#enjoy the content I managed to gather in the last few months

[sorryiliketoscreenshot]

[hoshigray]

idk if you’re taking in requests or thirsts but imagine giving toji a lap dance and even then he’s still the one who’s in charge and shiittt 😵‍💫

i want him so bad 😞

lol, why did I think of a stripper AU when I saw this? Also, this ask is like MONTHS old, I'm so sorry...also tysm for 4.9k guyssss, ur too kind

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x stripper fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - sensual movements; lap dances + bumping and grinding - kisses (f! receiving) - clitoral stimulation - breast fondling + nipple play - biting/nibbling- pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart, sweetie) - no penetration, but things get steamy - cameos: Mei Mei, Nanami and Ino. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

You were Toji’s favorite stripper.

You, your coworkers, and all the clients who come to enjoy the show all know this as fact. 

It’s all fun and games that this is your job, and you must cater to all the other men and women who come to see you strut and work your stuff (or else your manager, Mei Mei, would have your head).

But this is something that should never be forgotten. When that raven-haired man with a scar on his lip walks into the premises, everyone has to act right: you’re off-limits because you are his girl. 

Tonight was one of those Friday nights; women gather around the bar top to gather their weekend drinks – and flirt with Kento Nanami, the part-time bartender. Men under the influence howl at the topless entertainers, allowing them to motorboat and stuff cash into their underwear. And Ino, the DJ, plays the tunes that set the mood and keep the place going. 

Toji walks past all of that — he’s not here for it. He strides up to the open area, where there are mini stages abided by booths, a pole for each that comes from the ceiling down. He comes to one of the stages, and a dancer stops midway through her routine to greet the man, ignoring the girls who whine from her mesmerizing dancing coming to a halt. “Toji~, it’s Friday already?” 

“Yup, good to see you, Roxy,” he flashes a quick smile at the named entertainer. “They here today?”

Roxy giggles. “Knew you were going to ask me that. They should be at that back one over there at the corner…Oh! There they are.” She points, and Toji follows her finger to the promised stage and booth at the corner. He grins and gives a curt nod to Roxy before going on his way. “Enjoy the show, Toji~”

At the club corner is a booth filled with tired businessmen who come to drink. But guessing from the grins on their faces, they’re too enamored by what’s in front of them to quench their first. On the pole, twirling around the metal bar, was you. Entertaining the men with the usual routine, a few tricks, and moves to wow the mix of young and old business clients. And they gasp and roar at you, splitting your legs during a high kick.

Unfortunately, though, this was the last of their fun with you. Because after you transition from the pole, taking a client’s hand to have them aid you down the stage, something – or someone – catches your attention from the corner of your eye. You turn and smile, “Hey there, big guy.”

“Hey,” he greets you with a smirk. The guys around the booth watch, most with expressions as if their hearts dropped. Minus one, a young man who felt he should question the man standing next to him. 

“Uhh, excuse me,” he says to the dark-haired, burly man. The other colleagues looked at him as if he lost his mind. “We got this table first, so go over somewhere with the other strippers and—“ 

He could not finish that sentence. Because Toji pulled the kid off his seat with one hand, the poor bastard squeaked at the sudden action. Piercing green eyes bore into his skull, his blood shifting to icy cold. “How ‘bout I have you go somewhere? Either in the trash or six feet under, whichever floats y’r boat.” 

The scared look on the poor kid’s face didn’t change Toji’s attitude. Not even the other guys who were pleading to him to let their friend go, that he didn’t know what he was doing. He did not come here to start something, not tonight. 

And for that, you were the only one who could calmly intervene, dissuading the situation by placing a hand on Toji’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Toji. I was giving these guys a little show before you came in. Now, please let him go, okay? I don’t think Mei Mei would want to deal with another broken arm situation.”

It was the safest option that you spoke to him, his little favorite. So, with a gruff scoff, Toji lets the guy go for him to land on the floor roughly. “You heard ‘em, fellas. Outta my spot.” The entrepreneurs get up and scram with no hesitation, grumbling at the younger colleague for causing such strife in the first place as they walk away somewhere, leaving you and Toji. 

He watches them leave, turning to you when they’re at a respectable distance. Here is when he properly gets a good look at you. God, he could never get enough of you. You were wearing a black laced, caged mesh bra that covered your breasts, matching with lacy bottoms that shaped your hips beautifully. The bra was covered in rhinestones that shined with the club lights, which partnered with the side of your bottoms. And to complete the look, over-the-knee heeled boots that sparkled. A new favorite, Toji thinks.

“Well, now that you’re done terrorizing my guests,” you giggle and gesture to the booth seat. “Ready for me to spoil you?”

“Heh, think that’s the other way ‘round, sweetheart.” Toji chuckles as he takes off his coat and sits down. He notes you staring at his bulky arms for a quick second. You were fast, but not fast enough for him to catch you. “I’m sure y’re ready to drain my wallet.”

You walk between him and the stage behind you, bewitching him with the twinge of your lips as you bring your face closer. “Would that be a bad thing?”

Toji’s hand goes to your cheek, “A pretty lil’ angel like you? I’d let you rob every cent of me.”

The jest does its job of making you laugh before you withdraw your face from his hold. “You know the rules.” 

The older man rolls his eyes but obliges, putting his hands behind his head and shifting comfortably. “I know, I know. No touchy.”

“No touchy.” You repeat, knowing he’s on the same page while you warm yourself up. 

You start with the usual — he likes it. You turn and spread your legs, bending down slowly before him so he can get a perfect view of your ass and underwear. And you take your time getting up, using your hands to entice him by grazing them around your asscheeks. Next, you face him, eyes locked with his emerald ones. Taking one foot after the other, you bend again and place your hands on his thighs, rubbing them while maintaining eye contact. “How was work? Tough as usual?” 

Now, while you have rules of your own, he also has things he can’t share — like the fact that his primary source of income comes from killing people. It’s why he’s always sure to clean himself up before coming here, spending his hard-earned cash to see you. But he humors you with tiny hints, “Mmm, as usual. Broken nose here, blood on knuckles there.” 

You straighten up, placing a heeled foot on his right thigh. “My my, not that you got hurt, right?” 

“Not a single scratch.”

You lift a brow before bringing your leg down to swiftly sit on his lap, snaking your hands up from his abdomen and chest to his strong shoulders. “You’re quite the dangerous one.”

“Sure,” He chortles smugly, “but y’re one to talk.”

You play along, forming a small “o” with your lips to display faux surprise. All the while bouncing on his lap. “Me? Dangerous?” 

“Oh yeah, sweetie.” His eyes never leave your face, even when you sway to the side to measure his attention. “Y’re quite the little minx yourself.” 

Your eyes narrow, inching your face closer, your noses practically touching. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Slow grinds to his groin, it makes him swallow. You close your eyes, lips drawing in with a whisper. “Is it?”

Toji closes his eyes as well, falling for your sensual spell. “Not at all…” But nothing comes of it, only a string of giggles as you remove your face from his, poking the tip of his nose with your finger to signal with awake before fully withdrawing your figure from him. He grins, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ tease.”

“I don’t see you complaining, sir.” You throw the title at him with a playful smirk, batting an eye before turning around with your back facing him. You gently sit on his lap and transition your services to that of a lap dance. 

With an arched back, you roll your hips and ride on his lap, your butt rubbing on his jean-clad thighs to create heated friction. And Toji’s eyes examine your figure, from the highlighted skin of your back to the sway of your hips. The view of your butt rubbing on him gets him going, trying to fight the urge to just fuck the rules and grab your ass to grind on himself. Every rasp to his groin tests him to breathe steadily. 

But then, you just had to look at him over your shoulder with that cute, complacent leer. “How ya feelin’ there, big guy? Dangerous enough for you yet?”

Yup, fuck it. Rules be damned, Toji grabs for your ass and brings it down flat on his groin. The action takes you aback – unconditionally out of the accustomed routine. Before you can question him, Toji’s scarred lips are already at your ear. “You tell me, princess. Teasin’ me like that is just askin’ for it.”

You hold back a whimper when he comes to your neck, biting your lips when his lips meet your skin. “Mmmm…whatever happened to no touchy? You could get into trouble—“

“Aww, are ya worrying f’r me?” He snickers to your ear again, listening to you gasp at the buck of his hips to your ass. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, just keep dancin’ f’r me, ‘kay? I’ll take care of you…”

Toji bites the helix of your ear, rolling his hips to hump you. With a shaky moan, you grind on him to match his cadence. You’re nervous; this is against the policy: guests are not supposed to touch the entertainers. And yet, now, with Toji’s firm hands holding onto you and him whispering to your ear, it somehow feels different — a lot more hedonistic. 

You decide to play along, throwing your head back to his shoulder to rest, which gives him more access to kiss your exposed skin. His lips peck down your neck, and quivering wails seep from your lips when he mischievously nibbles on it. Too distracted to detect a hand snake down to your covered chasm. 

Now would be the right time to say things are going too far. You bring a hand on top of his, a silent warning for him. But he chooses to ignore it, creeping the other hand under the hem of your top. “Relax, baby. Just focus on danicin’, yeah?” 

This was so different, having a guest take the rails — no, having Toji take control of you. And you don’t dislike it; far from it, actually. If anything, it’s oddly exciting — letting the older man please you as you service him. It’s new and dangerous, especially in your workplace. But, oh my God, you don’t want it to stop.

You wrap your arms around his neck while he puts his back to the booth, using this to change into a different move. With your torso lifted and using your legs to maintain balance, you move your abdomen up and down. While you’re ghosting his groin with wave-like motions, Toji uses his fingers to play with your body. His left middle and forefinger rubs on your cover folds, roughly pressing down on where your clitoris is. A choked sob leaves puffy lips, even when his right hand is in your bra to grope your breast, his thumb swiping on your nipple to harden. 

“Mmmph! Ahhaaa, Toji…”

“Yeah, just like that,” he reassures you. Another tweak to your nipple has you bite your lips with a hum. “Just like that—“

“Am I interrupting something?” 

It took you mere milliseconds to recognize the new voice that enters your space, abruptly interrupting your session with purpose. You’re off of Toji just like that, hurriedly fixing yourself in the presence of your manager. “H–Hello, Mei Mei.”

“Hello there, Y/n.” She says it sweetly, but her words carry a stern connotation. The pale-blue-haired woman has her hair up in a braided ponytail while wearing a simple black split-thigh cami dress with mesh sleeves, and her gold earrings and red lipstick contrast with her pale skin. “Ah, I expected to see you here, too, Mr. Fushiguro.”

Toji greets the women, standing up at his own pace. “It is a Friday, Lady Mei.”

She smiled at the use of her business name; it was appropriate for what she was about to say. “Indeed it is. I decided to come down to check on the place and see how the life of the party was going. And all my guests seemed to be having quite a good time…Minus this one guy, who told me about the ‘scary fucker with a scar on his lip’ who lifted him like a doll and scared him and his buddies to a different table.” 

Toji rubs the back of his neck, chortling with a smug grin. “Hmm, the guy must be some dick.”

“Must be...Now listen, Fushiguro, I know how much of a valuable customer you are, throwing good money at my girls — my girl.” Mei Mei walks to you and places her cold hands on your shoulders. “I’d find it hard to have you not come here anymore for not keeping your hands to yourself. On my customers and my entertainers.”

“That I understand, my Lady,” he sighs at your manager’s lecture and crosses his arms. “But you know how I roll. I just come here to see your girls—“ He stops to shift his gaze on you. “Your sweet girl.”

“And I see you care about them quite a lot, your hand up their bra and your lips on their skin.” 

He shrugs it off. “I’m guilty.”

Mei Mei walks up to the older guest, her light violet eyes locked with his dark jade orbs. “Fushiguro, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid my rules apply to everybody. No touching the dancers. This is a strip club, not a brothel.” 

“Yes, Mei,” He grasps every word thrown at him, his eyes not leaving her feline ones. “It’s just a shame that I’m willin’ to pay whatever to have Y/n privately for one night in those lil’ VIP rooms upstairs.” 

A silver brow is quirked. “Are you trying to throw more money at my face to change the rules for your own convenience?”

“I’m trying to talk business, from one loyal customer to a good businesswoman.” He says nonchalantly, pointing to you with his chin. “That is if they’re up for it.” Now, why did he have to single you out like that? Because your manager turns to you with a patient look, gauging where you stand in this situation. 

It’s a tricky thing to answer: do you want to have sex with your guest that made you feel good minutes ago? This job is supposed to be an easy one, coming here to dance and swing your ass off til the morning sun for good money. Now, on the one night when things get a little too heated – with your favorite customer, mind you – you’re in a conflict. And you have to thank God you didn’t kiss him on the lips! 

However, it’s not like you don’t trust Toji; it’s the opposite. Sure, he can be a cocky bastard; there’s been instances where he’s touched you, but never like tonight. And yet, you didn’t find any danger in it. You were relaxed atop of him, leaning more into his touches. So, the thought that more could come from it is new. Chilling, but thrilling.

Your manager can see the inner turmoil through your face, so she answers in your stead, “Give it some thought for tomorrow, Y/n. And you,” Mei Mei turns back to the man guilty of this predicament. “Learn to behave yourself ’til then.” 

“I will, Lady Mei,” Toji sneers, grabbing for his coat to put on and taking a few bands to give to you. “And I’ll be seein’ you tomorrow, baby.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – divideres from @/cafekitsune.

[obsolescent]

Happy Birthday, Leon

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Summary: As Leon’s assistant, you help keep everything organized for him. One day while arranging some papers on Leon’s desk, you stumble across his birthday. Noticing that it’s only a few weeks away, you begin to prepare a surprise celebration for him, unbeknownst to you how Leon feels about said day.

Author’s Notes: Hey! This was not planned, but I was like oh, wow, the day I headcannon as Leon’s birthday is April 1st…Should I? And so I did lol. This follows a few HCs I have for Leon! I couldn’t sleep anyways and needed something to take my mind off some real life issues occurring, hope you enjoy! (I cut it close with this one lol).

Content Warnings: Angst, mention of losing parents, grief, gender neutral language used for reader, Leon and the reader have ties to the southern United States, fluff, Leon healing his inner child.

Without you around, Leon would surely be running around like a chicken with its head cut off. 

You think about that metaphor and grimace, realizing how dark it actually is. With a shake, you rid your mind of it and resume your task. Leon had to abruptly leave for an important meeting that was called at the last minute. You could hear him bitching about it the whole time while scrambling for the necessary papers for said meeting, and Leon had left his office in complete shambles.

Your smaller office was connected to his, ‘yeah, an office, if you could call it a room even, more like a shoebox,’ and after throwing the door into the wall with a BANG and a rushed “Meeting, be back whenever,” Leon was gone. After settling your heart rate back to its regular rhythm, you had gotten up and checked the wall for any doorknob shaped dents.

Praying to the Lord that the doorstop still does its job after the one thousandth time of being repeatedly smacked, you glanced into his office and stopped. Typically, about once a month you like to help Leon out with his space, straightening things up for him, but this…

‘I don’t know how this man works like this…I can only imagine what his house is like.’

Back in the present and at the task at hand, you start with the papers thrown about the floor, gathering them together. You begin to sort them by the date, noticing that some even have footprints on them! ‘This man…’ you groan, trying to dust the sheets off, only succeeding in smudging the dirt further.

Stacking the documents off to the side, you begin clearing off the top of Leon’s desk, grabbing dirty mugs with old coffee in them and pouring them out in the sink in the kitchenette. You carry a roll of paper towels, disinfectant spray, and a duster back to his office.

Dusting what little trinkets he had on his desk, you run it over his desktop computer and its keyboard. Trying not to apply too much pressure when you start going over the keys, you manage to bump into the mouse, waking the computer from its sleep.

Glancing at the screen, you notice it didn’t lock. ‘He’s like a secret agent or something, right? Why does he not have this locked? Or…Could it be that he doesn't know how to?” You think back on how God awful he is at working any device, having to sometimes ask multiple times a day for help. You let out a puff of air and grin, already thinking about how you’re going to bring it up once he’s back.

Though, something catches your eye on the screen. His personnel file is pulled up.

He isn’t really secretive about his background, more like you never have an opportunity to ask about it. Leon’s mentioned friends and some semblance of a family, and if you try hard enough you can still make out a southern drawl on the tailend of some of his words.

A small peek wouldn’t hurt. 

You bend over, face just a few inches away from the screen, and begin scanning, finding the first one you’re looking for.

‘The southern lilt makes sense now!’ 

Seeing that he comes from a small town, a smile forms on your face, thinking about the stories he could possibly tell you about it, the yapper he is. You store the location into your brain, planning to do your own research later. 

The next one that catches your eye is his date of birth. ‘April Fool’s Day? Oh, poor guy probably got so much shit for that in school. I bet his parents had a hard time convincing their family that he was actually born that day and it wasn’t a prank. Also an Aries, fitting for him’ 

You laugh at your thoughts but freeze, your gaze moving to the small calendar propper up on his desk. 

‘That’s in 3 weeks! Why didn’t he say anything?’

He may not care about it much? Some people, as they get older, don’t hold as much emphasis on things like that. Regardless, you’ll do something for him, it’ll be small and simple, but hopefully it’ll open him up for more discussions about his past, or at least put one of those rare smiles on his face.

You finish cleaning up his office and put away the supplies, brainstorming ideas for the rest of the day.

-

As his birthday gets closer, you sneak in decorations a little at a time, not wanting him to catch onto what you’re planning. The night before the big day, you tell Leon you’ll be staying later to catch up on some paperwork. None the wiser, he nods, going back to his computer screen.

Once he’s left for the day, your plan is set into motion.

You pull out the items stashed in the back of your desk’s drawers, starting with a banner, each letter a different color painted on burlap, spelling out “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”. You tape it to the front of his desk, then move on to the kitchenette. You pull out a tablecover, white with polka dots the same color as the letters on the banner. You set two party hats down on the table, laying out the candles you’ll be putting in his cake–er pie?

Trying nonchalantly to ask about his favorite desserts, he had mentioned he hadn’t had pecan pie in awhile, that it used to be one of his favorites. Thanking your granny for always making one for almost every holiday, you knew that recipe off the top of your head.

You triple checked that it was still in its container in the fridge. ‘It hasn’t grown legs and walked off.’ You giggle at the thought and shut the door, going through the space to check once more on your handiwork. 

Satisfied, you shut the lights off and lock up, a bounce in your step as you walk to your car.

-

You’re up before your alarm screams at you, too excited about today. You head into the office earlier than usual, getting the pie out from the fridge and setting it on the table, sticking the candles in it.

You feel like your body is literally vibrating from excitement, not knowing why you’re so thrilled. 

I mean, yeah you’re throwing a surprise party for Leon, but there’s something else there. Maybe it’s that you get to do something for him? You do feel a bit giddy whenever he thanks you for tidying up his office, his lopsided smile making your own smile turn into a grin.

‘Maybe you have a crush on Leon?”

Oh, it could be that. Dude’s hot, a bit dorky. A flirt, too, even if he doesn’t mean to come off that way. You could see it. You don’t have long to contemplate the thought, hearing his Jeep pull up.

Screaming internally, you rush to grab your party hat and throw it on, turning off the light and moving to stand in the middle of the room.

The door opens with a soft chime. Leon steps into the foyer, muttering, “Why the hell are the lights out?” 

Leon walks into the room and flips the switch, and you scream, “SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LEON!”

You startled him it seems. Leon jumps back, hand hovering over his side before realizing it’s just you, and his hand drops.

‘Damn, he almost pulled his gun on me, maybe that wasn’t the best idea, next time I definitely won’t–’

“How did you know it was my birthday?”

Snatched from your internal monologue, you stare at him. 

He seems…upset?

“Uh, w-well, back a few weeks ago, I was cleaning your office and saw that your file was pulled up, I happened to glance at your birthdate! Also, it totally makes sense, like, of course you’re an Aries. Athletic, brave, charming, stereotypical and…”

You trail off, your rambling dying off at his hardened expression. 

Leon walks towards you. 

He’s not the tallest man, but with the expression on his face along with his body language, you feel minuscule.

You try to ease the tension in the room, by babbling, of course.

“I made you a pie, pecan! Y-you said you hadn’t had it in awhile, and my family makes a really good one, it’s actually my granny’s recipe–” He holds a hand up to silence you.

He walks back to the front door and locks it, before stalking past you into his office.

“Come in and close the door,” he says cooly.

Dread seeps into you, breathing beginning to pick up. ‘Is he going to fire me?’

You take a deep breath and release, turning and walking into his space, closing the door behind you.

You sit in the loveseat in front of his desk. It seems like the banner stares you down as well, seemingly mocking you in this turn of events.

He sits down in his chair and leans back, chin in his hand while he stares off to the side.

You stare at your lap, hands sweaty as you wring them. 

“You have no idea why I don’t celebrate it.” 

Your eyes dart up to look at him, but he’s still staring off, but his expression looks softer now.

You think he’s talking out loud, so you don’t answer, looking down once more. 

“My parents died when I was younger. After they were gone, no one threw me any parties. No more gifts, no more cakes. I couldn't even tell the other kids because they thought I was lying about the date. So I stopped celebrating it. Kept it to myself, until now.”

Your heart hurts for him. The pain behind his words are evident.

“I’m so sorry, Leon,” you blurt out, unable to hold back the wave of emotions, “You deserve to have a happy birthday, with cakes and gifts and all, surrounded by those who care for and love you. I just wanted it to be a good day for you, I didn’t mean to bring back such awful memories.”

You’re a mess, the horrible feeling of guilt filling you, your eyes red with unshed tears. You rise from your seat and walk around to him, and Leon stands up on instinct.

You don’t even care if this isn’t professional at this point. You wrap your arms around his waist and embrace him, your tear soaked face soaking into his button up.

He says your name, “It’s okay, you didn’t know,” he tries to comfort you as best as he can, going to pat your head and disturbs the streamers around the edges of the party hat you’re still wearing. You gasp and pull back, ripping it off and tossing it to the ground.

You apologize again, making your way towards the desk to pull the banner down. You’re pulling the tape off the corner when Leon’s hand stops you.

“Hey.”

Leon says softly, his fingers grasping your wrist, tugging your hand away. 

“You said I deserve to have a happy birthday, don’t I?” He asks, and you jerk your head in a nod, “Of course, yeah.”

He smiles, “Well, there’s always today, it’s still my big day, ain’t it?” 

He walks over and picks up the hat up off the floor, holding it out to you.

“Let’s start with that pie, I’m starvin’.”

[uvobreakmylegs]

Lost in the Shadows

part 3!!! so so sorry for how long the third part of poly!vampire! Uvo x reader x Nobu took but it’s here and I hope everyone enjoys😊

Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: fem!reader, death, gore, blood, murder, captivity, starvation, smut

Word count: 11.4k

….. You were losing it.

However long it had been since you had been taken by them – a few months now? More than that? You had no clue – the mental stress was starting to make you break, and you didn't know how much longer you had until your last semblance of sanity would finally be lost.

They didn't let you go outside, saying it was to protect you from the sun while you were left feeling stir crazy.

They made you stay awake during the nights and sleep during the day while telling you it was most natural for you now.

They didn't let you eat normal food and kept giving you “blood” while insisting that was what it actually was.

They left during the nights, coming back shortly before dawn while smelling heavily like the “blood” they'd been giving you.

They kept insisting that they were vampires.

And they kept insisting that you were one as well.

…...

….. Bullshit.

Vampires aren't real. They're just crazy.

They kept you inside because you were a missing person and they didn't want you to be discovered. Your internal clock was fucked up because they made you wake up at night with them. The packets they gave you obviously had some sort of nutrient in them that was sustaining you. And they returned to you smelling like the contents of those packets because they were living a delusional fantasy and were using that as a way to sell you on it.

But you knew it was all a lie. And you told them that.

They responded by taking away the packets.

Now you were laying between the two, wide awake while they slumbered. They looked like they were dead again, but there were no thoughts of trying to repeat your escape attempt from last time. You felt weak, even more weak than you did the last time you had gone without eating, and you couldn't even move your limbs without great effort, much less gather up the strength to force yourself to stand.

Your limbs were like lead, your skin felt clammy and your mouth was incredibly dry with no hint of moisture whatsoever.

How long had it been since they stopped feeding you? It couldn't have been more than three days, you thought. They hadn't given you any water either, and while a person could survive for a while without food, the max amount of time one could survive without fluids was only three days. So it couldn't have been more than that since you were still alive.

Despite how you thought you had counted them leaving during the nights being more than three times, it wasn't more than that. It couldn't be. You were just confused and mixing up past memories with more recent ones. That was all. They were adamant that they wanted you with them, so they'd give you something sometime soon. All of this was a punishment for holding onto your common sense and not believing in the fantasy they wanted you to live with them.

You kept your gaze on the ceiling, not wanting to look at either of them and be confronted with how they looked dead again.

Maybe they took drugs of some kind which caused them to look that way.

Or maybe they were giving you something that made them appear that way in your mind.

They hadn't given you anything within three days, though.

….. Must've been something in the air. Maybe an incense or something else that was meant to be burned. One that was odorless but still managed to affect your mind. You'd never heard of anything like that before, but it probably existed.

Regardless, it was still a better idea to not look at them or linger on it. They'd messed with your head enough.

So your gaze stayed on the blank ceiling while you tried to imagine what it was like up there. Or rather, what it was like outside. For them to be asleep like they were, it seemed likely that it was sometime during the day. Perhaps the middle of the day. You remembered times when you had woken up in the middle of the night for no reason and this felt similar to that.

What kind of area was the house located?

You tried to think back to what you had seen the day you'd gotten out, and all you remembered from what you'd seen in the backyard was a wooded area and a house beyond that. But other than that, you weren't sure.

Maybe you could hear the sounds from the outside if you closed your eyes and focused. It wouldn't do much to get you out of here but maybe you could discern more about your location that way, maybe figure out if there was anyone else in the are who could possibly help you.

So you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the area above you and not the low hum that came from the electronics kept down here and the fact that you couldn't hear any breathing coming from either Nobu or Uvo.

As soon as you did that, something from within the house in the floors above you caught your attention.

…. Music.

You heard music.

It didn't sound loud enough to be someone practicing an instrument, so it was a recording.

Shalnark was listening to something, then.

You noted the sound of the saxophone playing prominently on the track. It was probably from the 80's, then. People from that time couldn't get enough of the saxophone.

You couldn't blame them. It was a good instrument.

As you lay there listening, you felt some of your stress ebbing away. Not completely – you were still stuck with delusional kidnappers – but enough that you felt some of the tension leave you. Enough that you could momentarily ignore how hungry and weak you felt.

You were grateful you couldn't hear Uvogin or Nobunaga breathing in that moment: just that small bit of noise from the both of them would've been a constant reminder to you of where you were. At least with the almost complete silence that was in the basement, you were allowed to focus on the song being played above you without any interruptions, and therefore allowed you a small bit of peace as you let your mind drift and take yourself away from that spot in the basement.

After all that you'd been through, you deserved a momentary refuge.

The moment ended far too soon.

A door crashed open, bringing you out of the calm mood you'd only just managed to achieve. Your eyes snapped open as you heard something being dragged across the floor upstairs. Something large. Something that was moving as it was pulled.

And when it stopped just above the space where you were laying, you heard muffled noises that sounded similar to a voice that was unable to be heard clearly due to some obstruction.

At some point during all of this, the music was stopped.

There was a moment of silence, and then a snarl.

Then the muffled voice tried to scream.

What followed were sounds that were horrific: teeth that bit into flesh as easily as a knife cutting into butter and a strong jaw that held on tightly as whatever it was that had been bitten began to thrash. The muffled voice became louder for only a short moment before something was ripped out. The only noise that came after was a strained wheezing sound that could barely be heard over the noise of breaking bones, meat being torn apart and the constant clacking of a dog's nails on the hardwood floor that went around in circles over whatever had been placed on the floor above you.

The sounds were awful and you wanted to scream for whatever was happening up there to stop.

But any attempt at that was halted when the smells drifted down to you.

Iron.

The same metallic smell that the packets had, yet somehow it smelled..... Fresher? You couldn't describe how you could tell such a thing, that was just the sense you got.

It was what you would smell on Nobu and Uvo when they would come back, you realized.

To your horror, you realized that your mouth was watering, and the pit you could feel in your stomach became even more noticeable. You were starving, and now when you heard the way the meat above you was being ripped off the bone, it only sent more pangs of hunger through you.

Whatever it was up there, you wanted it.

Your teeth bit down on your lower lip as you tried to rationalize what exactly those thoughts were.

But you quickly opened your mouth when you felt far more pain than you were expecting.

When had your teeth become so sharp?

“Sounds pretty gruesome.”

The sound of his voice had you looking over to Uvogin, finding him to be awake and staring at the ceiling as well. The smirk on his face made it seem like he was amused by what he was hearing.

“Shal must be pissed off pretty bad if he was willing to do this during the day,” he added.

…. By 'Shal' he meant.... Shalnark? Shalnark was the one causing all of this?

….. Who was playing the music earlier?

That question was put to the side as Uvogin looked back to you, asking “how are you feeling?”

You couldn't bring yourself to answer, too confused by what was happening upstairs and your reaction to it. Luckily Uvo didn't seem offended by it and went with a different line of questioning.

He motioned to the ceiling with his head as he asked “what do you make of that?”

“... Make of what?”

“What we're hearing,” he said, “what Shal's doing up there; how does that make you feel?”

