there. But there was no reason for any of this. So he climbed to the second floor, placing each footstep carefully on the polished hardwood.

He found her in the master bedroom, curled up on Derek’s king-sized bed, her back to him. The relief he felt upon seeing her dissipated quickly. Something about her form was too still. He approached, apprehensive but also hopeful that the room might dissolve around him at any moment. This had the same feeling as his nightmares, perhaps it was only that. He'd never hoped more that his mind was tricking him.

As soon as he touched her shoulder, he knew. Everything was wrong. The weight of his hand made her body fall back until she was face up, head resting on the pillows. Her blue eyes were open, blonde hair loose around her, some of it caught across her face. He brushed it back, feeling the chill of her skin, the precious warmth already fled. There was no blood but he spotted an empty pill bottle in her hand. His mind fought against what he was seeing, so far from the correct order of things. She had only called him half an hour ago. How was there even time for this to occur? He pulled the bottle from her hand and felt the world spin faster. He blinked, chasing away the errant lines crossing his vision but the words on the label remained the same. The block type informed him that it once held opioids prescribed to one Aaron Hotchner.

He couldn’t imagine how it had ended up here, couldn’t even remember when he had gotten the prescription. It could have been after any number of injuries. He never took more than one or two before his body reminded him how sick they made him feel. The pain relief was never worth the sweating weakness and nausea that accompanied it. He usually tried to decline when they were offered but somehow he regularly ended up with one or two bottles mixed in with his too large assortment of other medications. He worried about it, knowing Jack was getting older, getting taller, might become curious about such things. He knew it was irresponsible to have narcotics he was not keeping track of somewhere as accessible as his medicine cabinet. But he never imagined this would be the consequence of that uncharacteristic lapse in judgement.

He stared at the small orange bottle, dwarfed by his hand. He didn’t know what to do with this information, had no idea how to process its meaning. Stunned he backed out of the room, out of the house completely. Everything he found inside there was upside-down and he needed air. He stood on the porch, looking vacantly out at the street, gun in one hand, death in the other. He rubbed the bottle continuously with his thumb as the ambulance and cop cars began arriving. His thumb caught a little every time it met the edge of the lid, scraping his skin against it, trying to remember when he even got it. When it disappeared.

An officer approached, weapon drawn, demanding he identify himself, wary of the gun dangling from the large man’s fingers. With effort, Hotch focused his eyes on the stranger, distantly registered the man’s anxiety. He gave his name and slowly moved to pull out his credentials. Hotch tried to answer his questions but all he could remember was Morgan getting shot by Mr. Scratch. Or did he shoot him? His words veered into incoherence and the officer became alarmed. If he hadn’t seen the man’s badge, he’d have a hard time believing this was BAU Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner.

“Sir? Were you injured? I think you need to get checked by the medics,” he said. He took Hotch’s gun from him and steered him in the direction of the ambulance. Hotch didn’t mind him taking the gun, what good was it? His gun couldn’t protect him from the phantom tearing through his life, destroying everything that was good. He doubted a medic could help either.

Hotch was sitting on the bumper of an ambulance, continuing to ruminate when Dave arrived. The medic, after determining there was no physical injury to the man, left him there with instructions to stay put until someone came for him. Hotch hadn’t thought about who was listed as his emergency contact.

“Aaron! What happened?”

Hotch looked at him with wild eyes. He was terrified for Dave, certain now that this was the dream come true. Peter Lewis had gotten inside not only his mind but his life and was ripping the pieces apart slowly.

“Dave you can’t be here! You have to go,” he stood up and put his hands on Rossi’s chest, as if to push him away. Dave grabbed his wrists, eyebrows drawn together, confused by this reaction. Hotch curled his hands into fists and ducked his head. “Please,” he begged, “please Dave, it’s not safe.”

“Aaron, look at me.” Anticipating a bad reaction but doing it anyway, Rossi took hold of his face with both hands and forced the other man to meet his eyes. “What is going on?”

But Hotch was past reason by this point. The words he got out didn’t make sense to Rossi who only heard snippets about coffins and blood and Scratch—but that case was months ago, surely this was unrelated. He didn’t like to think that Hotch had been hiding something about that night for this long but he wouldn’t be surprised by it either. He thought about how Hotch’s confusion had lingered long after the doctors said the drugs’ effects should have worn off. How he had stopped asking for confirmation of details from that night yet he would occasionally lose focus, be half a step behind in conversation.

Rossi looked quickly over at the house, now swarming with officials, drawn to the crime scene like summer moths to lamps. He wasn’t needed here and Hotch very much needed to be somewhere else right now. Dave didn’t know what was happening in his friend’s mind but he knew the chaos of the scene around them wasn’t helping. He waved over an EMT to inform them he would be taking Agent Hotchner home, would ensure his safety. The medic gave no argument, there was nothing wrong with the man that they could see, only that he might be in some sort of shock over finding his colleague’s body. There was no reason for him to be their responsibility, they were happy enough to let someone else take over.

Rossi managed to lead Hotch back to the SUV, even more concerned by the fact that he didn’t resist being guided by a hand on his back. Didn’t try to shrug off the outward expression of concern. If Aaron was too distracted to notice physical contact, something was urgently wrong. Dave thought about this as he opened the door and gently pushed the other man into the passenger seat, giving non-committal responses to Hotch’s continued warnings that he needed to get away, that he needed to get everyone away.

“Put on your seatbelt,” he instructed after getting in himself and seeing it was still undone. Hotch stared at him blankly and he had to actually reach across and grab the restraint for him. Thought it bruised his heart, Dave ignored the way Aaron recoiled from his sudden nearness. He hated to see this side of Hotch, it reminded him how hard the man must work all the time to suppress his reactions, how much effort he went through to hide parts of himself he deemed unacceptable.

He straightened up and secured his own seatbelt before turning the key. He paused, not sure where to take them. Hotch was quiet now, seeming to be lost in the lights that danced across the front of Derek’s house. Dave decided to call Garcia, to update her and see if she had any updates for him. He had rushed from the office after receiving a call from a worried officer about one Agent Hotchner found disoriented at a crime scene. There had been little time to share details. Dave tried not to think about how he was using the term “crime scene” to describe Morgan’s home.

Rossi put his phone on speaker as he shifted into drive. He decided the first stop should be to Aaron’s apartment to check on Jack and see if he could get the man to calm down enough to make some sense. As soon as Garcia answered, he regretted calling her. She was in a panic, news of what had been found had reached her. Normally able to work, even through big emotions, this was all too much for Penelope. She was nearly as incoherent as Hotch was when he’d found him.

“Okay, okay, listen Penelope. I’ve got Hotch, I’m taking him home. Why don’t you call Emily? She’s supposed to have landed by now I think,” Dave was trying his best to stay patient. Honestly, he didn’t know what any of them should do but this manageable instruction seemed to calm Garcia a little.

She sniffled. “Emily, right, of course. I’ll call her right now, sir.”

“Great, thank you Penelope. Let’s just try to stay focused on getting everyone safe. I’ll call you when we get to Hotch’s place.”

“H-how is he? How are you?”

Dave looked over at Hotch who was still quietly brooding. Rossi could almost hear Hotch’s thoughts racing, trying to find a way to get ahead of whatever was happening. It was actually encouraging, he seemed more lucid than before. Dave opened his mouth to tell Garcia everything with them was alright for the moment. But that was the moment a truck slammed into the driver’s side door, sending the SUV spinning wildly through the intersection.

~Part 4~

[etherealdizzle]

DBD Danny x Julie

Hello!

I would love to read someone else’s take on the pairing Julie Kostenko/Danny “Jed Olson“ Johnson alias The Ghost Face.

Trigger Warnings: Violence, Death, Murder

When Julie had met Frank, she thought she had found her soulmate. They had thought so much alike. They seemed to know exactly what each other wanted. But as time passed, the Entity brought her clarity. Frank wasn’t her soulmate. He talked fancy and at times he seemed smart, but she felt like he was never enough. He never pushed the limits. He inspired the group to vandalize, to steal, to do as he commanded. But he hesitated when Julie talked murder.

Now, he did as the Entity commanded. He wasn’t the leader anymore. Joey had teased Frank one time, calling him “the Entity’s bitch.” To which he responded, “We’re all the Entity’s bitch now, dumbass.”

But Julie felt different. She felt like she could be more. More than just some kid with high aspirations for violence. She wanted to murder and throw it in people’s faces. To prove to the Entity - and herself - that she was strong and that she was hellfire.

That’s what drew her outside her gang in the first place. The other killers were examples of fury and hatred that she craved. She talked to all of them, over and over again. Begging them to tell her what drove them to do what they did. Many answers were disappointing. Most became killers of trauma, inflicting the pain they felt inside. That wasn’t what she wanted. She wasn’t traumatized. She was never hurt. She wanted to kill simply because she felt an urge for it. Plain and simple.

The Doctor felt the same way. She tried talking to him, but… Can he even talk? All he did was laugh and if she got too close she would feel a shock, even if he didn’t touch her. Some killers understood what she wanted. The Wraith was the first to actually help her. He guided her, pointing to a man in a costume. Before she could ask Philip who the guy was, the Wraith was gone. So much for that, she thought.

She walked up to the man, trying to understand what exactly he was. His back was to her. He was in all black, pieces of fabric seeming to float in the air around him. She tapped the back of his shoulder. He didn’t move. “Uh… hello?” She asked. Nothing. She tapped him again, to which he finally snapped up his face. A white mask greeted her, scaring her. When was the last time she got scared, she wondered. She yelped and jumped back.

The man laughed, muffled slightly by his mask. She frowned, though he couldn’t see due to her own mask, and huffed. “Jackass!” If it had been one of her friends, she would’ve smacked him on his head. But she didn’t want to piss this guy off. He kind of creeped her out.

“Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t help it.” He shrugged, turning back the other way around. He was holding something. Smiling at it.

Curiosity took over Julie and she spoke up. “What are you looking at?” She asked, trying to see. The man looked up again. Maybe if she could see him she would know what he was thinking.

He leaned towards her, allowing her a view. He was holding a camera, looking through the photos. Most of them were selfies, him doing a peace sign at the camera during the trials. But he stopped on one. Julie recognized the person in it. Meg, her face bruised, mouth pouring blood as she looked dazily at the camera. The man was holding up her head, taking a selfie with the both of them. The guy looked to Julie for a moment, then back at the camera. He flipped to another picture. This time, David was propped up against a wall. Again, a selfie with the two of them as the killer held the bunny ears to David. Julie let out a laugh, amused by the picture. She loved the carefree and mocking attitude this guy had. The Wraith had definitely pointed her to the right guy.

The man chuckled with her, looking at her again. She looked at him as well. Even though they couldn’t see each other, both of them could feel the connection. The man glanced at his camera, scrolling through pictures until he found one. A selfie of him posing at Ormond. The text behind him read The Legion. “That’s you, right?” He questioned, putting his camera away once she looked at it.

“Yeah,” She nodded, “Me and my friends. Frank, Joey, Susie. ” She smiled, though he couldn’t see it.

“Danny Johnson. Or Jed Olsen.” He replied. Julie cocked her head, confused. He chuckled. “Some just call me Ghostface.”

“I’ll just call you Danny. Why so many names?”

“Jed Olsen is my alias. Ghostface is what the press called me.”

Julie was fascinated. “How many victims did you have before they called you that?”

Danny liked her. He liked her curiosity and genuine interest in him. “Dozens. They only called me that once I - Jed Olsen- showed them a video of the Ghostface.”

Julie really liked that. She chuckled. “That’s awesome! How did they-”

Danny shook his head. “I wanna know about you, too.”

Julie felt a warmth rise to her face. “O-oh. Well, what do you wanna know?”

“Your name, perhaps?”

☆ ☆ ☆

As time passed, Julie and Danny got closer. The two shared interests. Not in the same way Frank and Julie had, but even better. They understood each other. To know what it was like to feel the urge to murder just because. To mock, to make the world your bitch. Julie admired Danny. She felt close to him. But she didn’t know if he felt the same.

Julie waited for Danny to get done with his trial. She sat on a log, tapping her foot anxiously as she bit her lip. Seconds felt like hours. She looked up at the stars, trying to calm herself. Trying to figure out exactly what to say.

She didn’t even notice when he sat down next to her. “Hey.” Was all he said, but Julie screamed and jumped up. Danny laughed, standing up with her. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry! It’s just too easy!”

“Asswipe!” She insulted and gently slapped the top of his head. She crossed her arms, but her anger was replaced by anxiety within seconds. “Hey… Actually, can we talk?”

Danny cocked his head to the side and nodded. He sat down, waiting for Julie to do the same. Julie sighed and sat down, looking into the mask’s eyes. She couldn’t see his own eyes, but that didn’t really matter.

“We’ve been friends for a while, you know.” She started, immediately looking away. This was going to be way harder than she thought. Ghostface nodded, letting her continue. “I… I just… I don’t even know what you look like.”

Danny paused for a moment. “Do you wanna know?” He sounded… scared, almost. Afraid to show his face. Julie nodded. Danny nodded slowly, taking a moment before he lifted his hands and grabbed his mask, pushing it off of his face.

Julie’s face went red. Danny was handsome. She couldn’t find a single flaw on his face. Danny brushed a hand through his dark hair and even it out, having been messy from the hood. He smiled at her - with perfect, white teeth - and spoke. “Well? Does that make you feel better?”

No! She thought to herself. She felt insecure now. Danny was so much better than she could’ve imagined. She felt inferior to him, ugly. She felt now that she had no chance. There was no way this guy could feel attracted to someone like her.

“Can I see you?” He asked. Of course he would want to see her.

Julie shook her head quickly. “Nuh-uh.” She said, turning away.

Danny placed a hand upon her knee, gripping it gently. “Hey, Julie…” He said softly. She finally found the courage to turn to him. “Please? I won’t force you to, but… Please?” He begged. He even had the puppy dog look down. Fuck.

Julie brought her shaky hands up and took off her mask. She gripped the hood, a little too tightly, and brought it down. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this bare. Her blonde hair fell down to her face, almost covering it.

Danny brought a hand to her face and brushed her hair out of the way, tucking it behind her ear. He scanned her face, saying nothing. Her heart pounded, echoing throughout her entire body. She just wanted this moment to end.

But then Danny came closer, pressing his lips to her own. Her eyes widened for a moment, then fluttered shut. She kissed him back, gently at first, then harder. It felt amazing. Maybe it was the entity, maybe it was the fact that it was Danny, but this kiss was the best she ever had. It was intoxicating. She didn’t want to pull away, but eventually he did. Danny smiled at her, kissing her forehead and whispered, “You’re beautiful.”

Julie smiled, hugging him tightly. She had finally found her soulmate.

[phaticserpent]

Assassin of Neverland

(OUAT Peter Pan x Reader)

Warning: you know the drill, smut and language

A/N: just a lil fluff at the end (OC Pan)

Chapter three

You watched as the Lost Boys danced around the fire at the pirate’s death and your arrival. They whooped and you could slowly feel your feet swaying to the rhythm of drumbeats.

“Just wanted to thank you.” A rough voice coughed awkwardly. You turned to look at a tall boy with blonde hair and a scar etched on his cheek from his jaw. “Other than Hook, Bloody Eye has been terrorizing Lost Boys ever since he set foot on Neverland.”

“Happy to be of service. I’m [Y/N].”

“I’m Felix.”

“Nice to meet you, Felix.” You smiled sheepishly. The boy nodded and trudged off back to the group. Abruptly, there were hands placed on your hips and gently guided you away, no doubt about it, it was Peter.

“What are you—“

“I don’t think I gave you enough pleasure for your task.” He whispered into your ear. You hummed as his lips trailed down your neck, kissing sweetly as he pinned you against a tree.

“Pan......”

“Hmmm? You like that?” He asked. Peter guided you through the forest, his lips still exploring your neck and unbuttoning your clothing to continue down your collarbone. Peter had stopped, quickly undressing you. You took this chance to see where you were. The glittering ocean view took your breath away.

“It’s so beautiful here.” You grinned.

“It’s about to be beautiful.” Peter pushed you down onto the soft moss ground. You watched as he pulled off his pants and yours.

“What’s up with you?” You asked with a smirk. He leaned in to kiss you again, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him in as his fingers slipping into you. If he keeps doing this, I’m going to be catching feelings faster than I intended, you thought.

“You deserve more than a few seconds of pleasure.” He answered, pulling away. “Besides, I want you.” Your heart fluttered as his tongue trailed down to where his fingers were. Peter pulled your legs over his shoulders as his tongue dived in. You twitched and grabbed his hair, letting out a startled moan.

“Ah! Peter!” He did something with his hands because you found your arms tied down. Peter moaned and your legs twitched at the sensation. “O-oh! Stop.......t-teasing!” He chuckled and you gasped, your grip tightening on the ropes. You attempted to suppress your moans, but ended up letting out something else.

“Mmmm, fuck, the sounds you make.” Peter smirked. His eyes trailed down your body due to your position. “But this sight......your legs spread.....you looking like an absolute feast.” He growled.

“I was so close!” You threw your head back. Peter chuckled as he climbed back to your neck and chest. He tilted your chin to face him as he entered you and holding your gaze, you moaned. Peter drew out and thrusted in, constantly moving his hips as he attacked your neck and lips. “Ah! Untie me! P-please!”

“Mmm, no.” Peter grinned, biting your neck. “The way your chest bounces against mine......turns me on.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Oh but I like it.” He chuckled. “You’re still so tight.” He moaned, grabbing your hips he pounded into you. You wailed and felt your body drag along the moss, the ropes tightening around your wrists.

“Ah! F-fuck!” You huffed.

“Love the view.” He rolled into a new spot, earning a gasp from you.

“I-I’m going to c-cum!” You cried. Peter shuddered as your orgasm hit, his following right after. You expected him to stop but Peter kept on pounding into you. “Ah! W-wait! What are you doing?”

“Pleasuring you....thought we covered that, love.”

“We did.....but our moments don’t last this long.”

“Thought you deserved more.” Peter chuckled as he kissed your stomach. “Love your abs.” His fingers traced the scars on your skin. You and Peter continued on until the sun had lowered drastically and the forest darkened, by then, you had orgasmed a dozen times. Fully clothed, you and Peter sat on the shore, watching the sun set.

“This place is beautiful.” You let out a deep breath.

“That reminds me, I never gave you a proper tour.” Peter realized as he quickly stood.

“Yeah, you only gave me a tour of your bed.”

“Which is why, now is a good time.” Peter held out his hand. You chuckled and took his hand, he pulled you up onto your feet and guided you through the forest. “We’re near Mermaid Lagoon.” They reaches an opening, by this time, the sun has set, but you could easily see glowing tails in the dark ocean. Peter opened his mouth but you could already guess what he was about to say.

“I know, don’t get too close or they’ll drown you.”

“Know a thing or two about mermaids, love?”

“Please, I’ve had to assassinate a few cross worlds and was a stowaway on a pirate ship. Once.”

“And you were never caught?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Sly.” He smirked. “That’s what I like about you, only visible to those when you want to be.” You watched, mesmerized by the glowing tails growing closer.

“Who’s this?” A sweet angelic voice tuned in. “She’s pretty!”

“She is!” Another voice chirped. Pan chuckled as he guided you somewhere else.

“See that across?” He pointed to a cavelike island across Mermaid Lagoon. “That’s Skull Rock.”

“Wow, a giant skull, it’s beautiful!” You chuckled. Pan slipped a hand around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Isn’t it?”

“What else does this island have?” You grinned, as you turned to face him with arms wrapped around his neck.

“Beautiful sunsets but I think you are the most beautiful on this island now.”

“Smooth.”

“I want to take you to the Echo Caves.” He mentioned. “It’s a place where you reveal your darkest secrets, I want to know who you are.”

“I’m an assassin, the only secrets I have are of killing people.”

“Mm, that’s what everyone says.” Peter grinned. “Come on, love. It’s a long walk so we’ll fly there.”

“Fly?”

“Hold on tight.” He smirked as both of you soared into the air.

“Holy shit!”

“I expected an assassin to be acquainted with heights. Don’t you leap off of buildings?”

“You unexpectedly ascended into the air! I’m sorry, should I be kissing you?”

“Kissing would be nice.”

“Oh shut up.” You laughed. Eventually, Peter landed in front of a cave. “That it?”

“Yeah. The Echo Cave, come on!” He led you inside, it was hollow and bigger than you imagined. You walked closer to the ledge and peered down, letting out a low ‘woah’ before joining Peter’s side. “I’m going to fly to the other side.”

“What?”

“Come save me, love.”

“So all I have to say is my darkest secret?”

“Yup.” Peter sat on the rock across from you, so you sighed and sat down, unsure how everything worked.

“My parents are royalty, which makes me a princess and they wanted me to marry this prince. He was on his way to our wedding, when he was killed. The King was devastated and so were my parents, I was both relieved and miserable. His death was what made me into an assassin, trying to find who his killer is. My parents didn’t know what I was doing and where word spread fo a rogue assassin, they never expected it was their innocent daughter. I was kicked out of my home and my throne was stripped down.” You explained. The entire cave shook as the rock Peter sat on extended itself out to you. “Woah.”

“Princess [Y/N].” He repeated which sent shivers down your spine.

“You remember the ‘first time’ I told you about?” He nodded. “My fifth assassination was for a king, he wanted his rivaling kingdom’s royalties all killed. I carried out my orders, slaughtered his children and wife and tried to poison the king, who found out. The knights all found a way to capture me.....the king raped me.” The cave shook again and the bridge extended a few inches.

“Is he dead?” Peter growled.

“Yeah. I sliced his throat.”

“Last secret, love.”

“Before I came to Neverland, someone wanted me to kill my friend. I didn’t kill them and lied that I did to the person that set me up.” The bridge connected to you and you made your way to Peter.

“Come to save me, princess?” He smirked. You lifted him up, bridal style. “Oh? That’s sexy.”

“You’re cute.”

“I know.” Peter smirked. You walked out of the cave with him in your arms, chuckling as Peter kissed your cheek. “Your smile is beautiful.”

“You need to properly introduce me to the Lost Boys, I only know Felix, he talked to me before you pulled me away.”

“Okay, tomorrow I’ll introduce you to them. But I want you all to myself.”

“Whatever the prince says.”

[yodawgiherd]

Worship Your Goddess

Rating: E

>>>Read on AO3<<<¨

I worked on this monstrosity for about a week, but here it is. A long-ass chapter full of dom Mikasa and sub Eren, if that floats your boat, I think that you will be satisfied. I know I was. If you don't, feel free to skip it, there's no plot. Just porn. Honest.

Enjoy!

Imagine a scene in your head.

There’s a room, dimly lit, the darkness pushed back by low lights. A black leather sofa dominates the center, a massive luxurious piece of furniture chosen by someone of means and a good taste. There are also other objects, but they don’t matter. Forgotten, for now.

Saying that the sofa itself is the center of the said picture might have been a bit premature, now that the image sharpens. With more clarity added, it's obvious who is the true master, or rather mistress, of this scene. An Asian woman in heavily goth clothes and dark makeup on her face. Any attention in this room is trained right at her, she’s pulling it in like a black hole, her influence cannot be denied. The dominatrix is sitting on the sofa, relaxing into its soft hug. Pale skinned, she’s dressed exclusively in black, a color that matches her short raven hair and dark lips. She’s wearing a black dress of an unusual design with translucent parts around her neck and arms. It’s tight on the top but flowing into a short skirt, ending in the upper part of the woman’s thighs. The edge of the skirt rests just at the right point, giving way to her pale legs partly hidden by fishnet stockings. Not much of her skin can be seen, however, as it dips beneath the black leather of the massive leather boots that reach all the way up to the woman’s knees.  

Her choice of jewelry matches her clothes. There are multiple necklaces around her elegant throat, adorned in the middle by a thick leather choker with small silver studs. The light catches on her ears, pierced both at the top and the bottom, shiny silver circles placed there, except for a singular pair of crosses, hanging from the customary place of earrings. Her midnight lips are curled up into a small smile, pale cheeks flushed a little bit, almond-shaped grey eyes sitting in the middle of dark shadows watching something. Her gaze is intense, loving, but harsh at the same time, mixing those emotions well. Following her eyes, it’s easy to locate the thing of her interest.

