#she wants to be hunted down and kept as a play thing

[marvelmymarvel]

Family Tree (Part 1)

Synopsis: The thing following you was something... Unhuman. You kept it to yourself about the demon following you around like it was attached to you, but working alongside the Winchester brothers made you realize that there was a much bigger reason as to why the nun looking demon was haunting your every waking moment.

Prequel Part 1

A knock echoed throughout your apartment, at first you ignored it, thinking some drunk college student was just playing a prank, but then they grew louder and more frantic. Groaning, you rolled out of bed before slowly walking to the door. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you opened the door, “Can I help you?”

The man's fist was mere inches from your chest and you could see the slight blush starting to creep up his neck. Behind him was Sam, which only confused you further. “Hey Sammy… Who the hell is this?”

The man lowered his hand before clearing his throat, you watched as his eyes raked up and down your body “Ya Sammy… Who's the babe?”

Your lips curled up into a snarl as you tried your best to pull down your sleep shorts to hide yourself, “Creep” you muttered before turning back to Sammy, expecting an answer as to why he was currently standing at your door at 10 PM with a creepy but attractive older man next to him.

Sam cleared his throat before slamming his hand into the man's back to make him stop, “Y/n, this is my brother Dean… Dean, this is Y/n…” To many, the introduction would clear up many questions that a person may have, but the statement only confused you further. “I thought you hated your brother?” 

Dean’s eyebrows shot up and Sammy cringed at the bluntness of your words, it was true that he spoke poorly about his brother to you and Jess, but he was hoping neither of you would say anything… Jess didn't, but you? You were always the wild card. The best friend he never knew he needed but sometimes regretted having, especially when you caused issues and started fights at the bars. Leading him to either hauling you out of there or physically stepping in to fight.

“I like her”

“I didn’t ask”

“Didn’t have to”

Your back and forth with Dean only caused you to become angrier the longer you looked at him and his stupid cocky little smile. “Sammy, can you punch him for me?”

“I’d rather you do it yourself sweetheart” Dean sleazily said as he stepped closer to you, hoping that you would take the bait and he could somehow convince you to have hate sex with him. But the fire in your eyes quickly faded as you turned to look back into the apartment, as if something had spooked you. Sighing, you rubbed at your face in exhaustion. Normally you ignored the demon in the corner, but when you were exhausted it became harder to do. “Listen, do you need something Sam?”

“We need your help with finding our dad”

You peeked through your fingers, brows furrowed as you processed the words.

“What?” Both you and Dean snapped out at the same time, making Sam sigh in exasperation. “Listen, you know this stuff like we do-”

“You want me to go hunting with you?”

“Just this one time…”

Dean looked between the two of you, “I’m sorry, are you a hunter?”

“No… She just… She’s seen and been through things”

You shot a glare at Sam, practically commanding him into silence. Talking about it only made her come out more and more, if you ignored her, she would go away. It’s the reason you only told Sam a couple of times about your experiences, and it's the reason you refuse to interact with anything supernatural.

“Sammy-”

“Please, just this once. We need an extra set of eyes and ears. If she comes out, we can do something about it”

You smiled sadly at him, if he was referring to an exorcism, it wouldn't work. You’ve gone through 5 in the past 6 years and she always came back. Dean looked at you quizically, curious as to what these ‘things’ that you went through were. You seemed like a normal girl to him, but he knew that the least likely people can have the darkest secrets.

Your fingers fiddled with the cross necklace that rested against the nape of your neck, teeth chewing on your lip as you thought through what may or may not happen. His brown eyes practically begging you to just give in and help. Letting out a sigh, you turned on your heel and headed for the bedroom, “I’ll pack my things.”

Dean kept looking back at you through the rearview mirror, but you barely noticed as you looked out the window of the Impala. Sam was trying to tell him something, but he could care less. He just wanted to know about the secrets you were hiding. “Dean. Are you even listening to me right now?” Sam stated firmly, causing you to flick your eyes at the pair. They were brothers, no doubt about it. 

Ignoring Sam, Dean decided to ask his first of many questions. “So, Y/n… What's your tie to the supernatural world?”

Your e/c eyes locked with his in the mirror, he was expecting a glare but only got a cold, stonelike gaze. “I have a demon following me”

Dean blinked in shock as Sam sighed out in exasperation, “A demon? You sure about that? Is it just your imagination?”

“She looks like a nun. She’s been around since I was 17. She’s here now.”

Dean whirled around, eyes wide as he frantically looked for the evil being you spoke of, but the backseat was empty except for you. “She doesn’t show herself to anyone but me. Thankfully she's sitting farther away,” you stated before pointing to the seat farthest from you. You tried your best not to look at her, the mere thought of it gave you the chills. No matter how hard you prayed, she never went away.

“Dean watch the road!” Sam exclaimed as the Impala started to veer off the road, Dean turned back swiftly, hauling the Impala back to the center of the lane. His eyes kept flicking back to you and then to Sam, hoping and praying that this was some kind of sick joke. But neither of you said anything, only making him regret agreeing with Sam to bring you along.

The motel smelled of rat droppings and cockroaches scurried at the light being switched on. Your nose scrunched up in disgust as you entered behind Sam, “This is where we are staying?” Dean came in behind you, smirking at the sight of your distaste, “This is how we live sweetheart! Fake credit cards don’t get you the Hilton experience”

You scowled at Dean before moving towards the beds, heart sinking as you looked between the two beds. “What's the matter?” Sam asked quietly, as to not alert his brother, but his brother's ears were much sharper than he gave him credit for. Dean stalked over with your bag, smug grin on his lips as he realized just what the problem was, “You can sleep with me in my bed, sweets”

You scoffed in disgust before ripping your bag from his hands, “I’d rather sleep with the roaches” you grumbled as you moved towards the grimy couch. At this point, it was 3 in the morning and you were exhausted. Any other time of day you would have been upset with the situation, but all you wanted was to go to sleep.

Sam shot Dean a warning look before offering you his bed, but you simply shook your head, “I’ll be fine, Sam, it's just one night.” Dean fought the urge to laugh at your statement, but decided you had enough torture for one night. Climbing onto the couch, you cuddled into the blanket Sam had given you. It smelt of smoke but was comforting none the less, before you knew it, you were out like a light.

Your eyes shot open a mere hour later, heart stopping at the all too familiar face hovering over you. It had been the closest she had gotten in a while and it made you freeze in fright. You closed your eyes tightly, mentally praying for God to save you from whatever was about to happen to you. Cold fingers touched your cheek, causing you to leap from the couch and fly into the bed closest to you. Hauling the blanket over you, you curled up against the body below it, trying your best not to break down from fear. 

A hand touched you once more, your body vibrating and shaking below it from pure fear. “Hey, you okay?” Your eyes widened in shock, realizing that you had landed in the wrong bed, but at the moment you could care less. Gripping onto his shirt you shook your head against him, “Can I please sleep here?” you whispered tearfully, lip trembling as the feeling of the cold fingers still lingered in your mind and on your skin. Dean nodded before pulling you closer to him, “Sure… You sure you’re okay?” he grumbled, trying his best to fight back the sleep in his eyes in case you were in danger.

“I’m fine now, let's just sleep please”

Dean nodded again before moving your face into his neck, “There, now you can't see her”

[lost--in-a-haze]

Run my little bunny, as fast as you can, as far as you can. It doesn't matter where you are, or how hard you try to escape me, I will always find you. And when I do I’ll tie you up right above the fireplace as my masterpiece, just as any hunter would. Only I get to pull you down whenever I need relief, and for that matter whenever my guests need relieving. To be blindfolded, gagged and tied up, unable to breathe fully or see anything. Unable to move without rope tightening up and pinching you. Taken from a human, and diminished into a piece of art to be judgingly stared at, and poked and prodded at relentlessly. What a pathetic existence you'll have to endure, little bunny. Don't worry though, I'll make sure you can never go back to the life you once had. You’re my favorite artwork afterall, don't you think everyone should know about it. 

[harrysfolklore]

birthdays - cl16

summary: charles and yn's love story spans over two decades, beginning when they meet at charles' 6th birthday party, where she promised to be there for all of his birthdays. wc: 4.6k

folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY MAIN BOY 🥹🥹 a few years ago i wrote a fic like this for harry and it’s one of my favorite things i’ve posted so i felt like doing a charles version! i hope you like this as much as i do <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

6th birthday

The sun shone brightly over Monaco as YN and her mother walked down the tree-lined street. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the salty breeze from the nearby Mediterranean. The little girl clutched her mother's hand tightly, her eyes wide as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings of their new neighborhood.

"Are you excited for the party, sweetheart?" her mother asked, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

She nodded hesitantly. "But what if the other kids don't like me?"

"Don't worry, darling. I'm sure you'll make friends in no time," her mother assured her as they approached a beautiful villa with colorful balloons tied to the gate.

As they entered the backyard, they were greeted by the sight of children running around, laughter filling the air. A large bounce house dominated one corner, while a face-painting station was set up near the house. Tables adorned with race car-themed decorations were scattered around, laden with snacks and party favors.

A warm voice caught their attention. "Welcome! You must be our new neighbors."

YN looked up to see a kind-faced woman approaching them, a welcoming smile on her face.

"I'm Pascale Leclerc," she introduced herself, shaking her mother's hand. "And this must be YN! We're so glad you could make it."

She shyly hid behind her mother's leg, peeking out at Pascale.

"Charles!" Pascale called out. "Come here, darling. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

A small boy with tousled brown hair and bright blue eyes came running over, his cheeks flushed from playing.

"Charles, this is YN. She's new to the neighborhood," Pascale explained. "Why don't you introduce her to your friends?"

Charles grinned widely, revealing a missing front tooth. "Hi! Do you want to play with us? We're having a treasure hunt!"

She looked up at her mother, who nodded encouragingly. Slowly, she stepped out from behind her mother's leg.

"Okay," she said softly, "And happy birthday."

Charles's grin grew even wider. He reached out and took her hand. "Come on! I'll show you where we've found clues already!"

For the rest of the afternoon, YN found herself caught up in the excitement of the party. She and Charles searched for treasure and bounced in the bounce house. By the time the cake was brought out the little girl was laughing and chatting with her new friends as if she'd known them for years.

As the party began to wind down and parents started arriving to pick up their children, Charles approached YN, a serious look on his young face.

"YN," he said, "will you come to my other birthdays too?"

"Yes!" she nodded enthusiastically. "We should be friends!"

Charles's face lit up. "Best friends!" he declared, holding out his pinky.

The girl linked her pinky with his, sealing their newfound friendship. As she left the party, clutching a goody bag and wearing a bright smile, she knew she had found something special in her new home.

12th birthday

The wheels of their bicycles whirred as YN and Charles raced down the winding streets of Monaco. The sun beat down on them, but the breeze created by their speed kept them cool. YN's laughter echoed off the buildings as she pedaled harder, trying to keep up with Charles.

"Come on!” Charles called over his shoulder, a mischievous grin on his face. "We're going to be late for my own party!"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "It's your fault for insisting on this bike race, birthday boy!"

They skidded to a stop in front of Charles's house, both breathing heavily but grinning from ear to ear. The front yard was already bustling with activity - balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the chatter of arriving guests filled the air.

As they walked their bikes to the garage, YN nudged Charles with her elbow. "I can't believe you're twelve already. You're practically ancient."

Charles laughed, running a hand through his windswept hair. "Says the girl who's been twelve for a whole two months. Come on, I smell cake!"

The party was in full swing, with kids from their school playing games and enjoying the sunny day. Charles's parents had outdone themselves this year, setting up a mini go-kart track in the backyard. The birthday boy, of course, was the undisputed champion, zipping around the track with a skill that left his friends in awe.

As the afternoon wore on, everyone gathered around a large table. In the center stood a cake, decorated to look like a Formula 1 car, complete with Charles' lucky number on the side. Twelve candles flickered atop the cake, their flames dancing in the gentle breeze.

Charles's eyes widened as his parents brought out the cake and the guests began to sing "Happy Birthday," their voices rising in a cheerful chorus. YN sang along enthusiastically, watching her best friend's face light up with joy.

As the song came to an end, Charles took a deep breath. With a determined look in his eye, he leaned forward and blew out all twelve candles in one go.

While Charles's mother began cutting the cake, YN edged closer to her best friend. "So," she said with a grin, "what did you wish for? To finally beat me in Mario Kart?"

Charles glanced around conspiratorially before leaning in close. "I wished to win the Monaco Grand Prix one day," he confessed, his green eyes sparkling with dreams of future glory.

YN's smile softened. Even after six years of friendship, Charles's passion for racing never failed to impress her.

"Wow," she said. "That's a pretty big wish."

"It's my biggest dream. But you can't tell anyone, okay? Or it won't come true."

"Your secret's safe with me," she promised. Then, struck by a sudden thought, she held out her pinky finger. "Hey, remember when we promised to be friends forever at your sixth birthday?"

"Of course!" Charles's face lit up with recognition, "Best decision I ever made," he said, linking his pinky with hers.

"Well, let's renew that promise. Friends forever, no matter what. That way, when you win the Monaco Grand Prix, I'll be right there cheering you on."

"Deal," Charles agreed, shaking their linked pinkies. "Forever friends."

As they sealed their promise for the second time, both of them felt the weight of it. At twelve, forever seemed like an awfully long time, but neither could imagine a future without the other in it.

16th birthday

The Italian sun was setting, painting the sky in orange and pink as YN made her way through the bustling paddock. The air smelt of rubber and gasoline, the sounds of engines filling her ears. She clutched a small, wrapped package in her hands, her eyes scanning the team garages for a familiar face.

Finally, she spotted him - Charles was standing next to his Formula 3 car, deep in conversation with his engineer. Even from a distance, she could see the intensity in his eyes, the determination set in his jaw. At sixteen, Charles was no longer the little boy she'd met at that birthday party a decade ago. He was taller now, leaner, with the beginnings of stubble on his chin.

"Charles!" she called out, waving to catch his attention.

His head snapped up at the sound of her voice, and his serious expression melted into a wide grin. "YN! You made it!" He excused himself from his engineer and jogged over to her, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Of course I made it," YN laughed, returning the embrace, "I couldn't miss your birthday, even if you insisted on spending it at a racetrack in Italy."

Charles pulled back, his eyes shining with excitement. "I'm so glad you're here. Come on, let me show you around."

As they walked through the paddock, Charles pointed out different teams and drivers, explaining the intricacies of Formula 3 racing. She listened intently, asking questions and marveling at how much Charles had grown not just in stature, but in knowledge and passion for his sport.

They ended up in Charles' team garage, where a small cake sat on a tool cart, a single candle stuck in the center.

"The team got it for me," Charles explained, looking a bit embarrassed. "They said we had to have something, even if we're not having a proper party."

YN smiled softly. "Well, then we better make it count." She lit the candle and started singing "Happy Birthday," her voice soon joined by the mechanics and other team members who had gathered around.

Charles blew out the candle, his cheeks slightly flushed. As the cake was being cut and distributed, YN handed him her gift.

"It's not much," she said as he unwrapped it, "but I thought you might like it."

Inside was a leather-bound journal, the cover embossed with Charles' initials.

"I thought you could use it to write down your thoughts, your goals… maybe even your future Formula 1 strategies," she explained with a wink.

Charles's eyes lit up. "This is perfect. Thank you." He pulled her into another hug, this one lasting a bit longer than usual.

As they sat on the pit wall, eating cake and watching the sun set over the track, YN turned to Charles. "So, how does it feel? Being here, racing in Formula 3… you're so close to your dream now."

Charles nodded, his expression turning serious. "It feels amazing, but also a bit scary. Everything's happening so fast, you know? Sometimes I worry…"

"Worry about what?" she prompted gently.

"That I might not be good enough," Charles sighed, "That I'll let everyone down."

"Charles, look at me," YN reached out and took his hand, when he met her eyes, she continued, "You are the most talented, dedicated person I know. You're going to make it to Formula 1, and you're going to be amazing."

"You really think so?" a small smile tugged at Charles's lips.

"I know so," she affirmed,then, with a playful nudge, she added, "Just promise me one thing?"

"Anything," Charles replied without hesitation.

"When you make it to Formula 1 and become a big star, don't forget about me, okay?"

Charles's expression softened, and for a moment, YN thought she saw something flicker in his eyes - something more than just friendship. But before she could analyze it, he squeezed her hand and said, "I could never forget about you. No matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend."

What YN didn't know was that in that moment, Charles was fighting the urge to tell her how he really felt. That she wasn't just his best friend, but the girl he had fallen in love with years ago.

But the timing wasn't right, not yet.

So he pushed the feelings down, locked them away. There would be time for matters of the heart later. For now, he had a championship to win and a birthday to celebrate - with his best friend by his side, just as she'd always been.

21st birthday

The Monaco night was alive with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. Charles Leclerc's 21st birthday party was in full swing at a rooftop bar overlooking the Mediterranean.

The who's who of the racing world mingled with Charles' friends and family, all gathered to celebrate the young Sauber driver's birthday.

YN stood at the edge of the crowd, nursing a glass of champagne as she watched Charles work the room. He moved with an easy confidence, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with team principals and fellow drivers. Yet every few minutes, his eyes would scan the crowd until they found her, and he'd flash her a quick smile before returning to his conversations.

As the night wore on, YN found herself on the balcony, enjoying a moment of quiet away from the party. The view of Monaco at night was breathtaking - the lights of the city twinkled below, mirroring the stars above.

"There you are," a familiar voice said behind her. "I've been looking for you."

She turned to see Charles approaching, two fresh glasses of champagne in his hands. He handed one to her before leaning on the balcony railing beside her.

"Sorry," she said with a small smile. "I just needed a bit of air. It's quite a party in there."

"Yeah, I think the team might have gone a bit overboard," Charles chuckled, "But I'm glad you're here."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping their champagne and looking out over the city.

"So," YN said finally, turning to face him. "How does it feel to be 21? Official adult now, Formula 1 driver… you're living the dream, Charles."

Charles's expression turned thoughtful. "It feels… surreal, honestly. Sometimes I can't believe this is my life." He paused, then added softly, "But you know what the best part is?"

"What's that?"

Charles turned to face her, his green eyes intense in the moonlight. "That you're still here. After all these years, all these changes… you're still by my side."

YN felt her heart skip a beat at the earnestness in his voice. "Of course I am, Charles. I'll always be here for you. We made a promise, remember? Best friends forever."

Charles felt his heart race at her words. "Best friends forever." The phrase that had once brought him so much comfort now felt like a bittersweet reminder of the feelings he'd been harboring for so long.

As he looked at her, bathed in the soft glow of the Monaco night, memories flooded his mind. He thought of her cheering him on at his first go-kart race, of late-night study sessions where he'd catch himself staring at her instead of his textbooks, of the way his heart had leapt when she'd surprised him at his race in Italy on his 16th birthday. He realized he couldn't pinpoint exactly when he'd fallen in love with her because, in a way, he always had been.

The weight of his unspoken feelings suddenly felt unbearable. The thought of going another day, another year, without her knowing the truth seemed impossible. Charles took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do.

"YN," he said softly, setting down his champagne glass and taking her free hand in his. "There's something I need to tell you."

She looked up at him, curiosity and a hint of something else – was it hope? – in her eyes. "What is it, Charles?"

Charles swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his ears. "You're right, we did make a promise to be best friends forever. And you are my best friend, YN. You're the person who knows me better than anyone else in the world. But..." he paused, gathering his courage. "But you're not just my best friend. You're the one I'm in love with. I always have been."

YN's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. Charles pressed on, unable to stop now that he'd started.

"I can't hold back anymore. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Every success and failure, every moment of doubt or triumph – you're the one I want to share it all with. Not just as my friend, but as... as more."

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I know this might change everything between us, and if you don't feel the same way, I understand. But I couldn't let another birthday go by without telling you the truth. You're it for me, YN. You always have been."

For a moment that felt like an eternity, she stood frozen, her eyes locked with Charles's. The weight of his words hung in the air between them, charged with years of unspoken feelings and shared history.

Then, without warning, YN closed the distance between them. She reached up, cupping Charles's face in her hands, and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. Charles, caught off guard for only a split second, wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as he returned the kiss with equal fervor.

When they finally parted, both slightly breathless, YN rested her forehead against Charles'. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears of joy as she whispered, "I love you too, Charles. I think I always have."

Charles felt his heart soar, a smile spreading across his face that was brighter than any he'd ever worn on a podium. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder and hope.

She nodded, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Really. I just... I never thought you'd feel the same way. You're Charles, I'm just-"

"You're everything," Charles interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "You're my best friend, my biggest supporter, the person I want to share every moment with. You're the one who knows all of me, not just the racer, but the boy who still gets nervous before every race and who can't sleep without his lucky charm."

YN smiled, remembering the small trinket she'd given him years ago that he still kept with him at every race. "We've been quite oblivious, haven't we?" she said, shaking her head in amusement.

Charles chuckled, pulling her close again. "Maybe. But we have all the time in the world to make up for it now."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms with the twinkling lights of Monaco as their backdrop, both felt as though they were exactly where they were meant to be. The sounds of the party drifted out to them, a reminder of the celebration waiting inside, but for now, they were content in their own world.

"Happy birthday, Charles," YN murmured, leaning in for another kiss.

Charles smiled against her lips. "Best birthday ever," he replied before closing the distance between them once more.

24th birthday

The sun was setting over Monaco as YN stood in front of the mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She smoothed down her dress, a sleek number in Charles' favorite shade of red. As she fastened her earrings, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist from behind.

"You look absolutely stunning," Charles murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder and meeting her eyes in the mirror.

She smiled, leaning back into his embrace. "You clean up pretty well yourself, birthday boy," she replied, taking in his sharp suit and perfectly styled hair.

Charles pressed a soft kiss to the curve of her neck, causing her to shiver slightly. "You know," he said, his voice low and playful, "we could always skip the party. Stay here, just the two of us…"

"Nice try, Leclerc," YN laughed, turning in his arms to face him, "But your team worked hard on this party, and all your friends and family are waiting." She reached up, straightening his tie. "Besides, I put a lot of effort into your gift. I want to see your face when you open it."

"Oh? Any hints about what it might be?" Charles' eyes lit up with curiosity.

"Not a chance," YN grinned, tapping his nose playfully. "You'll just have to wait and see."

He pouted for a moment before breaking into a warm smile. "Fine, keep your secrets. As long as I have you by my side, that's all the gift I need."

YN felt her heart melt at his words. Even after all these years, Charles still had the ability to make her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you," she whispered against his mouth.

"I love you too," Charles replied, deepening the kiss for a moment before reluctantly pulling away. "But you're right, we should get going. We don't want to be late to my own party."

As they drove through the winding streets of Monaco, the city lights twinkling like stars, YN couldn't help but steal glances at Charles. Suddenly, she noticed that they were heading away from the bustling city center.

"Charles?" she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice. "I think we're going the wrong way. The party's downtown, isn't it?"

Charles smiled mysteriously, his eyes never leaving the road. "I thought we'd take a little detour first. Trust me?"

"Always."

They drove in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, the familiar sights of Monaco giving way to a quieter, more residential area. Finally, Charles pulled up in front of a beautiful house, its elegant facade bathed in the glow of streetlights.

"Charles, what are we doing here?" YN asked as he came around to open her door.

He took her hand, helping her out of the car. "I have something to show you," he said softly, leading her towards the house.

As they approached the front door, Charles pulled out a key. YN's eyes widened in surprise. "Charles, is this...?"

He unlocked the door and gently guided her inside. The house was empty, but even in the dim light, she could see its potential - high ceilings, large windows, and an open floor plan that seemed to invite warmth and laughter.

Charles watched her take it all in, his heart pounding with nervous excitement. Finally, he spoke.

"YN, from the moment I met you, you've been my home. No matter where I am in the world, no matter what challenges I face on the track, you're my constant. My safe haven."

She turned to face him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Charles continued, his voice thick with emotion. "But I realized that while you've given me a home in your heart, I've never been able to offer you a physical place that's truly ours. Until now."

He took both of her hands in his. "This house... I bought it for us. I want it to be our home. A place where we can build our future together, where we can come back to after long days or weeks apart. A place filled with our love and hopefully... our family someday."

Tears were now flowing freely down YN's cheeks. "Charles," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"I know my career keeps us traveling a lot," he said, reaching up to wipe away her tears gently. "But I want you to have roots, a place that's ours. Where you can always feel safe and loved, even when I'm not there."

YN let out a watery laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "You never cease to amaze me, Charles Leclerc. This is... it's perfect. It's more than I ever dreamed of."

"So, what do you say?" Charles pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers, "Ready to start our next chapter here?"

Instead of answering with words, she closed the gap between them, pouring all her love and gratitude into a passionate kiss. When they finally parted, both breathless, she whispered, "Yes. A thousand times, yes."

They stood there in the empty house that would soon become their home, holding each other close. The party, the guests, the whole world outside ceased to exist for a moment. It was just the two of them, standing on the threshold of their future together.

After a while, Charles chuckled softly. "You know, we're probably very late for the party now."

"I know," she said, her voice still thick with emotion, "It's supposed to be me giving you gifts on your birthday, not the other way around."

Charles chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, I've never been very good at following rules," he teased. "Besides, seeing your face when I showed you our home? That's the best gift I could ever receive."

YN shook her head, a warm smile playing on her lips. "You're impossible, you know that? But I love you for it."

"And I love you, for as long as I can remember."

27th birthday

Charles stood on the balcony of their home, the same one he had surprised YN with three years ago. His fingers absently traced the outline of a small velvet box in his pocket, his heart racing with anticipation and nerves.

Inside, he could hear her moving about, putting the finishing touches on his birthday dinner. The aroma of his favorite dishes filled the air, bringing a smile to his face. At 27, Charles had achieved more than he ever dreamed possible – multiple Formula 1 wins, a strong contender for the championship, and most importantly, a life shared with his best friend and the love of his life.

"Charles?" her voice called from inside. "Dinner's ready!"

He took a deep breath, patting the ring box one last time before heading inside. The dining room was bathed in soft candlelight, the table set beautifully with their best china. YN stood by the table, looking radiant in a deep red dress that matched the color he wore on race days.

"Happy birthday, my love," she said softly, pulling him into a tender kiss.

As they sat down to eat, Charles couldn't help but marvel at how far they'd come. "You know," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand, "I was just thinking about my sixth birthday party."

"The day we met," she said with a warm smile. "How could I forget? I was so nervous about moving to a new place."

Charles chuckled, remembering the shy little girl who had hidden behind her mother's leg. "And now look at us. Twenty-one years later, and you're still the best gift I've ever received."

YN felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "I remember you asked me to come to all your future birthdays," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"And you've been here for every single one," Charles replied, his green eyes shining with love.

The weight of the ring box in Charles' pocket seemed to grow heavier, but he resisted the urge to pull it out just yet. Tonight was about celebrating. The proposal could wait for another perfect moment.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he continued, "but I thank my lucky stars every day that you walked into that birthday party all those years ago. You've made every birthday since then more special than the last."

"Oh, Charles," she whispered, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "You've given me more than I ever dreamed possible. That little girl who was so scared of not fitting in found her home in you."

They came together in a kiss that was soft and sweet, yet filled with the depth of their shared history and the promise of their future. As they held each other close, both were transported back to that sunny day in Monaco, two six-year-olds making a promise of friendship that had blossomed into a love story for the ages.

When they finally pulled apart, Charles rested his forehead against hers, a soft smile playing on his lips. "So," he said, his voice light but filled with emotion, "think you might stick around for a few more birthdays?"

YN laughed, the sound like music to Charles' ears. "Just try and keep me away, Leclerc. You're stuck with me for all your birthdays, forever and always."

As they finished their dinner, Charles felt the ring box in his pocket once more. Soon, he thought, he'd ask her to make it official, to promise him not just all his birthdays, but every day in between.

But for now, he was content to bask in the glow of their love, celebrating not just his 27th birthday, but the incredible journey they'd shared.

[ltleflrt]

Figuring out I'm on the ace spectrum was so difficult because I have always been a horny bitch. I knew what sex was at a fairly young age, because I'd asked my mom and she's one of those good parents who'll answer questions like those, and as I grew older and would ask more complex questions, her answers would evolve along with my curiosity and understanding of the world. And I remember having fantasies as young as 9 or 10 years old, even if they were hella vague and nothing close to what sex actually is lol

So as I became a teenager, and all my friends' focus turned from playing with dolls to flirting with boys, I automatically thought I was attracted to boys. And I paid more attention to Cute Boys than I did to Cute Girls, because girls were just nice to look at while boys were People To Have Crushes On. Because of heteronormativity. Looking back on it now, I know there were girls I liked to stare at just as intently as boys, although less often because I wasn't trying to pay attention. And I certainly didn't fantasize about girls because I started reading romance novels in 5th grade, so I was fantasizing about male romantic partners because that was the fiction I was consuming. I didn't even realize fantasizing about girls was possible until I was 17, and I had a few "am I a lesbian" internal crises for years because of it.

So when I did start having sex, I had A LOT OF IT with SO MANY different guys, and eventually a couple of women once I started accepting that bisexuality was real. But it was never really fulfilling. Not like my fantasies were. Not like my books were. I was slutty because sex was fun, I was horny, there were plenty of options so I kept searching for that satisfaction I was craving.

Getting married was a relief (even though it turns out I'm aro-spec too lol) because I was tired of hunting, and even if sex with my husband was meh, at least I had someone around to scratch that itch if I had it, and he didn't mind if I occasionally took care of things on my own because I'd read an especially hot scene in a romance.

I learned about asexuality in my early 20s, but I brushed it off. Couldn't be me, I'm far too horny for that. But I think that comes from the fact that everything you hear about Aces is attached to sex-repulsion or sex-indifference. I wasn't either of those things. I was horny all the dang time. I was fantasizing about sex all the dang time. I figured actual sex was meh because my imagination was so vivid that real life could never match up. Which could be true to an extent, but I think not as much as popular opinion would have us believe. If fantasy was really that much better for everyone, then I think we'd have less incels and unplanned pregnancies than we do.

In my 30s I finally saw people talking about The Spectrum, and I started examining my past, and I figured out I wasn't really attracted to anyone I had sex with. I do occasionally find someone attractive; there are men and women and enbies who make my skin feel tight and give me a little wave of lightheadedness lol... but it's always always the fantasy that gets me really going. If given the opportunity I wouldn't have sex with any of those people. Thank you, but no thank you, I'd rather just imagine it than physically participate in the act with them.

(Ok I might go down on them, but that's less about wanting sex, and more about being able to add them to my Tally. Hell yeah I want to brag about making *insert hot person* have an orgasm. There's PRIDE in that kind of accomplishment lol)

I have a lot of respect for aces that are not horny. I understand it even if I don't share the sentiment. And I feel like most of them understand me even if they don't share the sentiment. There's a solidarity between us.

Until I go into a fandom tag for a character that the aces have glommed onto because they're canonically ace or headcanoned as ace. Good lord, the non-horny aces can turn into downright vicious bastards if a horny ace sexualizes their blorbo.

This post is for them.

Horny aces exist. Please look up "autochorissexual, lithosexual, and aegosexual."

Refer to those definitions in regards to romantic attraction as well as sexual attraction.

Some aces may not fall into one of those definitions, because asexuality is a spectrum, but they may still be horny.

Horny aces are not disrespecting you by enjoying being horny on main. We promise we'll wash the stickiness off our hands before we hold your hands in queer solidarity.

And most importantly: Your blorbo is fictional and does not need to be defended from icky sexuality. They exist in an infinite multiverse, so your blorbo and my blorbo are not the same, even if they appear to be on the surface.

AND:

This post is also for the people who are confused about themselves because they're horny but don't actually feel attraction. You're not crazy, you're not wishy washy, you're not "waiting for the right person to come along" (unless you are, in which case I hope you find them). You're just a thin strip of color on a massive rainbow that holds more unique shades than anyone can perceive at a glance.

You're valid. You're one of us too.

And don't be mean to the non-horny aces. Tag your smut so they can avoid it. (But actually so I can find it lol)

[partiallysame]

Okay okay, I LOVEE your writing. & I was wondering if you could work your magic for a little idea I had. Hear me out fem nanny x John price .

Price divorced dad of an infant hires a nanny to watch over sweet little baby thing while he's overseas but comes home early in the middle of the night without notice, ☀️ nanny hears footsteps in the house and in a frantic rush grabs a weapon and hides the baby & herself 😭 idk why I need this but I need to know how John reacts

I hope you like it!!!

John Price x Nanny!reader

The last thing Captain John Price ever expected was a week old infant being dropped in his hands from a one night stand but here he was. The only thing that got him through it was you, his new nanny. You came highly recommended from a few different higher ups who had hired you to help their wives while they were away for long periods of time. Years of experience and too many references to count, John didn’t think twice about hiring you, especially after he saw how good you were with his tiny newborn daughter. He was scared to even touch the poor thing but you walked him through step by step how to care for his daughter. He had turned down a few different missions but this one he wasn’t allowed to say no to. Leaving his 6 week old daughter for two months was not what he wanted to do but he trusted you, and was overjoyed when he was able to return home a week early.

The first sign that panicked you was the neighbor’s dogs barking. You’ve been living in this house for almost 4 months now and have never once heard them bark. Then the security lights in the front of the house lit up and you could hear the doorknob rattling. Fuck. You could feel the pit in your stomach growing, something’s wrong. Reaching under the bed to pull out a hunting knife you had found one day putting away laundry. You really shouldn’t have been surprised when you kept finding hidden weapons in a military captain’s house. Knife in hand you made your way to the room next to you, to grab the baby. The creak of the front door opening sent you into full fight or flight. Hearing the heavy steps at the bottom of the stairs, you quickly grabbed the sleeping infant. “We’re gonna play a lil game of hide and seek ok?” you quietly whispered to her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead as you peaked out her bedroom door to make sure the hallway was clear before making your way to the large closet in the master bedroom. The only closet with a lock on it. You could hear the footsteps get closer, your heartrate picking up as you locked the two of you in the closet. Holding the sweet baby tight to your chest.  

Now John began to panic when he went to check on his daughter and she wasn’t there. His feet started moving faster to find your room empty too, a glass of water spilled on the floor, one you hadn’t even realized you had knocked over in your rush out of the room. But what really sent him into a frenzy was the small stuffed bear on the floor in the hallway. The one his baby girl never let go of and would not sleep without. The Captain pulled his gun out and began clearing rooms looking for you two.

As you heard doors begin slamming and the noises of the intruder growing louder you placed the sleeping infant behind a few boxes, out of sight, before standing in front of her and facing the door. The doorknob twisted a few times, the intruder trying to get in, one hand covered your mouth to keep from screaming while the other had a white knuckle grip on the large knife. Suddenly the door flew open, Price kicking it down. You twisted the knife around in your hand, bringing both hands up ready to fight for yours and the child’s life. All you could see was the silhouette of a large man with a gun. The light on in the room behind him, keeping his face dark and identity hidden. Price began to lower his gun, seeing it was you and you started to lunge towards him, knife swinging. He easily dodged and removed the knife from your hands.

“Hey hey y/n. It's me. It's John. You're safe.” You almost didn’t hear him from how hard you had been breathing. His hand went to turn the light in the closet on so he was visible to you. He stood there watching you for a moment, chest heaving and hands still in fists as the adrenaline started to wear off.

“What the fuck John?” He didn’t answer.

“Where’s my daughter?” 

“She’s safe” You stepped to the side and moved the boxes you had hidden her behind. John watched you amazed as you revealed his still sleeping daughter all wrapped up in a blanket, safe and sound. Reaching down to hold his tiny girl in his big hands he couldn’t help but look at you. Your hands shaking, eyes full of fear starting to return to normal. He knew he trusted you with his daughter but now? He’d never let anyone else near her. You were ready to fight a fucking home invader and honestly if it wasn’t him who opened the door, he was pretty sure you would have been successful with the knife in your hand. He’s looking at you, standing in your pajamas, hair messy from sleeping and he’s thinking he doesn’t ever want to be without you.

[planetaryupscaled]

Dirty Laundry

Male Reader x Anna

Tags: 22k, smut, cheating, oral, roleplay, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

Another shift was finally over, and now I was filthy and hungry from all the dirty boxes that I had lifted. I used to clock out exhausted from all the strenuous work, but lately I’ve been feeling more—worn out.

I’d been working for a couple years to get me through college, as the early morning hours coordinated well with my classes. Being in the midst of summer break however, my schedule was more flexible, so I headed straight home.

I was greeted by a bright sunny, 'Good morning!' the moment I stepped into the apartment, bouncing my way from down the hall. It was my roommate Anna, who was often just waking up when I came home from work.

Anna was an ex-girlfriend, but after too many fights and a hundred petty differences, I was thrilled to call her ‘just a friend’, and somehow, my roommate.

As the lease ran out on my previous place, I was desperate for a quick renter to help with expenses. Anna happened to be searching as well, and suggested we split a place together seeing as how we both had steady partners. It seemed ridiculous at the time, but the fact that we were otherwise attached was the only reason we had even considered it.

Anna was definitely a great friend though, and we got along better when we weren’t emotionally involved; I had to figure there was a chance we could make it work. We each assured our significant other the arrangement would be totally platonic, despite our history, and that we just needed a good living solution for a while.

My girlfriend Minji, who lived and worked outside of town, was hardly thrilled in the slightest. The girls knew each other from school, and didn’t really see eye to eye. Minji actually warned me if I ever hooked up with Anna while we were living together, she’d have me hunted down. She wasn’t joking.

But with that said, we moved in.

It actually worked out well as we got settled. Anna worked in the afternoon and went out with her friends or boyfriend after work. I would hit the bed early in the evening and was up early in the morning. The only time we even saw each other was on the weekends, or early on summer mornings.

-

“What smells so good?” I called down the hall.

“I’m making breakfast,” Anna shouted back, “I’m glad you came home.”

“Well I’m starving, thanks for cooking!”

I set my things down in the hall and considered a quick shower. I was excessively grungy, and I’d typically hop right in after walking through the door.

“You’re welcome, and it’s almost ready so don’t shower,” she said.

I walked into the living room and sat on the couch, flipping on the small TV and rambling through some channels.

Anna padded out in her bare feet and a long baggy T-shirt, flopping down next to me on the couch. “So how was work?” she asked, looking clean and fresh, especially compared to me. Her long brown hair was damp and smelled like flowers. She pulled her bare legs up underneath her and looked at me for a reply.

“Same as usual,” I sighed. “Jimin asked if I wanted to jam with him this weekend, so I think I’m heading over there tonight.”

“Sounds cool,” she said, “What does he play?”

“I hear he has a pretty impressive drum kit,” I said, getting excited thinking about playing it again.

“You’re kidding, that’s amazing!” she said, placing a hand on my leg with her eyes wide.

I felt a little awkward as her hand stayed on my leg for longer than it seems. I didn’t think much of it really; Anna was just a touchy person. That was how she talked to people, and I was well aware of it.

I glanced down at her hand, which she moved a little to let me know she realized it was there. My eyes also registered the fact she wasn’t wearing much under her shirt, as her bare leg kept going as it crossed underneath her body.

Anna was hardly self-conscious and could be pretty casual around the apartment. She would often take advantage of having a roommate she knew had seen her in all her glory, and would forget certain civilities she’d typically have in place for anyone else. In the mornings she knew it was just us, a couple of good friends who could hang out in whatever they happened to be comfortable in.

“I’ll need to grab some new strings and fix my car if I’m going to play with them this weekend,” I said, trying to keep my eyes to myself.

Working at the warehouse store was like an intense exercise every day, so my blood was warmed and my skin was sensitive to every input. The strange combination of her soft hand on my thigh and the sight of her smooth bare legs started getting to me.

“Where are you going then?” Anna asked, completely unaware of my racing mind, “to play I mean.”

“He lives on campus,” I half gulped, “just down from fraternity row. They soundproofed the walls in the basement so we should be able to get pretty loud.”

She rolled her eyes at that one. Anna wasn’t a fan of rock music, and constantly mocked my tastes. Not that I didn’t give it right back. Our little conversations always gave us gentle reminders of why we were just friends, and never fared well as a couple.

She finally withdrew her hand and crossed her arms next to me and looked at the TV.

“The breakfast should be just about done,” Anna said with a hint of pride to her voice, “I sure hope you’re hungry…”

I looked down at myself and shuddered at how much dirtier I got with all the sweating and lifting we did at work. I was amazed again at the stunning contrast of Anna’s clean shirt and smooth legs right up next to my grunginess. Glancing down, I noticed something else.

Once Anna had folded her arms, the lowest edge of her shirt rode up and I could see more of her hip, like, all of it, and it was completely bare! Now I had to wonder if she was sitting next to me without anything on under there. The thought really got to me because, even for her, that was a little much.

She kept talking but I stopped listening. My jeans were getting tight and I felt my throat drying up. I knew I’d seen it all from her a thousand times, but there was something about the morning sun and my sore muscles that made it that much more sensual.

