#this man ONLY requests to follow me while I’m at my parents’ house

[anonymolly]

the hot married coworker that I was work besties with at my last job (who maybe wanted to fuck me even though he was married) just requested to follow me on Instagram? we haven’t spoken since our last day of work back in June. I’m fully 🫨 while prepping the mashed potatoes for family Christmas dinner. lord give me the strength not to homewreck in the year 2025. I need all the good karma I can amass

[ghouljams]

Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?

Rating: E (MDNI) Words: ~11k Tags: Ghost x f!Reader, Dirtbag!Ghost, strangers -> ???, groping, non-con kissing, coerced consent, oral (F!Receiving), fingering, squirting, piv sex, kidnapping? Summary: A stranger online promises he'll make your parents' Christmas hell, and you're eager to take him up on the offer. You may have bitten off more than you can chew.

<Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?

[casual encounters]

“I am a 35 year old former SAS operator with no A levels, tattoos, and a motorcycle. I can play anywhere from 30 to 40 depending on if I shave. I’m a line cook and I work late nights at my mate’s bar. If you’d like to have me pretend to be in a long term serious relationship with you, to torment your family, I’m game.

I can do these things, at your request:

Openly hit on female guests while you act like you don’t notice

Start instigative discussions about religion and/or politics

Propose to you in front of everyone

Talk at length about my time in the army including what it felt like to kill a man(good or bad your choice)

Pretend to be really drunk as the evening goes on(don’t drink much these days, but I know the drill)

Start an actual, physical fight with a family member, either inside or on the front lawn for all the neighbors to see.

Only pay I want is the free meal and the entertainment.”

-do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers

*

RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?” 

To:SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From:URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Is this offer still open?

*

RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

From: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

Depends how far you want me to travel.

-S

*

RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Any chance you’re in the XXXXX area? I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk details.

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

From: SASRiley@xxxxxxx.xx

Close enough for a free meal. I’m in XXXX

-S

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Let’s meet at Gallery Eats. Also can you send me an ID or something so I know what you look like?

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

[attachment] [attachment]

Know you birds get jumpy, send it out to your little friends. 

Tuesday 15:30

See you there 

-S

*

He’s already at the shop when you get there, scrolling through his phone with his legs spread wide under the little wooden table, a full-face motorcycle helmet taking up more than half of the tiny tabletop.

You hadn’t realized how big the guy would be. Even sitting down he’s massive. You’d bet money he’s over six foot, and he easily eclipses the little cafe chair he’s settled in. His craigslist ad wasn’t lying when it said “tattoos.” The guy’s arms are covered in swirling black ink, and you follow the line of it up to the dark collar of his shirt where it peaks out to creep up his neck. He’s perfect. Your folks will hate him.

Dark eyes meet yours and a smirk creeps over his face, it tugs at a thin scar bisecting his lips.

He stands, and you bee-line for him.

“Thank god you look like your picture.” You huff, settling your bag on the chair across from him.

“That any way ta greet your man?” He grunts, holding a hand out. “Simon.”

You take his hand with a smile, and feel thick fingers wrap around your own. You glance down at the dark seal on the back of his hand, the carefully inked numbers already fading with age spelling out “141.” 

“So,” He smiles, leaning so far back in his seat that the chair tips, “How mad are we talkin’?”

*

It turns out Simon’s motorcycle isn’t his only mode of transportation. You roll up to your parents house in a half-wrapped muscle car that Simon claims he’s been “working on” and you can almost smell the distaste radiating off of your folks when they peak through the front window. Simon makes a big show of ignoring you while you try to get the oddly shaped Christmas gifts out of the trunk, lighting a cigarette and checking his phone while you struggle. Finally your parents decide to wander out onto their front step, and your father stalks over to take the bulkier gifts from you while Simon eyes him.

You grin at him, already pleased with his grumbling and glaring at Simon. Simon, for his part, offers a, “Sure it ain’t too heavy old man?” That makes a vein on your father’s temple throb angrily. He ambles after you and your father, and makes a show of giving your mom a once over.

“Sweetheart!” Your mother grimace-smiles at you, “Who is this?”

“This is Simon,” You sigh, leaning against Simon with a dopey smile, “My boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend.” Your mother grits her teeth, “You didn’t say you were bringing a guest.”

“Oh I know, but you can pull up a chair, right?” You gasp, “We’re not messing up your table are we?”

