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kiame-sama · 1 year ago

Note

I love your other Helluva Boss works, but I want to know more about Syren too! Also, what are your thoughts about Fizz and Ozzie's relationship? I've seen a few others comment on it, but I want to know what you think!

(how about both? A kind of fic-kind of headcannons for Syren and what I think of Ozzie and Fizz's relationship)

Warnings; same as for Helluva; "Graphic violence (not as bad), strong language, sexual themes, as well as rampant demon horniness", a few things are definitely NOT cannon but I tried my best with what I have,

~~~~~~~~

The true tasks of her morning began with getting the coffee ready and placed in the exact spot it should be. It was five minutes before the morning-person of the royal pair awoke to the sound of the Cock-oo Clock. The coffee was not black and untouched, it was treated with an ample helping of sugar and hell-cow creamer.

It was for Fizzarolli, the brat of the pair. Ozzie was a good dom and made sure Fizz's favorite coffee was ready when the pair finally awoke. Truly, it was what gave Fizz a good energy kick in an already energetic moment.

Then came directing the staff succubi around. Some were tasked with carrying clean sheets for the bed, others were tasked with organizing the files for Ozzie's work day. Every staff member had a task and silently followed the direction of the blood-line imp.

The distinct smell of bacon being cooked signaled the next change in task; feeding and harnessing the Quieves. Fizz had a trip to take to the Greed Ring and he wanted to take the Quieves with him. This meant that Princess would have plenty of down-time as Fizz enjoyed getting her ready himself and took it quite seriously. The others; Lulu, Fifi, Precious, Darling, Honey, Baby, Sweets, and Flower, all had to be harnessed and connected to their multi-leash.

It was at times like these where one could see how much Ozzie truly cared about Fizz. That multi-leash was a gift from Ozzie in a long line of special-ordered engraved gifts.

The collection began with Princess.

She had been a gift to Fizz from Ozzie especially after one bad night where the jester's implants backfired and caused him pain. The things he had adapted to as his limbs failed him and hurt him, so he was feeling truly down with the situation. Ozzie flat refused to let Fizz be in pain and removed them to work on them Himself. Without his mechanical limbs, Fizz wanted to have a wheelchair so he could still spend time with Ozzie. Fizz saw her first while on his phone. He felt a bond instantly, and Ozzie just had to get the Quieve for Fizz. The rest followed soon after, most being rescues that others didn't want or care for.

Every time Fizz gets another Quieve, Ozzie has another multi-leash made just so they can all be taken on a walk. They are presents that go hand-in-hand and usually are given on the same day. Ozzie is nothing if not a true King of doms.

From getting the Quieves ready, it transitions to doing summary work for Ozzie. The King of Lust did not like extensive reading when it comes to work, pictures being much more attuned to how He processed information and thought about things. This meant that blueprints had to be drawn accurately with only the most vital details, all subject to change depending on what Ozzie wanted. Just another 'Jack-of-All-Trades' aspect of being a blood-line imp. Art and sketching skills came with the territory.

As did vibrator designing, oddly enough.

Beyond that was greeting prince Stolas while Ozzie was busy in the factory. The appointment was for noon, but Ozzie never did run on a fine-line schedule unless it was for Fizz and Fizz alone.

The owl prince sat anxiously holding his crown and checking the time repeatedly. He had been let in and guided to the seating area outside of Ozzie's office to await the King of Lust.

"Greetings, prince Stolas."

"Oh," the prince jumped a little in surprise, "I didn't realize- ahem. I am here for my appointment with King Asmodeus at noon," his eyes flicked to the time again, "I... trust this is the correct day scheduled?"

"Yes, your highness. Ozzie is running a bit late with work in the factory. He will call for you when he is ready, though I do apologize for the wait."

"It's no trouble! Truly. I am glad He had time for me in His schedule at all."

"Would you like anything during your wait?"

"No, please don't mind me. I'm quite alright."

"As you wish. Call for me, should any need arise. I am here to at least somewhat ease your wait."

The owl prince considered this, his four eyes narrowing slightly in thought. He did have a question, but he didn't know if it would be rude to ask the blood-line imp or not.

"Does... does King Asmodeus often part with his crystals?"

"That depends. It is a case by case basis, but unless he has a particular dislike- or if his 'business' partner Fizz has a particular dislike- for the one benefiting, he typically can be convinced. I will give warning, however, Fizzarolli is out of the Lust Ring currently and in the Greed Ring. His Highness can get... curt... when He is worried, and as it is the Greed Ring, He is very worried. Should you hear the sound of a frog ringtone, it is likely He will end the discussion there as the one messaging Him has greater value over most, myself included."

Stolas asked no more questions, simply nodding and taking the advice to heart. Thus carried on the next four hours.

The next activity shift came with the rumbling roar of a furious Asmodeus. An event that could likely only be triggered by one thing; something happened to Fizz.

The information was easy to gather based on the sudden appearance of a lawyer demanding to an audience with Ozzie. The demon had far too much arrogance for your liking and you knew he wouldn't live long if Ozzie had anything to say about it.

The task was now simple; Find Fizz and retrieve the likely scattered or equally kidnapped Quieves. Fizz was the priority, then Princess, then the others. The loss of one being unforgivable but the loss of Fizz being a death sentence. Her very life hung in the balance, but such was life serving a Sin.

Princess was the easiest to find as she was the one with enough sense to return to The Jizzlord limo with Fizz suddenly taken. Precious, Honey, and Flower had the sense to follow Princess back to the limo. The driver wouldn't allow it to be stolen without first giving his life to defend it. The other five were not hard to find as they luckily stayed together. With the nine rounded up, The Jizzlord was sent back to the Lust Ring with the pups in tow.

All that was left was finding Fizz. Tracking him was difficult with the fact that not a trace was left and several hours had passed since he was snatched. Luckily his cybernetic limbs had tracers in them just for the situation of potential kidnapping. It took some time to get to the specified location, dodging and ending those who sought to rob her. The only thing that did manage to stall her was an unusual Wrath Ring imp, identifiable by the more snake-like qualities he carried.

She stopped because he stood outside the building Fizz's cybernetic trackers were, so either they removed his limbs, or he was inside.

The imp himself looked like he was frustrated- or perhaps he always looked that way- and he was grumbling something about an apparent 'hick-for-hire'. Once his eyes landed on her's though, he completely changed.

At first, he seemed to slightly grin upon seeing a female imp approaching. Then his ringed eyes flicked up to her forehead and that smirk turned into a sneer. He seemed to go between her chest and her brand before settling on her eyes with that apparent glare on his face.

"Well, lookie here. Another fuckin' disgrace to imp kind; not a purse dog but the fucking purse itself. A bit far from your Ring, eh blue-bitch?"

A typical insult used by most anti-royal demons so it had little effect, not that anything he said really could get a rise out of her. The few things that riled her only made her more stone-cold as opposed to how she was typically emotionally open with her Prince and Fizz. When she worked, there was only the goal ahead, her feelings be damned.

"Yes," he frowned at her response but she continued, "I am an absolute disgrace to imps everywhere, because I chose to be born into my famil- wait. No. Didn't do that. I certainly decided to serve a royal- no, wait. Wrong again, I was born and raised for the sole purpose for serving. Well how about being responsible for my parents deciding to- no, they were born into it too. Hmm," her voice was now clearly dripped a serious kind of sarcasm, one of her brows lifting just a twitch, "seems like I am just a bred-to-serve blood-line imp! So if anything, I am serving my intended purpose. You, on the other hand..."

The snake imp hissed and his tail went off with a rattle, his sneer becoming a snarl. His eyes narrowed, the yellow in them glowing with simmering rage. He rest his hand on the holstered pistol on his hip.

"I'm what, blue-bitch? Tell me. Make my fuckin' day."

"You are no better than me. Working for royals and royal-wannabes? Goetia? You talk like you hate them and want them all gone, but you are as dependent on them as I am dependent on my King. At least my leash gets to be diamond encrusted, your's can be that rope you're carrying. It doesn't work to help you, only your benefactors."

One glowing yellow eye twitched as he debated on shooting the Royal's bitch point blank, but he still heard her words clearly. They made an annoying amount of sense and he hated that. Before he could decide what to do, the sound of a ruckus going on inside drew his attention. Of course he was expected to show up as he was hired by the mobster in charge, so he decided to break off the stand-off. It sure as hell didn't mean he quit or conceded but he was needed elsewhere.

Striker's distraction from her and quick entry into the building gave her a quick look inside. It appeared that Fizz and Blitzo- someone Fizz hated for betraying him- were talking while dealing with those inside. From what she learned of Blitzo, he now went by Blitzø and was well known for killing with efficiency and skill. Fizz was no fighter, but he seemed to actually be enjoying the talk and mending burned bridges.

The mission is no longer save Fizz, but let Fizz be saved by his childhood friend turned enemy. He was in good hands.

Of course, a car would be acquired and brought to wherever Fizz wound up once leaving the warehouse. He could at least be brought back to Ozzie safely and all would once again be at peace.

The wait was not long, but the scene met up on arrival was rather shocking. There was fire everywhere and it seemed like Fizz was actually hugging Blitzø. From what she could tell, they made up thanks to the situation they were in together. She walked up, looking up at the two and wondering how she was going to get them down.

But, first things first;

"Your highness Fizzarolli, are you alright?"

"Woah, holy shit, Syren? Is Ozzie okay?"

"Highness Ozzie is being extorted for your safe return. I am here to try and prevent that from taking place. Luckily, the arrogant lawyer is trying to drag it out and make Him distraught so He has not agreed to anything yet."

It was then his friend spoke up, looking between her and Fizz.

"Wait a damn second, who is this hoe?"

"She's Ozzie's main blood-line imp, Syren. She kinda runs everything for Ozzie other than big stuff and she is the one Ozzie and I trust most!"

"Shit, I knew blood-line imps were a thing, but damn, didn't think I'd meet one outside of a fucking Sin's palace."

"Yeah! She-"

"Does this mean you can fuck her whenever you want?"

"Well, I mean, technically- damn it, Blitzo! Stop! Now let's get off this damn thing, I want to go home."

Syren sighed in relief and caught the jester as he jumped down into her arms, letting Blitzø climb down on his own. The car was ready and waiting for the pair as she returned to the driver's seat, headed back to the Ring transport to return to Lust. Both imps actually seemed relaxed in the company of one another despite the history Fizz claimed them to have.

"So, Fizz, what makes her special, hm? Why her and not one of the horny-rooster's succu-bitches?"

"Do you really not know what blood-line imps are?"

"Well," he sounded like he was making excuses now, "of course I do! I want to see if you know."

"Uh-huh, sure. Her family has worked for Ozzie since hell was formed! Most Sins have a preference for how their blood-line imps look, and Ozzie likes them to be more pink, not red like Lucifer or tan like Satan. Blood-line imps are bred to be strong but not very aggressive, so they can do whatever their Sin needs them to without getting all worked up. Ozzie says their horns are also supposed to be blunt and not pointed like most imps."

"Yeah, but why? Why do all this shit for an imp that can just be hired?"

"Because any hired imp can turn if they feel like it. Blood-line imps are born, raised, and bred to be loyal to their Sin without fail. Can't just hire any imp to take care of vital operations, need a blood-line imp to actually do the job without being corrupt as fuck."

"An imp that isn't corrupt? I'll believe it when I fucking see it."

"Syren knows about... about me and Ozzie. She hasn't told anyone but she treats me like she does Ozzie; like a royal. I'm sure demons try to convince or buy information from her, but she doesn't ever say a word about us to anyone."

She remained silent during the conversation, her forehead brand being enough to get her through to the Sin-exclusive transportation, so they didn't even have to get out of the car before they were back on Lust's roads and headed to Ozzies.

"Highness, can Blitzø find his way back on his own, or does he need an escort to his home ring?"

"Eh, Blitzo can just take the car from Ozzie's. Can you take me right to Ozzie when we get there?"

"Anything for you, highness."

Parking in front of Ozzie's was usually enough of a crime in the Lust Ring to get you jailed, but once they saw Syren, they quickly let the group be. Fizz said his farewells and Blitzø took the car to head back to his Ring. As requested, Syren led Fizz straight to Ozzie's office. From inside, the distinct snarl of an angry Ozzie put some pep in Fizz's step as he hurried in to soothe the Sin.

Not long after Fizz entered the office, prince Stolas emerged. He seemed amused, or perhaps vaguely smug as he left the office.

"Hello again, prince Stolas. Would you like transportation to your manor or will you be handling that yourself?"

"I can handle it. Thank you for your help, little one."

The sudden scream of terror from inside the office told Syren and Stolas that the arrogant lawyer demon was no more. Ozzie was not gentle when it came to revenge for His favorite jester and the sounds from His office made that clear. Syren gave a polite bow to the Goetia and returned to her duties, waiting for another call from Ozzie or Fizz.

When the two emerged from the office, she followed along silently as an ever present shadow of the Sin himself. She even smirked at the fear the succubi and incubi showed when Ozzie made an obvious threat should anyone think they want to go to the news about seeing Fizz and Ozzie together. Their room had already been cleaned and prepared for the two in anticipation of their arrival, Syren stopping and posting up by the door.

"Wait, Oz, the babies! I left them! What if they're scared and lost? And Princess is-"

"I have gathered up and ensured the safe return of all Quieves. They are a bit shaken from their ordeal, but I have been informed that they are tucked in and sleeping comfortably now."

"Whew! Thank fuck for that!"

"Upon hearing of the ransom, I made sure to go to Greed and gather them up. Princess is very smart and made her way back to the Jizzlord by herself."

It was then Ozzie gave a happy smile, nuzzling the top of Fizz's head affectionately.

"See babe? Everything is okay. Let me take care of you Fizzie-Frog."

"Oz..."

The evening carried on as most evenings did with just the two, quietly. Ozzie fixed the hand-crafted cybernetics Fizz used so happily and it was clear Fizz was thrilled to have his limbs back. He bounced and flipped with joy, seeming quite relaxed now that he was finally back with his Ozzie.

"The new tube of 'Loob' is in your bedside drawer, Your Highness."

"Good work as always, Ren dear."

"Happy to help, King Ozzie."

#kiame-sama #my oc #helluva boss

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almightytuba · 1 year ago

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I’ve been putting this post off for a while now but it’s becoming increasingly more important as the situation progresses.

I have been a part of the NanoWriMo YWP for four years now. I joined at a generally bad time and found some wonderful companions via the site. In my years there I have made connections, found community, improved and renewed my love for writing. That is not to say that the experience was entirely good, however. I will be forever grateful for the friends I’ve made and the outlet it gave me in rough times but I have been left disgusted overall by the site.

This site is promoted for anyone under 18, the forums available to anyone 13-18. The program is not only readily available with no moderation as to verifying users (allowing for many spam accounts and ‘backups’, as I will address in a moment) but is promoted in schools nation-wide. Without any protection and moderation on a global site, the YWP creates a breeding ground for predatory behavior in a place advertised towards children and teens. It’s my firm belief that yes, the YWP is a fantastic concept- most teens are not able to find supportive communities or allowed to express themselves and the site acts as such, This is a horrifying notion but it’s realistic when children are continuously and purposely overlooked for the purpose of ‘saving face.’ The YWP has done exactly that. It has failed not only me, but my friends, teachers, and schools.

I have been present for a mere fraction of the garbage the site allows to fester within it. I cannot speak from experience in all events but what I can speak for with certainty, I will.

1- Predators and predatory behavior. One of the greatest flaws of the site is that what could have been avoided genuinely avoided if its users taken seriously or given an ounce of respect. Predators being allowed to run rampant is not in the least new to the site and it’s almost entirely up to its users to keep themselves safe. Mods have continued to err on the side of perpetrators. Perhaps if this happened once, it could be excusable by some great reach- but this is repeated behavior from the people entrusted to the site. Time after time I have engaged in “flagging battles”- the only thing users have virtually with no in-site blocking system- against users telling teens to kill themselves, to doxx themselves, to engage in sexual activities. Let me remind you that YWP is a writing site for children- and if accounts can that simply lie about their age, I can assure you there are users younger than the 13 minimum roaming around the site.

2- Harassment and bullying. As I said above, anyone can make an account. This includes troll/spam accounts, and sheer amount of repeat offenders on the site is repulsive. In the rare case mods do anything about what occurs in-site (rather than ban users that are self-moderating and genuinely trying to help), users are just able to make a new account. The sheer amount of times I have seen backup accounts log made for the sake of spamming “KYS” is almost astonishing. I could talk for ages on this; how the same user has come back and perpetuated racism, sexism, homophobia- anything just to ‘piss people off’. The YWP is allegedly a ‘safe space’ for its large queer community and a neurodivergent populous. With this rampant behavior the site only works to perpetuate hate.

3- Moderation. I am aware that this is a subject of controversy, many vocal points screaming out at the YWP- “why don’t you just ignore it if you don’t like it?” And to that I ask you if ignoring a prevalent problem truly makes it dissipate. Although the answer clear, we are still told our anger unjustified or methods fear-mongering. This disgusts me. We are justified. We are allowed to be as vocally angry as we wish because we have been wronged and have virtually no other power to do anything about it.

There are endless ways that the mods have failed us. By refusing to listen to the community they only work to make the space less safe, banning those who speak out and ‘hurt their feelings’ or by kicking dirt over incidents of their own failure. This is non-conducive work and I have no idea how it passed for it for so long.

If you have any questions, feel free to ask me.

#nanowrimo ywp #nanowrimo controversy #nanowrimo

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whatacaitastrophe · 8 months ago

Text

Everything Has Changed - Chapter 11

Previous Chapter

Chapter Song Inspiration: "Seven Nation Army" - Stevie Howie

Chapter Warnings: Idiots talking about their feelings.

Spotify Playlist: Here

Author Notes: thank you all so much for reading, reblogging, liking, and commenting on this fic (and the first one)! if you are interested in supporting me in other ways, I have a Ko-Fi link <3

i also have a discord server! it was created to coincide with my twitch channel but you do NOT need to follow/subscribe/watch my twitch streams to come hang out with us <3 we talk a lot about bg3 and share memes and fics.

Chapter 11: Talkin' to Myself at Night

The night of what she’d started referring to as “the incident” in her mind, Fallon didn’t sleep. Her mind was too busy. It was one thing to imagine her boyfriend and ex-boyfriend kissing, or imagine herself as the middle portion of a vampire and sorcerer sandwich, but it was another entirely for those fantasies to become a reality. Add in the fact that “the incident” in question occurred without her consent, and Fallon was left feeling truly unsure of how she felt, or if coming to some sort of arrangement with Astarion and Gale was something she even wanted anymore.

Fallon felt betrayed, and not just by Astarion. Gale swore that he never wanted to hurt Fallon again, and it took him less than a month to break that promise. Not only that, but once upon a time, Gale told Fallon that he was only interested in monogamous relationships. Fallon also knew that if the situation were reversed, and she were the one kissing Astarion without Gale’s consent, that Gale probably would have broken up with her on the spot upon catching them. The hypocrisy was rampant, and the hole in her heart that began to fill after rekindling her friendship with Gale was leaking again because of it. All of the reasons Fallon told herself that she couldn’t open her heart to Gale again (beyond the sexual relationship with Gale and Astarion she’d already fantasized about) were completely validated less than twenty-four hours after she’d even realized it was something she might want.

