#disappointing that this can still surprise me

[illyrianslut]

Spymaster's mate - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel is away on business for the Night Court, but Y/N needs satisfaction while he is gone. He senses through the bond what his mate is needing and winnows home.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut, overstimulation, breeding kink, spanking, masturbation. I think that's it..

Author's Note: I don't write smut a lot, so please be kind xD Ao3 Link

Masterlist | Ao3

You had known it was going to be another long lonely night at home without Azriel to keep you company, but that didn’t make coming home to your empty town home any easier. It had been a rainy, dreary day in Velaris but you’d made the best of it deciding to visit Feyre and Nyx at Feyre’s shop surprising them with treats from their favorite bakery.

Even after spending time with you little nephew the ache of missing your mate consumed you once you were alone. Of course you understood that Azriel’s job as Spymaster for the Night Court was an important one, and one that often stole him away from you for days at a time, it didn’t ever take away the ache of being away from him or not knowing if he is safe.

Throwing your things in a pile beside the door, you enter your home and make your way to the kitchen to begin making something for dinner. Much to your surprise, there is a bouquet of flowers sitting on the table, a card with your name on it is sitting beside it.

You look around your home, feeling that your mate isn’t there causing you to wonder how the flowers got into your -locked- home. The note was clearly written in Azriel’s handwriting, confusing you further. You give a small tug on the mating bond you share with him, but can tell instantly that his walls are up and there is no chance of you getting through to him.

Y/N,

I wanted to apologize for leaving you home alone for so long. You know how it kills me to be away from you. Rhysand needs me to stay here longer, I can explain more when I get home. I am so sorry for being away my love, I will be home as soon as time allows. I love you, Az.

A disappointed sigh leaves your lips, it wasn’t the first time his job kept him away longer than anticipated, and surely wouldn’t be the last. You know not to take it to heart, but that doesn’t take away the sting of missing him.

You give up on the idea of dinner, just wanting the day to be over. Sleep sounds much nicer anyway. You give the flowers a quick sniff and smile, he had always known your favorite flowers to get. But you’d still rather your mate be home than have flowers.

Tomorrow would be one week since you saw him, one week since you felt his calming pretense, and felt him inside you. Your core aches at the thought of your last morning before he left, as always he made sure to satisfy you fully before leaving. You get to your bedroom and throw on one of his shirts and crawl into bed, still thinking about that morning.

He had woken you with his lips wrapped around your clit, and hands on your hips to hold you in place while he devoured you.

You move your fingers to your needy cunt, and begin rubbing slow circles on your clit, remembering the feel of your mate.

“Az.” You moan running your fingers through his hair, hips bucking to meet his tongue that is currently lapping at your entrance as though it’s his last meal.

“Good morning my beautiful girl.” He says, moving to slide a finger inside you. “How many times shall I make you come for me this morning?” He questions, adding another finger.

You can’t help but sigh deeply at the memory of his fingers inside you, tossing your head back moving your fingers faster.

You hum in response to his question, but can’t find any words as pleasure is coursing through your body. He begins sucking on your swollen clit, making a knot form in your stomach. “I’m gonna cum.” You clasp a hand over your mouth to hold back the moan rising in your throat. But he stops, taking away the pleasure he’d been giving so freely moments before.

“Don’t you dare hide those beautiful moans from me, princess.” He pulls your hand away from your mouth and holds it with his free hand, then goes back to lapping at your core. “You come for me, baby girl. Come all over my face.” His words are your undoing, your release hitting you all at once. Your legs clench around his shoulders and you let go, cumming on his tongue as he keeps licking, and pumping his fingers inside you quickly.

A tug is sent from the other side of the bond, a satisfied grin plasters itself on your face knowing that Azriel can feel the please you’re giving yourself. You drop what little shield was left to you, letting him in fully, letting him feel the orgasm you’re close to giving yourself.

“Please, I need more.” You beg him, not feeling fully satisfied, needing his cock inside you.

“Beg for it, Princess.” He commands, placing rough kisses up your body, sucking once he gets to your swollen nipple. “Beg for my cock if you want it so bad.” His hand reaches up to play with your other nipple.

Your body can’t help but respond to his deep, lust filled voice. “Az please, I need your cock inside me. I need you to fill my pussy.” Your voice comes out in a desperate whine while you take in the assault on your nipples.

“Good girl.” He praises you, lining his beautifully long cock up with your desperate cunt.

He doesn’t take but a moment before pushing his entire length inside you, earning a lust filled moan from both of you.

A brief rustle beside you brings you back to reality. You can’t help but startle seeing a dark figure in the corner of your bedroom, but once you recognize the shadows of your mate you continue flicking your fingers over your clit.

“You dirty little slut.” Azriel growls, stalking over to the bed and gripping your ankles to pull you to meet him.

You laugh excitedly, knowing that you’re in trouble, but also knowing the punishment will be well worth it. “What did I do?” You ask innocently, eyes raking down the man before you. His cock bulging through his leathers, wings fluttering as they always did when lust overtook him, and his eye narrowed on you.

“You know exactly what you did.” He leans down, grabbing the hand that had just been rubbing your clit and pulled you to a sitting position. His lips are close to yours, but instead of kissing you he lifts your hand to his mouth and sucks on the two fingers covered in your wetness. “Take off the shirt.” He commands, leaving no room for argument.

You do as your told, and toss the shirt you’d taken from his dresser across the room. He stood above you not breaking eye contact, he loved to hold the power over you in the bedroom, to be in control. “Get your ass in the air.” Another command, causing your needy cunt to clench looking for something to fill it.

You turn yourself around so that your ass is in the air, and shake it for him. A hard smack lands on your left cheek, a moan from you as you savor the punishment. “Please Az, I need your dick inside me.” You beg, wishing more than anything that cock was filling you up like it had before he left.

He sucks gently at your collarbone, sure to leave a nice purple bruise after he’s done. His hips pull out of you teasingly slow before he shoves his cock back into you so hard your body pushes up. He repeats his thrust again and again, earning pleasure filled cries from you. “That’s right pretty girl, take my cock like a good fucking girl.”

You clench around his cock at his words, digging your fingers into his shoulder. “Good girl, clench that pussy around my dick. That’s right, take it just like that.” Another thrust into your aching pussy.

Smack. Your right cheek stings as he slaps it bringing you back to him. “Dirty slut, distracting me from my work.” One more slap to your left cheek and he pulls away, a whine leaving your lips. “Take my dick out, and if you’re a good girl maybe I’ll fuck you.”

You sit up quickly, facing him on the bed and begin undoing the leathers between you and his cock. A satisfied hum comes from him at your eagerness, earning you a soft caress on the cheek. As soon as you’ve undone his leathers and hauled them down you take in the beauty that is his length. Pre cum is spilling out of the tip, you lick your lips before getting to your knees in front of him, licking his entire length.

He groans your name, and puts a fist in your hair tugging at the roots. You open your mouth wide to fit him inside, and dip down to take as much as you could, using your hand to pump the remaining length. “Fuck, just like that princess.” He praises, keeping his grip in your hair while guiding you in sucking his cock.

A glance up at him shows you his eyes closed tightly, and lips parted slightly as his soft moans fill the room. You use your free hand to cup his balls and he stiffens immediately, eyes shooting open to look down at you. “You are my good girl, aren’t you?” He grabs both sides of your head and thrusts into your mouth several times, making your eyes fill with tears, and gag as his entire length is shoved down your throat. Just when you think you aren’t able to take more he stops, and pulls you up gently. “Aren’t you?”

You nod, wiping at the tears that had filled your eyes from the face fuck, and reach behind him to run a gently finger across the base of his wings. “Do you think you deserve my dick?” He questions, shuddering at your touch.

“Yes baby.” Your words sound like a plea. You can’t help but grind against his cock, needing the friction, your dripping pussy aching for relief.

He leans down to your shoulder placing an all too gently kiss there before wrapping his arms under your ass and picking you up. Instinctively you wrap your legs around him, and lull your head to the side as he sucks at the soft skin.

Before you know it, your back has hit the wall, and he crashes his lips to yours. “You are my good little girl.” He lines his tip up with your entrance and without another word, thrusts into you. “Who got your pussy so wet angel?” He asks, pulling out and thrusting back in quickly, his balls slapping against you while he fucks up into you.

“You did Az, my pussy is soaked only for you.” You moan, taking his cock up inside you, grinding as much as you can to create more friction on your clit.

He hold you up with one arm, still fucking you when he reaches between you and uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit. A red hot ball begins to form in your stomach, lewd sounds leaving your mouth as you try to form words around the ecstasy that you’re feeling.

“I’m g-gonna.” You try to get out, but just as the orgasm is about to take over you he pulls out and sets you on wobbling legs. “Az-” You beg, looking up, legs shaking as you’re unable to hold yourself up at the let down from you ruined orgasm.

“Not yet you’re not.” He drags you over to the bed, holding you up as your body comes down from the disappointment. “You’re coming on my mouth first, sweet girl.” He tells you, laying you down and kneeling before you.

His cock is being fisted in his hand as he pushes you down and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “You don’t cum until I tell you to. Is that understood?” His mouth is hovering over your soaked pussy, but he refuses to give you pleasure until you acknowledge his words.

“Yes baby.” You confirm, hips rolling looking for any sign of satisfaction.

He leans in and immediately starts lapping at your soaking cunt “You’re so beautiful.” He says into you, sucking and slurping sending lightning bolts of pleasure rushing through you. Your ruined orgasm coming back, full force.

As though he senses the oncoming orgasm, he tears his hand away from his cock so he can put two fingers inside you, pumping quickly while he continues sucking on your clit. The pleasure is about to burst out of you, and you know you need to ask before you come. “Please let me cum.” You beg, hips bucking to meet his finger thrusts.

“Come for me princess.” With those words you come undone, your pleasure fulled moans filling the room, mixed with the slurping of your pussy in Azriel’s mouth. “Mmm, good fucking girl.” He praises, as your body convulses, letting the orgasm run through you.

You moan his name and a string of curse words, running your fingers through his hair. “Now it’s my turn, and I’m going to cum in that little pussy of yours.” Another wave of pleasure consumes you as he lay over you and thrusts inside before letting you come down from your first orgasm.

He fills you so completely, stretching your cunt to the limits filling you with the most beautiful feeling. His large hand finds your throat, and squeezes just enough to send more pleasure through you, his pace quickening as he fucks into you harder.

You reach back and play with his wings, and close your eyes enjoying the feeling of his hand around your throat. “I’m gonna cum in your pussy and fill you with my seed. You little fucking whore.” His thrusts are becoming sloppy, he releases his grip on your throat and hold himself over you continuing to pump into you.

Your second orgasm burst out of you when he took your nipple in his mouth, the sensation overtaking you. You knew he was close, and the stimulation was becoming too much for you to bare, “Please cum inside me, I want you to put a babe in me, Az.” You knew the words would be his undoing, he’d been attempting to get you with child for years.

Just like that his weight was on top of you in the most loving way and you felt his cum filling you up. Your name continuing to fall off his lips as he kept thrusting to push his seed further inside. As he finished his hips pressed into you, creating an overstimulated cry leave your lips.

As he realized what caused the cry, he began grinding against you harder, a devious grin spreading across his lips. You try to push his weight off you, feeling another unwelcome orgasm creeping up inside you “Az it’s too much.” You beg, your hips betraying you and grinding into his.

The orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, another cry escaping out of you. “You have one more in you, I know it.” He slides down your body, and holds your hips in place while he attaches his lips to your exposed cunt again.

“Azriel!” You cry out, the overstimulation crashing into you, tears falling from your eyes and your cunt clenching trying to hold back an orgasm.

He nips at your bundle of nerves and that is your undoing, your final orgasm leaving your body like an exorcism. Cries of pleasure and pain fill the room as your cunt aches from overuse. “That’s my good girl” Azriel walks away for only a moment before coming back with a warm cloth.

He kneels before you, as your body is trying to regulate itself. “I’m going to clean you now princess, and you need to let me.” He instructs, you can’t do anything but nod as your adrenaline lowers. As he gently wipes at your dripping and aching pussy you want to pull away, but he holds you there getting every drop off you.

You can’t move in the aftershock of your orgasms, so he wraps his strong arms around you and brings you to the head of the bed, tucking you in. “Come love.” He whispers, pulling you close to him, letting you rest your head on his check.

“You were so good for me, you’re such a good girl.” He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, brushing a few stray hairs from your face. “And who knows maybe I will have finally put a babe in you.” He smiles lovingly at you, and you can’t help but swell with love also at the idea of carrying his child.

[xeruthana]

Your horns graze the ceiling of the apartment as you stand and stretch your arms. Even to full-grown humans, you're a bit tall. To this toddler, you must appear massive. Your dark purple skin shines faintly in the twilight creeping through the window, and your tusks protrude slightly from your lips.

To your surprise, rather than scream or cry at the sight of you, the toddler breaks out into a big cheesy grin. With a mischievous light in their eyes they run up to you, practically bouncing with excitement as they speak. "Wow! A real live demon! I can't believe I finally get to meet one in person!"

Needless to say you're a bit taken aback. You've been summoned by all types of humans... but you've never had this kind of a reaction before. This raw enthusiasm. You open your mouth to speak, your voice like gravel being ground into fine dust.

"Young one... your mother summoned me here to keep watch on you. I am X'arlathogleg. If that's too much of a mouthful, you may simply call me Gleggory. What is your name, child?"

The kid continues to show his excitement plain on his face as the two of you get to know each other. Their name is Adrian, and they are the child of a powerful witch. Their mother lives a very busy life, and is constantly looking for babysitters that can keep a child of the occult entertained. After many trials and errors, and a last minute cancellation... She decided to summon you. Despite your intimidating appearance, you have a reputation for being on the gentle side (for a demon), and have a few children of your own.

Adrian looks at you curiously before speaking: "Mr. Gleggory, what are we going to do today? Momma won't be back for a long time, not til past my bedtime. My other sitters have been pretty boring... but you're a hellspawn! We can have all kinds of fun!"

Your brow furrows at the term "hellspawn", but you decide to let it go for now. It would be complicated to explain your real heritage to a child. You kneel down to meet Adrian's gaze (although even on your knees you're still quite a bit taller), and begin to explain that despite being a demon, you don't actually have demonic powers. Looking scary is most of it. What you *do* have are many stories. Tales of heroism and villainy, life and death. Bravery and cowardice. Stories about the duality of man, magic, and demons alike.

Adrian seems a little disappointed at your lack of demonic abilities, but is nonetheless excited at the idea of new stories he has never heard. They run and sit on the couch, gesturing for you to do the same. As you sit next to them and clear your throat, you prepare to tell one of your favorite tales. You and Adrian will get along swimmingly.

You’re a demon. One day, you’re summoned into a living room, and an exhausted woman quickly rambles about needing to get to work and being unable to find a sitter before flying out the door. Now, you stand in your summoning circle, a toddler staring wide eyed at you.

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒.𝐒 | 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬’ 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧, and he finds himself tangled in the sheets next to me. The early morning sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a warm glow on my peaceful face. He glances at his phone on the nightstand, checking the time before turning back to me, his lips drawn to the soft curve of my neck.

“Wake up, baby,” he murmurs, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. “Happy birthday.”

I murmured sleepy sounds of protest as Chris starts peppering kisses on my neck, his warm lips trailing along my sensitive skin. I stir awake slightly, “Mmm” and “Hmmm” of pleasure escaping my lips. He smiles against my skin, enjoying the effect he's having on me.

Finally, his kisses find their way to my lips, capturing them in a slow, lazy kiss. “Morning,” he whispers between kisses.

I return the kiss, my lips still sleep-soft against his. “Mmm, good morning,” I mumble, my voice still heavy with sleep. His hands start to wander, drawing lazy patterns on my bare skin, and I can feel the heat building as his touch ignites a familiar need within me.

As our kiss breaks, Chris pulls back slightly, his gaze fixed on me with a tenderness that sends a shiver down my spine. “Did you sleep well, birthday girl?” he whispers against my lips, his voice low and hoarse with desire. His thumb brushes away a strand of hair from my face, caressing my cheek with a gentle touch as he waits for my response.

I smile, feeling a warm flutter in my chest at the nickname. “I slept well,” I reply, my voice still husky with sleep. “But it’s even better now that I’m awake with you.” My hands slide up his bare chest, feeling his warm skin under my fingertips. I press a soft kiss to his chin, my eyes meeting his with a playful glimmer.

Chris grins, his eyes darkening with desire at the feel of my hands on his chest. “You know, I’ve been thinking about your birthday all week,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “And I have something special planned for you.”

My heart quickens at his words, and I let out a soft laugh. “Oh yeah?” I ask, my fingers tracing the muscles of his back. “Care to give me a hint?”

Chris smirks, his lips lingering near my ear as he whispers, “Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?” His breath is warm against my skin, sending tiny shivers down my spine. His hand glides down my side, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” he teases, his fingers tracing along the edge of my sleep shorts.

I let out a soft moan as his fingers tease at the edge of my shorts, my body responding to his touch. “Come on,” I grumble, my voice still raspy with sleep. “Just give me a tiny hint.”

Chris laughs, his hand stilling on my hip. “You’re not going to get me to crack that easily, birthday girl,” he says, his eyes glinting with amusement. He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Patience, baby. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Chris lets out a reluctant sigh, his hands pausing in their exploration of my skin. “The dressers will be here soon, though,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with disappointment at the interruption. “We should get up.”

I pout slightly, not quite ready to leave the comfort of his arms. I press my face into his chest, whining softly. “Can’t we just stay in bed a bit longer?”

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He responds by leaning down, his lips capturing mine in a deep, gentle kiss. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him in closer as I let myself melt into the kiss. For a few moments, everything else fades away, and it's just the two of us, lost in each other.

Chris breaks the kiss, his lips moving slowly down to my neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. I tilt my head back, my breath coming in quick gasps as he finds the spot just below my ear that drives me wild. His hands roam over my body, caressing my curves with a possessive touch that makes my head spin.

Chris murmurs against my neck, his breath tickling my skin as he speaks. “It’s so hard to decide if I should give you your surprise now,” he whispers, his hands still roaming over my body, tracing the lines of my curves. “Or later.” He pulls back slightly, his gaze locking with mine, his eyes darkened with desire. “What do you think?”

I try to focus, my mind slightly hazy as his touch sends sparks of pleasure fluttering through me. “I thought you said the dressers were coming,” I manage to choke out, my breath catching in my throat.

Chris laughs softly, his expression filled with a mix of desire and amusement. “They can wait,” he replies, his fingers slowly tracing patterns on my bare skin. “We have time.”

Without warning, he crashes his lips onto mine again, the kiss hard and insistent, full of need and desire. My heart races as I cling to him, my hands tangling in his hair as I kiss him back, desperate for more. His tongue teases at the seam of my lips, seeking entrance, and I moan softly against his mouth as I surrender to him completely.

The kiss deepens, growing more intense as his hands roam over my body, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touch. I arch into him, my body pressing against his as the need for more, for closer, washes over me. As the kiss threatens to consume me, he pulls back, breaking it with a gasp. “God, you drive me crazy,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with desire.

Chris grips my waist, lifting me easily onto his lap, positioning me so I’m straddling him, my knees bracketing his hips. He leans back against the headboard, pulling me closer, his hands resting on the curves of my hips. I can feel the heat of his skin against me through the thin fabric of my shorts, my bare skin pressed against his bare chest. He pulls me closer, his hands sliding up my back as his lips find mine again in a fierce kiss.

The kiss is frenzied, desperate, as if he can't get enough. His tongue dances with mine, his hands pulling my hips down, pressing me against him in a way that makes my mind go blank. I can feel the heat and hardness of him through the thin barrier of our clothes, and my body responds with a need that borders on desperation.

I slowly raise my hands up his chest, feeling the hard muscles and the quickened beat of his heart under my fingertips. They come to rest on either side of his neck, holding him close as I lean down to deepen the kiss. My body molds against his as I slant my lips over his, my tongue delving into his mouth, matching the fierce tenderness of his touch.

Our noses touch as our mouths slant over each other, our kisses growing hungrier with each passing moment. We break apart briefly, our breath mingling, before coming together again, this time peppering soft, gentle kisses on each other's lips. He lets out a low moan, the sound sending a shiver down my spine as his hands tighten on my hips, pulling me closer.

Chris breaks the kiss, his lips moving to my jaw as he slowly trails down my neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses in their wake. I arch my neck, giving him better access, a soft moan escaping my lips. His hands glide over my bare skin, igniting little sparks of pleasure wherever he touches.

My hands find their way to his hair, my fingers tangling in the soft, dark strands as I draw him closer, wanting more of his kisses, more of his touch. My heart races, and I shiver as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot just below my ear. I tug at his hair, pulling his head back slightly, desperate for another deep, frantic kiss.

Chris looks up at me, his gaze filled with yearning and hunger. His lips are pink and swollen from our aggressive kisses, and his expression is almost feral, like a man possessed. I meet his gaze, my own eyes dark with desire, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I feel overwhelmed, yet at the same time, completely consumed by need for him.

I trace my thumb over his lips, and he lets out a small, shuddering breath as he looks at me. His gaze locks onto mine, his eyes a deep, dark blue, filled with a mixture of yearning and desire. “Let me worship you, baby,” he whispers, his voice husky and rough. “It’s your day.”

His hands slide under the hem of my tank top, pushing it up, exposing my stomach to the cool air. He mouths kisses along my neck, his lips moving lower, his touch almost reverent. He slowly rises the fabric higher, his hands guiding it over my head, casting it aside, leaving me in only my shorts.

His lips trail down to my shoulders, gently kissing and biting the sensitive skin there. My head tilts to the side, my eyes closing as I revel in the feel of his touch. He moves on to my collarbone, his tongue tracing the curve before he sucks lightly on the skin, leaving behind a small mark.

A soft moan escapes my lips, his name slipping from my mouth like a whisper. “Chris...” I breathe out, my body arching against his. My hands tangle in his hair, holding him close, desperate for more of his touch.

The friction between us, our bodies separated by only the thin fabric of our lower clothes, sends a wave of heat through me. I shift slightly, adjusting my position on his lap, and a low moan escapes his lips as I press against him, feeling his reaction to me.

Chris's lips trail lower, leaving a scorching path from my collarbone down to the swell of my breasts. He pauses briefly, his breath hot against my sensitive skin, before capturing one of my nipples into his mouth.

He sucks gently at first, his tongue swirling around the hard peak, making me arch my back and let out a soft whimper. As he nurses from my breast, his other hand reaches up to play with the other one, rolling and pinching the sensitive bud.

A breathy moan escapes my lips as Chris’s talented mouth and hands work in tandem to drive me wild with desire. I bury my fingers in his hair, holding him close to my chest as I grind my hips against his, seeking more friction.

Chris looks up at me with heavy-lidded eyes, his pupils dilated with arousal. As he continues to suck and tease my breasts, his free hand slowly slides down my body, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my shorts and slipping beneath the fabric.

He finds my slick heat and groans in approval, his fingers diving right in without hesitation. I gasp as he starts to rub my clit with his thumb, the other fingers curling inside me, stretching and preparing me for what's to come.

Lost in the haze of pleasure, I rock my hips against his hand, chasing the building tension. Chris’s mouth leaves my breast, and he looks up at me with a hungry gaze, his lips shiny with saliva. “Fuck, you’re so wet,”

He growls possessively, his fingers pumping faster inside me. He curls his fingers upwards, hitting that spot that makes my vision blur. “Chris,” I whimper, my nails digging into his scalp.

Chris kisses and nuzzles the sensitive skin under my chin, his lips trailing up to my neck as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of me. “You like that, don’t you, baby?” he murmurs against my skin, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine.

His fingers increase its speed and depth, hitting that magical spot inside me with every thrust. “God, yes,” I moan softly, throwing my head back to give him better access to my neck. His lips find that spot where my neck meets my shoulder, sucking gently.