Your mother’s eye twitches. You know her well enough to know she’s already thinking about people bumping elbows at an overcrowded table. You can almost hear your little cousins complain about the lack of space. You also know she’ll never admit her annoyance in front of a guest.

“Of course not.” She smiles tightly, “The more the merrier.” She turns to Simon. “It’s nice to meet you Simon.”

Simon finally takes his cue, tossing his ashy cigarette onto the stone walkway with a flick of his fingers. He exhales nearly into your mother’s face before seemingly remembering last minute that, that’s rude.

“Nice to meet you,” His eyes flick down to your mother’s chest, “Can see where the bird gets ‘er tits from.”

You could scream with laughter the way your mother’s lips tighten into a thin line and her brows twitch down ever so slightly, the picture of barely contained shock and disgust. You can feel your father fuming on the other side of you.

“Why don’t we put presents down?” You chirp, trying to play at oblivious while Simon leers at your mother. She does her best to subtly cross her arms and tug the neck of her sweater closed. “Simon, do you have a hand to help dad?”

“Course, sweet’eart.” He hums, leaning to kiss your temple. A sweet gesture if he didn’t grab a handful of your ass at the same time, angled precisely so you’re sure your dad can see. “Christ you got a fat ass,” He mumbles, his voice low and graveled as he squeezes you again. You feel your cheeks heat in spite of yourself. It’s all pretend, all things you’ve talked about, but that doesn’t stop your body from reacting. His big hand lingers, fingers dragging over your ass as he pushes past your parents into the house. Uninvited.

You ignore your mother’s pointed look under the pretense of juggling presents, pushing into the house after your fake boyfriend.

Simon unceremoniously snatches the gifts from your father as soon as he’s in the house, haphazardly tossing the boxes under the tree while you carefully place your own presents, seemingly ignorant of your boyfriend’s lack of care.

“So how was the drive?” Your dad asks, trying to find something to talk about.

“Bloody awful,” Simon butts in before you can answer, he jerks his head in your direction, “‘ad to listen to the bird’s music the ‘ole time.”

“I thought you liked my music,” You pout.

“When tha fuck ‘ave I ever said that?” He snaps at you. You stifle the flinch and watch Simon’s brows draw down ever so slightly.

When you’d gone through all the details for this he’d told you to try and temper your flinching, assured you that you didn’t need to be scared of him, that if you were dating he’d never lay a hand on you. That didn’t stop his quick, harsh, response from startling you. At least the small crease in his brow made you think he didn’t enjoy the reaction.

“When we first met.” You smile, playing it off. 

“And you believed that?” Simon huffs, “Can’t believe I’m the first one to grab ya off the street with ‘ow gullible ya are.”

You blink at him, and turn to hastily cover for him to your dad.

“A consensual grabbing.” You assure him.

“Think I’m still deaf in my right ear from ‘ow loud ya screamed.” Simon grumbles, digging a finger into his ear as if to demonstrate his hearing loss. You feel your cheeks heat reflexively. Even fictional it’s embarrassing to imagine that you might have met a long term serious boyfriend in a kidnapping attempt.

Nevermind that the idea of someone like Simon grabbing you off the street is a major plot point in some of your favorite videos. You try to keep your mind out of the gutter, a difficult task with Simon’s fingers grazing your ass.

“It was a prank.” You continue covering.

“Bet actually.” Simon corrects in an attempt to make things worse. “Seein’ ‘oo could take the prettiest bird ‘ome.” He nudges your dad as if he’s bringing him in on the joke, “Should’ve seen ‘ow much this one struggled, should’ve known she’d be an ‘andful.”

“Your friends sound-” Your dad swallows whatever distaste boils behind his tongue in an effort to keep the peace, “interesting.”

“Served together.” Simon sniffs.

“Oh!” Your father seems to brighten at this new information.

“Lost a lot of good men, but kept all the worst, eh bird?” Simon tosses a smile your way. The playful grin lights up his face, tugs at his scars in a way that’s far too charming. 

“Where did you serve?” Your father asks, too eager for war talk.

“Went where I was needed.” Simon grunts. It’s an end to the conversation. You can see your father trying to think of where to go from there, if he should push for a different answer or ask about if Simon enjoyed his time in the service. He settles on exactly what you’re sure Simon was hoping for.

“So what do you do now?”

You almost brace yourself for his answer, and you’re glad for the added tension in your shoulders because it stops you from barking out a laugh.

“Beside fuckin’ the bird?” He doesn’t get another word out before your father growls out a loud.