Then there was Astarion: the man who’d seen how fragile her heart was, glued the pieces Gale broke back together, promised to take care with it, and then promptly dropped it on the ground to shatter at the first opportunity. When she first met Astarion, he’d been all honeyed words of affirmation with a perfectly crafted persona to entice Fallon and the rest of their companions into trusting him as a method of survival. Was that still all she was to the vampire? A means to an end to ensure he survived another day? Had Astarion been playing the long con this whole time, and Fallon fell for it? Deep down, Fallon knew this wasn’t true; that Astarion loved her fiercely and genuinely. However, the logical part of her that knew this was currently being completely overpowered by her insecurities and anxieties, both of which were screaming at her for being stupid enough to trust that Astarion would keep his promise.

It all hurt, and the thing Fallon hated the most was that the person she would normally go to when she was hurting was the source of her pain. She thought about using her sending stone to contact Shadowheart, or Karlach, but Fallon could hear her friends’ voices in her mind already.

Shadowheart would tell her to go home– to go back to Baldur’s Gate and leave the vampire and the sorcerer to suffer the consequences of their actions and reflect on what they lost simply because they forgot to use their brains. “If they’re stupid enough to make that mistake, then they deserve each other, and certainly do not deserve you.”

Karlach, on the other hand, would probably jump straight to murder. Murder wasn’t usually Karlach’s go-to method of solving problems. Unless, of course, someone she cared about got hurt. With how happy-go-lucky Karlach was most of the time, it was easy to forget that the tiefling-turned-illithid once served in Zariel’s army, and that she killed a lot of people on Zariel’s behalf. “Say the word, soldier, and I’ll meet you in Waterdeep, sneak up on them in an alley, and make their deaths look like an accident.”

The solutions her friends would likely offer Fallon were not actually reasonable, or helpful, because they were just different forms of taking the easy way out, of running away from her problems. In the end it wouldn’t solve anything, and the person that was most likely to suffer most would still be Fallon. After all, how she felt about Astarion hadn’t suddenly changed in the wake of everything. How she’d started to feel about Gale again hadn’t gone away. Walking away from the two halves of her heart would do nothing but break her further.

At the end of the day, Fallon wanted to give Gale and Astarion the benefit of the doubt. She wanted to believe that “the incident” had been as unexpected and unplanned as they said it was. She wanted to believe that Astarion and Gale actually cared as deeply for her as they claimed.

Most importantly, she wanted them , and at the end of a sleepless night into a restless morning, that was where Fallon’s mind landed. The men who claimed to love her so deeply would get a chance to prove their love, but she would make them work for it. There would be no glossing over their infidelity and jumping right into a conversation about what being “together” as a threesome would look like. No, she fully intended to make the vampire and the sorcerer squirm, and to sit with the consequences of their actions for a while; to make them see earning her forgiveness was not as simple as saying “Sorry, it was an accident, we love you!”

Fallon slipped out of the inn in Daggerford as soon as she was certain the shops were open, and purchased her own tent, as she had no intention of sharing one with Astarion for the next three days while they made the final leg of their journey to Waterdeep. Fallon knew herself, and having Astarion that close would increase the opportunity for her to have a moment of weakness, to fold too soon.

When she returned to the inn with her new tent slung over her shoulder in a bag, Astarion and Gale were in the tavern, where the latter was eating breakfast. Astarion noticed her enter the tavern first, and he nudged Gale, nodding in Fallon’s direction. Gale looked at Fallon hopefully as she made her way towards the table. Fallon did not sit down as she observed the two men. They both looked tired, and Fallon did not even feel bad about the fact that knowing they slept like shit too brought her a little bit of joy.

“I’ve decided I’ll be sleeping in my own tent for the next couple of days.” She explained, acknowledging the bag over her shoulder. Astarion’s eyes flickered sadly as he realized they were not forgiven yet, and that his actions would cost him more than a single night without Fallon in his arms.

“What you did, what it means…Quite honestly, just looking at the two of you hurts. You don’t get to treat me like that and expect me to carry on like nothing happened, even if the idea of the three of us being an “us” is something I want to talk about. I refuse,” Fallon’s voice was cold, and she could feel her throat threatening to close up as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Gods dammit, she was not going to cry in the middle of the fucking tavern. She furiously blinked back her tears, averting her gaze from Astarion and Gale since looking at them was just making it worse. “I need more time. When I’m ready to talk, I’ll come to you. Be ready to leave in an hour.” She did not stick around to see them silently nod their heads as they agreed to her terms, or the way that they guiltily looked at each other because they made her cry (again).

Fallon did not speak to Gale or Astarion unless absolutely necessary for the next three days. In fact, a passerby would have assumed that somebody had cast a Silencing spell over their group, with how quiet their journey from Daggerford to Waterdeep was. Fallon’s silent treatment made Gale and Astarion hesitant to even speak to each other in her presence, and while Fallon hadn'tt asked them to do that, if they wanted to deprive themselves of verbal communication until she was ready to speak to them both as some form of self-punishment, she also wasn't going to correct them.

At night, after she retired to her tent for the evening, Fallon often heard them talking to each other in hushed tones as she drifted off to sleep. Each conversation was entirely about her, how terrible they felt for hurting her so badly that she was still ignoring them, and when they thought she would speak to them again.

“I didn’t think it was possible for her to be quiet for this long,” Gale muttered to Astarion on the eve of the third day. “How much longer do you believe this will last?”

“I’m not sure, but if she didn’t deign to speak to us for another fortnight, would you blame her? I consider us lucky that she’s even considering speaking to us again at all,” Astarion countered, sighing heavily, and Fallon smiled softly to herself as she listened. “We’ll reach Waterdeep tomorrow, so maybe she’ll be ready to talk once we get to your tower?”

“I hope so,” Gale said wistfully. “Speaking of which, I got a hold of Tara. Everything should be ready when we arrive.”

“Excellent. Gods, I hope this works. I wouldn’t blame Fallon for ignoring us for another fortnight if she wished, but that doesn’t mean I want her to. I didn’t realize it was possible to miss someone you see every day.”

Though Fallon could have guessed that Astarion missed her (probably Gale, too) by the way they looked at her whenever she’d grant either of them any brief acknowledgement in the last three days, it was still nice to hear the vampire say it out loud. Giving Astarion and Gale the silent treatment had been harder for Fallon than she thought it would be, because every time she acknowledged them, the hopeful look on their faces, the optimistic thought that, perhaps, the worst of her hurt and anger might be over, nearly broke her resolve. Not speaking to them unless absolutely necessary had also made Fallon miss them , too. By the time they rode through the city entrance to Waterdeep, the deepest parts of the hurt Fallon felt because of their actions had passed. The pain wasn’t completely gone, but the idea of talking to Gale and Astarion about it didn’t reduce her to tears anymore. That was Fallon’s internal sign that she was ready for this conversation, and perhaps, to begin down the path to forgiveness.

The City of Splendours was just as beautiful as the name would suggest, and Fallon was actually starting to think that Gale had somehow managed to undersell his hometown. She couldn’t help but watch Gale’s face as he took in the city as they passed through the streets. Fallon couldn’t remember the last time she saw Gale look so happy. In fact, Fallon wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever seen Gale as happy as he was in that moment.

Gale looked back at Fallon, still beaming as they rode beside each other. “If you’ll allow me to take the lead, I will escort us to my tower.” She nodded, pulling back on her horse’s reins slightly so Gale could pass, and even that small acknowledgement made Gale��s smile so much brighter. Of course, finding Gale’s tower wouldn’t have exactly been difficult even if she and Astarion had been on their own. The ornate tower was centrally located, and arguably one of the tallest buildings she could see. To her surprise, there were people waiting to take their horses to a nearby stable when they arrived, and a small bit of sadness filled Fallon as she kissed her own horse’s nose for the final time, at least until they returned. It wasn’t like the horses could go through the portal to Asha with them, and no matter how long they remained in Waterdeep, Fallon had a feeling they’d mostly walk.

The quiet filling the air as Fallon, Gale, and Astarion entered the landing level of Gale’s tower was a different kind of silence to the one they’d been sitting in for the last several days. Fallon and Astarion were in too much awe to speak, and Gale was just so happy to be home that he looked like he was trying not to cry. “It’s beautiful, Gale.” Fallon said softly as they ascended the stairs to the next level, where Tara was waiting for them in the sitting room.

“Mr. Dekarios! It is so lovely to see you sir, you’re looking much better than you were the last time I saw you– even if you still haven’t shaved that horrid thing on your face. Nice to see you both again, too.” Tara greeted them.

“Hi Tara.” Fallon giggled, not able to help herself. She remembered Gale lamenting about how much the tressym hated his long hair and scruffy face, but Gale liked it, so it stayed. Fallon liked it, too, so she was glad that Gale’s companion hadn’t managed to bully him into getting rid of it.

Gale sighed, but the smile on his face never faded as he shook his head at Tara. “It’s lovely to see you as well, Tara. I’ve missed you,” he squatted down so he could scratch beneath the tressym’s chin. When he stood again, he clapped his hands together. “Is everything in order?”

Tara hopped onto the back of the sofa. “Everything is in order and still on schedule,” she confirmed, and Fallon looked back and forth between Gale and Astarion with a curious look on her face. “Is what in order?” It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Tara was referring to whatever plan Astarion and Gale concocted to get back in her good graces, but there was a schedule?

Astarion removed his facial covering now that they were indoors again, and he gave her a sly look in reply. “You’ll find out soon enough, darling, but I’m afraid you’ll need to remain in the dark just a bit longer.”

Gale’s look matched Astarion’s, and suddenly Fallon found herself regretting putting the two of them in a situation to conspire against her. “Indeed. On that note, I’m afraid we have to kick you out for a bit,” Fallon frowned as Gale continued. “Not to worry, though! Tara has agreed to act as your guide while you explore the city”

Fallon opened her mouth to argue– she’d really been looking forward to just taking a bath and mentally preparing herself for the conversation she intended to have with the vampire and the sorcerer standing before her; but before she could say anything, Astarion cut her off as he reached into his pocket for a small satchel that had the telltale jingle of coin inside, offering it to her. “I realize we’ve not given you much of a reason to trust us recently, but I promise you won’t regret it. Please.” His eyes were soft and pleading, the closest to a puppy-eyed expression Fallon had ever seen Astarion make. Gale was already rubbing off on him.

If they really went this far out of their way to plan something for her, the least she could do is play along. Fallon let out a resigned sigh and nodded. “Lead the way, Tara.” She gestured to the door and relief washed over Gale and Astarion’s faces, the latter looked like he’d kiss Fallon if she let him. The tressym hopped down from the back of the sofa and made her way towards the door. “This way, miss Fallon.” Fallon nodded in goodbye to Astarion and Gale, smiling softly at them, and she followed Tara out.

Once back outside the tower, Tara hopped up onto Fallon’s shoulder, causing the elf to let out a noise of surprise. “Forgive me, miss Fallon, it’s just easier to travel like this– I fear you’d lose me rather quickly otherwise. Our first stop isn’t far.”

“First stop?” Fallon asked warily.

“Oh yes, this is a multiple-stop outing, miss Fallon. Astarion and Mr. Dekarios gave me explicit instructions.”

“Why am I suddenly nervous?” Fallon mused as she weaved through the streets of Waterdeep, Not a single passerby seemed to be surprised to see a tressym sitting on her shoulder, which meant things like this were just…normal here. She followed Tara’s instructions as she took in her surroundings.

Fallon didn’t know why it surprised her so much, but their first stop was a bookshop. She should have known, since this was an outing at least half-planned by Gale Dekarios. The shop was quiet, with only around twenty or so other patrons milling about and browsing books. “Hello, Norbert!” Tara greeted someone as they entered. The halfling sitting on a high top stool behind the counter looked up from his book, and as soon as he saw Fallon and Tara, his face brightened. “Ah, Tara! I was wondering when you’d be by. Let me go grab your order.”

The halfling slid from his stool and disappeared into the back of his shop. “Tara, did Gale send me out with you to run his errands?” She laughed.

“Technically, yes, but also no. We’re not here for an order for Mr. Dekarios.”

Confusion etched across Fallon’s features. “Are we running your errands?”

“Goodness, I thought Mr. Dekarios said you were a bright woman,” the tressym chastised, and Fallon frowned. “He placed an order for you, dear.”

Fallon’s face immediately softened, and her heart swelled in her chest. Of course Gale would use books as a means of re-gaining favor with someone. The halfling returned with a small stack of books in his hands, and Fallon immediately recognized the book on the bottom of the stack just from its spine. She waited patiently for the halfling to set the books on his counter before touching them. “Here you are, all present and accounted for.”

Fallon reached for the books and began scanning the titles– the first three were all romance novels, but the last book in the stack made Fallon gasp. It was a first edition copy of the book about the boy wizard. How had Gale managed to find this? The book was printed almost twenty years ago. Fallon carefully opened it, and a folded piece of parchment slipped out, fluttering to the floor. Tara jumped onto the counter as Fallon bent down to retrieve it, and she realized it was a note, addressed to her. Fallon unfolded the parchment and recognized the neat, precise script with which it was written.

“ Dearest Fallon,

As you know, when we met, one of the first things that drew me to you was our shared love of literature. Once upon a time I recommended three romance novels to you, and promised to procure copies for you after we saved the world. These are a bit delayed on delivery, seeing as we saved the world two years ago at this point, but I do hope you enjoy them all the same. I’d planned on taking you to this shop to purchase copies for you once we arrived in Waterdeep anyway and then, well, you know what happened.

You’ve obviously read the last one in the stack, but you mentioned Astarion has been hogging your copy, so I had Norbert find another for you. Admittedly, I was quite surprised when he told me that he had a first edition copy in his stockroom! What a treasure, indeed, just like its new owner.

I realize that it might seem like I am trying to buy your forgiveness, but I can assure you that is not the case. I would have bought them for you anyway, because you deserve to start doing things you enjoy again, after spending so long sacrificing yourself and your needs for the greater good. Though I do look forward to (hopefully) hearing your thoughts on the romance books once you’ve finished them. They’re quite riveting.

Yours,

Gale”

Fallon’s smile grew wider and wider as she read Gale’s not. The sorcerer might not have been trying to buy her forgiveness, but it was definitely helping. “Thank you, Norbert. These are lovely. I can’t wait to read them.”

The halfling beamed at her. “Enjoy! Gale has excellent taste, so I doubt you’ll be disappointed.”

Tara jumped back onto Fallon’s shoulder. “Tara, do we have time for me to browse for a bit, to see if I find anything else I might like?”

“We do! Mr. Dekarios had a feeling you might want to browse,” Tara confirmed, and Fallon smiled. “He said to tell you to pick out whatever you’d like, and Norbert will put it on his tab.”

Of course Gale had a tab at his local bookshop, Fallon was not even surprised. She spent the next half-hour browsing the shelves and managed to limit herself to two additional books. After all, Gale already bought her four and she didn’t want to seem like she was taking advantage of his kindness (and his desire to get back on her good side). With her books stashed in her bag of holding, Fallon exited the shop and looked around. “Where to next, Tara?”

The next shop they visited was a dress shop, and Fallon did not even need to ask which man instructed Tara to bring her here. Just as Norbert had, the elven woman running the shop recognized Tara, and she immediately greeted them both with a bright smile as she pulled a note out of a drawer on her side of the counter. Once again, the note was addressed to Fallon and was written in a familiar, elegant script.

“Fallon, my love,

I believe I still owe you a new dress after ruining yours at the Winter Solstice. The shop has your measurements, and I told them what colors you prefer, so they hopefully pulled a few things already. I look forward to seeing whichever breathtaking option you choose.

I love you.

xx,

Astarion”

Even the notes they’d each written for her were entirely in character. Gale’s verbosity extended even to paper, while Astarion was right to the point, and each note left Fallon’s heart stuttering in her chest. Sure enough, as Fallon pocketed the note from Astarion, the shopkeeper had walked across the shop to a small rack of dresses separate from everything else. Fallon smiled at the assortment of dark blue, burgundy, and black dresses that hung there. “Tara, I don’t suppose you know if there’s a specific occasion I should be shopping for, or if I’m simply just to choose any dress that suits my fancy?”

“I’ve been instructed to tell you that there are plans this evening for which you might want to have a new dress but, and I quote, 'she could show up wearing rags off the floor of the Elfsong Tavern and she’d still look beautiful, so it doesn’t matter.' ”

Fallon snorted with laughter. Even Tara’s delivery of the instructions sounded like Astarion. “Well alright then.”

There was a stool next to the rack of clothing, and Tara jumped onto it and sat down. “While I am not privy to all of the details, Mr. Dekarios alluded to the…transgressions he and Astarion committed together. As a result, he and Astarion are now both desperate to prove how much they care for you, and are equally as desperate to earn your forgiveness,”

“Well that’s certainly one way of putting it.” Fallon hummed as she began to examine the dresses on the rack before her with intent.

“So, miss Fallon, if I may make one tiny suggestion? One female to another?” There was a mischievous tone in Tara’s voice that piqued Fallon’s curiosity, and she tore her gaze from the dresses to look at the tressym.

“Let’s hear it.” Fallon agreed.

“Make them crawl.”

Chapter List

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #astarion #female tav #bg3 fanfic #gale x tav #astarion x tav #bloodweave #bloodweave x tav #astarion x gale x tav #bg3 fan fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fan fiction #bg3 fic

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collinnmckinley · 1 year ago

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Given the content that runs rampant in the tags and some of the comments I've seen left on the reblogs of your gifs, I totally get the stance you have taken. It costs absolutely nothing to not be a fucking weirdo on someone else's posts. Commenting on people's gifs with your daddy kink, questionable age gaps, power inbalances and whatever other sexual fantasies is so incredibly rude and does not respect or consider boundaries. Why should you be grateful someone reblogged from you when they don't even have the courtesy to consider that the comments they're leaving on your posts could be triggering or uncomfortable for you? You can keep your fucking reblog if you can't keep your kink to yourself for long enough to press a damn button. Make your own posts if you want to talk about your fantasies.

I love smut but most of what I see in this fandom is just unhinged borderline sexual violence and nothing more because everyone is getting their ideas from porn and other shitty fanfics normalizing damaging behaviors. Yes, it's fiction. Yes, it's fantasy. But again there is a boundary issue and since people in this fandom think it's okay to leave unwanted sexual comments on other people's posts without any sort of provocation, they obviously don't understand boundaries.

I really like your gifs but another reason I followed you is because it was refreshing to see another fan who is fed up with the current state of the fandom. So yeah, fuck you other anon, "seek God" and good riddance. No one should have to put up with this sort of content getting shoved down their throat.

I love you anon, you truly are a treasure. and I hope everything you ever wanted from wishes to hoping, becomes real and true.

you said it! I enjoy my fair share of smut too, but man, the lack of limitation to what should and should not be written is almost none existing in this fandom. and when you speak up about it, you become the bad guy.

ngl this ask almost made me cry from how warm it made me feel. every time I see someone else share the same thoughts I do, it somehow manages to surprise me all over again. cause the amount of degenerates in this fandom is wild, and when I meet someone who is sane with critical thinking, it makes me feel un-alone.

thank you for following <3

and thank you for really liking my gifs (︶︹︺)🫰

#jay answers #anonymous

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arslankavas · 1 year ago

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⸻⸻ ✦ BURAK ÇELIK, CISMALE, HE/HIM ✦ ARSLAN KAVAS the THIRTY-THREE year old has been in the QZ for TWO YEARS. The HUNTER is/are said to be PATIENT and CLOSED-OFF but I guess we’ll find out for ourselves. ( mel / 23 / est / they/them )

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: death, murder, parental death + sibling death, injury, weapons

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

Name: Arslan Bilal Kavas Nicknames/Alias: None

Faceclaim: Burak Çelik

Age: Thirty-three Gender: Cismale Sexuality: Bisexual Date/Place of Birth: August 2nd / Chicago, IL Currently: Dallas QZ

Positive Traits: Patient, determined, methodical Negative Traits: Closed-off, self-destructive, impulsive Astrological Sign: Leo Archetype: The vindictive

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘.