I was sure she thought nothing of it. I mean, I know she was well aware she was sitting next to me in just a T-shirt, but to her it didn’t mean anything. Anna was just padding around our place like it was home.

I felt bad for noticing and thinking it was sexy of her to sit around with no underwear on. My girlfriend Minji was gorgeous, but definitely not as open about her assets as Anna had always been. I started to smile on the inside, thinking I was pretty lucky to have such a carefree spirit for a roommate, and one who even cooked breakfast.

The timer rang over the oven, to which she placed her hand on my thigh again to boost herself up. I followed her with my eyes, and the shirt fell quickly into place, covering everything I thought I had seen.

I tried desperately to get her near-nakedness out of my head by staring at the television, but I couldn’t do it. I was feeling strange and inappropriate, wanting to hit the shower to get my mind off of her, but it was too late.

“Oh, you’re going to like this,” Anna sang from the kitchen. “Come take a look!”

I hopped up easily, like one does after an extensive workout, and strode into the kitchen. I felt ten feet tall as I stood next to her petite form, she waved her hand over the shallow pan of molten food, wafting enchanting smells in my direction.

There was definitely bacon, eggs, maybe some hash browns and something else I couldn’t quite place buried in that dish of pure succulence. It was a breakfast buffet in a single pan, I was so hungry I could have kissed her for joy.

Anna put a couple cooling stands on the kitchen table and leaned over to set down the steaming pan. As she did, the neck of her shirt dropped silently away and my eyes wandered in without thinking. Sure enough, she wasn’t wearing a stitch of god damn clothing under there, her breasts hung naked off her chest, and a little tuft of curly fur was peeking up just beyond them, barely visible from deep inside that damn teasing shirt.

It was gone in a flash as she straightened and turned toward the oven, but man, my heart was racing.

My fingers shook as I picked up a spatula and started cutting sections from the dish as Anna brought us some clean plates and forks.

“Wow this smells insane,” I honestly groaned in admiration of her cooking prowess, while simultaneously trying to keep my mind off some of her other admirable qualities.

“Thanks!” she beamed as she sat down across from me, watching as I dished us both a plate, “you know how to make a girl feel appreciated.”

She stared at my hands as I pulled the succulent concoction from the pan. The mystery ingredient was definitely cheese, and it stretched from the pan to the plate like a rubbery web.

I pushed a piping plateful across the table to her and began a sizeable portion for myself. Once my plate was towering with food, Anna smiled a satisfied grin and took her first bite. I knew she liked it when I filled my plate; it meant I was really looking forward to her homemade cooking.

I sat down and started immediately digging in.

“Mmmm, this is incrwdbw!” I mumbled across a mouth full of delicious food just before I swallowed. “Where did you learn to make this?” I asked, pulling another heaping forkful into my ravenous maw.

“Mom used to feed everyone before swing choir practice,” she said as she swallowed a more human-sized bite. “We’d all meet around six and eat this same breakfast dish before heading out in the morning.”

“Sounds like a good memory,” I said honestly, wiping some cheese from my chin with a napkin.

“A great memory, actually,” she beamed, half in remembrance and half proud of recreating another one of her mother’s fine dishes.

“She really knew how to cook, didn’t she?” I asked, poised to down another fork full of deliciousness.

“She was the best,” Anna replied with a positive light to her voice, “I’m so happy I get to cook for us every once in a while. Minho doesn’t really appreciate it that much.”

Anna’s boyfriend was an okay guy and he was actually a decent looking guy. He would come to our place only on rare occasions. Since Anna worked near where he works, they would often stay out, and as a result I rarely saw them together. Maybe he didn’t feel comfortable coming over with me around, or maybe they just enjoyed going out all the time.

“You know he can come over any time,” I said, swallowing another mouthful of nourishment, “I’m happy to find other places to keep myself amused if you need some time together here.”

“I know, and you’ve always been great about that,” she said, “he’s just never keen on the idea of coming over. He never says why… or at least he has a good reason every time it comes up.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up,” I tried to change the subject, “I for one — count myself lucky to be the primary recipient of your fantabulous cheffery!” Anna chuckled at that and we made small talk as we ate, drinking coffee as we did.

After we finished, I rose with my empty plate and contemplated filling it again; I felt like I could eat forever. I left it alone though and grabbed the pan, bringing it to the counter to cool before packing it away.

“Thank you for cleaning up,” she said over her cup of coffee. I turned to look, and from the side her shirt had pulled up casually around her waist again, like a T-shirt normally does. The way it was sitting on her legs made it very apparent she was indeed bottomless, sitting there with her bare butt right on the chair. She wasn’t looking at me, just sipping at her coffee and staring ahead.

I wanted to capture that moment, as it was pretty dirty in my own head. I knew she appreciated my tact about her casual demeanour, so I played it off as if it were the most normal meal we’d ever shared.

-

We definitely shared a lot over the years, and as we got older, our tastes drifted and our goals and dreams became canyons apart. Even though I always had a soft spot in my heart for Anna, I knew it would never work out for us in the long run.

She loved action and change, moving with the pace of the world. Nothing stayed in her mind’s eye for very long before she was off to the next shiny thing. She had always been that way, and it drove me crazy.

Me on the other hand, could rarely find something that even sparked my interest, but once I did, I’d dive into it head first. I loved to read, exploring ideas and subjects thoroughly when I found something fascinating. Anna was one of those fascinating subjects — once, and I knew everything about her. What her favorite musical number was, or who her favorite authors were.

We both realized we would never work together, but I had also been her go-to for sex between relationships as well. I rarely had a steady girl during those times, but I always welcomed her into my bed when a friendly visit turned intimate.

Sex with Anna always seemed to begin as a subtle game during our relationship and afterward. For example, she would stop by to discuss something ‘important’; then eventually she would have to show me the new bra she had purchased, or something just as signaling. She would casually lift her shirt to show off her bulging cups, and I would softly touch along their surface, appreciating the fine ‘quality of fabric’.

“It feels like it’d be very comfortable in there,” I would say, “the material is so smooth.”

“This is definitely the best one I own,” Anna would say, trying to keep on subject, “I mean you can’t even see my nipples through this one.” She would press her finger right there and push in a couple times, rubbing in a small circle where her nipple would be. Then she would drop her hand and wait expectantly for me to see what she meant.

“No, you sure can’t,” I’d say with my finger pressing in, “Are they hard?”

“A little I think,” she’d reply, “I guess I haven’t really tested them that far.”

So then I’d tease her nipple through the soft pad and pinch it a couple times to see if I could put it through the paces. I took my time with it, making sure I was really giving it the old boy scout try, while Anna just sat and watched my fingers press and pinch and squeeze and rub against her encapsulated breast.

“I still don’t see any nipple through there,” I would say after a time, “either this is one sturdy bra, or it’s not even hard.”

“Oh it’s hard,” she would reply, “see?” and with that she would pull her cup down and show me the knotted red nose on the face of her lovely naked breast. I would of course reach up and test it for hardness by tweaking it a little and looking intently while I did.

“Wow, I see what you mean,” I’d say and start to toy with it a little more softly in my fingers. As I concentrated on the bare button, she would pull the other cup down to show me how both her nipples were actually hard. I would pay equal attention to both, tweaking and pinching her stiff buds in appreciation.

When she stopped talking altogether and just breathed under my petting hands, I would slowly lean in and take a sweet nipple into my mouth. I wouldn’t lick it, I wouldn’t suck on it, I’d just leave her tender tip inside my mouth as I caressed the soft sexy skin around it with my hands.

At this point Anna would reach back and undo her bra completely, making some excuse for it like, “it even releases nicely without snapping back.” Not even she cared about that.

“Mmmm,” is all I would say around her wet nipple, sucking as much of her naked tit into my mouth as I could possibly fit.

At that point we were definitely going to be having sex, and very quickly she would just pull me up for a long sensuous kiss while we worked on shedding our clothes.

Sex with Anna was always fantastic, and I think she liked having it as often as any man. Her tastes were a little risqué, but not overly kinky. She liked to play games in the bedroom, and I always found it to be highly stimulating to say the least. She would willingly trade oral favors, and always had an orgasm during our little trysts, sometimes many.

I could continually depend on memories of our encounters to get me erect if I needed something hot to think about on a solitary bout. Having living together with Anna was a constant reminder of these times for sure, but we had also spent so many periods of being strictly friends with zero benefits, it was easy to see her as just a great friend as well.

-

I couldn’t help but wonder this morning whether she was just being extremely casual or if she was seeing what I would do if she let it hang out a little in front of me. Probably the former; it was more than likely I was just worked up.

“Okay, now I really need to take a shower,” I said.

“Yes you do,” she said, “I haven’t seen you looking that dirty in a long time.” She sipped her coffee while looking me in the eye and winked.

Now she was toying with me. I had to get out of there before I did something stupid, like saying what came out of my mouth next…

“Yeah, I keep forgetting how dirty you’ve seen me get,” I said as I walked out of the kitchen and headed down the hall. I knew for a fact I would get a snappy reply, and her predictable nature shone through like a beacon as I heard her call after me.

“I seem to recall you having a thing for getting pretty dirty for a while there.”

“You know me well Anna!” I called back as I closed my bedroom door firmly. I chuckled to myself. I really liked the playful banter we always shared. Too bad it always had to end up in some kind of crazy dramatic bullshit whenever we got together.

I put on some music and started to peel the thin layers of grimy work clothes off my body. It felt so good to be free of them after a long sweaty morning of lifting dirty boxes. I grabbed a clean towel from the dresser and headed out to the bathroom.

I hurried past Anna’s room in my underwear, as I noticed she was back in there again. She was across the room digging through a pile of clothes on her closet floor. She was bent at the waist with her feet apart, and as I walked by, I swear I saw her full naked butt sticking out.

I stopped dead in my tracks past her door and leaned my head back to see around the frame again.

Whoa… that was intense! Her creamy calves and thighs were full length on display as her shirt was covering none of it. I could almost see her lips between her bare ass cheeks, and as I looked harder, I noticed her shirt had actually slipped to her shoulders, her pale naked breasts hanging free and upside down.

She was clearly searching for something and I dared not linger, staring at my platonic roommate in all her exposed glory. I made my way quickly to the bathroom and closed the door behind me.

Holy shit, that was something else, Again I knew I had seen this girl a thousand ways, but that wasn’t one of them. I couldn’t get the image out of my head.

I climbed in and started the water running. The vision of Anna bent at the waist was burned in my mind, and I started getting hard; very, very hard. I wanted badly to take care of it right away, but I just couldn’t do that with her right across the hall.

It quickly occurred to me that since my bedroom door was closed, it also made a distinct noise when I popped it open. It also occurred to me that even though Anna looked to be very concentrated on her task of digging for clothes, she must have been keenly aware she was basically bent over nude as my door popped open, right?

Is she wanted me to see her like that? She might have even set it up to be in that compromising position as I walked by, hoping, no… knowing I would catch her.

It wasn’t looking good for me. I knew how weak willed I got around women, and so did she. What I wasn’t sure of was whether she was just playing or if she was seriously trying to get with me.

I thought about it while I showered and came up with a quick idea to find out.

-

“Hey An, can I borrow you for a second?” I called out from the running shower.

I heard the door open and saw a blurry head through the smoked glass door appear. “What is it? I’m trying to get my laundry together,” she told me.

“Well, you don’t have to do this, but I could use a little help.”

She entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

“Okay, well what is it?” Anna said simply.

“It’s kind of weird. I totally wouldn’t ask if I could think of anything else,”

“You can ask me anything, I don’t mind. Do you need help with your hard-on or something,” she teased.

“Ha, you wish!” I teased back, “I just need you to scrub my back really hard with this loofa. After working out so much in the dense heat every day, my back is drying up and it’s driving me crazy. I have no way to get to it. I know it’s weird and all, and you can wait until I’m out of the shower if you want.”

“Don’t be dumb,” she replied, “You need some good soap and probably an exfoliating scrub for that. Hold on.”

I listened intently as she started digging around in one of the overflowing drawers of her beauty supplies.

“What are you doing?” I asked, trying to sound annoyed.

“I told you I need my exfoliating scrub,” she replied.

“I don’t need any of your lady potions, I just need a good chunk of tree bark or something.”

“Ha ha Mr. Funny Guy,” she snorted, “this isn’t a potion, it’s a scrub that’s full of emulsifiers for removing dead skin.”

“What the hell is even emulsifier?”

“Jeez, it’s like liquid soap with sand in it. It’ll really scrape at your back,” she said in a huff.

“Oh, that sounds okay,” I said, “Should I just sit on the edge so you can foliate my back?”

“Ex-foliate.”

“Whatever.”

I turned off the water and cautiously slid the door open. Anna was standing there with a shiny white tube of something in her hand. She waved it at me and gave me a “Well?” look. I opened the door wider and kept my body behind the protective cover of the glass, laying a wash cloth over the sharp door track.

“Good idea,” Anna said, “hand me your loofa.”

I reached my hand out with the spongy ball, and then turned around and sat on the edge of the tub with my back facing out.

“Wow, you really do need this don’t you? Poor guy,” she said as she inspected my exposed back with her light touch. She dragged her fingers up and down my rough and peeling skin, which had honestly been driving me insane.

“You aren’t going to be looking at anything else are you,” I asked with a wry twist.

“Just your back,” she quipped at me, “and anything else you might leave hanging out.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” I shot back.

I heard the sink turn on behind me and the water splashing around. Then Anna returned with a wet loofa dripping down my back.

“Let me get some of this on you first,” she said, completely business-like.

I felt the first squeeze of cream drip out onto my upper back and then she spread it around, working its way down to my lower back. It was thick and felt like peanut butter.

“There, that should be plenty, now this might hurt a little,” she warned and started dragging the scratchy cream around on my back, starting between my shoulders. It was very abrasive, and the way she moved the loofa I could tell she was adept at using this type of product effectively on dry skin.

At one point I felt a hand resting on my lower back while the loofa in her other hand worked its magic.

“How’s that, does it hurt?” Anna asked.

“Not really, but I can definitely tell it’s working,” I said, trying to keep my balance on the edge of the tub.

“Well, this should really peel that junk off of there for you,” she added putting her back into it.

“Thanks for doing this,” I said.

“Oh please,” she said as she pushed downward using two hands now, “It’s nothing, now lean forward a little.”

I leaned over and felt her hands rubbing the lotion around on my back without the loofa now.

“This should sit for a minute before we scrub it out,” she mentioned, and then she chirped, “Oh shit!”

“What?”

“I got it all over my shirt,” she said.

“Well rinse it out,” I suggested.

“No, I’d have to take my shirt off,” she feigned, “and I would be topless.”

“Why, aren’t you wearing a bra?” I slyly asked.

“Well, if you must know… I’m not.”

“What!? Well, I don’t think you should be in here like that. In fact, maybe you should just leave; I’ll take care of it.”

“Please, like I’m that much of a prude I wouldn’t pull my boobs out in front of you,” she proudly stated, “There’s nothing here you haven’t seen before.”

“True. Go ahead then, I don’t mind.”

“Well, there’s something else,” she muttered.

“There is?”

“Yes...”

“Well?”

“I’m actually only wearing this shirt,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What!? So you’re naked under there?”

“It’s just that I’m out of clean everything and I’m getting ready to do the laundry just now,” she quickly explained.

“Well, I guess that is a little much,” I resolved, “that’s okay An, I’ll take it from here.”

“What if you promised not to look,” she suggested.

“I could do that, I guess,” I said, “This is just between us then? I wouldn’t want your boyfriend getting all pissed that his girlfriend was giving me a naked back scrub.”

“Please,” she retorted, “He gets hugs and shoulder rubs and who knows what else from the groupies that are always climbing all over him. I wouldn’t care if he did find out. What about M-i-n-j-i?” she sang her name out like a child.

“Minji is Minji I guess. I’m not sure what’s going on there,” I revealed honestly, “I mean I’ve been giving it a try, but I’m not really expecting much.” While I was talking, I heard what sounded like a piece of clothing coming off.

“An?”

“What.”

“Are you naked?”

“Yes~,” she replied with a familiar hint of playfulness to her voice, “now don’t get all excited, this is strictly business and just between friends.”

Yeah right. I knew better, and her dander was definitely up at this turn of events. I stayed leaned over looking at my feet in the tub while I heard her rinsing out her shirt in the sink. When she was done, she came back and rubbed her hands into the lotion on my back.

“Oh, that’s definitely working, just a little more,” she said as she placed a hand on my shoulder. “So not expecting much huh? That doesn’t sound promising.”

“I know, and it seemed so good at first,” I said, trying to keep my mind away from the fact that Anna was standing behind me, completely nude.

“I could tell she was no good for you...” she stopped, quickly correcting herself, “I mean — what I meant was, she doesn’t deserve someone like you.”

I could feel her leaning a little closer, with her hand still on my shoulder. Something, a bare hip perhaps was up against my back. She started rubbing my shoulder and stammering on.

“You need someone who will be there for you a hundred percent,” she was absentmindedly stroking my neck now. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you’ve already moved on, in your head at least.”

“That could be,” I agreed, “I’m just never sure in these situations. I just seem to get caught up for too long.”

She let go of my shoulder and moved back to the sink to add some water to the loofa. When she came back, I felt the water dripping down my back and onto the washcloth under.

“I know you do,” Anna said as she started scrubbing my back again with both hands, “You seem to be unable to have an uncomfortable conversation when you need to. You just have to level with Minji about where the relationship is going; seriously.”

Her vertical scrubbing turned into quick swirling circles on my back.

“I know, there’s just never a good time,” I confessed, “we’re always around other people. When we’re finally alone I’m too exhausted from having been up so early that I have just enough energy to, well…”

“Have sex?” she blurted out, “I know what you do, I can hear you two going at it in there.” One of her hands left the loofa and rubbed my bare skin on its own while she continued to drag this out. My back was clearly exfoliated by now.

“You can?” I asked, “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, “We’re roommates, that how it goes sometimes. Just turn up your music a little louder next time.”

My face burned and I chuckled, “Okay, I’ll try to remember.”

Then Anna was done with my back and said, “That should do it. Now stand up while I rinse this out. I need soap in here next to get that scrub off.”

She turned to the sink behind her and I took that opportunity to get my naked body behind the screen. My erection wasn’t full or anything, but I still wanted to keep this game going. It was kind of fun to see how far we could push it.

“Okay, you’re going to have to rinse this,” she said, “The sink isn’t getting the lotion out.”

I turned the water back on and put my hand outside the door for the loofa. She placed it in my hand and I could see the cloudy silhouette of her naked body behind the glass. I ran the loofa under the stream of water and turned the dial head to massage. That was working, but also spraying water out the open sliding door.

“Hey!” she started, “You’re getting me all wet out here.”

“Sorry,” I said over the sound of the water as I finished.

“Now put some body wash on there and hand it back,” she said.

I squirted a good amount of wash onto the loofa and worked it into a frothy lather. I held it in front of the open door, but inside the shower.

“Perfect,” Anna said grabbing the soapy implement from my hand, “Now back over to me so I can reach.”

Tentatively I turned to face away from the door and backed over to it, knowing full well that she could see my naked butt as plain as day now. I decided to stay a bit into the shower so she would need to reach for it.

She quickly began to soap up my back and remove the thick lotion without saying a word.

“Ah,” she said frustrated, “the water’s spraying all over the floor, back up would you?”

I took a step back to the door and then she started really soaping up my entire back. It felt so good and she was so gentle. Her soft hands roamed all over my back and started getting most of my sides and then easing gently down my back. Shivers ran up my arms. The smooth soapy strokes were getting to me and I could feel myself getting harder underneath the spray of the showerhead.

She soaped my back and set both hands on my hips for a moment.

“Are you finished back there,” I asked, seemingly impatient, “I’m standing here naked you know.”

“So am I,” she came back, “in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten” I replied, “I am well aware that we’re both totally naked in here now. Can I rinse off?”

“Yep, all done,” she said handing the loofa around my waist, “that wasn’t so hard was it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I said, turning to the side to rinse off my back, showing clearly the erection she had caused with her soapy lathering.

“Whoa!” she announced, “you’ve got a hard-on!”

“No kidding, you were really soaping me up back there,” I said through the water spray with my eyes closed. I knew if I stood in the spray, it would allow her plenty of time to get a good look at my mostly erect cock.

“Oh, uh sorry about that,” she said, still lingering naked in front of the open door to the shower, “I didn’t realize it was having that… effect.”

“That’s okay, I’ll just take care of it myself once you’re gone. Thanks again!”

“Ew, all over the shower?” she acted very offended.

“No, not all over the shower,” I retorted from under the spray, “I just cum in my hands, and then I run it through my hair for extra lotion.”

“Yeah right,” she said, knowing I was teasing her, “I don’t think so.”

I peered quickly over at her and her eyes were glued to my cock, making it swell even more. Her eyes widened slightly. I peeked at her shapely breasts and bushy cleft through my watery squinted eyes. That wasn’t helping.

“So, tell me something An,” I said in a conversational tone.

“What?”

“Why are you checking out my cock?” I asked, looking her right in the eye.

“What?” she caught herself and stammered, “I wasn’t checking it out, I mean I didn’t mean to look, I was just… well you were standing there and I…”

“Haha, it’s okay,” I smiled and let my eyes wander unapologetically over her entire bare body. “I kind of like it. I mean, you’ve seen it all before too.”

“O-of course,” she said diverting her eyes and turning quickly to the face the sink. She caught my gaze again in the mirror however, and I let her see me look down to admire her naked ass in front of me.

“I know we’re playing with fire here,” I continued, “and I didn’t mean for it to get all weird. I just want you to know something.”

She turned back around to face me; I think her nipples were as tight as I’d ever seen them. “What?”

“This remains just between us, right?” I asked.

“Of course,” she replied, “what is it?”

“I want you to know that you can look whenever you want to,” I said seriously, ‘Any time we’re alone and you want to see, just let me know.’ At that I turned to face her, my hard cock standing straight out in front of me. “Is that too much for you?”

“W-what?” she stammered off-guardedly, glancing from my eyes to my cock and back. I definitely got her at her own game, if she had been playing one anyway.

“I mean it,” I continued, “You just say, ��let me see it’, and it’s out; just like this,” I said looking down. She looked at my wet cock again and there was a faint grinding of gears going on in her head. She looked up quickly.

“Okay, that’s just weird,” she said as she snapped out of it, putting her hands on her hips, “I’m going now, and leaving you with your hard-on, to do… whatever. Jeez!”

With that she grabbed her T-shirt from the sink and opened the bathroom door, stomping out of the steamy room.

I smiled wide to myself as I knew I got her, and also that she would absolutely bring it up again. That was the game, and she wouldn’t be able to let it go. Her mind would busily work on a plan for whatever reason. There was never any logic to her mind games, which is why our relationship never worked. I was too logical, and her little games only worked with me in the bedroom.

I finished washing up and didn’t feel the need to jerk myself off, I was too proud of my work. I dried off and strolled naked out of the bathroom with my towel over my shoulder to my room. Anna was nowhere to be seen, so I just closed the door and got dressed for the day.

-

I hadn’t seen Anna again that morning, and I assumed she was doing laundry as a way of avoiding me. I created an awkward rift between us and I knew it. I was okay with that, because I also knew she was very good at confronting an awkward situation once she knew how she would handle it. I couldn’t imagine what she’d come up with, but I did know she would escalate things rather than downplay them. What I didn’t know was why I even wanted that.

I headed out with my six-string in hand to the guitar shop and then to Jimin’s house to play some music, drink some beers and see where the weekend took us. I ended up having a great time with the guys, and crashed on their couch overnight on Friday. We played music all day on Saturday and got pretty loaded Saturday night. Having no desire to wake up in the same clothes again on Sunday, I grabbed a cab and made my way home.

I unlocked the apartment door to the sound of music and the smell of lemons. I knew immediately Anna was home and in cleaning mode. This was common on a Saturday night, as Minho would be working until about 1:00am.

I stumbled in feeling fairly inebriated and set my guitar case by the door.

“Hi,” I heard Anna call from the kitchen, “how was Jimin’s?”

“Hey,” I replied, rounding the corner to see her scrubbing the kitchen sink in her typical cleaning overalls and a hot pink T-shirt. “It was cool; those guys really know how to play. Who knew my classical training would actually come in handy one day?”

Anna was looking back at me occasionally over her shoulder while she continued to scrub. She dropped her sponge after a minute and rinsed her hands in the sink as I continued.

“In fact, I think we found a great style, combining Jimin’s technical drumming with my heavy riff… riffing… making, ness…”

“You’re drunk,” she said with a sly smirk as she looked me over, noticing the obvious impairment of my mental and motor skills.

“True,” I said, knowing she was well aware I would often stumble in as such on a Saturday night while she cleaned. It was getting to be a bit of a ritual. “What do we have to eat?”

She wiped her wet hands on a towel and opened the fridge, leaning inside. I liked her work overalls because they had holes in places that allowed me to see bits of skin peeking out. Even though it was mostly leg, there was something about it I found intriguing.

“I suppose you could make a sandwich,” she said, digging around in one of the drawers, “we have everything you need.”

A sandwich sounded perfect in my current state, and I walked up behind her and peered into the fridge over her shoulder.

“That shounds great,” I sort of slurred out, realizing I did as soon as it came out.

“Jeez you’re wasted,” she said as she stood up and turned to face me. Her nose came to about my chin as I looked down at her. I knew she had no sense of personal space, so her close proximity didn’t faze me as she looked up.

“I know,” I said, “I’m so ashamed.” I put my head down in mock despair.

“Yeah right,” she said with a gleam in her eye. I knew she loved having a position of power in a situation; and with me on the cusp of being actually drunk, she knew she could have fun with me. “Make your sandwich,” she said reaching up and tapping a row of dainty fingers against my cheek.

She stepped aside and picked up her cleaning gear again as I reached in and started gathering ingredients. I filled my arms, which in my current state was a struggle, and I thought I had it under control until a squeezable jar of mayo slipped from the bottom and crashed to the clean floor.

“Shit!” I exclaimed as I brought the rest of the foodstuff to the adjacent counter, stepping over the bottle.

“You fool,” Anna said as she came back by me to retrieve the fallen condiment from her freshly cleaned floor. “You’re lucky it didn’t break. Here.” She handed me the bottle and I thanked her sheepishly as I turned in my daze to fabricate of some semblance of a sandwich. I could feel her eyeing my every move, watching to see if I’d even be able to build one in my stupor.

“You better let me do it,” she said as she saw me struggling just to get the twist tie off of the bread bag. “I can’t even imagine what you’d end up with if I let you go wild in my clean kitchen with all this stuff.”

She held out her hand and I placed the bread in it, stepping to one side to watch her easily pull out a couple slices.

“Thanks An,” I said, blushing at my inability to function at simple tasks.

“That’s okay…” she said, “I don’t mind taking a break from cleaning our kitchen to make you a sandwich. Let’s just say you owe me one.”

“Of course, I’ll clean the next time,” I offered as a way to make myself useful sometime in the future. It was all I had.

“I like cleaning,” she replied, spreading the mayo across the face of the crusty white bread, “what else you got?”

I couldn’t really think straight, so I just went with, “I dunno, what do you want?”

She was silent for a moment, and then softly said, “Let me see it.”

“Huh?”

“Let me see it, you know,” she looked up into my eyes and then down to the front of my jeans. “You told me to just say the word, and now I am. Let me see it.”

I couldn’t believe she was using this night to get back at me so quickly. She had me mentally on my heels and I could hardly form a complete sentence. I must have looked like a deer caught in her headlights because she set the knife on the counter and turned right toward me, putting her hands on her hips.

“I mean it,” she said with the mischievous gleam she’d often get in her eyes, “Let me see it and I’ll finish your sandwich. You’re the one who put it out there, and I know you weren’t drunk when you said it. Let me see it.”

I was caught in my own web. I had been trying to get her to flinch in the bathroom the day before, and it worked. I really didn’t expect her to come back at me with my own teasing game and call me out in the kitchen the first chance she got.

She stared at me.

Fortunately, my inhibitions were down from the beers so I shrugged my shoulders and reached for my zipper. Anna’s eyes were on my hands, her raised eyebrows framing an expectant look as if she was waiting for me to get out money I owed her.

My pants were undone and my boxers were all that remained between her keen eyes and my naked cock. I knew I couldn’t get out of showing her, and it was a little different than when I did it in the bathroom. In there she was naked as well, and I had a hard-on which helped me to look more… notable. Now it was just my drunken cock on its own, for whatever end.

“Well?” she said, “I know you don’t need help here, Let’s see it.” She knew she had me, and I knew it too. I pulled the front of my boxers down and there it was. I wasn’t completely flaccid, thankfully, and my cock emerged as Anna’s eyes widened.

“Ah, there it is,” she said as she stood and stared at my stuff for few long seconds. “I have to admit, I thought you were full of shit yesterday, but you did it.” She pulled her eyes away, turned, and just continued with my sandwich. I stood there with my right thumb pulling my boxers down and my cock out for no real reason. I figured I did what I said I would, so I covered back up.

Anna started piling on cold cuts and said, “Minho is working extra late for whatever the thing they’re doing, so I’m hanging here tonight, is that cool?” Her eyes were on the sandwich.

“Sounds good to me,” I managed, zipping up my fly. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be of much company but we can hang out if you want.”

“Either way, I’m going to finish cleaning before I do anything,” she said as she folded the bread over, finishing the sandwich. “Here you go.”

She turned and handed me the plate with the scrumptious looking sustenance atop it. I took it from her and she kept my gaze.

“Thank you for showing me,” she said politely, “you have a very nice cock.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” I started, not sure what to say, and off my game completely, “any time.”

Any time? Did I just say that? I took my sandwich and sat down to eat while Anna continued tidying up in the kitchen. I watched her ass stretch against the thin overalls as she bent over to clean the cupboard doors under the counter. I was admiring the bits of thigh peeking out as always and my brain seemed to be fixated on her body as I ate.

She looked back, seeming to catch me staring at her and asked “How is it?”

“How is what?”

“The sandwich dummy,” she chuckled, “what did you think I meant?”

“Fantastic!” I blurted out, steamrolling right over her question, “I’ve never tasted anything so good.”

She smiled knowingly at me and turned around again to finish her work.

Eventually I finished eating and Anna had cleaned her way into the next room. I put my plate in the dishwasher and wandered into the living room where Anna was dusting. I stood there wondering if should sit; I couldn’t very well help, and she seemed to sense this and looked at me.

“Are you going to watch something?” she asked, carefully wiping the top of a lamp with a dirty cloth.

“I’m not sure,” I said, slightly swaying in place. “I feel like I should be helping.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, “You would do more harm than good. Besides, I like cleaning. It’s my Zen time, and you don’t have to feel guilty about letting me do it. Why don’t you go get comfortable and I’ll be done in here in a minute.”

It was a great suggestion and I nodded, turning my heel and making my way down the narrow corridor to my room. As I passed Anna’s room, I noticed that there was a pair of her panties on the floor right inside the door. This was quite typical, as oddly enough her bedroom always seemed to be the messiest room in the house, but it caused my mind to flash back to the image of her bending over and digging through her laundry. I started getting aroused again, and moved quickly into my room to escape the reminder.

Knowing Anna was busy, I didn’t close the door and just unbuttoned my shirt and pants, looking for my sweat shorts. I couldn’t find them so I just grabbed a T-shirt and threw it on. She had already seen my dick tonight; I should be fine in my boxers I figured.

I wandered back out and Anna was just finishing her dusting and putting away her things. She looked up at me, gave me a once over, and said, “Perfect, I’ll be back in a minute.”

With that she hoisted her cleaning products carrier up and made her way to the kitchen closet to tuck it away. I sat on the couch and found the remote on the gleaming coffee table. I was pretty lucky to actually live with someone who enjoyed cooking and cleaning. I would never ask her to do any of these things of course, being perfectly capable myself… well, sober anyway.

She walked past and down the hall to her room, and I flipped through the channel guide to see what was on. I found some documentary, and put it on to be funny, although it turned out to be quite interesting.

When Anna came out, she still wore the same pink shirt with short socks, and I couldn’t tell what else. It was probably either just her underwear or nothing again, as all I could see was leg to the hem of the long shirt which came to about mid-thigh.

“What the hell are you watching?” she said, sitting on the couch near me but comfortably distant. I was happy for the space as my cock started to harden as I pictured her naked again and smelled her sweet perfume settling over me.

“Just a documentary,” I said, trying not to stare at her bare legs. She reached over and flipped off the main lamp, and the TV lit up the darkened room.

“Give me that,” she said, holding out her hand. I handed her the remote with a smile, and her eyes met mine. They had a hint of mischief to them and she glanced down to my boxers. I looked down to see they were starting to tent and leaving little to the imagination.

I looked back up and she was already aiming the remote at the cable box and flipping through the channels. After a minute she finally stopped on an old movie and said, “Oh, here we go. Let me see it.”

“Sure, we can watch this,” I said, and then, “wait, what?”

“You heard me,” she said looking me in the eye as she set down the remote. “You said any time. Let me see it.” The look in her eyes was challenging.

I knew right then that I was paying dearly for my mistaken cockiness in the bathroom. I really didn’t think she would even take me up on my teasing offer, let alone rub my nose in it.

“Fine,” I gave in, having little resolve left anyway. I found the open front of my boxers and reached in, finding my naked cock in a semi-erect state. I pulled it through the opening and lay it out in my lap for her to see. “How’s that?”

“Very nice,” she said, eyeing up my growing cock. I was getting more aroused than I had hoped. “You seem to be kind of excited.”

I looked at my bulging cock, “It would seem so. Have you seen it now?”

“I don’t know,” she said with the sly and teasing tone I knew so well. “You could put him away, but I’ll probably just ask you again, so why don’t you just leave him out for a while to save us the trouble?”

Now she was playing with fire. She wanted to me just sit there and watch TV with her, my bare cock lying out the whole time!

“Are you serious right now?” I asked incredulously.

“Dead serious,” she looked me in the eye with a challenging stare.

“I’ll take my chances,” I muscled up my last remaining nerve and tucked my member back inside my shorts.

“Fine by me,” she said and looked back at the screen. We sat there for a while as the movie played, and honestly, I couldn’t have cared a wit about it. It was some black and white romance thing from the 50’s, and I just never got those. I watched it though, waiting nervously for what I knew was sure to come.

“I’ll let you change the channel if you show me again,” she said out of the blue after about ten minutes. I couldn’t believe she was being so bold, and I was the one who had opened this door, all because I saw her bent over with her ass sticking out.

“Jesus An, what’s with you tonight?” I had to ask.

“Show me, I don’t need to explain myself. If I want to see your cock you have to show me, so let’s see it.”

I was in deep shit now, and I could only respond by lifting my ass up and sliding my boxers down my hips and to my ankles. “There, happy?” I retorted as she openly turned to stare at my nude lower half.

“I guess,” she said simply. “Nice cock. Do you still stand behind what you said in the bathroom?”

Thanks to the sandwich I was able to think about that one. It was a little thrilling to be sitting there with my cock out around her. I knew that neither of us could breathe a word of this to anyone, but we were also adults. “I do.”

“I’m glad,” she said and handed me the remote, glancing down to my cock again. I took the controller and started to surf channels, stopping on a movie I knew we would both enjoy, and it had just started.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” she said, turning back to the screen. We watched for a few minutes, and then I saw her look at my lap again. She saw me notice and smiled sweetly. She was really getting off having my cock next to her to look at. My bulge had subsided, and I was a little happy for that, but not for long.

She must have noticed too, because she leaned back on the couch and pulled up a knee to her chest, allowing her t-shirt hem to drop down her thigh, exposing nothing but bare skin all the way to her naked ass cheek.

Fuck.

She had been sitting there again with a completely bare ass, and I had only just caught up when I dropped my boxers. The thought traveled instantly to my manhood and I felt it begin to inflate at a furious rate.

The little vixen! I saw her smirk and peek to the side to see if her little show had the intended effect, and of course it did. Now she really let me have it.

“Holy shit, are you getting hard right now??”

Damn you Anna. I pretended not to hear, or that I had no comment, and she continued to push me.

“What’s getting into you? I mean this movie isn’t that exciting, is it?”

“Did you just realize that I’m not wearing anything under here again? Is that it?” she added.

She knew it was. “My god, you’re totally hard, look at you! You really like knowing my pants are off don’t you? You’re so bad!”

“Me?” I finally said, “You were the one wearing almost nothing on Friday morning when I came home, and now?” I should have kept my fool mouth shut.

“Is that it? Is that what this was all about? Did I turn you on running around with just a shirt on in my own place? What were you thinking about my tits while you ate my home cooked breakfast?”

I was a little too annihilated to come up with a coherent response.

“You were!” a look of shock and accusation crossed her face as I looked away. “You can’t hide it! Is that why you called me into the bathroom? Did I get you all worked up?”

“You didn’t have to stay, or take your shirt off you know,” I was able to construct an intelligible sentence out of somewhere. My mind was still aware I was in hot shit.

“You liked that though, didn’t you? Did you get a good look?”

I didn’t want to fight with her sitting there with our pants off, so I tried to turn the tables. “Show me.”

“What!?”

“You heard me. Show me.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to say that. Only I do. That was your idea,” she squinted, her challenging eyes on me.

“I never said it was just for me to say, and it’s only fair. I’ve shown you, and now I’m totally out here. Don’t think you can handle the tension? Come on Anna… just show me.”

A slow and silent resolve crossed her face.

“Fine, just a peek,” was all she said, leaning back and dropping her foot to the floor. From there her legs slowly crept apart, the shirt still covering any view between her legs.

“I can’t see anything.”

She spread her legs wider, one of them touching my own as it moved. Her shirt crept higher until I could just see her curly little hairs and the protruding lips of her… pussy.

“Mmm, good girl,” I murmured in a cocky tone, and Anna instantly snapped her legs together.

I definitely recognized the telltale puffiness between her legs in my momentary glimpse, the shine of the television lighting her up. I’d seen Anna in this highly aroused state so many times. I knew how stimulating everything was to her once the heavy weight of arousal set in.

“Oh, you’re wearing panties,” l said, knowing full well she wasn’t, “I thought you weren’t.”

“I’m not, you dummy,” she said, her playful look telling me everything I needed to know. I sat silent for a minute, waiting patiently for her next move.

Slowly Anna parted her legs again, and the empty space between her bare thighs began to grow. This time she reached down and raised the edge of her shirt, clearly showing me her private fur in the process. She gently tilted her hips so her swollen lips puckered out clearly from underneath again.

“See,” she snorted, with as much of an act as she could muster. I knew her heat was rising. She loved the fact that my naked cock was right next to her and pumped full of steam. I was sure she knew she’d have me pull it out again, even while she was in her room changing. Her pussy was probably already soaking wet while she decided to come out in just a shirt.

Oh you horny little minx.

“Oh my god,” I said softly, ‘you’re serious.’ She let me stare between her legs for a minute, looking down there herself. “Look at that beautiful pussy,” I said, knowing compliments would keep it out a bit longer.

“Don’t get any ideas mister,” she said, keeping her eyes fixed on her own distended labia.

“Like what?” I asked with a hint of drawing her out in my voice.

“Like whatever ideas your hard-on is having there,” with that she turned her head and stared right at it. I looked at my cock and it was long and quivering with excitement.

“What, this hard-on?” I asked softly, wrapping my fingers around it and slowly pumping it up and down next to her.

Her mouth stopped working for a second as she watched me blatantly holding and stroking my naked cock in the bright glow of light. Her eyes were hooded and she seemed mesmerized by my movements.

Anna just watched in silence with her legs open, until her words finally appeared, “What are you doing?”

I didn’t answer, I just kept looking between her legs and slowly moving my cock up and down my erect shaft in the dim light.

“I can’t help it,” I finally whispered, “I’m too hard.”

She seemed to snap out of it, and slowly pulled her thighs back together until they touched in front of her. Her shirt was still up however, and the curly hairs between her legs formed a little brown shrub in the middle of her deep crevice.

“Well help it,” she said quietly and somewhat begrudgingly.

“Fine,” I said, and slowly backed my hand away. My bare hardness pulsed with anticipation and excitement, lightly swaying of its own accord in my pants less lap. She could hardly force herself to look away, but did so and crossed her legs, folding her arms under her obviously unencumbered breasts. Her pointy nipples were so hard that a mere t-shirt was hardly a challenge for their aggressive prodding.

I knew better than to make any additional comments or take further action, as just my throbbing cock out next to her was surely driving her deeper into her own perverted fantasies. What we were doing was completely wrong, and against everything we swore to when we agreed to be roommates. We hadn’t crossed any physical lines, except maybe for the naked back scrubbing in the shower… shit.

We were already way over the line. Even my own cock knew how close it was to being submerged in the slippery pocket between Anna’s legs.

I had to focus on the screen and forget about the blatant innuendo pulsing in both of our laps. We were horny, that was certain. I should have gotten up and walked away, but the tension was delicious. I loved that we were sitting together, bottomless, unable to act on what we both had in mind.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while as the movie played, until…

“God I wish we were single,” I admitted truthfully, but the fact remained… we weren’t.

