#but that would have taken us way off course so... maybe later :)

[fallenhunnyapple]

Hell is Forever and Heaven is a Lie

Here's Part 1 of the Sinner!Adam AU RP ⚠️Disclaimer⚠️ We started this RP in February very soon after we got into Adamsapple so our grasp of the characters then and our HCs and stuff were not what they are now, so there's gonna be some inconsistencies and maybe behaviors that we no longer attribute to them. So just something to keep in mind if things Change over the course of the posts. Lucifer and Charlie are written by Me Adam (and briefly later Niffty and Husk) are written by @fallenguitarhero

~~~~~~~~~~rp start~~~~~~~~~~~

When Charlie called him over in a panic, Lucifer was instantly there by her side. Adam. Having Adam in Hell as a sinner was, well. It was a whole disaster. It made sense? He was far from Noble and his soul was still human, though he lacked the element of free will. But it certainly didn't sit well with him. Especially since he was near his daughter. His precious little girl who he had dared to hurt before. He still wished he had taken him out back then, but now it seemed that it wouldn't have mattered since he was right there in Hell again.

Charlie, his kind caring and sweet daughter, had convinced him to help in such a drastic way. Anything to help her, and this was part of Anything. He knew she always had Hell's best interest at heart, whether they deserved it or not. But it was true that if he could have Adam under control, that would endanger her Much less than if he was allowed to exist within the Hotel without him.

With a sigh and a glance back at the one is question, Lucifer faced his daughter with a gentle smile. "Okay. I'll do it."

There was obvious relief on Charlie's expression as she hugged him. "Thanks Dad! I guess now I'll just. Have to tell him. Yeah, that'll be easy... Haha..."

Her tone was obviously nervous but she pulled away from the hug and took a few steps towards Adam before clearing her throat. "Heeeey, so. Adam. You can Stay here, we're all about second chances! But, uh. All of Hell will probably be after you and well.... We don't want that to fuck us over. Sooo there is Ooone little itty bitty condition. And! It's for your safety too! You'll be killed if you're not under some sort of... Protection. And my dad, Lucifer, has agreed toooo... Make a deal with you to keep the rest of Hell from trying to kill you and destroy the Hotel! Yaaaaaay."

---- Adam was not happy.

He'd had time to calm down from his initial panic and rage. The situation still fucking sucked but now he was actually taking stock of his surroundings and thinking through his options.

He fucking hated being ignored by Lucifer and his little bitch of a daughter but at the very least it gave him the space he needed to think things through. Adam wandered through the rebuilt lobby and poked at the decorations- ugh, why was hell so red? What a lame color. Adam liked blue better.

So. Clearly, something had been done to his wings so that he couldn't just fly up and open the portal between heaven and hell. Adam also felt disoriented and off balance, as though his center of gravity had changed.

Speaking of change...

Adam caught a glimpse of his reflection in a decorative mirror and went very still. His hand rose to touch one of his new horns and he winced when his claws scraped the surface and agitated the swiftly growing headache that was pounding behind his eyes. He'd assumed that the familiar weight was because of his helmet but these- Adam tugged hard, wanting to tear it out at the root, but all that happened was his headache getting worse. Yeah. That was real.

"What the fuck." Adam swiftly crossed the rest of the room and grabbed the mirror. His eyes darted rapidly back and forth as he took in the changes to his head and face; the new horns and the stupid ears and-

Adam yelped and spun around with a hand clutching his chest.

"Fuck! You scared the crap outta me, don't do that." Adam completely disregarded that Charlie had in no way snuck up on him. He still listened to her, his eyebrows climbing with each word.new

"Let me stop you right there," Adam cut her off mid 'yaaay' with a dismissive flick of his hand. "I don't need protection and I definitely don't need it from him. Are you forgetting who I am? I'm the Adam, bitch! I kill more sinners in one day than fentanyl does in a year!" Adam's voice pitched high and mocking; "Youw pwecious daddy ovew dewe," His voice dropped to its usual rough tone, "can eat a whole bag of dicks."

----

Charlie hadn't really registered what Adam was up to but she didn't expect to startle him. But of course he didn't seem to care. She knew this wouldn't be easy but she still deflated a bit. Yeah, Adam was an asshole, she knew that. And she didn't think he would be willing or accepting of the things she had to say. She took in a deep breath through her nose and tried again.

"Look, I know this isn't... ideal. For any of us. But you're here now! In Hell! And uh. I don't think yooou really get your position here. I-I know you're 'the Adam' but that paints a target on your back, you know?" Truthfully, she didn't know if Adam still retained his strength as an angel which would, admittedly make him at least partially able to handle himself, but in Hell? There would be no shortage of people aiming for him and if they worked together it would absolutely raze this place to the ground after they had just rebuilt it.

"Don't talk about my dad that way." A demonic edge laced her tone. She had low patience for Adam, but she was trying. But no one disrespected her dad.

Lucifer stepped in, placing a hand gently in front of her. "Let me handle this Char-char." He didn't like seeing Charlie agitated and he knew her kind and patient speech wasn't going to get through to a piece of shit like Adam.

"Listen here, fuckhead. I know you think you're still the same you were before you got fucking Skewered a million times. But uh, how do I put this nicely. You're fucking nothing now, Bitch. You're in my world now and none of your Angelic bullshit even works here. Go ahead and fucking try it."

"Dad!" She didn't want to encourage a fight. Maybe... Maybe this tactic would work? But she was still so worried, her stomach tied in knots. She knew her dad could handle Adam, but she didn't like to see this kind of confrontation all the same.

---

She really didn't know when to quit, huh? And here he thought that radio prick liked the sound of his own voice, sheesh!

When he'd first seen her all those months ago in the embassy, Adam had been glad that she looked nothing like Lilith. All he saw when he looked at her was Lucifer and it had made her so much easier to hate. Fun to mess with, too. She fell for all the tricks that the old cuckmaster had always been a little too wily for.

But now? He wished she was enough like her old man to know when to call it quits. This stubborness was all Lilith, definitely. Lucifer had at least known he'd lost all those years ago when he got banished.

Well, he had known. Charlie changed that, didn't she? Adam didn't know how that made him feel.

Adam rolled his eyes and scoffed. As Charlie tried to explain his 'position' (on top like always, duh!) he mocked her with nonsensical high-pitched 'blahblahblahs', his hand making yapping motions the whole time. When she finally finished, he stuck out his tongue with a 'bleh.'

Oh, wait. Things were getting fun now. Adam's eyes narrowed and his smug smirk widened into a full grin.

"Or what?" It took only the barest flicker of movement for his eyes to snap to Lucifer. "Aww, here comes daddy to the rescue-"

Adam's shocked face was priceless. It took him a bit to recapture his bravado and puff back up. His useless wings fluffed up to make him look bigger than he already was compared to the devil.

He immediately turned away, his side facing the pair so he could still watch them, and struck a pose by pointing at a piece of particularly ugly decoration.

Nothing happened.

"Uhhhh!" Adam shook his hand as if it was a broken tool. "One second, gimme one second, this has never happened before-" He peered at his finger the way an idiot like him might peer down the barrel of a gun that wasn't firing. "What the fuck did you do to me!?"

Because it had to be their fault.

----

Charlie's eyes had narrowed at the mocking but she didn't expect him to have any respect for her anyway. Still, it was frustrating to be mocked like that. It pissed her off when demons dismissed her and it did now too. But it seemed something her dad said had definitely caused Adam to drop his bravado.

She had her hand clasped on her dad's shoulder, apprehensive. She didn't doubt when Lucifer said Adam didn't have his angelic powers anymore, but that didn't mean she didn't tense up when he tried. It was a relief that nothing happened and she let out a nervous breath.

Lucifer on the other hand just stood, both hands resting on his cane with a smug and even amused expression. "Having... Trouble there?" His tone was as mocking as his expression. He wanted Adam to feel Small. Height didn't mean Shit, especially when the power gap between them had only Widened. He took a couple steps forward, and chuckled. "Oh, we didn't do anything. Guess actions have Consequences, huh? Never had to experience those, did you?"

----

Adam slowly looked back to Lucifer and Charlie. There was something different in his expression, a look in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Even when he had fought Lucifer, he'd been defiant until the end- until he'd been stabbed in the back by that little gremlin.

Adam had never really been afraid before. Startled, yes. A little rattled? Of course. But there had never been a time in his life that he'd been truly frightened. Now, though, Lucifer's smile felt more like the bared fangs of a predator then the smug grin that Adam usually wanted to punch off his face.

Adam drew in a breath and got his shit together. This didn't really mean anything. He was still Adam. Heaven wouldn't abandon him like this.

He caught a glimpse of his reflection from the corner of his eye.

"FUCK!" Adam snatched something small and kitschy and threw it at the mirror. The shattered glass distorted his reflection and made him feel even worse. He hunched his back and mantled his wings around himself, full on ready to throw something somewhere between a temper tantrum and a nervous break down.

"This can't be happening. I'm the first fucking man! I've-" His voice cracked and he grabbed at his horns to confirm to himself they were still there, "I've never done anything to deserve this! I'm not some sinner piece of crap- I belong in heaven, not here. Not with you freaks!"

----

Lucifer took a step back to avoid any glass shards from the broken mirror and sighed. He knew immediately that at the very least Vaggie would come to check. Maybe that obnoxious radio asshole too. No, that wouldn't do.

"Hey, Charlie. I'm gonna take him elsewhere until the deal is done. Come up with some cover story for what happened to the Mirror and we'll be back when I got it." His tone was stern and serious and

Charlie nodded slowly. "Right...." She had been startled by it but she heard footsteps from upstairs now and it sunk in that this was actually a Bad situation to have the others see. "Right! Okay! I got it! Uhm, I can. I can figure it out... Just, be careful Dad."

"Don't worry, I can handle this." He gave Charlie a gentle smile before walking up to Adam and grabbing him by the collar. No time to be a bitch with an existential crisis.

It was not a moment too soon when Vaggie appeared at the veranda of the second floor and looked over to railing to Charlie and the glass scattered on the floor.

"Charlie! Are you okay? What happened?"

"Oh, uh. Just got a little too... Excited and ended up knocking some things over that cracked the mirror. Haha, clumsy me-!"

~~

Now they were Literally in Lucifer's house. It hadn't been properly lived in for a while, but it was clean enough to handle this mess. He unceremoniously tossed Adam at the couch in the living room and sat in the nearby matching armchair.

"Done having your fit?"

----

Adam was too consumed by his angst to notice that Lucifer was approaching. It was only when he was scruffed that he properly tuned back into the situation at hand.

"Huh?" Adam blinked dumbly. He had just enough time to register what was happening before he was thrown into a couch. Instead of trying to dodge, Adam chose to just use the remaining momentum to climb onto the couch and flop face first onto it.

"Yes." Adam answered snippily after a few seconds. "I'm now having a heart attack instead."

----

Well at least he wasn't having a tantrum. Did the sudden change of scenery knock him out of it? Hopefully. He didn't like dealing with this manchild at the best of times. Though it was gratifying knowing how pathetic and weak he was now. And Adam had seen it for himself too. "Oh, good. Let me know when you're done with that and we can..." he sighed. "Have a real conversation."

He said that but he was restless and he still didn't like Adam so instead of being an adult and having any kind of patience, he picked up a rubber duck from the nearby pile and tossed it at Adam.

----

Adam grunted. He didn't want to talk to Lucifer either. In fact, maybe if he ignored him long enough Lucifer would go away.

The duck squeaked as it bounced off of Adam and into the back of couch and then fell back on Adam's back between his wings. Why have you betrayed it like this, father?

Adam grunted.

"Bruh," Adam lifted his head and squinted at Lucifer. He looked terrible. His face was mostly unchanged from when he'd been an angel, but for the rectangular pupils and sheep-like ears. But the bags under his eyes and unkempt appearance had been joined by bloodshot eyes and red lines on his face from the couch. "Did you just throw a rubber duck at me? Have some respect for the dying, asshole."

----

Adam, the guy who's pride almost rivaled his own at times, was feeling sorry for himself as he lay on his couch. Lucifer couldn't help but find the humor in this and let out a single chuckle. He almost felt bad for the duck though. At least Adam didn't try to break it or something.

"You're already dead twice over asshole, you're not dying again. At least not so easily. You see sinners are resilient. And that's what you are now. Get it?"

----

"Mm." Adam propped himself up on his elbows. Maybe someone would have expected him to throw another fit or attack Lucifer... but he'd figured out that this wasn't the sort of situation he could brute force his way out of.

"Is it because I died in hell?" Adam looked at Lucifer with an uncharacteristically serious expression. Then, he said something that he hadn't even realized had been bothering him; "None of my girls came back. Just me."

He rolled the rubber duck off his back and into his hand with his wing. Instead of crushing it or throwing it, he just held it.

"Angels don't become sinners but," It sounded like he was pulling teeth just to admit he wasn't perfect. "I have a human soul."

So it wasn't his fault. It was the fucking... radiation or something that hell had.

"Okay. Got it. I'm a sinner for now or whatever." Adam looked at the duck instead of Lucifer. "This blows, man."

---- This was probably the calmest Lucifer had ever seen Adam. All his bravado was gone and he seemed... Small. Like Lucifer had wanted. Good. He didn't have sympathy for him, he didn't care about his problems. He crossed his legs and leaned to one side of the arm chair, propping his chin up with a hand.

"Look, I'm gonna be real with you. This is a first. Angels dying is new to us, and, well, a human soul getting a second afterlife is also new. You've done enough shit this time to get stuck down here with the rest of us and pretty sure you're not going anywhere now. So you might as well get used to it."

And he was absolutely Watching Adam's hands like a hawk. He was being gentle with the duck and that kept him from getting more on his bad side at least.

---- All Adam heard was Lucifer admitting that this had never happened before. He latched onto that one crumb of hope like it was the only thing he had because, well, it was.

"You're right!" Adam shot up with all the energy he lacked just moments before. "This is some kind of freak accident! And that means nobody knows I'm down here, they all think I'm dead!"

Adam looked to Lucifer with manic eyes.

"I have to report to the embassy. If I tell someone I'm alive then I can go back to where I belong." Trying to appeal to Lucifer, he kept ranting; "That's the best option for all of us, right? You don't want me here anymore then I do."

----

Lucifer rolled his eyes. Of course Adam was all gungho about this now. Of course, he wouldn't let that happen. Did Heaven even have a new Ambassador for Hell now that Adam was dead? Had they even bothered to figure that out? He had no faith in Heaven so he doubted it.

"You're not an Angel anymore, Adam."

The words were cold, spoken coldly. And the accompanying gaze held none of the usual jovial playfulness. He had One goal right now and if Adam thought he had any other choice, it would make it even more difficult.

----

Maybe it was the directness of the words or the cold manner in which they were spoken that did it but either way, Adam listened. His wings slumped.

The reality of the situation was finally starting to sink in. He didn't want to accept it but he wasn't so stupid he'd keep beating his head against a brick wall. Above all else, Adam was motivated by his own self-interest and his survival came first and foremost in this situation.

But first, a little bit of self-pity was called for.

"I'm fucked." Adam dropped his head into his hands. "I'm soooo fucked."

----

It seemed the seriousness of the situation was finally sinking in. Good. Lucifer stood up from his chair and strode up to Adam. His expression was still serious, but not quite as harsh as before.

"Yeah, you are. Heaven ain't taking you back and Hell, well, most of Hell would love to string you up and watch you struggle through whatever depraved shit they could come up with."

And now the more familiar playfulness was returning. "That's why you should've listened more closely to Charlie. She had a solution for you. One that would, more or less, keep Hell from ripping you to pieces over and over for Eternity."

----

Adam could have argued with that first point but he knew Lucifer was right about the rest. He would never get out of hell if he was pounced on by the first sicko with an agenda the second he left this mansion.

He… honestly wasn't too familiar with what that depraved shit could be. The most 'depraved' thing he had seen in his long life had been some of the Angel Dust porn one of his exorcists had found and brought to heaven. He'd wanted to let her keep it but Sera had gotten all tense about contraband and made him confiscate it. He'd given her the real sick shit to destroy and hid the rest under his mattress. The exorcist had been stoked when he told her.

She'd died while the shield was up. Adam wished he killed that radio prick when he had the chance.

"Yeah, I heard her." Adam sank back against the couch. "A deal with you…" His melancholy expression twisted into sardonic anger. "Because that ended real well for Eve, right? Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

----

Lucifer stepped around to the back of the couch and leaned over it, chin in hand again. "Tell me, what other choice do you think you have?" Adam could protest and be pissed about his non-option, but that didn't change the fact that it was a non-option.

Charlie wanted to protect Adam, give him a chance. Lucifer loved his baby girl but she sure had some weird morals and ideas. And he had already vowed to do anything that helped her with them. His own feelings were always going to be secondary to this. And that was the only reason he had to corner Adam and force him to make the deal. Letting him out without it and at the risk of getting his ass got by any sinner or demon out there wasn't an option for him either.

----

Adam did not like Lucifer being behind him. He twisted awkwardly and painfully to make sure that he wasn't too vulnerable in front of the devil. He was a little jumpy about having his back turned to people now and especially to the most hated being in creation.

"I could die." It's obvious from his facial expression that Adam doesn't consider that an option. He chews on that for a bit. Death or Lucifer, huh? At least until he can find a way back to heaven…

"So if I make a deal with you, you'll protect me from the demons." Adam leaned back. "What do you get out of it?"

----

Lucifer hummed, knowing that Adam wasn't actually considering that. Not Adam, he was going to inflict his existence on people for as long as he possibly could. That was one thing he was sure about. But when the question came back to him he waved his hand a bit dismissively.

"Well, mostly I'm doing this for Charlie. But in terms of, I guess, formalities, it'd be… 'I lend you my protection so no one will harm you so long as you're in hell or else they'll have to deal with Me, and you know how powerful I am, and in exchange you behave for the people at the Hotel and I get your soul.' Something like that."

----

Adam blanched.

"My soul!?" Of course Heaven's poster boy wasn't taking that well. He looked like he was on the edge of deciding to try his chances in a mad dash for the embassy. He was so distressed that he only barely picked up on the implicit threat of Lucifer's power. "You want me to sell my soul to you!? You're the fucking devil!"

----

"Yeah, no shit I'm the fucking Devil. That's exactly why I'm your best bet is this shithole. No one is gonna fuck with me. Or whoever is under my care." He was getting exasperated, and his patience was already Paper thin.

"You don't know shit about this place. All your angelic powers are gone cuz you're not a fucking Angel anymore. You don't even know what you can do as a sinner yet. And that means you're more vulnerable than you've ever been in your entire existence. Your soul? It ain't going back up, that's for sure. You're already here. Hell is forever, I think Charlie told me you said. So either you spend that forever with the best fucking security anyone in this place could possibly get, or you spend forever getting passed around and fucked and killed by randos."

----

Yikes. Someone was grouchy. Adam personally thought Lucifer didn't have the right to act all pissy about this. Adam was the one who got stabbed to death by a psycho! And now he was stripped of his halo and forced to rely on his oldest enemy for survival.

And maybe Adam would have still decided to try to fight if he hadn't already learned his powers were gone. If he hadn't already spent a half hour hopping around like an idiot trying to take flight with clipped wings.

That was another thing. Adam didn't know if Lucifer already knew this but… Well, it was a helluva lot harder to escape angry sinners without his wings. It wasn't like he'd been doing much cardio in heaven.

He was fucked over either way. But at least Lucifer was offering him some say in how he was getting fucked over. A chance to set terms or whatever. And quite frankly Adam didn't relish the idea of being literally fucked by randos. They'd do worse to him, he was sure, not only in the name of revenge but also whatever sick shit these freaks got off on.

"Fine." He bit out through grit teeth. "I'll do it. I'll make a fucking deal with you and play nice for your kid and all her little friends." He leaned closer to Lucifer. "Happy? You've finally dragged all three of us down here with you."

----

"Oh, yes. Very." Lucifer grinned. Fucking FINALLY. While his mind was now very quickly wandering onto Other ways to complete the set, he knew he needed to get the contract done Before all that. Man it'd been a while since he'd drawn up any sort of contract. He'd been more than out of the game for what felt like eons.

But he snapped his fingers and a golden scroll manifested, a bright red pen with it, filled with a red ink that matched the rest of the writing on the scroll. "You can read it, but I don't think you have the patience~ But I am a man of my word. No secret clauses or anything like that. Just what we've already verbally agreed on, but on paper."

----

Adam gave Lucifer a deadpan look.

"Yeah, I'm sure there's nothing weird hidden in the fucking fine print. Do you even know the shit they say about you up there, man?" Still, that didn't go entirely against what he knew of Lucifer. In all of their dealings during his tenure as ambassador to hell, Lucifer had been for the most part honest and straightforward. Adam had always assumed it was because Lucifer didn't like the sinners anymore then he did.

He squinted at the scroll. It wasn't that long and yet he couldn't make himself focus on it for more than a quick skim through. He tried. But after everything he'd been through in such a short amount of time, his hands were shaking with nervous energy and the words just wouldn't stick in his head. It was too short for Lucifer to have hidden anything, right?

… Right.

Adam took the pen and tried to will his hand to stop shaking. He felt sick. No matter what anyone might say about his character, Adam had always been loyal to heaven and to the angels. This was a betrayal that left even someone as self-centered as him grappling with the unfamiliar feeling of guilt.

He'd hated Vaggie so much for betraying them - for betraying him - and yet he was now doing something far worse. A deal with the most hated being in creation.

"… I'm gonna sign it." Adam closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing. "I just need a second."

----

"I'm sure I can guess." Lucifer didn't like Heaven and had no doubt they spoke hatefully of him if ever he did come up. Probably mostly lies, honestly. He stood up and walked back around the couch to stand in front of Adam, waiting. Oh, he was sure it wouldn't be easy.

"Yeah, sure, take your time. I got all day." Well, since things were winding down a bit, maybe he could try being at least a little bit of a host. "Hungry? Thirsty? I can get you something."

----

Adam's feathers ruffled up. He cracked open one eye and gave Lucifer a dirty look.

"If I even think about food I'm gonna blow chunks all over your ugly carpeting." Adam half-threatened, half-warned. "Check back in after I've finished committing the ultimate sin, 'kay?"

----

Lucifer held his hands up is a dismissive manner. "Okay, okay fine. No food, got it." He walked back to the chair he sat in earlier and sank down, eyes still trained on Adam.

Until he felt his phone go off and saw a text from Charlie. Aw, his wonderful daughter was checking in on him! His demeanor drastically and obviously changed to being much more chipper and happy as he texted back. Just a little update that they'd come to an agreement and now he was just waiting for him to sign the contract! They wouldn't immediately head back to the hotel though. He wanted Charlie to have enough time to prep things after all! At least that was the reason he was giving her.

----

It was a relief when Lucifer finally found something else to stare at. Adam watched him long enough to see his sudden change in demeanor- the ex-angel looked away with a scowl. Was he texting a girlfriend or something? Adam wouldn't be surprised if someone like Lucifer had already moved on from Lilith.