“Alright-” that your mother cuts off with her well timed, if sudden entrance.

“Your aunt is on her way,” She informs you, “She’s excited to meet your boyfriend.”

“You got a lot of people comin’ ta this thing?” Simon asks, as if you hadn’t given him a full guest list.

“Just a few,” Your mother smiles, “my sister lives nearby so she’ll be bringing her boys.”

“Would’ve been nice ta know there were brats comin’ ta this thing,” Simon gives you a look and you pout.

“I told you this was a family thing.” You remind him.

“Didn’t know ya had so much family,” He sniffs, “Brother isn’t comin’ ta this too is ‘e?”

You have to stop yourself from grinning at the family landmine Simon so perfectly walked into.

“Henry doesn’t come to family functions anymore,” Your mother tells him curtly.

“Heard ‘e got tired of havin’ you scare off ‘is girls,” Simon grins, “thought you’d be a bigger bitch.” You choke. You mother’s gaze whips to you and you carefully go about adjusting the presents under the tree just so you don’t have to look at her. 

“Well I don’t know where you heard that,” The high note in your mother’s voice betrays her, the faux-calmness barely covering the boiling anger that’s starting to show, “but it’s not true.”

“Are you callin’ me a liar,” Simon’s voice takes an icy note in response and you glance over your shoulder to watch him roll his shoulders back. You can see the way his musculature moves even under his jumper. The threat is palpable, and also completely inappropriate for the situation.

He’s good at this.

It’s your father’s turn to diffuse the situation.

“You a footie fan?” He asks, because he’s ass at calming your mother (or anyone else) down. You can practically feel Simon’s attention shift, like the air in the room has to adjust to the pressure he exerts.

“City.” Simon huffs. You dad grins, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. Playful ribbing that somehow always ends in a screaming match.

“Manchester boy, eh? Ya find it hard losin’ to Liverpool all the time or do ya get used to it?” Your father jokes. The question hangs dead in the air. Simon hasn’t moved a muscle, so still it scares even you, and you know it’s just an act.

“You like chewin’ your food?” Simon asks, his voice so deathly calm that you grab his arm with  a laugh and pull at him.

“He’s just kidding Simon,” You placate, trying to pull your --wow this guy’s bicep is huge-- fake boyfriend away, “Right dad?”

“Oh come on,” You father tosses your way with a shake of his head, “I can handle a Manc-” He snorts and turns to Simon “-at least better than their players handle the ball.”

Simon flexes under your hands, and you physically can’t restrain him from shaking you off to stalk over to your dad. 

“Simon please,” You plead, you don’t even have to act, the way he grabs your father by the shirt collar you all but leap to wrap your arms around his waist and try to pull him back, “not again!”

“Again!” Your mother yelps as your father holds his hands up, eyes wide with fear.

“It was a joke,” Your father assures Simon.

“Fuckin’ better be.” Simon relents, releasing his hold on your father and turning those dark eyes to you.

“Look’t you grabbin’ me,” He grabs you before you can let him go, your muscles still vibrating with adrenaline. He holds your face with the same hand that had held your father, squeezes your cheeks with his fingers.“Real cute, thinkin’ you could ‘old me back.” Your stomach flips. “Taught you better’n that didn’ I? You want somethin’ you gotta ask, yeah?”

“I don’-” You try to shake yourself back to your senses and Simon squeezes you a little tighter, “Please let go.” Embarrassment settles hot in your stomach at the spark of… something in Simon’s eyes.

“There’s my girl,” He smiles, “Now give us a kiss love.”

You feel your stomach drop out, and you’re sure it shows on your face. Simon raises a brow. Your tongue feels too big in your dry mouth. You swallow and glance at your parents.

“I thought you said no PDA,” You try. This wasn’t in the brief.

“Just on the cheek then,” His smile is absolutely devilish, you wonder where he learned it, “Wouldn’t want ta embarrass you in front of your folks.” Your mother scoffs. Simon turns to glare at her and you rush a quick peck on his cheek just to get it over with.

His stubble is sharp where it pokes against your lips, but his skin is surprisingly soft. You almost hesitate pulling away. Your skin already feels hot with the humiliation of kissing a veritable stranger whose only goal is to antagonize your parents for the evening, so you don’t waste time with the action.

You’re saved by your aunt opening the front door with a loud, excited:

“Happy Christmas!”