A man is kneeling next to her, her pet, her slave for the night. Posture perfectly straight, hands clasped behind his back, he’s still as a statue, awaiting orders from his mistress. He’s physically very strong, tall and broad-shouldered, yet completely powerless in the hands of his mistress. Shirtless as he is, the well-defined muscles of his upper half are fully on display, glistening with sweat. The lack of a shirt also shows some damage. There are scratches on his tanned skin, red angry lines left behind by merciless nails. The area around the man’s nipples received the most attention, littered by bitemarks. The imprints of teeth are almost everywhere as if the kneeling man was attacked by a ferocious beast, one that wanted to cover as much of him as it could. There’s also something on his neck, partly covered by his long brown hair, hanging freely, but it’s still visible. A collar, tight around his throat, black leather with letters in front, proof of ownership. Whoever this man was, he belonged to the dark goddess sitting next to him, watching her slave with great interest.

That’s the image, and nothing else matters. He’s here, kneeling at her feet, completely under her spell. She’s here, in control, the center of the universe. And the world is standing still until she decides for it to move.

Reaching out, the goth mistress runs her fingers tenderly over the man’s cheek, reddened by repeated slaps. Her black fingernails are gentle for a change, not scratching, simply touching, the light shining on the many rings which are decorating her hand. A touch, nothing more, but it’s enough to make his whole body shake in anticipation, his breathing quickening for a second. The gentle caress is unexpected, after such harsh punishment, his cheek still stings from how hard she slapped him. It was deserved, for sure, one shouldn’t talk back to his mistress. Although her weight was hard to bear, when she was standing on him, it was entirely her right to do it.

The caressing hand moved, and now she was petting him, like a dog, a good boy that took his punishment well. The mistress loves her pet, after all, it makes her happy when he’s obedient. And it is high time that he proves himself useful, he can do more than kneel at her feet and look pretty. The touch disappearing as it appeared, the woman sits back, extending her leg in a silent invitation. Immediately, the kneeling one reaches out, takes a hold of her elegant limb, waits for an order. He’s cradling her beautiful leg as if she was made of glass, gentle and perhaps even loving, eyes moving over the black leather and stocking covered pale skin. Satisfied with his obedience, seeing that he knows exactly what she wants him to do, a single word leaves her lips.

And the world begins to move again.

 Eren followed Mikasa’s wish to the letter. Trailing kisses all the way from the toe of the boot and up, he made sure not to cross any boundary and didn’t move past the upper edge at her knee. He would have to earn the privilege of putting his filthy mouth on her porcelain skin. His mistress was pleased with his obedience, nodding.

“Good boy.”, she said in a low voice, making him shiver.

To continue pleasing her, as that was Eren’s sole purpose for being right now, he licked a broad stripe on the black leather, leaving behind a shiny trail. Gently as humanly possible, he turned Mikasa’s leg, getting access to the other side of the boot. He couldn’t leave out anything, could he. His breath was coming out in short huffs now, excitement taking over. Eren wanted to be good for his mistress, wanted to serve, the little encouraging words leaving Mikasa’s midnight lips gave him physical pleasure. Mouthing the toe of the boot, then moving back up to trail each one of the numerous buckles with the tip of his tongue. Once again finding himself at the top, he used the zipper to guide him back down, down where he belonged. The only small complaint he had was that Mikasa’s choice of footwear for the day didn’t have those killer high heels, as most of her dominatrix boots did. It was always fun to have them in his mouth, suck on them, let Mikasa ravage his mouth as much as she wanted. Well, there’s always next time.

This small setback did little to ruin his mood, however, as having Mikasa’s black leather-clad leg in his hands felt amazing anyway. The nigh endless row of black underneath his tongue, cool leather that felt great even when he rubbed his cheek against it, lightly nuzzling the boot. Following the shape of her leg, Eren traced his mouth down, once again turning it, this time on the other side, to get better access. Dragging his tongue over the back of her long limb, moving his head so he can kiss the bottom of the boot, not leaving even the thick sole out of his worshipping duties, his every movement observed by his generous owner, granting him all the fun he could ask for. On his own, Eren could easily spend hours here. In his subspace mindset, he would worship Mikasa’s boots as long as she would want him to, everything he did was tied to the words of the raven dominatrix.

Tugging her leg from his grasp, Mikasa chuckled at the face Eren made. Despite his swollen lips and reddened cheeks, he looked as if she took his favorite toy from him. Not for long though, as she raised her other leg, prompting her pet to shuffle forward on his knees and once again slide his hands over it. Bending her knee, straightening her leg, Eren put his mouth to work. Kissing, licking, worshipping her boot same as the one before, Eren repeated the patterns diligently. Leaving long, broad trails of spit over her shoe, shining the black leather with his tongue, the feeling of excitement building in his chest. It was getting too much to bear, honestly, he was being granted way too much. The cage on his cock prevented any sort of serious erection, but his hips were left unchecked. Without any conscious control, they began to move, snapping up and down, the familiar dance that they both knew intimately. But it was too soon for that, he didn’t get permission from his mistress, and Mikasa wasn’t pleased by seeing this sign of disobedience. Her pet could only move when she allowed him to. To shut down his movements, Mikasa placed the foot that Eren wasn’t diligently kissing against his crotch, pressing hard. Eren hissed, eyes fluttering shut as the muscles of his neck bulged.

“Getting this worked up from kissing my boots?”, Mikasa clicked her tongue, shaking her head, “You’re such a dirty slut.”

“Yes…”, Eren’s words were almost pained,  “For you, mistress, only for you.”

Good response, but that didn’t excuse his lack of obedience.

“Still, puppy.”, grinding her leg harder against him, it forced a loud groan from Eren’s mouth, “No moving.”

“Apologies, mistress.”, he gritted through clenched teeth, face bathed in sweat, “Won’t happen again.”

Satisfied, Mikasa lessened the pressure but kept the foot pressed against his caged cock, a heavy reminder. Resuming the worship of his mistress’ knee-high boots, Eren kissed his way down, dragged his tongue over the bottom, turning her leg to make every part of the black leather shine. Devoted, submissive, fully in her control, Eren couldn’t be more of a dutiful pet. He was Mikasa’s good boy, a pretty slave that would fulfill any and all of her wishes. And she had plenty of those.

Freeing her leg from his hands, Mikasa set both of her feet back on the floor, casting an inspecting eye over her shoes. Perfectly shined, properly worshipped boots, there was nothing she could criticize about the work Eren’s mouth and tongue did. Which qualified those to be used in a more intimate matter, one that Mikasa was craving already. To say that watching Eren kiss her shoes made her wet between the legs would be an understatement.

“Good work, puppy.”, a little praise, well deserved, “Now take them off.”

Hands flying to obey her, Eren undid the buckles one by one, using his mouth as much as his fingers. He knew that Mikasa liked it when he turned even such an activity as taking off her boots into another worship. Buckles open, he caught the zipper between his teeth, slowly dragging it down. It took some time, to move from Mikasa’s knee to her foot, her legs were long, after all, and he didn’t rush anywhere. After taking care of her other shoe the same way, Mikasa was finally barefoot, her legs now only clad in those sexy fishnet stockings. The contrast between the black lines and the pale skin was great to look at, and Eren was anxious to put his mouth back to work. Kneeling in front of his mistress, staring at her, his hands automatically moved back behind his back, back straightening. It was a pose Mikasa liked her pet to be in, and he would obey her.

Raising her legs, both at the same time, Mikasa smirked when she saw how hungrily he eyed her feet. Well, it was time to grant him some reward. Putting her feet right on Eren’s face, Mikasa dragged them across, left and right, loving how agitated his breathing became. Over his swollen lips, over red cheeks, over the smooth, recently shaved skin. Inhaling through the nose, letting the air leave his mouth in short puffs, he was still as a statue, even when her feet smothered his face, roaming anywhere she wanted them to. Pressing her toes against his lips, Mikasa didn’t have to say a word for Eren’s mouth to obediently drop open, letting her in.

“Suck.”, an order.

Prompted by her, he closed his mouth, sucking at her toes with undeniable vigor. It took all of Eren’s self-control to prevent his hips from moving again. Mikasa had sexy feet and having one pressed against his face and one in his mouth was certainly arousing, no denying that.

“I want you to kiss every inch of my legs,”, she said, smirking, the image of a smug domme, “Can you do that for me, pretty boy?”

With her foot still in his mouth, Eren nodded rapidly. Pulling the cute black painted toes from between his lips, Mikasa angled her foot differently, what she wanted rather clear. Sticking out his tongue, Eren licked the bottom of it, earning a sweet giggle from his mistress. It tickled a bit. Permitted to use his hands by a single nod, he took a hold of the leg dangling in front of his face, lowering his face to press a kiss to the instep. Pressing his thumbs into the bottom of her foot, lips kissing the front, Eren reminded himself that Mikasa wanted a foot massage, so moving his fingers in a soothing circular rhythm, he began. That’s why she allowed him the use of his hands, he realized. Massaging was always an intimate activity, and Eren loved doing it for multiple reasons. First, squeezing some massage oil onto her skin and kneading it, hearing her moan as he eased the stiffness out of her muscles felt great. Second, Mikasa often rewarded him for helping her like this, and as she was usually naked for those massages, the rewards were of an intimate character too.

Combining his mouth and hands, Eren did his best to deliver quality foot worship to his mistress, massaging her, using the spit left behind by his tongue instead of oil. He did a quality job, judging from how she melted into the sofa, soft sounds leaving her black-painted lips. Mikasa was in small heaven, shifting her position to be as comfortable as she could. She didn’t even have to hold her leg up, Eren did that for her, spreading kisses all over the stocking covered foot. The other one found its resting place between his spread legs, returning the controlling weight back against his cock. Maybe he was servicing her, but that didn’t mean he got to disobey the rules. No moving meant no moving.

The activity was certainly similar to the boot worship, although the surface underneath his tongue was pale white, not black. The stocking also created little bumps in his path, unlike the completely smooth leather surface of the shoe. Not counting the buckles, of course. Other than that, however, Eren was exactly as dutiful as before. No part of Mikasa’s leg could be left out. The arch of her foot, sides, the instep, the back. The gentle bump of her ankle and up, Eren mouthed her calf, feeling the muscles there shift beneath his lips. She sighed beautifully when he kissed his way up to her knee, pressing his tongue against the bone, the foot on his crotch shifting a bit. Mikasa was certainly enjoying this. Reaching her thigh, the powerful yet elegant part that was strong enough to choke the life out of him yet so smooth beneath his tongue, Eren could smell Mikasa’s arousal from how close he was. He could also see the upper part where the little fat that was on her otherwise firm leg was pushed up by the stocking, the place where dreams were born. Using the upper lace of her stocking as a border, Eren didn’t cross it, moving his mouth around the inner side but not breaching into that bountiful land of that area between her legs. Yet. From the glimpse he caught, however, the black lace of her panties was positively drenched at this point.

“Good boy, so good…”, Mikasa practically moaned out those words, eyes half-lidded, “Now do the other…”

Not letting go of her leg, Eren placed it between his spread ones before taking a hold of the till now resting foot. Holding her calf, Eren placed her toes into his mouth, an action that Mikasa appreciated with a hum. Nothing wrong with indulging your little kink, especially when she enjoys it so much. The worship of her leg was accompanied by Mikasa’s other foot impatiently tapping against his crotch, little moans and shudders as she was slowly growing restless, the journey of Eren’s mouth all over her elegant limb arousing as hell. Dragging her foot against his face, she bit her bottom lip, already imagining how that clever tongue will feel buried deep inside her. Eren’s talented mouth felt great against her legs, sure, but having him service her pussy always felt that much better. And it was high time to get him there. Putting her feet back on the floor, Mikasa braced herself as she reached out next to her, retrieving something.

Pulling a leash out of nowhere, Mikasa clipped it into Eren’s collar, yanking at it after to get his attention. Spit slick red skin, unfocused eyes with blown-out pupils, swollen lips, all that together made her slave’s ruined face. And she was far from being finished with her puppy, his mouth would serve his insatiable Asian dominatrix. But she was far too turned on right now, needed a little break, let out a bit of steam, so gracefully bowing down to his kneeling height, Mikasa brutally claimed Eren’s mouth in a deep kiss. His hands were once again clasped at his back, no longer having a purpose, so all he could do was brace himself against her assault. Her tongue sliding against his, hot and heavy, teeth sinking into his reddened lips, she abused him, abused how pliant her puppy was. Again and again, she sucked out those little moans from him, like a vampire feeding on his essence. The kiss was completely one-sided, Eren was only moving with her but never on his own, his mouth was Mikasa’s playground. When she pulled back, their lips were connected by saliva, but that was ignored by them both. The moment was way too hot to be interrupted.

“You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?”, Mikasa’s eyes were almost feverish as she stared at him, “You think you are the only one who couldn’t wait?”

Eren wasn’t sure how to respond, especially when she pulled so hard on the leash that it made him choke. The hand that wasn’t holding the leather strap gripped a fistful of Eren’s hair, yanking it back, forcing him to look right into her eyes.

“Tonight, you are mine to use, all of you.”, letting go of his scalp, Mikasa’s fingers trailed down his cheeks, his lips, dipping into his mouth. She traced his gums, his teeth, slid the tips across his tongue, fingerfucked his mouth, the fire between her legs growing hotter.

“Your mouth is mine, your tongue is mine, your pretty face is mine…”

She took a shuddering breath.

“And I’ll use you, oh yes… I’ll make you eat me out and ride your face until I’m totally satisfied. Oh, and puppy,”, she leaned closer, whispering into his ear.

“I’m not easily satisfied.”

Tugging at the leash, she forced his face right between her spread legs, burying his nose into her panties. Oh, she was wet, Eren could smell her arousal and the lace was damp against his skin. Having her legs worshipped always got Mikasa going, she loved Eren kissing her feet.

“Take them off,”, she ordered, “Slowly….”

As Eren wasn’t allowed to use his hands, he smartly decided to use his teeth instead. Dragging the wet cloth down her legs, passing all those places he worshipped with his mouth before and past until they were gone, Mikasa’s glistening slit was now fully on display underneath the skirt of her dress. Closer and closer still, Eren placed a string of kisses on Mikasa’s inner thighs, finally reaching the skin not covered by the stockings. Gentle kisses, rough kisses, he spread them everywhere, slowly but surely moving towards that one place. Oh, but a pet shouldn’t make his mistress wait.

“You’ll eat me out.”, she ordered, “Lick my pussy while that cage is still on your cock.”

The cruel smile was back in full force.

“I want your tongue buried deep inside me, I want your mouth fully servicing my cunt while your own pleasure is negated by those steel bars.”, pulling the key from the collection around her neck, Mikasa made sure that it’s visible, resting at the top, “I want you to look at the key while you are serving me, want you to know that any pleasure you can ever get is fully in my power. Mine, same as you are, pet.”

With that, the goth pulled him by the leash again, spreading her legs wide, forcing Eren’s mouth to grind against her heat, nose bumping against her pubic bone. Moaning, hips moving into his face, Mikasa’s eyes fluttered open and close, all the buildup finally getting some satisfaction. Guiding her slave’s mouth by the leash, she was in charge, there was no denying that. If the collar wasn’t enough, there was the cage on his cock and that key that was shining at her neck, unquestionable proof of ownership. But Eren was more than willing to play his part, to be a good boy for his mistress, a faithful pet.

Directed by her, Eren used his tongue to lick at her first, getting Mikasa’s unique taste into his mouth. Collecting the wetness with the tip of his tongue, he traced the shape of her lower lips, spreading it everywhere. Her arousal combined with his spit, allowing Eren’s mouth to effortlessly glide around, finding its tempo and place. When she yanked on the leash harder, he knew that this was the sign that she wanted more. So he gave it to her. Mouthing her slit, Eren pushed his tongue past her slick entrance, eating his mistress out. It was one thing to suck her toes, it was one other to suck on her clit. Both quite pleasing activities, but having her nub teased out from behind its hood by his skilled tongue, having his lips seal around it and suck, that made her moan out loud, her cunt quivering as her pet just successfully pushed the goth girl over into her first orgasm for the night. It came fast, but Mikasa was not surprised to climax this early. She was so turned on by Eren’s mouth on her boots and legs, having her toes in his mouth gave her incredible pleasure. Eren built her up by worshipping her legs, and now it was easy to make her fall by putting his tongue to work at her sex.

Hips moving, she rode it out on his face, those moans rising in pitch. She was getting everything she wanted while he was completely cut off, eyes flying over to watch that key bounce on Mikasa’s chest in sync with the movements of her hips. Her hand, the one that wasn’t holding his leash, was playing with the key too, Mikasa knew exactly what she was doing. Watch me, said her movements, watch me cum while I hold the key to your pleasure in my hand. Watch as I ride your face, as I use you for my pleasure while you get nothing, fucktoy. He was locked, in her power, under her command. And fuck, it felt amazing to be hers.

Patient, deep in subspace yet present. She was holding the key and the leash at the same time. She owned him. If Mikasa wanted to have Eren eat her out for the whole night, if she wanted to keep his cock caged for the whole play, only abusing his mouth, he would obey. There was that clarity in submission, in giving yourself over to the dom. The pet would serve his goddess, would do anything she wanted him to do without complaining, and that feeling of her grinding against his face, hearing her pleasure moans, that was enough of a reward. Eren achieved all this without using his hands, made her cum with those still clasped behind his back, and Mikasa was insatiable. She wanted all of him to serve her.

“Fin-Fingers... B-Baby I…”, she choked on her words for a second, her climax still going strong, “Ne-Need your ha-hands…”

She wanted to cum again, wanted Eren to bridge her orgasm right into the next one, wanted to stay on her high. Moving to serve, he quickly wet his fingers before pressing two into her opening, adding a third one when he felt how wet she was, how eagerly her cunt stretched around him. Lapping at her clit at the same time, lashing that sensitive bud with his tongue, Eren curved his fingers up, knowing from experience where that one place was, the one that made his mistress go crazy. Finding it and pressing, massaging her insides expertly, he achieved exactly what she wanted from him. Her thighs, already wrapped around his head, her stockinged feet slid across his back, control of her body slipping away from her. The second climax wrecked through her body before it got the chance to calm down, making her cry out, body arching on the sofa. With his cock straining against the tight confines of its prison, with Mikasa screaming out her pleasure out loud, the key mocking him from the chain around her neck, this was certainly a test of Eren’s devotion to his dark goddess.

A wave of wetness hit Eren’s face, informing him of a job well done. He was a very good orgasm slave for his owner, it would seem. He also knew that Mikasa liked being caressed and gently licked through her finish, didn’t want him to pull back immediately, so he eased her through the peak. When Mikasa’s slim grey eyes opened, tears leaking from the corners as proof of how intensive her experience was. Eren was once again kneeling at her feet, waiting. Reaching out, she ruffled his hair playfully, a smirk on her mouth.

“You’re a wonderful pet, Eren.”, she sighed, feeling happy and satisfied for the moment, “I love you like this.”

“Thank you.”, turning his head slightly, he pressed a kiss against her wrist, against the tattoo there, “You’re too kind, mistress.”

So kind that she kept him locked, not even bothering to hide the key, leaving it out on display. But letting Eren’s cock free or not was her decision, it belonged to her anyway, the proof written on the ring he wore around the base of his bound pride. All he could do was wait.

“I know, I know… I even have a surprise for you.”, her voice turned from soft to hard again, snapping, “Watch me.”

And he did. His eyes were glued to her as she stood up on shaky legs, reaching behind herself to unzip her dress. With a twist, a sexy shake of her hips, Mikasa made the black cloth slide down her body, revealing more and more of that smooth pale skin Eren adored. But there was something else too, something that he had no idea how it got there. A black leather harness. When did Mikasa put it on? Eren watched her dress, all the way from her stockings to the moment when she zipped up her boots, but he didn’t remember her putting this on. Oh, she must have done it in that short moment when Mikasa told him to wait outside, that she needs to use the bathroom real quick. This meant that all this time, their whole day out, it was there, hidden beneath the dress, hugging her firm curves. Black leather belts crossing her pale skin pulled tight enough that they would squeeze her anytime she moved. Mikasa didn’t like the harness much when Eren first showed it to her, wasn’t much sold on the idea, but apparently she learned to like it, putting it on even when the day was hers. It looked very good on her, Eren could say, leather harness combined well with her lacy lingerie, overall creating a rather strange yet somehow amazing set. It was clipped into her choker at the top, the strap hidden beneath her necklaces, framed her perky breasts, for now covered by the lace of her bra, went by her fit stomach with those defined abs to hug her sharp hips and continued even lower, following the V shape of her inner thighs. It made the curves of her body stand out amazingly, making the whole image even more alluring than it normally was.

Maybe the harness was originally meant for a submissive, but Mikasa effortlessly pulled it off as a domme, using the leather belts as a stylish fashion choice. It surely made their day out that much more interesting for her too, being squeezed and held by the tight bondage wear out in public must have been arousing as hell. Now Eren was gifted by this sight, for how nicely he ate his mistress out, and it was a reward worth having his face used as a pleasure toy.

“Like what you see?”, she asked, giving him a turnaround view. Eren couldn’t nod fast enough, making her smirk. It was high time to move this somewhere else, she still had grand plans for her puppy.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom.”, with that, Mikasa turned away, tugging at the leash to get her pet to follow her, “We still have a lot of training to do.”

The hard pull made him fall on all fours, forcing him to crawl. Luckily, Mikasa didn’t rush, enjoying her walk with the leashed pet on all fours at her side. Parading him like this, they reached the bedroom together, a mistress and a puppy on their daily walk.

“Now…”, looking down, the dominatrix smiled down at her submissive, at his devoted face, down at her feet, “What am I going to do with you?”

“A-Anything you want.”

“That’s right.”, a sharp intake of breath, “Anything I damn desire.”

Reaching down, she unclipped the leash from Eren’s collar, pointing at the bed.

“Up you go, puppy.”

As he crawled towards the bed, Mikasa sat down to undo the garter belt and finally pull the wet stockings from her feet, discarding them after. Reaching behind her back, she unclasped her bra too, ridding her body of all that unnecessary clothing. The harness was more than enough. Removing her necklaces too, she only kept the key to Eren’s cock cage around her neck alongside the thick choker hugging her throat. She didn’t want to remove that, as it was connected to the harness on her body. That remained too, of course, tight on her body, squeezing her just perfectly anytime she moved. Ready to continue, Mikasa turned back and walked over to where Eren was waiting for her, obediently lying on his back as she told him to.

Mikasa did what he expected and tied him to the bed, using the cuffs in the corners. Ankles and wrists pulled tight, his body was forced into a spread-eagle, but that was not all. Pulling another strap out of somewhere, Mikasa buckled it across his chest, securing him to the bed even tighter. Another one went across his stomach and the last over his upper thighs. They were all pulled very, very tight, forcing his body to dip into the mattress at the sheer strength of his bindings. When she was done, it was obvious what her goal was. Mikasa wanted Eren completely still, unable to move a muscle, and she achieved just that. When their usual cuffs combined with these new belts, he was completely helpless. Even breathing was made a bit more difficult by how strongly the leather bit into his chest, sure to leave a mark behind. Mikasa cast an eye over the bondage, making sure that it was secured, completely immobilizing her victim. Satisfied, she walked over to their adult toybox and grabbed a few things before coming back and climbing on top of Eren, his unfocused eyes following her every move. Seating herself on his stomach, those nicely defined abs, Mikasa focused her attention on the thing between his legs, locked away by no one else but her.

She was not surprised to see that the cage was wet, Eren must have dribbled a lot of precum during their foreplay, but there was no satisfaction to be found for him. Mikasa made sure that he didn’t see what she was doing, facing his crotch rather than his face, made sure that he didn’t even catch a glimpse of the toys she brought. All he could see were her back, snow-white skin and black leather of the harness, the elegant ropes of muscle beneath moving anytime her delicate hands did. Dragging a single black nail across the cockring, secured around the base of Eren’s pride, restricting both the rod and the balls, she could hear him shakily exhale behind her. He probably thought that her touching his crotch was a good thing, that he will finally get something. Oh, if he only knew how wrong he was. Mikasa wanted to do this sooner, to have him eat her out while he would be caged, but Eren’s little deal at the start of the week prevented her from doing so. She meant it when she said that he was not the only one who was desperate. Many times she found herself staring at the key around her neck, knowing what it meant, the fire between her legs making her rub her thighs together. And now that she finally could do it, now that she could ride his face while his pleasure was locked away, she found herself loving it. And Mikasa was always a cruel dominatrix. She wanted more, more of that desperation, and she would get just that. The torture was only beginning.