Driven by his own petty need to at least make this less of a pleasant memory for future Lucifer, Adam took his chance to sign the contract while the devil was distracted. He made sure that his handwriting was sloppy and ugly too. He even considered dropping the pen in the couch cushions before deciding to drop it on the floor by his feet instead.

"Done." Adam watched the contract instead of the devil. He sort of expected it to burst into flames so he made sure to lean back as far as he could without hurting his wings. "What now?"

---End Part 1---

[helloilikepurple]

DC X DP - Mirrors

Did Danny want to live in Gotham? No, of course not. Did he have a choice? Nope. When does he ever?

Now, he may be technically homeless, but he's also technically dead, so human laws technically don't apply to him. So, naturally, he pics out an empty mansion so big even if the owners were to come home, the chances they'd run into each other would be really low, and settles in.

This 'mansion' happens to be Drake Manor. Look, Danny lived in nowhere Illinois and kinda had his hands full dealing with ghosts, a double life, bullies, and being actively hunted. He doesn’t know much about celebrities. If you tell him the name of someone super famous, it might sound vaguely familiar, but that's about it. What he knew was superheroes and vigilantes (some of them, okay, give him a break). That's about it.

So the name Drake in connection with Gotham didn't ring any alarm bells. He did some surface level research: the Drakes are dead, survived by their only child, Timothy Drake-Wayne, who now owns their house but was adopted by some other super rich guy called Bruce Wayne and doesn't live in it, leaving it empty for the foreseeable future.

It was the perfect place!

Danny didn't explore much, partly because he didn't care to and partly because he was too tired to from healing. He cleaned up after himself, used only his bedroom (chosen for being tucked way back and out of the way), the attached bathroom, and the theatre occasionally as a treat. He lived off of the provisions packed for him, ectoplasm and water from the sink.

Cut to, few weeks in.

Danny's got a new routine, he's taken his stitches out, and is still super fucked up, but a lot better than when he arrived. He hasn't been outside since he arrived, but ghosts don't need Vitamin D anyway. Is he slightly depressed? Maybe. But he's also dead, so, bigger priorities.

Tim is looking through his stuff for something or other, and it occurs to him he probably left it next door. He hasn't been to Drake Manor in months, but he sort of really needs this thing, so he sucks it up and borrows a car because like hell is he walking the several miles from this front door to that one.

He goes to his old bedroom, opens the door, and comes face-to-face with himself.

And Danny doesn't know what he's supposed to do in this situation.

Listen, Danny doesn't always make the best decision in the moment. It's a very normal flaw to have! So he tells who can only be Timothy Drake-Wayne himself when asked, that his name is Timothy Drake, and this is his house, and, actually, who are you and how did you get in?

This causes Tim to assume Danny is himself from another dimension who he accidentally dragged to his dimension by messing with the Time Stream to get Bruce back. Danny continues to accidently fuel this misunderstanding without meaning to.

(This is not helped by the fact that a DNA test doesn't disprove this. Danny's DNA is corrupted, but what Tim does get is identical to himself. This is how Danny finds out he was adopted, and how Tim, much later when misunderstandings are cleared, meets the identical twin brother he never knew he had.)

[acid-ixx]

I hope you don’t mind but I need to ramble this to someone, neglected Wayne reader right? The fam would forget to bring them to social events and whatnot right? So there would be very few pictures, articles and interviews or even facts about them, meaning that reader Wayne is a rarity. Still following me? Reader Wayne with a small but devout fanbase.

I’m talking they are trading the latest pictures and sharing links to the rare interview with reader in it, following any social media they have that isn’t private, they are just fascinated by this micro celebrity that seems to always be forgotten. Okay but also imagine one of the heroes developing a para-social attachment to reader. My money is on Conner Kent, mainly bc he can project his own issues with his dads onto reader and he can Dolores ~Encanto~ reader with his super hearing and develop a even bigger parasocial obsession with them

I hope you enjoyed this ramble, I will leave you be now, see ya later alligator! 🐊

omg another one of my asks that actually predicted a major plot point... this ask ties well with the last part written here. i'm thinking about having the reader get a love interest/s but i have already written an outline but one thing is for sure—

you have more than just your family interested in taking you.

major spoilers below the cut. — an excerpt from chapter xx

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

maybe this is out of the picture, but id' like to imagine you and connor having a therapy session where one comes out absolutely obsessed with the other, and it's not you.

connor's character for me is so, so good for an angst potential. it's like his personal struggles is a way for him to show you how absolutely you two are meant to be. and he may have met you through bumping into you (false) or maybe... he has seen you stalking through the shadows back when he visits the manor. using his superhearing, he can hear your voice from the kitchen begging alfred to relay a message to bruce, sounding so absolutely desperate. it's the way you tell alfred how you wished your father actually spends time with you, or how nobody seems to notice you— that he kind of just makes a silent promise that he will talk to you soon, he needs to know why this family seems so keen on ignoring and how hypocritical tim is for literally doing the same thing to you when he's aware of kon's past.

if he (or anyone else) should be a love interest (though he is a minor character in the series unless you guys want him to be a major one), i can already imagine the absolute hell you have to suffer not only from your family but from your own lover. just imagine the stockholm syndrome or the delusions you convince yourself with because you're finally loved by someone but that love restricts you from the very freedom you tried to build.

the batfamily would be so conflicted because why are you choosing some stranger over them...? then you slap them in the face with, "well, this "stranger" wants to kidnap me and lock me up, sure! but at least they actually looked at me for more than five seconds!" and you can watch how the color drains off their face, their conflict giving you the perfect opportunity to run away from both your ex-family and your soon-to-be-kidnapper-lover who thinks your comeback is a funny way for you to propose.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

More sugar mommy stuff..this time with Ellie and Abby<3 MDNI SMUT BELOW

•Abby is definitely really gentle with her sugar baby. She’d love to spoil you more with cute clothes and sweet kisses, not as much on the sexual side. She was just an older woman who wanted some company and to spoil a pretty girl like you.

•Ellie, however, is more about just giving you money and trips and getting sex. Not to say that she doesn’t care or is shallow, she just prefers the quick connections with her babies. You happen to be one of them.

•Abby hits it off well with you. After a few dinners, you do end up having sex. However, it’s not anything like an expectation or a matter of pleasing her. She just really likes you, and she wants things a teensy more on the physical side as well.

•Ellie and you don’t spend a lot of time together in the beginning, maybe one every few weeks she’ll take you out, but when she does, it’s the BEST. One time you mentioned really wanting to go to Italy. Ellie definitely took you there a month later!! The sex there was truly mind-blowing for her, and even if she’s not the softest person, she loves seeing you all happy.

•Abby who when you two are doing the rarely sexual stuff, loves to please you more than anything. You’re practically a pillow princess now, sometimes she’ll let you do the work but it’s more rare than Christmas every year.

•Ellie who does love to see your face contort with pleasure when you cum, but like receiving too. You’ll find yourself with a face-full of her cunt, nose brushing up against her bush while she grinds against your tongue.

“Open wide, baby, let me use that slutty tongue of yours..there you go baby, stick your tongue out.”

Needless to say, she’ll always make sure you’re taken care of too. Every single time.

•Abby’s favorite position would definitely be missionary. She finds the more intimate positions her favorites. She loves to look into your eyes when she fucks you. She also probably wouldn’t refer to it as “fucking”, though. She does consider what you do making love, and she loves to kiss you while making you feel good. Bonus if the base of the strap bumps against her clit enough to make her cum..if it doesn’t, you’ll beg her to let you finish her off.

•Ellie’s more into scissoring/tribbing. Like I said, she does love making you cum but likes getting herself off as well. Getting to cum together is an unexpected intimacy between the two of you, and she does appreciate those types of moments with you. However, she’s also definitely the type to fuck you in a simple way, too. The first few times before you two got closer, she’d just fuck you from behind. She loved the way your ass jiggled as her hips met it, making a comically loud sound.

•Abby would prefer sex on the softer, lovey side. She’s just your sugar mommy, so there’s a fine line between the two of you, but as the months go by you notice she’s really just a gentle woman. She loves the idea of making love and taking it slow. She’s also big on consent–not that Ellie’s not, of course, but she has to ask you through every step and finds herself constantly asking if you’re okay, if you’re nervous, etc.

•Ellie definitely likes to fuck you rougher. She’s all about consent, too, but is more about you submitting to her for her own pleasure. Before anything, she’ll sit you down and go over what she can and can’t do. If you ever feel uncomfortable, she’ll be able to tell easily, and if not, she makes sure to check in on you in her own way…

“You like that, slut? Tell me what you want.”

She expects an honest answer, and if she doesn’t get one, she’ll pause and make sure you’re all okay before she continues.

However, once all is said and done, she loves being rough. She loves pulling your hair, grinding her cunt against your face, slamming her strap into you, etc. She likes being rough if you’re giving, too. She’ll tangle her hands into your hair while your tongue is on her, guiding your head.

•Abby would like to spoil you more with clothing and food. Say you like lobster, for example. She’d take you to your favorite restaurants for lobster specifically. She’s not the type to pick out clothing for you to wear, she likes your style and instead just prefers admiring you try things on in the dressing rooms, showering you with compliments.

“You look so pretty in that skirt, baby. How ‘bout mommy pays for that one, yeah?”

I also think Abby would LOVE to send you money to go have girls nights with your friends. She thinks it’s good for you to have fun and time away from her to do your own thing. She knows you’re going to the mall with your friends? She’ll send you a couple hundred for clothes and lunch.

•Ellie prefers spoiling you with experiences and gifts. She’s straight up with money, she has a basic allowance set for you, but she often takes you on trips and different places. She likes the idea of spending time with you over just spending money on clothes. You have plenty of those, anyway. Instead, she’ll buy you gifts like jewelry you happened to be eyeing in the mall or expensive candies from Japan, something like that. Ellie also definitely bought you a cat of all things because you’re her favorite sugar baby and she wanted to do something special. Said cat LOVES her every time Ellie visits you<3

[sluttywonwoo]

they wanna (fuck)

pairing: joshua hong x f reader x vernon chwe

summary: your boyfriend joshua wants to explore something new with you… and his best friend

warnings: swearing, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: threesome/cuckolding adjacent, oral (f receiving), protected and unprotected sex, choking

word count: 3.2k

your boyfriend grew up an only child. he’s not the best at sharing. which is why it surprised you more than a little bit when he suggested letting one of his best friends fuck you.

it wasn’t like you were opposed to the idea, you just didn’t think he was serious. you thought it might be a test. but it wasn’t.

“why vernon?” you’d asked.

“he’s got a thing for you,” joshua said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

“and he told you this?”

“nah, just caught him looking at your ass a bunch of times.”

“and have you asked him about this?”

“i was going to bring it up the next time i see him.”

“oh my god, he doesn’t even know?”

joshua scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “well, of course i’d bring it up to you first! it’s your vagina!”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“look, do you want to fuck him or not?”

-

you did want to fuck vernon. it wasn’t like it was a fantasy of yours or even something you’d dwelled on beyond a passing thought, but the man was certainly easy on the eyes and the way he carried himself made you wonder about… things how big it was.

joshua didn’t tell you exactly how the conversation went down. he just told you that vernon was “extremely down” for it, and that they planned for a time when all three of you were free.

“but why do you want me to fuck one of your friends?”

his cheeks turned pink. “um, it’s kind of a possessive thing, i think.”

“what? how does that work?”

“i just think it’d be hot to watch someone fuck you knowing that i get to have you all the time. i’m letting them have a taste but they’ll never get to experience you the same way i will… never get to make you feel the way i do.”

it was your turn to be flustered.

joshua peeked at your reaction. “is that… bad?” he asked nervously.

you shook your head. “no, not bad at all.”

he breathed a sigh of relief. “okay, good. good.”

-

when the day actually rolled around, you could tell joshua was having second thoughts. he kept himself busy all morning, cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, organizing and reorganizing your shared record collection (they’re chronological now)…

“we don’t have to do this,” you reminded him.

“i know. i want to, though,” he assured you. “i’m just nervous about what it will be like to see you with someone else…” he trailed off but you knew what he was implying. he was afraid his jealousy would get the better of him.

you rubbed his back comfortingly as you listened. “well, we can stop at any time.”

he nodded and took your hand, squeezing it once. “the same goes for you, you know.”

you checked the clock. “shouldn’t he be here by now?”

“have you ever known vernon to be on time?”

“fair enough.”

he gets there around fifteen minutes later, looking just as nervous as your boyfriend. maybe even more so. but once joshua goes over the arrangement again and everyone starts taking their clothes off, they both seem a lot more relaxed.

“you can kiss her, you know,” joshua murmurs from his side of the room, apparently dissatisfied with the pace of things. “as long as you don’t leave any marks.”

“is that ok?” vernon asks you.

“yeah, kiss me,” you encourage, pulling him by the shoulders until his nose is just inches from yours.

he closes his eyes and leans in, meeting you halfway. it’s a weird feeling, kissing someone who isn’t your boyfriend, but it isn’t bad. embers of excitement from the unfamiliarity of it all are quick to spark between you, quelling the anxiety and igniting something carnal inside you both. vernon’s the first to use tongue, much to your surprise. a startled moan leaves your lips as he slips his tongue between them.

you’re not sure how much time passes before he pulls away but when he does you’re taken aback by his appearance. your boyfriend’s best friend, always so reserved and quiet, looks like a completely different person.

vernon’s always been handsome of course, but you’ve never looked at him like you’re looking at him now.

he looks almost vampiric, pale skin glowing in the dim light of the table lamps lit on your nightstands. his cheeks are flushed pink with heat and his lips are a little swollen from kissing you so deeply.

“can i touch you too?” he asks, breathless.

“yes, please,” you gasp, “please touch me.”

his hand slides down between your bodies to where your legs are already spread for him. you’d be embarrassed about how eager you are for another man in front of your boyfriend if he wasn’t currently watching the two of you while he palmed himself over his boxers.

everyone had just undressed to their underwear so no one’s naked yet but vernon appears to be intent on changing that for you. he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to both him and joshua as he pushes a finger inside of you.

your grab on to him for stability, head falling slack against his shoulder.

“add another one, she likes the stretch,” joshua advises.

vernon stiffens a bit— you can’t tell whether it’s from annoyance at being told what to do instead of being allowed to figure it out himself, or if it’s because he had forgotten your boyfriend was still there altogether, but he does what he’s told nonetheless.

the effect is immediate. you moan, maybe a little too loud, and try to muffle yourself in vernon’s shoulder. your first instinct is to bite him, because that’s what you do with joshua when things start feeling intense, but you don’t know him like that. you don’t know if it’s something he’s into. still, your grip around his bicep tightens as he continues to finger you, nails threatening to dig into his skin.

“you can mark me up,” he tells you with a smirk, like he can read your mind. “i don’t mind.”

you take him at his word, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. he moans at the feeling and it’s only then that you realize you could be touching him too. you reach for him but before you can get your hand on him he leans back to look at joshua.

“can i eat her out?”

your boyfriend considers his friend’s request for a moment before answering.

“yes, but she can’t suck you off.”

you wilt a bit but you know joshua didn’t make that rule to punish you. he was already sharing so much of you by exploring this kink that you can’t blame him for wanting to keep part of you for himself. you’re honestly surprised he’s letting vernon go down on you in the first place.

vernon tsks. “i don’t care about that, i just want to taste her. lay back for me, baby.”

you do, but not before scooting up the bed so that vernon can comfortably lay on his stomach between your legs. joshua comes to your side and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“how’re you doing, baby?”

“good,” you say through a hazy smile.

“yeah? his fingers feel good?”

“mhm…”

“i bet his mouth will too.”

you can see how hard joshua is through his boxers, can see the small dark spot where precum had seeped through the fabric. you’re relieved to know he’s enjoying it just as much as you are— maybe more. you long to touch him too. you try to, but he steps just out of reach. is no one going to let you jerk them off tonight?

you’re distracted by vernon again before you can protest.

“let’s get these off of you,” he murmurs, tugging at the elastic of your panties.

you lift up so he can slide them down your legs. he gets them off in record time and shoulders himself between your thighs, kissing his way up to your pussy. first your knee, then your inner thigh, then the crux of your hip.

“not too much now,” joshua warns from his corner.

you roll your eyes. “shua…”

“what! i’m just reminding him not to get too comfortable!”

“that’s fair,” vernon interjects. “sorry.”

joshua mumbles something else but neither you or his best friend catch it because vernon had already buried his face in your cunt.

“oh, fuck,” you gasp, hands flying to his hair.

he’s eager for it, that much is clear. he only sucks on your clit for a couple of seconds before going straight to tongue-fucking you, as if that had been his goal this whole time. you figure he must feel like he has something to prove— or he just really likes eating pussy.

it’s good. he’s good. too good. he’s not better at it than joshua, but he is about to make you cum in a few seconds flat which is a problem because you never cum that fast with your boyfriend.

it’s probably a mixture of vernon’s aggressive technique and how hot you find this whole arrangement to be but you still don’t want it to make joshua feel some type of way so you try your best to hold off a little longer.

you conjure up sad thoughts, try thinking about all the chores you need to do, all the things you’ve heard men do when they try and stave off an orgasm but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

“already, baby?” joshua muses, drawing your attention to him again.

he’s degrading you like he normally would in bed but you can tell he’s at least a little pissed off from the way his eyes are wider than usual.

“is he that good?”

you shake your head adamantly, fumbling for words. “n-no! i mean he’s good but uh, i don’t-”

between your legs, you can feel vernon smirking against you. you want to smack him but you can’t feel your arms anymore.

joshua scoffs in disbelief and tongues his cheek as you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. always the gentleman, though, he leans down and offers you his hand for you to anchor yourself as you cum.

"you're not a very good liar, angel," is all he says as you give up on fighting it and let it hit you. you squeeze his hand hard, back arching off the mattress, pushing your hips further into vernon's face.

vernon doesn't stop until your body goes slack and joshua doesn't let go of your hand until vernon stops.

they let you catch your breath before either of them speaks again. vernon is still grinning as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. he's dripping with you but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, going as far as to lick the remnants of you from his fingers as if he hadn't just had his head between your thighs less than a minute ago.

"she tastes so fucking good," he murmurs.

"i know," your boyfriend mutters.

"lucky bastard."

joshua turns his attention to you, expression softening when he sees how dazed you look. “you okay, baby?”

you nod with a smile. “mhm.”

“do you want to keep going? do you need a break?”

“wanna keep going,” you say as you prop yourself up on your elbows and look between the two of them. “if you guys do, obviously.”

“fuck yeah,” vernon exhales, making you and your boyfriend laugh.

“you brought condoms, right?” joshua asks.

you and joshua don’t use condoms anymore so you didn’t have any on hand. the two of you debated picking some up beforehand but joshua wasn’t sure what size to get so he just told vernon to bring some himself. problem solved.

“uh yeah,” vernon answers, grabbing his jeans off the floor and fishing a handful of them from one of the pockets. “i didn’t know how many to bring,” he says sheepishly.

“if we don’t use them all today, we can save them for another time,” you assure him.

joshua and vernon react at the same time. “another time?!”

“like if this goes well, right?”

joshua pretends to be annoyed but you can see the little smile that he tries to hide behind his hand, secretly pleased that you're enjoying this as much as he is.

vernon's quick to get the condom on and his boxers off, ripping the packet open with his teeth and rolling the latex down to the base of his cock.

he isn't longer than joshua but he is thicker. he's really thick, actually. your mouth waters at the sight and you clench around nothing, feeling even more hollow than you had when he first took his fingers out of you.

"she's got a bit of a size kink," joshua informs his friend, following your gaze to his dick.

"that's not true!" you protest.

"it's a little true," joshua insists.

vernon just grins. he clearly doesn't care about the truth, whatever it is. he's just happy to know you like what you see.

"josh, what position do you want me in?" vernon asks.

joshua doesn't even have to think about it. "either from behind or tabletop. regular missionary is too intimate."

you have to agree. even though it feels incredible, you wouldn't want to experience that with anyone but joshua.

"do you have a preference?" vernon asks you.

"let's do tabletop," you decide. "i want to see you."

"i was hoping you would say that," he admits. "we can switch positions later on if you want."

"you think you'll last that long?" you tease, reaching out to stroke him once or twice just to see him react.

vernon hisses and jerks away from you, cock twitching against his stomach. "good point," he grits out, "we'll cross that bridge if we get to it."

he gets up off the bed and walks around to the foot of it, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling until you're flush with his hips.

"damn dude," joshua says under his breath.

vernon ignores your boyfriend's comment even though he's blushing, choosing to put his full focus on you instead. you're already squirming beneath him, desperate to feel him for the first time.

"are you ready?"

"yes."

"are you sure?"

"god, vernon, if you don't put it in alr-"

the threat works. he pushes himself inside of you in one go, face scrunching up as he fists the sheets beside your head to steel himself.

"god damn it," he chokes out, legs trembling. it sounds suspiciously like a sob but you're too busy trying to adjust to his size to call him on it. "fuck, how do you feel so good?"

"it's insane, right?" joshua gloats. "she's perfect."

"it's not fair..." vernon whines, mostly to himself.

"how does he feel, baby?" joshua asks you, coming close and petting your hair again. he then wipes the tears from the corners of your eyes and then presses the same fingers against your mouth, the salt stinging your swollen lips.

"he f-feels good." your answer comes out muffled against his hand but it seems to satisfy your boyfriend and your lover nonetheless.

he feels better than just good, he feels fucking incredible. the stretch is so intense you feel like you're about to be split in half but you aren't able to articulate that with how overwhelmed you are.

vernon gathers himself eventually but it takes several deep breaths and what sounds like a prayer for strength before he continues.

"can i move?" he asks you, the request bordering on begging.

"yeah, please. please fuck me."

he gives a couple of experimental thrusts before building up to a steady rhythm, each one feeling better than the last. you're so wet that the glide of him inside of you is almost too easy but there's still a bit of resistance due to how thick he is.

"how do you like it?" he grunts, "fast, slow?"

"th-this is good," you say.

"rub her clit," joshua adds.

"i was getting to that," vernon mutters.

he slows down and snakes a hand between your legs, feeling around for it until he feels you tighten up around him.

"there we go," he whispers gently, repeating the pattern he remembers you liking the most.

"you're so fucking pretty, baby," you hear joshua say, making you reach out for him in search of his hand. he gives it to you immediately, squeezing affectionately and encouraging you to do the same. you always held hands during sex. it was a way you were able to anchor yourself to him, squeezing his palm whenever something felt particularly intense. it was comforting to have that translate here as well.

"i love you," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

a profession of love while another man is inside of you is a little strange, all things considered, but it still makes you melt.

"i love you too," you reply, before remembering the aforementioned other man inside of you. "sorry, is this turning you off?"