Arslan Kavas was the eldest of the Kavas line -- remembering very little of his early years except for being reminded constantly of his place in the world. With a name that loosely translated to lion, it was no secret that he had big shoes to fill. He grew up in a very loving home, but has very little coherent memories of it all. However, his life truly began when he was thirteen years old. The end of the world was certainly far from a quiet one, he still hears the echos of the messangers, words just as impactful as the bombs that wiped out his hometown.

After their evacuation, they spent the next eight years in a quarantine zone. While out in the world without a safe place to land -- Arslan had always found himself doing everything he could to protect his sister. Even within the safety of the walls that kept them contained, he found himself always trying to keep an eye on her. It soon became clear that while he and his sister cared for each other deeply, they had two distinctly opposite views of the world.

While Eda believed the world had already festered through completely, Arslan believed that there was a chance for even the slightest amount of normalcy.

The world seemed gleefully mundane for a while -- allowing the world to keep turning without the slightest hint of fear. However, all was soon lost. News of a Firefly attack caused Arslan to run as fast as his legs could possibly carry him, gripping tightly to Eda's hand as they dashed for safety. And while there was some hope that the entirety of the Kavas family would make it out -- find themselves on the run once more. He had been preparing himself for this very moment... and then, he failed.

His mother, father, and youngest sibling were taken out by the rampant gun fire -- and neither he or Eda were able to process. Instead, accompanied by a pack of stolen gear, Arslan and his sister soon disappeared in the night, all hope diminished. It was a cruel world, the way you can have even a sliver of everything and within a matter of seconds, nothing at all.

Before he can blink, he has been on the run with his sister for ten years. And while the hopeful voice he had once listened to as a child bellowed in the back of his mind, he knew better than to listen. Instead, he pushed them back -- tuned them out. All in favor of making sure he and his sister could beat the odds that the world had set out for them and do the only thing they could: survive.

He considers discovering the quarentine zone to be the greatest blessing in disguise, specifically appearing amidst one of the scariest moments of his life. After tripping over a root and descending down a nearby hill towards a creek, he and Eda soon came to the conclusion that his ankle had snapped completely. Before an army of clickers could descend upon them, a group of Dallas residents overheard his muffled screams and were able to fend them off. They were soon taken to the QZ where he received care. And while he initially believed maybe moving forward was the best course of action.. he was assigned a job. After that, he began to make friends.

Suddenly, running and looking over his shoulder didn't seem like the reality he wanted anymore... even if his sister thinks otherwise.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

Aslan has been blessed with remarkable throwing accuracy, a skill that he has carried with him. His weapons of choice are a collection of throwing knives that he carries with them -- both as a hunter or in combat. He also works well with a bow and arrow and axes.

Definitely has a sarcastic personality, and he's most certainly a charmer, both sides of himself that he has kept hidden away. Being in a quarantine zone has allowed him to slowly learn how to open himself up and even if he has a long way to go, he finds himself truly becoming day by day.

Yes, can often be found at the bar. Not only is it one of the few social spots in the QZ, but the ability to have some amount of fun and let himself go certainly draws him to the place.

Stands at 6'3, and certainly carries himself in a manner that fits the hight. Maybe it's an unspoken need to be respected, admired.

MORE TO COME.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

Best Friends - Since arriving in Dallas, he has been inseparable from these two people. They've definitely been part of the reason that he's so hesitant about leaving the QZ. ( 0/2 ): OPEN

Friends - Arslan is a charming guy who tends to get himself in trouble and gets a certain amount of joy out of making other people laugh. Thus, he usually does well in social situations and has a good amount of people he considers friends. ( 0/any ): OPEN

Hookup - Despite Arslan's general belief system, he has the commitment skills of a wet rag. Thus, he's definitely experienced no shortage of hookups since arriving in Dallas. ( 0/any - former or current ): OPEN

Love Interest - Arslan never expected to fall in love, especially considering that Dallas was initially supposed to be a temporary place. However, this person seemed to change his entire plan. ( 0/1 ): OPEN

#arslan // about #dallasintro

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lilmajorshawty · 4 years ago

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I hope this isn’t to vulgar to ask but have you experienced men of every rising sign? More so would you be able to speak on the genitalia of all the eighth house signs in men you’ve encountered? I would like to see if there is any merit in the general depictions of the eighth house when it comes to sex organs

Haha you’re fine my love! I don’t mind being of help!

I personally attract virgo, Sagittarius, Gemini, Scorpio rising men the most. I have had sexual encounters with men of all 12 zodiac signs and I’ve managed to get rising signs for a great deal of them! Sadly I can’t speak broadly on many of the rising signs considering the higher volume of the four I just mentioned being the majority of the ones that come my way.

Aries rising men: in my experience? Sweet, they are very much what you see is what you get types considering their entire chart is a reflection of the natural traits of all 12 zodiac signs in their comfortable houses. Sexually I would say their sexual organs look dark, like literally they have a darker tone then the rest of their body. They aren’t rough sexually but they can be very intense, if I could describe them? I’d say it felt like I was swimming in a pool at night with strobe lights at the bottom. They know how to have sex and it feels good, they are very much so emotionally available during and after. Very violent orgasams and can seem very spiritual during.

Taurus rising men: in my experience? Babies. They can be needy and distant at the same time, very weird mix. They want things at a very specific time and can be hard to compromise with especially sexually. the thing that stood out to me is how fast they ejaculate, and I don’t mean this in a bad way, they are just very easily aroused much like a literal bull. They tend to love foreplay but if you’re too good at it they’ll cum fast. They can be very vibrant and bubbly during sex lots of laughter, but if they’re not laughing they’re usually just super into it lmao. They have very big and long sexual organs. I wouldn’t say thick, I would say more like a long sword in typical sag style. They are very out of tune emotionally during sex so that’s the only downside.

Gemini rising men: in my experience? Sad boys. They got issues and they’re not good at hiding them. They can seem moody, aloof and slightly misunderstood. I can’t peg them sometimes, they seem like they have a mixture of mommy and daddy issues but then they can seem arrogant and self assured at a moments notice. Domination kinks and restriction plague them. I would say the sex is often sensual and deeply attentive in its nature. They want to feel all of it and none of it at the same time. Touch and physical intimacy is the thing they adore the most in sex and I think that’s what makes them so special. They’re really sweet and good natured and you get to see that part of them more freely during sex as contrary to the belief of Capricorn in the 8th these natives are tremendously affectionate and loving during sex. I will say that they get sad or more serious after climax and I have no idea wether Saturn does that or if it’s something deeper. They may be a bit on the smaller side when it comes to sexual organs in most cases but they know how to use it for sure. They are very horny like the goat

Cancer rising men: in my experience? I’ve dealt with some who have cap and others who have aqua in the 8th, for some reason the result is still similar in a way. They can be soooo receptive, they know what you need better than you do. They are present but not overbearing. They feel parental but in a way that feeds the parts of you that felt like they were missing something. I’d say sex always comes with a lesson with them. It’s never just casual sex. They tend to nurture during sex and can be very emotionally deep and connective during. They are definitely the type you spend the night with naturally or hang out with the next few days or unexpectedly end up dating. The sexual organs are usually pretty unique! Some curve, some have like those cute beauty marks on em. They also tend to be well hung.

Leo rising men: in my experience? I found them to be distant, perplexing and heavy. They seem a bit disengaged but can have moments of affectionate behavior and romantic burst that come from nowhere. Sexually though they can be passive, they feel real wet and liquidy I dunno how to describe it. Sex with them just feels very moist and like there’s a lot of fluids everywhere but idk it doesn’t feel like a bad thing. They precum a lot and can be very submissive. They are not horny per say? They are more on the “if you wanna” side of things. So Neptune and Jupiter rule Pisces so as you can already imagine these men tend to be packing some heat. They sorta dunno how to use it though? For some reason they have a very clumsy way of having sex as if they’ve never done it before? They don’t really have boundaries either so you’ll need to make sure to ask them if they’re okay cause a lot of the time they might not be.

Virgo rising men: in my experience? I’m gonna try and not be biased. These men are very ethereal. They are very quiet and genuine. They have this very honest and blunt way about doing and saying things. They carry a lot of pain though and you can see it in their eyes which I will say they have very intense eyes. Sexually? They are VERY passionate. They treat sex like a sport but not a fun sport, rather they treat it like a life or death ring match. They definitely pack a punch and will rock your shit. They can be deeply sensitive and intimate all the while being completely in tune with every part of you during sex in such a way that’ll make you feel like you’re freefalling. The genitals in my experience are veiny, very masculine in the way they look. Every time I see a guy with a Virgo rising it never ceases to amaze me how rough and aggressive their penis are. They are also very intense ejaculators and can be very big on equal ejaculation(my pleasure is your pleasure theme) contrary to the Aries myth, they can go and go and go for hours without cumming so as a warning please try and build your stamina

Libra rising men: in my experience? Confused? They can seem like they’re waiting for something to start but also won’t do anything to make something start. They can seem aggressive but are secretly hoping you make the first move. They are very touchy and very adorable in their being but they definitely can be the types to let the other person take the lead. One thing I’ve always liked about libra rising men is their cute butts and their charming way of seducing you without oversexualizing the situation. Sexually they are AMAZING Jesus. Once you get them going they will really run rampant. They are very sensual and they love slow touching and intimacy. They are emotionally present and can have a personality change during sex, they turn into a whole other Individual. A warning I will say is that they get very caught up in the moment and you’ll have to snap them out of it from time to time if they’re to caught up in the pleasure. They’re sexual organs like most fixed signs is pretty thick and heavy. In my experience the length is normal but the girth is what will really kill yah.

Scorpio rising men: in my experience? Fuck these guys are HOT. They don’t have to try very hard either which is annoying, they literally just exude this strong, mysterious and emotionally unavailable energy that makes you want to strip right in front of them. Are they into you? Do they care? Are you more into it then them? Who knows and they probably won’t tell you. They can be very manipulative and tend to gaslight(and I’m not joking about this nor am I jokingly using the term) they tend to have mental detachments from their emotions which can give them sociopath like tendecies. Sexually they are curious, very control oriented. They want to watch you go crazy so most times they leave you in charge. Riding is one of their favorite positions because they get to see you fein for them. They are senstive to your feelings during sex but don’t mistake this for them being emotionally invested in you, the Gemini in their 8th house is playing whatever role gets you to respond in the way they desire. They are very loving nonetheless when they do truly care for you. The sexual organs are usually very thick. I think they’re the ones who invented the word chode. The penis tends to be girthy and also has a pretty good length to it, and they definitely know how to work it.

Sagittarius rising men: in my experience? These guys are some fucking heartthrobs! I hate to say it but man they are so rugged and masculine you can’t help but love their boyish nature. They are definitely obnoxious, loud and ridiculously dense when it comes to reading the room. What makes them so hot though is how reckless they are with all things. They don’t give a shit. Sexually though? Emotions run HIGH they tend to be very drawn to feminine energy. A lot of guys like this adore feminity in all forms be it in men or women. If you have that feminine glow to you, they’ll eat you up. They tend to have a strong desire to impregnate and the idea of being connected and having that sort of emotional receptivity with the person their fucking drives them wild. They are very intense sexually and can be very overwhelming the first few times mainly because adjusting to them is impossible, you never know what emotional spectrum you’ll get. Their sexual organs aren’t that big, sometimes they can be girthy but most times long and or average size tends to be what I see more. Are they good at using it? Yeah, you’ll fall asleep right after trust me.

Capricorn rising men: in my experience? They are very unassuming. They are so fucking calm, so fucking unmoved and so fucking ahead of you every time. They don’t rush things and can really make you feel so comfortable with how respectful and real they are. They have a very boy next door or upstairs neighbor vibe to them. Sleeping with them feels naughty sometimes other times it feels like it was a long build up. Sexually they are exhibitionist. They definitely will fill the hell out of you with their more modest persona at first. They want to enjoy all parts of your body but they also want the show to be about them. They want to hear you want them, how good they make you feel, they want it to feel like a performance where the crowd is watching. And dare I say they are constantly mastering their art, sex gets better and better and better with them. There’s never a dull moment and every time they have sex with you it gets more personal, more intense, more all consuming. They have a high libido and they are practically insatiable. They are selfish but I will say this, if you can’t get them off they definitely will do it themselves. Their sexual organs are often brighter than the other parts of their body. Very pretty too look at and also a bit on the hairy side.

Aquarius rising men: In my experience? They can seem really standoffish and for a good reason. They tend not to like ignorance and the more they see you trying hard to relate to them the less they’ll acknowledge you. They like the idea of someone who is down for them but not the idea of someone who is groveling, don’t and I mean don’t by any means act like a fan. They tend to run hot and cold for ever even if they like you. Sexually they can be meticulously planning the whole thing. The meet up, the positions, the foreplay all of it. They tend to need warnining or to know both parties had time to clean up. They’re not ones for sex on the fly or random sex as it can lead to a lot of unnecessary accidents. They’re attentive and very much the types to make you feel like you’re clay and you’re being sculpted into something magnificent. Their amazing at sex, they are like gallileo, or Mozart when it comes to the act. They move around your body like a serpent, then a leaf in the wind, than rain touching your skin. They are more focused on your pleasure than theirs so orgasms/reaching climax can be tough for them. The sexual organs are pretty small or average in most cases. If mars/Jupiter or Neptune/Uranus is there that augments things.

Pisces rising men: In my experience? They are definitely ass men. Everything revolves around booty. They are definitely soft and very sweet, but they have a sweetness to them that is fake. The real them is far more serious and self aware then they give off. They know what they’re doing and they know what you’re doing, so don’t ever be fooled by the veil they put up. They’re incredible receptive and sensitive and a lot of their internal feelings come out at some point just not at the moment it needs to. Sexually they can very hotel sex types. Like I don’t know how to really explain it and it’s so opposite of what you would expect of libra but they are very impersonal people. Like sex can feel very romantic and as if they are treating you like a significant other but something about it is detached, far away and unavailable. They are good at creating the engagement aspect of sex but can fall short at the emotional part which is semi-strange considering what you’ll get up to that point. They are very experienced but at the same time they may need to be taught to connect a little deeper or to open up more. They have very soft and gentle sexual styles that will still make you feel cared for but sometimes in the back of it all you’ll still feel that “I’m fucking a stranger” vibe. Their sexual organs tend to be very beautiful, nice length and nice width. They’ll definitely be a lot better at the sex part once you guys are committed though.

So obviously this is a general word of mouth and does not take into account planets being in the 8th house nor does it mention decans which can greatly alter much of what I’ve said. And honestly you can apply the decan rule here if you’d like! Simply use the decan lord so if they’re a third decan Virgo rising and have Aries in the third decan in their 8th house which is Aries/Sagittarius: you would mix those interpretations. Anyways hope this helps love.

#mine #8th house #sex astrology

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knchins · 4 years ago

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The Sacrificial Lamb - Chisaki Kai

Summary: The Vampire Chisaki has been searching everywhere for the one, but when he finally finds her she is taken by the League of Villains. He strikes a deal with them in order to get her back.

Pairing: Vampire!Overhaul x Fem!Human!Reader

Rating: E+

Word Count: 6.7k

Server Collab: BNHAREM - Fantasy AU

Warnings: Virgin/Virginity Kink, Blood, Extreme Dubcon, Mysophobia, Kidnapping, Implied Sexual Slavery, Noncon Choking, Biting, Pelvic Examination, Virginity Testing, Mentioned Necrophilia, Marking, Bondage/Restraints, Hair Pulling, Condom Usage, Overstimulation, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Mild Aftercare

Notes: Please heed the warnings listed above. I classify this as a dark fic and want readers to take care while reading. <3 My first ever collab with this server and I’m super hype about it! I hope you enjoy!

All over the world, over the past few decades, vampirism had spread across the land like a rampant disease. Once mortal humans were turned into eternal monsters with powers unique only to their kind. The media tended to call them quirks, hoping that a lighthearted term would quell the fear of what the gifts truly were. An abomination, a curse among mankind, and weapons of mass destruction.

Of course, there were a select few (really, a rare few these days) that used their vampirism for good. They fed only on donated blood, vowed never to take human life, and even protected mortals against others of their kind that were not as righteous as they were. Truly it was a world made up of heroes, villains, and powerless bystanders that were often victims.

In relation to eternity, Chisaki Kai was rather young. He had only spent his life as a gifted fanged menace for about two decades now, but that didn’t make things any easier. Chisaki has had mysophobia for as long as he could remember. It plagued him as a human long before he was turned by the former leader of the Shie Hassaikai.

Vampirism had always been nothing but a curse to him. While it was true that his quirk was extremely powerful and was capable of great destruction, the fact that he had to drink blood in order to survive was pure hell. The only blood he could bring himself to consume was that of young virgins, those who had never been tainted with drugs, alcohol, or even sex.

Members of Shie Hassaikai would kidnap victims for him, but Kai would never feed on them outright. No, touching their commoner skin with his mouth just seemed completely out of the question. He very rarely sank his teeth into anyone. Instead he’d keep them captive, draining a few pints every few weeks until eventually bleeding them dry when he grew bored of them.

The blood would be stored and consumed as needed by their leader, a small portion of it would be meshed with grapes and fermented into wine. A delicacy that many vampires enjoyed and was graded on both the source and taste. Naturally he only drank that of the highest grade as that ensured there were few (if any) impurities.

The issue Chisaki was starting to face however was that his food source was dwindling. In this day and age it was difficult to find people that haven't spent time poisoning their bodies. Everyone seemed to enjoy living in filth and he really just did not understand. He was half tempted to start breeding his own livestock to drain, but that would just be too costly at this point. The organization was struggling to get back on top, and while he was a fearsome and ruthless leader, there were still connections that needed to be made.

As of now he had a...tentative (but tumultuous) relationship with a group of vampires that liked to call themselves the League of Villains. The leader, Shigaraki Tomura, wanted to be equal to Kai however Kai felt that he was equal to no one. He was above all of them, his power to destroy or create on a whim was better than anyone quirk that the league could offer. Negotiations were still being made and every time they took one step forward, they seemed to take two steps back.

Shigaraki was about the same age as he was and he too was capable of mass destruction. If the two worked together, they could bring down all of Tokyo with ease. Perhaps this would help with Chisaki’s lack of food situation. With the entire city under his thumb he could easily create some sort of facility to house and breed the purest of humans. He’d no longer have to limit himself as he did now.

Presently he was waiting to hear back from his most faithful underling and assistant, Kurono. He was out looking for what would be Chisaki’s next meal, though it had been a few hours since he departed. When his phone began to chime, he half expected to hear that he had been unsuccessful in finding someone to suit his boss’s tastes. However, it was quite the opposite.

“I have found a girl you would no doubt enjoy.” Kurono said in a cold tone that portrayed no noticeable emotion. “However, there is a situation.”

Chisaki was almost always cool headed. He very rarely lost his temper, though when he did it could be quite murderous. “What is it?” He asked monotonously.

“The League of Villains has taken her for themselves.” He said, and while true he could just find someone else. He had a feeling that his boss would particularly love the sweet little thing he had found. “I believe she may be the one.”

The One. Chisaki had been searching high and low for a delicate creature to treat as his live in blood source. One that he would control one hundred percent. What she ate, what she wore, when she slept. He had so many plans for this one woman, if she were to ever be found. Hearing that Kurono may have found the one and had lost her to none other than that foul Shigaraki was almost enough to boil his black blood. Almost.