Before she freezes in the doorway. Your cousins rush in, seemingly unaware of the tension and you take the opportunity to pull out of Simon’s grip.

“Is this a bad time?” Your aunt asks as tactfully as she can given the energy in the house.

“It’s a great time,” Simon answers for the crowd with a smile. Your mother throws an alarmed look your way and does her best to plaster on something less emotional for her sister.

“I thought you were gonna help with the presents,” Your uncle calls from behind your aunt, who immediately turns to help him get the boxes in. You see her vaguely gesture at the house through the crack between the door and the frame and wonder just what she’s trying to convey. 

This holiday is already off to a terrible start. Which is great. But you can’t shake the feeling that it’s going… worse than you’d initially thought it would.

“When are we eating?” One of your cousins asks, you turn to see the teen, Jack, staring at you. You suppose you’re the only adult that ever really gives any of them the time of day, makes sense he’d ask you.

“Uh,” you blink, trying to come up with a decent answer for him, “probably soon.”

“I wanna open presents,” One of the little ones whines.

“You gotta wait,” Jack tells him. 

“Ok!” Your aunt announces as she comes back inside, now holding gifts, “Looks like you’ve already started the party!”

“Haven’t even started drinking yet,” Simon assures her. Your uncle joins the fray, shuffling past you to set his gifts under the tree as well.

“You drink.” Your mother clarifies with a smile, she’s hiding the horror well.

“I’m the life of the party love,” He tosses your mom a wink and turns to look around. You assume for the liquor.

“What do you drink?” Your uncle asks, good natured as usual. That’ll change.

“Bourbon.” Simon hums, “But I’ll take a beer if that’s all ya got.”

“Sure there’s somethin’ around here somewhere.” Your uncle meanders over to your parent’s short liquor cabinet and starts rifling through the bottles. Your mother shoots you a look that practically begs you to stop him.

“Do you need something mom?” You ask, oblivious.

“It’s just a little early to start drinking, don't you think?” She asks, a leading question. You know what she’s trying to do.

“You sayin’ I can’t get a drink?” Simon asks.

“Let the man have a drink,” You uncle cajoles, “It’s a holiday!”

Your mother’s lips press into a thin line. She doesn’t comment on the glass your uncle pours for Simon, but she does retreat to the kitchen with your aunt in toe. You’re almost tempted to follow them and see what they’re saying. Maybe you could throw some fuel on the fire. Simon throws an arm around your shoulders before you can move, holding you against his side to keep you in place. You glance up at him, he doesn’t look at you. 

You tug your phone from your pocket for something to do, trying to look busy and uninterested in the chaos Simon is sowing, when it’s all you can think about. He manages a normal conversation with your little cousins, going through introductions like a regular person, even commenting on the shirt Jack is wearing. You glance at it and just know that was a fight with his mother. Looks like it’s based off some horror movie, blood dripping off a knife held aloft by a masked figure. Not very Christmas-y.

You can almost hear the argument that must have taken place when he’d put it on.

Simon must be smart enough to figure that out because he’s really hyping up the teen over the shirt. Talking about the movie and complaining about how his mom sounds like a bitch. Your cousin blinks at the swear before you see a grin split his face.

“Fuck yeah, is aunty letting us swear now?” Jack asks, too excited to contain it.

“The fuck is she the queen of England?” Simon laughs, turning to you, “Your mum’s not lettin’ ‘em swear?” You shrug.

“She says it isn’t ‘proper’.” Jack rolls his eyes.

“Fuck proper.” Simon snorts. He shoots you a look as he sips his drink. You’re sure Jack will be cussing the rest of the evening with Simon to back him up. Your mom’s gonna love that.

Your aunt comes out of the kitchen and grabs her husband to whisper in his ear. Your uncle glances at Simon and makes a confused face. One of the younger ones runs up to them and loudly asks:

“What’s fuck mean?” 

Simon averts his gaze and you feel his shoulders shake with restrained laughter. You have to hold it in yourself, the glare your aunt sends Simon’s way is too funny. The kid was bound to hear it from his brother eventually. Really, Simon is saving the teen from being grounded with that one.

Your mom comes sweeping into the living room just in time to save Simon from getting an earful. Your aunt’s glare transfers to her before she can fix her face. Your mother’s lips pucker, an unpleasant understanding that something is happening crossing her eyes. She ignores it, much like every other unpleasant thing you’ve witnessed with her, in favor of normalcy.

“Dinner is ready!” She announces.