he doesn't even look fazed by it. "nah, it's fine. she got so fucking tight when you told her you loved her."

joshua smirks. "wanna know what else makes her tight?"

"what?"

your boyfriend lets go of your hand, promising to come back, and rounds the bed to whisper something in his best friend's ear. vernon's eyes get wide and his hips stop moving.

"for real?"

joshua just nods as he takes his place by your side again, offering you an innocent smile that you don't buy at all.

vernon exhales harshly and shakes his head like he has to psych himself up for whatever he's about to do or say, which makes sense when he leans forward and wraps a hand around your throat.

you gasp in surprise but clench around him almost immediately, just like joshua said you would. he only applies a little bit of pressure but it's enough to have the desired effect.

vernon curses and stutters forward, eliciting what sounds like a whimper as he struggles to get his other hand back between your legs.

"told you."

"i'm not going to last," vernon stammers, looking away from his best friend in embarrassment.

"you can cum whenever you want."

"but sh-she hasn't yet..."

"i'll take care of that, don't worry," joshua assures him. "you made her cum on your face already, remember?"

"but i, i... fuck," his voice breaks off into a whine, the rest of the sentence dissolving on his tongue. it's like he can't stop fucking you, can't even slow down, even though he doesn't want to cum yet.

"come on, give it to me," you sigh out.

he gives in finally, practically collapsing on top of you as he cums into the condom. he weakly thrusts himself through it, kissing you to swallow the noises he's making.

he's still twitching inside of you when he catches his breath.

"sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes. "i didn't mean to-"

"baby, it's fine," you tell him earnestly. "we wanted you to feel good."

he pouts but nods like he understands and pulls out with a groan.

"and like i said," joshua interjects, patting his friend on the back as he trades places with him and notches the head of his cock inside of you. when he took his underwear off, you have no idea, but you can't bring yourself to care when he bottoms out and offers you his hand one last time. "i'll take care of the rest."

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jeonghan, sub!jeonghan, virgin!jeonghan, afab reader, reader is a lil bit of a pervert (for jeonghan duh), smut, handjob, body worship, etc.

wc: 1573

a/n: i had never considered loser!jeonghan til anon mentioned him but lmk if u guys would like a pt. 2!!

masterlist

yoon jeonghan had to be the prettiest boy you had ever seen.

he had the cutest smile, the biggest doe eyes you'd ever seen, – hidden behind the nerdiest rims known to man, but still – the most adorable yet dorkish smile, and fuck, his hair was the most angelic shade of blonde and hung down to his shoulders.

it was a mystery to you how the boy didn't have all the girls swooning for him. okay, so maybe he was socially awkward and a bit of a loser, but who didn't love themselves a cute loser?

since the moment you'd spotted him in your physics course, you'd been wanting a chance to get him alone and do every depraved act known to man on the boy.

you knew be was a virgin (or at least that's what your mutual friend josh had told you), so getting the chance to rob him of his innocence was something you couldn't stop thinking about. and you also knew he liked you back (information also courtesy of joshua).

technically, you couldve already approached him and propositioned yourself to him, but you didn't want to scare him off. no, you wanted it to happen naturally. except that every passing day, you became more and more desperate for the boy, almost unable to pay attention in class in favor of staring at him.

then god finally smiled down on you and granted you the perfect chance to defile the boy.

it wad kind of embarrassing, really, the way in which you immediately ran to the other side of the classroom and pushed joshua out of his seat in favor of partnering with jeonghan for the final project. joshua simply chuckled, knowing this day was going to come eventually. jeonghan, on the other hand, seemed frozen in place, staring at you with wide eyes and a cute blush on his cheeks.

thank god for public decorum, because you would've taken him right then and there.

fast-forward to the end of the class and you had managed to make plans to meet at your dorm the following day. it had taken some effort to get conversation out of jeonghan, as he would refuse to make any form of eye contact and shyly stare down at his notebook instead. luckily for you, you were extroverted enough for the both of you.

that was how you ended up in your dorm room almost a whole day later, dressed down in your skimpiest loungewear and with a few snacks prepared on your coffee table (you had also stocked up on condoms just in case, but those were likely to be used later on).

opening the door, you welcomed the pretty boy, holding back a smile at the way his eyes widened at your lack of clothing. you decided not to be too forward and let him in, directing him to the couch and taking a seat by his side.

you only managed to do some work for less than an hour before you suggested a break.

"jeonghannie, don't you wanna take a quick break? i can make you a tea or something," you suggested.

"o-oh, no, that's fine. we can take a break, though, if, if you want," he stammered, wincing at himself due to how clearly nervous he was.

"sorry," he sighed, "i-i'm not usually this awkward, i swear. you can ask joshua."

"oh?", you tilted your head to the side, turning to face him on the couch, "what's making you feel awkward? is it me?", you asked.

"no! it's just," he adjusted his glasses, taking another breath, "y-yeah, you make me kind of nervous," he admitted.

you lightly laid your hand on his thigh, causing an intake of breath from him, "you don't have to be nervous," you leaned closer, "can i tell you a secret?", you whispered.

he leaned closer to you, turning so you could whisper into his ear, yet clearly shivering at the proximity.

"you make me a little nervous too."

turning back around, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly not knowing what to say.

interrupting, you continued, "you're just so pretty ... been wanting to build up the courage to talk to you all semester," you pouted, lifting your hand to caress at his cheek, humming when he furrowed his eyebrows and instinctively pressed his cheek to your hand.

"hannie ... can i call you hannie?", you asked.

"yes, c-call me whatever you want," he stammered.

you got even closer, noses almost touching as you stared down at his lips, "can i kiss you, hannie?"

"y-yes, please. please kiss m-"

you cut him off with a soft kiss against his top lip, letting your tongue come out at the end and give it a teasing lick.

groaning far too deeply for a simple kiss, jeonghan's hands became fists on his lap, eyebrows still furrowed as if he were in pain.

he was just the cutest thing. and you needed to do something about how frustrated he was making you feel.

again, you pressed your lips to his own, this time going for a heavier kiss. both your hands went to hold his face in your hands, positioning him so you could kiss him how you liked. he was shy in copying your movements, forcing you to be a bit more aggressive in your kisses so he'd try and follow along.

eventually he came to obey your silent demands and open his mouth for you, allowing his tongue to play with your own in a timid way. unable to control yourself at how adorable you found his shyness, you came to scoot onto his lap, straddling him as he gasped into your mouth.

"hands on my hips, hannie," you mumbled against his lips, placing his lip hands on your hips.

his nimble fingers would dig into your skin any time you suckled on his tongue, causing you to do it over and over again.

you made out for a while, with him eventually being able to match the pace of your kisses and even letting his tongue dance with your own.

"hannie ..." you breathed out, "can i make you feel good? hmm?", you muttered, hands coming to unbutton his shirt, receiving no complaint from him.

"w-what are you gonna do to me?", he stuttered, letting you remove his shirt altogether.

your fingers faintly trailed up and down his chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake. he moaned and shivered when they made their way to his nipples, toying with them meanly.

"so fucking pretty ..." you muttered almost to yourself, "just wanna see you, bunny. wanna touch you and make you feel good. is that okay, pretty?"

the twisting and pulling of his nipples continued, making his eyebrows furrow and his mouth open with heady breaths, "yes ... do whatever you want, just- please."

thanking him with a kiss, you leaned closer to him, letting your hands slowly trail down to his pants, sneaking a hand past the belt you so-easily undid in the process. his cock was already hard, begging for you to pull it out from beneath his boxers and play with it.

stroking him with both hands while your mouth made its way to lick at his sensitive chest, you hummed in satisfaction at any and every moan and gasp of pleasure the pretty boy let out.

"do you like this, bunny? like my hand on your dick?"

"it's so good ... feels so fucking good, i- please dont stop," he whined, glasses foggy due to his heavy breath.

your mouth made its way back to his own, licking at his open lips and speeding up the movements of your hand. you knew he'd likely cum very soon, with this clearly being his first assisted orgasm. but it didn't matter. all you wanted was to see the pretty boy fall apart as a result of your touch.

"i'm gonna- fuck, i'm sorry, i'm gonna cum ... c-can i? please, need to- fuck, please," he pleaded pathetically, voice getting so high and breathy.

it made you lose your mind, the way he truly became the embodiment of a pretty angel feeling the touch of a woman for the first time. a sick part of your brain wanted to make sure you were the only person to ever touch him. you wanted him to come back to you again and again, needing your touch.

"cum, bunny. be a good boy and cum, okay? it's okay, just wanna make you feel good," you whispered encouragingly into his ear, smiling when you felt him immediately let go.

"t-thank you thank you thank you, oh, it's so- thank you, it's so good, so fucking- so fucking good," he cried as he trembled under you, head thrown back and eyes glassy.

you kissed his neck throughout his high, whispering encouraging words against his skin as he came down from it, thanking you consistently until the end.

"thank you, that was- that was amazing," he breathed shyly.

"yeah? you were so good, baby. glad it felt good," you smiled as you ran your fingers through his long hair.

"uh, i- what about you," he muttered, unable to make eye contact.

"that's okay, baby. i can show you how to make me feel good next time."

"next time?", he asked with wide eyes and the ghost of a smile.

"yeah, baby. thought that was it? no, pretty," you responded condescendingly, "i'm gonna keep you all to myself now."

[hazbinwhoree]

OMG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CAN U DO A

yandere adam x reader x yandere lucifer

like basically durning the last extermination adam sees the sinner and basically fall heads over wings for them

and yk durning the heaven meeting he made a globe to watch angel dust i feel like he makes that globe thing to watch the reader see how there doing and sees that lucifer is too close to them

i feel like he would try to do anything to get them into heaven with him and far away from lucifer be he already took his first wife and maybe his second and he doesn’t want him to take his third wife

(SORRY IF ITS LONG)

The Third Wife

Part 1/2 Part 2

Yandere!Adam x Reader x Yandere!Lucifer

A/N: I had fun writing this but I don’t plan on a part 2 because I don’t know where to take it from here. I hope you enjoy!

Lucifer had taken Lilith, and Eve, and now he was going to take (Name). He met her first, it wasn’t fair Adam was trying to steal her. (Name) was a human on Earth who had summoned Lucifer a few months back to strike a deal. Lucifer found her adorable and endearing and found himself slowly catching feelings. He planned to convince her to join him in Hell.

Adam had Lilith stolen from him by Lucifer. Then Eve. He’d be damned if he lost (Name) too.

He first met (Name) during an extermination, (she had died and reincarnated as a sinner) and to his own surprise, he fell hard. He became obsessive, spending most of his free time in Heaven holed up in his room watching (Name) through his globe. He had to make sure she and Lucifer weren’t getting too close while he tried to figure out how to get (Name) into Heaven.

To Adam’s dismay, (Name) joined the princess’ stupid hotel. That meant more time spent with Lucifer. Adam couldn’t let that happen. The more he watched, the more possessive Lucifer began to act over (Name). It infuriated Adam. He came to the conclusion there was only one way to get (Name) away from Lucifer to be with him.

He was going to approve of Miss Sunshine and Rainbows’ Hazbin Hotel.

Lute was appalled when he told her. “But why, sir?” “None of your fucking business,” Adam snapped. “Tell the bitch princess I want another meeting.”

Adam actually came to Hell to meet with Charlie.

“So…” Charlie looked skeptical. “What’s this about? I thought you were too good to come to Hell outside of the extermination.”

“I’m giving your stupid little hotel the green light.”

“What?” Both Charlie and Vaggie’s jaws dropped.

Adam rolled his eyes. “Don’t shit your panties.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Vaggie asked suspiciously.

“Doesn’t matter. You gonna give me a tour so I know what I’m agreeing to?”

Charlie wasn’t nearly as suspicious as Vaggie. “Of course!” She was practically bouncing with excitement. “Come with us!”

When they entered Hazbin Hotel, all the residents stopped what they were doing to stare. Adam made eye contact with (Name). She was the only one who mattered.

“What is he doing here?” The porn demon asked.

Charlie linked her arm through Adam’s and he tried not to grimace. “Adam has agreed to the Hazbin Hotel! We’re giving him a tour!” The residents looked skeptical. Except for (Name), who smiled and waved at him. His heart fluttered.

Charlie dragged Adam around the hotel, talking his ear off and introducing him to different residents and discussing their progress. When she got to (Name), Adam cut her off. “We’ve met.”

“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed. “Good!”

“Charlie–” a voice sounded from down the hallway. Lucifer had rounded the corner, calling his daughter’s name, but he stopped abruptly when he saw Adam. “What the fuck.”

“Dad!” Charlie tugged Adam over to him. “Adam said yes to the hotel!” “Did he now?” Lucifer narrowed his eyes at Adam. Adam narrowed his back. The energy was palpable as they stared one another down. “Your change of heart wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with (Name), would it?”

Adam smirked and answered with silence. Lucifer was fuming. “Alllright… that’s enough of that. I’ll talk to you later, Dad!” Charlie broke them up, leading Adam back to the lobby.

At the door, far enough from any nosey ears, Adam stopped Charlie. “The agreement comes with a stipulation, princess.” Charlie’s face fell. “Relax, sweetie, it’s not a big deal. If sinners are cleansing their souls and coming to Heaven, I want (Name) to be the first.” Charlie looked relieved. “Deal!” They shook on it.

When Adam left, Lucifer approached his daughter. “You can’t trust him, Charlie, he definitely has ulterior motives.” “He only had one stipulation,” Charlie smiled. “(Name) is to be the first sinner redeemed!” “What?”

Lucifer was furious. He knew Adam had been up to something.

“Tell me you didn’t agree, Charlie.”

Charlie looked confused. “I did… why wouldn’t I? (Name) is here to be redeemed, who cares about the order?”

“I care! Because I was going to convince her to stay in Hell!”

Charlie was surprised. “What, why?”

But Lucifer was already storming away. He stormed straight to (Name)’s room and banged on the door. She answered it, and as soon as she did, Lucifer pushed his way into the room and shut the door.

“Well, hello to you too,” (Name) said sarcastically.

“I want you to stay in Hell.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay in Hell,” Lucifer repeated. “Why?” (Name) asked. “Because I’m in love with you!”

(Name)’s mouth fell open, moving as she tried to form words, but nothing came out.

Lucifer took her hands in his. “Please. Say something.”

“Lucifer that’s… that’s a lot. I care about you, a lot, I do, but I want to go to Heaven. My quality of life down here is shit, and you can’t change that.”

“But I can!” Lucifer insisted. “Be mine and I’ll give you everything you could possibly want.”

“I’m sorry,” (Name) said, looking sympathetic. “I want Heaven.”

Lucifer continued to try to get her to change her mind over the next month as she worked to be redeemed, but before he knew it, her soul was cleansed and Heaven was ready to take her.

Adam was of course the first to greet her, a massive grin on his face. “Welcome to Heaven, babe! Congrats on getting out of that shithole. Let me show you around.” He offered her his hand, and his face warmed under his mask when she took it without hesitation. He had won.

Lucifer was scheming, no doubt, but for now, Adam had won.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hi! It's me again! 🤗

I was reading about the awful things that happened to Aegon in the brothel. Him so desperately trying to be taken care of and only finding more abuse broke my heart 🥺 and also got me thinking... What if he doesn't have a good, loving wife to make it all better? 😭 What if instead, one of the workers (Reader) finally takes pity on him and treats him the way he needs so much? Taking him away from the awful workers and under her wing? I imagine he would become instantly addicted. Never letting other worker touch him again. Only accepting her services. I bet he would get possessive as well. Paying an enormous amount of gold to be the only one that can touch her.

Do you think he would dare bring her to live in the castle? Or even more scandalous, actually MARRY her? Or he would be too scared of his pious mother's reaction (as well as the rest of the kingdoms') to a whore becoming queen? There is also the possibility of him just gifting her a big house with servants, close to the castle, so he can visit whenever he wants needs... Sooooo many possibilities! 😳

What do you think?

Oh my god. Are you sure you don't want to take over this blog because this is INCREDIBLE??? I am obsessed. I actually think I'm gonna tag this with 'subby Aegon!au' so that we can discuss this more and you guys can easily use the tag to find everything about this because I fear this may be my new obsession.

Anyway, NSFW sub!aegon that starts very angsty but has a happy ending under the cut!!

So for anyone who missed the post that inspired this, we were discussing how Aegon would know he was a submissive and go to a brothel to submit to the workers there. He desperately wants to just be loved and cared for and feel like a good boy but none of the workers will do that and he doesn't quite have the language to explain what he wants/needs. So instead he just ends up going through all this abuse and humiliation and degradation just to hear them say he did well at the end. He always goes into subdrop afterwards and he feels so terrible but he also can't stop going because it's the only time that he actually feels like he's good enough.

For this AU, I think it makes the most sense that you first encounter Aegon after he's had a scene with someone else? Cause Aegon always pays very VERY well and so the brothel workers who have dominated him always ensure that no one else can lay with him because they want all that money? Like maybe the madam of the brothel you work at has a very strict rule that no one other than her is allowed to lay with the king. Of course there's plenty of rumours going around the brothel about what he likes he and pretty much everyone knows that the madam dominates him.

You first encounter Aegon after he finished a particularly brutal scene with the madame. Half an hour later when the madam wants to use that room again he's still laying there? He hasn't even gotten dressed, is just laying there with a thin blanket wrapped around himself.

The madam does not want to deal with him because she knows from experience that he gets all clingy and weepy after a scene and so she sends you in to kick him out. Well, she tells you to kick him out.

But then you walk in and he just... he looks so small? You slowly walk over and gently place your hand on his shoulder. He jumps up and scrambles off the bed, mumbling apologies because he knows the madam told him to leave and he still hadnt.

You quickly tell him it's alright, that he's done nothing wrong and the look he gives you is just so heartbreaking? He's all wide eyed and shocked and there's a very very small smile on his face when he whispers, "Really? I... you're sure? I'm good?"

Which, yeah there's no way you're kicking him out now. You help him get back into his clothes and then take him to your private room. The rule is supposed to be no clients in the personal quarters, but this is quite literally the king so you don't see anyone complaining.

You keep an arm wrapped around his waist, guiding him like that and he just leans against you? You can't believe that the madam doesn't stay with him after she dominates him, especially because he's just so sweet? He's leaning against you, mumbling thanks and letting you lead him without complaint. He's so sweet and vulnerable and you can't believe the madam would leave him and not care for him.

He's so shocked when he finds himself in your private quarters, and he's even more surprised when you wet a rag and gently clean the tears off his face. He leans into every one of your touches, trying to soak up as much attention as he can.

You ask him if you can undress him again so you can clean him properly, and he just starts sobbing and throws himself in your arms because he can't believe how lucky he is. You just hold him and tell him that he's doing so good, that you just want to get him cleaned up a little more and then he can take a nice nap with you.

He closes his eyes and cries silently as you clean him. There are welts on his back from the madam's whip so you have to ensure you clean them properly or risk infection. You expect to have to clean dried cum from between his thighs but to your surprise there's nothing?

When you ask, he just wines and mumbles, "Wasnt good, couldnt cum" which just breaks your heart because you refuse to entertain any possibility that this sweet little thing wasnt absolutely perfect.

You finish cleaning him and you're about to help him get his clothes back on when he just kinda collapses onto the bed. You don't even bother with that then and instead you just get into bed with him.

"Come here," you tell him, opening your arms and he immediately dives right in. You hold him tight and when you press a kiss to the e top of his head he just melts into you.

When he wakes, he's hard. He tries to apologise for it but you won't hear it, and you ask if you can help him. He tries to shake his head and say that he can't go through that again, but then you interrupt him and promise him that you only mean helping him cum and do nothing else.

He's so sweet when you stroke him, mumbling how good it feels and begging to cum and after he does, he even takes your hand and licks it clean? He's just the bed boy and he's clearly trying so so hard to please you, so you make sure to praise him constantly because the poor thing deserves it.

The next time he comes to the brothel, he tells the madam to get lost and asks for you. He won't even consider another, not after you cared for him and praised him and made him feel safe. Of course the madam is not happy about this, but she cant stop him and so he goes to the room and waits for you.

When you walk in and ask why he's asked for you, he just says that he really liked you from before. And then he actually looks nervous? Like you might tell him that he has to go back to the madam.

You tell him that as much as you'd love to, you can't do what the madam does to him. You explain that you can't degrade him or slap him or anything like that. But then he just smiles even wider and tells you he doesn't want that, he just wants what you did last time.

He seems all blushy and nervous and there's a very obvious tent in his breeches. You smirk then and say, "Aw, do you want me to take care of you? Yeah? Let me do all the thinking and you can just be my pretty good boy?"

Instantly he's slipping from the bed and down onto his knees, kneeling and nodding comically quick because yes. That's everything he's ever wanted and more.

And he's just so good for you? He listens to every single order, and he begs so prettily and his sounds are just insane. When it's over, you pull him into your chest and kiss his head and tell him he did so so well for you. He's just on cloud nine, because this is absolutely everything he's ever wanted and more.

When he leaves, he pays you double what he pays the Madam and when you tell him that's too much, he says that there's no amount of gold in the world that could be enough to thank you for how you looked after him. He asks if he can come back, if you'll let him do that again and of course you agree to let him.

The madam isnt happy with you of course, but she can't exactly force the king to lay with her instead. For about three weeks things continue like that, with Aegon visiting every few days and paying you very very handsomely. He always stays for a few hours after this, just getting cuddles and kisses.

After a while, the madam comes to you and is unhappy that Aegon will not be with anyone else. Aegon pays very handsomely and he also lets them basically beat him up, so of course the madam is unhappy that she no longer get aegon's time. Aegon, meanwhile, will not even look at another.

The next time Aegon comes to the brothel, you're with another client? As much as you wish that you could just see Aegon, if you did that then the madam would kick you out. The madam is overjoyed when Aegon walks in and you're with another client, because it means she can swoop in and tell Aegon you're busy but that she'd be more than happy to do it instead.

And Aegon just... he knew that obviously you had other clients, but knowing and actually being there while you were with someone else are two different things. His smile falls instantly, and he says that he doesn't want anyone else. The madam tries again, maybe even touching him and telling him to think about all the good times they had, which prompts him to stumble backwards and very firmly say that he won't be seeking the services of anyone else.

He ends up leaving the brothel and then comes back the following night and is so so relieved to find that you are free. He's much more whiney and clingy than you're used to, to the point where he cries if you even let go of his hand. You end up having to pull away o ask what's going on, because he seems very distressed. You hadnt seen him like that since you took care of him that first night.

He gets quiet and then eventually asks how many other men you see every day. You sigh, because you knew this question was coming and you're not sure what to say to him. You end up just saying that this is your job, and that the madam is already upset with you for being the only one he goes to so you can't risk only seeing him because then you'd almost certainly be kicked out of the brothel entirely and have no wear to live.