You looked back to the ceiling and listened, finding that a lot of the sounds had died down by now but the smell was still strong. Whatever had been dragged in was dead now, out of the torment it had gone through.

Something was still up there eating, though.

And as you heard more meat being ripped away and chomped on, only one word went through your mind:

Hungry

“Really?”

You realized you had said that out loud when you heard him say that. Uvo sat up slightly, seeming a bit excited as he said “you aren't put off by all of that?”

“I…. I am,” you answered.

He raised an eyebrow.

“But you said you were hungry.”

“I didn't say that,” you told him, “I didn't say anything.”

“I heard you.”

“No you didn't. You made up your own answer in your head.”

Uvogin stayed quiet for a moment after you said that.

Then he sighed.

“Guess it'll still be a bit before we take you out to feed you,” he said as he settled back down.

The thought of going any longer without any sustenance immediately had you in a panic, and there was enough adrenaline in you to make you flip to your side and grab at his arm.

“I'll die if this goes on any longer,” you said, “please, you need to give me something. I don't wanna starve. I'm sorry. I'll believe whatever you tell me to, so please give me-”

“Quiet down.”

The instant he said that you snapped your mouth shut. Your hands remained on his arm, however, still gripping him with the limited amounts of strength you had left.

“You're not gonna starve,” he told you, “we'll feed you, but you need to be in the right mindset for it otherwise we'll have a mess on our hands.”

“If I don't get anything soon I'm-”

“I said quiet.”

You shut your mouth again, and this time there was something in your mind that told you not to speak unless he said it was okay. You didn't want to listen to that but you felt that you had no choice in the matter.

“Just wait a bit longer,” he continued, “when you're finally ready to accept it, you'll be given what you need.”

His gaze softened slightly when he glanced over and saw how you looked ready to cry, and it seemed like he was trying to console you when he reached over to caress your cheek.

His touch didn't do anything to soothe you. All it really did was make you more upset that he would pretend to be caring and you wanted to call him out on it.

But he told you to be quiet, so you didn't say anything.

“You know, this wouldn't be happening if you weren't in denial,” said Uvogin.

You wanted to protest. You weren't in denial, you just lived in the real world where things like vampires and hellhounds didn't exist, because believing in things like that were for little children, superstitious old people and people who weren't mentally well.

But an internal voice repeated his previous order yet again: be quiet.

Uvo leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead before he told you “close your eyes and go back to sleep. Nobu had a rough time last night and I don't wanna deal with him being annoyed if we wake him up early.”

You didn't want to sleep. You wanted him and Nobu to do the right thing and let you out of here.

But in the same way that you had stopped talking, you closed your eyes when he told you to, much to Uvogin's amusement as he chuckled while mumbling something about you being “almost there.”

By the time you managed to get to sleep, the smell from upstairs was starting to fade away.

It felt like it had been much longer than three days at this point, and by now you were too tired to even attempt to rationalize how you were still alive. It was too much effort to think back on how long it had been since that day you and Uvo spoke, too much effort to try and count back the days to the best of your ability.

Anything that didn't involve you laying curled up on your side on the mattress was too much effort.

Your stomach had never felt more empty, and there was a pain that ran through your whole body every time that emptiness made itself known.

You truly felt like you were at death's door.

And apparently it was only then that the two of them decided to do something about it.

That night, there wasn't any explanation when they dragged you up off of the mattress and up the basement steps, though Uvogin ended up needing to wrap an arm around your waist and carry you up when you had difficulty navigating the stairs. Despite it being the first time they had taken you out of the basement, there were no thoughts of escape. You didn't have the strength in you to try and wrench your arm out of the grip Uvo had on it. Instead, you were taken out to where the dented pickup truck sat. Nobunaga took his place in the driver's seat. Uvo placed you back in the truck bed before joining you there.

They didn't say anything about what was happening.

You didn't question it, either.

The air was fresh and the sky was painted in different shades of red and orange that would soon turn dark once the sun finished setting. The last time you would've seen something like this would've been the night they took you, yet you immediately turned your head away once you caught sight of the light from the horizon. Looking at it hurt. And you soon found yourself pressing up against Uvo and trying to hide behind his form as if that would protect you from any burning pain the light would bring.

Uvogin gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Nobunaga started up the truck, and your hands went to your ears as you found the truck's engine to be unusually loud. It only got louder when the truck began to move and the wheels began to move over the surface of the pavement and for the first few minutes during this journey, you sat with your hands over your ears.

Uvogin still didn't say anything, but eventually you were able to tolerate all the noise a bit better. To the point that you were able to take your hands away. And when nearly all traces of the setting sun had slowly disappeared below the horizon, you felt comfortable enough to pull away from Uvo.

You had felt a similar pain and weakness when you'd gotten out that time, you recalled.

…. Probably because of how long they'd kept you inside.

How much therapy would you need in order to get back to normal if you were ever able to escape them? Probably more than you'd be able to afford.

You weren't sure how long you were on the road: after a while your weakness had you feeling like you were drifting in and out of consciousness and you couldn't focus on anything. You had no clue what Nobu was doing aside from driving, but in the moments when you had a better grip on your surroundings, you sensed Uvogin looking down at you. Maybe he was wondering why you weren't asking any questions about what was happening.

Was this a further punishment for what you'd said the other day? And where exactly were they taking you?

Not wanting to try and raise your voice to speak to Uvo over the sound of the truck, you kept quiet, figuring that there needed to be an explanation at some point.

When exactly the truck had stopped, you couldn't say. All you knew was in one moment, Uvogin had hopped out of the bed of the truck and had turned to you, motioning for you to follow. When you didn't do that, he held out his hand to you as he said “c'mon, babe. Get out.”

You responded to that order without hesitance, moving over and taking his hand so he could pull you out.

You stood on unsteady legs when he let you go, and for a moment you felt like you were going to fall over. That was when a different pair of hands grabbed you by your shoulders, and you turned your head to find Nobunaga holding you steady as he looked down at you.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Ready?” you repeated.

You cringed a little after you heard your own voice – it sounded so raspy and terrible.

“I think it's better you not say anything,” Uvo said to Nobunaga, “she might put up a fight otherwise.”

“True,” Nobu replied to him. Then he gave you a pat on the shoulder as he said “okay, let's go.”

This time he was the one to take ahold of your wrist and pull you behind him while Uvogin took the lead.

Where were they taking you?

Looking ahead as you thought that, you were surprised when you saw an area full of buildings and people. Somehow you hadn't noticed that the three of you weren't alone until now. Families, couples and groups of friends were spread out along a line of shops that faced a boardwalk overlooking the ocean. The fact that you were next to a body of water also only became apparent to you once you looked over and saw it, and the sounds of the waves and the smell of the ocean breeze hit you immediately after.

Why had they brought you here? Especially when they had kidnapped you. Shouldn't they be worried about one of the many people here possibly recognizing you? There were so many potential witnesses, so many cameras that were taking pictures as the three of you got closer, and when you looked back to the shops, you saw that most of them had security cameras at the front. All it would take was one person, either here on the boardwalk or later on looking at footage taken of tonight, to recognize you and pass that information on to the authorities. Why would they take such a risk after keeping you hidden for as long as they did?

“What'll you do if someone realizes who I am?” you asked. Your voice had been barely more than a whisper, but Nobu had heard you regardless, turning his head as he answered you.

“Why would someone know you?” he asked.

“Because.... You kidnapped me, so I must've been listed as a missing person, right?”

Nobunaga smiled at you.

“I wouldn't worry about anything like that,” he told you, “just focus on what we're doing now.”

“What are we doing now?” you asked.

“Just wait and see.”

….. You didn't like that answer.

The three of you walked along the edge of the boardwalk closest to the beach, passing by an increasing number of people the longer you went. Those who bothered to glance in your direction mostly took a quick look at Uvogin before turning their gaze away and were gone too fast before you could try to get their attention.

All it would take would be for one person to raise the alarm and you'd have a crowd of people who would surely come to help you. If only someone would notice the pleading glances you sent in the direction of any and all who passed you by.

Help was so close.

But no one was paying attention to you.

You could hear all of them clearly, though.

Some of the people who ignored you were speaking, and you caught snippets of conversations amid bits of music that came from speakers from inside the various shops. The people you heard were talking a little louder than what would've been normal, probably because the sheer number of people present forced them to speak louder in order to be heard. But to you it sounded like they were yelling.

The electric glow of the lights and the amount of them that dotted the area of the walkway were also having a negative effect on you, and soon after you needed to avert your eyes and watch your shoes as Nobunaga continued to lead you along.

This was strange, you thought to yourself. Things had been difficult initially on the car ride but you'd gotten over it; why were things getting worse for you now?

A gust of wind carried the ocean breeze your way, and suddenly you were hit by an overwhelming scent of salt. In that moment it was all you could smell and the strength of the scent combined with how sudden it was caused you to feel weak at the knees as it made you want to throw up.

The meager strength in your legs finally left you and you fell to the ground.

Too much.

The smells, the lights and incessant noise that came pouring out of every inch of the boardwalk that caused a pounding to consistently pulse through your skull was quickly tearing down your last shreds of sanity. Everything felt wrong; you'd been kept isolated for far too long of a time and now entering a place like a busy boardwalk had you wanting to crack open your own skull in the hopes that it would relieve you from the way everything was overwhelming you completely. The lights were too bright, the different smells were too strong, even the surface you were sitting on felt wrong against your skin, the texture of the wood sending an unpleasant twitch running through your whole body anytime you shifted slightly on top of it.

And then the noise.

It almost sounded like you could pick out every individual voice that was currently speaking. Any and all words from dozens and dozens of interchangeable conversations seemed to be in competition with each other just so they could reach your ears:

A child was crying about a toy of theirs that had fallen off the edge of the fence and down into the water while their parent scolded them for putting the toy in such a spot in the first place.

A group of women were ganging up on a single man and accusing him of cheating on his girlfriend and talking over him when he tried to defend himself.

A man was on the phone with someone and was quickly becoming aggressive with whoever was on the other end.

And outside of the voices, the noises of the environment were getting to you as well. Beneath you, you could hear the ocean waves beneath the boards you were sitting on, lapping against the beach and pulling back with it several hundred individual grains of sand before the process was repeated. And above you, you heard the humming of the lights of the shops and lampposts, the electric currents buzzing in your ears despite how far away they were.

And above all of that were the sounds of what you could only describe as being a drumming noise. Multiple drumming noises, in fact, dozens of them, all out of sync with each other and when combined with all of the voices, sounded like a garbled mess that only further assaulted your ears.

Too much too much too much

You wanted to leave. You'd be more than happy to go back to that house as long as you could find peace within the silence after.

Never would you have thought that you'd want to return to the basement they'd been keeping you in for months, but now you were longing for that. To run off to that space and never go near people ever again.

What would your captors think if you shared those thoughts with them?

Nobunaga saying your name broke through the noise of the other voices, and you looked up to find him kneeling in front of you, both hands on your shoulders while he looked concerned. Uvogin was standing next to him, and while he also appeared concerned, he didn't seem as worried as Nobunaga.

“Can you hear me?” Nobu asked you.

You gave him a small nod.

“Alright, then we can keep going,” Uvogin said.

Nobu gave him an annoyed look as he said “we can't keep going as she is right now. We need to take her back.”

“She needs to learn how to hunt and feed,” Uvo countered.

“What kind of hunting do you think she'll be able to do like this? She's helpless.”

“She's not. Once we find suitable prey for her, it'll kick in and she'll do the rest.”

“You keep saying that, but what exactly can she do when she's in this state?” Nobunaga asked.

“She's starving, and that'll make her desperate,” Uvogin stated.

He looked back to you as he smiled, saying “desperation pushes people to do things they might not do otherwise.”

You weren't able to focus on what he meant by that, the pain in your head so great that you had a hard time thinking too deeply.

They continued to bicker while you kept your hands on your ears, trying your hardest to will the pain away. You still caught bits and pieces of what they were saying, and you were struck by how were they able to talk about such things in front of all these people. They spoke of you hunting someone down, and there were really no one among those who passed you by who didn't catch at least some of the conversation and find it to be odd?

“Is she okay?”

A woman's voice interrupted your thoughts, and when you looked back up you found a blonde woman in a baggy blue shirt appearing to be concerned as she looked down at you.

She spoke to Uvo and Nobu again as she asked “should I call an ambulance?”

Uvogin stepped forward as he said “it's nothing too serious. She's just a little lightheaded and overwhelmed. But she'll be fine if we can find a quiet spot for her to calm down.”

“Do you want to take her to the back?” the woman asked, pointing at a shop that sat opposite of you.

She continued with “I'm the manager there. My office is pretty small, but you're welcome to use it if you want.”

“That sounds great. Thanks.”

The woman smiled at Uvo as she said “here, follow me.”

She waited as Nobunaga helped you back up to your feet, and when your eyes met hers, she smiled at you as well.

Panic was starting to course through you as the three of you followed her into the shop and headed towards the back.

What were they going to do to her?

The air conditioner that was running within the small space of the manager's office was a little too loud and you could still hear noise from the outside, but it was preferable over going back out to the boardwalk.

You were sat down on a creaky office chair that sat behind a small desk, and the woman once again asked Uvo and Nobu if they wanted her to call an ambulance. When they once more assured her that it wasn't necessary, she told you she'd be back with some water.

The two of them stood by quietly as she left, not saying anything to you even after she left the room.

….. The drumming noise had largely gone away, you noted.

Them being so quiet felt strange, and after a few more moments you felt compelled to ask “what are we doing here?”

“What do you mean? She invited us in,” Nobunaga said.

“But why did you agree? What are you going to do?” you asked, your voice sounding more raspy the more you spoke.

“Us? We're not doing anything,” Uvo said, “that's all on you.”

You didn't get a chance to ask what he meant by that when the woman came back in, carrying a cup of water that she held out for you to take.

You managed to mumble out a “thank you” as you accepted it, though when you took a small sip, you found that it didn't offer any sort of relief. Your mouth was still dry and you felt just as disoriented as you had when you first entered the office.

“If you feel like you're going to faint I want you to lay down on the floor,” the woman told you, “I don't want to see you hurt yourself by falling.”

You nodded, though you only vaguely heard what she had said to you as you noticed you could hear that drumming again. It was only a single drum beat this time and much more tolerable than it had been outside. Strangely, it seemed to get louder when the woman got closer to you.

You took a longer sip of your water, hoping that if you finished the whole cup you would finally feel some feeling of refreshment.

You got down to halfway and you still felt thirsty.

“You feeling any better?” she asked you.

You nodded 'yes', but the answer couldn't be further from the truth. Evidently you weren't a good enough liar as she didn't seem to believe you and asked “are you sure?”

She leaned down as she said that, moving to place a hand on your forehead.

The way she was about to touch you probably should've gotten your attention, but instead your eyes were drawn to the glint of something golden around her neck. You were then transfixed on the charm of her necklace: a carousel. One that was largely a golden color save for the white and pink detailing on the three horses that adorned the small piece of jewelry. Taking in the detail that had been put into the charm, you found yourself thinking it was cute.

You paid attention to that fact more than when she spoke again.

“Honey, you're freezing! What happened to you?”

Her voice had been more panicked that time and when you didn't respond, she turned her head towards Uvogin, who had now moved so he was partially blocking the door.

The way she turned her head gave you a clear view of the expanse of her neck, and suddenly your eyes were fixed on that.

The drumming was picking up again, and as you looked at the vein in her neck, you almost felt as though you could hear the blood rushing through it.

Nobunaga was standing behind her, and you were able to note when he straightened slightly when he saw the way you were looking at her, standing stiff as he stared intently at you.

How long you sat there staring at her neck you had no clue, but she still had her head turned towards Uvo, not at all noticing where your attention was.

Your teeth become sharp again, just like they had that day when Shalnark killed something above you, and the sudden sharpness of your teeth almost penetrating your lower lip had you opening your mouth slightly.

The drumming became louder and faster and you were vaguely aware of the way she asked Uvogin why he wasn't answering her.

The cup she had given you fell from your hands and clattered to the floor.

That was when something inside of you snapped.

You surged forward and bit down on her neck.

… For a brief moment, the only thing you heard was the constant noise coming from the the air conditioner.

Everyone else was silent.

She didn't react at first. She just stood there, probably in shock, not understanding what you were doing. Why you had decided to sink your unusually sharp teeth into her throat.

When the blood began to drip from the bite wound was when it finally clicked for her.

Her hands were on you, pulling at your hair and hitting your head, desperately trying to pull you off of her as she demanded to know what the fuck was wrong with you and for you to let her go. She tried to pull away by standing up, but your hands and teeth were clamped onto her with a strength you didn't even know you had and all she did was pull you up with her.

The drumming had sped up with barely any space between beats.

She moved to hit you again but was stopped when Uvogin grabbed her arms from behind and kept her still for you.

Then she tried to scream for help, but that was also stopped when Nobunaga stepped over and placed his hand over her mouth to silence her.

It seemed that was the moment where she realized she was truly helpless.

Tears were running down her face while she began to sob against his hand. You could sense the way she was looking at the door, knowing that there were people out in the shop who could put an end to this if just one of them went to the manager's office and raised the alarm.

No moment like that ever came.

And as you drank more of her blood, she became weaker. Suddenly she wasn't able to struggle as much and her muffled cries for help became softer. When or how you both ended up on the floor you weren't sure, but you became aware that you were straddling her while your mouth remained on her neck.

“Please stop,” you heard her croak out.

But you didn't pay attention. It was like you had blinders on, focused only on having your fill. Once you got what you wanted, then you'd be able to turn your attention to other things.

By now, the drumming had slowed down drastically.

Then it felt like you had reached a limit, and like you had been in a trance, you snapped out of your state of bloodlust, quickly pulling yourself off of the woman's throat.

You weren't sure if you had accidentally bitten down again or if your teeth had gotten stuck in her skin, but you heard a tearing sound as you pulled off of her, and when you looked back down, you saw that you had managed to rip off a chunk of her flesh that was still stuck to your teeth.

There was blood covering the entirety of her neck, and it continued to flow out of the two holes you had punctured into her skin that was aided by the massive one you had torn into her throat. Soon the area around her neck and head began to fill up with the blood that was draining out of her throat, expanding out on the office floor while her breathing became harsher.

The flesh that had still been in your teeth fell out at that point, landing on her chest and directly on top of her necklace that you had been admiring only moments earlier.

She was looking up at you, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at you with a mix of confusion and shock. She wasn't vocalizing it, likely because she wasn't capable of it, but you knew the question that she wanted to ask:

Why?

You didn't have an answer.

You wondered if that was how you looked on that night, when Uvogin bit you while Nobunaga continued to fuck you. You remembered how utterly helpless and at their mercy you had been. And now you were in the position they had been in, and there was no other emotion you could feel besides unrelenting guilt.

“Sorry.”

You said that in a whisper, and at first you weren't sure if she had heard it. Evidently she did, based off of the look of disgust that formed on her face. She tried to spit at you, though all she accomplished was coughing up blood onto her chin.

She turned her attention back to the door, where she had hoped help would come through for her, and with what seemed to be the last of her strength, she reached an arm out towards it, her fingers straining as though she thought she could get someone's attention that way. Like help could still come for her and she could still be saved.

And not long after her eyes glazed over and her arm fell back to the office floor.

The drumming had stopped.

She was dead.

A woman lay dead beneath you.

….

… You killed this person.

And as the blood pool around her head got bigger, you sat still, looking at her: her unfocused eyes that shined from the artificial lights above you, her mouth that was slightly agape and her tongue that you could see resting against her teeth, the blood coming from her neck that was finally starting to slow down, and her chest that stayed still as she was no longer breathing.

The image of your high school friend came back to mind, just as it had with Nobu and Uvo, and you were struck by the feeling of just how fake she looked in that moment.

Yet only moments ago she'd been alive.

How long would she stay in that state? How long would it take before her body would start to decompose and the insects would find their way to her so they could feed and place their eggs inside of her? And how long would her body decay in this room before she was discovered?

You sat there, looking at the dead person that lay beneath you.

….. You had no explanation for what you had just done.

A large, rough hand grabbed your chin and forced your head up.

Uvogin's lips mashed against yours in a rough kiss as he pulled you close to him, causing you to shift slightly on top of the woman. Your knee ended up pressing against her stomach, and that was enough to force whatever air was left inside of her to come exhaling out.

Uvogin didn't care and continued to kiss you.

He finally pulled away, and when he did, you saw blood smeared all over his lips. He didn't care about that, either.

“You did so good,” he breathed, “I couldn't be prouder.”

He smiled as he glanced behind you, saying “right, Nobu?”

You followed his gaze to where Nobunaga stood, and found the black haired man was staring at you once again. Upon hearing Uvo's question, he nodded before he knelt down and kissed you on the forehead, patting your hair after.

All the while you were still on top of that poor woman's corpse.

Luckily for you, things didn't go any further than the kissing, as Nobu pulled you back to your feet while he told Uvogin “we shouldn't linger for too long. You wanna take care of the employees or should I?”

“I'll take care of it,” Uvo answered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while saying “clean her up and then let's get going.”

With the majority of the blood that had been on his mouth now smeared across the back of his hand, Uvo walked through the door of the office and back out into the shop area.

Your attention was brought back to Nobu when he knelt back down over the body of the woman. Why he was doing that became apparent when you heard the sound of cloth tearing and he stood back up with a piece of the woman's blue shirt in his hand. He seemed pleased as he began to wipe at your mouth with the cloth, gently holding your chin up with one hand while attempting to soak up the excess blood with the cloth in the other.

“..... What just happened?” you asked him.

Your voice no longer sounded terrible. And you noted that you no longer felt terrible, either. Oddly enough, you felt refreshed, feeling a strength you weren't used to and not at all weak like you'd been earlier.

Nobunaga smiled as he said “you had your first true meal as a vampire.”

…... You didn't know what to say to that.

So you said nothing, allowing him to finish cleaning you up as best as he was able. The blood-soaked bit of shirt was tossed aside after, and he knelt down one last time to grab something else from the body of the woman. Meanwhile, you were trying to process this information, trying to figure out why you no longer felt like death and why your senses were no longer overwhelming you to the point that you felt like fainting. You felt normal again.

Better than normal, actually.

“Alright, let's go.”

Nobunaga grabbed your hand once more as he said that, and just like earlier, you followed along when he pulled you behind him. Both of you left that room without looking at the body – whatever Nobu's reasons were, you didn't know, but you couldn't stand to look at what you had done again.

Uvogin was waiting for the two of you at the entrance of the shop, and the three of you made your way out without any questions from the two other workers that were present in the shop, both having a far-off look in their eyes when you glanced over at them.

The outside was far more tolerable now, and the three of you walked back to the truck without incident.

Nobu took his place in the driver's seat while you and Uvogin ended up in the truck bed, and for a moment relief filled you, that you'd finally go back and get further away from the crime scene left behind at that shop.

“Are we going back?” you asked.

“Not yet.”

“.... I'd like to go back.”

“Don't be so selfish,” Uvogin chided, “you've gotten your fill, but we haven't eaten yet, remember?”

“.... Sorry.”

You wrapped your arms around your knees as you mumbled out that brief apology. Luckily Uvo didn't seem too annoyed, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you close to him.

“Don't worry,” he told you, “you don't need to do anything else tonight. We'll go back after we feed.”

“.... Are more people going to die?”

“Don't ask stupid questions, babe.”

The motor of the truck roared as it turned on, and the conversation ended.

You could tell where you were before opening your eyes when you awoke once more, the stagnant air that you had become more than accustomed to a dead giveaway. It wasn't a surprise anymore to wake up in that basement, laying on the mattresses in between the two men who called you their lover.

Uvogin had an arm laying on top of you, and when you looked to Nobunaga, you saw he was laying on his side as well, facing you with one hand stretched out towards you, just barely grazing your skin. There was something soft that you were holding, and you found that it was the cat plush. Either one of them had placed it in your arms or you had managed to reach out for it in your sleep.

One of them giving it to you would've been sweet if the circumstances had been different.

Such as the fact that you had killed a person last night.

… No.

There had been a second one.

The memories of how the previous night had ended were coming back: you remembered how Nobu had driven the three of you down a dimly lit trail that led to a beach that seemed relatively secluded. There was some sort of party happening, one where the many people who had been gathered had put together a large bonfire that illuminated nearly all of the beach.

You had still wanted to return to the house so you stayed with the truck. To their credit, they didn't push you to get out. The reason they had gone to that beach was just for themselves; you had only been along for the ride.

You didn't know how the altercation started; your gaze had stayed on your lap while your mind went over everything that had happened that evening. You only noticed something was wrong when you heard raised voices that had been directed at your captors. When you looked up to where they stood, surrounded by a group of angry-looking men, you witnessed the moment where one of them smashed a beer bottle over Nobunaga's head, glass and cheap alcohol raining down on him.

Uvo grabbed the man who hit Nobu and ripped his arm off in retaliation.

The sickening sounds of muscle and bone being ripped apart seemed to echo within the area of the beach as the group there stood stunned for a few moments, all of them trying to comprehend what exactly had just happened. The man who hit Nobu was also silent at first, watching the blood that was spurting from his empty shoulder socket. When he began to scream was when it clicked for everyone else that was there.

And then everything went to hell.

The air of the beach that had been filled with music and laughter quickly filled up with panicked screaming as the two vampires attacked anyone and everyone that was present. They tore out the throats those who tried to run away, keeping them from screaming, before they moved onto the ones who were getting further away. People who made it to the outskirts of the beach were dragged back and were torn apart as the two drank from the open wounds before their victims were haphazardly tossed aside and left to bleed out.

They didn't intend for any to leave that beach alive.

One of the men who saw you sitting in the truck ran up to you and tried to pull you out, shouting at you that you needed to run or else you'd die, too. He was a man who was clearly decent as he took the time to try and help what he thought was a woman who had been stunned by the massacre before her.

But when he got you to the edge of the truck bed, that urge that had compelled you to kill the woman from earlier came back and you latched your mouth onto his neck. The two of you fell to the ground below as you began to suck the life out of him.

It took some time before you pulled yourself off of him, after he stopped struggling and his arms fell limply to his sides.

And when you looked down at him after you'd fed, you found a similar sight in the way the blood pooled around his head just like it had the woman from earlier.

And that was it. That was where your memory ended.

It was probably for the best that was the case.

And now you were back here, in the place you had been for what must've been months, once more laying between two criminals. They were kidnappers, murderers and.....

….. You didn't want to think about the last thing. After all of your insistence that they were delusional, you didn't want to admit that you were wrong and they'd been telling the truth the entire time.

Fucking vampires.

At least you felt a lot better now. A miniscule comfort, all things considered, but it was a welcome change after all that time you had spent feeling like you were teetering between life and death.

….. And now what?

Go back to this existence that you'd been dragged into? Stay with Uvo and Nobu and go out to hunt people when you needed to feed?

Kill people just so you could continue your existence indefinitely?

Your brain was slow to pick up on what that last thought said about you. Or rather, a certain amount of acceptance of the things they had told you. Things that you had vehemently argued against.

Because even with all of your denials, it was hard to explain what had happened with you and those two people in any other way than what they had claimed.

Despite Uvogin's arm being on top of you, you sat upright, staring blankly at the space in front of you as you went over the events of the previous night once more in your head.

You had bitten them. Your canines had grown sharp enough so they could break through skin, and you had drained both of your victims of so much of blood that they died from the blood loss.

You could still see them both: the kind woman who had been worried about you on the floor of the managers office, and the equally kind man who didn't want to see you die on the beach.

And the large portion of blood that had pooled around both of their heads.

But just as large of a portion was what you had fed on.

…....

You didn't want to be down here anymore.

With that thought in mind, you pushed Uvo's arm aside and stood, still carrying the cat plush as you headed towards the stairs.

This time there wasn't any attempt on your part to keep quiet, yet you were barely making any sound as you made your way over. It was more proof that they were right, and therefore it was something else that you didn't want to think about.

It was when you reached the door and opened it that you heard a low voice in the basement saying your name, but you ignored it as you shut the door behind you.

It didn't feel like it had been all that long ago that you'd attempted that escape where you only ended up getting as far as the backyard. And as you remembered which direction the door to the outside had been, you noticed movement from the corner of your eye.

You saw the same dog you had encountered on that day, standing in the kitchen as he stared at you. But you blinked once and suddenly Shalnark had taken the dog's place. There was a small smile on his face, but his voice had a hint of warning in it as he asked you “where are you going?”

After a moment, you answered “nowhere.”

“Really? Because it looks like you're trying to get away again,” he said as you continued to walk to the door.

“I'm just going outside.”

You heard him hum to himself, but he didn't do anything to stop you.

But just as you got to the door, you stopped as you remembered what you had heard happen above you on a day that also hadn't felt very long ago. When something had been dragged inside and ripped to pieces.

You looked back to him as you asked “did you kill someone?”

“Hm? You mean in here?”

You nodded.

Shalnark laughed as he explained “some little shit kept throwing balls into the backyard as an excuse to get back there and try to see inside the house. I finally had enough of his snooping so I put an end to it.”

“...... Oh.”

You turned back to the door, continuing on your way outside. Shalnark still didn't do anything to stop you.

“Well, if you do try something, you won't make it far,” he said, “it sounds like they're coming up to get you.”

He was referring to the movement that you could hear coming from the floor beneath you. Someone else heading to the stairs.

Shalnark began to say something else, but you ignored it as you stepped outside and onto the covered porch.