He sucks and nibbles at my neck, marking me as his own as his fingers work their magic inside me. “Chris, please,” I beg, my body tensing as I get closer to the edge. He can feel it, his fingers curling even more, hitting that spot perfectly.

His fingers go even deeper, hitting that spot that makes my legs shake. I try to grab his wrist, to make him stop the overstimulation. “Shit, Chris,” I curse, trying to buck away from his fingers. But he's having none of that.

My body convulses as I reach my climax, a loud scream escaping my lips. Stars burst behind my eyes, and my inner walls clench tightly around Chris's fingers. He quickly removes his hand, bringing it up to his mouth and licking my juices off his fingers.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers against my lips before claiming my mouth in a passionate kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue, which only serves to turn me on even more. His free hand tangles in my hair, angling my head for a deeper kiss as he continues to praise me.

Chris slowly slides down the headboard until he’s lying completely flat on the bed, with me still straddling him. His hands reach for the waistband of my shorts, tugging gently. “Lift up, baby,” he murmurs, helping me slip them off and tossing them aside.

I reach down and grab the waistband of Chris's sweats, pulling them down his legs and off his feet. He kicks them aside, leaving him completely naked beneath me. I settle my weight back down on him, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine.

Chris sucks in a sharp breath as he feels my slick heat grinding against his now fully erect cock. His hands grab my hips, guiding my movements as I rub myself along his length. “Fuck, that feels incredible,” he groans, tilting his head back against the pillow.

His stomach clench beneath my fingers as I run them down his body, feeling every ridge and muscle. His hips buck up to meet my downward grinding, his length sliding between my slick folds but not quite entering me yet.

I lift myself up slightly, wrapping my hand around his thick length and positioning him at my entrance. I rub the head against my wet folds, making him hiss. “Fuck,” he mutters, watching my body through half-lidded eyes.

“Take me,” he rasps, his voice lower than usual. “I’m your surprise gift.” His body relaxes beneath me, giving himself over completely. He looks almost innocent like this, vulnerable. I love seeing this side of him. I line him up again, slowly lowering myself down.

“It’s all yours,” Chris breathes out, his hands gripping my hips tighter. I smirk at his words, lowering myself even deeper. “Oh yeah?” I teased. Chris lets out a strangled whimper, his head pressing back into the pillow.

“Use me baby,” Chris murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. His body trembles beneath mine as I move my hands up his chiseled chest, up to his neck. He tilts his chin up, his lips parting as I lean down closer, hovering just above his mouth.

I tease him for a moment longer, kissing his lips softly before moving to his jaw and then his neck, sucking on his pulse point. “Please, baby,” Chris begs, his voice desperate. “I can’t take it anymore. Move, please.” I chuckle against his skin, continuing to torment him.

Chris whimpers as I continue teasing him, my lips and tongue tracing patterns on his neck while I refuse to move. “Fuck, you’re killing me,” he groans, his hips twitching beneath me, desperately seeking friction.

I ignore his pleas, kissing and leaving marks on his collarbone instead. “Baby, please,” he begs, his voice cracking. I whisper in his ear, “Make me.” Chris’s patience snaps, and he grabs my hips with a desperate strength, forcefully grinding my hips down onto his.

“Mhmm~” I moan, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Like that?” Chris growls, his fingers tightening possessively on my hips. He knows exactly what he’s doing, hitting that perfect spot inside me. “Yes,” I hiss out, tossing my hair back.

I lift my body up, then drop myself back down on his length. “Holy shit,” Chris hisses, watching my body move. I do it again, bouncing harder this time, taking him deep. His hands fly to my thighs, spreading them wider. “Goddamn, baby,”

I bounce up and down on him harder, my hair flying around my face. Chris’s hands grip my thighs, his fingers digging in as he tries to control my movements. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” he chants, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

I reach for his hand, bringing it to my breast. “Fuck, touch me Chris. I need your hands on me,” I whimper, my pace never faltering. Chris eagerly obliges, squeezing and kneading my breast, his thumb flicking over my hardening nipple.

“Your pussy is fucking perfect,” he groans deeply, his other hand sliding between our bodies to find my clit. I cry out as he works me in tandem—thrusting up to meet my movements while rubbing tight circles. “Ride me deeper baby. Harder,”

I arch my back, throwing my head back in ecstasy as I continue to ride him hard. I bring my hands back to his thighs, gripping them tightly as I bounce up and down on his cock. The bed creaks and groans beneath us, the sound mingling with our panting and moans.

“Mhmmm~” I moan loudly, taking him deep. “Fuck yes,” Chris growls. “You take my dick so good baby.” “Mmm~” I arch my back again, bouncing faster. “Right there,”

I lean forward, hands pressing against his chest. Chris’s eyes darken at the sight of me completely taking him. “Look at you,” he grits out, “Taking that cock so fucking perfectly.” Chris hisses, his hands flying to my waist. “Fuck, just like that baby.” He asks, thrusting upward slightly. His voice drops to a sexier tone, “You’re stretched so tight around my cock...”

I start riding him faster, my hips slamming down onto his with each thrust. Chris meets me halfway, lifting his hips off the bed to bury himself deeper inside me. Our skin slaps together loudly, mixing with our ragged breaths and moans. “Oh fuck, Chris! Yes, yes, YES!”

I arch my back sharply, gripping Chris’s chest as I ride him relentlessly. The cool Italian breeze wafts in from the open window beside us, fluttering the sheer white curtains and dancing across our fevered skin. It’s a stark contrast to the intense heat building between our bodies with each thrust.

“You feel so good wrapped around me,” Chris growls, his fingers digging into my waist possessively. He lifts his hips higher to meet mine, filling me to the brim with each thrust. The headboard starts to bang against the wall rhythmically as we lose ourselves in passion.

I turn around abruptly, facing away from Chris and impaling myself back onto him. He wraps his strong arms around my waist, pulling me down onto him harder and faster. The bed creaks and groans beneath us, the headboard slamming into the wall with each thrust.

My ass slapped against his thighs loudly as I bounce up and down on his length. He spreads my cheeks apart slightly, getting an unobstructed view of himself disappearing inside me. His fingers tighten possessively on my hips, guiding my movements.

Chris slaps my ass decisively, the sharp sound ringing out alongside our moans. “Fuck, love the way this ass bounces,” he grunts, delivering another stinging slap. The sting mingles pleasurably with the intense sensations already flooding my body.

Chris palms my ass roughly, kneading them as he pulls me back harder onto his cock. The new angle has him hitting impossibly deep spots inside me, and I cry out sharply. “Oh god Chris, right there!” He obliges, thrusting up powerfully to grind against that perfect spot.

Without warning, my inner muscles clamp down tightly around Chris’s length. He must feel it because he mutters, “Shit,” just as I throw my head back and scream. My orgasm rips through me unexpectedly, my body convulsing and gushing all over his length and the bedsheets beneath us.

Chris quickly pulls out and lifts me up effortlessly. He places me gently on the edge of the bed, spreading my thighs wide apart. He lines up and enters me in one swift thrust, making me yelp. He grabs my legs and throws them over his shoulders, going deeper.

He starts to pound into me mercilessly, the new position allowing him to go even deeper. The head of his cock keeps hitting my cervix, sending delicious shivers down my spine. He leans down to capture my mouth in a searing kiss, our tongues dancing and twirling together.

I moan deeply into Chris's mouth as he kisses me fervently, each thrust pushing the air from my lungs. Our tongues slide together sensually, the kiss turning sloppy and desperate. Wet sounds fill the air—the lewd slipping of skin on skin and our muffled moans melding into one.

Chris breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against mine. Our noses brush, our hot breaths mingling between our slightly parted lips. He gazes into my eyes intensely as he continues to move inside me, the slow burn of pleasure building once more.

For a moment, we both freeze. Chris's eyes widen with a mix of amusement and annoyance. “Fuck,” he breathes out, not stopping his steady pace inside me. The knocking persists, Matt's voice calling out again. “Chris? Dude, you there?”

Chris calls out, “Yeah, Matt! One sec!” He increases his pace slightly, hitting that delicious spot deep inside me. He covers my mouth with one hand to muffle my moans. Matt continues talking outside. “You decent?”

Chris panics, looking down at me urgently. “Shh, baby, stay silent for me, okay?” He whispers quickly, his eyes wide with worry. He removes his hand from my mouth just long enough to call out, “No, um, just got out of the shower.”

“Okay, thanks Matt,” Chris responds, picking up his pace again. He knows his best friend is just outside the door, oblivious to the fact that he's balls deep inside me. Matt continues, “Alright man, see you later. They'll be there soon.”

Chris calls out to Matt through clenched teeth, trying hard to maintain his composure, “Yeah, got it. Thanks, man.” Then he whispers down to me, “Fuck, baby, you're doing so good keeping quiet...” He increases his pace slightly, hitting that sensitive spot inside me.

Chris leans down and kisses me deeply, his lips moving urgently against mine. He tries to distract me from the conversation outside and the impending arrival of the dressers. His tongue sweeps inside my mouth, tasting me greedily.

I reach up and grab onto Chris's biceps tightly, my nails digging into his skin. I pull away from the kiss, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. “I can’t take it anymore,” I whimper softly, my eyes pleading with him for release.

“You can take it,” Chris growls softly, his hips snapping forward. He grips my thighs tightly, pulling me down onto his length harder and faster. He swallows my soft moans with his mouth, kissing me hungrily.

I throw my head back, moaning loudly as Chris slams into me. I can feel the pleasure building inside me, my body tensing up. Chris whispers against my lips, “Atta girl, take it like the good girl you are.” His words send me over the edge.

I tangled my fingers into Chris's messy hair, pulling him down for a sloppy, messy kiss. Our bodies are pressed tightly together, his chest against my heaving breasts. Chris grips the sheets tightly, his arms shaking with the effort of holding back his own release as I come undone beneath him.

“Fuck, Chris,” I whimper against his lips, my voice trembling with need. I can feel another climax building fast, my inner walls clenching around him tightly. Chris groans into the kiss, his hips stuttering as he feels my body tensing up again.

Chris pounds into me relentlessly, his cock hammering against that sweet spot deep inside. He presses firmly on my stomach, angling his hips to hit just the right angle with every powerful thrust. “Shit, I can feel myself in you,” he grunts, his voice husky with lust.

Chris's lips find their way to my neck again, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. I wrap my arms tightly around his back, holding on for dear life as he fucks me brutally. My moans become louder, more urgent, “Chris... oh god, Chris!”

“Cum for me, baby...” Chris moans against my neck, his hips moving at a punishing pace. Every thrust press my body deeper into the sheets, causing friction against my sensitive clit. My fingernails dig into his back as he hits the perfect spot inside me, making me see stars.

“FUCK” I moan loudly, throwing my head back. He takes advantage of my exposed neck, sucking hard on the pulse point. He knows it drives me crazy. His hips snap forward harder, deeper. He hits my womb, sending waves of pleasure mixed with slight pain. “God... your big...” I moan softly, my legs wrapping tightly around his waist. He growls, “Too deep?”

“God no,” I gasp out, “Feels... so good... So deep... Like you're touching my womb.” Chris swallows hard, his hips moving like a jackhammer.

“You like this?” Chris growls, his hands sliding under my back to lift my hips higher, allowing him to slam into me even deeper. “You like being filled up like this?” He asks through gritted teeth, his hips stuttering as he feels my inner walls convulse around him.

“Yes! fuck yes!” I scream out, my back arching off the bed. Chris groans deep in his throat, “You're such a fucking dream. Taking my cock so well...” He grips my hips harder, “Cum with me baby... fuck!”

Chris thrusts deep and hits my cervix, making me scream loudly. “CHRIS!” My inner walls spasm around him tightly, milking his length. He swells inside me, his body stiffening. He lets out a deep growl, “Shit baby...” he throws his head back, his mouth wide open as he finally releases inside of me. My inner walls milk him for every last drop, my body convulsing uncontrollably.

As we come down from our high, I can feel the liquid pouring out of me, soaking the bedsheets beneath us. Chris tries to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he looks down at me, his body still hovering above mine, his arms shaking slightly. “Damn...”

Our bodies are slick with sweat, both of us breathing heavily. The cool breeze from the open window does little to relieve the heat between us—instead, it just creates goosebumps on our exposed skin. Chris stays positioned between my legs, not wanting to pull out just yet.

Chris looks down at me, his blue eyes hazy with post-orgasmic bliss. His messy hair sticks to his forehead, a few strands falling into his eyes. He licks his swollen lips, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he tries to catch his breath.

“Fuck, you look so good,” I whisper, my gaze drinking in the sight of him. I reach up to tangle my fingers in his messy hair. My other hand slowly running down his arm, feeling the bracelet he would always wear. God that bracelet. I always felt a certain way when I saw it. It makes me go feral every time he would wear it. I came to realize that I’m so horny for him that even what he wears makes me go crazy.

Chris chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans closer, “How about a round four?” He murmurs teasingly. I let out an incredulous laugh, pushing weakly at his chest.

“Boy bye, you’re crazy,” I reply with a breathless giggle, my body still trembling slightly from our intense lovemaking session. “I can barely move, let alone go another round.” Despite my words, I can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought.

Chris chuckles softly, his warm breath fanning over my face before he leans down to press a soft and passionate kiss to my lips. The kiss is slow and gentle, a stark contrast to the rough and intense way he just fucked me. His tongue slowly slides against mine, tasting me deeply.

“Mmm...” he breaks the kiss slowly, whispering against my lips in that irresistible southern drawl of his, “Happy birthday, baby...” he ran his fingers through my hair. “Even though I just fucked you senseless, wanted to make sure I said it once more.” his lips placing soft kisses along my jawline.

He continues to pepper kisses along my jawline, his warm breath tickling my ear as he whispers, “Hope you love your surprise...don’t worry this isn’t all you’re getting.” His voice is low and conspiratorial, making me curious about what else he has planned for my birthday besides the intense physical activity we just engaged in.

A/N: BIRTHDAY POST!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME 🥳

TAGS: @st6rify ✮⋆˙ @jetaimevous ✮⋆˙ @certifiedstarrr ✮⋆˙ @slvtf0rchr1s ✮⋆˙ @l3sbiancvnt ✮⋆˙ @wh0remikasas ✮⋆˙ @r0s3luvr ✮⋆˙ @emely9274 ✮⋆˙ @mimiluvzpicklez ✮⋆˙ @courta13

── .✦ MASTER—LIST ⭑𓂃

[not-neverland06]

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙻𝚊𝚗𝚍’𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜

Pairing ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

A/N: Oh. My. God. I am so sorry this got delayed so many times. This is such an important chapter to me, it plays such a pivotal role in "Y/N's" development that I kept scrapping it and starting over. I didn't want to give this to you guys until it was perfect, and I think I've gotten about as close as I can. I'm predicting one more story chapter and then possibly one short epilogue.

Next Part - Hell Hath No Fury Series

Summary: Arthur's gone and you're own once more. The familiar ache of grief lingers as it always does. But the clouds must always part for light. Through death and grief, you still manage to find yourself.

It always seems to be cold at night, now that Arthur’s no longer there to keep you warm. You curl into yourself, knees tucked to your chest as you smother your face in the thin pillow on your cot. You press the fabric tightly to your mouth, trying to keep the sounds of your crying out of the other’s dreams. 

There should be no surprise that you’re on your own again. Beating a dead horse doesn’t make it move, but somehow, you keep finding yourself tangled in the reins, dragged along by the memory of men who’ve long since let go. You wonder, sometimes, if your life is one bet of many between god and the devil, seeing which one of them can get you to break first.  What you could have done to draw their ire, you don’t know, but you’re not sure how much more pain and loss you can handle. Your lifetime is filled with the empty graves of those you’ll never see again. Now, Arthur’s is just another headstone to add to your endless cemetery.

You worry that you’re too loud on the harder nights. But no one’s ever complained that they hear you crying and you figure they’re all probably too busy mourning in their own way to notice the way you do. 

Abigail is practically an empty shell of herself without John. As much as they fought she doesn’t seem to know what to do with herself. Especially knowing he’s in jail, destined for the noose, and there is nothing she can do about it. 

Karen’s not doing much better. With Sean in jail alongside John, she’s fallen to the drink. She’s adopted a fatalist view that, without Dutch, you are all doomed to die at the hands of the Pinkertons. Sometimes, looking at the depressing faces of those around you, you think she might be right.

Stuck out in the middle of nowhere, with only two rotting cabins between what was left of the gang, you are a far cry from the fearsome outlaws you once were. This is no longer the Van der Linde gang. Now, you’re barely any better than a group of desperate wanderers. 

You know sleep won’t come to you tonight, you’ve been tossing and turning for hours. Any longer and you’ll wake everyone else up. Wiping roughly at your eyes, you slip a blanket around your shoulders and head toward the creaking door of the cabin. You try to keep in mind that one wrong step and the groaning wood below you will alert everyone. 

Barefoot, you walk along the muddied planks of the porch and head towards what’s left of tonight’s fire. It’s not ever-burning as it once was. The gang takes care to ensure if anyone were to come looking for you all, you wouldn’t be such easy targets. 

You sink onto the log before the dying fire, with embers glowing faintly in the darkness. Sparks flicker and leap from the blackened wood, a futile effort to reignite the flame. Their struggle is in vain, though, there is no life left to kindle, no warmth to revive. The fire is gone. 

Light footsteps make their way towards you, but you keep your gaze steady on the flickering struggle before you. “I’m gettin’ real tired of this,” Sadie’s disappointed sigh is a familiar one as she comes to stand behind you. 

“Were you in town again?” You ask, ignoring the glare you feel boring into your back. She stares at you for a while longer before letting out a rough sigh and throwing herself down beside you. The log shifts slightly under her weight and you dip towards her. 

“I was,” she grumbles, something white balled up tightly in her fist. You turn towards her finally, eyes narrowed on the paper in her grasp. Her face is drawn tight, jaw set angrily as something vengeful burns within her gaze. 

“What is that?” You ask, tone inquisitive but not truly interested. Her eyes dart towards you before she shakes her head and tosses the paper to the dying fire. What’s left of it, licks eagerly at the paper, trying its damndest to burn brighter.

“Nothin’, don’t worry about it. Why can’t you sleep?” Her switch in conversation is quick and far from subtle. Your head tilts slightly in curiosity, gaze switching between her and the paper that’s slowly curling up at the edges. She’s hiding something, it’s easy enough to tell from the way she refuses to meet your eyes. Besides, she’s snuck into town plenty of times, you’ve never seen her come back this riled up before. 

You jump to your feet and she startles at the quick move. “Don’t,” she snaps, snatching at your wrist as you rush by her and swipe the paper from the fire pit. Sadie gets to her feet, hand held out with an expectant look as she waits for you to give her back to paper. When you don’t comply immediately, she says your name, voice low and tense, a warning. 

Lips curling up slightly in challenge, you leap back as she lunges for you, holding the paper away from her. “What is it?” You tease, curiosity curling over the lingering ache from earlier. 

She snaps your name again and you flinch back in surprise, “I mean it, don’t look at the goddamn paper.” You’d only been joking with her, trying to focus on anything other than Arthur. Now, there’s a familiar churning feeling of dread as you look at your friend. She’s not angry at you, she’s angry at the thin sheet you’re holding. There’s something on here she doesn’t want you to see, not for her own sake, but for yours. 

Your breath quickens, heart dancing dangerously fast against your ribs as you finally look at what’s in your hand. She hisses your name but you stubbornly ignore her, frowning when you realize it’s a torn-out piece of a newspaper. It’s a smaller article from the local St. Denis paper stand, talking about a ferry being lost at sea. 

“Oh, god,” you whisper, hand coming up to cover your mouth as bile rushes up your throat. You bite down on your tongue until the taste of iron fills your mouth, holding back the nausea. “This is him, isn’t it?”

Sadie lets out a rough sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I didn’t want you to know.”

“You were just gonna hide this from me?” You nearly shout, taking one angry step towards her. Her brows turn down in guilt, mouth settling into a thin line as she shakes her head. “No? You weren’t?” You demand, tone rough with grief. “You were just going to wait until I put the pieces together myself?”

“Dammit, woman, you’re barely holding it together,” she barks out, snatching the paper from you once more. She turns her back on you, shredding it into pieces so small you’ll never be able to finish reading it. “I was going to wait until I didn’t think you were on the brink of completely fallin’ apart. Besides, it doesn’t say anything about the people on the ship, we don’t know what happened.”

“We never will!” The words tear out of you, a sharp, bitter exhale. A panicked smile twists your lips as you struggle to keep yourself upright. “Sadie, your husband is dead, you know that. You have your answer. I never will. I will never know what happened to him. And it doesn’t even matter because he left me!” Your voice cracks, a sob slipping free despite your best efforts to swallow it down. “I shouldn’t care about that goddamn bastard, but I do.” You turn away from her, shoulders caving in as you wipe roughly at the tears streaming down your cheeks. 

There’s a beat of silence behind you. You miss the way her face falls, her hardened exterior falling away just for a moment. She looks at you with something like understanding, pity more likely. She steps forward, her arms winding around your shoulders, trying to hold you steady through the pain. You struggle against her hold for a moment but she keeps her grip firm, forcing you to succumb to the small comfort. 

You sink into her embrace, breath hitching as the grief claws its way up your chest, relentless and unyielding. You can’t keep doing this. You aren’t made to endlessly love and lose, to watch pieces of yourself crumble with every goodbye. It feels as though there should be nothing left of you- no bleeding heart, no raw edges. And yet, every time you think you’ve reached your limit, life finds a way to push you further. 

But life, pain, and the ugly company of grief never stops or goes away, despite how much you wish they would. 

A few weeks later

Physical pains and ailments heal. There may be scars left behind, but for the most part, you can be wholly healed. Anguish of the mind and heart is a different beast to conquer altogether. That sort of pain ebbs and flows. It doesn’t slip away neatly. It comes and goes, sneaking upon you when you least wish for it. 

Distractions can dull the edge. The looming danger of death and the law from any of your multitude of enemies helps. But more often than not, the weight remains a leaden burden on your shoulders and a gnawing ache deep in your chest.

For now, the pain has numbed into something dull that makes you clench your teeth and hiss. But if you force yourself, you can find steady ground to stand on. You can keep yourself calm and sated, if you focus yourself on the anger rather than the grief. 

Anger comes easier than healing. It lashes out at the world and balms over the constant pain, if only for a little while. You find yourself getting into more and more fights around camp. The forgiveness of shared grief has its limits and you’ve been testing them for a while. You’re curious how far you can push before you’re forced out by the rest of them. 

Sadie’s efforts of finding a new place for you all to hide don’t go unappreciated. But this cabin feels like a cage, no matter how far you’ve come from the mud and chaos of the old abandoned camp.  The tight space presses against you, the silence weighs heavy against your chest and constricts around you tightly. You hear the faint rustle of the trees in the wind, but it’s a vacuous cavern inside. 

The memories of Shady Belle plague you like a ghost. The brief moments when you could almost forget everything pressing down, but now, that place, too, is just another reminder of what’s been lost. Memories of nights spent with Arthur or sitting outside and listening to Javier play his guitar are tainted with loss and rage. 

Sadie and Charles provide you brief comfort, but it will never be enough to make this place feel like home. You try to shake thoughts of Arthur, what the gang once was, and everything that came before. You’ve been running for so long, from your past and who you once were, but it feels like you’re being dragged right back. 

Unable to handle the suffocating silence any longer, you take Arthur’s bow out from the chest under your cot. You grab a handful of arrows and jump to your feet. Throwing the door of the cabin open, you stride past everyone lingering outside. A few people give you odd looks, but they don’t stop you from leaving. You’ve become a dark cloud around camp, your presence heavy and actions unpredictable. It’s almost a relief for them when you’re gone. 

Lady’s just as restless as you are, except the dumb beast doesn’t understand that neither of them are coming back. Charles doesn’t know what happened to Diablo or the other horses when he fled St. Denis and you’re not interested in looking for them. She’ll just have to live with the pain, same as you. 