Before you had even finished speaking Aegon had already made up his mind to give you enough gold that you never have to be with anyone else. You try to tell him that's not necessary, but for him it absolutely is. He will not allow the only person who makes him feel good in the entire seven kingdoms to struggle to earn a living when he is quite literally the king.

At first you turn him down, stating that you have to earn your own way and that you can't rely on him.

And then he goes quiet for a moment before he just softly says, "But, I rely on you? We can rely on each other?" Which is just the sweetest thing you've ever heard. You kiss his head and let him curl against your chest, giving him a little squeeze before telling him that you won't let him pay everything, but you will ket him pay enough to the madam that she will allow you to only take clients of your choice and also to set aside 4 nights every week that are just for him. It's not everything he wanted, but it's pretty damn close. And Aegon is so obsessed with you that he will absolutely take 4 days a week of your undivided attention.

It carries on like that for a while, with you and him being together 4 nights a week and he's just... he's so sweet and he's so perfect and he loves being with you so much. Maybe sometimes he doesn't even want anything sexual? Which yeah is wild cause Aegon is pretty much always horny, but when he's getting so thoroughly fucked every second day, sometimes he just wants to be with you.

Even when he doesn't want something sexual, that is not at all to say he doesn't still want to come be with you. Aegon would sleep in the same bed as you every single night if he could. He also just loves being able to talk to you about his day? You always listen to him and offer him advice. He's never really even able to feel like he can decompress at the end of the day, but now he's always able to with you. He knows that the moment he walks through the doors, you will know how to help him.

I think that eventually you'd accept his offer of him being your only client, and the day you tell him that he is smiling and giggling for the entire day. He definitely buys you a little cottage close to the keep, and as much as you try to say he doesn't need to, he won't hear it.

In fact he actually loves providing for you like that? You do so so much for him and he knows he'd never be able to function without you and so to know that he can do something to help you is just amazing and it makes him so so so happy.

I absolutely adore this concept!! This ask is already insanely long so I'm not gonna go any further here but if anyone else has thoughts about this let me know!!! I'd love to discuss it more :))

[waywardxrhea]

loml - a Spencer Reid one shot

pairing: Spencer Reid x former BAU!fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: ~15k (this one's a beast whoops)

You left behind the BAU years ago and have been working as the captain of the police force in small town Montana when a string of murder-suicides catch your attention and you start looking into them. The BAU is called in and you become overwhelmed by feelings surrounding your ex-boyfriend Spencer Reid as you attempt to investigate this case and clear the air between the two of you.

content: canon-level violence, blood, swearing, anxiety, idiots in love

now playing: loml by taylor swift

not my gif, dividers by @firefly-graphics, and once again shoutout to my bestie @westernbitch for helping to come up with case details for this one!

A sharp knock broke the silence of your office and you looked up to see one of your reporting officers at the door with a look on her face that told you something terrible happened. “What's going on, Kate?” you asked, placing the file you were holding down onto the desk to give her your full attention. 

She sat down in the chair across from you and taking a shaky breath, she whispered, “There’s been another murder-suicide… It was Natasha and Hayden…” 

“Oh my God I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do for you or your family right now?” you asked, getting up and making your way around the desk to give the younger officer a hug. 

Kate’s sister and her boyfriend had taken off nearly two months ago for their freshman year at UCLA and weren’t due back until Thanksgiving. Maybe the pair didn’t agree on their majors like they originally decided or got spooked by the big life changes and decided that this was the best course of action. He did have a history of prior juvenile battery charges… Nonetheless it just wasn’t sitting right with you… Not after two other murder-suicides within the last four months. So after sending Kate home to be with her parents and remaining sibling, you went to investigate the crime scene. 

When you got back and had some time to do some thinking, you called one of your detectives into the office. “You wanted to see me?” came his voice as he stepped into the office a few minutes later. 

You stopped your fast-paced writing of theories to offer a polite smile as he sat down across from you after closing the office door. “I wanna see if you can connect the same dots that I am, Josh.”

“Okay, shoot,” he says, leaning forward with an eager smile. Josh had joined your squad a few months ago as a rookie detective and he was always ready to look into anything that came across your desk. 

“Six months ago the Fenways went away to mourn his cousin’s death in Florida. Then before anyone even knew they were back home, they both turn up dead in what was ruled a murder-suicide,” you started, tapping your pen along the paper sitting on the desk in front of you. “Then the Greenwoods turned up in the same situation a couple months later after going away on an Alaskan cruise.”

“Maybe that was the breaking point for both men. Everyone knew their marriages were on the rocks for months before that happened,” Josh said in a contemplative voice as he leaned back into his chair. “Losing a relative and driving all the way down to Florida and back could have caused some tension that made him snap. Same with being stuck on a boat for a few weeks. I heard they weren’t allowed to dock and were stranded on board for a week or so because of a conservationist protest. That would make anyone’s temper short.”

“That’s what I thought too,” you agreed. “However, Natasha Quinn and Hayden Welkins just turned up dead in another apparent murder-suicide.”

“No way!” Josh said, his eyes widening in shock at the news. He ran a hand over his chin and asked, “Is Kate okay?”

“She’s at home mourning with her family. She’ll be off for the next few days but I’m taking her off of this investigation,” you replied. 

“Investigation? Why is it a-?” he said, but then paused in the middle of his sentence. “Wait, you think there’s someone behind this, don’t you?”

“That I do,” you affirmed with a nod. “One was a tragedy, two could be a coincidence, but three? I think someone’s behind this. It could be someone manipulating them into killing.” You looked at the pictures of the dead bodies in the file you began creating and sighed. You scrunched your eyebrows together and shook your head as you said, “There’s so far been no signs of physical torture on the victims. They were all found days post-mortem in wooded areas off of trails though, so their bodies were worse for wear so we can’t exactly rule it out. Even then, psychological torture is a viable option.”

“So maybe the trips away weren’t even real… Maybe whoever is doing this created fake letters to send to all of the victims to make everyone in town aware that they would be gone so suspicion wasn’t raised…” Josh said as dots began to connect in his mind. “And as much as I hate to say this, Natasha and Hayden may have been a crime of opportunity. They could have been driving home exhausted when something happened and they were grabbed.”

A proud smile made its way onto your face at his theory and you nodded, telling him, “Exactly what I was thinking. Whoever this unsub is is getting sloppy and we’re going to get to the bottom of it.”

“W-wait, us? You want me on this?”

“As a rookie detective you just deduced what I did as a former FBI agent with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. You’ve got what it takes, Josh. So yes, I’m asking you to help me out with this case,” you said with an encouraging nod. “This is a small town and people talk, so let’s get out there and see what anyone knows.”

“Yes ma’am!” he said, jumping up from his chair and turning toward the door with a spring in his step. 

“And Josh?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“This case is on a need to know basis so it stays between us unless I tell you someone else is allowed to know about it. Got it?”

“Got it!” he said while giving you a two-finger salute and a sideways smile. 

“So be subtle!” you shouted with a laugh as he exited the office and set out to begin his investigation while you conducted yours. 

A few weeks later you were making some headway in the investigation on the murder-suicide case. One crisp November morning when you and Josh were talking with someone over coffee about what they knew of the Greenwoods and their supposed vacation, you heard a scream outside of the diner. With your eyebrows scrunching together, you looked outside only to see a man holding a woman in a chokehold with a gun pointed to her head. 

Rushing out of the diner, you made your way to the area near the fountain where he was at and held up your empty hands to show that you meant no harm. When you got closer you finally recognized the man and woman standing in front of you. They were a married couple that had moved to the town a couple of years ago after vacationing in the area. From the outside they were a happy couple, but you had heard around the rumor mill that she had cheated on him on occasion when she was drunk. 

“Hey,” you began in a soft voice, one you would use if you were approaching a skittish animal so you didn’t spook it off. “Hunter, can you please put the gun down? We can talk okay? Just let Hanna go and we can talk things out.”

“No!” he shouted, pointing the gun in your direction to fend you off. “She deserves this! He told me so!”

“What did she do to deserve this, Hunter?” you asked softly as you creeped closer slowly. All the while, the emaciated woman just stood there catatonically in his hold. There was no hint of light in her eyes and if you didn’t see her breathing you would have guessed she was already dead. “Who told you this?”

“All you women are the same! He told me that all you do is lie! All you do is take advantage of us and then leave when it’s convenient for you!” he shouted, voice strained and eyes with a wild look in them. It was a look you had seen too many times during your time in the BAU, but before you could take further action to try and talk the man down, the first shot already rang out followed in quick succession by the second. 

A whirlwind of emotions filled your body in response to the event and they paralyzed you as you stared at the pair of bodies on the ground in front of you. Shock, disbelief, horror, confusion. A roaring sound filled your ears as your mind flashed to the day you decided to leave the BAU, but your thoughts were torn away from that time when you felt hands on your shoulders gently shaking you back to reality. “Captain. Captain! Are you all right?” came Josh’s voice through the cotton feeling in your ears. 

“I need to call Emily…” you whispered in reply, the back of your hand going to wipe away some of the blood that had spattered onto your face and was starting to slowly drip down. It hurt your pride to call in your former team and you have always dreaded the day you needed to, but you knew that you were in over your head trying to solve this on your own anymore…

“Okay, will everyone gather around? We’ve got a case,” Emily Prentiss announced to her team as she strode into the bullpen of the offices of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. 

“What’ve we got this time?” Tara Lewis asked as she looked up from the paperwork she was finishing up at her desk. 

“It appears to be a string of manipulated murder-suicides up in Montana. I have it on good authority that the latest victim was implying that someone convinced him that his wife deserved to die and then he took his own life shortly after hers,” Emily informed the team as they gathered in the area. “The other acts were not witnessed but I’m sure if we did a deep dive into their personal lives we would find evidence that the other male victims believed the same of their partners. This is the fourth murder-suicide in the town in five months and the unsub seems to be getting more brazen with his acts so we’re wheels up in thirty.”

“Fourth in five months? Why did the locals wait so long to contact someone?” Luke Alvez asked, the corners of his mouth turning down into a frown at the thought of someone letting this go on for so long. 

“Because the captain is a former one of ours,” she replied, shooting Luke a look that said to not reprimand the actions of the officer. “She was working the case herself and was beginning to make headway when the unsub set the latest two out to commit the act in the middle of downtown. Happened right in front of her. This case is escalating and it’ll take more than one set of trained eyes on it to catch this guy.”

“A former one of our own? Who is she talking about?” JJ asked quietly to no one in particular.

“Oh I know exactly who she’s talking about…” Penelope Garcia said quietly with a glance in the direction of Spencer Reid who seemed none the wiser about who their unit chief was talking about. 

JJ followed Garcia’s glance and quietly gasped as she asked, “You don’t mean-?”

“Yes I do mean!” Penelope said conspiratorially as she leaned in closer to the blonde. “When she left, Spencer never contacted her because he was so broken up over Maeve’s death that by the time he was finally in a headspace to process the breakup and her leaving the team it was far too late to try and make amends so he just never did! He doesn’t know where she went and she cut off all contact with the team except for me and it’s been a secret that I have hated keeping for so long because I know we all loved her so very much!” Penelope took a deep breath and let it out as she slouched back in her chair as if keeping that in all these years was a heavy weight that had finally been taken off of her shoulders. “You can’t tell him though!”

“Why not? He deserves to know that he’s going to be walking into his ex-girlfriend's police station!” JJ whispered back. 

“If you had a nasty breakup with someone would you want to know you were heading to meet with them and have to stew in that anxiety and uncertainty for hours on the plane ride there?” Penelope asked, a stern look in her eye as she once more straightened up in her chair. “That big brain of his would work overtime trying to figure out what to say so that you would make zero headway on the case!”

“Fine…” JJ relented. A small smirk graced her lips as she added, “I’ll keep you in the loop with how awkward he gets.”

“You better!” Penelope said. An air of seriousness washed over her for a moment as she added, “I know this case may dredge up a lot of old memories for Spencer so can you just keep an eye on him?”

“Of course,” JJ replied. Penelope smiled in return before heading off to her office with a file of information to look into on the victims. 

Time went by paradoxically during the wait for the BAU to show up at your station. It went slowly because you dreaded the looks on everyone’s faces upon seeing you after nearly four years with no contact. As you showered the blood off of yourself in the staff locker room, your mind once more flashed back to the day you decided to leave the BAU. 

It had been months of feeling distant from Spencer as he got closer and closer with the geneticist you pushed him to go to in order to get to the bottom of the headaches that had been plaguing him on and off for some time. Maeve Donovan. May she rest in peace, but she was the reason your relationship with Spencer fell apart… As their talks got deeper and he opened up to her more, you felt like you were sloughed away from Spencer’s life, brushed off so he could take calls with her and discuss what for the most part never even sounded like his could-be battle with schizophrenia like his mother… 

You remembered the day he had wrapped a book to give her when they decided to first meet. You couldn’t even remember the name of the book, but the returning feeling of heartbreak made a quiet sob escape your mouth as you scrubbed the shampoo into your hair harshly. The dam finally broke as you remembered the day that you and the whole team took time off of the clock to help Spencer out with getting to the bottom of who was stalking Maeve and making her fear for her life. Tears flowed freely from your eyes and dripped down into the soapy water swirling into the drain as you pictured Spencer sobbing over Maeve’s body as she too was killed in a murder-suicide. Hearing him whisper the words that you hadn’t heard in weeks of “I love you,” to her as he cried was what sealed the deal because in your heart you knew Spencer didn’t love you anymore. 

It took a few more days to make the final decision but in a whirlwind of anxiety you had made many phone calls back home to your parents and they encouraged you to take some time away from the BAU to come home to Montana and figure things out. So you put your notice with Hotch in and quietly broke things off to a catatonic Spencer who was so bereft following Maeve’s death that he didn’t even react to the breakup. 

Once back home you spent a few months piecing yourself together before moving for a job offer you felt like you couldn’t refuse and since then had been promoted to Captain after a year. It wasn’t ever what you planned for your career, but life has a funny way of guiding you in the direction you’re meant to go. 

Turning to face the shower stream once again, you scrubbed your face with your face wash one more time to ensure you got all of the blood off before turning off the shower and beginning to dry yourself. You wiped away the steam from the mirror in front of you and looked at your reflection, squeezing your eyes shut as you pictured the blood on your face again. When you looked back up at yourself again, it was obvious that you had been crying so you made quick work of getting dried off and into a fresh set of clothes that Josh brought from your house before heading to your office to try and freshen up with the meager set of makeup you had in there. 

You were surprised to see your entire makeup collection on the desk and as you sat down to begin working the makeup on, Josh popped his head into your office, saying, “Hey Cap! Lindsey went with me to get your stuff and we grabbed all of that for you. Said something about seeing your ex-”

“I told you not to tell her that!” came the voice of another one of your officers as she made her appearance in the doorframe. She shot you an apologetic look and said, “I’m sorry I knew I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s just that-”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you said before forcing a cheery smile on your face at the pair in front of you. “Thank you two for getting the clothes and makeup from my place, I appreciate it.” You resumed your makeup with slightly shaking hands as you asked, “Now can you go make sure the work area is in the order I requested? Whiteboards and markers ready, corkboard cleared of the meme wars, desks available, coffee brewing with plenty of sugar because I know we were almost out earlier this morning.”

“Yes ma’am,” they chorused before taking off to get the space ready for the team’s arrival which would be… in less than an hour. 

The hour flew by as you went over the case file once again and you jumped as you heard a knock on your door that pulled you out of your concentration. Looking up, you couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your face as you said with quiet enthusiasm, “Emily! It’s been a while. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well. As you know I got promoted to Unit Chief after Hotch left. I see you’ve been getting some promotions too,” she said warmly as you stood up and offered your arms out for a hug which she accepted. “Garcia?” she asked simply and you knew she was asking how you had kept up with things in your absence, so you nodded. When you pulled away, she glanced at the notes on your desk and asked, “Are you ready for the brief with the team?”

The question made your heart jump in its cage. “Who all is left from my days on the team? What new faces can I expect?” you asked, trying to tiptoe around the elephant in the room. 

“Spencer’s here if that’s what you’re getting at,” she replied softly as she reached down and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“Damn profilers,” you said jokingly before taking a deep breath and gathering up your files to take to the main area of the station to meet with the team. 

Your heart hammered in your chest so hard you could practically feel it jumping up in your throat as you approached the meeting area. You busied yourself with your papers as you and Emily made your way over, sweat beginning to dampen your hands the closer you got. You practically stopped breathing when your eyes looked up and met Spencer’s. He looked as handsome as ever, maybe even more, and all at once you felt everything rushing back, waves of emotions threatening to engulf you as you struggled to breathe under his gaze. 

Spencer looked like a deer in headlights when he spotted you and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking at that moment. The look on his face suggested that no one told him that the case was being manned by you and while it made you happy that Penelope kept her word, you weren’t sure if the look of shock he was sporting was a good or bad thing… 

You were ripped away from your anxious thoughts and Spencer’s eyes as a cheer in a distinctive accent broke through the chatter of the office. Your name was called enthusiastically and you turned in the direction of the sound to see David Rossi sporting a wide grin as he held his arms out to embrace you. “How’ve you been kiddo?” David asked as he embraced you quickly before holding you at arms length to survey your features that had no doubt matured since he last saw you. 

“The last 24 hours or the last four years?” you asked with a quiet laugh. “I’ve been making it though. Can’t complain.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said before turning you toward the rest of the team and telling you, “That’s Tara Lewis and Luke Alvez, they’ve joined the team since your departure. I’m sure you’ll love them!”

You offered the two of them a smile before suddenly you were being pulled into a hug by JJ and when she pulled away you couldn’t help but wonder how the hell you were supposed to greet Spencer. You were always a hugger, everyone knew it, and you actually shocked the office when Spencer let you hug him just a few days after you joined the BAU. But that time felt like a distant memory and your eyes turned to the ground instead of looking back at the man who used to bring you so much comfort but at the same time, more than ever you wanted so desperately to be in his arms…

Thankfully you didn’t have to make a decision on the matter because Emily’s voice cut through the quiet roaring in your ears as she said, “Yes, yes we all missed her, but we can get back to the reunion later. Right now we’ve got an unsub to track down.” She called your name before asking, “What do we know?”

You cleared your throat and went into work mode, telling the team, “So far we have eight victims.” You began placing pictures of the scenes on the table as you listed off their names, “First was Nora and Henry Fenway who we as a town thought went off to Florida after Henry got the news that his cousin passed away. Big Catholic family who wanted to perform a lot of traditional stuff for the funeral. They were found over a month later by some tourists hiking through the trails on the outskirts of town.

“Next was Theresa and Harry Greenwood who were set to embark on an Alaskan cruise and got stuck in the water due to some conservationist protest. The protest story checks out, but when we called the cruise line a week or so ago, there was never a record of the couple on board, so we think that the cruise package they were boasting about winning was a ruse to make sure that the rest of us knew they were expected to be away for a while. They were found dead near a river off of a popular hiking trail.

“Third was the sister of one of my officers. Natasha Quinn and her boyfriend Hayden Welkins were thought to be off at UCLA for college but were found dead in an abandoned cabin that has been a known squatting location. Kate told us that there wasn’t too much contact from her sister during the time, but they all put it off to her being busy with school.”

You took a deep breath and tried to push the memory of the latest shooting out of your mind, but you could tell that your voice was distant as you detailed the latest pairing. “And just this morning it was Hanna and Hunter Newberry. He came out into the middle of downtown with Hanna in a chokehold and shot both her and himself but not before saying that ‘he’ told him that she deserved it.”

“Do we know anything about who ‘he’ might be?” JJ asked. 

“No idea,” you replied. “Josh and I have been doing some digging to see who started the rumors about the protest with the cruise, but it became a dead end when the first person who heard it said they just heard someone on the phone talking about it but they didn’t remember when it was or where they were.”

“You said that Kate’s sister didn’t have frequent contact. Does that mean she still texted occasionally?” Luke asked. 

“Kate and her family were getting occasional check-ins from Natasha, yes,” you confirmed. “Kate told me that the texts were pretty short for the most part though and that they didn’t really seem like her usual style of texting. She put it off to being busy between classes and trying to get into sororities though.” 

“I’ll have Penelope look into that,” Emily commented, taking down another note on the notepad she had in her hand. 

Your heart skipped a beat once more as Spencer’s voice cut through the air as he said, “All of the men’s names start with an H. I wonder if it could be the first initial of the unsub and he’s expressing himself through these killings. Maybe this is some twisted fantasy of his and he’s acting it out.”

“So you’re saying he might have an endgame?” David asked thoughtfully. 

“Yes, and I don’t think he’s going to stop until he gets her,” Spencer confirmed as he pondered over the photographs you left on the table before stepping away. 

“Then let’s get to work,” Emily said. She called your name to get your attention and informed you, “Tara and I will interview you about what you saw this morning. Spencer get started on the geographical profile. David head to the medical examiner’s office to see if there’s anything you can find on the bodies. Luke go see if you can get CCTV footage from the businesses around the crime scene. JJ start working with Josh to interview the other witness from this morning to see if she knows where the couple came from. I’ll patch Penelope in so she can get started on a list of men whose names start with an H that live in the area.”

“So can you walk me through exactly what happened this morning?” Tara asked you as you sat across from her and Emily in an interrogation room half an hour later. There was a part of you that for some reason felt like you were in trouble, but you understood the reason behind it. It was the easiest way to record the conversation and keep distractions from factoring into your memories of your encounter. 

“Josh and I were speaking with a cousin of the Greenways to see if they could give us some insight into how their marriage was when I heard a scream outside of the diner,” you replied quietly, eyes focused on the metal table between the three of you as you tried to remember everything. “When I got out, there was a bystander. She was the one that screamed and Josh took her away to make sure she didn’t get hurt.” You began picking at the sleeve of your sweatshirt as you continued, “I didn’t recognize the couple at first, they both looked worse for wear. Hunter is usually clean shaven but he had a wild beard that clearly hadn’t been taken care of and Hanna looked like her hair hadn’t been brushed in days… He had this wild look in his eyes and she just…she looked practically dead already.”

“How do you mean?” Tara asked curiously. 

“Well…there was no light in her eyes. Her cheeks were sunken in and she wasn’t even fighting. She just stood there,” you replied. “Even when Hunter was shouting and waving the gun there was no reaction whatsoever.”

“And what was Hunter shouting?” Emily asked. 

You paused for a moment and thought before replying, “He said, ‘She deserves this! He told me so!’ and then when I asked what he meant and who told him that he said something like, all women are the same and that he was told all we do is lie and take advantage of men and then leave when it’s convenient for us. And then…” you let out a sharp breath and closed your eyes as you remembered what happened next, “then he shot her and then himself.” You dabbed a tear away from the corner of your eye before adding, “I was so close to him when it happened… I… I just froze. Their blood was all over me and I just…” you didn’t even know how to finish your sentence as you let out a shaky breath, trying to hold your tears back and keep your hands occupied by messing with the hem of your sweatshirt. 

“It’s been a long time since you’ve been so close to something like that,” Emily offered quietly. 

“Exactly…” you whispered. “It reminded me why I left the BAU. When my anxiety and depression got so bad and I just couldn’t take it anymore… The job, life, everything was just too much. It broke me.”