The last time you had come out this way, it had felt refreshing. But now it didn't feel quite the same. Though the fresh air was still welcome, it was the sight of the sunlight hitting the grass beyond the porch that had you feeling apprehensive. You remembered when you had gone running out and became weak the instant the sunlight touched your skin, the strength in your limbs failing you as you were forced to crawl across the yard before you were brought back inside. While you got a sense that you wouldn't immediately fall over if you were to step out into the light now, you found that you didn't want to do that. Voices at the back of your mind that you didn't recall being there before warned that your strength would deplete rapidly if you did that.

Despite those voices, you walked to the very edge of the porch, and with the cat plush still held in one arm, you reached out with your free hand, intending on holding it out in the sunlight to see what would happen if the light touched your skin.

“If you're so curious, you can just ask what'll happen if you do that.”

That was Nobunaga's voice.

You turned your head to find him leaning against the open doorway. While he looked a bit tired, he didn't appear to be overly concerned about you being out here. Either he was confident that you wouldn't run, or he was confident that he could catch you if you were dumb enough to try again.

“... What will happen if the sunlight touches me?” you asked as you pulled your hand back.

“It'll sting a bit, and your energy will deplete faster. Although, since you fed off of two people last night, it'll take a while before it's as bad as it was last time,” he explained, “you'd last a bit longer before you'd get back to the point where you'd burn up.”

“Just from the sun hitting me?”

“Yeah.”

You took another look at the backyard before taking a small step back from the edge of the porch.

The door swung closed as Nobu fully stepped outside.

“Doesn't look like you're trying very hard to escape,” he said.

“I'm not trying to,” you replied.

“So you just came up to test how you'd do in the sun?”

“Not really,” you said, “I just wanted to sit outside for a little bit.”

For a moment after your answer, he didn't respond.

And when he spoke again, it was with a simple “okay.”

Then Nobunaga moved, easily closing the short distance between the two of you so he could sit down in the middle of the porch.

And when you looked back to him, he motioned for you to sit down as well, patting the area next to him.

The last memory you had of him before you woke up today was of him ripping a person's jaw off, you recalled.

You did what he wanted.

The both of you sat quietly for some time, looking out at the greenery in the backyard while a soft breeze blew past and moved about the leaves of the wooded area at the very back of the property. You found yourself trying to visualize where you had fallen in the yard when you had tried to run when you were distracted by the clicking sounds of a lighter, and you looked over to find Nobunaga lighting up a cigarette.

He noticed you staring and held out the packet of cigarettes to offer you one. You shook your head in response.

“You've never smoked at the house before,” you commented.

“Shal hates the smell,” he answered, “so the rule is that we can smoke all we want but never inside the house.”

You nodded in understanding, and then things turned quiet between the two of you once more.

This time, however, that moment of quiet didn't last as long as Nobu pulled the cigarette away from his lips and asked “what made you come out here?”

“.... I killed someone last night,” you said.

“You killed two people,” he corrected.

You didn't reply to that, and after a moment you got the sense that he realized that wasn't the correct thing to say.

He cleared his throat before he spoke again.

“It might feel weird at first,” Nobu began, “but soon enough you won't even think about it.”

“I won't think about it?” you repeated.

“No.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“Well, yeah,” he answered, “I've been at this for a while.”

… How long was 'a while' for him?

And then a new question came to mind: had he once been in the same position as you?

“Do you remember your first kill?” you asked.

Nobunaga blinked in surprised, then leaned back on both hands as he looked up at the ceiling. You could see him trying to recall the memory.

“.... No,” he eventually said.

“No?”

“That was a long time ago now.”

“How long?”

“Couple hundred years, probably.”

“Oh.....”

At some other point in time, you would've disregarded what he had said as more delusions on his part.

You weren't as inclined to do so now.

Nobunaga's hand was on your shoulder then, and he pulled you in closer as he whispered to you “I know it seems tough now, but it'll get easier the more time goes on. Alright?”

“..... I don't want to hurt people,” you told him.

His response to that was to squeeze your shoulder as he repeated “it'll get easier.”

You had a hard time believing that.

Then he pulled away, and it looked as though a light bulb went off in his head.

“Oh yeah,” he said as he reached into his pocket, “I grabbed something for you.”

What he pulled out was a golden carousel necklace with white and pink detailing on the horses. And though it had clearly been washed, there were small remnants of red still present on it.

The woman's necklace.

Nobunaga held it out for you.

You looked at him before looking back to it, and then you shook your head.

“You don't want it?” he asked.

You shook your head again.

“Huh. It seemed to be your style so I thought you'd like it.”

You didn't say anything to that, and after a moment, he set the necklace down on the other side of him.

Things were quiet between the two of you until you heard him sigh. Nobu's shoulders sagged a bit as he reached his hand up to give you a gentle pat on the head. In his own odd way, he was doing his best to be kind to you.

The people you killed were also trying to be kind to you.

Against your better judgment, you decided to mention that fact to him.

“That lady was nice,” you said, “same with that guy later on; both of them were trying to help me.”

“Yeah, and that's why they're dead.”

The way he said that so matter-of-factly had you looking back at him with a disgusted expression.

He wasn't at all phased and asked “what? Are you saying I'm wrong?”

“.... They didn't deserve to die,” you said.

“I don't know if it's really a matter of them 'deserving' it or not,” Nobu answered, “but they were the ones who chose to let their guards down around us.”

Us. That word repeated in your head.

“Why didn't you kill me, then?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“I let my guard down around you, too, but instead you turned me into.... This,” you said, “why do I get to keep going on while they died?”

Nobunaga blew out one last puff of smoke before mashing the rest of the cigarette against the surface of the porch before he answered.

“Because we like you.”

“..... That's it?”

“That's it.”

Apparently it was the end of the conversation, as Nobunaga pulled himself back up to his feet before holding a hand out for you to take. And when you did just that and allowed yourself to be pulled to your feet as well, he led you back into the house.

You didn't fight him on that.

Shalnark was gone when you reentered, and as you made your way back to the basement door, you heard voices from the floor above you, the second floor you hadn't seen yet. Though you couldn't make out any words, you could make out Shalnark's voice and the voice of someone you didn't recognize.

“Is there someone else upstairs?” you asked.

“That's Shalnark's area, so don't worry about it,” Nobu answered.

“Shalnark's area?”

“The ground floor is common area,” he explained, “the downstairs belongs to us, and the upstairs belongs to Shalnark. We don't go up unless necessary, and he doesn't come down unless necessary.”

“So unless whatever's happening up there is affecting us, don't worry about it,” he reiterated.

It was abundantly clear that he wanted you to drop it, so you did, staying silent as he opened the door to the basement.

At another point in time, you wouldn't have just sat quietly while your captor brought you back to the place they had locked you in for months.

But you weren't that person anymore. In more ways than one.

Uvogin was still laying on the bed when the two of you got down there, but he lifted his head up when you approached, raising an eyebrow as he asked “you trying to get away again?”

Nobunaga answered for you.

“No, we went out for fresh air.”

Uvogin hummed, but accepted the explanation.

Then the larger man sat up and reached for one of your hands when you got close.

The last thing you could recall him doing at that beach was taking a bite out of a man's head.

His large hand grabbed yours and he pulled it towards his mouth so he could kiss it.

“Feeling better?” he asked you.

Not in the slightest

“Yeah,” you answered quietly.

“Glad to hear it.”

Uvogin grabbed you then, making you sit on his lap and forcing you to spread open your legs to accommodate his size.

The position he'd forced you into had already given you a bad feeling about where this was going, and it only got worse when Uvo spoke again.

“It's been a while since you let me do this,” he said.

“Let you do what?” you asked.

“Let me hold you like this,” he answered, one hand sliding down to grasp at your thigh while he continued with “the last time I was able to get you to sit in my lap without you kicking up a fuss was the night we claimed you.”

“Oh.”

You weren't sure what to do. Did he want an apology? You glanced over to Nobunaga, noting that he had also taken a spot on the mattress and was watching you two.

“You made us put up with a lot, you know?” Uvo then said, “the least you could do would be to make up for all of those times you fought us.”

You glanced back over to Nobunaga to find that while he wasn't saying anything, he seemed to agree with what Uvo was saying.

It was true that any and all sexual advances had been harshly rejected by you, even when you'd been at your weakest. For whatever reason, they wanted you to be a willing participant when they fucked you again. Maybe they would consider that to be a sign that you were finally accepting them.

As much as you didn't want to do that, rejecting them might result in them starving you again. And along with that, a new worry came to mind:

What would they do if they decided they were tired of you?

The reason Nobu had just given you was that the two of them liked you; if you kept fighting them, at what point would they decide that you weren't worth it anymore? That picking you had been a mistake? And what actions would they take to correct that mistake? Would they starve you, tear you to shreds and then toss the pieces out into the sun so you burned up completely?

What happens to vampires when they die?

After a moment of trying to find your voice, you spoke.

“Okay.”

The two were all over you in an instant.

Nobunaga moved closer so he could pull you into a kiss while Uvogin's hands went to your breasts, squeezing them through your shirt and making you whimper against Nobu's lips.

Uvogin must've been pleased by the noise because he squeezed again.

Nobu then pulled away from the kiss and tilted your head up, and then you felt his teeth against your neck. The bite wasn't hard and didn't even break the skin, but it was in the same area as the scars that were left behind from that first claiming bite from the carnival all those nights ago.

If you just hadn't gone out with your friends, you wouldn't be here.

….. Did Patty and Hollis still remember you?

You frowned as the thought came to mind. Your friends who had left you on your own that night, did they worry about what happened? Would they have been eaten up by the fact that they had left you and blame themselves for you being gone? Or had they gotten over you by now? Had it been long enough for them that they were okay with the fact that you no longer existed in their lives?

Did they even think you were still alive, or had they accepted that you were dead?

You tried to remember: just how long had it taken for you to feel like you were normal again after the death of your high school friend?

Those thoughts were interrupted when Nobunaga tugged off your shirt while Uvogin pulled out his hardened dick, and the larger man grabbed your hand and made you wrap your fingers around his length. You took the hint and ran your hand up and down his dick, squeezing every now and then. Uvo seemed happy with that and he tilted your neck to the side so he could copy what Nobu had done, giving you a light nip in the same spot where he'd bitten you originally. Meanwhile Nobu had pulled your bra out of the way so he could toy with your breasts, and when Uvogin pulled away from your neck, the black haired man leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

You let out a whine when he did that, and the two of them seemed happier than every by your reaction.

That was better.

Keeping these two happy was better.

And as one of them pushed a hand down the front of your pants so they could gather up some of the wetness coming from your pussy, you repeated in your head some of the things Nobunaga had said to you earlier:

Just don't think about it.

It’ll get easier.

[codename-mom]

Cookie jar

Summary: The team is on the field without Hotch who's on a leave for some days, but they have to call him anyway. Suddenly, something happens and everybody worry about Jack.

Characters: BAU team and Jack Hotchner

Contents: TW a child is hurt (but everything is fine) and a tiny bit of angst because Hotch can't be anything else but anxious.

This is a text written for the KidFic CM challenge organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

The team had gathered in the room the police had assigned them – a cubbyhole, so to speak, cluttered with cardboard boxes and mops – and Derek dialed Hotch's cell phone number. The latter was on leave for a few days. His men were reluctant to call him when he did, so that he could enjoy his time away from Quantico to the full, but they had no choice. The first clues found in the field echoed those of an old case the director and Jason Gideon had worked on in the past. As the latter had vanished into thin air, they could only contact the former.

He picked up after several rings.

“Hotch?”

“One moment, he stopped him on the spot. Jack, I said no. I’m coming back.”

Morgan had put his phone on speaker so that everyone could follow the conversation, and so they all heard the TV gradually fading away, until it was almost muffled. They imagined he must have gone to his bedroom, or some other room where he could close the door behind him.

“What's the matter?” he asked, in an annoyed tone.

“Sorry to bother you,” apologized Emily, trying to appease him.

It wasn't certain that this impromptu call was the cause of his irritation, but if in doubt, it was best to try and smooth things over.

“Tell me,” he ordered, his intonation unchanged.

“We've potentially got a resurrected serial killer,” the ex-policeman attested.

“If I tell you: branding on the shoulder, chains on the ankles and whipping. Does it speak to you?” went on Dave, next to him.

A silence passed, during which he had to return to his memories.

“… Yes, but the culprit was sentenced to life.”

“Actually, he passed away last month, Derek clarified. But the last victim was killed on Monday.”

“His accomplice was released for good behavior last year, but his file disappeared, Prentiss explained from across the table. Can you remember his name?”

“I imagine you've already searched the digital archives for this information.”

“Affirmative, confirmed Penelope, who had come with them for the occasion. And there’s nothing. The guy just disappeared.”

The agency manager fell silent again. For a long time. The profilers stared at each other, tense.

“Hotch?” impatiently asked Morgan.

“Just a moment, I'm trying to remember, thundered his superior. His name was… De…”

A loud crash and a breaking glass could be heard in the background, and everyone froze as the giant shouted:

“Jack!”

A door opened and footsteps moved away from the handset. Clearly, the giant had left his phone behind. Tension gripped the whole group, their senses on the alert and their hearts pounding against their ribs. 

“Did we kill tiny-Hotch?” moaned Garcia, on the verge of tears.

In the distance, the voice of the father calling his son made them fear the worst. Then the little boy started screaming at the top of his lungs, and everyone shuddered.

“Apparently not,” ironized Emily, who wasn't putting up much more of a fight than her colleagues.

“What do I do? wondered Derek, unsettled by the situation. I hang up?”

“Maybe he'll come back to us,” Spencer stated uncomfortably.

“I don't think so,” objected JJ, listening intently to the distant din.

“Why?”

“This is clearly the cry of a child in real pain.”

As the only mother in the unit, they trusted her judgment without a hesitation.

“Well, maybe I'll hang up now,” voiced Morgan, ready to press the button.

“Wait,” advised Rossi.

Jack was still crying loudly, perhaps a little quieter than a few moments earlier, but more importantly, they noticed that the sound was now moving. And he grew weaker and weaker until he disappeared completely.

“It sounded a lot like a door slamming,” Prentiss claimed, her eyebrows furrowing.

“You can hang up now,” Dave confirmed.

Derek obeyed sighing. He hadn't expected such a turn of events and now felt guilty about what had just happened. He knew the kid a little and he was always delighted to see him, his eyes shining with admiration every time. Like his counterparts, he didn't know what had occurred, but feared that something grave had happened, which would leave neither the child nor its progenitor unscathed.

“It could have been worse,” pointed out JJ.

Everyone looked at her, bewildered.

“Are you kidding? Retorted the brunette. I don't know what’s going on, but it's serious enough that Hotch left with him.”

“Yes, but Jack was crying.”

“So what?” inquired Morgan, confused.

“That means he was conscious,” Reid attested confidently.

The man who had taken over the leadership of the team when Aaron was absent took a long breath and ordered his peers to get back to work in spite of everything. They worked with this question in the back of their minds: how was Jack doing? Based on the thin clue left by their superior, they searched, groped, and modified their profile until they found a certain Denis Porter, who turned out to be their unsub. All this in record time. Since they were in the neighboring state, they returned to the Quantico offices while it was still daylight. Immediately, the worry that had been nagging them all came back to mind, and synchronously, they looked at their phones. None of them had received a message, which didn't reassure them at all.

“Penelope, do you have any way of knowing which hospital he was admitted to?” inquired JJ.

“Why do you ask? teased her colleague, who immediately took to her keyboard. I'll do it right away, my little ones.”

She typed the toddler's first and last names into her search engine and the result appeared almost instantly on her screen. All gathered around the analyst in her colorful lair, they read the information at the same time.

“Let's go,” commanded Emily, leading the way.

A few minutes later, they jumped in two Bureau SUVs and headed for downtown Washington DC, following the itinerary on their GPS. They parked quickly and hurried to the reception desk. The nurse behind the counter was somewhat surprised to see the herd arrive, armed and determined, but was reassured to see Derek's warm smile. She directed them to the pediatric emergency room on the other side of the building. Together, they made their way through the corridors until they reached another admissions department, where they were given the room number.

They shared a similar fear at this moment. They dreaded discovering the state of the youngster and prayed the titan wasn’t ready to drop again. He'd already suffered enough; he didn't deserve to be in even worse shape. Morgan didn't have the courage to knock on the door, which was ajar but not wide enough for them to see what was going on inside. Rossi did it for him.

“Knock, knock!”

“Come in,” Hotch reacted, in his usual tone.

They took a few steps and saw the boy lying on a bed, in a hospital gown, his head turbaned, but grinning from ear to ear. His father was sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed, and a brief chuckle lifted the corner of his lips. Relieved, all the agents took Jack in their arms one after the other – except Spencer, who simply banged his fist against his. The girls added a kiss on his cheek and told him he was very brave. The effusive reunion over, Aaron declared:

“Denis Porter.”

“Yes, we found him,” Dave replied, squeezing his shoulder.

“Good.”

He didn't have the expression of someone satisfied with their work. He still looked distressed.

“What happened?” said JJ, asking aloud the question they'd all been asking themselves.

“Mister wanted a cookie. I pointed out to him that it wasn't the right time, but he waited until my back was turned to take one.”

“And?” bounced Prentiss.

“Well, he had his cookie. A lot of cookies. And the jar itself.”

The adults' gaze swiveled towards the injured boy, who gave them his best little rascal smile. He had no regrets about what he'd done. Some of the visitors felt sorry for him, once again showering him with hugs, while the others shook their heads in disappointment.

“Concussion?” continued JJ.

“It’s what we’re waiting to see. He has been under observation since 3:30 p.m.”

They reflexively glanced at their watches. He had been here for almost three hours.

“He looks okay, Derek remarked as he sat down on the bed next to him. Right, buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow you'll be a hero at school,” affirmed Rossi, leaning against the bedposts.

“Yeah!” exulted Jack, proudly.

“Because he took a cookie jar to the forehead?” judged Emily, eyebrows furrowed.

“Scars,” Reid whispered, in a tone of obviousness.

“… Guys...” sighed the three women in unison, as they saw the same victorious expression on the faces of their male comrades.

Someone knocked on the door and a nurse entered, a little disconcerted to see so many people in the room.

“Mr. Hotchner?”

“Yes,” responded the interested party, rising to his feet.

“Can you come with me for a moment?”

Instinctively, he turned to his offspring and met his irises.

“We'll look after him, Hotch, Penelope reassured him, having grasped the source of his apprehension. Go.”

His teammates nodded in support, and Aaron very gently kissed his son on his bandaged forehead before leaving the room. Without them needing to ask, the hero of the day began to tell them all about his adventures, dwelling on unimportant details, forgetting the end of some of his sentences to go back and move on to something else, and surely exaggerating certain facts. All this with boundless energy and plenty of grand gestures that definitely appeased them about his state of health.

However, Morgan saw the nurse pass by again in the other direction out of the corner of his eye and was puzzled not to see Hotch reappear immediately afterwards. He waited a little longer, in vain. He apologized to his fellows and returned to the corridor. He discovered the giant a few yards away, leaning against the wall, a document in his hand. His pupils turned towards the ground, he seemed lost. Derek felt a vise tighten around his throat. What if…?

“Trouble?”

“What? gasped the manager, rudely jolted from his thoughts. No. This is the exit voucher. Everything is fine.”

The former policeman relaxed.

“So why the long face?”

The agency head lowered his nose, dodging his gaze, before sighing. Then he lifted his chin and turned his dark irises on him.

“… How did your mother do it?”

“To what?” he reacted, taken aback by this private question.

“To raise three children on her own into perfect adults.”

He couldn't help but burst out laughing, even though his interlocutor had spoken very seriously. At least he understood why he looked so downcast when all the indicators were green. As usual, the ex-prosecutor scourged himself for not having been able to protect a loved one, when there was no reason to do so.

“I'm not sure she'd say that,” he joked to lighten the mood.

“You arrest serial killers and, from what I've seen, your sisters don't seem to be into organized crime.”

Seen like that, indeed, his mother had done a very good job of keeping them on the straight and narrow. But that didn't mean the road wasn't full of bumps.

“Hotch, what happened was an accident, as it happens in every family in the world. I did the same stunt when I was a kid and, obviously, I'm fine.”

It was the truth. He himself had taken a tin of candy on the corner of his skull when he was a little older than the director's son. He had climbed onto a chair and then onto the kitchen counter before stretching out to grab the object of his desire, which his mother had placed as high up in the room as possible. In the end, he found himself in the emergency room with a huge lump on his forehead. The images were no longer so clear in his mind, but he still remembered his mother's concern as she brought him unconscious to the hospital. The same expression of anguish and guilt appeared on his neighbor's face.

“Hotch, Jack's moving, he's talking, and he's got clearance to get out of here. So, everything is okay.”

“Then why do I feel like the worst father in the world?” he retorted, not daring to look up.

He almost replied that it was because he had very low self-esteem, but restrained himself to give him a more consensual, but no less correct answer.

“You were scared for him, it’s normal.”

“But it's not just that, he despaired, peeling himself away from the wall to walk down the corridor. I constantly asking for help. To Jessica, to Haley’s mother, to my own mother… even JJ. I’m incapable of taking care of him all by myself.”

Morgan was touched despite himself by the disarray of his opposite, who was still struggling to adapt to his new life as a single father. Not being in his situation, he couldn't really give him advice, but could always try to make him see reason.

“Hotch, I think all parents ask other people for help. My mother would ask other women in the neighborhood for advice, and some of them would even babysit us. Your mother must have done the same thing, JJ does and I'm pretty sure Haley did too. You're no more incapable than anyone else.”

He and his sisters had spent entire afternoons and weekends at their aunts' so that their mother could work or simply have time for herself, and none of her children had had the audacity to reproach her in any way.

“… I wish I could be as sure as you are.”

Derek rolled his eyes and held back from kicking his butt. His propensity for only seeing the glass as half empty annoyed him to no end, but he tempered his urge to strangle him by reminding himself that the context wasn't helping either. So, he chose a gentler method.

“Does Jack smile?”

“What?” exclaimed Aaron, raising his nose.

“Do you see Jack smiling?”

“Yes.”

“Laugh?”

“Yes.”

“Does he tell you he loves you? Without you having to tell him beforehand or giving him something he wanted?”

“Yes.”

“So, everything is good.”

The giant analyzed the exchange they had just had, and his subordinate saw his features gradually relax. He fixed his gaze in his again and, with a pale smile, said:

“… Thank you.”

Morgan's lips stretched warmly, and he laid a hand on his shoulder in return. The two men then went to the little boy's room, where his father told him the good news.

___

This idea jumped in my head after my first watch of season 5 and this dialogue between Derek and Hotch, where Derek has decided to write his own report to leave more free time for him to take care of Jack (because he knows what it is to be a single parent).

That scene was so cute, that I needed to imagine another peaceful moments between the two of them. Because we all know that they appreciate each other more than they will confess it. Because boys are boys...

[yufloria]

The Pain of Regret

CHEATER?!Soap X Fem!Reader 

A/N: Hey! Thank you so much for the support on my first fanfic it gave me motivation to finish this one faster (because the first one took me almost half a month to complete) I hope you enjoy this just as much as the first one.  

Warnings: it's my 2nd fanfic but first shot on Angst and Pain no Comfort, I guess some sexual themes? If you squint (Only once mention condom) Soap is a complete asshole in this and you kill a bunch of kids (unintentionally) 

Also: Feedback would be appreciated :3

Word Count: 3.2k

The relationship you had with Soap was … confusing to say the least. Confusing because both of you were always dancing between the line of being a couple or just friends. You always waited to see if Soap wanted anything with you, but he always seemed to keep you guessing, by spending nights together even though it was forebitten in the barracks, cracking jokes together while mending yourselves or some lingering touches that seem to drag a few seconds longer than necessary. But he never made the move towards anything else. Now it has been almost half a year in this guessing game, and you finally gathered your courage enough for you to confess to him. Convincing yourself that it is better for you to have a solid answer than always seem to walk on eggshells around him. You settled into giving him a rose and tell him verbally. You knew it was a bit cliché, but you decided to pair it with a small meaningful gift. It was a black switchblade with a small Scottish flag stud on the bottom of the handle with your initials right below it. A little too much? Maybe? But you knew his love for his country was great and you hope it was the same for you too. You wrapped the knife with some black paper and tied it with a silver cord and attached a small piece of paper simply stating, ‘I love you, Johnny’  

The reason was that one time, as you were the recently added recruit and you got captured during a mission and Soap was the first one to find you. You were about to get thrown out of a 15-story building. You were tied up in the rope that you desperately struggle

c d to get out of, but your hands were tied up behind you. Soap made the stupid mistake of shooting the enemy that was the only thing keeping you from plummeting to your death. As you were falling, Soap managed to throw himself to get the spare rope, struggled to stop the force pulling him down with you. He managed to flip himself over onto his back and press the soles of his boots against the wall and grunting in pain has he strained both of his arms to hold you steady before slowly starting to pull you up. Once he managed to see your head coming up from the floor, he managed to sit up and pull from the rope across your chest and pulled you into a bear hug after seeing your eyes rimmed with tears. Once he dragged both of you away from the broken window. He took out his black switchblade to furiously cut you out of your bindings. But on the last rope, he used more force than necessary, and it slipped from his hand off and out the window. “Ah, and that was my favorite one,” was the only thing he said before holding your head between his hands and looking at your face. He now noticed a cut on your eyebrow that caused blood to cover your right eye. “That bastard nicked you, didn’t he? Good thing he is dead now” he laughed. “Come on let's get you home and patched up,” he said before sending you a smile that made your stomach butterflies flutter. You touch over the scar that rested a little above your eyebrow. The damaged skin felt soft against your fingers smiling fondly at the memory. Content with your work, you carefully picked up the gift and placed it in your secret drawer. Before you could even think when you should give the present to Soap. Everyone in the Task Force was called out to carry out a mission on getting some information on an important cargo from the cartel.   

So, here you are, sitting perched on a church tower in the bell chamber in the dead of night. It had started to rain and become windy, both of them slowly started picking up and soon enough it felt like you were right in the middle of a hurricane. Static was the only thing that could be heard from the radio until the gruff voice of Price spoke through the noise, “Scorpion, once you see the cargo truck heading up north to the bridge. You need to take the driver out before it even gets close to the bridge. If not, we will lose track of it, and it will take weeks to relocate again, and we don’t know what’s inside. So, I advise you to take the shot once you feel it is appropriate.” “Copy that Price, I just wanted you to know that the weather is cutting communication through the radio,” you replied. Static arose again and you were the one to speak this time. “Do you copy? Price? Captain? Anyone?’’ Without hearing a response back, you started tinkering with your radio trying to get a better connection before the tell-tale sign of an engine rumbling in the distance brought you back to stay focused on the mission at hand. You faintly started to see the headlights in the distance, and you guessed that you have around 2 minutes in aligning your shot before your target gets to the bridge. “Price, do you copy? Do I take the shot?” You asked one last time into the static to confirm. You knew that the time was running out and without confirmation, you decided to take your shot.   

Everything went in slow motion as you were pulling the trigger the static cleared out just enough for you to hear, “--kids inside.” You tried to stop your actions and recollect your thoughts, but it was too late, your bullet was now on course toward its destination. The realization that they might be children inside the truck made your blood run cold. You watched in desperation as the truck tipped over the road and down the mountain side and every time you saw the truck flip over it felt like someone had punched and stabbed you in the heart. Once the truck hit rock bottom, you snapped from your frozen state and you jumped off the church tower onto the lower roof, slid down the building's side, landed on the grass with a grunt, and you sprinted towards the edge of the mountain where the team was standing. Once you ran enough to stand next to them you watched in shock as the truck exploded; the explosion was big enough for you to see and feel the small shockwave it had induced. You screamed and cried out as you fell onto your knees as you realized that there probably were children with their mothers inside the truck and instead of saving them you killed them.   

“You killed them.” Soap accused you.  

“Huh?” you looked up in pain at him.  

“Are you deaf? You fucking killed them!” he yelled louder pressing up to you.  

Hearing that the person you love the most in this world just laid all the blame of the situation on you and only you made your blood boil. You stood up and closed in up to his face.  

“Don't you fucking dare blame this all on me.” you bite out.  

“Oh yeah? And who just shot the focken driver eh?”  

“Price told me- actually ordered me that I could take the shot whenever I felt it was appropriate and that is what I did!” You emphasize by pushing him away.  

“No, you didn’t do focken anything-.”  

“Quit it you two! The damage has already been done. We need to go down there and see if there's any survivors left and return back to the base.” Price ordered by stepping between both of you sensing a fight boiling inside both of you. Then, all of you went to see if there were any survivors, but much to your despair they were none. Everything after that passed in a blur, it felt that you were viewing your vision in 3rd person as you frantically checked the countless burned bodies for a pulse. You all returned to the base in silence as you were merely a shell of yourself and went to your room to try to rest. Keyword? Tried. After what felt hours of trying, you frustrated sit up from your bed and decided to see Soap and talk to him hoping to make him see and understand your side of the story, so he doesn’t view you as the cause of the death of innocent kids and their mothers.  