Picking up the Hitachi wand from her pile of fun, Mikasa turned it on with a dark smile, loving how Eren tensed beneath her. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what was going down. But before he could do anything, before he could beg his mistress to perhaps reconsider, Mikasa put it down, pressing the vibrating head against the cage. Throwing his head back, as that was the only part of his body Eren could move, he let out a loud groan. This was terrible. He was already way past being turned on, his cock was incredibly sensitive, spending such a long time worshipping Mikasa’s perfect legs and velvety pussy does that to a man. And now that fucking cage he spent most of the night cursing shook, the wand vibrations affecting it, making it even more unbearable. The dominatrix was having fun. Letting some spit dribble from her mouth down between his legs for better lubrication, she was surely enjoying herself. Wrapping her fingers around the steel bars, she angled it to the side, pressing the wand against the previously unabused part after. It made Eren curse out loud, whine like an animal. She loved it. Just when he thought that he’s going to go insane. She stopped, looking at his red face over her shoulder.

“Something wrong, puppy?”, the goth temptress asked with that fake sweetness that made her voice threatening.

No, complaining was not the right path here. His cock belonged to her anyway, it was right there, written on the ring. Pets do not talk back unless they want to be punished. Instead of saying words he would soon regret, Eren took a deep breath.

“N-No, mistress.”

She eyes his face for a second before nodding and turning back towards her fun. And the torture began anew. Mikasa was glad that she tied Eren down like that because from how much she was abusing him, he would surely buck beneath her, his body would try to get rid of its tormentor subconsciously. Secured as he was, none of that was allowed to happen. Instead, her fun was accompanied by the tortured sounds falling from his mouth behind her, muttered curses, groans, some weak begging when he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Not like she cared, of course.

“I do wonder just how much cum you built up.”, she speculated out oud, teasing Eren’s swollen balls with the tip of her little finger, “A week in chastity should make a lot, don’t you think?”

“M-Mistress… I….”, a pained sound, “Please…”

She asked him a question, and he had the audacity to ignore it. With a frown, she slapped his balls instead, hard enough to force a loud curse out of him.

“Words, puppy, use them.”

Eren had trouble concentrating, had trouble answering any sort of question with all the blood rushed between his legs, but to prevent further punishment, he did his best.

“I… It will be a lot… You teased me so much.”

“I did, didn’t I.”, she giggled, once again pressing the wand against the cage, “It’s so much fun to watch you squirm.”

And it went on, and on, and it didn’t get better, it got worse. Dripping more spit on his poor cock, she leaned down to lick at his caged pride, the tip of her tongue reaching between the bars to tease him even further. It wasn’t a blowjob, it was more of a teasejob because when Mikasa closed her mouth around the cage and sucked at it, Eren felt like he could die. She had to be careful though. When she used her tongue and pressed the wand against his tip at the same time, from how much the glands swelled it was possible that Eren would just cum from all that stimulation, cage or no cage. Pulling back, giving him a little breather, she looked back at her slave, smirking when she saw how ruined his face was. Oh, but that could be made even better.

“M-Mistress….”, Eren noticed her watching him, his voice coarse and full of pleading, “P-Please… I ca-can’t….”

Well, maybe she could give him an out. He was a good boy, after all.

“I can either continue this,”, she held up the wand, giggling when she saw how Eren fearfully eyed it as if it was not a sex toy but a deadly weapon.

“Or I could sit on your face.”, she proposed the other possibility, “I wouldn’t say no if you offered to eat my ass, puppy.”

Eren’s answer was quick and rather expected.

“You would do me an honor if you placed your perfect butt on my face, mistress, so I could pleasure you with my undeserving mouth.”

Mikasa never heard a more flowery invitation to sit on someone’s face, so putting her magic wand down, for now, she climbed over to where Eren’s head was, carefully positioning her ass right over his waiting mouth. Moving down, she smothered his face, making sure that her butt was at the right place. With how it covered all of his face, Eren’s breathing was reduced to a trickle, both mouth and nose full of Mikasa’s ass, left with nothing but hope that she won’t suffocate him. Then again, there are worse ways to go than being smothered by a beautiful butt. Just as he was losing hope, unable to help himself, tied up as he was, Mikasa lifted herself a bit, allowing sweet air back in. Eren gulped it down, chest heaving, but he wasn’t allowed to breathe for long before she sat down again. Pleasing his mistress was difficult, considering the position and all, her puppy needed some motivation. Changing her seating form, Mikasa straightened her legs, letting them rest on the cock cage, playing with it with her toes. It was nowhere near as bad as the Hitachi wand torture, but it was a warning. Eren should better start using his tongue, or she can very well just go back to her previous fun.

The shift in her position also meant that all her heavy weight was now resting on top of his body, her athletic form difficult to bear. Leaning on Eren’s shoulders to steady herself, Mikasa poked at his cock with her foot, prompting him to finally dart out with his tongue, licking alongside her anus. Despite these hard conditions, he did his best to please her, moving alongside the rim before dipping inside the puckered hole, eating her ass as dutifully as he could. There was also that little problem of being suffocated by Mikasa’s firm butt. Merciful as his mistress was, she lifted her ass from time to time, pausing the smothering in order to let her pet breathe for a few moments before sitting back down. Breathing would be a distraction from serving her anyway, with no air available the only thing Eren could do was pleasure her and hope that she will decide that he deserves oxygen for his efforts.

“That’s a good boy,”, she moaned on top of him, head falling back, her foot pressing harder against the cage, making him groan into her, “Do-don’t you d-dare stop.”

She was close, very close, and to help her pet along Mikasa lowered one hand between her legs, playing with her swollen clit, rubbing herself in sync with the movements of Eren’s tongue dancing around her anus. Dipping two fingers inside herself, Mikasa spread her legs to touch herself better, moaning loudly and making no effort to muffle herself. With a deep shove of his tongue Eren finally pushed her over, Mikasa’s body writhing as an orgasm overtook her, still fingering herself to drag it out. Feeling her tighten and release was great, although the momentary lapse in vigilance meant that Eren was dangerously close to suffocating when Mikasa finally got off his face, allowing her pet to live. She needed a moment to calm after having her butt so nicely pleasured, Catching her breath, calming herself, she moved to stare right down at her pet.

“You deserve a reward for this,”, she said, caressing his hair and watching Eren’s face, red from both the teasing and the lack of oxygen, “That was some fine ass-eating you did.”

“Th…”, he coughed, throat hoarse, “Thank you, mistress.”

With a wink, Mikasa repositioned herself between Eren’s legs, once again gently running her fingers over the bars.

“I think it’s high time we let you out”, she cooed, tracing the ring with the tip of her finger, “wouldn’t you say?”

“I… Uhm..”, praying to high heaven that this is not another one of Mikasa’s traps, Eren met her gaze with a bit of fear in his own eyes, “I-If you believe I deserve it, mistress..”

Slowly, as if she was still deciding, Mikasa slipped the key from around her neck, sliding it into the lock. With a click, the cage loosened, falling away from his cock which almost immediately sprung to its full length. The cage was gone, but the ring remained, pulled tight around the base, meaning that Eren was not yet completely free.

“You know how it goes,”, she said, putting away the cage and retrieving another thing from her collection, placed in a way that Eren couldn’t see what it was, “Something goes out, something else….”

Pop and the pleasant smell of scented lube invaded his nose.

“Goes in…”

The finger penetrating his ass was not much of a surprise anymore. Mikasa was in no rush, slowly preparing her pet’s hole, rotating her hand to loosen his muscles. Adding another finger, she dripped a bit more lube over him, and Eren finally recognized what the smell was. Cherry. Mikasa was using the lube Hange gave them as a gift, making him wonder if the scientist would be surprised by how they were enjoying it. Probably not. Scissoring her fingers, the tips brushed against Eren’s prostate, making him hiss at the white-hot pleasure that coursed through his veins.

“Easy… Easy…”, Mikasa was still smiling, her voice light, “Don’t get too worked up yet.”

How was he supposed to not get worked up when she fingered his ass so well, knowing just where to touch and how to move her hand to make him melt. The muscles gave way, surrendering to her, and that was exactly what she wanted. Pulling her fingers out, Mikasa laughed when Eren whined in protest.

“Aw, you’re so cute.”

With that, a new pressure appeared against his anus, sliding past the weakened ring and into him. Silicone, a shape he knew, curved in a way that pressed right against his sweet spot. Eyes shooting open, Eren saw that it wasn’t a strap-on, as he first thought, it wasn’t fastened to Mikasa’s waist. It was a vibrator, a prostate massager, a toy that had the power to reduce him into a complete mess. As if he wasn’t ruined enough. Satisfied that it was placed into him correctly, sheathed all the way in, Mikasa retrieved the remote and climbed back up over his body to face him.

“Let’s turn it up a notch.”, she said, “You’ll eat me out, make me cum all over your face with your tongue while this thing, “she held up the remote, “will play with your ass.”

A broken whine from him. Good enough.

“If I decide that you earned it,” Mikasa continued, “I’ll let you cum. If not, well….”

Her eyes moved back where the cage and wand were resting.

“We can always go back.”

“I’ll give you the best orgasm of your life, mistress, you can count on me.”, Eren pleaded, almost feverish, willing to do anything not to go back into the cage.

Desperate, just as she liked him.

“We’ll see about that.”

Resuming her rightful position on the throne that was Eren’s face, Mikasa sighed happily when she felt her slave immediately go to work, mouth, and tongue eager to stay true to his word. Relaxing, letting him do his magic, Mikasa clicked the remote, the toy in Eren’s ass coming to life. It worked amazingly, massaging his prostate just as the name suggested, making his cock strain wildly against the ring. It was hard to stay focused on eating his mistress out, with this toy inside him, but Eren was determined. Moving his mouth, licking at her, locating the sweet spots with the tip of his tongue, he did everything he could to make her cum.

He mouthed her eagerly, tongue dipping deeper into her sex, prodding, and lapping at all she had to offer. Unable to use his hands to pull her closer, Eren had to make do with her ass pressing down against his chin as Mikasa eased more of her weight on top of him. Skin warm against her bare thighs, hot breath coming in exhale right into her, everything wet with his saliva and her juices. Her cunt quaked, throbbing and squeezing as his tongue worked within her.

Mikasa was worked up again, not letting her body rest, thighs squeezing hard around his face, freezing Eren in place. She panted on top of him, her hand clenching around the remote, the other pressed against his belly, stabilizing herself. Eren didn’t leave any part of her body alone. Tongue tracing from her pussy to her anus, he glided around that spit slick hole, dipping in again, making her moans rise in intensity. She didn’t even feel like touching herself at this point, Eren was just too good at this, trained by her in the arts of pussy and ass eating to perfection. Even with the prostate massager inside him as a distraction, he was making her see white, muscles of her core pulling tighter and tighter in the preparation of the rapidly approaching peak.

His tongue continued to pry into her heat, slick and tight and accompanied by moans and curses, muffled by the legs squeezing his head. Eren couldn’t hear her, but he could feel her, feel how she bucked on top of him, riding his face, chasing her orgasm that was closer and closer by the second. Her skin was feverish, beads of sweat gliding down and collecting to where her body was hugged by the harness. Her small tits, framed by the belts, were squeezed anytime she moved, only heightening the beautiful experience. The velvety walls squeezing around his tongue, thighs shaking, breathing ragged. She was drenched now between the legs, by both her arousal and the spit, smearing it all over his face, but Eren was far from minding that.

And then she was gone. Muscles tight, her cunt gripped his tongue hard, pulsing around the wet intruder in an attempt to milk it. Mikasa’s body shook, her head fell back, a scream of pure ecstasy ripping from her throat.

“Eren, I…”, she moaned, the fire spreading into her, “Oh god!”

Her hips were moving on their own now, riding his face, using his tongue to keep herself engaged, to prolong her pleasure high as long as possible. Eren was completely on board with that. Not pulling back in the slightest, he kept on tongue fucking her, delving deep into her throbbing sex, drinking her in. She was high and feverish, head lost somewhere in the clouds of sex, feeling thoroughly satisfied. Mikasa couldn’t hold herself up anymore, and with Eren’s hands tied, there was no one to catch her as she collapsed, panting hard into his skin.

There was silence now when she wasn’t screaming anymore, a silence broken by their heavy breathing and the gentle buzz of the prostate massager. The way she fell, down at his stomach, placed her just a few inches away from his straining cock, dripping precum everywhere. There wasn’t a word to describe how much Eren needed a release anymore. Teased, being forced to eat his mistress out and feeling her cumming on top of him multiple times was hot as fuck, and with his vibed prostate added to the mix it was getting too much. Too fucking much to handle. Still, Mikasa took her time, getting her body back to work, stretching like a cat. Pushing herself up on all fours, knees digging almost painfully into his stomach, she turned to look at Eren, dragging a finger down his drenched face.

“Well that was something, puppy.”, pushing her fingers into his mouth, she let him suck on them, “You are so well trained, I adore your magical mouth…”

Eren wanted to reply to that, thank her, or maybe say that perhaps the reward in order, but whatever he wanted to say never left his mouth because Mikasa finally touched his cock, for the first time since letting him out of the cage. It wasn’t with her hands, she was facing him after all, but her feet slid down, taking his length between them, holding him between the instep of one and the bottom of the other foot. With this improvised hold, Mikasa began jerking him off, moving her legs up and down in a rhythmic motion. It wasn’t fair. No one was supposed to have this much of agility in their feet. Mikasa wasn’t even looking at what she was doing, content with watching his face, moaning around her fingers in his mouth, grinning like a cat.

“Poor baby, did you want to say something?”, her feet pumped him harder, the tips of her fingers scissoring as she forced his mouth open.

Eren was panting like a dog at this point, his tongue out, eyes blown and unfocused while she kept torturing him. An idea popping out in her head, Mikasa pursed her lips, letting a rope of spit fall. The process was slow, telegraphed, and if Eren didn’t want to participate he had plenty of time to turn his face away. But he didn’t. Instead, he let her spit into his mouth, opened and pliant and completely at her mercy. Fuck, that was hot. Dipping down, Mikasa kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth, the tempo of her footjob hard and fast. Combined with the massager, it was a lot of pleasure, more than Eren was able to handle, swelling against the cockring. It was supposed to stop him from cumming, but he was simply too overwhelmed, his body burned with the need. It couldn’t stop him from cumming but cruel as the toy was, it ruined the orgasm his dominatrix forced out of him. Leaking some pitiful dribble on Mikasa’s feet, Eren let out a pathetic whine, not finding any pleasure in this. He felt her grin against his mouth. It did nothing to lessen the pressure, it did not make him feel better, in fact, he was feeling worse now.  And Mikasa was not about to ignore that.

“Aw would you look at that.”, once again sliding down between his spread legs, she poked his leaking thing, still smiling. She was so cruel, it was unreal.

“This is some next level desperation, puppy, managing to cum even with the ring on. And just from my feet too.”

Just from her feet and the prostate massager, of course, but she gracefully omitted that vibrator deep in Eren’s ass. Face thoughtful, her fingers circled the engraved steel of the cockring.

“Maybe I should have pulled it tighter.”

To add insult to injury, she lowered her head, dragging her tongue over the side of his cock, licking it clean of its half-release, teasing him again. Life sucks when your cock is owned by such a cruel dominatrix.

“But such disobedience still warrants punishment.”, she added, back to being a strict dominatrix, “Babe, it’s time for your dick flattening.”

With that, she pushed down hard, pressing his cock against his stomach and forcing another whine from his throat. This wasn’t fair. Letting go, she stroked him, getting his erection going again before re-applying the pressure, flattening his dick back down. It was harsh, borderline painful, but she was having fun. And that’s what mattered.

“You like it?”, she asked, getting a weak shake of his head in reply, “Too bad, because I do.”

Turning up the heat, Mikasa stood up on the bed, lifting one leg and using her foot instead of her hand, stepping on Eren’s jewels. It was worse like this, with her weight pressing down, made even more unbearably when she grinded her heel against his cock, making him cry out. Ok, maybe cumming without permission was out of line, but it was a stupid ruined orgasm which he couldn’t control anyway. Having his dick flattened was not an appropriate response. Ignoring his wordless protest, Mikasa grinded down harder, pushing her foot right against the head, sadistic. She always lessened the pressure before increasing it again, giving Eren those little hopes that his punishment was complete. It wasn’t.

It would be a shame to flatten his dick completely. Eren had a nice cock, 10/10, long, thick, with well-shaped balls and all, but obedience was a base of a happy relationship, and Mikasa just had to punish him. It was her duty as Eren’s mistress to discipline her pet when he misbehaved.

“Anything you want to say in your defense?”, she queried, poking his swollen sack with her toes, “Or do you want me to completely crush your balls.”

“I’d… Uhm…. Pre-Prefer if you did-didn’t, mistress. Why would you destroy your property?”

Ooh, using her own reasoning against her. Cheeky, but Mikasa liked it.

“Good point.”, she surrendered, finally lifting her foot from Eren’s abused cock.

The punishment had to be more severe, but Mikasa wanted to be smarter about it. He came without permission, and while it was still an unfulfilling finish, it went against her wishes. Maybe she should show him just how unpleasant having your orgasm ruined can be. A smile appeared on her face. Yes, that was the perfect way to show Eren the error of his ways.

“Now then..”, back between his legs, she stroked the reddened length with a thoughtful expression on her face, “What am I going to do with you….”

Eren wasn’t in the position to decide his fate. Tied up, he shot a quick prayer towards heaven, hoping that Mikasa won’t pull out any more of her devilish scheme. He was wrong, of course, but he didn’t know that. Yet. Pausing for a moment, Mikasa retrieved the lube bottle and dribbled some of the cherry-scented liquid down on Eren’s length, massaging it all over him. It was always fun to have her hand turbo glide over his cock, with almost no resistance at all. Taking a firmer grip, she began pumping him, up and down at a steady tempo. Mikasa didn’t rush, but wasn’t too slow either, using her thumb to play with the head and increase the already dangerously spiking pleasure. Hearing his sounds, watching him squirm against the belts holding it down reminded Mikasa that she didn’t have to tire her hands, did she. Retrieving the Hitachi wand, she turned it on, pressing the vibrating head right against the tip of Eren’s cock. It felt powerful when she was vibing his cage, it felt insane when it was right on his oversensitive flesh. With a scream of a dying animal, Eren pulled on the bindings hard, the leather groaning in protest. But he couldn’t free himself, he couldn’t do anything, he was left in Mikasa’s hands, who undistracted by his actions continued, tracing all of his length with the wand. Moving down, she pushed it down against his balls, jerking him off with her free hand. It was too much again. With the vibrator in his ass, the wand at his balls, Mikasa’s skillful hand on his cock, Eren could feel it coming again, that wave that would grant him release but no pleasure, a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that he did not want to happen again.

“P-Please!”, he screamed, willing to do anything to be let free, “Mistress, I beg you, not again…”

“Oh?” As if she just noticed his struggle, Mikasa looked up with an arched eyebrow, “What do you want, puppy?”

“Please, let me out, please please…”, his words fell apart, becoming a pleading gibberish as he held her gaze, beyond desperate.

“You want me to take off the ring?”, she asked, tapping it with her nail.

He nodded immediately, more begging on his lips.

“You think I should let you cum?”, Mikasa wasn’t convinced, “Do you deserve it?”

Maybe it was a bad idea, but Eren couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y-Yes... Please…”

She studied his face, black nails tapping against the steel ring.

“Very well, since you’re begging so nicely.”

The cockring clicked open, falling away, and Mikasa placed it next to the cage. Gone, but easily in her reach. Eren felt like he could fly, the infernal pressure was gone from around his base, he was free, so free. Well, if you didn’t count that he was tied to the bed, but that was insignificant. He was so lucky that his mistress was such a nice person, it was proof that she loved him so much. Shooting him a smile, Mikasa began stroking his cock again, her hand feeling so much better now that the ring was gone. The wand also clicked on, the buzz combining with the prostate massager that never stopped, finding its place under the head of his cock, pleasuring the most sensitive place. Eren was in heaven, the buildup rising and rising, the climax he deserved building in his beaten and bruised body, sure to be an amazing one. Yes, just a tiny bit more, last push and…

“You know, it’s amazing,”, her voice, coming into his barely coherent ears, Eren’s whole clenched in preparation for that amazing release she was building up for him, “All this training and still…”

Suspicion, creeping up his spine in reaction to the tone of her words, a thinly veiled threat in them.

“Still you think that you can tell me what to do.”, a tired sigh from her lips, but at the same time her hand sped up and he was close, so fucking close….

“The audacity.”

Eren broke. And she stopped, right at the same time, her hand rapidly sliding down to clamp hard at the base, replacing the cock ring with her fingers. The wand was also gone, and the vibrator went dead in his ass, the pleasure stopping. Yet he couldn’t stop it anymore. Eyes shooting open, Eren whined out loud in protest, his hips trying and failing to move, held down by the belts. He needed friction, something, anything to rub his cock on, to find that stimulation. Nothing, there was nothing, only the iron hold Mikasa had on his balls, denying him any sort of pleasure. Again. The wave crashed. Shaking, dribbling, Eren was mercilessly thrown into another ruined orgasm, a punishment from his cruel mistress, weakly leaking on his stomach. The dominatrix granted him no pleasure, she finished her pet off in the worst possible way, his cock going into that half-soft half-hard mode, only adding to his frustration. Body shaking, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, Eren couldn’t be more destroyed. Correction, he thought that he couldn’t be more destroyed. Mikasa disagreed.

When her tongue touched his ruined cock, when she sucked on him, Eren literally sobbed, unable to bear her anymore. How could she do this to him?

“N-No, please… Mistress…”, he looked down at her, down between his legs where she was bringing his cock back to life, ignoring his pleadings, “Not again, anything but this... Please!”

Her dark eyes met his, grey flashing into emerald, and Mikasa waited for a second, pausing in her torment. And Eren knew what she was waiting for. Is he going to use his safeword? Is he going to take that way out?

No. He couldn’t. Despite the suffering, despite being this used and abused, despite feeling like his consciousness could snap at any moment, Eren was loving this. Deep down, hidden, but it was there. The fact that Mikasa owned him, did what she wanted to him, this incredibly cruel and merciless, it rubbed the twisted parts of him so well. There could never be anyone else but her, Eren would never let anyone else ruin him like this. Just her, his dark goddess, his small tiddy goth gf, his cruel domme, his beloved mistress. Just Mikasa.

Seeing that he is silent, that he won’t give in, Mikasa went back to work. If Eren won’t back down, she certainly didn’t feel like stopping. Exploring his uttermost limits, balancing him on the edge, that was always worth it. He could fall, if he wanted to, but she would catch him.

Eren did his best to stay soft in her mouth, but that task was impossible. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to force his cock not to harden, how hard he pushed the erection back, it still happened. His body was still unsatisfied, it yearned for a proper release. Teased for this long, his balls felt like bursting, the two consecutive ruined orgasms brought him no satisfaction. But from the look on Mikasa’s face, that wasn’t happening. Resurrected, his length was once again standing at attention, making her smirk. Raising the Hitachi wand, again, she circled the head of his cock, loving the shuddering breath he took. Eren knew what was coming this time, knew that begging and pleading won’t save him.  He should have kept his fucking mouth shut, trying to tell Mikasa what she should do with her own cock. So what that it was attached to his body, it still belonged to her.

He closed his eyes, turned his head away. He tried to think about unsexy stuff. That wouldn’t work if he would look at her, Mikasa was fucking beautiful, naked porcelain skin glistening with sweat, black leather belts of the harness crossing her body, all the way from her choker down to her thighs. He loved how it made her tits stand out, the white framed by the black, how beautifully her abs looked, bathed in sweat. Yea, he couldn’t look at her, if he wanted to make his cock soft.

Still, it didn’t work.

The wand felt too good. Her mouth felt too good. It didn’t matter that the massager wasn’t turned back on, remaining a dead weight in his ass. Her hand, oh god her fucking hand. Mikasa just knew how to touch him, knew how to spread her fingers around him, knew where to push. He couldn’t win. Never. And to make it even worse, when the dominatrix saw how her slave tried to deny her, she did the worst thing possible.

She giggled.

Tears slid down his face. Why did she have to do this to him, and worse, why did he love it so much? Muscles clenching, Eren tried to push the rising tide back, to no avail, tried delaying his peak as much as he could, knowing that she’s just going to ruin it for him. Mikasa was keeping a close eye on his cock, her fingers always checking the glands, she knew exactly how his body reacted when he was close. He couldn’t trick her, he couldn’t stop her, he couldn’t do anything. It came, unstoppable as a hurricane, made him climb higher and higher until he tripped over the place of no return. And again, she denied him. For the third time that evening, Eren cried out while his cock finished with no stimulation, trembling with each spurt, for the third time he dribbled a pitiful amount of cum, for the third time he was kicked down from his height with no satisfaction. She tormented him until he was done, and then some more, adding post orgasm torture to the long list of things that she’s put her pet through tonight. Even as his length was going back into its half-soft state, she kept the wand going, her tongue drawing playful circles at the head. It made Eren afraid that perhaps Mikasa still wasn’t done, that she intends to ruin him again, but just as he was completely losing hope, she stopped. Putting the wand down, she looked over her handiwork, proud of what she’s done. Eren was humiliated, done, ruined. His cock was red and abused, balls still full to bursting, no release granted. He was openly crying, tears sliding down his face, body shaking as much as it could in the tight confines of the bondage.