“And that’s completely understandable,” Tara said empathetically, giving you a warm smile. There were a few moments of silence that were filled with her taking notes before she offered, “If you need a minute alone we can cover for you until you’re ready to go back out there.”

“Thank you,” you replied with a nod, leaning your head down onto your arms and feeling the cool metal of the table on your cheek to try and ground yourself before you slipped off into another breakdown. 

Meanwhile outside of the interrogation room, Spencer stood there with his heart breaking. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear JJ approach until she asked, “What are you doing? I thought you were supposed to work on the geographical profile.”

Spencer startled a bit before sighing and telling her, “I don’t know… I guess I just needed to know where her headspace was on everything.” He ran a hand through his messy hair and mumbled, “I really messed up with her, didn’t I? She said that this reminded her of when she left and that life was making her anxious before she even decided to go… That was because of me.”

JJ sighed and gave him a quick pat on the back as she replied, “Yeah, there’s no denying that you messed up big time…” She felt Spencer tense before she finished with, “But maybe you can at least ask for forgiveness. Take her to dinner and try to make amends.” Spencer nodded and threw you another glance before turning away and going to work on the geographical profile. 

When you emerged from the interrogation room, the team was either out on their assigned tasks or grabbing lunch, so you decided to get some quiet time with your files in your office while you tried to get some food down. You were pushing salad greens around in your tupperware when your phone began to ring and you picked it up with a, “Hello?”

“My sweet, sweet friend, oh how I missed your voice!” came Penelope’s cheerful voice through the speaker as her way of greeting you. 

“I’m sorry I don’t call Penny, I just… I was afraid of-” You cut yourself off and scoffed before finishing with, “Forget it, it’s dumb. You probably called about the case and I’m getting off track. What can I help you with?”

“No, no, tell me!” Penelope protested. “It is lunchtime there and no one is calling for anything so this has officially turned into a ‘tell Penelope all of your woes’ time!” 

You laughed quietly before asking, “And there’s no getting out of it?” 

“Unless there is literally another death while we’re on the phone then no,” she replied chipperly. 

Letting out a deep sigh, you decided that this wasn’t a battle you were going to win, so you told her, “I never called because I was afraid I would just open up old wounds. The thought of if we were on the phone and Spencer came in…it terrified me.” And suddenly, without even thinking about what you were saying, you blurted out, “And now here we are with him in the breakroom of my precinct drinking coffee that I made sure we had enough sugar for because I have never been able to fall out of love with Spencer Reid!” You covered your mouth to attempt to prevent the words from coming out but it was entirely too late for that. The truth was out there and Penelope had heard every word of it. 

“Oh honey…” she said in a quiet voice. 

You knew she didn’t mean it in a condescending way, but the building tightness in your chest after she said it was making it hard to breathe. You filled your lungs as much as they would allow before whispering, “I-I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, no, no! Don’t feel bad about your feelings!” she protested from her side of the line. 

“I-it’s just…” You took a slightly deeper breath before you began rambling again, telling her, “I’ve tried over and over and over again to find someone out here but it just never works. There was even this one guy back in April that was so sweet! Penelope, he picked me wildflowers while out on his guided hiking tours and arranged them into the most beautiful bouquets! He ordered me edible arrangements and had them sent to my office! He bought me coffee every morning in the diner when I was there picking up breakfast before coming into work! Hell, on our one and only date we had a candlelit picnic and he bought my favorite wine! That shit’s expensive! But I just couldn’t commit to him knowing that someone else still has my heart…and I don’t think there’s a way to get it back.” 

By the end of your rant, your tears were falling once more and you dabbed them away with a tissue or two as Penelope sighed and said, “I wish I could give you a hug right now… I had no idea you were still feeling that way.”

You scoffed quietly before asking, “Why would you? I should hate Spencer for what happened. He fell in love with someone else while still dating me and didn’t even flinch when I broke up with him because he was so torn up about her death. But…” You shook your head and finished quietly, “He’s the love of my life and it hurts so damn bad knowing that I’m not his.”

Before Penelope could offer anything else, there was a knock at your door and you looked up to see it cracking open to reveal Spencer’s handsome face with that awkward-as-ever smile crossing his lips. “Spencer, hey,” you whispered, your breath being knocked out of your lungs at his sudden appearance as you hoped that he didn’t hear anything you just said. 

“I think that’s my queue to go…” Penelope said quietly and in quick succession you heard the tell-tale sound of the call ending. 

“Hey, can I talk to you?” Spencer asked timidly as he opened the door a bit more to fully reveal himself. 

“O-of course,” you replied, hoping that it wasn’t too obvious that you had been crying. “Everything going okay out there? You holding up okay after…everything?” 

“I’m doing fine, yes,” He said with a quick nod. “I got the geographical profile down, but it’s in a weird pattern that I’m still trying to make sense of. All of the locations are in a strange arc sort of line without a centralized location that indicates a familiar area that the unsub is comfortable in. The first three sites were more so out in hiking areas in the woods so I thought it could be an avid hiker, but the latest one was so out in the open that it makes me wonder why the unsub chose that location. He isn’t escalating because there was still time for him to psychologically torment the victims before sending them out to commit the act so I’m trying to determine if maybe this was an outlier or if it’s a part of his endgame to have used that specific spot for that couple…” 

Your heart fluttered in your chest upon hearing him rant on about the profile he had created and you hoped he didn’t notice that your eyes were practically heart-shaped as you listened to his soothing voice ramble on about the case. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot before adding, “But uh…that’s not what I came to talk to you about.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and said quietly, “I was actually coming in here to ask if I could take you to dinner tonight. There’s a lot I feel like needs to be cleared up between us after…everything that happened. I know it may be wrong to ask for your forgiveness after so long but-”

“Yes,” you replied instantly, unable to fight the smile working its way onto your lips at the offer. 

“Y-yes?” he asked with an undeniable sparkle in his eyes as he too gave into his emotions and let his smile light up the room. 

You nodded and were about to say something more when Emily popped her head into the office after giving a short knock on the door, informing you both, “Garcia got us a list of possible suspects, let’s get to work.”

“Yes ma’am,” you and Spencer replied in unison, and you had to fight back the giddy giggle that threatened to bubble out of your mouth at the statement in stereo. 

That evening you took a quick trip to your house to freshen up before meeting Spencer. Even though you knew it wasn’t a date situation, you still took the time to make your hair look nice and put on a dose of perfume that you remembered Spencer liking. When you pulled into the parking lot of the cafe you and Spencer agreed to meet at and stepped out into the chilly November air, you pulled your coat close as you started toward the door. 

Before you could reach out to grab the handle though, another hand reached out and pulled it for you. Expecting to see Spencer holding the door open for you, your heart gave a stutter in your chest as suddenly the reality of the situation hit you. You would likely be discussing what happened back in Virginia, and that would mean talking about Maeve and the reason your relationship ended and that scared you. Sure, you had attempted to process everything yourself, but facing it head on would be an entirely different experience in which you would have to hear what made him fall out of love with you…

Your anxiety spiked for a completely different reason though when you looked up because when you did, your eyes met the very man you turned down because you still weren’t over Spencer. “Hartley, hey. Thanks,” you said quietly as you slipped through the door and into the warm building. 

“Looking for some company?” he asked as he walked in behind you and began attempting to help you take off your coat. 

Before you could respond, the hostess greeted you by name and asked how many were in your party. “There’ll be two, Rose,” you told her with a smile and she began reaching down to grab a couple of menus from behind the counter. While you were telling her this, you pulled away a comfortable distance from Hartley and began taking off your coat and gloves on your own. “I’m meeting someone actually,” you told him simply, tucking the gloves into a pocket and hanging the coat on the rack by the door.  

“Oh, okay,” he said slowly. “Are they late? I can get you an appetizer and drink while you wait,” he offered and you noticed his eyes moving around the restaurant in search of your intended partner. 

As he said this, the small bell above the door chimed and your eyes gravitated that way to see who was entering. Raising a hand in a wave, you greeted Spencer with a smile as he joined you at the hostess counter. He quickly took off his coat and racked it before running a hand through his messy hair and saying, “Sorry I’m a few minutes late, I was wrapping up something with Prentiss at the station!”

“It’s no problem, Spence. Rose was just about to take me to the table,” you assured him as you nodded your head toward the kind woman. 

“Great,” he said as the pair of you began following Rose to the table in the back corner she knew you preferred to dine at. 

“I guess I’ll see you around,” you said quietly to Hartley who was escorted to his usual spot at the bar by another hostess. 

“Who was that?” Spencer asked curiously after the two of you placed your drink orders. 

“Something that I assume will be addressed when we talk,” you admitted, feeling heat begin to crawl up your neck. Spencer nodded stiffly and remained silent in response to the comment, the tension only breaking when Rose came back with the drinks and said she would give Spencer a few minutes with the menu. 

“So what’s good to eat here?” Spencer asked timidly after a few more moments of silence as his eyes quickly scanned the menu. 

You let out a quiet sigh of relief at the fact that he wasn’t diving into the serious talk you needed to have and relaxed a little in your seat as you began raving over the menu items that you preferred and which ones you thought should be avoided. “And we have to get dessert, the pie here is to die for!” you gushed as you pointed out the dessert menu on the back. 

“Let me guess, the coconut cream is your go to?” Spencer asked, a small smile lining his lips. 

“Always,” you affirmed, a smile breaking out on your lips. “Remember that time when I-?” you tried to start, but couldn't even get through half of the sentence before dissolving into a fit of giggles. 

“When you were bringing a pie to the office and you tripped as you were putting it on the counter and tried to play it off as a pie eating contest with Morgan?” Spencer asked with a laugh and a sparkle in his eye at the memory. 

“Yes!” you said, more laughter spilling out of you as you remembered Derek’s reaction. “I still can’t believe he actually went along with it!” 

So that was how the two of you spent the next little while - reminiscing on the better times you two had at the BAU before your abrupt departure. That was, until Spencer’s eyes drifted slightly left over your shoulder as he asked once more, “Who did you say that guy was from earlier? He’s been glaring daggers this way the whole time we’ve been here…”

You sighed and nodded. It was time to face the music. So you took a deep breath and told him, “That’s Hartley. He flirted with me for months before I finally agreed to a date with him, but… Things just didn’t work out between us. Ever since then, he’s tried to get with me again, but I always turn him down.”

“Why’s that?” Spencer asked, his posture straightening the slightest bit at your words which you tried not to overanalyze as you instinctively studied his body language.

“I… It felt disingenuous to be with someone when my heart was still back in Virginia with you…” you admitted quietly as you pushed around some of the food on your plate to distract yourself and to avoid looking into Spencer’s eyes. When he didn’t say anything in response, your heart rate kicked up and you felt your palms start to sweat as you began rambling. “And I know that may sound crazy because it’s been so long but I just never got any sort of closure with you after everything that happened so I never really closed that part of my life away and so those feelings just…never left… I know you fell out of love with me, but it just isn’t that easy on my part…”

You wiped away a stray tear that escaped during your ranting and were about to open your mouth to apologize when Spencer whispered your name in a broken voice as he reached across the table to request your hand to hold. When you tentatively gave it to him, Spencer’s large hand wrapped around yours as he said in a quiet voice, “I know that saying this now doesn’t make up for all these years of silence, but I really am so sorry for what happened.” He cleared his throat and told you, “When you found Maeve for me and I started speaking with her about my headaches I finally felt seen. I thought I loved her because she was able to help me get through something that had been plaguing me for years. I was so excited to finally understand what was happening with me that I didn’t even realize that I had started to put you on the backburner. By the time I did, Maeve was dead and you had left and I didn’t know what to do so I just never reached out…” 

“Oh… I-I’m sorry I-” you started to say after a few moments. 

“No!” he exclaimed a little louder than he probably intended because you could see a tint of red creep onto his cheeks and he slouched into himself to try and make himself smaller. He squeezed your hand before saying in a quieter voice, “Please don’t blame yourself for anything that happened. Looking back I know that you were trying to be there for me, but I got hyper focused on what Maeve was doing for me that I started to prioritize you less and that wasn’t fair to you.” 

You cleared your tightening throat and told him, “Everyone makes mistakes, Spence.”

“But not everyone’s mistakes make them lose the love of their life like mine did,” he told you, a serious tone in his voice as he held your eye contact unwaveringly. “I messed up and I know I don’t deserve it but I would like to try and make amends so I can eventually earn your forgiveness.”

“I think you’re already on your way there, Doctor,” you told him, a shy smile on your lips as your eyes darted toward your intertwined hands. 

“So explain to me again what the ME’s findings tell us?” you asked as you flipped through a file the next evening. 

“The brains of all the victims had densities and lesions in certain portions that have to deal with the capacity to have rational thoughts and feel emotions properly. We think that this happened because they were exposed to emotional and psychological torture for an extended period of time which is how the unsub manipulated them into performing a murder-suicide,” Spencer informed you quickly. 

David ran a hand over his chin before asking, “So then what did the unsub have on all of these people that made them so easy to manipulate into snapping?” 

“Well we know that he said that all women are the same and just use men, so-” you started to say but were interrupted by JJ coming up with her phone on speaker and Penelope’s enthusiastic voice coming through the speakers. 

“All of the women in these couples were wanting an out from their relationship in one way or another!” Penelope informed the group. “There were some cases of cheating or wanting a divorce or breakup or just getting out of an abusive partnership. Poor Natasha was being abused by Hayden and just wanted out…”

There were a few moments of silence before Spencer suggested, “If all of these women were trying to leave their relationships in some way then maybe that was the unsub’s stressor.”

“Maybe he was cheated on or recently divorced then,” Luke offered. 

“Right,” Emily agreed. “Garcia, can you start looking into recently divorced men in the area and cross match that with your list of men whose names start with H?” Emily asked. 

“I am on it!” the blonde replied as you all heard her fingers typing away on her keyboard. After a few moments she said, “There are a handful of recent divorcees in the area. A Harold Fenton, Herschel Brunswick, and Hester Lincoln.”

“Right, so then we start with those men and see if they have anything to do with these cases,” Emily informed the group. “It’s getting late and I doubt anyone is going to be awake at this hour for questioning, so we start in the morning and I’ll assign teams for the interrogations then. Be smart people, it isn’t going to be enough to just get an alibi for the time of the killings. We need to know where he was roughly when the couples were abducted and if he’s got other properties or a room in his house where he could have done the torturing.”

Before there could be any more discussion on the matter, Josh came into the precinct with a shocked looking woman on his arm. JJ and Tara rushed over to retrieve the woman from him and you asked quietly, “What happened?”

“She said she was out for an evening walk when she came across two recently shot bodies. Jessica Stevenson and Hendrix Jordan. Both shot in the head presumably with a pistol that was found beside his body,” Josh replied grimly. “While EMS was looking over her to make sure she wasn’t hurt, I asked around and turns out a neighbor had heard them fighting pretty loudly before she stormed out. He followed pretty soon after, but the neighbor said they didn’t see him with a gun.”

“Did you take any pictures of the scene?” you asked, your mind beginning to run a million miles an hour to try and work a way in front of this lunatic.

“Yeah,” Josh said as he pulled out his phone and pulled up the picture. 

The team gathered around the phone and each studied the photo before David asked, “Is anyone else seeing what I’m seeing?” 

“Yeah, the placement of that gun isn’t consistent with someone who just shot himself,” Luke said, his eyebrows coming together in confusion as he studied the picture. “And I’m sure once we get the ME report, it’ll show that the gun wasn’t flush with his head either.”

“So you’re suggesting that this one was a double murder?” JJ asked. 

“We don’t know for sure, so let’s not get lost in the weeds, people,” Emily told her team. “The unsub is escalating. He didn’t even take time to torture this couple. This may mean that he was triggered recently and felt the need to kill. We need to get to him before he gets to another couple.”

By the next afternoon the unsub had already struck again.

You and Spencer had just gotten back from speaking with Herschel Brunswick at the cafe when you were informed of the killings. Kaitlyn Grant and Harley Dixon, a young couple who the whole town loved, but knew he was drifting away because he was so committed to his job just outside of town and would spend long hours there. 

“Damnit!” you shouted in frustration, your fists clenching as you could feel your blood begin to boil when it started to feel like rage was consuming your entire being. 

You brought your hands to your face in an attempt to cover up the anger but they were coaxed down and held gently by Spencer’s as he mumbled in his soothing voice, “Hey, we’re gonna figure this out.”

Ignoring Spencer’s words, you whispered, “This is my fault…” With the rage taking over once more, you snapped, “This town trusts me and the sheriff to keep them safe, but in the last five months twelve people have died! Twelve!” Your tears began to fall and you practically collapsed into Spencer’s arms as you whispered, “I can’t do anything right…”

Instinctively, Spencer caught you and started running a hand up and down your back to try and comfort you. Forgetting he was in front of the whole team and your officers, Spencer kissed the top of your head before trying to calm you down. When your breathing had finally slowed and your tears subsided enough for you to feel comfortable showing your face again, you untangled yourself from Spencer’s arms and gave him a quiet ‘thank you’ before turning to face the team and your officers who had all migrated toward the other side of the room in order to give you and Spencer space. 

You were about to try and make a speech toward the team to attempt to motivate not just them but yourself too when Tara came up and placed a hand on your forearm, giving you a warm smile. “I think you need a break,” she told you gently. “This case is getting to you and I think you need to clear your mind for a little while.”

“But-” you tried to protest, but were stopped by Spencer. 

“Significant stress has been shown to measurably affect neuronal properties and cognitive functioning of the hippocampus. It’s also been found to impair memory function and the ability to recall information of which could be crucial in a case like this. Did you know that in some theories about the effects of stress on the body, the individual actually loses the ability to function in the presence of excessive stress which leads to exhaustion and potentially death?”

“Okay, not what she needed to hear at this moment, but I agree with Reid that it may be best for you to go home and take a breather for a while. Details in this case are really important and I know that you want to nail this one,” Tara told you and began walking you to your office to grab your things and help you to your vehicle while assuring you that the team had it under control.

Back in the precinct, Emily cleared her throat and announced, “Okay everyone! We know from forensics that the gun was in fact not up against Jordan’s head when he was killed and that it was actually from a distance away so we can confirm that he was killed and did not commit suicide. I bet we’ll get the same result from today’s victims. This unsub is working overtime to get our attention so we need to give it to him.”

Spencer nodded and added, “Brunswick wasn’t our guy because we were with him all morning. What did we find out about the other men Garcia identified as recently divorced?”

“Fenton is clean too, we just got back a few minutes before you two,” Luke informed him.

Tara nodded in agreement. “Lincoln too. He isn’t our guy.”

“So what are we missing?” David asked. 

“I don’t think we’re missing something. Maybe we’re just thinking too narrowly,” Spencer offered as he turned to look at the new report Josh had filed on the new crime scene. 

“Well then let’s widen our thinking. We can’t let this guy kill anyone else,” Emily said finally before assigning groups to tasks. 

After finding out that of course there weren’t any trail cameras in the area of the latest scene, Spencer was once more going over files in search of something he must have somehow missed. “Why don’t you go over the geographical profile again now that we have more victims?” Emily suggested. 

So he did, taking stray pins from the cork board and placing them in the places of the latest two crimes. What was revealed in front of his eyes was the shape of a heart. “Son of a bitch…” he whispered, looking over to Emily with wide eyes. “He’s plotted out where he wants all of these people to die in order to make a heart on a map, so it could stand to be assumed that-”

“His real target lives in the middle of that heart,” Emily finished with a grim look on her face. 

“That’s a large area to cover that doesn’t seem like it’s heavily populated, we’ll need a few teams to fan out and search the area,” Spencer said, grabbing a pair of keys from the rented SUVs they had been using to get around town. 

“Right.” Emily looked around and started giving orders to those who were back at the station, “Luke, go with Spencer in the first SUV. Josh you’re with JJ and David in the second. Tara and I will go with Lindsey in a patrol car. We have a lot of ground to cover so let’s get moving!” 

Spencer calculated the coordinates to the exact center of the heart and began driving that way with Luke in the passenger seat. On the way there, Luke broke the silence of the vehicle by asking with a smirk, “So what was going on with you and the captain earlier?”

“Old habits die hard I guess. We used to date back when she worked at the BAU,” Spencer told him. “There were a lot of cases where she needed some mental help afterward and that’s how we ended up together. She found my facts and statistics comforting because at least there was some form of guarantee to her safety.”

“That’s cute, I didn’t know-” Luke began to say but stopped short when at the same time he and Spencer noticed the vehicle in the driveway of the house they were approaching. “Reid-” Before Luke could finish his sentence though, Spencer had thrown the SUV in park and was getting out with his gun pulled from his holster. “Reid, think rationally here! Just because her house is the one you think may be in the middle doesn’t mean-”

With his gun drawn in one hand and his phone in the other, Spencer dialed Penelope as he and Luke made their way up the winding driveway, keeping to the tree line and in the shadows of the fading sunlight. “How may I be of assistance Doctor? I-” Penelope started chipperly.

“Did she ever talk to you about her relationships since leaving?” Spencer asked quickly. 

“She? Who do you-?” she tried, but was quickly interrupted by Spencer blurting out your name to hurry her along. “Oh! Just one she told me about the other day! She said that back in April this guy tried to get with her but they just went on one date.”

“Hartley…” Spencer muttered under his breath. “Garcia, try to find anything on a man named Hartley in the area, that’s the last man she dated. Call Emily with whatever you find and send her to my location.”

“Got it!” she said before ending the call. 

“Reid, what's going on?” Luke asked urgently. 

“The first couple was abducted back in late April, after she rejected a man named Hartley. He was at the restaurant we went to the night before last and was glaring daggers at me the whole time. I don’t think that it’s a coincidence that those two couples were killed so close together after that night…” Spencer told Luke quietly as they approached the house. 

Spencer just about reached for the doorknob of the house before Luke snatched his arm away and sharply whispered, “Don’t! You’re smarter than that! What’s gotten into you man?”

“It took me two days to figure out that she was the target of the unsub when it should have taken me two minutes after dinner that night! If she gets killed then that’s on my shoulders since she rejected him because of me!” Spencer whisper-shouted at him. 

“Then we need to do this right and take him down quickly and quietly. We can’t just go in guns blazing,” Luke said before releasing the grip he had on Spencer’s arm. He listened for a moment and motioned toward the back of the house, telling Spencer, “I hear two voices coming from that direction of the house. Let’s start there.”

When they got to the back of the house, your voice and a male’s voice could be heard from inside having a conversation about dinner and flowers. Luke’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he whispered to Spencer, “It doesn’t sound like she’s in danger…”

Spencer peered around the corner and risked a glance into a window, noticing how your eyes flicked in his direction before taking the conversation into the next room, making sure the man who was with you followed. So Spencer motioned for Luke to follow behind him and he noticed that this room was near a backdoor that the pair of them could use to get into the house if needed. 

That time came when, straining his ears to hear, Spencer heard you say, “Do you like literature? I think my favorite line is from Macbeth. Act one, scene five, lines 64-65.”