“That was fast,” You blink, usually she spends more time milling about and waiting for people to finish a few cocktails.

“Well,” She smiles at Simon, “I thought I’d speed things up so nobody misses any other christmases.”

“Got nowhere to be.” He informs her.

“Oh I’m sure you’re mother would-”

“Mum’s dead.” Simon sniffs.

“Then your fath-”

“If the bastard was still alive I’d kill ‘im myself.” Simon smiles at her over the rim of his glass before knocking back the rest of the bourbon and pouring himself another two fingers, “You got me all night if I want.”

Your mothers lips pucker again, the slightest hint of distaste in her expression before she manages a smile.

“We’re glad to have you.” She offers. You expect she’ll still try to force you out early. “Dinner?”

“Bloody starvin’.” Simon grunts, pushing past her towards the kitchen.

Your uncle is already serving himself from the various pans laden with food. Your father isn’t far behind him, eyeing the roast like a man starved.

You grab one of the Christmas patterned plates and hold it out to Simon, letting him queue behind your father. He glances around and you watch his eyes land on your cousins hovering nearby.

“Adults serve first,” You whisper to Simon when he steps back from the line for food to let the kids cut in front. It’s a quiet motion that presses him into you, he glances back like he might give you an apology before he makes eye contact with your aunt and loops his arm around you instead. 

“What?” He asks loudly, “Your mum tryin’ ta starve the poor buggers or somethin’?” You blink at him. He raises a brow. “No heart under those tits, eh?”

Your aunt gasps and he gives her a once over. You keep your eyes on your little cousins as they happily load up their plates with turkey and mashed potatoes. One of the older boys smothers his whole plate in gravy and honestly, you can’t blame him.

“Can’t be jealous, ya clearly got the better ass.” Simon tells your aunt as you scooch around him to get your own plate. He catches you around the middle and pulls you back, curling over you. He tips your head back with a hand on your throat, thick fingers squeezing just enough to dimple the skin.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks. You barely hear him over the roll of butterflies in your stomach. Your cheeks blaze with heat, and you clench your thighs together tight at the way he glowers down at you.

“I’m gonna make you a plate,” You tell him, he pinches your cheek and lets you free.

“Good girl,” He tells you, “Got ‘er well trained don’t I?” He jokes to your aunt, who you can feel radiating anger behind you.

You don’t really know what he likes, but Simon is a big guy so you get him a bit of everything, loading up his plate like you do this every day. It’s probably too much food, but part of you sort of likes the idea that he’s eating what you “made” for him. You hand him the full plate and he smiles, you turn back to grab your own food --you must still be nervous from having his hand at your throat-- and he smacks your ass. You bite back the yelp that threatens to break free. The sharp sting of pain spreads through you like wildfire, blossoming over your skin even through your skirt.

You quickly pile food onto your plate, hoping your aunt takes your speedy exit as one of embarrassment and not one of- well a different sort of embarrassment.

You manage to squeeze into the seat next to Simon, feeling his thick thigh press against yours like a warm anchor. Your mother gives him a dirty look as he reaches to fool with one of the candles in the middle of the table. You’re sure she heard his loud announcement that she doesn’t care about her nephews. His other hand settles on your leg under the table and you stiffen. Thick callused fingers grip your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh with something you desperately want to call reassurance. He knows no one can see that, right?

You watch the rest of your family fill the table, your little cousins already picking at their food, stuffing salad leaves into their mouths and pretending not to lick the gravy off their fingers. You wait for everyone to take their seats before you pick up your fork and your aunt shoots you a look.

“I’d like to-” your aunt starts only to be cut off by your fake-boyfriend.

“I want ta make an announcement.” Simon tells the table loudly, the conversation goes dead, your mother’s eyes bore holes into you, begging for anything but an announcement. You think she might bend her fork with how tight she grips it watching Simon shove his chair back to drop to one knee. You clasp a hand over your mouth, doing your best to play the part of shocked girlfriend, despite having planned this. 

“Simon!” You squeal as he tugs a black ring box from his pocket.

“Lemme talk baby,” Simon hushes you and you shut your mouth quickly, “I know it’s only been a couple a months-” the look in your mother’s eyes could kill an elephant, “-but I’m mad fer ya, an’ I know birds like you get off market quick so if I wanna keep that ass to myself I bloody well better get ya tied down.” Your mother gasps.