If there was hell, Eren was tied down in the deepest circle, and the devil herself, hidden in the form of a beautiful woman, was tormenting him.

Job well done, Mikasa quietly congratulated herself, Eren was about as ravaged as a man could be. A bit tired from all those activities, her legs still feeling weak from how powerful her satisfying climax was, Mikasa decided to take a breather. A pause in all this madness to collect her bearings and decide how to play with her pet further. The night was still young. Digging into her box of wonders, Mikasa pulled out another piece, crawling to where Eren’s head was. Her puppy was unresponsive, looking away, his face so sad that it tugged at her heart. Just a little bit. To get some reaction out of him, to wake him up from that lethargy, Mikasa put her head close to his chest, teasing one of his nipples with the tip of her tongue. Eren’s nostrils flared, but he still refused to look at her, didn’t want to fall for her charms again just to be let down.

“Puppy, don’t sulk.”, she tried, a certain artificial sweetness in her voice.

If anything, it made him sulk harder. Oh well, she tried to be nice. When the cold metal clamp bit down into his nipple, Eren finally did something, hissed in pain to be exact. His teary eyes found her face, a silent pleading written in his features. But no, Mikasa wouldn’t relent. Eren could always safeword out, and if he wouldn’t do it, she had reason to spare him from her sadistic machinations. She put the metal jaws on his other nipple too, the chain connecting the clamps rattling. With that out of the way, Mikasa took the leather hood she had brought, grabbing a fistful of Eren’s hair and roughly angling his head so she can slip it over him. It cut off his vision and hearing, covering his eyes and ears by a thick amount of the material. Then it was time to take care of his mouth, so pushing two fingers into it, Mikasa pried it open, gagging Eren with a rubber ball. He didn’t fight her when she secured the strap around the back of his head but didn’t help her either, choosing apathy as his defense mechanism against her sadism. Too bad that Mikasa didn’t mind, she was sure that the next batch of toys would cut through that like a hot knife through butter.

The toy looks unassuming, just like a small open cuff or a sheath, but from what she heard on the internet, it was supposed to be powerful. No better time to try than now. First, she retrieved the ring from where she put it, clicking it closed around his cock again. It would help maintain his erection and prevent him from cumming to a degree, and Mikasa wanted to continue having fun. He was still half-soft, his body recovering from the shock of the ruined finish, but that didn’t matter, the toy should work even on a fully flaccid penis. The placement was important, and Mikasa made sure to slide the thing so the vibrating plate would be in the right place, the underside of the head, the most sensitive place. The wings of the toy hugged his shape, holding the whole thing. Mikasa’s work was uninterrupted by any sounds from Eren, who was lost in complete darkness, blind, deaf and mute. He could feel her fingers on his cock, locking it into some infernal contraption again, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Just wait. And fear what was about to come.

Right, so did she forget anything? Cockring? Check. The vibrating toy secured on his penis? Check. Prostate massager still in place? Check. Gag? Check. Hood? Check. The bindings? Check. Yup, it’s game time. Sliding down from the bed, Mikasa took a seat, watching Eren’s motionless form on the bed. This position, him tied up and helpless, his senses taken away, her, with the remotes in hands and fully in power, this was exactly what he did to her not that long ago. That time, she was the one on the bed, tied to the frame and in Eren’s hands, but their positions were now reversed. And it was time to show him just how amazing it is, to be subjected to a complete sensory deprivation and have your weak spots attacked at the same time. Clicking the remotes in her hands on, Mikasa brought the toys to life.

When the massager woke up, Eren groaned into the gag. He almost forgot that he had it stuck in his ass all this time, most of his attention focused on the torment his crotch received. Then, the clamps Mikasa put on his nipples followed, also vibrating, because why the hell not. And then, just as he thought that this was it, the sheath that she slid his cock in joined in. Whoever came up with the toy had a rather good idea about male anatomy, because the vibrating plate was pressed right against his frenulum, making the toy very effective. His cock was back in full-on hard mode before he realized what was happening. So this is what it felt like. Eren had no control over the situation, he was tied to the bed and sex toys were vibrating against the most vulnerable parts of his body. There was nothing he could do to affect his position in any way, his fate was in Mikasa’s hands. Unable to bear it silent anymore, he threw his head back, the leather of the hood sliding across the bedding and screamed into the gag, the sound effectively muffled. Nope, nothing. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak. Couldn’t make her stop. Just lay right there and take it.

Mikasa was loving this. Watching Eren writhe on the bed, his head snapping from side to side in futile attempts to do something, hands, and legs pulling at the cuffs as he tried to free himself. It didn’t help, not even when he pulled with all his strength, making his muscles stand out so nicely beneath the skin. With the belts securing him to the mattress, Eren couldn’t even shift his hips to lessen the pressure. Fuck, but this was hot. Before Mikasa even realized what she was doing, her hand found its way between her legs, fingers touching her engorged clit. When the tips of her fingers slid across her wet nub, she stopped herself, staring down with wide eyes. Was she seriously going to finger herself while watching Eren tied to the bed, fighting against the vibro-torture she put him in? Slowly, her lips spread into a grin.

Fuck yes.

Grabbing the neglected Hitachi wand, not needed by her puppy as Eren had other toys entertaining him, Mikasa turned it on and pressed it against her pulsing clit, sighing happily. Eyes glued to her lover’s bound body, she stared as he shook, drinking in those delicious sounds muffled by the gag. Sweat was gliding down over his muscles, making them glisten so perfectly. It was like watching a scene from a movie, the torment of a fallen angel, Eren’s silent battle against the machines was beautiful to behold. His body, all hard muscle and planes of smooth skin, restricted by her devilish hand, tormented because she wanted him to. Observing the fruits of her labor, Mikasa felt powerful and in control and it did make wonders for her arousal. Putting one leg on the chair, spreading herself open, she pushed two fingers into her wet opening, a moan falling from her lips. While Eren could find no release, the ring working as intended, he was left to stay on the edge endlessly, Mikasa worked herself to a solid peak. Fingers deep inside her clenching cunt, wand working against her swollen clit, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her helpless puppy. Her pet was doing his best to stay sane, the toys breaking and entering into places that should remain locked. Eren couldn’t even hear her moans, couldn’t see how she worked herself between the obscenely spread legs. Melting into the sofa, Mikasa came on a deep shove of her digits, chest heaving, using the wand to prolong the orgasm for herself. Oh yeah, this was the stuff. The wand falling from her fingers, Mikasa leaned back, calming herself, eyes not leaving Eren even for a second. Watching him squirm, watching him fight and lose against the bondage he was in, watching the toys buzz against his body, she came to a decision. His ass was surely more than prepared by now, the prostate massager working him for some time, and Mikasa did want to fuck him before the play was done. No time like the present. But when she tried standing up, her exhausted legs couldn’t hold her, and Mikasa fell back into the chair. Okay, maybe in a moment. For now, she would just relax and watch that nice spectacle happening in front of her on the bed. After calming down, she would walk over to the place where their toys were, pick out her favorite strap-on and fasten it around her hips. She would climb into the bed and fuck the lights out of Eren. But for now, she would just watch and enjoy the show. Her puppy wasn’t going anywhere, the tight bondage made sure of that.

Eren didn’t know how much time has passed, he had no way of measuring it. It felt like ages since Mikasa took his senses away from him, since she turned the toys on and left him cooking in his own sweat. Robbed of any way to influence his well-being, Eren was reduced to a moaning mess, pulling at the cuffs in desperate attempts to break free, but deep down he knew that they won’t give. They didn’t. He could only be let out by Mikasa’s grace, and she was especially cruel tonight. The dominatrix could keep him tied to the bed as long as she wanted to. Eren couldn’t even think, the toys robbed him of any ability to form coherent thoughts, placed expertly and abusing him without a pause. Just as he was slowly coming to terms with being turned into another piece of furniture, the toys switched off and fingers appeared. Not on his face as he expected, instead they were between his legs pulling at the vibrator. It left his ass with a wet sound caused by the copious amounts of lube Mikasa used to push it in, making his muscles automatically clench around the sudden emptiness. After that, she removed that sheath from his cock, and even the clamps were opened, making Eren’s body free of the infernal machines. With the hood still on his head, he couldn’t see what Mikasa was doing, but Eren had the creeping feeling that his butt won’t remain free for a long time. For once, he was correct.

To get the desired angle, Mikasa had to untie his legs, placing them around her hips instead. With that out of the way, she grabbed the strap-on at the base, carefully guiding it into his stretched opening. The rubber head of the dildo slipped between parted ass cheeks, tracing over his perineum until Eren was trembling and clenching in anticipation. He knew what was coming. Finally, she pushed her hips forward, invading his private area with the toy. The stretch was delightful, the cold hard plastic pushing deeper and deeper into his ass with every movement of her hips. She pulled back before pushing forward, worked her way in, didn’t rush anywhere. Mikasa rolled her hips, the toy rubbing over his inner walls, and Eren cried out into the gag.

It was time to fully reward her pet, he deserved it for taking the dildo so well. Mikasa grabbed Eren’s shins, pushing and guiding, lifting his legs. She moved her hands to his knees, pressing them into his chest, practically bending him in half as his whole body curved and his ass stuck out, the strap-on still buried deep inside it. With this better angle at her disposal, Mikasa began fucking her pet in the earnest.

Her thrusts picked up the tempo. Deeper. Faster. Nudging against sensitive walls as his legs tensed up against her. Her hips slapped against his ass driving her rubber cock home. His knees were pressing into his chest almost painfully, but he didn’t even feel it, his entire brain fogged with Mikasa fucking his ass. Knowing how to move, how to rotate her hips, the tip of the dildo pressed against Eren’s prostate, the sounds he was making behind the gag rising getting a new tone of intensity.

His cock throbbed between his legs, begging for attention, tears flowing from his eyes. She couldn’t see that thought, his face was hidden from her by the leather hood, but from how his body reacted to her, Mikasa knew that she was doing good. Faster still, in the perfect angle, hitting that sweet spot deep inside him again and again. Her thrusts were near brutal now. She was determined to make him cum just from her fake cock, there was no need to touch that weeping thing between his legs. Eren could cum like that, Mikasa has done that in the past and was about to repeat that achievement. Letting go of his legs for a second, she removed that restrictive device from his cock, her pet deserved to finally be granted a full release. Hooking her hands underneath his knees after, she pressed them higher, perfecting the angle she was fucking him at.

“Cum for me.”, she growled through gritted teeth, “Just like this, cum for me.”

Keeping up the cruel pace, uncaring that he was sobbing beneath her again, Mikasa kept rubbing his prostate with the tip of the toy. His skin was feverish, molten fire in his veins, the sensation too much and not enough at the same time. Time passed, her thrusts changed experimentally but were always aimed for that sweet spot inside him. Mikasa circled her hips, snapped them up, rotated them, tireless abdominals allowing her to play with no limitations. There was darkness, there was silence, there was the soft but firm hug of his bindings, and then there was the rubber cock inside his ass, hammering away. Eren felt like Mikasa had fucked any sense of intelligence out of him. He couldn’t think, his vision had black spots even in the darkness of the hood, his ears were full of rushing blood. His ass hurt from how strongly she fucked him, the burn in the muscles of his legs becoming more prominent the longer he had them pressed against his chest.

And then it hit him.

Like a fire, one deep hit was enough to send him over the edge. The gag, completely drenched in drool by now, was put to test as Eren screamed, body convulsing beneath her, cock throbbing as ropes of cum shot from it. His first real orgasm in a week, and it was an insanely powerful one, fucked from him by Mikasa’s strap-on without her laying a finger on his cock. It caked his stomach, reaching even as high as his chest, his ass clenching around the dildo buried inside it. Seeing that she had done it, Mikasa slowed down her movements but didn’t stop, knowing that if she kept fucking him it would make the whole experience even better. It did. The prolonged finish was like something from Eren’s wildest dreams. The sensory deprivation helped, with eyes and ears covered his brain wasn’t receiving any other information but that overwhelming pleasure, spreading from his prostate into his whole body. Mikasa milked him for all that he was worth, milked his prostate with the practiced movements of her hips, forcing Eren to surrender everything that he had. His cum, his essence was an offering to the goddess, and she was a greedy one.

He was gone, too far gone to even feel when Mikasa stopped moving, sure that she fucked everything out of him, milked her pet to the last drop. His legs were beginning to cramp when she allowed him to lower them back to the bed, moving on to the last part of the play. The aftercare. Unclasping the harness from her waist, she put the strap-on down to be cleaned later. It served them very well, but now it was time for the dom to take care of her submissive. Removing the nipple clamps first, putting them away, Mikasa began to free her beloved puppy. The hood slipped away from his face, drenched by tears. The gag was quick to follow, connected to his swollen lips by ropes of spit as Mikasa pulled it away.

“Eren? Baby?”, caressing his cheek, she got his attention, although his eyes were still very unfocused, mind flying somewhere very high, “Does anything hurt? Are you okay?”

He stared at her for a few seconds, digesting the words before his brain translated them.

“M’fine…”, he finally managed to let out, making a large weight fall from her shoulders.

Mikasa was genuinely worried to see him like this, usually fast reaction slowed to the speed of a slug. Playing rough was nice and all, but even mistress Ackerman had to make sure that Eren was truly okay, that she didn’t hurt him in her wild abandon. Buckle after buckle, she undid the bindings that held him to the bed, rubbing his wrists. They had red circles around, a proof of how hard Eren pulled on the bindings, but other than that there was no serious damage. His chest was scratched, his nipples were abused, but the worst was done in the places between his legs. Eren’s ass was reddened from how powerfully she fucked him, the place where her hips slapped into it almost welted. His cock was also mercilessly abused, now softened and shrunk, when his need was finally satisfied. She would take care of that damage, rub some cream into it, make sure that he recovered properly. But now, there was something else that Eren craved, and Mikasa knew exactly what to do. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she gently pulled his body towards her, putting Eren’s head into her lap. Stroking his overlong hair, she hummed a soothing melody, waiting for him to come back to reality.

It happened slowly. Minutes passed, more and more life coming back into his eyes, his mind returning from the subspace back to normal. Reaching out, Eren wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling himself closer until he could press his face into her stomach, just taking in her scent, breathing against her skin. She still had that leather harness around her body, and Eren was still collared, but there was time for that later. Keeping a rhythm going, she kept caressing him, giving Eren the privilege of choosing when he wants to move on. He would do that, but in time, now he was perfectly content with just resting on her thighs, having his head stroked and listening to her beautiful voice.

“Mikasa?”, he finally said after a long while, interrupting her melodic humming.

“Yes?”

“You’re a monster.”, a shaky inhale, “Those things you’ve done to me…”

That made her cringe a little bit, hand faltering where she was touching him. Did she let herself go too wild? Did she overdo it?

“I’m sorry, baby, was it too much?”

He rolled on his back, staring up into her worried face. Mikasa was biting her dark bottom lip in anticipation, unsure what to do, but her fears started melting away when a huge grin spread across Eren’s lips.

“You’re a monster,”, he repeated, “And I love you for it. This was….”

Honestly, he didn’t even know the words to describe what happened correctly.

“This was amazing, all that teasing, all those ruined climaxes…. When you finally allowed me to cum, it was an otherworldly experience, I blacked out for a short while. No joke.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed it.”

“Enjoyed it is a weak word. I adored it.”, his eyes sparkled, “Just as I adore you, my queen.”

“You’re lucky that you are so cute.”, she said, booping his nose, “Otherwise I might have been forced to slap you for such cheesiness.”

“Really? And since I am that cute, what is going to happen?”

She pretended to think for a moment before snapping her fingers.

“Got it! I’m going to kiss you.”

Bending down, she pressed her lips against his, swallowing that laugh that bubbled from his chest. Soon, she was laughing too, and the kiss was messy and full of promise. When they stop kissing, Mikasa will finally strip from that harness, remove the choker from her throat and the earrings from her ears. Eren will let her unbuckle the collar from his neck and she will put it right next to hers, a nice set for the kinky couple that they were. They will take a long bath, massaging each other’s sore muscles and joking about what happened. After that, Mikasa will rub some cream into Eren’s ass and chest, easing the sting of the wounds he collected. With all that done, they will cuddle on the cleaned bed together, falling asleep in each other’s arms after whispering sweet nothingness just for the two of them to hear. Knowing that, it is better to just leave them alone for now, as it would be rude to trespass on such an intimate moment.

Wouldn’t it?

[darksunrising]

Sola Gratia (14/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : No particular warning.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 14/? (2638 words)

Author’s notes : I’m back, babey ! Anyway, here is the Second Act Opening (yeah, changed the Act stuff, i am unreliable at best.)

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The ride to Vlad's estate was eerily silent. Nestled on the backseat, hugging my knees to my chest, I tried to find some comfort in the pale light of the moon, bathing the countryside in a silver haze. I felt like I was wrapped in cotton, sounds coming off muffled to my ears, filled with the low humming of the car. Vlad and Carmilla were whispering to each other, and beside me, Leah seemed completely lost in thought. She had a lot to process, after all. Maybe I should have told her sooner...

To the valleys succeeded an endless plain, covered in fields and woods, and the occasional farm. Not that far over the horizon, I could barely make out the dark, shimmering line of the sea. It grew as we left the main road, following a smaller one, that soon converted to a paved path, barely large enough to let the car pass. We crossed a large iron gate, opening a mossy stone wall. The inside was wild, the wind sweeping across tall grass, overrun by wild flowers and poppies. Tall umbrella pines cast a moving shadow under the full moon. At the end of the path stood a large house, practically a mansion. The walls were white, large limestone blocks neatly laid out at the corners, while the most part were rough stones, held together with a thick layer of white mortar. A large portion of the wall was overrun with ivy.

The car stopped. I unfolded myself and tried to get out once before I remembered to take off my seatbelt, then trying to adjust my bodice to accommodate the now half open corset. Gods, my kingdom for a change of clothes. A quick look beyond the house confirmed that It was built over a cliff, the sound of the waves crashing down below soothing me like a lullaby. Leah's arm curling around mine quickly set me back into the present situation, and I took hold of her hand, hoping to be reassuring. We followed Vlad through the main door, which he closed behind us.

A good number of cardboard and wooden boxes piled up in the hall, unopened. Vlad apologized for the mess, arguing he didn't expect company so soon after moving. Still, everything except for the main hall was pristine, the furniture very well assorted, much more than in his Romanian residence. I figured he must have picked everything himself, as it all seemed in good accord with his usual sense of style. In the living room, I went to the windows, which opened on a large terrace, directly giving out onto the sea. Vlad's voice, softly calling out to me, had me turn back, and sit with them around the coffee table.

Leah was nervously fidgeting with one of the ribbons of her dress. Where should we even start ? I was obviously not the only one wondering about that, as the silence had now been so long it was far over the limits of awkwardness.

“So, who's gonna tell me what the fuck is going on ?”, Leah finally blurted out.

“It's... a long story”, I started, hesitant.

“Long as in 'it started during my mystery trip to Romania I was suspiciously evasive about'—long ?”, she retorted in an accusatory tone.

“Yeah. At least that.”

She leaned back into her seat, staring at me. She didn't even look mad, she just looked disappointed, which was worse. Since we met, I never hid anything from her. I could say safely that she knew more about me that I did, and I never had felt the need to not tell her something. These last months, not talking to her had been a torture. She had been my absolute best friend for years, I hated lying to her. I hated it.

And so I told her. About everything. From the beginning. Vlad had a few protests during my recalling of the Romania Events, and Carmilla looked pretty entertained by it. I could swear I heard her laugh when I told how I stabbed Vlad in the end. Leah listened intently, not once looking away from me. When I stopped, she seemed to take a moment, and looked around the room. Calmly, without a word, she stood up, and took a step toward Vlad's seat. She extended a hand, and swiftly reached for his sword, that he had set aside before sitting. Unsheathing it in an ample, yet controlled movement, she brought the tip under Vlad's throat so fast even he didn't have time to react. Surprise probably helped on that endeavor, still she had him tilt his head up, flat of the blade pushing under his chin.

Her expression was terrible, calm, controlled, yet I had never seen her eyes so dark, her lips pinched so tight. Vlad didn't move.

“You... Have hurt the one I love most, beyond all that I could imagine”, she stated, her voice trembling with anger. “You have made her suffer, and now, you tell me she could be in even greater danger because of your fucking dad or some bullshit ?!”

Her hand was steady, yet I could feel like the only reason she didn't ram the blade through his throat was because she knew it wouldn't do much of anything. I stepped closer to her, and wrapped my hand around hers. She held the grip so tight her knuckles were bone-white. I had her lower the sword, which she immediately dropped, and turned to look at me, eyes watering up.

“I-I'm so sorry, Eris, if I had known... I would never... Fuck, he could've... He could've...”

She held my hands enclosed in hers, and lost her words into incoherent sobbing for a second. Bringing my hands to her face, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and took a moment to calm herself down. Still holding my hand, she turned her attention back to Vlad.

“I was too quick to give you my trust. That won't happen twice”, she told him, glaring. “You put us into this mess, and you'd better handle it.”

“I intend to !”

“I'm not finished”, she snapped. “If anything, I mean anything happens to Eris, I will hold you personally responsible, and I'll have your dismembered limbs impaled in my backyard.”

Carmilla giggled, to which Leah snapped and promised her the same fate.

“Now, you're gonna drive us home, and I don't wanna see either of your faces again, at least not until you handled the problem.”

“You can't be serious, you'll be safer here-”, Vlad started.

“Safer ? With you ?” She had a dry laugh. “Well, isn't that the funniest thing you've ever said.”

“At least, stay the night”, he insisted, looking over to me for backup. “I will drive you back as soon as you'd like in the morning.”

She was about to protest, and I caught her arm, interrupting her. “Leah, it's late, we're both tired. Let's just go to sleep, right ?”

She took a second, and gave in, nodding. She insisted we slept together, even though the house had a good number of guest rooms, which was, in retrospect, pretty funny for someone who didn't need sleep. He guided us to the room he had prepared for me, initially. It had to be about half my apartment's size, and included a tower at the corner. Huge bay windows gave onto a balcony giving out a magnificent view over the sea.

Vlad cleared his throat. “You will find a change of clothes in the wardrobe.” Leah gave him another killer look, arms crossed over her chest. He took his leave, but not before placing a light hand on my back.

If you can slip away, I would like to talk to you.

Ah, the most terrifying thing to hear. Despite that, the way his voice filled my mind was warm, and comforting. I silently nodded, and he took his leave, his fingers trailing along my back, almost as if he resented to break contact. As soon as the door closed, Leah had a long sigh, and dropped on the bed.

“I can't believe you kept this to yourself so long”, she told me. She sounded almost hurt. “I mean, why didn't you tell me anything ?”

I joined her on the opposite side, my head laying next to her. “I didn't know how to. I felt you'd be safer if you didn't know.”

“But you weren't !”, she protested. “You could have been hurt, again, all because I had no idea what kind of monster-”

“He's not a monster”, I cut her off, almost without thinking about it.

She took a pause, turning her face towards mine, an expression of disbelief painted over her features, eyebrows furrowed in a way that didn't suit her kind face.

“Eris, please don't tell me you believe that !”

“I do. I'll give you that the conditions of our meeting were, well, less than ideal, but ever since he came here, he did nothing but try to make amends.” She groaned. “Come on”, I insisted. “You've seen it, he's been nothing but kind, and thoughtful, and actually a great help for my thesis.”

“He also eats people, Eris”, she remarked.

“He told me he didn't kill anyone since he got here, and I believe him.”

“Because he actually is trustworthy, or just because you want to believe him?”

By all means, she wasn't wrong. I mean none of her worries were anything I hadn't thought of myself. I sat up, and started un-lacing my bodice.

“You don't know him like I do”, I told her, softly, knowing this wouldn't do anything to convince her. “Let's just go to sleep, for now, I'm exhausted.”

She reluctantly agreed, and we disrobed, significantly faster than we dressed up. I though my corset would be ruined, but only the lacing on the back was cleanly cut, without even a dent in the ivory silk. In the wardrobe, I was almost surprised to find modern clothing. For the most part, he had my sense of style pretty well figured-out. Not finding any underwear was disappointing, as I had followed Leah's advice on not wearing a bra underneath the corset, but also a bit reassuring, to be honest. Leah opted for a simple plaid shirt, that would have been a bit large on me, and therefore fell almost to her knees. I found an oversize black pajama ensemble, made of the softest wooly cotton. I joined Leah under the covers, and didn't have to wait long until she dozed off, her breathing becoming more regular, and calm.