And with that, Spencer kicked in the door to the house and pointed his gun toward Hartley as he announced, “FBI, don’t move!” 

Luke came in shortly after Spencer, also with his gun raised as Hartley grabbed you around the waist and held the gun loosely near your head as he let out an almost maniacal laugh. When he took in the two men across the room from him, he shook his head and said, “How fitting that it’s you who came to her rescue? You two really had a connection the other night at the cafe and it made me realize that it was you this whole time! You’re the asshole who made her turn me down! You’re the reason my heart got shattered into a million pieces! It isn’t fair that someone can break a heart so easily! So she doesn’t deserve to live and neither do I because I destroyed all those families lives by killing their sons and daughters, mothers and fathers!”

“You don’t have to do this!” Luke warned the man sternly as he trained his gun on the man’s head. 

Spencer noticed Hartley’s loose grip on your waist and said your name to get your attention. Hartley warned him to shut up, but Spencer ignored him and instead locked his eyes with your terrified ones. A small reminiscent smile made its way onto his lips as he asked softly, “Remember what you told me your favorite movie was when we went on our first date?” You thought for a moment and then nodded almost frantically as Spencer said, “I want you to do the opposite of that for me, okay? Now!” 

And just as he planned, you dropped to your knees, allowing Spencer to get a clean shot on Hartley that took him down in an instant. The second that he went down, Spencer holstered his gun and ran to your side, sitting himself on the ground and against the wall as he pulled you into his chest to comfort you. While he did this, Luke kicked the gun away from Hartley’s hand and checked his pulse before quietly nodding to Spencer. 

“He’s gone, he can’t hurt anyone anymore,” Spencer whispered into your hair before kissing your head and letting you burrow into his embrace as you cried. “Breathe with me sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Spencer mumbled as he tried to calm you down, running a soothing hand up and down your back at the same pace as he wanted you to breathe. 

Minutes passed as Spencer attempted to calm you down and he was mildly successful, enough to get you out of the dining area and onto the back of the ambulance that arrived with the rest of the team. As Spencer hesitantly left your side in order to go locate any anxiety medications you may have in your medicine cabinet, Luke followed him and asked, “Dude, how did you know she was in danger?”

As Spencer pulled out a bottle and read the label, he told Luke, “Act one, scene five, lines 64-65 of Macbeth says ‘Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't.’ That was her way of saying that what looked like an innocent conversation between partners was actually a dangerous situation.” A huff of a laugh left his lips before he added, “She studied Shakespeare for fun in college and would analyze his work with me when we were together. Don’t try and get into a debate with that woman about Shakespeare, you’ll lose every time.”

“Wow… You two must have been a force when you were both at the BAU,” Luke mumbled, seemingly in awe of how easily the pair of you were able to communicate without giving anything away. 

“Hotch thought that we could somehow read each other’s minds sometimes,” Spencer confirmed with a quiet laugh as he pulled the right bottle from the shelf. 

“So what was the movie?” Luke asked curiously as he followed Spencer through the house once more, weaving through the BAU team members and your officers who were investigating the scene. 

“Up,” he replied. “I told her to do the opposite so she went down.” Luke chuckled in response before being whisked away by Emily to recount his version of what happened while Spencer went back to the ambulance to give you your anxiolytic to help you calm down. 

The next morning came after a sleepless night pacing a motel room that the sheriff had booked for you so your house could be processed and cleaned up after the events of Hartley’s takedown. When you drove up to the station there was a decent sized crowd near the door, presumably to get a sneak peek as to what happened at your house the night before. A light knock on your window made you jump and clutch at your heart as you looked over your left shoulder to see Spencer there with a small smile on his face. 

“Want some company to head inside?” he asked as he offered you a hand to help you out of the vehicle. 

“Stay close?” you asked quietly, afraid that perhaps the people in that crowd had already figured out that you were in fact the target of Hartley’s killing spree and were there because they wanted you gone… 

“Of course,” Spencer replied as he hooked your arm in his and the two of you made your way through the crowd and to the front door, ignoring all of the questions being thrown your way. 

When you got inside, you almost breathed a sigh of relief before you were approached by Tara and Emily who told you once more that they would need you in the interrogation room, but this time for an actual questioning. At the request your body stiffened as you realized that you would have to relive the situation again and without missing a beat, Spencer said, “As long as I can be in there with her.”

“Spence, you know that-” Emily started but was interrupted by Tara. 

“Let him,” she told Emily with a shake of her head. “As long as Reid doesn’t say anything to her it won’t matter if he’s in there or not, but if she needs his presence for comfort we at least should allow that.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your muscles relaxing the slightest bit as you and Spencer began following the pair to the interrogation room. 

Once inside the cold space, you pulled your cardigan close and made sure that Spencer’s hand was held in yours before you nodded to signal that you were okay to begin. “So can you tell me what happened yesterday from your point of view?” Emily asked. 

“I left the station to clear my head after being informed that another couple had been found dead. I grabbed a few groceries and headed to my home where inside I found Hartley Rivers standing in the kitchen of my previously locked house,” you told her quietly, your voice wobbly as you spoke. 

“Did he do or say anything when you got there?” Tara asked. 

“He was…oddly calm at first. Asked what I got from the store and said that I should make the two of us a meal. Said that it was the least I could do for him after all the work he’d been doing lately,” you replied. 

“Did he elaborate on that statement?” Emily asked. 

“Not at first,” you said, “but I got him talking and he confessed to staging all of the murder-suicides in the last few months. He…he said…he said…” you trailed off as your breathing began to pick up and your leg began to bounce anxiously. 

“Take your time,” Tara said. 

“He said it was my fault…” you whispered. “He said that if I just didn’t reject him then all of those people would be alive…” The grip Spencer had on your hand tightened the slightest bit and it brought your turbulent thoughts to that feeling alone and you used it to ground yourself back to reality before clearing your throat and adding, “He told me that I was the loss of his life and that I didn’t deserve to live for what I did and neither did he. But he thought that if he got my attention in a way that wasn’t romantic gestures it would get the point across better…”

“So you're saying that he confessed to orchestrating the killings?” Emily asked. 

You nodded. “Yes. He didn’t tell me where, but…”

“Then what happened?” Tara asked gently when you didn't elaborate more. 

“I…I saw Spencer sneaking around outside so I brought the conversation to a room near an outside door and informed him that I was in danger by referencing a line from Macbeth,” you said, which earned a small smile from Emily. “When Luke and Spencer got in, Hartley grabbed me and held me at gunpoint. From there things get fuzzy because I was so scared. All I remember is Spencer asking me something so I took a knee and heard a gunshot and Hartley let go of me. I thought I got shot until I felt Spencer pull me into his lap and then my anxiety got the better of me…”

“Thank you, you did well,” Tara informed you, standing up and coming around the table to give you a squeeze on the shoulder. 

“We’ll get all of that into the right hands and then we’ll have to be on our way soon,” Emily said hesitantly as she made her way to the door. 

“I’d like to stay behind for another day or two. I’ll use vacation days,” Spencer told her immediately. “I can book myself a flight back to Virginia and do my paperwork on the way.” Emily opened her mouth for a moment and then closed it, simply nodding in response before making her way out of the room with Tara behind her. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Spence…” you whispered. 

“No, but I wanted to. I need to make sure you’re okay at least through the hardest part of this,” he informed you as he helped you stand up on your unsteady legs to leave the room. 

“Thank you,” you told him graciously, turning into him and throwing your arms around his frame in a tight embrace. 

“Of course,” he told you, the smile evident in his voice. 

After a few moments, you took a deep breath and said, “I need to make an announcement, would you mind staying with me for it?”

“I don’t mind,” he replied, following you out into the main office area where the BAU team and your officers were milling around filing away papers. 

You cleared your throat and said just loud enough to be heard over the noise, “I have an announcement I’d like to make.” When all eyes were on you, you took a deep breath and said, “I would like to thank everyone for their work on this case, both my locals and the BAU team. You all worked long and hard hours to close this case and I am very appreciative of that. Unfortunately before we could solve it, twelve people died in this town at the hands of Hartley Rivers under my watch. So with that being said I’m announcing that I will be stepping down from my position as Captain of the police division here. I made a promise to serve and protect the people of this town and after the events of this case I feel like I failed at that because I couldn’t solve it sooner and because I was the reason Hartley felt the need to do what he did. It’s been an honor to serve this town while I did, but it wouldn’t be right to continue on from here. Thank you.”

There was a stunned silence that filled the room and you quickly ducked your head and started toward your office after making eye contact with the sheriff who gave you a nod and a sad smile in response. When you got there, you grabbed a box and began slowly placing your belongings inside when you heard footsteps enter the room. “So you’re really going?” Josh asked quietly, his sadness evident in his voice. 

You nodded, which earned a sigh from Lindsey and her saying, “Man this sucks…”

“I know but… I feel like I failed this town. And once word gets out about what happened, I would be driven out of the position and the town anyway and I’d rather end it on my terms.”

The two agreed and began helping you pack up your belongings while reminiscing on some of the better days in this office. Once you seemed to run out of things to talk about, Josh asked with a smirk evident in his voice, “So…you and agent Reid huh?”

“Doctor Reid,” you informed him sternly with a quiet laugh escaping your lips. “He didn’t earn three PhDs for nothing.”

“So you’re into the smart ones,” Lindsey said teasingly as she landed an elbow into your ribs lightly. 

“I suppose so,” you said as you looked up and saw Spencer himself in the doorway. The four of you made quick work of packing up your office and before you knew it, you were being escorted out to your vehicle with Spencer’s protective arm around you as you made your way through the crowd of people who still thankfully didn’t know the truth behind everything yet. 

When you and Spencer got to your house, he helped you unload the boxes of your office items and then sat beside you on the couch after you put on a quiet instrumental record to keep there from being a deafening silence in the room. You couldn’t help your mind from wandering back to the events of not only yesterday, but of the last five months. As you did, a roaring filled your ears that was interrupted by Spencer’s voice as he asked, “Hey, what’s on your mind?”

“Too much,” you replied quietly. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really, but…” You sighed and in defeat relented, saying, “I guess it’s best if I do.”

“It is. And I’m right here with you,” he told you as he tentatively scooched closer on the couch and put his arm around you. Your muscles relaxed as he did this and the flood gates opened once more as you burrowed into Spencer’s side.

“I just feel like such a screw up… Twelve people with lives and families and dreams for the future are all dead because of me…” you whispered, trying to muffle the sob that escaped at the end of your statement. 

Spencer ran his hand up and down your arm for a moment before quietly asking, “If it were anyone else in your position what would you tell them?”

“What?” you asked after a few seconds, pulling away for a moment to look up at Spencer with furrowed eyebrows. 

“As the victim advocate specialist that you are, what would you say to someone else in your position?” Spencer asked and you began to see his point. “Say it was Lindsey in the center of this instead of you? You wouldn’t tell her that those people died because of her would you?”

“No…” you whispered, sagging back into his embrace with a sigh. You were quiet for a moment before replying thoughtfully, “I would tell them that they can’t control other people’s actions and feelings. That they couldn’t have known that something so simple as rejecting someone could cause such disaster. That they shouldn’t have to live in fear of this happening again so they’ll go out and live their life and not seclude themselves. That even though in the heat of the moment if the families of the victims find out the reason behind the crime that it still isn’t their fault no matter what nasty things are said to them. I would remind them that they’re a victim in this too and they deserve treatment and counseling services just like the other victims’ families…”

Spencer leaned down and kissed the crown of your head before mumbling, “Exactly. So what is making you feel like you don’t deserve to hear those things too?”

“Because I was supposed to protect all of those people and I couldn’t do my job. They shouldn’t have died in the first place. Pair that with the fact that Hartley was doing this because of me and…it makes me feel like I don’t deserve to be handled gently after everything that happened,” you told him sadly. 

“I think that just proves that you should be given more grace than anyone in this situation,” Spencer says. 

“I just don’t feel like I’m deserving to be cared for after everything…” 

“Well I guess I’m just going to have to prove your anxiety wrong,” Spencer said and you could hear the smile in his voice as he pulled you impossibly closer in what seemed like an attempt to bring all of your broken pieces back together. 

Later that day after finally getting through all of your emotions about your now totally uprooted life and watching your comfort movie with Spencer, you started to feel a bit lighter. So as you made dinner for the two of you, you sang quietly to the music coming from your record player as Spencer helped where he could with the meal. While you were standing at the stovetop stirring the food, he came up behind you and gently wrapped his arms around your waist and swayed to the music playing. “I missed this…” he admitted quietly, his voice and body relaxed. 

“Me too,” you replied, a small smile on your face and tears prickling the backs of your eyes. 

You were afraid to ask Spencer what happened next after he left back to Virginia and you went…where? You still hadn’t decided what you wanted to do for work after you just resigned and where would that land you in the country? You weren’t sure how well- “Hey,” he said, squeezing you slightly to bring you back to reality. “You’re getting lost again.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you replied, going back to stirring the nearly complete stir fry. “I just have a lot on my mind still is all…”

“Like what?” he asked, stopping his swaying to focus on your conversation. 

“What do I do for work now? There’s no way I’ll get a job in any of the surrounding counties and I’m afraid of even getting into that position again because that is so much responsibility I don’t feel ready to handle again after what happened here…”

“Have you thought about coming back to the FBI?” Spencer asked. “I know that the BAU was a cause for a lot of stress on you, so maybe you could see if there are any victim advocate positions available in other departments? Or maybe go back to your SVU department?”

“I have enough in the bank to take a month or so off from work to sort things out mentally but… I think once I figure myself out again, being an advocate again would be rewarding and now that I have a unique perspective on things…” Maybe it was time to move back to Virginia…

“I think you would do great,” Spencer replied, releasing you from his arms before reaching for the plates you had been warming to place the food on. You still had a faraway look in your eyes, even you could tell, so you weren’t surprised when he asked, “What else is on your mind?”

You didn’t reply as you plated the food and made your way to the table, trying to figure out the best way to discuss the topic at hand. You couldn’t figure out a graceful way to ask, so you let out a heavy sigh as you gestured between yourself and Spencer and asked quietly, “Spence… What is this? What is going on between us right now? The hugs, the kisses, the comforting touches. Is it just because of the case? Is it because you feel bad for me?” Guilt at the last bit began to crawl its way up your spine and you felt your throat closing up slightly as you said, barely above a whisper, “I’m sorry I’m just scared right now…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured you, reaching over and grabbing your hand gently and rubbing comforting circles onto it with his thumb. Clearing his throat, Spencer admitted, “At first it was habitual. It felt like an instinct to comfort you because that’s what I did all those years, but…but then I realized that I didn’t just want to provide you with physical comfort. I wanted to protect you. I wanted to hold you until all of your fears and doubts went away. I just…I want you back.” At those last words, your eyes darted up to meet Spencer’s hopeful ones. A smile fell onto his face as he finished, “Please. I want you back in my life and if that can’t be as your boyfriend right now I understand that, but I just want to be in your life somehow. It took me a while to realize that I never stopped loving you and it took me seeing you to realize that if I want you back I need to fight for it and prove to you that taking me back won’t be a mistake.”

“Taking you back would never be a mistake,” you mumbled, a smile making its way onto your face as you scooted closer to Spencer on the dining table’s bench. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Spencer whispered as his hand ghosted its way up your arm, landing on your cheek to hold you for a moment before asking, “May I kiss you?”

“Of course,” you replied with a slight nod before your lips were enveloped into the most tender kiss Spencer had ever given you. A feeling of warmth ran up your spine as you relaxed into the kiss, your hands wandering up to hook around the back of Spencer’s neck to pull him closer. 

All too soon, the kiss was over and Spencer pulled away to rest his forehead on yours before telling you, “I love you. And I never want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” you promised before leaning back in for another kiss, the stir fry going forgotten on the table as you lost yourself in Spencer’s love and affection. 

thank you for getting this far, I appreciate you for reading! Don't forget to like and comment! <3

[emo-batboy]

Battinson Guest Starring on TV Shows

SO

For someone who holds the title of Richest Man in the World, Bruce doesn’t do a lot of traveling.

Which is to say he does a LOT of traveling, but he always tries to find a way out of it.

(Are there bat-related reasons for this? Are there people-related reasons for this? Are there anxiety-related reasons for this? Who knows?)

But partners and sponsors aren’t always going to tolerate his hermit-like tendencies. So once every month or so, Alfred wrangles Bruce into a private jet and sends him off to who knows where so he can represent the company.

Usually, it’s somewhere close on the East Coast, maybe it’s across the pond, even Asia isn’t off the table, but the rarest place to spot Bruce Wayne is actually the West Coast of the US.

One day, it is announced that Bruce Wayne will be spending two (count ‘em, 2) consecutive weeks in California with his kids for some grand business convention.

The West Coast media goes feral with the news, ESPECIALLY interviewers. And because Bruce kicks up such a fuss this time, Alfred has the gall to sign him up for FOUR TV appearances.

Here are these appearances :)

RuPaul’s Drag Race

Drag Queens, especially Drag Race all-stars, contribute to a wide variety of charities

So on a new episode, the queens are challenged to design and shoot a promotional ad for their own charity

And who better to act as a guest judge for this episode than the show’s largest benefactor, CEO of the Wayne Foundation, Bruce Wayne?!

Physically? He’s older than half of the contestants. But spiritually? He screams Baby Gay.

Fifteen minutes into the episode, Bruce is welcomed into the werkroom where he gives them pointers on their campaign. He’s in his cute little three-piece suit (Alfred’s idea) with the intention of looking put-together and knowledgeable. But that’s not the only outcome.

They all flirt with him. Everyone, single or taken. The confessionals are so thirsty.

“He’s lucky the cameras are on. Otherwise, I’d eat him up faster than a bachelorette party in a buffet line.”

“My celebrity crush is talking to me, and all I can focus on are his gorgeous eyes. How am I supposed to know what he's saying?”

Of course, they shoot their shot, but most of it is joking since they don't know he's bi yet.

“Are you single, honey?” Bruce blushes. “It’s complicated.” “Well, I’ll make it simple for you.”

We all know this man can't handle being flirted with. We saw how he froze when Selina did it. It’s like he mentally bluescreens when someone calls him a pet name.

Only THEN do they learn he's bi

One of the queens jokingly asks him, “Ever been with a man before?” thinking it would be a firm no, but Bruce says, “Actually, yes.” “Oh shit, really?” And to Bruce’s embarrassment, the whole room hears him.

The flirting is thus taken up a notch.

On the main stage, Bruce has a lot of great constructive criticism. He talks about how to find the right audience, the importance of a good slogan, and even goes on a little rant about logo design.

(You cannot convince me that Bruce hasn’t hyperfixated on the business of charity work before. Or the science of marketing. They’re his favorite business topics.)

After about three minutes of him complimenting one contestant for their Drag Library pitch, he stops himself mid-sentence and says, “Oh sorry, am I talking too much?” “No, please! Keep talking, sweetheart.” Bruce covers his face to hide his blush. “Why is everyone flirting with me?” “Baby, have you seen yourself?”

While the judges deliberate, RuPaul mentions Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent. Bruce nods along for a while then suddenly just blurts out, “Wait, does it spell ****?”

The judges pause then burst out laughing. “Oh no, we’ve traumatized him!" Bruce is blushing up a storm. “I just never thought about it like that!” “Sweet, innocent Bruce. We’re so sorry.”

It’s later revealed that Bruce offered to help some of the queens launch their charity projects through the Wayne Foundation.

It’s v cute 🥰

Nailed It!

I love Nicole Byer.

She is Mother.

In all seriousness, she’s so fucking funny and she’s personable enough to pull Bruce out of his shell a bit.

The theme for this episode is Found Family. Three pairs of family members compete together—a gay father and his adopted son, an aunt who adopted her niece, and a stepfather and stepdaughter.

Because Bruce Wayne famously adopted two children, he is invited to guest judge.

So Nicole opens the episode with a zinger, the contestants are introduced, and Bruce is welcomed onto the judge’s panel beside Nicole and Jacques.

(Yes, Bruce does speak French. Yes, Nicole makes a joke about it being hot.)

Nicole: “We were surprised you accepted our invitation, Mr. Wayne. You’re notorious for staying on the East Coast. What brought you to the Nailed It! Studio?” Bruce: “My children love this show. They always tell me I should be on it since I’m so bad at baking.” Nicole: “Really? Maybe we should do a celebrity season of Nailed It! and have you compete.” Bruce: “No, you should not.”

Nicole: “So, Bruce, I know you have a butler at home who bakes for you. But what’s the grossest thing you’ve eaten? Escargot? Bad caviar?” Bruce: “I drank olive oil straight from the bottle once.” Nicole: “…What?”

The problem for Bruce is he can’t say anything bad. It just feels mean :(

(And he would rather jump into oncoming traffic than gamble with a social interaction)

For the first challenge, the contestants make cake pops. But when Bruce tries the first one, there is a sickening crunch. Bruce’s eyes widen for a second and he slowly chews.

Nicole: “What was that? Bruce, are you okay?” Bruce, clearly struggling: “It’s…good.”

“Bruce, you can spit it out. It’s okay.” “I already swallowed it.” “Oh, you poor thing.” Bruce chokes for a second, and Nicole pats his back. “Please don’t die. We can’t afford it.”

For the big challenge, production has a surprise in store for Bruce.

Dick (9) and Jason (7) run onto the set and smother Bruce with a hug.

It’s adorable. Bruce no longer cares about paying attention, okay? His kids are here :D

The two boys read from cue cards to announce the second challenge: a three-tiered Gotcha Day cake. And as per tradition, the winner of the first challenge gets a leg-up.

This time, it’s a Helping Hands Button. When they hit the button, Dick and Jason will run over and help them for three minutes. (While being supervised, of course.)

As the contestants bake, Nicole says hello to Dick and Jason, who are clambering all over Bruce like a jungle gym. They both shake her hand and talk about how they love the show.

Nicole looks pointedly at the two empty chairs beside Bruce. “You know, we brought these chairs for you two to sit in.” Dick, on Bruce’s shoulders: “We’re fine, Ms. Byer!” Nicole: “Ms. Byer? Oh, you’re a cutie, aren’t you?”

Just ten minutes before the challenge is over, the Helping Hands button is pressed, and Dick and Jason are given stools so they can help the aunt and niece stack their cake tiers.

Two minutes in, the aunt instructs them to let go of the cake. But the moment Jason pulls his hands away, the cake topples over and covers him in frosting. Jason, whispering: “Oh f*ck.” Bruce: “Jason!” Jason: “I didn’t say that! Dick did!” Nicole: *cackling as Bruce buried his face in his hands*

Jason gets cleaned up, and Dick helps them stack what can still be salvaged.

When Wes brings out the trophy, he’s dressed as Batman. Dick and Jason gets a kick out of that.

Celebrity Family Feud

Bruce was invited to the show after his SNL skit went viral a few months ago

This episode, the teams are split up by cities they grew up in. Gotham v. Star City. Naturally, his team is playing for the Wayne Foundation.