“Shut ya gob, I’m tryin’ ta propose.” He snaps at her, and she leans back like she’s been struck. Simon turns back to you, and you feel a rush of heat drip between your legs at the look in his eyes. This guy should be on TV with how good an actor he is.

“Will you marry me?” He finally gets out and you nod.

“Of course I will!” You fling yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

His big hands find your waist and squeeze. You pull away to take the ring box and he nearly pulls you out of your chair, only to push you back into it as he kisses you.

Your eyes go wide and you struggle to keep your hands on him when all you want to do is lurch away. Not a good look on an excited and newly ringed up girlfriend.

But the way he kisses you makes your stomach churn. His lips cover yours and almost as quickly as you get used to the feeling his tongue is trying to force its way into your mouth. You rush to close your eyes only to feel his tongue, thankfully, retreat. And be replaced by his teeth, biting your lip hard enough to bruise, prying your lips apart to slip his tongue in and lick your teeth. 

Your head swims, your eyes rolling at the way his hands grope and squeeze you, tagging every soft scrap they can find while he attempts to devour you. He does something with his tongue, twists it against yours to tickle the roof of your mouth, and you make a noise without meaning to. It’s all you can do to remember to clumsily slide your lips against his. You’re not sure you make a pretty picture when he pulls away, his spit trailing off your slick, swollen, lips. You suppose this evening isn’t really about painting a pretty picture.

It makes you squirm to feel his big thumb swipe over your lower lip, dragging the poor thing down to see your teeth. 

A chill racks your body as his eyes follow the motion of his thumb.

Your father loudly clears his throat. Your mother looks mortified. Your little cousins are covering their eyes while the teen pointedly looks at his phone.

Simon rubs the ring on your finger, pressing the metal back and forth against your skin. When the fuck did he put that on you?

“I’d like to say Grace,” Your aunt tries to wrestle the evening back into familiar territory as Simon sets you back in your chair. 

Your family bows their heads and you smack your knee on the underside of the table as you jump, unprepared for how high Simon’s hand settles on your thigh. You don’t even hear whatever prayer your aunt is saying with the way the blood rushes in your ears at the wide splay of Simon’s fingers. So. Close. 

You settle your hand on his and try to push him back to safe ground.

Jesus this guy is strong. Pain in your-

“Everything okay over there?” Your uncle asks. You must have looked like you were struggling more than you thought you were. 

“Fine,” You tell him, even though things are decidedly not fine and Simon won’t move his hand, “Just fussing with the ring.”

“Oh yes,” Your aunt holds her hand out across the table, “let’s see it.”

You hesitate before taking your hand off Simon’s. He doesn’t move, seemingly settled with where he’s settled. You hold your hand out for her to grab, let her turn your hand this way and that. Simon had told you he’d grab a ring, so you haven’t actually seen it yet. It’s pretty. A nice pear cut diamond with a trinity of what looks like pearls on either side. You wonder where he got it, you’re just glad it looks less fake than costume jewelry usually does.

“How nice,” Your mother coos, it sounds even less sincere than her compliments usually do.

You’re thankful you don’t need to do much talking at dinner. Simon more than makes up for you. He talks at length about how “mint” your friends are --he’s never met them-- and how his mates are begging for a go with you. He explains to your teen cousin, at length, how his violent video games could be worse, after your aunt bemoans the fact he’s been playing war sims. He makes no move to censor himself, actually from the few conversations you’ve had with him, you think he’s swearing more than he usually does. He even manages to start an argument with your father about “taking the gloves off” during combat.

“Different once you’re in active combat,” He explains like he’s talking to your father, “You do what you have to, keepin’ your ‘ands clean isn’t exactly front of your mind.”

You glace across the table at Jack, the teen looks completely invested in whatever Simon is saying. You can almost hear the look your aunt has fixed you with, you’re sure you’ll get a call later about your fiance “encouraging him to get himself killed.” 

“Oh please,” Your father blusters, “if that were the case the royal service would be under investigation. We’d see it on the BBC: Special Air Service members torture civilians. What a load of horse-” Your mother coughs and your father shuts his mouth.

“Got plenty of men like me givin’ orders,” Simon digs into his pocket to pull his cigarettes, stopping with his teeth around the filter of one when your mother coughs loudly. He shoves them back into his pocket with a grumbled swear. “Like I told ya earlier, ‘s not the good men that come back.”

“You’re so cool,” Jack tells Simon with wide eyes. Your aunt smacks his arm with the back of her hand, reprimanding. Simon’s eyes narrow.

