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cinnamoon-roll2 · 4 months

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The Famished Doctor and Their Devoted Ghost

Danny takes on a new murder case for the Roseville Gazette that people presume is his, but he's never taken the organs of his victims. His curiosity gnaws at him, he needs to know who is this new homicidal partner he shares the town with, and who is this new girl that's making him doubt about his future plans.

Chapter 4: Could you be him?

Chapter summary: How a little trip to the hardware store turn into this fucking problem.

Chapter Trigger Warnings: explicit mention of murder, cannibalism and violence, Danny feeling like a diva at murder, Danny and Reader being themselves, author loves using Hannibal references.

Wc: 3,9K

AO3 Link. Previous

Taglist: @mariamyousef702 , @weaponxgames

A small trail of smoke left her lips, she felt the beginnings of a numbness in her backside, she continued to whirl the subject in her head, she swore that if she sighed again, she was going to kill herself.

She was in her home office, she had an L-shaped desk in the corner with few inches away window with a perfect view of the main street of the neighbourhood, the desk chair she had was neither the most uncomfortable nor the most comfortable, it was useful and that was enough for her. She moved her gaze to the frames on the walls, some were dissected butterflies or moths, some dissected tarantulas as well, simple paintings.

She turned away from the window and scanned the room for ideas, keeping her ciggie lit between two of her fingers, she liked the herbal smell the smoke left behind, that day she had made the ciggie with lavender and mint, a peculiar combination, a bitter and fresh taste, that smoke that generated a small burning in the throat because of the mint it had.

She rested her attentive gaze on the pair of moths she had in a painting of Actis Lunas, a male and female specimen, they were really beautiful, that greenish colour, lighter in the male than in the female, also possessing less detail than the females, even so, both specimens were very interesting to her, she had obtained them, as well as the rest of the paintings of dissected insects, from an acquaintance of hers. It was one of the many contacts she had made in this shadowy world of crime and murder.

Sometimes she dreamed of finding that specimen who would accompany her in this crazy life she had, she longed for that specimen who would wait for her at home, who would love her, even if she was her own crazy persona, a woman not quite in accordance with her time, who would not mind her diet, who would love her, she didn't care who she was, she just wanted sometimes to leave that loneliness behind.

She felt the ashes of her ciggy start to fall on her trousers, it was time to take another drag and stop thinking about feeling pity for the way of life she had chosen, sometimes she felt that that famous phrase was right, murder becomes addictive like a drug that consumes you slowly until it causes irreversible damage, she inhaled deeply taking a large amount of smoke in her system, that burning intensified because of the strong mint concentrate, she exhaled the smoke a while later.

Tired of smoking that cigarette, she smashed the lit part of it into her ashtray. She stretched a bit before getting up from her chair, she thundered her back and looked at the desk again, there was a small list of possible subjects she could give Ghostface, she had many names, she could already imagine how her dark circles under her eyes would grow bigger.

She started to head to her bedroom, she had to take a shower, go out to eat or prepare something, that kidney and liver omelette had been exquisite for her breakfast, but she felt her appetite was building up as it was almost 1 o'clock in the afternoon. She noticed her reflection in the mirror that was attached to the wardrobe that included the house, she was getting tired of having to hide her hair, the dye she used was too expensive not to show it, she should take note that for her next identity she should make the excuse that she had dyed hair and be able to show it.

She reached up to the top of the bathing cap she wore to sleep, she liked to observe the gradient from black to blue that she had done herself on her hair, it was her best work on herself, she still remembered the burning of her hair when she bleached it to get that perfect shade.

She stripped off her clothes and went to the shower. She took her time in the shower, reapplying her hair care products and lovingly scrubbed her body with the blue freesia soap, it was one of her favourite scents. She lasted at least 10 minutes in there.

What she planned to do that day was an excellent question for that moment. She had to organize a couple of things from her basement, first she needed to put that cream that helped her to keep the dye easier, the downside was that it stained everything it touched, so she had on her dressing table ready the bathing cap she was going to put on later. She always took great care in the application of the product, and with the cap and the product on she set off to the dark, damp, and gloomy basement that she had called refuge more than one night.

If she wanted to go back to her old butchering days, she had to have everything well-ordered in her basement, she didn't want to have accidents like the one in Texas again, she did nothing but regret her mistakes. Goddammit, what was wrong with her brain that day reminding her of her biggest mistakes in her life, she damned the brain she had. She grimaced as she found the pair of boxes that after almost two months she still hadn't unpacked, you might wonder what was in these boxes, they were butchering tools that she used whenever s|he could bring a calf, lamb, or rabbit home so to take advantage of the whole animal.

Why hadn't she mentioned a piglet or pig at all? She disliked them entirely, pork was very harsh, very contaminated with thousands of micro-organisms that could cause you many problems, cysticercosis as an example, those little worms so complicated to treat, she still remembers with disgust the first time she had treated a case of worms in a toddler, she almost dropped the child from disgust if she hadn't left them in the cradle they were in and called the paediatrician. Pigs were disgusting as was everything that came with them.