“Why’s that,” she said with a curt but playful edge to her voice, “do you want to fuck me or something?”

I had to groan at her words, as she knew I loved hearing her say it out loud. I grabbed on my cock again and started squeezing it.

“Stop that,” she commanded.

“I can’t,”

“I just wanted to see it, not watch you fondle it,” she said, uncrossing her arms and pulling the hem of her t-shirt lower on her legs. “If I thought you’d be uncontrollable about this I would have gone to bed.”

“Sorry,” I said, stopping my motions and loosening my grip. The next move, I decided, was hers, and it took a while. After about couple of minutes, she finally looked at my cock again and I watched her eyes tracing it up and down.

“God… that looks so nice.” She said.

“It does?”

“Fuck. Of course it does!” she said as if I was crazy, “why else would I have you keep pulling it out? I miss what we had, a lot. No one else can compare, and for whatever reason sex was always great with us. Why do you think I kept coming back?”

“An easy lay?”

“Okay, that’s true, but it was more than that.”

She turned her body to face me, her arm and shoulder against the back of the couch.

“I always felt like I found my perfect fit with you,” she continued, looking me straight in the eye, “and everyone else gets compared, well… to this!” She gestured toward my protruding cock.

“But even though I would love to feel what we had again, I know it would only make things worse,” she admitted. “I was getting better, forgetting about what we had, but having you around all the time in such a personal environment… well, maybe it wasn’t such a great idea.”

“We both knew our torrid history An,” I said, turning to face her as well and letting my appendage lay where it may, “the odds were never in our favor.”

“I know,” she said, placing her hand on my arm, “and I think I liked it that way. I think I liked fantasizing about you more than I wanted to actually do anything about it, although right now I’m not so sure.”

Her eyes burned into mine with a fiery lust that made me want to push her backwards and let our bodies do what they were fully prepared to do.

“I know what you mean,” I said instead, trying to keep my ever-loving cool.

“Are you saying you fantasized about me!?” she asked with a playful twinkle.

“I don’t think I’ve ever stopped,” I admitted. “I know you too well. We’ve been together too many ways.”

Her eyes darted back and forth between mine. “What do you think about?”

I knew this was trouble. I was inebriated and logic was not my friend, and any fantasy I laid out could surely come back to bite me. Unfortunately, I was too turned on to care.

“Sometimes I think about the time we went to the park,” I revealed, “and how you wore those same overalls as tonight, a t-shirt and nothing else.” Her mouth twisted into a wicked grin.

“You had your hands in my pants the entire day,” she laughed, “I thought they were going to kick us out of there! Then, back in the hotel room, I bet his new girlfriend had no idea the kind of sex filled night she was in for when she agreed to come along.”

I laughed at that. “I tried to be sneaky, but you’re just too loud.”

She blushed and looked down, her gaze settling on my cock again. It was suddenly silent in the room as she stared at it.

“Gosh I want you so bad right now,” she said.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” I asked, knowing her twisted mind and the way it worked.

She looked up at me. “Yes.”

“My cock… sliding in… filling that empty space between your legs.”

All of our bedroom games came rushing back. I had forgotten them, forgotten how crazy in lust they made us, but in that instant it all came back.

“You asshole,” she whispered, not even close to being angry. The air was excruciatingly heavy with sexual tension and our breathing started to deepen.

“Take your shirt off,” I said, knowing she would. We both took ours off at the same time and sat together on the couch, the blue glow of the television reflecting across our newly bared skin.

“I love your tits,” I said in honest appreciation of them again, “but you really shouldn’t be showing them to me.”

“You asked for it,” she replied, grabbing a handful of her breast and lifting its weight up to me, her twisted bud aimed right between my eyes. My cock swelled, wishing we would just get it over with already.

“God, I want to taste you so badly right now,” I said, practically drooling down my chin over the sight of her bare breasts.

“You can’t,” she said, staring deep into my soul with her heat filled gaze, “I have a boyfriend.”

“Don’t remind me,” I said, turning directly toward her on the couch. We sat face to face, our bodies naked and exposed to each other in the flickering darkness.

“Tell me An… does he eat your pussy? I mean… the way you really like it?”

The heat in the room was insane as my question caused Anna’s legs to slowly part and her free hand to slide lower on her bare body, down to her unfolding sex. I watched her fingers spread her wet lips apart and find her clit, massaging it with slow deliberate circles. I almost bit off my tongue as I watched her touch herself in front of me.

“This pussy?” she teased as my eyes climbed between her legs and tried to get inside for a closer look.

“He tries, but no one really enjoys the taste of me as much as you did. Do you still remember?”

Fuck. Of course, I did. I was practically smelling it again with the heat she was giving off.

“You know how much I love… used to love, your pussy,” I corrected myself, “and I used to keep loving it until you had to push me off, remember?”

Anna moaned out loud this time, her fingers digging harder into her swollen lips, rubbing larger circles between her spreading legs. I looked into her ravenous stare and recognized a raw need.

“You want me to eat your pussy right now, don’t you?” I asked, “You want me to suck your little clit and push my tongue in there. Should I? Should I actually suck you off right here, An? Suck your wet pussy in my mouth until you explode all over our living room?”

We were back to our old games again, and as she leaned back on the couch; her naked body splayed before me with her legs wide open.

“God damn you,” Anna moaned. Her fingers were frantically masturbating her pussy with one hand and tugging a taut nipple with the other. “You’re really turning me on.”

“I can see that,” I said, staring at her blurring hand making swirly finger paintings across her pussy. “You used to like it when I’d watch you masturbate, didn’t you?”

“Fuck.”

“An, we can’t.”

“I know,” Anna groaned, pushing her body backwards to the other end of the couch and sitting up, her hand not exactly done wading through the rushing river between her legs.

“You’re evil, talking to me like that,” she said breathlessly, “your girlfriend probably wouldn’t like you talking about eating my pussy you know.” A smile crept across her face.

“No, she wouldn’t,” The realization of this fact having zero impact on the lust coursing through my body.

“Does she suck your cock,” Anna asked.

“Not like you did,” I admitted. “Your boyfriend must be a pretty lucky guy.”

“He is,” she said with a smirk, “but he definitely doesn’t react as well as you always did to having his dick in my mouth.”

Fuck. I remember how well Anna could keep me raging for hours while she toyed with my dick.

“You always knew how to keep me harder than I ever thought was possible.”

I leaned back and pushed my erection upward, I ran a finger up and down the side of my cock, watching her eyes follow my lazy touch.

“You should really put that away,” she said without a hint of seriousness in her voice as her eyes devoured in it.

“I might be tempted to put it in my mouth. What would your girlfriend say about that? Can she take you all the way like I can? Can she choke on your cock and still keep it buried while you cum down her throat?”

Definitely not. I was practically crying with the memory and realization.

“You better stop talking about sucking my cock,” I said with exasperation as I started stroking it in front of her leering gaze. “I might ask you to do it again, just for old time’s sake.”

I rose to a knee and pointed my dripping rod in her reclined direction.

“I wouldn’t do it,” she said with her hand mashing her pussy around, “I have a boyfriend.”

“So you keep saying,” I responded, “but you haven’t stopped playing with your pussy since you stripped naked in front of me.”

“True,” Anna said, making sure I saw her slowly ease two long fingers deep into herself. I stared in amazement. “Mmmm, god I’m soaked”

I love the way she tortured me.

“I bet you could get your whole cock in here in one… long… push. Would you like that?”

“More than anything,” I admitted, wondering how we had let ourselves get to this point.

“Well keep it together,” she said, pulling her fingers out and sucking them into her mouth one at a time, “we’re roommates now. No fucking.”

“How about sucking?” I asked hopefully.

“No sucking; and definitely no touching. We’re taken!”

“Damn,” I said, sitting back down on the couch and staring at her gorgeous body again. My mind was conflicted. We could probably get ourselves off with some mutual masturbation or something, but I didn’t think either of us wanted to end the night with an embarrassing mess on the couch, having to slink off to our separate rooms. I had to think.

“Okay, how about we cuddle?”

“Nice try, no touching.” Anna said, she seemed adamant all of the sudden.

“What if I just wanted to look?”

“Look all you want,” she replied, “Why? Do you like my body or something?”

“I love your beautiful body,” I said truthfully. “Your legs are smooth, and your hips are perfect.” I started leaning in her direction on the couch, closely inspecting the pale skin of her leg, careful not to touch.

“Easy there,” she warned, “no touching. My boyfriend doesn’t like me to lay with naked men you know.”

“I bet, but I can see why naked men would want to lay with you though. Your thighs are mouthwatering.” I said as I moved my head closer between her legs, my breath warming her inner thigh. “Anna, You smell like a flower,” I said, inching even closer, “and you look like a goddess with your legs open like this.”

As I pushed in closer, I could feel the heat coming from between her legs, and the permeating scent of her undeniable arousal was spinning my mind.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Anna warned, my mouth inching closer to her enchanting pool of liquid honey, “you shouldn’t have your face so close to my ugh… my…”

“Pussy?”

“Yes.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not yours,” she said, unconvincingly.

“Not mine to what?”

“Not yours to…”

“Lick?”

“Yes.”

“Suck?”

“You asshole.”

“Not mine to ravish until your body explodes from the soul splitting orgasm, I rip from your dripping wet cunt?”

Her hands flew up and pulled my head forcefully between her legs.

The next thing I knew my face was buried deep between the wide rubbery lips of my Anna’s wet soaking pussy. She couldn’t help herself. I knew for a fact she had to have it, and that I was the one who could give it to her the way she truly needed it. I plunged in face first with abandon.

Instantly she was gasping and writhing on my tongue, whimpering under the insistent pussy eating her body so desperately craved. I pushed a couple fingers inside and fucked her wet hole while I pulled her rigid clit into my mouth. I had forgotten how rapidly her arousal would build. I felt her orgasm coming already, so I pulled my fingers out and wrapped both arms around her thighs, locking my mouth over her twitching sex. And then…

“Anhh fuck…” She came, harder than I ever remembered.

For a good few minutes, she gasped for breath and clutched my head. She shook in convulsions and bucked her jerking pussy into my mouth. For a good few minutes, she came, unleashing every ounce of orgasmic energy she’d stored inside, squeezing the feeling right out of my head.

When it finally subsided, she lay back exhausted. I lifted my reddened face from between her strong thighs and watched her lovely tits heaving up and down.

“Tell me, does your boyfriend do that for you,” I mustered, trying to get a rise out of her again.

“Not... even... close,” she managed with a smile, struggling to drag her body up on the couch.

“Well, I guess you needed it then,” I said, rubbing my hands up between her thighs and back down. I sat back toward the opposite end of the couch to admire her splayed and panting body.

Suddenly, Anna was sitting up and quickly moving my way. I watched as her lips approached mine and hit with a force of passion I hadn’t experienced in forever. Our tongues burst from our mouths and tried to out-wrestle each other. I knew my face was covered in her essence, but that had never stopped her before. We kissed and made out passionately. I felt her hands running up and down my body, and I did the same to hers.

We were naked on our couch, consuming each other’s mouths. I felt her delicate fingers wrapping around cock, and she broke off our kiss, relishing in the tactile feel of it.

“God, I missed this,” she moaned as she started pulling the skin up and down my erection. The feeling was immediate, and I remembered how well she did even that, it was so natural. Anna knew my cock like no one did, and was reminding me of just how well as our hot tongues snaked together, again.

After a few minutes of manual ministrations, she pulled back.

“I hope your girlfriend doesn’t mind I’m sucking your cock tonight,” she lowly whispered as she kept stroking me. Her tongue reached out and licked my upper lip... my cheek... and my ear, her voice whispering through my veins.

“I’m going to suck your cock. I’m going to lick your balls. I’m going to push you so far down my throat that I’m about to cum again just thinking about it.”

I moaned as her tongue pushed into my ear and drove a sensation through my body, I never knew I missed so badly. I was going to cum myself if she kept lusting into my ear like that and milking my throbbing cock in her hand.

“Does she drag her tits all over you the way you like it,” Anna asked in the most seductive voice I ever remembered coming from her.

“Fuck no,” I swore under my breath, feeling the tender touch of her aroused buds tantalizing my bare skin. Up and down her nipples drew lazy lines of lust onto me, dragging across my bare skin. Her milky tits dragged down my chest, and before I knew it my platonic roommate’s hot breath was cascading over my cock.

“Ohh this is going too far. You have a boyfriend.”

Anna shook her head, staring at my pulsing hardness. “You’re the one who pulled it out,” she whispered, “reminding me how I used to like to kiss it.”

With that she lightly pressed her soft lips to the skin of my cock.

“How much I liked to lick it,” to which she dragged her tongue from the base of my twitching cock to the very tip, pushing shivers up my sides.

“How I much I liked to run my mouth along it, like this...”

I groaned as her lips parted and covered the underside of my cock. Anna’s mouth was so soft and tender, and when she stared sliding it up and down my length, I groaned outward into our living room. She slurped her way to the tip and suckled on the head for a minute, keeping me in her mouth as she nursed on it. She worked her way down to my balls, and took one and then the other in her mouth, and started the whole thing again. She wasn’t even sucking me.

Anna sat up a little and looked me in the eye.

“Does she let you cum in her mouth?”

I slowly shook my head, to which she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Would you like to cum in mine?”

I nodded, and slowly brought my hand up to her head and gently pulled it down. She simultaneously lifted my cock upright and wetly engulfed my entire cock into her warm and delicious opening. Her lips slid down my length like a tight ring, and my cock kept sliding in. I remembered how deep her mouth went, how my cock would keep going further than I ever thought possible. In I went, and once I eased past her loosened throat muscles I bottomed out, her lower lip nudging my balls. Oh my fucking god.

It was the most pleasure I’d had in forever, and the building intensity of the night instantly caught up with me. All at once my body flipped a release button and my ejaculating muscles started pumping hard, filling my body with the most intoxicating chemicals nature ever invented. Gush after glorious gush of pent-up seed erupted from the end of my buried cock and into the sweet and bottomless mouth of a naked Anna, right on our couch.

Fuck.

My body shook and shuddered, and she kept her head still, draining every drop of cum that leak from my creamy cock like it was nothing.

After the mind-blowing rush of my orgasm, she slowly pulled off of me, a loud pop and an inhale of breath sounding off like a clap. Her breathing was ragged, but her smile was one of pride. She came back up to me and laid her soft body on top of mine and we kissed again. This was nothing new, and the fresh cum in her mouth was barely noticeable as we shared a passionate embrace.

“What did you just do?” I asked incredulously.

“I sucked your cock,” Anna replied in a hungry whisper, “I swallowed your cum. I got you so horny you shot off in my mouth in like buckets!”

I smiled wide with the most satisfaction I had felt in many months.

“That you did.” I said.

I gently held Anna’s body again as she lay across me, her soft breasts piled on my chest. The round bare cheek beyond the small of her back was a familiar landscape for my fingers to graze.

“What are we doing?” Anna asked quietly, her nose brushing against my cheek.

“Not getting caught?” I ventured, saying what was surely on our minds.

“Yes, but why?” She laid her head next to mine. “Why is it so right between us?”

Her fingers twirled my hair and I felt her breath against my neck. “I am so comfortable here, just like this, with you.”

“We’ve been over it a million times,” I began, “and we just don’t work this well in the real world. We’re polar opposites... who happen to be really awesome in bed.”

“Don’t remind me,” she softly whispered.

We lay with each other in the darkish room, naked across our couch. My mind played movies of all the great times we’d had. Weekends we’d spent locked in a room and fucking our brains out until we were sore. Days we spent apart, resulting in some of the most passionate and aggressive sex I could remember ever having.

We both considered sex a core part of who we were. Finding someone who shared this intense constant desire and who was also compatible for the long run seemed impossible. For a while we were happy to just seek each other out as a distraction from the sometimes-painful real world. Sex was a blanket, and wrapping each other in it was something we both needed, maybe on a deeply emotional level.

My thoughts were bringing back so many memories; vivid, naked, fucking each other memories and I felt my cock start to harden again. She felt the movement and pushed against it.

“You realize we’re probably going to do this, right?” I said.

“I know,” she said, almost inaudibly. “I just want to feel you against me for a while longer.”

Anna wrapped my head in her arm and started softly kissing my neck. Her lips were barely touching my skin, but the connection was immense. I sighed out a long breath of air and squeezed her tightly. The soft, wet tip of her tongue dragged along my neck and traveled slowly upwards to my jawline.

Her every contact point with my body suddenly drove a rush of passion into me, jutting my growing cock between us. She felt my surge and dragged a knee up my stomach and moved the same foot over the edge of the couch. My fingers rounded her smooth cheeks and dove between them, finding the familiar damp pool I was dying to plunge my cock into again.

I rubbed around her pussy as she pushed her thigh against my erection, saying into my neck, “I think I wanted you ever since you asked me to move in.”

I thought about this for a minute, and admitted to myself that my noble intentions were never far from the hidden truth.

“I honestly loved the idea of being able to see you every day,” I said, pushing a long finger into her moist tunnel. “I think having you around was good for my sex life. You reminded me of great sex, and I took that to bed with me.”

“Me too,” Anna said, “and I can’t help loving you like this,” she moaned and started grinding her thigh harder into my cock, her mouth sucking on my neck.

“I still love you An,” I responded, knowing it was the truth, and as painful as it was for all involved, it was the fucking truth.

“I love you too,” she said almost desperately, “I always long for what we had, no matter where we are or who we’re with.”

Her hips started tilting around, grinding on my finger inside of her. I whispered into her ear, “we’re actually going to do it again, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, and I’ve been ready,” she returned into my ear, “I want this. Please, do it before I change my mind. Fuck me,” Her panting was getting intense. “I mean it.” Anna lifted herself up on all fours above me, staring into my longing face. Her beautiful tits were hanging, and I could see my cock sticking up, waiting for the inevitable plunge.

And it was so natural that neither of us looked or aimed or anything. Her hips descended and I felt my cock easing right into Anna’s warm and glorious fit.

It was a mind-blowing instant of sexual interconnectedness and blissful wonder as my cock buried itself as deeply inside Anna’s hollow cunt as it’s ever been. We both exhaled immensely, and in that very instant, we were back.

Her mouth hung open as I bottomed out, and the look on her face was one of pure passion. I’m sure mine was no different as I ran my hands up her thighs and around her back, grabbing that sexy woman as tightly as I could.

We pushed against each other in a frantic connection of sex and lust. It was an idyllic rift in time as our souls became singular again. Neither of us could back away, and we started shifting our lower bodies in subtle circles of intimate connection. My cock was deep, and her pussy captured me so completely that I was content to simply exist inside of her.

Back and forth we ground into the other. I heard her gasp, so I slowly sat us up on the couch. She clung to me like a lost puppy, and her body was shaking from the pleasure.

Then I realized Anna was actually crying, right into my shoulder; tiny little sobs that had me confused and worried.

“Anna? What is it?” I gently asked, pushing back the hair from around her ear and wiping a tear from her cheek.

“You...” she sniffed, “feel so amazing. I just... forgot how intense it really was...”

“I know,” I soothed, “I feel the same way. Let’s just enjoy this as much as we can while we have it again... okay?”

That seemed to cheer her up a little as she nodded her head.

“It’s not over yet,” I breathed, reaching my cock into her and then pulling out a small amount, “far from it.”

Anna smiled and looked right into my eyes, her tear-stained lashes blinking quickly. “I do love you, you know, and I always...” with that she squeezed her inner muscles around my nestled shaft, “always, will!”

“I love you too,” I said and grabbing her butt, “and now we’re going to make this night worth every minute of regret we might face afterwards.”

With that Anna leaned back and onto the couch, pulling me with her and reaching down to grab my ass cheeks and squeeze them.

“So then fuck me already,” she said so matter-of-factly that I had no choice but to pull my cock almost completely free from her warm embrace, and then slam it back home with enough force.

“Oh god… Ahh” she yelled, louder than I ever remember her being, which was saying something.

I put my forehead against hers and locked in my stomach muscles, allowing my hips to start taking long delicious strokes in and out of her body. Every push and pull was luxurious and familiar and daring all at the same time. I knew just how she liked it. I knew what got her body and her mind really excited. She knew the same about me as well, which is why she pulled my face down and pushed her tongue in my ear.

The warm sensation had a direct line to the muscles in control of my blazing erection, and I started to really pump it into her with passion.

Her lusty voice in my wet ear sounded better than I ever remembered, “Oh, yeah, fuck, oh fuck, that’s it, mmmm, that’s it, fuck me, oh shit. Ohhh…” her voice trailed off into grunts of pleasure as she hugged me tighter.

My cock was sliding in and out of her like an oiled piston, and the liquid noises of sex were squelching out into the room. I realized I was quickly building up a new head of orgasmic steam, so I eased back into a more casual pace. Every bit of her scrumptious pussy was sliding across every inch of my solid cock as we connected through long slippery strokes of sex.

Eventually Anna loosened her grip and held me still, stopping our movements but holding my cock deep inside. Her eyes were wild. She was hungry, and right in the middle of a juicy meal.

Anna spoke, softly, “…from behind.”

I smiled as I remembered how she liked it that way. I slipped my wet cock out of her, and backed slightly away. She slid off the couch and put her knees on the floor, bending her naked figure over the cushion.

I admired her bare ass in front of me, again. It was so familiar; so right. A thousand memories came rushing back as I instinctively ran my hands over her naked butt and up her spine as I moved in close.

I bent over her body with my wet cock wedged upright in the crack of her ass cheeks and started whispering in her ear.

“This is how you really like it, isn’t it Anna?”

A slight whimper emerged, and she moved her ass against me in earnest, but I wasn’t about to slip into her just yet.

“Do you remember how far I can reach from back here?”

“You know I do,” she softly replied.

“Tell me something you think about with me around,” I teased, easing back from her ear, and rubbing her shoulders and neck, “something hot.”

“Don’t...” Anna pleaded.

“It’s okay An,” I soothed, “just tell me one thing you fantasized about. It’s only going to turn the heat up.”

A long silence appeared, and I slowly eased the underside of my cock up and down her crevice as I patiently waited for her inevitable reply.

“Fine,” she started, lifting herself up onto her elbows, “Sometimes... I imagine myself cleaning… God this is embarrassing.”

“Just tell me.”

“I-I’m cleaning, and I’m... naked,” she revealed. “And then you come home unexpectedly, maybe you’ve been drinking, and you sit down and just watch me cleaning in the nude. You’re staring at my body and telling me how good of a job I’m doing, how you appreciate how clean I keep our place.”

This was incredible, and now I was logging every word into a fantasy file I could use later as well. I reached around and started toying with one her tight nipples.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” she moaned, humping her bare cheeks against me. “I keep looking over and your eyes are always on me, on my body, staring at me. Then, while I’m cleaning a counter, or bent over in some way, you come close and start touching me, softly, even though I ask you to stop. You don’t. You touch my breast, you cup my ass, you stroke my neck; your hands are all over me.”

I groaned to myself and rubbed my hands over her body to match the story, feeling every sensational inch of her bare form under my fingers.

“Oh god, you really know how to play this,” Anna said, and then she continued. “You start asking me why I’m naked, and if I was just trying to get you excited. I would insist that I just liked to clean in the nude in my own apartment, and that I should be able to if I wanted. But inside I knew it would drive you crazy, and that you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

Anna started sliding her bare ass up and down the length of my nestled cock as she continued.

“You would touch me and tell me to keep cleaning. I wouldn’t notice, but at some point, you’d pull out your cock, and I would feel it against me, hard...”

I took that moment to reenact her tale, pushing the head of my cock down between her cheeks.

“I would act shocked and offended, but you’d push into me...”

Which now I did.

“OH god! Just like... that,” she moaned as my cock ran home, “that’s so much better than I imagined!”

My cock slid into her, and I pulled on her shoulders to help get it in deep. I leaned over again and started talking into her ear as I softly began to fuck her from behind.

“Is this what you wanted? Hmm? Parading around in the nude. Did you think I wouldn’t react?”

I kept sliding my cock in and out of her love tunnel, bringing loud moans and sighs.

“Did you think I would just sit and watch your sexy body bouncing around our apartment in the nude and not want to touch it... to taste it... to have it!? How dare you tease me like that? Now you’re getting what you really wanted, aren’t you?”

I grabbed her hair playfully, “Aren’t you?”

“YES” she moaned, pushing her ass back against my thrusts and hanging her head down low as I released her hair.

“And now your roommate, your ex-boyfriend, is actually fucking you! He’s finally fucking you after all this time, and you were secretly hoping it would come to this, weren’t you?”

“Yes!” she squealed as her torso dropped and her head turned to the side.

I grabbed her wide hips and started bouncing my body off of hers in a forceful fuck to last us a lifetime... or another long time anyway.

“You really need to be fucked like this, don’t you Anna?” I asked with heat and passion in my voice.

“Mmm... mmm... mmm,” is all she could manage. I kept the aggression level high, because I knew she liked it, and I pushed her head softly into the couch.

“Am I deep enough?” I started, “can you feel it all the way, my cock, fucking you? Is it good enough? I could fuck you like this every day you know. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? A live-in fuck partner to really give your hot pussy the hard attention it desperately needs.”

Her heavy gasps of air were answering my questions on her behalf.

I decided in the moment to take it a step further. “From now on I want you to be ready for my cock in the morning. Keep this little tight pussy neat and clean for me, I’ll be checking it first thing. I want your body smooth and smelling nice. I want to know you will be clean and soft when I come home dirty and hard.”

“Oh my god…” Anna moaned in a torrent of sexual frenzy as I pounded her cunt. While I wasn’t serious with my suggestions, and I was sure she knew I was just heating us up, there was an edge of real desire to it for both of us. I released her head and smoothed her hair as I slid in and out of her slick grip.

“Start looking forward to a nice hard cock in the morning. Won’t that be nice, a pussy filling fuck to start your day?”

I continued to thrust and shake her ass cheeks. “I like your new look by the way, one big shirt with nothing underneath. How hot did it make you, knowing you were practically naked next to me in the morning?”

“It felt... mmm... naughtier than I... thought it would,” she managed as I continued my vaginal assault.

“I bet it did,” I continued, “so naughty that you needed to let me see your whole body bent over in your room with your bare ass sticking out.”

“Oh shit,” she moaned as our thighs smacked together, “I don’t know why... I did that.”

“Because you wanted this,” I said, happily fucking her from behind on the floor of our living room. “How did you feel when I called you in to watch me shower?”

“Excited,” she admitted a little too quickly.

“I know you did, and now it’s out, isn’t it? You’ve been secretly lusting for my cock, and now you’re getting it.”

I glided into her a few more times and then slowly withdrew my long slippery cock from her body. She put her head down and started to catch her breath. I sat on the floor and turned over, my head between her quivering thighs. I pulled her dripping bush right into my mouth.

She raised her body up and kneeled over me, holding the couch for support. I could see the undersides of her breasts, and couldn’t help but reach up and squeeze one as I found her stiff clit with my mouth and sucked it right in.

“Oh F-F-FUCK!” she yelled as my tongue immediately began wearing the finish off of her hot button. I sucked her clit and pinched her nipple, sending her body into a shaking fit. I looked up and into her eyes, just in time to see them roll back as she started to shudder.

I knew one or two orgasms would never be enough, and I was almost positive she wasn’t getting this kind of attention from her boyfriend. She needed it on a physical and emotional level, and I was finally giving to it her again.

Her moans became screams as she pushed her pussy into my face, sliding it around, building up another sand castle of cum for me to kick over. Her hips began pushing my head into the couch, and she ground her wet soaking pussy against my face like I was some kind of humping pole. I grabbed the clenched cheeks of her ass and held on for the ride as her body began to shudder.

Then she came... as quickly as the screaming started, it disappeared, and she quietly shook and came all over my juice slathered face.

I finally sensed the full weight of release wash over her, and a trail of her cum dripped down my chin as I held her up. A huge smile grew across her face and she whispered down at me, “You fucker. I haven’t felt one of those in a long time.”

Anna leaned down and actually licked my cheek. Then she pushed her tongue deep in my mouth and we kissed for a minute until she broke off and said, “I’ve taught you well.”

“That you have,” I agreed, and watched as she spun around, her hand going for my cock. I felt her small fingers grabbing me tight, and then she leaned forward, her mouth slurping my meat like a melting popsicle. I felt her mouth softly sliding up and down my length.

We used to love to sixty-nine, so I slid down and pulled her legs over me again, diving my face between her legs. The sounds of sucking and smacking, moaning and devouring were over the top as we frantically ate each other out. Her legs started shaking as another climax was about to rain down on me. I wanted to cum so badly, but I also wanted to fuck her again.

I stopped eating her pussy, and pushed her off.

“Damn it,” Anna whined, “I was so close.”

“What, again!?” I asked in mock surprise.

“Yes, again, and I now I might need to borrow that tongue of yours to lick my poor pussy to sleep every night.”

A ravenous hunger boiled from my brain and I pushed her back onto the floor. I climbed between her legs and licked a long line from her soaking flame and all the way up to the side of her neck. By the time I got there, my cock was already pressing through her open folds and tunneling deep inside her pussy again.

“Oh, fucking fuck,” Anna wailed as I bottomed her out, my lips on her neck driving her insane. Just as quickly though, I backed out again, retracing the same liquid line down her splayed body and started another oral assault. This time I was held in place as her legs crossed behind my head and her cunt pushed up and down my face. She was ready, and I held on tight as I worked her.

This time the ungodly screaming arose, and as she flew over the edge, her ranting was perverse, even insane.

“Ohhh, Gooaahhddd, ahh Fuck!! mmm, fuck, Eat It! yeah, Eat my pussy, You Fuck! It’s, oh, my, fucking... nhhhh,”

I was simply holding on for dear life as she went through some kind of transcendental experience. It would have been almost scary, if it hadn’t been exactly what I was going for.

Anna came so hard I almost felt sorry for her; it was intense. Her body convulsed and she could hardly gasp for air as the orgasm ripped through her soul and all over my face. As she finally settled dow, I felt the grip loosen on my head, and her hands unwrapped themselves from my hair. Her breathing was hard and a little raspy.

“That...” she breathlessly began, “was what I have been missing. How could you do that to me?”

I climbed up next to her on the floor and said, “I just remembered how you always liked it.”

The smile plastered on her face turned to a look of wonder as she shook her head, and then a sly smiled unfolded from her pretty face.

“And now I remember what you always wanted.”

I honestly had no idea what she was talking about, until the very instant she pushed me away and sprang to her feet, running naked down the hall.

A hungry smile immediately found my face, and I jumped to my feet and ran after her, my erection so hard from my dirty thoughts that it barely moved as I did.

I rounded the corner toward the light from her room, greeted by a soft glow from her reading lamp beside her unmade bed. On the floor beside the bed was the most luscious and hungering sight my mind could have imagined.

Anna was on her elbows and knees, climbing under her bed. Her bare ass was up and fully facing me, and she was saying something from underneath.

“Oh good, can you help me find my phone? I think it dropped on the floor somewhere.”

Just her pale ass was sticking out, and her pussy was practically begging me closer. I walked up slowly behind her and got to my knees, reaching out to stroke the soft skin of her naked ass.

“Can you see anyth... hey, what are you doing? Help me look!” she snapped.

I let my fingers roam her glorious backside as I lightly found her dripping hole. I started to rub it around and push my fingers over her clit.

“Hey! Stop it!! Don’t touch me like th...” her muffled voice trailed off as two of my fingers plunged into her wet orifice.

Anna groaned and then said a muffled, “Knock it off, and let me out of here, don’t even think about it!”

It was too good, and she was really playing it up for me. I pulled my fingers out and grabbed my raging cock, eying her gorgeous bottoms-up.

“Thank you, now help me out of... hey! what are you!? no!”

I watched as the head of my cock push her juicy lips aside and ease inside, her tunnel providing quite a resistance. I sank my cock all the way into Anna’s upturned ass, her wet pussy licking the entire length of it along the way.

“You fucking bastard,” she yelled from under the bed, “how could you do this to me?”

I started working my cock in and out of the disembodied ass on legs in front of me, making sure I was listening for our old safe word.

The moans from under the bed were soft but growing. Anna’s luscious rump was milking my cock as I pumped her harder. I had to wonder if she had actually fantasized about this very thing.

After the thrill of taking advantage of her compromising position wore off, I slowed my pace and tentatively pulled out of her. Anna weaseled her butt back and forth, squirming out from under the bed. As soon as her head was free, she sat up on her knees and the look on her face was one of pure lust and playfulness.

I suddenly felt her full naked body weight slamming into me, throwing me to the floor. My head landed in a pile of her dirty clothes, and I looked up to see her face appear in my view, “Don’t you ever! fuck me like that again!” she warned, pushing off of me and jumping to her feet. I watched her naked form quickly disappear out the door.

I smiled wide as I remembered our games, and loved how easily we were picking back up with them.

I jumped up and happily bounded out of the room, wondering where my sexy naked roommate had vanished to. I instantly saw her across the hall in the brightly lit bathroom, and I slowly walked in.

Anna was leaning over the sink with her face in the mirror, applying some kind of lip something as I often saw her do, except this time she was completely naked.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked my reflection in the mirror, “can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Sorry, you left the door open and I really have to go,” I played along.

“Fine, but sit down,” she said looking back at her own pink lips, “I don’t want to hear it while I’m having some girl time.”

I walked to the commode and sat down, knowing I was unable to actually use it in my hardened state. I looked over at Anna next to me; her wonderfully perky breasts were slightly swaying with her subtle movements and her twisted nipples looked thrilled to be part of our game.

“What are you looking at?” she asked without turning her gaze to me, “do I need to wear a robe or something in my own house?”

“No, sorry,” I replied, lifting my eyes to her mouth, “I was just watching what you were doing.”

“Why, do you have a thing for lipstick or something?” she teased, “You can have it when I’m done.”

“Very funny,” I said as I stood, pressing the handle and rushing water into the clean bowl. I walked up behind her and said “I just need to wash my hands.”

“Be my guest,” she said quickly, “but I’m not moving. I was here first.” With that she widened her stance and took up the entire front of the sink.

“Fine,” I resolved and moved in behind her. The first thing to touch as I moved in close was my cock against the top of her ass.

“Hey buddy,” she warned, “watch your cock.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve got a lot of room here,” I playfully whined, “don’t mind my reach.” I wrapped my arms around either side of her and pushed forward, our bodies in full naked contact as I leaned forward to reach the water.

“Well, this is awkward,” Anna said to her own reflection in the mirror, “hurry up.”

I pushed the handle on the faucet and got my hands a little wet. I leaned over for the soap and dropped a gold puddle into my palm as I pushed the top. I rubbed my hands together in front of Anna’s naked waist, enjoying the feel of her entire body against mine.

As my hands foamed up, I lightly clapped them together, launching clumps of suds into the air, some in her direction.

“Hey!” she cried, “watch it! You’re getting soap on my boobs.” She could hardly keep her grin contained as she feigned offense and stood up straight to show me the mess in the mirror.

“Oops, hold on,” I said, watching my hands in the mirror lightly touching the spots of bubbles on her breasts, leaving many more sudsy dabs in their wake. As I looked at her naked reflection, I could see large clumps of bubbles all over her chest. She just watched as I tried wiping them away, but the more I tried the soapier her bare tits were getting.

I tried to keep up the act, but soon I was soaping them up with purpose, sliding my fingers around the smooth skin, rubbing across her nipples, grabbing her slippery globes tight and squeezing them together. I was getting extremely aroused, and my cock strained against her back.

“About done?” she asked, hands on her hips now as if she was just waiting for me to finish fondling her chest.

“Almost,” I huffed into her ear. I pushed my soapy hands down her body and pulled us back. Bending my knees, I dragged the tip of my cock down the naked backside of my roommate. With almost no effort I pushed forward and submerged my entire cock into her dripping tunnel, and watched her face in the mirror as it slid all the way in.

“Ohh fuck...” she moaned as I pushed in, adding an exasperated, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just washing my hands,” I replied as I moved my hands back up to her slippery tits and held them in the mirror while I humped my bare cock in and out of her pussy.

“Oh GOD!!” she belted out as I pushed in deep, “Are you fucking me? We... mmm, we talked about this. No fucking!” She was looking at me in the mirror and grabbing the side of the sink as I continued pushing and pulling my cock in and out of her.

“Oops,” I said, “are we fucking?” My thighs smacked against hers more loudly.

I watched Anna drop her head down to enjoy our little romp for a time, and then she pushed me back with her hips, quickly stepping forward and escaping my insertion. She spun around and pushed me back against the wall next to us, getting right up in my face. She grabbed my chin and stared right into my eyes.

“Well just watch yourself mister,” she said with a commanding tone, grabbing hold of my wet dick, “don’t let this big cock come between us.” With that she started stroking me hard, her fingers slipping easily up and down my lubricated shaft, pumping me faster than I was expecting... and making her point.

I looked into her eyes and enjoyed her hand masturbating my cock between our bellies. Her soapy breasts were barely touching my chest, and her nipples kissed my flesh. I was in blissful heaven, and was seriously about to erupt when she stepped back, releasing my cock and grabbing the towel hanging on a hook next to me.

She quickly wiped the soap from her chest and handed me the towel, saying simply, “The lipstick’s all yours,” and walked out into the hall, bare-assed and smiling. I quickly turned to rinse the soap from my hands and wiped them with the towel, hanging it back on the hook.

I turned off the bathroom light and the entire place suddenly dropped into darkness. There was no light from the direction of her room, or from the living room. Figuring she must have turned off the TV, I felt my way through the dark and down the hall into the main room.

“The power’s out,” I heard Anna say from near the front window. I looked in that direction and could just make out her silhouette against the dim lights shining in from outside. I slowly approached. Being naked in my own dark apartment was nothing strange, but knowing Anna was in there with me, just as undressed, waiting for me to fuck her again, was the most thrilling sense of erotic anticipation I could remember.

“I can’t find a candle or flashlight,” she continued, “so I’m just standing by the window until it comes back on.”

I walked up quietly behind her and saw that she was looking out the window. I put a hand on her shoulder and ran my fingers down her bare back and over her ass.

“You’re naked,” I said softly, stroking her flesh with a tender touch.

“I know. I was about to jump in the shower when it went dark. Don’t.” She pushed my hand away, and brushed against my erection in the process. She stopped.

“Are you...?” she turned toward me and ran her hand up my body, “Oh my god. So we’re...”

“Both naked here in the dark,” I finished, “We’re in for a big surprise if the lights come back on.”

She backed away from me in tentative hesitation and paused for a moment before saying, “Why, you’ve seen me naked before.”

“I know, but it’s different now,” I said, “we’re not supposed to see each other... you know, like this.”

“Well... I can’t see anything,” she breathed in a husky whisper, her body mere inches from mine, “can you?”

“Definitely not,” my voice shook a little. We stood face to face, drinking in the thick anticipation and allure of the moment.

We inched closer, and I felt the softest touch folding slowly around my excited manhood. I exhaled heavily.

“What’s wrong,” her voice asked tenderly.

“Something’s touching me,” I said. Loving this a little too much.

“Really? What does it feel like?”

“Like a soft hand, on my... ohhh yeah,” I whispered, feeling the grip tightening and moving up and down.

“That’s so strange,” she said with a smile in her voice, “do you think we have ghosts?”

“If we do, they really... hhhhh, like me,” I said, as another touch moved in to softly cradle my balls. I closed my eyes, not that it made much difference in the dark, and suddenly a warm wetness wrapped around the head of my cock, moving quickly downward along it like a wet mouth sucking my cock. “Hoooly shit!”

The unexpected pitch-black sensation took me by surprise, and I nearly lost it. I felt her throat open and my cock slipped inside for a second, and then she pulled completely off, leaving my cock to balance wet and alone in the dark. I opened my eyes and saw Anna’s dark figure outlined in front of me again.

“Something... really likes me,” I said, unsteady on my own legs.

“Well keep it to yourself,” she said, “your moaning is making me uncomfortable.”

I stepped to the side and softly put my hand out, feeling for some bare skin and finding it. Knowing her body well I traced my way down her side and around the front of her thigh, feeling it open for me.

My fingers brushed past her small pubic hair and I didn’t need any light to know how turned on she was. My fingers pushed across her excited clit, and I felt her body reacting to my touch.

“You okay?” I asked with a grin.

“I-I see what you mean,” she breathed heavily; “I’m feeling a little... felt.”

I reached around in the dark and grabbed a handful of her bare tit flesh, squeezing it gently in my fingers.

“Just let it happen,” I whispered in her ear, “we don’t want to upset any spirits.” I worked a couple fingers in between her legs and started slipping them into her.

“Oh…” she moaned, leaning on the window sill, “something’s... pushing into me!”

“Seriously?” I asked as I plunged between her lips, “What does it feel like?”

“Hhhh... ohhh… a hand,” she moaned, “fingers, reaching!”

“Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s...” she paused, “strangely thrilling.”