“Let’s go,” you mutter, swinging onto her saddle and leading her out of camp. It’s as if a weight slips from your shoulder the further you get from camp. The tight grip constricting around your chest loosens and for the first time in days, you can draw a full breath as the world opens before you. 

The thick groves of trees thin and give way to sprawling plains of grass and wildflowers that stretch endlessly. Steering Lady off the trail, you ride her hard and fast, determined to put as much distance between yourself and those suffocating cabins. Dirt kicks up under her hooves, flying up behind you as she pushes herself to the limit. 

The world around you blurs into streaks of green and gold as memories and grief slip away from you. You lean forward over Lady’s neck, urging her to go faster even as she huffs beneath you. You’re racing the wind, chasing after a dream that’s been lost to you. The air lashes at your face, the sting sharp and cold. Your eyes burn and you tell yourself it’s the wind, even as wet streaks drip down your cheeks.

Bright beams of sunlight streak across the ground, illuminating the path forward. Morning dew glistening under the light, transforms the earth into a field of stars beneath your boots. You draw in a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill your lungs, and tighten your legs around Lady’s sides, signaling her to slow. Her chest heaves beneath you, each breath a puff of steam in the cold air. You can feel her desire to keep running, that shared, desperate need to escape clawing at both of you. 

But she’s exhausted, and no matter how much you’d like to keep going, you can’t push her until she collapses. You’re tethered, whether you like it or not, you’re always going to be pulled back to camp. It’s a cage and a haven. Though you hate the confinement, deep down you know survival outside of it might be beyond you. You don’t trust yourself not to wither in the wilderness alone. 

The sound of water rushing draws your attention and you turn towards a green hill rousing in the distance. Guiding Lady toward it, you crest the incline and slip off her saddle, letting her graze.

Below, a river carves through the land. Its rushing currents are strong enough to carry something away with no hope of return. You step closer to the edge, peering down as the sunlight dances on the water’s surface. It runs like liquid gold, unnaturally beautiful, almost hypnotic, like the siren call of a sailor’s doom. 

A herd of deer drift alongside the river, their presence serene and almost make the idea of simply drifting away, peaceful. Your foot inches closer to the edge, slipping on the wet grass, and for a split second, the earth feels like it’s tilting forward.  

“You don’t usually ride out this far.” 

The voice snaps you back, and you gasp, spinning around. Charles stands behind you, one hand on Taima’s saddle, watching you with a calm but expectant expression. 

“I can’t stand being there,” you say, moving toward Lady. Your hands fumble with her saddlebag, needing something to occupy them. His eyes flick briefly to the river, then back to you, his gaze sharp and knowing. 

“You’re not the only one.” He strolls to the edge and whistles softly.  “Far drop.” 

You keep your hands busy, pretending to rummage through your belongings. “I’m a good swimmer,” you tell him, voice flat. 

“Not that good.” His tone is clipped, a warning wove into his words.  

You let out a sharp breath and finally turn to face him. “What do you want, Charles?”

He shrugs, resting one hand on his belt as his dark eyes assess you. “Thought you might want some company.” He pauses, his voice lowering. “Or, at least someone to keep you from doing something stupid.”

You wince, knowing how it must have looked. You’re hurt and desperate, but you’re no fool. The river might be pretty, but you’re not looking to drown yourself in it. “It wasn’t anything like that,” you insist, and Charles gives you a sharp, assessing look. “Charles,” you snap, exhaling in frustration.  “Honestly. I just,” you take in a slow breath, shaking your head, eyes downcast. “I need a break.”

“Alright,” he says simply. “We’ll take one together.” He walks back to the cliff’s edge, dropping down to sit with his legs dangling over the side. He glances over his shoulder and motions you to join him. 

Your fists clench at your sides as you take slow, reluctant steps toward him. The dew on the grass seeps into your pants as you sit beside him, hands folded in your lap. Out of the corner of his eyes, you catch his profile, calm, steady, and scarred. 

The aftermath of St. Denis lingers on his face. A fresh scar cuts along his jawline, a reminder of how close he came to joining the others who didn’t make it. Yet, with some of them gone, he seems more at ease. Charles never agreed with Dutch’s grandiose visions, and though he and Arthur had a bond, it’s clear the gang’s collapse has freed him from some invisible yoke. He wears his hair in a braid lately, speaking with nearby tribes and helping them when he’s not in camp. 

If it wasn’t for some odd honor-bound obligation he’s got to you and a few others in camp, you don’t doubt that he’d be riding free by now. Still, he stays with you, and selfishly, you’re glad for it. 

A gunshot cracks through the quiet, echoing among the hills. Birds take flight from the treetops as a hunting group crashes through the grove below. They circle around the herd of deer and let their bullets fly wild. Their hounds snap at the flanks of the animals, jaws clamping around the soft throats of the doe. 

Charles scoffs, shaking his head in disgust. “You don’t kill the does,” he mutters angrily. “Just the bucks. These men... they have no respect for the laws of nature.”

You let out a sardonic huff of laughter, gesturing toward the chaos below.  “Welcome to the future of our country,” Your gaze drifts toward the horizon, where smoke from St. Denis factories smudges the sky. Even this far out, civilization stretches its claws, unstoppable. “The west is dying, Charles. The time of outlaws, of freedom, is being shackled and destroyed.”

You turn to face him, meeting the same burning anger in his eyes that’s been smoldering in your own for weeks. It’s the first time you’ve seen that fire in him so clearly- the shared, silent rage, you’ve both been trying to suppress. “Our time is over,” you tell him, voice low with finality. 

His eyes narrow, jaw tight with defiance. For a moment, he says nothing, but then he rises to his feet, his movements purposeful. “Maybe,” he says, his voice steady, “but not today.”

Without another word, he strides toward Taima, tightening the saddle and checking the reins with precision. “What’re you doin?” You call after him, brows knitting together in confusion. 

He gestures toward the hunters below, his tone sharp. “You want to do something stupid. Fine. But take it out on someone who deserves it, not yourself.” 

His words hit like a slap, and before you know it, he’s leading Taima down the hill. 

You linger in the sharp sting of what he said only for a moment. Jumping to your feet, you rush to Lady, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you mount her. With a kick of your heels, you follow Charles down the path toward the hunters, your rage finally finding a target. 

For the first time in a long while, the weight around your chest lightens. You might not be able to fix the world, but you can make sure someone pays for tearing it apart. And as you ride beside Charles, you remember why he’s still here. He’s not just keeping you alive, he’s giving you something to live for.

Sitting inside the cabin, the smell of venison drifts toward you. After the incident with the hunting party, you and Charles salvaged what you could of the herd. Neither of you liked the idea of anything going to waste. Some materials were given to the local tribe, and the rest have been feeding the camp for days now. 

Last night, you’d scoured the woods for herbs and other ingredients and discreetly left them on Pearson’s cooking table. You were growing desperate for a flavor other than plain meat. Judging by the faint smell of mint wafting through the air, it seems he finally took the hint. 

Propped against your flimsy pillow, you run your fingers along the worn leather of the journal in your lap. For weeks, you’ve toyed with the idea of opening it, of seeing the world through Arthur’s eyes. 

Here, in the rare serenity of a quiet camp, you finally give in. The journal is as you would expect, sketches, details of some of the more pivotal moments for the gang. Every once in a while you’ll find a sketch of someone and a brutally honest recollection of how Arthur thought of them. Some of them are less flattering than you would have thought, you’re almost worried for how he might have seen you. 

You make it through his entries about Blackwater, the sun setting lower in the horizon as the light from the window gets dimmer. Outside, voices grow louder as people gather around the fire for dinner. You force your eyes to stay on the page, blocking out their drifting voices. 

His entries after the mountains are almost amusing. He’s clearly frustrated about something, though, he skirts around directly addressing what it is. Only a few times are you directly mentioned, for the most part, he avoids writing about you. But you catch glimpses of yourself hiding in the pages. A half-finished sketch of your hand holding his, the beginnings of your face abandoned before he can finish. 

There’s an entry a few weeks after you acquired Lady. A sketch of her and Diablo grazing together, their noses nearly touching as they crane their necks towards the grass. Surrounding the drawings are small notes about herbs and foliage he’d collected on his hunting trips. Among those sketches, there’s a small blurb about the horses.  

Diablo seems to be taking a liking to Lady, odd pair, I think. 

An odd pair, you suppose there’s not a better way to put it. Something that never should have worked, a devil and a lady, yet it still clawed and fought to find its way. In the end, though, one of them was always going to be left behind. You can’t help but wish it hadn’t been you.

A rough sigh escapes you, and you flip past the next few pages. Then, you stop. A familiar pair of eyes stare back at you. 

You’ve changed so much since this journey began. Your skin is weathered, your once-pristine hair is now more often than not dirtied and knotted from the wind. Your body has grown leaner, stronger, shaped by the relentless movement and harsh diet. The woman in the red dress from St Denis was already a stranger, someone you couldn’t recognize. 

Even from Arthur’s view, you still don’t know her. The general shape of your face remains. You have the same slope to your nose, your jaw still tilts the same way. But your eyes are so different. He drew them with fire, with life, with a fight you had once thought yourself incapable of. 

You feel invulnerable as you stare down at her, as though her fire can be passed so easily to you. The feeling flickers and fades, replaced with the same familiar ache you’ve grown used to. 

You can’t make sense of it, how he could have seen you so kindly, and yet still walked away. 

“Got that look in your eye again,” Sadie’s voice cuts through the stillness, startling you. She leans against the doorway, one hand lingering on the revolver strapped to her hip. 

“What look?” You mutter, glaring down at the journal. It feels too raw, too personal to keep reading. Torturing yourself with thoughts of him isn’t getting you anywhere. He’s gone. You’ve faced death all your life- mourn, move on. That’s how it’s meant to go.  

“Angry,” Sadie tells you, voice soft and knowing. “Like how I looked after I lost Jake. You ain’t look like that when you lost your husband.”

You shrug, fingers tracing the lines of your face through Arthur’s eyes. “Arthur was nothing like my husband. He leaves something to be mourned,” you tell her simply. She watches you a moment longer, but when you get to your feet, her expression sharpens. 

“Going somewhere?”

“Out,” you reply curly, the cabin walls closing in around you. You’re growing tired of the suffocating way Charles and Sadie hover as if they’re both waiting for you to break again. That moment on the cliff, your grief by the fire, it was all a lapse of judgment, nothing more. You’ve fought too damn hard for your freedom just to throw it away because the men you love always leave you behind. 

“Need some compan-”

“No,” you snap, cutting her off. Your tone leaves no room for argument. 

You step outside, the balmy evening air clinging to your skin as you head toward Lady. You don’t know where you’re going, but that’s fine. You just know you need to figure out how to live for yourself. And you can start by riding. 

The moon hangs heavy in the sky, its light threading through the plains like silver threads. Clouds roll overhead, slowly swallowing the stars. You smell rain in the air, a promise of a storm tomorrow. You’re sure you’ll be holed up in the cabins tomorrow while it pours. 

For now, you have the trail and the night for yourself. You let Lady take the lead, her slow gait a soothing rhythm as you settle into the ride. Normally, you don’t risk staying away from camp overnight. There are too many lawmen and bounty hunters looking to make a name for themselves. Tonight, though, you make an exception. 

A loud whoop cuts through the stillness, yanking you from your thoughts. You pull Lady to a halt, eyes roaming the dark horizon. A lone rider crests the hill, silhouetted against the moonlight, his path set toward something hidden around the bend.

“Must be my lucky day!” He hollers, voice manic. There’s a flash, the sharp crack of a gunshot splitting the quiet, and a scream follows. 

You curse under your breath, driving your heels into Lady’s sides. The two of you round the bend in time to see the rider poking his head into a finely adorned carriage. The driver slumps lifelessly over the reins, blood pooling beneath him.

Grimacing, you draw back into the shadows of the hill. “Alright, ladies first,” the bandit taunts. He reaches into the carriage, his groping hand causing a shrill shriek before he’s grabbing a woman and tossing her into the dirt. You grit your teeth, tucking yourself further out of sight, hoping to go unnoticed.

The glint of his revolver catches the moonlight as he climbs into the carriage. From inside, the muffled sounds of arguing give way to fists striking flesh. The woman lies with her face obscured by her hands. She flinches and sobs with each punch landed and the noises make Lady shift uneasily. Her hooves snap against the dried brambles of a dying bush. 

“Damn horse,” you mutter, eyes clenched shut as the noises momentarily pause. 

“Who’s there?” He calls out. It’s barely a moment before his patience snaps and he fires a warning shot into the air. “You don’t want me to come find you,” he warns, voice low and tight. 

Knocking the brim of your hat down, you let out a resigned sigh and turn the corner, forcing yourself into the open. “Howdy,” you call out, trying to mimic the casual confidence Arthur used to have in moments like these. Bandits, outlaws- they all recognize each other through the ease with which they face situations like this. You only hope you’re a good enough liar. “Just passin’ through, friend, no need for problems.” 

For a moment, his gun dips to his side. Then, his face is twisting into a wide, erratic grin. “Nice trail isn’t it? Perfect for catching big fish,” he says, swinging the revolver toward the woman’s husband. She whimpers loudly and grasps at the slumped-over man. You can hear his shallow, wet breaths from where you sit. 

“There ain’t no need to shoot ‘em,” you tell him, voice steady despite the tension coiling around you. “There’s a fence not far from here, you’ll get more money selling that carriage than you will killin’ them.”

He crackles and it makes your skin crawl. “Where’s the fun in that?” He sneers, cocking the hammer back as he points the gun at the woman. 

This man laughs, taking far more pleasure in tormenting others than in the act of robbery itself. He’s malicious, sadistic—the very picture of a perfect outlaw. For a fleeting moment, he sees something in you, thinks you might be cut from the same ruthless cloth. But he’s wrong, and there’s something exhilarating about stepping beyond the mold your family and husband once shaped for you, discovering who you can be on your own terms.

Your hand drifts to the revolver on your side, slowly easing it out of your holster. His head snaps toward the sound of you pulling the hammer back, but it’s too late. From your spot atop Lady, all you see is blood splatter as his body drops to the floor. The woman screaming lets you know you hit your mark near perfect. 

Opposed to the man now bleeding out in the dirt beneath you, there’s no thrill in the kill, no satisfaction. Just the cold thrum of your nerves, the slight tremor in your hands as you slide off Lady and stride toward the couple. 

With the bandit dead, the woman’s husband seems to make a miraculous recovery. He springs up, blood still streaming along his chin. “Thank God for you, sir-”

He stops short when you tip your hat back. Perhaps his ears were still ringing from one too many blows, dulling his senses, or maybe he was simply too pigheaded to grasp the fact that he’d just been rescued by a woman. You level him with an unimpressed glare. “Not a problem,” you say flatly

“Oh, good heavens,” the woman gasps, whispering your name with a startling familiarity. You freeze, eyes wide, as your blood runs cold. 

Elsbeth Morton. 

You’d know the voice anywhere. Of all the people you could have run into, she’s the last you’d ever want to see. Your tormenter through finishing school. She used to cut your hair in your sleep, stain your dress, and make your life a misery for sport. 

Her sneer hasn’t changed, though the lines around her mouth suggest her spite has only deepened. “Well,” she drawls, voice laced with faux pity, “I see nothing much has changed for you. Still scrounging out an existence in the dirt, are we?”

Your jaw tightens. “Elsbeth,” you grit out. “You’re welcome.”

She laughs, short and derisive in a way that makes you bristle. “For what? Subjecting me to this humiliating spectacle? Honestly, I think I preferred the company of the bandit. At least he had the decency to get on with it instead of pretending to play the hero.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to stay calm, but she doesn’t stop. “It’s almost tragic,” she continues, brushing the dirt from her skirts as if trying to erase the sight of you. “You’re still so desperate for approval, aren’t you? Trying to prove you’re something you’re not. What’s next? A big speech about how strong and independent you are?” She snickers, tugging her husband to his feet. “We both know better.”

Your voice comes out low and steady. “You’ve always been good at pretending you’re better than everyone else, Elsbeth.” God hates you, you’re sure of it. If he doesn't, why is she here? Dragging you back to everything you loathed about your former self—the vapid, dependent, hollow shell of a woman who had once believed her worth was defined by the man standing beside her.

“Pretending?” she snaps, narrowing her eyes. “Darling, I don’t need to pretend. You can wear all the trousers you want, but we both know you’re still the same timid little girl, hiding behind a man and hoping no one notices she doesn’t belong.”

Her words cut, but they don’t sting the way they once would have. Instead, they ignite something, a fire born not of anger, but clarity. 

You’re not the man bleeding out in the dirt, killing for the joy of it. But you aren’t the polished girl she remembers, desperate for a man’s approval. You’re something else entirely. Unbound by society, free to choose your own path, you’re a beast of your own creation. And if there is one thing you’ve learned about yourself- you love putting your past in the grave. 

You let out a slow breath, your hand drifting toward your revolver. “Elsbeth,” you call, voice sharp enough to cut through her self-satisfied grin.

She stops, turning back with an arched brow. “What now?” she huffs. “Come to beg for my acceptance? Or just another pathetic attempt to-”

“That husband of mine,” you interrupt, voice cool as steel, “was good for one thing.” You draw your revolver, the barrel leveling with her chest. “Teaching me to shoot.”

Her eyes widen, her sneer faltering as her hand instinctively flies to her necklace.

Your lips curl into a wicked smile. “Now, how about you hand over those pretty jewels?”

She scoffs, but you see the way her grin falters, the slight fear in her eyes. You shoot her a wink and take a step closer, reveling in how she stumbles back. 

“And while we’re at it,” you continue, voice tightening into a sharp, mocking edge, “why don’t you hand over those earrings too?” You laugh, waving your gun recklessly as you shrug with a faux playfulness. “Actually, what the hell, I think I’ll take that dress—seeing as you’ve gone and gotten it all muddy anyway.” You take a step forward, your gaze narrowing on her trembling hands. “Hell, even that hair ribbon. You always did like rubbing your finery in everyone’s face, Elsbeth. Let’s see how you like losing it.”

She stares at you, disbelief flickering in her wide eyes, her hands frozen in hesitation. “You can’t be serious,” she whispers.

“Oh, I’m dead,” you pull back the hammer of your gun with a slow, menacing click. The sound hangs in the air like a threat. Your eyes narrow, and a dangerous smile tugs at your lips. “Serious.”

She moves hesitantly, every motion weighted with reluctance, disbelief etched across her face. You, the woman she used to torment and cow with a simple look, now dismantling her composure piece by piece. The power shift is palpable, and for the first time in your life, you watch Elsbeth Morton falter.

“Go’n now,” you say, your voice cutting through her trembling silence. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Her husband flinches as she begins to remove her jewelry, her fingers trembling as she unfastens each piece. You hold out your hand, and she hesitates, her face flushed with humiliation as she steps forward to place them carefully in your palm, one by one, like a chastened child.

He glances at you, then at her, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disgust as if the sight of her submitting is too much for him to stomach.

Your eyes narrow on him, your hand tightening slightly around the revolver. The smug smile creeping onto your lips says it all—you’ll deal with him next.

You understand, finally, that you’re no longer the woman shaped by the men in your life. The husband who failed you, the outlaw who abandoned you, the society that tried to break you. People will learn that you aren’t afraid to take what’s yours anymore, because for the first time, you’re carving your own path, and God help anyone who tries to stand in your way.

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Red Dead Redemption 1/2, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

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[hauntedbysmut]

Sylus - The List

Tags: kink exploration, praise, fingering, cunnilingus, fellatio, light bondage, overstim, blindfold, marking, p in v, creampies, aftercare

Inspired by the café interaction when you touch Sylus's dick (pictured below)

Full fic below the cut, or you can take the link.

Part 1

MC: where are you right now?

Sylus: about to walk into my house

MC: there's a little something waiting for you.

Sylus: color me intrigued

Walking through the halls of his home, Sylus runs a hand through his hair. This night has been long and full of dead ends. There's not much that can make him smile in a mood like this, but your texts have him curious.

Standing outside of his bedroom door, he listens at the crack, scarcely breathing to see if he can hear anything inside. Knowing you, anything could be waiting for him behind that door.

He turns the doorknob and pushes the door in, standing in the doorway and scanning the room for clues of your "surprise." The last surprise he found in his room was a screaming plant that acts as an alarm clock. He thoroughly enjoyed putting that in the twins’ room and listening to the outraged shrieks when the plant began its morning wailing.

Seeing no obvious signs of pranking, a single folded piece of paper on his bed catches his attention. He opens it and chuckles as he begins to read. "'Number one, be kissed on every inch of my body,'" he chuckles lowly. "Oh kitten, if I recall, you're meant to read this list to me aloud." He turns his head and glances toward the open door where you lean against the door jamb in a sheer black robe, peeks of a lace bra and panty set just visible through the gossamer fabric.

"Just wanted to make sure that you're well prepared. After all, a hunter is not passive."

"I admire your courage," he purrs, turning to sit on the edge of the bed. He holds the page out to you. "What prompted this bout of writing inspiration?"

You quirk an eyebrow and pad over to him, gently taking the note from his hand. "You mentioned that you've had a rather disappointing day. I wanted to cheer you up."

Slowly, Sylus reaches out and slides his hands around the backs of your knees, dragging his eyes from the soles of your bare feet up your legs to your outfit, pinching the bottom of one edge of your robe and rubbing the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes continue their upward sweep, missing nothing. The silent tension between you builds, and your heart begins to pound in your chest. He's barely touched you and you're practically vibrating with excitement. His eyes finally meet yours as he gently pulls you in to stand between his knees.

"Go on, kitten. I'm listening." His eyes spark as they lock with yours, and a flood of heat rises to your cheeks. A sudden rush of nerves activates and your mouth goes dry. "Don't tell me you've lost your nerve," he teases.

With a shaky breath, you give your head a little shake and straighten your spine. "There you go, sweetie." He gives you a soft squeeze on the back of your knee in encouragement.

"Th-this is my list-" you begin.

"Your list of what, kitten? Tell me."

Another shaky inhale. "A list of things I want you to do to me." He hums quietly and smirks. "And things I want to do to you," you whisper on an exhale. His thumbs lightly swipe across your knees as he gives you a slight nod.

"Go on." His carmine eyes smolder up at you as you glance back down at him. His fingers still distractedly swiping along your legs, traversing your exposed skin. You close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation of his skin on yours. Your pulse pounds beneath your skin, echoing through your body and into your core. Sylus pauses his movements and prompts you again, "Kitten? You were saying?"

You slide your eyes open, focusing on the feeling of the paper in your hand. With slightly trembling hands, you begin to read. "Number one, be kissed on every inch of my body." You take a deep breath, reaching down inside of yourself for your confidence. "Number two, have him mark me. Number three, mark him." You glance up at Sylus. His chest is moving faster, his breaths quickening as you read. Your eyes widen slightly at his obvious response, and you swiftly look back at your page, your voice stronger. "Number four, get on my knees and let him use my mouth." He groans and you allow yourself a brief smirk. "Number five, be blindfolded or handcuffed -" you pause and look him in the eyes and whisper, "or both."

Sylus's gaze burns into yours. It feels as if he's touching you with his intent. It's then that you notice his hands are completely still, frozen on your legs. Breaths heavy, the tension sits like a bow stretched taut between the two of you. Each waiting for the other to speak. Finally, when it seems as if the tension is so great that the room is going to implode, Sylus speaks. "Do you have a safe word in mind?"

Your heart, which had already taken up a furious beat, pounds even faster, and you push your thighs together tighter, trying to create friction to ease the ache that has taken up residence between your legs. Sylus's hands flex against you, still holding your knees, no doubt noticing the shift. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking back up at you. You nod. "Use your words, kitten. I don't know how much more patience I have in me at the moment." His voice has deepened into an almost growl in his need.

"Crow," you say. "That's my word." Sylus gives you a little smile before his face becomes serious again.