Perhaps it was a reflection on her hatred of animals and policemen, perhaps why she was thinking about it as she took out the meat grinder she liked to use for her cold meat products from its respective plastic box, she didn't know, sometimes she had these philosophical monologues comparing people to animals, Hannibal did it when he presented his dinners to his guests, one of her favourite scenes was based on that.

She continued to place the grinder on the table she had in one of the corners of the basement, it was easy to set up, she just needed to get the suction on it so it wouldn't move while she was working on it. She continued unloading more tools and machines that she used during her butchering process, whilst she was doing this, she noticed a funny little thing, she had forgotten something particularly important, the damn knife rack. Damn bad luck for her, at this time of the day she would have to go to a hardware store to get a shelf to put the knives on, she didn't want to leave them in the knife rack, she knew that they could have some kind of fungus or microorganism living on them by leaving them there in a locked place when they could still have blood or some liquid on them, how disgusting it made her think about it, her mysophobia was very big from time to time.

She grunted angrily and lazily, she didn't want to go out, her body still ached from Monday, the mini beating she had received was still taking its toll on her body, she was still feeling the tiredness of so much frenetic movement that night, normally sometimes she did think that the years took into account in her life, even though she was only 26 there were days when she felt like she was twice as old or 30.

She decided first to finish tidying everything and leave the knives she used in the packaging where she brought them, but while she went upstairs to get her wig that she normally wore and the clothes she would wear that day to go out, sometimes it bothered her a lot about the wig, but it was to keep a low profile and the clothes she could think of her that tender and sweet style when she really wanted to dress like herself that dark style, you could say totally from the postpunk era. Looking at the mirror in her room she noticed that it did look like Lunas was the one in the mirror and not Fanny. Feeling ready she went to get the keys to her car, a beautiful black Cadillac from the 80s (sometimes she felt like a pimp in that car so typical of them), started the engine and drove to the hardware store.

Danny was proud of what he had done that Monday, well it would also include the early hours of Tuesday morning since the situation was so extended, he had broken the other killer in town plus he had managed to take pictures from afar of their appearance, that gave him too many bonus points at work, the new cannibal killer caught on camera for the first time thanks to Jed Olsen, if he already had his ego sky high from his own crimes imagine how he would be now, how he loved to be him. He already had some drafts on how he was going to announce it next day in the Roseville gazette about the so famous doctor Famine Mori, his forensic friend had announced that they had found that card there so now the raven had a name and it was Famine as it was going to be named, it was a very strange name, but well he literally called himself ghost face he couldn't judge much either.

However he was still very angry about the fact that he had not been able to kill his victim he had a little idea in his mind through something else a more daring story go to a public place at hours that wasn't too crowded kill whoever he found there leave some pictures and leave it would be fun to talk about how it seemed very jovial to be skipping around while walking around wherever he was going to do this.

Unfortunately, on Monday his knife had received several scratches which meant that he was possibly going to need a trip to the hardware store, it wouldn't hurt him, perhaps this could be the beautiful setting for his next evil deed. He knew that by now, specifically 6:00 in the evening, a majority of Roseville would either be asleep or locked up because of the curfew the police had suggested so that they would not be attacked by his person, yet the curfew was ineffective that did not prevent him from going to the homes of his victims and killing them inside their own residences.

He prepared himself by seeking out the outfit he normally wore for his second job, that long trench coat he wore over his button down shirt that had a harness clipped in front holding spare hunting knives, by the cargo style trousers with several useful pockets to hold his two cameras and the photos that came out of his instant camera and spare rolls for his digital camera, Both had their own usefulness, the instant camera was the easiest to use to leave souvenirs for the police and the digital camera had its own memories that he unveiled in his own darkroom made in his flat, his military style boots, very useful for running and durable for the amount of time he used them during his hunts.

He pulled a black hoodie over his trench coat to conceal it, while also putting on his hood to hide the mask he was putting on over his hair. He checked every detail to make sure he had what he needed, his two spare knives, the cameras, the keys to the apartment, seeing that everything was ready he went to get his car keys.

After a while he arrived at the hardware store, he saw the logo with lights, EPA, what a stupid name, but it was the closest and less visited hardware store in the city, excellent for the occasion, he took note that there were two other cars in the car park, that meant that there was a great possibility that in addition to whoever was attending the cashier there would be 2 to 3 people in the store, also the more numbers the more victims, more photos, more fame, more art for his collection.

When he entered, he grabbed a shopping cart, he took the information that there was only one cashier on that shift, excellent, he began to walk through the aisles, he saw that there was a couple choosing lights in an aisle, that discarded the passengers of the first car, now he was missing those of the second car.

No, not that one, it's too big, no, not that one either, the mesh is not the right one, that colour of wood she didn't like. Famine was too critical when it came to buying decorations or materials to use in her hobby, therefore, she analysed each of the options of where she could place her knives, maybe she could get creative and create the stand herself, magnets, a bit of wood and it would be ready. If that was what she was going to do, she went to get the materials she needed-wood, grey tape, magnets, and the rest she had at home.