You hurriedly and quietly make your way towards Soap’s room, and you faintly see an orange light seep out from the bottom of Soap’s door at the end of the hallway meaning he was still awake and hopefully it gives you the opportunity to clear the misconceptions. Once you reached the door you rapidly knocked on the door and waited. Upon knocking at the door, you hear a commotion go inside his room thinking he might have fallen you swing open the door and your eyes land on Soap’s bed, and he was naked with another woman. You stood there shocked, and they also froze into place while your eyes quickly glanced around the room. Different clothing and undergarments were spread across the room. But the last straw was when your eyes landed on a tied used condom on the floor. It triggered a huge turmoil within you and your heart shattered into a million pieces and your blood started to burn through your veins. But after a few seconds in silence, the other woman was the first one to react to cover herself and try her best to quickly change and bolt out the door. Soap did the same and right before he could chase after her he stopped in front of you. “Why are you so pissed off that I am enjoying MY free time with other women, huh? You know damn well that you and I aren't a thing and especially after the bullshit you pulled today, you are worthless to this team, and you are nothing to me. You can’t do anything that you are told, and it is basically taking care of a fucking child. I also do not understand why are you crying if you were the cause of their deaths. You are responsible for them and all the emotions you are feeling right now it is all thanks to you.” The moment those words reached your ears it felt like someone had crushed and crumbled your soul. Once you saw Soap sidestepping to leave you standing at his door you weakly grabbed his forearm and quietly whispering “I thought we had something.” He scoffs and nonchalantly said “Really? With you? Pfft! You really thought we had something? Well, let me be clear with you. Whatever you thought we had it is just work-related and nothing more.” “Then what about those nights that we spent together? Does that also mean nothing to you?” “A man can get bored every once and a while and you seem to alleviate that feeling just for a bit and that's it. Pitiful that you actually thought we were going to have something.” He simply stated while getting your hand on his arm and threw it back at you. That was the last nail into the coffin, and you don’t even bother to call him when he passes you to go after the other woman.   

Once you returned to your room you let all the tears fall like a broken dam. Your mind kept on replaying all the soul-crushing words that Soap carelessly threw at you. All the things that you thought were him giving you hints were nothing? Everything you did for him was for nothing? With that thought, new tears sprouted in your eyes, and from your bed, you saw the now dead rose and the black wrapped present teasingly looking back at you taunting you on how you were stupid enough not to see he was just using you for his mere entertainment. You got up from your bed to hold the present in your hands and that warm feeling you had every time you thought of giving it to him and accepting your advances now are completely gone. You rolled your eyes at it, ripped the note, rose apart, and threw it into the trash next to your desk. You quietly chuckled as you reminded yourself ‘It was really nothing for him huh?’ You head back to your bed sitting at the edge, the tears have long stopped but your heart still cries out in pain. So, with a heavy heart, you got yourself your secret stash of alcohol. After picking it up you put on your jacket and walk outside to the nearby forest. As you pushed open the doors, the icy freezing wind bit your nose and cheeks, and you left the walls for the night without looking back.   

“Has anyone seen Scorpion?” a voice called out in the bustling walls as Soap makes his way to the cafeteria “Ugh, what a waste of time she is,” he muttered to himself. ‘Why couldn’t Price choose a better candidate and just replace her,’ he thought. Once he got his breakfast he sat down and realized that the table seemed emptier and colder, but he couldn’t lay his finger on it. After scarfing down his food he went to the lounge room to find the Task Force acting weird and tension arose once he stepped into the room. Price was the first one to break the silence and informed him,  

“Soap, do you have any idea where Scorpion is?”  

“No sir, why?”  

“She didn’t report this morning, and no one seems to find her, and I thought you may have known something and her whereabouts.’’  

“Have you checked her room? Most of the time she is in her room after a mission so it is understandable, she might be holed up in there after her fuck up yesterday.”  

“Don't talk to her like that! Go to her room and check on her.”  

“But why me huh? You could have asked anyone before me, and you chose me?!’  

“That’s an order! Now go!”  

Soap stood in silence and stared back at Price, who just raised his eyebrows as a warning. Grumbling, Soap turned around and made his way towards your room, a path he quite remembered as muscle memory. Once at your door he knocked and called out to you, and he started to grow frustrated with the lack of response. After knocking and calling out for you the 3rd time he tried the doorknob to his surprise to know that it was unlocked. He knew you so well that you never went to bed without locking the door due to your paranoia. With the conclusion that something might have happened to you, he opened the door just to find your room empty. He steps into your room to find everything was disarranged which made his heart pump a bit faster. He started to clean up to get clues on what happened to you or where you could have gone. Then he picked up your knocked-down trash can and saw the ripped note and rose which picked on his curiosity. He then started to find the hidden message in the jigsaw puzzle of the torn paper which caused his heart to skip a beat once he read the ‘I love you, Johnny’ written in your handwriting. The lump on the bottom of the trashcan grabbed his attention which he picked up with both hands and noticed how heavy it was and ripped it apart just to see almost the same replica of his favorite switchblade that he thought was gone forever and no longer in production. He painfully started to smile as he saw the small Scottish flag and your initial on the bottom of the handle. A huge wave of sorrow washed over him as he recalled the anguished face you had when he told you all those terrible words. He remembered those huge eyes rimmed with tears and they were the same eyes you had when he saved you on your first mission, but this time, he was the cause of them, and he didn’t wipe them away.  

“Ever heard of privacy?” Your voice startled him, and he looked over your bed and see you standing at the door. You approached him with red eyes and dark circles around your eyes. He looked up at you in fear as he sees you as a grim reaper that came down to earth to collect his soul due to his sins. He quickly tried to apologize, stumbling on his words trying to find the correct words to soothe the pain he made you feel last night. You just hold your hand up to his face and told him in a voice so cold that he has never heard before,  

“Get out.” You simply told him, motioning him to leave your room  

“Wait, hold on, let’s talk about it,’’ he tried to reason with you.  

“Talk about what? You made it clear yesterday that you never wanted anything with me. Now get out!” you yelled. 

“What? I never said that and even if I did, I didn’t mean it I was drunk and couldn’t think straight. You have to understand that.”  

“Understand what?! That you got your dick wet with another woman the moment you got bored of me? And Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare. To make the excuse that you were just “drunk” and that you couldn’t think straight. Wanna know why? Hmm? Because the only people that don’t lie in this world are the kids and the drunk.” You seethe out with so much venom laced into your words so much to the point you started tearing up and your voice cracking, but you couldn’t let him see the damage he has done to you. You promised yourself yesterday to never cry in front of him ever again. With that, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, controlled yourself, and left without saying anything.  

But to him, every word you muttered to him felt like a knife was being stabbed into his heart. He didn’t even realize he started crying as he felt his hand claw into his chest as he hoped that it could go through his skin to comfort his aching heart. He tried reaching his hand onto yours to stop you from leaving but once you flinched your hand away from his touch, he retracted back his hand.   

“Don't ever fucking touch me.” That was the last thing you told him before walking away. 

A/N: HAHAaaaa! Bet you didn’t expect that did you huh? I hope you didn’t because most of the angst fanfic I have read usually when the “cheater” says that he was drunk reader just forgives him and boom happy ending. I think it is a whole bag of bull. 

A small continuation at the timeskip

[writingcold]

Hi.  Welcome to the Epilogue.  It’s short, but mighty.  I truly, truly hope that you have enjoyed my Bootleggers and Wildflowers.  They have been so fun to write.  

If you are just joining us, you can find the Master List to the series here

Here’s the last time I’m going to say it: @lvnterninthenight, @gardensgatedaisy and @whitesuitjake thank you from the bottom of my toes to the tip of my head for your assistance, patience and talents.

This is a work of fiction, and is totally mine.  Please do not take it for your own personal use.  I’ve put in hours of research, hours upon hours of writing, re-writing, screaming, yelling and vomiting over this epic of a story.  But it is mine.

Content warning:  18+ only story.  Fluff.  Family.  Hardship of the 1930’s and the Great Depression.  But, mostly fluff.

Word count: approx. 3200

Epilogue - Cora

Summer 1933

     The hard times started one year and two months after their wedding.  Jacob and Cora had just welcomed their first child when it seemed the world went wild with grief and darkness.  For the honeymoon, they had gotten into his newest car - a cherry red Packard Twin Roadster.  Cora thought the car was wildly flamboyant.  Jake teased that he loved seeing her frugal and modest nature crumble the moment she slid into the passenger seat, feeling the suppleness of the leather and the smooth ride across the road.  And he was right.  There were little luxuries that he injected into her life that she could not be without - a pretty tea set, a soft bed, touches through the quality fabric of her dresses, a variety of food in her belly every night.  To see her family flourish in their new home was a blessing she promised to never take for granted.  

      If Cora had thought that she had gathered so much life in the two years she had lived before marrying Jacob, the first year of their marriage was like living life at a full sprint.  The Baras’ Brothers General and Mercantile Store opened for official business while they were on their auto touring trip.  Joshua, Daniel and Samuel launched the moment they could, offering Arbor Vitae their first real access to a wide variety of needs.  Within a month, Sam opened an auto garage and gas service station next door.  Molly carved out a bit of a tailoring shop on the opposite side of the street.  Rosemary found her hands needed as men streamed in from the logging camps, swamping Molly with so many repairs that she needed assistance right away.  Assistance that her mother was delighted to provide.  Cora took the job of accounting for all the family businesses - a job that she was happy to manage from the home that Jacob had built at the edge of town.

      She walked through the functional kitchen, a cup of tea in her hand.  The quiet of the house filled her as she sat down at the rich oak dining table.  Across the walls and sideboard, instead of art of a well-to-do wife, she had pictures of them all - all the family.  It was difficult not to be reflective as the children slept and her hand on her very pregnant belly as the next little one stirred against her.  Her smile tugged as she cooed down at the next blessing.  She had been feeling little flutters all morning.  Flutters she knew would make loud announcements in a short time to bring forth the next member of their family.  Blowing out a soft, cooling breath across her tea, she looked across to the last photo Joshua had taken of her brothers.

      Matthew, Jonathan and Georgie stood shoulder to shoulder with serious faces and crisp linen suits.  It was taken just a few days before Matthew traveled to the east for the Autumn term at the college where his namesake had once made home.  The eldest of her brothers had made quite the impression on his professors and had established himself amongst his peers.  He was settling in Boston after the university there invited him to teach.  Cora knew that their father’s spirit of sharing knowledge resided deep within him.  It would be a good fit for the young man seeking to set his roots.  Jon blossomed under Samuel’s tutelage, becoming quite the engineer and helping at the auto garage.  The young man showed more than talent, but a mind for innovation as well.  He felt strangled when he tried college, finding that he needed to be tinkering rather than pointing out the flaws in his professor’s methods and lessons.  After two terms of university, Jon was snatched up by a large car company and moved to Detroit.  Sam was as proud as he could be of his protege.  Georgie, the last of the boys to be home with Rosemary, was preparing to leave for college soon.  He would be joining Matthew in Boston, with a focus on the family business as his guide.  He had taken an interest in the management of the shops, to which Jake was quick to foster.  The Janas family lived a good, secure life.  Quite the opposite of their situation only seven years prior.  A blessing she held terribly close in her heart.

      Samuel’s service station was wildly popular with locals and tourists alike.  The first year without Susannah had been rough to aid him through.  The young man’s wounds were bone deep and bled often as he struggled to heal.  The station helped return his mind to normal.  His reputation of making cars go fast trickled through the various car clubs that traveled through town that first summer of business.  He was approached by a driver asking about what he knew about endurance racing.  The thought of traveling around the world to showcase his talent that had once been for illegitimate offerings was not lost on the young man.  He would spend seven months of each year on the circuit then return home to hearth and home, the conquering hero.  After the second season, he returned with a woman he had met and married in Poland.  The happiness that had jolted the man’s heart filled every room he graced.  It was another blessing that the family could count.

    Molly and Daniel had settled in a house down the road from them.  Pregnancies were hard on the sassy woman.  The grief over losses culminated in the decision to become a doting aunt and uncle.  Molly took pleasure in snuggling each child, but to have the ability to turn them back home when fussy was a luxury all its own.  Daniel and Jacob ran the shops efficiently.  Their partnership was close knit with more than enough work to go around.  Daniel shone in the community with his patient nature and level-headed decision making.  He had become a fixture on the town board with whispers of perhaps a mayoral term in his future.  Molly would cackle behind closed doors about a former bootlegger and dancing girl becoming respectable in society without anyone the wiser.  But she knew - it was a blessing.  All of it and in between.  A blessing afforded by sacrifice that was not willingly given.

     Her eyes traced to the numerous pictures of her and Jacob.  Her handsome husband and partner.  Matthew Kelly arrived a week before the stock market crash that  blackened October 28th, 1929.  He brought such joy to their home that Cora was sure would rupture it from its sheer capacity.  But then, tragedy.  Unlike so many in the community, the Baras’ family weathered the perpetual storms with restraint and bonds that were stronger than steel.  

      Next to the photo of Jake holding infant Matthew was one of the twins.  Stone faced, seated with bodies turned slightly towards each other, it belied the laughter that rang out once the camera flashed.  Joshua, though invested throughout the community, became restless shortly after the dark days began to unfold.  He was instrumental in immediately setting up aid to those who were affected, seeing to it that hungry mouths had food to turn to as well as having shelters built for families displaced from instant foreclosure.  Joshua’s spirit grew restless in the small community that held few options for him.  He drifted in his pursuits, moving further and further away from hearth and home, traveling the country in search of his niche.  Always graced with the gift of words, Josh had discovered an opportunity to delve into his love of film.  Instead of Hollywood, he found himself behind a camera, capturing the horrendous human suffering of the time.  He was able to put pictures and words to those who were too smothered to be heard and seen.  He became active in documenting atrocities of what would become a defining moment in history.  Though he was far from home, Joshua marched to his family’s heartbeat always.  Caring and sheltering those he could by bringing awareness to their strife.  Cora grinned at the photo, knowing that Joshua was a blessing to her in more than just offering her a glimmer of opportunity that was doubtful in the beginning.  Her husband’s brother saw within her something that could be pushed, nurtured and elevated to be a pillar of strength of his family.  For that, she would always be grateful.

      In the center of the wall, hung a beautifully framed photograph of the entire family, all together.  Rosemary and Dorothy were the center with both sides of the family fanning out behind them.  Though on the fringe, Junie could be seen holding the hand of Lucas for the very first time.  It was a moment no one realized until the finished piece arrived in the lovely silver frame.  Lucas provided her sister with the kind of quiet love Junie needed.  The young man held her with such tenderness, yet protected Cora Rose with a fierceness that rivaled the girl’s mother.  Lucas had started to expand on the little cottage next to Dotty’s, but the woman gifted the big house to them instead.  Cora Rose became sister to Ada Marie the following year and the house would become what Dorothy Baroski wanted it to be - a home for a family.  The shelter the woman had afforded Junie when it most needed, turned to the blessing of found family.  

     Cora’s belly constricted once more, hard, under her fingertips.  The air in her lungs burned as she tried to breathe through the stirrings.  Shifting for the eighth time in an effort to remain comfortable, her eyes strayed to the grand clock.  The fourth hour chime would fill the home with a tone that was meant to prepare for the evening.  However, she knew it would be a few hours yet before Jacob would return to her.

     Their twins, Sarah Jane and Junie Belle, arrived in March of 1931.  Tiny little things, the pair screamed their way into the home and their parents’ hearts.  The picture of Jake holding both babies while she held Matthew on her hip was one of her favorites.  A hint of a smile resided on her man’s face that happened to be there from the moment of the vows, never straying, never fading.  Her Jacob.  Her handsome husband.  He was a better father than she could have hoped for.  Echoes of her father resounded in her spirit as he would swish around holding the babies in his strong arms as they babbled and sang songs that floated out of the radio.  He read to them every chance he received, spinning tales that she was sure had been his favorites as a child.  He glowed in the presence of his children.  

     Though the dark did not seem to touch the Bara’s household, it ravaged their community.  It was not uncommon for men from all over the region to gather on the main street and wait for jobs in order to feed their families.  Men as far away as Eau Claire and Waukesha would show up and wait for the timber crews to glean from their numbers for logging to the north.  A few were brought on to the farms for day help, but that was mostly just in the Spring and Autumn months when help was needed.  Most were unsuccessful in their search for work, leaving an endless march of souls that were hungry and lost to the time at hand.

      Junie would drive into town four afternoons a week with Dottie, bringing in extras from the garden and donating time in the soup kitchen.  Jacob, on his walk home each evening after the shop closed at six, would stop in the kitchen to sneak in a ten dollar bill when no one was looking.  He would take a few minutes to play ‘Look what I found’ with a few of the children, pretending to find tiny bags of lollipops or hard candy or toffee treats to share.  He always felt he needed to give more.  More time.  More smiles to lighten the heaviness of the spirit of their community.  In truth, Cora knew the man would give every last shred to shield them all from this dragon that threatened them.  

     The flash of pain blazed from her core, spreading down through her legs and up through her chest.  She knocked her tea cup, spilling its ignored contents across the deep toned wood.  Gasping for breath, she fought to steady herself while her body worked to bring the baby forth.  The bloom rapidly subsided and she stood to retrieve a towel from the kitchen.  As she sopped up the mess, she could hear Matthew stirring in his room.  Shaking her head, she knew it was time.  Moving to the hall, she lifted the phone to first call the midwife, Mrs. Totts.  Next was a call to Molly’s shop to request one of them to alert Jacob and then to come and retrieve the children for the night.  It was a well run plan that they had planned out and executed.  As she hung the receiver, she bent, holding her belly and swallowing the pain the best she could so as not to worry the children.     

      Time ticked along with the mechanical sound of the clock that she stood beside with eyes trained on the door.  Each tick brought a pinch to her breath while each tock, the heat of her labor spread further around her back.  She could hear the girls waking in their room above her.  There would be no way she would be able to climb the stairs to comfort them, welcome them back from their slumber.  A soft gasp dripped from her lips as another flare struck her.  

     Her brain began to latch onto anything around her in search of comfort.  At the edge of the sideboard was a photo of Jake and her with Marcus.  It had been taken shortly after Matthew had been born when their dear friend passed through town.  The sight of the man who treated her like his own daughter soothed her.  Marcus held an orderly court in Iron Mountain as the waves from the Kiszka and Wagner reign blazed to a close.  He talked about how times were about to change once more.  The end of Prohibition would bring legitimate business back to the liquor trade, effectively cutting off revenue for ‘family ties’ as Marcus put it.  He had hopes of retiring.  He had hopes of finding a soft place to land amongst the trying times.  She had hoped that perhaps in time he would find his path back to them.  

      “Mama?”  Matthew called from the top of the stairs, his little voice filled with sleep and worry.

      She bared her teeth as she tried to move towards the foot of the stairs but a sudden flush of liquid between her legs stopped her immediately.  Her jaw dropped as her knees started to bend to lower herself to the floor.  

      “Stay there, Matthew,”  she managed, trying to sound normal.

      The screech of the screen door followed by the solid sound of the front door opening brought her heart a moment of relief.  Molly’s eyes grew wide when she found her in between the hall and the dining room.

      “Oh, Mama,”  she breathed.  “That close?  Let’s get you up, dolly.”

      Cora breathed out in pain as her friend helped her back to her feet and to a chair.  “Get the babies.  The stroller-”

      “I know where everything is.  Don’t you worry about a thing,”  she remarked as she turned.  “Jake’s right behind me.  You call Mrs. Totts?”

      Cora nodded in answer as her hands smoothed around to the base of her belly.  The door flew open once more, admitting Jacob with a worried look in his eyes.  She held up her hands to him.

      “I saw Molly-”

      “Up here,”  she called.  “Got a few things to do first.  Get her to your room.”

      He helped her to stand once more as a contraction struck.  She fell against him, but he held firm.  Breathing him in as her body struggled through the process, she could feel his heartbeat through the linen of his jacket.  

      “Ready?”  he whispered, his fingers pressing into her back.

      All she could do was nod.  He helped her into the bedroom.  “I left a mess,”  she said, feeling her cheeks blush.

      “Do not worry about that.  I’ll get it,”  he answered as he moved her to the side of the bed.  

      He proceeded to start in on the buttons of her dress before unhooking her stockings and taking off her shoes.  He reached for the nightdress that she had worn for all three pregnancies and wrapped it around her before helping her into the bed with a firm hand and gentle kiss to her mouth.  They heard Mrs. Totts walk through the front door with a knock as Molly worked her way down the stairs.  Jacob sat on the edge, his body a bastion of strength for her to hold to as the storm raged across her belly.  He whispered love and devotion into her hair as she tried to breath through the waves.

      “Mr. Bara,”  Mrs. Totts scolded as she made her way inside.  “That is enough of you.  Out.”

      He laughed through his nose as he leaned into her, capturing her gaze.  “I love you.  I can’t wait to meet our newest cherished one.”

      He pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth before the old woman could physically remove him from his room.  She watched him go and turn back with a wave before closing the door.  The labor was longer than with the others.  She could hear Jacob becoming frustrated as he waited in the dining room.  At times she could hear her mother’s voice.  Others, Danny and Georgie.  Just when she thought she was too tired to go on, she felt a calm wash over her.  It was a strange sensation she got with each of the babies - a calm that soothed her spirit and refocused her nerves just before they were pushed into the hands of Mrs. Totts.  Her heart grew quiet until the first note of a cry filled the room and relief filled every pore of her being.  

      The radiance of pure love was a welcomed friend in her family.  Cora, exhausted, watched as Jacob took their newest son, Jacob Thomas, Junior into his arms and held him close, kissing him on his forehead in complete happiness.  Mrs. Totts frowned as Jake maneuvered beside his wife as she left.  He cradled Cora against him as she brought the baby up to her breast to feed him.  It was a blessing that both would feel, together.  This idea of togetherness in their family.  The blessing of forever. 

The End.

So if you enjoyed my story, please please please, share it.  Reblog it.  Comment.  Let me know the good, the bad, the ugly, because I do love to hear every thought you have - it will help me to only get better.  I appreciate it more than you know.

Thank you everyone for being patient and reading along with the story.  I hope to have something a little different for you soon.  Something gothic for October.  🎃👻

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @whitesuitjake @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @streamingcolors-gvf @gretavanbitches @samsurfgreenbass @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatchercarol @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @puzzle-gvf @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @lightmylove-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter @sammysvanfeet @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @jaketlove @redsierra1960 @gvfmarge @becinabubblegvf @wildbluesorbit @sinarainbows

[bluebudgie]

So... what's up with these two?

(I love recycling old pictures.png)

You may or may not have seen me draw these rats repeatedly and you may or may not care what's up with them.

Well, in case you do... buckle up, we'll be here for a while.

Just in case: very vague ableism mention. I'm cutting down on pretty much all details, but just so you know the general topic comes up at some point. Don't want to make anyone uncomfortable.

Unrelated disclaimer: words are difficult.

It's probably smart to start with a general character introduction so you get an idea of who you're dealing with.

So, Petthri.

(Shared most of this stuff about him before, now it's gathered in one place at least.)

The outgoing guy, grew up in a supportive family, always been the popular kid among peers, and later a pretty popular professor with his students (less so with some other colleagues, but hey). Very passionate about animal bioacoustics. Very hands-on when it comes to research and teaching. Infodumps a lot.

He's got his heart in the right place, but he's obviously not flawless. Has his thoughts constantly drifting in twelve different directions at once, can definitely not read the room, and has absolutely said and done things that hurt others just because he didn't think (and probably never realized). Likely to nervously laugh his way through most dangerous situations, but does manage to pull himself together and get things done if things turn really bad.

He got – at some point (precise date TBA, sometime around PoF events) – kidnapped by the Inquest because they wanted some of his research but didn't manage to sort through his mess. So they just took the entire man to the CoE and decided to keep him. Niche knowledge could always be useful after all. They were even kind enough to gift him an additional facial scar during the welcome interrogation! (The other one was a field trip accident). True hospitality.

Not sure if it's incredible optimism or naivety, but he's generally been doing alright during this whole prisoner situation. He's not locked up, they let him work on things he actually cares about (albeit not for the right cause), and overall he's had enough hope to believe he'll get out of there one day. Make the best out of the present, it'll be fine somehow.

I'm sure if you were to dig deep enough he'd find out he's actually less alright than he thinks he is. Oh well.

Let's talk about the other guy. Lahpp.

Me. I created you. (I've said barely anything about this man on here so far bc while I could fill the 20k essay with him alone, writing about him intimidates me lol. Also in case you're ever asking yourself this, no I did not realize his name sounds like 'lab' until weeks after I created him. Unfortunate coincidence. So, anyway...)

Obedient Inquest scientist, questions but doesn't oppose orders, has been doing the same work for the better part of the last two decades. Day in, day out, getting up early and staying up late. Somewhere in the middle of the pyramid scheme, he's definitely got a bunch of heads above him but he's nowhere near the bottom end of the chain. Got his own little lab space. Enjoys music theory in the little free time he allocates. Assertive, lets people know when not to bother him, but very polite nonetheless. Has mastered the art of superficial small talk. The guy who holds open doors and pulls your chair back for you with an acted but convincing smile. Truly employee of the month material.

He's never known anything but this perfectly ordered working drone life so he's fairly content with his current position.

....

Yeeaah you guessed there's more below the surface.

So this man's life started with being the subject of a failed genetic dragon magic experiment, first one in a handful of infants that actually lived, but ultimately he got nothing out of it but a fair share of various health conditions and disabilities. The initial project was dropped after a few years of surveillance with no results, and instead he got handed over to one of the medical departments so they could "at least make use of him" and test some cutting-edge medical tech. No wasting ressources, am I right? (:

Fastforward some years, a miserable childhood full of abuse and ableism (and by extension just as much of it internalized) essentially left him with the obsession of wanting to fit in with everyone else, wanting to be like everyone else, never having anyone find out anything about his conditions and his past. Worked his ass off in college so it wouldn't be apparent he struggled when others didn't. Created a work environment for himself that he knew would be accommodating to him while not raising any possible questions.

He's been doing fine for some time now; while he definitely hasn't gotten rid of his insecurities he has somewhat accepted that he just... is who he is. Some days are worse and some days are better. His brain has done a very thorough job suppressing pretty much all his early childhood memories. He has also convinced himself that being a perfectly exploitable asset to the corporation that abused him for years is definitely the right way to stick it to the system. They said he'd never be useful for anything and die an early death? Ha, showed 'em! (I am saying this with a lot of sarcasm. He is genuine.)

He's definitely a product of the environment he grew up in, which is a shame because if he hadn't been indoctrinated by the Inquest since birth he would have probably turned out a pretty decent person. He doesn't have the absolute worst inner moral compass. Alas, as it is he has contributed to [some fucked up things] and has [some fucked up views]. And he's not about to change that.

So... at what point do the stories of these two actually connect?

Petthri and Lahpp first met within a larger group of mostly scientists from mixed divisions that were sent on a trip to Rata Primus.

I won't go into the full details of The Rata Primus Odyssey now because that is a whole different story arc involving a total of six of my characters, but the relevant information is that they arrived in the wrong place at the wrong time (A Bug In The System says hello!), and got trapped in the main complex together (alongside Phlish and my charr engineer Leto) when Awakened shit hit the fan.

In short, the following escape mission lasted way too long, and made for an incredibly exhausting 0/10 experience for everyone involved. Cooperation between our two relevant asura actually went surprisingly smooth for the most part, at least way better than with the rest of the small group.

(Bringing that old edit back. Two criminals actually getting shit done in the back while the others are about to snap each other's head off.)

I did once offhandedly mention that Lahpp held Petthri at gunpoint exactly one time – that was here. He was not going to risk getting onto HQ's watch list for letting a prisoner slip away while he's even remotely involved.

Ultimately exhaustion and having no access to important medication for a prolonged amount of time got the better end of Lahpp, and while the other two would have probably just left the "dead weight" behind, Petthri made sure he made it out with them. Not a great time for the little Inquest criminal, both physically and mentally given his inclination for secrecy regarding certain topics.

A few days after they returned to the CoE Petthri checked up on Lahpp to make sure he's recovering, but afterwards... radio silence from both sides for the next few years.

–

Fastforward, it's now Cantha time!

If Lahpp had a piece of gold for everytime HQ sent him away on a "business trip" that'll end up nearly killing him, and likewise Petthri had one for everytime he'd be witness to that, they'd both have... two pieces of gold, which isn't much, but it's still weird it happened twice.

Once again as part of a larger group, our criminals find themselves in New Kaineng City. And because I am a mere human being that is not above resorting to overused tropes, they do of course end up having to share the same room for the time of their stay. I never claimed to be a mastermind storywriter.

At least this time the trip starts out fairly unspectacular, with mostly guided group tours through the city and its labs. Lahpp is not feeling too great (understatement) during all of this for reasons he can't quite grasp, but he's got a really bad gut feeling. Petthri actually notices he's lingering a lot and falling behind, so he suggests they split off from the rest of the group and go back to their room early. Get some rest, the journey to Cantha was long after all.

The next days are pretty calm, the Inquest is snooping around while our two heroes actually have some time to talk and get to know each other a little more. Petthri finally gets to tell someone his whole 'and this is how I was kidnapped!' story. Petthri's questions are getting a little too personal for Lahpp's taste, but overall they get along alright. It's almost like two people that have been way too lonely for several years are actually finding a bit of comfort for a moment. (Side note: Petthri warms up to people very quickly, and he might be (without realizing it) getting a little too comfortable with the idea of having found someone "redeemable".)

Now wouldn't it be great if a nearby reactor blew up and an elder dragon escaped?