It’s a pretty odd cast of people, most of them having moved to LA or Hollywood. Bruce is the only one to still live in Gotham.

They have fun, though, despite their limited common ground. The audience has a few good laughs.

(Some at Bruce's expense)

Harvey: You're a very wealthy man, Mr. Wayne. What do you really do in that tower all day? Bruce: I, uh…business? Harvey: …You business. Bruce: ……Wait-

All in good fun. Bruce just vibes in his little corner until he needs to answer a question. It's pretty chill.

For exactly half of the episode.

Then it happens.

Steve Harvey takes two people from each team up to the buzzer and says, “We asked 100 people: Name something your parents always told you as a kid.”

What the production failed to consider is how this particular question might be a sensitive topic for some contestants.

Bruce’s team gets the question, and Steve saunters up to Bruce, completely oblivious.

“Alright, Bruce Wayne!” Bruce nods awkwardly. “Hi, Steve.” “Bruce, what’s wrong? You’re looking a bit uncomfortable.” “…I don’t like this question, Steve.” “Why not?” Bruce just gives him a desperate look, and it clicks. “Oh! Oh my gosh!”

Let’s be real. Bruce is awkward enough, but Steve Harvey cannot save an awkward moment for his life either.

But he tries his best anyway and asks, “Are you okay with answering this question, or would you like to pass?” Bruce nods frantically. “I can answer. ‘I love you.’” “I love you too, Mr. Wayne.” “No, uh, my answer is ‘I love you.’” “Oh! That’s a good one.”

Thankfully, the audience erupts in laughter. That little interaction cuts the tension, and Bruce’s answer ends up on the board.

And by god, the memes

“I love you too, Mr. Wayne” is the new “Enjoy your meal.” “You too.”

The audio clip of “I don’t like this question, Steve” goes viral on TikTok

Someone gets a pic of Bruce and Steve looking at each other with palpable fear in their eyes, and it makes its rounds all over Twitter

10/10 never again

Running Wild with Bear Grylls

Now this is the most challenging. Not because it’s difficult, of course. But because Bruce has to look stupid enough to maintain his Brucie Wayne persona but smart enough to keep himself safe.

For this episode, Bear takes Bruce to the California desert.

“How much do you know about survival, Bruce?” Bear asks. Bruce nods carefully. “I did some survival training once with a friend from boarding school.” “Oh really, how did you do?” “Fine, I think.”

This is, of course, his way of saying I trained with a league of assassins for years, but Bear can’t know that! And that’s how most of the episode goes.

Thank god Bruce's fear of being caught is mistaken for being scared of the physical challenge because every time Bear points out how well he’s doing, he breaks into a sweat.

Bear: For a businessman, you’re surprisingly fit. Bruce, sweating bullets: Oh, this is all just for show.

Bear: Wow, you’re a natural. Are you sure you’ve never set up a zip-line before? Bruce, gripping his equipment so tight he gets rope burn: I think it’s just the survival instincts.

Of course, he pretends to be out of breath a few times. The Drama.

Bruce, pretending to slip and fall: Ouch! Who knew the outdoors were so dangerous? Bear, you are crazy. Bruce, internally: How much longer are we doing this?

Bruce being a vegetarian is actually a point of contention. You see, Bear always makes their celebrity guests do something crazy for food like skin a snake or eat a mouse. Scavenging for berries just doesn’t grab the audience’s attention.

But do you know what is vegetarian?

Bear: Now, in extreme cases of survival, it’s not rare for humans to resort to drinking their own pee. That’s what we’ll be doing in a moment. Are you up for it? Bruce, visibly repulsed: I’ve had Gotham tap water. I’ll be fine.

How on God’s Green Earth did Alfred convince him to do this?

To get to the extraction point, Bear takes Bruce down a cliffside.

Bear shows Bruce the meticulous process of properly belaying from the top of a cliff, and Bruce, who has done this over 100 times is like, “Wow that’s so dangerous :( Will we be okay?”

He really tries to ramp up his acting skills this time.

(Little does he know that’s not necessary.)

Bruce goes down first as Bear belays with a cameraman filming from the top. Halfway down, Bruce hears a scuffle, and the cameraman yells, “F*ck!”

Bruce looks up, arms already out for protection, and he sees a small disk falling towards him. It’s the lens cap. He catches it on instinct.

For a second, he thinks, “Shit, was that too skilled? That’s not enough to make people think I’m Batman, right? I just caught it in midair while dangling from a cliff. That’s totally not weird and suspicious. Normal people do that—“

Then Bear yells, “Bruce, drop it!” Bruce looks up at Bear, confused. “Why?” “There's a scorpion!” That’s when Bruce looks at the lens cap and sees a black scorpion perched on top with its tail ready to strike.

They don’t have those in Gotham.

Bruce jumps in his harness and flings the cap at the rocky cliffside. He hears a crunch, and the scorpion and cap tumble to the ground. Bruce frowns. Can a scorpion survive that drop?

“You just killed a scorpion, mate!” Bear cries. Bruce looks up in horror. “I killed it?!” “Hell yeah!” Bruce’s face falls. “No!”

Because oh. shit.

Bruce just killed something. The sad, orphaned vegetarian just killed a scorpion.

Bruce has a meltdown.

He didn’t mean to kill it!!!! Oh no, he just killed an innocent little creature. Yeah, he punches people for fun sometimes, and he definitely put a few violent criminals in the hospital, but he’s never committed MURDER!!

This poor little scorpion died due to his own negligence, and he feels so so so bad about it.

Bruce is a mess as he climbs the rest of the way down.

Bruce, cradling the scorpion’s body: I don’t know how to perform CPR on a scorpion! Bear: Bruce, you took its head clean off. Bruce: *sad noises*

Legit inconsolable. To him, it’s like he just murdered a puppy

Once they're out, Bear is trying to cheer him up. Bless him.

Bear: We’ve conquered the wild! Haven’t we, Bruce? Bruce, head between his legs, still mourning the scorpion: I’m never going outside again.

Yeah, no one’s going to think he’s Batman after that.

And that's all four of Bruce's TV appearances from the West Coast :) Dick and Jason never let him live any of it down. Alfred is almost sorry. (He is not sorry.)

Let me know your thoughts! What other TV shows do you think Battinson would appear on as a guest?

Okie dokie :D Love y'all! Have a good day <3

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!

If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.

But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 

It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 

Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 

In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 

Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 

A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 

“The fuck you doin’?” 

“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 

He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 

You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 

Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 

There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 

Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”

You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”

You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.

The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 

In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 

Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 

Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 

You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 

The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 

Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 

It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 

He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”

You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.

You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 

“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 

“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 

Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 

It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 

Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 

It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”

You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”

He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.

“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 

“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”

See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 

You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 

And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.

“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.

“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 

“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 

He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”

It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke

“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”

You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 

“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.

He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 

Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 

It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 

Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 

Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 

He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”

“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 

“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”

“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”

“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”

“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 

“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”

“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”

“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”

“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”

His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”

“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”

There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”

The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”

He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 

“You don’t have to-”

“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 

“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 

He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 

Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”

“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”

You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”

“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”

“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  

He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.

“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.

“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”

“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

“That’s two questions.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”

“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.

“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 

“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”

It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 

You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”

“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 

His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”

“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”

If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”

“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”

“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 

“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 

You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning. 

“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.

“So no sex then?”

Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.

“So you’ve never-”

“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.

“Not even after you left?”

“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 

“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”

“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.

He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”

Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 

In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 

“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 

“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 

It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”

Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.

You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”

“Deal.” 

You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 

Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 

Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 

Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 

An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 

“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 

Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 

You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 

When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.

His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 

“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”

When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”

“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.

He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.

It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 

But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.

He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.

With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.

He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 

But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 

You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.

His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  

You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”

Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 

The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 

They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 

You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 

Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.

You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.

He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”

“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 

“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”

Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 

Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.

His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 

Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 

You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 

“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 

For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 

It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 

“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 

But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.

“You close?” 

“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 

“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.

You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.

That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 

His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 

An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 

“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 

“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 

Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 

You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 

When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 

With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 

The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 

For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.

And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”

Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”

You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”

As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 

One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 

Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 

All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.

You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.

You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 

That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 

You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 

“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 

“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”

You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 

You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”

His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.

You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”

Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 

He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 

Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 

Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 

Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 

He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 

You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 

He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 

When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 

You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.

The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 

When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.

“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.

“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 

With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 

You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”

He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 

It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”

He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”

“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”

You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 

“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 

“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”

Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”

“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”

[lovemebutleavemewild]

Oh lord the mafia price and pregnant one!!! Maybe one where she tries to go back to work after they move in? Or literally anything else🙏🏻

This got a bit long haha, but enjoy!

(Part 1 here and part 2 here)

You are not in a relationship.

You'd told John, that night after he'd found you in the restaurant, that you were more than happy to have him involved with the baby but that you didn't need him or anyone else. You could do it all on your own, if you needed to.

And he'd agreed with you. Or, at least, he'd told you he agreed. You start to notice, though, that things tended to go his way in the end, so subtly, you barely noticed at first.

The first time you'd taken him to a prenatal appointment, at the free clinic near your apartment, he'd sat with a muscle jumping in his jaw for the entire, very long, wait.

A week later he'd picked you up unexpectedly after a breakfast shift and, under the pretence of going for lunch, driven you to shiny high-rise office building.

"No harm in getting a second opinion, love," he'd assured you as he ushered you into the elevator and pushed the button for "Dr Gail Brady, OB/GYN."

You'd gone along with that one, on the basis that it was better for the baby, and you'd reluctantly let John pay, not even wanting to think what an hour of time with Dr Brady would cost.

There are some things you won't compromise on, of course, but he finds ways around those too. You'd refused to let him move you out of your apartment, for one. He hadn't fought you on it but you weren't stupid—you'd noticed a constant flow of men parked across the street as you came and went and you were sure John had put them there to keep an eye on you. And you had given in and let him change your locks, in the end.

Your latest "discussion" had been about your job. Or rather, your jobs. John had almost had a conniption when he'd found out tht your job at the diner was only part-time—the rest of the time, you waitress at a different, more high-end restaurant across town.

"I need to save as much as I can now, before the baby comes," you'd insisted.

"You don't need either of 'em, never mind two," John had told you, raking his hands through his hair, at which point you'd given up on the conversation. It became a point of contention, one you both tiptoed around, neither one of you willing to admit defeat.

So when your alarm goes off, at stupid o'clock in the morning, the answering groan doesn't come from your lips but from behind you.

And, okay, maybe someone who isnt your boyfriend shouldn't spend so many nights in your bed, but you have to allow yourself some indulgences.

John automatically pulls you back into his chest before you can attempt to get up, practically rolling on top of you, though he's careful not to put much of his weight on you.

"John, I have to get to work, I'm on breakfasts," you complain but he just grumbles into your neck.

"Call in sick."

"I can't," you try to tell him, but by then his hands have drifted down your, toying with the string of your sleep shorts.

"Got a spare 10 minutes then?" he asks and you feel him then, starting to grind into your back, and you give in with a moan just as his hand dips below your waistband.

You're late to work that day and you scowl at John in the car (he never lets you take the train anymore), but he just keeps a hand on your thigh, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

And, over the next few weeks, if you notice a sudden new influx of customers, who always ask to sit in your section, are polite, and tip very generously, well that's just good timing. The new uptick in your income means you can quit your extra gig after a while and even cut down your hours in your main job.

Of course, John is adamant he has no idea who any of these people are, no clue where your new, generous benefactors have come from.

These days, he just turns off your alarm every morning with a glint in his eye, as he tells you he has better ways for you to use your time.

[johnbrand]

Fathering Normality

“And then I just shoved it right in!”

Luke grunted as he thrust forward, drawing a laugh out of his friend Colton. Luke had been recounting the entire night before to him, going over every detail. How it started as a boner, how that boner led him to a bar, how that bar led him to rubbing up against some girl, and how that girl led him to shooting multiple loads directly into her tight pussy.

“It was exhilarating!” Luke recalled, the natural masculinity giving his voice a gruff, dense texture. “And all I can think about now is…doing it again…and again!”

Luke thrusted once more, trying to relieve the pressure building up in his thick cock. Colton could not help but happily smile along with his friend, very familiar with the experience of breeding a woman himself. In fact, his girlfriend had recently found out she was pregnant. When Colton had first received the news, he had been ecstatic. When Luke had received the news from Colton days later, he had not been.

Just a week ago, Colton and Luke had been in the same positions; Luke dramatically recounting some tale while Colton laid back and listened. Although, that time had been more violent. “What do you mean she’s pregnant?” Luke cried. “What are you two going to do? You’re too young, neither of you have secured jobs. We all just barely graduated from college a few years ago!”

Argument after argument flew by, but eventually Colton could not handle it anymore. His friend was supposed to be supportive, happy for the couple as they were with the situation. Then a strange thought came to Colton’s head–maybe Luke would be more supportive if he was able to see his side of things. 

Colton had shot the bullet directly into Luke’s head without hesitation. There was no way his gay friend could have understood the joy of breeding, fertilizing, and bearing fruit other than by being converted to try it himself. Of course, Luke did not remember the sound of the gun firing, dropping to the floor, or his limp body being handed over to local enforcement. Colton did not even think Luke remembered the past version of himself. And now that Colton had met the new model, he hoped he would soon forget too.

Gay Luke had been fun. A little bit on the shorter, skinnier side, but still a ball of energy. He always had a theatrical flair, and he kept himself well-maintained, but he had commitment issues and terrible spending habits. This Straight Luke though, had nearly made the equally heterosexual Colton blush. He was now much taller, more muscular, with that ball of energy transformed into sheer masculine confidence. Luke still held that capacity to put on a performance, but now it was powerful and captivating. 

Colton had contacted Luke at the end of the incubation period, not knowing what to expect. Yet he would have never predicted the stacked body-builder in a plain, short-sleeved button-up and dirty jeans appearing at his door. Sure, there were some things Colton felt a little guilty about. Luke’s former luscious locks had thinned out and shortened into a tiny quiff afflicted by male pattern baldness. His hygiene had definitely taken a hit; Colton had smelt the new funk as soon as those massive shoes had come off at the door. But the conversion affected everyone differently, so because Luke appeared obliviously overjoyed with heterosexuality, Colton felt that he could be too.

“So I just started countin’ as I rammed in. ‘One, two,’” Luke continually thrusted to display his point. “And eventually, it had to be like on 15 or 16, I felt that first burst of ecstasy. After that I lost count, I just went into hyper-mode.”

Colton chuckled, getting up to grab us some beers. He tossed one to Luke.

“Thanks bro,” Luke cracked his cold one open. “By the way, what did you call me over for anyway?”

“Oh man, I thought I already told you,” Colton half-lied. “My girl’s pregnant: I’m gonna be a dad.”

Luke’s eyes lit up, “DUDE! That’s awesome! Congratulations!! God, if only I could be so lucky, right?” 

Colton cheered to that, smirking at the possibility. He had been right when he had chosen to father normality. Thanks to him, one could metaphorically say he would soon be fathering twice the amount of children as a result of Luke’s conversion.

[mokulule]

Take Out for Dummies - part 1

Ship: Dead on Main

“Excuse me?” Jason asked in disbelief.

“How would you describe your ideal date?” the man repeated the question calmly as if he hadn’t snuck up on Red Hood on a rooftop in the middle of the night and didn’t have two guns pointed at him by said surprised vigilante.

Jason had no idea what to think, it was absurd. Only one thing made the smallest bit of sense. After all some reporters would do anything for a story.

“Is this an interview for a gossip magazine?”

The man blinked. “No, this is for personal use only.”

Okay. That was even weirder. With that thought he holstered his guns, grabbed his grapple instead and jumped off the building. He could move his patrol elsewhere for tonight.

Oo o oO

It had been a few days, the strange encounter forgotten about as he’d quickly come across a shipment of unsanctioned drugs entering his territory; Black Mask was making moves towards Crime Alley again. Red Hood had to nip that bullshit in the bud. Just because he was more vigilante than crime lord these days didn’t mean he’d gone soft.

So, Jason had forgotten about the strange man on the rooftop and was wholly unprepared when once again he was standing on a rooftop taking a small break in his patrol and someone spoke:

“So I assume dinner is out what with the whole helmet deal, but what about chocolate?”Jason spun around heart in this throat, guns pointing towards the direction of the voice. It took a moment for him to even find him. This time he was sitting on top on the slanted roof of the stairwell.

“What the-“

“A box of chocolate could be enjoyed later, would that be a suitable gift?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Too many things to remember off the top of my head.” The man jumped down and walked towards Jason, once more showing his absolute disregard for the guns pointing at him.

“Do you have a death wish?”

That for some reason brought a smile to his face.

Somehow, Jason was the one taking a step back despite being the one holding the guns. That at least stopped the man’s advance and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Sorry man, I guess this whole showing up on a rooftop in the dark is kinda creepy.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just with you being you, I don’t know where else to catch you.”

Jason felt an incoming headache, and he was feeling increasingly silly pointing his guns at the man when he didn’t react to them at all.

“How about you explain who you are and what you want?”

“Oh!” He slapped his forehead as if he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. “I’m Danny, and I’ve been hired to take you out.” He smiled brightly.

Jason stared in disbelief. Who in their right mind just announced they’d been hired to kill someone, to the person they intended to-

No…

It couldn’t be…

He’d been asking about dates and chocolate. He couldn’t possibly have misunderstood take out Red Hood as take out Red Hood on a date. Nobody would be that stupid…

“Why would someone hire you to take me out on a date?”

Danny, if that was his real name, shrugged. “Maybe they thought you were stressed and needed a nice evening? I don’t know. I don’t ask questions. I just do odd jobs for money, keeps the lights on, you know?”

Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t believe this.

“And like this job pays extremely well for some reason, so like I’d like to do a good job of it hence the questions?”

Of course it payed extremely well, it was meant to be a freaking hit! Still could be of course, but then it was the oddest way to go about it that Jason had ever experienced and he’d taken out quite a few would-be assassins in his time.

Danny’s face fell at Jason’s continued non-responsiveness. He sighed. Then brought out a notepad and scribbled something down, before ripping off the paper and holding it out to Jason.

“Look,” he said, when Jason made no move to take the paper and still just kept his guns trained on him, “here’s my number if you change your mind. If you haven’t called back in three days, I’ll return my advance and tell them I can’t do it - no matter how sad I’ll be to see that money go.” He looked pained at the admission, but then looked back up at Red Hood with determination.

“Still please reconsider, Mr Hood, I promise I’ll show you a good time if you agree to a date.”He looked expectantly from his hand with the paper to Jason’s helmet. Jason sighed. Holstering his right hand gun he took the paper. It was indeed a phone number, above the number it said Danny with a little smiley face drawn after the name.

Danny’s face brightened into a smile.

“Have a good night then Mr. Hood, I hope to hear from you.” Danny walked backwards with a wave and promptly tripped on an empty bottle someone had left.

“Woah!” His arms windmilled and he only just saved himself from falling back and hitting his head by sheer luck as he caught himself in the sort of gravity defying pose that would win him most limbo games. He laughed sheepishly as he put a hand down and turned around to push himself back up.

“So that was embarrassing. Should look where I go, huh? Never know when you’ll be assaulted by littering…” his voice trailed off as he walked away. He threw a last wave over his shoulder before jumping onto the fire escape and beginning his climb down.

Jason was left standing on the rooftop, paper clutched in one hand, trying to comprehend the whole baffling conversation. Also there was a distinct curl of embarrassment that he’d actually felt threatened by the guy at one point.

Yeah, he wasn’t gonna unpack that. He put the paper in a pocket of his utility belt and took a running leap to the next rooftop.

Oo o oO

Jason could not believe he was actually doing this.

It was three days later. In the mean time he’d asked around his old enforcers if they heard about a guy named Danny who did “odd jobs” as he’d called it.

As it turned out, there was indeed an odd-job-Danny, sometimes just called odd-Danny, with an increasing reputation on the streets of Gotham for doing all sorts of jobs - everything from helping old ladies carry groceries home for pennies and a pat on the cheek to heavier lifting by the docks. When he asked one of the street kids about him, he was told he also helped look for lost pets for pretty rocks or whatever the kids had in their pockets at the time, and he could fix just about anything - which had to be an exaggeration, but then again the street kids weren’t prone to overly positive opinions about adults, so he’d certainly made quite an impression on them.

Yet despite a lot of people knowing about him, apparently nobody knew a last name or where he lived. It was a mystery.

All that to say that Jason was curious… and apparently doing this.

He looked down at his phone, where he’d already put in the number. His thumb hovered over the call button. He still could not believe he was doing this. If this was a trap he was apparently walking in.

With a sigh he pushed the button.

It rang three times before it connected.

“Hello?” A hesitant voice asked.

“Is this Danny?” “Who’s asking?”

“You ask me on a date and you already forgot, I’m hurt,” Jason deadpanned hoping he would catch on to it not being wise to mention Red Hood’s name on an unencrypted line.

“Oh! So is that a yes?” He piped up excitedly.

Urgh, why was it charming that that he sounded so genuinely excited?

“Yes.”

“Sweet. Did you consider my questions?”

“Nope,” Jason popped the p and found himself smirking, “gonna have to impress me all on your own.”

Danny huffed. “Have it your way. I’ll show you a good time, you’ll see. How does… Sunday afternoon work for you?”

“’s fine.”

“Meet you in front of the building we last met, at 2 pm? Also unless you wanna take the bus, maybe bring your bike? I don’t drive.”

Jason scoffed. Letting some stranger hired to kill him close to him on his bike was a recipe for disaster. Still he found himself answering:

“Sure.”

“Great! I’ll see you Sunday then.”

With those words the call ended.

Jason looked down at his phone. He couldn’t believe it. Jason, no, Red Hood had a date for this Sunday. A giddy feeling bubbled up in his chest and he couldn’t help laughing. Red Hood going on a date. It was fucking ridiculous.

Yet, he was kinda looking forward to it. -

Subscribe to the masterpost here Next

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 5 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: the second year of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly concerning traditions 

warnings (TW): swearing, gambling, illegal activities, illusions of past abuse 

tags: fluff, affection, mutual-pining

notes: canonically no one knows anything about shermie really, which would be hilarious if I didn’t have to write about it \\ also i feel like there not too much fluff in this (could be really fucking wrong lol) but the next part i have drafted is sickingly sweet so just give me some time 

Also (again) i’ll begin linking a legit masterlist below with all the parts! I thought of renaming each era but the naming part of things is where im legit the leassst creative for some reason? maybe later idk? but anyway! so much love from everyone! thank you so much! you don’t know how much i appreciate the love and the comments, thats why i continue writing this ahhhhhhh! thank you!!!