I felt her hips grinding around on my hand, pulling me deeper.

“It sounds really good,” I admitted hearing her heavy breathing and sultry moans, “I’m getting pretty turned on here. You sure you’re, okay?”

“Hey~”

“Yes?”

“I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“That something in here is going to actually fuck me, and I won’t be able to stop it,” she breathed as I twisted my fingers around inside her burning bush.

“What should we do?” I asked, keeping the game alive.

“I hate to... hhhh, ask,” she breathed.

“You want me to put it in?” I offered, now brushing my cock along her bare back.

“Would you? Just to be safe?”

I slid my fingers out of her wet pool, and bending my legs I let my cock find her juicy hole. I eased it all the way in, and she groaned as I entered and stood breathless against the window... impaled.

“Like this?” I asked, holding my cock still inside of her. “Do you think anything else could fit in here?”

“Definitely... not,” she said softly, tilting her hips and edging my cock around inside her. I ran my hands up her naked sides and weighed her bare breasts in my palms. The feeling of her soft thighs against mine as I cupped her bosom caused me to involuntarily push in a little deeper.

“…no fucking,” she whispered, obviously using every ounce of her fiber to keep from encouraging me.

“I’m not sure I can help it,” I pleaded, “you feel so amazing.”

“But I have a boyfriend,” Anna said, pushing her hips back to keep my cock fully seated.

“My body doesn’t know that,” I said, pinching her bare nipples and pushing in so deep I could feel myself bottom out. I was awash in the soft feelings of her insides thoroughly soaking my dick, and I could tell our little game was about to break.

“I’m just going to, adjust myself,” I whispered, slowly easing my length out about an inch, and then pushing it back in, “like... this.”

“Oh god,” she breathed, “you can’t do that...”

“Why not?”

“It feels like sex.”

“It’s not sex,” I assured her, pulling slowly out until just the head of my cock hovered inside the entrance to her tunnel “This is sex.”

With that I pushed my hips forward and thrust a series of deep plunges into her, sliding easily in and out. Slap, slap, slap, slap...

“Oh oh st t t top!” she managed as her thighs loudly smacked against mine. I pushed in all the way in and held it there, hugging her body tightly below me and finding her ear in the dark.

“Feel the difference?” I whispered.

“You asshole,” she whimpered, “you have to stop.”

“Didn’t you like that?” I asked.

“I...” she started and then stopped.

I finished her words, “You loved it.”

“Fuck you.”

“My pleasure,” I said as I proceeded to intentionally slide my cock in and out of Anna’s pussy in the dark like I owed it a favor. My long and sensual strokes were slow but rhythmic. I knew our game had ended as I heard her groan out a familiar sound, one of pure ecstasy, and she began to match my deep plunges thrust for thrust with her hips. It was fantastic. This was no simple fuck; this was hot, deep, lubricated intercourse between two experienced sexual beings.

After a few sublime minutes of pitch-black communion with Anna, I eased my twitching cock out of her for the... fourth?... time that night. I turned her around and felt for her face, sucking the inside of her soft mouth into mine. Our bodies came together as we smashed my sloppy cock between us like a sandwich. The heat in the room was unbearable as we both were practically out of our minds with lust.

“My room...” is all I said after painfully pulling us apart.

“Now.” she agreed, pulling me quickly in that direction. I followed her lead in the dark, and we bumped our naked bodies along the wall in a hurry to get there. Once inside, I found the plug to a small string of lights, which washed the room in enough dim light to see the naked girl sprawling across my bed like a seductress.

We squinted at the light, but her eyes were on my body, crawling up and down, a look of hot lust burned onto her face.

“Come here,” she said curling a finger at me.

I crawled over her body, staring into her eyes with the awareness we were lovers once again. For a brief window in time, we let ourselves go to enjoy the familiar fruits of our bodies and minds.

Our lips met again and this time it was gentle, inviting, almost intoxicating as the soft wetness of our mouths settled into a playful erotic dance. Her legs were wide and drew me in with a tractor beam of passion and warmth, of excitement and playfulness; of lust... and love.

I stopped kissing her for a moment and looked deeply into her eyes, she read my thoughts immediately.

“I know that look,” Anna said, running her fingers through my hair. “We just can’t.”

I didn’t answer because I knew she was right. I knew the logic involved. I knew the pain we’d repeatedly felt. I knew the way our personalities worked against us at every turn when we were together.

I - Didn’t - Fucking - Care.

“I know...” I conceded as always, saying the words but feeling the twinge of remorse behind them.

“We’re so good at this,” she said, reaching between her legs and guiding my throbbing ache into her warm intensive care. She hugged me tightly to her chest as I sank it in once again, breathing heavy air into my ear. “Ohhh, Yes, that’s it, you feel so good... mmm.”

I felt her nipples pushing into me as my hips worked the action between us. I wanted to hold back and make it all last forever, but her body was too sensual, too lustful... too perfect.

I started moving faster, making her squeal with delight at my increased vigor. The bed started shifting beneath us as the sounds and smells of sex were broadcast throughout the cozy room.

I was up on my hands again, watching her body take me, her soft tits wobbling on her chest. Her mouth was open and her eyes bore into mine, urging me on. Our frantic sex was gaining steam as her legs hugged me tightly and tried to help me fuck her, like really fuck her with everything I had.

I started to get wild, and words just poured out of my mouth, like we should have known they would.

“Do you like my cock in there, An?” I was in a mental trance and everything felt familiar again, like knowing how much of a turn on her name was. “Do you like a good fuck?” Her head nodded and her eyes were eating mine alive. “Does it make your pussy wet to feel my cock fucking you so hard?”

“Yes,” she softly moaned, “keep fucking me... oh god daddy, fuck me!”

And there it was.

I had all but forgotten, but it came out of her just like that, mere moments before a shocked look spread across her face. Adorable. I slowed for just a second and grinned wickedly into her eyes as they darted with fear.

“You like daddy’s cock, don’t you baby?” I growled at her, just the way she liked it. “You’re so good for your daddy, a good girl with a wet pussy, aren’t you?”

The conflict on her face was apparent, but short lived. Quickly she reached up and pulled me down to her, our bodies frantically fucking again. Her tongue went in my ear and out the end of my juiced-up cock as it pumped into her.

“Oh god daddy, give it to me,” she moaned into my soul, “make love to me, please. I need you. Can you feel how wet you’re making me?”

I was struggling to hang on, it was all too intense. I felt my passion reaching a peak with our most personal and private game playing out after all this time. I had no choice but to settle the hell down...

“Hold on baby,” I said as I slowly pulled out of her against the strain of her legs trying to keep me in place.

“No,” she said, “don’t go!” Still, I pulled away and rolled over, lying next to her. I was breathing heavy and sweating.

“I’m exhausted,” I sigh, “let me get some rest?” I closed my eyes with my arm over my face, knowing my aim to get her on top was immediately received.

Anna climbed over and straddled me, quickly descending her hot pussy over my soaking cock and picking up right where we left off.

“Mmmm, what are you doing hon?” I moaned as she swallowed my cock with her body in the most desperate way possible.

“I need you daddy,” she said as her butt started to bounce her soft pussy up and down the length of me as she lay on top of me, “I have to feel you... inside me... fucking me... daddy,” she whispered in my ear.

With a surge of passion, she sat herself upright, my cock fully seated inside of her. Watching her sitting above me I admired her perky breasts as she stared into my eyes. I reached up and took a handful of each. She looked down at me with a mischievous smirk, and then something else settled onto her face. . .

“Daddy...” she started to say, slowly grinding her pelvis into my pubic bone and swirling my cock around inside of her. No more words came however as she placed her palms flat on my chest and pushed against me, shifting her hips and stirring her insides with my deeply reaching cock. Her rocking became pushing, and her pushing became sliding. Soon she was lying against me again, quickly and frantically fucking my brains out.

Our bodies slapped together as our moans devolved into grunts. I felt Anna’s hot breath in my ear again, and her words this time were some of the most wonderful utterances my soul could ever have dreamed.

“Daddy, oh... this is so good, and... god, you’re so incredible. I love your big cock inside of me, Mmmm. You’re everything to me, and anything you’re not... mmmm... tough shit. Ohhhhhh gggod, keep fucking me daddy… yessss. This has to be, the last time... uh huh, keep going... the last time we, fuck around on other people, okay?”

I barely started to reply.

“Shhhh,” she continued as her pussy slid up and down my deep erection, “…mmmm, let me finish... This is the last time, because from now on, there are no other people Daddy, ahh... that’s right... because, I want to be yours again. I want us to be together, forever this time... ohhhh... you like that, Daddy? It’s okay. Tell me.”

“I fucking love it,” my voice burst out as my cock thrust into her bouncing body. I had hold of her hips and was pulling her back down to me each time she pulled away.

Finally, I slowed our bodies down to an easy pace and looked hard into her eyes. “And I love you, Anna. I really do” I lifted my hands and held her face in them as our bodies slowed. “What the hell have we been doing all this time?” I had to know.

She didn’t answer at first, and just looked into my eyes as we stopped, our souls keeping the sultry flames connecting us alive. Then she told me, and it made perfect sense.

“Making sure.”

Oh, I was sure. I was absolutely sure there wasn’t another person on the planet that could come close to the connection I felt with this human being. I wanted nothing more in that very moment than to follow her to the ends of the world and throw everything I called my own into oblivion.

I was hers. Anna’s... and I had never been happier.

“And you’re sure?” I asked tentatively.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she said, her words falling out between panting breaths. “I love you more right now than I thought was possible.”

I pushed deeply into her body, this time to form a concrete joining of our souls. She pushed back and I instantly felt every other time we had merged together wash over me as if they had all just happened in an instant. We locked together in a quiet, emotional embrace.

Anna’s soft body was an extension of mine in that moment in time. We started to hug tightly in our coupled position, twitching slightly from the emotional and physical reception.

Our bodies started to ignite again, but without any physical movement. It was a strange feeling, like we were fucking, frozen in time.

She looked at me and I felt her pussy start to tremble around my cock. Then it twitched again, and I felt a rumble in my body. Her arms began to shake, and her mouth opened in an expression of deep pleasure. It was so beautiful and enchanting that I felt a wave of passion extend my cock into her further.

Her eyes widened in disbelief, as her legs began to join the chorus. I held on to her tightly and just throbbed inside of her, feeling every pulse of pleasure that was building around it. Her chest began to twitch, and she sucked in a deep breath, clinging to my body and digging her nails into my skin.

“OOOOOOHHHH...” she shuddered with a shaky moan, and I looked up at her face, which she had pushed forward in a grimace of intense concentration, and I knew Anna was about to burst.

The wall of energy that slammed into her body caused every muscle of hers to clench, gripping me tightly beneath her and jerking us both with her sudden heaves. I held on tightly and just let her come around me with everything she had, feeling her pussy convulsing and twitching on my cock, drinking in the waves of pressure and release washing over us.

Without warning the feel of her throbbing contractions and her intense climax caused my cock to swell and vibrate. The feel of her liquid release washing over me and the erotic spectacle of her orgasm was enough to start my own.

“Breed me, daddy…” Anna said.

That was enough to set me off, a wave of thrilling exhilaration rushed through my nervous system, throbbing out a wave of cum deep into her body as my muscles grabbed her tightly. My creamy jets lurched into Anna’s delicious cunt as her inner walls milked my erupting cock of each electric burst. They kept pumping out of me, pulse after pulse, for what seemed like an eternity...

It was immediately the most intense sexual feeling I had ever experienced, and there hadn’t been any movement; only our tight naked connection and our newly ignited passion and love for the other. We lay there panting, both of us with looks of disbelief and sheer wonder on our faces.

“What the hell... was that?” she asked finally, her body sweating and still snugly wrapped around my own.

“The best sex we’ve ever had?” I offered slowly, feeling my cock finally letting go of the firm pressure it had been holding all night.

Her heavy breathing was coming down and she lifted her body up onto her arms to look into my eyes, a satisfied grin and something else across her face.

“By far the best sex we’ve ever had,” she agreed and paused, her gaze drinking in my soul for a moment.

“I think we should give it another go.”

“Really?” I exasperated, unable to actually move my body another inch, “I think I might need the night to recover.”

Anna smiled and rolled her eyes, “Not that dummy... Us.”

There was no question, no hesitation in my mind. Our subconscious minds kept bringing us together over the years for what we finally came to realize. We couldn’t stay apart, for worse or for better...

[armandsbf]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗗𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗗𝗮𝗺𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗙𝗮𝘄𝗻

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʟᴏᴜɪꜱ x ᴏᴄ x ʟᴇꜱᴛᴀᴛ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴡʜᴇɴ ʟᴏᴜɪꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇꜱᴛᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢʀʏ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴀʀᴛɪꜱᴛ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴᴅʀᴇᴀ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʟʟ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ʜᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴏꜱᴛꜱ.

ᴛᴡ: ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴘʀᴇᴅᴀᴛᴏʀ/ᴘʀᴇʏ ᴅʏɴᴀᴍɪᴄ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ

an: this one-shot is inspired by a few iwtv fics I’ve read on here, but I tried to give it my own twist. I hope y’all enjoy my precious little monsters! Btw, it’s basically x reader but I have her a name and little bit of a backstory cause it makes things run a little smoother while writing.

Running was the only option. That's what she told herself as she stood in the darkness of the docks. The night was foggy and she would've been blinded by night had it not been for the lampposts. Her body shook with fear. They'd find her, she thought to herself. And if they didn't, they'd hunt her down, but now she was free. She was finally free.

If Andrea had one regret, it would be leaving her dear girl. Her light, her beauty, her Claudia. She had no idea what her parents had done or who they were. She was a happy little monster, and she deserved her freedom. She hoped she wouldn't hate her and that one day, she'd find her and let her explain.

It wasn't suppose to be this way. She was meant to be free after working at the Azelea. Make her money and take herself and her bother, Julian, far away from this place. They wanted to go to New York. That dream was long gone.

Andrea was never supposed to be wrapped up in Louis and Lestat's damned relationship. She wondered, briefly, if she'd ever even had a choice. She knew if she had, this would never had happened. She was wooed, seduced and then taken into that home without any knowledge of what that would be.

Running was the only option.

She knew this to be true. She would only remain human for so long, and she still wanted a taste of her freedom. For whatever reason they'd refused to turn her, especially so early. She was only twenty-five, and they enjoyed her innocence. The kind of innocence only a human could have. They liked her wide eyed optimism, and it made them feel less like the monsters they were.

Her innocence had been depleted into nothing but empty, inky blackness. She felt nothing but fear and despair now.

Her memories started coming back the more Claudia asked about her past and the more she drew blanks. Louis and Lestat would comfort her and fill in the gaps for her, but it never felt right. Her hands shook with fear as her memories settled back into her mind.

4 years ago

Andrea never thought she'd be working at the Azelea. She was a bright young artist with a point of view, her paintings were her pride and joy. But money was running low and Julian could not provide for both of them. He would never know what she did at night, or perhaps he did, but he never complained about the extra cash.

He wanted so badly to protect her, but he couldn't do it any longer, not when they were barely scraping by. She had to learn to fend for herself.

Luckily, the Azelea was a well kept establishment and she wasn't treated badly. Her boundaries were her boundaries and the girls there protected her when it was needed. Especially since she didn't like going past simple favours.

The true height of her nights was the two men who she got to lay her eyes on every night. The owner of the club and man about town, Louis de Pointe du Lac and his paramour Lestat de Lioncourt. How could an artist glance at them and not see what magnificent they exuded? They quickly became her inspiration after a few long glances.

Those long glances would soon turn into longing looks. When Lestat played the piano at the club, he'd lock eyes with her and then with Louis, as if he was playing for them. When Louis walked around the club with a cigar between his lips, he'd keep his gaze trained on her even as he talked to others. Andrea blushed and giggled when they did that.

What she didn't know at the time was that they knew every sickeningly sweet thought she had about them, and those gazes and winks were teasing, almost beckoning her to come closer. They watched her every night as she debased herself for lecherous men, but refused to go all the way. It was something she really didn't allow herself to do, and as there was no shortage of girls at the club, no one ever mentioned it

She'd find herself painting them on her nights off, which had become more and more frequent. For whatever reason, her work had become sparse and men no longer approached her. She felt she was doing something wrong, something that made her undesirable. Was it her resistance to do more than what she offered?

It wasn't so bad at the time, but she saw Julian's dejected face every time she got home with empty pockets. She couldn't stand it anymore and so to reduce the cost, she'd spend nights at the Azelea in that one room that was always free. Coincidentally it was the room she kept her painting supplies in.

The night had come to a close, even though it was still dark. Fake moans could be heard from most every room, but the band had cleared out and the tables were empty. Andrea was painting again and this time, she'd taken her appreciation for the two elusive men's beauty a bit far, portraying them as heavenly angels.

Given what they were, it later felt like a perversion of the holy paintings she'd seen all her life. But now, all she knew were that they were divinity incarnate, with eyes like church windows.

That's where she struggled the most, her brush strokes becoming more meticulous with every second. Their faces were sculpted like marble, each highlight and shadow falling perfectly into place. She sighed as she looked at the half finished work.

A knock at the door broke her out of her haze. "Andrea, I'm coming in!" According to him he had knocked twice prior to entering, but Andrea hadn't heard Louis.

She jolted and almost backed up entirely into her pairing. Thankfully, she barely managed to hide it from the smiling face of her angels. Louis had come in with Lestat behind him, grinning mischievously.

She giggled nervously. "M-Mister du Lac! Mister Lioncourt! How can I help you?" She had never truly spoken with them, having been hired by the head girl who everyone called Bricks. Andrea silently hoped they weren't here to talk about her lack of business, or to let her go.

Louis heard her thoughts that night too, and had internally scoffed at the idea that they'd ever let her go. He'd been the one who had made her off-limits to touch. Both he and his companion had quickly grown attached to the bright young girl, and seeing her be caressed and violated by random dirty men filled them with rage, so he'd put a stop to that.

"You seem nervous, Andrea. Trust me, nothing to be nervous about." Louis reassured, removing his sunglasses and placing them into his inner jacket pocket.

Lestat hadn't spoken a single word, only taken in the room around him. It seemed Andrea had built her on world in that room, and he wanted to know everything about her world. Her mind was a wonder to him, a cavern of artistic inspiration and a view of the world he hadn't seen in decades. It was so pure, just like her and just like her paintings.

She sighed, relieved. Then Louis looked down at her hands, stained with paint. "Painting again, huh?"

Her cheeks grew red with shame. "Y-you noticed that?"

"Of course, I did." His hand reached out and grabbed the side of her neck, his thumb brushing over her throat. Her breath caught in her chest as he pressed into her skin firmly, eyes wide at such a bold gesture. He huffed a laugh at her pure reaction, as if she'd never been touched before. He liked how sensitive she was and how curious her eyes grew, desperate to look at his actions but unable to. When he pulled away, there was emerald paint on his thumb. The colour of his eyes. "You've got splashes of colour all over you." He said slowly. She didn't speak, still shocked at his actions. "I've never seen a finished painting though." Was that an invitation? Did he want to see her work? She didn't know.

A presence was felt behind her and she jumped away. "The spirit of a true creator, and the instincts of a frightened fawn." The velvety baritone of Lestat spoke, she turned to face him, her back now facing Louis and her painting exposed. "Fascinating. Almost as fascinating as your most recent work, ma petit faon." My little fawn.

His eyes were glued onto the painting as Louis neared them from behind her. She could feel the coldness of his body, his chest almost settling into her back. His shining eyes settled onto the portrait of him and Lestat, specifically on the angel wings on their backs. The longing looks in their eyes and the intimacy of that.

"Angels? You painted us as angels?" He asked quietly. He was an angel to her? Truly?

Lestat smiled softly. "Closely entwined heavenly bodies. Is this how you see us, cherie?"

Andrea was still trying to stutter her words out, looking from Louis to Lestat as if one would help with the other. But they only stared at you with soft expressions on their faces. "I-I—" she cut herself off, gathering her thoughts. "On the nights I don't get much business," which was every night now. "I paint. I see you every night, the way you look at each other, the way you enjoy yourselves, your eyes. Unearthly eyes. Like stars." Her rambling had gotten the best of her. "Apologies, Mister du Lac, Mister Lioncourt, that was out of line—I shouldn't have—"

Louis placed his hand on her arm and pulled her closer to him, grinning down at her. "Careful there, sugarcane. If you keep talking like that your tongue's gonna fall out."

Her back was pressed into his chest, and she was silenced again.

Lestat stood before her, looking to the portrait one final time before glancing back at her. He placed his hand on her cheek with a certain finality in his eyes. If only she'd known what that meant. "It's enchanting. No, more than that, magnificent. You are a being of extraordinary talent, and extraordinary beauty."

Everything felt so hot. Andrea was breathing heavily at the feeling of being so intimately between these two men who she'd admired for so long. This moment could've lasted forever, it was art in itself. The Divine Damned and Their Fawn.

Lestat hummed. "I'd like to pay you for your work. Have this masterpiece hung in our home."

She jolted. "What?"

"Name your price and I'll take it. You'll have to come see it mounted of course, I'd like your keen artistic eye." His smile turned into a smirk at the thought of her in their home.

Andrea couldn't believe it. Someone wanted to pay for her work. Someone actually wanted to have her paintings in their home! This was amazing!

"Are we getting an answer anytime soon, Andy?" Louis asked with a laugh. Andy? That was new.

Andrea laughed nervously. "Mister du Lac—"

"Louis." He corrected. "You can call me Louis."

What was happening? She hadn't even spoken to them before tonight. Why were they being so kind? Something felt wrong.

"Louis." She said slowly. It tasted sweet on her tongue. "I can't possibly take your money. It wouldn't be right!"

"And why not?" Lestat asked. "You've created something of worth here and I'd like to see it appreciated. You must be compensated somehow. Unless you'd prefer another form of payment." He gave her a lustful glance up and down her body. She shivered.

"Lestat." Louis chided. "Pay him no mind, sugarcane. He can get haughty."

"Horribly untrue, mon cher. I'm only being honest." The Frenchman scoffed. "Your price, beautiful Andrea?"

"I couldn't possibly—"

"How's three thousand?" Louis piped up, not even blinking.

"Excuse me?!" She shrieked.

"Four thousand?" Asked Lestat. Her mouth was agape. "No, how about five?"

"Stop saying numbers!" Andrea interrupted loudly, immediately feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry, I am, I don't—"

"Five thousand it is." The blonde continued. "We'll come back in a week. Have it done by then, hm?" And then he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Shall we, mon cher?"

Louis nodded. "A week, Andrea." He reminded before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

And then they walked away. Seven days from that night, her entire life would change.

_______________

They'd come to collect a week later and with all her free time, she'd managed to finish. They'd both marvelled at the painting and immediately insisted she come to their home and tell them where to place it.

Andrea shied away at the prospect. She'd told her brother about them and Julian had asked her to stay away. He didn't demand anything of her, but he strongly advised against getting involved with them. He'd told her of the rumours, that they were in cahoots with the devil. She'd scoffed at that, but agreed something was off about them. There was no way to be so otherworldly and slightly off putting and still be normal, or completely human even. But she shook those thoughts from her head.

Of course they were human! They were right there in front of her, flesh and blood! It was silly to think otherwise, but then again they were just so fascinating. People usually weren't so.

She promised herself she'd only stay for an hour, but when they guided her through the door, her painting under Lestat's arm, she'd been accosted by a lovely girl with a large shining smile. She shrieked with excitement, jumping from her seat on the couch. "Oh, is this her, daddy Lou?" She asked him.

He nodded. "Yeah, this is her. Andrea, meet our daughter, Claudia."

He'd spoken of her a lot over the past week whenever he and Lestat came to visit her room. According to him, she was a lovely little horror that kept them on their toes every day. She'd laughed at that and told him she used to dream of being a mother to a girl like that.

That had made both him and Lestat incredibly excited.

"They talk about you a lot, Miss Andrea!" The girl confessed, giggling. "They said you were gorgeous and talented and you are!"

"Claudia." Lestat chided. "Calm yourself, ma petit. Lovely Andrea needs a moment. Don't you, sweet girl?"

Andrea just broke out into chuckles. "On the contrary, she is just as you described, and I love it!" She said. "It's lovely to meet you."

"You too!" The child said honestly. "Is that the painting? Can I see?"

After that night, visiting Louis, Lestat and Claudia had become regular for her. She'd spend her every moment there, teaching the young girl to draw and paint when her parents were busy and then passing the rest of her time conversing with the two men.

___________

"No!" She shook her head on one of these nights. "No, no, no! I'm sorry, Louis dear, but there is no way you truly believe that anything could come close to the brilliance that is Wuthering Heights! That's nonsense!"

He laughed at her passionate words. She was laid on the couch with her head in Lestat's lap and her legs on Louis', discussing their favorite novels. It was heaven.

This home was so cozy, so sweet. She loved it there. Her head was fuzzy from the champagne they'd fed her for the last few hours, fingers and face stained with charcoal from drawing with Claudia.

"Just because it's your favourite doesn't mean it's the best, sugarcane!" He rebutted kindly.

"No." She said simply. "It is the best. And yes, simply because I say so."

Lestat laughed loudly at that statement, pinching her cheek slightly. "What a brat you are, my girl. Never wavering from your opinions."

She pouted. "So you disagree then?"

"With you?" He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her nose as Louis caressed her thigh. "Never." He said dramatically.

"Oh, so it's ya'll against me now, is it?" The younger vampire cut in playfully. "I see how it is."

Andrea pulled his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss against his knuckles. "We haven't unionised just yet, Louis. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

"Not yet?" He asked. "So you will eventually?"

"She already has me in her thrall. I might not have a choice, mon cher." Lestat weakly defended himself.

"Not my fault." She mumbled lowly.

Louis chuckled. "He was right, you are a brat!" He said, and then pinched her side. She squealed and jumped. "Oh, you're ticklish, aren't you?"

"Louis, don't you dare!" She said. A meaningless warning as he began attacking her skin with a tingling sensation as she thrashed and laughed. "Lestat!"

"I'm not getting involved. This is far too fun to watch!"

"You monster!" Andrea said playfully.

She'd never been happier than in that moment.

__________

As of late, the moment she was left alone with Lestat and Louis it felt like everything was right in the world. She'd feel a title between her legs she had felt with so few people, but also a sense of safety.

"You two love each other, right?" She'd asked one night, lying in their bed. She didn't know how she got there between the drinks and jokes, but there she was, cuddled between them. Louis held her and Lestat had his head rested on her stomach, letting her play with his hair. The younger vampire would occasionally press kisses against her head and Lestat would whine and cuddle closer into her.

Lestat nodded. "Yes, we do, mon cherie. Very much." He answered. "Have you ever been in love?"

Andrea shook her head. "No. I'm only twenty-one, Lestat. I haven't lived long enough to fall in love."

They laughed at the reminder of how young she truly was. A lick and a promise in vampire years, truly.

"I hope I will." She confessed. "I'd like to. Fall in love, have a family."

We could be your family, Lestat wanted to say.

"At the club," Louis spoke. "The girls told me you don't do a lot."

She suddenly remembered that this man was not just her friend, but her bosses boss. Her cheeks grew red with shame and she moved away slightly even as his grip around her kept her firmly with him. "I-I'm sorry. I just—I couldn't—"

"I'm not sayin' it's anything bad, sugarcane. Don't worry." He smiled at her concern. "I just wanna know why?"

This time her cheeks were red with bashfulness. "I've never..." she paused. "I wanted to save it—"

"For a special occasion?" Lestat filled in, looking up at her with mischievous eyes. "That's sweet. Perhaps you shouldn't have taken up work as a prostitute then."

"Lestat!" Louis chided.

"You own the establishment, you don't get to play holier than thou." He scoffed. He then turned back to Andrea. "It truly is a sweet sentiment, though. It's a special thing."

"I think so." She said. She suddenly realised just how close Lestat's face was to the heat between her legs. She felt flushed and nervous.

Louis smirked at her, listening to her shallow breaths and her quick heartbeat. "Huh. Are we special to you, Andy?"

She nodded, unknowing of their thoughts. "Yes."

"How special?" He asked.

"Incredibly. You're my muses." She answered honestly, her head fuzzy.

Lestat's hand snuck under her dress, caressing her calf gently. He began to slowly bunch her dress up and pull it up, up, up her thighs.

Louis pressed a kiss on her forehead, and then her eye, her nose her cheek and finally her lips. She gasped at the two sensations, Louis dominating her mouth with his own and taking her in like she belonged within him. He held her neck with one hand and caressed her chest with his other. He pulled away and she whined.

Lestat bunched her dress over her hips and pulled her panties down her legs, throwing them haphazardly somewhere in the room. Another whine left her lips.

"You sure about this?" Asked Louis, lips swollen.

She nodded once at him and then down at Lestat. "Yes. Yes. Yes."

"Truly?" Asked Lestat.

"For tonight only, yes. I trust you." For tonight only. As if they'd let her slip from their grasp after this.

Given her profession, she wanted to get this over with soon, and now she had someone to do it with. Someone to guide her, to care for her and talk her through it. She knew she'd be leaving for New York soon, so didn't allow herself to think of any deeper relationship developing, and she thought she'd made that clear with her statement. For tonight only.

Louis' mouth was against hers again in a flash and Lestat went to work devouring her.

That night they took her in every way they could, and in their minds, had laid claim to her body as they had to her mind.

____________

Julian did not like the fact that she was with them so often. Not only was she with strange men at late hours, she wasn't bringing home any money. The money they'd given her for the painting had quickly run out and she couldn't find it in herself to ask for more.

"You can't keep doing this, Andrea." He'd sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know you're enjoying yourself, and that's fine, I'm happy for you, but they ain't good for you, I swear."

She looked up at him from her seat on the floor of their apartment. "I like them. They're very nice to me." Andrea said, nervously playing with her hair.

He kneeled down in front of her with a concerned look on his face. "I know." He said, cupping her face. "I know that. But we gotta start buckling down. We're getting so close to New York." He said happily.

She gasped. "We are?!" She jumped to her feet, giddy. "New York, Julian! New York!"

"New-fucking-York!" He hollered, joining her in her excitement. "Woo-hoo!"

"Yes, finally!" She cried, years of stress falling off her shoulders. "How much more do we need?"

When he told her the number, she sighed in relief. All she needed was one more client to make that much. Sure, no one in the Azelea approached her anymore, but for this she'd be the one to initiate. Just a little more money, that was all, and they'd be free.

"I can get that." She told him confidently. "I swear to you, Julian, I'll get us that money, and we'll be out of here."

He sighed. "Andrea, you don't have to—"

"I do though." She interrupted. "And I will. I promise. Let me take care of this one thing, please."

And reluctantly, he let her.

That night she walked into the establishment with a goal, not even noticing the looks of confusion she got from Louis and Lestat. Not noticing them at all really.

She set her sights on the drunk man who was sat in the corner and had zeroed in on her the moment she walked through the doors. He was from out of town, she was sure. She hadn't seen him before that night, so he was perfect.

She didn't know the eyes trained on her as she finished her work and was given the money. Her body felt used, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She had the money now, and immediately went to speak to Bricks, so she could quit.

The older woman had looked her up and down sceptically. "You sure about this?"

"Yes. I am, Bricks." Andrea had said with a large smile. "I've got the money now. Me and my brother and I are heading to New York."

Her brows furrowed at those words. "Mister du Lac know about that?"

"Louis?" Andrea said, slightly shocked. "I'll say my goodbyes to him before I go. I don't see how he's part of this exchange."

"So he doesn't know." She filled in. "You might wanna talk to him before you quit."

"Why?"

But Bricks couldn't answer that. Or rather, she wouldn't. She hesitated to say anything, but knew her boss would want to be told as soon as possible.

So instead of supplying an answer, she just shook her head. "No reason. Just to let him know he's losing one of his girls." She clarified. "Good luck in New York, muffin."

She sighed, relieved. "Thank you, Bricks."

____________

When she'd arrived home, Julian had already started packing. She'd shown him the money and he'd thrown his arms around her with such glee, she never wanted the feeling to go away.

They laughed and teased each other as they threw their clothes into the suitcases, making plans for what they would do in their new city. Andrea had never been so happy before.

A knock sounded at their door. Julian furrowed his brows. "Expecting company?" He asked her.

She shook her head confusedly. "No. You?"

He shook his head as well, and then went to asked the door. She shrugged and continued packing.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, can I help you?" Julian asked their unexpected visitors.

She couldn't hear the rest of the conversation, it was quiet and muffled but then she made out the sound of Julian shouting.

Julian never shouted. He was a calm man with a good head on his shoulders. What had gotten him so out of himself?

She put her clothes down and walked out of the room, eyes immediately landing on the scene before her.

It was her angels, Lestat and Louis. The former had Julian up against the wall with his hand around his throat, and Louis just watched her.

She shrieked at the sight. "What are you doing?!"

Louis just shook his head at her and pointed his finger. "New York?" He asked accusingly.

She only nodded, confused. "What?"

"You're going to New York? Seriously?"

She swallowed her fear. "I was going to come say goodbye before we left, of course I was—"

But that wasn't the problem. He sped in front of her, his face so close to her own she could feel his angry huffing against her skin.

"After you made your money, right?" He seethed.

She shook. "How did you—"

"Before we could rip that dumb fucker off of you and chop his hands off?" It came out like a shout and she flinched, her ears aching.

She looked away from him and directly at Julian. "Lestat, please get off him!"

He only laughed mockingly and pressed her brother harder against the wall. "I don't think so, ma petit faon. He's the reason you want to leave, yes?"

She shook her head urgently. "No, no, we've had this plan for years—"

"But it was him." Lestat continued. "If he wasn't with you, you wouldn't even have thought about it. You'd be content with us."

"With you?" She repeated, fear and confusion getting the best of her. "It was one night, I told you it would be! I don't understand! Please just let him go!"

The blonde tilted his head, as if thinking. "Alright." And then Julian was thrown onto the other side of the room.

Andrea cried out. Her brother was hurt, hurt by the man she considered so horribly important. He must've broken something, bruised some other parts, and when she saw the blood staining his head she jolted forward. She needed to take care of him, to get him away from these people he'd been right about, she needed him to be better, she could make him better.

But Louis would not let her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist as she thrashed in his hold like a wild animal. "Sh, sh, sh, sh. It's okay. It's okay." He cooed in her ear. She was horrified, kicking and scratching at him but he didn't even blink.

"No, no! Julian!" She screamed. But he was unresponsive, minus some slight groans falling from his lips.

Lestat sauntered before her, flicking his wrist and looking down at her brother. Then he looked directly at her, placing his hands on her face like Julian used to. He pressed his lips to her temple and inhaled her scent, an angry hiss like sound leaving his lips. "I can still smell him on you." He sneered. "You really thought you could leave, sweet girl? This is your home, we are your home." He insisted.

Andrea still struggled against Louis' hold, tears streaming down her face. "He's right. Andy, he's right." She other spoke into her ear. "Please, just listen."

She wept as he spoke. "What are you?"

They paused at the question, Louis looking down in shame but Lestat ready to answer.

"Vampires, dear girl. We're vampires."

That sounded ridiculous. But she thought about it for a moment; they were only out at night, she never saw them eating, some men seen at the club once were never seen again, and their strength. The strength to throw Julian across a room without blinking an eye. There was no way, no possible, tangible way. But it was true.

Angels. She'd seen them as angels, when they were exactly the opposite. Their beauty was unearthly, but not divine. It was damned.

She breathed heavily, panic shooting up and down her chest. She thrashed even more, screeching like a wild monster. "Let me go! Let me go! Julian!"

Lestat's eyes grew soft and full of pity. His poor Andrea. His poor, beautiful Andrea who did not deserve to feel any of this pain. If only she'd told them before hand, and they couldn't removed this ridiculous notion from her head.

"Don't concern yourself with him." He cooed. "Soon enough, he'll be gone, and you'll be with us."

"Just listen to him, sugarcane. We'll be happy, I promise." Louis spoke softly into her ear.

He nodded towards his companion, a secret promise for something that must be done. As long as Julian was alive, he would haunt her every memory, even if they made her forget him. Even if they made him forget her, he'd see the pictures or read his diaries and look for her. He needed to be taken care of, so Andrea could be taken care of.

"But for now," Lestat said, walking back to the groaning body of her brother. He wrapped his hand around his neck again, twisting.

"No!" She cried, sobbing.

"Rest." Said Lestat. The last thing she heard before her eyes shut was a sickening snap! and the horrifying promises of her new life.

_______________

Present time

They'd made her forget it all. Replaced her memories of her brother with memories of a childhood friend who'd passed when they were young. Julian no longer existed to her, or to anyone at all. Until things began to click.

All she remembered was changing her mind about New York and running to their townhouse to confess her love, and they'd taken her in with open arms. Over the last four years, they'd crafted somewhat of a perfect relationship. They all worked together so well, and Claudia had been beside herself when Andrea had become a permanent fixture in their home.

It took no more than a month for her to refer to Andrea as Mama. Andrea was finally a mother, and her child was perfect.

But she was leaving. On the night the three of them had gone hunting together, she'd laid in bed and searched her mind for every one of your hidden memories, finally breaking through their brainwashing. She'd panicked immediately, grasping at her chest and finding disgust in every inch of the home, her paintings included.

They were hanged all over the house, in the coffin room, the living room, the hallways. Lestat said it was a shrine to her greatness. She wanted to puke.

She'd packed a bag and gotten a ride to the docks before they'd come back, buying the next ticket out. She wasn't even sure where the boat was headed, but knew it was far away from New Orleans. Perhaps she could make it to New York someday, fulfil her brother's dream. Honour him somehow. Guilt clawed at her chest. She should honour him, she'd gotten him killed. Her and her stupid love for those creatures.

She waited impatiently. She looked around her, and something suddenly felt very wrong. There was no one there. It wasn't odd at this time of night, but weren't there people working at the docks? It was so, very quiet, hauntingly quiet. She thought it was impossible to hear silence until tonight.

Panic grasped at her chest and she set her suitcase on the ground beside her. "Hello?" She called out. "Hello?" Again. No answer. She walked away to find another, perhaps safer spot.

A flash somewhere in the distance. No. They couldn't have. But they did. They found her. They'd fucking found her.

She ran, her suitcase long forgotten. But she couldn't run for long. They were vampires, apex predators with an all seeing eye. She would be caught and shoved back into her gilded cage soon enough.

But she still had hope she could run. She still had hope for her freedom. How stupid she was.

She kneeled between two crates, trying to keep her whimpering to a minimum but could not help her frightened noises. What would they do if they caught her? Would they hurt her? No, no, they wouldn't. They couldn't. Could they? She heard quick steps and angry breaths from near her and slapped her hand against her mouth. Her eyes widened and she curled into herself.

They would not get to her. She was alright, she deserved to make her own decisions for once. They wouldn't take it from her this time. She'd sooner die than let her take the last bit of herself she had left. But she was so afraid, so horribly afraid. It rung in her ears like a wasps nest, the constant ringing of a threat nearby. Her instinct was to flee, but they would catch her faster if she did.

Only when she heard the steps move further away, did she raise herself to her feet and carefully move away.

That was the wrong decision.

She bumped into something immediately, and then hands shot out to grasp her forearms. "Andrea? Oh, thank God."

It was Louis. He seemed so relieved to see her. It disgusted her to her very core. She reacted immediately, slamming her heal onto his toes. It didn't hurt, but it shocked him enough for him to suddenly release her. He cried out and she ran into a clearing. She didn't know where it led, but it was far away from him.

"Andrea!" He roared from behind her.

For a moment she thought she lost him, but she knew better than to be hopeful.

"Bonjour, ma petit faon." A voice spoke from beside her ear. She jumped to face him, but he simply held her to him tightly, her face pressed against his chest.

She shook in his hold, and thrashed slightly, but he grasped her arms and held her in front of him like a prized calf. "Oh, my precious girl."

"You killed him. You killed Julian, you monster!" She pushed her hands against his chest.

He just nodded slowly. "Yes, I did. And I did it for you. Just like I do everything for you."

"No, you did it for you! For you and for Louis! You killed him, you fucking killed him!" She was wild now, unforgiving, with nothing left to lose but her own life.

His face was now full of rage as he tugged her closer. "It was an act of love. The truest kind. I did what was best for you, I won't have you deny this."

"Let me go, Lestat!" Andrea begged.

He looked her up and down, as if considering something. A long pause between the two of them.

"Alright." He said. "Run."

"What?" She breathed.

"I'll give you your chance." He said simply, his face growing feral. "Run."

The game was beginning. His sweet fawn wanted to run, he would let her. He was a hunter, after all, and a hunter needed his prey. She could run all she wanted, her pretty little feet would tap against the ground and she'd search for safety, doe eyed and lost. He'd take her, bind her and bring her home. Home.

He dug his hand into her hair and pulled. "Run." He hissed.

So she did. The lovely little prey with two monsters on her tail.

She tried her best to slow her heartbeat, blood rushing into her ears and her throat closing up with unshed tears.