She got distracted and started to wander around the aisles, she really enjoyed looking at some of the hand tools she used, how long had it been since she changed her saw she had, which she sometimes used to split bones more easily. She was deep inside her world so much that she didn't even notice the little rumble that sounded a few corridors back, to be exact in the corridor of the lights, she didn't know that the stranger in the mask was already starting to do his thing, he was starting to play at discovering the inside of others, he was starting to discover the interesting and attractive crimson colour that came out of people.

Danny sighed victoriously as he saw how easy it had been to finish with the couple, he only had to push the girl away and attack her throat leaving her unable to scream, the thump that sounded when he dropped her attracted the boyfriend who received a similar fate. He had the little idea of playing with their guts and entangling them together, placing them together like the lovers they were, you could say he was a talented artist at slashing.

He took three instant photos of them and some on his digital camera and left them scattered around the heart of blood he had drawn, he hoped he could find the person or persons he was missing from the shop, he kept pulling the shopping cart happily, playing with making a rhythm with his fingers on the handle of the cart, he took advantage of having taken a hunting knife to attack at that moment, if he was going to buy it he had to give it a try too. He liked to feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins slowly, he could compare the feeling to how an addict felt after using breaking his withdrawal, that relief, that satisfaction, my god how much he loved it, he could live his whole life with that feeling running through him.

Those blue eyes had been mesmerised by a collection of frying pans in the kitchen aisle, non-stick, they stood up to a lot and didn't scratch easily, it wasn't a whim, she needed them in her kitchen. Where was her self-control, she didn't know, whenever she went to the shops, she always went for one thing and ended up with about four in her hands, luckily, she had picked up a trolley on the way in. The nursing job paid well for her experience, she could spoil herself a little bit by taking those pans, as she bent down to pick up the box where the collection came, Those blue eyes had been hypnotised by a collection of frying pans in the kitchen aisle, non-stick, they stood up to a lot and didn't scratch easily, it wasn't a whim, she needed them in her kitchen. Where was her self-control, she didn't know, whenever she went to the shops, she always went for one thing and ended up with about four in her hands, luckily, she had picked up a trolley on the way in. The nursing job paid well for her experience, she could indulge herself a little bit by taking those frying pans, as she bent down to pick up the box where the collection came, she saw similar boots in the next aisle, she noticed the haematic colour on the left side, shit, shit, what the hell was going on, it couldn't be good.

She took what she needed from the cart and took silent steps away from the place, for safety she was going to go to the final aisle of the shop, where the furniture store was, she could hide between the boxes, she lengthened her steps when she heard the faint voice that passed through that machine that distorted it, if it was him, fuck, it was him, he was in the middle of a machine that was distorting it, Yes it was him, fuck, she was fucked, she was fucked, hell was taking her in those moments, she accelerated even more, trying to maintain stealth, she was glad to see her goal, she approached the mattresses section, she could get into the back of the mattresses and that's what she did. She had to make herself small, almost in a foetus position, she hid her purchases with her as well. She held her breath as she heard how he had gotten there too.

Danny swore he heard someone here, he had left the trolley one aisle over, the footsteps were almost imperceptible, but he had his sense of hearing well trained, he checked the places he felt someone might be hiding, however, to no avail there was no one among the boxes, the furniture, and he doubted anyone would fit between the mattresses there, he decided to call it a loss, or it was the same cashier who had passed by and returned to his post quickly.

It was time to finish his work and go for the final dish, he walked happily to the cashier, he placed his items on the conveyor belt of this, the employee was not even paying attention to him until he saw the box with the bloody knife, there he finally looked up and saw him with that terror so satisfying, so pleasant.

He stabbed him fast in his carotid, and once more in his back he took some pictures near him, in some he only saw the body, in others he was in front posing with it, he looked great in those. He took the rope and tape that he had bought that evening, threw the money for the purchase together with some photographs. He walked out of the store victorious.

Fanny was still hiding, she felt that time was turning into centuries in the brief time she had been hiding in that small place. She took the courage to come out of her hiding place, why hadn't she brought her knife rack with her from the beginning, why had she come out today, why, why, why, why did it have to be her. She walked with her guard up, she saw a trail of blood that led her to the corridor of lights. She wasn't ready for what was there, something that not even she as the sadistic cannibal that she could commit, it was wonderful, he was wonderful, he was that specimen she was looking for, she needed him, she needed someone who understood her crimes, she needed to make him want her, she needed, needed, needed him.

She was beginning to feel that hunger, that hunger for blood, that hunger to attack. That Wendigo hidden in her was asking to come out, asking only to exist and leave behind her attempts to live as someone she was not.

She shook her head to get out of those thoughts, she should never let them win, she went to the cashier with the face of wanting to kill himself that she had seen when she entered, she found him in a better state than the couple. She had no choice but to function as the innocent victim, a poor disgraced soul who got caught up in all this.

She had to ring the bell that attracted the pigs to check the mess in the barn, to be attended by the sheep that came in that big box where the blue piglets asked her what she had seen, how she was doing while she cried like a scared little lamb, wishing she had someone near her to keep misfortune from happening in her life.

Oh, poor sweet, innocent nurse who only went to buy a tiny home improvement and ended up being an indirect victim of this malevolent Ghostface. Poor, poor lassie.