I carefully removed myself from the bed, and slipped into a large dressing gown. I slowly opened the door, trying not to make the floorboards or the hinges creak. I only opened it enough to shuffle through, and exited into the corridor.

The silence was only disturbed by the muffled sound of the waves, and my own breathing. I didn't turn on any lights, as the full moon was well enough to see perfectly well. I wandered back to the living room, and walked to the bay windows. One was open, leaving a cool breeze inside. Wrapping myself tighter in my robe, I stepped outside, wincing at the feeling of cold stone under my feet. Over at the corner of the terrace, Vlad was leaning onto the balustrade, his hair disheveled by the soft wind. He also had a change of clothes, and had only kept his trousers, his shirt, and his cape, thrown over his shoulders. I suspected this was mostly a question of style, as I doubted he could even feel the cold. His gaze seemed lost over the horizon, watching the moon go down on the ocean. As I approached him, he turned his attention to me, smiling.

“I knew you were good at sneaking around.”

“Please, I bet you could hear me breathing from the other side of the house.”

“Breathing, not so much, but I can hear your heart.” He was leaning on his elbow, head cocked to the side. Arrogant. I sighed, and took in the mesmerizing view a moment. No signs of cars, lamps, or electric poles in sight. Only the moon, and the ocean's soothing voices.

“Do you like the house ?”, he asked, softly as not to disturb my reverie.

“I love it.”

He laughed at the speed of my reply. “Well, I hoped you would.” He took a pause. “I am sorry about Leah, however. I know you did not want her dragged into all of this, and because of my blindness, she has-”

Before he could finish, I set the tips of my fingers on his mouth, effectively closing it.

“If anything, it's my fault. I should have told her a while ago, I just never had the courage to do it...”

He took my hand in his, strangely warm, contrary to what I expected. I felt my heart sink into my chest as a question rose to my  mind.

“Vlad, I...”, I started, hesitant. He nodded slightly, encouraging me to continue. “What Carmilla said, back on the overlook...”

I became physically incapable of saying one more word, my heart beating out of my chest for no reason. No reason at all.

“You want to know if she was right ?”

Gods, that voice, that deep, silky voice. Maybe it was on purpose that he talked in a hushed tones, maybe to drive me mad, or not outshine the ocean singing below. I nodded, unable to look him in the eyes. He called out my name, barely a whisper. He let go of my hand, only to pull me closer, an arm around my waist, his other hand cupping my cheek. So warm... He took a moment, playing with a strand of my hair, sliding a finger along my jawline, and slowly running his hand along my neck. I couldn't help a gasp as a sharp nail traced over my veins. He hummed, seemingly amused with my reaction.

“Are you still scared of me ?”, he asked.

I couldn't tell if he really spoke, or if I heard him in my mind.

“No”, I breathed out.

Really ?

His lips brushed past mine, then on my jawline, and my neck. In a very poor instinct, I let my head fall back. The somewhat familiar feeling of his sharp teeth on my skin sent shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes.

“I trust you”, I whispered, leaning back onto the balustrade.

He opened his mouth, letting me feel his hot breath on my cold neck. For a second, his fangs pressed against my skin, soon replaced by a kiss, on the crook of my jaw, right below the ear. I giggled, and he closed his arms around my waist. Expectantly, he seemed to wait, for permission. For mercy.

I wasn't too long to grant it. Wrapping my hands around his neck, I closed the final space between us. As soon as my lips touched his, my heart stopped a moment, or several. I felt him sigh a second, and pull me closer. He was slow, intimate, perfect in every way. I felt electricity run through my body. His lips parted mine, and-

Everything was red.

The sea lapping at my ankles, the sky bursting with gold and blood under a starry indigo. Everything was the same as I last left. I turned around, and found him standing back.

“Here ?”

“I told you before, wherever you want to be.”

I ran to him, and threw my hands around his neck, and he wrapped his around me, lifting me off the ground.

“Makes sense it's with you, then”, I whispered, and kissed him again.

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Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @paracosmfantasy @lost-girl-inc

[enamoured-x]

@steph-oliveira requested prompts 8, 13, &23 from the Halloween Prompt List

Thank you for the ask! Hope you like it and sorry about the long ass wait! 

Halloween Prompt List can be found here, send me an ask!

Sonny Carisi x Reader

Word count: 1,838

8. “If you’re scared you can hold my hand.” 13. “Did you hear that?”         23. “Kiss me, I’m scared?”

Dating Sonny was always exciting, not just because of his loud and energetic personality but he was never one to half ass anything, whether it be with expressing his feelings or taking you out on dates. It was a breath of fresh air after having ex’s in the past who stuck with the same old boring routine. 

Just like always, Sonny had wanted to take you out but his idea of a night out was more like a few nights out. He was able to take the weekend off and made sure to tell you in advance so you could put in for time off as well. He had rented a cabin for a weekend in Massachusetts, a much needed weekend getaway in the woods with Sonny was exactly what the doctor ordered. The drive was a little over four hours but neither of you minded as you munched on candy and junk food from gas stations and sang along to the radio. You arrived pretty early in the morning and got groceries for the weekend stay, Sonny was looking forward to cooking for you like always. 

The itinerary was touch and go but Sonny wanted to hike after you settled in, seeing as the hike would be short and you would see the sunset at the top of the mountain, you figured it was the perfect idea and you could come back and start on dinner. It was chilly but nothing too bad, you were both in jackets and boots and Sonny even wore a beanie that you thought was cute as hell. You guys were eager to explore and as you walked further and further along the trail by the cabin you didn’t realize that you were slowly following a different path that was not a path at all. You didn’t realize until an hour later that you weren’t getting to the lookout view that was promised in the cabins trail guide. 

“We’re lost, Sonny.” You huff as you look around and don’t recognize anything. It’s also not like Sonny rented a cabin that had neighbors either, he wanted it to be secluded and it honestly sounded like a good idea at the time.

“Come on, we’re probably almost there. Maybe it’s just taking us a bit longer.” 

“Maybe we should head back, it’s getting dark. Not that we know where back is…” You were a little frustrated, a little scared too, neither you nor Sonny knew these woods and there was nothing nearby to use as a reference. It was also getting dark and you’ve seen enough slasher films to know that the couple who wanders off away from the cabin were always the first to go. It didn’t help that it was October so the only movies you had been watching lately were halloween related, all of them with at least a cabin, a couple, and a really stupid idea to go exploring when it’s dark. Check, check, and check.

“Let’s just walk ahead a little more. We could be close.” Sonny shrugs. His lack of worry eased your mind a little, maybe you were overreacting. Sonny was resourceful and he had a good memory, he’d be able to get you guys back.

Thirty minutes later, you had decided to turn back around because you were one hundred percent sure you guys were lost. It was dark now and the lookout was definitely nowhere in sight.

“You didn’t even think to bring a flashlight?” You groan as Sonny takes out his phone for light, you did the same as well.

“Why does that responsibility fall on me?” He asks. You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you. You were annoyed to say the least and even more terrified now as you knew animals were probably lurking around. The light from your phone was barely showing the path a few feet ahead of you and there was also no service to help navigate, which you already expected before you even checked your phone. Classic horror movie theme.

 Suddenly you hear a twig snapping and you thought you could faintly hear whispers, although the rational part of you told you it was just the wind.

“Did you hear that?” You whisper to Sonny as you grab his arm to stop him from walking any further. 

“What? No.” He shines the light around you guys to see if you could see anything but there was nothing nearby. 

“You’re just imagining things. We’re fine.” He was probably trying to convince himself more than you because his voice didn’t sound as confident as it was earlier.

“Sonny…” You grip his arm tighter as you hear another twig snap. Your heart was racing now and your palms were sweating. 

“If you’re scared you can hold my hand. Come on, Doll, I won't let anything happen to you.” You grab his hand and then cling to his side as you both continue walking. 

“This was a stupid idea, Sonny. We don’t know where we are.” He squeezes your hand at your words. You were exhausted and still scared at what might be watching you two as you try to navigate back to the cabin. 

“Complaining about it isn’t going to help.” He states and you can’t help but get annoyed. 

“Pretending you’re not freaking out right now isn’t going to help either. You know we’re screwed. This is all your fault.” You still hold on tight to him as you make your way across stumps and rocks. Despite being upset with him for particularly no reason, you weren’t going to let that get in the way of your comfort. 

“So you get mean when you’re scared, duly noted.” Sonny whispers under his breath but you both know you were meant to hear it.

“Am I supposed to be enjoying this? Am I supposed to swoon over you offering me your hand? How could I ever be scared when I have such a big strong man to keep me safe?” 

“Seriously?” Sonny asks, annoyance clear in his tone.

“Kiss me, I’m scared.” You say dramatically while shaking his arm, “was that what you wanted? Wanted to play the tough guy so I would go all heart eyes for it like we aren’t in this situation because of you?” The blame fell on both of you for not being more alert and for not being as prepared as you can be but you were starving and tired, you needed someone to blame. 

“I’ll kiss you if it shuts you up.” He says. You try to hide your smile into his shoulder as you don’t say anything. 

“Look, I have the compass app on my phone, so far we’re going the right way.” He adds and shows you the compass pulled up on his phone and you see that you’re heading in the right direction. 

“That means nothing if we don’t make it there.” You mutter and he stops walking. You flash your light around thinking he saw something but you don’t see anything. You then look up at him and he’s looking down at you with confusion and what seems to be amusement.

“What do you think is gonna happen?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe Jason hacking us to bits?” You involuntarily shiver as you imagine the masked killer. Sonny laughs. 

“I don’t know if anyone has told you this but he ain’t real, Doll.” You both continue walking.

“Okay but bears are. And I’m pretty sure there’s a few around here just waiting for the right moment to strike.” Your mind was running with all the possibilities of things that could harm you. 

“I’ll get you back safe and sound. The bears can find another meal and Meyers can find someone else to prey on.” This time you stop walking and Sonny stops to look at you.

“Meyers?”

“Yeah, the Jason guy you were just talking about.” He explains. You can’t help but scoff and let go of him.

“Sonny, do you not know your slashers?” 

“Yeah?”

“Who is the guy with the chainsaw?” You question him, arms crossed. Your fear suddenly going away as you realized Sonny might not know his horror films.

“Texas chainsaw.” He states like it was the obvious thing. Despite not wanting to make a lot of noise because of animals you can’t help but let out a deep laugh.

“Oh my fuck, Dominick. The Texas chainsaw massacre is the name of the movie, the killer is leatherface.” You try to contain your laughs by putting your hand over your mouth.

“I knew that! That’s what I meant!” He gets flustered and it only makes you laugh harder.

“You also just said Jason’s last name is Meyers.” You snort.

“Isn’t it? Wait, no, obviously that’s Michael Meyers.” He corrects himself. You grab his hand again and continue walking not wanting to waste more time.

“What movie has the iconic line, Do you like scary movies?” 

“What is this? Trivia?” He huffs.

“Answer the question.”

“I don’t know. The Michael movies?” You couldn't keep the amusement off your face as you realized Sonny had no clue what you were talking about.

“No. First off, Michael Meyer’s is in the Halloween movies, secondly, the line is from Scream with the timeless Drew Barry Moore.”

“How am I suppose ta know all this?” He asks exasperated with your questioning, accent coming out thick.

“I cannot believe this, Sonny. This is basic knowledge, everyone knows this stuff!” 

“I was never allowed to watch those movies growing up! By the time I was older, I didn’t really care to.” He defends himself as he shrugs.

“We’re watching as many as we can fit into this weekend.” You decided. 

“Weren’t you just complaining about how scared you were and now you want to watch movies that are undeniably going to have you paranoid the rest of the trip?” He questions.

“I’m scared because we’re in the woods at night. But showing you some classic slasher films while snuggled in bed sounds like a good time.” He kissed your temple at your words as you continue making your way back to the cabin. Throughout your walk you were explaining to Sonny the general themes for each film and which ones were your favorite. It made the trip back go by quicker and weirdly enough took your mind off the fact that you were lost in the woods, it was a good distraction.

After an hour of walking you had finally made it back to the cabin, you were both relieved when it came into view. 

Seeing as it was so late, Sonny made you both sandwiches and you got out the chips and beer. 

You were happy when Sonny finally set the food down on the coffee table in the living room, you quickly put on Netflix and opted to introduce him to Halloween first seeing as it was one of your favorites. 

“Is this the one where he shows up in their dreams?” 

You had a long weekend ahead of you. 

[warlock-enthusiast]

Waking up slow

The Wayhaven Chronicles

Adam du Mortain x female Detective (in the future)

Detective Kat Kingston faces a murder, Unit Bravo and her mother. (Not always sticking with the canon)

Chapter 4: Drinking and thralls

AO3 link

Chapter 1 / 2 / 3

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“Another one?” Kat clinked their empty glasses together. “Another one! You go. I…” Tina tilted her head, carefully deciding if standing up seemed like a good decision or not. “Eh, just go!”

So, that was the answer to that.

Kat took a deep breath and pushed herself up. She’d tried to pace herself, one cocktail, one shot. And she’d failed spectacularly. After three cocktails and five shots, Kat felt wasted. Wobbly legs, a tad crossed-eyed and surely far too unsure of her surroundings. In hindsight, she’d never been particularly talented in going out without getting drunk. Probably in direct correlation with self-esteem and crippling bouts of depression. Tonight had all been about reminiscing about old times and forgetting the present for a while.

But, well. Kat wasn’t here to analyze herself. No, not today, Sir!

For once, she tried to forget about the case and past and her mother and just concentrate on being alive (and drunk). Pushing away the nagging conscience, which bothered her, because of two dead people and a killer on the loose.

Not to mention weird Doctor Murphy and his empty eyes and strange behaviour.

She leaned over the bar and smiled. “Tequila sunrise! Two.”

“Yes, Detective Kingston.” Chen raised a brow, said nothing, and turned around to mix the cocktails.

Getting back to Tina seemed more exhausting than before and her friend patted the empty space beside her. “Ah, wonderful. Come here.”

Kat followed her invitation. Their shoulders touched and she saw a reflection of the bar’s lights in Tina’s eyes. Always so pretty. Always so put together. She hoped that her friend would never lose her spark.

They’d almost shared a good cry earlier, talking about their past patrolling the streets together and missing each other terribly.  

Tina looked relaxed now and drunk and raised the corner of her mouth, a cat waiting for some cream. “So, what’s going on with Unit Dashing? Any compromising situations?”

Of course.

Reading so many romance novels had put a special kind of imagination in her head. About wet, white shirts and fountains and romantic horse riding at the beach, not to mention a whole lot of passionate, nightly encounters.

To be completely fair, Kat had borrowed a few of the smuttier novels and indulged herself.  A lack of romance in her life didn’t mean that she’d suddenly lost all of her baser instincts and needs. She puffed up her cheeks. “They’re driving me insane and they’re so full of shit at times.”

“No help then?” “Maybe a bit. Not much though.” Kat rubbed her eyes. “Well, Agent Sewell is helpful and really, really smart. And Agent Hauville is … how to describe it? A ray of sunshine. I like him, yes.”

She did . The observation surprised herself.

Though, Kat dreaded the day that Felix and Tina formed a bond. A future filled with endless pranks and much laughter and so much warmth. Actually, not the worst thing to imagine.  

Maybe they should spent some time together.

Tina nodded, or tried to, because her movements seemed sluggish thanks to alcohol, and pinched Kat’s shoulder. “A toast to us then. We’re great.” “We are.”

“Yeah!”

“YEAH!”

TIna shuffled closer, her breath hot on Kat’s cheek. “Important question!” “Hm?” “Most handsome?” Tina’s eyes held a dreamy expression. “I vote for Nate. His eyes are just so, so pretty and I’ve always liked a bit of stubble and a good jawline.” “Eh.” “Come on, spill it. I’ve known you for years and we’ve talked about boys so so many times. Even about girls. I know your type.” Kat blushed and nearly spit out his name. “Adam.”

A moment passed.

Then another.

His name hung between them like some deep, dark secret, until Tina began to laugh and to pat Kat’s thigh. “Uh, like your guys cold, eh?”

Kat shook her head. “Remember Bobby?” “Sadly, yes.”

Both of them prefered to stay silent on the matter of Bobby to not ruin their evening.

“I don’t know. It’s just something …” Sighing, she rested her head on Tina’s shoulder. “Something about how he holds himself, always so tense and closed off. He’s clearly built a barrier between himself and the world and I just want to… you know, see what lingers beneath?”

“And you want to see him snap and press you against the nearest wall, ravishing you with his lips.” “MAYBE.” “OH… oooooh.” Tina giggled and wrapped an arm around Kat’s shoulder. “Look there.”

She hadn’t noticed how the bar suddenly went rather quiet. All the laughter and voices ebbing away with the presence of four Agency agents. And Kat knew, her short break was over with them in here.

Shit.

Adam’s dissapproving gaze made her squirm. It shifted from her bandaged hand right to her face, then to Tina drunkenly stumbling over her feet.

“You’re inebriated.”

“Yes. I’m drunk. Sorry, you had to find me here but I’m off duty and well, yes.”

Wonderful conversation.

Kat felt relieved that he hadn’t witnessed their earlier talks. She could live without him overhearing her swooning about him. Especially now, that his cold, green eyes watched her in such a disappointed manner. Her outfit looked ruffled and untidy with the first few buttons of her blouse open and her skirt too high on her thighs. Kat tried to make herself more presentable and earned a scuff from Adam.

“I need, uh, I need to ... “ Tina failed at standing up and used her arms to steady herself. Thankfully Nate came to her rescue and Kat noticed a faint blush sitting high on her friend’s cheeks, as he steadied her with his body. Ha!

“Have to go.” She pressed herself against Nate and let herself be guided to a cab.

Kat waved at her. “Write me when you get home!”

“Nothing wrong with a bit of fun, eh?” Felix tried to make light of the situation and earned a grunt from Mason, who already checked the bar’s drinks and ordered a round of something high in spirits.

“That is settled then.” Felix laughed and guided Kat back to the comfy chairs and sofas.

Drinking with Unit Bravo wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined. Especially with Felix at her side and Nate’s soft smiles and voice. Mason prefered a chair, which let him watch a group of pretty college students, while also offering enough shadow to hide half of his face.

Adam’s shoulders and back seemed straight and tense, but the green of his eyes looked a bit less hard and cold as he talked with his teammates. They cared about each other. All the banter and manly grunting, they cared and they liked being in each other presence. Maybe Kat hadn’t noticed it earlier, but their bond ran deeper than that of colleagues.

Suddenly feeling a bit sappy, Kat got up. “I’ll go and get us a nightcap.”

Her phone beeped and she found a message from Tina, explaining that she just fell right into her bed, followed by a paragraph of eggplants emojis.

Smiling and rolling her eyes, she looked at Chen and ordered the drinks.

Kat didn’t expect Adam so close behind her. She felt his presence, the hard planes of his body. His hand rested near hers and his voice washed over her, while making small talk. Their hands touched, as both reached for the glasses. Helping with carrying the drinks, yes, of course. Her throat went dry and heat rose to her neck and face. Her heart picked up the pace and Adam appeared flustered as well.

For once, unsure of himself? His gaze lingered on her mouth and neck and drifted lower to her chest.  

Something between shifted and fell into place. Just for a second, Kat seemed to know how to approach him and to go forward with this, this feelings.

The moment passed, but the warmth in her face lingered. Everything felt so complicated with him around him. Felix patted her back, seemingly knowing what was going on her head and Kat offered him half a smile.

At least, they could enjoy a drink in peace.

---

To arrest the killer. To get answers. Murphy was the killer.

Kat’s hands formed fists.

She hadn’t been this angry in a while and almost felt the blood rush to her head. Trusting them didn’t get her far. Instead they just lied and lied and kept secrets. A part of her had doubted their intention from the start. Following and protecting her from what exactly? What the heck was going on? Did her mother order them to block important facts from the case? But they never answered her questions, just offered flimsy excuses. Unit Bravo probably slowed down her investigation as well. Would make sense. A part of this puzzle was missing and had been from the start. Kat felt in her bones.

Always so close, yet so far away from a satisfying answer.

Shit, shit, shit. Kat wished to be drunk again, but her mind seemed completely aware and clean and she cursed under her breath. They fucking knew the killer. They knew and did nothing. Let him roam around looking for more victims. And now they seemed against the idea of getting him?

“What…?”

Four people blocked her path. A vile stench filled her nostrils and Kat suppressed a scream. With their rotten skin and milky eyes, they reminded her of bad Zombie movies. Couldn’t be for Halloween and she hadn’t read about a convention in Wayhaven.

“... the fuck.”

They closed in on her and she found Unit Bravo at her side.

“Thralls.” Kat heard Mason grunt and then chaos exploded around her. She’d left her weapons back at the station and tried to remember her training. Shock made it hard, though, and she raised her hands, only to witness Mason clashing with one of those things. A sick crack echoed through the night and the rest of Unit Bravo joined the fight. Felix seemed unusually fast and quick, almost too fast for her eyes. Adam parried attacks with brute force, while Nate prefered a more elegant solution of evading and hitting.

Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her.

Their stench and slow movements froze her blood, but their words brought a whole new rush of fear.

“Bring Kat. Not kill.”

“Detective Kingston?” Another voice cut through her panicked mind and she turned around to find a pale Douglas standing outside of the bar. She hadn’t even seen him in there. He appeared like some deer in the headlights, drunk and afraid and as shocked as Kat felt.  

One of these things turned around and focussed on him. “Kill witnesses.”

“Run, Douglas” In a spur of the moment decision, Kat put herself between them and Douglas and offered him a chance to flee. But what about her? She took a fighting stance, tried to punch her opponent and failed.  Her knuckles hurt from trying to find some weak spot.

Strong fingers closed around her neck and lifted her from the ground. Darkness began to dance in front of her eyes and Kat’s body collided with a wall. Everything hurt and she fought against losing her consciousness and mind. Bile rose in her throat and Kat thanked her reflexes for poking that thing in the eyes and a moment to steady herself and watch her surroundings.

Unit Bravo fought with all the strength and skill of people their rank and training, but the thralls fought without holding back, without fear or tactics. Just an ongoing wall of force. She’d never felt so helpless or ill prepared.

Kat rose her arms. “We can help you! Please, calm down. It doesn’t have to end like this.”

But it did. For a moment, she thought that she’d seen some humanity returning to their faces, but Mason knocked them down, before anything else could happen.

She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering and questioning everything.

Kat found her voice to be high-pitched and panicked and she tried to met Adam’s gaze.

“Tell me what’s going on. What is happening here?” Almost a plea, but he didn’t answer. Kat felt tears well in the corner of her eyes, as she discovered the wound on Adam’s arm. It closed itself. One moment there had been a deep gash and the next … gone.

“Adam…”

A sickening crack ended their conversation. Kat felt blood on the back on her head. “Ugh.”

And she fell and fell and hoped that someone would catch her.

[let-it-raines]

Rising from the Ashes (12/?)

When her husband died, Emma wasn’t sure that she could ever move on. He left her with a broken heart and a baby who was only three-months old. It’s enough to take most people down, to make them not want to keep going, but Emma Swan isn’t most people. She’s stronger than she has any right to be. And after years of heartache, she’s found ways to move on…one of those being in Neal’s best friend, Killian Jones.

As she’s always known, however, things are more complicated than they ever seem to be.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I’m sorry for the wonky formatting. I’m on vacation and can’t sleep and am doing this off of my phone. I thought it would be easier, but Tumblr can be dumb sometimes. I hope you enjoy regardless 💕

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @jamif @artistic-writer @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog @mayquita @bmbbcs4evr @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @shady-swan-jones @snowbellewells @snow-into-ash @andiirivera @mariakov81 @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @kristi555 @facesiousbutton82 @superchocovian @jonirobinson64 

-/-

-/-

“Killian, I’m really not sure if this is a good idea,” Emma whispers as they move forward in line, his fingers intertwined with hers as he tugs her forward to stand next to him so they don’t get lost in the crowd.

“Darling, I know you’re not big on the touristy activities, but we have to do it for Henry’s list.”

She tugs on his hand again, and he twists to the side to look down at her. He can’t see her eyes because of her sunglasses, the black frames covering the green, but he can see that her lips are pressed together in a firm line while her cheeks flush in a way that he knows has nothing to do with her blush.

“I mean the eye, babe. I don’t…I know it goes slowly, but I’m really worried that I’m going to throw up because of the movement.”