He took pleasure in this, she was sure. Two pairs of steps were behind her, and now she knew Louis had joined in and he was fucking pissed. While Lestat was playful, the other truly angry.

She ran? She actually fucking ran? How dare she, he thought to himself. They'd done everything for her, welcomed her into their family, and Andrea ran.

He'd get her, they'd get her, and make sure the thought of leaving never crossed her mind again.

She hid behind another crate, just to catch her breath for a moment.

"Come on out, sugarcane!" Louis called out, tired of this chase.

Lestat chuckled deeply at his anger. "What do you think, Louis?" He opened one crate with a flick of his fingers. "Is she in here?" It fell against the ground loudly. Andrea almost shrieked. "No. Our little fawn has sprinted further away."

"I'm getting real tired of these games, Andrea!" Louis huffed.

She carefully lowered her hand from her mouth and swallowed her fear.

Everything went silent and for a moment she thought she'd gotten away.

Then Lestat was before her again, a mocking, self-satisfied smirk on his face. "There she is."

Defeated, she just curled into herself. "No, no, no. Please just let me go."

"And let you slip between our fingers? Go where we cannot find you? I don't think so, dear girl." He shook his head.

Louis shot out to grasp her forearm and pulled her to her feet. He looked her up and down, anger pulsing from his body. But then his eyes creased in concern. "Are you hurt?" He asked shakily.

She shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes. He nodded. "Good. Good. That was a stupid thing you did. You scared me. Claudia's worried sick." And then he pulled Andrea into his arms, cradling her head like she was made of glass.

Her body shook with sobs, feeling so utterly undone, that she could no longer fight them. She'd tried and failed to get away. She didn't even want to think what they'd to to her now.

He pulled away and his face was confusing, half fuming half depressed. She didn't understand what he wanted her to say.

"That was fun." Lestat chimed in before he took her jaw in his hand with an iron grip. "But never again, Andrea. You don't run from us." He demanded. "Say it, you don't run from us."

Tears ran down her face. "I don't run from you."

"Good girl." And then he kissed her. It stopped her breath, but he didn't care. He wanted all of her, wanted to consume her being and take it into himself. She was him and he would be her once he had his way.

Before she could catch her breath, Louis kissed her as well and his kiss was desperate as if he searching for something within her that would satiate his hunger. She'd almost slipped away from him, and perhaps here and now he could show her how much he needed her, but he wasn't sure she'd ever know.

She was their light in the darkness, their rose eyed beauty who saw them as angels. Who saw them beyond their vampiric nature, and understood that they too could be good.

Unfortunately, Andrea was aware how delusional this was.

When Louis pulled away she finally breathed, tears streaming down her face. Lestat held her close and kissed away her tears. They loved her, in their own horrible way, they loved her.

"Home." Lestat said. "Let's take you home."

And home they went.

_______________

They didn't let her go out much after that, and hadn't bothered to erase her memories. She'd just find out again, and would try her luck in running once more. They'd rather keep her as she is, with the reassurance she wouldn't try and escape.

They'd also forbidden her from telling Claudia what had happened, and they said they'd know if she did. They'd lied to her and just told her that Andrea had lost track of time while painting in the park.

Andrea was relatively numb these days, except when she was with her daughter. She was in bed with Claudia, holding her tightly to her chest.

She watched her mother carefully, concern etched on her features. "Mama, what is it?"

"Nothing, baby." She assured with an unconvincing smile.

Claudia didn't believe her. "It's something. Did you fight with Daddy Lou and Uncle Les?"

It wasn't a fight, it was a fucking hunt. But she couldn't say that to her daughter. "No, Claudia. I'm just tired, I promise."

"Then I believe the time has come to sleep." They heard Lestat from the doorway. He leaned against the frame, a satisfied expression on his face. He was content, it seemed. "Say good night to Mama, Claudia."

The girl vampire frowned but pressed a kiss to her mothers cheek. "Good night, mama. I love you."

Andrea cupped her face. "I love you too."

She got off the bed and walked towards Lestat who held a hand out for his companion. She took it, but did meet his eyes.

He held her close as they made their way to the coffin room. She was already in her sleep wear, same with the other two. Louis walked into the room after them, having said good night to his daughter before joining them.

To the side of the coffin they shared, another one of her paintings lay. It was dark and stormy, two bodies falling through the sky, completely disfigured and angry. Angels wings turned leathery and rough, blood dripping from their mouths, but it was also a bit too blurry to truly make out. It was horrifying.

Louis took one look at it. "New painting?"

She didn't reply, only nodded.

He tried so smile at her. "It's nice."

Lestat pressed a kiss to her head and then allowed her to settle beside him in the coffin. "You've always been so talented, ma petit faon. It was your artistic eye that made us fall for you, I think."

Louis laid on her other side, making it an insanely tight fit, but they would have it no other way.

If they had looked at her painting a little longer, they would've noticed the eyes of the demons she had painted. One pair a disturbing emerald green, and the other an unsettlingly light shade of blue.

[pathologicalreid]

heyyyy how ruu

english is not my first language so i hope you can understand this u.u

this idea has been consuming my brain for days, sooo basically i was thinking about bau fem reader and reid doing undercover work (idk) and when they see the unsub, reader's first thought is to kiss reid so the unsub can't recognize them (and he wouldnt waste time in 2 ppl kissing???), then when reader sees the unsub going towards the exit even though she doesnt want to she breaks the kiss and everything is awkward but in a cute way??? yea idk if this makes sense feel free to change anything or to not do it at all :]

in plain sight | S.R.

your quick thinking (in an attempt to protect him) leads to a thankful spencer

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: reader is explicitly referred to as a woman. general cm violence. making out (for the plot). haphazardly proofread. word count: 1.19k a/n: no worries anon, i understood this perfectly! thank you so much for requesting!

Your firearm was digging into your hip as you leaned up against the wall of the bar. You were on high alert as you looked around the building, scanning the faces of people who walked by.

“L/N, Reid, anything?” Hotch called into the radios. The team was across the street in a surveillance van.

Quickly, your eyes met Spencer’s, “No sign of the suspect.” Silently, you hoped that Hotch would pull you from the bar and let you go back to the hotel for the night, but you knew that wasn’t the way your unit chief played the game.

You were more or less trapped inside a college bar, your shoes were sticking to the old wooden floor, and because you and Spencer were the youngest members of the team, you were voluntold to go undercover.

Reid had never looked more out of place, but he was twelve when he started college, so you supposed he had never really been in a dive bar like this one before. “Hey,” you said softly, “Are you alright?” You knew he had a thing about germs, and if you were bothered by the sticky floors, you couldn’t imagine how he was feeling.

“I’m sure this comes as a surprise, but this,” he gestured to the partying college kids around you, “isn’t really my scene.”

A small laugh bubbled up from your throat, “Oh, no. I never would’ve guessed,” you played along with his sarcasm. “I’m afraid my shoes are going to come off when I try to walk,” you admitted.

He smiled slightly, “I’m trying not to think about it.”

Tentatively, you moved a little closer to him so you wouldn’t have to shout over the music. “I thought the UnSub hunted around ten?” You questioned. All of the bodies were usually found at midnight with lividity just barely beginning to show, meaning the victims were picked at ten, killed by eleven, and found at midnight.

They were calling him the Countdown Killer because he kept on such a tight schedule. “He should be,” Spencer answered, glancing down at the watch on his wrist.

You looked around the bar, the both of you had your backs to a wall, so you weren’t exposed on that side.

“Remember, if you spot him, do not engage,” Hotch ordered through your radios. You and Reid were simply there to find him, the rest of the team would handle the chase. “He’s likely been watching the news, so he may recognize your faces – don’t let him.”

While you weren’t entirely sure how you were supposed to hide your face from the suspect without seeming suspicious, you confirmed the plan with Hotch anyway.

 A gleam of blonde caught your eye, narrowing your eyes, you focused on the figure. “Spencer,” you swatted at his hand, “two o’clock.”

Discreetly, Spencer’s gaze flickered over in the direction you had suggested. “Turn around,” Spencer said, “Don’t let him see your face.”

You turned around so that you were facing Spencer, looking away from the suspect. “What about your face?” You asked, surely the both of you staring at the brick wall would seem suspicious.

“He’s killing women. I don’t want him to notice you,” he responded, momentarily looking past you and at the suspect.

Surprised, you furrowed your brows at Reid’s statement, by having you face him, he was trying to protect you. You turned your face into your shoulder, “Suspect is in the bar,” you whispered into your mic.

There was recognition from the rest of the team before it went quiet again. “He’s approaching us,” Spencer said, faint alarm springing onto his features. He wasn’t talking into the radio; he was letting you know.

Spencer might’ve been outside of the victimology, but you couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him if the suspect recognized him.

Instinctively, you leaned up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his. You were kissing Spencer.

At first, he was surprised, but his hands quickly found a home on your waist as he kissed you back. Your lips worked gently on his as he eased his mouth open, deepening the kiss. Abruptly, Spencer dragged you closer to him by the waist. The sudden movement caused your eyes to flutter open.

In your periphery, you could see the dangerous blonde walking away. He must’ve walked right past you, and Spencer had pulled you away from him. You let your eyes fall shut again.

You reached up to sling your arms over his shoulders as he experimentally slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your heart raced as you were fully making out with Spencer in the college bar.

Reluctantly, you separated yourself from Spencer, “Is he gone?” You whispered, peering up at him through your eyelashes.

Spencer nodded, swallowing thickly. His cheeks were tinted pink, and you were sure you were flushed as well.

You pressed your mic button, not taking your eyes off Spencer’s, “Suspect’s exiting out the rear door,” you notified the team. Suddenly, your job was done, and you became conscious of Spencer’s hands where they still remained on your waist.

Hotch asked you to report to the van, and you took Spencer’s hand and led him out of the bar. The cool night air calmed your rushing blood. “Thank you for that,” he said from behind you as you halted to look for passing cars.

You spun on your heel to look at him, “Did you just thank me for kissing you?”

“I thanked you for distracting the suspect, so he didn’t recognize me,” Spencer corrected, squeezing your hand.

Instinctively, you dropped his hand, “Right, me and my quick thinking.” There was not a single clear thought in your head. You started crossing the street as Spencer called your name, obviously confused.

You yanked your earbud out while the rest of the team was rambling on about the takedown over the comms. “What just happened?” Spencer asked.

“We made out in a bar, and you thanked me for it,” you answered stiffly, leaning your back against the white van. “So, you’re welcome,” you said. Really, you didn’t know what you wanted from him, and you knew that Reid’s experience with women was limited at best.

Surprisingly, Spencer rested a hand on either side of your head and leaned intoxicatingly close to you, “Did you want me to say something else to you?”

You looked up at him, you weren’t sure you had ever noticed the green flecks in his eyes, “I had a few ideas, yes.”

“Here was my other option,” he told you, dropping his head so that your lips met once again. You gasped into his mouth in surprise. Hesitantly, you placed one hand on the side of his neck and the other in his hair. He used both of his hands to cup your face, kissing you with less urgency than you had in the bar as if you had all of the time in the world.

The both of you jumped when the passenger side door to the van swung open and Emily poked her head out, “You know we can see you in the side mirrors, right?”

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Taste of the Devil

!!!!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! 18+

Summary: When your girlfriend needs your help, you are more than willing to offer your services.

Warning: vampire!Kate Bishop, super solider!Reader, smut, fluff, lots of talk of blood, dom!reader, sub!Kate, mention of subspace, fingering (Kate receiving), nipple play (Kate reciving), reader is a little freaky, pet names, swearing, no y/n, no physical description of reader but they are strong, poorly written smut lol

Word Count: 2.4K

“Shit, fuck,” you heard your girlfriend say when you entered your shared apartment. Kate swore like a trucker, so that was no surprise to hear, but her worried tone made you realize something was wrong. You toed off your shoes and gently closed the door behind you. No one heard you come in, not even your girlfriend’s four-legged companion. The dog was trying to provide some comfort to his distraught owner. The archer was on the couch, her hands covering her face and leaning back.

“Katie girl,” you said softly, not wanting to startle the girl, and sat down next to her. Lucky’s ears pricked up at your sudden appearance, but he kept his head on Kate’s lap. “What’s wrong?” she threw her hands to the side with a huff.

“Problem at the blood bank,” she mumbled. Her left leg started to bounce. “Tony can’t get any.” Ah, there it was. She was hungry.

“When was the last time you ate?” You whispered, even though no one else was in the apartment.

“Last week, maybe. I can’t remember. It’s been busy,” Kate was right. Usually, you were better at picking up on her cues when she was hungry. But you were stretched thing with helping the Avengers and Yelena. “Tony said it might come in tomorrow or the day after, but I-”

“You’re hungry,” you placed your hand on the back of her neck and gave it a comforting squeeze. The contrasting temperature of her skin against yours was one of your favorite things about dating Kate. You knew the archer was different the moment you were introduced to her. With your enhanced senses, you could never hear a heartbeat and never hear her inhale air into her lungs. Sometimes, you caught her eyes flickering from blue to red—her healing ability was on par with or better than yours.

You became fascinated with the archer, and a close friendship turned into you asking her out on a date. She told you the truth about what she was: a vampire. The Bishop family can be traced back to the 18th century.

Sometimes, you forget how powerful your girlfriend is. Most of the time, she was gentle and soft. She was easy to fluster, and she stumbled over her words when you told her how beautiful she looked. She was your Katie girl, the best dog mom, and a little clumsy from time to time. Under all that, she was a predator, and predators needed to be fed.

Which led to the current predicament. Her kind stopped feeding on humans centuries ago due to the donation of blood banks; Tony was in charge of all the paperwork. She was an animal lover and hated the idea of hunting. Besides, she told you that blood tastes weird if the animal had a disease. The same was said for humans. Humans poured junk into their bodies - drugs, alcohol, even vitamins, and it could be tasted in their blood. Clean blood is hard to come by, Kate said.

However, that got you thinking about what you tasted like. You knew you smelt good to her. On movie nights, her nose would be pressed against your neck, and her deep inhales and exhales caused goosebumps to form on your skin. She said you smelt earthy, like the smell of rain - a dampened forest, a mixture of pine and mass. The deep, earthy scent of the Earth after a storm.

Maybe it was wrong to fantasize how it would feel to have her drink from you. The sharp pinch of her teeth and the way she would be filled with your blood. You pushed those selfish thoughts away. “You know,” you said slowly, playing with the baby hairs that couldn’t be pulled into her ponytail. “You could drink from me.” Kate physically recoiled away from you. Your hand fell to the couch.

“No,” she snapped.

“Baby,” you tried to move closer to her, but she stopped you. “You can’t hurt me.”

“We don’t know that,” she countered. Yes, but you’ve endured worse injuries. Even Professor Xavier was impressed with your healing ability. It was as good as Logan’s. There was one time you traveled from Russia way back to the city with a piece of rebar in your side. You were proud of yourself, and you only passed out once.

“You need to eat. I bet you are starting to get a headache,” she allowed you to touch her temples and massage the area. She moaned quietly at the relief. “My little bat,” you cooed. “Aren’t you a little curious about what I taste like?” Her eyes turned red, and every bit of blue was gone, as she looked at the vein in your neck.

“Do you want me to bite you?” Her voice shook. Her resolve was breaking.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t 100% okay with it,” you wondered if she could hear your heartbeat. The very idea of it sent your body into overdrive. You were excited, nervous, and maybe a little turned on.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Okay,” you repeated.

*

Kate brought Lucky upstairs and locked him in your shared room with a Kong, bones, and toys. You changed into a white tank top and a pair of sweatpants. You sat on the couch, patiently waiting for Kate. Tapping your hands on your thighs, you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. “You can change your mind,” you turned to see Kate. She also changed into one of your shirts and sleep shots. “I can hear your heart pounding from upstairs.” You chuckled.

“Just anxious,” you told her as she sat beside you. “Just don’t go all Dracula on me.” The archer glared at you.

“I hate that movie,” she said. “It ruined the image of my kind.” You laughed and cupped her cheek.

“I’m sorry, baby, I trust you,” you kissed her softly. “It’s okay. Feed.” You felt her letting out a shaky exhale against your lips.

“Stay still, okay?” You nodded and tried to control your breathing as she leaned into your neck. You expected her to sink her teeth into your skin. Instead, you felt her lips kiss the spot, gently soothing the area with her tongue. It was a nice gesture, but it did not help the beating of your heart. Her cold fingers touched the vein. “Just stay still,” she repeated. “I-” she stopped before she could finish her sentence and sunk her teeth into you.

“Shit,” you grunted in pain, face contracting briefly. Soon, it was replaced with pleasure that washed over your entire body.

You remembered Kate telling you how intimate it was to drink from a person. It was why she tried to avoid it even when it was allowed. This feeling was euphoric, something you’ve experienced before. Her lips on your neck as she sucked and fed on you was sending you into a spiral. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins, and you loved it. You were addicted to it.

You grabbed the nap of her neck and pulled her against you, demanding her to be closer. Her hand moved to your chest, pinning you to the couch. It was a silent reminder to stay still, but the sudden display of strength caused your hips to buckle.

“I said,” she detached herself from your neck. “Stay still,” she licked the wound she created. “Shit,” she said in disbelief. “You do heal fast.” You chuckled and turned to look at her. Her eyes were slowly returning to their normal color, but she needed more. Without any words, you pulled her onto your lap. She gasped at the sudden movement.

“Then bite me again,” you whispered, breathlessly. Kate looked you over, probably checking to make sure you were okay with continuing. The second bite was much less hesitant, and you knew the type of pain to expect. Instead of holding onto her neck, you moved your hands to her hips. Both of your hips buckled into each other. Her moan rattled through your body.

“Fuck,” your eyes rolled in the back of your head and grabbed her ass. It was on instinct to start moving her hips against you. Your body was on fire. Every sense was Kate. Her cold skin against yours. The soft moans in your ears. The smell of her arousal hit your nose. “So fucking beautiful,” you groaned. Your hands traveled underneath her (your) shirt and covered each inch of her skin with your hands. You pinched one of her nipples, and she removed her teeth from you as a quiet moan ripped through her. Kate’s hips stopped moving as her forehead rested against yours. Her eyes were closed, but her chest was heaving like she ran a marathon.

“Did I tell you to stop?” you asked. Her eyes snapped open. Gone was the red, but they were glossy—a look she only got when you pushed her into a certain headspace. “Awe, my poor baby,” you cooed. Did your head get all fuzzy because you are full of my blood?” She wined, eyes rolling back slightly. “Do you always get wet when you feed?” you joked.

“Do you always get wet when someone bites you?” She used your words against you.

“Cheeky little bat,” you smiled, connecting your lips with hers. You pushed your tongue into your mouth and moaned at the taste of your blood. Shit, when did you turn into a freak? “How do I taste?” It was your turn to press kisses against the column of her throat.

“Sweet,” she began to move her hips against yours. “Like honey,” she chuckled breathlessly. “Better than the blood bags.” You took great pride in that statement. You knew you weren’t the greatest with your body, drowning your past in alcohol and the occasional drug use. It must be the serum she was tasting that ran through your veins. Still, if those were going to be a recurring trend, you made a promise to yourself to treat your body better.

“I guess you have your personal blood bag,” you teased, and your hand moved over the top of her shorts. “Shit, baby,” you ran the tip of your fingers over her folds and collected the wetness. “You’re soaked.” Her head fell to your shoulder.

“Please,” the archer mumbled. A simple kiss to your neck sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Please, what, Katie girl?” You teased. “Use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me.” She huffed and sat up straighter to look down at you.

“Need-” A moan interrupted her as you began to rub her clit. It was such a beautiful sound that made your clit throb. “Need your fingers.” She added a pout and gave you her best puppy dog eyes she could muster; you chuckled and applied more pressure.

“My fingers?” You questioned with a confused tilt of your head. “You have my fingers. I’m touching you right now. Is this not enough?” You were being mean. You knew it was hard for her to form words when she got like this. But you would give it to her. All she had to do was say it.

“Inside,” she groaned, her hips became frantic. “Need your fingers inside. Need to cum all over them.” Bingo. There it was. Usually, it took her longer, but she must be desperate for release. With how busy it has been, you haven’t had time for this.

“Good girl,” you praised. She was wet enough to slip two fingers inside her easily. She gasped at the sudden feeling; her hands gripped both your shoulders, and her eyes rolled back. “So wet and warm, baby,” you moaned and pushed her shirt up. “Come on, little bat,” you encouraged. “Take what you need.” She did, and damn, it was a sight to behold.

Kate rode your fingers with a fierce determination to get herself off. She was gorgeous, and you counted yourself to see her like this. Her pussy squeezed your fingers, and the smell of her arousal mixed with her moans and the blood loss was bringing you embarrassingly close without being touched. Ignoring the ache in your wrist, you leaned forward and swirled your tongue around her nipple. You smirked at the gasp.

She was close. All these months together with Kate, you knew her tells. Her hips would begin to stutter and lose their rhythm. She became more vocal. Your girlfriend wasn’t loud during sex, but it always excited you when you could pull a loud moan from her. The final tell was her eyes. The blue of eyes darkened, almost black. It was intoxicating that you were the one giving her this pleasure. She wore your shirt. She fed on your blood. Your fingers were going to make her cum.

“Close,” she moaned. “‘M so fucking close. I need-”

“Take it, baby,” you encouraged. “Take whatever you need.” You expected her to push your hand closer to her so your palm would be against her clit, or she wanted you to kiss her. Instead, she leaned forward and sunk her teeth into your neck.

“Fuck yes,” you moaned and used your free hand to lite Kate up slightly. The sound was obscene. Your fingers moved faster. You felt her witness drip down your hand. “Cum for me, baby, please,” you pleaded. Her body went ridged against you, and you felt the coil snap deep in the pit of your stomach. You kept your fingers moving to help ride out her high and only stopped when she slumped against you. Her teeth released from your neck, and her nose nuzzled against you. Her breath tickled you. “I’m going to pull my fingers out, okay?” You felt her nod. Removing them slowly, you cooed softly as she hissed from the overestimation. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she mumbled. Sleepy.” You chuckled and kept her against your chest as you moved to lay follow on the couch. Slowly, you removed the ponytail from her hair and brushed the strands with your fingers. A list of things ran through your mind. You wanted to draw Kate a bath, let Lucky out, and eat something for yourself. Helen would give you a juice box and an orange when you had donated blood.

“Baby,” you hummed, so Kate knew you heard her. She moved so her chin rested on your chest. Her eyes were back to their normal blue—your favorite color. They were like diamonds—calm but bold, warm but cold. They were windows to her soul, and her gaze felt like home. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Always,” you smiled. “I love you, my little bat. Now and forever.”

[moonchild9350]

Prey

Summary: In a world where vampires and humans coexist albiet not peacefully, you come to realize everything is not as it seems after meeting Hyunjin.

Pairing: Vampire Hyunjin x fab reader

Genre: thriller, fluff, smut 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: stalking, coercion (briefly), breaking and entering?, description of blood (obviously), blood tasting, nipple play, fingering, monster fucking, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, squirting.

Notes: This is my first fic for my spooktober event! Yes this is a vampire fic. I had fun with this and added my own twists to what we know as vampires hehe so don't come after me lol. I hope you like it and it gets you into the spooky mood hehe.

If you enjoyed this, likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated as they keep me motivated ♡

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Night is purer than day; it is better for thinking and loving and dreaming. At night everything is more intense, more true.” -Ellie Wiesel

You’ve never been afraid of the dark. You could sit in a dark space for hours, listening to the sounds around you, feeling the air move through your fingertips. No, the dark never bothered you. What you did fear was what is lurking in the shadows, creatures of your deepest nightmares watching your every move, waiting to pounce on you.

You felt like prey at night, always feeling like you were being hunted. You lived in a world that included vampires, creatures of the night mostly.

Growing up, you were told to avoid them at all costs, that they were dangerous, cunning, beings that shouldn’t walk the earth. Your mother instilled these thoughts into your head, making you promise to never associate with one of these beings.

Not wanting to upset your mother, you promised, the fear taking root deep in your core. Now as an adult, you still kept that promise. You never interacted with them, avoiding them at all costs if you could. You also made sure to be home before nightfall, afraid for what was lurking in the dark or who.

You were mindful of this fact as you prepped for the day. You needed to go to the library to work on a project for work, which would take up the majority of your day. Packing your bag, you grabbed a sweater and left, making your way to the town’s local library.

It was a cool day, autumn in full swing. The leaves were changing colors to vibrant shades of red, orange, and yellow. Some leaves already have fallen from the trees, landing on the sidewalk, the crunch echoing as you stepped on each one.

You hoped your friend had made it to the library first, making sure to get the good seats. You knew she would have a warm London fog with her, as she knew what your favorite drink was.

It didn’t take long for you to arrive, the old building looming in the center of town. You marched up the steps and opened the door, a burst of warm air enveloping you like a cozy blanket. You scanned the area, looking for your friend Aria, finding her at a desk next to one of the many windows.

She was engrossed in a book, her nose almost touching the pages. You chuckled and walked over before blowing on her face, startling her. She narrowed her eyes at you while clutching her chest, “that wasn’t very nice.”

You grinned, pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Is that for me?” You asked, hope in your eyes as you eyed the cup next to her.

“It is, although you don’t deserve it after the stunt you just pulled.”

You rolled your eyes and reached for the drink. “So dramatic. Thank you.”

Aria stuck her tongue out at you and then went back to her book, her nose once more barely touching the page.

You started to unpack and set up for the day, gazing through your list of things to do. Opening up one of the books you brought with you, you started to skim through it looking for information for your project.

You became lost in your work, the silence settling around you, the only sounds heard were the occasional rustle of paper. You were making progress, however, you needed more books as references. You signaled to Aria that you were going to go look for more books. She nodded her head and went back to reading as you got up and stretched your legs.

You walked over to the non-fiction section and started browsing the titles, looking for anything that may be useful for your project. You were so engrossed in searching that you didn’t see the man standing in the aisle, book in hand. You bumped into him causing him to drop his book, startling you.

“Oh, I’m so sor…” your words died off as you looked at the man before you.

Your breath caught as you eyed him, taking in his looks. He was tall, looming over your figure easily. His face was beautiful, reminding you of Adonis. His eyes were a dark, chocolate brown, the orbs piercing, but yet gentle. You felt lost in his gaze, as you forgot where you were, your mind going blank.

The man smiled at you, reaching out his hand to brush the hair from your face. The action made you snap out of your reverie, shaking your head to clear the fuzziness within your brain. You knew what he was, the very creature you vowed to stay away from.

“Are you ok?” The man spoke, his voice silky, smooth, and deep.

He peered down at you, holding your gaze as you tried to look anywhere but at his face. You didn’t want to engage with him and were looking for a way out. Before you could run away, the man brought his hand to your chin and had you look him in the eyes.

You tried to look away, but to no avail as he held your head steady. He looked deep into your eyes, his lips slightly parted, a grin forming on his face. You felt calm and less terrified, your body relaxing with each passing second.

“Are you ok?” The man asked again.

You shook your head as best as you could, “yes, I’m ok.”

The man smied, his dazzling teeth on display. “Good. My name is Hyunjin. What’s your name gorgeous?”

You intently listened as Hyunjin spoke to you, eager to hear more of his voice. Clearing your throat, you replied, “Y/n.”

Hyunjin hummed in acknowledgment. “Such a pretty name. Fitting for such a pretty girl.”

You leaned more into his touch, wanting to be as close as possible to this man. However, something felt off, but you couldn’t place your finger on what. With much difficulty, you searched your brain, trying to understand why the interaction felt off.

Hyunjin continued to look into your eyes, his face searching yours for any clue as to what you were thinking about. With sudden clarity, you understood why things felt off. He had you under his charm. Yes, that was it. You could vaguely sense a different scent than before, the smell of bergamot and patchouli gracing your senses.

You focused on this thought deep within, trying to break through his spell. It was difficult as he was a vampire so to say, their spells not easy to break for the average human. However, you fought hard, willing yourself to unleash yourself from his charm so you could run away.

Suddenly, you felt like yourself again and with a breath, slapped his hand away, shock gracing his beautiful features.

“Get your hands off me,” you said, your eyes laced with fear but also anger.

Hyunjin stared at you in shock and slight awe. You were actually able to break his charm. No one has ever done so, not in his hundreds of years roaming this earth. He already thought you were beautiful, your calm demeanor sparking a flame within him he hasn’t felt in centuries. But now? He was fascinated and he wasn’t going to forget you anytime soon.

He watched as you turned on your heels and quickly walked away back to your friend, your strong scent of lavender and honey lingering in your wake. He quickly said a quick spell, satisfied once he was done. Your paths would cross again, sooner rather than later if he had any say.

Adjusting the ring on his finger, he made to leave, slowly strolling out of the library into the night air.

You made it back to your table, pulling out your chair and sitting down. You tried to catch your breath as you held a hand to your chest, feeling the rapid pounding of your heart. What the hell just happened you wondered. Did you really just cross paths and actually interact with a vampire?

You were terrified. You hoped to never see him again. Surely you won’t right? You were lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Aria call your name. Snapping your head up, you looked at your friend.

“Are you alright?” She asked as she looked at you anxiously. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Close to it you thought. “I’m fine. Just…saw a rat and ran away.”

“Ewww, really?! I would have screamed.” Aria said, none the wiser to your lie.

She went back to her book, not paying you any more attention. You attempted to continue to work on your project, however, your mind was preoccupied. You couldn’t get Hyunjin out of your head.

You knew vampires were gorgeous, their beauty being one of the points that lured unsuspecting humans into their grasps, but you didn’t think they could look that beautiful. Your mind was all over the place, not able to focus on the task in front of you.

Finally givng up, you decided to pack up and go home. You explained to Aria that you were leaving. She merely waved you away.

“Text me when you get home,” she said, not looking up from her book.

Grabbing your bag, you made to leave. You cautiously walked into the night, the darkness settling in around you. You had stayed longer than you had liked. Not many people were out and about, as it was late. You listened to your surroundings, the occasional hoot from an owl reaching your ears.

The moon was bright, casting a glow to illuminate your way. You hummed a song as you continued to walk home, feeling at ease for the first time since you had that chance encounter, given the circumstances.

You were almost home when you felt odd, your senses tingling, as if someone was watching you. You looked around you, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Seeing nothing, you shrugged your shoulders and continued on your way. You did not see the figure lurking in the shadows, watching as you made your way home.

It didn’t take much longer to get home, your apartment being a short distance from the library. You walked up the steps to your door and stopped in your tracks. Lying delicately on your doormat was a kadupul flower, in full bloom.

You quickly looked around, looking to see who could have left such a flower at your door. You felt uneasy. Picking up the flower, you unlocked your door and quickly slipped inside, latching the deadbolt in place. You looked at the flower in your hand, the rich, white petals in full bloom.

You walked over to your sink, and found a vase, filling it with water and setting the flower inside. You made your way to your bathroom to shower, trying not to think about the odd events of the day. You walked through your night routine and once finished, slid into bed.

Turning off the lights, you laid underneath the covers, staring at the wall. You tried not to think of Hyunjin, as you willed sleep to come. It must have worked, because before you knew it, you dozed off, succumbing to sleep.

As you slumbered, a figure loomed over you, watching as you slept peacefully. Hyunjin was happy you accepted his flower, bidding him to come inside your house. After all, it was one of the ways vampires were granted entrance into someone’s home.

Now that he is able to come inside, he can watch over you more closely, get to know you, your routine, and if he plays his cards right, you’ll be his before the end of the fortnight. For now, however, he’ll watch over you tonight, and make sure you have sweet dreams.

The next morning, you awoke feeling oddly refreshed. The sun was shining, you could tell as the rays threatened to break through your curtains that you had closed. You stretched and got up to begin your morning routine. Your day wasn’t terribly busy, only having to go into the office briefly to meet with one of your colleagues regarding the project.

You happily sipped at your coffee as you read your book, the events of last night forgotten. Now that you think about it, you had pleasant dreams too, which was a nice change from the typical nightmares you usually get. You didn’t dwell on the thought too long however. You were just happy to finally get some sleep.

The time came when it was time for you to meet your colleague, so you fixed your hair and grabbed your bag, before making your way outdoors. The walk was pleasant, the warm sun gently warming your skin. You smiled, feeling truly happy.

Now that made you think, as you haven’t felt true happiness in a while. It was sad to even have to consider why you felt happy. Maybe you shared a funny joke with Aria or had a great conversation with your family on the phone that you can’t remember. Neither option seemed right however.

You felt confused, a frown slowly gracing your features. You felt like a part of your memory was gone and you weren’t sure why.

Hyunjin watched you from afar, the spell he placed on you yesterday at the library alerting him whenever you left the house. He followed you as you walked to your destination. You seemed happy enough. It didn’t seem like you remembered him or your encounter yesterday.

However, your demeanor changed, your stride slowing, a frown appearing on your beautiful face. You seemed lost in thought. He didn’t approve of your anxiety and confusion. He wanted you to be happy. The other spell he casted over you last night must already be wearing off sooner than usual.

Maybe he needs to back off a little, let you get back into your daily routine. Hyunjin did not want to mess this opportunity up. He’s already told the others about you. They are very eager to meet the mysterious human that has preoccupied their friend.

Yes, he will back off. He will let you go about your life and then when you least expect it, re-approach you. He is certain he will succeed at his next attempt to make you his.

Your days passed quietly, nothing out of the ordinary occurring. You filled your days by going to work and back home and occasionally going to the library to continue working on your project. You met with Aria a few more times, grabbing coffee or food depending on how much time you both had.

You had just arrived home after a long day at the office. You were more than ready to relax, ready to binge watch your favorite show while stuffing your face with pizza. Once you placed your order and changed into more comfortable clothes, you made up your home on the couch for the next few hours.

However, you happened to look over and notice the flower, still in its vase from a week ago. Who gave that to you again? You couldn’t remember. Shrugging, you decided to toss it, as the flower was shriveled up and appeared to be dead. Once you were done, you sat down and flipped the tv on, pulling up your show.

You were already an episode in when you heard a knock on the door. Thinking it was your pizza, you skipped happily to the door and swung it open, ready to greet the pizza delivery person.

Instead of pizza however, there was a dozen of the same flower that you just threw away. Startled, you looked up, looking this way and that to see if whoever left them were still around. Nightfall had fallen, quiet had descended upon your town.

A shiver went down your spine, unease settling in within you. You noticed a note on top of the flowers. Picking up the square piece of paper, you unfolded it and read what was written inside:

Time may pass but you become ever more beautiful. Await me my love for we shall be reunited soon.

Now you were scared. There was no signature indicating who left the note. It was handwritten in beautiful script, the words written carefully upon the piece of paper. You needed to get back into the comfort of your home and it needed to happen now.

Against better judgment, you picked up the flowers and brought them inside. You filled the vase with fresh water once more and set them inside. You stared at the flowers, not yet in bloom. You placed the note next to the vase.

You could feel your senses go into overdrive as your body went into fight or flight mode. You became aware of every sound around you, listening for a potential intruder after this strange event. You jumped when you heard another knock on your door, hearing the person on the other side say ‘delivery.’

Taking a few deep breaths, you made your way back to your door, unlocking it to take the pizza. You thanked the man and closed the door, once more in the safety of your home. You made sure the door was bolted before sitting down on your couch.

You weren’t really hungry anymore, too on edge after finding the bouquet of flowers. You turned to look at them, letting out a gasp as the flowers had since bloomed. They sat within the vase, an ethereal look to them as the petals lay spread out. You sat in shock, just staring at the flowers, not noticing there was another presence in the room.

Far too late, you turned your head to notice a man sitting next to you. You let out a scream, the color draining from your face. You cowered in the corner of the couch, your muscles tense and ready to run at moments notice. When did he get in here? Something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place where you had first seen him.

“Hi angel,” the man said as he looked you in the eyes.

You let out the breath you were holding, your body relaxing little by little as you stared at the man in front of you, a feeling of calm spreading throughout your body.

“Do you remember me?”

You started at the man, your mind a jumbled mess as you tried to make out the situation. A strange man somehow broke into your house and is now sitting in front of you asking if you remember him. You felt strange on top of that, oddly calm given the situation.

“I see you got my flowers. They look beautiful just like you love.”

You struggled with your conscience, trying to overcome this fog that was placed over you. You looked in horror as the man scooted closer to you and gently grabbed your face. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your vision blurring as you felt tears prickle the corners of your eyes.

You fought internally with yourself, trying to break through the fog. As you struggled, the man was leaning closer and closer to you as though he was going to kiss you. You closed your eyes at the last second, squeezing them shut. You felt his soft and pillowy lips brush yours.

You needed to wake up now, or who knows what will happen. At this, you felt the fog lift, your mind clear once more. You screamed and scrambled back as far as you could go away from the man.

He stared back at you, his hand in midair as if he was still holding your face.

“Angel, don’t be afraid.” He said.

“Who are you? How’d you get in here? I didn’t give you permission to come in!” You all but screamed.

The man in front of you sighed. “Perhaps I left you alone for too long. My name is Hyunjin. We’ve met before.”

He stared at you long and hard as his words sank in. You looked terrified, your body shaking in fear. He didn’t want you to be afraid. He wanted you to feel at ease around him, he wanted you to want him, to be his.

“You brought the flowers inside your house. They have a spell on them, one that grants me entrance to wherever the flowers reside.”

You listened to every word he said, fear still coursing through your body.

“Why? Why me?” You said, your voice shaking with each word.

You tried to take deep breaths, as you felt dizzy, feeling like you were going to pass out.

“Please, angel. Don’t be afraid. We are meant to be. Let me show you. Please.”

Hyunjin had a pleading look on his face. He made no further move to get closer to you, respecting the distance placed between you two.

“You’re a vampire. How are we meant to be? I’m a human.” You said, rolling your eyes.

Hyunjin looked sad, his eyes falling at your denial of his advances.

“If I can show you how we were meant to be, will you accept me? One night, that’s all I ask angel.”

You looked at Hyunjin, really looked at him, searching his face for any deceit. He was a vampire after all. You thought long and hard, as the shock of a strange man in your home wore off. He’s a vampire, he can’t be trusted. He just wants to use you and once he’s done, he’ll kill you.

Why trust him? Yes he was staring at you with his beautiful eyes, but you didn’t want that to distract you from the fact that he just cannot be trusted.

“Please angel,” he pleaded once more.

You considered his plea once more. You were about to make a dumb mistake, but before you could change your mind, your mouth opened forming the words ‘yes.’

Hyunjin smiled at you, his brilliant teeth glowing in the low lighting. “Excellent! I will pick you up tomorrow night.”

He quickly got up and walked over to you. You tried to scoot back but found you had nowhere to go. You froze in place as Hyunjin approached you and grabbed your face once more. He slowly leaned down before pressing his lips to yours in a brief kiss. Before letting you go, he nipped at your lip, pulling at the flesh before standing up.

“Get some rest angel, you will need it.”

With that Hyunjin was gone, disappearing in thin air. You were shocked, your eyes never leaving the place where he was standing just moments before. You reached up and touched your lips. Did that really happen? Are you really going to give a vampire a chance?

You knew your mother would be disappointed if she were she alive. Oh well however, the deeds been done. Tomorrow your fate would be sealed.

The next day, you were anxious, your hands slightly trembling, your mind unfocused. You didn’t know what to expect tonight and that was driving you insane. You paced the floors, unable to sit still for too long.

What were you expected to wear? You didn’t think to ask that last night. On top of the anxiety, you were scared. What if he killed you once he was done showing you whatever he wanted to show you? Your mind was riddled with thoughts, none of them the typical thoughts you’d have before a date.

As dusk approached, the orange and pink sky showing through your windows, you decided to get ready. Somehow you knew exactly which outfit you wanted to wear. You chose a white dress with cross ties in the front. The hem of the dress had asymmetrical ruffles. You thought it would be a perfect contrast to going out with a creature of the night.

You did your makeup and lightly curled your hair. Spritzing some of your favorite perfume, you were ready for whatever the night brings.

You heard a soft ruffle behind you and you turned around in shock. Standing before you was Hyunjin. He was dressed nicely, making him look even more handsome. He eyed your outfit, a smile slowing forming on his face.

“You look gorgeous angel,” he purred reaching a hand out towards you.

You took his hand and watched as he placed a soft kiss on your hand, his lips lingering for a few moments. You felt yourself blush, the heat rising to your face.

“Ready?” He asked as he straightened up.

You shook your head yes, ready for whatever he had in store. Hyunjin smiled at you and took your hand, his fingers gently lacing with yours. He led the way, out the door, down the steps, and onto the sidewalk. The night air felt nice on your skin, feeling warm enough to where you didn’t need a sweater.

The moon was bright and hanging perfectly in the sky, no clouds around to dampen its light. Hyunjin led you along the streets, walking in stride with you. You were lost in thought, lost in the man next to you when you felt a squeeze of your hand.

You looked at Hyunjin before looking to where he was pointing to.

“Here we are,” he said as he stopped in front of a building.