Jed almost spats out his morning espresso when he heard there was a survivor of a Ghostface attack, it wasn't possible, who were they, he had to kill them or use them in his stories. But the most important thing was how the hell he hadn't found them yesterday, now his boss had sent him to interview them, he had to go and pick up the information from the witness at the reception, which meant having to greet Martha, that woman who flirted with him as if there was no tomorrow, he didn't understand a no as an answer, how tiring to deal with her.

He sighed with hatred and growled under his breath, as he approached the main desk of the gazette, he created a fake smile as he approached Martha.

"Hello, Miss Morrison, the boss is sending me to get the papers from yesterday's witness, could you hand them over to me." He spoke with that fake cheerfulness that could come to act so well in front of others. He was disgusted to hear the woman tell him in that sweet false flirtatious tone that she was going to get them for him and not to move her beautiful body.

Yes, he heard those desperate cries to kill someone, yes, they're coming from Danny who's stuck inside Jed somewhere in the back of his mind. He had to calm down before he did something stupid.

"Here you go Mr. Olsen, I hope you do well with the poor little lady, I don't want to imagine how you felt that day without having some strong man to protect you." Was that an innuendo, yes, had he got it, yes, was he going to pretend he didn't understand shit, of course he fucking would.

"Thank you, Miss Morrison, I'll see you when I get back." He said goodbye cordially as he slyly fled the scene, how he hated those kinds of women who didn't understand a no for good and then complain about a man applying the same thing to them.

As he walked along, he began to read the file, realizing who this mysterious survivor was who had been spared from his hands. Now he had choked on his coffee, the victim was his muse, the shining star he wished to possess, was that a good thing or was it going to affect the plan he had for the woman. He felt excited, was this a sign that his plan would go well or that he would have to make modifications, was this an invitation to pay the girl nightly visits.

Oh, so many ideas, for now he had to go and interview her, he had to make her like Jed, the romantic story of "I fell in love with the one who would kill me later", yeah very romantic for his portfolio of stories for his next job, he would like to go to Montana, Las Vegas, or somewhere in California sometime, he had hardly been to the west coast, he was always closer to the east coast.

He sighed, looking at the red lights of the local Roseville clinic, it was time to interview, time to act, time to be someone he wasn't.

#danny johnson x reader #dbd x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface dead by daylight #dead by daylight ghostface #danny jed olsen johnson #danny johnson #ghostface dbd #dbd ghostface #slasher x reader #slashers #ghostface x you #ghostface scream #dbd fanfic #dbd x female reader #dbd x you #dbd danny johnson

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hearts-hunger · 2 years

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no strings attached — part three

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Series Playlist ♫

⮡ part one | part two

Series Summary: The destination wedding of a high school friend brings you and Jake together for the first time since graduation. Can you make it though a long weekend without killing each other, or worse, falling head over heels in love?

Chapter Summary: You and Jake are careless with each other, but isn't that what you've always been best at?

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Reader [+ Sam x Danny, Josh x OC] | Genre: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, mutual pining | Word Count: 4.7k | Chapter Warnings: drinking

A/N: I know it's been a while but we're back, babey!! I'm excited to see what you guys think of this chapter with all its little twists and turns. I hope you like it! ♡

The sun was starting to sink behind the mountains when you made it back to your cabin, and you stood on the porch, huddled in Jake’s jacket, unable to open the door. You heard him inside — it sounded like he was pacing. Your hand flinched at the doorknob, and you tried to gather the courage to turn it.

Finally, after what seemed like both an eternity and only a split second, you sucked in a deep breath and opened the door.

He stopped pacing when you came in, and your eyes met. He was half-dressed, tucking a soft, barely-buttoned pink shirt into snug black pants. Your heart was in your throat as you looked at him — he could hardly have looked more handsome, or more displeased to see you.

“I’ll be out of your way in a minute,” he said, his voice flat. He finished tucking in his shirt and skirted around you to get to his bag, and you quickly stepped out of his way.

You checked the time; you’d need to hurry if you were going to get to the bachelorette party on time. You and Jake did an awkward dance around each other as you got ready, and he was gone before you’d even put on your dress.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind him, but the shakiness in your hands didn’t go away when you were alone. You kept replaying the argument, feeling worse and worse every time your words echoed in your head. He was right — you did have feelings for him, and you’d always been scared of them. You’d let your fear ruin whatever there was between you, again. Worse than that, though, was the way you'd hurt him, and the guilt of it wouldn't let you be.

You tried to push it aside as you got ready; even though you didn’t much feel like socializing, you figured you should at least make an appearance at the party. When you were ready, you looked in the mirror to take stock of yourself. The dress you’d brought was one you’d never worn before, an olive green cocktail dress with long, puffed sleeves and luna moths embroidered on the skirt. Your sheer thigh-highs wouldn’t provide much warmth, but the bachelor and bachelorette parties were both going to be in the main cabin, and you’d be plenty warm inside with all those people.

Thankfully the path to the main cabin was cleared of snow, and you hurried inside into the crush of party guests, following the directions to the right side of the building where all the ladies had gathered for the bachelorette party. Music was blaring, drinks flowing freely, a variety of sparkly phallic decorations on every available surface. It wasn’t exactly your taste, but it wasn’t your party, and you found a spot by the bar and ordered a margarita.