Oh.

He didn’t even think about that. He should have thought about it, but this is all still kind of new to him. It’s only been three days since they suspected Emma was pregnant, two since they’ve known officially, and they haven’t had much time to revel in it and celebrate with them constantly being around Liam, Belle, and Henry. It’s a bit ridiculous, really. Every time he gets Emma in a private corner simply to kiss her and tell her how goddamn happy he is that she’s in his life and is carrying their child, someone interrupts them.

Hiding Emma’s sickness is the most difficult thing, but trying to find some private time simply so they can talk is beginning to be even more difficult.

It’s likely a close tie.

He cannot believe he’s going to be a father.

Again.

He’s learning that it’s an odd disconnect, one that he’s struggling to understand, one that he really wants to talk to Emma about. Henry is his, undoubtedly. He loves that kid more than life itself. It hurts sometimes, physically aches, for him to think about his son and the light that he brings him after a life that has not necessarily been easy. He’s gotten to be a father to a little lad who he never thought would be such a major part in his life, and for someone whose greatest father figure was his brother and not his actual father, that’s not a responsibility he’s taken lightly.

He owes it to Emma and Henry, and even Liam and Neal, to be the man his father never was. Brennan was a fucked up man, but he helped shape Killian, whether he likes it or not.

But this is – this baby…she’s different. He’s got no clue if the baby is a boy or a girl, but he’s been calling her a girl in his head simply because it’s easier that way than dancing around pronouns and weird terms. She’s his little lady bug, and if she turns out to be a he, he’ll still be his bug. He doesn’t really have the words to describe how he’s feeling, and he likes to think of himself as a verbose man. It’s odd because he knows all of the science behind pregnancy and childbirth (Emma is a wonder woman), but he never could have imagined feeling how he feels. He didn’t always want children, his fear of being his father overwhelming him. It wasn’t something that he actively thought about, but then there was Milah and his love for her. They never got to that kind of future before things fell apart, but he realized that with the right partner, sometimes things shift and change.

And then he met Emma.

He met Emma, and even though they don’t have a traditional or straightforward relationship, she has changed absolutely everything in his life.

Now they’re having this child together, this child who he gets to be around from the beginning, and he doesn’t think he’s ever loved Emma more.

It’s not a second chance. No, that would be…wrong. It’s more like an old experience framed in a new light. There are similarities and differences, but everything is just as wonderful.

Except for Emma’s morning sickness, which seems to happen all day.

“If you don’t want to go, love, we can let Liam and Belle take Henry up there. They can tell him all about everything. They likely know it better than I do since it’s been so long since I’ve lived anywhere remotely near here.”

“Let’s,” she gulps, her cheeks puffing up for a moment, “ask Henry if he’d be okay for us to sit in the park while they go. I don’t think it’ll really mess with me since it’s not so much motion but…height. I’m not really sure. I just feel nauseous all the damn time.”

“It’s fine, Swan,” he tells her as he dips his head down and kisses her temple. “Liam,” he calls, reaching forward to grab his brother’s shoulder while Belle entertains Henry as he shows her the same toy ninja turtle that he’s been showing her for the entire trip.

“Yeah?”

“I think Emma and I are going to go sit down while you all ride, okay? She’s still not feeling well, and the height may make it worse.”

Liam’s brows furrow together, the lines on his face all concentrating in the center of his forehead, as his lips only slightly turn up into a sympathetic smile. “You okay, lass?”

“I’m fine,” Emma promises, even though he knows she’s lying. “You don’t mind taking Henry with you without us?”

“I don’t mind at all. I promise to point out everything that interests him. Henry,” Liam calls, and Henry stops talking to Belle as they both turn around to look at everyone, “your mum is still feeling a bit sick, so are you okay going on the ride with just me and Belle?”

Henry shrugs, holding up his ninja turtle doll. “Can I still take Leonardo?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’m good. Bye Momma.”

“Well don’t I feel special,” Emma laughs as she squats down to kiss Henry’s cheek. “Be good, okay?”

“Okay. Can we get something to eat when we come back down? Being in the air makes me hungry.”

Well that’s a new one.

“Yeah, kid, we can.”

He guides Emma over to the Jubilee Gardens. It’s crowded as any tourist attraction will be, but he manages to find them a place to sit in the shade under a canopy of trees, the August sun not shining nearly as brightly. They don’t have a sweater or blanket to spread out like most of the other people here, so he lays down on his back, hands crossed under his head, and let’s Emma rest her head on his stomach as she looks back over at the London Eye as if she can see Henry go up in the carriages.

“Still feeling sick?” he asks her as he moves his hands from behind his head so that he can mess with her hair, running his fingers through the strands of her hair while she closes her eyes, lashes landing against her freckle covered cheeks.

She’s so beautiful.

“Yeah, this kid of yours is going to be a killer. I can tell.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s great. Killian, this is a good thing. It’s what we wanted, and as much as I wish we could, we can’t change biology.”

“Aye,” he chuckles, working out a particularly nasty knot, “that’d be nice. I wish I could make it easier for you, especially since you’re having such a rough time right now. I mean, we can’t even tell anyone right now.”

“I’m kind of okay with that. It’s like our own little secret. It’s only us who know, and I don’t know – I like it. I like sharing something with you. I like not being bombarded with everything because you know the moment we tell everyone, they’ll never leave us alone. My mom, Marg David – ”

“Liam and Belle.”

“They’ll all go insane. Hell, even Ruby at work will be crazy.”

“Aye,” he laughs, beginning to twist her hair into a braid. “I imagine it’ll be quite the ordeal. Do you think Henry will take it well?”

“I don’t know. He’s been an only child for awhile, but he’s a good kid. I think he might be excited until he goes through the jealousy phase or whatever. We’ll have to make sure to look out for that.”

He hums in agreement and looks twists his head to the right to work out some of the kinks in his neck. There are people everywhere, conversations happening and laughter filling the air as much as the sounds of birds chirping, and he wonders how many of the people here are actually from London and how many are tourists. It doesn’t matter in the slightest, but it’s something he’s been noticing the past few days as his accent becomes heavier than it has been in years. He’s home, even if his home is both Brighton and Portland, and he finds a sense of comfort in all of this.

There’s a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, and he looks to see two men arguing, their hands quickly moving around as they talk. They’re both in tailored suits similar to what he wears to work, but he can tell that one of the men is uncomfortable in it. There’s something oddly familiar about the man whose back is facing him, and when he turns to the side, Killian’s stomach drops at the similar profile. He looks just like Neal, but it’s not. It can’t be. Neal is dead, and this is simply another man who shares his profile. It’s not as if there aren’t a lot of dark-headed men out there.

“You okay, babe?” Emma asks, twisting her head on his stomach to look up at him. “You just went silent.”

“I’m fine,” he promises, flashing her a smile and shaking his head from the sense of deja vu that just happened. “I was simply thinking about you and our little bug. I can’t even express how unbelievably happy that I am.”

Emma’s lips tug up into a grin, her eyes radiating softness. “I can’t either. I – ” Her eyes go wide, and she has to cover her mouth. “Oh shit. I’ve got to vomit.”

-/-

-/-

“You really don’t have to take that long to wrap presents,” Liam laughs, sitting down on the window seat while Killian carefully folds the wrapping paper into small corners so that Emma’s new yoga pants are all wrapped up.

“I like things a certain way,” he protests, placing a piece of tape on the package. “Emma uses far too much tape when she wraps things, so unless the presents are for me, and sometimes not even then, I wrap our gifts.”

“It also makes it easy for you to know if Henry has unwrapped them, aye?”

He chuckles at that, twisting his head to look at his brother so that he can smile at him. He doesn’t have that many more presents to wrap today, but he does still need to put ribbons on them. “He usually shakes them, which is not a good thing when there’s something breakable.”

“He sounds like a kid.”

“That he is.” He reaches down and picks up a box from the floor, quickly opening it to see that it’s a few pairs of shoes for Ada that are far too big for her now. He rather likes the little sneakers with the lady bugs on them, but he doesn’t want to imagine her running around in them yet. She’s just about to start crawling. He can’t think about running. “Do you and Belle ever think about it anymore? I know it’s an awkward subject but – ”

“But we talk,” Liam finishes for him, getting up from the seat and walking toward the wrapped packages, stringing out the ribbon. “I’m fine with you asking me. It’s a bit of a sensitive subject for Belle because we tried for so long and nothing happened. It’s been…heartbreaking, but we’ve been looking into adopting, not as some kind of consolation. We just…we want to be parents.”

His heart breaks and soars all at once, the mixture of emotions like a tennis ball being hit back and forth over the clay covered courts of Roland Garros. He knows of all of the sorrow and emotions that Liam and Belle have been through in trying to have a kid. It was something his brother kept private until he confessed it one night when Killian was talking about the struggles he and Emma were having, and in a bit of a melancholy way, it’s bonded them more.

In truth, a hell of a lot of their bonding has occurred because of situations that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

“That’s bloody wonderful,” he sighs, a happy smile on his face as he watches Liam tie a ribbon around a package. “How is it going?”

“Well. We have a – there’s a young lad, Caleb. He’s about two, and Belle is absolutely besotted with him. I am too, but Belle is terrified to talk about it for fear of something falling through. We have a few more meetings about it in January.”

He stops wrapping the shoes and takes a step toward his brother, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and holding on as tightly as he possibly can. He only gets his brother here, in person, for two more days, and he wants to savor these moments. He wants to savor getting to have every person he loves in one place. He wants to savor celebrating and comforting his brother in the steps of life that he’s taking.

“I am so damn happy for you guys.”

“Thank you,” Liam murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down Killian’s back. “I am too. I want to be this boy’s father so badly. I want Belle to get to be the mum she deserves to be. I…want.”

He understands that completely. He understands every bit of it, every word. And when he pulls back, he can see all of the understanding in Liam’s eyes too, especially when he squeezes his shoulder.

“It’s not the same because of the age difference, but when it’s right for you guys, you could likely talk to Emma. She was adopted. She understands what it’s like to be the kid on the other side of it. Or you could talk to Ruth.”

“I could also talk to you.”

He quirks his brow and sits down on the bed, all of the presents shifting with him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re Henry’s father, but you haven’t always been. You took him on when he was about Caleb’s age. You know what it’s like.”

“Henry is different,” he sighs, shaking his head back and forth while he tries to figure out how to articulate his thoughts. “It’s…I had Emma. Emma knew all of the ropes, had given Henry a fantastic life, and I came in when it was easier. What you’re doing is different.”

“In a way, but I think we’re both men who are trying to be fathers to kids who had their fathers taken from them. It doesn’t make us more honorable or better, but it is a different challenge.”

“Aye,” he agrees, looking up at Liam. He looks startlingly like their father, but he never has those dark memories when he looks at them. “Though we have bloody wonderful women who do everything much better than us.”

“Well, at least Emma with you, but that’s not too hard.” “Shut up, you wanker,” he chuckles, getting up from the bed. “Here we are having a nice moment and you have to ruin it.”

“What else are older brothers for?”

“A hell of a lot more than that.”

“Daddy,” Henry whines from outside the door, his little voice muffled because of the wood, “are you finished wrapping presents yet?”

“No, my boy,” he chuckles, waggling his brows across his forehead at Liam who has an absolute smirk on his face, “I’m not. What are you doing outside the door?”

“Waiting for presents.”

“You get to open them tomorrow.” “That is too long,” he groans, and Killian has to contain the belly laugh that is threatening to escape him. Henry can be patient but not when it comes to Santa getting to come and opening presents. It’s all far too exciting for him to contain himself.

He glances at Liam once more before walking toward the bedroom door and unlocking it, quickly opening the door as that Henry falls back with it, his arms barely stopping his head from hitting the ground. It wasn’t the most mature thing to do, but Henry’s laugh is worth it.

“Where is your mum?” he asks, lifting Henry up from the ground and practically dragging him away from the door. “Isn’t she supposed to be keeping you entertained?”

“She’s changing Ada’s diaper, and it smelled like fish.”

“Oi,” he grunts, using the muscles in his arms to throw Henry over his shoulder. He’s almost too big for this now. “It did not. You only say this because you don’t like fish.”

“I like the ones like Nemo. The others smell.”

“Mackerel doesn’t smell when I cook it.”

“Yes it does.”

“Liam,” he calls, swinging Henry around as he moves to the staircase, his brother coming into view from the bedroom, “do you like eating mackerel?”

“Every morning for breakfast so I don’t get scurvy.”

“Ewww,” Henry groans, squirming even though Killian now knows that Henry is seriously considering eating fish since Liam does it. “That’s gross.”

“It’s yummy.”

Henry continues to protest, and even though his bony limbs are hitting Killian, he carries him down the stairs and turns right into the kitchen where Emma and Belle are chatting while the gentle hum of Christmas carols play in the background. There are a few discarded ingredients for the breakfast they’re serving for everyone in the morning, a grilled cheese on the stove instead, and he makes the assumption that Emma must have gotten hungry now. Or that they’re waiting for he and Liam to come help cook.

“Hello, beautiful ladies,” he greets as he walks in with Henry. Emma rolls her eyes. Belle blushes. It’s all as usual. “I have found someone trying to sneak his way into looking at presents before tomorrow.”

Emma whistles low under her breath, the smallest of smirks forming at her lips. “Oh no, babe. Do you know what happens when people try to find out what their presents are early?”

“I do not,” he sing-songs, plopping Henry down on the floor next to Ada’s playmat.

“They have to eat fish for dinner.”

Henry squeals at the same time that he and Liam bark out nearly identical laughs, the room suddenly a loud mess of him, and he watches as Emma winks before turning back to the stove and moving her grilled cheese off of the pan. The cunning lass obviously heard their talk. She’s always been the greatest at thinking on her feet when it comes to Henry, whether it be trying to explain something in a way that he understands or simply doing something funny to make him laugh. Once she managed to explain not wasting water by comparing it to Henry’s baseball games, and he’s still never quite figured out that one. Or at least, how she made the comparison. But Henry doesn’t waste water now.

Bloody miracle worker, the woman.

“I promise I won’t look. I promise.”

“It’s okay,” Belle laughs, reaching over the counter and taking Henry’s hand in hers. “Santa knows that you’re a good boy.”

“What’s all this screaming?” Neal questions as he walks in the room, his voice filled with laughter even though the jovial feeling in the air dies a little in his presence. It’s not his fault. He’s an outsider looking in no matter how comfortable they try to make him. It’ll get better for him when Liam and Belle go home, but he thinks that Neal’s been stepping back a bit to give them all some time this week. It’s nice, but he doesn’t have to step back. This is his family too.

“I have to eat fish if I look at my presents early.”

“I’d say don’t look at your presents early then,” Neal laughs, pulling out the barstool next to Henry and sitting down. “Ems, what time is your family coming over?”

“Tonight? At six.”

He watches as Emma cuts her grilled cheese into four slices, popping one in her mouth and sliding the plate to Henry, letting him eat the meal she very obviously was preparing for herself but is instead giving to Henry. While she’s chewing her food, she squats down and picks Ada up from her play mat, blowing a loud kiss into Ada’s cheek that causes Ada to scream out a giggle. He doesn’t know how he ever stepped back from her, from this. He remembers life before Emma, remembers how everything was, but he doesn’t really want to remember a world where he didn’t love her. Where she didn’t love him.

He doesn’t want to remember a world where she isn’t the center of his life.

Maybe it’s the joyous atmosphere in the room that’s making him think about all of this. Maybe it’s that Neal is now talking to Henry and making him laugh while Henry eats his good, Belle and Liam joining in on their conversation. Maybe it’s that everything finally feels right.

He’s not sure if he’s ever loved Emma more than he does right now. He’s thought it before, said it before, and he’s sure he’ll say it again.

Every time it is said, it’s meant.

He’s infinitely glad that they’re getting things right again, that they’re trying again. He doesn’t know what he would do without Emma.

“You look like you’re thinking,” Emma mumbles as she walks over to him, handing him Ada when she stretches her chubby hands toward him, her fingers already trying to mess with his ears.

“Always, love,” he winks, smiling down at her.

“About what, though?” Emma prods, her hand resting on the middle of his back while she makes faces at Ada, her cheeks puffing up as she inhales air.

“You.”

“Oh, your daddy is trying to be a charmer,” she whispers to their daughter, her eyes only glancing up to him for the briefest of moments.

“Who says I was thinking good things?”

Emma scoffs, like what he’s said is the most unbelievable thing in the world. It kind of is.

He adjusts Ada in his arms, wondering again how she can be this big now or if he’ll ever get used to her growing. He most likely won’t. “I’ll tell you later, love,” he promises, leaning down to kiss the apple of her cheek and whispers in her ear, “I’m afraid I’ll scar the lot of them if I tell you what I was thinking just now.”

Emma’s cheeks immediately flush red, and she shakes her head back and forth, gently slapping his back. He wasn’t thinking anything dirty, but she doesn’t have to know that. He’ll tell her everything later. maybe he’ll even throw in some dirty thoughts.

“Alright,” Emma starts, clapping her hands together, “who wants to make some cookies for Santa?”

-/-

“Now that we’re alone,” he mumbles before he drags his teeth across her collarbone, her skin tasting of the slightest bit of salt, and he hears the gentle thud of Emma’s head hitting their bedroom door. He’s not particularly interested in that when he can hear her whimpers as he bites down on her skin. Her hips arch into his, and she deliciously brushes against where he’s beginning to strain. The slight friction is pleasurable, but it’s not enough. So he steps closer, caging her in, their hips rolling against each other while Emma is fully pressed up into the door, his hands above her while hers explore his back under his shirt, likely leaving red lines on his back.

“Ah, fuck,” she moans when he licks a slow stripe up her neck, and he can feel just how much she loves it with the way her nails dig into his skin.

“Such dirty words from such a pretty mouth,” he mumbles, making sure that his lips cover every inch of her skin that he has access to.”

“I’ve always had a bit of a sailor’s mouth on me.”

“Technically, you do have a sailor’s mouth on you. Quite literally”

She laughs, something deep and throaty, but it’s cancelled out by her own moan again when he gets to the spot on her ear that she likes. Her hips keep moving against his, rolling and teasing, and he can feel the pleasure and the tension build inch by wonderful inch.

“You’re an evil woman,” he continues, moving his hands down from the door so that the slide down her arms, landing at her body so that he can move them up under her shirt, not at all caring for propriety or patience as he feels the heavy weight of her breasts in her hands. “We have had family with us all evening,” he pants, not sure how much longer he can hold back. “They’re here to celebrate Christmas with us, with our children, and you spend the entire night with your hand far too high on my thigh.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sighs innocently, and he would pull back to look at her with a raised brow, but he’s particularly interested in working his way back down her neck, making sure to rub his scruff into her.

“You do,” he says simply, his voice strained even to his own ears. “You’re a minx and a tease, and don’t think I didn’t notice the way you made sure to stand with your ass just in front of my view as we put out the presents.”

“I was trying to speed up the progression of the song about Mommy kissing Santa Clause.”

It’s a bad joke, but he can’t help but laugh at it before hungrily slanting his lips over Emma’s, capturing her mouth in his as their teeth clank together and their tongues battle, a harshness that is not always there with them present tonight. She nips at his bottom lip, hard, before soothing it, and it’s that which has him moving his hands from her breasts and up under her ass, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist so that he can carry her. She does, their cores pressed together, and he doesn’t break the kiss if only so Emma won’t say anything about him hurting his back. He’s not going to, not tonight.

He wants to take things slow tonight, to let them savor things, to let Emma know of his thoughts earlier of just how much he loves her, but Emma’s in a mood that has them shredding their clothes and him taking her from behind, his pleasure far outweighing hers until he reaches between them and finds the slick flesh where they’re joined. Emma’s gasp comes from the back of her throat, is similar to what must be pure sin, and he wants to hear it over and over again.

They’re hurried the first time, the need for each other too much, but when Emma wakes him in the middle of the night, he deliberately paces them slowly, holding onto Emma’s hips as she moves above him, only the sound of skin against skin and the occasional odd sound outside filling the room. The pleasure builds slowly, steadily, and this time he tells her just how much he loves her and how much she means to him. This time he tells her that his entire world has revolved around her, that it wouldn’t work without her, and he has to grit his teeth to hold back his release all the while wiping his thumb underneath her eye to push away the stray tears.

And for the few hours that they do actually get to sleep the night, their bodies are so tightly pressed together that he’s barely sure which limbs belong to him.

They wake when there’s a knock on their door, the beats fast and lacking enough rhythm for him to know that it’s Henry. He laughs into Emma’s neck before kissing down her bare back, enjoying this last little moment before the chaos of the day begins. The sun hasn’t even risen yet, the moonlight still filtering through the curtains, but Christmas has officially begun.

“Happy Christmas, my love.”

“Merry Christmas,” she whispers back, twisting her head and kissing the corner of his lips. “We have about thirty seconds before he breaks that door down.”

“Mom,” Henry groans from outside, his knocks quieting, “you have to come outside so we can see what Santa brought me.”

“Just a minute, kid,” she laughs as the two of them quickly get up out of bed. He doesn’t know about Emma, but the headache forming in his right temple is going to kill him if he doesn’t get a nap today.

They make quick work of dressing in pajamas, Emma deftly pulling her hair into a braid so that it looks less like he spent the night fucking her, and even though they both definitely need to brush their teeth and wash their faces, they get to the door and open it to Henry standing outside practically vibrating out of his skin.

“Hey, Merry Christmas,” Emma greets, dipping down and pulling Henry into a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas,” Henry murmurs, pushing Emma back and practically running toward the staircase.

“Henry,” he calls out, and the kid comes to a complete stop, nearly slipping in his socks. “Have you noticed that anyone is missing?”

“Ada?” he shrugs, yanking at his shirt sleeve.

“What about your dad?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Why don’t you go wake him up?” Emma says calmly while tightening the string on her pants. “Gently. We don’t jump on his bed, okay?”

“I know. Don’t go downstairs without me.”

“Scout’s honor.” He reaches up to salute Henry as he runs off before turning to look at Emma who is still working on adjusting her pants, messing with the drawstring. For awhile he was worried about how slim she was getting with the stress of giving birth and Neal, and despite her still being a bit smaller than usual, she’s getting back to how she usually is. Her being less stressed is definitely helping. “Do you want to get the other kid or shall I?”

“Will you get her? I’ve got to pee.”

“Sure, love.”

Ada is already awake when he walks into the nursery, so he quickly picks her up, kissing her cheek before stepping over to the changing table and changing her diaper before snapping back her onesie. It makes her look like a reindeer, and he’ll never quite understand where Ruth finds these outfits. And he is sure that it’s Ruth that bought it. It practically has her name written all over it.

“It’s Christmas, my little love,” he coos to her, tapping his fingers on her cheek. She’s going to need to be fed soon, but he hopes that she makes it through opening a few presents so Emma doesn’t have to miss that with Henry. “I think Santa came to visit you and your brother.”

“Come on, Dad,” he hears Henry plead, and when he walks out into the hallway, he sees Henry tugging Neal down the hallway.

“What time is it, kid?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

The chuckle that passes through his lips can’t be stopped, and he flashes Neal a bit of a sympathetic smile. They warned him about this last night, but it doesn’t really hit until you’ve gotten no sleep and have to be enthusiastic for an eight-year-old.

“Morning,” Neal mumbles, flashing him a sleepy smile. “Do you think Santa left coffee under the tree?”

“God I hope so.”

Santa didn’t, but he did leave Henry several movies and toys, the house now full of a spike ball set and several scientific kits that he’s sure will make a mess. He doesn’t know why he bought those now that he thinks about it. They should have found things less messy. But it’s a riot watching Henry tear through the few gifts, especially when he gets to some of the art kits and storybooks that Neal bought him. He’s so excited about them that he practically smothers his father in a hug, jumping up on him and telling him all about the pictures he’s going to draw and stories he’s going to write with them. The smile on Neal’s face is one of a proud dad, and something settles in Killian’s heart then while he sits on the floor next to Emma with the two of them letting Ada rip at wrapping paper and chew on some of the little toys she’s collected herself.

His son has an extra person to love him, truly love him, and even though Neal is not his favorite person in the world anymore, he could be for how he loves Henry.

“What’s this?” Henry asks, holding up a small piece of paper. “Why does it say to go outside?”

“Maybe there’s a present out there that we can’t bring inside?”

“Like a car?”

“No,” Emma laughs, rising from the ground, holding out her hand for him as he brings Ada up with him, “not a car, but maybe something with wheels.”