“She’s pure?” He asked cryptically, though he knew that if she had been selected already then Kurono had already vetted that information himself. He heard his subordinate give him a quick affirmative. Chisaki let his thoughts process for a moment longer, “come back. I will call Tomura and see what he has to say for himself.”

Clearly this was a ploy to get Chisaki to formally align with him. That much was obvious. However without seeing the girl first it may as well be pointless. He’d need to look over her with a fine toothed comb to determine whether or not she was indeed the one he could make his blood bride or not. A human companion for him to divulge in at any time. If Kurono knew him as well as the thought he did, then he would be correct in thinking that she was special enough to keep around.

He ended the call with Kurono and looked for the number he had for the league of villains. He pressed it, letting the phone dial the numbers itself before waiting for an answer. A moment later, an annoying but familiar voice cut in. “Overhaul. I was wondering when you’d call.” There was clear devious intent that made Chisaki question again what he could possibly be up to. “I have something I think you’ll just love to sink your teeth into.”

Kai didn’t appreciate the joke. Shigaraki knew very well that Kai didn’t drink directly from humans. He drank blood through plastic straws because he didn’t even want his lips to touch it unless he wanted to break out in hives. “What do you want for her?” Kai asked, getting straight to the point. “I have plenty that you could have.”

It was true. Shigaraiki needed to bolster his numbers and with Kai’s help then he could easily achieve that goal.All he needed to supersede the arduous negotiations between them was a little leverage. Leverage Tomura now had in his possession. “You know what I want, Chisaki.” Shigaraki said in the smug voice that grated the yakuza leader’s last nerve.

But what Shigaraki wanted most was to have Chisaki and his gang of men to work under him. To have control over the small legion of vampires that was ruled by Chisaki’s hand. Of course, Kai could always agree to the negotiation and cut ties as soon as he had what he wanted (if she was indeed the one). Though there was no telling for sure of that now.

“I’ll need to inspect her first. Bring her to the compound for a thorough examination.” He instructed hoping that Shigaraki would at least agree to that. “Do not touch her with those filthy hands of yours until then. If you defile her then the deal will be off.”

Shigaraki tutted into the receiver of the phone, “So picky. You want to see this little wallflower so badly? Alright, I’ll bring her in an hour. Be ready for us then, would you? Maybe have some of the delicious blood wine of yours ready to celebrate our long awaited union. Until then I’ll have all of my people keep their roaming fingers to themselves. Does that sound like a suitable arrangement?”

Chisaki sat back in his chair. While Shigaraki couldn’t truly be trusted, he saw no other choice than to agree to this. “One hour. Don’t be late.” He hung up before the petulant man could say anything else, He let out a long sigh before standing. He had a lot of preparations to do before his visitors arrived.

An hour later, Chisaki had just picked out one of his finer bottles of wine when a subordinate brought in his guests. Shigaraki was alone with a girl bound in rope standing next to him. She had a cloth gag tied around her mouth to keep her from talking, something Chisaki thought was a little barbaric but it wasn’t that surprising given who her captor was.

Despite her bindings, he could already tell just how beautiful she was and more than that she smelled absolutely divine. Chisaki felt his mouth water, hunger panging in his stomach. This visceral reaction was incredibly rare for him. The urge to sink his fangs into the tender flesh of her delicate neck roared in his brain, yet he did his best to silence it. Outwardly his masked face remained the same, though his mouth twitched into an unseen smile.

He held his hand out, but Tomura hesitated before handing over the rope leash. “You break our deal then I’ll snap her pretty little neck. Got it?” He asked, putting a gloved hand on the back of her neck and squeezing lightly for emphasis. Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, already he knew that no one would ever be taking her away from him. Shigaraki just didn’t know who he was dealing with.

“If she passes the examination, then we will have a deal.” Chisaki reminded him, “if I find that she is unclean, then you can do what you wish with her. I do not care.” Though the words came out bitter and assured, deep down he knew that that was untrue. Something about her was so captivating already. He didn’t want to dwell on the possibility of her not being the one. Kurono had seemed so sure of himself when they spoke last.

The young yakuza leader led his potential pet into a back room that was made specifically for examining humans. He had it built shortly after he took over in order to sort out his cattle in any way he saw fit.

After ushering her inside, he cut on the harsh bright lights that nearly blinded her. Shigaraki chose to perch on a stool in the corner while Chisaki untied the ropes that bound the girl’s arms and then the gag. He let the thick braids fall unceremoniously to the floor, noticing how she shook with each brush of his fingertips. Scared already? Well, they always did taste better when they had adrenaline coursing through their veins.

“Take off your clothes and get on the table.” He ordered, watching her eyes dart to a table adorned with stirrups. It was similar to one you might find at a gynecologist's office. With much hesitation, his new subject began to disrobe. Her clothes puddled around her feet as she grew more and more embarrassed with each less layer covering her sensitive skin. An odd heat was pooling between her legs as she clenched her thighs together.

Chisaki was taken off guard by her arousal. He had been assured that she was a virgin, however if stipping down before two vampires was turning her on then certainly that wasn’t the case. Both he and Shigaraki could smell the slick that was accumulating within her folds. His sharp eyes cut to the snickering vampire in the corner who was nothing but amused by this turn of events.

After she finished undressing, she climbed up onto the steel table that had minimal cushioning. Chisaki changed his gloves out to a fresh pair, wanting to make sure that any dirt he found wasn’t something that had already been on the ones he had been wearing previously. A fresh slate was needed for this examination.

“Put your feet in the stirrups.” He said coldly, his doubts beginning to overwhelm him internally, though his face did not show it. Even if it did, the lower half was still obstructed by his black face mask. How could this girl possibly be the one if she enjoyed disrobing in front of two murderous vampires? Was she one of those that got off on fantasizing about creatures of the night? The thought disgusted him.

Her knees were shaking, causing the metal arms of the stirrups to rattle. Even curiouser she was this nervous while also being excited? What a peculiar creature indeed.

His eyes swept over her seemingly frail mortal body. There were no bruises, no cuts. There wasn’t even a scar on the flesh he could see. Hair was all neatly landscaped. Her outward appearance was up to par with his wishes, but it was time to check the inside of her to make sure.

Chisaki gently spread the moistened folds to see if that thin sliver of tissue was still intact. While true, it wasn’t uncommon for girls to rupture their hymen through activities other than sex, he still found it to be a great indicator. If it was torn then he would have to check another way.

To the vampire’s pleasure, there was the tiny half moon membrane just a centimeter into the vaginal canal. This was all he needed to see in order to believe that she was, in fact, a virgin and that he wouldn’t need to probe any further in order to find any inconsistencies that disputed that fact.

He delicately checked over the rest of her sex, searching for any indication that she wasn’t as pure as she seemed to be. Again he was thoroughly pleased to find none. He took a step away from her, walking around the table to closer examine her nude form. His sharp eyes moved over every last inch of visible skin, trying to detect any kind of abnormal marking or sign of dirt or grime.

The stirrups were still rattling with the tremors of her lower limbs, a tinny sound that bounced off the walls of the small room. Her eyes were shut tightly, afraid to look at the man looming over her. What the two villains in the room didn’t know was that she had been saving herself specifically for this sort of situation. Since she came of age she longed to be some vampire’s little fuck toy to use and abuse. Despite her pure body, her mind was anything but. Upon learning of the League of Villain’s intentions with her, she hadn’t been able to stop the grotesquely loud thumping of her heart within her chest.

She didn’t know exactly who the vampire they referred to as Overhaul was, but she could tell that he was especially gifted and powerful. The way he commanded a room was enough to make her weak in the knees. She kept herself meticulously well kept and it seemed as though all her work had been for something much greater than she could have ever anticipated.

“Put your legs down and roll over.” He ordered in that monotonous and apathetic voice that only made her shutter even more. She obliged, removing her feet from the pads of the stirrups and rolling onto her stomach after scooting back up onto the steel table a little more so that she could be more comfortable.

Shigaraki was watching with mild intrigue. He had never seen Chisaki look over a potential meal before. It was quite entertaining how thought out his observations appeared to be.

He inspected the areas that he could not see before, again finding nothing out of the ordinary. He even inspected her hair, looking for any signs of lice or debris. Nothing. Every item on the list within his mind checked off one by one. She was intact. She was clean. She was pure. And she would be his and his alone.

Chisaki left her side to order an underling to bring him a fresh clean robe for her to wear. In the corner of the room was a glass shower that he instructed her to go to in order for her to scrub herself down even further. He assured her that when she was finished he would have something for her to put on and to not worry about the rags she had been wearing.

After she had stepped into the clear shower and began to wash as per his instructions, Chisaki made his way to a nearby sink. He removed the gloves that had been soiled with her arousal and threw them in the bin to his right before scrubbing his hands clean and putting on a new pair. Once he was finished he made his way back to Shigaraki. “We have a deal.” He said plainly, not wanting to show how very important this girl was to him now. If he let on how great of a find this truly was, then there was no telling what his adversary would ask for in return. So far the exchange they had worked out was simple enough. He didn’t need for it to become any more complicated.

He couldn’t see the twisted grin on Shigaraki’s face due to the false hand mask obscuring it, however he could tell that it was there simply due to the way the seated man’s eyes creased with sick glee. “Let us toast to this new alliance then.” Shigaraki drawled as he stood from the wooden stool he had been sitting on.

Kurono stepped in to deal with the little lamb that was his boss’s new plaything as the two leaders left for the kitchen where Chisaki had prepped the dry blood wine. A servant poured them both a glass of the viscous burgundy liquid before handing it to them with a slight bow.

Both men removed the masks they were wearing, through they stood a good six feet apart. Chisaki was not about to breath in whatever sin Shigaraki exhaled. It was the first time Tomura had seen his full face and immediately thought that he looked even younger than he was. He waited for Chisaki to drink the wine first to make sure it hadn’t been tainted.

Chisaki took the first sip with an apathetic look on his face. Only once he had swallowed did Shigaraki follow suit. Both of them revelled in the bitter and metallic taste. Only once the glasses were half empty was a word spoken. “We will be making our next move soon.” Shigaraki said, “make sure you and your men are ready for my command.”

“Don’t worry about us not being ready.” He replied simply, “we are always prepared for anything.”

Shigaraki chose not to comment, knowing that there was an allusion to his own gang’s sometimes lack of preparedness. It could be hard controlling a group of particularly talented vampires. While he too had great power and they did listen to him, some of his subordinates could get out of control at times.

He threw back the rest of his wine, letting it flood his senses for a moment as it ran down his throat. He replaced the white hand over his face before standing. “And Chisaki, do not forget my warning. If you do not hold up your end of the bargain, then that delicious specimen will be all mine and your dick won’t be the only one that has been buried into that cute little cunt of hers.”

Chisaki finished his own glass before slipping the black cloth back over his mouth and nose. His eyes were fixated on his new partner, clearly irate to the thought of someone else having his new most beloved pet. He said nothing, letting his gaze say it all as Shigaraki took his leave finally, wanting to get out before his welcome was possibly overstayed. They’d talk more about the future of their alliance later. Now it was time for Chisaki to see just how great of a gift had just been bestowed upon him.

By now she was finished with her shower and Kurono had showed her to her new living quarters where she had been locked inside. Inside it looked similar to a medium sized hotel room. She had her own private bathroom, a closet full of clothes that certainly weren’t hers before but would be hers from now on. A full bed that was made with soft sheets and a thick duvet. The only thing she would have liked was a window, however there was nothing to suggest that she was even on the ground floor. It was much more plausible that she had been taken underground instead.

She was wearing nothing but a silk robe and the man who had brought her here had told her not to put anything on that his boss would be there in a moment. She took a seat on the foot of the bed, wondering if this was to be her life from now on. A slave to a vampire. Would it be everything she had ever dreamed of? If it wasn’t...would there be any way to escape? She had a sickening feeling that her fate was sealed either way. She could either please her new master or die at his hands. There were no other alternatives.

Being a living blood bag was not a conventional kink to say the least. Maybe it would be enough to keep her alive in this turbulent world.

The door opened and the leader of the Shie Hassaikai walked into the room, closing it behind her. His golden olive-toned eyes were fixated onto her, a thin inhale caused the black cloth mask to momentarily press against his nostrils. Hunger throbbed in his stomach and he felt himself aching to do something that he never dreamt of doing. Saliva pooled into his mouth as his gaze fixated on the untouched skin of her neck. He could see her pulse fluttering in her jugular, strong and healthy.

He was pleased to find her in the white robe he had chosen for her. An obvious symbol of what she was to him. The sacrificial lamb. Fuck, he’d drain every lost drop of that sweet innocent life force without a second thought. Sure he had come to make her his but his sudden need to feed was definitely making that difficult. Of course he could still do that even if she were dead. Though a compliant corpse wasn’t quite as much fun.

He shrugged off his green jacket, setting it on the back of a nearby chair. “What is your name?” He asked, though he already had the intent of giving her a new name already. He still wanted to know what it was.

She told it to him, voice wavering with anticipation. Was tonight the night she’d finally experience sex for the first time? The thought alone had her gushing again and the smell caused Chisaki to quirk an eyebrow with curiosity. He had only asked her her name, why did that make her so aroused?

He loosened his tie before taking it off completely, “Take off your robe.” He ordered as he stepped closer to the bed. She stood up and untied it from around her waist, letting it fall open before she shrugged it off of her shoulders. The white silk fell to the floor and immediately her hands moved to cross over her exposed chest in order to attempt some form of modesty. Even though he had already stripped her and examined her most intimate parts, it was still awkward to simply be nude in front of her new master. She did have some morals afterall.

Chisaki grabbed her arms and unfolded them before forcing them behind her back. He wrapped the fabric of his tie around her wrists tightly before weaving a knot into the bindings to keep her from getting out of it. Her shoulders pulled to accommodate the new position, causing her chest to lift and breasts to bounce in protest of his sudden and rough movements.

He observed the wince of pain that crossed her face and the look caused his cock to twitch inside of his pants, begging to be freed. “If you struggle too much, Angel, it’s only going to hurt you more in the long run.” He said, voice edged with a thinly veiled threat. She immediately stopped pulling at the tie and became still before him, eyes too afraid to look at his face as she felt the skin of her cheeks heat painfully with embarrassment.

He took off his shirt and unbuckled his belt, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to wrap it around her fragile throat. If he did so then he’d been obscured from possibly savoring it for himself, though the thought of that caused a sudden wave of nausea. His stomach urged him to tear open the flesh of her jugular while his brain protested at the mess it would make.

Chisaki decided to remove the black mask from his face and placed it on a nearby table where it would not get soiled. He heard her inhale sharply at the sight of his unblocked face. He was much more handsome than she had originally thought, and while all vampires had some denotation of enhanced beauty, his was truly magnificent.

His mouth opened and she saw the glinting white fangs inside of it. Both the canines and lateral incisors were pointed sharp, though the later was a fraction shorter than the other. Truly he could reduce her into nothing in seconds if he wanted to, all with the quick use of his dangerous mouth. She couldn’t help another wave of slick from coating her sex at the thought of what all he could do with it.

He didn’t bother to take off his pants just yet as he leaned in to gently sniff the flesh of her throat right above the pulse point. She felt a droplet of something wet hit her collarbone and instantly she knew it was saliva.

“P-Please,” She stuttered for him, “bite me.” She practically moaned the order and he growled at the distastefulness of it. He didn’t want her so willing. Not for the first time. He wanted this to hurt. She heard the small hiss that came out from between his teeth, felt the small puff of air against her neck. Instantly she knew she had made a mistake as his gloved hand wrapped around her throat and began to squeeze.

She gasped for air, typing to break free from her ties once more but was unsuccessful once again. Her vision blurred around the edges, dark black spots blobbing before her eyes randomly as she struggled for air. Now this was a sight for sore eyes, Chisaki thought. He could easily see the life in her eyes fighting to stay lit. If he held his grip for a few more minutes then she’d lose consciousness completely. Even longer and she’d die.

He released his hold on her suddenly and she inhaled sharply and painfully. Her lungs expanded fully as she gulped in the clean crisp air of the room. The vampire watched her closely, looking for any sign of long lasting damage. He didn’t even need to command her to not say another word. She got the point loud and clear by his actions alone.

It was then that he decided that it was better off if he marked her as his own. While it wasn’t a very common practice (his cattle literally got branded with an iron in the shape of the family’s crest), it was something that vampires did to protect humans that they were particularly fond of. While fondness wasn’t the right choice of words here, he did want it to be known that she was for him and him only.

The best part is that it would hurt. He wanted it to hurt, through fear he could have complete subordination. He wanted a helpless lamb, not a conniving wolf. The only downside was that it would require him to bite her. Though truthfully he could use his quirk to do it, he knew it wouldn’t have quite the same effect.

Without warning, Kai suddenly sank his teeth into her shoulder, around her right collarbone. His sharpened fangs easily tore through the soft flesh, sweet rich blood pouring into his mouth as she let out the most deliciously pained cry. She tried to shy away from him, tried to get him off, but his hold was vice.

Pain ripped through her entire body, not just her shoulder. Some sort of dark magic was pulling at her skin, making it hot with fever. Her forehead broke out into a sweat as large tears rolled down her cheeks and onto her neck. She had never known such pain before and she thought she may pass out at any moment.

He was pulling the blood from her, making her feel lightheaded and almost weightless. The taste was almost too much for him. The thought of just taking every last drop flooding into his mind at such an alarming rate that he was almost unable to stop himself from pulling away at last. Her eyes connected with his bloody mouth, a thick trail of blood seeping down his chin and dripping down onto her bare chest.

Unfortunately for her he could not use his healing quirk on this particular wound. He needed it to heal naturally in order for the mark to leave a scar. If he healed it completely then it would be all for naught.

He quickly disappeared into the private bathroom and scrubbed his face and lips clean, though wasting even a drop of her blood made him rage. The good thing about humans was that they could produce more. It wasn’t a finite source. He had to remind himself of that as he willed the hives that had crept up his neck to disappear. Nausea turned his newly full stomach. A glance in the mirror at his now clean face caused the urge to vomit to recede. He grabbed a hand towel and some medical supplies. He had to take good care of his little lamb if he wanted her to last.

Once back in the bedroom he began to clean the wound. Thankfully the blood hadn’t made it to the bedspread. He cleaned the wound with a surprising amount of gentleness, being sure not to hurt her as he bandaged it up with gauze and medical tape. Once the square of white material was firmly in place he took off his clothes and retreated back into the bathroom to wash his hands.

After drying them he returned into the bedroom to see her looking at him, her legs quaking beneath her shuddering frame. “Lay down on your stomach,” He said monotonously, watching as she struggled to get onto the bed without the use of her arms and lay down for him. Chisaki put on a new pair of gloves and grabbed a condom from the box that had been placed in the room. They had been specially made to hold up during the certain amount of zeal he tended to have in the bedroom, though he rarely found a specimen good enough for his tastes. Typically after he soiled them he discarded them, but this time would be different. Now she was marked, the skin of her shoulder still burning with pain.

Chisaki dropped his pants and underwear, watching her thighs continue to shake. “Up on your knees.” He instructed and she did just that, keeping her chest on the mattress with her arms tied behind her back. The view was absolutely magnificent. Her wet folds now on display for him, the tiny whines that came from her throat. How could a virgin be so fucking needy? He didn’t know and didn’t care, somehow her being more willing than he expected was a good thing. Going in dry could be painful and he detested the stickiness of lube.

He rolled the condom onto his hard cock, a thrill tingling up his spine at the thought of what he was about to do. He’d fix her up nice and good after working her over. Even if she was aroused, this was still going to hurt.