"Say it," he whispers. "Say you want this - want me."

Your heart clenches with his request and you drop the page and place both of your hands on either side of his face, stepping as close as you can be to him while he sits below you. Looking directly into his eyes once more, you promise, "I will always want you, Sylus." His eyes flash with emotion and then he's hauling you into his lap, his lips against your collarbone as you straddle his legs. Your hands tangle in his hair as your head falls back, letting him kiss and suck along your throat. "Sy-" you moan. He nips at your ear lobe, pulling your face down to meet his lips with yours. There's nothing slow or soft about this kiss. Sylus devours you wholly and you can do nothing but give yourself over to the passion, grinding down against him as your nails scrape against his scalp. His groans spur you on further, and his hands begin to roam freely across your body, pushing your robe apart. For a moment, the clash of tongues and lips pauses as you both focus on removing as many articles of clothing as you can from each other.

Sylus tears the robe from your shoulders as your fingers clumsily push his shirt buttons through their holes. As the robe is pushed from your shoulders, Sylus briefly holds your arms hostage behind you, pressing your shoulders back and forcing your chest out. His lips latch onto the swell of your breast and he bites the soft skin there, leaving a light red mark. He bends back and looks up at you, "Number two." You whine and push against him, feeling the wetness of your panties as a breeze moves between you. You pull against your restrained arms and push your chest further into his mouth.

"Sylus, please."

His mouth latches back onto you, sucking harder until a dark red mark is left behind. "So beautiful with my mark," he murmurs.

He releases his hold on your robe and you slide your arms free, pushing your fingers into his half-unbuttoned shirt and forcing it outward over his shoulders until buttons start popping off. Sylus's dark chuckle fills your ears as he breathes against your neck, "So hasty, kitten."

You growl and nip his neck. "Want to feel your skin on mine."

Once his shirt is off, you lean away and push him back until he's laying on the mattress. His dark eyes follow your movement as you lean in, tracing lightly over his stomach, exploring each indentation of his abs before you let your tongue swipe lightly across a nipple. His hands grip your hips, digging in as you continue to lathe his chest in licks and kisses. "Mine..." you murmur against his skin.

Sylus brings a hand up to the back of your head and pulls your hair gently until you're looking back up at him. His eyes are blazing. "What did you just say?" You pull against his hold, wanting to go back to his chest, but he tightens his grip. His eyes search yours. "You know what I want to hear, sweetie," he says softly. He pulls against your scalp lightly again. "Say it."

"I said... you're mine."

His eyes search yours for a moment, and then he pounces. Sitting up abruptly, he pulls your head in and busies himself with removing your bra, tongue caressing and stroking against yours as his passions overflow through you. Once your bra is free, his mouth travels along your jaw and back down your neck. He bites into your shoulder and releases your hair, planting a hand on your spine and the other palming your right breast. "I'm yours and you're mine," he snarls into your ear. His mouth is like fire as it trails along your collarbone, moving to your nipple and sucking hard.

Suddenly, he pushes you backwards off of his lap. "On your knees, kitten." He smirks at you as you immediately drop to your knees. "So eager? Then show me number four." He leans back on his hands, the picture of elegant repose. With hasty fingers, you begin to pull at his belt, undoing the buttons of his pants and pushing against his hips, which he lifts for you to pull both pants and boxers off in one go. You fling them away from you and push in between his legs, his length engorged and pulsing beneath your gaze. You look up at him as you lower your mouth toward him, and his eyes follow your tongue's every movement as you wet your lips and drag it across the crown of his dick, catching the bead of precum leaking from his swollen head. One of his hands reaches out and strokes along your cheek. "That's it, kitten." He moans as your tongue continues to explore him, tracing the prominent veins on his shaft, your right hand trailing along his adonis belt while your left holds him in place. Pushing down further, you take him fully into your mouth, pulsing along his length and taking him as deeply as you can. His moans and groans are music to your ears as his hands reach to help keep your hair away from your face. You look up at him occasionally to see his eyes on you, slitted and fighting to stay open as you lathe pleasure upon him. "Fuuuuccckkkkk, sweetie."

He sits up, pushing his hips up and his dick further into your throat. you gag briefly and he moans, gathering your hair into a loose ponytail at the back of your head. "Where do you want it?" His breaths are sharp, punctuated by the slight thrusts of his hips as he chases his orgasm. "Tap once for yes," he orders. "Tits?" your fingers clench on his thigh, but don't tap. "Face?" No tap. He exhales slowly, his face straining as he pushes the words out, "Does my dirty kitten want me down her throat?" A quick tap and he drops his head back and groans deeply. His scarlet eyes refocus on you as he brings his head back upright, and his hands slide gently to the sides of your head, still holding your hair back from your face. "Two taps if you need out, love," and then he's thrusting into your mouth, pushing into your throat, holding your head gently as he unleashes himself on you. Tears prick at your eyes with his fervor, but you hold on, determined to ride him out. With several final, brutal thrusts, he pushes in as far as he can and the warm burst of his seed covers your tongue. You swallow him down greedily. His thumb strokes across your cheek as you pull back, a soft pop emitting from your mouth as you release him. "Such a good girl," he purrs, pulling you up to your feet. You smile blearily at him and he gently wipes the tears from the corners of your eyes.

His lips quirk, and that is your only warning before you're suddenly on your back, Sylus above you. "Allow me to repay the favor," he grits out, pushing his lips against your neck. His lips and tongue make their way down and across your chest, laving each nipple before they are each pinched lightly between his fingertips. He continues to make his way downward, giving every inch he moves over licks and nips before reaching the edge of your panties.

Sylus breathes deeply, his nose brushing your lower belly as his eyes close in bliss. "Like the sweetest ambrosia," he whispers.

"Sylus, please," you whimper, squirming beneath him. His lips mouth against the line of your panties, fingers stroking along your inner thighs, just below where your need is heaviest. You push your hips up toward him and say again, "please..."

"Use your words, sweetie." He punctuates his words with a long, slow lick from the top of your panties to your belly button, his eyes sparking with desire as he watches your responses. You prop yourself up on your elbows, whining as he makes no move to continue lower. "Tell me what you want," he demands, licking again in the same spot and blowing lightly, causing gooseflesh to prickle your skin.

"I want your mouth," you grind out.

Sylus chuckles, "Want it where?" His teasing tone and tertiary lick have you drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. You reach for his head and try to push it where you want it, but he resists.

You growl in frustration. "Fuck me with your tongue, Sylus," you snarl.

He chuckles again. "That's my girl," he praises, and rewards you with a long lick against your covered mound. He groans deeply. "Drenched for me, aren't you?" Your answering moan gives him all the encouragement he needs. He licks you again and again, your soaked panties sticking to your lower lips.

"Sylus, inside, please," you beg. A finger hooks into the side of your panties, pulling them to the side and he slides another finger between your folds, gathering up some of the slick leaking from your sopping hole and feeding it directly into his mouth. You watch him with hooded eyes, breathing hard. He winks at you and leans back down, flicking your clit with a single lick. With that single motion, you are lost.

Sylus circles your clit with single-minded focus, pushing a finger inside of you and pressing against the fleshy patch at the top front of your pussy walls. He slips another finger inside, and your voice rises in pitch as he forces pleasure from your body. He watches your reactions and adjusts to spiral you higher and higher. Just when you're about to reach your peak, he pulls back, stilling his fingers inside of you. "Sylus?" He hums, acknowledging your question but not giving you an answer. He pulls his fingers out, licks them clean, and slides your panties off completely, but makes no move to leave his post between your thighs. You can feel your body relaxing again, coming back down, and you watch as he seems to wait for something. Without warning, he pushes two fingers back inside of you and presses the heel of his hand against your clit, leaving him free to watch your face as he brings you to the apex of your orgasm again. Again, he stops just before you reach your pleasure, and you cry out in frustration. "Sylus!"

He gives you a sensual smile, "You want to come, don't you, kitten?"

You nod vigorously. "Yes, please, Sylus, I want to come," you plead. "You're so beautiful when you're this needy.” His eyes take in each of your shaking muscles as your body's tension betrays you. His ruby eyes slide back to catch yours. “Don't worry, love, I'll give you what you want."

This time, as his tongue and fingers work you up again, the pleasure feels brutal, as if it is firing off every nerve ending at once. You don't even know what sounds you're making anymore, but Sylus's sounds of encouragement drive you higher and higher until it feels as if you're strung so tight you'll break in two. When your orgasm crashes through you, your vision blacks out and you can distantly hear yourself screaming his name. As consciousness returns to your senses, you feel Sylus kissing your hips and up your stomach, murmuring praises of how well you did and what a perfect little toy you are for him. Your lips pull up into a lazy smile, and a deep satisfaction thrums through you.

Sylus strokes your face gently with the backs of his fingers. "I'm not done with you yet, sweetie. I need you to tell me if you can still go on. A simple yes will suffice."

You nuzzle into his fingers and kiss them, reaching for his face to pull him in. "Yes," you agree, kissing him deeply. He moans into your mouth as you kiss languidly, some of the earlier urgency sated. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as one of his hands rubs his cock through your slick pussy lips. You both look down to watch as he pushes the fat head into you, slowly inching inside of you. Your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging in, and the two of you groan in unison as the last couple of inches sink fully inside of your body. He presses his forehead to yours, pulling back until just the tip remains before lightly thrusting back in all the way.

"So lucky," he whispers against your lips. "So lucky to find you again." You don't understand what he means, but the pleasure of his body with yours is a language you can understand.

Your bodies speak with perfect understanding. Incoherent words and praises fall from his lips, but it is as if your soul can hear them anyway. Your lips clash together and break apart again and again, languid strokes turning sharp and demanding. As the pleasure builds inside of you, his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining as your bodies and souls meld together. Sweat drips from his forehead to yours, and the salty taste of his skin permeates your senses as your lips and teeth meet his shoulder, leaving marks of your own on his skin. "C-coming," he groans, fingers finding your clit to push you over with him. You cry out and scrape your nails against his skin, no doubt leaving bloody trails where they travel. "Fuck!" Sylus thrusts a few more times, and as you feel your own wave of pleasure crash down around you, his shout of bliss twines with yours and you ride it out together.

Panting and sweaty, his head rests in the crook of your neck, tongue reaching out to swipe up your unique flavor as he hums in satisfaction. You lay boneless beneath him, hands still clasped together. You turn your head and kiss his forehead gently, letting your lips rest against his skin as both of you slowly come back to the world.

"I love you," you whisper, and you can feel his lips curve into a smile against your throat.

"What I feel for you is stronger than love, kitten," he replies, and you smile to yourself.

"Would you say your day has improved?" you wonder aloud.

He chuckles and pulls his head back to meet your eyes with his. "It's leaning that way." He presses his hips further into yours, reminding you that the two of you are still very intimately connected. He kisses you and you can feel his seed slipping out of you as his body shifts. You smile up at him and see the love you have for him reflected back at you in his gorgeous red eyes. His hair is disheveled, plastered to his forehead in some places from his efforts. You smooth it back away from his face and he turns to kiss your palm.

"It was a very bad day," he teases, thrusting against you. You can feel him hardening inside of you again and you shift your hips into his, making him groan quietly.

"I see I'll have to double my efforts," you tease. "Good thing we have all night."

Part 2

Sleep is reluctant to leave you as your groggy eyes peel open. You smack your lips and try to wet your dry tongue. A small pool of drool sits in the cleft between Sylus's pecs as you lift your head in search of water. Briefly disgusted with yourself, you quickly wipe the drool away and wipe your hand on the sheets around you. As you shift above him, Sylus mutters beneath you, his arm, looped loosely around your waist, tightens to keep you in place. You feel sticky and hot everywhere your skin is plastered together. Signs of a good night, I suppose, you chuckle wryly to yourself, noting the soreness in your muscles and between your legs. Unable to shift further, you cross your arms over Sylus's chest and rest your chin on them, looking up at your lover and studying the smooth, angelic face of his sleep riddled form. As you admire the strong lines of his jaw and the markings along his neck and chest from your mouth and nails, the memories of last night begin to replay in your mind.

“I'm so glad I told you to write this list,” Sylus pants as he thrusts into you from below. What started out as him demanding you ride him turned into him using his evol to bind your hands together behind your back and securing a sleeping mask over your eyes. His hands on your hips keep you steady as you push down to meet him over and over again. You've lost track of how many times you've come. Sylus is insatiable when it comes to milking orgasms from your body, and you're powerless to resist him. With a particularly brutal thrust, you drop forward onto his chest, a steady stream of moans falling from your kiss-swollen lips. Without looking, you know that you'll have hickeys across your chest and the insides of your thighs. Sylus is nothing if not thorough in his mission to mark you as his. Unable to hang on with anything other than your legs and with Sylus continuing his assault on your cunt, you mouth at his neck, nipping and sucking the skin in and adding to the growing number of your own marks that you've been cultivating through the night. The brief shine of dawn has begun to light the edges of the room around the night black curtains, but to the two of you in this pocket of shared time, it means nothing.

His fingers find your clit between your bodies and you cry out at the mixture of pleasure and pain that the swollen nub's stimulation brings. “Sylus, I can't!”

“You will,” he growls. “You’re my good girl, and you're going to give me everything I ask for, aren't you?” His whisper is vicious. All you can do is nod and cry against his shoulder. You know you could use your safe word at any point, but the possessive lust-fueled haze you've both been in for the past few hours feels too good to let go of. Sylus would never hurt you, and while his words are aggressive, he has watched you all night to make sure you aren't pushing your body too far. His attentiveness makes you tear up further as he wrings another orgasm from your body before his own staccato thrusts lose rhythm and you feel more of your combined essence leaking from between you. The shaking in your body goes on longer than before. Sylus releases his evol's hold on your wrists and immediately begins peppering your sweaty face with kisses and smoothing your ratted hair back from your eyes. Your body is jelly.

“Love?” he whispers, kissing near your ear. “Are you still with me?” His hands smooth down your back and massage your shoulders, easing the ache from their previously restrained position. You nod weakly against him and he mumbles in a somewhat distressed tone. Gently, he holds your neck and rolls you onto your back and off of his chest. He untangles the hairs looped into the sleep mask and pulls it from your head. Immediately, he gets up and grabs a glass of water from his drink cart. Your heavy eyes blink slowly readjusting to the lights in the room and watching as he fusses. He briefly leaves your sight and distantly, you hear the sound of running water. Sylus returns to your side and, in the same whispered tone, checks in with you, “Can you sit up for me?” Your tired arms move to meet his request, pushing uselessly against the mattress as you attempt to sit up. His hands join you and with some maneuvering, he shifts you to lean against the pillows and headboard. “You need to drink, sweetie.” The cup touches your lips and you open them, gulping down the water greedily as a sudden intense thirst grips your throat. Sylus chuckles indulgently, “Slowly, kitten, slowly.” You empty the glass and feel more human. His hands continue to gently touch your face as his eyes roam your body. The fucked-out expression you wear has pride lighting in his eyes. “I'm going to carry you to the shower.” You groan in dissent and he smiles at you. “None of that, kitten. Just a quick rinse and we'll get you into bed.”

With a bit of sass rising to the surface, you grumble, “I thought that's where I've been all night.” Sylus laughs and you can't help the smile that stretches your cheeks. With a huff, you raise your arms to loop around his neck as he lifts you easily into his arms and pulls your legs around his waist. The soft sound of the falling water in his shower once again registers in your ears and he walks directly into the spray, having already adjusted the temperature for maximum comfort. You rest your head on his shoulder as he uses one hand to keep you in his arms and the other pumps out soap from the dispenser along the wall. In blissful silence, he gently soaps your shoulders and back before probing into the cleft between your legs. He pulls your legs from around his waist and sets them on the floor, still holding you tightly to keep you upright. As he soaps the front of your body, he kneels and softly cleanses your inner thighs, tenderly washing your intimate parts that are still highly sensitive. As he kneels, you rest your hands on his shoulders and watch him, love and joy swelling in your heart at the care he takes with you. He looks up at you and smiles, a single quirk of his lips that has your heart skipping a beat. Rising to his feet again, he quickly washes himself before rinsing both of you off. Stepping from the shower, he pulls two towels from the towel warmer he keeps in his bathroom, a luxury you were all too happy to take advantage of each time you visited, and wrapped you up in it, patting your skin dry as you curled against him.

The silence between you was warm and comfortable, and as soon as you were both dried, your eyes fighting to stay open, you were cradled in his arms, carried to his bed and laid gently amongst the sheets. Sylus turned all of the remaining lights off before quickly sliding in next to you, pulling you back on top of him and rearranging you as he liked until the steady thrum of his heart beat beneath your ear and you could fight off the sleep no longer. In your final moments of consciousness, you heard the contented sigh that Sylus breathed as his lips pressed against the top of your head.

The memories subsided as Sylus's even breathing and peaceful countenance reminded you of your present. Scooching up his body as much as you were able, you reached out and brushed his hair away from his eyes, gently tracing his cheekbones with your fingertips as you admired him. He grumbled at your touches and without opening his eyes, one of his hands reached up to grab yours, pulling it to his lips and kissing your knuckles. “Mmm, good morning, kitten,” his sleep roughened voice filled your ears. He pulled your open palm back to his cheek and nuzzled against it, pulling you in as he did until your face was just above his.

“Good morning, Sylus,” you replied, voice soft. With little warning, his hands framed your face and he pulled it into his shoulder, nuzzling against your neck and licking the shell of your ear.

“Mmmmm,” he hummed in content. “You smell like me.” His face pressed fully into your throat as a grin split your face and a giggle escaped your lips.

“Are you hungry?” you teased.

You felt his answering grin just before gravity shifted and your back pressed into the cold sheets. You arched into him with the sudden cold. He groaned. “I'm always hungry, love,” he chuckled darkly, nose tickling as it skimmed your neck. You hummed and let your head fall back, loving the sleep-heavy weight of him on top of you.

Feeling his interest beginning to rise, you pressed your hands against his chest and tutted, “Hold on, big boy. Before we go again, I need actual food.” Sylus nipped your shoulder in response but lifted his body off of yours and smiled down at you.

“We can't have you starving to death now, can we, sweetie?” He leaned in and kissed you softly on the lips, lingering and kissing you several more times before groaning loudly and pushing himself up to the edge of the bed. You admired the lines you had left on his back and shoulders as he got up and pulled a pair of boxers onto his legs. He grabbed one of his shirts from the closet and came back, holding out his hand for you. “Let's go. Before I change my mind.” His hungry smile had you jumping up from the bed and slipping into the shirt he offered, taking a deep breath of his smell before taking his hand and leading him toward the kitchen.

“Don't worry, Sylus. We have our whole lives ahead of us. You can ‘feast’ any time you want,” you winked and smiled at him over your shoulder. His soft answering smile melted your heart and as you skipped into the kitchen where the twins were holding their heads and grumbling about “noisy couples” over their cups of coffee, your soul had never felt so full.

[oceandelreysworld]

Loving injuries pt.2

So so sorry ts look so long to make pt 2, but here it is!

_______________________________________

"Okay, just be gentle..?" You look at her with puppy eyes, not realizing what you were doing.

"Of course, princess, always." All Vi could think about is pulling your face close to hers to kiss you...

The eye contact between the two of you stayed like that for a moment. Vi is still holding your hand. You could feel the heating tension before Vi shook her head, focusing on what she needed to do again.

As Vi grabs the alcohol back up, she lets go of your hand to grab a cotton ball. You both felt that warmth turn into coldness.

You were a little disappointed, bringing you back to reality on what she was about to do.

She poors a small portion of the alcohol on the cotton, slowly coming closer to your side.

"You ready, pretty girl?"

You froze up but nodded your head hesitantly.

She placed her other hand back in yours, comforting you with the familiar warmth returning.

She was almost touching your skin, with you winceing your muscles in your face-

The door slamed open.

You both flinched at the loudness.

"Vi, stop!" Ekko yelled, dropping the pillows on the ground.

"What? What!" She froze in a panic.

"You can't just put alcohol on it open and infected! You need to clean it first dumbass!" Ekko argued with his hands moving in the air.

Your eyes are just wide at surprise with the level Ekkos voice was. He was a little scary when he's loud. He must have seen your emotions written on your face. He walks over to you, glaring at Vi, then turning his attention back at you.

"Damn it, I'm sorry, y/n. I didn't mean to scare you. I know that would've hurt like a bitch if I didn't say something though. I'm sorry."

"No... it's fine. I just wasn't expecting it. Or the door slamming." Eyes looking down at your hands, fiddling with your nails.

He looks at you with those eyes. Eyes you haven't seen in a really long time.

Ekko forgot how startled you got from loud noises. It was a whole thing when you were younger. The kids' Vi's age would make fun of you even though u were only a few years apart. Ekko and Powder were always there to calm you down, while Vi would yell or hit the other kids for making fun of you. When you would hear loud noises, you would go into a panic like state.

And you seemed to forget how bad Ekko and Vi got being protective of you. Reason on why they're acting the way they are now.

"Vi.. just let me handle her. Go help the others set up dinner." He sighed, closing his eyes to try and stay calm.

"Wha- Ekko, I was only trying to help!" Vi stands up from the seat, her body language defensive.

"Vi-"

"Vi." You interrupted ekko with a stearn voice, softened it up with a light sigh.

They stop bickering and turn their attention twords you.

"I dont wanna see you guys arguing about me. Please. We just got here."

Vi looks at little disappointed while Ekko has a smirk on his face.

"Hey. Stop it. She didn't know. Just because I told her to stop doesn't mean you get to act like you weren't part of the problem."

The silence in the room was so thick that you could legitimately cut it with a blade.

Both of their heads were looking twords the ground.

Vi opened her mouth and then closed it again for a moment before speaking.

"If you need me, princess, I'll be outside.."

"Thanks Vi. Ekko, when you're done, can you let her know to come back in?"

Vi walked out, shoving the pillows with her foot, moving them out of the way so she didn't step on them. Ekko just nodded his head, then looked back up at you.

"Can you do whatever it is that you and Vi were arguing about now?"

"Yeah yeah...I'm sorry. You know how we are.. especially when it comes to you.."

"I know...let's just get this over with please."

-------------------------------------------------------

Vi walks back into the room after helping set up dinner to see you sleeping, and Ekko sitting next to your bed knocked out in a chair.

As she walks up to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, little man, I'll watch her for a little while. Go get some actual sleep."

He mumbled under his breath after opening his eyes all they way. "Fine. Just don't bother her too much."

"Yeah I know. "

He gets up after that, looking back at you, then walks out. Slaming the door a little to where Vi flinches.

You groan, moving over closer to the wall. Vi takes this chance to slowly and quietly lay down next to you. She covers you up with the blanket.

"Hmm? Vi?" You say in a groggy tone, still with your back turned to her. You slowly move to turn over, but with the slightest movement you wince.

"Hey hey, yeah, it's me, princess. It's me. Don't move, you'll hurt yourself mo- Hey wait- y/n I said don't move."

You turn over so you're facing her, ignoring what she just said. You don't say anything, neither does she, but you both feel the tension between you too. Body's so close you can feel the warmth of hers on your skin.

"You're as stubborn as you used to be, you know that y/n?" You can hear the smile on her face when she says that laughing.

You stare at your hands between you two. She sees you fiddling with them, so she grabbed both of your hands with hers and intertwined them. You instantly turn pink. You think it's embarrassing, but Vi on the other hand, finds it so lovable. Finds you lovable.

"You don't need to be nervous or embarrassed. There's no one else here. Just you and me. Just us." You can feel her looking at you when she's talking, but you're not bold enough to look back. She releases one of the hands she was holding to cup your face and tilt your head up to look at her.

"Just us y/n." Her face slowly inches closer as her eyes move from yours to your lips. Your breaths fasten, and you can feel your heart beat through your entire body. Your breathing starts to get heavier.

"Shhh, princess, it's okay. Shh, it's alright." She moves her hand from your face to your heart and moves your hand to hers.