Henry’s already squealing by the time they get outside, his new bike on proud display with a giant bow on it, and the lad is going on and on about having to shovel the snow so that he can ride it. it’s an ambitious plan, one that’s not going to work, but they’re not going to bring down his high this morning. He can have this.

Liam and Belle show up at the front door around nine, and all of the Nolans come in just behind them, Leo immediately running toward Henry so they can talk about their haul this morning. He and Emma make a conscious effort not to give Henry too much and to make sure that he understands everyone isn’t as fortunate as him, and while Killian thinks that Henry gets that, he does get excited to talk about his things with his cousin.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Ruth sighs, hugging him with her small frame.

“Hello, beautiful,” he whispers as he kisses her cheek. “Are you ready for your grandchildren to wreak chaos on you?”

“This is every grandmother’s dream, don’t you know that?”

“I thought every grandmother’s dream was to make me gain ten pounds so that I don’t fit in my suits anymore,” David laughs, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Just because I make the food doesn’t mean you have to eat it, David.” “Mom, you know that it does. Emma,” David calls, looking over to Emma who’s just handed Ada off to Mary Margaret, “if Mom cooks, can we simply not eat the food?”

“We have to eat the food. Mostly because it’s good but really because Mom passive aggressively tortures us if we don’t eat all of her collards.”

“I do not.”

“You do, Ruth,” Mary Margaret starts. “One time I didn’t finish a panini you made me, and I swear you glared at me for weeks.”

“This is why I always finished everything you cooked me,” Neal says as he sips on his coffee.

“I cooked for you one time.”

“Yeah, don’t be a suck up, Cassidy,” Emma teases, winking over at him. “And I distinctly remember you complaining about the carrots when you never complain about anything.”

“Just throw me under the bus, why don’t you?”

“I try.”

“Belle, darling,” Liam laughs as Killian moves to start setting up breakfast for everyone, laying a sausage casserole onto the island, “are you terrified of eating anything Ruth has made now?”

“I’m shaking in my actual boots.”

“All I do is love all of you kids, and this is what I get in return,” Ruth huffs, sitting down on a barstool.

“I love you,” he tells her, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles, laying the charm on as thick as he can.

“Look who’s a suck up now,” Emma announces, opening the oven to check on the biscuits. It’s a pity he missed out on those for the first twelve years of his life. “It’s almost like you’re trying to impress her so that you can date her daughter.”

“Well, I hate to break it to the sweet Miss Nolan, but I did already knock her daughter up.”

“You’re pregnant,” Mary Margaret squeals, and his stomach does some kind of unnatural twist.

“Uh, n-no,” Emma stutters, holding her hands up while he can tell that she’s trying to find her words and regulate her breathing, her chest moving up and down the slightest bit. “I’m definitely not pregnant.”

“Oh, but Killian said – ”

“It was a poor choice of words, love,” he promises, not sure where to look. He doesn’t want to look at Liam and Belle, knowing this must be an awkward situation for them that can’t be pleasant and not wanting to look at Neal either since Killian is technically talking about sleeping with the man’s ex-wife. Emma’s not a great option either, especially since she’s going to murder him later, so he settles on Ruth who is looking at him with her lips pressed together as she shakes her head from side to side. “Emma is not pregnant. The only baby I was referring to is Ada.”

“So you can calm down, hon,” David says to Mary Margaret, squeezing her shoulder and kissing the top of her head.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Marg,” Emma assures her, flashing her a tight smile and bopping Ada on the nose.

“It would have been some way to announce it, though,” Belle laughs, her features relaxed, “since you have actual buns in the oven.”

“Mom,” Leo yells from the living room, and practically everyone turns to look at him, “when are we going to eat?”

“After you wash your hands.”

“I already did.”

“You haven’t left that room.”

Leo huffs, dropping the ball he was holding, before he turns to Henry and very loudly whispers, “we don’t actually have to wash our hands. If we turn the water on, they think we do.”

“So no one touch anything that Leo touches,” David announces, and even though it’s a bit funny, he makes a note to make sure to check that Henry is washing his hands.

Even though he tries to catalog the entire morning, it goes by much quicker than he could possibly imagine as everyone spreads throughout the living room to eat far more than necessary, the sounds of the Polar Express on in the background to keep Leo and Henry entertained since they can’t open the presents Ruth brought them quite yet. But they do eventually get to open them, and of course, once everything starts to calm down, the chatter not quite as insistent, Ada has a meltdown. Her little face turns as red as a tomato, and she wails and wails with nothing soothing her but having him walk her back and forth down the upstairs hallway away from everyone else.

By the time it’s two in the afternoon, all of the Nolans have left, and Neal has gone to take a nap, grumbling about not being used to this early thing on his days off. Killian gets it, which is exactly why after having gotten Ada to sleep in her crib, he wanders downstairs and stretches out on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table while Emma leans into his side.

“I’m tired,” she laments, nuzzling her head a little further into his chest.

“Well, you are with child,” Liam jokes from his spot on the loveseat.

“I hate you.”

“You love me, birdie.”

“Possibly. I definitely love Belle, though.”

“Damn right,” Belle agrees, sitting up and crossing her legs underneath her.

“Darling,” he starts, resting his cheek against her temple while his fingers tap against the back of the couch, “don’t hurt Liam’s feelings. He doesn’t have many friends, so he really needs you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Hey, language. Where’s Henry?”

“In his room, babe,” Emma laughs, patting his stomach, “so Belle and Liam can curse as much as they want to.”

“The walls are not that thick.”

“I would bloody hope that they are. Otherwise your children would be subjected to some noises that Killian makes that are not so pleasant.”

If he wasn’t too tired to move and didn’t have Emma resting on top of him, he’d…who is he kidding? He’s not going to get up and punch his brother or toss throw pillows at him for making a cheap joke about how Killian sounds during sex.

“You have the maturity of a fifteen-year-old.”

Liam shrugs. “It keeps me young.”

“If the wrinkles on your face are any indication, you need it.”

“Oh my gosh,” Emma laughs, slapping his stomach again. he grabs her hand and pulls it to his lips, kissing each knuckle before placing it on his chest with his hand resting over hers. “You two are ridiculous.”

“And yet the two of you chose to be with us.”

He watches Belle pat Liam on his cheek, a smirk painted on her face. “We married far below our level.”

[distant-rose]

Oreos at One-Thirty

Notes: Today is the two-year anniversary of the Little Pirates series. That’s right. On August 16th, 2017, I published the first installment of the series By the Hook. It’s insane to me to think I’ve been writing for this series so long and I couldn’t have done it without the amazing support of all my readers. While the first installment focused on Killian and Beth, I decided to celebrate the series by writing about Emma and Wes today. Thank you for everything and a special thank you to @optomisticgirl for constantly letting me spam her about this dumb ass universe. She’s a trooper. Summary: It’s the middle of the night and one of Emma Swan’s kids is out of bed. She’s not going to stand for this. Word Count: 2,500+ Rating: T

It was 1:30 in the morning when the stairs gave a small whine. It was a faint noise, one that most people wouldn’t notice.

But Emma Swan wasn’t most people.

She had never been the most peaceful of sleepers. The slightest of sounds had the tendency of waking her up, one of the many leftovers from living on the streets and staying in stolen hotel rooms. While a few of her habits from that time had faded, her light-sleeping habits seemed only be more honed with the birth of her children.

She laid there in her bed, ears straining for more movement and her hand automatically reaching for her nightstand where she hid her pistol. She would like to think that no one in Storybrooke would have the balls to attack her family in their home in the middle of the night, but with the number of villains and curses she had dealt with over the past couple of decades, she wasn’t willing to chance it. She glanced over at her husband, debating whether or not she should wake him. He was snoring away, completely unaware of the stirrings in their house, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to rob him of his sleep after some many late-night shifts at the station.

Her decision was made for her when there was another creak from the stairway, one that was only made when someone was putting their weight on the bottom step. She scowled in the dark.

There was no intruder in her house.

Someone was out of bed.

Muttering curses under her breath, she crawled out of the warmth of her own bed. Killian mumbled something in his sleep before shifting in the warm spot she had left behind and grasping at her pillow. If she wasn’t so annoyed with their kids, she would have smiled at the sight.

As she headed down the stairs, blue and white light danced across the walls followed by the faint chiming music of an advertisement for Old Spice. As she got halfway down, the identity of her little miscreant was revealed.

Her twelve-year old son was on her couch, watching television and stuffing not one, not two, not three but four Oreos into his mouth all at once.

“You got to be kidding me!”

Wes jumped at the sound of her voice, tipping over the large glass of milk he had been cradling in his elbow and sending the packet of cookies flying into the air. Emma’s mood only soured as she watched the mess spread across her leather couch and drip onto her brand new and very expensive carpet that she and Killian had bought two days ago.

“Uhhhhh…hi Mom…fancy seeing you here…” He scrambled a bit, looking around frantically for something before grabbing a half-eaten Oreo off the floor and holding it out to her. “Cookie?”

She gave him an unimpressed look, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms in front of her chest as she regarded him. His blue eyes darted between her and the Oreo in his outstretched hand.

“What? Don’t believe in the five-second rule?”

“Westley.”

“I can get you a new cookie. It’s no big deal.”

“Westley Graham.”

“But it would be a total waste of a cookie and you know what Grandma Snow always says — waste not, want not.”

“Kid, it’s two in the morning.”

“Actually, it’s one thirty-two, so you’re—”

“Your bedtime is eight-thirty,” she cut him off, rubbing at her temples as her irritation with him rose.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Really? You do? So, you’re not actually here? You’re upstairs like you were supposed to be for the last six hours and I’m just hallucinating right now? I’m not actually witnessing you out of bed and destroying my furniture?”

“No, I’m here. I did actually go to bed at eight-thirty like you wanted…I just woke up and got bored. It’s not like we have a mandatory wake-up time.”

“You’re supposed stay in bed until six-thirty…” Emma replied through gritted teeth. Wes raised his eyebrows at her, looking disturbingly like Killian whenever he was feeling particularly obstinate.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“When?”

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and mentally counted to ten to keep from screaming. When she looked back at her son, he was watching her with an expression that was caught between wary and amused. She was going to kill him.

“I’m saying it right now. Seriously. Kid, if you don't pick up that mess you’ve made of my living room and get your ass back in bed, so help me, I will tan your hide!"

“I’m pretty sure the law frowns upon child abuse.”

“Oh kid, you’re forgetting one teeny tiny detail, I am the law. Get some paper towels. Now.”

Catching her thunderous expression, Wes scrambled off the couch and headed into the kitchen. She was mildly impressed with how fast he was able to move on those skinny toothpick legs of his.

Emma let out a sigh, trying not to think about the ruined rug. Everything in her house was in a state of disrepair. The coffee table had watermarks on it. The couch had been broken more times than she could count. Even the television had small dents and scratches on the screen from the time Beth and Neddy had a lightsaber match that had gotten out of hand. What difference did it make that the brand new rug now had stains on it?

While waiting for her son to come back with paper towels, she went to work picking up the leftover Oreo crumbles on the couch. She deposited them in the empty side of the plastic container before sitting down on the dry side of the couch and turning her attention to the television. Her interest piqued as Dataline crossed the screen, detailing the disappearance of a young woman from Texas.

“They think her boyfriend did it,” Wes commented as he returned.

“What?”

“Christina Morris,” he replied, nodding his head towards the television. “They think her boyfriend kidnapped her. They’re not sure if he killed her or if he took her in Mexico or something.”

“Grim,” Emma remarked absently, picking up the last Oreo and biting it.

“Totally.”

“What the hell are you doing watching this in the middle of the night? You’re going to get nightmares from this stuff.”

“As if I don’t already have nightmares anyway,” he replied, not looking at her as he went about cleaning up the spilled milk.

Her anger and irritation melted away at his words, giving away to concern. She patted the place beside her. Wes hesitated, looking conflicted as he placed the soiled paper towels on the coffee table.

“Come here.”

He climbed onto the couch, placing some space between them. Emma was having none of it, pulling him by the shoulders and guiding his head into her lap like she often did when he was a much smaller boy and afraid of the dark. She brushed her fingers through his thick blond hair, frowning as she looked down at him.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“What’s got you so shaken up?”

“It’s just…” He trailed off, averting his eyes and swallowing his words.

“Wes…It’s better to talk about it.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m your mom, kid. I wiped your bottom when you were baby. Nothing gets more embarrassing than that.”

“Mom, c’mon,” he whined, turning on his side and pressing his face into her stomach. She didn’t press him any further. Even when he was a baby, he had never responded well to being pushed into things. He had inherited both her and Killian’s stubbornness in tenfold. Getting him to do anything when he was a toddler had been absolute nightmare and he had only gotten slightly better in age, replacing tantrums with a defiant look and firmly stated “no.”

So, she did what she felt was best in these type of situations. She waited for him to open up to her, continuing to run stroke his hair and watched what was left of the Dataline episode on her TV screen.  They were showing interviews with Christina’s suspect boyfriend before Wes mumbled something against her clothed belly, his breath warming the fabric.

“What was that?” she asked, pausing her ministrations.

“Clowns.”

“Clown?”

“Clowns,” he repeated. “You know like killer clowns. Like in that movie, you know, It?”

Emma shuddered. She remembered the Stephen King novel vividly. She had read it back in when she was in prison and had nothing but time on her hands. It had given her nightmares as well.  She was aware it had been turned into a movie a couple of times, but horror movies had never been her thing and she had little desire to actually watch it. She had found the story to be disturbing at eighteen, she couldn’t imagine how terrifying it was to a twelve-year old. He shouldn't be watching or reading things like that.

“Wait a minute,” she frowned, coming to a realization. “How do you know about It?”

“Henry!” Wes replied a little too quickly.

“You, Westley Graham Jones, are a liar and a terrible one at that,” Emma said pointedly, giving him a tired glare. “One, Henry hates horror movies... and possibly killer clowns more than you do. Two, he would never in a million years let you watch something like that. So, tell me the truth this time.”

“Okay, okay, okay. Just promise me you won’t get mad?”

“I’m making no such promises. Seriously, Wes. The truth.”

He let out a heavy dramatic sigh. He was becoming more and more moody as he had gotten older. He was going to be a nightmare teenager. Emma was sure of it.

“Gideon and I snuck into a showing of it during Halloween. He said if I didn’t it would be because I’m scared, and I’m not scared of anything—”

“Except clowns,” Emma cut him off. “Wes, that’s an R rated movie. Gideon is fourteen and even he’s not old enough to watch those kinds of movies. You certainly aren’t. There are ratings on things for a reason.”

“It’s just a movie,” he scowled at her.

“Yeah. A movie that scared you badly enough that you’re having nightmares and are up at all hours of the night feasting on Oreos,” she replied, looking at the demolished empty container. “Your father is going to kill you. His sweet tooth is almost as bad as yours.”

“So? You can just buy more.”

“You think money grows on trees, don’t you?” she asked, unimpressed with his answer.

“Well, money is made from paper and paper comes trees so there’s that.”

“Smart ass kid.”

“Better than being a dumb ass.”

“God, you’re so my kid it hurts sometimes,” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.

He was staring up at her with that impish little grin that seemed to have permanent residence on his face since the time he could walk. He was a good kid though, even if he did sometimes eat all the Oreos and wake her up at all hours of the night. Out of her five children, Wes was the most like her; a little rough around the edges and sometimes a little too smart with his mouth, but he was never malicious. He was just a little too defensive and wanting to prove to be people he was tough. She had been the same at his age.

She wanted to soften those edges. Hers had been bore out of a need to survive; they had been necessary to endure group homes, bullies, being homeless, being in prison and then later as the Savior. Wes didn’t need them. Nothing was going to happen to him, not while she was still breathing.

“You know it’s okay to be scared right?” she asked after a moment.

“What?”

“Being scared of things. It’s normal.”

He scoffed at her words. “You’re not scared of anything.”

“That’s not true,” she sighed. “Want to know a little secret?”

He nodded wordlessly in response.

“I get scared a lot,” she admitted. “I get scared all the time of things – villains, bills, that I’m not being a good mom—”

“But you’re the best!” Wes protested, cutting her off.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, let me finish,” she responded gently. “The point is sometimes I get scared, but the important thing is to not let it control you. Sometimes fear is a healthy thing, but it shouldn’t paralyze you and stop you from doing things…Do you understand me?”

“Yeah…I guess…” He looked unsure.

“Do you know what makes me feel better when I’m scared…Knowing that I have your dad…and Henry…and your grandparents…and even Regina...I just know that having them in my life makes me stronger and that I’m not alone…and you know what, kid? You’re not alone either…you have all of us and even your brothers and sister.”

“I’m not trusting Neddy to fight off bad guys. He’s barely toilet trained.”

“Oh, stop, he’s fine. A little accident here and there isn’t bad. Give him a break.”

“He peed on my bed, Mom.”

“Like I said accidents happen. He’s not gonna be little forever. He might be even bigger than you and Har someday.”

“Yeah right,” he scoffed.

“All kidding aside, it’s okay to get scared but you can’t let it control you and your sleep schedule…”

“I know, I just…I’m not ready to go back to sleep yet.”

“And that’s okay…We can stay down here for a little bit and watch some TV but not all night, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, batting his forehead against her hand. She chuckled quietly to herself as she resumed stroking his hair. He reminded her a bit of the stray dog she used to feed back when she was in Boston, starved for food and attention.

A new episode of Dateline started, and Emma watched it half-heartedly. Her attention was more focused on the droopy-eyed boy in her lap. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier as the minutes passed. He was asleep a good few minutes into the episode. She debated quietly whether or not she should wake him so he could sleep properly in his bed but loathed the idea of waking him up again.

She placed a brief kiss on his forehead before gingerly removing his head from her lap and placing a decorative pillow underneath it. She picked up one of the various throw blankets that were strewn carelessly across the floor and tucked him in. She left the television on, wanting to give him some source of light just in case Pennywise the Clown haunted his dreams again and woke him up. It was one of the few things she craved when she awoke from nightmares, being able to see her surroundings and make sure she was safe. She could only imagine that he might desire the same thing.

As she slipped back into bed, Killian wrapped an arm around her waist. He pulled her close and nuzzled his nose against her neck.

“You’re back,” he mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah. I’m surprised you’re awake.”

“You really think I was going to sleep without you in our bed, love?”

“Well…with the way you were snoring…”

“Hey now,” he muttered in mock offense, nudging her foot with his. “Wes back in bed?”

“You know it was him?”

“Educated guess really. He’s our biggest night owl.”

“He had a nightmare. He and Gideon have been sneaking into R rated movies.”

“We’re going to have to watch him. If anyone is going to be throwing secret keggers, it’s going to be him,” Killian commented.

“Probably, but let’s worry about that when he’s a teenager and not at two in the morning. Right now, I just want to go sleep.”

“Alright, love,” he chuckled before placing a kiss behind her ear. “Pleasant dreams.”

“Yeah, no clowns hopefully."

[bscarz]

Bill, a mysterious prisoner with ‘supernatural’ abilities finally meets his angel.

CASTLE ROCK- INSPIRED ONE SHOT, AU. 

Bill Skarsgård x OFC.

WARNINGS: SMUT

The cold air nips harshly at my nose, however, my body is warm due to the heat the blanket provided. I sigh as I eye the raindrops racing down the window, looking out into the dark neighbourhood, waiting for my father to come home.

It wasn’t late in the evening at all, but the winter had sent the sky into darkness prematurely. I liked the winter, I just didn’t like the uncertainty of it. Some days were colder, some days were warmer. I was never a fan of not knowing what came next; it would make my anxiety spiral out of control. My dad always laughed at me for it; the fact that I always wanted to know everything.

The sound of an engine could be heard from down the street, making me lean forward to get a better look at the outside. Two bright lights were coming up my driveway and I released a breath, feeling a lot better knowing that my dad was home.

I discarded the blanket and made my way to the door, gripping the edge of my sleeves. I was quicker than my dad, opening the front door as soon as I heard his keys. His eyes widened in surprise, not expecting my presence, but a warm smile soon replaced his shock.

“Honey, were you waiting for me?” He asked, closing the door behind him. I nodded shyly, feeling stupid for not doing something better with my time. My father only laughed though, hugging me in the process.

“Gosh, you worry too much.” He stated.

“Sorry for caring.” I teased.

I follow my father into the kitchen, opening up a drawer and grabbing out the cutlery for dinner. “I have to tell you about this boy I met today,” he says as he opens the oven. “He’s young- about 23, and has been in prison for only a few months.”

I place the plates on the table, nodding along to my dad. “What’s he in for?”

“See that’s the thing, he hasn’t done anything particularly.” He explains, scratching the stubble around his chin. “There have been numerous unknown deaths in the past few months, The Kid’s been linked to each person.”

“But there’s no proof?” I ask. “How can he be in prison then?”

My father pats my head lightly, laughing at my inquisitiveness. “One question at a time, petal.” He teases, “Each death has been mysterious, no one knows how these people died… The Kid just happened to be linked to it all, I guess.”

“Are you saying he could be innocent?”

“Maybe. I don’t know too much about it, petal. I’m only there to do my services.”

I smile brightly at my father. Pride warms my body as I look at the kind-hearted man. My father loved to help out as much as he could, so when the opportunity came for him to read bible passages to prisoners, he was elated by the offer. After his office job, my father would drive to Shawshank and speak to the prisoners about God, not once judging their character.

“I’m proud of you, Dad.”

“Thank you.” He replies, smiling back at me. “However, I do need some help. The Kid is quite young, he doesn't take old dogs like me too seriously.” He chuckles, as he cuts into his roast. “I was wondering if you could maybe write him a letter… you know, make him feel less alone considering everyone is quite old at Shawshank.”

“Like a pen-pal?”

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that.” He replied. “I don’t want him to be isolated. He’s very quiet so I think some communication is good… Maybe I’ll bring you in to meet him one day... when I know it’s safe.” He added.

“Of course, Dad. I’d love to help.” I smile.

“That’s my girl.”

———

I sat with my legs crossed on the pink bedding, staring aimlessly out the window again. My father had gone to bed, leaving me to my own devices. I glance down at the paper in front of me, wondering what I should write to ‘The Kid’. I knew nothing about him, and I had nothing to say about myself. All I knew is that he could be innocent, or he could be a serial killer that has caused numerous unknown deaths, like a modern-day Devil. I shiver at the thought, scolding myself for jumping to an awful conclusion. I grab the pen off my side desk and write anything that comes to mind.

Hello,

My name is Emily. My father, Jacob, visits the prison quite frequently to read Bible verses to the people. He was intrigued by your presence. There aren’t a lot of youngsters at Shawshank. He asked me to write to you, so you didn't feel alone. I know what it’s like to be the odd one out amongst a group of people, it’s not fun, but you don’t have to worry, because I can talk to you.

I don’t have much to say, besides the fact that I am 19. I live with my father and we both enjoy reading, music, and all the other basic stuff.

You might not be religious, but I suggest you see my father for Bible reading sessions. I don’t want to force religion onto you, but I don't think religion has to do with believing God not; it’s about believing forgiveness, kindness, and most of all redemption.

I hope to hear back from you soon. I wish you the best of luck.

Emily.

I click the top of the pen, reading the letter over and over again, wondering if it was good enough or not. I glanced at the clock beside me and shuffled under the covers. I grabbed the envelope off my nightstand and placed the letter inside, deciding that it was good enough. I had to remember that The Kid was only young, and he could be innocent; he needs some type of communication. Isolation only drives a person crazy, and no one deserves to be alone.

I sink my head into my pillow; my heart felt so much better when I closed my eyes, knowing that I could be helping someone out there. I enter a curious dream, imagining the boy within the prison walls.

———

It had been ten days since I gave the letter to my dad, and finally, I got a reply.

The envelope was shaking in my hand, I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, but my heart was beating rapidly against my rib cage. I ran up the stairs and into the privacy of my room, ripping open the envelope and staring at the folded paper in my hands. I wanted to read it but I was still too nervous.

Once I was seated comfortably on my bed, I unfolded the letter and began to read the note in front of me. I gawked at the cursive handwriting on the letter, shocked at the elegance of it all. I leaned back onto my pillow and read the letter numerous times, processing every word on the page.

Dear Emily.

I am not surprised that I stood out to your father. I doubt it’s my age that caught his eye, but rather my reluctance to engage in any activities he had set. I am not one for reading, but your letter made the exception.

I do not fear isolation. Thank you for your concern, but I crave the feeling of being alone. I am not a fan of crowds or people, for that matter. I only enjoy company when it provides me with pleasure, however, I doubt you know what that means.

If you want me to engage in Bible reading, maybe you could come down and read a few verses to me. That’s the only way I’ll consider anything like forgiveness, kindness, or, your favourite, redemption.

I hope that I will be an acquaintance soon.