“There’s sparrow, right there.”

You looked over at the door and saw Josh giving you a wave, and you returned it. He gave his girlfriend a parting kiss and gently pushed her towards you before he left to join the bachelor party, and she looked relieved to see you as she made her way through the room.

“I’m really glad you’re here, sparrow,” she said over the music. “I don’t know what I’d do if I was here alone.”

You smiled. “Yeah, me either. Though we could technically go over to the guys’ party if we wanted to.”

She took a sip of her drink and gestured to the Same Penis Forever banner on the wall.

“And miss all this?” she said. “I don’t think so.”

You laughed. “It’s... interesting, isn’t it?”

She gave a wry smile. “Not my cup of tea. Besides, I think Josh would have a heart attack if I had an underwear collection box at my bachelorette party.”

You almost choked on your drink. “A what?”

She grinned and nodded to the box on the far end of the bar, emblazoned with the words “drop your panties” in bright pink letters. Your eyes widened at the various unmentionables overflowing out of it.

“We’re supposed to take off our underwear?” you asked, aghast.

She laughed. “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s a game where everybody brings a pair, and we try to guess who brought what. It said something about it on their wedding website.”

“I guess I didn’t read the fine print,” you said. You finished your drink and asked for another one. “But no raunchy games at your bachelorette party, huh?”

She shook her head. “It’s not really my style, and it’s not Josh’s either.” She glanced towards the door, where the hallway stretched to the guys’ side of the party.

“He’s too much of a teddy bear for all that,” she said fondly. You looked over too, catching a glimpse of Josh and the boys at the bar, deep in conversation. Jake downed a shot of tequila and chased it with a lime wedge, and you took a long sip of your own drink.

“And as lovely as this place is, we’ll probably do something smaller for our wedding,” she said, pulling your attention away from Jake.

“You’re already planning it?” you asked.

She blushed, and it was very endearing. “Well, I’m already planning it. Daydreaming about it, really.” Her smile was sweet and wistful. “It probably won’t be for a little while, because neither of us wants to plan a wedding while things with the band are picking up — we both decided it would be better to wait until he’s not stretched so thin with recording and touring.”

That made sense to you. You glanced down at her left hand, looking for a ring you might have missed; she noticed and smiled.

“We’re not officially engaged yet,” she said. “I mean, he’s asked me a million times to marry him, and I’ve said yes every time, but it’s tricky to put it out in the open like that.”

“Do you have trouble with fans?” you asked.

She shrugged. “It depends. Most of the ones I’ve met and seen on social media are really sweet. But there’s always one or two who are...”

“Less than sweet,” you guessed. You couldn’t imagine the pressure of being in the spotlight like that, of having your relationship subject to such intense scrutiny.

She nodded. “We learned our lesson the hard way with that one,” she added ruefully, getting another drink. “That whole business with Jake’s ex...”

She trailed off, looking a little embarrassed that she’d mentioned it.

“That must have been awful,” you said, feeling a pang of sympathy for Jake that brought up your own guilt again.

She shook her head. “It was awful,” she said. “It broke my heart to see Jake treated like that. Not just by her, which was bad enough, but by so-called fans, too.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, knowing she’d be just as angry with you — and rightfully so — if she knew how you’d spoken to Jake earlier.

She took a deep breath. “But enough with the heavy,” she said, giving you a cheerful smile. “The boys are probably well on their way to getting drunk, and I say we join them.”

The bartender brought over two shots of tequila at her direction, and you both salted up the side of your hand and had a lime wedge ready.

“Cheers, sparrow,” she said, clinking her glass against yours.

You downed the shot and slammed the glass on the bar, quickly sticking the lime in your mouth. She grinned and flashed the lime peel, and you both collapsed in giggles.

“I’ve missed you, sparrow,” she said, putting her hand over yours. “I’m glad you’re here.”

You felt a tug of guilt and panic. If Jake told her what had happened between you, you didn’t know if she’d ever speak to you again.

You managed a smile. “Me too.”

Both of you stayed at the bar and talked as well as you could over the sound of the music, opting out of the games in favor of getting absolutely plastered.

“Does everybody call you baby?” you asked her, leaning on her arm. “Or only Josh?”

She smiled. “Just Joshy.” She tapped your nose. “But you can too, if you want.”

You felt a brief, entertaining flutter at her touch. Though you felt you’d unfortunately never be over Jake as long as you lived, you liked girls too, and she’d always been cute.

“Maybe we should see what Joshy has to say about that before you go giving me privileges,” you teased.

She giggled. “Hey, that’s a good idea. Let’s go see what the guys are up to.”

You hesitated. “Oh, I dunno. Aren’t we supposed to stay on this side, with the girls?”

“Everybody’s too drunk to care,” she said, which was probably true. She tugged at your arm. “Come on, sparrow. Let’s find you a guy to make out with.”

You blushed at the thought, but you fleetingly wondered if it might help take your mind off Jake. You let her take you over to the bachelor party side, and as she’d said, nobody seemed to mind.