"Breathe with me, okay? You can feel my heartbeat, yeah? Good, baby, good. Breathe how I am. Just take a few deep breaths." She nods her head as you start to breathe, nodding with her.

You stare at her as your face softens. Your breathing starts to calm down now that you can feel her heartbeat. It's so soothing to you. So nostalgic.

"There you go baby, see? All better." She says, smiling but slowly droping it as you both stare into eachothers eyes.

This time, it's you leaning in, moving your hand to her cheek, then to the back of her neck pulling her in for a kiss.

You feel the whole world pause. Like it's just you and her in that moment. Slowly and loving. She moves her hands, one wrapping around your waist, pulling even you in closer than you had been before.

You panic a bit before she leans in, your eyes flickering back and forth between hers and then down to her lips.

When she kisses you, your eyes start to flutter shut as she rubs her thumb on your waist. The feeling of her hand on your waist makes your whole body tingle with heat.

You gasp when she pulls you to her where your chests are touching. The only thing keeping you apart is the clothing.

She slips her tongue in, causing you to whine, and the feeling of her hand moving from your waist to your lower back makes you moan, goosebumps running all over your body.

Her kiss distracted you from the pain. The way her mouth moved with yours. The way her hands explored your body, slowly moving up your back, getting under your shirt. Her hands where so warm compared to your cold back.

She pulled away from the kiss, making you whimper from the loss of her lips on yours. You move your face closer to hers, trying to kiss her again.

Vi's lips ghosted gently on yours, her thumb and your bottom lip, and her forehead on yours.

"I dont wanna go too fast, baby. If we keep moving like this, I dont know if I'll be able to hold back...I don't wanna hurt you." She said, looking down at your lips, her voice whispering as her thumb rubs your bottom lip.

You look at her with puppy eyes as she talks slowly. You respond with a slow nod.

"You know.. I've wanted you to do that since forever." You chuckle.

She looks you in the eyes and just smiles. She moves her thumb to rub the side of your cheek. You get flustered again, but don't look away this time. You bit your bottom lip, trying to hide the big smile on your face.

She chuckles and pulls your face back in for a kiss. Being as gentle with you as she can be. Slowly kissing you, moving her lips from your to your forehead.

"Baby, you got two choices. You can sleep for the rest of the day, or I can go get you some food, bring it up here, sit up her, and eat with you. Hmm? Which one sounds better?" She says, whispering against your head.

"Both" you both laugh lightly.

"Okay, we can do that."

There's a comfortable moment of silence. You close your eyes and nuzzle your head into her neck as she chuckles.

"Hey, y/n?"

You mumbled a yes into the crook of her neck, causing her to laugh at the tickle of your voice.

"I never told you but...I- i love you."

You could feel the speed of her heartbeat and her breath pacing. You lay your hand on her heart, slowly moving your thumb in circles. You kiss her neck at the same time. You can feel her body relaxing more as you do.

"You didn't need to tell me...I've always known. I love you too Vi. Always have, always will." You smile as you can feel her hand move to the back of your head gently rubbing your hair.

She can't get enough of you. Her heart fluttered when you said you loved her. She's been waiting for you to say those words.

___________________________________________a/n: i am so so sorry ts took 4ever. Also if I slept anything wrong please tell me. I'm dislexic so I might make a few slip ups. I hope you guys liked ts😭🙏🏼💗

Tag list:

@maruiin @armyswag93 @maddiethegoodwitch

Ps:There was sb else that wanted to be tagged, but I couldn't find there tag😭

[fairyspheres]

i saw that dragon age veilguard hasn't sold well (in the official statement, they specifically said that 1.5 million copies had 'reached players' so it must have sold even worse than that which. yikes) and while i'm quite gutted about that, ea and bioware also only have themselves to blame for it.

they let ten entire years pass between inquisition - a game that, for the most part, dragon age fans generally really like, at least for the lore - and veilguard. in those years, we saw them make andromeda, anthem, and heard reports of them trying to make the-then new dragon age game live service. thankfully we didn't get a live service dragon age game in the end, but a lot of the original writers were dropped, and i think that shows with the quality of the writing in veilguard.

i've never played dragon age for the gameplay, in any of the games. i despise the gameplay in origins - it's clunky and horrible and the deep roads makes me want to let the darkspawn win. but i love the story, which is why i endure the deep roads and the fade. the same in da2, which is probably my favourite of the entire series, even with the repeating dungeons (actually i love the repeating dungeons. i like knowing where things are), and the same in inquisition with the companions who feel like real people (cassandra pentaghast my beloved).

veilguard... the cuts show in the writing quality. the best character was emmrich (and assan and manfred) and from what i've heard he also had the best romance. which is another thing that suffered greatly - the romances (other than emmrich's). in a game series known for its romances, to the point where bioware was marketing the game as the most romantic as the series, how have they managed to mess it up that badly? cullen and solas' romances were late game additions in inquisition, and they're some of the best in the entire series, so it can't be an issue of time constraints.

rook's dialogue choices were essentially just different flavours of pleasant. do you want to be cheerful, lesser purple-hawke, or stoic? there's no real choice to be had throughout most of the game. even the choice between minrathous and treviso has little impact beyond what merchants might be available and a couple of later game choices. compared to earlier games, where you could let an entire village be overrun by corpses, or let fenris be taken back by danarius, the lack of choice is rather stark in comparison. the only real choices come at the very end of the game.

AND speaking of choices - the entire series has been about how all our previous choices have always mattered, about how we can always carry them over and use them to influence the world. so it was very much a slap in the face when not only could we not use the dragon age keep or import any choice beyond who we romanced in inquisition and what we wanted to do with solas, but the fact that by the end of veilguard, everything we did from origins to inquisition was all for nothing. bioware's choice to do that to varric was a kick in the teeth to long-term fans. oh, we got a little reference to the hero of ferelden in weisshaupt, how nice. pity they didn't tell us whether they're still alive or not. a shame we don't know hawke's fate.

so no, i'm not surprised that the game did so poorly in sales. i'm disappointed, but i'm not surprised because as i said, it's their own fault. i said back in november that they might not have another chance to make things right, and i hate that i might've been right about that.

this turned into an unintentional rant about all my grievances with the game.

[usagiarchive]

angel of the codeine scene — [05] mist flower corolla

prev / masterlist / next

"I feel sick, and I know that I'll lose, but it's not living, if it's not with you,"

sypnosis. [ 1.6k words. angst + fluff at the end. ] — a confrontation, a consultation, and a confession.

usagi's note: hi! so the last few weeks have been sooo long, i took my college exams then had to attend multiple classes and events, it's been tiring, but hey here's an update ^^

His words are forgotten the moment you see him fall on his knees.

Despite Paimon’s protests, you skid down the hill as fast as you can. From the distance, you can see that the traveller doesn't know what to do, she sets Xiao down on a boulder and leaves to finish the job.

When you reach him, his eyes are bloodshot, he's having trouble breathing, and there's black gel-like substances streaking from his mouth.

“Xiansheng, are you alright?”

Weakly, he turns to you, then calls the traveller's name.

“Lumine,”

She turns to him as she finishes the last of the hillichurls.

“Get her away from me.”

A series of “what”s resounded, a surprised one from the traveller and her companion, and a hurt one from you.

“... Can't… handle it, her… body, call for … -ngli…” he heaves.

“What? Xiansheng- no!” you yell in confusion as she seemed to understand whatever it was he said and grabbed a hold of your arm to get you somewhere safe.

“It's his karmic debt,” she explains, “It's not safe for humans-”

“I know what karmic debt is,” you try to get out of her hold, “I'm not human!”

You successfully pry her hands off of you and run back to Xiao, his breathing has diminished even more.

“Get… -way… me,” he says weakly and you can't focus on how you feel that sinking feeling in your stomach again, not right now.

Please, please, let this work, you pray as you take a hold of Xiao’s body and close your eyes. The traveller had tried to yank you back but stopped in awe.

A bright light emitted from you and the wind began to swirl. She couldn't pry your hold off of Xiao even if she tried, it was like your hold had welded with him.

If anything, she was more in awe as she watched the light from you travel through Xiao's body, making it seem like it was travelling under both your skins, through your veins, from you to him.

Xiao squinted at the brightness but the traveller could see the color in his face come back.

When your light faded, you collapsed onto Xiao who had caught you. It was as if nothing had happened to him, he could breathe properly now and he didn't feel like throwing up.

He calls your name and shakes you.

Once.

Twice.

You weren't responding.

Xiao pulls you away from him and you still aren't responding. In a panic, he calls for Rex Lapis, an emergency summons.

The Archon reveals himself in no less than three seconds. The moment he lays eyes on you unconscious in the Yaksha’s arms, he takes you from him.

Xiao doesn’t know what to say and he just looks at his God with a helpless and shocked look as he stares back with… disappointment…

He swallows.

“Come, Alatus, we have much to talk about,”

…

Shame is the only thing Xiao feels as he enters Rex Lapis’ teapot. He looks at your unconscious body in his God’s arms and he feels shame.

He doesn't know what happened, he tried to protect you from his karmic debt, but he really doesn't know what happened.

Morax lays your body to rest beside him as he rests your head on his lap.

“Take a seat, Alatus,”

He takes a seat facing his God, “Is she… going to be alright?” he asks, tentatively.

Morax nods, “Her body just couldn’t handle the process of healing you, it’s… new to her you see,”

He nods slowly, eyes still on you.

“Did you know she was made specifically for you?”

“My lord?”

He sighs, “She was created for you, her purpose is to alleviate your pain,” he looks at him and a beat passes in silence, “Your karmic debt.”

“I hadn’t meant to keep it from you…”

“No, I understand,” he tells him, “But you mustn’t underestimate me, either,”

“I apologize, Morax,”

“No need for that, just take care of those I give you,” he says and pets your head.

“She was made for you,” he repeats, “But her support does not come easily,”

Xiao tilts his head and he continues.

“Even an Archon has limits,” he admits, “there must be balance to the universe,”

“A give and take,” Xiao fills in.

Morax smiles sadly as he looks down at your unconscious form, “I made her in the likeness of Guizhong, she provided me a reprieve from the expectations on my shoulders during the war,”

“A solace, if you will,” the hand over your head then glows bright yellow and orange, a manifestation of the Archon's powers, “But that solace did not come easy, Guizhong had me earn her trust,”

The light fades out and the color comes back to your face, yet you still lie unconscious.

“She only needs rest, worry not,” his Lord assures him.

“My point, Alatus, is that you have to prove to her that you are someone she can trust, too,”

“Why?”

“Because the war is over, Xiao, there is no need to be tense all the time, people can be trusted once more, and she will not fall like the others,” Morax tells him in such a tender voice, as if he, too, remembers his own time at war.

“You can rest easier at night, warrior of mine, the war is over.”

The war is over.

…

You don't wake for a day.

The moment you do, you find yourself in your room in Wangshu Inn and Morax-shen is the first one that greets you.

“How are you feeling, little adeptus?” he asks as he sets tea in front of you. It was an ironic sight. The healer being taken care of.

“I am fine, Morax-shen,” you say and thank him as you drink from the cup.

“Where is Xiansheng?”

He hums, “Alatus is on a mission right now, you mustn't worry about him,”

“But the contract…?”

“I've made a few adjustments to it, do not worry about him,” he says, whatever those adjustments were, he does not explain.

He drinks from his own cup, “How is your progress with Alatus?”

You purse your lips and think, “Well, xiansheng has been… less receptive to my care, but he's allowed me to treat minor wounds, scratches and the like,”

“I see… and earlier?”

Ah, he was referring to that.

“The first time I've tried,”

The corner of his lips turn, “I am proud of you for taking initiative,” a hand meets your head and ruffles your hair, you smile in pride.

Xiansheng never does that.

“Why not?”

Oh- I said that out loud.

“Um well… xiansheng tends to keep a distance from me,” you confess, your hands curling up the blankets, “At times, it seems that he takes care of me more than I do him, he treats me like I'm… human. I feel useless, like I'm not helping him enough,” you sigh.

“It's normal to feel that way, do not fret,”

Zhongli puts his own cup down.

“Xiao has been… devoid of human contact for a long while, especially after the Cataclysm, he has become somewhat of a recluse,”

“This has changed slightly with the arrival of the traveller,”

“Lumine…”

“Yes, Lumine, she has helped Xiao with his duties in protecting Liyue a while back, she has also helped Xiao in personal matters,”

“Seems they're closer than I thought,”

Zhongli takes note of your reaction to the information and sips on his tea.

“They are, the traveller has helped Xiao become more receptive to human contact,”

“I see…”

“Ah, that aside,” Zhongli says, taking the hint to change the subject when he notices your increasing disinterest and how you look like you're thinking deeper.

“I'll explain the observed effects of your abilities from Baizhu,”

…

It was past midnight when you heard the familiar thump from outside your window.

Still, with all the recent events and the information you've learned from Zhongli, you keep your eyes closed.

You feel, rather than hear, Xiao walk towards you, his hand coming up to your forehead, probably to check if your fever has still kept you.

(According to Zhongli-shen, your fever has been alarmingly concerning when he first held you, it was as if you had a passionate flair while having a pyro vision.

“Had I not encased you in crystal, you might've combusted from the heat you were emanating,” he says.

You then notice the wilted mist flower corollas surrounding the room. All exhausted from their coolness.

“Thankfully, Baizhu-yisheng had been quick enough to send their supplies and provide the appropriate aid,”)

Still, you kept your eyes closed, afraid to face him.

Afraid of what exactly? you ask yourself.

“I am glad you are having a dreamless sleep,” he murmurs in the quiet of the night.

When his hand leaves your head, your eyes open, just enough to catch him sneaking out the window.

“Xiansheng…”

His head turns.

He steps down from the window and walks toward you. Wordlessly, your hand raises and his lower down to meet yours.

His eyes don't leave yours until your thumb circles his knuckles, his eyes look down to your intertwined hands, then back up to you.

His other hand rests on top of your head then slides down to cup the side of your face.

Your eyes are locked on him.

It was so soft you had no idea it happened.

Your eyes fluttered close and you squeezed his hand.

Xiao leaned lower, pressing his lips a bit deeper.

As he pulls away, his forehead rests on yours, your eyes still closed as you sigh against him.

He pulls back a bit and watches your eyes flutter open and meet his immediately.

“Xiansheng…?”

He's quick to pull you into him, his head resting in yours as you slot perfectly into the slope of his neck.

“Don't go where I can't follow,” he murmurs with more emotion than you've ever heard from him, “Don't leave me again,”

You can only nod against his skin, his hand resting on the back of your head to keep you close.

…

Again…?

usagi's note: hey! so i added a note at the start and one at the end, im experimenting with my layouts once again! so yeah! also agalaea has been so pretty im def gonna pull for her and for furina cons ^^

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@usagiarchive 2024. do not repost, translate, or use for AI. reblogs, likes, and comments are very appreciated!!

[milkwaydreams]

I was so excited for The Heart Killers since it was announced. Followed all the steps for the production and couldn't wait for it to release. And I was also 100% sure FirstKhao were gonna have me on chokehold and I would BARELY pay attention to JoongDunk though I always had a crush on Joong (that stupid smile), they never really caught my eyes (only Dunk's need to put his hand in Joong's neck when they kiss and I respect him for that, thank you Dunk).

And then, the series release, first surprise: I get addicted to JoongDunk 😃😃. Couple episodes goes and FirstKhao storyline gets me bored, "WHAT'S HAPPENING?!", I didn't understand anything, I thought I knew what my destiny was gonna be but I was SO WRONG😃😃

AND THEN, ANOTHER TURN:

THAMEPO LANDS RIGHT ON MY FACE😃🤡

I didn't even checked the trailer when it first came I was just "Oh, a new cute BL. And with Lykn, interesting. Well, let's focus on the ones currently watching and maybe I watch this when it's fully released", but William had other plans for me😃

GMMTV releases a lil interview with WilliamEst and I fell in love, had to check. "Highschool Frenemy is ending anyway, I'll have some extra time, I can add them", and my SkyNani obsession was on high so I was really sad with HSF ending.

December 13, 2024 ThamePo releases, 3 days later, me crying under my blankets at 1 AM cause I fell in love TOO EASILY for the "New cute BL" that I wasn't expecting NOTHING.

Now we are 6 episodes in and I'm STILL OBSESSED, I'm literally counting the days till Friday all the time and it's not even for a work break, it's to watch my lil series. Every single episode gets me by the collar SO HARD and gets me giggling and kicking my feet.

The way my mind QUICKLY moved from THK to ThamePo after only ONE ThamePo episode needs to be studied. And I'm NOT a Slowburn kinda girl, but look at me now, the Killers drama that was obviously my first option, lost the attention to the slow SLOOOOOOW BURN cute BL 😃😃🤣🤣🤣

Last time I was still THIS INVESTED in a BL at ep 6-7 was Last Twilight and I got a bit disappointed with the ending so, please ThamePo, don't fail me. I can't take another trauma 😃😃😃🤣🤣🤣

I'm still enjoying THK, though not as much as I thought I would, last couple episodes were kinda "nhee", but let's see how it goes🥰🥰🥰

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine? - Chapter nineteen: "Date night"

Summary: It's Spencer and (Y/N)'s last day at work, but before they can retire and live happily ever after, there is one last psycho they have to catch. 

Warnings: A lot of curses and angst, some funny comebacks and most of all, spoilers of season 15 E6. 

Word count: 12.240

A/N: I never liked Max. I'm not even sorry she wasn't a part of this story. Spencer deserved better than a character written just to give him the hint of a love interest that was never heard of again. 

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

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Spencer’s point of view

And all that happened to us in the last few years led us here. Today is our last working day at the BAU. (Y/N) and I step out of our car and head to the elevator in silence. You think you won’t miss it, but I know I will feel melancholic about all this in a few years. However, we both had enough. We are glad to finally be gone.

Prentiss understood our reasons for leaving the team. However, it hadn’t been an easy conversation. We all shed a few tears when we sat with her in her office and announced our decision.

- “I can’t say I’m shocked”- Emily said and paused for a second to rearrange her thoughts after we delivered the news.- “After everything you two have been through… a part of me knew it was a matter of time. But at the same time, I don’t think I can imagine this place without you two. You are part of this family.”

- “And we will always be. But there is another family, with tiny babies, that needs us now.”- my wife added and wiped the tears from her cheeks.- “This wasn’t an easy decision for us, but we won't change our minds.”

- “I know you won’t. It’s a shame for the team, but I am glad for you two. You deserve a new start.”

- “Thank you, Em.”- I nodded at her words and sighed, relieved.

- “And what’s the plan now?”

- “We were offered full-time positions in Georgetown.”- you could hear the happiness in my reply.- “I’ll be with the Research Department and (Y/N) will be teaching two courses during the next semester.”

- “Wow!”- Prentiss was surprised and the tone in her voice betrayed her.- “Sounds exactly like what you two should be doing.”

- “I’m sorry Em, are you mad at us?”- my wife asked directly.- “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but you said you were happy for us and yet you sound disappointed.”

- “No, no, (Y/N). I’m really happy for you, it’s just that… I have to ask you this.”- of course, she would address the pink elephant in the room.- “Is it all this because of JJ’s confession back in Los Angeles?”

The silence in that room was so awkward and deep, that nothing could break it. I could deny it, of course, but it felt useless. But before I could reply, (Y/N) did.

- “That was the last straw, I’m not gonna lie.”- my wife replied and stared at Emily straight in the eyes, showing her she was telling the truth with no hesitation.- “But we weren’t happy before that… incident. We had considered leaving a few times before, after JJ’s confession it was clear we couldn’t delay our departure any longer.”

I moved my hand and reached hers, holding it on her lap.

- “If that hadn’t happened, we would have left anyway.”- I confirmed.- “This conversation was going to happen, no matter what.”

- “I understand, and I’m sorry.”- Emily whispered.- “I know the last few months haven’t been comfortable to deal for both of you”

- “It’s not your fault.”- I replied.- “And, like (Y/N) said, we are not leaving because of her. It’s… everything. Our time here is done. And now we have to start a new stage for our family. One where we can assure our kids we will be home every night for dinner, and that we won’t miss any important date.”

Emily walked to us as we both stood up. My wife hugged her first, with tears on her face.

- “Just promise you’ll still be around.”- Prentiss asked.

- “You don’t get rid of us, I swear”- (Y/N) replied and chuckled.- “You might not be our boss for much longer, but we are family forever.”

That was a month ago, and today, my wife and I are walking into the bullpen holding hands for one last time.

- “Ok, this is not what I was expecting.”- (Y/N) whispers looking around.- “It’s not like I was waiting for a party or something, but… everything is just so normal.”- and I chuckle at her words.

- “It’s eight in the morning, chipmunk. People have to work.”- I joke and leave my bag on my desk just the minute Emily’s voice calls our name from outside the conference room.

- “Now we are talking”- (Y/N) says and quickly heads to the stairs.- “I’m sure Pen baked us some cupcakes for our last day’s breakfast.”

- “Maybe even a cake”- I tease her. But as soon as we notice Emily’s serious face, we realize something bad is happening. Rossi is there as well, staring at us with an apologetic look.

- “What happened?”- I ask right away and Prentiss turns on the tv.

- “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server”- and just like that, the image of two people tied to a chair, clearly frightened, appeared on the screen. Right in the middle of them, the unsub, showing her face and holding a gun.

- “She is not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”- Rossi adds. My wife crosses her arms on her chest staring at the screen before asking.

- “Any ideas on the victims or unsub?”

- “No. Only the unsub's demand.”- Emily pauses, grabs a case file, and gives it to me. - “That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours.”

I stare at Prentiss and Rossi in shock for a moment. They can’t be serious. It’s our last day.

- “I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions.”- Em announces and my stomach drops at her words.- “This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”

- “What do you mean if we want to play it?”- and that’s when (Y/N) reacts.- “We are leaving today. We don’t have time to play any random game with a serial killer.”

- “We know that, (Y/N). But you have to understand the lives of two innocent are at risk.”- Rossi immediately explains the obvious.- “And when it comes to Cat Adams, her only weakness is the man you call your husband. We need you two to crack this case as fast as possible.”

Dealing with Cat Adams is the last thing I want on my last day as an SSA. And yet, somehow, it makes sense that this happened today. It’s exactly why we are leaving.

- “I can’t believe this.”- (Y/N) whispers as she sits at her desk. I stay by her side and rest my hands on her shoulder. She is right, this is the worst way to finish my seventeen years of active service with the FBI.

- “At least we know it’s our last case.”- I caress her shoulder and my wife pouts in response.- “I know this is not how we thought it would be, but tonight we are going home to start our new life. Don’t forget that.”

- “Reid.”- Alvez walks over and both me and my wife look at him.- “Garcia was catching me up about the case. Who is Cat Adams?”

- “My nemesis.”- (Y/N) says and sighs.- “Another crazy psycho in love with Spencer.”

- “She is not in love with me.”- the way my wife turns to look at me raising an eyebrow in disbelief could be comical in another scenario. - “She is not!”- I add just to make sure I’ve made my point.

- “No? Are you sure? That bitch even tried to convince you she was pregnant with your kid.”

- “What?”- Luke is shocked.- “How did she even try to do that?”

- “Not important right now.”- I reply ‘cos I don’t wanna remember that moment. - “Cat Adams is a psychopath who is used to getting away with what she wants.”

- “And she wants you.”- my wife points at me and makes a pause the second JJ walks over to us along with Prentiss.- “I am so sick and tired of bitches trying to get my man…”

- “She is here.”- Emily announces and asks me to walk with her to the interrogation room to wait for Adams.

I hold my wife’s hand and kiss it sweetly as I look at her and try to make her feel secure and safe. I know how much (Y/N) hates Cat. I am not a fan myself, she kidnapped and tried to kill my mother. But I know my wife feels threatened by her in a way, and I don’t know why. I can not stop it either, I’ve tried. So I want her to understand nothing and no one is more important than her and our kids.

(Y/N) wraps her arms around me and I hold her tight against me.