word count: 4.4k 

| masterlist | part vi |

March, 1984 

It had taken her several months to come to terms with what had to be done for the sake of their identities. 

He had been more open with her concerning his past in that one two-hour conversation than he had in the past year in its entirety. Something that would shake a normal woman, but she had become so oddly attached to her new partner she almost didn’t care about the picture he painted of what he used to be - something he insisted he still was. Bad. He had said to her that night. That he wasn’t any good. 

The painting only flooded with more color, in those following months after said heart-to-heart. His conversation with his mother spoke of it. It also spoke of a man who truly honestly couldn’t be the picture he had painted. 

It’s something they had both tiptoed around, conversations of their parentage. Of course, because of Ford, she knew that they grew up in the typical American nuclear family home, with a mother who lingered in doorways and a father who raised his hands as frequently as his voice. But she didn’t know how intertwined Stanley had been with his mother in particular. 

Which was hard, considering he was now legally dead. 

That first frantic conversation they had had over the phone had shaken him, had him reconsidering. But watching Doc’ wait in anticipation and disbelief in the next room over quickly made him change his mind. It was so they would be safe, he reasoned. 

His mother had called believing she was calling Ford after she received the shattering news that her baby boy was presumed to be dead. Baby being used here loosely, seeing as Ford was only truly older by a mere fifteen minutes. 

His mother hadn’t been shocked Ford hadn’t contacted her in that past year, something he had shook off every time he passed the landline. He thought to call her. But she was quite hung up on not having heard from Stanley that past year, insisting in her ways that surely he would have called, her free-spirited boy was always much more inclined to call her, something she had never blamed Stanford for of course. Just a flippant difference between her two boys. One called and the other lingered in doorways, like her. 

Stanley had reasoned with her over the landline. Insisting that he, unfortunately, would not be able to make it to his own brother's funeral, something she had tisked at, raising her voice to who she assumed was Stanford. This is your brother! She had insisted. You loved your brother, don’t say you didn’t. Everyone makes mistakes, you need to forgive him now. 

It was not until after the event that she called again, telling him not to worry. That she had attended for him, but that his father was just as busy as him. Something unspoken between them, just as stubborn. She had meant to say. Just as ignorant. 

His mother spoke with him in a different tone over the phone, a difference in how she held cadence when she was talking to Stanford rather than Stanley, something he wondered if Poindexter ever noticed. 

His Doc’ knew the conversations drained an odd part of him, so she did her best to work around him when his mother did ring their landline. Something she did semi-frequently now that Stanley was officially dead. 

In the beginning, she had lingered in the next room, then drifted through doorways, and eventually made it until she sat at the kitchen table with him, playing with his fingers in hopes of baiting him away from the phone. If the conversation was shorter then surely he wouldn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t for too long. 

She later realized this was a mistake, no matter how his impression of his brother gnawed at an odd part of her psyche. So she moved from him, doing dishes and cooking. But still oddly near him. 

It was easier to lean into domesticity when she played it so well around him, and it made the phone calls less nerve-wracking to take. Pretending his wife was doting on him, that his long-distance mother was calling to check in, and pretending he wasn’t a fraud and a failure. So he usually insisted on her presence. And he pretended that she played a role in it all and that his mother didn’t sound different over the phone. One big lie to make him breathe better. 

It’s after one of these phone calls that he slumps deep in his kitchen seat one day, and she turns from the dishes in the sink to ask what’s wrong. 

“We’re gonna have to tell her one day.” 

“What?” 

“That we’re married, doll.” He crossed his arms, a contemplative look overtaking him. The first time he’d said the word since that conversation in the car. “I don’t know how long until we have ta’, but I know we gotta.” 

“Okay.” She hums, hands still sudsy from the sink. “Is there any other family we may have to tell?” 

“My older brother, Shermie. But he’s in Cali not Jersey like my ma.” He hums. “Older than me, don’t know him as well. But he is closer.” 

“And will he be able to tell?” She asks. “That you’re not Stanford?” 

“Nah.” He sighs. “He’s got a wife though, and a kid from what I remember. A baby girl, probably about ten now.” 

“Oh my god, so you’re an uncle?” She laughs, a smile splitting her face once more. 

“Ya doll, have been since I was 18. Remember meeting her, but pretty soon after I hit the road.” 

He had been fond of her, from what he could remember. The baby girl had rarely left the crook of his doting mother’s arms, but when it came to be his turn to hold her he enjoyed the warmth and weight of her. And her gummy smile at his continued insistence. He still remembers her tiny hands, fisted around one of his fingers. She had been small, smaller than he had imagined babies could be. He bet she was still small, it felt hard to imagine her as more than a swaddle in the swell of his arms now. 

Silence breaks between them again. “Well for what it’s worth I think you’d be a great uncle, if you could have been closer to her that is.” She hums, moving back to the sink to wash some more dishes. Her hair curved around her soft face, beautiful in her usual careless way.

Maybe he would have been. 

June, 1984

They had started a tradition in their home. A young tradition, but she figured it still was one since they had promised to go about their day the same way as they had the previous year. Except this time they had thought to prepare. 

The town they resided in was odd for sure and had an affinity for the unexplained and perhaps more creepy pursuits. The town had a tradition of its own in which they held a Halloween event twice a year, Summerween they called it. 

Not that they had known of it their first year residing in the shack, but it was quite the surprise to open the door to trick-or-treaters in mid-June. The children had unknowingly interrupted Stan's attempt to teach her how to play poker. Unfortunately for the children, they didn’t have any candy on hand for them that year. Without anything to give them, the kids retaliated by tee-peeing their yard that same night. 

She had found it only slightly annoying, having to clean it up the next morning. But it quickly fell into amusement, watching Stan stomp and curse while pulling toilet paper from bushes and trees. He didn’t enjoy a prank that was not his own. And he wouldn’t be caught unaware the next year. 

Which was why they had wandered around town that last week, looking for supplies to decorate their porch and getting last-minute off-brand candy. She had scoffed at the shitty candy they had bought but figured it was more or less all they could afford. She had eyed up the bigger bags of nicer candy, chocolate had always been a weakness of hers. 

Stan had also bought what he called “Scary Stan” supplies. Silly string, odd meats, and fake blood found its way into their shopping cart. Along with supplies for caramel apples upon her insistence. 

They had made a night of it, decorating their porch with fake spider webs and the town's traditional carved watermelon jack-o-lanterns. She had gone ahead in making caramel apples also, bagging them up as she went for the children. Perhaps it would make up for the shitty candy. 

In keeping with tradition, Stan thought to continue their poker night as they had been doing the previous Summerween. So their night was spent in an identical fashion almost, with detailed explanations of correct poker etiquette from Stan with interrupted rushing to and from the door to give awaiting kids off-brand chocolate and homemade caramel apples. Except they sat across from each other in costume now. She had been amused when he had insisted on them being matching, he had flushed in embarrassment in the store that week, pleading his case after his initial insistence. Like it was only natural that they would match. She barely fought it, something odd aching in her chest at his rather sweet insistence.

“Come on! It’s a good idea!” 

“What are we Stan, twelve?” 

“No, we're married. Just as embarrassing.” He had said flippantly, his ears red in a flush as he shoved two capes into the shopping cart along with everything else. 

Which is how they ended up here tonight, sitting across from each other in the dim kitchen light, both dressed as a gaudy vampire couple while Stan explained for the fourth time the probability of getting a royal flush. Her feet propped up on his lap, like always. He had bent down to grab them, folding them into the curve of him. 

He had tried not to stare too long when she came down the stairs earlier, her matching velvet red cape and shitty plastic vampire teeth sat oddly in her mouth. But it was one of the first times she had done her makeup like that, all dark and creased around her enchanting eyes. And the first time he had ever seen that black shirt, which had a surprisingly low cut. All the more distracting. 

This is why he was stumbling through explaining what a royal flush was for the fourth time, and probably why she was looking all confused at him like that also. 

“Okay doll, let’s run through this a couple of times, then we’ll put in some real steaks here.” 

“Stan we are dead broke we are not gambling money tonight. You’d rob me blind!” 

“Shush!” He insisted, smiling across from her. “Just a couple rounds, I’ll show you some good hands and we’ll go from there, okay?” 

They were interrupted interspersedly from time to time during their practice rounds, Stan usually being the one to race out to the porch first, in hopes of scaring whatever little kid dared knock on their porch door. 

Of course, if the child was too young he’d call for her. She had put up a fight with him about scaring kids that were younger than ten tonight. Which he had been glum about until he watched her with them. 

She’d gush at the doorway, complimenting costumes and handing out her caramel apples she had slaved away over. She had this certain smile too, and silently in the back of his mind he thanked any little kid who knocked on their door that night because she looked particularly enchanting when she was kneeling down talking to them. Like she was always meant to be doing that. 

Anyone over ten was free for the taking though, and he took particular pride in scaring any poor sap who was old enough in her eyes. The fake blood in particular came in handy, and she would laugh when he’d routinely come back from the porch door slathered in it. She silently thanked those kids tonight, because he seemed to be particularly enchanting when he laughed like that. Like he was always meant to be this carefree. 

The poker games practice rounds were over though. And he had a particular surprise just for her. 

“Ta-Da!” He said, while pulling out a bag of candy from the very top cabinet she could never reach in the kitchen. 

“Oh my god, is that chocolate!” She gasped again, reaching for the bag. “Name-brand chocolate! Awe, you shouldn’t have Stan.” She encased it in her arms, hugging it like a stuffy. It was the bag she had been eyeing up in the grocery store not even a week ago.

“Ah-ah!” He moved to grab the bag back. “This is what we are betting with tonight, doll.” Candy back in his hands, he moved back to his seat. Opening the bag to evenly disperse the individually wrapped candy between the two of them. 

“How’d you even get that bag, Stan, we can barely afford everything else we bought.” 

“You don’t wanna know, hun.” He said, shuffling her candy pile in front of her. Okay, so he had stolen it, so what? He hadn’t called her “hun” in a while though. Distracting. 

He almost never called her that sickeningly sweet name now, something she thought about far too often for her good. She missed that term of endearment in particular for some reason. But perhaps Stan found it to be too domestic, too personal for what both resided between them now. Perhaps it reminded him of her mistake, of her tying herself to him for the foreseeable future. Her heart did something odd though, when he would call her that. She usually made note of it when he did call her “hun” now. Because it was so rare to hear it, and she hesitated to ask why. It would slip out of him in odd moments, moments he would catch himself unaware and relaxed around her. But it always made him flush now, too. 

The game followed similarly, his flushing smirk distracting her from her hand on more than one occasion. He was so charmingly confident when he was playing games, so competitive. She tried to shake it off, the way he looked like this. She wanted to play with him, too. 

“You’re full of shit doll.” 

“No!” She gasps, suddenly a good actress. “My hand is just that good bucko! I raised it by too cluster bars, are you gonna meet or fold sir?” She hummed, smiling at him over her hand of cards. 

This was probably the only time she was damn good at lying, he conceded. She liked to play it up, waving her hands and laughing everything off. She was pretty good at playing off a hand that had absolutely nothing in it. But he had memorized her tell long ago, memorized her face just the same. She looked the same every night, teasing him across this kitchen table over dinner. Her brow upturned just a little, her cheeks flushed. That was the look, her look. She had nothing in her hand. 

But he was wiping the floor with her. 

He hums, hand over his lips. “I guess I fold then.” He sets his cards down, pushing his stack of candy back towards her.  

“Yes!” She jumps up, reaching across to swipe his candy into her pile. An elated smile on her face as she dances in her seat. The kitchen light making shadows on her face, the sun having finally gone down to alleviate some of the June heat. She stops mid-dance, a realization blooming over her face. “Wait a minute.” 

“Hmmmm?” He says, munching on one of his candies. 

“I know for a fact you can count cards, Stan!” Her finger pointed accusingly at her. “That’s why they won’t let you back in Nashville. You should legitimately win every round, and I know that for a fact!” 

He leans back in his kitchen chair, laughing in his low gravelly voice. “Perhaps?” He questions, hands held up in guilt. 

“Gahh!” She yells, reaching across the table and the stacks of candy to throw a fist at his shoulder. “I’ll get you for real one day.” 

“You’re smart hun, I know you will.” That flush across his face. 

“You’re smart too though.” She says, stating what she knows to be true. He is smart, he proves it to her every day. He just would never actually take the compliment, something he figured was a lie. He’d never been called smart in his life before her. He’d let her lie about this one thing though. His head hung off the back of his chair. His Doc’ was a terrible liar, though. 

“Nah!” He says flippantly, hand waving away her truth. “Let’s watch a movie!” Jumping from his seat, scooping up her pile and his pile of chocolates, and racing to the T.V. They’d play again the next year, and he’d let her win again in hopes it would make her just as happy as she just was. And maybe then she’d believed she’d won and he’d believe he was smart enough to be out-witted by the likes of her. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” She inquires, head popping back into the living room. 

“No no, come here!” Waving her in, so she can plop down next to him on the floor. Candy piled high in between the both of them. A mischievous grin sneaks up on his face, hand already reaching for the movie she’d hate. She was terrified of zombies, for some reason. Something he takes advantage of routinely. Anything to have her curled up next to him, her heat seeping into his side as his hand made a home on the back of her neck. Like usual, like always. Something that still made him feel sickly sweet, her flippant affection for him. It must be nothing for her, to be this close to him.

“Scary movie?” 

She nods, mouth full of chocolate and shirt dangerously low. Her cape piled around her, and her eyes dark as she grins at him. Distracting. 

October, 1984

They had hit a metaphorical dead end when it came to the portal. Something they both feared voicing between the two of them. 

It was hard, almost impossible, to reverse engineer the plans drawn out in the one journal they had on hand. She knew there had to be two more out there, hidden in the woods. A homage to the three corners of the portal that she stared at day in and out. Stanford was like that in a way, flippantly sentimental about the oddest thing. 

Her old friend more than likely buried the other two journals somewhere on the property. Unfortunately for them both they did not know where the property line began and ended, but she more or less figured it was a lot of land to cover. Stan had backed up this claim, explaining to her that first night that Stanford had wanted him to take this first journal, take it with him to the ends of the earth. In hopes that the portal his brother had created couldn’t be replicated. Something they had both dared to do now and something they did not discuss in great lengths either. 

He had put them away in his haste, she figured. He was never one to half-ass anything really, but with the way Stan had described his brother that night he disappeared into the portal, she figured he was not necessarily himself. Not himself, actually at all. She had contemplated it a lot, the fear of otherworldly possession. But had a hard time believing Stanford would let anything into something as sacred as he believed his mind to be. He didn’t even let her up there. 

But the way he described his odd relationship with an entity that happened to be a shape was… distracting. It constantly had her flipping back and forth in the journal, looking for clues as to what Ford was doing in relation to an otherworldly being. He couldn’t help his own curiosity she figured, something she had never blamed him for except for now. Something she cursed him for, now. 

So they had both agreed to move in silence when it came to passing into the tree line of the property. She had more than hinted at their need for caution in communicating with whatever the hell Ford had previously encountered. Stan and Ford both considered themselves adventurers in their own right, which would be admirable if one of them wasn't missing from their current plane of existence. 

They had headed out together one October day, bundled up, and hoping to find signs of Ford on their property line. Hoping to find one of the journals, and nothing else. 

His red coat with a new patch was swung over his shoulders, as she had whined in the doorway that morning. She much preferred his things to her own nowadays. Much preferred to be swallowed by his shirts and jackets, not that he would ever comment. There was just more warmth to his things than her own now, and she preferred the imprint he left on the couch to her own in these colder months. Stealing his spot when he would up and leave for a new drink, laughing when he would come back to claim it. Stealing that imprint of him was her only joy, because it made him laugh and flush differently when she got close now. The closest he had allowed in months, the imprints and loose shirts he’d leave behind. Made something behind her chest ache thinking about it.

Felt slightly disjointed in their trek through the forest now, the thought of the unknown just beyond them both. And no warmth of his jacket to cool the part of her that achingly worried for him now.

But of course, they both had weighed the probability of them encountering some creatures that Ford had sighted in his journal, but she feared encountering something that was not listed in the specific one they had in their possession. Something out in the borders of their home, that they had no knowledge of. 

He was swearing with every step through the underbrush ahead of her, his hand held behind him in case she would need it when trekking through the uneven forest floor. His head held down as he stomped a path into the fallen leaves for her. Her head held up, looking for signs of their long-gone friend somewhere between the trees. 

“Fuck!” She swears, tripping over fallen branches. He reaches back, catching her with the length of his outstretched arm. The first time he had reached for her since he bent to fold her legs across his lap this morning. He felt far away. He was flushed though, worked up with the long trek they both had made. Some odd miles between them and their home now. 

He grunts, lifting her back to her feet with ease. Moving to wipe dead leaves and twigs from her hiking pants unconsciously.

“Should we map this out doll?” 

“Mhm.” She nods, as he reaches back into their shared backpack he had been carrying. Taking out a property map and a compass. He had thought to bring the map, commenting on how they could mark down when they would see odd things throughout the forest, and so they could track where they had already been. She had thought to bring the compass, simply to find their way home. 

She looks down at the unfolded map now held up in his hands, stepping to bend down under his arm, residing in front of his expansive chest and between his outstretched arms. He was warm, she noted, a part of her cooling. 

“Sooooo… I think I saw something around here.” She moved her pencil up, marking along their predetermined path where she thought she had seen tree carvings. She took a step back, running into his chest. Trying to get closer to him, before he would inevitably leave. “I believe we are about 1.5 to 2 miles out from the shack?” She questions, tilting her head back to look at him. 

He grunts, flushed by her proximity. Her back to his chest, he noted how warm she was when she was this close. Her eyes shining up at him in question. She shouldn’t be this close. 

“Mmm, feels like we’ve been walkin’ longer than that.” 

“You may be right.” She hums, her pencil held in her mouth now. “Should we retrace our steps? Get a better estimate? And look at that carving I saw?” 

“Whatever you say, boss.” He grunts, trying to move his eyes away from her. 

“Alright!” She steps back from him, suddenly cold. Ducking beneath his arm and stepping away from him as he begins to fold back up the map. She’d savor whatever he allowed. “Then we’ll be home in time for lunch.” She comments. 

“Can we have those fancy deli sammiches?” 

“Mmmm, sounds good to me.” She shrugs, letting him lead the way back to their home. Trying to find oddities in the tree line, but getting distracted by his shoulders the entirety of the way home. Missing that imprint of him along her back already.

[riki-riks-chick]

enha legal line wet dream drabble?

Enhypen Wet Dreams

enhypen when they have a wet dream

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Heeseung:

Heeseung doesn't have wet dreams often, but every now and then, the two of you get really busy, too tired after work to even invest in sexual behavior. And it's so painful for him. Even if he is hard, he's too tired to deal with it, let alone ask you to.

It easily turns into him having a wet dream. His head is filled with visions of all the things he wants to do to you, and how you'd react. He wakes up, hard and slick with his own cum. You'd be sound asleep beside him, but he can't help but to wake you. You're tired and against it at first, but his pleading is a bit of a turn on.

You end up giving him sloppy head under the covers, opting to continue any other wants or needs in the morning when you're not tired as fuck. "We'll finish this later."

Jay:

Jay finds wet dreams embarrassing, so whenever he gets himself worked up enough to the point he has one, it's terrible for him.

Waking up with a raging hard on, it's still dark outside, and Jay hates that he's probably gonna have to spend the next thirty minutes trying and failing to cum again from just his hand alone.

He eventually wakes you with his quiet groans and grunts. You're confused at first, but when you see his fist closed around his dick, you get an idea.

You decide to let him fuck you, knowing that it would be less work on your part to simply let him get off, using you as a personal sex toy.

And it definitely isn't bad because you feel amazing and so does he. In the end, he doesn't think wet dreams are too bad. "Maybe I should wake you again next time."

Jake:

He happens to have a wet dream the one time you're not sleeping beside him. He was dreaming about something along the lines of fucking you in all his favorite positions, you in his favorite set that he bought you. Everything was so tempting.

But of course he wakes up in his empty bed, and he contemplates for twenty minutes before calling you.

His cock is already clutched in his right hand, he's holding the phone with his left. When you amswer, your voice sleepy and cute, he's already losing it.

It doesn't take you long to realize he's jerking off, so you give him some substance, whispering dirty words into the phone to help him get off. He eventually releases in his hand, moaning pathetically into the receiver. "Fuck.. I need you so bad."

Sunghoon:

The epitome of horny. Sunghoon hasn't been able to touch you all week because he's been busy as hell. This leads to the wet dream he's just woken up from. He was dreaming of you, fucking you from behind, which is his favorite way to do so.

He spends the next five minutes stroking his own cock, biting his lip to silence himself, but it's not working in his favor. He then looks over at you. You're sleeping so peacefully, and all he can think of is ruining you.

To his luck you've given him prior permission to try out the whole somnophilia thing. You both liked it last time, so he wanted to try again. You were luckily on your stomach too, so he simply removed the clothes on your lower half, sliding into you slowly.

He ended up waking you so he could fuck you properly and neither of you got any sleep. "Next time I'll try eating your pussy while you sleep.."

Sunoo:

Sunoo probably has frequent wet dreams. Waking up at random hours, soaked in his own cum just because he dreamed about you.

Like usual, he wakes you up, moaning in his sleep thanks to the content of the dream. You're not even surprised at this point. Usually you just watch him squirm and pretend to be asleep when he wakes up, but this time you wanted him to see you.

You had taken matters into your own hands, freeing his dripping erection before lowering yourself onto his length. He wakes up, the feeling of you riding him being too good.

He comes pretty quickly, but you both agree to go for another round before taking a late night bubble bath. "You should do that more often.."

Jungwon:

He immediately wakes you the second he has a wet dream. Whatever it may be, he's asking you to make it a reality.

So when you're awaken at nearly 2am, being asked in the most pitiful way possible, to suck your boyfriend's dick. You can't say no.

Jungwon is a moaning mess, enjoying the feelings he gets just from your mouth being wrapped around his cock so prettily.

He's cuming down your throat minutes later, whining pathetically as you suck on his tip.

The whole ordeal makes you horny too, so he gets to fuck you in the end. "Oh this is so much better than a dream..."

Riki:

Wet dreams are so embarrassing for Riki. He gets so shy it's almost unbearable. One time you woke up while be was trying to deal with his problem, and he swears it was the worst thing that ever happened to him.

The second he wakes up, feeling the all too familiar stickiness in his pants, he's making a beeline for the bathroom, not wanting to wake you up.

Thank his lucky stars, because tonight just happens to be the night you wake up, walking into the bathroom where the lights are on and Riki is leaning against the counter in distress.

Being caught only made his problem worse. He was near tears until you stepped towards him. "Let me make it better.."

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