It seemed old, the style outdated. There was a soft glow from within, seeming inviting. You swallowed nervously. This is it, you thought, this is where I die. You followed Hyunjin as he led you to the door. Grasping the handle, he twisted the knob before the door swung open.

He stepped inside, pulling you along. The interior of the building was breath taking. The architecture was old but warm, definitely from another time period. The furniture reminded you of the 1800s, screaming old money.

Hyunjin could see the curiosity and awe on your face. He smiled to himself, happy that you didn’t seem taken aback. This was to be your home shortly after all.

“This was my parents house,” he said, as he guided you through the house.

You were looking this way and that, taking in the various rooms that you passed by. His parent’s house? Where were they now you wondered. You knew vampires lived for a very long time. Would you get to meet them tonight?

Sensing your unease, Hyunjin squeezed your hand as he stopped before a door. “They died long ago, murdered by humans.”

You gasped, not knowing what to say. After a while you opened your mouth to speak, “I’m sorry.”

Hyunjin merely shook his head. “It was centuries ago.”

You nodded and held your breath as he opened the door. Inside the room was a dining table, set up for two. Candles lit the room, the shadows from the flames dancing along the walls.

Hyunjin walked you to a chair and pulled it out, gesturing for you to sit. You did as you were told, tucking your dress underneath you as you sat. He effortlessly tucked your chair in before rounding the corner and sitting down next to you.

He clapped his hands and food appeared, your plate piled high with delicate foods. You were shocked, your mouth hanging open. You looked up as you heard Hyunjin chuckle.

“Easy to do angel, with a spell.”

You simply nodded your head. Of course, he could do anything.

“Dig in angel. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Hyunjin watched you as you cautiously took your fork and grabbed a piece of food. He watched as you brought the food to your succulent lips, the flesh wrapping around the utensil.

He smiled as you groaned, savoring the food on your tongue. You ate in fervor, not realizing how hungry you were. You looked up at Hyunjin and noticed he wasn’t eating.

“Are you not eating?” You asked, setting down your fork in embarrassment.

Hyunjin waved your concern away. “I cannot eat human food.”

As he said this, he looked at you, a smirk forming on his face.

You gulped. Of course vampires couldn’t eat human food. You didn’t want to think what this meant for you.

“Eat, it’s ok you eat,” Hyunjin said with a smile.

You nodded your head and picked up your fork once more. You finished off the rest of the food, your belly full and happy. Hyunjin nodded in satisfaction once you finished, snapping his fingers, the dishes clearing away immediately.

He got up and reached out to you, grasping your hand in his. You followed him as he led you out of the dining room and up the stairs. You held your breath as you ascended the beautiful staircase, unsure of what was to come. Where was Hyunjin leading you now?

“Here we are,” Hyunjin said as he led you to a room just off the stairs. He opened the door and allowed you to walk in first.

The room was beautiful, filled with ornate furniture. There was a little sitting area near the window, the night air filtering through the open window. In the center of the room there was a canopy bed that looked warm and inviting. You turned to Hyunjin, a questioning look in your eye.

He grinned and took your hand once more, guiding you to the sitting area. You sat on the couch, unsure of where to look, what to say. Hyunjin sat next to you and brushed the back of his hand across your cheek.

You blushed and shivered at his touch. You felt something stir within you. Yes, you knew Hyunjin was no good for you, a vampire, a creature you cannot trust, but your mind and body had other plans.

You looked into Hyunjin’s eyes, your heart rapidly beating within your chest. Hyunjin smiled at you before leaning forward, causing you to lay back on the couch. He brushed your hair to the side before placing his lips on yours.

You couldn’t help but sigh at the kiss, your hands reaching up hesitantly to wrap around his neck. Hyunjin continued to gently kiss you, his lips molding with yours with ease. His lips felt like heaven, nice and soft against yours.

You felt Hyunjin’s lips tip up in a smile. “Finally, you are mine angel,” he purred before kissing your jaw, the underside of your neck before he latched onto your sweet spot below your ear.

You let out a low moan as he nipped and sucked the area, his tongue lashing out to soothe the skin every now and then. You felt like you were floating, becoming lost in Hyunjin’s kisses. You closed your eyes and relaxed further into the couch, your fingers playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

Without warning, you felt a sharp prick, a yelp leaving your mouth as your eyes flew open. Hyunjin bit you, his teeth still lodged within your neck. He was going to feed from you, the shock from the realization causing your to panic. You tried to move away, but found you could not, your body paralyzed beneath the man above you.

However, before you could further protest, you felt a warm sensation travel throughout your body, down your arms, settling in your fingertips, down your legs settling in your toes, down your belly before settling in your core, arousal flooding your panties and soaking the material through.

You arched into Hyunjin, clinging onto him even tighter as he fed from you, the feeling of ecstasy becoming stronger with each passing moment. Hyunjin let out a growl before sitting up, blood smeared over his lips, his fangs still bared and bloody.

“You taste amazing angel, just like I thought. You felt good too? I know you did.” He cooed.

You did feel good, the feeling still lingering even after he detached himself from you. Your body felt like it was on autopilot, needing more from Hyunjin. You opened your legs more, allowing Hyunjin to slot himself more comfortably between your legs.

He grinned at your eagerness before he slid the straps of your dress down, your breasts on display. His fingers brushed lightly over your nipples, the buds instantly peaking between the cold air coming through the window and his touch. You mewled out as he leaned down to suckle your nipple, his tongue flicking against the nub.

Hyunjin loved your body, your beautiful breasts fitting perfectly in his mouth. He suckled your nipple, his hand massaging your other breast. He let out a groan at the sound of your voice, whimpering his name, telling him not to stop. He was ready to make you his.

With a pop, he let go of your nipple and sat up. With a snap of his fingers, his clothes disappeared, a chuckle leaving his lips at your shock.

Hyunjin’s body was beautiful. He was toned, his muscles flexing with every movement he made. Your eyes traveled down, down until they landed on the hard appendage between his thighs. His cock was pretty, the prettiest you’ve ever seen, the perfect length and girth, his tip leaking with precum.

You watched as he pushed up your dress, bunching the material at your waist, his eyes snapping to your dripping core. You heard him mutter something under his breath in a language you didn’t know, watching as he slid his finger between your folds. You moaned as he circled your clit, applying pressure to the bud occasionally.

“You’re soaking angel. All for me hmm? You’re mine right?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes searching yours for the answer.

“I’m yours Hyunjin,” you whimpered, finally succumbing to the man.

Hyunjin smiled, letting out a breath at the words he’s been waiting to hear since he met you. Grabbing his cock, he brought it to your folds, pressing the tip within your tiny hole. He watched your face, pleasure taking over as he pushed inch by inch in.

With one final push, he bottomed out, the stretch causing you to yelp from the pain. You reached out to push against him, silently begging him to stop. Hyunjin just grinned and took your hands in his, bringing them up and above your head. With a chaste kiss to your lips he thrusted his hips against yours, dragging his cock through your warm walls.

The pleasure was overwhelming, his cock hitting your spot just right. You loved his weight on top of you, cradling you beneath him as he rhythmically slid his cock in and out, in and out. You felt Hyunjin drop his head into the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin as he breathed.

You squeezed his hands and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him ever closer to you. The new position allowed his cock to reach deeper within your walls, his tip kissing your cervix. You mewled out as you felt your high approaching.

Hyunjin groaned as he felt your pussy clench around him, keeping him within your walls. He fit perfectly within you, just as he thought. You were made for him. He felt the sweat off his forehead and land on you, his pleasure building with each stroke.

He needed you to cum with him, like he needed air to breathe. As he continued to thrust into you, he bared his fangs once more before sinking his teeth once more within your neck. You howled at the pain before succumbing to the pleasure as he fed from you.

He couldn’t get enough of you, as you were perfect. He felt you stiffen beneath him and with a cry, you squirted around his cock, your arousal coating his pelvis and dripping onto the couch below. The feeling of your pussy fluttering around him caused tip over the edge, spurt after spurt of his warm cum filling up walls.

You felt full and satisfied, as you came down from your high. You winced as you felt Hyunjin withdraw his teeth, before he pressed his lips against yours. You could taste the metallic taste of your blood, causing you to groan as you tightened your hold around him.

You felt like you could lay here and kiss him forever, your worries forgotten, the world forgotten as you laid in the little cocoon that was Hyunjin. Hyunjin gave you one more kiss before sitting up and slowly withdrawing his softening cock. He couldn’t help but watch his cum spill from your pussy, the sight beautiful to his eyes. It meant that you were his, finally his.

“Let me run a bath,” Hyunjin said, getting up from the couch.

You laid there beneath the windows, the moonlight shining through, awaiting Hyunjin to come back for you. It didn’t take him long as he was back within a few minutes. He carefully picked you up and carried you to the large in suite bathroom.

You felt sleepy as Hyunjin carefully washed your body, the scent of cherry blossoms filing in the air. You could hear him hum a song, the melody soft and sweet, almost like a lullaby. Once he was done washing you, he carefully brought you back to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. He quickly dried you off and slipped a shirt over your head before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You grinned at the small sign of affection, reaching out to him with your arms, wanting to feel close. Hyunjin chuckled before picking you up once more. He placed you beneath the warm covers before sliding in next to you.

You snuggled up next to him, resting your head on his chest. There was no heartbeat, nothing present to let you know he was a human. You couldn’t help but feel attached, needing to be close to Hyunjin at all times. If this is what it felt like being with a vampire, then you didn’t mind, you actually wanted it, craved it.

He was yours, just as you were his. You snuggled closer as he whispered sweet nothings, his hands smoothing down your hair, his fingertips lightly brushing against your back.

“I love you angel.” Hyunjin whispered, kissing your hair as you drifted off to sleep.

You mumbled incoherent words, hoping the three little words were audible to Hyunjin.

You never were afraid of the dark, never fearing the darkness that covered the land each day. Maybe what lurked in the dark wasn’t so bad either. Maybe what lurked in the dark was what you were looking for all along.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer

[vampiresbloodx]

Arcane Imagine;

pairings; Vi/reader

Imagine you and Vi moving in together for the first time.

warnings; fluff, established relationship, love sick!vi, more fluff & comfort, arcane au, implied smut reference, teasing, s*xual jokes

a/n; I recently moved <33 so I wanted to write a lil something for vi I can now get back to writing and making silly lil posts because moving is exhausting as fuck lmao

You and Vi have been thinking about moving in together for the longest time, Vi first thought about it when she laid eyes on you when she saw you at the bar

You were with your friends, hanging out, drinks in hand, laughing along with them, she couldn't stop staring at you, how gorgeous you looked that night, how effortlessly beautiful you are to her

She really was a moth that was drawn to the flame

Because randomly, after meeting you, talking to you for a few hours in some bathroom, she was already attached to you, she didn't say it out loud then, it took her ages to actually tell you she has feelings for you

When she did though, it was the best decision she's made, and the one that didn't go to shit

Vi is always by your side, clinging to you, like a lost puppy, it's adorable, you think, as you do the same to her

But when it's just you two, she really let's down her walls and is just completely herself

When there's others around, she puts on that tough act, your very own scary dog privilege

No one can touch you or talk to you in a wrong way, and if someone upsets you, makes you uncomfortable, well they're in for a beating

Vi does not mind getting her knuckles bloody for you

When you brought up the idea of living together in an apartment, even if it wasn't that big and the rent was high, Vi immediately jumped on board

You found it really fucking cute, watching her ramble excitedly about how you two should decorate your room, apartment, she says how you can have your plants in different places, a nice coffee table, a tv, games, you just really liked listening to her talk

Now when you two did the apartment hunting, that was long and slightly boring, having to meet up with strangers to potentially set a deal on your new home, yes, you were both still very excited, and finally, after trying to find the right one, you both found your home

You got what you could afford, and after signing the lease and getting the keys, you were able to officially move in

The moving was stressful, getting everything together, making sure nothing was lost or broken, Vi kept on worrying about her CDs and DVD collection, same with her other collections she has that she didn't want to lose, stuff that she's kept from her childhood, rare items she's found that people have thrown away for some reason and it's actually worth a lot, Vi likes those stuff, she likes finding good things

You like to add to the collections to, when you find things that remind you of Vi

Vi wouldn't show much of her "nerdy" side to anyone else but you had that special spot

There definitely would be Vi making sex jokes, how the new couch would be perfect to try new positions on, or how the bed might not last that long, for that you slapped her playfully on the shoulder, and she laughed hard

She loved teasing you

And will not stop

Vi never really knew she was ever gonna experience this, just that domestic life filled with good moments that will play a huge part in your life for years, and here she was with you, she did not want to let go

Vi was excited about turning this place into a home that shows the both of you, so when they invited people over they would know immediately

She was crazy for you, in the best way possible and you wouldn't have it anyway else

[backtothefanfiction]

Insecure | Joel Miller Imagine

Prompt: “YOU MAKE ME FEEL SO INSECURE!”

Summary: Being Joel’s- well- whatever you are, isn’t easy.

Warnings: ANGST!!!

A/N- just a quick one before bed to keep me in the habit… and I just needed to write something angsty. A bit open ended, but yeah, hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to give feedback and reblog if you like!

Joel was handsome- you knew that. Had always known that. Heck you had wanted to jump his bones the very first time you saw him. So you understood when women, girls and sometimes even other guys did a double take or just stared at him. But it was like he was oblivious to it.

You had been travelling and working with him for 7 months now and no matter what town, city or QZ you dropped into, it was the same fucking story. He’d walk in all swagger, some dickhead would feel threatened because Joel turned his girl’s eye. They’d end up in a fight and he’d get you both kicked out because he was both too ignorant or stubborn to just concede. He’d then get frustrated and go take it out on something- hunting game or punching things or if that still didn’t work jacking off in the middle of the night when he thought you were asleep.

2 months into it you had gotten drunk with him in some cabin in the middle of nowhere that thankfully still had a stash of liquor hiding under the kitchen sink. With a little liquid courage you had drunkenly admitted you’d heard him on those nights. You had teased him and offered to help if he wanted it. You should have just kept your mouth shut, shouldn’t have offered anything because Joel really was oblivious. He thought it was just sex. A way for you to both blow off some steam at the end of the fucking world. But for you… well… it was everything.

Even when you got back home, on those particularly tough days, he sought you out. You would fuck and talk until you both fell asleep. He seemed to smile more around you. Open up to you about the past. But where you thought you had a growing relationship, he just thought you were a good friend. Because at the end of the day, if it’s not clearly spelt out for him, Joel won’t see it… Or maybe he does, he just refuses to acknowledge it- and that just makes it worse. Especially when he starts coming to you for other stuff.

He would come to you for dinner. And you would play the happy little housewife role too; laying the table, learning his favourites so you could cook them for him. If he got hurt for any reason, it was you and your first aid kit he would come to, to patch him up.

He would invite you to other peoples gatherings as his plus one. He moved some of his stuff into one of the drawers in your dresser. For all intents and purposes you were a couple… but you weren’t- and he always made that abundantly clear when others asked.

“So how long have you two been together now?” Tess had asked over dinner.

“Oh we’re not together.” He had hastily said before shoving another forkful of food quickly into his mouth, not even sparing you a second glance.

But Tess saw it. She saw the way the light dimmed in your eyes when he said it. Saw how distant you became. After all this time, he still wouldn’t call it what it was.

The three of you ate in uncomfortable silence after that, but he seemed none the wiser. He didn’t see the looks of pity Tess shot your way. Didn’t see the apology in her eyes as she left.

“Did I do something wrong?” He finally asked, breaking the silence as you began clearing plates off the table, scraping the scraps into the bin, before placing them into the sink.

At his words, you wished you had the luxury of being dramatic, throwing down the plates and smashing them, but resources were scarce enough as it was. Not to mention you’d just have to clean up all the pieces when he inevitably left to avoid this conversation. But all your anger and frustration was still there, bubbling up under the surface like a pot of boiling water, just waiting to simmer over. “No, Joel.” You seethed under your breath, trying to keep a lid on it, but you had sat too long in the silence just thinking about it all- realising how silly you had been to even think someone like him would actually want to be with you.

“Really, Darlin’, because it feels like-“

“JUST STOP!” You said, dropping the glasses into the sink on top of the plates with a clatter, your hands flying into the air searching for some sort of mercy. “Please stop!” You said again, forcing yourself to breath and take a moment and try as much as you could to keep your cool, because you knew him. You knew the moment he heard you raise your voice or get stressed with him, he’d just shut down and check out.

“Stop what?” He tried to say confused, which only made your blood simmer more.

You took in a deep breath and counted to five inside your head before you spoke. “Why did you have to say that?”

“Say what? Darlin’ I’m so fucking confused right-“

“No.” You said, shutting him down, willing him to think, to listen, to see- for once in his life. “Why did you say that in front of Tess.”

“Say what?” He asked again confused. His foot began to tap on the floorboards as he began to feed off your energy, himself growing equally as irritated as you.

“That we weren’t together.”

“Because we’re not.” He said bluntly.

“Really?!” You asked exasperatedly.

“Yes, really!”

“Joel, you practically live here. We do everything together. I cook you dinner. I do your laundry. WE SLEEP TOGETHER!”

“You offered all those things!” He stressed.

“Oh my god! How do you not see it?!”

“See what?!” He retorted.

“You invite me to places as your plus one.”

“Yeah, because we’re friends.”

“Oh my GOD!” You sighed, your hand running through your hair as you turned away from him, unable to look at his face. “YOU KNOW, YOU MAKE ME SO INSECURE!” You shouted at him as you sharply turned back to face him. “I literally put myself out there for you, every- single- day- and it’s still never enough. What is it Joel? Am I just not good enough for that?”

“We’re just us, why do you want to put a label on that?”

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” You screamed at him.

It was like detonating a bomb. His face was a picture. He really hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t wanted to see it.

“You think I did all this for you, just because we were friends?” You asked him, when the silence between you grew too much.

When he remained silent, you sighed in defeat and turned back to the sink. You rested your hands against the cold porcelain, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. This was it. You’d lost him, you were sure of it. Any second now he’d say he was gonna grab his things and go and that would be it. Unwilling to face a goodbye, you reached for the tap and turned it on.

You didn’t hear his footsteps move closer to you over the sound of the running water. When his hand reached past you to turn off the tap, it made your blood run cold.

“No.” He finally said into the silence. “No, I didn’t think you did all those things just because we were friends.” He sighed. “I just… after Sarah’s mom- and then everything that happened to Sarah- I just…” His voice kept trailing off, unable to find his words. His hand reached to rest over yours on the edge of the sink, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. “I was just so scared about getting attached. If I put a label to my own feelings, it’d just feel worse when it’s inevitably snatched away from me again.”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to work out what he was saying. He sighed as he hung his head, unable to meet your eyes, his own guilt and shame weighing heavy on his shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He eventually said. “I’m sorry that I made you feel insecure, or like I don’t appreciate everything that you do.” He said, his eyes slowly lifting to find yours again. “I never meant to make you feel like that. You are enough- more- than enough, I’d be nothing without you.” He quietly confessed. “I’d still be picking fights and killing guys and beating one out in frustration most nights. Barely eating. Wearing the same flannel and pair of jeans for he fifth day in a row… I’m sorry- okay… I’m sorry.” He said and his words began to make you soften, your body leaning further into him. “But I still can’t put a label on this.” He said; and your face fell.

You took a moment- you breathed deeply. One, two, three.

“Okay.” You conceded.

“Okay?” He questioned.

It wasn’t the answer you were looking for- the outcome you had been hoping for- but for him… it was close enough. “Okay.” You confirmed,

“Okay.” He slowly nodded and agreed. “I’ll do these.” He offered, nudging you out of the way of the sink.

“Okay.” You quietly agreed again…. But only time would tell if it was really okay… or if this fight was just on hold for another day.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 7 - Something I Can See

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Big chapter for fans of yapping and Dean overthinking things.

Chapter title from Something to Believe by Weyes Blood

Word Count: 16.8k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Sam and Dean drive you home. Usual warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, big angst, fluff, monster of the week.

Chapter 6 - Chapter 8

Read on A03!

She was going to be okay. They’d managed to get the knife out of her gut, and Sammy had stitched Her up, so She’d be fine. 

She was still knocked out, but Her breathing was even. The blade had been so hot Dean had needed to use a towel to hold it, but it was out of Her body. Her wound kept bubbling and blistering, but it wasn’t an infection. 

She’d be fine. Dean was going to kill Her, but she’d be fine.

He looked down at Her, spread out across Baby’s backseat and curled into her body. She’d barely made a sound since She’d passed out. Only soft moans and whimpers as they worked on the injury, and a few grunts as they’d moved Her into the car, adjusted Her body in the seat, and set off on the road. 

They’d done everything. All Her shit was in the trunk, Sam was sitting with her to make sure she didn’t fall over or get worse, and Dean was breaking every traffic law he could think of to get there faster. 

To South Dakota.

To Bobby’s.

It had taken Dean too long, in the parking lot, to actually call Bobby. He’d waited until She was settled, until they’d loaded almost everything into the car, and until Sammy was dealing with the front desk so Dean was alone.

He hadn’t been alone. He’d been sitting in the back of the Impala, Her head on his knee and his hand unable to stop tracing over her face.

It was wrong. Looking at Her like this. Features sunken and hollow, lips drained of blood, breathing shallow in a way Dean could feel. It made his own breath labored, his whole body tensed as She relaxed against him, and he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve the trust of Her vulnerability, the way Her beautiful face was half buried in his thigh, the way She’d let out a weak, sad sound whenever he tried to pull away.

He’d hurt Her. He’d spent the entire night after their fight ripping apart the club grounds and roaring Her name, giving Sam daring looks to say a single thing. He’d beaten himself into the mud in fear that he’d lose Her twice. Once with spat words and a cold look of hatred, then again with a shredded body and dulled eyes. 

He’d wanted to strangle Her. He’d wanted to apologize, and shout that he had nothing to apologize for. She’d lied. 

Not about what Dean thought She’d been lying about, but She’d still lied.

Although, admittedly, the truth was far more confusing. 

Because Dean had stared at the small, robot-print letters on Her phone screen—pixilated and fuzzy and flipping his world upside—and not known how to process them.

Bobby Singer.

There could be other Bobby Singers that weren’t Dean’s Bobby Singer. That weren’t the guy who was practically his uncle, who he’d played catch with, who’d made him food and given Sammy run-down toys to play with.

It didn’t make sense for this to be Dean’s Bobby. Dean had half grown up in that house. He’d stayed there for weeks on end when Dad had been on a really bad hunt—hunts where he’d come back with hooded eyes and fisted hands, snapping short orders because they didn’t have time to waste on sentimentality—and Bobby had never once had a daughter. Especially not a hot, annoying, impossible one. 

Dean would’ve remembered meeting Her before. There’s no shot he would’ve ever forgotten Her. He couldn’t. He’d tried. Dean was pretty sure that, even if he’d only laid eyes on Her once in passing, he would’ve been drawn down into Her and never climbed back out.

That was simply what She did. Who She was. A walking, breathing song that Dean couldn’t figure out how to touch but still wanted to try to learn. She got stuck in his head and played there on loop, and if he’d ever seen Her before that moroi hunt, he was damn sure he would’ve remembered.

And Bobby would’ve told him. If Bobby had a kid that was around Sam and Dean’s age, they would’ve known. Dad would’ve known.

Dad should’ve known. And he obviously hadn’t. Whenever Dean had brought Her up, Dad had called Her that little girl.

Hell, Dad had told Bobby about Her. Dad had said Her name and Bobby hadn’t gone Fuckin’ Jesus, John, that’s my daughter. The hell is She doin’ huntin’ a poltergeist.

Bobby had reacted strangely, though. Dean remember him hanging up right after Dad mentioned Her.

And She had mentioned her dad was a gruff, smart hunter. Which described Bobby, and explained why She knew so much random shit about hunting, and that was Bobby’s number in Her phone, and-

She’d lied. She’d said She didn’t know a Bobby. She’d asked Dean what he thought of Bobby.

Like She was curious what he’d think.

Son of a bitch.

Because when Dean squinted, he could see Bobby on Her face. Not physically, but in small divets and shadows on Her face and body and voice.

They rolled their eyes the same way. Like they were done with everyone’s shit, and knew that they were the most competent and reliable person in the room. 

She had the same laugh Bobby had. Dean had only heard Bobby laugh—really, fully laugh with his whole chest—three or four times, but it was the exact same laugh. Loud and powerful and almost cartoonish.

They didn’t walk the same way, but they fought in similar movements. Brutal and effective, with no more or less than necessary. 

And if Dean really thought about it, there were smaller things he could draw together. How She turned a page, how She held a pencil, how She drank her coffee.

Small mannerisms She would’ve picked up from being raised by someone, the same way Dean would spin his keys and Sammy always flipped his wallet in his hands before opening it. 

Like Dad did.

Part of Dean hadn’t wanted to call the number. His thumb hovered far too long as he’d debated if he even wanted to know. If this was really what it seemed to be, and he’d have to piece together a puzzle he hadn’t known existed a fucking hour ago.

She could never know that he’d looked down at Her, and that had been what finally got him. That Her scrunched face had made his heart feel like it was being wrenched and pounded, that he’d run his thumb over Her nose, she’d relaxed, and let out a song-like sigh that had been it.

He’d pressed call, held the phone to his ear, and still not fully believed it until the line picked up after two rings.

“Hey, kiddo, I wasn’t expectin’ you to call until you had that Kelpie down. You alright?”

Dean had frozen, his voice caught in his throat, staring at Her face as static sounded in his ear. 

That was Bobby. Bobby clearing his throat, Bobby grunting Her name-

“Is everythin’-“

“Bobby?” Dean’s voice had been hushed, and he’d watched Her carefully to make sure she wasn’t disturbed. 

There had been a long moment of silence, this time from Bobby’s end, and then-

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s-“

“Where the hell did you find this phone, boy?”

Dean had said Her name, his hand tracing over Her brow, still checking she was real. “She gave it to me.”

“She fuckin’- where is she?”

“She’s right here-“

“Put her on, I need to talk to her.”

“Yeah, uh,” Dean had swallowed, and She’d shifted slightly, pressing further into his lap. “I can’t.”

“Dean Winchester, I ain’t lookin’ to kill you, but if you don’t-“

“No, I- I literally fucking can’t, Bobby.”

“Why in hells balls can’t ya’ pass a phone-“

Dean said Her name again, something like lead coating his throat. “Uh, she’s- She’s knocked out.”

There was a brief second of silence, and Dean had winced when Bobby spoke again. 

“What the hell typa’ shit have you two gotten into that she’s knocked out?!”

“A demon attacked her, and we- Bobby, we tried to fight it off but it got a knife into her gut, and Sammy patched her up but-“

“Sam’s there?”

Dean had frowned. “Yeah, uh, who else-“

“Never mind, I thought-“ Bobby had sighed through the phone, something tense growing in his voice. “She stable?”

“Yeah, but she told us to call you.”

“Alright, bring her up here and I’ll be ready. And Dean?”

Dean had nodded, staring at Her gorgeous, almost peaceful face, and there had been a long stretch of silence before he remembered Bobby couldn’t see him.

“Dean-“

“Shit, sorry, what’s-“

“I don’t want you lettin’ a single fuckin’ thing near her but you and Sam, got it?”

“Yes, sir-“

“Don’t yes, sir me, boy. Promise me you’ll keep her in your sight.”

“I will. Promise.”

It had been an easy thing to say. The thought of leaving Her alone had—even as his head spun, and his chest started to mold with the question of why the hell she’d lied—made Dean feel taut and sick.

And Bobby had hung up the phone, and Dean had kept his promise. He’d never left Her alone, not for a second. Sam had sat with Her because Dean didn’t trust himself to care for her properly—didn’t deserve to have Her half slump over his body and sigh against his skin—and Dean’d had to force his eyes to stay on the road, and not drift to check on Her

It was bad enough that his mind had been wandering. Coming up with more and more reasons this didn’t make any fucking sense, and far too many reasons why it did. 

She’d called going to Bobby’s home, and Dean felt something like bile in his throat at the thought that whenever She’d said home before, she’d been talking about Bobby. And lying. And letting Dean think She was living in a fancy gated palace, when she’d just been at Bobby’s. But now, when Dean pictured Bobby’s table, he could see Her at it. She slotted into the scene perfectly, just as She fit so well in every other part of Dean’s life.

And he still couldn’t hate Her. He had far too many questions—where the hell She’d been whenever they’d stayed with Bobby, why had She never corrected Dean, why had Bobby lied about knowing Her—and he didn’t know what the hell was happening, but he just couldn’t fucking hate Her.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam had asked a few hours ago, watching Dean carefully from the backseat. “What happened, last night? You just, you called me and said she’d stormed off, but-“

“Don’t.” Dean had muttered, his grip tightening on the wheel, and Sam had sighed.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me everything, I just want to know why she’d just fucked off, it doesn’t seem like her-“

“You don’t know her, Sam-“

“But you do-“

“Do I?” Dean had snapped, his eyes flicking back to Her in the rearview mirrors. Always close, and untouchable, and a mystery Dean could never seem to get close to solving. “I’m not sure anyone knows her, and I certainly fucking don’t.”

“Yeah, you do, Dean.” Sam had leaned forward, his tone far too careful and gentle. “Whatever fight you guys had, however pissed she got, I can’t be that bad-“

“Yeah, it can be.” Dean had scowled at the road, his voice lowering to a grunt. “Drop it, Sam. I fucking serious.”

Sam had sighed, and nodded. “Alright, what about the demon? Do you think we need to be keeping an eye out?”

“Eye out-“

“For another one.” Sam had glanced down to Her, she’d made a small noise of distress, and the sound had ached in Dean’s chest. “Dude, it- It knew who you were. And it seemed to know her-“

“There’s- How the hell would a demon know her-“

“I don’t know, that’s what I’m asking.” Sam had swallowed, and Dean could see the nerves written over his face in the mirror. “You think Bobby will have an idea?”

Dean didn’t know. He’d snapped at Sam that when they got to Bobby’s they’d have plenty of time to figure out what the fuck was happening, but the question was still echoing around his head.

Why would a demon have gone after Her. She was just a year older than Sammy, so she couldn’t have made that many enemies. She wasn’t some kind of target. There was nothing about her that could-

There was everything about Her. If Dean thought about it for too long—which is all he had time to do—She wasn’t just an enigma to Dean. Her family was still her family, no matter how she knew Bobby. Dad had said She’d stolen something, all those years ago. Maybe the demons would want it.

Maybe others felt that pull. Maybe there was something deeper Dean didn’t know how to see. 

Maybe there was nothing at all, and the demon had been hunting Her because of her proximity to Dean.

That thought made him feel sore and ill. Dad said that it was a demon who had gotten Mom. A demon who had gotten Jess. 

And She wasn’t Dean’s. She’d made that perfectly fucking clear.

But he couldn’t stop looking at Her. Couldn’t stop how the air didn’t feel clean in his lungs because Her breathing was shallow, how his hands kept itching on the wheel to brush over Her cheek and soothe the small wrinkle in Her brow. He could tell himself he just wanted to check for a fever, but he also wanted to move the hair from Her face. Sam was just letting is lie there, and Dean knew she hated people touching it, but she always let Dean touch her. She never slapped his hand away when he touched Her. She leaned into him, and sometimes She smile, and sometimes Dean could pretend she was his-

She wasn’t. She wouldn’t be. Dad had known Mom. Sam had known Jess.

Dean didn’t know anything. He didn’t know why the demon had been after Her, or what She been thinking just stomping off, or why Bobby was her home. 

All he really knew was that this still looked wrong. That the sight of Her in pain was making his heart shred itself in his chest, and that he wanted to reach around the seats and touch Her. Pull Her into him until nothing else could hurt Her, until he could get her somewhere safer than him.

She’d be safer anywhere but with Dean. Bobby had said to keep an eye on Her, but Dean didn’t trust his eyes. All week they’d kept seeing things that didn’t really make sense. Every moment they just made Her more beautiful, even as Dean silently cursed himself for still looking. 

He couldn’t stop looking. He fucking hated Her for lying, but every single sharp and blunted piece of wrath in Dean’s chest felt more searing when it carved on his own ribs. She was a liar, but Dean was a piece of shit. He’d bitten Her too hard. He didn’t have a damn clue about Her life, but he’d still aimed to kill and then been a whiny son of a bitch when his shot had landed.

She may bring out the most of him, but it was still Dean who was made of all those foul, uncontrolled pieces. 

Dad knew how to control himself. Dad wasn’t perfect, but at least he kept himself in line, and he’d tried to teach Dean how to do the same but Dean was just weaker. Pathetic and useless. 

He didn’t deserve to be around Her. No matter how much it pissed Dean off that She was better than he was, it didn’t change the fact. Dean wasn’t worthy of being around Her. 

And he still couldn’t stop looking. She was dangerous, and awesome, and looked so perfect in Dean’s car—fit so well with everything that was Dean, everything that belonged to him—but she also was impossible. And insufferable. And seemed to be trying to break Dean into pieces, because Her eyes fluttered, her breath hitched, and She arched her back.

All while mumbling Dean. 

Her eyes drifted open, a small frown on Her face, and the first thing she said was Dean.

She was trying to kill him.

“Dean.“ Her voice was soft, and weak, and rooted right into the cavity of Dean’s chest. Washing it in silver light with only Her voice, saying his name as Her fingers flexed and she reached mindlessly out into the air.

There’s a brief second where Dean wondered if She was looking for him. Reaching out to see if he’d take Her hand, if he’d reassure her with just his touch.

He needed to get it together.

He didn’t know how.

“I- Dean, what’s- I don’t-“ Her voice was growing distressed, Her slightly gazed as they dragged open. Her fingers seemed to be digging into Her skin as she shrank into the bench, Her breathing speeding up and becoming short and shit- 

It looked wrong. It felt wrong. Dean had no right to touch Her, no reason to tense and balk at the sight of Her in pain—small and panicked and almost feral in his backseat, ducking Her head and hugging her body as if she could shield herself—but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting hold Her until she was calm, to wrap himself around her like a barrier from everything else that could hurt Her in the world.

It was selfish as hell. Dean could hurt Her. Dean had hurt Her. He was the asshole who got them here in the first place, all by not knowing how to just control himself.

He didn’t want to control himself right now. Not as Her face twisted in pain. 

Not as She kept saying his name.

“Where are we- I- Dean-“

“I’m here,” He muttered Her name, gripping the back of his seat to stop himself from reaching for her. “We’re in the car.”

She went silent, Her body stilling completely, and cold seized over Dean’s body. Why was She just lying there. Why wasn’t She speaking, or shouting, or sneering. Asking questions or spitting venom about their fight, trying to get up or curl further into Herself, why was she so fucking still-

Dean was about to damn it, reach further back, and touch Her—just to feel the warmth of Her body, just to get something of a reaction—when She finally spoke.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, and Dean would’ve never bet on that being what She’d say. On Her seeming to mean it, her face twisted slightly, Her head bowed, and her voice soft. “I- I didn’t mean to.”

He frowned. “Mean to what.”

“Anything.” 

Her eyes drifted open. Bright and seeming to glow on Dean’s, looking at him like She always had. If Dean didn’t know better, he would’ve thought their fight had never happened. There was no possible way it could’ve when She was still looking at him. Right into him, into the deep pit in his body that felt smaller under Her attention. Felt lined or coated in warmth and light, because that was what She did to him. 

And She still looked vulnerable. Just watching him, something more nervous on her face than Dean usually saw, something almost afraid. 

He hated it. She shouldn’t fear Dean, She should trust him. She didn’t, but he needed Her to. At least enough to know that, even if Dean—for some sick, fucked reason—tried to, he couldn’t lay a hand on Her. He could hiss and mock and poison Her with his mouth or presence, but he was pretty damn certain that his body would turn itself to ash before it hurt Her.

Which didn’t make sense. It wasn’t rational, or reasonable, or understandable. But Dean’s hand flexed on the seat, and She practically fucking flinched, and Dean had never felt lower in his life. Any ideas he’d been holding about demanding answers and shouting about everything—their fight, Her lies, his brimming and spilling desire and how She needed to stop doing this to him so he could control himself—began to vanish into thin air. It was impossible to be really, truly angry at Her when she looked like that. Beautiful and fragile and critical to the blood in Dean’s body. 

He’d find that anger later, and they’d fight later. For now he just let out a long breath, and shrugged. 

“’S fine.” It wasn’t. But it was the only good thing to say here, because Dean might rather stab himself than tell Her about how fucking furious he was, and make Her fold further down. He’d wounded Her enough for a while. “You feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m-“ She paused, hands padding over Her stomach. “Did you-“

“Sammy gave you some stitches.” Dean said, watching her carefully. “He’s not great that them, though, so don’t move.”

Her mouth twitched slightly. Dean wished he could touch it. “Where is Sam?”

“Getting gas. We got a few hours left until we hit Sioux Falls.”

“Oh.”

Dean didn’t miss the flash of something over Her face. He didn’t know what. He just knew it was wired, and taut, and brittle. That he wanted to ease it, but didn’t know how. Wasn’t really worthy of trying to learn.

But Sam was taking a while. 

And Dean couldn’t fucking stand how fearful She looked.

“If you press on the stitches, does it hurt?”

She raised her brows. “I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to press on them, Winchester.”

“Nah, I know, I’m just trying to figure out how shit a job Sammy did.”

She didn’t look like She believed him, and Dean really wished he’d come up with a better excuse to talk to Her, because now she was lifting up her shirt. 

Her skin looked a little raw and torn around the wound, but everywhere else was soft. Smooth. He’d noticed it while patching Her up, that she barely had any pale, raised patches of skin where other hunters did.

No scars was so fucking rare. 

But so was She.

And Dean needed to pull it together.

“It’ll hold,” She looked back to Dean, and he had to blink at her. Pretend he hadn’t just been gaping at Her bare skin. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He muttered, scanning over Her features. She was awake, but there still wasn’t enough color in Her face. Too little fury behind Her eyes, nothing dancing and shining like it usually did. She looked exhausted. Weakened. The little furrow of Her brow tighter than usual. 

They had hours to go, and Dean knew how to fix that. He knew how to poke at Her until she snapped and everything bent with Her—all Her force making the world clearer, Dean’s body stronger—and how to walk right up to the invisible line, touch Her just as much as he was allowed, and make Her relax. Sam didn’t. But Dean did. 

“I’m coming back there.” He grunted, starting to shift in his seat, and She frowned.

“What?”

“Sammy’s gonna drive the rest of the way, I’ll sit with you-“

“No, you don’t-“

He shook his head. He didn’t want to hear Her say he didn’t have to, because it just reminded him that she didn’t feel this. That there was nothing that called Her to Dean’s side, because if there was she’d be fucking begging him to sit with Her. 

He knew that, because he was seconds away from dropping to a new low and begging Her. 

“We had Sammy back there all day,” he held Her gaze, trying to make his voice stern. “Only fair you get saddled with me too.”

“I’m not-“ She cut herself off with a shake of Her head. “I don’t need Sam to sit with me either, De. I’m fine.”

De. She said De, and it was maybe the only thing more powerful than Her calling him Dean. Even if She didn’t mean it, the word felt like a command over his body, and that was only another thing Dean didn’t understand. 

“You’re- you look like shit, Princess.“ He couldn’t stop the nickname from slipping out of his mouth. No matter how screwed things were, the way Her body loosened slightly at the sound of it was always a small high, and Dean couldn’t figure out how to stop chasing it.

She scowled. “Hey-“

“You just got stabbed, and you haven’t woken up in six hours-“

“I’m awake now-“

“And I’d like to keep it like that.” Dean snapped. “I- you just gotta-“ He ran a hand over his face, because She didn’t want him there, but every time Her eyes drooped or Her body twitched with pain it made Dean’s gut contract. “At least keep Sammy. So you’re not alone.”

She rolled Her eyes. It really did fucking look like Bobby. “I’m not alone, dummy, you’re like two feet away.”

“What if you pass out again? Am I just supposed to pull over?”

“Yeah? I mean, I’m not gonna pass out-“

“You can’t know that, sweetheart-“

“I can guess.” She glowered at him, raising Her chin slightly, and even lying down She looked like royalty.  “It’s my body, Winchester, and I feel fine.”

“For now.” Dean muttered, and She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Shut up-“ She cut herself off with a yawn, and Dean’s jaw clenched. 

She couldn’t see Her. Every single second that passed no light returned to Her eyes, and everything just grew duller. She’d just yawned. But Dean was pretty certain that—if She hissed at Sam to get in the front seat and not bother worrying about her—the giant baby would listen.

Dean needed to work around this. She needed to be okay.

“You’ll need to keep talking.” He grunted, holding her gaze. “I hear one second of silence, and we’re pulling over so I can move back there. Understood?”

She gave him a flat look. “Are you serious-“

“Deadly, Princess. Understood?”

Dean might be imagining it, but a little color returned to Her face. The flush. And the breath. And the-

“Understood.” She muttered. “You’re such a fucking dick.”

“You’ve told me.” Dean turned back to face ahead, and she let out a long breath behind him. 