“Baby!” Josh said happily, pulling her close and giving her a deep, messy kiss. You felt a pang of jealousy, and it didn’t ease when you saw Sam and Danny wrapped up in each other’s arms. Giving them space, you backed up against the bar, bumping shoulders with someone.

“Oh, sorry — ”

You looked over as you gave your apology, and blushed vividly when you met Jake’s eyes.

You tried to step back, but you wobbled in your high heels. He caught you on instinct, pulling you flush against him.

“Easy, sparrow,” he said, his voice low. You shivered at his touch.

“Sorry,” you said again, pulling back. He made sure you were steady before letting you go.

“‘S alright,” he said. “You drunk?”

You weren’t sure why the question irritated you.

“Maybe,” you said, though it was painfully obvious. “Aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “Not as much as I want to be.”

“Me either,” you said. You’d have to drink yourself into a stupor to be this close to him and not feel the sickening mix of guilt and desire that flooded you now.

He waved the bartender over.

“What are you drinking?” Jake asked you.

“Tequila.”

He turned to the bartender. “A margarita for the lady, and a tequila soda for me. Please.”

When your drinks were brought over, you downed yours quickly.

“Trying to set a record, sparrow?” Jake asked.

You scowled. “How about you worry about you, and I’ll worry about me?”

He raised a brow. “Oh, so you do believe in people minding their own business?” He took a long drink. “I never could have guessed.”

The guilt you'd managed to push down flared back to life. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

He watched as you finished off your drink. “Getting there.”

You faced him straight on and looked up at him, flush with indignation. “What’s your problem?”

“No problem, sparrow. Just making an observation.”

“You were always good at that, weren’t you?” you shot back. “Making observations about me and not doing a damn thing about it.” Like the blatant, unavoidable observation he must have made years ago that you were in love with him, like the observation he must have made now that you wanted him more than you’d wanted anything in your life.

His eyes darkened, and he closed the distance between you.

“What would you like me to do about it, sparrow? Maybe I should kiss you like you kissed me, show everybody what they missed.”

You flushed. “I don’t want you to,” you lied.

“That so?” he asked. “Well, I have some advice for you, sparrow. Don’t mouth off to me again unless you want me to find a way to shut you up.”

You didn’t know who moved first, and you couldn’t find it in you to care as he kissed you like he’d never get enough of you. You also couldn’t find it in you to care how you whimpered under him, nor how it made him pull you closer.

“Jesus,” he gasped, letting you come up for air. He wiped the back of his mouth with his hand, his pupils blown with desire. “You’re something, aren’t you, sparrow?”

“Something good or something bad?” you asked, pressing close.

He pulled away, and the rejection stung.

“I haven’t decided.” He finished his drink and set the glass on the bar. “See you around, sparrow.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, and you hated the desperation in your voice.

“You’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t want me on top of you,” he said. “Or don’t you remember?”

You shored up your hurt, defensive. “Yes, I remember.”

He grabbed his suit jacket from the barstool he’d left it on. You watched as he left, and you turned back to the bar when he closed the door behind him.

“Another, please,” you said, sliding your empty glass towards the bartender.

You felt a hand on your arm.

“Sparrow.”

You turned to see both Sam and Danny watching you with concern and surprise. You shrugged Danny’s hand off.

“What?” you asked.

He pulled back from you. “No offense, but... what the hell was that? With you and Jake?”

You took your drink from the bartender. “Nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing,” Sam said. “You just kissed the daylights out of each other. I thought you couldn’t stand him.”

“I can’t,” you said, giving them a rueful smile. “But he can’t stand me either, apparently, so I guess we’re even.”

You made to leave, but Danny gently stopped you and pried your drink from your hand.

“I’m not trying to make you mad,” he said when you opened your mouth to protest. “But I think maybe you ought to take it easy for the rest of the night.”

“I’m fine,” you said, but you let him set your drink back on the bar. He was right; your head was swimming, and you didn’t need any more to drink.

He took your hand. “Let me walk you back to your cabin, sparrow.”

You nodded, not up for arguing. Jake’s kiss had taken it out of you, and you were thankful for the way Danny let you lean on him.

“Be right back, love,” he said to Sam. He led you outside, and scooped you up into his arms when a few steps showed how unsteady you were in your heels.

“Oh, hello,” you said, putting your arms around his neck in surprise even though you knew he wouldn’t drop you.

He smiled. “Hi, sparrow. You had a lot to drink, huh?”

You sighed as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “Sure.” You tapped his chest. “You’re pretty strong, Danny.”

“I do my best.”

You hid your face against his neck when you started to feel dizzy. “This is pretty stupid, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Bet you didn’t plan on carrying your old pal from high school through the snow this weekend.”

He chuckled. “Not the first time I’ve carried a girl home, believe it or not.”

He set you down when you’d reached the porch of your cabin, and he kept a chaste hand on you until you were upright.

“You have your key?” he asked.

You fished around in your little bag until you found it. “Yep.”

You opened the door, and Danny came inside for a minute.

“Gonna be ok?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yes. Thank you for carrying me back.”

He smiled. “My pleasure, sparrow. Text me if you need anything, ok?”

You gave him a hug, and he didn’t hesitate to return it.