The event itself isn't really affecting them (yet) but I do think Lahpp must be questioning the Eternal Alchemy at this point. Thaumanova. Multiple near-meltdowns in the Crucible. Rata Primus. Now this. Seriously, at some point it's just ridiculous.

With each new information surfacing, the "bad gut feeling" is slowly but surely turning into mild but continuous panic. Something is off and it clearly has something to do with dragons. Now, Lahpp never really cared about the whole elder dragon business. Whatever sort of magic experiment he was used for, it's the outcome that affected his life, not the source of it. Still, the thoughts are starting to occupy his mind more than he'd like to admit. Petthri is entirely unaware of any of this.

Oh wait – what's this? A new unknown form of raw magic rapidly spreading and threatening to destroy Tyria? Obviously this is something to be investigated, so the larger group coordinates an excursion to Dragon's End. And obviously they end up getting into the battle for the jade sea.

I guess at this point you see where my art is coming from.

Petthri and Lahpp never get to fight Soo-Won herself (no canon meta participation alas), but they are busy enough fending off Void creatures on ground level anyway. It's unclear (to me) if or how much the Void actually affects Lahpp on a physical level, but regardless he is not having the best time being confronted with something that is so unknown to him and yet so closely connected to his very being.

Some resurfacing traumatic memories combined with a not-so-pretty panic attack (and the physical stress of fighting) later, it's poor Petthri's task to once again take a blacked out criminal to safety. Meanwhile he's got absolutely no idea what is going on, but he's definitely going to demand some explanations.

For some days after this Petthri's playing bedside vigil in a New Kaineng medical facility. The two have a lot of time to talk. Personal topics. Uncomfortable topics. Lahpp does tell Petthri to go back to Rata Sum, he's beyond caring at this point. Quite frankly he thinks HQ won't care either. Petthri refuses to leave just like that. Asks Lahpp to come with him, he'll be better off away from the Inquest. Obviously Lahpp is not having any of it, he's very well aware the Inquest is as corrupt as it gets, but so is Rata Sum. That's just how the world functions. The Inquest has the meds and tech he needs to survive. He's not leaving. And he certainly doesn't need anyone acting self-sacrificial out of pity. It's degrading.

He tells Petthri to sleep on it and make up his mind the next day.

–

Aaand that is pretty much where the somewhat coherently planned part of my current rat-timeline ends. A glimpse into vague concepts for the future:

Enter a third character to the roster! It's Luqqah, Inquest medic-turned-biochemist. She happened to be in Cantha for a while now, doing her own research. She gets involved treating the injured after the whole Void mess. Naturally she ends up finding Petthri and Lahpp. Lucky for the latter, because she obviously has better knowledge dealing with asura than any of the human medics. And... in fact... she has pretty detailed knowledge about what's up with Lahpp specifically. Dealt with his medical papers in the past. Oh, also... they're exes. Don't worry, parted on good terms. Haven't seen each other since shortly after the Thaumanova meltdown. What a reunion.

So... yeah. It's gonna be trio time from now on. I don't know yet for how long the three of them stay in Cantha, or if they're going to get involved with the whole Gyala Delve storyline (or whatever comes out of it). Lahpp's not doing great, he'll need a while recovering. If he ever fully recovers. Petthri has a few of his own inner demons to fight. Time will tell.

As a conclusion... Petthri's saviour complex sets him on a good path towards a corruption arc while Lahpp's as close to a redemption arc as he'll get. They're both questioning their life and views a lot. Spoiler from the Omniscient Narrator: Both of them will be back in the Crucible. But with more thoughts to think than before. And more time to spend together.

And that's what's currently up with the rats.

[bullet-prooflove]

Vacation Days - Terry Bruno x Reader (NSFW)

Because apparently I am obbessed with side characters :)

You had never been to Belize; in fact, you had never been anywhere outside of the US. You’d never had the means or the opportunity, you and Terry had always talked about travelling but it had been a pipe dream, something to think about after the two of you retired.

Then that whole shitstorm had happened with Bronx SVU, he’d been fired trying to advocate for those girls, for doing the right thing in that hell hole. When he sued them, he hadn’t been looking for a pay-out.  He’d been looking for justice because Bronx SVU was in a state of crisis and those victims, the new ones and the old ones they were simply a file shoved underneath a forgotten coffee cup. He’d received a healthy sum in return for blowing the whistle on the higherups, and he was back in a job, correcting the wrongs that had been perpetrated against those victims.

The two of you needed a break, you were exhausted and overworked from your stint in Homicide and Terry had been putting in all the hours God sent trying to fix the problems that his previous Captain had papered over. When he’d surprised you with a trip to a private island in Belize, you were gobsmacked. You tried to refuse but Terry wasn’t having any of it, the two of you had barely managed to snag more than a couple of hours together and he wanted this, he wanted to spend his money on something worthwhile. Somewhere secluded, where you could just be yourselves, take the time to relax and enjoy one another.

Sun, sea, sand and you. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

You had barely been here a day and he was already beginning to shed the stress that had manifested over the past few months. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this free, that he’d been able to actually breathe.

You were lying on a blanket on the beach when he approached you with a chilled bottle of water. Your book was resting beside you, face down. You were clad in orange bikini bottoms, that hugged your hips just right and nothing else. The advantage of a private island.

You looked delectable; he felt a stirring in his groin as he drank you in. Your eyes were closed, your expression blissful as you lay beneath the parasol. His gaze slipped lower, those beautiful breasts, sensitive nipples he wanted to get his mouth on and lick until you were keening against him. He remembered how good you felt under his hands as they glided down your waist.

He dropped down beside you, setting the water down alongside your book. His fingertips plucked at the string holding your bikini bottoms in place, toying with it between his fingers.

It felt like he hadn’t touched you like this in age, there were stolen moments, quickies in between shifts but he hadn’t had the chance to take his time, to savour you the way he wanted to. He started at your knees, his lips brushing over your skin as his palm chased up along the inside of your thigh. You tasted of coconut, sighing under his touch as he doodled a small pattern even higher. He smiles because he knows that noise, knows that you are relaxed and contented. Already he can see the moisture gathering between your legs, a slight damp patch on the cleft, marring the fabric. A low moan rolls off your lips as he brushes his finger over it.

“Do you want more baby?” he asks you, using two fingers to draw a circle on your clit.

“Please Terry.” You murmur as his fingertips trail along your wet folds. You want to sink down on his fingers, for them to fill you, he can feel it in the way you arch your hips each time he sweeps over your needy cunt.  

He shifts until he’s situated between your legs, his fingers still running over the fabric of your bikini bottoms. His fingertips toy with the elastic as that devilish smile crosses his features as he lowers his mouth to your clothed mound. His breath ghosts across your clit, causing a whine to escape your throat.

“I love having you like this, love being able to do whatever the fuck we want.” He tells you as tugs at the string holding your bottoms in place. He strips away the material before pressing his mouth to your clit. You cry out at the sensation of heat engulfing your system as he kisses that delicate bundle of nerves the same way as he kisses your mouth. It’s soft and tender, almost exploratory as he maps out the shape of you with his tongue.

It's been a while since he has loved you like this, since he’s been able to lose himself in the act of pleasure and he wonders how he could have possibility of gone so long without it. Your distinct taste under his tongue, your fingers in his hair, the way you arch your hips… Fuck he wants more, he craves it. He adds one finger at first, just enough to tease you. You meet each gentle thrust with a whimper, the delirium chasing through your veins like a narcotic.

You’re an addict who needs their fix, you want the rush, but Terry is slow and methodical, he builds you up, drawing out the rapture until you feel yourself on the cusp. He leaves you there, suspended in the euphoria, skin flushed and breathing ragged. Just as you start to come down, he adds another finger. He thrusts them even deeper, hitting that deviant little spot inside you that sends you hurtling over the edge.

It's like a wildfire exploding through your synapses, you drown in the sensation as it erupts inside of you, tearing his name from your lips as he fucks you through it wringing every last ounce of ecstasy from you. His tongue replaces his fingers as he laps up every drop of candied honey, cleaning up that sensual mess.

“Think you can give me another?” He whispers against your inner thigh, looking up at you with feverish eyes. “I need more.”

Love Terry Bruno? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[whentherewerebicycles]

ok just need to do some head/heart-clearing journaling below the cut.

i’m in my sixth month in this job and nothing has really gotten better. i spent the first couple months crying after work multiple times a week, including perhaps my lowest moment where i was so overcome by existential despair i felt myself starting to cry IN A MEETING and had to make up an excuse to gather myself off camera. the last few months have been a little better (the existential despair is humming along at bearable background levels!) but i still feel out of sorts, disconnected from myself, and just... listless.

here are the biggest issues:

not enough work. this is killing me. i don’t need to be working literally every second from 9-5 and i don’t miss the teacher lifestyle of grading all weekend, but goddd I need projects you know? i need short- and long-term projects. i need things i’m working on or goals i’m working towards. and i need that work to feel purposeful. not every task has to be imbued with Deep Meaning but i need to be doing more than sitting in a teams call watching my lead copy and paste text from an email onto a powerpoint for 45 minutes. i had that one big project that i got to project manage and collaborate with another team on and i REALLY enjoyed that even though i didn’t care at all about the content. i guess what i enjoyed was just like, that feeling of breaking a complex task up into smaller chunks and then make meaningful decisions about how to tackle different parts of it. and i really liked the team i was working with too and felt like i did a really good job building a positive working relationship with them & running some interference for them at a moment where our boss was really stressing them out. all of that was good! but that project is over now and my lead has been blocking me from taking on other projects like that for reasons unclear (i mean i have my theories but).

work is too solitary. i need like a 40% solitary 60% social balance in my work life. instead it’s like 90% solitary 10% social and most of my social contact is with a person who doesn’t listen to my ideas and at times is actively undermining me or taking credit for my work in front of others.

the way this organization thinks about learning is so, so flawed and so ineffective but my lead simply does not want to hear it and shuts down every effort i make to try to incorporate or introduce evidence-based methods into our work. everyone is really set on doing things the way they’ve always done them, largely i think because they have no real conception of how else things could look/feel/function or why that might be more effective. we’re supposed to be learning experts but the person right above me is so committed to managing our boss’s feelings that she never actually provides expertise.

i’m not gonna rehearse my litany of grievances against the person who manages my day to day work here but let’s just say i am at my breaking point!!!! it is so exhausting to be under the thumb of someone who needs total control over everything i do and who seems to be so insecure about their own role/expertise/whatever that they have to actively block me from taking on new projects or pursuing professional development opportunities or communicating with anyone else in the office or speaking in meetings. like literally i can’t speak in meetings because they will tell me to ‘let them handle it’ & won’t let me get a word in edgewise & then if i do speak they’ll interrupt or speak over me to clarify what i ‘really’ meant. also this person wronged me last week lol and i’m going to be a grownup about it but i am certainly not going to forget that it happened.

there are no signs of improvement on the horizon & no route to getting out from under from this person’s supervision. honestly this job would be Fine if this person would get out of my way and let me do my job. but they will not and the more i try to make this job useful/purposeful to myself the more they perceive me as a threat who must be neutralized, even if nothing i am doing is challenging their position at all. i think i have one nuclear option (lol) which is going to my contractor boss and saying that i’d like them to consider assigning me to a completely different office, like essentially creating the same position for me in a place where there currently isn’t an L&D team... and that could work because i think there’s need for that, but the person who currently supervises me would interpret this as a declaration of all-out war and if it didn’t pan out i would really fuck up my own working life there. so i am loath to try that unless things get a lot worse or until i have some other potential job prospects on the horizon.

here’s what’s “good” about the job: the money is stupid, there’s no commute, i can do the work with 95% of my brain tied behind my back, and my schedule is stupidly flexible.

people keep telling me that when i have a tiny shrieking infant living in my house i will wish i had a job that paid stupid money and required absolutely nothing from me. and i am sure that they are right in some ways! having an easy pointless well-compensated job would certainly relieve many financial and mental stressors! but also, as i’ve been thinking about the ways in which my life is likely to change, i also feel like... hmm. how to articulate this. my sense is that becoming a parent for the first time is a pretty intense crisis of the self moment, where the self you were and the life that self lived at least partially dissolve or are exploded or whatever and you find yourself in a new life structured by radically different routines and obligations and emotions. i know you can’t really prepare for that but maybe you can at least sort of start to mentally prepare the groundwork for: i’m not going to feel like my old self for a while, maybe for a very long time, and that’s going to be both exciting and profoundly destabilizing, in the way that huge life transformations or upheavals always are.

the problem is, i’ve already spent the past six months feeling disconnected from my sense of self, listless, unsure of my purpose, cognitively dulled, etc etc. i feel like i’ve tried to fill the void of meaning in my life with small, self-focused, kinda myopic activities that are “nice” and enjoyable but do not make me feel connected to any kind of purpose or meaning that transcends the self and its petty little concerns. i’ve obsessively focused on decorating my house. i’ve focused on food and cooking. i’ve focused on exercise and my weight and on buying a new wardrobe. like, don’t get me wrong, it’s really good for me to get enough exercise and learn how to cook good, nutritious food and create a home space that i love living in. but those activities, for me, are best when they’re kind of at the margins of my “real” life, a life of intellectual and interpersonal and professional purpose. it’s nice to cook a nice meal, but it’s much, much better (to me!) to spend the day absorbed in a big planning project or doing work with students and then come home and make a nice meal. i guess the simple way of putting it is: i’ve been nourishing my senses and that’s good, that’s important, but i gotta be nourishing my spirit too. i believe in the soul, you know? and i believe in the soul-expanding power of really meaningful work, really meaningful relationships. the power of a life that’s well & usefully & purposefully lived. and right now i just feel... idk. i feel cramped, listless, self-absorbed in my soul. and that feels so bad to me. that hurts me. it’s like this dull ache inside of me all the time that i try to soothe by buying more things or painting another wall or whatever.

and i guess like... i don’t want to bring new life into the world when i’m feeling like that. i don’t want to move directly from a period of feeling totally adrift and lost and disconnected from myself into a period of my life where i will maybe feel overwhelmed and terrified by new responsibility and adrift in a new way. i don’t want to have to do the work of rebuilding my sense of self twice over, you know? idk i’m not articulating this well i need to think about it a bit more i think. but i guess too like... i don’t want to raise a kid doing a job that kills my soul. i want to have a part of myself that feels like a writer or a thinker or a teacher, even if i am also a parent and have to find ways to integrate those different facets of myself. i want to be a parent very badly but i want to find a way to parent that feelis aligned with my values and ultimately, in the long run, makes me feel more like myself, even if that self undergoes many transformations in the process. IDK can’t untangle my own feelings here, not sure i am really managing to articulate what’s in my head/heart, but like.. i guess...

i don’t feel like me right now

i may be about to experience a crisis of the self (parenthood) that may make me feel very alien to myself in some ways 

i would like to embark on that journey of self-dissolution / self re-formation from a place of feeling really solid in myself, rather than from a place of feeling extremely adrift, unmoored, at sea. i want to feel like there’s a solid place .. not to return to exactly, but to find again or find in another way on the other side of the sleeplessness and the terror of being responsible for a small person and so on.

i also just want my kid to see me as someone who loves their work. not “work” in the capitalist sense but work in the life’s work sense. i think it is so deeply human, maybe the most deeply human thing of all, to crave purpose and to seek out purposeful work that makes us feel more like ourselves and more connected to the people around us. maybe not everyone feels that way! but i do! that’s an important thing to me! and i think it’s worth starting to take some big life re-evaluation steps now to bring myself closer to that way of living.

[ficthots]

Blackout

A/N: Okay here’s a birthday fic for Peter that I’m posting on Andrew’s birthday because we wouldn’t have our beloved Peter #3 without him! It’s a cute, fluffy, adorable piece. I hope you guys enjoy it and as always let me know what you think! (P.S. these pictures are exactly how I picture Peter in this fic, okay bye!)

Word Count: 6.2k+

Birthdays are funny in that they vary depending on the person being celebrated. There are those who adore birthdays and attempt to stretch them out for all they’re worth. One single day isn’t enough to celebrate them so a birthday week is more appropriate or even a birthday month. There are those who despise birthdays and detest growing older, forgoing the festivities entirely.

People like your best friend, Peter, are completely indifferent to them. He wouldn’t mind a handmade card and a single cupcake and would be content. If someone decided to throw a bash he would appreciate the effort that went into the planning and those that took time out of their schedule to attend. The key being he was simply happy to be involved.

Every year you tried to gain insight into how he was feeling about his birthday to gauge what he would most enjoy and for the last few years it had been incredibly simplistic. Last year consisted of cake, ice cream, a singular present, and a handmade card which had sent him over the moon.

May had snuck into the apartment whilst you two were sleeping and decorated the space. Balloons littered the floor, streamers hung from the walls and ceiling, a happy birthday banner strung along the wall met you both with a surprised laugh.

Peter had started the day with a birthday bagel and a large smile and ended the day with consuming  ¾ of an entire birthday cake and a crafty birthday card which took you three hours to make that he swore he would cherish always. This year was going to be different. Very different.

He gingerly opened the card you had presented to him the day before his birthday, eyeing you with questions dancing in his eyes as you bounced excitedly on the couch next to him. When two faux plane tickets fell out onto his lap, his brows furrowed.

“Okay, so obviously I couldn’t get the real ones yet because they’re on my phone, but I’m taking you on a trip for your birthday this year!” You couldn’t contain your excitement as he monitored you from the corner of his eye, trying to read what the tickets said your destination was.

He chuckled as he saw the city written in gold lettering, glitter cascading down onto his shirt. “Vegas?” You jumped up and did your best Elvis impersonation you could manage. “Uh huh. It’s only for a quick weekend getaway, but I wanted to do something big for you this year and what’s bigger than Las Vegas!”

Peter rubbed his face and laughed at your excitement as you bounced around the living room. “We leave tomorrow morning?” You landed on his lap, his hands pulling you into him to wrap you up in a hug. “Thank you. This’ll be great,” you placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek as you stood, taking him with you and leading him towards his room.

“We need to get you packed. I’ve been packed for three days. Do you know how hard it was to keep this a secret from you?” He leaned on the doorframe, watching you in adoration as you rambled on about how long you had been planning this birthday surprise for him.

It was freezing. You peeked your eyes open and the room was wrapped in darkness. Only a top sheet covered you as you attempted to gather your bearings and let your eyes adjust to the pitch black surroundings.

As you moved your neck you felt like a semi truck had run you over, a headache pounding against your head, eyes feeling like they were going to fall out. You whimpered, a groan following as the body in bed next to you began to move.

“I need you to stop moving,” a hand landed on your bare back, stilling you. His voice was scratchy and sleep riddled, but you knew it was Peter. You rolled over facing him as you saw his eyes were heavy with exhaustion, bloodshot and barely opened.

The mattress below you felt like a water bed as you rolled. “I’m gonna throw up,” you whispered out. The thwip of webs echoed in the quiet room as a trashcan landed under your chin seconds later. “Do it in the bin, please,” he grabbed a fistful of your hair as you dry heaved.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you reached blindly on the nightstand next to you for the bottle of water you explicitly remember placing there for your future self. “Peter, I can’t-I can’t find it,” you murmured out.

A loud sigh left him as he prepared himself to sit up for the first time. He exhaled dramatically as he propelled himself up to scan the room for the bottle. Another web released as he found it, but this time not as nimble as before. You heard the thump of it hitting him in the temple.

Giggles fell from you as he tossed the bottle to you, laying down whilst rubbing the spot, landing harshly on his pillow as you sipped, washing the remnants of bile from your mouth.

“Are you as naked as I am right now?” He spoke out after a few minutes as you rubbed at the bridge of your nose, a dull ache persistent.

Your hand went below the sheet and felt your bare thigh. “Mhm,” you mumbled back as he groaned. Neither of you spoke again as you searched your memories, trying to piece together what had happened the night before.

“Fuck. Did we-did we do it?” You swallowed thickly at the possibility. The relationship you two had always teetered on more. People commented all the time on the closeness of you both. You were a borderline couple as is, but this was a threshold you had only ever thought of, never acting on.

There had been a few drunken kisses exchanged before, his touch familiar and comfortable because it happened so often, and you said you loved each other constantly. Nearly every single day, but was Peter in love with you like you knew were with him?

You sighed as you peered at the boy next to you. He was incredibly handsome. Sure, you’d harbored a crush on him for a few years, but you knew better than to act on it. However, drunk you was an entirely different person, obviously, and although the actions from the previous night were slipping your mind, based on the current situation, sex was entirely plausible.

“I’m thinking yes, but I don’t remember anything. Do you remember anything, Pete?” He shook his head, hair flopping around as he did. “I don’t. I take that back. I remember a lot of lights. Like neon lights. Signs maybe?” You chuckled as you moved to your back. “That means we were on the Strip.”

Your left hand went to your face, rubbing your eye when you felt something unfamiliarly cool brush against your skin. You peeked your eye open to see what it was. As you held your hand out in front of you both, you looked at the gold band around your ring finger.

“When did I get a ring?” He leaned over, resting his large head on your covered chest, nuzzling into you. “Dunno,” was all he offered in return. You dropped your arm, tracing circles on his skin.

A loud, shrill sound rang. “Oh no, no, no. Peter, get it! Turn it off!” Your hands went to your ears, burying your face in the pillow as he climbed over you, grabbing the hotel phone and answering it.

“Hello? Okay, thank you,” he placed the phone back on the receiver and pushed off of you, standing up. “We set up a wake up call,” you groaned, pulling the sheet over the top of your head, cursing your past self for it.

Peter shuffled around as he gathered his clothes, slipping back into them. He slowly approached the curtains. “Close your eyes. I’m opening them,” you started to protest, but to no avail. Without any hesitation he pulled them apart, light flooding into the room, piercing your eyes.

As he turned around his hand went to his mouth, looking around the room in bewilderment. You reappeared from under the covers and saw what he was gawking at. The entire room was borderline trashed.

Bedding and towels littered the floor, webs hung from the walls, takeout trash took up all possible countertop and table space, discarded alcohol bottles filled the nightstands and dresser top.

“Oh, babe. What did we do?” Peter’s laugh followed his question as he looked at the damage, moving towards the bathroom. Your gaze went upwards, looking at what awaited you on the ceiling.

In webbing, words sat there. Your eyes widened, sitting up fast and staring at the bathroom that Peter had just gone into in complete shock. JUST MARRIED. It stared down at you as you let it wash over you.

Slipping back into your t-shirt and panties you quickly approached the bathroom door, knocking fervently as the shower began to run. “Peter! Pete, open the door,” the door slid open as he appeared before you.

You reached in and grabbed his hand, seeing a gold band adorning his finger, matching yours. “Oh my god. Peter, oh my god!” He laughed as he held his hand up to yours. “We match. Look,” he continued chuckling as you walked back to the bed and sat with your head in your hands.

He followed you, concern etching across his face at your mood. “Babe, what’s wrong?” You looked into his honey eyes as he crouched in front of you, pointing upwards, silently telling him where to look. His head tilted back, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water at the wording.

“Holy shit. I don’t remember. Did we actually get married?” You shook your head, running your hands through your hair, pushing it away from your face. “I have no idea, Pete. I seriously am having such a hard time remembering anything. We’ve never gotten drunk like that before,” small tidbits of memories flashed in your mind.

Caesars Palace, laughing at the statue of the naked man and his penis. The Cosmopolitan and the chandelier bar. The Bellagio and the gardens. New York New York and the roller coaster. No memory of a wedding.

Your eyes flew open to see him standing in front of you, rubbing his face tiredly. The gold band looked immaculate on his slender flinger. It looked like it was always meant to be there. Your heart tightened at the thought that it was there because of you. For you.

“I don’t remember. I remember we started at Caesars. That’s where we found out that if you gamble they give you free drinks. We got shit faced playing video poker, walked around the casino floor and saw that statue of the naked guy. We laughed at his penis for like five minutes straight before we left. Where did we go next?”

Peter leaned on one leg, snapping his fingers as the memory washed over him. “We went right. You wanted to go to some bar you had heard a lot about. Like a lamp bar or something? We only got like one or two drinks there,” you laughed as you remember trying to act distinguished in the high end resort.

“Yeah, we-we ordered Cosmopolitans thinking it was funny. I sat on your lap the entire time because there was only one seat available. The waiter didn’t think it was as funny, but it was because I spilled the drink down the front of your white dress shirt,” Peter’s eyes closed as he recalled the events.

“That’s right. I had to buy another one. You didn’t want to walk all the way back to the hotel, I offered to swing us and you said, ‘You can’t do that. Spider-Man only exists in New York. Las Vegas doesn’t know about him,’ which is not true because I make national news almost every week,” you rolled your eyes as he approached you, hands cupping your jaw.

“Okay, let’s get ready. We’ll try and think of more, but I’m starving and so hungover and want waffles so bad,” he smushed your cheeks together, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead as you nodded your head. His eyes fell to your hand that rested on his hip. He hesitated for a second as he saw the band that sat on your skin.

Peter’s hands fell from your face as he moved back to the bathroom. “Do you want to shower first?” He stopped as he stood at the door, scratching the back of his neck, a light blush tinting his skin.

You nodded and smiled at him. It was a major step, but one that you felt was right in the moment. As you approached him, chests brushing together as you squeezed past to get in the bathroom, you gently kissed the underside of his jaw, feeling him still completely at the motion.

You didn’t want to overthink the situation as you undressed, the door open, his bare back facing you, offering you some privacy. It was silly, you thought. Not only had you two slept together last night, but you were married. Literally man and wife.

What did you want to happen? Lean into the drunken mistake and see what could happen? You had known him for years, he was your best friend, you loved him. You really did. Is this how you imagined this happening? No, not at all. Could you work with this, though?

You crossed the small bathroom, placing your hand on his back. He turned and saw you standing before him, completely nude. He swallowed thickly, almost frightened to look down and see anymore of you.

Letting your hand move to the back of his neck, lightly tugging at the stands that sat there, leaning towards one another. “I want to kiss you really bad, but I haven’t brushed my teeth and I got sick less than a half an hour ago,” he laughed, agreeing with you and watched as you stepped back from him.

“Do you-you wanna shower with me?” You let the question hang between you two, nerves wracking you. He could turn you down easily. Not wanting to let this go any further between you two. You braced yourself for the rejection that could answer every question swimming in your head, possibly shutting down any chance of making this weird situation work.

He only nodded, doe eyes staring down at you, a slight tremble to his hands. Your lip sucked between your teeth, gently gnawing at the flesh as you mimicked his move, nodding along with him. The water splashed against your shoulder, dipping your head back to feel the water pulsate against you.

Your headache was still pounding, but Peter’s arms enclosed around you, pulling you towards him. You opened your eyes and saw his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, yours in one of the hands wrapped around you, pressing into your back.

You took it from his hands, quickly running over your teeth, setting it on the shower lip. As soon as it was out of your hand, Peter had you pulled against him, lips crashing together. He turned you both so he stood directly under the water, hands holding your jaw in place to meld to him as he explored you.

An involuntary moan slipped past your lips as you felt his tongue brush against your lips, your hands tangling into his soaked hair, his stubble rubbing against your face as you two moved forward in whatever mess your drunkes selves had gotten you into.

Knowing Peter possibly felt the same turmoil of feelings you did made you feel better. Of course this was a complete disaster, but there was a chance you could make this work. You just needed to remember what the fuck had happened the night before.

“Watch, watch this. You-ya think you’re the only one who can do cool stuff?” You pulled Peter’s attention to yourself as you awkwardly jumped from a bench in front of The Linq. His jaw fell slack, clapping at your small exertion.

“Holy shit, that was awesome. I need to make you your own,” he looked around to see if there were people around you both, wrapping his arm around your neck and pulling you into him as he whispered into your ear. “I’m gonna make you your own web shooters. Can’t be Mrs. Spider-Man if you don’t have your own web shooter,” you nodded enthusiastically, sipping from the insanely large frozen daiquiri bottle you had purchased earlier that evening.

You hands grabbed at his dress shirt, crumpling it in your fist as you pulled him into a kiss. He fully leaned into you, hands pawing at your waist to get you as close to him as possible. “Thank you, Mr. Spider-Man. If I have my own web thingies then I can help you! We can save New York together,” your eyes glistened with tears at the idea of being crime fighting partners together.

He wiped at your eyes, a large goofy smile taking over his features. “No, no, no. Too dangerous for my wife. I’ll save New York for the both of us, ‘kay?” You sniffled as he kissed the apples of your cheeks. “M’kay. Wait! That’s the Eiffel Tower! When’d we get to Paris? You didn’t have to take me to Paris for our honeymoon!”

You groaned as you sipped your orange juice, a piece of paper in between you both as you mapped out the night, trying to place when and how it had happened. The only things that had been filled in so far was the start of the night at your hotel, The Wynn. Then you walked to Caesars, followed by the Cosmopolitan, and then New York New York where you both rode the roller coaster.

Photo evidence existed at the New York New York signaling you were already married, the bands clear as day in the souvenir picture. There was a large gap between the New York New York and the Cosmopolitan, knowing it had happened sometime between then.

The bar shenanigans had happened at or around ten pm and the photo from the ride was stamped at midnight, right when the ride closed for the night. You vividly remember begging the ride attendants to let you on for the last one of the night, claiming you were newlyweds and there was nothing more in the world that you wanted.

The Bellagio happened sometime after that, followed by getting dinner as husband and wife at In-N-Out. That trash was evident in the hotel room.