This silence was short, but maybe the heaviest Dean had ever experienced. It weighed on the top of his chest, and he didn’t know how to push it off, and he wanted to look at Her again, but he couldn’t bear it if She didn’t look at him-

“Dean,” She whispered, and his whole body went alert at the sound of her voice. Softer than usual, but still calling him down. “I’m-“

Whatever She was, Dean didn’t get to know. Sam knocked on his window, waving to Her in the backseat, and Dean had to turn and roll down the window so they could hear each other.

“Dude, why are you hunching down like that, just get in the freaking car-“

Sam rolled his eyes, not moving to from the window. “I still need to get coffee, Dean. And,” He said Her name with a grin, completely ignoring Dean’s glower. “You’re up!”

“Yep.” She returned Sam’s smile, and Dean scowled. She hadn’t smiled at him. “Thanks for the stitches.”

Sam shrugged, leaning a little further through the window. “No problem. They feel okay? Because I was rushing a little to get you on the road, and-“

“They feel fine, Sam. I feel fine.”

Those last words were shot at Dean, and he rolled his eyes. “You won the argument, Princess, don’t get all bitchy with me.”

“I am not being bitchy-“

“You’re being dramatic-“

“I just got fucking stabbed, Winchester, I can be as dramatic as I want.”

Dean scoffed, twisting in his seat. “I’m the one who had to watch you get stabbed-“

“How fucking harrowing for you-“

“What the hell does harrowing mean-“

“Hey!” Sam slapped Dean’s arm, shooting both of them a stern look. “You guys can fight all you want when we’re on the road, but we actually need to get on the road. Tell me what you want from the gas station, and kill each other after.”

She let out a long breath. “Sorry, Sam.”

“Thank you,” Sam said Her name, gave Dean a pointed glare, and Dean scowled. 

“I didn’t fucking do anything-“

She scoffed, the sound a rough cough that almost made Dean leap over the bench to pick Her up and hold her to his chest. “Oh, fuck off, Winchester-“

“Wouldn’t you love that, Princess-“

“Dean!” Sam snapped. “Don’t- Just tell me what you want, please.”

Dean opened his mouth, and She cut him off with sharp, short words.

“Don’t say pie. You’re driving.”

Dean was either going to smother Her with his hands around her neck, or with his mouth slammed to Her’s. She was so fucking hot, and annoying, and Dean wouldn’t strangle her because he knew his dumb body wouldn’t allow him, but Jesus, She needed to shut the hell up before Dean made her and then lost her forever-

“Dean?” Sam was raising his brows. Waiting for a response.

“Gimme some coffee.” He muttered, gripping the wheel like it could save him from Her glare, and how it made his skin feel sore. “And jerky.”

Sam nodded, glancing over to Her, and when she spoke her voice was too quiet. He watched to jump over the bench again. 

“Coffee and candy?”

“Sure, you want anything specific-“

“Whatever’s cheap.” She said, and Dean was going to break the wheel. 

His head was churning and spiraling again. She said that like Bobby said it. The same dismissive cheaper is easier, boy, and I ain’t an idiot to fall for fancy fuckin’ packagin’ tone.

“Snickers?” Sam offered, and She must have nodded because a second later, he was gone.

It was silent. So silent that Dean had a brief, stabbing moment of worry that She was passed out again. His eyes flicked up to the mirror again, and Her eyes were open—pretty and glaring at Dean like She wanted to stab him—but they looked lidded. And the little furrow was becoming more prominent, and Her breathing was a little too shallow, and-

“You’re supposed to be talking.” Dean snapped, and She rolled Her eyes. And it was still exactly like Bobby did, but, son of a bitch it was so much hotter-

He needed to get a grip. He needed to figure out how—when they eventually did get to Sioux Falls—he was ever going to be able to look at Her and not wonder how he hadn’t seen it before. He was a little fucking worried he’d look at Bobby and start to feel that gravitational pull. That Dean would start to orbit around Bobby, and smell him all the time, and hear his voice in dreams-

If that happened, Dean would need to give himself a concussion and pray it erased his memory. He already didn’t love how he wanted nothing more than to crawl over Her and make her smile, and if he started to crave Bobby’s attention too, he’d lose his mind. Crashing into Her was usually good, when she wasn’t trying to give him a heart attack or being the most impossible person Dean had ever met. Crashing into Bobby would be gross. If Dean had to start fantasizing about Bobby under him when he fucked someone, he might just have to kill himself-

“Dean!” She was shouting, Her voice slightly strained, and he turned to frown at Her.

“What’s-“

“What am I supposed to be talking about?”

He frowned. “I don’t fucking care-“

“Alright, then I won’t-“

“No.” Dean pointed a stern finger at Her, narrowing his eyes. “You gotta talk. That was the deal.”

“I didn’t make a deal, you just ordered me to talk-“

“I did not order you, Princess, I’m trying to goddamn keep you alive after you went and got stabbed-“

“Oh, suck my fucking dick-“

The car door opened, and they both turned to see Sam leaning into the car, coffees in hand and snacks under his arms.

“Oh, good, you didn’t murder each other.” Sam passed out their coffees and snacks, his voice a dry mutter that was gonna get him punched. “Actually,” he frowned between them. “If you’re going to fight for the rest of the ride, can Dean  sit in the back so I can tune it out-“

“Neither of you are sitting in the back.” She pushed Herself upright with a small, weak sound, and Her hands were shaking. Dean was going to tackle Her.

“Maybe, uh,” Sam glanced at Dean as he said Her name, like he could see the rough tension over his heart at Her insistence to be as difficult as possible. “I mean, I really don’t mind if I do have to sit with you-“

“I’ll be alright without a babysitter-“

“Because you’re going to keep talking.” Dean muttered, drumming his hands on the wheel. “Sammy, apparently her majesty can’t come up with a topic, so that’s on you, but I don’t want a single second of silence, sweetheart, or-“

“You’ll pull over and be a massive fucking baby.” She snapped, and Dean wished She wasn’t so hot when she was pissed. “He threatened me, Sam.”

Dean scowled. “I did not threaten you-“

“Fine. It was blackmail.”

“It was- I-“ Dean whipped around to glower at her. “You’re such a fucking-“

“Bitch?” She sneered, holding his gaze. “Am I a bitch? Am I a spoiled little bitch?”

“That’s- You know I wasn’t-“

“Trying to hurt my little bratty girl feelings-“

“I never fucking said-“

She scoffed, and Dean could swear something hot and wired was fueling all his anger. Maybe it was how the air in the car seemed to be waving, or how every word was venomous and cold and making something inside of him wither, or how breathing was so fucking painful when She was furious and sneering-

“That I’m a bitch? That I’m a controlling fucking bitch-���

“Shut up! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Dean slammed his hand on the bench, and She flinched. Visibly flinched. Recoiled. 

“I- I didn’t-“ She swallowed, staring at Her cup in her hands. “Sorry.”

Dean was a piece of fucking shit. He’d done it again. He’d pushed it too far because he was an asshole.

He muttered Her name, his voice low. “I didn’t- I’m-“

“Don’t.” She mumbled, and She wouldn’t look at him. “I’ll keep talking.”

Dean’s jaw clenched, and all he could do was nod. She looked sick. He fucking felt sick. He kept slamming his fist between them, making everything worse, hurting Her in a way he’d never seemed to be able to hurt anyone before-

Sam cleared his throat. Dean had forgotten he was there.

“So, uh, we’re talking.”

Dean opened his mouth to say no, they needed to fucking patch whatever the hell was wrong with him with glue, so he could shove himself into her hands as a pathetic, useless apology, but She was faster. Better. Still a liar, still in pain, but also still beautiful. Still so far away from Dean.

“Yeah. Get in the car.”

Sam nodded, shooting Dean one last look, and leaned out of the car. Dean started the engine—biting his tongue not to vomit a million apologies he knew wouldn’t come out right—and they were back on the road.

Four hours until they hit Bobby’s.

Four hours of beating himself bloody in silence, and listening to Her speak.

Normally Dean would’ve thought there was no better way to spend his time than being drowned in Her voice, and hearing her say anything at all. But normally She wasn’t in this pain, where She’d gesture too broadly and hiss, or Baby would hit a bump and She’d whine. Normally he didn’t have to force himself not to look at Her—and whenever he lost control and his eyes slipped to Her in the mirror, she didn’t look so colorless and drained—and normally Dean allowed himself to speak to Her in more than grunts. 

She was acting like everything was fine. Sometimes he’d look back and She’d be smiling, and it didn’t reach Her eyes, and Dean had done that. That wasn’t the injury. 

That was just Dean. Ruining everything because She’d fallen from the sky into his hands and he’d bashed Her into the mud.

“There’s…” Sam was said Her name, his voice filled with disbelief. “You don’t actually think that, right?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t think it-“

“But it’s Star Wars! I mean, it’s not perfect, but you can’t seriously believe it’s bad.”

“It is bad, Sam. It’s objectively poorly written, but it has iconic imagery, music, and actors-“

“Because it’s not bad!”

It had been thirty minutes of this. Sam hadn’t needed to look that hard to find a topic, and the moment he’d said the words Uh, you like movies? Dean had known it was over. He’d had this exact conversation with Her before, and it had involved a lot more yelling and shoving than Sam was getting.

It had also involved Her giggling and smiling and leaning so close that Dean could see even the smallest features on her face—tiny bumps and scars, little divets that somehow made Her more beautiful—and smell that strange fruit until it intoxicated him, and he’d thrown his hands up in surrender. 

Her eyes had sparkled then. She still wouldn’t look at him now. Even when Sam would echo a point Dean had made before, She shot it down with ease—and a careful, detailed argument that made Dean think She’s been freaking practicing—and Sam would let out a sigh that sounded a little like a whine.

“I don’t think it’s useless, you know. I’m saying it’s not-“

“You just called it the most overhyped movie ever made!”

“And it is, but that’s why it’s not useless. It was the primary cause of science fiction being popularized-“

“Because people liked it!” Sam looked to Dean with wide eyes—as if Dean could fucking do something about this—and then back to Her with a shaking head. “I- They’re maybe the most popular movies of all time-“

“Popularity doesn’t equate quality, Sam.” She said, and Dean hoped She couldn’t see him mouthing along with her every word, knowing exactly what she’d say. “It can, but it doesn’t have to. Star Wars being popular is its greatest strength, because that mean it was able to serve as inspiration for many, better things.”

Sam scoffed. “Like what?”

That was a mistake. If Dean was allowing himself to participate in the conversation, he would’ve been able to tell Sammy that saying that—especially in a doubtful tone—was never a good idea. She’d have examples, and if She didn’t, she’d come up with some right here in the car.

Dean had fallen for that trap before. And he was too fucking tired and bitter to save Sam from it.

“I’m so glad you asked, Samuel.” Dean glanced in the mirror, and that was a wide, blinding, almost manic grin that appeared when She was about to hand Dean’s ass to him on a platter.

He almost felt bad for Sam.

“I- Samuel?”

She hummed, completely ignoring Sam’s indigence. “Almost all science-fiction movies are somewhat inspired by Star Wars, or owe Star Wars the popularity of the genre. And, Star Wars significantly popularized the use of Monomyth in film-“

Dean didn’t remember what Monomyth was. Sam didn’t seem to either, because She cut herself off with a sigh.

“The Hero’s Journey. In movies.”

“Oh.” Sam frowned. “Dean said you didn’t go to college.”

Dean cringed slightly, feeling Her glare through the mirror. 

“Did he.”

“Yeah, it’s just surprising, you’re smart-“

“I don’t have to go to college to be smart.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, you just- You don’t sound like you didn’t-“

“I’ve read a lot.” She said, and a vision of Bobby’s library flashed through Dean’s head.

There were a shit ton of books in there. Even Sam hadn’t read them all, and Dean was pretty sure Bobby hadn’t either, but he also remembered Bobby saying that they’d all been read.

By Her.

“And,” She was still talking. Of course She was. “I’ve watched a lot of TV, which is how I know I’m right. Star Wars is terrible-“

In the corner of his eye, Dean watched Sam open his mouth, and then make his first good choice of the day and close it.

“But it’s also the only reason we have Indiana Jones-“

“You like Indiana Jones?”

Dean rolled his eyes. Another mistake from Kid Genius in shotgun-

“Shut up, Winchester.”

Dean blinked, scowling at the road. “I didn’t say anything-“

“You were going to.” She snapped, and when Dean glanced back, she was glaring at him. “So shut up.”

Sam frowned between them. “Why would Dean-“

“Her majesty loves Indiana Jones.” Dean grunted. “Good luck, Sammy.”

“Don’t wish him luck, I’m not going to try to kill him-“

“Sure, Princess.”

She kicked the back of Dean’s seat, and he didn’t even grunt. The hit was weaker than usual, and it wasn’t because She wasn’t trying.

She was just weaker. She was still coughing and taking breaths that were far too long. Her eyes were still a little hollowed, and lips in too tight a line, and brow drawn in pain. Dean couldn’t fucking stand it. He wanted to pull over, grab Her and demand that they forgive each other now—or at least try to pretend nothing had happened in the first place—because she was hurt and needed Dean’s help-

“I’m not going to kill you, Sam.” She said, and Sam didn’t look all that reassured. “And I do love Indiana Jones. I think it’s fun.”

Sam frowned. “Star Wars is fun.”

“Star Wars parodies are fun. There’s an episode of the Muppet Show with the Star Wars cast, and it’s better than all the actual Star Wars movies combined.”

She and Sam kept talking—Sam refused to believe one single episode of television could be greater than a film trilogy, and Dean didn’t think She was capable of just surrendering any sort of argument—and Dean’s head started to wander again. Back to Bobby’s house, and every single sign of Her he’d never noticed. Never had reason to notice, or dwell on, or observe, but now he couldn’t stop remembering all the grenadine in Bobby’s fridge that the man himself never seemed to touch, but always seemed to be in use. All the normal books that weren’t for hunting, and didn’t seem like things Bobby would read.

If Dean squinted in his head, he could see the VHS tapes stacked near the TV. There had been a lot of movies he’d stayed up late to watch—action movies and westerns and some fancy art films he hadn’t action movies and TV shows-really understood—but also some he’d never touched. Comedy films and chick flicks and-

“Bobby had that show.” Dean muttered, and She and Sam fell silent. “The Muppet Show. He had a freakin’ VHS tape.”

They hadn’t mentioned it since She woke up. The looming axe over all their heads, that they were heading to Bobby’s, and She’d fucking lied about knowing him. 

But Dean hadn’t been able to stop himself. He was never able to stop himself with Her. It was fucking amazing, how he kept managing to make this whole thing worse.

“Yeah.” She muttered. She’d tucked Her knees to her chest. “He does.”

Sam cleared his throat, his voice gentle. “I, uh, you don’t have to answer, but can I ask how you know Bobby? Dean said he raised you-“

“He did.”

“Oh.” Sam looked between Her and Dean with a frown. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Her voice becoming taut, and it squeezed around Dean’s throat. “I’ve told you my dad is a hunter-“

“So Bobby’s your dad?”

“No, it’s-“ She sighed. “I- It’s easier to say father than man who raised me. We’re not related.”

Sam nodded slowly, and Dean stayed perfectly fucking still in his seat. If he moved or breathed wrong, She might remember he was here and stop sharing things. 

“If you- How have we never met before?” Sam’s voice was cautious. Dean understood that. “It’s just, Dean and I have known Bobby our whole lives, we’ve spent weeks at his house-“

“I was…” She swallowed, Dean didn’t have to look back to know Her head would be bowed, and she’d be picking Her skin bloody. “Really sick. I had to be kept separated from other people.”

It wasn’t a lie. Dean could fucking hear it, could feel the sinking ache into his bones at Her tired, heavy voice. And it didn’t matter how vague and useless an answer that was—how it just left him with more questions about how sick She’d been, what type of sickness, if She was alright now when she didn’t really seem to be—because it was the truth. 

And She looked sad. She wouldn’t look up, and She was tucked into Herself, and there was hair blocking all Her features from view, and Dean wanted to move it and touch Her, trace his hands over Her face until she smiled and her body went loose-

She wouldn’t let him touch Her. If he tried, he’d probably get punched in the gut, and it would leave a gash in his intestine he didn’t know how to prevent or heal.

He was still pathetic though. Still feeling an itch on his skin the longer She looked like she was trying to hide from something invisible, the longer Her brow pressed to Her knees and the acidic silence stretched on.

He couldn’t just stop.

“Keep talking, Princess.” He grunted, and he could feel Her glare sear through his head. It was better than nothing. 

“Dean,” Sam’s voice was too gentle. He didn’t get it. How She was too quiet and too bendable and it was making Dean feel sunken and empty. “Maybe we can just listen to music or something-“

“No. Talk.” 

Sam’s eyes widened, and if he kept gaping like that, Dean was going to kick and punch him. 

“Well, Deano,” She was still glaring at him from the backseat. “What the fuck should I be talking about?“

“Anything, just-“

“Anything isn’t helpful-“

“Tell Sammy what food he is.” Dean snapped, and Sam blinked. 

“Tell me what?”

“I’m pie,” Dean muttered, his grip on the wheel white knuckled. “Because the smartass back there is a little genius.”

“I am a genius.” Her voice was harsher than before. Stronger. “And I didn’t just say you were a pie, I said you were pecan pie, you asshole-“

“Same thing-“

“It’s not. The specification is important-“

“It’s damn pie, sweetheart. Pie is pie-“

“Why pecan?” Sam asked. “I mean, why not apple, or cherry-“

“Because I don’t pander.” She said, and Dean had to bite down a snort. “And he’s not nearly sweet enough to be cherry-“

Dean frowned. “Hey-“

“And,” She pushed on, ignoring Dean entirely. “The chewiness of pecan is very Dean.”

He didn’t know how to protest that. He didn’t know what to say to that. Not when he glanced back in the mirror and Her face was so unreadable.

She didn’t sound as pissed anymore. Dean didn’t know what to do with that.

“Okay.” Sam was nodding, looking between Her and Dean with another unreadable expression. Everyone needed to start saying what they were thinking soon, or Dean was gonna lose it. “I- Yeah. I can see that. What food am I, then?”

“Bubblegum.” 

Her answer was quick, and if Dean didn't have to drive and brood, he would've laughed at the look on Sammy's face.

"I- Why?"

“You’re sweet. And flexible but still kinda stiff.” 

Dean frowned, lowering his voice to speak under his breath. “I’m sweet.”

She hummed. “Yeah, but you’re an acquired taste, Deano. Like pecan.”

She kept talking, but the word bounced and echoed around Dean’s head. Deano. She only called him Deano when he’d said or done something stupid, but She wasn’t really that pissed about it. Deano had an underlying tone of affection to it. A higher sound on the De and a long moment on the O.

She might not hate him.

“Okay.” Sam was nodding slowly, still twisted in his seat. “I can be bubblegum. Is- Do you do that a lot?”

“Do what?”

“Uh, sort people, I guess? Like, what type of drink would you say I am?”

“She doesn’t drink, Sammy.” Dean muttered, and his seat got kicked again.

“I still know what drinks are-““Could you tell us what each one is like?” =

There was a brief pause—Dean could imagine the small, pouting frown on Her face—and then- “No.”

Dean shot Her a wink in the mirror before he could think better, and it was a mistake. She was glowering at him. She was really hot when She glowered at him—Dean could easily imagine smoke rising off Her body and small, silver spark flying over his skin when he touched Her—but her easy, high beauty wasn’t nearly enough to distract Dean from how shitty she looked. There was more gray in Her face than before, She was curled more into her own body, and, son of a bitch, Her eyes were fluttering slightly-

“What about music genres?” Dean said, just to keep Her talking, and She blinked at him. “What?”

“Music genres, Princess. You know hip-hop, pop, the blues-“

“I know what music genres are, asshole, why are you-“

“Which are we.” Dean gave a vague, one-handed wave between himself and Sammy. “Do your thing.”

“I don’t have a thing-“

“Yeah, you do. Give it a shot, sweetheart. Music genres.”

Sam gave Dean an unwelcome, amused look. “You know, it kind of feels like one of us-“

“Shut up, Sammy.” Dean looked back in the mirror, raising his brows at Her. “And you’re supposed to be talking.”

She wrinkled Her nose him, but she also started talking, so Dean didn’t really care all that much. He was rock—but She was annoying, said Latin pop first, and giggled for five straight minutes after—and Sammy was jazz. Fancy bar Jazz. 

Dean didn’t know what that meant.

But he really liked the sound of Her voice, and the way She said most everything. She could’ve probably called Sam country music and he’d agree, just because of how She’d say. With a smooth, passive authority that told something in Dean’s brain She’s right. All the freaking time, even when She’s obviously wrong, she’s still right.

Sam was starbursts, and Dean was a KitKat. Dean was dusk, and Sam was noon. Sam was a Lily of the Valley, and Dean was a rose.

Dean had no interest in being a flower. He did like Her telling him what he was. He liked the idea that She’d been looking at him. That She’d thought about him enough to think he’d be a car if he was on object—which was a cheap shot, but still made Dean feel fuzzy—or a tree if he was a plant, or a seal if he lived in the ocean.

He frowned, waiting for Her to elaborate—he still wasn’t allowing himself to speak all that much, because this felt delicate and still slightly fractured—and decided he wouldn’t kick Sam’s ass for being a butthead the whole car ride when the kid took the bullet for him. 

“Why am I an octopus?”

She yawned. It made Dean’s stomach clench. “You’re productive and floppy.”

Dean snorted, and Sam shot him a glare.

“Well then, why’s Dean a seal-“

“Cause he’s all big and toothy.”

Dean scowled. He wasn’t nearly as big and toothy as Sammy was, but fighting with Her on reasoning almost always ended up being a dead end. Just as how asking Her what she was only ever resulted in a hum and shrug. Dean’s goal was to keep Her talking, so he had to move on. 

“Whatever, Princess. What about out of the ocean animals?”

She shifted a little in Her seat—letting out a small noise that hurt Dean’s whole body—but kept talking. Sam was this, and Dean was that. Dean was that, and Sam was this.

And every time she spoke, Dean could imagine the tilt of Her head, the way she was probably rubbing Her skin at she examined them and thought of an answer with far too much sincerity. He wanted to rub Her skin. To trace his hands up Her legs, watch Her look at him with nothing but softness in her eyes, feel nothing but molten light fill him up from the inside-

He needed to figure out how the hell She always did that. How all of Dean’s fury was now smothered and coated Her, how all the way in his soft tissue he just really wanted to touch Her. To stop giving Her reasons to sneer at him, to stop pushing Her until she fell away forever, for everything to just be alright. 

For this conversation to be not edged with the knowledge that She probably didn’t want him around now. Even if She didn’t hate him, he must have snapped everything too much to fix it. 

But Dean was pathetic, so he still wanted to care for and protect and follow Her.

He wanted to fix this. To salvage it. 

He didn’t know how. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just drop this, just sit with the fact that everything was ruined and over. Why something to the right of his heart seemed to pound and roar at the idea of never touching Her again. Not ever a hand on Her back or brief high-five. 

Worse was imagining never hearing Her voice again. Only hearing it call him on the wind.

He couldn’t really hear Her voice now. 

She’d slumped forward, Her brow resting near Dean’s shoulder and her eyes turned towards the floor. 

“Dean.” She mumbled, and his whole body tensed. “Can we be done with the talking game?”

“No,” Dean grunted Her name. “It’s not a game, you gotta keep talking-“

“I’m good.” She let out a long breath. It was too ragged. “I- I think I’m just a little tired.”

“Well, I need you to keep fucking talking-“

She shook Her head, her temple pressing right into Dean’s arm. “I don’t- it hurts, Dean.” She made a high, weak noise, and Dean was going to break the wheel with only his hands. “Can I have five minutes, please?”

Fuck. She was saying please. 

“Princess, just- shit- for an hour, keep talking for an hour- Sammy-“

“Got it. Hey,” Sam said Her name, and his voice was too gentle. She needed it to be shouted, She needed to hear that she had to stay awake, that it wasn’t a damn option for Her to sleep. “Can you tell me more about, uh, movies? What’s your favorite movie?”

She didn’t have a favorite movie. She had about fifty, and they were all dumb, and She was always adorable when She told Dean about them, and why wasn’t She talking-

“Sammy.” She mumbled, grabbing Sam’s arm and turning Her head to him. Away from Dean. “Why does Dean call you that?”

“It was, uh, it was my nickname growing up.” Sam swallowed, giving Dean a desperate look as he continued. “Did you have a nickname, when you were a kid?”

“No.” She mumbled. “People don’t give smart little whores nicknames. But,” Her voice got softer, dropping like She was telling a secret. “Dean calls me Princess sometimes.”

“Yeah, uh, I’ve heard it. He said it like five seconds ago-“

“I like it.” She said, and Dean was going to grind his teeth to dust. “I like him. He’s an asshole, Sammy, but I like him.”

Sam had no right to look like he’d been punched. Dean was the one who had to keep driving and acting like he couldn’t hear.

Sam said Her name, his tone slow and careful. “I think-“

“There’s something wrong with me.” She said, and there was nothing angry in Her voice. She really just sounded sad. Sad and tired. “It really hurts.”

“I know, but Dean’s right, you need to stay awake until we get to Bobby’s-“

She groaned, and leaned further into Dean’s arm. “He’s gonna kill me-“

Sam shook his head. “I don’t think he’ll kill you-“

“He will. He’s gonna tell me I’ve been dumb and reckless, that I was supposed to-“ She paused, then sighed. “I’m not supposed to tell you.”

Sam frowned, looking back to Dean. He needed to stop doing that. Dean didn’t have a clue what was going on. “Why?”

“You’ll tell Dean. Then Dean will kill me. I like him, I don’t want him to kill me.”

“I’m pretty sure Dean’s not gonna kill you-“

“He is.” She let out another sad, little sigh. “He already hates me, Sam-“

“He doesn’t-“

“I don’t…” She yawned, shifting Her head just enough for Dean to see her eyes were closed. “I don’t hate him. I think he’s…”

She yawned again. And She didn’t finish her sentence, and Dean could swear their bodies were going to be glued together. She didn’t seem to remember he was there, but She was still moving closer into him, and he was going to go fucking insane.

Because She was asleep, and they still had an hour to go.

Dean swerved over from the far-hand lane, stopped Baby on the side of the highway, and got out of the car. Sam was smart and understood what was happening—scooting into the driver’s seat without a word—and She just kept fucking sleeping. 

She barely stirred when Dean pulled Her backwards, letting Her head rest on his chest and her body slump in his arms. He wasn’t supposed to allow himself to touch Her like this. She might stab Dean if she found out he was hugging Her, holding Her like she was fragile and vital to everything around him. She would stab him again when he’d tell Her that’s because she was. 

Everything was easier when he stroked his thumb down Her nose, and She let out a soft, breathy sound before curling fully into his body. The same way She’d tuck into herself, or sink into the mattress or couch after an episode. Like She was trying to shield herself from something. 

But now, Dean was Her shield.

And he was so goddamn confused.

They had an hour until Bobby’s—more like fifty minutes now—and Dean still couldn’t wrap his head around what was becoming more and more obviously the truth. 

If it was, She wouldn’t be spoiled. And that would make sense—She’d never really seemed spoiled, mostly just smart and confident—if that didn’t really mean that She’d been raised by Bobby. That the girl who’d painted Her nails on Dean’s motel table, who always smelled like sugar and fruit and kind of looked like She was forged deep in a star, had been raised by freaking Bobby. Beer and books and cars and no need to give me extra attention Bobby. The Bobby who was practical, and sharp, and didn’t take any shit-

Son of a bitch. 

It still didn’t make sense. There was no reason for Her to lie about knowing Bobby. Dean had even told Her he liked Bobby. That Bobby was the best hunter he knew, after Dad. 

He’d probably yell at Her about it, if he could. Shout and sneer and bite—he didn’t know how to just be moderate with Her, how to hold himself the hell together—until She gave him answers. And that never seemed to work. 

But Dean also never seemed to learn. Not when it came to Her.

Because even as the confusion and anger bubbled in his chest, it wasn’t nearly as powerful as how goddamn sick he felt. Yelling at Her had gotten them here, and Dean never learned. If he hadn’t pushed and snapped Her, she never would’ve gone off alone, and the demon never would’ve seen her. It had probably realized that She was a hunter and stuck to her trail.

She wouldn’t be in all this mumbled, whined pain if it wasn’t for Dean. She wouldn’t be in danger. She’d probably just be sitting with him and Sam at a diner, laughing and talking until they parted, then found their way back to each other’s paths a few weeks later. 

This time, Dean didn’t think She’d come back. One way or another, She’d be gone. There was the way that made the pit in his chest turn into a chasm—the way he outright refused to entertain—but there was also the second, slower way. Where She didn’t hate him, and She wasn’t gone, but Dean still lost Her. She left, and he was alone.

Dean wouldn’t allow the first way to happen. Every time Her breathing was too shallow, he’d snap at Sam to hurry up and try to soothe Her until it was even again. He could give CPR, if he had to. He didn’t know how to do CPR—he should probably learn—but he’d seen Sammy do it, and it didn’t look that hard. Dean could sing Stayin’ Alive. He could press his lips to Her’s and give her his fucking lungs out of his chest to fix this. He could peel off his skin and patch it over Her wound if he needed to. 

Stab wounds aren’t supposed to be this bad. And Dean had never been stabbed by a demon, but he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be any different. The knife that the son of a bitch had lodged in Her gut hadn’t even been all that special. Just a smooth, iron blade that was knocking Her—Her—down for the count. 

She had to hang on. Dean would want it to be for him, but he knew better, so he’d settle for it being for Bobby. 

Because Sam finally parked the car in Bobby’s yard, and Bobby was already outside. Hunched on the step, shooting to his feet before the engine was even off. 

Dean suddenly felt like he really shouldn’t be touching Her, or holding her tight against his chest, or trying to smell Her like a creep every few minutes. She smelled good. Like wet dirt—but in a sharp, earthy way that mostly made Dean feel comfortable—chlorine, something vanilla that was cheap and strong, and there was the fucking fruit-

Bobby probably wouldn’t care that She smelled like an odd, unplaceable fruit. He also didn’t have to know why She smelled like chlorine. Dean wasn’t looking to get shot and—based on the way Bobby was glowering at him through the window—explaining what they’d been doing last night didn’t feel like it would be welcome information. 

Because Bobby had never looked at him like that. Really fucking angry, with a drawn brow and deep scowl. Dean couldn’t tell if the glare was at him, or for Her, but he knew Bobby was pissed. If his expression wasn’t a give away, the gruff, low tone of his voice was.

Dean was barely out of the car—Her body cradled carefully in his arms, an apologetic grimace already on his face—when Bobby started snapping.

“Fuckin’- balls- Bring ‘er inside Dean, and Sam, grab the stitch kit. My stitch kit, I don’t wanna be usin’ that fuckin’ weak one in the trunk of your car.”

Sam nodded, walking into the house with a tight, nervous expression at Dean over his shoulder. Dean would’ve shrugged in return, but he didn’t want to shake Her in his arms, or make Bobby think he wasn’t taking this seriously. He was. He couldn’t not, because it was Her. And Her breathing was weak, and Her features were so washed over and Her lips were pale and she kept clinging to Dean’s arm-

“Dean.” Bobby grunted, jerking his head to the door. “Inside, now.”

“Yes, si-“ Dean cut himself off, changing himself to only a nod as he moved her into the house.

It was exactly as he remembered it. Nothing ever really changed at Bobby’s house, and every piece of furniture and color was exactly in place with how it had been in Dean’s head, but there more now.

Things Dean had seen but never really given deeper thought, like a mug that was a soft pastel color in the side-table—slightly stained with coffee, and looking long-empty but never moved—and chapstick near the TV, and-

“That’s her jacket.” Dean said, a little stupidly, and Bobby shot him an odd look.

“What’re you talkin’ about-“

Dean said Her name, nodding to the leather jacket that was hooked over a chair. It was a woman’s jacket, not really Bobby’s style, and Her’s. Dean knew it was Her’s. She about ten different jackets—all in different styles and cuts and materials—but Dean also knew all of them. That was the one She’d been wearing on the onryu hunt, that had ended stained in her own blood and the spirit’s ash. She’d shoved it into her trunk before She left the next day, and told Dean she’d clean it later when he’d offered, because he was pathetic and hadn’t known how to not offer. 

He’d asked if She even knew how to clean it. She’d flipped him off, told him She did, and said that she’d do it when She got home.

A small part of Dean had gotten toxic at the idea of Her being home. That maybe She’d just pass the jacket off to a servant she didn’t know the name of—She’d probably have known the name, but it served Dean’s anger better to imagine she was worse than she was—and let them touch a piece of Her instead of Dean.

But She’d been here. Cleaned the jacket here, at Her home. 

And there really wasn’t any evidence to prove that She didn’t belong here. So Dean was fucked.

“That’s… It’s her jacket.”

Bobby sighed, rolling his eyes. “Believe it or not, Dean, I’m aware. Put ‘er down on the table.”

Dean nodded, tearing his gaze away from Her jacket and setting her flat on the dining room table. She tried to hold onto him. Dean pulled back, and She tried to hold onto him, and he was going to go insane.

Bobby didn’t wait for Dean to fully step away before he was moving. Adjusting Her on the table so She wasn’t trying to sink into the wood, scanning over her with a tight, unreadable expression.

“Knife got in her gut?”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered, his hands fisting at his side. “Sammy did stitches, but they were quick, and-“

“I’ll fix ‘em.” Bobby grunted, hiking Her shirt up her stomach and-

Fuck. 

The wound was worse. The stitches looked frayed in Her body, and her skin was definitely blistering, and there was something yellow and sticky that smelled horrible-

“Dean,” Bobby’s voice was tight, his eyes never leaving the wound. “This ain’t lookin’ like a stab wound-“

“It was, Bobby, I saw it-“

“You still got the weapon?”

Dean nodded, and Bobby let out a long breath.

“Alright, go get it while I deal with ‘er.”

Dean didn’t want to go get the weapon. He didn’t want to leave Her side. She was in pain, and She’d tried to hang onto Dean and he didn’t want to leave Her-

“What’re you just standin’ here for-“

“You can-“ Dean swallowed, his attention trapped on Her dulled, beautiful face. “Bobby, you can fix this, right? She’ll- She’s gonna be okay?”

“She’ll be alright. Gonna have some explain’ to do when she gets up, but she’ll live.”

“Explaining-“

“How the hell she ended up with you boys and a knife in her damn gut. Matter of fact, you and your brother better start gettin’ your story straight, cause I ain’t just gonna let you drop my kid off bleedin’ on my doorstep then drive away.”

Dean tensed, and finally managed to really look at Bobby. His expression was still flat, still neutral, but there was something in his eyes Dean hadn’t seen before. Not glazed, but not sharp, just… heavy. Bobby looked heavy. He was staring at Her body with a painfully neutral face that had slightly lines of tension on the edges. He was standing taller than usual, his whole body rigid and wound up, and Dean could really, truly see it. 

It had been the truth. If the way Bobby stood and spoke—in tight, clipped words like he didn’t have room to be anything but short—wasn’t a giveaway, it was those last words.

My kid. 

Bobby’s kid.

She was Bobby’s fucking kid. 

Dean forced himself to move away, his head ducked down and his steps quick as he passed Sam with only a grunt of acknowledgment and returned to the Impala trunk. Sam hadn’t been careful about how he’d grabbed Her things. They were smushed and scattered, pressed against each other and all looking like Her things. Those were things she owned, that they’d grabbed from Her car and motel room. Clothing that wasn’t covered in blood and dirt, a lot of notebooks Dean really had to fight himself not to read, and fewer personal possessions than he would’ve thought. 

There was that small, colorful bag that had all Her girl stuff in it, and Her knife, and a backpack that—when Dean zipped it open—was filled with more notebooks, and… plants and rocks. A lot of plants and rocks.

He didn’t have time to try and work out why the hell She was keeping plants and rocks in her bag. He didn’t have time to overstep and push it like he always did, and let himself comb through those notebooks. One did fall open, but nothing Dean saw in it made sense—he didn’t speak that language, he didn’t even recognize it, and there was a weird drawing that he didn’t even know how to start interpreting—so he had to move on. To grab the demon’s knife from when he’d tucked it in the back and close the trunk, because all of this could wait until She was better.

She’d have to get better. 

Sam and Bobby were working in silence when Dean returned. Sam holding Her arms to the side as Bobby cleaned the wound and re-did the stitches, a bottle of water at his side that he kept pouring over her skin.

Dean set the knife on the kitchen counter, walking over to stand by Her head. That little wrinkle was back, and Her lips were pressed together, and She was in pain-

He had to restrain his hands to stop them from moving to touch Her. To sooth the wrinkle and brush sweat and hair from Her face. Sammy wasn’t holding Her right. His grip was too tight, and Her arm didn’t look like it was at a good angle, and Dean could hold Her better-

She took a slow, ragged breath, eyes fluttering, and Bobby glanced up to where Dean was standing over Her.

“You get the knife?”

“On the counter,” Dean muttered. “She’s…”

He trailed off, and Bobby let out a long breath. “She’s alright. Almost done with these, and I’m gonna have to fight with her about restin’ when she gets up, but you get ‘er here quick enough. Nothin’ that can’t be patched up.”

Dean glanced down to the wound, and that seemed true. Bobby’s stitches were cleaner than Sam’s, and the pus was half-gone. He didn’t really know how that was possible. Infections didn’t usually just… vanish. But Bobby splashed more of the water over Her stomach, made another stitch, and Her breathing grew steadier. 

There were too many questions. What was with the water. Why had one stab wound managed to infect and maul Her skin like that. How the actual fuck was She Bobby’s kid, and why had Bobby never mentioned Her, and why had She lied about something so dumb, and did Bobby know about Her family? About the shit Dad had found, about Her past, about all those weird episodes and how She always hunted alone, except when She was hinting with Dean-

Dean didn’t think Bobby had known they were hunting together. Which offered another question about why. Why hadn’t She told him. Why did She think Bobby would kill her for this, when it wasn’t Her fault, it was Dean’s.

Bobby might kill him. Dean had never seen Bobby so pissed with him. Every time he grunted for Dean to pass him something, his eyes were harsh and focused. It wasn’t hateful, but it was angry.

But Dean had gotten Her hurt. He deserved it. 

If She stopped talking to him after, he’d deserve that too. If Dad snapped at him for being an idiot when Bobby told him they’d been hunting together, Dean would deserve it-

“You say a demon attacked her?” Bobby’s question was quiet, and Dean almost didn’t hear it. 

He nodded, and Bobby’s jaw clenched.

“You see the assholes eyes?”

“His eyes?” Sam frowned. “You mean the demon-blink thing? Where their eyes go all black?”

Bobby looked up, frown deepening. “They were black?”

“I- I think so?” Sam looked for Dean for help, and Dean just shrugged. He hadn’t really been looking into the demon’s eyes, more focused on beating the shit out of it, and helping Her. 

“I dunno, Sammy-“

“Did you see them?” Bobby interrupted, glaring between Sam and Dean as he cut another stitch. “See the bastard go all black?”

Sam shook his head. “I didn’t, but demons have black eyes-“

“Not all demons.” Bobby muttered, glancing up to Her still pained face. “I’ve seen black eyes, orange eyes, and red eyes. If you boys saw anythin’-“

“We didn’t.” Dean looked over Her, then back to the wound. “It attacked, stabbed her, and Sammy exorcized it. Son of a bitch got away-“

“It give you a name?”

Dean frowned. “We didn’t exactly have time to introduce ourselves and shake hands, Bobby-“

“No, ya’ idjit, if we have a name we can know what we’re lookin’ for.”

“Looking for?” Sam leaned forward, looking between Her and Bobby with a frown. “Has- Have you needed to look for a demon before? Like dad?”

“No, Sam, I ain’t-“ Bobby cut himself off, his head shooting up to glare between Sam and Dean. “Did John know you boys have been huntin’ with her?” 

“That’s uh…” Sam cleared his throat. “That’s a question for Dean, I think.”

Bobby raised his brows, and Dean scowled. Sam was back on the getting punched list.

“Never got a chance to mention it.” He muttered. “Haven’t seen Dad in months.”

Sam rolled his eyes—punched and kicked—and Bobby’s shoulders visibly relaxed. Dean wanted to ask what the hell that was about—Dad was a good man, even if Dean never really wanted Her around him—but Bobby was already moving on.

“How long you been huntin’ together?”

“A few years.” Sam said, and Dean shot him a glare.

“How’d- You weren’t even fucking there, Sammy-“

“She told me on the onryu hunt.” Sam shrugged, looking back to Bobby. “They’ve been hunting together for years.”

Bobby’s jaw tightened. “That true, Dean?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dean, you call me sir again and I’m makin’ you wait outside-“

“Sorry, I-“ Dean let out a long breath, his gaze trapping back on Her. In so much fucking pain. “It’s true. And she, uh, she never mentioned she knew you, Bobby.”