“Try and get some sleep,” he said when you let him go.

You gave him a mock salute. “Yes sir.”

When he left, you sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to wait out the dizziness you felt. You hadn’t been this drunk in a long time, and you couldn’t say you disliked the feeling; you were giggly and warm, unburdened by any of the negative emotions you’d been wrestling with all day.

You touched a hand to your lips, still feeling Jake’s warmth. You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you, forgetting all about the way you’d argued before and after your kiss.

You didn’t know where Jake had gone, and you foolishly wished he was with you. You laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling; you were way too wired to sleep, despite your promise to Danny that you’d try.

“Hey,” you said to no one, sitting up as you suddenly remembered the hot springs you hadn’t had a chance to see yet. A dip in the warm water sounded wonderful to you just then, and it didn’t take much for you to convince yourself to leave your cabin. You didn’t have the presence of mind to change out of your party outfit, and you were vaguely surprised you didn’t break your ankle trekking over to the bathhouse.

It looked abandoned; no light came through the huge, foggy windows of the otherwise barn-like structure. You slipped inside and were enveloped in the steam that rose from the surface of the hot spring. A raised stone pit at the corner of the pool held a cheery little fire that reflected on the water, providing the only light.

“Of course you’d show up here.”

You jumped at his voice. “Jake?”

He stepped closer to the fire, and its flickering light cast shadows on his face. He was shirtless, and his hair was already damp and curly from the steam.

“I didn’t know you were here,” you said.

He hummed. “Who’s on top of who, now?”

“I can leave,” you offered.

He shook his head. “Do what you want, sparrow.”

What you wanted to do was to kiss him again, but you didn’t say that. He unfastened his belt and started to pull down his jeans, and you blushed deeply as you averted your gaze.

“Jake,” you said, almost scolding.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a naked guy before.”

Your face burned hotter, and you gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “You’re naked?”

“Well, I’m not swimming in my clothes, if that’s what you’re asking.”

You hid behind your hands as you heard him get into the water, and you didn’t dare look for fear of seeing something you weren’t sure you’d be able to look away from. What was he doing, stripping down right in front of you?

“Open your eyes, little sparrow.”

You slowly pulled your hands from your face, letting out a breath when you saw he was covered by the water. Or, half of him was — the firelight was warm on his skin, catching the silver pendant necklace that rested on his chest.

“Scandalized?” he asked.

You gave him a lazy grin.

“You’d like that, wouldn't you?” you asked. You shook your head. “I should probably go.”

You weren’t sure you could have handled this sober, but you certainly couldn’t handle it drunk. Not without doing something stupid.

“Well, you came all this way,” he said. “You might as well stay a while.”

“Oh, I see,” you said, stepping closer to the pool against your better judgment. “So you decided I’m something good after all?”

He came closer, venturing into the shallower water, and you tried to keep your eyes on his.

“Not just yet, sparrow,” he said. “Though I don’t think you’re decided on me, either.”

You hummed.

“You don’t have to stay if you’re uncomfortable,” he said after a moment.

You bit the inside of your cheek. You should go. But whatever part of you that might have been wise enough to make you leave didn’t seem to have much sway at the moment.

“These shoes are the only things making me uncomfortable,” you said, trying for a bit of levity. You attempted to lift a foot to take them off, but you quickly decided against that when you could barely stay upright on both feet.

He rolled his eyes. “Come here,” he said, beckoning you over as he came up to the edge of the pool. You did as he said, and he unfastened your high heels for you and eased them off with surprising gentleness.

“You women and your high heels,” he said. He looked up at you. “Sit.”

You shook your head. “I’ll get my stockings all wet,” you said, though that was hardly the most pressing reason. You didn’t know what you’d do with him so close, close enough to kiss.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He skimmed his hands over the water. “It’s nice and warm, though. You’ve got to be cold in that dress.”

“You don’t like it?” you asked, lowering yourself to sit on the edge despite yourself, sitting with your legs to the side under you.

“I didn’t say that.” He tugged gently on the hem, his fingers running over one of the luna moths. Your breath caught in your chest, and you couldn’t think of a single intelligent thing to say.

“Let me take them off,” he said, running his knuckles over your stockings.

You shivered at his touch, and he gave you a ghost of a smile.

“Cold?” he asked.

“No.” It wasn’t the cold making you tremble like that, and he knew it.

He eased your dress up the littlest bit, and his gaze was steady on your face.

“Tell me to stop, sparrow,” he said. It wasn’t a challenge; you knew he’d stop the moment you told him to, and he was giving you the chance before he went any further.

With shaking hands, you pulled your dress up over your knees. He hooked his fingers behind your knee and drew your leg out from under your dress, supporting your ankle with one hand as he swept his free hand up to your thigh.

“Fancy,” he said, thumbing over the lace at the top of your thigh-highs. You felt heat race through your body.

“Do you like them too?” you asked. Your voice was nervous, and the desire in his eyes was softened by his smile.

“Yes, sparrow,” he said gently. “I like them too.”

He pulled the flimsy stocking down in a fluid movement, and you thrilled at the feel of his fingers on your skin.