Bill.

I shuddered at the words in front of me, unsure of how I should feel about the letter that I had been impatiently waiting for. One part of me was intrigued by his mystery, the other part of me thought he was teasing. Either way, I was determined this time to meet Bill. I always loved talking about the importance of redemption and forgiveness, and if Bill would consider these things over a meet up then I’d be more than happy to see him.

I race down the stairs, eager to see my father; ready to tell him my plan.

———

I walk the long, cold halls of Shawshank, my body shaking with nerves. I try my hardest not to let my fear show as I march behind an officer.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take a lot of convincing for me to read the Bible with Bill. My father talked to a few of the coordinators and they deemed the visit as safe. I was excited that I was able to meet the mysterious man, however, my gut feeling told me that he wasn’t as innocent and harmless as perceived. Something told me that this man was a replica of The Devil, and I couldn’t seem to shake that feeling off.

“Right this way, Miss.” The officer says, guiding me to a room at the end of the hall.

I step inside with the officer next to me, and spot two chairs and a table. I turn my head to the side and find another door opening, an officer walks into a room holding someone by the arm. The stranger is dressed in a white top and blue over-shirt, towering over everyone in the room. The man diverts his eyes from the floor and looks at me; my eyes widen at his appearance.

It took me a second too long to realise that the man in front of me was Bill. I had endless visions of how he would look, and I had never pictured him to look like this. Despite his frail frame, from a lack of eating I assumed, the man was absolutely gorgeous. He had shaggy brown hair that framed his face perfectly, plump lips and wide green eyes. He smirked at me, causing me to cease my staring. I tug at the ends of my white dress, feeling exposed under his eyes, even though it was the most modest thing in my closet.

“You have half an hour.” The other officer says to Bill, however, Bill doesn’t even acknowledge his presence, his eyes are still lingering on me.

The other officer leaves as I walk towards the table, sitting opposite Bill. The officer that lead me to the room stands outside the door. Usually, I should feel frightened by the predicament, however, the cuffs around Bill’s wrists give me a sense of relief.

“Um…” I begin, looking down at the Bible in front of me. Bill hasn’t once taken his eyes off me. I fidget in my spot, nervously brushing a few strands of brown hair behind my ear. Bill chuckles as my clammy hands try to find a page within the book. My searching is stopped, however, when a large hand reaches over and engulfs mine.

“Don’t bother,” He states huskily; his voice deeper than I excepted it to me. “I don’t want to hear that shit.”

I look up at him confused, “But you said-“

“I lied.” He interjected, smirking at my confusion.

“What do you want from me then?” I questioned. Feeling stupid and hurt.

Bill leaned back in his chair. “I just wanted to see you is all... Wanted to see if I was right” He mumbled... “And my, my, you’re better than expected. It was worth the wait.”

I blushed profusely at his words, again, looking down to avoid his stare.

“I don’t know how to help you then.”

He chuckled darkly at my statement. “You think I want help? That I want redemption?” He teased. “You’re mistaken, little girl. I don’t want change.”

I gulped at his cynical words, annoyed that my mission to preach kindness was already set for failure. “You sound like The Devil,” I whispered.

“I’m not The Devil.” He smirked. “The Devil was an Angel once. The Devil had his motives, I have none.” He stated. “I do things because I want to.”

I shuddered, grabbing the book in front of me and standing up from the chair. There was no way I was going to sit with this man. As I was about to leave the table, I feel a hand grab my wrist. I quickly spin around; Bill now looming over me. Our bodies are so close that I cower away from him in fear, however, the link between my wrist and his hand radiates a magnetic hold. I struggle to understand how I could feel sparks shoot up my arm and around the rest of my body. Bill’s eyes avert to our hold and I sense that he can feel the connection too.

Our link is separated, however, as the Officers run into the room, grabbing Bill by the shoulders and dragging him out the door. I look down at my wrist, shuddering at the loss of connection. 

“Are you alright, Miss?” The officer asks, yet all I do is nod, distracted by the mysterious man and his powerful touch.

———

“Call it a blessing.” My father laughed as he picked at his salad. It had been one week since my visit with Bill. I came home from school, thoughts of the stranger finally leaving my mind, only to be receiving news from my father about his release from prison.

“I don’t understand.” I stammer, staring blankly at the table. “He just got into prison… and now he’s out?”

“Yes, darling.” My father replied. “There was not enough evidence for him to be in there. It’s unethical to keep someone away with no substantial proof.”

“I agree. I just find it odd, is all.” I whispered, picking at the food with my fork.

“Honey,” He smiled. “Maybe you helped him. Maybe you taught him the power of compassion.”

“I doubt it.”

“Then what do you think it is, hm?” He asked.

“I would call it The Devil’s work.”

———

There were numerous reasons as to why it was difficult for me to get any shut-eye. Firstly, the flash of light that illuminated the room every ten seconds from the lightning was much more fascinating to look at. Secondly, the combination of the torrential rain and harsh wind had ruined any chance of silence; And lastly, Bill was released from prison, and that thought could not escape my head.

I might not ever see him again, and although I should be delighted by the fact, I was also upset. I was curious about him, I wanted to know more, and now my questions would never be answered.

A bolt of lightning interrupted my thoughts, illuminating the room for a second and then submerging it into total darkness. My heart beat started to accelerate as the room began to radiate off an ominous feel. I felt like I was being watched, like I was not alone. I stiffened in my bed, pulling the blankets higher up my body. I closed my eyes tightly, hearing a loud bang from outside.

When I open my eyes again, I realise I’m not alone. Standing at the end of my bed was Bill, still clad in his white shirt, slacks and runners. His hair was now slicked back due to the rain. I open my mouth to scream but he is quicker than me, rushing towards the bed and covering my mouth.

“Don’t you dare scream,” He threatened.

I nod my head obligingly, feeling some sort of relief that the stranger was Bill and not someone completely unknown. He slowly releases his hand, studying me while I try to create some distance between us on the bed.

“How did you get in here?” I question, pulling my knees up to my chin and cradling myself. The window wasn’t even open, there was no scientific explanation behind his visit.

“I have my ways,” He teased, sitting up from the bed and stalking towards the window, looking out into the distance.

“How do you even know where I live?” I whisper, watching Bill move aimlessly around my room.

“Don’t be silly.” He mocked, picking up a snow globe off my chest of drawers, “You did write me a letter, Emily.”

“Yes but I never-“

“Enough.” He stated. “You ask too many questions.”

“You never answer any of them.”

“Touché” He smirked, turning around from the chest of drawers. I felt so exposed and little as he stood at the end of my bed, slowly stalking towards me.

“I know you felt it too,” He whispered, as he grabbed the blankets and lightly tugged them off me. I shivered in response, crossing my arms and trying to cover myself. “There’s no point in denying it. Our touch ignites.”

“Please,” I beg, whimpering. “What do you want from me?”

“I just want to touch… An Angel.”

“What?” I questioned, my eyes widening as he sat at the edge of my bed, placing his hand on my leg. “You’re making no sense,” I stammered, however, I could not deny the spark that ricocheted from his touch. It seemed supernatural; the connection we had; An Angel and The Devil…

“You like it when I touch you.” He confirmed, “Daddy’s good, little virgin girl.” He chuckled, “But with me… you’re begging to be touched.”

I felt his hands slowly crawl up my legs, pulling down my pyjama pants until I was clad in nothing but my black underwear, from the waist down. In reality, I should be screaming or kicking him off, but somehow, I felt frozen in place. I couldn’t cease his actions, I just stared at him quietly watching his every move with anticipation.

“What am I doing?” I whispered, more to myself than to Bill. It felt like I was under a spell; Bill always seemed to have a hypnotic vibe. I slowly leant back on my bed, laying my head on my pillow and closing my eyes, still feeling his hand crawling up the skin of my thighs.

“Just… let me. I knew I’d find you…” He murmured. His words confused me, but his touch was too distracting. His cold fingers hooked around the top of my underwear, slowly pulling the fabric down my legs. My eyes were squeezed close, heart beating out of my chest, and yet I still couldn’t tell Bill to stop, his touch felt too intoxicating.

I stiffened as I felt his fingers trace the edge of my folds. I fidgeted on the bed as his fingers began to toy with my centre, toes curling at the action. “A taste… of the Angel.” He whispered, moving back on the bed and spreading my legs with his big hands.

“What?” I questioned, confused by his words, yet all thoughts were halted as I felt Bill lean down between my legs, his tongue flicking out and over my clitoris. I shivered at the sensation, so foreign to me yet so alluring. He licked a long stipe over my sensitive nub and then blew cold air over the area.

“Just let me,” He whispered before nuzzling his face between my legs. I trembled at the sensation, shifting on the bed and bucking my hips up. His whole mouth was over my sex, tongue delving deep into me, licking all around my clitoris. I could feel his rough stubble against my thighs, making me clench my legs together as I felt a shiver erupt through my body. I withered at the feeling of his tongue making circles on my sensitive nub, slowly picking up the pace.

“Oh… Bill,” I whispered brokenly, my stomach knotting at the sensation of his tongue. I felt a fire burn in the pit of my stomach, beginning to make my body convulse. I was confused as to what was happening to me, my body felt like it was getting out of control.

“So beautiful…” He mumbled, picking up his pace, causing my hips to push against his face, rolling myself into his mouth.

“What’s happening to me…?” I cried. My eyes were rolling into the back of my head, mouth agape as a soft whine left my lips. I could feel sweat dripping down my forehead as I pushed the bottom of my body up, tensing all over as a strong feeling began to overwhelm my body. Warmth pooled in my centre as I snapped my eyes shut, whimpering as my stomach tightened. Instantly, all the pressure released, like an explosion. My back arched as I reached down and fisted Bill’s hair with my hands, pushing his face gently towards me as I rode out the wave of pleasure. I could feel my thighs becoming wetter as Bill never ceased his movements, lapping at the moisture between my legs.

I slowly let go of Bill’s hair as I laid back, breathing heavy as I came down from my high. My eyes were still sealed shut, legs clenched together as I rested my head to the side, wondering what just happened to me.

“It’s an orgasm,” Bill explained, cutting the silence. I fluttered my eyes open, letting out broken breaths as I watched him stand from the bed, noticing the bulge in his pants and the fierce look in his eyes.

Bill slowly walked towards me, sitting down next to me this time, and gently stroking the hair away from my face. “I want to be touched by The Angel,” he breathed, leaning in and gently kissing me on the lips. Again, the spark between us was ignited, creating an even bigger flame than before. I still couldn't work out how a simple touch between two strangers could feel so magnetic, but I didn’t question it, the feeling was too good.

I scooted over as Bill got on the bed, pulling off his shirt hastily and unzipping his pants, clad in nothing but his boxers; my eyes curiously exploring every inch of naked skin. I shyly put my fingers on his chest, tracing the hard skin. Bill placed his hand over mine, gently guiding it towards his boxers. My fingers skimmed past the hair above his erection, reaching the fabric of his underwear and slipping my fingers underneath it.

I had never touched a man before, so I was quite nervous and unsure at what I was doing, however, I was too intoxicated by the moment to break the spell, so my nimble fingers traced the skin of his length as I curled my hand around him and slowly moved up and down. Bill released a deep breath, eyes closing as I continued my movements. For once, I was the powerful one, and he was becoming weak at my touch. The ego boost made me move a little quicker, loving the sounds of broken whimpers leaving his mouth.

“More pressure,” He stated, as I curled my hand tighter around him, gently tugging back and forth. My thumb brushed over the tip of his erection, eliciting a hiss from Bill’s mouth. I took that as a sign that he liked my touch, and gently brushed my thumb around the whole tip, never ceasing my tugging.

“My angel…” He rasped, closing his eyes and rolling his head backwards. Spontaneously, I pushed myself up, moving down the bed and tugging down his boxers. Just as Bill was about to crane his head from the bed, I leant forward and licked the tip of his penis with my tongue. “Fuck,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in my hair as I continued to leave licks and small kisses on him. My hand was tugging at a faster rate now, hoping to make Bill feel what I had felt not too long ago.

I fluttered my eyes up, seeing Bill with his eyes closed shut and jaw clenching by my actions, soon his body started to spasm, muscles tensing as he let out a shaky moan, releasing himself like I had done a few moments prior. Moisture squirted out of him, and I quickly retreated myself, confused at the substance around me. I still tugged on Bill gently, not sure when to stop or not, waiting for him to release everything.

Once he was done with his ‘orgasm’, I gently retreated my hand from his length, lying back down next to him, watching his chest rise and fall as he tried to regain his breath.

Bill rolled his head to the side, looking at me in the eyes as he nuzzled his nose into my shoulder. Slowly, he brought his lips to mine, kissing me passionately in the bed. He reached down and grabbed the blanket, throwing it over us as he continued kissing me. 

“I waited so long for you…” He whispered, kissing from my cheek to my neck.

One of his hands glided down my arm, intertwining his hand with mine. Our connection was stronger than ever. The living Devil and Angel finally found each other, becoming one, as I closed my eyes and fell fast asleep within his arms.

[chillassimagines]

Guide (John Young Smut)

(This is LENGTHY, John has like no smuts/imagines, so hopefully this starts it off on a good note)

(REQUESTED)

“I won’t endanger everyone like that, Y/N.” John stated bluntly, tossing through files on Jedikiah’s desk. You crinkled your brows together, focusing your super hearing on anything outside of the office.

“What do you mean? It’s a good idea, you know that Stephen is a genius.” He paused and looked up from the papers to give you a hard stare.

“If Stephen is such a genius maybe you should have him lead us.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Maybe I should.” You muttered and turned on your heel away from him. His sexy face annoyed the hell out of you.

“Stop pouting.” He ordered. His temper was going to reach the end of its fuse and you kind of didn’t mind. You were stubborn and so was he. You sat in an office chair and crossed your legs, tapping your foot in midair, keeping yourself from verbally attacking him. He carried on, searching for any information that may valuable. However, the darkness nighttime brought wasn’t proving to be an ally.

“Maybe should’ve brought a flashlight.” You couldn’t hold your spiteful tongue.

“Who suggested that? Your genius, Stephen?” He spoke in a clipped tone, not sparing you a glance.

“No, I actually have my own mind, yanno? You just never pay attention when I actually suggest other things. You’ll listen to your toy, Cara, though.” You let your voice fall off in your last sentence. John didn’t need super hearing to hear it though.

“You leave her out of this.” He demanded. He clenched his jaw in anger, defining his killer jaw. He looked so good when he was mad. Maybe that’s why you subconsciously always had the motive to piss him off.

“Why? You feel like you owe her your silence or something? It’s pretty obvious you guys used to fuck.” You shrugged.

“I don’t owe her a damn thing, but I respect her, so I won’t tolerate you talking shit.” He raised an eyebrow at you, daring you to challenge him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious who you respect and who you don’t.” You directed your eyes to your nails. You heard shuffling before you looked up and he was standing in front of you.

“I respect women who know how to use their mouths, Y/N.” Your heart skipped a beat and you knew if there was water in your mouth you would have done a spit take. However, your mouth suddenly felt as dry as a deserted island. You gathered yourself suprisingly quickly, seizing the moment.

“I don’t know if I know how to do that quite yet, maybe you could solve our little problem?” John’s hand came to grip the back of your head as he leant down to crush your mouths together. You used his shoulders to pull yourself up from the chair and into his warm body. He hurriedly pushed you up against the wall, taking control of the situation.

“First, you need to be on your knees.” He whispered against your swollen mouth. You nodded, willing to please him immediately. You dropped to your knees, bringing the top of his pants and briefs down with you. “You look good like this.” John’s chest was heaving as he looked down at you.

“Bet I can look even better.” You ran your tongue along the underside of his cock, agonizingly slow. He hissed through his grinding teeth.

“C’mon, I know you can do better.” He pleaded. You wrapped your mouth around him and pushed your head forward, you hands gripping his legs for balance. John clenched his fists and you noticed he wasn’t sure of what he could do. You took his hand and led it to your head. The action made him thrust his length further into your mouth. You gladly accepted his lust and moved at a nice pace, not forgetting to use your tongue as well as following his hands’ movements.

“Y/N, can I cum?” He groaned out. This surprised you. You assumed he would take what he wanted and be dominant, but he asked. You gasped for air as you released his cock from your mouth.

“Of course you can.” You said sweetly. He bit his lip and dragged your lips back onto him. You hummed contently around him and hollowed out your cheeks so you would be squeezing him.

“Holy, sh-shit.” He thrusted sloppily into your mouth before sending his cum into your throat. You glided your tongue to the tip of his member before rising off of your knees. He rested his forehead onto yours, breathing hard still.

“Lay down.” John jumped, so that you were now in your bedroom and he was guiding you to your bed. You followed his orders and watched him kick off his bottoms and strip himself of his shirt before pulling down your bottoms as well. His fingers hooked into your purple panties before slowly dragging them down your legs. The anticipation only grew when he kissed the tops of your thighs.

“John...please.” You begged, wanting him to do anything to nourish the aching between your thighs. He smirked before nudging them apart to let him see you in all of your naked glory.

“You’re...really wet.” He spoke in awe of you. You fidgeted a bit and it snapped him out of it. He took his thumb and spread your pussy out wide and blew softly onto it. Your body responded in a shiver and you whimpered.

“I can’t take it.” You nearly didn’t say it out loud, but the guy was torturing you. He hummed against your thigh, pressing kisses up...up...

“Oh yes you can. You can take all I’m willing to give and I know it.” There’s the dominant side you knew you’d find. He extended his tongue of out his mouth and ran it up your lips slowly. You bucked your hips up, yearning for his wet tongue to stay with you.

“If you don’t do anything, John, I swear to god I’m gonna-oh-oh shit!” He sucked harshly on your clit suddenly, sending sparks into your tummy. He groaned into your heat and his eyes sparkled up at you. He dragged his tongue to your entrance and pushed it in and out at a fast pace. His fingers came up to your stomach, but slowly dragged down to your clit and he began his sweet assault on your bundle of nerves.

“Oh my god! That feels so good, please don’t stop.” You gasped, rambling pleas and whines of approval. John immediately removed his tongue from your entrance and began flicking his tongue on your clit. Your jaw dropped and your hips began rocking against his face and he didn’t seem to be bothered.

“I’m close, I’m so close, I promise.” You nearly squealed and you could tell he liked it, because he squeezed your ass and put your thighs around his head. He was drowning in you willingly. “Thank you.” You cried out as you reached your climax and locked your thighs around his head. You released him from your thighs’ death grip and he came up for air.

“You are certainly welcome, but I’m not done yet” Your eyes widened as he got on his knees on the bed and ran his hot member along your soaked lips. “You ready?” He asked. You nodded and grabbed his hand before he pushed all the way inside of you, bottoming out. He squeezed his eyes shut and grunted. “You’re so tight, you’re gonna make me cum too fast.”

“Well I’m not gonna wait around forever.” You smiled and he chuckled before pulling back and thrusting in again. As he set the pace he was using different angles until he hit your g-spot.

“You were trying to find it, weren’t you?” You gasped out in pleasure as he hit it again, confirming your suspicions. He brought his face to rest in the crook of your neck.

“Gotta find it if I’m gonna make you cum again.” He whispered hotly in your ear. He was a man with a mission and as his pace sped up you could tell he was getting close, but he wasn’t going to leave you hanging.

“Almost, John. Just a bit more.” You hissed in his ear before grasping onto his back as he snapped his hips into yours. He damn near growled, because he was teetering on the edge. He made one last final blow to your spot and it was game over.

~

“Did you learn how to use your mouth now?” John asked, looking at you in the mirror before placing a love bite on your neck.

“You’re a very good guide.” You responded with a grin and a laugh. He held your waist and didn’t let go.

“I’m keeping you, I hope you know that.” He whispered. You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[samaraclegane]

Hannigram- #2 and/Or #7

author’s note: cut to that ancient, dead meme of the ‘why not both girl’. hope I do you justice, anon!

2: “I hate you so much.” “We both know that’s not true.”

7: “You deserve better.” “Better doesn’t want me.”

-hannibal is sick.

-not biologically, ‘i’ve got a cold and it’s something i’ll get over’ sick, but actually, medically, clinically, psychologically sick.

-the dark truths will had come to learn about his psychiatrist had left him reeling. if this twisted person had been the one guiding him for so long, where did that leave him? was he evil? was his moral compass now askew?

-then came the anger. will despised hannibal, and all of his evil actions. the murderous psychopath always acted with an air of dance, like an elegant angel descending from heaven.

-now will knew this was partly true, only hannibal was more likely to be struck and cast out of heaven than enabled graceful flight.

-will, in this blind rage, had launched an attack on hannibal. after all, he couldn’t think of a single good thing hannibal had done, just for the sake of being a good samaritan.

-he’d helped abigail, but only to better his own position and hold leverage above not only her but those who had grown to care about her, too.

-on top of this, he’d drugged her, and hid the body of a boy she’d brutally murdered (as much as will adored her and saw himself in her, nicholas boyle had been undeniably, categorically butchered).

-he’s murdered countless innocents and, not to mention, he’d taken to not disposing of the bodies, but feeding them to unsuspecting accomplices.

-the thought of hannibal knocked him biologically sick to his stomach, and, seeing as he was already in the office of the crazed man, he couldn’t hold back the thoughts leaping from his mouth into the quiet room.

-”you… you’re pure evil.” he began, staring incredulously at hannibal, who was still sat down, cross-legged, as though they were simply in another therapy session. “you’re the devil. maybe you’re even worse.”

-hannibal eyed him, looked him up and down, then with a voice so irritatingly calm that it made will want to scratch his eyes out of his skull said, “i should hardly think a person is either purely good, or purely bad.”

-will marveled at him. just how could he be so apathetic?

-”you’re something else. you’re not a person; you’re a snake. you’ve slipped your way into so many lives, now you’re just waiting to destroy them.” 

-his tone was as accusatory as he intended it to be and then some. the vile creature before him tilted its head, seemingly registering everything about him in a millisecond, then it smirked at him, knowing he would continue speaking next.

-his ramblings, to his dismay, continued predictably.

-”have i ever really known you? or am i part of your scheme, too? maybe you’ll kill me next. i do know everything, after all.”

-hannibal, finally, had the grace to stand up and approach him. not too close, else will might have attacked him, but close enough that the scent of his fine cologne wafted over to will and infiltrated his nostrils. he shuddered.

-”i have never intended to kill you, will. you’re far too much fun alive. waht are you worth to me dead?”

-the ambiguity of the statement knocked will sick. he furrowed his brow, grimacing, and turned his head away, looking towards the window.

-”i hate you.”

-hannibal barely sucked in a breath before he countered, “no, you don’t.”

-will suddenly felt vulnerable, like a chill had run ice-cold through his bones. he had begun to question himself, but this was what hannibal did, wasn’t it? he made you question yourself until you agreed with him. that just couldn’t happen - not this time.

-”i hate you so much.”

-will couldn’t meet the piercing eye of hannibal. much like medusa, he knew this would seal his fate, and he’d be turned not to stone, but to clay, which he was more afraid of. this made him malleable, pliable, a plaything for hannibal to toy with. 

-the older man took another couple of steps forwards, not too fast but so swiftly that, before will had time to react, he was right in front of him. he coyly looked up from the suede shoes to the killer’s eyes. they were closer than will would have thought he’d have liked to be, but he found himself not making any move to back away.

-”we both know that’s not true.”

-the monster had its hands on will before the agent could react. it carefully took his face in its hands, forcing him to look at it, then ran its cold fingers down his throat before deftly leaning down and sealing its lips around his.

-hannibal’s mouth, will noticed, was the only part of him that was not cold. he could imagine that his heart was the coldest organ in him, but even he had to admit that the warmth wasn’t entirely unwelcome. it was only the host that he did not favour.

-will, to his surprise, was not the first to push away. hannibal held him by the shoulder and pried himself off of him, leaving his lips once more empty, and is conscience even more so. 

-there was a look in hannibal’s eyes that struck something within will. he looked almost sorrowful as he watched the younger man, then will saw more clearly when they met eyes. he was… guilty.

-”i’m sorry, will,” he sounded sincere, “you deserve better.”

-images flashed before will’s eyes of all of his failed romances. alana, most of all, who had practically called him an experiment, and who he now knew felt next to - if not exactly - nothing for him.

-he let out a bemused sigh and, against his better judgement, will let himself fall head-first into hannibal’s problematic self.

-”better doesn’t want me.”

-will was bewitched. the unthinkable had happened, and now he was underneath the wicken’s curse, and he would undoubtedly do anything he wanted him to.

-however, some depraved, perverted part of will’s being whispered to him that he really didn’t mind that at all.