You two sat at a breakfast table by the pool, trying to piece the night together. Sunglasses sat on both of your faces, your hair put up, the heat already scorching. Peter’s fingers tapped the pen along the side of the table, hand rubbing at his jaw in confusion.

“And we have absolutely no pictures from the wedding? No pictures of us getting the rings?” You shook your head, resting your forehead in the palm of your hand. “I don’t think so,” your knee was continuously bouncing, but he reached out across the table, taking your hand into his.

“Babe, we’re gonna figure this out. I’m just sorry I got you into this,” his thumb brushed along the top of your hand. “What do you mean?” He leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “I’m pretty sure this was my idea. I mean I don’t entirely remember, but god it sounds like something I would do,” you laughed and nodded your head.

“Does sound like something you would do,” the server came over, placing eggs benedict in front of you and waffles in front of Peter. He thanked her as she lingered by the table for a minute, fluttering her eyelashes at the boy across from you.

She had been flirting with him since you had been seated in her section. At first you didn’t mind, but the more she did it and the more obvious it became, the more irritated you grew.

A sudden wave of jealousy washed over you at the audacity that this woman had to flirt with him right in front of you for the fourth time that morning. For some reason you both decided to wear the rings. Neither of you really said anything after you exited the shower together, got dressed, and both slipped the rings back on as you walked down to the pool restaurant for breakfast. It just felt right. At least for the mean time until you decided what your course of action was.

“I just wanted to say that you’re very handsome and if I could get your number,” you scoffed at her and her boldness and held his hand up towards her as his face grew pink. “We’re married, but thank you,” she opened and closed her mouth, quietly apologizing and scurrying off as Peter smirked.

“Jealous, huh?” You shrugged, stabbing the breakfast potatoes harshly. “I mean the ring was right there. She saw it,” he leaned on the table, both elbows on the surface. “You’re cute when you’re jealous,” your face grew warm at his words. You couldn’t fight the smile that took over your face when you looked at him.

He had such a large smile, showcasing all his teeth. “Eat your waffles.” A ding on your phone brought your attention to the screen. “Oh shit, Peter. These are our wedding pictures.”

“No, no, you don’t understand. We just got married tonight and all we want to do is ride the roller coaster. Please! My husband has been dying to do this since we landed here and I promised him we would,” the attendant rolled her eyes and motioned for you two to go through the line.

You jumped, spinning around and wrapping your arms around Peter’s neck in a tight hug. “C’mon, we gotta go!” He pulled you behind him, the top buttons on his shirt undone, hair a tousled mess from the night.

“When they take the picture on the ride we have to show our rings, okay?” You took his chin in your hand, trying to be serious, but failing as he nodded, leaning down to attack your neck in kisses. “Whatever you want, Mrs. Parker,” butterflies erupted in your stomach at the name.

Peter helped you sit in the coaster seat, pulling down the chest restraint for you, your dexterity practically non-existent. “Remember to show your ring!” You screamed out as the ride pulled out for the last course of the night.

“I’ll take a double double, animal style fries, and a lemonade,” you said, fully leaning your weight against Peter, exhaustion taking you over. He ordered the same, escorted you out to the Uber in the parking lot, and let your eyes fall shut as you went back towards the hotel.

The room was scorching when you entered, immediately taking your shoes off, ripping the comforter top from the mattress as you walked past. Peter handed you your burger as you took a huge bite, moaning as you chewed. He pulled you into his lap, eating your first meal together as husband and wife, giggling about the events that had transpired from earlier in the evening.

You grabbed his web shooters from his arm, letting him assist you in putting them on yourself as you shot the strands out all around the room. He put you on his back, crawling onto different walls to let you feel like you were Mrs. Spider-Man.

He took them back from you and the shit eating grin on his face made you laugh. “Here, lay-lay down. Close your eyes. I’m gonna do somethin’ for you,” you laid back on the bed, squeezing your eyes shut as you heard him working above you.

The bed shifted as he laid down next to you, snuggling into your neck as he did. “‘Kay, open your eyes,” you did and a loud gasp flew from your mouth as you saw the webbed writing on the ceiling.

JUST MARRIED. You sniffled as Peter kissed your neck and jaw, moving your head to capture your lips. “Love you,” he murmured against you. He climbed on top of you, deepening the kiss as you smiled against him, unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“Love you more.”

The sun had your skin feel like it was sizzling as you laid by the pool. A large shadow covered you and you peeked a glance at who was in front of you. Peter stood to the side of you, water dripping from him as he pushed his hair back, black swim trunks hugging his thighs as he smiled down at you. His muscles were on display and you couldn’t help but stare at the gorgeous boy.

“Come get in with me,” you shook your head and giggled. “Can’t get my hair wet,” an exasperated sigh fell from him as he got on his haunches to the side of you. His skin was cool to the touch, showing the water was a good temperature.

His fingertips tilted your head towards him, lips capturing yours sweetly as the water droplets from some stray strands dripped over your face. “Please? I promise I won’t get your hair wet,” your lips pursed in thought before giving in.

As you climbed into the water, Peter shot a group of guys a mean glare as he got in after you. “What was that about?” You asked as you leaned on the pool's side. He shrugged, looking back towards the group and seeing they had turned their attention elsewhere.

“Those dickwads have been oogling you since we got to the pool,” you looked over to where they sat and you smiled at the boy. “Didn’t notice. You’re sexy when you’re jealous,” he rolled his eyes as he approached you in the pool, hands landing on either side of you.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s rude to stare, no matter how pretty you are, but you’re mine,” your face burned at his words. You were his. Technically speaking you were his. He smiled as he leaned down, lips brushing together again. “Should we go to the chapel?” You asked as he pulled back, a sigh falling from him, his head dropping as he nodded.

“Seems like a smart choice, doesn’t it?” When your phone had gone off, the email only said that your wedding photos were ready for viewing at the Little White Chapel. It was going to be your best bet for answers.

Your hand gently touched his cheek as he went to move from you. “Hey, we’re good. Okay?” He smiled at you, kissing your forehead as you followed him out of the pool.

“Okay so tonight we need some sort of game plan,” you hobbled around the room, one heel on as you slipped into the other one. Peter stepped out of the bathroom and stopped in his spot as he eyed you.

His white button up and gray pants looked great together. He was rolling the sleeves to his elbows as he took you in. “Jesus, I’m gonna have to fight guys all night, aren’t I?” You stood up straight as you finished putting your earring in, beaming at him as he walked towards you.

“I look okay, then?” He laughed, tucking his web shooters into his pocket, smoothing his hair back as he put his shoes on. “Gorgeous, babe. Breathtaking as always,” your cheeks burned at his admission, going to your purse and pulling out two small Fireball shooters.

Hiding them behind your back, you smiled at him as he sat on the bed. “I need to see the chandelier bar at the Cosmo, the gardens at Bellagio, and we need to see the Eiffel Tower at the Paris,” he nodded his head at your plans.

“I only have one request,” you stood between his legs, one of his hands gently rubbing your thigh as he spoke. “I need to get In-N-Out at some point tonight. Don’t care when it is, but I need to,” his eyes narrowed at you and tried to look behind you.

“What’s behind your back?” You placed one of them in his hands and were giddy with excitement as you unscrewed your lid. “Just to start us off for the night,” he chuckled, taking the lid off of his and clinking the bottles together before swallowing the entire thing down in one go.

“Fuck. We’re gonna get hammered. Do you think we should leave notes for ourselves so we remember what happens tonight?” he asked as he followed you out of the hotel room.

“Nah, we’ll be fine. I don’t blackout when I drink, I’ll remember.”

The old woman that sat at the desk of the Little White Chapel, clasped her hands together, a look of excitement and joy washing over her as you two entered the building. Her name tag read Cheryl, but you didn’t recognize her despite the sheer joy seeping from her at your arrival.

“If it isn’t my two favorite newlyweds! Come, come, we have your adorable pictures ready,” you nervously turned to Peter, seeing him shoot you an uneasy glance as you followed her over to the computer.

When you took the seat next to Peter’s she giggled and turned the screen. “So, I see today you want your own chair. Last night, you refused!” You awkwardly laughed at her as she pulled up the pictures.

Your eyes widened and you brought your hand to your mouth, a gasp escaping you as you set eyes on your ceremony, your memory crystal clear on what had led to that moment you were looking at.

“Cheryl, can we have a moment?”

“Baby, baby, baby,” Peter’s hand enclosed around yours and pulled you into him. Your giggles were loud as you stood in front of the Bellagio fountains, waiting for the show to start. “Yes, that’s me,” you pushed your pointer finger into his cheek as his eyes scanned over your entire face.

“I have a secret to tell you,” he whispered out as your head fell to his chest, a surprised look etching onto your face. “Me? I know all your secrets, Peter,” your eyes scanned the crowds around you, but you pulled his head down to meet your lips as you whispered into his ear.

“I know you’re Spider-Man. Don’t worry, I won’t tell no one. Your secrets safe with me,” he didn’t move back far as he stared down at you, that goofy grin you loved so much that made your heart skip a beat every time you saw it took its form.

“No, that’s not it,” his hands moved from your hands to your jaw as he continued, watching your brows furrow in confusion. “I love you. I’m so in love with you. Stupidly in love with you. Have been for yyyeeaaarrsss,” he dragged out the word, laughter mixing with his words as he spoke.

You pulled him to you, securing his lips to yours. “Peter! I haven’t told you before cause of things, but I love you, too. So so much. I didn’t think you would like me back,” you felt tears welling in your eyes as you spoke, sadness closing around you at the thought.

“No, baby! I love you. I so love you,” you jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist, kissing your best friend for the first time romantically. Declaring your love for one another in a way that was possibly the least romantic way for it to have happened, but you didn’t care because Peter loved you.

Your eyes widened as a thought popped into your head. You pulled your head back from where it had been in his neck and looked down at the love struck man. “We should get married,” his eyes matched yours as he nodded his head eagerly.

“That’s such a good idea, babe! See, that’s why I love you. You’re so smart,” he spoke against your lips squished together. He set you down and grabbed your hand, smacking his own against his forehead.

“We gotta get rings and I need a new shirt since you won’t let me go back. I can’t marry you without a ring, sweetheart,” you wrapped your fingers together with his as he started pulling you towards the Forum Shops. “Okay, but they have to be matching. I wanna match with you,” he nodded his head, kissing your temple.

“Genius. Absolutely genius.”

You covered your eyes with your hand as you looked at the images. Uncontrollable laughter started to flow from you as Peter joined in. Neither of you could breath as you looked at the wedding picture album, wiping tears from your eyes as you looked at him.

“I can’t believe we did this, Peter,” he nodded his head, laughter still wracking him. There you two stood at the altar, Elvis Presley officiating, as Peter dipped you, locked in a deep kiss, one of your legs kicked up.

His hand never left yours, thumb continuously rubbing the back of your hand. “Fuck, I know,” he finally manged to catch his breath and you looked at him, guilt wracking you.

“It was my idea, Peter,” his eyes looked around widely as he tried to place the memory. His eyes met yours, widening as you nodded your head, a laugh escaping you. “You told me you loved me and I said we should get married. So we did. This was all me,” he rubbed his jaw, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing the band that wrapped around your finger.

“Let’s order these pictures because they’re amazing. We’ll get back to the hotel and talk about it, okay?” You nodded your head as he called the woman back in.

“We’ll take the lot.”

Cheryl placed the bouquet in your hands, a tiny veil adorned your head as you turned back towards Peter. You nervously bounced around, looking at him.

You were about to marry Peter and it was the best idea you had ever thought of. Now, you were shocked Peter went along with it, but it meant he loved you too. All those years spent pining for him, living in the same apartment together, could’ve been spent as a couple.

It was incredibly silly when you thought about it, but you were about to rectify that right now. Peter’s smile grew as he eyed you. “My beautiful bride. Fuck, I’m gonna marry the shit out of you right now,” you let him pull you into a kiss, all nerves forgotten. He winked at you as he walked into the chapel to wait for you to walk down the aisle to him.  

“Cheryl, you’re amazing and it’s Elvis right? He’s gonna marry us? Cause that’s what my fiance wants and I want him happy,” You asked Cheryl as she helped you adjust the veil back into place that Peter had knocked off center with the force of the kiss he had planted on you.

“Yes, honey. Elvis is out there with him now. You’re all set,” you gave her a big hug as the music echoed, signaling it was time for your walk. You practically ran down the aisle to meet him at the end. There was Elvis, in all his glory, waiting to marry you both.

When you reached the altar, Peter took your hands in his, bouquet forgotten and tossed onto one of the pews. “This is one of the best impersonators I’ve ever seen,” Peter whispered to you in amazement. You nodded enthusiastically, scanning the costume the man adorned. “Oh my gosh, I know!”

The ceremony was fast, done in the blink of an eye, but Peter stopped Elvis before he finished. “Wait, wait. I have to say something. Honey, you are the light of my life. I thought I knew happiness before I met you, but that doesn’t even compare to how I feel when I’m with you. You are the love of my life. You are the funniest, sweetest, most caring and loving person I know. I cannot even begin to imagine my life without you, baby. I know this is crazy and we did this so fast, but that’s so much better. We get to figure it all out together. You and me. Husband and wife. Mr. and Mrs. Parker. Forever. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my days with you. We should go to In-N-Out for dinner after this and then-”

You paused the video as Peter continued rambling, laughter wracking you both at his words. Tears were streaming down your face as you sat on the hotel bed with him. When you two got back to the room you silently cleaned up, not knowing what to say to each other.

Confessing love is one thing, but getting married is another beast. Something that should’ve happened in the future. Not on a drunken trip to Vegas.

Peter cleared his throat as you looked at him, wiping your eyes. “I meant it. Every word. I know it’s incredibly stupid what we did, but I’m happy. I’m so happy. I really do love you that much. I’ve loved you since I’ve known you. If you don’t want to stay married that’s fine, but I just want you to know that I love you. A lot.”

You leaned forward, joining together in a deep kiss as you laughed through wet tears. “I love you, Peter. I think we can work this out,” a triumphant smile graced his features. “I know we can, babe. Best birthday ever.”

Your laugh bounced off the walls as he attacked your sides, lips nibbling on your neck as he moved you both to lay down. “Peter, how do we clean the webs off the ceiling?”

[povcastiel]

I’M NO ANGEL

[ This piece was inspired by the specific episode I named this after. As always, I found myself deep in my feelings over Castiel and his troubling time as a human. Of course, it developed into something more. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. It’s been a while… ]

Synopsis | Castiel has only begun to learn the trials and tribulations of a human life. Thankfully, he’s managed some help along the way. When he ends up injured and alone, there’s only one place he knows to go.

Tags | Angst, Self Doubt, Supernatural, Human!Reader/Angel, Nurse!Reader, First Time, Innocence, Romance, Fluff, Female!Reader, Castiel being soft, Reader comforting Castiel

Warnings | Talk of injuries, Feelings of Loneliness, Past Trauma, Blood, Torture, Castiel being sad, Self doubt, Angst, Loss of Virginity, Sexual Content

Word Count | 5.2k

Rating | R, minors do not read

Exhaustion had crept its way into your bones. Eyes burning with the desperation of sleep, reaching a point of deprivation you hadn’t known existed. Perhaps you’d pushed yourself too hard. Work made for a distraction and the last few months had been… interesting to say the least. You craved normalcy, anything to rid yourself of the crippling paranoia. To your dismay, time at the hospital seemed to only multiply your stress. Not to mention the endless stream of phone calls. A voice message, always in a familiar voice, left on the answering machine at home. You had two guesses — Dean or Sam Winchester. That in itself seemed to be the only highlight of every long, agonizingly slow day. To know you had someone thinking of you.

You rummaged through your locker, packing up your belongings into a small duffel bag. Strands of your pulled back hair now framed your face. The zipper was the only means to break the silence. Left alone, as you’d taken up the night shift through most of the week. Your feet ached and that pain had radiated up your sore calves. A nice bath would do you good and the very thought gave you more incentive to quicken the pace.

Taking your keys into your grasp, you slung the strap over your shoulder and made your way out of the locker room. You passed the station, bidding goodnight to the other nurses. Your smile fading quickly once hidden behind the closed doors of the elevator. You leaned against the wall, your head dipping backwards. Easily, you allowed your eyes to fall closed.

Your scream echoed through the abandoned warehouse, a cry of agony which had left your throat hoarse. Another hour of this hell and you’d surely have no voice left to beg with. Alastair wouldn’t have that though. He wanted to hear every last shriek, moan, and wail that left your cracked lips. You were bare, stripped naked and if that wasn’t mortifying enough—being strapped down and displayed to him made you wish to perish from the earth alone.

“Please! Oh, god! Please!” You cried. He twisted the knife brutally, digging into your flesh. You’d already passed out a handful of times, only for him to awaken you once more and begin the process again.

“You’re a tricky one to find, Y/N.” He sang, all the while continuing his work. Your sobs went unnoticed by the demon. The utter joy on his face made you nauseous. You squeezed your eyes shut, another loud cry echoed against the walls. You jerked against your restraints and prayed to anyone, anything, to make the horrendous torture end. To your surprise, Alastair did stop, but only briefly. You laid your head back against the cold table. Your heart pounding in your ears, head swimming, and your throat desperate for water. He touched your head and began to coo at you, to which you turned your head away in disgust. He leaned further down, his hot breath touching your ear. You shuddered, flinching away with what strength you had.

“You belong with us…” He hissed his words, like the serpent he was, sent straight from hell.

Ironically enough, you harshly bit down. Jerking your head to look at him. Gathering the blood in your mouth, you spat at him. “Go to hell.”

This commenced his wicked abuse, carving you and using you for all it was worth. The room was spinning again. All you could do was plead and beg, hoping to either be saved or succumb to your injuries.

Death had never tasted so sweet.

By the time Sam and Dean discovered you, Alastair disappeared. Leaving you in a mess of your own blood. Your consciousness was wavering, as your head lolled to the side. You barely even noticed the hands that were making quick work to undo the straps, which held your body down.

“She needs medical attention. Immediately.” Castiel’s voice sounded, full of urgency and authority.

“Cas?” You called out in disbelief. Was it really over? Your head turned to discover his ocean eyes peering down at you with visible concern. He gave a grave expression, perusal.

His strong, lithe hands delicately lifted you from the metal table. Dean aided him, while doing his best to remain respectful. It wouldn’t have mattered, as you were too far gone into shock to care whether or not everything was on display. Cas had shed out of his trenchcoat almost immediately. You felt the coat drape around your shoulders, as he pulled it tightly around you. Thus giving you more decency. With that, he lifted you into his arms. Your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, your hands limp in your lap.

“You’re safe now.” He mumbled. His tone rumbling in his chest, vibrating against your burning face. This only confirmed his presence not to be that of a dream, but reality.

The elevator seemed to move deliberately slow, at the expense of your aching feet. When the doors slid open again, you pushed off the wall and exited. The fluorescent bulbs above you ceased to burden your vision, as you found yourself swallowed into the night of the city. Your chaos of the day being left behind, as you trudged your way across the pavement of the parking lot. With a few clicks on the unlock button, you located your car by the flashing head and rear lights. Your bag was the first thing to go, left behind in the backseat.

“Y/N…” A familiar voice addressed you. Gravely yet monotone.

If it hadn’t been your support on the open door of your vehicle, you believed you might have fallen back. Your hand clutched at your chest, your keys rattling in your grasp.

“Jesus Christ!” You exclaimed.

Castiel’s blue eyes were piercing. He possessed such sadness and disorientation, or perhaps that was guilt. Either way, he looked like a wounded animal. A kicked dog, wandering the streets. His usual attire was in disarray. His trenchcoat was missing, his tie gone and his white shirt mangled and torn. The fabric stained with blood and his face was evident of a scuffle, with a cut to his cheek bone and one above his left brow. Once you had taken in his wrecked state, you moved around your open door and moved toward him.

“Cas…” You breathed, as you began to truly examine him. Checking for any serious injuries right away. “What happened?” You asked, concern clear in your tone and forming in the expression on your face.

You tilted your head up at the Angel. Castiel shook his head, before looking off at nothing in particular.

“I’m not sure where I’d even begin.” He admitted with weariness. “Dean...” Cas parted his lips, but the words wouldn’t come. Or at least they seemed too painful to reveal.

“What about Dean?” You questioned, your brow knitted together. You were desperate for any sort of answer now. To know what the hell was going on.

“Can we… Discuss this somewhere more, appropriate?” He asked.

You were reluctant not to grill him, but you were far too tired yourself to even begin to think about arguing. A simple nod was all you managed, before motioning for him to get into the car. Cas rounded the front of the Toyota, as you proceeded to slip behind the wheel.

The drive was silent, as Cas seemed to be pondering something, clearly weighing heavy over him. This seemed unusual for him, not to mention his battered state. At least unusual in a way that this always meant something was wrong. You’d been around the Angel long enough to know when he was troubled. You wondered if Dean and Sam had seen him first. Had they turned him away? What was going on?

Every now and then Castiel’s blue oceans would slowly drift over in your direction. He’d study your profile until it caused you to look over, only to find him facing forward once more. You sighed softly and broke the silence.

“How badly are you injured?” You asked, deciding this would be a good place to start. Or, at least, his condition should be a priority.

You owed him.

“Nothing I haven't handled before.” He mumbled, sure of himself, his voice rumbling in his chest, but his doubt lingered beneath the surface. The way he looked out the window only confirmed his words weren’t so truthful. Cas appeared like a child again, watching the scenery drift by in a haze as you drove on. Your will to carry the conversation had subsided and you let the two of you commence in silence. Though it wasn’t awkward, your worry continued to grow all the way to the sight of your house.

Upon pulling into the driveway, Cas was the first to move out of your car. Your eyes followed his figure and they widened when he nearly collapsed. His hands gripped the top of the door and he grunted lowly. You hurried from your seat, delayed by your seatbelt, and ran around the sedan to reach him.

“Cas!” His name fell from your lips in a panicked tone. You reached for him and to your surprise, he didn’t argue to handle himself. In fact, Cas seemed to welcome your touch and your comfort.

“Are you alright?” You asked, with the same amount of urgency. He nodded. “Just…” He panted. “Just help me get inside.” He mumbled.

You nodded and pulled his arm around your shoulders. Cas did his best to support most of his weight, not wishing to hurt you. The last thing he wanted was to ask for your help, but he had nowhere else to go. No one he could rely on at this point. You were the only one he had left.

With little trial and error, you managed to settle Cas on the sofa. He sunk down against the soft cushions and proceeded to lay his head back, his eyes closing.

“I’ll be right back.” You murmured, after having stared at him for longer than you should have.

Sure he was a mess, but he still managed to stir something inside of you with that vessel of his.

While he rested, you went back to your car and retrieved what you needed. You took time to yourself in the kitchen and prepared tea, as well as medical supplies to treat him. You chewed your lip, while letting the tea bag steep in the boiling liquid. None of it had made any sense, his disappearance anyway. Castiel had seemingly become weak, through some sort of conflict.

A timer buzzed on your phone, causing you to jump and return to reality from your thoughts. You pulled the bag from the mug and dropped it into the trash. Grabbing your kit and the tea, you headed back for the living room and found him the same as he’d been.

He heard movement and lifted his head, his eyes opening to land on your face as you sat yourself beside him.

“Let me look?” You asked, gently, as you persuaded with a kind smile. Cas nodded and shifted, a wince of pain flashing over his expression. He began to unbutton his shirt, what was left of it anyway, and revealed the gash at his abdomen. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before, but it needed to be treated and stitched.

“Oh, Cas…” You breathed with a disappointed tone. “What happened to you?” Your brows knitted together, as your gaze lifted with anticipation. Ready for answers.

You opened your supplies and dug around for a moment, until finding what you needed first.

“I suppose I’m being punished.” Castiel began, as you got to work on cleaning him up. You glanced up. “For what?” You quizzed, continuing to watch him as he looked shameful with his head turned that way.

“Well, with all things considered, I’m useless without my Grace.” He went on. “My mistake for trusting the wrong people.” He muttered, as if scolding himself. “All I wanted to do… Was to help you, and Sam… and Dean.” Finally, he looked at you.

Castiel looked as if he was to cry and you stalled in your movements, your eyes locked for what felt like eternity.

“Now… I can’t do anything. And Dean doesn’t care if I live or die.”

“Don’t say that. Of course he does.” You argued.

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me…” He defended his accusation.

You swallowed thickly.

“You know how he is.” You reminded. “Everything is… so strange right now. What happened, anyway?" You tried to get some sort of an explanation, again.

Your eyes were back on his stomach, tending to his wound.

“Why did you leave?” He suddenly asked then, shifting the subject to you. That made your posture change. Guilt seemed to chew it’s way through your stomach, as his blue eyes bore into you. As if he was searching for an answer he would like to hear.

“After what happened with Alistair…” You trailed off, unsure of how to explain yourself. To defend yourself? Not that you needed to, but it almost felt like you had abandoned Cas when he needed you most.

Despite his bond with Dean, you seemed to be the only one to understand him. You’d shared so many quiet moments and unspoken words, you now had a bond of your own.

“I needed some time.” You admitted. “It became too much and I needed some normalcy. I thought I was going to go crazy, especially with Sam and Dean fighting like they always do, but it started to feel different.” You explained further for him, but it felt nice to release it. To tell the truth and to someone who you knew was actually listening. Not to mention the way Cas looked at you. As if every word was like a precious gift to him.

“We needed you. I needed you.” Those three words were enough to make your heart sink.

You kept focus on the stitching and that familiar silence began to blanket the two of you. You were thankful for it, because you weren't exactly up for an intervention.

After dressing his wound, you handed over the steaming tea to him, which should have cooled to drinking temperature by now. He didn’t question, as he took what you gave him. Along with something for the pain.

“Now you know my pain.” You joked, with a little chuckle.

“I can assure you, my experience as a human has humbled me.” He acknowledged with a usual, Castiel-pondering-expression.

You smiled, as you began to wipe your hands.

“But I’ve also never felt more alone.” He added, before setting the mug back down. He looked so sad then. His puppy face returning and seizing your heart with despair.

“Castiel, you’re not alone.” You reminded him, as you reached out and touched his hand. Slowly, he lowered his gaze to your small hand in comparison to his own. He turned his over, allowing you to slip your palm against his rough one. His fingers closed around your hand and he squeezed gently.

He looked at you, with a fondness and a tender hesitation. “I feel like you’re the only one who knows me.”

Your lips parted, not sure what to say. Instead, you smiled and forced down the tears that pricked. He shifted then and you took some time to process that he was, in fact, moving closer. Inch by inch. Your heart began to pick up its pace. Your cheeks warm with expectation.

Without realizing, you had gripped his hand more tightly. Cas didn’t seem to mind, or perhaps he didn’t even notice. His breath fanned over your lips, waiting for some sign that you approved. That this was okay. It was innocent, but it made your heart melt nonetheless.

So naturally it unfolded. His lips practically molding to your own, your head slightly tilting to fit yours to his. A moment you dreamed of, coming to life and setting you alight from the inside out. His head tilted, refusing to break away as Cas discovered the softness of your lips, his first kiss, and the way you tasted. It was almost… heavenly. Yes, it was indeed divine in its own right. How could he believe you’d be anything less?

The slowness of his actions was agonizing, leaving you craving more and somehow, you needed it this way. For someone to love you with the utmost care and patience.

When Cas broke away, he was speechless. As were you. Never once had your hands released each other.

“Was… was that okay?” He stumbled, nervousness overtaking him.

All you could do was nod. You rose from your position, taking his hand with you and encouraging him to stand. Castiel did just that and followed you willingly. Something inside of you screamed to pull back while you had the chance. To save yourself from the possible heartbreak this would cause, but none of that mattered. Not now.

You guided him up the staircase and down the hall. Your bedroom door was open.

Turning back to face him, you dropped his hand and began to undress. You tossed your work scrubs aside, a pile beside your feet, and were left in a simple matching black set. They weren’t lacy, rather bland but Cas didn’t appear to care with the way his eyes grew a bit wider.

You stepped forward and pushed his torn dress shirt off his shoulders, as the fabric fell behind him. He kept his gaze on you, lips slightly agape. Your fingertips slowly traced over his collarbones and down his chest. Your hands sliding over his biceps. A shaky breath released from you, as you admired him. Human or Angel, Castiel would always make you feel this way.

“Do you want this?” You asked him, already sure of yourself, but knowing he might not wish to go this far. Not yet or maybe never.

“I do.” He answered, clearly and without any pause.

You were surprised, stilling your movements for just a second, but resumed undressing him. Your fingers worked open his belt and Cas seemed to grow impatient without your lips. His fingers lifted your chin, as he crashed his lips back over yours. This elicited a moan from you, your mouth opening and allowing his tongue to explore you. His fingers tangled into your hair.

Left in his underwear, you pulled him over to the bed, but he was quicker than you. Gently, with what strength he had left, he laid you back. The warmth of his chest pressed to yours. Effortlessly, your lips found his again. You hummed and tangled your fingers into his dark, tangled hair. Something that only he seemed to pull off.

His lips were as soft and supple as you imagined, maybe even more if that was possible.

“I’m not sure how to do this…” He mumbled, his head having fallen beside yours. His breath blew hot against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You held him close, as if he’d disappear.

His naivety made you chuckle. His purity was endearing, of course. You didn’t mind that he was clueless. The night was yours to waste.