Bobby huffed something that might have been a laugh. “Wish I could say I was surprised by that.”

“You aren’t?” Sam blinked. “I mean, I- I’m still not understanding-

“Questions later, Sam.” Bobby grunted, cutting the last stitch. “Right now I need your hands brinin’ her shit inside.”

Sam frowned. “Can’t Dean-“

“Dean’s stayin’ here.” Bobby shot him a glare, and Dean swallowed. “No fuckin’ funny business while I’m gone, boy-“

“She’s passed out, Bobby-“

“And if she wakes up, you’re askin’ her how she feels, callin’ me, and droppin’ it there.” Bobby’s eyes narrowed. “No fuckin’ interrogations. You can ask me questions when we get ‘er settled. Understood?”

Dean scowled, but nodded, and Bobby let out a long breath.

“Good. Sam-“

“Coming.” Sam threw Dean a what the fuck is happening look over his shoulder, followed Bobby out of the kitchen, and Dean was left alone with Her.

She didn’t wake up. In the long moments where it was only Her and Dean in the whole world once more, She didn’t stir for even a second. Her breathing grew more and more even with every passing moment, but She didn’t open those brilliant eyes and look at Dean.

Dean didn’t know if She would ever really look at him again. 

She didn’t hate him.

She’d been keeping secrets—so many fucking secrets—but She didn’t hate Dean, and when he allowed his hand to trace over Her cheekbone, she leaned into the touch.

Maybe She would leaned into anyone’s touch, but she wasn’t. Right now, She was leaning into Dean’s. 

He let his hand linger there as long as he could. She was warm, too warm, almost burning, but it was better than Her being cold. Color was returning to Her face, and there was a heavy flush over her pretty cheeks, but it was better than nothing. No color. No slightly uneven breaths or dried sweat on her brow.

Dean finally got to brush the hair away, and he wasn’t sure how She only got prettier. She was pretty in a way Dean never really cared for before her. She looked like a bird. Untouchable and free and delicate. Breakable, but not because She was weak. Because She wasn’t supposed to be on the earth like this, just how Dean wouldn’t be free or light enough to go where she went. 

Because even if this was Her life—even if she wasn’t spoiled and born from comfort Dean would never know—he still couldn’t have Her. If anything this just made that more certain. That She was so good and unnaturally better, that She’d been living down in the mud with Dean this whole time and he’d still been blinded. If She ever managed to crawl out of here, She might become ethereal. Glorious. Brighter than the sun and more heavenly than a paradise Dean didn’t believe in.

And if Bobby really raised Her, everything Dean tried to loathe about Her would probably vanish into the air. Bobby was smart. And good. And didn’t like pointless shit, so there was no way he’d let Her become spoiled or entitled. She wasn’t spoiled or entitled. 

She was just awesome. 

And Dean didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to live with that now. That he’d bitten Her, and the mark was festering in him.

She let out a soft breath when Dean thumb stroked down Her nose, the movement subconscious, almost automatic. 

He had to yank his hand away the floor creaked, and Bobby turned the corner only a second later.

They didn’t speak at Bobby hauled Her up and carried Her away. Dean wanted to go with Her. He needed to go with Her. He needed to have Her look at him one last time, and he needed to work out how to apologize in a way that didn’t make him sound like a little bitch, and-

“Dean.” Sam leaned into the kitchen, tilting his head back to the living room. “C’mon, dude, Bobby said we could get three questions.”

“Three?” Dean frowned, glancing past Sam to where they’d vanished up the stairs. “We only get three-“

“Between us.” Sam sighed. “And he, uh, I think he might be pissed at us.”

A door slammed upstairs, and Dean raised his brows. “You think?”

“You two.” Bobby appeared behind Sam—for a fairly big dude, he could move faster than thought he had any real right to—and pointed between them with a glower. “Sit. Now.”

Sam shot Dean a worried look and shuffled to the table, tugging Dean into a seat as Bobby stood before them, arms cross and eyes narrowed. 

“What the hell did you idjit’s say to her?”

Sam blinked. “We didn’t- I mean, I didn’t say anything-“

“Hey!” Dean shot him a glare. “Dude, what the hell-“

“I can’t speak for you, Dean! I mean, you guys are a lot closer-“

Bobby’s glare turned to Dean—the feeling of it searing through his skin—and Sam was now getting punched, kicked, and body slammed.

“Sammy.” He hissed, bracing a fist on the table. “Shut your fuckin’ face-“

“How close would you say you two are, Dean?” 

Bobby’s question didn’t need to have that silent, underlying threat for Dean to flinch. It was already a question he didn’t know the answer to. She lied and he sucked ass, but She also liked him—enough that he’d been allowed to hunt with Her at all, enough for her to slur it to Sammy in the car—and he couldn’t stop thinking about Her if he tired. 

And he had tried.

And he’d never really seen Her interact with people except for Sam and Dad. And She and Dad clashed, but She and Sam got along, and Bobby obviously cared for her so maybe her liking Dean wasn’t all that special-

“Dean.” Bobby snapped. “Answer my question.”

“I, uh, I don’t-“

“Sam?”

“They’re just friends.” Sam shrugged, saying Her name in a voice that wasn’t nearly reverent enough. “From the hunting.”

Sam was back down to being kicked and punched, because the little shit could’ve easily laughed and said that Dean had a crush on Her—he didn’t, She was just his best friend and the only person he liked to hang out with—but that would’ve probably made everything worse. Especially given Bobby didn’t seem all that happy with the just friends answer either.

“How many years you two been huntin’, exactly

“Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s been like two- But that,” Dean pointed up the stairs. “Hasn’t happened before, Bobby, I swear-“

“I don’t give a shit about that.” Bobby snapped, jerking his head back. “You boys did the smart thing, for once in your damn lives, and listened to her. Brought her here.”

“If you don’t-“ Sam frowned, his face returned to pure confusion. “If you don’t care that she got stabbed-“

“No, Sam, I care that she got stabbed.” Bobby let out a long, breath, shaking his head. “I don’t give a shit that it happened with you two. If she’s gotta get stabbed, I’m happy she ain’t alone to try and stitch herself up, cause that girl ain’t good at takin’ care of herself in way that matters.”

It was Dean turn to frown, sitting a little straighter in his chair. “What do you mean, she can take care of herself-“

Bobby scoffed. “She can do her hair, Dean. She ain’t gonna do stitches.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Has she never done stitches on herself?”

��Not good ones-“ Bobby cut himself off with a glare between them. “This ain’t the point. What’d you do, Dean.”

Bobby and Sam were both looking at Dean, and he groaned. 

“I didn’t do anything, Bobby, and if you’re not pissed about her getting hurt-“

“Some injuries ain’t on the surface, boy. I could give a flyin’ fuck about what danger she puts herself in, I know she can handle it better than you two dumbasses, but if you hurt that girl, I ain’t gonna stop her hurtin’ you.” Bobby sighed, running a hand over his face, and Sam cleared his throat.

“Bobby, how, um-“ He glanced to Dean, expression nervous. “You said she’s- I still don’t understand-“

“Sam, if you got somethin’ to say-“

“How do you know her?” Sam’s words were quick and frantic. “That’s- you said we get three questions, and that’s our first.”

They hadn’t actually discussed the questions, but Dean could live with that one. Shit, he’d spent the whole day trying to work that one out himself, and Bobby seemed to know it had been coming, because he dropped in a seat across the table with a long sigh. 

“It ain’t my place to tell you everythin’,” he muttered. “All I can tell you two is that I met her when she was a kid-“

Sam opened his mouth, and promptly shut it as Bobby shot him a glare.

“You ask that question, Sam, I’m countin’ it. She was eight, I found her wanderin’, I took her in. Kept her from killing herself, raised her like the daughter I didn’t get before. Which,” Bobby turned to Dean, and it wasn’t fair that he was being singled out. Sammy was here too, hell, he’d asked the question- “She may not be my blood, but she’s the closest thing I got. Understood?”

Sam mumbled an agreement, but those words weren’t for Sam.

So Dean nodded, and hoped Bobby could see all over his face that he really just wanted to go upstairs and check on her. He’d do that after, if he could get away with it. And She was probably fine—Bobby wouldn’t have left her if she wasn’t—but Dean needed to see it. With his own freakin’ eyes, making sure she was comfortable, and relaxed, and peacefully asleep-

“What’s up with those, uh- the-“ Sam swallowed. “Those weird episodes?”

Bobby’s eyes narrowed. “Episodes?”

“When she likes, freaks out and shit. I mean, is it like a really bad panic attack?”

Sam was back to getting punched, kicked, and body slammed. That wasn’t their thing to tell Bobby about. Bobby might know more about Her past, but he obviously hadn’t known that they’d been hunting together, which meant there might be other shit She didn’t want to tell him. Other shit She’d trusted them—trusted Dean—to see, that Sam had just fucking told Bobby-

“Those aren’t panic attacks.”

Sam frowned. “Then what-“

“Not my place.” Bobby said, his tone making it clear that was final. “I know what they are, so does she, and if- It’s up to her what you know. She’ll tell you if she wants, but she’s had a rough time, Sam. So don’t go pushin’ her about it.”

Sam nodded, even as the nervous expression remained on his face, and Dean cleared his throat. He had to ask. Even if all he got from Bobby was a not my place, Dean just needed to spit it out and ask.

“Why’d you… I mean, how did we never know, Bobby?” Dean held Bobby’s gaze, every word slow and careful. “You said she was eight, Sammy would’ve been seven, so we knew you by then. Shit, we were here all the time but never even heard her name. I don’t- Why?”

Bobby let out a long breath, shaking his head slowly. “It’s complicated.”

Dean scowled. He was really starting to fucking hate that word.

“But,” Bobby pushed on, giving Dean a firm, solemn look. “I wasn’t ‘cause of you boys. I said it already, I ain’t gonna tell you what’s not mine to tell, but I never liked keepin’ you apart.”

“But you did.” Dean grunted, and Bobby sighed.

“Yeah, I did. And I’m not gonna tell you I had reasons, cause that’s fuckin’ bullshit help and we know it, but I will say it was all I could do. Not for the best, but the only damn option.” 

Dean was pretty sure he was telling the truth. It wasn’t the same alarm he’d learned to set off with her, but it was close. That seemed to be the truth. 

Dean wished it wasn’t. 

“She said she was sick.” Sam muttered. “When she was a kid. And that’s why we couldn’t know each other.”

Bobby let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Course she did. Sick is one way of puttin’ it. I-“ Bobby looked between Sam and Dean, something weighted behind his eyes. “There were times when she could’ve used you two. Glad she seems to have you now. And I don’t know where your Daddy is, but-“

“He’s hunting a demon.” Sam said, and Dean was out of ways to kick his ass for saying stuff. “The one that killed our mom.”

Bobby’s eyes widened, and the conversation moved on. Bobby asked if She and Dad had crossed paths, Dean told him not for years, and Bobby and Sam started to talk demon. Bobby had books Sam could read. Sam had questions about what Bobby had run into, with his own wife. 

She’d told Dean Her dad’s wife died.

Fucking hell.

Eventually, Bobby went out. They’d stayed at the table as Sam and Bobby descended into nerd talk—mostly just Sammy being a little dweeb, Bobby was just smart—and Dean had spent the hours stealing glances up the stairs and wondering how he could get up there. How he could see Her, check on her, without Bobby getting on his ass and shouting about Dean being careful with Her, because he always was-

Except when he wasn’t. Expect when he poison and ruined and wrecked Her in a way he’d never wanted to. When he made Her sad or hollow, put Her in danger, showed her exactly why Dad had been right, that they shouldn’t be close to each other. 

Dad had just gotten the wrong reason. Dean shouldn’t be near Her. She was annoying, and stubborn, and reckless, and a know-it-all, and kinda mean, but in a hot way. She was bossy, but it was adorable. She’d snap and taunt Dean, but she never did it in a way that left a mark. Dean always left a mark. And invisible bruise or scar that Bobby must have seen somehow. It must have been why he was so automatically pissed, why he’d accused Dean of hurting Her.

And he had.

So he didn’t deserve to go up those stairs and see Her.

But he was still selfish. And he still didn’t know when to stop.

Bobby muttered that he was going off to get food. The he hadn’t been expecting Her back for a while, let alone Sam and Dean with her, so all he had was canned food that tasted like pig-shit and a half-eaten chocolate cake in the fridge. 

Sam grabbed the tiniest, most bitch-baby piece of chocolate cake with a mutter of long week, and moved to settle in library. 

Dean started to snoop.

It was so plainly obvious She belonged here. Just like with Her mannerisms—seeing Bobby all over them once Dean squinted—all it took was one quick scan of the kitchen to see more places She’d probably been before. Not just grenadine, but a box of cheesy kids snacks in the back of the pantry. Dean had always assumed Bobby had gotten them for him and Sammy, then never thrown them out. But he’d seen Her buy those exact snacks countless times, and a few of the boxes looked practically unopened. 

In the living room there were all those books and movies, and a blanket that was far too fuzzy for Bobby to like. A pair of women’s sneakers and boots near the door. A glittery toothbrush on the bathroom sink, some of that sugar-smelling shit Dean knew she used under the skin, and fancy shampoo in the cabinets.

Dean had seen some of this stuff before, but he’d always assumed Bobby just had a lady-friend. A weird, sparkly lady friend who wrote notes on the margins of some of the lore books in that same language from before. From Her notebook. In Her handwriting. 

Lady friends didn’t use a towel—carefully tucked and folded in a closet—that had a little princess stitched onto the corner. Lady friends didn’t watching animated children’s movies so much that, when Dean open the case, the tape looked well-worn and used.

And lady friends didn’t draw with crayon. 

But in Dean’s defense, he’d never seen the drawings before. That was part of the snooping. Shifting casually through Bobby’s desk for more evidence, and coming out clutching old, well-worn drawings of colors. A lot of colors. Most of the drawings seemed to be odd shapes and patterns, all in bright colors.

There were a few more, where the drawings were red and black and yellow, with sharp lines and jagged symbols that resembled Her strange writing. Those symbols were repetitive. 

Briefly, Dean had an image in his head of a smaller Her, holding a crayon and sitting on the floor of Bobby’s living room, scrawling those symbols over and over until Bobby took the paper from Her. She had braids in that vision. Oddly complex braids that Her small, swollen fingers couldn’t have done. 

But Bobby could’ve. And now Dean could see that same small version of Her on the couch, humming to herself as she read a book that looked far too big in tiny hands, while Bobby braided her hair with a scowl. 

Dean blinked, and returned the papers back to the drawer. He was about to close it when something shifted in the very back, and a last drawing caught his eye. 

It had been separated from the others, and drawn on black construction paper. Tucked into a book and folded carefully. And it was the only one where Dean could tell what the hell it was.

A stick drawing—round body and tiny arms and legs—of a man with a thick blue line on his head and scratches of brown on his face, holding the hand of a girl. Same eyes and hair as Her.

She’d drawn this one too. Of Her and Bobby. 

She’d used a light green for Bobby’s skin, though. And a metallic silver for Her own. And the grass was golden and the clouds were red and the sun was white. It was really fucking weird. 

Dean chalked it up to the creative liberties of an eight-year-old, and carefully returned the drawing to its place before sneaking up the stairs. 

He needed to see Her. 

It took him a minute to find Her room, because up until yesterday, he’d thought he knew all the rooms in Bobby’s house. Kitchen, library, living room, bathrooms, and guest rooms. The only room he’d never been in was on the third floor, because Bobby said that room was off limits, and-

Son of a bitch. 

He’d always assumed that was Bobby’s room. That Bobby just didn’t want to little boys snooping around and finding his private shit. Dean had imagined that the room would have a wooden-poster bed, dresser, chairs, and simple decorations. Not all that lived in, because Bobby was practical, and knew that in this life getting attached to a lot of personal possessions was pointless. 

This room was lived in.

By Her.

Those were books Dean had seen Her grab from public libraries, or exact copies that She’d pulled from her bag. CDs of albums he’d known She liked, plus a few he hadn’t. A few Dean liked, scattered on the dresser next to a book he’d seen Her read, sunglasses he’d seen Her use, and a shirt that he’d never seen Her wear.

It was monotone black, and not Her style or size, and looked like a men’s shirt. 

The was a bitter, hot pang in Dean’s intestine and along his heart chamber, because why would She have a men’s shirt. If the overflowing dresser was any indication, She certainly didn’t need more shirts, and it certainly wasn’t Bobby’s, so it all together meant that was the shirt of someone who had given it to her. And she’d kept it, because it looked clean, and Bobby had said he hadn’t expected her back, so it had been there for a while, and who the fuck was giving Her a shirt-

She shifted on the bed, and Dean’s head turned without his permission to look at Her. He’d been trying not to. Gun pressed to his temple, he’d swear he’d tried so fucking hard not to watch Her sleep like a pervert creep. But Her siren-like voice made a small sound, and this room was drowning in that fruit smell, and Dean couldn’t fucking help himself. 

It took him a second to find Her. She’d burrowed herself under the covers, the only parts of Her that were visible being a single hand falling over the mattress and Her gorgeous face smushed against the pillows.

Her bed was shockingly normal. This whole bedroom was shockingly normal. She had curtains and a nice carpet, a desk and chair, a large amount of blankets and a hamper and a cork board on the wall. Pinned with notes that were in English—Dean could read those, and they mostly seemed to list new monsters and reminders for hunts—and a few more in that odd language. The walls were painted a dark color, and it made the room feel smaller. Safer. Like this was the only place in the world.

It might as well be.

Dean dragged a chair to sit at the side of the bed, because that felt less creepy than standing over Her as she slept. For a long while he only watched Her sleep peacefully. Softly.

Then Her brow wrinkled, and Dean’s hand moved without thought. Petting over Her nose until she relaxed, and made a soft noise that kicked him right in the heart and reverberated over his ribs.

He let out a long breath, and started speaking in his lowest, quietest voice. Before he could think better.

“You… you got a lot of explaining to do, Princess.” He muttered. “Bobby handled some of it, but he also won’t tell Sammy and I jackshit that matters until you give the go ahead. So you gotta wake up and do that. Plus, I want to call you a fucking idiot for hiding something so freakin’ dumb from me, and I can’t do that while you’re knocked out. So… Wake up. Soon. Get better and wake up soon and I’ll be waiting, because I- I’m just gonna stay a while. ‘Least until you give me some god damn answers. And,” he let out a long breath. She couldn’t hear him. He was allowed to say it, when no one at all could hear him. “I don’t want to leave. I like you, Princess, and if you really don’t hate me, I’ll stick around.”

He had more to say.

But She hummed like she could hear him, rolled a little closer to the edge of the bed, and none of it really seemed that important anymore.

Her fingers flexed. She didn’t hate him. 

Dean took Her hand, and he fell asleep at Her side because he never learned, and really didn’t want to.

And when Sammy woke him up, saying Dad needed them for something back in Colorado. That he’d called Dean but he hadn’t picked up—his phone was in his jacket downstairs—so he’d called Sam instead. 

Sam had said they were on their way, and told Bobby they were heading out. That they’d let Bobby know how it went, and hopefully be back with good news about the son of a bitch who killed Mom rotting in whatever was lower than hell. Sam hadn’t mentioned Her.

And Dean had to go, but She was still asleep. He needed to go, because Dad wanted him there, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to stay here, in Her small room that was he could sink down into if he tried.

But he had to go. 

He wanted to leave Her something. To promise in silent words that could be right to not hate him. That he’d really like Her to keep not hating him. But he didn’t have much. He had his car, and his jacket, and ring-

He set his ring on Her dresser. He’d come back. He didn’t know how not to come back, and hopefully when he did, She’d still like him. At the very least, She wouldn’t have started to hate him. 

Because Dean knew at this point that there was no way in hell She felt the pull. He also knew that he’d still follow Her all the way down, and up, and just here. 

Dean might just like being with Her anywhere.

And She didn’t hate him.

So he’d press a soft, dangerous kiss to Her brow because he couldn’t help himself, and look back because he had to, and come back because he wanted to. 

He’d come back. 

End Note: One of the glorious things about nearing the end of the season 1 arc is all of us knowing what happens at the end of the season 1 arc.

Also, as we hit 100k words, I'm unspeakably grateful for the support of the story!!! I can't say it enough, thank you so so much for reading!! I hope y'all continue to enjoy the story!

Thank you so so so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[ostolero]

Mirroring Sheev's Plan by Sullivan

Performed by Austin Walker on AMCA

(originally posted on Cohost)

https://bsky.app/profile/dimosar.bsky.social

https://bsky.app/profile/austinwalker.bsky.social

https://bsky.app/profile/morecivilized.bsky.social

Sheev's Plan:

get elected to senate for naboo

start new sith order

work republic and separatists against each other. recruit evil guy to lead separatists.

(this jedi kid is wicked strong!)

get jedi in deep with clone army. (save some clone jars for later? just in case...)

PIVOT: Make the jedi kid evil. dont need separatist guy anymore. got a new evil guy.

make my evil guy kill his jedi pals when they come to arrest me. ill finish em off with my lightning attack

(fucking guy used his sword to bounce my lightning back at me! honestly my fault. takes a minute for the lightning to wind down and he got my ass on the bounce. fair play. now i look like a leather couch but its fine. can blame jedi for THAT too)

Use the clones to kill the jedi, have my evil guy kill the seperatists, keep the army, spin into empire

GALAXY NOW UNDER MY CONTROL

chill as emperor for a while. humiliate Vader for a laugh. make death star.

Endgame achieved.

(Vader's kid blows up my death star)

PIVOT: get new young apprentice by turning him evil once he kills his dad, or maybe make Vader cooler by making him kill his gay son. either way its a win-win for me.

(thrown down hole and killed.)

PIVOT: good thing i kept those clone jars!! make new clone body to inhabit. takes time to get right. need something to do until then

build enormous fleet of big spaceships, each with their own super death star laser. keep em on the down low... why use em? they lose half the value as soon as you fly them off the lot

(clone son betrays me but its no biggie. its fine. have loads of clones at this point. whats one clone son?)

create a DECOY fascist empire. put one of my weirder clones in charge. Not giving them any of my ships though. can build his own shit. dont look at me. get a bank loan

let failed clone recruit vaders grandson (will explain why later) let those guys take over the galaxy with a different super death star. assume they built this one themselves. very cute!

GALAXY NOW UNDER MY CONTROL

(only via proxy tho. not done yet)

let(??) vaders grandson ("ben"?? ok) usurp failed clone and rule galaxy. wants to “kill the past” but whatever. can still make this work. NEED to keep this kid in the mix (will make sense when we get there)

drop the big news. Im not dead! Fortnite. awesome moment.

lead kylo ren to my base using complex scavenger hunt. puzzle knife.

tell him he’s always actually worked for me. big reveal. big moment. He's my lackey now. a little traitorous and unreliable, but this will pay off later trust me

use death star ships to take over galaxy even more

GALAXY NOW UNDER MY CONTROL

(awesome... but not enough. something missing)

let kylo ren lead clone granddaughter to home base using complex scavenger hunt. Puzzle Knife cool enough idea to do twice i think

taunt granddaughter into killing me so i can possess her un-janked body. All part of my grand scheme...

Endgame achieved. (??)

(kylo ren betrays me)

PIVOT: Possession stupid plan anyway. Instead, use ben and reys Horny Essence to make my nasty old body normal again.

throw ben in hole (grandson purpose revealed)

destroy resistance with lightning powers. shooting spaceships down with magic lightning basically a solved problem at this point.

GALAXY NOW UNDER MY CONTROL

kill the granddaughter actually. dont need her anymore. lightning powers classic for a reason.

ive got this thing in the bag as long as she doesn't bounce the lightning back at me off her fucking laser sword.

Endgame achieved.

[jinuaei]

I can offer you an idea of ​​yandere alastor.. What would it be like if alastor as a child knew the reader... Like I imagine alastor as a child not knowing how to act properly like a human, and the reader as a good best friend helping him seems more human (and not because the child reader is scared of him) ... Actually, what would happen?

Wrote this instead of working on my finals hope you enjoyed it!

Yandere! Alastor x Childhood friend! Reader

Warning: Animal death, blood, its YANDERE

WC: ~1.5k

Charlie dragged the whole hotel for another ‘trust’ session, this time, she had the great idea for the sinners to share stories from when they were alive. Granted, some of them were eager to share, namely Nifty and Angel Dust, Husk would share some here or there, although it's mostly due to Charlie and Angel pushing him to. Alastor on the other hand kept quiet during the whole ordeal, until the topic of childhood friends came up.

“I had a childhood friend once, such a sweetheart. Wouldn't leave me alone to play with others!,” Alastor let the statement linger in the air, casually sipping on his coffee. 

The other members of the Hotel look aat him with mouths agape, shocked and surprised at the fact that THE Alastor, Radio Demon, Dealmaker, HAD FRIENDS? Moreover, a childhood friend?? Someone stayed friends with him since they were children???

“Don't look at me like I am incapable of having proper friendships, and no, you cannot ask them about me as a child because they're simply not a sinner! Oh imagine my disappointment when I didn't find them down here,” his eyes glazed over in slight rage as he thought about how you weren't here.

Very disappointing that I will never be able to hold my beloved again. What I would do to be able to chain them to my side once more…

“Well don't leave us hangin’, whose this sweetheart of you’s?,” the white spider interjected.

He tells them your name, sighing dreamily as he starts to reminisce about the times you were together when you were children.

You were the child of one of his momma's clients, a bubbly little thing, always eager to play with him regardless of how cold he is to you. 

His momma was your family's personal tailor, and by God were you a spoiled little thing. Every week you would ask for 2-3 outfits to be created for you, although it looked more like costumes than everyday wear but he doesn't complain, as long as your family treated him and his momma with respect.

Nonetheless, he refuses to be close to you, considering you as a bother, but of course, he would never admit that to you, lest he wants his momma to get in trouble. 

He hasn't always looked forward to when his momma brings him to your house, namely due to you clinging to him every time you meet. There's one thing in your mansion that he’s quite fond of though, once he manages to escape from your grasp, he sneaks into the woods behind your house, gazing at all the wildlife roaming around your property.

One time, he found an injured bird crying close to him, it tried to get away from him but he eventually caught it in a tight grip, it chirped and cried but Alastor just gripped tighter and tighter until, pop! 

Blood trailed down his hands and onto the forest floor below, unbeknownst to him, he had a huge grin on his face, too pleased with the mutilation of the poor bird. A gasp resonates behind him and he quickly drops the bird, face stilling at the fact that he got caught.

When he turned his body to you, your eyes were full of tears staring at his hands that he didn't bother to hide. He prepared himself to hunt you down to make sure you wouldn't tattle on his momma but your next words made him stop in place.

“Are you okay???” you rushed to his side, pulling out a handkerchief and started to wipe off the blood coating his stained hand.

In response, the child looked at you aghast, stupefied at the concern you were showing, marking yourself vulnerable to the predator towering over your much shorter build. He could kill you if he could, he can lie and tell your parents that a bear found both of you and killed you, that he tried to save you but was unable to. But then again… as you fret over him, a thought passes through his mind. 

You are too kind for your own good, just like momma. Don't worry I’ll protect you.

Alastor raises the now somewhat clean hand, and he notes how you didn't even flinch at it, and just looked at him with your wide, innocent eyes. The hand lowers to pat you on the head, ruffling your hair a little bit.

“I am fine, I tried to save a bird but it was too hurt to be saved,” he shows off the bird, face devoid of any emotions.

You frowned at it and suddenly went on your knees and started digging a grave with your hands.

Alastor furrowed his eyebrows and questioned what you were doing, you responded with, “I’m digging a grave for the birdie, I don't want them to die without a proper burial.”

The boy helped you after a few moments of silence. Once you were done, you clasped your hands together, covered in dirt and blood,  silently looking at him to do the same. Look at you, as a child of a rich man you shouldn't be on your knees covering yourself in filth, but perhaps he should indulge his angel for a little bit. 

As you started praying he couldn't help but let the bitterness consume his mind. God wouldn't care about frivolous things like this, prayers do nothing, if it did, how come he and his momma are still at the mercy of that monster of a man he calls his father?

“Amen.”

You offer your filthy hand to him, gazing at him with a smile that could rival the sun. Perhaps the only good thing that God has done, is sending down an angel for him to play with.

“You should smile more, you look very pretty,” he raises an eyebrow at that, startled by your bluntness. Admittedly, he can feel himself flush at your compliment.

“Do you like it when I smile?” he hums, taking your hand. Both of you started to walk back to your manor.

“I do! Mommy always said ‘you’re never fully dressed without a smile’ and that's why I always smile!”

“Then I'll smile a lot for you,” he tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

“You're doing it wrong! It's like this,” you show off your smile, toothy and wide.

He tries again and ultimately fails, you pout at him cutely when he failed, and he couldn't help but smile, genuinely smile at that. In response you shout out ‘like that!’, and start vibrating in excitement that you managed to make him smile.

It was almost nightfall when you eventually managed to get home safely, albeit covered in dirt and grime. What greeted you both were your father, stressed beyond belief, and his mother, on the verge of tears. They both rushed to you guys and hugged the both of you, fretting and scolding at how worried they are, they asked you and Alastor what happened and you, being the loudmouth you are, told them the story that you know.

Both adults are relieved to hear that you both are safe, they rushed you to clean yourselves up. Ever since then, Alastor has been looking forward to every visit they had to your house. And every single visit has been a learning moment for him, day by day he learns what you like and what you don't like. 

You like gentlemen? The next time you meet, he offers you his arm to hold. Do you like poetry? He memorizes your favourite poems to recite whenever you're bored. Do you like food and cooking? He begs his momma to teach him her infamous Jambalaya and other comfort foods to cook for you.

Alastor molded himself to become your ideal man, the most perfect gentleman that ever existed in your life. But then…

“Then what...? But then what??” Angel exclaimed when Alastor trailed off with a cliffhanger. Everyone leaned towards him, captivated by the story he shared. He smiles cryptically, but still doesn't respond.

“Oh well, it seems like it's almost supper time, I should work on it, wouldn't want to be late for dinner hmm?”

Everyone collectively groaned at the cliffhanger, they wanted to know what happened after, but they couldn't complain much lest they want to be part of Alastor's radio broadcast.

Alastor turns away from them, humming to himself as he walks towards where the kitchen is.

But then you had to die as a saint. You had to marry that disgusting excuse of a man you called your husband, and now he killed you. My beloved, was I not enough? Was I not perfect for you? You would have been safe if you were with me… Don't worry, I made sure that ‘husband’ of yours regretted ever hurting you. May this be an offering to my angel.

A haunting scream pierces through hell, amplified by the speakers scattered around the pride ring.

Support me here so I would be more likely to write more fics 🤭

[lady-ashfade]

Please do a alicent hightower x rhaenrya targayren twin brother who she marries and become princess consort. Alicent want him to herself ,so she tries break relationship with the male oc and rhanearya.

Manipulation

Yandere!Alicent Hightower x Male!Reader

I made this last night very late, the sun rising. But I just now reread it and idk if you meant rhaenrya marrying the reader or Alicent. But I made this think Alicent married the reader because that’s what I did all the way through until I went back to edit it. I apologize but I still hope you like it!

Warnings: Yandere tactics, manipulation, obsession, stalking, one mention of something gory.

Readers very existence changed everything about what happened, there would be no war. Do to the reader being the first born son, raised along side rhaenrya he would be it’s rightful hair.

Aemma was proud to have birthed a son for Viserys and a beautiful daughter. She loved her children and always kept a close eye on them, them both being strong headed.

Viserys loved both of them equally. But most of his time was filled with teaching y/n how to be a man and one day a king. From the age of three he took y/n with him on hunts, a memory he cherishes deeply. Rhaenrya was with her mother and was the talk of all the ladies as they gushed over her Beauty.

This being said rhaenrya was raised to believe in her brother who she loved to death. He was her twin and the gods created them together to be in this world. So as time went on she did not resent her brother because she did not feel like she was being replaced for a male heir.

Alicent knew y/n for a short time while she was by the young princess side. Y/n loved to play with rhaenrya and in his free time spent most of it with her. Alicent, being her best friend, was there a lot. He was charming and even though he was younger she never failed to blush when he would comment her. He was a gentleman, his mother and father made sure of it. But y/n never really payed that much attention because he was talking with his sister.

A feeling started to fill her mind of wanting his attention to on her so she started to speak up more. She’d dropped somethings and the reader would help, or get close to him and say something. Her crush got deeper and within a year after realizing, she had fallen deeply in love with the prince. Her attitude started to change when he was around and become all about him. Butting in on conversations, grabbing his arms slightly.

Things took a change when the prince was sent to study in Pentos and around the world to become a better king. Alicent was heartbroken over this news and she cried for days. She never was the same again. After two years her obsession slowly faded but she always seemed to think of him when she got lost in thought. His laugh, the way he made her smile and feel.

Rhaenrya looked passed her obsession for a small crush and did not blame Alicent back then since they were children. Her brother was a handsome boy and she couldn’t blame alicent. Tho, she did like to tease her friend sometimes.

Alicent and Rhaenrya sat together while Alicent read to her. They laughed and tried to get by with rhaenryas consent bickering and pokes of fun. But the city rang of a dragons roar and a deep one at that, their eyes looked up and saw a black dragon with spikes fly above them and casted a shadow down.

Rhaenrya hops up with a huge smile and a laugh, “He’s back.” She shot up and ran off without another word. Alicent was panicking to grab all the stuff she had brought and follow the princess. As she ran her chest filled with butterflies and her mind flashing of images of the boy she remembers. He was still young but could he have grown a beard? How tall was he now? Would he remember her, or better yet, would he be kind to her? She felt sick but her feet ran faster to see her prince.

When they got outside to the dragon pits she placed the books on the ground and grabbed ahold of rhaenrya in excitement. They watch his dragon land and the ground shake below their feet. The beasts mouth opened and screamed at the top of its lungs, a faint male voice shouting. Y/n petted his dragon and spoke to it and laughed. Everyone saw their prince stepping off his dragon and he looked different. His pale skin and freshly cut silky white hair, his frame grown and more muscly toned.

“Quite the entrance brother. Always loved attention.” Rhaenrya pulled away from Alicent and walked towards her brother with a fake face. The boy turned with a smiled while taking off his gloves, “And you dear sister, being betrothed to Lord Strong? Quite a lovely tale.” He smirked as they stood a few steps away from each other.

Rhaenrya broke and leaped towards her brother and hugged him close, his arms wrapping around her and lifting her up. The two laughed in joy to be reunited together again after years. The hug lasted a few seconds before he placed her back on the ground but still holding onto each other. “We must see mother and father at once.” Rhaenrya smiled and tugged him backward with her.

“I’m sure they eagerly await your return.” A new voice pulled the twins apart and around. Y/n took a moment and his breath hitch’s as a bigger smile popped onto his face. Alicent Hightower, the girl who always was kindhearted and soft. It seems her beauty grew with age. She was once’s one of the most beautiful girl he has ever seen but now he is not sure she could be topped in rank.

“Alice Hightower?” He let go of rhaenrya and walked closer and the brunette bowed her head down in respected. “It seems you both grew into beautiful woman, how jealous the other ladies must be.” Her cheeks flushed and the pressure in her chest she felt all those years ago returned. But harder then before. Rhaenrya rolled her eyes at his comment and pulled his arm. “Mother will not like you taking long to see her. Neither father really.” Alicent watched his attention go back to rhaenrya and she felt anger.

Alicent from there got his attention anyway she could. Learning his schedule and always “Bumping” into him at times. Or how she’d dress in prettier dresses to show herself off. Y/n found his alone night walks to never be alone with the hands daughter following him everywhere.

Otto did the same thing he did to Viserys and pushed his daughter into y/n. But Alicent was already doing it by herself and had no problem. Slowly otto got into the kings mind of marrying the two.

“Any girl peak your interest my boy?” Viserys asked while they chatted in the kings chamber. “Have you already picked a woman for me?” His father only smiled and patted his back and took the figure from his sons hands and placed it back down. “You are the future king but my son, I want you to find a match like I did with your mother.” Y/n smiled and looked back down. “There is this one girl…” Viserys cheered and shook his sons shoulders more.

“Is it the Lady Alicent?” The boys head shot up and looked surprised to hear her name. “I see the way you look at her, or the way she looks at you.”

“She’s kind, will make a loving queen.”

Alicent was surprised when one day the reader asks her to take a walk with him in the garden without rhaenrya. But she didn’t hesitated to take his arms and walk with him. The reader was sweet when he asked her to marry him and had a fresh flowers picked just for her. He said she did not have to marry him if did not want but the thought didn’t even cross her mind.

After the betrothal she started to pull the reader away from everyone to keep him to herself. Especially rhaenrya. The thought of having to share her darling made her fingers dug into her skin at the thought. The reader was hers, only hers.

Alicent didn’t even want the reader be around his family at the wedding. Rhaenrya couldn’t even ask for a dance without Alicent pulling him on the dance floor by herself.

The castle saw less and less of him because if he wasn’t studying or with the king, then he was with Alicent. Aemma got to see her son if he had time but rhaenrya was out of the question. The dinner table was awkward with tension between the girls. If rhaenrya was around then Alicent would be right at the readers side.

Reader is so blind to see what’s happening. Alicent is good at playing the innocent girl so he suspects nothing of her manipulating tactics. She is his wife and he needs to care and love her, plus he is very busy with heir things so it is no one’s fault he doesn’t get to see his family anymore.

But does shit get worse she Alicent announces she is pregnant. You think her possessiveness is bad before then this is like hell. You study with in your chamber at the table while Alicent relaxes and reads. She wished for this child since you came back so she loved it dearly, even happy about it as she rubs her belly and whispers. “You are a gift of our love, he has given you to me.”

You love your wife dearly so you do anything you can to make this easy for her. Until the death of your mother happens. She was pregnant again, surprising everyone after years of no children being born. But sadly died in childhood birth along with your baby brother. Everything gets hard on you.

You sneak around to comfort your sister when Alicent thinks your out at the library, or your father when you can since you still see him a bit. Everything is hell and they all look for you but Alicent has you in her clutch.

I haven’t mentioned Daemon yet so here it is. Hates Alicent since he watched her flirt with you in the halls or at feast when you came back. Hates her so freaking much for stealing you away from your twin and even him, platonically. His anger gets more like rhaenrya when she kept you away from your family and took over your mind. Thinks she was a witch and put a spell on you, drugged you, or even threatened you if you did not love her. He constantly tries to get you away.

After months of mourning and your mental state being drained your body was restored by one second of seeing your son. He was so tiny and beautiful. He looked like you so much and you took him in your arms and cradled him. You cheered around the room that you had a son and praised your wife for her hard work. Making sure she had the best of medication and care after. Alicent loved that you focused on the babe while knowing it was a new way to keep you with her.

Aegon was his name, and he was raised by a loving father. Next, a daughter who you were very protective over with her strange like ways but loves her no less. Then your son aemond who couldn’t hatch a dragon egg but you held no grudge. You would tell him stories of how one day he will have a dragon and you will help him hunt it. Daeron your youngest who took mostly after you, his kindness and level head.

Your children grew to be just as protective of you as their mother and hated to let you go. Always kicking and screaming when you tried to leave and cry, they were slightly spoiled. But they followed you around like ducklings and the boys tried to act like you. Even watching you practice and copying your moves, walking even and everything about you. Rhaenrya had children and you wanted to be in their lives so you forced Alicent to have the children spend time with them. You missed your family and it was time to be together.

Oh, but did your kids hate rhaenryas kids- Well, Helaena and Daeron didn’t mind because she was sweet, and Daeron was off in old town. But Aemond and Aegon didn’t like their cousins every much. They hated when you gave them attention or trained them as well, so they’d trip the boys or do something to get your attention.

Rhaenrya tried to talk to Alicent about how she wished no harm to steal you away in hopes to calm her down. Maybe even hang out with you once and a while. But Alicent didn’t give up.

Not only did you have a yandere for a wife, but Yandere children as well who can manipulate you. You belonged to them and no one else.

Extra because why not:

The only way I see Rhaenrya trying to take back the throne is with Daemon in her ear. They see how Alicent has you in control and knows she could do anything. It wasn’t about you because if Alicent was never in the picture you would be a good king. But now Daemon thinks that Rhaenrya needs to have a claim to the throne as well.

Rhaenrya named her fourth child after the reader and Alicent gets pissed about it. Even asks/screams for her to change it because she had no right.

Aegon is different from the show and is more..Better? A loving parent can make all the difference so he turns out, kinda okay. Don’t get me wrong he’s still a dick but he’s better about it. But with the reader by his side actually trying to do good, Aegon wants to impress him and becomes a good man.

Aemond clings to y/n the most because he feels lesser then his siblings for the lack of a dragon which the reader never puts him down for. If the boys are teasing him all it takes is one word to dad and everything will be okay.

Helaena really loves her dad so much. He listens to her, reads to her or gets her bugs from around the world. Even asks her questions of what she is saying. Helaena feels a comfort in him unlike anyone else. She is a daddy’s girl for sure.