He positioned his tip at her entrance, looking over her shuddering form. Honestly he had never seen such a beautiful site before. All the virgins he’d taken before were nothing like this one. He kept one gloved hand on her lower back while his other guided his twitching member into her.

He wasn’t slow or gentle. In fact, he pushed his way in with brute force, knowing that it would be ripping that delicate hymen of hers. He could smell the blood spilling onto the bed and once more his mouth filled with saliva. His little lamb cried out in pain because there was no pleasure to be had here yet. It was much too soon for that.

Chisaki held back a curse at how tight she was, her pussy clamping down on his cock in a vice grip that had him wanting to blow his load already. He did allow her a moment to adjust to the new feeling of him stretching her out, though it wasn’t long before he dragged himself out and slammed back into her once more.

Another cry of pain, she wanted to beg him to stop and give her time. Let her get acclimated more before he moved, but she feared what kind of punishment she might receive for such an outburst. Her cries though were music to his ears and he wouldn’t let up, not when he could hear that precious sound over and over again.

The pain didn’t last forever. Not like she had feared it might. Which each powerful thrust it dulled more and more, until her screams of agony became moans of pleasure. Chisaki wasn’t sure which he liked more, they were both so sweet in their own way. Feeling her body relax, her walls loosening ever so slightly so that it was easier for him to move, did make the act much more enjoyable. He could increase his pace, pounding into her with relentless force that had her toes curling with delight.

She felt an odd pressurized sensation welling in the pit of her abdomen. It was so foreign and tense that she was at first worried something may be wrong with her. Chisaki grabbed a fistfull of her hair and yanked it backwards, pain searing into her scalp as her walls tightened around him enough to make him let out a groan.

He pulled her upwards more by her locks, making it so he was entering her at a new angle, one that had her feeling dizzy with ecstasy. The coil tightened even more and she felt like she was going to shatter into pieces if he didn’t stop. One more good thrust and it snapped completely, her first orgasm blossoming and overtaking her in waves. Her already dripping cunt flooded around him and the feeling of her juices on his upper thighs had him breaking out all over again.

Chisaki let out a grunt at the feeling of her coming undone around him. Her walls pulsating and fluttering had him unable to hold back as he hit his peak. His thrusts became incredibly shallow and without rhythm as he pumped white cum into the latex condom.

He released his hold on her hair, making her fall forward onto her face. She was in too much of a state of bliss to move as she caught her breath. He slowly pulled out of her, allowing her hips to fall onto the bed next. He observed the mix of blood and cum that dripped down her legs and onto the bedspread. Again the sight and smell of the ruby liquid was too much for him to hold back from. Besides, his little angel did so good for him. She deserved a little treat too for taking his dick so well for the first time.

He untied the tie in order to give her shoulders a break, though they hung limply as she was still dazed from the ordeal. He gently guided her to roll over onto her back, letting her get into a comfortable position as he moved his face between her legs. His nose was practically inside her as he inhaled her natural perfume, his tongue licking at the droplets of blood on her lips. His little lamb shuddered, too tired to make any sort of noise. She was still so incredibly sensitive that his probing tongue had tears leaking from her eyes.

Chisaki devoured every drop of spilled blood that hadn’t made it to the duvet. Tiny nips of his teeth over her femoral artery had a new wave of arousal building within her. She had no idea that she could feel so much at once. It was maddening already and only became worse when his mouth latched onto her engorged clit suddenly and sucked powerfully.

She let out a weak cry of protest, the overstimulation simply too much. How could someone want something and not want it so much at the same time? There was an ache between her legs from how much he had stretched out her innocent little hole and now his tongue swirling around her clit had her seeing stars.

Unable to stop herself, she rutted her hips against him, whimpering through her tears as his eyes snapped up to watch her squirm. Two gloved fingers snaked their way into her pussy, curling with her natural curve before coming back out. He repeated the process, forming a speedy rhythm of fingers and tongue until she was screaming for more. More, more, please, and she was cumming again in no time at all.

Chisaki removed himself from her, disappearing into the bathroom to clean up his face and take off his soiled gloves and condom. He washed his hands and penis though the hives were still taking over the edges of his face. He’d have to take a full on shower after he was done cleaning her up.

He came back out with a warm wet towel and a dry one. First he placed a hand on her belly, using his quirk to heal her lower half so that she would no longer be in any pain. He also took the time to repair her hymen so he could deflower her all over again sometime soon.

Her heavy breathing slowed as the pain dissipated. Though exhaustion was setting in, his delicate healing touch had her feeling warm. He wiped her clean, drying her off before discarding the dirty towels. “Can you sit up, Angel?” He asked in a soft voice that she had no idea he was even capable of. “I need to replace the duvet.”

She nodded, scrambling to the head of the bed so that he could pull the bloody blanket out from under her. “Get under the sheets.” He said, though it was an order it didn’t sound as cold as his previous orders had. She managed to get under the silken sheets, eyes growing heavy as she rested her head on the pillow. She had been too scared to sleep since she’d been captured by the other gang of vampires. Now the events of the day were making it very difficult to keep her eyes open.

Chisaki grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and put it over her so that she would not be cold. He observed her tired, frail face. “Sleep, little lamb. I’ll have food waiting for you when you wake.”

She didn’t even have the energy to nod, simply falling into a much needed state of slumber before he could say anything else. As he observed her, Chisaki couldn’t help but think to himself that Kurono had been right. She was definitely the one.

Mobile Masterlist || Request Rules || Collab Masterlist

Tag List: @dabi-hates-fish, @hawksward

#allygoesdark #overhaul #bnha #chisaki kai #overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul smut #chisaki smut #kai chisaki #bnha smut #bnha imagine #overhaul imagine #dubcontw #chisaki imagine #overhaul x you #chisaki x reader #bnharem collab #mha

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lesbian-kyoru · 4 years ago

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What is your opinion on kyoru's physical intimacy? I'm seeing two pretty distinct camps at least in the fanfic community: that they took forever to get there (like until they moved to their own place) or that they started out in Shigure's house. And I've also noticed a lot of people infantalising Tohru to the point where she's a completely non-sexual being, even though she ended up married with 3 kids?

ahhh hello! okay great question, and related to something i actually went off about in this post lol.

to reiterate a bit, i don’t really have a problem with kyo and tohru waiting until they move out to start an intimate relationship. like that’s not my personal hc, but i don’t hate that idea and i don’t think it’s Incorrect to hc that they’d wait to move out first (i’ve read some truly lovely fics that use exactly that concept without making a weird big deal out of it, and they use it extremely effectively and in an in-character way). like, i see it, it’s valid! and that’s fine. what i talked about in my earlier post, though, is that i think the hc that they waited FOREVER to start having sex, that they specifically waited until marriage due to shame/embarrassment, or that they like, only have sex to have kids and not because they just want to/”only have sex three times to have three kids” lmao, isn’t the best take—just because i think it stems a lot from toxic purity culture and the thought that kyo and tohru are too cute or pure or wholesome to also want a sexual relationship.

so to answer your question about their physical intimacy: my thoughts on it are shaped a lot by their physicality that we see in canon!! in that, they’re suuuuuper touchy with each other. kyo, in particular, definitely expresses affection primarily through touch—holding hands, headbonks, hugging even though it makes him transform… like kyo is really touch starved lmao. tohru is less forward in initiating touch—i think it just doesn’t come as naturally to her vs other forms of affection—but she’s always receptive when kyo touches her. and that’s before they even start dating—in the last few chapters once they’re in a relationship, they’re again very touchy with each other (with tohru initiating, too). so i think that that would translate very naturally to their sexual relationship. that is, i think they’d be very comfortable with it and that it becomes a big part of how they express their love.

on the one hand, kyo is the more physically expressive of the two, but i think his fear of harming tohru and general self-hatred that he’s still trying to get over post-curse might make him more hesitant to take that step with tohru. he wouldn’t avoid sex like the plague, but rather i think he’d need pretty consistent reassurance from tohru at first that she really wants to, that he’s not hurting her, etc. and then with tohru, she’s less physical than kyo, so i could see her being a bit more unsure of how to get the ball rolling… but also tohru is obviously very determined! and stubborn! so after they start dating and she feels comfortable being more intimate with him (which, like i said, i think happens pretty quickly), i think tohru absolutely wants to take that step, and i don’t think she’s afraid of telling kyo what she wants.

i honestly fall more into the “they had sex while they’re still at shigure’s” camp. i mean… they’ve had rampant sexual tension between them for a solid year… after endless yearning and drama, they finally get to be together… the curse is gone so there’s nothing keeping them apart physically… they’re madly in love and “clingy” with each other… they live under the same roof, across the hall from each other… yeah lmao. given all of that, combined with how tactile they naturally are with each other already, i just don’t see them waiting very long to become more physically intimate. and tbh the reasoning of “oh they’d wait because they wouldn’t want shigure to know” doesn’t really ring true for me because, since when does shigure even go upstairs? and does he usually barge into tohru’s room in the middle of the night? and re: yuki sharing a wall with tohru, i’ll be dead serious. i’m not sure they are thinking far enough ahead to consider yuki being next door. which is terribly unfortunate for yuki alksdflaksj but i don’t think it’s out-of-character for kyo and tohru LMAO. again, i think these things would be an aspect of navigating their sexual relationship, but i don’t think it stops them altogether from having one before they move out.

now wrt people infantilizing tohru, i really don’t like that take (preface again: this isn’t about hc’ing her or kyo as ace or anything along those lines.). not only do i think it’s unfortunate to write tohru as this completely non-sexual being because it’s tied into, again, a woman’s purity being based on whether she has sex or not—i also think it just doesn’t make sense for her character. sure, tohru is an airhead, doesn’t have prior relationship experience, etc., but people seem to forget that not only was her mom in a gang, she was literally a teen mom. tohru was 15/16ish when her mom died—and people really think kyoko never had The Talk with her? hello?? so yes i definitely think tohru knows what sex is LOL, and i think she has pretty normal sexual desires typical of a teenager/young adult. and because she had Excellent Sex Ed, i really don’t think she’d be averse to acting on those feelings once she falls in love with kyo and starts dating him. also, i know we all meme’d on tohru for this but like.... the comment about kyo’s hands getting bigger... like. i’m SORRY but what do people think that MEANS if it’s not tohru thirsting over kyo and his hands ajlksdhlksdh but ANYWAYS....

SO in conclusion, my takes: physical intimacy is definitely big for kyoru, and i don’t think it took them a ton of time before they started exploring that part of their relationship. they had insecurities and hang ups to work through like any other couple, but taking that step was ultimately very natural and comfortable for them! they’re awkward nerds in love and they also have sex and those things don’t contradict each other. :’)) and also uhhhhh if they had three kids they definitely had sex more than three times. like. a lot more than three times LMAO.

#ty for the ask!! i cannot believe that This is the hill i die on in this fandom but here we are!#fruits basket #kyoru #tohru honda #kyo sohma #fruits basket spoilers #fruits basket meta #long post #ask #anon #zoe.txt

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possibilistfanfiction · 3 years ago

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same english football fan here! ty for your answer - v rare that i get to talk with someone who both enjoys football and cares to engage with the context of wider issues in & around the game… i relish the opportunity lol

100% agree about the impact of ‘99 team. i’d say it bled out beyond creating this stagnant image of what the uswnt ‘should’ look like into football more generally. i grew up playing & ‘lesbian’ was one of the worst insults on the pitch - you could see people actively leaning into this hyper-feminine presentation to avoid it (like with tobin…). definitely fucked with my little gay brain, a sport i love subconsciously teaching me i was an insult…

i don’t enjoy alex as a player. at all. some set ups definitely need the player to draw fouls, slow it down etc but i don’t think she’s good enough outside of that? (espec not if you’re going to sideline christen lol) idk comparing her to someone like grealish in eng men - can play a false 9, drawing fouls is a major part of his game but he’s almost stupidly creative on & off the ball. lbr alex’s face fit for the old guard scared of changing dynamics & it’s perhaps kept her more centralised than her talents deserve? (i’m also a bit bitter at her 6 month training holiday at spurs as a former spurs player lol)

could spend pages on christen. watching her play for man utd was a delight - the shift she puts in off the ball, can tell she is someone who gets the game on a fundamental level and reads patterns, not just good w the ball at her feet. agh, so much of your response i haven’t even mentioned - i may return for more football chat lol

first of all i would be remiss to not be like holy shit congrats on playing w spurs?? badass !!

also yah i think that their impact changed women's football in general for sure, but also women's sport more broadly & even just body image for DFAB ppl in general. that sounds like a rly wild claim but i think if we look at diet culture & how the "ideal body type" for women rly started to become a little more "athletic" in the early 90s (e.g., britney spears!) it's impossible to look past brandi chastain's iconic image. & its odd bc that actually has nothing to do with the uswnt itself but it was at the time of this rampant like low-fat, low-carb diet culture rise (i'm sure we all remember the horrifying 100 calorie packs). i think about this, like, every day lol like it’s ok to perform some kind of masculinity (eg sport, muscles, streetwear etc) as long as ur thin, white, wealthy, family-oriented, patriotic, christian, able-bodied, neurotypical, straight, etc etc. it’s just so anti-Black at its core in clear service of the state. i think of it in light of a radical fat politic now & especially during the olympics when its like becoming more & more clear that the surveillance of Black & brown queer femme bodies is more apparent in sport than ever ... the uswnt has this standard that is tied to class & performance & race & sexuality etc. anyway that's a lot but... i rly do think it's true

it's odd too, i think football afforded me the opportunity to perform or present androgyny in a way that my conservative christian family & community deemed okay bc i was just a "tomboy" or, the even more respectable, "an athlete." for me i found an incredible amount of quiet freedom on the field bc of that, even tho i couldn't name it at the time. as i got older i too leaned into trying to be feminine (like tobin) in a way that was just so horrifically dysphoric for me. tobin being a huge homo now is like... soothing lmao like yah babey me too!!

anyway abt football i too don't think alex is great. sure she's scored a lot of goals but like ........ she isn't a wonderful player? i don't love comparing women to men players just bc the game is different in (the best) ways for women but even comparing alex to sinc or viv like... she's boring at best? that's what i could say about her as a player lol. as a person i think she's a democrat so like white women approve of her but she's also so diluted in any opinion that conservatives think she's fine. which is also gross lol

(don’t get me started on how “equal pay” as a crusade without any discussion of a radical, intersectional politic misses the mark so terribly its not even on the same planet but ... )

cp puts on defensive shifts off the ball that are... absolutely nuts. watching her play is truly beautiful bc i don't think anyone in the world plays like her. she's so smart & sees like 20 plays ahead, her finishing is beyond. it's fun to watch her play with tobin honestly bc i think their vision & workrates are so similar but their styles of play are so different (in a fun way tbc lol). i wish we could know what 1v1 days look like at their house lol

anyway pls message me abt football et al anytime!! (if u wanna connect off anon lmk)

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erin-bo-berin · 5 years ago

Text

Wanna Be Bad

MASTERLIST

I’ll be honest, the idea for this fic came when I was listening to early 2000′s music from my childhood. This was inspired by the song I Wanna Be Bad by Willa Ford (hence why I titled it after the song). If you want to check out the song or listen to it while you read this (which I recommend) you can do so here. Gotta admit though that little 8 year old me had no idea what the ACTUAL meaning of the song was until much, much later. Anyway, this is a different format than I have written so far, cause I’ve included the lyrics in the story since different parts seem to actually describe what’s going on. The lyrics will be in italics between parts of the story. Hope you all enjoy!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: Mature (smut)

Word Count: 3,524

Do you understand

What I need, need from you?

Just let me be the girl

To show you, you

Everything that she can be

Is everything that I can be

Fucking Spencer Reid.

Spencer Reid; aka your FBI partner and the one man that you can’t get out of your mind.

He’d been your partner for over 3 years and extremely welcoming when you joined the Behavioral Analyst Unit of the FBI. At first, he wasn’t a problem and you were friendly.

Until it slowly dawned on you just how attracted you are to him. It had hit you like a bucket of ice water had been poured over your head. That shock was bad enough.

What was worse was the no fraternization between team members rule that came from the unit chief. She was friendly and a team player but it was something that she was strict about. It had never been a problem before, since the rest of the team’s significant others were not a part of the BAU, let alone worked in the FBI.

But here you were, with a growing attraction to him. It was a crappy situation knowing that your one sided sexual tension with him could never be acted upon simply because you knew Spencer was one to follow the rules.

My turn

Let me let you know that

I can’t promise that I won’t do that

So, boy say the time and place

Cause you make me want to misbehave

The things you would do the man.

The things you wish you could do to him.

Your eyes follow him, along with the other teammates. He’s currently explaining a geographical profile he’d worked on for a current case. You’re thankful that all eyes are on him because it disguises your own staring.

You can’t lie, your partner is drop dead gorgeous. Over 6 feet tall—coming in at approximately 6’1, he’s long and lean but with some definite muscle to him. He’s not scrawny like he once was, something the team likes to playfully tease him about, once showing you pictures of the decade younger Reid.

He’s also gotten even more attractive as he aged. Not that he wasn’t cute when he was younger, but he’s aging like a fine wine. At 38, he’s even better looking than you could fathom.

His brown locks that he always changes up is now on the longer side, his curls sometimes more wild, sometimes more tamed. You’ve imagined many times running your fingers through them.

His dark eyes are as much of a wild card as he is. At times appearing green, others looking like a rich brown. You’d guess they’re hazel but you’re not exactly sure. It’s not like you can bring that up into a random conversation without sounding totally crazy.

He sported more of an unshaven look these days. After many years of being clean shaven as a young FBI profiler—again, you’d seen plenty of pictures—he had quite the scruffy look going on. Needless to say, you were a big fan.

Now, his lips, something you’d fantasized about a lot. He had lips most women would envy, plump and quite the pale shade of pink. Sometimes they’d darken a shade when he bit down on them while he was thinking.

Speaking of, he had one of the best smiles you had probably ever seen on a man. One that was sure to get any woman’s lady bits roaring.

He kinda also had this habit of licking his lips. It was definitely something he wasn’t conscious of as he did it quite often. Whether it was while he was working, when he was thinking, before saying something, everytime it happened you could feel a desire form deep within you.

Oh, the things that tongue could potentially do.

But it didn’t stop with just looks with the good doctor.

His mind was probably the sexiest thing about him.

His brain was filled with an immense amount of knowledge. At first it had surprised you at just how attractive you found it, but you quickly learned that you loved to hear him share his facts and statistics. He truly was like no other.

Sometimes you purposely mixed up your facts just so he’d correct you.

And he would. Every single time.

It’s a shame he couldn’t talk smart between your legs.

Spencer Reid was definitely a wild card alright.

To be so smart, he was hard to figure out. He always seemed to be more reserved with you than the rest of the team members. You knew it could possibly be the case that he’d known them longer, but it always felt like he held himself back.

Your eyes followed his movements, his hands gesturing wildly at his display as he talked.

His hands were large, with long slender fingers, often used to mess with a pen or pencil absently, or to push his hair back out of his eyes. You didn’t have to explain the kinds of things you’d imagined regarding them.

Today, he was in a navy blue suit, a purple button down and a matching navy tie. He looked good. Not saying there wasn’t a time that he wasn’t, but there was something about today’s attire that was better than usual.

Purple really suited him, you thought.

It’s a shame (really, a damn shame) that you knew he would never break the rules because if he ever named the time and place...well let’s just say you wouldn’t turn him down in the least.

Maybe it was time to up your game a little.