“I like them better when they’re off, though,” he said, giving your thigh a feather-light kiss.

You sucked in a breath. “Jake.”

He eased that foot into the water and went for the other one, repeating his movements as he took your other stocking off; your skin sparked at his touch, his fingers trailing down your leg with tenderness and intention. He discarded your stockings onto the pile of his clothes, and no sooner had he returned to you than you spread your knees to let him stand between them.

“You’re naked,” you said.

He smirked. “We’ve been over this, sparrow.” He ran his hands over your thighs, pushing your dress up further. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” you said, breathless. “But you can’t stand me. Why did you want me to stay?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Are you going to let me kiss you, or do we have to go to therapy first?”

You quickly shook your head. “I want you to kiss me, Jake.”

He gave a pleased hum. “That’s better.”

He pressed his mouth to yours, and then it was only skin and heat and hunger between you. He raised his hand from the water and grazed a few fingers over your jaw, rivulets of warm water running down your throat. With the barest touch, he pulled you down to him; you went willingly, opening your mouth against his.

You let your hands wander over him, wanting to be as close to him as you could; you gave a choked groan when he kissed a love mark under your jaw.

“Jakey,” you sighed.

You felt his smile.

“Jakey, huh?” He trailed kisses down your neck. “You’re so cute, sparrow.”

You flushed with pleasure, and you ducked your head to get him to kiss your lips again. He obliged you, opening his mouth to kiss you deeply, sighing when your fingers traced over his jaw.

What was it that possessed you every time you were near him? This was all it had ever been between you — and probably all it ever would be, if this weekend was any indication. Maybe this was all it was meant to be. Maybe you would only ever have Jake like this, greedy for your kisses, pliant under your hands, your passion fueled by irritation and tension and frustration. Maybe you weren’t supposed to have anything more.

The thought could have driven you crazy. It could have made you sob until you couldn’t breathe. But you were drunk, and he was hungry for you, and you convinced yourself that it was enough.

You tangled your fingers in his hair.

“I want you,” you said, your voice tight. “Please, Jakey.”

He lifted his head from where he’d been kissing just above your sweetheart neckline.

“What?” he asked.

“I want you,” you repeated. One night would be enough. It had to be.

His expression faltered, and if you hadn’t known better, you could have sworn he looked guilty.

“Sparrow, that’s not — ” He shook his head. “We can’t. Not like this.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “It’s... hard to explain.”

You touched his face. “You want me too, Jake, I know you do. We don’t have to overthink it.”

His expression was colored with regret and sadness. You felt something shift between you as you looked at him, some understanding, some gentleness that hadn’t been there before.

He put his hand over yours. “No, sweetheart.”

You felt an embarrassed blush creep into your cheeks, and almost wished he hadn’t been so sweet in his rejection. He let his hand fall when you pulled away, and he gave you space as you got to your feet.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “No, I’m sorry.” You were a little lightheaded as you stood, still drunk, and you closed your eyes and steadied yourself against the raised edge of the fire pit.

“Hold on,” he said, and you heard him get out of the water. He toweled off and got dressed quickly, and he was by your side shortly after.

“Come here, trouble,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate. He knelt and helped you put your shoes back on, and you suddenly realized how tired you were.

“My stockings?” you mumbled.

He patted his jacket pocket. “Right here. Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

You nodded and let him lead you back to your cabin, wrapping your arm around his and leaning close.

“Sorry I can’t carry you,” he said. “Between the snow and all the shit I had to drink, I’m pretty sure we’d both end up in the hospital if I tried.”

You laughed, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your hair.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he said sincerely. “I shouldn’t be so careless with you, sparrow. It’s not fair to you.”

You sighed. You knew what he meant.

“We’re careless with each other, I think,” you said.

“One of our many talents.”

You gave a rueful smile. “That’s one way of putting it.”

When you got back to your cabin, Jake made sure you were taken care of first. He unclasped your necklace and unzipped your dress, and he got some medicine from his bag as you got into your pajamas.

“Drink up,” he said, giving you the medicine and a full glass of water. “Or you’re gonna have a hell of a headache tomorrow.”

You gave a soft groan. “I’ll probably have one either way. But the wedding’s not until late tomorrow, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. He took the empty glass from you and steered you towards the bed. “Plenty of time to sleep it off.”

You snuggled under the blankets, already feeling the pull of sleep. “You’re coming to bed soon?”

“In just a minute,” he assured you. He smiled as you tried to keep your eyes open. “You can fall asleep, sparrow. I won’t be offended.”

“I need to tell you something before I fall asleep,” you said.

He crossed to your side of the bed and hunkered down so you were face to face.

“What do you need to tell me?” he asked softly.

You could barely keep your eyes open, but it was important that you say what you needed to.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” you said. “About your ex. It was an awful thing to say. I know I hurt you, and I’d give anything to take it back.”

He brushed your hair back from your face. “I know, sparrow. I forgive you.” He kissed your nose, and you closed your eyes. “You can go to sleep now, sweetheart. I’ll come to bed soon.”

You gave a sleepy sigh. “Love you, Jakey.”

His thumb brushed gently over your cheek. “I love you too, sparrow.”

Read part four!

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