- “Last day.”- I whisper as I rest my forehead against her and hear her hum.- “I’ll be right back.”

- “Take care.”- I kiss her lips and cut her a short smile before I follow Prentiss.

I know I’m not going to like this.

I wait for Adams in the interrogation room. Prentiss is on the other side of the glass, and I know my wife will be there in a second. I do my best to look relaxed, and only a tad annoyed when Adams is walked into the room, in chains. I am not going to let her know how angry she gets me. I will never give her that pleasure.

She is in a mask, which reminds me of Hannibal Lecter, from The Silence of the Lambs. It seems useless to put that on her. I don’t think she will try to eat me.

Her eyes are on me from the second she steps in until she is seated, and she even smiles for a second, pleased.

The guards leave and we both stay quiet for a moment. I stand there, staring at her, unimpressed. Just annoyed.

- “Classic negotiating technique.”- she says after a few seconds. - “The first one who speaks loses, right?”

I don’t move, hands in my pocket, unthreatened by her presence and actions. I just stand there and tell her what will happen.

- “You arranged the kidnapping of two people and you did it the same way you did it before, through a partner on the outside. But her demand, "release Cat Adams," that will never happen. So, tell me what you want right now before I send you back to prison.”

- “Oh! You don't know, do you?”- she looks surprised like I missed something important.- “I stopped fighting.

- “Fighting what?”- I look at the ceiling and sigh, already tired of the conversation.

- “The United States versus Catherine Adams.”- she announces and stares at me waiting for a reaction. She doesn’t get any.- “I had my lawyer plead guilty to all 73 counts. And request the death penalty.”

- “Oh, you've grown a conscience now? I don't think so.”- if she thinks I’m gonna feel sorry for her, she must be really crazy.

- “I'm bored, ok? Boooored.”- somehow, she looks sincere about it. - “Death has to be more interesting than this. But it is funny, you know, when you’re counting the days left, you really do ask yourself, "What didn't I do?" And the only thing I could come up with was…”- she makes a short pause and sighs, to finally turn and stare at me with a smile. - “You.”

- “You haven't done me?”- I ask calmly and take a few steps closer to the table, hands still in my pocket. - “And you think by kidnapping two people you are gonna get what you want?”

- “Do I ever get what I want with you?”- she stares at me as I just raise an eyebrow and wait for her to answer the question herself.- “Besides, your wife must be at the other side of the glass fighting the urges to kill me, and we don't have a lot of time.”

- “For what?”

- “I would like to go on a date. With you.”

I can say I’m surprised. I didn’t think she was this mental.

- “A date?”- I stare at her in disbelief and she smiles.

- “Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun! And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”

I finally sit in front of her and lean in on the table.

- “Come here.”- I say and lean even more- “Closer.”- she moves and stares into my eyes the entire time, something that might have been incredibly intimidating for me a few years ago. But today, as my last day in the BAU, Cat Adams is not a threat.

- “The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”- I whisper and she just stares at me, smiling, looking from my eyes to my lips as I lean back and keep my annoyed facade.

- “You're gonna let a father and daughter die? I don't think so.”- and just like that, she makes her first mistake.

- “I never said father and daughter. You're already slipping. We'll find them. We always do.”- I stand up, annoyed by the conversation and ready to share my intel with the team.

- “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”- she announces from her chair. I stay still for a second, taking a deep breath before I turn and reply with a serious voice.

- “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.”

I turn around and open the door. Before I close it behind my back, I hear her saying “Nice to see you, too, Spencie.” and it takes everything in me not to slam that door on my way out.

Cat Adams kidnapped a father and a daughter just to go out on a date with me? She has to be crazy if she thinks she can get away with it! She is ruining our last day of work torturing two people just for a pity whim. I hate that woman in ways I could never explain. And to think this was supposed to be the best day for me and my wife.

My poor wife. She must be even angrier than I am.

I walk into an empty interrogation office and take off my tie in a poor attempt to calm the sudden anger that fills my body. I don’t wanna deal with this, I just wanna leave. I don’t wanna be targeted by a psychotic narcissist again. Again! I just wanna make my wife happy, and give her the life she deserves. That we both deserve after all these years. And this bitch comes and ruins everything!

I lose it for a second and smash everything that’s upon a small piece of furniture. Lamps, books, whatever was on it gets trashed against the floor in a second.

- “I was gonna ask if you were ok, but I can see you are not.”- (Y/N) whispers from the door as she stares at me. Anyone else would be shocked to see me act that way. I don’t think anyone has ever seen me lose it physically. She, instead, just opens her arms and takes a few steps closer, as I rest my body against hers and feel her embracing me completely.

- “You don’t have to go out with her.”- she whispers sweetly.

- “I wanna kill her.”- I confess and bury my face in her neck, ashamed of my own anger.

- “Not if I kill her first.”- she replies immediately, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

- “I’m not joking.”

- “We are both carrying guns, hon. And we both have enough motives. I know we are not joking.”- (Y/N) answers and moves her hands until she is holding my face, staring into my eyes with so much love and care, that I could melt. - “That bitch tried to kill your mom and managed to torture us and our family. She won’t get what she wants.”

- “She wants to…”- but she shakes her head before I can finish talking.

- “She wants you. I will never let her have you.”

- “I don’t want her. I just want you. Forever.”- I whisper and kiss her lips as soon as I’m done speaking.

(Y/N)’s point of view

I never really imagined my last day at work could be in the top ten of my worst days at the BAU. But it’s quickly getting to the hot top five. If I didn’t want to deal with JJ anymore, now I have to deal with her and Cat Adams at the same freaking time. I know, I am a grown almost forty-year-old FBI SSA who should act like an adult at this point. But I am tired. Exhausted. I just wanna go home with my husband and raise our kids. Is that too much to ask?

Spencer and I sit at the conference room’s table as the team debates what’s going on. A part of me is still in the car with Spencer, going over the last fifteen years we’ve spent together in the FBI. Reliving the memories and talking about our favorite moments. Not here, discussing what to do with Cat Adams. Of all people, why did it have to be Cat Adams?

- “Victimology's off.”- Spencer says and Prentiss questions him right away.- “Father and daughter. She's never done that before.”

- “Yes, she usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children, even adult children, are off limits.”- Tara adds in support. - “Do we have an I.D. yet?”

- “No.”- Pen replies immediately, and you can read the angst all over her face.- “No one's even reported these two as missing. You'd think a wife, a mom, someone would notice.”

- “What do we know about the partner who was helping her?”- Rossi asks. Yet, none of that is what really bothers me.

- “It's got to be someone from her prison. She hasn't had contact with anyone else.”- Simmons replies.- “We can start with known associates who were recently released.”

- “Ok, can I tell you what's bugging me?”- JJ asks and I don’t bite my tongue in time. I can see everyone’s face changing as I say:

- “The fact an unsub has more chances of going out on a date with Spencer than you do?”

- “(Y/N)!”- Emily widened her eyes, shocked by my words.

- “Sorry, but I already quit. This is just a bonus.”- I reply with an evil grin, enjoying making my ex-friend uncomfortable. She deserves it, no doubt.

- “It’s the fact every time we've gone up against Cat, there's the presenting agenda and the hidden one.”- JJ just keeps talking, ignoring my words.

- “We know that”- I add, in a clearly annoyed tone of voice.- “This woman has always been a few steps ahead. That’s her modus operandi. We have to figure it out before we make any decision.”

- “Well, if she sticks to the pattern, this isn't just about going on a date with Spence.”- JJ looks at me as she speaks, so mad I could laugh. Who the hell does she think she is to even try to look angry at me. She should be glad I haven’t hurt her. Bitch.

- “Right now, she's a fixed variable.”- Prentiss replies.- “We need to focus on identifying the unsub and her victims.”

Spencer and I stand outside the interrogation room as Prentiss talks with Cat one more time. Neither of us says a word for a few minutes, but he still holds my hand tight and keeps me close to him.

- “You shouldn’t be so aggressive with JJ.”- I hear him whisper and I just stare at him, clearly annoyed. I don’t understand why he would say such a thing if he knows that woman triggers me each time she stands too close to him.

- “Right. Why is that?”

- “She is your friend.”- he has to be kidding.

- “She was.”- I correct him quickly- “You know she lost my friendship the day she said she loved you.”

- “I don’t like her that way. Why do you wanna hold a grudge against her?”

- “Because I always knew she had feelings for you. Ever since I started liking you.”- I sigh and turn to him. He looks so tired and defeated by the situation, I don’t think I wanna have this conversation right now. - “Fine, I won’t be a bitch with her until we solve this case.”

- “Thank you…”

- “I’m not happy about this being about Cat either.”

- “It’s not my ideal last case either…”

Our conversation ends because Prentiss walks out of the interrogation room and stares at us, clearly frustrated and most of all, annoyed.

- “So, what does the princess of madness want?”- the words come out filled with bitterness as I stare at my friend. She bites her lips before she tells us:

- “She wants to go ice skating, so she can skate circles around Spence. She is wasting our time.”

- “Bitch is mental.”- I whisper and look at her, alone in that room. In no scenario that psycho can or will go out on a date with my husband. Again…

- “Ok, something weird happened, but it could be a lead.”- Garcia shows up and looks at us in honest concern.- “I just got a bazillion voicemail messages, all from the same address on Fourth Street.”

I drive with Alvez and Lewis to the address Garcia gives us. I need a moment away from Cat Adams because I’m starting to believe she will somehow get away with it today, and she will go out on a date with Spencer. I don’t think I could deal with that.

- “Are you ok back there?”- Luke asks as he parks outside the house.

- “Yeah. I just need a little more coffee.”

- “Sure babe.”- Lewis raises an eyebrow and shakes her head.- “Lying to profilers, are you sure you wanna do that?”

- “Just keep me away from Cat so I leave today without killing any more people.”

- “Yes ma'am.”- Luke got out of the car but Tara stayed a few more minutes with me.

- “Reid, keep your eyes on the goal. It’s your last day on the team, don’t let Cat Adams ruin it for you.”

- “I keep telling myself that, but it’s hard when all she demands is a date with your husband.”- I simply confess ‘cos it’s not like it’s a secret.

- “We are gonna find this family and Cat is gonna go back to her cell, and most importantly, you are gonna go home with Spencer tonight and start the rest of your life together. Nothing will change that, ok? So don’t let any bitch get into your mind. Ok?”

I hold my friend’s hand and nod. Sometimes, all you need is a little empowerment from a friend to kick ass.

The whole street is filled with wanted posters looking for Susan. Yes, like the 80s movie. It’s breadcrumbs and it means to follow Cat’s game, but if we want to find that family, we’ll have to find who that Susan is.

When we get back to the BAU, the team has news: they know who Cat’s sidekick is. It was her old cellmate, Juliette Weaver, freed only six months ago. They had a lot in common, other than sharing cells and being besties, both their dads had killed their mothers. And we all know what trauma bonding does to psychopaths. It encourages them to do even crazier shit.

Matt says Susan is no other than Cat’s mother, and this is when I know she is not playing. We are about to go straight into her trap. But we have nothing else. As always, she is five steps ahead.

- “You are gonna have to go out with her.”- I whisper as I walk with Spencer to the interrogatory room one more time. He just shakes his head and holds my hand.

- “The only date I have tonight is with you and our bed after we solve this case and go home.”

- “She will only make a mistake if she is alone with you. If you go out with her and go fucking ice skating or whatever it is that she wants to do, we’ll get a chance to find that family.”- I hate saying this, but it’s the truth.

- “Chipmunk, I’ll try to talk to her one more time. If this doesn’t work, we’ll find another way.”

- “There’s not enough time.”- I whisper and sigh.- “I just don’t want her to get what she wants.”

- “She would never.”- Spencer stops walking and stares at me.- “I love you.”

- “I love you too.”

His arms wrap around me and keep me close to him for a few seconds. I feel his lips on the top of my head and I just sigh. Is it bad that I just wanna call him mine and only mine? No one can have him. He is my husband, the father of my kids… I am being obsessive and possessive, but can you blame me? Bitches keep falling for him and trying to steal him from me.

Spencer’s point of view

I am tired. Frustrated. Angry. I just wanna get this over with and go home. Instead, I have to talk to Cat Adams one more time.

- “Somehow you did it.”- I walk to her and she just sits by the table, not even looking at me, she just stares at the wall, looking like she is bored out of her mind.

- “You found what I couldn't. You found your father and you must have been furious when you discovered that he started over. Had another daughter. And that is why you deviated from your usual victimology. It wasn't enough to just hurt him. You had to hurt her, too.”

I finish my speech and crouch down by her side. And she just ignores every single word. Until she finally looks at me and asks.

- “When are we going ice skating?”

- “We're not going ice skating. You know, we've been asking ourselves this whole time what your hidden agenda was, but you tipped it when you said that you were gonna win tonight. Even if I let you out of here, you'll still kill them.”

I keep my eyes on her the entire time I talk, but she shows no emotion, no remorse. Nothing. She just stares back at me and pouts.

- “So, no ice skating?”

- “No ice skating.”

As I stand up and walk to the door, she says one more thing. One that gets me in a worse mode ‘cause of course she still has more surprises.

- “You should tell Garcia to check her email.”

Garcia has a video of Cat’s sidekick, Juliette, firing blanks at the father, right in front of his daughter. We all watch it and Emily ends up saying what my wife had suggested a few hours ago. That I should go out on a date with Cat and wait until she trips. ‘Cause apparently she always trips up with me.

- “Absolutely no.”- I stare at Rossi and Prentiss ‘cause I can’t understand why they are suggesting this.- “There is no way I am doing this.”

- “If we give Cat what she wants, we can profile what she says on the date. She always trips up. She always reveals her Achilles heel.”- Emily says as she looks me right in the eyes, trying to convince me.

- “And she always does it with you.”- Rossi adds. I feel my wife holding my hand and I turn to look at her.

- “I told you so.”- she whispers.

- “I don’t want to go.”- I reply in a soft voice.

- “We are gonna be three steps ahead of her this time.”- (Y/N) assures me and cuts me a short smile.- “Or I’ll kill her. Whatever happens first.”

It takes Cat an hour to get ready for our “date.” Meanwhile, I prepare every detail with the team and Emily convinces (Y/N) not to go with us, instead, Luke will tag along.

- “Why do you think I will let my husband go out with a serial killer alone?”- my wife asks, raising an eyebrow.

- “(Y/N), if you go, Cat will be mad and it might probably ruin the entire thing.”- Prentiss replies and tries to calm her down.- “Luke will be there the entire time, and we’ll…”

- “No! Last time she was on a date with him, he ended up being kidnapped.”

- “I was not kidnapped.”- I argue, though she is somehow right.

- “You were kept against your will at gunpoint at a table playing a sick game in a restaurant that had a bomb. How do you call that? Game night?”- (Y/N) looks at me, annoyed. Why is it that I find it sweet that she gets jealous and worried? I can’t tell her that now ‘cause she is clearly angry. But she looks adorable right now. Maybe there’s something wrong with me.

- “Nothing bad will happen, chipmunk.”- I whisper and kiss the tip of her nose.- “I’ll always come back home to you.”

- “She is ready. Let’s go.”- Tara announces from the door, so I take a deep breath and get ready to pick up my date.

We walk to the elevator outside the bullpen. The entire floor is filled with agents and high-security cops. Cat holds my arm as we walk and I just look straight ahead, trying not to acknowledge her. But I know she is smiling, enjoying her moment of triumph.

I can see my wife, arms crossed against her chest, standing along with the rest of the team. I just look at her as I walk past her and try to tell her how much I love her, that I’ll be back soon, and that I love her more than my own life. She looks at me for a moment and then stares at Cat with pure hate. I might need to make it up to her for this whole thing.

Luke and a SWAT team are waiting for us in the elevator. I really don’t wanna do this and I hate the fact there is no other way.

- “Don’t wait up!”- Cat says with a cheeky smile and somehow I know she is staring at my wife, probably ‘cause fire and knives are coming from her eyes as she stares at us. I wish I could tell her how sorry I am to put her through this whole thing. Now the door is closed and I’m on a date with Cat Adams.

In my head, I list all the things I’m gonna do tomorrow on my first day outside the BAU. I’m gonna make my wife breakfast in bed, then I’m gonna take her and the kids out for lunch, maybe we could go to the zoo or to the library.

- “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”- Cat’s voice takes me from my head and forces me back into reality. I’m in the back of a SWAT van with two officials. I try to stay focused on the plan and ignore her completely. Of course, she just keeps talking.

- “What ice skating rink are we going to?”- still no answer.- “Spencie.”

- “Don't call me that.”- I give her a stern look and then look away.

- “God, your parents are so strict.”- she jokes and looks at the officials.

I hate every second of this.

- “This isn't what I wanted.”- Cat’s tantrum starts the second we get off the van and she realizes this is a roller skating rink, not ice skating. As expected.

- “It's the best I could do.”- I reply and place my hands in my pockets. I did, in fact, nothing for this date.

- “It's not what I want.”

- “Skating is skating. What does it matter?”

- “It matters because if I asked to hang out with a bunch of sixth graders, I would have asked to come here, but I didn't, did I?”

- “We put in the request, Cat, and the answer was no.”- I explain once.

- “Why?”

- “Because we can't risk giving you access to a bladed tool.”- I explain twice, and I’m losing my patience.

- “What? I'm gonna use an ice skate to slice your neck open? Grow up”- two guns clock behind her and she doesn't even bother- “Relax.”

- “It's out of my hands. It's either this or nothing.”

- “Then nothing.”- she replies defiantly.

- “Fine.”- I say and shrug.

- “Fine.”

- “Get back in the van.”- I command.

- “I will.”

- “Had something special planned for our anniversary but whatever, forget it.”

I delivered that line as casually as possible, trying to make it sound like I was sorry she was gonna miss my surprise. When my wife said this time we were going to be three steps ahead of her, she wasn’t lying. She realized we had met Cat this month a few years ago, making it technically our anniversary.

- “You remembered?”- and it worked, ‘cause Cat turns to me surprised.

- “Of course, I remembered, but this date is over, so, let's get back in the van.”- I try to help her inside the van, but she is very curious.

- “No, no, no, no. I want to see it. Come on. I want to see it.”

- “Give me something.”- I demand immediately.

- “No.”

- “Yes. Give me something to help find your dad and half-sister.”- I insist, staring at her and trying not to look as annoyed and tired as I am.

- “Twenty-three.”

- “That's nothing. Give me something better.”- I demand, knowing the team is listening.

- “You're smart. You'll figure it out.”- she pauses, not moving from her spot, and then repeats.- “Let's go. I want to see it. Let's go.”

And so, we start walking. I sigh and most nonchalantly, I reach out for her hand, just like my wife suggested. I can't believe she asked me to do this.

- “Hold my hand. It's dark inside.”

- “You know we just had our first fight, right?”- there’s some pride in that sentence. She wants us to act like we are a couple, ‘cause maybe in her head, we already are. I wanna be done with this.

As soon as we step inside, Cat starts complaining again.

- “God, it smells so gross in here. That's why I hate roller rinks.”- but I just ignore her.

- “Luke, can you hear me?”- I say and look up at the DJ booth.

- “Loud and clear.”- he replies in the speaker. The whole room fills with his voice. I’m glad I am not alone.

- “Light it up.”

- “Got it.”

The entire room lights up, some random song I didn’t pick starts playing, and a massive sigh lightens and you can read “Spencie and Cat Forever.”

- “Spencie”- Cat seems to be impressed, even delighted and touched by my gesture. I try not to smile pleased, thinking my wife’s idea is working. I married the most brilliant woman in the world.

- “I'm a size 7 skate.”

This is a bad moment to face the fact I can’t skate. I failed with the skateboard every time Frank and Mikey tried to teach me, but that was probably ‘cause we always tried to do it when we were drunk. And right now, I am failing with the skates. Cat is enjoying her moment, sliding from one corner to the other with elegance and ease. Meanwhile, I am struggling to stand and move forward without smashing my face on the ground.

- “What's up?”- she asks as she shows up next to me- “Can you skate backward?”

- “I can barely skate forward.”- I confess ‘cause you can see the struggle I’m in.

- “Really? Just look up.”- and I do, well, I look up to the ceiling and she chuckles.- “Not that far.”- Cat holds my arm and helps me. This whole thing is ridiculous and I end up chuckling.

- “Someone having fun?”- I don’t reply, but keep smiling ‘cos at some level, this whole thing could be fun. -“I'm having fun. If your stupid chaperone wasn't here, I would ask the DJ to put on some Savage Garden for the guy-girl skate and we could totally make out.”

Cat smiles at me as she helps me skate, holding my arm.

- “You, uh, you realize what I have to do, right?”- I ask because I can’t drag this conversation any longer.

- “Um, let me think. Ask me a bunch of pointed questions and hope that I trip up? Go ahead. Ask away.”

I know I have to play Cat the right way, she knows I want to rescue her father and half-sister, but that won't come from a direct question. So instead, I ask:

- “What happened to your baby?”- and it works.

- “What?”- she definitely didn’t see that question coming, because her eyes and voice are filled with anger and hurt in a second.

- “The last time I saw you, you were pregnant with someone else's baby that you said was mine.”- I simply add trying to be casual.

- “Why are you asking me about that? I don't want to talk about that.”

- “Hormonal changes during pregnancy expand the brain's capacity for empathy. I was actually just trying to see if I could use it against you.”- it’s not the honest reason, but I think it works.

- “Oh, really? What about, um, sex?”

No. My strategy didn’t work. Now she wants to find me unprepared. She moves and crushes her body against me and stares right into my eyes, trying to read the effect she has on me. I hold her in place and stare at her, glad there are no cameras here, just audio to report back to the team.

- “Why don't you use that against me?”

It’s far from a pleasant image if you ask me to be honest. Sex will only seem tempting if it’s with the woman I love, and as much as I try to hide my contempt, I fail. Cat moves away from me and stares at me with pure hate. Then, she slaps me so hard I fall to the floor on these stupid skates.

- “Cat, wait!”

I stand up as fast as I can and start to make the story believable enough to help me through this. I know (Y/N) is listening on the other side of the mic, but this is the only chance I’ve got to finish with this and save that family. And I know she understands.

- “Cat! Cat! Wait! I can explain!”- I follow her to the lockers, where she is taking off her skates, furious.

- “I have spent my entire adult life reading men. I know when they're thinking about someone else.”

- “Yes, I was thinking about my wife, but that doesn't mean…”

- “Do you know what this was for me? I didn't ask for one last family visit. I didn't want one final meal. I wanted this. And you can't even give me the courtesy of your undivided attention before I'm executed.”

Somehow, she was being honest about that. This was all she had asked for, which is sad. But she just had to torture two people to get it.

- “So, thank you very much, but this date is over. You can turn off the stupid lights, boys. Let's get out of here.

- “She's not you.”- it’s the only thing I can come up with. I stand in front of Cat looking defeated and she stares at me, still angry, and trying to find a flaw in my facade.

- “You're lying.”- and she doesn’t believe it, so I have to make sure she swallows every word that comes out of my mouth from now on. It’s time to lie.

- “I'm not lying. I wish I was, but I'm not! There's some part of my brain, some part that you somehow inhabit, and no woman, no matter how good, no matter how kind, no matter how sexy she is, not even my own wife can ever get you out.”- she stares at me and suddenly I wonder if this is exactly what (Y/N) fears the most. Am I hurting her?

- “Do you think about me when you kiss her?”

- “Yes.”- I don’t even think about it, I just answer. She raises an eyebrow with a smirk.- “And if it makes you happy, I’m pretty sure I’ll be in big trouble when I get home after our date.”

- “Does she know everything you do or think?”

- “No, but I try to tell her most things.”- I say those words with the certainty I am not lying.

- “Most things, not all things.”- Cat takes the bait and a part of me feels good lying is useful for once.

- “No…”

- “What doesn’t your wife know that I could know?”

- “Well…”- I glue my eyes to the floor, trying to look as ashamed as possible.