I wanna be bad

You make bad look so good

I got things on my mind

I never thought I would

In any other situation you would’ve never thought about tempting fate and ignoring a rule made by your boss. You had sense enough to know it was a bad idea, but something about Spencer was so intoxicating, it was like you could never get enough. The desire burned through you constantly like a paper set aflame.

You told yourself it wasn’t a crime to look nice for work. You had a job where it was reasonable to be a bit more dressy and make yourself look nice. But deep down, you knew you wanted to test the limits.

You went to work one day dressed in a tight black fitting skirt, one that hugged your ass perfectly along with a turquoise button down, some cleavage purposely on show. Paired with a pair of your strappy black work heels, you were prepared to face the day.

Never in a million years did you imagine doing something like this, but here you were. Wild thoughts of Spencer ran rampant in your mind, even in the middle of cases to the point you had to try twice as hard to focus. Maybe it was time for him to have a taste of his own medicine.

It puzzled you for most of the day when he seemed to ignore you more than usual. You’d figured your attraction to him was one sided, but the change in his behavior hurt a bit, knowing he was only interacting with you when he absolutely had to. At the end of the day, he was still your partner.

It was only during a briefing later on, when you were actually entirely focused on work that you felt eyes on you. Your gaze cut across the table just in time to see Spencer’s eyes rake across you, licking his lips in the process. His eyes cut away quickly when his met yours and he grabbed for his cup of coffee taking a drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

He was definitely trying to appear as if he wasn’t just staring at you moments before.

A heat stirred within you as you’d realized what had just happened.

Something was brewing.

I, I wanna be bad

You make bad feel so good

I’m losing all my cool

I’m about to break the rules

I, I wanna be bad

The tension had begun, ironically, during a raid on a case you were working on.

After working surveillance with Spencer alone, you’d caught the perp in the act and called for backup immediately. SWAT was already ahead of you, waiting for instructions.

In efforts of a surprise takeover, you both were hidden in a cramped space to try and locate his current location before you sent SWAT inside.

His breath was hot on your neck and you were pressed against him, his chest flesh with your back, all while your ass was pressed against his crotch.

You didn’t miss his sharp intake of breath even though you pretended not to hear it.

Attempting to free yourself of the small space, you happened to brush across him, more specifically his crotch. His hand immediately flew to your hip, grabbing you a little harder than necessary. Your mind was whirling enough as it was at the close proximity.

“Not yet,” he whispered, low enough for you to hear, “SWAT’s about to go in.”

A moment later you both were on the move behind them, announcing that you were FBI. But you didn’t forget the moment that was now seared into your mind.

Spencer was definitely the only one you’d break the rules for.

I want to be bad with you, baby

•

What’s up?

Tell me what to do, how to be

Teach me

All your rules from A to Z

But I don’t want your other girl to see

That you’re messing ‘round with me

You and Spencer didn’t speak about the incident.

But suddenly, his rules had seemed to change.

When it was just the two of you, he actually seemed to flirt with you.

“You not tired yet?” he’d grinned, seeing you pick up more paperwork you’d need to complete before next week.

“Oh, but what if I said that this stack was all yours Spence?”

“Oof,” he mock grimaced, putting a hand dramatically over his heart, “Why do you wound me so?”

You chuckled, plopping it down on your desk, before sitting in your chair.

“Unfortunately, that pile is all mine.”

“Well maybe I can stay late to keep you company and watch you in your misery.” A smirk ghosted over his lips.

You bit your lip, watching him.

He was definitely flirting. Wasn’t he? But you could admit you were bantering more with him, returning his own flirty comments.

Only, that is, when no one else was around.

It wasn’t a secret that things like this had to be hidden from your unit chief. If she had caught wind or even a tiny bit of suspicion what was simmering between you both, you could possibly be in trouble.

“Oh please, don’t go out of your way to ruin your evening plans with my misery,” you deadpanned, even though he knew you were kidding.

“Let me know if you need anything. A pen, food, a shoulder to cry on.”

You peer sideways at him, half grinning.

“What was that last one?”

He points to his shoulder, a faux frown on his face before chuckling.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Should I boy?

Tell me what I got is what you want

Tell, tell me do I, I turn you on?

I don’t want no one judging me

You cannot believe that the team suggested you and Spencer being the ones to go undercover to catch your current unsub. Of all the places.

You were tracking an unsub that was currently killing exotic dancers; his hunting ground being a certain strip club which is where you were currently undercover as, you guessed it, one of the dancers.

Spencer, on the other hand, was dressed as one of the many rich gentleman in the audience, playing the part of another regular man come to see the show. You both had your eyes out on the floor in search of our current unsub.

“Y/N,” came from the hidden earpiece was your boss.

“Be as coy as possible, but refuse any activities with any of the other men. We want to see if that brings our unsub out. You tell them your client is Reid, got it?”

You groan inwardly. This was your worst nightmare due to the fact that your sexual tension was at an all time high with him. You’d rather not jump him with the whole team just outside.

As part of your undercover identity, Candi, you were dressed in a tasseled, silver one piece, cut all the way down your torso to show off your stomach, your boobs practically spilling out of the small swath of fabric covering them. There was just enough fabric to cover your nether regions and it all tied in the back with two thin strings. Basically, it left little to the imagination.

“Sweetheart, how about a little dance?” came from your left.

A distinguished looking gentleman, with white hair held out a twenty in your direction, a grin on his face.

“Sorry, already promised one to that gentleman,” you motioned to Spencer, who was in character, watching some of the other dancers, his eyes roaming the room before they landed on you.

“Gotta go,” you said, with a flirtatious smile.

The man shrugged and turned his attention to another girl.

You approached Spencer, trying to calm your nerves and keep in character. You put a hand on his shoulder flirtatiously and greet him.

“Hi there, big boy.”

You walk around to face him, hands resting on the back of his chair as you lean into him, pushing your ass outwards while pressing your breasts against his chest.

“How’s it going?” you mumble lowly in his ear.

Your hands trail over his shoulders as your hips sway back and forth in front of him.

“Nothing yet. I, um, I’ve been keeping an eye out.”

You nod, continuing on. You flip your hair as you turn, your ass grazing his crotch. Your hands glide up your legs as you turn to face him again, your touch moving up your stomach reaching your boobs, beginning to rub them sensually as you bite your lip. Your eyes lock on his as your hands slide up his thighs before you settle in his lap, his hands resting on your bare sides.

His eyes haven’t left you since you began and you see his teeth scrape his bottom lip momentarily.

“Anyone look suspicious?” you whisper, leaning forward as your hips grind slowly.

His breathing sounds heavier than before and he struggles to answer your question.

“One guy in the corner hasn’t taken his eyes off you.”

Your fingertips trail down his chest. Holding on to the edge of the chair, you lean backwards slowly, in an attempt to be tantalizing and sexy like you’ve seen the other girls do, but also to see the guy Spencer was referring to. You peer to the corner towards your left quickly and see what he’s talking about.

You hum your agreement and move upright, one arm raised above your head, your fingertips trailing down the opposite arm. His fingers dig into your hips as your hips circle above his crotch.

“Y/N,” he rasped.

It’s then that your thigh brushes his crotch that you can feel he’s hard. You inhale, your eyes widening the slightest as you look at him; his eyes haven’t left you.

Suddenly a voice fills your ear and you know Spencer heard it too.

“We got him!”

I wanna be bad

You make bad look so good

I got things on my mind

I never thought I would

After a clothes change, you were back in your normal clothes post undercover job. The heat still burned inside of you hours after what happened at the club.

You all, indeed, captured the right unsub. Apparently you had caught his eye since you were “new”. Looked like Spencer had been right.

Speaking of, he had practically disappeared after the team bust in to arrest him. You hadn’t seen him until you had gotten back to the BAU and even then he was across the room discussing a closing report with one of the other agents.

You bit your thumbnail as you paced the room. You couldn’t hold out any longer and you knew you had to do something. You were in an empty office down the hall from the BAU unit, knowing he’d be down the hall at any moment.

Mere minutes later you heard footsteps and you opened the door just enough to see him coming down the hall, looking at a file as he walked. You grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room, closing the door behind him.

His back was against the door and he looked down at you, a slight squint to his eyes, his tongue moving over his lips as he—as usual—licked his lips.

“I had to do something,” you said by way of explanation before grabbing him by his tie and pulling him down towards you.

I, I wanna be bad

You make bad feel so good

I’m losing all my cool

I’m about to break the rules

I, I wanna be bad

Your lips met his in a burning kiss. You heard a plop of the file as he tosses it carelessly on the floor before pulling you closer, his lips moving quickly with yours. His hands hooked behind your thighs and he hoisted you up, carrying you towards the empty desk in the room.

“Fuck, earlier,” he breathed, kissing down your jaw, “You drove me crazy.”

“I kinda sensed that,” you chuckled, “Sorry about that.”

He nips your jaw, bending lower to kiss your neck as he sets you on the desk.

“All it took was one look at you in that outfit and I was already hard,” he groaned into your neck, sucking on a spot before flicking his tongue over the bruised skin.

“Why Spencer Reid, do I turn you on?” you smirked, pulling at his tie to undo it.

“Fuck yes. Probably as much as I turn you on, sweetheart.”

Your teeth raked over your bottom lip as the heat roils inside of you. You’re throbbing with want and need; you have an itch only he can possibly scratch.

He has your shirt over your head before you can even get his tie off. He lowers you back against the top of the desk, kissing down your torso, his hands working to remove.

“This is an unfair advantage here,” you moaned, “You’re way overdressed.”

He tosses his tie before pulling off your pants and underwear and you sit up on your elbows, watching him.

With one lick up your slit, you’re a moaning mess.

“I always imagined you talking smart between my legs,” you mumbled, anticipating his next move.

“Mm, that’s something to try another day,” Spencer smirks, unfastening his pants.

He leans over you, kissing you roughly as he slides inside you. He moans against your mouth, his teeth gently tugging your bottom lip as he pulls away and thrusts slow and deep within you.

“Damnit, Spencer you are not going to tease me now like you have for the last 3 years.”

He chuckles, standing upright again, pulling you to the edge and as closely as possible to him as his hips move faster and harder.

It’s rough and fast as if you can’t get enough of each other and he’s quickly got you writhing on the desktop.

“Fucking shit, Y/N,” your name drags from his lips in a low grown.

This was so much better than you’d even imagined, the lighting fire of ecstasy in your veins being caused by no one but him. Your hands grip the edge of the desk so hard your knuckles turn white.

“Spence!” you shrieked loudly as he hits a particular sensitive spot.

You’re so glad there’s no one else around down the hall.

“Oh my god,” he moans, his own release falling over him.

Your gaze takes in his slackened jaw and thrown back head, his throat vibrating with his groans. It’s so incredibly sexy, you almost go over the edge yourself at the sight.

His thumb circles your clit, insistent on getting you off as well. The pressure builds inside you until you can’t contain it anymore and you let go, ecstasy flowing through your veins, his name falling from your lips repeatedly.

When you finally feel like you can breathe again, you struggle to sit up, already missing the feeling of him inside of you.

“Good God, if only I knew you were as good at that as you are at profiling,” you said, half dazed, reaching for your clothes as he hands them to you.

He snickered as he pulls himself together, bending down to pick up the file on the floor and heads to the door. He stops with one hand on the doorknob and looks at you.

“You know, I kinda hope this isn’t a one time thing,” he said, almost meekly.

Your answer puts a smile on his face.

“Believe me. Next time, I’m having my way with you.”

I, I wanna be bad.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid gifs #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid gifs #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds gifs #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 43

Title: Revelations

Warnings: profanity, angst

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip

He’s out the door by five thirty in the morning; leaving behind the warmth and the comfort of his home and making the five block trek to the Hudson River. With no fresh snowfall, the sidewalks and streets are remarkably clear; milder than normal temperatures slowly melting the waist high banks and turning patches of ice into puddles of muck and slush. His strides are long and purposeful. Soles of his runners crunching as they pass over neatly and tightly packed snow; following the foot tracks that earlier pedestrians have left behind. Chin tucked into his chest and his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie; anxious to get to his destination and start the day off in the right frame of mind. The headphones worn over a black beanie render him oblivious to sounds of life taking place around him ; the pounding of the music blocking out the sounds of traffic and the rattles and bangs that accompany the city garbage trucks. While he doesn’t make eye contact with those he passes, he notices the nods of greeting; meeting them with the brief turning up of the corner of the mouth and a slight head nod of acknowledgment. It’s what he enjoys most about the area and what eventually sold him on the idea of buying the brownstone; people are friendly enough to smile or offer a quick ‘good morning’, but don't possess enough curiosity to actually stop and speak.

He’s never been a social butterfly. Popular in high school, he’d blended in easily with the ‘jocks’ simply because of his athletic prowess and fairly good looks; girls wanted to date him, guys wanted to befriend him and hang out and attend beach parties. And while he’d followed the mantra ‘fake it until you make it’ and managed to stay quietly on the sidelines, he’d never been entirely comfortable with his status as one of the ‘cool kids’. The guy who’d get irritated when his buddies would make fun of the less popular kids; easily flying off the handle and calling them out on their shit if they said anything degrading towards the special needs students or dared to lob sexual comments towards females. He’d felt more in tune with the ‘loners’; the ones who’d hang out in the back of the cafeteria with their noses shoved in books or who’d eat their lunch sitting in front of their lockers.

It’s how he’d met his ex wife; a newly arrived grade nine student whose family had just moved Port Douglas from Perth. Taller than most females he’d ever encountered, she’d had a thicker build that both guys and girls consistently made fun of; broad shoulders and muscular legs and well defined arms. Shy and soft spoken and never making eye contact with anyone in the hall; thick, wavy blond hair falling over her face as she ignored the whispers and the stares and kept her books and binders clutched tightly to her chest. He’d been the first student to approach her; the last football player to leave practice and finding her sitting on a curb outside of school, waiting for a ride that was running late. And she’d seemed both stunned and terrified when he actually spoke to her; standing above her still clad in his now muddy and sweat soaked practice gear, helmet tucked under one arm and his backpack slung over a shoulder. Introducing himself and offering both a hand in greeting and a ride home; quickly discovering that she had a beautiful smile and the most stunning green eyes he’d ever seen. And she’d made him feel things that none of the other girls ever had; never experiencing that immediate and intriguing spark with any of the prom queens or the cheerleaders that he’d attempted relationships with in the past.

“I know who you are,” she’d said, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. It had shimmered in the sunlight; the lightest and most beautiful shade of blond that he’d ever laid eyes on. “Everyone talks about you. You’re like the most popular guy in school. Yet you don’t act like that. You’re not a total ass to people. You’re different.”

It had been the first time that anyone had ever told him that. Truly believing that the company he’d kept had painted him in a far different light. Guilty by association because those he hung around were boisterous and crude; convinced that being good at sports meant they ran the school and didn’t have to show respect to anyone. And it had made him feel good; being seen as kind and compassionate doing wonders for his ego in a way no touchdown or goal scored ever could.

She’d accepted his ride home that night. And the request for a date before she slipped out of the car. Two weeks later they were inseparable and considered themselves ‘exclusive’; holding hands in the hall and having lunch together every day and spending nearly every waking hours outside of school with one another. He was convinced that he met the love of his life and that she’d be the one he’d marry and have a family with. Grow old with.

It had started out well; a brief engagement and married only a week after graduation. She’d been certain she could handle the life of a soldier's wife; he was new to the military but extremely committed and determined to make a lifelong career out of it. And for the most part they’d been happy; a little house not far from his home base, a tight circle of both military and civilian friends, the honeymoon stage lasting well into the second year. Everything changed once he received his first deployment; eight weeks in Afghanistan that quickly turned into six months. When he’d returned home, he’d begun hearing the rumours; she was angry at his absence and his inability to call home on a regular basis and sought solace in the arms of not just one man, but many. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, and she’d been convincing when he’d confronted her about it; pledging her undying love for him and assuring him -with both words and her body- that he was the only man that she’d wanted.

He’d been an idiot. For years. So smitten that he hadn’t wanted to accept the truth and refused to walk away; seeing her as his ‘be all and end all’ and not wanting things to come to an end. He DID love her. Probably a lot more than she had ever loved him. He’d been so terrified of abandonment, that he’d held on even tighter; he’d lost the only other woman he’d ever loved at a very early age and couldn’t stand the thought of losing Sarah too. So he put up with it; sticking by her side no matter how many notches on the bedposts she lodged and no matter how rampant the rumours and the gossip became. Soon that love turned into resentment and sheer tolerance. Letting her live her ‘double life’; pretending to be a happy and adoring couple in public yet knowing she was off running around behind his back the second he was shipped off for a tour. His drinking became a problem; booze numbing the heartache and the loneliness and giving him an escape from the miserable reality of his life. And he’d been a week removed from filing for divorce when the pregnancy test came back; she was expecting a baby and she was adamant it was his despite all the evidence that told him there was no way he could possibly be the father. He couldn’t leave her like THAT. He’d be viewed as the bad guy; the asshole that had ended his marriage WHILE his wife was pregnant. So he’d changed his plans; vowing that he’d stay by her side no matter what and that he’d be the best father and family man he could possibly be.

He’d been in Iraq when Austin was born; informed of his son’s arrival while in Mosul and immediately sent home. And he’d known right away that the kid wasn’t his the second he’d looked at him; not a single feature that could be attributed to either father OR mother. But it hadn’t mattered. The second he’d held Austin in his arms and all of those tiny fingers had curled around just one of his, Tyler had made his decision; he’d stick around and be the boy’s daddy and love him a way he never thought it was possible to love another human being. He’d be the kind of father his kid could one day brag about; attentive and patient and compassionate. Never would he be like his old man. He would cut back on his drinking and get help with his anger management issues and his wife would never have to worry if he’d wander and find someone else; throwing himself one hundred percent into their marriage and in raising a family together. Even if it meant that he’d never be truly happy and that she’d continue her dalliances whenever he was stationed overseas. He’d stay committed to her no matter what; his son never having to grow up without both parents under the same roof or suffer from the trauma of being from a broken home.

The cancer had changed everything. The stress behind caring for a terminally ill child had brought out both his and Sarah’s true sides; they didn’t love each other and could barely stand being in the same room together and all of the pretending and the faking was just wearing them down and making things even worse. But he’d admired her; her commitment to caring for their rapidly deteriorating son, the steadfast determination to beat it ‘no matter what’, and the rock solid courage she displayed when it was evident Austin’s time on earth was coming to an end. And despite her mistakes and her failures as a wife, she HAD deserved better. She had needed a man that would support her; someone that would hold her while she cried and lift her up during the especially dark and trying times and would be by her side during funeral preparations. He’d failed her; running away when things became too painful to witness. And in the end, he’d failed his son as well. Leaving him alone and scared; his final moments on earth spent wondering what he’d ever done to make his father hate him THAT much.

It’s been seventeen years and sometimes it hurts just as much as it did the moment he got the news. The loss still painful and immense; a part of his heart forever torn out of his chest and never able to be put back into place. And it isn’t just the unexplainable and often unbearable sorrow that comes with losing a child; so powerful and pronounced it can bring even the toughest of men to their knees. It’s the guilt and the regret that continue to haunt and eat away at him; silent and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. It comes when he’s at his lowest; when the combined mental illnesses are rearing their ugly heads and threatening to drag him down. That’s when the voices come out to play; the cruel and the degrading whispers in his ears that insist he’s EXACTLY the monster that he’s made himself out to be. The kind that abandons those he loves when the going gets tough; physically brave, but an emotional coward. They remind him not only of the mistake he’d made with Austin but those he’d committed within the last twelve and a half years; the lies he told and the promises he broke and the times he raised his voice or put a fist through a wall. The moments he’d slipped and given in to his addictions; the fear of being a failure as a husband and father pushing him to not only the job, but the bottle and the pain meds as a form of coping and a means of escape.