“It’s okay. I’ll show you.” You whispered, lifting his face in your soft, lithe hands. He leaned into your touch. A gentle smile tugging the corners of his lips.

“Can I take these off?” He asked you. Such a gentleman. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last time a man had been so thoughtful to what you might want. You nodded and moved to help him, but he was insistent on doing so himself. He struggled for a moment, his fingers working their best to unhook your godforsaken garment.

This caused you to giggle softly. His mouth twitched in response. You lifted your hips eagerly when he reached your panties, as he slid them down your legs. He seemed to enjoy this the most, as he discarded your underwear and returned to feel up your lithe legs.

He gently guided them open and lowered his head between your thighs. You sat up, your hands pushing his shoulders. He looked confused now.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” You answered quickly, almost cutting him off.

“You just— You don’t have to.” You muttered, your nerves getting the best of you.

“But I want to.” Castiel responded. “If you’ll let me. I want all of you.” He nearly begged. You couldn’t argue with him now, not when he looked at you that way and spoke to you with such urgency to please. It made you tingle in all the right places.

“I thought you didn’t know what you were doing?” You asked, swallowing thickly when his lips pressed softly to your inner thighs.

“I don’t, but I won’t stop until I get it right.” He smirked.

This amazed you, as half the men you’d met couldn’t be bothered to get you off. Their needs mattered first. Castiel, an Angel and an A class virgin was determined to make you scream.

He promptly shut your brain off with a slow lick between your folds. Tasting you, more out of curiosity first. Cas never took his eyes off of you, licking certain ways to see how your face would change. Then he found your clit and that was enough to get him riled up. It was the most beautiful thing he’d seen, besides your natural face of course. And the way you sang his name like a prayer. Oh, he’d answer it every time just to hear you say it like that.

“Ohh, Castiel…” You were breathless, panting in new octaves he’d never heard. Your whines like sweet music as his tongue circled that perfect spot. He paid special attention to it, sucking your clit a little harder than before. Your back arched at that, your thighs closing around his head but he didn’t seem to mind. Your fingers found his raven hair again, pulling tightly and forcing him closer to your dripping sex.

His arm wrapped around your thigh, his thumb rubbing your clit and this time his tongue pushed inside of you.

“Fuck… fuck.. Just like that!” You yelled. “Oh, you’re doing so good.” You praised him and that bubbled something in him. He didn’t know how good it felt to be commended, especially from you. For too long he’d been the bad guy. Unable to do anything right. His chest swelled with pride, as he ate you with such desire and passion, it nearly brought tears to your eyes.

“I’m gonna… Oh, God Cas!” Was the only thing you managed, as a blinding orgasm crashed over you. Your legs shook, toes curling at his back, and hands pulling at the sheets.

“I’m not entirely sure what God has to do with this.”

You weren’t sure if he was mocking you or being entirely serious. And with him, either could be possible. The answer to your question didn’t matter. Gaining your composure, you pulled Castiel to you. Happy to taste what you left on his lips, the arousal he created and the climax he pulled from you.

“And where does an Angel of the Lord learn that?” You asked, brow raised and a laugh threatening. Your cheeks flushed.

“The pizza man, of course.” He said with a sheepish smile.

Your head tossed back with a laugh and Castiel took the opportunity to attack your throat. His lips desperate to cover every inch of you, latching onto anything he could easily access. You sighed with pleasure, your hands pushing down his briefs and he kicked them away. Never would he have thought to engage in such sinful acts, but being human had given him depth to a new sense of needs and desires. One of them being you.

He laid on top of you again, but you rolled and he did most of the work when he realized what you wanted. He sat up, chasing your lips as you came to sit in his lap. His velvety cock brushed your thigh and you gasped softly at his hardness. It didn’t prepare you for when you actually looked down to discover his length.

“Are you ready?” You asked him, holding the back of his head with steady hands.

You shared loving glances. Full of sincerity and a deep crave none of you could explain by words. Castiel kissed you for confirmation. Strong and unyielding. It was all you needed.

You lifted your hips, supporting yourself on his shoulders. Taking the base of his cock, larger than you anticipated, you slowly began to take him. Despite the slick of your first orgasm, his tip alone was stretching you. You moaned and Castiel was already making sweet noises to you. It made your cheeks burn, to know you were the reason. The one taking his innocence. That alone was incredibly hot to you.

“Please, more.” He begged, his hands laying flat to your back. Drawing you into him.

“I know, I know. Just give me a moment.” You sighed weakly and kissed him gently, slowly taking more of him.

“Am I hurting you?” He suddenly asked, worry all over his face.

“I’m okay. It’s okay. It will go away.” You assured him quickly.

Cas didn’t seem to believe you, but when you finally seated yourself, he was too lost to care. Your walls squeezed him and created a sensation he never knew existed.

Your fingers found home in his locks again, his face nestled between your breasts. For a moment you stayed like this, his cock filling you to the hilt. The pain was still present, but you couldn’t take staying like this any longer.

More. You needed more.

Slowly, your hips rocked forward and it almost felt out of your control.

“Ohh, I never knew…” Castiel whispered to you. His voice raspy and low. Just another reason to make you throb.

You smiled, as your hips lifted and lowered again. It was sedate but intimate. The way he held you was nothing short of romantic and the way his cock hit all the right places—you were in pure bliss.

You whined with each new roll of your hips and Cas did his best to help, being beneath you. His lips kissed over your chest and collar bone, as he worked back up your neck. He took special care to the sensitive areas he’d picked up on. You mewled, as he took the time to hold you. To become one with you.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He admitted, his voice weak and following a grunt.

“I know.” You whispered, a moan falling from your lips. “Me too.” Your eyes closed and he promised himself to remember you like this forever. Wrapped in his arms and enraptured by what he could give. Only him.

His emotions overtook him, compelled by his will to continuously please you. Once more, he turned and your eyes shot open as you found yourself underneath him. Briefly worried he’d hurt himself, it all washed away instantly. This new angle allowed him to control the pace and fill you in a completely new way. Your legs moved, instinctively, to wrap around him and draw him deeper into you.

He found your hands, tangling your fingers together, and pushing them down into the mattress above your head.

Your jaw fell slack as he began a steady pace of thrusting. So deliberate and calculated, claiming you entirely. Castiel was making love to you. Being thorough in the way his cock dragged against your walls. As if he was trying to touch every last inch. So you would remember what it felt like later.

“I’d give it all up.” He groaned. “To be with you.”

Between his fucking and those sweet words, it was enough to feel the sting of tears. Happy as you were, you felt so overwhelmed as your second orgasm began to blossom. His words could have been meaningless. Sex had a way of making people confess such beautiful lies, but you wanted to believe him. And you did.

“Cas… Cas! Please, don’t ever stop.” You cried.

“Never.” He growled.

He captured your lips and you cried with such joy, you didn’t even recognize yourself. How had an Angel turned you into such… mush?

You didn’t care, that’s not what mattered. Castiel had been the only thing to come into your life and make it something worth living. All the darkness that had once swallowed you, Cas was the guiding light. Even if it was doomed to fail, you helplessly held onto anything that was left.

Cas wanted this to last an eternity. He could spend forever wrapped up in these sheets. Buried in you so deliciously and making you come over and over again. A new addiction he was beginning to discover. Your fingers dug into his hand, and he ignored the sharp pang of your nails. He drove deeper and deeper, his tip hitting that perfect, spongy spot inside of you. As much as he wanted to last, Castiel felt that was impossible.

“Castiel, yes! Oh, please!” You cried out and he had no choice but to give you what you needed. Feeling it come on so strong, now that you’d come around him. Your walls fluttering and pulsing so perfectly. Roughly, he jerked his hips.

“I think I’m going—“ Cas stammered, a little unsure with this strange new feeling. “Yes, baby. Come for me.” You encouraged. How could he deny you when you said it like that? A moan was lost on your ears, as you kissed him hungrily, and he filled you. And it was then he felt he just might melt. You smiled against his lips, until he nearly collapsed on top of you.

Your eyes fell shut, listening to Castiel’s soft pants. Basking in the afterglow of your second orgasm, you smiled widely. He lifted his head just in time to catch you this way. Licking his lips briefly.

“So… beautiful…” He murmured, barely above a whisper.

More minutes had passed, which turned into an hour. Castiel now residing beside you, as you found yourself curled up at his side and your head on his chest. You listened to his slow and steady heartbeat. Such a simplicity and yet, you enjoyed the domesticity of it all. As if you could picture yourself living this life with him. Your white picket fence and no interference from any outside, or supernatural forces. Your past wouldn’t exist. Free to be yourself with him.

Something about your 'eternal damnation' made you want to fall in love with him more. To defy everything that it was, in your nature, not to be with him. Rather amusing, you thought to yourself... the demon-blood drinker and the Angel. Neither of you had forgotten the hell that was your life merely a few months ago. Nor how you had been the cause for most of the suffering. If it hadn't been for your shame of making poor choices, breaking promises, and ruining trust - you would've had the courage to pick up the phone and call Dean, or answer when he did for that matter.

“I hope I haven’t overstayed my welcome.” Cas spoke. His distinctive voice brought you from your trance of self loathing.

You shifted with a sigh and chuckled. “You can stay as long as you need to.” You responded honestly. “Besides, we wouldn’t have made it this far had you overstayed your welcome.” You teased him.

“And… I did okay?” He asked suddenly, his expression shifting to that of anxiety and uncertainty.

“Yes. It was perfect.” You put his worries to rest, before planting a soft kiss to his chest. Your lips traveled, trailing more traces of affection until you reached his lips.

“Good.” He sighed with relief, grinning wide.

“So… Now that you’re human. What are you going to do?” You asked. Wondering if he had some sort of plan to reverse his fate or if he intended to play out this ride.

“I’m not sure, but…” He reached for you and pulled you closer. “All I care about right now is you.” He confessed, rolling over. You moved with him, like pieces of a puzzle, and wrapped an arm around his neck. Your lips pressed firmly together.

Surely fate had other plans, but today was yours to have.

[thefanficmonster]

Hey can you make a moist cr1tikal x reader where they're sibling of a famous YouTuber and makes YouTube videos of their own and he's a big fan of

Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! I hope you don't mind the headcanons format, a full fic requires a long wait and I don't wanna put you through that so here it is! If you still want a full fic, don't be hesitant to ask! Enjoy 💕

Pairing: Moist Cr1tikal x Jacksepticeye's Sibling!Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

- As the younger sibling of none other than Jacksepticeye, you’ve had your fair share of second-hand fame over the years you’ve spent helping him grow his channel and attend conventions

- Over these years, you’ve garnered a certain love for content creating you never before thought you’d develop but you were more than happy to announce it to Jack who shared your enthusiasm and was your biggest supporter right from the get-go

- He still is the leader of your fan club much like you are of his

- Only difference is that now, that club actually has members other than him

- Albeit with his help, you managed to attract a decent amount of viewers to your streams every day until you hit a million subscribers within a time period of less than a year

- He was happier than you were, and that was not an easy task to achieve

- No, seriously, Evelien was worried you two would break the sound barrier with your shouting and cheering

- The way you officially celebrated that milestone, however, was not a classic party

- First of all, because of the raging Covid issue that was still at large play in the world at the time

- And second: Because you had made a promise to your brother

- Since you were dead-set on doing all you possibly could to get your own following and not piggyback off of his, you never collaborated on anything together

- There was not a single stream or video where you featured him and you had allowed only very few of his to feature you as a background lurker taking care of the technical stuff

- That being said, when Jack would complain on your avoidance of him like two siblings in high school (with a role reversal), you made him the promise

- “When, or if I reach 1 mil, we’ll collaborate, ok? Not only that, but we’ll play Among Us!”

- Ah, thinking back to that, do you feel the nostalgia?

- Time flies so quickly you’ve come to measure it in anniversaries rather than days and months

- Why anniversaries?

- Let’s get to that story, shall we?

- You were the last one to enter the lobby, having purposely been given a time later than intended so everyone could gather before your arrival

- You were nervous as all hell, palms sweaty, bouncing leg, restless fingers, the whole nine yards

- But the atmosphere that you were engulfed by, the warm wave of welcoming you felt wash over you when the people present greeted you, it was too overwhelmingly calming to no suppress that other dreadful feeling of anxiety within you

- Jack’s friends proved to be as nice as you had expected - even more so!

- Of course, you’d previously met Felix, Joel and Dave countless times you considered them your friends too at this point

- But there were also five people you adored there that you were yet to meet

- Rae, Corpse, Sykkuno, Toast and Charlie

- They were your idols from the very start of this career path of yours

- They were also the main reason behind your nervousness whereas, if it had only been the other three, Jack and you, you wouldn’t have bat an eye

- Each one of them congratulated you with so much genuineness, it made you feel like getting wrapped up in the most comforting, safe and warm hug in the world, further stifling your fears and worries

- It was impossible to stay nervous around people as wholesome, kind and sweet as them

- Truth is, you aren’t such an angel either, but you played the part nicely

- You couldn’t let your horns poke through during your first official time meeting some of these people, after all

- But, as any person with siblings can confirm, all it took was one snide remark from Jack to get you to roll your eyes and sass him right back

- Now that was the real you

- And, to your surprise, someone noticed the change right away

- “That’s why I find you so entertaining, that’s why I became a fan - you’ve got a quick wit and a knack for perfect timing whether that be a joke or sarcasm. I strongly respect people like that.”

- What surprised you even more was that this came from Charlie

- He was, at the time, the one you had the least amount of admiration for out of everyone in the group

- No specific reason, you had just never been too caught up with his content 

- But to hear that he was a fan of yours, it put your entire world out of balance

- And you being you, you had to even the field as to not feel like you had come off as rude later on

- “Oh, what a coincidence, I’m a fan of yours too!“

- Yeah, he still, till this day, pokes fun at you for that line and the high octave with which you said it

- It’s a golden moment, the perfect start to something even better

- At his offer/question, the two of you exchanged contact info and other social media after the stream ended and promised to talk about a collab soon

- Bad thing is, you couldn’t even focus on the excitement of the idea when you knew you were a con artist in the current scenario

- So, you did what any reasonable person would do: pulled an all-nighter watching his videos to get a clue as to what kind of content he put out and what his personality was like on camera

- Turns out, the camera probably makes no difference whatsoever, judging by his energy, he’s a crackhead 24/7

- And you were well aware you had enough of that energy for three lifetimes, but you were still willing to see it through and see where it would take you

- Well, since I’m from the future, I can tell you that it’s led you to an engagement

- Yup, almost two years following your meeting and a hundred collabs (the last of which was the proposal itself) later, you and Charlie live in a shared apartment, engaged to be married

- See what I meant when I said you count time in anniversaries now?

- There’s now two eras of your life you can clearly distinguish: medium chaos era and maximum chaos era

- The latter you’re still living out with your fiancée by your side

- If things go as planned, you’ll be living in this era till the obligatory ‘death do you part’

- Many things will change by then

- Hell, many things have already changed

- But one factor has remained a constant

- Charlie continues to watch each and every single one of your videos, giving Jack a run for his money for the position of leader of your fan club

- Speaking of Jack...

- He couldn’t be happier for the two of you, his body wouldn’t be able to contain a single ounce more of joy without combusting

- But he is quite salty about the idea of being taken down from his pedestal as your biggest fan

- Let’s be honest though, he stands no chance when compared to the man that’s head over heels in love with you and randomly tells you so in your stream chat just to make you giggle like a dummy mid-stream

- A love story of the times witnessed by thousands of people, what more can I say other than

- Beautiful

[specialagentsergio]

hands to myself

summary: You and Spencer have just confessed your feelings for each other. And now, he simply can’t keep his hands off of you.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: smut, 18+ (minors DNI)

content warnings: swearing, dirty talk, making out, heavy petting, fingering, hand job, lil bit of overstimulation, penetrative sex, protected sex (no glove no love y’all), lmk if i missed anything.

a/n: this is a companion to my fic side effects may vary, but can be read as a standalone. enjoy!

a/n 2: just a quick reminder, in case you missed it above—the original fic is gender neutral reader, but this is female reader.

word count: 2.3k

song: hands to myself by selena gomez

masterlist

You lift your head from his chest and look him in the eyes. “Kiss me again.”

Spencer does. He can hardly believe this is real. Yesterday he was waking up in his own bed, alone and grumpy about having to get up. Today he’s in your bed after spending the night with you. You confessed your feelings to him just moments ago, feelings that he was thrilled to inform you that he shared. And now, he’s kissing you.

You pull back eventually, and he’s about to complain, but then notices how loose the shirt you’ve slept in is. With the way you’re leaning over him, it gives him a great view right down it. He quickly looks away, but it’s already burned into his mind.

You adjust positions slightly, pulling your legs up under you to kneel at his side, then lean back down to resume kissing him. He keeps one hand on the back of your neck, but the other wanders; it eventually comes to a stop right under your breast.

You tilt your head, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You can touch, Spencer,” you murmur.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He immediately starts feeling you up through your shirt, then thinks better of it and moves his hand underneath the fabric. He’s so caught up in exploring what may possibly be the best pair of tits he’s ever had the privilege of touching that he doesn’t notice your hand descending his body until it’s at the waistband of his underwear.

Your eyes flick up to his, asking for permission; the way your pupils are dilated makes his heart skip a beat. There’s no denying he’d love your hand on his cock, but he still says, “Wait.”

You slide your hand away and to his waist. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” he says breathlessly. “I’m enjoying this. But I realize there’s a sort of… societal expectation for women to…”

“Put out?” you offer.

He wrinkles his nose. “I hate that phrase. But yes.” He pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “I just want to tell you that it’s okay if you don’t want to, you know… go all the way right now.”  

“Oh, I want to,” you answer right away. Your nails dig into his side a little. “You have no idea how much I’ve been fantasizing about you lately.”

Spencer inhales sharply. “Christ, (Y/N).”

“But likewise,” you continue, as if you didn’t just cause his brain to explode with one sentence. “If you don’t want to do this right now, we can wait.”

He doesn’t answer with words; instead, he pulls you back down into a passionate kiss.

“I’ll take that as a yes to me touching your cock,” you murmur against his lips.

“God, yes,” he corrects.

He had taken off his pants to sleep last night, so you have easy access to his dick. You push his briefs down his hips and take him in your hand. He can’t stop the groan that leaves his mouth. You take a moment to glance down and run your hand every which way across it, getting familiar with it.

“Your cock looks even better than I imagined,” you mutter as you begin to jerk him off.

Spencer throws his head back against the pillows. “Well, I definitely feel a lot less guilty for jacking off to thoughts of you now.”

You smile. “You got yourself off thinking of me?”

“More often than I’d like to say,” he admits. “But from the sound of it, I wasn’t the only one.”

“No, not at all. What would you think about?”

It’s then that he notices you grinding down on the heel of your foot. He’s had a hand on your ass, and slides it forward now, replacing your heel with his hand. “I thought about doing this,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down over your clothed pussy. “More than this, too.”

“Tell me. No, wait,” you correct. “Show me.”

He doesn’t oblige right away; instead he latches his lips to the skin right above your collarbone and sucks hard enough to leave a mark. The corners of his mouth turn up when he feels you squirm against his hand. “I’d love to,” he finally says.

Deftly, his hand moves past the waistband of your panties, past fabric, skin and hair. “Lovely,” he murmurs when he feels the wetness gathering at your entrance. The pace you’re rubbing his cock at falters a bit when he slides a finger inside. A second finger quickly follows, then he matches your movements, thrusting his fingers into you when your hand moves down his cock; pulling them out when you stroke up. He relishes in the moan you let out when he crooks his fingers to hit that spot.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so good,” you breathe out.

With his free hand, he pulls down your panties so he can watch his fingers glide in and out of you. “Contrary to what my coworkers think, I have done this before,” he murmurs.

“Doesn’t surprise me at all.” You pause in your strokes to play with the head of his cock, prompting a moan of his own. “You’re so pretty. I’m surprised more people don’t throw themselves at you.”

He shrugs. “It’s the social ineptitude, I believe.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re—oh shit,” you gasp. He’s just adjusted so the heel of his hand is grinding against your clit on each thrust of his fingers into you.

This goes on for a few more minutes, the room filled with the sound of heavy breathing, gasps, and moans. Suddenly, you stop stroking his cock. He pulls back from kissing you and looks at you questioningly.

“I want you,” you whisper.

Spencer frowns a little. “You have me? My fingers are literally inside of you.”

“I meant I want your cock,” you laugh. “I’d really like to fuck you.”

He didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, and yet…. “I’d really like that, too.”

He removes his fingers from you rather reluctantly. You cup his face in your hands, giving him a passionate kiss before moving away from him, and he wonders briefly what to do with himself as you root around in the bedside table, but the answer quickly occurs to him. When you turn back to him with a condom in hand, he’s popped his fingers into his mouth and is sucking on them.

“Oh, Jesus,” you murmur. He just smiles around his fingers, holding out his other hand for the condom. But he does, unfortunately, need two hands to open it. After taking his underwear off all the way, he uses his wet fingers to stroke his cock a few times, then rolls the condom on.

He’s about to ask what position you’d prefer, but you answer it for him, moving to straddle his hips after tossing your panties aside. You pull his shirt off of him, then take off your own. He immediately fixates on your breasts again, placing his hands on your waist and tugging your closer so he can take one into his mouth.

“You really like my boobs, huh?” you ask.

He hums an agreement against your skin. “I mean, I really like all of you. But I’m particularly fond of these.”

He keeps at it until you let out a little whine, rolling your hips against his erection. “Spencer, please.”

“Alright, alright,” he relents. He places one kiss on each breast, then leans back.

You smile in excitement, wiggling your hips a little. You take his cock in your hand and run the tip through your folds. “You ready?”

He nods. “I’m ready.”

You line him up, then sink down onto him. He’s done a good job getting you ready; his cock slides in easily. You both let out sighs of relief and pleasure when he’s fully inside you. You lean forward slightly, gripping the headboard. “God, you feel so good,” you say breathlessly.

All he can do is make an affirmative noise, overcome with the pleasure of being inside of you. You feel perfect. “Y—yeah, you… you too,” he manages to get out.

It makes you laugh. “And they say romance is dead.”

After some deliberation, he settles on putting his hands on your hips. “Who says that?”

“It’s just a figure of speech.” You press a few soft kisses on his lips, then begin to move. You take it slow at first, lifting yourself up, then dropping back down. It takes him a moment to get accustomed to it, but when he does, he adjusts his legs so he can lift his hips up to meet yours on each stroke.

“I realize I didn’t express my thoughts very well,” he says, pulling your chest down against his so he can whisper into your ear. “So just to be clear, your pussy feels fucking amazing.”

“Fuck,” you gasp. You press your forehead against his and he follows your gaze to between your legs. The sight of his cock sliding in and out of you makes him groan.

“Yeah,” you agree. “It’s a good view.”

Some of your hair has fallen into his face; his pushes it to the side so he can see better. It’s an intoxicating sight, even more so when he starts fucking up into you faster.

You brace yourself with a hand on his chest. “Your cock… it feels like it was made just for me,” you pant.

“Mmhmm,” he agrees. “It’s… oh, I’m close.”

The side of your mouth turns up. “Already?” you tease.

“It’s the first time I’ve fucked you,” he protests. “I’ve been thinking about this for months. Of course I’m not going to last as long as usual.”

He may be feeling his orgasm approach, but Spencer hasn’t forgotten about you. He slides a hand down to where your bodies are joined, gathers some of the wetness there, and uses it to rub your clit.

“Oh, Spencer, yes,” you praise, and start bouncing on his dick faster.

In general, Spencer prefers for his partner to come before he does, but he doesn’t think he’s going to make it this time. Your skin is covered in a light sweat and your hair is messy, and it’s so… charming. Naked on top of him, he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” The pet name slips out of his mouth on its own.

Your hand finds its way to his hair—you tug—and he’s gone. He thrusts up into you sloppily as he cums, moaning your name loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

“Your ‘o’ face is so hot,” you say when he’s come down and is able to look into your eyes again.

“My what?”

“The ‘o face’ refers to the expression someone has when they orgasm,” you explain. “Yours is really hot.” Then your bottom lip drops out in a little pout, a clear contrast to your words. You grind down on him just a little and it clicks into place. His thumb had stopped moving on your clit when he came, and now you’re left without release.

He goes back to it rubbing your clit immediately, so suddenly that it startles you. “Spencer!” you yelp.

His free hand slides up the expanse of your back. “I’ve got you. Gonna make sure you cum, too.”

“Please,” you whimper. His dick is still inside you, and the little rocking movements you’re making cause a little overstimulation, but the condom helps and the way you clench around him every few seconds… he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to.

Your hand grasps his; you move his fingers around a little, showing him exactly how you like it. And when he gets it right--

“Oh, shit. That’s it, Spence. That’s it. Don’t stop.”

He kisses your neck as he does just what you say—he doesn’t stop.

Shortly you’re gasping out against the skin of his shoulder. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna--”

You throw your head back as you cum. The rhythmic contractions of your pussy around his cock makes it twitch inside of you. If he wasn’t still in his refractory period, that alone could make him hard.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

You settle down completely against him, chest to chest, and he listens as you catch your breath. “Thank you. Not everyone… well, every man, will do that.”

“I’ll always finish you off,” he promises, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

You lay there together for five blissful minutes, running fingers across each other’s bodies and whispering sweet nothings. But then you push yourself up with a huff. Naturally, Spencer immediately protests. “Where are you going?”

“Gotta go pee,” you say with a shrug. “The chance of a UTI trumps cuddling with you right now. Sorry.”

“Well. Understandable,” he concedes. He watches his now-soft dick slide out of you as you get up; it’s rather captivating. He starts cleaning himself up as you walk off towards the bathroom, carefully rolling the condom off and tying it off.

“Spencer.”

He looks up. You’re standing in the bathroom doorway. “Yes?”

“You know how earlier I said I had been trying to get you into my bed for weeks?” you ask. “And I said that I didn’t mean it that way?”  

“I do.”

“Well, that was only half true.”

The side of his mouth turns up. “Clearly.”

Your little bashful smile makes his heart flutter. But then you say, “You should thank your psychiatrist the next time you see her. You know, for prescribing you a medication that made you fall asleep, and subsequently led to you getting laid.”

Heat rises to his cheeks. He clears his throat before speaking. “You know, I think I’ll keep that to myself.”

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

tell me what you thought here!

[yanderememes]

Solitary Love Chapter 6 (Yandere Giorno x female reader)

Here's the next chapter! I ran into a little writer's block again but I finally came up with something 😀

In this chapter, we're introducing Mista, Fugo, and Trish as they discuss what's been going on with Giorno. It's actually so hard to write dialogue for a trio cuz you gotta specify who's talking lol. Thankfully, Tumblr is here to save the day with their color fonts 😂

Pink - Trish

Blue - Mista

Green - Fugo

See you in the next chapter! As always, I appreciate all of your support ❤️

“Cancel all my appointments tomorrow and clear my schedule,” Trish ordered her manager as she tossed her Louis Vuitton bag behind her for him to catch.

Frazzled and flustered, Giacomo couldn’t believe his ears. “But Signora Una! You have a photoshoot with Vogue and-”

“I said to clear my schedule, Giacomo,” Trish spoke with a stern tone. “I rarely get any days off now and I already made plans with my friends”.

Giacomo sighed. He’s been her manager since she signed with her current record label several years ago. Giacomo loved Trish as he would love a daughter and would do anything for her. But her diva personality and lavish lifestyle were enough to give him heart attacks with her demands.

After her father’s death in 2001, Trish became the most famous pop star in all of Italy. The country loves her and is known to be a national treasure. Every song she put out would sell millions and be the #1 hit on the radio.

She surely doesn’t miss the life she lived before this. Well, maybe except the days when her mother was alive. Those memories are kept near her heart. But from the time of her mother’s death and before she became a pop star, were memories she wanted to forget. All except for the people who built her into who she is today.

Bucciarati, Abbacchio, and Narancia are all gone. But she kept in touch with the few remaining. Trish was always so busy with concerts, interviews, photoshoots, and fan meetings that she rarely got the chance to see them. Tomorrow would be the first time she’s seeing them again after 3 months. She wasn’t going to pass this chance considering the gang was busy too.

“Capito (understood), signora. I hope you enjoy your day off tomorrow.”

Upon hearing his words, Trish stopped in her tracks and turned her head towards her manager. Content with Giacomo’s submission, Trish gave him a nod to signal her gratitude and continued to walk away.

***

“Trish! Over here!” Mista waved, trying to catch her attention.

Trish locked eyes with Mista and walked up to the table he was seated. There, she saw two familiar faces, Mista and Fugo.

For today’s plan, they decided to just keep it simple since all of them have enough action in their lives to last a lifetime. With Trish being the biggest pop star and the boys being high-ranking officials in the Mafia, having a simple lunch outside at the patio together was sufficient for them.

“Where’s Giorno?” Trish asked while taking her seat.

“Busy with Don stuff, you know, the usual” Mista replied, leaning back in his chair.

Unfortunately, this was a common occurrence whenever the old gang would make plans to hang out. Giorno never attended their gatherings anymore, leaving it a trio with Trish, Mista, and Fugo.

“Buon pomeriggio! Cosa le piacerebbe ordinare? (Good afternoon! What would you like to order?)” The waitress approached their table with a pen and paper ready in her hand.

***

After receiving their orders, the trio began conversing, trying to make up for lost time and catching up with each other. Fugo had already finished his order of spaghetti while Mista was still working on his burrito. Trish was the first to finish her dish (if you even call it one since she ordered a salad).