- “Come on. Give me something.”- her voice is annoyed and anxious.

- “I still go to my old apartment.”

- “What?”

- “We were supposed to sell it when we got the house, but I wanna keep it. She doesn't know that I still hang out there sometimes when I tell her I’m running an errand.”

- “Then I want to see your apartment. Now.”

(Y/N)’s point of view

Call me petty, but the fact Spencer is on a date with Cat Adams is driving me more crazy than not being able to find her father and half-sister. Something is off. Adams has to be hiding something. She wants to throw us a curveball at the last minute. But what?

I stare at Emily as the team analyzes every second of the conversation Spencer is having with Cat. My cell phone hums in my pocket and I grab it immediately, thinking it could be my mom. She is with the kids tonight. But instead, it’s Frank.

- “Nugget, I’m sorry.”

- “Hey, what is it?”- I can tell he is stressed ‘cause his voice is shaky and very fast.

- “I just… never thought I could make this call, less on your last day, but I need your help. We do.”

- “What happens, Paco?”

- “It’s Tarah’s dad, Charlie. He has been missing since last night.”- I hold my breath, shocked. His girlfriend’s father is missing. And because I am surprised, I ask the wrong question.

- “What? Are you sure?”

- “Of course I am sure! I would never call you if I weren’t sure!”- my friend snaps right away.

- “Sorry! Sorry! Did you guys fill the report?”- I walk outside the conference room as I talk with my friend.

- “Tarah is just doing that as we speak, but it’s not just that.”

- “What is it?”

- “Lizzy, Mikey’s sister-in-law is missing too. Both of them disappeared last night.”

And somehow, it clicked.

- “I’m gonna need you to send me pictures of them asap. I’ll make sure they get home safe tonight.”

I rush back into the conference room and start shouting information, hyperventilating ‘cause we are wasting time.

- “It’s about Spencer.”- Rossi and Em stare at me, lost. Of course, none of them gets what I’m trying to say ‘cause they are not in my head, so I try to elaborate on my breakthrough.

- “This whole show Cat is doing, it’s about Spencer and me, I’m sure this bitch knows we are leaving the FBI.”

- “What? Why?”- Prentiss doesn’t doubt it, she just needs more proof.

- “Frank’s father inlaw and Mikey’s sister inlaw are missing, they are sending me pictures as we speak, and if I’m right, I’m pretty sure that’s the father and daughter Juliette is torturing.”

- “Fuck.”- Rossi whispers as he shakes his head.

- “Can you get your friends to come over?”- Prentiss asks and I just nod. - “Good, ‘cause we need to be ready for whatever Cat is planning to do now. She won’t get away with this.”

- “Spencer is taking Cat to your old apartment.”- Matt shows up suddenly with the news

- “What? Why?”

- “Apparently, Cat wants to see it…”- my phone rings that second. Mikey’s hyperventilating at the other side of the line.

- “I just got a call from an unknown number, a woman yelled at me to go to your old apartment. It said there was a hidden key underneath the mat. And if I don’t go, she’ll kill Lizzy and Tarah’s dad.”

- “Cat is taking us all there.”- I say and look at Prentiss.- “I’m on my way, Mikey, wait for me there. I’m gonna call Frank.”

Just then, I get a text myself. It says: “If you want to save them, go to your old apartment.” So Cat wants me to be there as well. I wonder why. I show it to Prentiss as we hurry to get into the car and she stares at me, pale.

- “She has never even addressed you.”

- “No. Not really.”- now that I think about it, Cat has always been alone with Spencer. I watch them interact from a safe distance, but I have never spoken to her. This shit will be weird.

I was right. Cat wants us all to meet in our old apartment? Why? I have too many theories about that. We meet Frank and Mikey a block before Spencer’s apartment. In the years I’ve met them, I have never seen them like this. They are… losing it.

It’s hard to work with friends and family. You just never know how to keep your head cold, and how to talk to them without sounding condescending. Not even in my worst nightmare I ever imagined I would be in this situation with my best friends on my last day working for the Bureau. But Cat wanted us to leave like this, so we have to deal with what we got.

- “She is the crazy psycho that almost killed Diana?”- Frank asks but instead of me, Prentiss does the talking.

- “Yes, she is. She is a dangerous criminal, and she just wants to hurt Spencer and (Y/N).”

- “I’m gonna kill her.”- Mikey mumbles as we rush upstairs.

- “No, you have to outsmart her. Let her think she is in charge. She will trip with Spencer.”- I command as I open the front door. We are less than fifteen minutes ahead of Cat and Spencer, but we have to be ready for them.

- “Whatever happens, don’t believe anything she says, but act as if you do.”- Prentiss starts instructing my friends.- “She will lie, she will use you to make Reid’s life a living hell. Try to make her see she is convincing you.”

- “She can’t know you are lying.”- I add, scared my friends are caught in this mess.

- “So it’s like when we got drunk as teenagers and pretended to be sober when we got home?”- Frank somehow jokes in the middle of this nightmare, probably trying to ease the mood. And I just smile at him and nod, as I help wiring him.

- “Hopefully your acting will be better now. You always got caught.”- I smile at him, but tears fill my eyes in a second. I hate getting emotional on the field, but this is my family we are talking about.

- “Hey, hey. No, don’t.”- Frank holds my hands and looks at me.- “Don’t give this bitch what she wants. Don’t cry.”

- “I’m just so sorry.”

- “You are sorry she is a crazy bitch?”- Frank raises an eyebrow as I shake my head.

- “I’m sorry we dragged your families into this madness.”

- “This is what she wants, nugget.”- Mikey kisses my forehead and wipes my tears.- “Don’t let that psycho win.”

- “They are almost here.”- Garcia announces. She checks our mics, and earpieces and kisses my cheek.- “I love you, munchkin. You can do this.”- I just nod and watch her and the rest of the team rush out of our old apartment.

Just now I realize how empty this whole place looks. We left some furniture behind, an old sofa Raven and Vinny had mostly destroyed, and a small table. But it feels so weird without all of our books and mess and child’s screams. Our landline is apparently still on, and a very old telephone sits there, alone. Frank lights a cigarette and I almost ask him to put it off out of instinct. Like the kids were still there.

We say nothing for a few minutes. We just stand there speechless. Mikey whispers a few things, mostly words of encouragement. Until we hear some noises from the hall.

- “This is it.”- I whisper and my friends just nod. Anything could happen. Adams probably has a very structured plan and we need to outsmart her. I am sure she just wants to hurt us. Mentally and even physically.

So of course, as soon as the front door opens, the first thing I see is Spencer kissing Cat as if his life depended on it.

- “What the fuck?”- I mouther as I open my eyes wide and my husband removes his lips from Cat’s, in shock, fear and regret. I can read it all on his face, but it doesn’t mean much at the moment. I don’t even have to force myself to fake the anger. I am burning.

Spencer stares at me for a few seconds, still holding Cat’s face with both hands. As soon as he reacts to what’s happening, he starts walking in my direction, but Frank’s fist stops him. He hits him hard, right on the jaw.

- “Mother fucker!”- Frank hisses and I wrap my arms around him to stop him from resuming the fight. I don’t know if this is pretending or if he is actually mad, but he wants to keep hitting Spencer and I am not letting that happen.

- “I told you what would happen if you ever made her cry!! I warned you!! Now you got us all in this fucking mess! I am gonna kill you!”

Frank’s face is red in anger as he yells. Spencer raises a hand to his jaw and stares at him for a second in disbelief. Then, he looks at me with sorry eyes. He is almost in tears. I remember Cat was just here, but she is nowhere to be seen. Probably the SWAT team took her out. Mikey holds my hand, pulling me away from Frank, and wraps an arm around my shoulder protectively.

- “Chipmunk, this is not what it looks like.”

- “Get them out of here!”- Luke rushes in and my friends raise their hands like they were being at gunpoint.

- “No, we can’t leave. She’ll kill them if we do.”- Mikey explained.

- “Who?”- Spencer asks but keeps looking at me.

- “My sister-in-law and Frank’s father-in-law. She took them.”- as Mikey speaks, Luke stops the few SWAT officials in the room from taking them out. - “Someone called us and told us to come here if we wanted to see them alive again. Our wives are terrified, Reid. We need to get our family back.”

- “This is all my fault.”- Spencer whispers and for once, I don’t comfort him. I don’t open my mouth.

- “Spencer, what the fuck is happening?”- Frank demands to know.- “Tell me before I break your face.”

- “Guys, I’m so sorry. I don’t have enough time to explain. I just wanna apologize for what you saw. It really means nothing, I am just trying to…”

- “No time for that, Spencer.”- I snap and look at Luke.- “Bring her back and leave us alone.”

- “What?”- Alvez stares at us not getting what’s happening. But Spencer agrees.

- “If she brought all of us here, this is what she wanted.”- I add before my husband grabs the landline phone and calls from his cell.

- “You can monitor us from here.”

- “Are you sure?”- Luke asks and I just nod.

- “I’ll keep her safe.”- my husband tries to hold my hand but I don’t let him and he stares at me like a wounded puppy. It hurts to act this way, but if I just saw him kissing another woman. A crazy bitch as a matter of act. And I know it’s not because he wants to do it, he was probably just trying to prove a point. But it still hurts. I have to use this anger to make it all real in front of Cat.

- “Follow my lead. We can outsmart her.”- Spencer says and looks at our friends.- “Trust me, please. Let her goat, she loves to goat. Just don’t show fear, she’ll use it against you.”

- “Who are you talking about?”- Frank asks as Cat walks into our apartment, a sign I never imagined could happen, not in this life or another.

- “Her.”- I point out and cross my arms on my chest. Luke leaves us alone, closing the door behind his back.

Cat fucking Adams wipes her mouth with her hand, remembering my husband’s lips were just there a few minutes ago. I have a gun, I could just kill her.

- “I can’t believe after all this time we haven’t properly met, Mrs. Reid.”- she smiles at me and winks.- “She is cute, Spencie.”

- “We are here. What the hell do we have to talk about?”- my husband barks at her, and she scoffs as if the answer is too obvious.

- “So much, so, so much. I can’t believe this is actually the first time I get the chance to talk with your wife. We have so much to share. We both know you so well.”

- “I give a fuck about your stupid crush on Spencer. I just want my family back.”- Frank snaps and I hold him back.

- “I like you, you are feisty. I never got what were you doing hanging out with two feds. You had potential as a riot maker.”- Cat smiles at Frankie and my friend nearly bites her as he replies.

- “Oh shut up. Just tell us what the fuck you want and let us leave.”

- “I just wanted us to talk. I mean, we’ve been all connected for so long, it’s only fair we get to know each other better. Especially us, (Y/N). Our lives, and some other things, have been touched by the same man.”

It’s official. I’m gonna kill Cat Adams.

Spencer’s point of view

- “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your husband?”- Cat asks with the most innocent tone of voice and I don’t know if I should look at (Y/N) or just ignore what’s going on. Of course, my wife knows what to answer, though her cold tone of voice is so unsettling.

- “A lot of things you did made me mad today. Mostly the fact you kidnapped my friend’s family. Why?”

- “Why what? Why I kissed him? He kissed me, actually.”- I open my mouth to argue with Cat’s affirmation, but (Y/N) speaks quicker, sounding incredibly tired of the whole situation.

- “No, Cat. Why don’t you just release their family? They have nothing to do with this.”

- “They have so much to do with all this. What was it, Reids? Did you think you were gonna quit and everything was gonna be fine? You don’t get it. They don’t get it.”- she ads and looks at Frank and Mikey.- “Did you guys get it? How much your friends have fucked up your lives? How their jobs got you all in this shit?”

- “Honestly, right now, I give a shit about their lives. I just want you to stop this and release our family.”

- “Wow, Frank. That’s not what a friend would say.”- the way Cat says Paco’s name is upsetting, and I can see how my wife is trying to mask her anger.

- “Excuse us, but we actually have other things in mind right now.”- Mikey adds, and lights a cigarette.

- “Like what?”

- “Are you gonna hurt Lizzy and Charlie?”

- “No if I don’t have to.”- I know Cat is lying. - “What’s important here is that you learn your lesson.”

- “Which lesson would that be?”- Frank questions and crosses his arms on his chest. He and Mikey are standing at each side of my wife, protecting her. Something I wish I could do better at this moment.

- “Well, usually Spencie and I spend our time together playing games, but tonight I brought you all here to make a point. You could do so much better.”

- “With you?”- I ask her, but she shakes her head and points at my wife and her friends.

- “The three amigos here. Especially you, (Y/N). You had so much potential. I know you’ve been wanting to leave the BAU for longer than your husband here, and you’ve stayed in this shitty job, putting your friends and their families in danger just because he can’t make up his freaking mind.”

- “That’s not true.”- I argue, but my wife doesn’t say a word. Instead, I see her fighting the tears. And Cat smiles, rejoicing in the pain she is causing (Y/N).

- “Apparently, it is.”

- “(Y/N)?”- I whisper her name and she bites her lips, trying not to burst into tears. Frank holds her hand and Mikey wraps an arm around her, two things I should be doing.

- “I’ve hated this job since before Hotch had to leave. I wanted to quit since Raven was born. You just… didn’t listen every time I tried to tell you.”

- “You see, Spencie? Your wife hasn’t been happy for a while, and you never noticed. Your marriage isn’t as perfect as you thought it would be.”

- “Chipmunk, why didn’t you tell me?”- I whisper, afraid of the answer.

- “I couldn’t. You just… weren’t ready to deal with this, and I thought if I faked it for a little longer, I was going to fall in love with the job again.”

- “But you didn’t”- Cat adds and my wife just shakes her head.

- “And you know what’s even worse than that? The fact a psycho noticed and you didn’t!”- (Y/N) isn’t yelling, but the words come out filled with anger, and she is being sincere.

- “I… I am so sorry, chipmunk.”

- “Finally, we are getting to the heart of the matter.”- Cat claps a few times and walks around our empty living room.- “He told me he doesn’t want to sell this place, by the way. That he still comes and hangs out here on his own when he says he is running an errand.”

- “Everything I said, I did to save their families, ma cherie.”- I ignore Cat and try to talk to my wife. But she ignores me.

- “Did that kiss look like a lie, (Y/N)? Be honest.”- Cat asks her.

- “It was.”- I assure my wife but she wipes her tears from her cheeks and looks at me, knives coming from her eyes.

- “You know that looked pretty real, Spencer.”

- “Chipmunk, please.”

- “Shut up, Reid.”- Frank is losing his patience.- “You fucked it up, at least admit it.”

- “Frank is right. Everyone thinks that Doctor Spencer Reid is just this nice, bookish genius who always saves the day and has all the answers and who would never ever hurt anyone, right? ‘Cause he is the nice guy. But I know the real him.”

- “Oh yeah? Who is the real me, Cat?”- I sound defiant ‘cos I’m fucking tired of this trial.

- “The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls and hisses that he’s gonna kill them.”- she replies, hitting a sensitive spot.

- “That was a very different situation.”- I explain, but she dismisses my words.

- “Your wife was there. Am I right, (Y/N)?”

- “What is she talking about?”- Frank asks and turns to me.- “Who the fuck did you hurt?”

- “No one! I hurt no one!”- I try to defend myself, but I know Cat will have a different point of view.

- “Come on, Spence”- she says with a mocking tone of voice.- “Don’t lie to your friends anymore. That’s why we are here. To be honest with each other, so they can see you are not a saint, and that their friend really screws them over bringing you into their lives.”

- “Who did you hurt, Spencer?”- Mikey asks and stares at me, demanding answers.

- “You tell him. They are not gonna believe it coming from me.”- Cat says innocently.

Frank and Mikey stare at me as if they don't know the story. Which they don’t. Not this part, at least.

- “I’m sure you remember two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…"

- “And you threw her against a wall?”- Frank asks raising an eyebrow, shocked.

- “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. They deserve to know everything.”- Cat is surely enjoying this moment of humiliation for me.

- “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.”- I whisper those words staring at the ground ‘cause I am honestly ashamed of confessing it in front of my friends.

- “And?”- Mikey asks.- “How badly did you hurt her? Did you lose your temper?”

- “Well, the next day I miscarried, so you can imagine who mad get got.”- Cat whispers but the words are heard by everybody.

- “That's not true.”- I snap and look at her, in shock.

- “It is most certainly true. Check my medical records."- Cat basically threatens us with those files, and I can't believe a word she is saying.

- “That doesn't mean I… I would stop.”

- “You stopped ‘cause your wife forced you. But who forces you to stop when you lose your temper with her?”

- “I would never…”- I whisper shocked by her insinuation.

- “Never, Spence? You did it with me.”- Cat raises an eyebrow and looks at me.

- “You had kidnapped my mother!”

- “So that gives you the right to kill my baby?”

Kill a baby. I murdered a poor child. I feel the knot in my throat tighten and fight the tears. Cat has to be lying. She has to. Because if by any chance she is telling the truth, I don’t think I will ever be able to live with the guilt. I’ve killed evil men, and I’ve pulled the trigger knowing the consequences of my acts many times. But not once I’ve ever thought about hurting a baby, an innocent child.

- “I thought you were decent.”- it’s the repugnance in Frank’s tone of voice that shocks me. - “To think you could do that to my sister.”

- “I would nev…”

- “Shut up, dude.”- Mikey pushes my arm, but my wife stops him.- “I always knew your mister goody goody attitude had to be fake. No one is like that in real life.”

- “It was about damn time you knew the real Spencer.”

- “Shut up, Cat.” - (Y/N) whispers and covers her face with both hands.- “You wanted to hurt my whole family? Congratulations, you did it! Now let those poor people free! They didn’t do anything!”

- “They did! You are just not seeing it yet, chipmunk!”

My wife’s nickname coming from Cat’s lips seems tainted. And somehow I realize how she makes me my sanity. I can picture myself hurting Cat Adams and not feeling bad about it. That kind of thought is dangerous.

- “I’m sorry.”- I whisper and try to reach (Y/N), hold her hand, but she moves away from me, breaking my heart.

- “Notice how he apologizes to you, not to me, and it’s my dead baby.”

- “I would never… I didn’t mean to…”

- “It doesn’t matter, Spencer.”- Cat says and looks at my wife.- “All men are the same. Aren’t they, Mrs. Reid?”

- “Don’t call her that.”- I snap at her immediately.

- “Or what? Are you gonna throw me against the wall? Choke me? Or do you do that only to pregnant women?”

- “Why are you doing this to them?”- Mikey asks, thankfully ending that useless argument.

- “Because I want you all to see it. How Spencer ruins everything he touches.”- Cat looks at Mikey and Frank as she speaks, and then looks at my wife.- “Spencer ain’t better than whoever hurt you before.”

- “Don’t you dare bring that up”- Mikey’s words stop my heart, and my wife looks at him with watered-up eyes. I have no idea what he is talking about, but whatever it is, it pleases Cat, so she looks at my wife with a fake smile and asks.

- “What’s his name?”

- “I mean it, (Y/N), we are not talking about this shit.”- Mikey warns her, and I stare at them puzzled. What have they been hiding all these years?

- “Come on, Mrs. Reid. Tell us.”

- “It’s not of your business. Mikey is right. We are not talking about him. Release their families.”- but Cat just smiles a her and shakes her head.

- “You know it’s my business, (Y/N). It’s my specialty. What I did for a living. So come on. Share with the class.”

- “If you wanna know about him, release their families.”- my wife crosses her arms on her chest and stares at her.

- “Do you want me to make a phone call so you can trace it?”- Cat smiles at (Y/N) and mimics her posture.- “You guys at the FBI are so good.”

- “What the fuck is wrong with you?”- Frank shouts- “Stop flirting with Spencer and release our families! What is this sick, twisted thing you two have? And how are you not breaking her face?!”- he asks and turns to my wife.- “He clearly has feelings for her! How can you just overlook that?!”

- “I can’t overlook it! It’s just… I can’t-” (Y/N) fights the tears and groans as she walks across the room.- “What she does to him I can’t control it. Happy? Now release their families! Please!”

My wife sounds desperate, and Cat simply stares at her.

- “Tell me his name.”

- “Don’t do it, we’ll find another way.”- Mikey warns her. Why is he trying to keep this a secret?

- “Tell me the story, (Y/N). And I promise you, Lizzy and Charlie will be free to go.”

- “Nugget, you fucking promised me we were never going to talk about that again. Don’t do it.”- Mikey begs her.

- “We have to do anything she wants if we want to save Lizzy and Charlie"- (Y/N) mutters and sighs.- "Sometimes bitches win. This time, she does.”

- “No, please.”- Mikey sobbs and hugs (Y/N). What the fuck happened that I never heard anything of.

- “Arthur.”- my wife walks away from me and whispers the rest.- “His name is Arthur, he is Mikey’s older brother. We dated for two years.”

- “Your best friend brother. What happened?”- Cat is enjoying this and I hate it.

- “What do you think happened? Does it look like we lived happily ever after?"- (Y/N) asks, annoyed

- “Tell me, when did it end?”- Cat keeps asking.

- “When I was twenty.”- my wife stares at her hand, embarrassed by the story.

- “Was he your first?”

- “Shut up.”- I stare at Cat and she just smiles at me.

- “What? I just wanted to know. You surely must know you were not her first.”

- “He was my first love. I loved him since I can remember. Mikey’s older brother, he was… he always seemed so cool. So different than all the kids in school.”

- “And what happened?”

- “What do you think happened, Cat?”- (Y/N) sounds irritated.- “Do you think everything ended like a fucking fairy tale?”- but Cat shakes her head, keeping her posture and calm.

- “Come on, Reid. I am not the enemy here. Just tell me the story.”

My wife sighs and looks at Mikey. He is angry, and fighting the tears himself.

- “I’m sorry.”- (Y/N) whispers and holds his hand.- “I tried to change for him. I did. A lot. He didn’t like that I was smarter than him, or that I had many friends in school. So I stopped hanging out with my friends from college. I never talked about school, my classes, or any kind of award or recognition I got for my grades. But that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to control everything I did. Everyone I talked to. But it wasn’t enough.”

- “When did he start hitting you?”

- “He didn’t.”- my wife replies and shakes her head.- “He never raised his hand to me… not until the end at least. Instead, he isolated me. I barely even saw my family anymore. Not even my closest friends were safe. Mikey and Frank realized something was wrong… but…”

- “But you somehow got out of that relationship. How?”- Cat walks towards my wife and stares at her. (Y/N) sighs and closes her eyes for a moment.

- “My dad… he tried to talk to me about my boyfriend. He noticed things were not ok. I had moved out of their house already, and we barely saw each other anymore. So… he told me he thought Arthur wasn’t right for me. At first, I didn’t believe him. I thought he was just being an ass because he loved me and he was jealous.”

- “I hate this.”- Mikey mumbles, eyes filled with tears. - “You swore you weren’t talking about this with anyone!”

- “She has your wife’s sister, I’m trying to save her! So your brother raped me! There! I said it!”

- “Chipmunk, stop talking, now.”- I demand and move closer to my wife. Mikey bursts into tears and Frank hugs him.

- “No, don’t stop. Give me your phone.”- my wife does and Cat diales.- “Look, I’ll release their families as soon as you finish this story.”

(Y/N) off the tears that fall down her cheek and looks at Cat, and for once, I don’t think she is trying to read if she is lying. She is connecting with her.

- “My dad talked to me one day. We had a heart-to-heart, and after some time I realized Arthur wasn’t good for me, so I ended things. Of course, he didn’t take it well… and he hit me and raped me.”

- “And you…”- Cat stares at (Y/N) with a smirk. She is enjoying every second of this, rejoicing in her pain.

- “I still couldn’t legally carry a gun so…”- there’s a deep silence for a moment. I don’t move, I just stare at (Y/N) thinking there is nothing she can say that will stop me from loving her.- “So my dad took the blame. He said he walked into him hurting me and shot him…”

- “It was self-defense… he was hurting you.”- I whisper and look at my wife. She didn’t deserve any of that at such a young age.