Normally he’s able to fight those voices off; years of therapy -and an extremely patient and attentive wife- helping him develop healthy coping mechanisms. The water remains his favourite and most successful form of escape; the familiar scent of salt that hangs heavily in the air, the sounds of the waves as they roll up onto the shore, the sun's powerful and often punishing rays glistening on the rippling surface of the ocean. Sometimes it’s a couple hours spent surfing; the feel of the wind against his face and crispness of the water that seems to cleanse his very soul. There’s days where it’s as simple as a walk along the ocean line; the water lapping at his ankles, wet sand cushioning and moulding around his feet. Or a hike through the forest across from their home. Taking a well beaten path that snakes and winds through the dense gathering of trees and leads to a small clearing; a small wooden staircase he’d erected shortly after they’d moved into the house giving access to a patch of pristine, white beach. It’s a tiny piece of solitude; tucked away and unseen from even the edge of their main property. And they’ve ventured there together many times; taking along that faded and tattered plaid blanket and a picnic lunch and taking advantage of every minute of quality time granted to them. Reconnecting in many ways; playful bantering and light hearted teasing, deep and emotional chats revolving their respective childhoods and the shared loss of the only parent that had loved either of them. Even after twelve and half years there’s never a lull in conversation; always something new and long buried that’s brought to the surface and finally shared after decades of locking it away. It’s never boring when they’re together; a strong friendship and a unique and powerful bond -cemented during that difficult and terrifying time nearly thirteen years ago- serving as a stable foundation for everything else built upon it.

The riverfront is quiet. A half a dozen dog walkers and one lone jogger. The latter a middle aged woman in top of the line athletic gear that he’s encountered a handful of times over the past three years and always offers him a warm smile and a nod in greeting. He pauses at the railing; checking for any missed calls or text messages and taking his time to stretch and warm up. The body feels good today; the stiffness and the pain minimal, the warmer than usual temperatures keeping any arthritis flare ups at bay. There’s a distinct connection between his physical condition and his mental one. When his body feels healthy and he’s able to skip the daily cocktail of pain meds and exercises learned during physio, his mental condition isn’t as fragile. The burden of stress and torment that normally sits upon his shoulders suddenly seeming so much lighter; the usually bottomless and fermented wound in a long ago broken heart not seeming so gaping or festering. He feels energized and renewed; a deep and peaceful sleep and a pain free morning making him feel as if he’s prepared -mentally and physically- to take on the world. It’s still there; the black cloud of depression that hangs over him. But it doesn’t seem so ominous or menacing; those slivers of hope and positivity managing to sneak through.

He takes a moment to relish the view. The peek of the sun on the horizon, the glistening of the snow and the chunks ice that have taken up inhabitance on the surface of the Hudson, the faint glimmer that plays off the windows of the skyscrapers in the distance. There’s moments where he’s truly content here; enjoying the change of pace and admiring the vast differences between New York City and home. Today is one of those days; he feels secure in both where he is and WHO he is. A welcomed outsider as opposed to a strange and mysterious interloper. It’s a reminder that home is wherever his heart lies. His wife and his children sound asleep; warm and safe in their beds only blocks away.

SHE’S his heart; the person that came into his life and turned his world upside down and reminded him that he was still very much alive and had so much more living left to do. Showing him -for the first time in thirty five years- what it was like to be TRULY loved; wholly and completely and unconditionally. Someone so bright eyed and light in heart and spirit; managing to love life and everyone in it despite all of the pain and the suffering that they’d been put through. Giving him what he’d hadn’t even realized he needed; a normal life with everything familiar and mundane and domestic that came with it. Someone to wake up to in the morning; a sleepy smile and soft lips against his own, hands reaching for him and a warm body pressing against his. Going to bed with them every night; those remaining conversations that take place in a darkened, quiet room and the intimacy shared and the love and appreciation expressed.

Once more removing his phone from his pocket, he selects a different playlist and jacks the volume up on his headphones; drowning out the world around him and concentrating on nothing but breaking a sweat and pushing his body to its limits.

*****

It’s shortly after seven when he returns to Gramercy Park. Layers of clothing sticking to sweat soaked skin, beanie long discarded and shoved in his pocket; hair damp and sticking up in several different directions. The tips of his ears and his cheeks flushed from both the chill in the air and the effort and energy he’d put into his run; slow and steady at first, then legs and arms pumping as hard and powerfully as they possibly could. He feels invigorated; a level of energy and exuberance that he hasn’t encountered in weeks. Maybe even months. And it’s a welcome change. Feeling healthy AND content at the same time.

Before returning home he stops at the bodega at the end of the street; filling a basket with the various items Tanner had scrawled onto a post-it note he’d found attached to the fridge. The kid never fails to both surprise and amaze him; constantly finding recipes or ‘science experiments’ on the internet and always insisting on trying his hand at them. Forever curious; holding onto that innocence and that joy and wonder for far longer than any of his older siblings ever had. Phenomenally intelligent and talented; teaching himself how to play the guitar and the piano by ear, his paintings and drawings always appearing as if they’re done by someone so much older and possessing an experienced eye. Emotionally mature and wise, but socially lagging; unable to form friendships and constantly feeling awkward surrounded by groups of people and easily overwhelmed by too much activity and noise. Yet so empathetic and compassionate; easily and powerfully feeling other peoples’ emotions and his moods and behaviour dictated by the mere energies people give off when around him.

The bodega owner greets him with a broad smile and a friendly nod when he approaches the counter. A first name and very few details kind of friendship; Frank the sole proprietor and only full time employee since the store’s opening forty years ago. Short and stocky; a headful of curly salt and pepper hair and a thick moustache and a heavy Bronx accent. Both know very little about the other; talk mostly revolving around the weather and current events and Frank’s never ending curiosity about life in Australia and his overwhelming desire to visit and one day retire there.

“Alone today,” Frank comments, and moves to the small coffee bar -nothing more than a handful of machines and containers for milk and cream- behind the register. It’s an understanding between them; Tyler never needing to ask and Frank knowing his standing order. “That doesn’t happen often. Normally you’ve got at least one or two rug rats hanging off ya.”

“Gotta sneak out when I can.” He empties the contents of the basket onto the counter; the latter he stores in the rack at the end of the counter. “How’s business?”

“Quiet. Same thing every Christmas. The elite like to get away. They’re going to where you’re from, and your kind are coming here. Must be quite the culture shock, huh? Going from the sand and the sun to this crap?” It’s a typical conversation starter; the same opening question Tyler’s been asked every single visit for three years running.

“It’s a change, that’s for sure. Can’t say I wouldn’t rather be back in the sand and the sun. But…”

“But the kiddos and the sweetheart like it. I get it. When my daughter moved to Phoenix with her husband about ten years back, she insisted on coming back here every Christmas. Missed the cold and the white shit too much. Who the hell is crazy enough to miss THAT?”

“Wife says it’s the magic of the season. Wants the kids to experience it. White Christmas and all that. And they enjoy it; skating, sledding, snowball fights, all of that crap. If they’re happy, I’m happy.”

“I hear ya there. Makes a man’s life much more easy and relaxed, that’s for sure. If the littles and the wife are happy, things are a lot more pleasant, know what I’m saying?. They all doing well?”

“No complaints. Got spoiled at Christmas, Aunt’s coming to visit today, big brother’s getting married in three days…”

“Busy, busy. Not rest for the weary. How’s that cute little wife of yours?”

“Still little. Still cute.”

“How you holding up? Must be hard being away from home. From what you’re used to.”

“I miss it,” Tyler admits, and nods his appreciation for the coffee that’s set down in front of him; black, no sugar. “It’ll be nice to get back. It’s quieter there. No one really around. Just our own slice of paradise. Private. Just the way I like it.”

“You definitely are a stickler for your privacy, aren’t ya.”

“I’ve got my reasons. For keeping to myself.”

“Just not a people person, huh?”

“I like people. Some don’t like me. It’s better if they keep away. Especially from my family.”

Frank nods in understanding, then begins ringing up and bagging the purchases. “Gotta like a man that will defend and protect his own, no matter what.”

“You do what you gotta do,” Tyler reasons, reaching into the pocket of his hoodie when he feels his cellphone vibrate against him. Eyes narrowing and a frown playing on his lips when he reads the text sent by his wife; complaining about being woken up from a dead sleep by the ‘new nuisance in town’ repeatedly ringing the doorbell.

He was confident they’d seen and heard the last of Natalie. While he’d been grateful for her assistance in the American Girl store during Addie’s disappearance, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. His already agitated and guilt stricken mood made even worse but yet another attempt on her part to proposition him; boldly stating in front of other customers and his children and granddaughter that while playing hard to get only made him sexier, it was time to put an end to the games. It was obvious -in her mind- that he was attracted to her and was only holding back out of a sense of loyalty and obligation to the woman who’d given him seven offspring.

The sex would be off the charts, Natalie had whispered in his ear, and brazenly attempted a crotch grab while waiting in line at the register. Not caring about the still sobbing Addie in his arms and tightly clinging to him, or the furious glares that Brookie was shooting in her direction. He hadn’t been kind in his rejection; angrily yanking her hand away with enough force to cause her to wince in pain and for his fingers to bruise the skin around her wrist. And he’d kept his tone low yet forceful when he’d told her to back off; he wouldn’t tolerate blatant disrespect towards his wife, especially in front of two of the children she’d not only hand in creating, but had carried inside of her.

“Bad news?” Frank inquires, and pushes the plastic bags across the counter.

“Something I’d rather NOT be dealing with.” He tucks his phone back into his pocket and checks the total on the register; pulling forty from his wallet and waving off the change when Frank begins to hand it over. “But it’s probably better in my hands that my wife’s.”

“Feisty little thing, ain’t she,” Frank chuckles. “I still remember when she told that one kid off for checking out your one girl. Your oldest. She was over there looking at the magazines, minding her own business, and some fucking high school joker was checking her out and making comments to his buddies. Your wife certainly isn’t afraid to mix things up, is she.”

“You don’t mess with a mumma bear. She’s tiny, but she’ll rip you apart,”

Frank grins, “Bet that makes you toe the line, huh?”

“I long ago learned what buttons NOT to push. She looks all cute and sweet and innocent, but trust me, that girl can fuck someone up. I’ll probably see you later.” He gathers up the bags in one hand, cup of coffee in the other. “TJ and Declan will want to come by. They also do when you get the new Archie comics.”

“Already put two aside from them. Gotta treat my best customers right. And speaking of that privacy you like so much…”

Tyler pauses in the doorway.

“You ain’t gonna like what I have to tell you.”

“Not when you put it like that I won’t.” He once more approaches the register. “What’s going on?”

“Someone’s been in here a few times asking about you. And your family. I meant to tell you yesterday, but you had the girls with you and I didn’t want to bring something up that might spook them or upset them.”

“Someone from the neighbourhood?”

“A newcomer. Some woman. Tall, blond, need a power washer to get all that crap off her face. Why do women do that? Why do they feel the need to smear on the war paint? Looking like damn clowns is what they look like. I don’t want to be stuck in the rain with a girl and turn around and look at her and find damn eyebrows washed away, know what I’m saying? Wake up next to them and all the makeup is gone and you no longer recognize them and you think some strange woman snuck into bed with ya in the middle of the night.”

“What did she want, Frank? What did she want to know?”

“Little questions, mostly. Mostly about you and your wife. How you met, what her name was before she met you, where she’s from originally, family life. That kind of thing. Wanted to know your last name but I told her I had no clue. First names only. That’s the way it’s always been.”

“Ask anything about my kids?”

“Just wanted to know their ages, school grades, stuff like that. I didn't have any info to give her and I told her that much. Also said even if I DID know, I wouldn’t cough it up to her or anyone else. Awful nosey, don’t you think? Trying to get up in a man’s business like that?”

“She’s definitely treading on thin ice. I appreciate it. That you wouldn’t tell her even if you did know that stuff.”

“Ain’t nobody's business what you do with your life. And it especially ain’t none of their concern when it comes to children. That’s just creepy as hell, if you ask me. Think she’s up to no good? Trying to cause trouble? With you and the missus?”

“I don’t know what she’s up to.” He moves towards the door. “I’ll find out though. One way or another. Thanks for letting me know. And for having our backs.”

“You and your family have been nothing but good to me, figure I should return the favour. Let me know how it turns out, would ya? Once you find out just what she’s up to. Inquiring minds want to know, and all.”

“I’ll let you know,” Tyler promises, and uses a forearm to push open the door.

“Hey!” Frank calls to him, and he pauses on the threshold. “What IS your last name?”

“Drummond.” The lie rolls easily off the tongue. Almost TOO easily.

“Tyler Drummond,” Frank nods as he considers it. “Got a nice ring to it. You know, you don’t look like a Tyler.”

“Yeah,” he grins, and steps out the door. “So I’ve been told.”

*****

He finds her in the kitchen. Back turned towards the doorway as she waits for the toaster to finish its cycle; repetitively tapping the end of a butter knife against the granite countertop as her body repeatedly shifts weight from one side to the other. Well known evidence of agitation and simmering anger; body always needing to be in motion, anxiety propelled nervous ‘tics’. She’s been fighting her own battle against mental illness for longer than he’s known her; the years of psychological torment inflicted by her mother -and eventually an emotionally, physically, and sexually abusive husband- leaving wounds far deeper and more punishing than anything his body has ever experienced. Medication and therapy have helped, as has finding her own ‘niche’ in the world beyond just being a wife and a mother; running her own business, a once weekly yoga and meditation class, her own strenuous workout plan that he’d helped her create. She’s always managed well considering; panic and anxiety attacks fairly uncommon and periods of deep and crippling depression far and few between.

While he always admonishes her for taking on too much and throwing herself into caring for others instead of herself, she swears that it helps; keeping her mind and her body occupied and not giving her a chance to sit still for too long and dwell on things. He’s sure there’s some PTSD in there. The incident on the Sultana Kamal Bridge still weighs heavily on her; unable to sit down and talk about it without having an emotional meltdown and suffering from the occasional night terror. But she always shrugs off the idea of additional help and supports; insisting she’s fine and just needs to keep busy and that things will pass. They always do. And even though she’s infamous for calling him the most stubborn human on the planet, he’s pretty sure that it’s HER that actually holds that title.

Per Tanner’s written instructions, he leaves the bodega purchases in their bags; carrying them into the pantry and placing them in a plastic tote box marked with his son’s name. The ten year old very particular and detail oriented; extremely neat and tidy and having his own anxiety attacks if anyone dares to upset his ebb and flow. For his seventh birthday, the only gifts he’d requested were a label maker and over two dozen food storage containers; adamant that those were the only things he wanted and didn’t care about the idea of a new bike or surfboard or the latest gaming system. Less than twenty four hours after receiving what he so desperately coveted, he’d used them to reorganize the pantry at home; everything stored in plastic containers and labelled appropriately and throwing a fit if anyone didn’t alphabetical order when putting things back on the shelves. THAT had prompted them to finally seek out a diagnosis for him. They had suspected it for years; Tanner sitting some place on the Autism spectrum. Yet it had still been hard to hear the words come out of the specialist’s mouth; fear and worry and concerns for his future flooding through them as they saw the words neatly printed out in their son’s medical chart.

“Everyone still asleep?” he inquires, as he finally approaches. Standing behind her with his hands on her hips; lips meeting the top of her head as his fingers gently knead the supple flesh. Even when -uncharacteristically- grumpy first thing in the morning, she is always at her most adorable; hair messy and face still puffy from sleep, petite frame clad in her infamous mismatched pyjamas. Today it’s a pair of scrubs with the word Columbia printed across the ass and a faded and tattered t-shirt from his side of the closet; miles too big on her yet somehow sexy at the same time.

“Thankfully. Takota woke up in a panic; the doorbell scared the ever loving shit out of him. You know how it is; things always seem a thousand times louder when you’re asleep. I cuddled with him for a bit; he’s passed out in the middle of our bed now.”

Draping an arm across her collarbone, he presses a kiss to her temple, then watches in amusement as she tends to the toasted bagel now sitting on the plate in front of her; putting enough force behind buttering it that the knife pierces the toast.

“You know…” his lips rest against the side of her head. “...you’re not supposed to stab the damn thing.”

“Better to stab this than walk down the street and stab that bitch in the fucking face,” she reasons. “I don’t think I’m in the position in my life where it would be a good idea to go to prison.”

“Definitely wouldn’t be ideal at this point and time. Not to mention you always complain about how shitty you look in orange. So how about we NOT stab anyone and try to rein in our homicidal tendencies?” Reaching around her, he wrenches the knife out of her shockingly tight and strong grip; completing the preparation of the bagel for her.

She tips her head back to look at him, smiling in appreciation. “I’m mad.”

“I can see that.”

“What is that woman’s major malfunction? Why is she so goddamn insistent on seeing you? I mean, I know you’re hot and the walking and breathing definition of masculinity and you’re enough to make even the old ladies all weak in the knees, but fuck…” she turns around to face him; plate in her hand as she leans back against the counter. “...she is WAY worse than any thirsty females on the playground or at the soccer park.”

“She’s something else alright.” He moves to the kettle boiling on the stove; snagging a clean mug from the drainboard by the sink and a tea bag from a canister on the counter.

“To show up here at all is a dumb ass thing to do. But at seven in the morning? Knowing there’s a house full of littles here? She has a kid of her own. I doubt she’d like if someone popped up on her doorstep and woke her crotch fruit up.”

“I don’t think she gives a shit, Me. About our kids OR her own.”

“She treats that kid like a goddamn accessory. Have you seen the way she dresses that little girl? Fur coats and Gucci and Chanel, a freaking bracelet and earrings from Tiffany’s. The kid even carries a bloody Birkin bag! She’s six! What the hell kind of parent buys stuff like that for ANY kid? Never mind a six year old.”

“A person with money to burn apparently.”

“WE have money to burn. And then some. Our kids wear clothes from Target. The occasional UnderArmour or Nike swag here or there. Most expensive thing on them is their shoes. And not even THOSE are over a hundred bucks.”

“Millie does have that expensive purse,” he points out, as he stands in front of the open fridge door and snags a carton of milk; dumping the preferred and required amount into the steaming mug of tea. “The pink one.”

“The Chanel. Yes, she does have that. And you know why she does? Because when Millie says ‘daddy, I really like that’, daddy goes ahead and buys it for her and doesn’t even bother to check the make or the price tag. That is SOLELY on you.”

“Daddy likes to spoil his girls,” he reasons, offering the mug as he rejoins her. “Especially the oldest one.”

“Millie always HAS been your favourite.”

“I meant YOU,” he presses a chaste peck to her lips when she turns her face up towards him. “Not Millie. I spoil you way more than I spoil any of those kids.”

“And how many times have you been told NOT to?”

“Way too many to count. How many times have I told you that I don’t give a shit what you say and that I’m going to keep on doing it?”

Smirking, she rips a piece of bagel off with her teeth. “Touche.”

“What did she want?” He stands next to her, palms resting on the edge of the counter. “The nuisance?”

“To be just that. A nuisance. I kept telling her you weren’t home. That you’d gone out for a bit. She wasn’t having any of it. Insisted that I was lying and accused me of being jealous and possessive and told me that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep you away from her. Something about 'you can’t stop what the heart AND the body want'.”