“How’s Giorno been doing?” Trish inquired, stirring her glass cup of sparkling water with a straw.

“Alright, I guess,” Fugo responded, not giving much thought to his answer. He didn’t seem to care all too much about the conversation as he rested his chin under his palm.

“But I’m worried about him, y’know? He hasn’t been looking great lately” Mista said while laying back on his chair and munching on his burrito.

That wasn’t a response she was expecting. It was enough for her to stop stirring her water and ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Well, he might be coming down with something but we’re not too sure. It’s a weird thing going on with him”.

“Which is…?”

Mista continued to chew on his burrito while avoiding eye contact with Trish. He seemed quite nonchalant about this for some reason. “For the most part, he’s normal when around us and Mr. Polnareff. But sometimes when he’s out, he’ll act strange. Like he’s possessed.”

During her time with the gang, there could only be one possible explanation for Giorno’s strange behavior, “Could it be a stand user?”

Finally setting his burrito down and returning Trish’s gaze, Mista spoke and shrugged his shoulders, “Possibly. But I find it hard to imagine anyone getting the jump on Giorno”.

“We do suspect it’s the doing of an enemy stand user. Most likely from a rival gang trying to topple us.” Fugo spoke up.

The fall of the previous boss, Diavolo, brought about many significant changes in Italy and how Passione was run. All drug trafficking was put to an end, any traitors or loyal followers of Diavolo were purged, and victims of Diavolo’s carnage were set free and given new opportunities in life. But with the rise of a new leader did not come without its challenges. Rival gangs refused to submit to Giorno and his ‘no drug’ policy, believing it to be a foolish idea when the drug business came with the most monetary gain.

Despite conquering almost all of Italy, there will always remain a few rats in the sewers waiting for their chance to topple Passione.

“But it’s so weird, Trish! Even Giorno doesn’t know what’s happening to him,” Mista continued.

“Well, what did he say?”

“Increased heart rate, dilated pupils, sweaty palms, butterflies in his stomach, higher voice”

“Can’t sleep at night, always thinking about this person, loss of appetite, nausea” Fugo added in. “This person might be a stand user”.

“Agreed. We gotta eliminate them as soon as possible”

Trish remained silent and began to piece together everything the boys said. “Wait, have you seen this happen to him?”

“Ya, I saw him just the other day while I was walking home from the library. He was out with a woman at a restaurant,” Fugo replied.

“A woman?” Trish cocked an eyebrow.

Bingo. Trish was certain what Giorno’s “odd” behavior is about.

She scoffed. She couldn’t believe her ears, how can these boys not see it?!

Mista, she could understand. He is a bit of a dumbass. And as for Fugo, well… he’s more book smart than street smart if anything.

“Are you so blinded by your work that you can’t see it?”

“See what?” Mista took another bite of his burrito.

Trish paused before speaking, her lips forming into a smile, “Giorno is in love.”

Both men stayed silent with wide eyes as they stared at Trish. Then proceeded to stare at each other.

“LOVE?!” Fugo and Mista screamed simultaneously with Mista nearly spitting out his burrito.

Trish facepalmed and shook her head. No wonder these two don’t have girlfriends.

“No way, Trish! Giorno isn’t that kind of guy! He cares way too much about bettering Italy with the famiglia!” Mista refuted, too absorbed in the conversation to notice his burrito fell to the ground.

“But I’m sure even he thinks about finding a partner one day”

“Thinking about it? Sure. Acting on it? Pft!” he exclaimed in disbelief, waving his hand in dismissal.

“Wait, Mista. Trish has a point. All of Giorno’s symptoms are physical signs of a man in love”

At least Fugo caught on. Trish proceeded to roll her eyes at their stupidity, “How have you guys not noticed this?”

“Romance isn’t exactly the first thing you associate Giorno with,” Mista retorted.

Trish paused for a second and nodded in agreement. ‘Okay, he makes a fair point,’ she thought to herself.

In all honesty, Trish isn’t close with Giorno. She even made better progress with Fugo since he came back than she did with Giorno. Giorno always talked about his dream and was so ambitious when they first met. He still is, but it is kinda hard to think that he’s in love now.

“I guess that would explain why he’s been going out more frequently on his time off. Probably to go see her,” Fugo was starting to put the puzzle pieces together and understand Trish’s argument.

“What does she look like?” Trish asked.

Trish’s question sparked Mista’s attention and put a coy smile on his face, “Ya, Fugo! Was she hot?” Clearly, someone is excited.

“I don’t know. Her back was facing me when I passed by them”

Fugo’s answer wasn’t received too well by his two friends. Both looked disappointed and bummed out like he just told a kid “no” when asked to buy them candy.

Fugo paused, “Why are you so invested in this?” He was genuinely curious but also couldn’t understand why this was interesting to them.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Mista spoke, “Cuz it’s fun”.

“I think it’s sweet that he got himself a little crush,” Trish added.

Trish and Mista really shared a single brain cell at certain times and this was one of them. It was something that Fugo had a hard time relating to if he’s being completely honest. “It’s none of our business. He’s Don now, so he has little time for that”.

“We should help him! We can help set them up!” completely ignoring Fugo’s comment, Trish chirped at the idea.

“Great idea, Trish! Giorno’s gonna thank us later! He’s gonna be so happy~” Mista joined in.

“Wait, I don-”

“Let’s go tell him!” Trish excitedly yelled, eyes beaming with glee and a smile plastered on her face.

Before Fugo could interject, Trish and Mista got up from their seats and dashed to Fugo’s car, laughing and brainstorming ideas on how they would be Giorno’s wingman/wingwoman.

“Fugo, hurry up!” Mista shouted from the passenger’s seat.

Fugo could only sigh. He knew this wasn’t going to end well.

[sage-writing]

Desire // Andy Barber

Dark!Andy Barber x female reader; (Frank Adler x female reader)

Summary: You're trying to move on after your breakup with Andy. But he has other plans.

Word count: ~5k

Warnings: +18 ONLY, dark story, mention of break-up, non-con, explicit language, stalking/obsession, coercion, angst, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), vaginal sex, non con drugging [Read at your own risk. DO NOT read if you don’t feel comfortable with these topics]

A/N: I FINALLY managed to finish my contribution for the 2021 Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge proudly presented by the amazing @stargazingfangirl18​ and @navybrat817​ ❤️ Thank you so much for hosting this challenge. I hope you both had a wonderful birthday month and were spoiled with lots of hoe-tastic stories.

Prompts used: Andy Barber (+ Frank Adler); “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you”; “You’ll be lucky if you can sit for a week by the time I’m done with you”; Obsession/ Stalker.

Dividers are mine, you can use them but please tag me if you do.

as always I am not an English native speaker so there will be probably some errors. Feedback is always appreciated ❤ Now enjoy!

Your friend Beth turned away from the bar, thrust a freshly tapped beer into your hand, and led you to a free bar table at the corner of the room. It was the first time you'd been out among people in months.

In your last relationship, there hadn't been much time for friends or other activities. Your boyfriend had preferred to have you to himself. He had made sure of that in a manipulative way. For that, you were all the more grateful that Beth had been by your side when you'd had enough strength to cut ties with him.

"Cheers! Here's to our girls' night out." Beth toasted your beer glasses with exaggerated vigor, and you struggled to balance the glass again so as not to spill. "Relax, we've got all evening to down this drink and many more to come," you joked with a laugh.

"Absolutely, you still owe me a lot of tequila, you and I haven't been out in ages," Beth replied. Even though you knew she meant no harm, her true words hit you. You had really neglected your friends and for a man who wasn't willing to put you above his work.

Beth purposefully changed the subject and showed you photos of the new interior on a boat she had designed for a client. The evening passed and together you emptied many more beers and shots.

After you returned from a quick trip to the restroom, a man stood next to Beth and seemed to be talking animatedly with her. Tentatively you approached the two, trying not to disturb their conversation. Beth didn't hesitate for a second, however, and introduced him to you.

"Oh, this is Frank. Frank Adler. We've met a few times at work. He fixed one of the boats I was supposed to redecorate for a client."

You introduced yourself to him as well and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you," you said as you eyed him intently. He looked really handsome. "The pleasure is all mine," he replied, holding your hand a little too long.

You must have had a confused look on your face, which Frank noticed and then laughed sheepishly, letting go of your hand. "Do you want to join us, maybe?" Beth nudged you with her elbow to elicit your consent and you nodded in response. It was obvious Beth was planning to set you two up, her expression said it all.

"I would love to," Frank replied, settling into a vacant chair. "Something to celebrate?" he asked, looking at the empty glasses that had gathered in front of you.

"I start a new job on Monday. Same company, but a new position with more responsibility. That also means I'm moving from part-time back to full-time." Frank raised his glass and waited for you to follow suit. "Well, to your new job then! Cheers!"

Beth inquired about Mary, Frank's niece, whose legal guardian he had become after her mother, his sister, died, as Frank explained for you. His smile was wide as he spoke about her, and though you barely knew him, you knew immediately that he loved her dearly.

Your eyes abruptly focused on something, no someone, who seemed to be walking through the pub in the background. Before you could confirm your suspicions, the person had already disappeared.

Was that him?! If so, it would hardly be a coincidence. He wasn't the type to spend a Friday night in a pub. But probably your brain was just trying to play a nasty trick on you and you had mistaken someone else for him.

Pushing your negative thoughts aside, you turned back to Frank and Beth and tried to follow the conversation again. However, although you did your best, your thoughts were restless and you felt increasingly watched.

Beth's brow furrowed. "Are you okay?" she murmured to you.

"Um, yeah. I've had a long week and I think I'd rather go home." She nodded and asked if she should accompany you, but you declined gratefully and called an Uber on your phone.

As you said goodbye to her and Frank, you almost missed the slightly disappointed look in his eyes. You couldn't dwell on that now.

Waiting outside by the street, you shuffled from one foot to the other. Partly to keep your body warm, but also because you still felt unsafe. Fortunately, the Uber driver arrived quickly, a young man who greeted you in a friendly manner and made an overall harmless impression. Before you sat down in the back seat, you looked around. The street was completely empty. There was no one to be seen. The only sounds that reached your ears were those of the guests in the pub. The car drove off and disappeared into the night.

After about half an hour, the driver stopped in front of your house. You thanked him and walked briskly towards your front door. In the sparse light you had to fumble for a while until the key slipped into the lock.

The door popped open after less than a turn. You had locked the door, hadn't you?! Maybe you had just forgotten. You walked down the hall towards the stairs but stopped when you realized that someone was sitting on the sofa in the living room. You knew this person. Exhaling in annoyance, you almost hit the light switch and the room abruptly brightened.

"Andy. What the hell are you doing here!" He sat there motionless. His dark suit was a bit rumpled, even his tie hung loose and untidy around his neck. In his hand he held a glass of whiskey. He looked tired and worn out.

Slowly, you walked closer to him. "Andy? Are you listening to me?" Sipping his drink, he looked around the room.

"After all, it didn't take you long to remove all traces of our love from our home."

A sarcastic laugh came from you in response. "We've been separated for months. Why should I still keep anything here that reminds me of you."

As you spoke, you could see Andy clutching the glass tighter and his knuckles standing out white.

"Besides, this isn't our house. It's mine. You don't live here anymore."

Andy jumped up from the couch and slammed the glass against the wall to your left, where it shattered with a loud crash. The shards scattered on the floor and the alcohol left a damp stain on the wallpaper.

Startled, you jerked back a step, though you didn't want to show Andy your fear. This wasn't the first time he'd raged like this. During your relationship, he had rarely controlled his anger. He had never been violent toward you. His way of maintaining control was different.

"We didn't break up. You. You broke up with me. Just threw our future in the trash like it was nothing." He spat the words out like they were poison, braced his hands on his hips, and glared at you piercingly.

"Do you really think I would just give up on you? Just let you make the biggest mistake of your life?"

You took another step toward him, ready for a confrontation. "Fine, I just broke up with you. But you know exactly why I did that. And if I'm right, you still haven't changed your behavior. Tell me the truth. Are you stalking me? Did you follow me tonight?"

Andy's silence was answer enough. You had been right after all.

Anger boiled up inside you and your voice almost began to roll over. "I can't believe this. Get out of my house. I fucking mean it. If you don't get out of here right now, I'm calling the police."

"Oh sweetheart, do that if you want." Slowly, but purposefully, he circled the table and walked toward you.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest. You knew you'd better keep your mouth shut now. Provoking Andy would only make him angrier.

As he stood in front of you, he gently put his hands on your shoulders. "But you know very well that I have friends in the police. Your charges against me would come to nothing."

His massive hands kneaded your shoulder muscles and inevitably your body relaxed, as if it were trained to respond that way to touch.

"I know I've made mistakes in the past. My work at the DA's office took up too much of my time, and because of that, I had too little for you. For us. That will change from now on." Tenderly, he cupped your face as you tried to understand what he was trying to tell you. "I want us to get back together."

Your jaw almost dropped in speechlessness. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I want us to be a couple again. I know that scares you, but I'm going to show you how good I can make you feel."

You hated the way he talked to you like you were a petulant little child.

"No. I guarantee that won't happen." With a firm shake of your head, you tried to back up your statement.

"Yes it will, darling. I promise you that." Andy leaned down to you and kissed your cheek. His beard lightly scratched your skin.

A feeling you had once liked. After his sign of affection, Andy disappeared without another word, leaving you confused and shocked.

Your vibrating cell phone in your pocket brought you out of your thoughts. It was a message from Beth.

Hey, did you get home okay?

Yeah, I'm home. Need to talk to you. Emergency meeting tomorrow morning at 9:00? My place? Breakfast?

OK. See you then.

Carefully, you picked up the shards from the shattered glass. As you went into the kitchen to throw them away, you noticed that there was an oversized bouquet of flowers on the counter. They were your favorite flowers. And only one person could have left them here today.

Andy Barber.

Your body was weak and already crying out for sleep. You changed your clothes and hid under the covers.

Your thoughts kept wandering to Andy's words.

"After all, it didn't take you long to remove all traces of our love from our home."

He was right. No sooner had you uttered the word "breakup" than you had insisted that Andy move out and take all his things with him.

Now half the closet was empty. Books on the shelf were missing. In some picture frames, only the white cardboard of the back wall was visible.

The other side of the bed remained cold. That's the way you wanted it. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. A feeling stuck inside you and bored into your heart. Andy wouldn't let you go. Not so easily.

The night had been restless. Again and again you had woken up and had switched on the light, for fear a particular someone would have penetrated again into your house.

After much tossing and turning in bed, you decided to get up and prepare breakfast. The table on the veranda facing the garden was the perfect place.

The sun was just coming over the crown of the trees, so the garden was covered in a pattern of shadows.

Promptly at 9, Beth was at your door. Concern was in her eyes, you could tell. Together you went out to the patio and you poured both of you a big cup of coffee first.

"So spit it out. What happened? You left pretty abruptly last night, and then this meeting."

Numbly, you took a sip of your coffee and sorted out your thoughts. "Andy came to see me last night. Well actually, he was already in the bar too and probably watching us, but that was just a guess at first. Anyway, he was already here when I got home."

With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you thought again about his promise. "He's decided we're going to be a couple again."

"He's not serious, is he? How did he even get in here, I thought he turned in his keys when he moved out?"

"I hadn't even thought of that. The bastard must have duplicated a key in the before. I guess it looks like I'll have to change the lock."

Beth popped a grape into her mouth and chewed on it lost in thought. "Now I understand why you wanted to talk so badly. But you're not planning on giving Andy a second chance, are you? The relationship with him just didn't do you any good."

"I know ... it's weird. Even though I don't miss the relationship itself, I do miss him. I know he loved me ... maybe loves me, in his own twisted way and-"

"Nothing and," Beth energetically set her cup on the table, "he's in the past and he should stay that way."

Your eyes started to get moist and before you could realize it, Beth had pulled you into her arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I'm just worried about you. You deserve someone better than him."

"I know, it's okay." You wiped the tears from your cheek, took a deep breath, and calmed down again. "I could use pancakes and a milkshake right now." You could only agree with her and grin.

At noon, you lay in the sun with Beth on a blanket and pillows on the lawn in the backyard. You watched the little clouds slowly move across the sky.

"Peaceful, isn't it?" your friend remarked. You just nodded silently.

"I have something to tell you too, by the way. After you left yesterday, Frank asked me quite a bit about you. I think you made a lasting impression."

You gave the grinning Beth a fun punch with a pillow. "No shit, I think he likes you. I know it's a little early, but maybe a distraction would do you some good." "Yeah, maybe you're right."

Andy sat in his car, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel, watching you say goodbye to Beth.

Of course, he didn't use his Audi for that. He knew you were looking for that car. Perhaps it had been foolish to seek you out the previous evening, but every day apart from you hurt, and he simply had to see you again.

Unobtrusively, he slid deeper into his seat as Beth drove by. Andy hated her. She was the one who had put nonsense in your head. Said he wasn't good enough for you, would only hurt you.

Bullshit. You were perfect for each other and soon he would prove it again. Caution and gentleness were called for. It was essential to slowly get you used to the idea of being his wife again, and you didn't even know the deepest recesses of his soul.

You were his perfect little angel. Innocent and pure. You never noticed how he slowly and carefully integrated himself into your life. From your first meeting to the accidental fire damage in his house, after which you yourself had offered to just move in together after all.

Anger gathered in his chest as he watched you come out of the house with the bouquet of flowers he had left you and dump it in the trash. He had to restrain himself and be patient with you. Soon you would be ready. And he would be there.

The next few days did not go well. Every damn morning, a bouquet of flowers showed up at your door. At least it indicated that Andy had really just put the flowers down and hadn't invaded the house again.

After the fourth time, you gave up on throwing the bouquet away.

You had texted him and asked him to return his obviously copied key, but had received no reply.

After that you had called the locksmiths in town and, strangely enough, they all told you they didn't have an available appointment for another two months.

Andy had his hands in it. It was more than obvious.

Work had taken up a lot of your time and at least there you were able to focus on something positive. Many meetings and team discussions had been scheduled and you already had the feeling to have your new job under control.

Nevertheless, Andy was always in your head and besieged your thoughts. After a week of not being able to sleep through the night, you decided to go for a walk early on Sunday to somehow clear your head.

You needed a way to put an end to this spook. Preferably as soon as possible. Equipped with boots, raincoat and a warm scarf, you set off in the direction of the small forest that was near your house. Due to the rain of the last few days, there was still a lot of moisture hanging around, so the air was full of the smell of damp earth and plants.

The birds were happily singing their morning song. Carelessly you stepped straight through the puddles as if you were focused only on one goal. But you weren't. Your goal was to be free of Andy, but you knew it wouldn't be easy. As he had already made it unmistakably clear to you, contacting the police was futile. Neither fleeing to another city nor giving up was an option. Frustrated, you kicked a small stone and watched it roll along the path.

"Didn't I realize correctly that you roam the woods here, too?" Turning your head to the side, you realized Frank was coming at you from a side path. Judging by his mud-encrusted boots and wet jacket, he had been out for some time.

"And I thought I was the only crazy one tromping through nowhere at this hour," you reply with a grin. In the middle of the forest crossroads, you both stopped.

"Well that's also because I came from an impromptu night shift. Work at the harbor took longer than I thought and since my neighbor is watching my niece anyway, I thought I'd take another spin to get down," he explained.

"That makes two of us," you replied with a tired smile. "I'd have to go on as well," you pointed to the forest path that ran back towards the settlement, "it looks like rain and I'm not too keen on getting caught in a shower."

Frank looked up at the sky and nodded in agreement. Indeed, dark clouds had rolled in again.

"I need to head that way, too. Would you mind if I accompanied you?" Actually, you had come to the forest to be by yourself, but Frank radiated such a calm positive energy that you decided it would do you good not to be alone. You accepted his suggestion and the two of you set off as well.

 There was an uncomfortable silence for the first few meters until Frank started up a conversation of his own.

"How did it go at work? You told me about your new job last weekend." Questioningly, he tilted his head to one side.

"Busy. A little tiring, but it's going well. I didn't think I'd be excited about working more, but it's fulfilling in kind of a way. In hindsight, it had been a bad decision to step down from my old full-time position. At the time, I thought it was the better decision...for my previous relationship."

Frank gave you a slightly pitying look, and you could tell he didn't quite know how to respond. "I can understand how you feel, maybe better than you think. The important thing is that you are happier now."

Suddenly a loud rumbling sounded over the forest and just a few seconds later the raindrops began to fall from the sky. Briskly you tried to put on your hood, but it didn't quite work because your scarf got caught.

Then you felt Frank's hands on yours, gently taking them aside, straightening your scarf and gently pulling the hood over your head to protect it from the rain. Only then did you realize how close he was standing in front of you and you could even make out the detailed color patterns in his irises.

A quiet thank you was all you got out. "Come on, we should get you out of the rain and into the dry."

You continued on your way and only a few minutes later you had reached the edge of the forest and it was time for you to part ways. You bid him a friendly goodbye, but he interrupted you before you could turn away.

"Hey, I don't mean to be indiscreet. Beth had only hinted to me that your last relationship wasn't exactly good for you. I respect it if you don't want to or need more time, but I'd really like to get to know you."

You felt flattered and a warm pleasant feeling gathered in your chest. Something you hadn't felt in a very long time.

"Yes, I would be happy to see you again. What do you think about a second walk, hopefully in better weather, and then dinner at my place? Next Saturday?" You were surprised at your courage yourself, but all the happier when Frank agreed.

Andy's fists clenched as he watched this strange man hug you before you headed toward home. This was not how it was supposed to go. He had planned it differently. Even after your first meeting in the pub, he had taken the precaution of investigating. He didn't like what he saw in the forest. It disgusted him, how he had touched you. He was the only one who was allowed to touch your pure form. He had planned to be patient, but that was no longer possible. In his opinion, there was an urgent need for action. But first he would have to deal with the person who created this whole problem in the first place.

Late in the afternoon, you were making yourself some tea when there was a knock at the door. You weren't too pleased to see Andy after opening the door.

Because of the weekend, he was dressed more casually than usual. He was wearing a dark sweater but his classic gray coat.

"What, you don't bring me new flowers?" you asked sarcastically, not hiding your anger at his actions. His expression remained motionless and you had a hard time guessing what he was thinking.

"Take it easy. I just want to talk and bring you the key. That's what you asked for. May I come in?"

Actually you didn't want to let him in, however his supposed peace offering surprised you and you wanted to give him a chance. Maybe this was the opportunity for the two of you to finally get some clear closure.

You took a step away from the door, clearing the passage for Andy. Once in the kitchen, you poured you both a cup of tea. Behind you, you heard a clacking sound, turned around, and saw that Andy had placed the key on the counter. "Thanks." Before you'd even finished saying it, you regretted it. Why should you be grateful when he was the one who had gained entry to your house?

"Shall we sit in the living room?" He just nodded in response, but before you could reach for your cup, Andy took them both. "I'll do it."

You let him go ahead, took the key, stowed it in a drawer, and then followed him into the living room. There he had already settled down on the sofa. You preferred the armchair to keep some distance.

Slightly nervous, you sipped your tea. It tasted bitter, you had probably let it steep too long. "So, what do you want to talk about?" Andy eyed you slowly, as if expecting something. "Have you thought about my decision?"

Trying to calm your boiling anger, you took another sip. "Is this starting again? Andy, I don't know what you want me to say. It's over and it's going to stay that way."

His look turned sad and dark. "Honey, I was hoping you would have realized it yourself by now. Just a few months ago we were on such good terms. You were slowly stepping back from work, ready to become a housewife and make a home for our children. And I wanted us to get back to that point. And now? You throw yourself back into work and at some strange man's neck. I didn’t like the way he was looking at you."

"What? How? This thing with Frank is nothing, and even if it were, it's something you don't get to decide." You tried to make your voice sound clear and determined, but you didn't feel as strong as you did a short time ago.

"You can't control everything. You can't control me."

"Then maybe it's time I started doing that again."

The room began to spin slowly, as if you were standing on a turntable. Finally, the penny dropped.

Andy had never intended to make peace with you. Not his way or manner. He put something in the tea.

Drugs.

That's why it tasted bitter.

Eyes widening in shock, you stared at Andy as he leaned back, grinning broadly. "What did you do?" Jumping up, you only heard the cup collide with the floor.

The black dots dancing in front of your eyes grew larger and larger and you had a hard time keeping your balance. Andy caught you while you watched helplessly as your own body stopped obeying you and your breathing slowed down.

He tried to calm you down, held you tight and safe in his arms and stroked your head. Then everything went black.

Your skull throbbed as if someone had hit you with a hammer.

Ten times.

The bright light shining on your face didn't make things any better. The last memories slowly crept back into your consciousness and suddenly you opened your eyes.

The bedroom you were in was completely foreign to you. What was even worse, though, was that Andy was sitting on the bed you were lying in and stroking your hand with his thumb.

Before you could even slide away from him, he grabbed you by the wrist.

"Well, now look at that. Someone's awake. How are you?"

It took you a little while for the words to sort themselves out in your head. "Miserable." You squeezed out.

There was a small spark of anger in Andy's eyes, but he didn't let it break through. He obviously had to control himself a lot. "You've been asleep for a very long time, but you're probably still weak so I want you to just listen."

He pulled you into his lap and into a tight hug. He was right, your body felt like jello and so you had no chance of escaping the man you had once loved and who had just become your captor.

Horrified, you realized that you were no longer wearing Sunday's clothes, but only your underwear and a football sweater from Andy.

"You're probably wondering where we are. Well, I've created a place for us to be undisturbed, away from all the toxic influences that have destroyed our relationship. A house way out there. There's not even any real road access here. And here we will stay until you learn to love me again."

There it was again. He spoke to you like a small child. Your mind wandered, Andy noticed and grabbed you firmly, but not painfully, by the back of the neck.

"Don't even think about running away. All the windows and doors are locked. And even if you did make it out of here there would still be this." He pulled the top sheet aside and your eyes fell on your right ankle.

A thick black band was tied around it and on the outside was a small black box with a green light glowing on it. Andy had put an electronic shackle on you.

 "You...are sick." You babbled without thinking. Immediately Andy grabbed you under the arms, scooped you off his lap back onto the bed and made his way out of the room.

You regret your rash action. "STOP! Please." He actually stopped and slowly turned back to you. You had to choose your following sentences wisely, appealing to his empathy.

"Please, I don't mean it like that. I'm just so scared. I promise I'll stay with you and do what you say. Just let me text Beth and tell her I'm fine and not to worry. Please." Your voice grew softer and softer and in the end was just a whimpering whisper.

How could it have come to this. Your last hope was that he would believe you and you could contact Beth secretly.

But Andy's devilish grin frightened you. "Oh, dear. I've taken care of Beth. She won't bother us now. Never again."

Your scream stuck silently in your throat and you clawed your hands into the soft blanket. Your brain fought with all its might against comprehending what Andy had just said. As if you didn't want to believe it.

A pool of tears gathered in your eyes. "Don't mourn her, that would be in vain. I just have to take care of the last person who wants to hurt us. Your new little friend Frank Adler." With slow steps he came towards you.

"But I'll make you an offer. If you can convince me you're done thinking about him and want to stay with me, maybe I'll let him live."

Your heart clenched. You wanted to protect Frank at all costs. You didn't want to imagine what Andy would do to him.

"What do you want me to do?" Tears left your eyes and ran down your heated cheeks. Andy scrambled toward you from the bottom of your feet, straddled you, and played with the hem of your panties with one finger.

"I can show you. Though how about you show me first how sorry you are for leaving me."

His erection obviously pressed against his velvet pants and you swallowed a bile like taste as Andy opened his pants to take out his cock.

You didn’t want this at all. It made you sick. Yet the idea that Andy would do something cruel to Frank was worse.

So you obeyed and started to glide your tongue over him. His taste was like a refreshed memory. He held your head tightly between his big hands and guided it up and down. As you heard his grunts you could also taste little drops of pre-cum.

Soon he had enough and let go of you, not without praising you for being so docile. He looked at you with his doe eyes while he took off the rest of your clothes without resistance from you. Even though he had seen you naked so many times, you now felt somehow exposed and vulnerable.

He teased your clit with the tip of his cock, slapping and rubbing against it. Ashamed, you had to realize that you were wet and thus ready for his dick.

When Andy started to enter your wet hole with only his tip, the stretch already burned your muscles and you clenched around him. After this brief moment of familiarization, Andy established a steady hard rhythm to which he thrust into you completely.

He was hitting that sweet perfect spot deep inside you and pain larded with pleasure when he started playing with your clit. He liked to tease you this way because he knew how mushy and compliant you’d get.

“You’ll be lucky if you can sit for a week by the time I’m done with you. Let me show you how good I can make you feel.”

A soft tortured mewl left your throat in reply and Andy held your hips to thrust even harder into you causing your moans to get louder.

"So wet for me. So pure. So perfect."

He was close, you could feel that.

Desperately he rutted into you until he filled you up with his cum. When he gave you his last few jolts he rubbed you clit harder and pinched your nipples additionally which sent you over the edge, too. He muffled your cry with a kiss until you thought you would suffocate.

He rolled you both over so that you were lying on his chest. You shamefully hid your face there.

You felt horrible. Numb. Used.

“Good girl. I told you we would get back together.” he mumbled kissing your tears away. “Yet, I am not sure if you have entirely convinced me. Ready for a second round?”

~End~