- “How did it feel killing him? Did you enjoy it?”

- “I didn’t kill him, Cat. I shot his leg and called my dad. He called the ambulance… and he fixed everything.”

- “Well, aren’t you daddy’s little girl”- Cat chuckles and turns to me.- “You really have a type, don’t you?”

- “He helped me. Got him behind bars and made sure he was never going to hurt me again. There! That’s my story. Now you know…”

- “Now you all know… and your friendship is doomed.”- Cat replied and grinned.

- “Why is our friendship doomed, Cat?”- my wife asks- “Mikey knew this whole story.”

- “He did… but he didn’t know this: what I did took me zero planning. Less than a week and I destroyed your lives. Anyone at any time can hurt your family and extended family ‘cause you and Spencer caused so much pain to so many psycho killers like me, anyone can seek revenge. Leaving the FBI doesn’t even matter ‘cause you are in too deep already.”

(Y/N)’s cell phone rings she rushes outside without saying another word, Mikey and Frank following her immediately. Cat stares at me with an evil grin.

- “I win.”

And I feel like I just lost so much. 

Previous chapter | Next chapter

[justanothermemestrider]

Nothing Ever Stays Dead - Part 4

Action sequence time baby let's gooooooo

Thank you guys so much for all the support so far. This one took a little longer to cook because fight scenes take ages to choreograph lol.

If you missed the previous part, you can catch up here :)

A lot for explicit violence in this one, including blood and gore, so be prepared for that. Also, I spent ages researching Dark Eldar weaponry, but it's all so wacky and weird that I just kinda did my own thing? I know I know, it's kinda lazy, but I've already twisted the lore so much for this story already, what's the harm in a little more?

Aside from that, apologies for spelling and grammar errors, I hope you enjoy and as always, thanks for reading!

Ellicent yelps in surprise as Gadriel grabs her. When she glimpses the Dark Eldar skiff, though, it quickly becomes a snarl "Severus!" she hisses. "Severus, you fucking rat! You-"

The screeching song of metal clanging against metal drowns out the rest of her furious cries.

Shredder rounds. Fist sized shells packed with razor-sharp monofilaments and the prefered weapons for this particular war band. Their function is in the name: to shred. Everything. From flesh and bone to steel and concrete. And, if the grimace on Gadriel's face is anything to go by, even space marine ceramite.

Just beyond his right shoulder, Ellicent spots the skiff again. It's hovering, now. Flanks split open like misplaced mouths, spewing scores of Dark Eldar raiders. Their armour is black and sleek; all crossing belts and studded leather. Except the studs aren't studs at all, but are rather chunks of skull and spinal bones. And the leather... Throne. Some of their chest pieces still have hair. Still have faces. Ellicent feels her stomach tie itself into knots.

The xenos still on the skiff cease their rain of fire as their melee force joins the fray. The latter hits the rooftop running. Gnarled spears and serrated blades flash in their taloned hands. Their long, elven faces are twisted into wicked grins. Some of them shriek in bloodlust and ecstasy.

Ellicent sets her jaw. "Turn left, Gadriel!"

Without hesitation, he does as she says. Twisting his hips, keeping a hold on Ellicent as he does. A trio of Dark Eldar are in front of her now. Screeching in delight with their weapons raised. Ellicent lifts her gauss canon towards them. With a cry of her own, she squeezes the trigger with her entire hand. The necron weapon cracks like a sonic boom. A lance of green energy- blinding, sparking, pulsing- explodes from its barrel at the speed of light. It hits the centre-most raider in the chest. For a moment his squeals turn agonising. Then, he says nothing at all. The beam devours him whole, blowing his body apart before stripping the pieces of their very atoms. It leaves no remains. Not even a pile of ash.

Alarmed, his comrades scatter, but Ellicent is on them like a hawk. Two more times, she fires. And two more times, a xenos is obliterated. She releases the trigger. Her gauss canon whines at her as if in disappointment.

Above her head, she hears Gadriel laughing.

His voice sounds different, now. Mechanical. Modulated. Ellicent glances up to find his face is now covered by a red Astartes' helm. The sight startles her a little. "Holy Terra," he says. "I'm glad you didn't hit me with that thing."

At first, the comment makes Ellicent wince. Then, she hears the smile in his voice.

He's joking. Seems like such a trivial thing, especially now. But even so, Ellicent can't help the warmth she feels inside at the realisation.

All around them, the Dark Eldar raiders circle them like sharks, no less blood-thirsty, but definately wary now. Their skiff continues to orbit overhead and its shredder fire has started up again. But it's not aimed at them anymore. It's aiming behind them. From that same direction, Ellicent hears the periodic bellow of a bolter.

The other Ultramarine. It has to be. What had Gadriel called him again?

Titus.

Gadriel releases the arm he'd had pinned across her middle, returning Ellicent to her feet. She hears a sword unsheath, an energy field activate. In her peripherals, she glimpses his power sword in one of his hands.

He stands at her back. His armour and undersuit are rough against her skin.

They're also wet...

"Are you bleeding?" she asks.

"I was. But no longer."

Despite herself, Ellicent's chest tightens. "Are you alright?"

Gadriel's response is a growl. "Dont worry about me. Focus on looking after yourself."

Ellicent stifles a growl of her own. You don't need to tell me; that's all I've been doing for the last fifty years.

Limber as they are, the Dark Eldar are still impossibly quick. They don't sprint so much as glide across the floor, and when they duck and dodge, their bodies are literal blurs.

Ellicent fires her gauss cannon again. She tags one on the arm. In a flurry of screams and green light, the limb evaporates, all the way up to the creature's shoulder. The raider collapses to the ground, writhing and wailing. The sight makes Ellicent grin. The Dark Eldar are infamous for deriving pleasure from pain; not just other's but their own, too. Looks like atomisation, though is too excruciating a pain even for the likes of them.

Holding down the trigger this time, Ellicent swings the weapon from left to right, carving into the incoming raiders with a continuous spray of lethal anti-matter. Three more fall victim to its fire, but one- a long-legged male in nothing but a skin loin cloth- manages to slip through. He's getting close. Too close. If Ellicent were to fire on him now, she'd risk catch herself in the blast. Taking her hand off the trigger, Ellicent grips both of the canon's handles tight. As the naked raider cocks his arm back to slash at her, she drops low. Putting every ounce of body weight and cybernetic strength behind the swing as she can, Ellicent slams the barrel of her gauss canon into the alien's groin. The xenos goes down like a corpse, howling in pain and fury. Before he can rise, Ellicent raises her necronian leg high and slams her foot into his head. Bone and blood spray as her metal heel plunges through his skull. When she lifts her foot again, her heel and sole are both splattered with pulverised brain matter.

A roar at her back catches her attention. She spins just in time to see Gadriel cleave one of his attackers in half with his power sword. Another, he punches in the chest with his free hand. The alien's body explodes as if it'd just been hit with a tank round.

Ellicent watches him with shock on her face. She's seen and fought enough space marines in her time to have overcome the transhuman dread that the sight of them afflicts in mortals. But seeing these things in Gadriel- her Gadriel- it brings that sickly feeling surging right back.

It unsettles her. Throws her off-balance and out-of-focus. It lasts only a second. But in that same second, for reasons unknown, the Dark Eldar skiff steers its sights away from Titus and back to her. And Ellicent realises it too late.

Releasing her gauss canon, she drops to one knee and throws up her robotic arm. She angles it across her head and chest, trying to shield her most vital parts. It's pointless, she knows. Even if she manages to spare her heart or brain, the shredders will just cut the rest of her to ribbons. But it's all Ellicent can think to do. She has to try. She can't just-

An enormous ceramite hand grabs her around the waist and yanks her out of the way.

"Head down!" Gadriel yells. Dropping his sword, he hugs her to his chest with both arms and crouches on one knee. His ceramite screams as the shredders make impact. Ellicent pictures their bladed edges biting through the plate and sawing into the undersuit beneath. Sparks fill through the air. The stench of burning metal is almost sickening. Ellicent squeezes her eyes shut. She shimmies her arms free from where they're pinned against Gadriel's midriff and covers her ears.

Her breath hitches. Her hands; they feel wet and sticky.

Is that...

Reopening her eyes, Ellicent looks at her palms. All over her arms, from her finger tips up to her biceps, she's streaked with human blood. Same as down her front, where she's pressed into Gadriel's torso.

Ellicent's throat tightens.

Gadriel.

She can't see his face from behind his helmet. Its slanted red eyes make it look like he's glaring with rage. But his grip isn't as strong as it had been before, and with every third or fourth shredder that hits, she hears him winces.

The knot in Ellicent's throat winds tighter. "We can't stay here!" she cries. "We've got to move!"

"And go where?" he grunts. The thinness of his voice only confirms what she'd already feared.

"Get me a shot at the skiff. I can take it down."

"You expose yourself like that and you'll be dead in a second."

"I've got to try!"

"Don't you dare."

"If I don't, they'll tear you-"

"I said no, Ellie!" Gadriel shouts.

It's then the shredder suddenly stops again. Still holding onto Ellicent, Gadriel looks over his shoulder.

"What?" she asks.

"Oh Throne," he mutters.

As the curse leaves his mouth, his body lurches forwards and his voice devolves into a pained groan.

"Gadriel?" Ellicent grasps his sides of his helmet with both hands. "Hey! Are you okay?"

Gadriel falls to one knee. Releasing one of his arms from around her to catch himself. Ellicent takes the chance to wrestle free from his grasp. Quickly, she scans him up and down. What she finds makes her stomach drop.

It's an impaler. A two-pronged, ship-mounted harpoon weapon, one the Dark Eldar typically reserve for taking out vehicles or skewering heavy armour. And they've just shot Gadriel with one. Speared him in the back and straight through his right side. Blood pours from both wounds in a torrent. Already, it's made a pool on the floor.

"Oh no..."

Ellicent runs back to him. Grabs his helmet again as if she were cupping his cheeks. "No, no, no, no!"

"Ellie..." His voice cracks like broken glass. It brings tears to Ellicent's eyes. "Listen to me. You... you have to..."

"Shut your mouth," Ellicent growls. Before he can argue with her, she steps away from him. Aiming her gauss canon at the sky, hunting for the skiff. She finds it, but never gets the chance to fire. The raiders are waiting for her. The second she's out of Gadriel's protective shadow, they're on her. Kicking out her legs. Ripping her weapon from her hands. Slamming her face into the floor, then a club into the back of her head. The last thing she sees is Gadriel. Kneeled over, covered in blood, a monstrous alien spear sticking out of his ribs. A scream tears through her throat. The sound is the truest embodiment of fury and grief.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Gadriel dreams of steel and blood. The stench of hot iron. The taste of copper. A haze of blinding light and shredded nerve endings.

He doesn't know where he is, how much time has passed. He doesn't even know if he's still alive.

And what about Titus? What happened to him? And Ellie-

Oh Throne. Ellie...

The haze suddenly dissolves. All at once, his senses return. They do so with startling clarity. The smell of hot iron is replaced by that of dampness and decay. His ears ring with the high-pitched hum of an alien engine. He suddenly remembers he has eyes and gingerly, opens them one by one.

A single, white lamp illuminated the entire space around him. Black metal surrounds him, save for the walls on his left and directly in front of him, which instead are made from thick heavy bars. The air is humid and warm, like the inside of a beast's stomach. The stench is nauseating. Gadriel reaches for his helmet to turn on its filters. Instead of ceramite, however, his fingers brush his bare cheek.

My armour...

He looks at his hands. His gauntlets are gone, too, along with every other piece of ceramite plate he'd been wearing. All that remains is his black undersuit.

They've captured me. The thought sends dread spiking through Gadriel's veins. Very few of the brothers he's met have fought the Dark Eldar, and fewer still have been captured and survived to tell the tale. But those few he does know told him about it. What they said had stayed with him right up to this very day.

I have to get out of here, he thinks. Planting his palms on the floor and pushing himself to his feet. I have to find Ellie and Titus, and get us all-

A spear of agony pierces Gadriel's right side and pained roar rips from his throat. He falls back against the wall, breathing hard and fast. Thick bands of sweat are pouring off his brow.

Tentatively, he touches his side. His finger come back slick with fresh blood.

Gadriel bares his teeth. That's right, he thinks bitterly. I'd almost forgotten.

The fresh blood, however, is deeply concerning. The moment the harpoon had been removed, his larraman cells should have sealed the wound closed tight. Wiping his hands on his thigh, Gadriel presses them to his stomach, chest and left side. Once against, his palms return bloody.

It's not just the spear wound; the cuts and gashes from the shredders haven't sealed either.

Gadriel's vision starts darkening again. His head now pounds in time with his injuries. It could just be his panicked mind playing tricks, but it feels an awful lot like he's about to loose consciousness again.

Shit. Not good. This is not good.

"Gadriel? Is that you?"

His vision suddenly clears. Gadriel looks up, peers through the bar wall separating his cell from the one next door . In the corner closest to the back edge, a shadow moves. Unfurling into the silhouette of a woman, crouching in front of the bars and gripping them with one hand.

"Yes it is," Ellie says quietly. In the low light, her eyes twinkle like a cat's. "It's really you."

With a grimace, Gadriel pushes off from the wall. His hearts are soaring, but in his current state, he can manage is sitting a little straighter. "Ellie! Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"Just have a sore head. They hit me pretty hard."

"I saw," Gadriel says. He swallows as a surge of acidic bile fills his mouth at the memory. "But you are otherwise unharmed?"

Ellie hesitates for a moment. Her silence is almost confused. "Yes," she eventually replies. "Yeah, I'm okay."

Gadriel sighs in tangible relief. "Thank the Emperor for that."

"What about you?" Ellie asks.

Gadriel grits his teeth in a rueful smile. "I think the bastards might’ve tagged me," he says.

Ellie isn't amused by his poor attempt at humour. "How bad is it?"

"It's not good," he admits.

"Can you move?"

"Probably. The bleeding hasn't stopped, though. Even though it should've."

"It's poison," says Ellie. "Kills larraman cells. They coat their projectiles with it. Meant to make space marines bleed to death."

Gadriel looks at his hands. The pounding in his head grows tenfold. "Well. Isn't that just great..."

"Yup." He hears shuffling as Ellie changes position. Sitting on thefloor now, she rests her left side on the bars separating her cell from his, hugging her knees to her chest.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" Gadriel asks her.

"Oh yeah," Ellie says. "Only the most cursed, ugly pain-ridden ship in this entire system." The dryness in her voice borders on resignation. "Welcome to the Dark Star."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

If the ending feels a bit abrupt that's because it is lol. I was writing this part, and it just kinda kept going and I realised it was gonna be way WAY too long. So I split it into two :)

Anyway, thank you so much for reading everyone. Part 5 is coming soon <3

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @lylakoi @justfreakynothingelse

[lillxart]

WIP Wed!

From a Sotha Sil x Lorkir fanfiction that's way on the back burner lol. Since I made that thing about Sotha Sil the other night, here's the fiction where my thoughts stemmed from!

Tagging: @ladytanithia @dirty-bosmer @hircines-hunter @sanza-17 @fujisakisan @skyrim-forever @theoneandonlysemla @theoneandonlysemla @sulphuricgrin @sanza-17 @ijiwaruuma @pocket-vvardvark

Title: "From One to Another"

Lorkir woke up with the sun hitting her face. The rays of light from the clockwork city working as her natural alarm clock. The sounds that greeted her ears were the chirpings of machines given songs by her own voice. Echoes of secrets passed from one to another. The sheets underneath her body were warm, no doubt from the heat coursing through her blood. She stared out the window, face melancholic and heart empty. Facing the reality of what she had lost, the wishweaver turned away from the window and rolled to the other side of the bed, expecting it to be cold and vacant. 

“Ah, I see you’ve finally awoken.”

But…much to the God’s surprise…it wasn’t? “Sothalis.” She sat up, blanket languidly falling down her bare shoulder. 

Sotha Sil sat there in a pair of bedrobes (funny, she didn’t think he had bedrobes) with a cup of tea in his hand and a book with a title she didn’t recognize. The bronze mask that was on his face last night was now removed, only the metal arm remained permanently attached to him, seamlessly integrated into his dark skin. When the light caught the side of his face, the glow was almost too striking to witness. “I didn’t think you would take so long to wake up, considering you have no need of sleep in the first place.”

Still speechless, Lorkir opened and closed her mouth like a fish. Feeling terribly awkward, she blushed and covered herself with the blanket. “I…well…”

“My, to think I’d hear you speechless, I’m almost disappointed.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be next to me when I woke up.” Lorkir quickly replied. 

“I must leave some room in my countenance for surprises. At least, in cases like these where I am allowed.” Sotha Sil found amusement in his own statement, the corner of his mouth up turning into an almost smile. 

Lorkir had no idea where to go from here. For the first time in a while she was at a loss. The fluttering of her heart demanded that she cuddle up next to Sothalis, enjoy a quiet morning in peace while he continues to read his book and she reads along over his shoulder. However, knowledge of her predicament suggests that the wisest course of action would be that she carry on like before. She had done what she came to do, initially, and so she has no reason to stay. 

But how badly she wanted to stay. 

“Love is the greatest cloud over the mind. No matter how the sun shines how and how the seas rise, the clouds remain ever stagnant, until not even love itself can be seen…” Lorkir tilted her head at the quote. Sotha Sil lightly smirked and turned to face her. “Something Vivec told me once. Though what inspired the words was a situation far different from your own.”

“I can imagine… -~-;” Lorkir sighed. Making her decision she shifted over to Sotha Sil’s side of the bed. She towered over him, naturally. But despite the size difference she was able to get comfortable. Sotha Sil made no effort to stop her, nor relaxed in her embrace. He simply remained as he was, focused on what he was reading. The text on his lap were his own journal entries. He was looking over schematics, various concepts and dreams meant to be given reality through his machines. His passions. Some of his ideas were perfectly viable, others stretched into mad conjecture. But the witch God felt the intensity, the desperation with each stroke of ink on the paper. Her heart pounded for the soul that was so poisoned by its compassion. The very scent of the false God choking her lungs yet intoxicating her like wine. “Anything I can help with?” Lorkir, perhaps callously, offered. 

“There might still be some use for you yet.” How it hurt for him to say what she wanted to hear. 

When Sotha Sil finished his tea they rose from bed and got dressed, Lorkir taking in the beauty of his body before it was covered up by his attire. Sotha Sil knew she was staring, and gave a chance for her to act on her desires before he tied the sash around his waist. But, as he predicted, she fled from his gaze when he met her eyes. When he reached for his mask, however, something happened that he did not predict.  

“Wait.” A plea, not silent, but concise. Sotha Sil turned around and met her eyes once more. They were almost fragile, the emotion so perfect on her face because of the light that shined through her fractaled eyes. Lorkir came close to him and put her hand on the mask, slowly pushing it back down to the table. She knelt down on one knee so she could meet him and stroked his face with a gentle reverence that was too raw to verbally express. Despite the intensity of her passion, his expression remained the same. Lorkir studied his face, committing every detail to memory, as he had committed his clockwork city to his own memory. Finally, after a time, she leaned in and kissed the side of his face that was normally covered by his mask, now vacant of cold metal and instead soft and warm with living flesh. “...Sorry.” She took a step back, now returning to full height. 

“Does a gift giver apologize for giving gifts?” He replies. 

“If the gift is forced upon them is it still considered a gift?”

For that split second, Lorkir saw regret in his eyes. But it was gone as soon as he adorned his mask. “Will you be at my side today, as you have been? Or shall you depart?” 

Do you want me here? It was on the tip of her tongue, but Lorkir couldn’t bring herself to say it. “I’ll stay a while. Not so long that I’ll make your clockwork disciples nervous.” the God teased. 

Sotha Sil chuckled. “I believe you already make them a great deal nervous.” He opened the door to his bed chambers and they left for the day. 

Lorkir did say she would be at his side, but she had developed a routine of flying around the clockwork city during the morning. The beautiful gears shimmering in the light while petals from apple blossom trees were carried by the wind. It was a picture perfect sight, and the God enjoyed basking in it greatly. The sight of a dragon flying around the city brought great terror the first time it happened, but now there was only slight unease instead of fear. A positive progression, she supposes. 

Finding her favorite spot near the top of one of the towers, Lorkir landed and discarded her dragon avatar. She felt a chill as her feet touched the metal, before fully laying down and staring up at the turning sky. 

Absolutely beautiful. And how easily she was lulled by it. 

Sotha Sil worked in the heart of the city, locked away in his laboratory. What he was attempting was nothing short of extraordinary and required a delicate hand and quiet mind. To craft a new imperfect took immense concentration, building off of what he had learned previously. Yet despite his complete focus on the task, his desire separated itself from him. A separate entity that stood behind him, beckoning his mind to stray from the task at hand. 

His mind should not be consumed with her.

Lorkir, the God of Covetousness, the Wishweaver, the White Dragon and Bane of the Firstborn Son. She was the source of horrors written in stone yet untold by word of mouth. She represents all forms of temptation, of folly, her mere existence meant to unravel any heart. And Sotha Sil cannot allow his heart to be unraveled. From the moment he saw her approaching in the distance he knew a great doom would threaten the role he was now compelled to. Every stolen whisper, every freely given smile, every glance in desire is a crack in a carefully constructed mirror that he has built for himself. Lorkir knows this, in truth, he knows that she does. And yet she lurks like a shadow, mouth open and wanting, begging to be fed by him. And, though he cannot admit it, how badly he is tempted to allow himself to be consumed. “I have made the gravest mistake someone in my position can make, and I knowingly continue in it…” Seht rubbed his forehead, exasperated with his own lingering weakness. 

“Seht, I have prepared your tea, as you have asked.” One of the Clockwork disciples entered into his chambers bringing the camomile tea with honey per his request. A look of worry was etched onto the Dunmer’s face, since the great Sotha Sil rarely asks for refreshments.

“Thank you. It is much appreciated. Now, go and seek out Lorkir. I suspect she has fallen asleep somewhere in the city. Wake her up, and inform her that I request her presence.”

“Yes, Great Seht.” The disciple scurried away.

[miabrown007]

sometimes, three hours into a youtube rabbit-hole, you have a profound realization that you are not at all this channel's target audience

[lexishoney]

i might be the only one but i couldn't care less about frenchie and colin tbh. i had the same problem with maeve and elena but they eventually grew on me with later seasons but i was still dissapointed that we never get to know elena. and idk for me kimiko and frenchie's relationship took a very strange route this season. at first two seasons they had been written as possible love interests, then in season 3 they both decided that they are the secret third thing which was so cool and original and completely different take on love between characters that can't be categorized in simple words like: *"platonic""romantic""erotic"*. frenchie and kimiko were always intimate with each other and don't get me wrong i have nothing against the new drama that just dropped but i do think that writers wanted to have a cake and eat it and instead of admitting that kimiko and frenchie ended up in the relationship, they wanted to experiment with frenchie's bisexuality and they threw his relationship with kimiko out of the window. the last thing that i'm about to say might be controversial. i think it would be more interesting for writers to write bi frenchie in the relationship with kimiko and do the commentary on the topic of people under bi umbrella not being taken seriously because they are in long term relationship with person of opposite gender. and before someone decides to put some words into my mouth that i hate gay men or whatever: i won't cry if colin and frenche become endgame i have more interesting things to do than worrying about some ship from tv show (i'm so uninterested in those shipping wars or love triangles or anything). it just seems a little bit weird choice made by writers and completely strange for plot sake

[ganondoodle]

the closer we get to arcanes finale the more worried i am bc so often .. if not always .. things i like end in a way that i dislike so much it ruins everything else for me

and im so worried they pull a 'this is a multiverse' thing bc then they can say every skin is somehow canon bc its all different universes you seeeeee and jayce went mad bc he lived through all of them or something, or force it to end in a way that makes the champions end up like they are in game- Vi is a shitty cop, Jinx is just heehoo craycray bc xyz etc

[marimbles]

i miss carpisuns sometimes </3