He gives a derisive snort.

“I don’t know. By that point I had already tuned out and was fantasizing about how I was going to kill her and dispose of her body. What the hell is her issue? I get that she has a raging female boner for you and in all fairness, I don’t blame her. But that woman is coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs. And I don’t use that term lightly. I save that for the REALLY crazy ones.”

“Did she say what she wanted? Why she even came over here?”

“You mean other than to jump on your dick? Or to convince me that you and her have some undeniable sexual chemistry and that you’re reluctant to leave me because I’m clingy and needy and have trapped you with half a dozen kids? Plus one.”

“She said that?”

“Every last word. Apparently you and her have really hit it off. There’s some kind of powerful and potent sexual and emotional connection between the two of you. News to me.”

“She’s fucking delusional. You realize that, yeah?”

“Big time delusional. I know what you’re like. I know how much you love me and your kids; how you’re unwaveringly faithful and loyal. I’ve never doubted any of that. I’ve never had a reason to. If you wanted out, you would have left a long time ago. You’ve had your chances.”

“I don’t want out. I’m all in. I’ve been all in for twelve and half years. I’m all in for the rest of my life. So sorry, Me. You’re stuck with me. Until the bitter end.”

“I can think of worse fates. But what the hell is her problem? Who does shit like this? Calling on another woman’s husband? Making up bullshit like that? Trying to cause problems between people?”

“A crazy person, that’s who. That’s all she wanted? To see me?”

“To give you Addie’s mitts back. I guess she left them at the American Girl store and crazy lady picked them up. Couldn’t she just leave them in the mailbox instead of showing up and ringing the doorbell at seven in the morning? Is that NOT what a normal person would do?”

“I think we’ve already established that she’s NOT normal.”

“You didn’t tell me she was there yesterday,” Esme sips at her tea. “At the American Girl place.”

“I thought I did.”

“That’s my sworn enemy. I would definitely remember if you told me something like that.”

Tyler shrugs. “Guess it just slipped my mind with everything else that was going. With Addie flipping out and me feeling like shit for losing it on her, telling you about the neighbour wasn’t the first thing on my agenda. I probably should have, but…”

“So she just happened to be there? At the American Girl lunch?”

“Yup. Showed up with her kid.”

“Kind of a coincidence, don’t you think? That she’d be there on the EXACT same day? I don’t mean to go all paranoid and possessive and jealous wife, but…”

“You’re not paranoid. And aren’t we all a little possessive? And jealous? When we love someone? I’m that way with you. I don’t like guys checking you out and making comments towards you and all that. And if that makes me possessive and jealous…” shrugging, he reaches for her tea and takes a sip.

“This woman has serious issues, Tyler. She’s nuts. Certifiably, I think. Didn’t you already tell her to leave you alone? That you’re married? Happily?”

“More than once.”

“Does she not realize some men actually DO value the sanctity of marriage? Mind you, it doesn’t seem like many these days, but still.”

“I don’t think that’s the kind of married men she’s used to, Me. I don’t think I fit HER definition of a married man. And it’s not for the lack of trying to scare her off. I’ve tried. Several times. Doesn’t seem to be getting through.”

“She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. Still, I don’t like someone pissing in my front yard. Continuously. Seems awful weird; her somehow showing up nearly everywhere you go. I can see the park being a one off; she was new to the community, saw a parent there and took it upon herself to try and make friends. But everything else? When you took the kids for lunch, when you and I were on our date; we SAW her watching us from her living room window. She didn’t hide it.”

“That was a little...odd,” Tyler admits.

“And how many times has she suddenly popped into the bodega when you’ve been there with the boys?”

“I’d say nine times out of ten.”

“That’s way too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“I do think that. I also think we need to talk about it. About all of this.”

“Oh God…” she grimaces. “...you ARE leaving me for her.”

“What?” He can’t help but laugh. “No, baby. NO. I am definitely NOT leaving you for her. For ANYONE. I already told you; I’m in this right to the end. Whenever that may be. There’s no one else, Me.” Draping an arm across her shoulders, he pulls her into him; lips meeting her temple and lingering for several seconds. “There’s just you. There’s always just been just you. Always will be.”

“And we need to talk about her because…”

“Because there’s more going on than you realize. More than just her showing up places.”

Esme frowns, mug poised at her lips. “Uh oh. I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“Believe me, I don’t like it either. What’s going. But you’re right; that woman definitely DOES have issues.”

“Other than being a stalker you mean?”

“I don’t know EXACTLY what’s going on. Or how serious it is. But I don’t like it. What she’s up to.”

“And coming from someone with your instincts and your background? That’s saying something. Do I need to worry about it? Is it something we need to really watch out for and take seriously and…?”

"I honestly don't know, babe. But she knows stuff. About us. She somehow knows our name. Called me by first AND last yesterday. I've never told her what it is. And I highly doubt you did."

“I want to stab the woman in the face with a butter knife, so I think it's safe to say I’m NOT going to be out there telling her personal things. How WOULD she find that out? It’s not like it’s advertised anywhere. Frank doesn’t know it, Desi wouldn’t say anything.”

“She tried to blame TJ. Said she talked to him when he was out shovelling snow and that he coughed up the info. I confronted him and he denied it. Said that she DID stop to talk to him and all he told her was his first name. That’s it. Told me he knows better than that; not to tell strangers much about us.”

“TJ doesn’t lie. Not since he got caught...on camera...denting your truck and trying to tell me that it wasn’t him. He learned his lesson, believe me. And out of all the kids who would be a blabber mouth? He’s the last one. He idolizes you. The last thing he wants to do is piss you off or disappoint you. So when you tell him what to do or what NOT to do, he listens.”

“So how did she know? If neither of us told her and Desi didn’t say anything and we know it’s not TJ…”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t been around any of the other kids. They’d all say something. They’d tell us if she was asking questions.”

“She had to find out from somewhere. Someone had to tell her. It’s not like that info is just out there for anyone to look up. You don’t even use a real last name on the internet. We’ve been careful. We locked everything down five years ago. Made sure people couldn’t find shit out. But somehow…”

Sighing heavily, she carries her empty mug and dirty plate to the sink, then rejoins him; standing between his legs with her hands on his hips. “Do you think it's something serious? Something we need to worry about?”

“Are you asking me if I think she’s a threat?”

Esme nods.

“I don’t get that feeling from her. I don’t think she’s the type that gets her hands dirty. More the type that aids the person that does.”

“That sounds familiar. I distinctly remember someone else who used to do exactly that.”

“Let’s not compare the two of you. You’re nothing alike.”

“I used to help people get their hands dirty. I used to ask all the questions and find out all the info and then pass it along to guys like you. Sounds like she might be into the same kind of thing. Have you looked into her? Find out anything about her?”

“Not much to find out. Couple things here and there but nothing serious. I know she used to be in a relationship with the District Attorney in Chicago. There was a write up about it; the two of them at some charity event a few years back.”

“Is he the ex husband?”

“If he is…” he tucks her hair behind her ears, then cradles her face in his palms; thumbs repeatedly brushing against her cheeks. “...she’s never gone by his last name. I checked into that, too.”

“Maybe try Nik. She’s got a real knack of finding things about people. Things they’ve long kept buried. I’m sure she’d look into it. Probably have better luck than you.”

“If it comes to that, I’ll go in that direction. But I was thinking…”

She smirks. “I don’t think I like the way you said that...”

“...that if you still had any of your old contacts….”

“My old contacts? I haven’t spoken to any of them in years. Not since the whole fuck up with Nathan and the fake papers from the Marines. I haven’t talked to any of those people since.”

“What about people in the game? That you worked for BEFORE Nik? You ever talk to any of them?”

“There’s a couple I interact once in a while but mostly about non job related stuff. Just random checking in on each other and seeing how our lives are going. You’re not serious about this, are you? About wanting ME to try and find things out? I haven’t had a finger on that particular pulse in a long time.”

“The circle’s pretty tight,” Tyler reasons. “Once you’re in it, you’re never really out of it. There’s guys I haven’t talked to in years but I know I could call if I needed a favour. Maybe you’ve got a couple of those too. People that would do you a solid if you needed them to.”

“I thought we agreed that I’d put that part of my life behind me? We talked about this. After I royally messed things up by not realizing those papers sent to me were fake. I mean, it’s practically my fault that Nathan managed to get a hold of you in the first place.”

“Okay, we’re NOT going to go there. Because none of that is true. It happened. There’s no one to blame. He knew he couldn’t take me in a fair fight. Knew he had to get me from behind. Take me down.”

“And he wouldn’t have been able to had I NOT called you. Had I realized those papers weren’t the real deal, you never would have gone there and confronted him. We would have waited for the legit documents and you would have known how unstable he was. Instead, I just sent you in there and…”

“Let’s get one thing straight. You didn’t do anything. I went in there on my own. It was my choice. I had the chance; to walk away and leave him there. And I didn’t. I went back in. You had nothing to do with it.”

“If I’d known about the papers…”

“YOU had nothing to do with it,” he repeats. “There was no way you could have known what we were dealing with. Same way I couldn’t have known. It happened. Nathan did what he did.”

“Yeah, and you almost died. Because I was careless and…”

“Stop,” he presses a kiss to her lips in order to silence. “We are NOT going to talk about him. Nothing good ever comes out of talking about that asshole. So can we not? Bring him up? Can we let this go?”

“I just…”

“Drop it,” he orders, and then pecks the tip of her nose. “Please.”

“All I’m saying is…”

“Oh my god, woman. Stop.” Placing a kiss to her forehead, he gathers her into his arms; pulling her tightly into him, hands locking together at the small of her back. “We’re not going to talk about this. Five years ago. It never leads to anything good. And I really do not feel like fighting with you. Not after the night we had last night.”

Smiling, she wraps both arms around his waist. “It was a good night.”

“A very good night.” He drops a kiss on the top of her head. “You were fucking incredible.”

“I was, was I?” She looks up at him, bottom of her chin resting on his chest. “You weren’t too shabby either. You know how to raise the bar impossibly high, I’ll tell you that much. And that whole thing in the tub? We need to do that again. ASAP.”

“Thought you didn’t enjoy it. You were practically having a temper tantrum.”

“I was frustrated. Do you know that aggravating it is? Getting that close and having someone just yank the carpet out from under you? Do you have any idea how maddening that is?”

“Actually, I do. You’ve done it to me. Many times. But if you want to do it again…”

“I do. There’s a lot of things I want to do again. And again. And again. With you.”

“Baby, I aim to please.”

“And you do. Very well, as a matter of fact. Even though I am still slightly embarrassed by my reaction. You know, when I…in the tub...when you…”

“When I made you squirt?” He chuckles when she gives an embarrassed groan and buries her face in his shirt. “Why does that make you all shy and shit? I’m the last person you should be embarrassed around. We’ve been doing some dirty shit since day one. You think you would have stopped getting embarrassed a long time ago. I’ve only been your husband for twelve and a half years.”

“It’s just so...I don’t know...gross.”

“Gross? It’s fucking hot. It’s a turn on. Knowing I can make you do THAT? It doesn’t happen often; you getting THAT worked up.”

“Well I guess you need to try harder,” she teases, and gives a yelp when he brings both palms down onto her ass in ringing slaps and then squeezes tightly. “I have to say, husband. You really are a man among men. I definitely hit the jackpot when I landed you. Smartest thing I ever did; letting you put a ring on it.”

“Even though you didn’t want to marry me at first?”

“For the record…” her hands move to his sides, softly and repeatedly moving over his ribs. “...I never said I didn’t want to marry you. I said I was scared to get married again. That I was worried we were going to fuck things up. And I loved you and I didn’t want us to fuck them up. We both had pretty bad track records when it came to marriage.”

“That’s because we both married the wrong people the first time around.”

“I was just scared. I didn’t want things to go bad between us. Not when they already seemed so good. And if that meant staying the happily unmarried couple…”

“But I wasn’t okay with that. I wanted to get married. To you. And before you ask? No. Not because you were having Millie. She had nothing to do with it. I would have wanted to marry you even if there hadn’t been a baby. But I’m glad there was. She’s pretty awesome. They all are.”

“Yeah,” she smiles up at him. “They are. We’ve done good work, Tae. We definitely make some pretty damn beautiful babies. And it’s kind of sad; that there won’t be anymore. Kind of bittersweet. But I think it’s time for us, don’t you? Time for you and I to concentrate on each other for a change. I don’t want that to be all there is to us. Two people raising kids together.”

“There’s way too much between us for it to ever be just that,” he assures her. Laying a hand on the small of her back, he once more pulls her tightly into him; fingers of his other hand biting into the cheek of her ass when he covers her mouth with his.

The kiss is long and soft and slow; her arms wrapping around his waist as she stands on the top of his feet in order to give her that little bit of extra height. Her lips moving against his in perfect unison; moulding and fitting together in ways he’d never experienced with anyone else before. Bodies so in sync with each other; always so responsive and eager.

“I have another favour to ask,” he says when he pulls away, hands settling on her hips.

“You keep kissing me like that?” Her eyes are still closed as she sighs heavily and dreamily. “ For the rest of my life? You can ask as many favours as you want.”

“I don’t want you causing issues with Riley. Over the fentanyl.”

Her eyes snap open; a frown curving her lips as she looks up at him.

“She didn’t give it to me with bad intentions. It wasn’t like she was hooking me up with a fix. That’s not what I wanted it for. It had nothing to do with being an addict and everything to do with the pain I was in. I had screwed that knee up and it was going to be months before they could do another reconstruction and I couldn’t take much more. That’s how bad it was. How bad I was suffering. And I knew the doctor wouldn’t give me anything else. That he’d think I was just drug seeking; in it to get a high.”

“So you asked her.”

“I couldn’t ask Ovi. I knew he’d tell you. And I didn’t want him getting caught and his whole career going down the toilet before it even started. So when Riley came up here that summer, I asked her for something stronger. To hook me up with something that could help. And she put up a good fight; she wasn’t going to go give in. I’m the one who convinced her to. Promised I’d only use it when necessary.”

“And did you? Use it just when necessary?”

“Only when the pain got to be too much. She gave me enough pills to last a couple months. I only took eight. In the two weeks we were here. That’s it. When we were ready to go back home, I put them in the medicine cabinet and never thought about them again.”

“Until the other night.”

Tyler nods. “It scared the fuck out of me, Esme. How easy it was to take to them. To remember they were even there. I didn’t even give it a second thought. I just grabbed them and took them. No hesitation.”

“You realize how badly that could have gone, right? You don’t play around with that stuff, Tyler. That is some heavy duty shit and you just went ahead and took six of them and…”

“Not one of my finer moments.”

“It could have killed you. That many. You know that, right? It could have killed you. Did you even stop to think about that? About what would happen? How I’d find you dead? On Christmas morning? Did that even occur to you?”

“No,” he admits. “And that’s what scared me. The fact I didn’t think of any of that. That I just took the stuff. Like I’d done it a million times before.”

“Did you WANT something bad to happen?”

“No, babe. I didn’t. I just needed to shut my brain up. I just needed to get away from it. I needed peace and fucking quiet. An escape. From what goes on in my head.”

“I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be one hundred percent honest with me. No matter how hard it will be for me to hear or how bad you think it will hurt me. I need you to tell me the truth. Can you do that? Be honest with me?”

“I can.”

“Do you want to die? Right now. Right this second. Is that what your brain is telling you? Is that what it’s BEEN telling you? That it would be better if you weren’t here? That my life and the kids’ lives would somehow be better if you weren’t around anymore? Has it been telling you that?”

“How did we get onto this? I was just asking you not to go off on Riley. That she was only trying to help and…”

“Please don’t do that. Deflect. I’m scared too. It frightens me that you found it so easy to take those pills. That you didn’t even stop to think of what could happen. How it could have killed you and what that would have done to me. And the kids. That isn’t like you; you weigh options and you analyze every scenario and you consider every possible consequence. So I need to know. Did you take those pills because your brain is telling you that you’re better off dead?”

“Esme…”

“Tyler…” her voice cracks with emotion and she valiantly fights back against a flood of threatening tears. “...I need you to tell me the truth. I need to know exactly what we’re dealing with here. I need to know just how serious this is. I need you to tell me what’s REALLY going on in your head. So we can get past this and figure shit out and work on how to help you.

“I don’t…”

“I know you’re just trying to protect me. And believe me, I love you so much for that. The fact you’ve always protected me. No matter what. But right now I need to know the truth. Or we won’t get past this. Do you want to die?”

He swallows heavily. “Sometimes.”

“When was the last time you thought of it? When you felt that way?”

“Couple days ago.”

She briefly looks away in an attempt to control her emotions. “That night you took the fentanyl? Did you want to die then?”

He nods.

“Jesus….” she rakes a hand through her hair, then places it over her mouth; tears managing to escape. “...I mean, I was pretty sure you were going to say yes. We’ve been in this place before. I’ve taken a loaded gun out of your hand, for crying out loud. But to actually hear it…”

“I’m sorry, Me. I’m sorry that my brain is the way it is. I am so fucking sorry.”

“I know you can’t help it. I know it’s an illness and I know first hand how bad it can get. But I just…” she takes a deep, quivering breath and slowly releases it. “....I need to go and get some air or something. I need to just get out and get my shit together. I need…”

“Baby….” he attempts to move his hands to her shoulders, but is foiled when she takes a step backwards.

“I need to get out of here. Just for an hour. Just to clear my head and accept this and figure out a way to deal with it. It’s not you, Tyler. You realize that, right? Please tell me you realize that.”

“I do. I do realize that.”

“I just don’t know how much more I can take,” she admits. “I am so close to breaking and if that happens, I won’t be of any use to you. Or the kids. I just need some fresh air and a chance to get myself together and come to terms with this. With just how bad it actually is. Can you give me that? Just that little bit of time?”

“Of course I can.”

“It’s not you,” she repeats, and moves closer to him. Once more perching herself on top of his feet; both arms reaching up to circle his neck. “I need you to know it’s not you.”

“I know that, Me.” He cradles her face in his palms; fingers gently brushing away the tears that glisten on her face. “Just tell me you’re coming back. That you’re not just going to walk out of here and leave me and our kids. Tell me…”

“I’m not leaving you. Or them. I just need some time. An hour, even. Just to get my shit together. Just to sort through all of this stuff in my head. I’m not going anywhere, Tyler. I’m not walking away from you. From our family. From US. That isn’t even an option.”

“I’m just worried you’re going to walk out and realize it’s just too much. That I’M too much.”

“That’s not going to happen,” she assures him. “I love you. My whole world begins and ends with you. I need to be able to help you. And right now? I don’t think I can. I feel like I'm drowning. Or like I’m walking on really thin ice and one bad step is just going to pull me under. And I need to be okay. I need to be strong. For you.”

“I need you to be strong for YOURSELF. Why haven’t you told me any of this? About how you’re feeling? Being this close to the edge? Why…?”

“Not right now, okay? I’m going to go and get dressed and get some air. And when I come back, we’ll talk. We’ll get TJ and Millie and Alannah to watch everyone and we’ll sit down and talk. Get it all out in the open. BEFORE Riley gets here. I’m coming home, you know. It’s not like I’m disappearing off the face of the earth. I WILL be back.”

“And I’ll be here. No matter long how it takes.”

“An hour,” she promises, and turns her face up to his when he leans down to kiss her. “I didn’t lose you to Dhaka,” she says, and places her hands over his; eyes closing as his lips press against her forehead. “And I sure as hell won’t lose you to your own mind.”

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