He watches your aunt the rest of dinner. The conversation drifts as plates are emptied. You attempt to stand to help clear the table, and Simon holds you in your chair. Your mother putters around the table with your aunt, you smile and thank them. You’re almost done. Then you can go home and wait for the flood of texts/calls from your mom.

You can just imagine the way she’ll try to convince you to break off your (fake)engagement. You’ll wait a few weeks before spinning up some story about Simon cheating on you. Your family will be so grateful Simon’s gone they won’t ask any questions.

“Does anyone want pudding or are we going straight to-”

“Presents!” Your youngest cousin cuts your mom off, rushing  to the tree as soon as his plate is cleared. Your aunt grabs him and brings him back to the table only for him to run over again. She manages to pull a gift from his little hands, and bring him screaming back to the table. You wince at the sharp sound, the fat tears rolling down the kid’s chubby cheeks, crying about opening presents. Your aunt reminds him shortly that there’s still dessert to get through. It barely makes a dent in the tears. The kid pulls at his mom’s grip, screaming and kicking. 

Simon’s hand on your thigh tippens its grip. 

You know, you know. It’s never fun sitting around with a kid throwing a tantrum, but you’re sure your aunt will handle it-

There’s a sharp crack as your aunt spanks the kid. Hard.

Simon shoots up from his seat.

Your little cousin’s tears turn to sniffles and a wobbly lip as his mom gives him a hissed warning. 

Your hands shake as Simon stalks around the table to grab your aunt’s hand.

“The one thing you’re not gonna fuckin’ do,” He tells her in a low warning tone, “is hit your fuckin’ kid in front of me.”

It’s so different from the anger he’d had with your father over football. You know that, that was acting, but this… It radiates off of Simon like a miasma, dark seething hatred, anger like you’ve never seen. Your aunt looks at him like she’s seen a ghost. Her eyes are wide and scared, her hand still holding your cousin’s arm squeezes tighter, like the child is her only lifeline. 

“Ow!” The kid whines, the sniffles starting again in full, “Mum that hurts.” 

Simon cocks his head, his own grip tightening.

“Let ‘im go,” Simon presses, his anger as cold as death, “Or I’ll break your arm.”

“Simon,” You don’t know what you’re hoping your voice will add to this, not even sure what you should do, all you know is that you brought Simon into this house which makes him your responsibility.

“He’s alright,” Your aunt tries to assure Simon, “aren’t you sweetie?”

“Mum!” Your cousin whines again. Your aunt lets go of his arm like it’s burned her.

“Now apologize.” Simon demands. Your aunt nods sharply and swallows.

“Mum’s sorry baby,” She directs the comment at your cousin but her eyes are fixed on Simon, watching him like a rabbit watches a wolf. “It was just a little spank.” You think the pleading justification makes it worse with the way Simon’s eye twitches. 

“I ever catch you hittin’ ‘im again-” Your aunt’s eyes dart to you, to the fake rock on your finger, “-and it won’t just be your arm I break.”

Your glance to your mother for- God you don’t even know, help? Maybe? She glares at you like this is your fault. Fair enough. Your uncle seems quicker on the uptake.

“Maybe we take Christmas to go,” He chimes in, “Grab the kid’s gifts, since they seem tired.”

Your mother grabs hold of this lifeline as quickly as she can wrap her head around it.

“Absolutely!” She hurries to the tree to start sorting out gifts, “Oh I didn’t realize they’d be so exhausted, we all know fits are just fits, right Simon?”

“I look like I’m throwin’ a fuckin’ fit?” Simon asks her, his voice still cold.

“You know I’m pretty tired too,” Your aunt agrees.

“I’m not.” Jack chimes in.

“Yes, you are.” His mom hisses.

“And it looks like snow,” Your uncle adds, “so we should go.”

You hardly get a word in before your cousins are rushed out the door, no hug or forced familiarity from your aunt as she and your uncle juggle presents and strapping kids into car seats.

Simon takes one of the armchairs in the living room amidst the chaos, dangling his glass with his fingers on the rim as he glowers at your aunt. Your attempt to help them gather presents is stopped by Simon pulling you down into his lap. You stiffen reflexively to try and leverage some of your weight off of him, and he pulls you to lean against his chest. 

Maybe it’s good you don’t say good-bye. You’re not sure anything you could say would sound sincere with the way you’re perched on your fake fiance. You’ll definitely be hearing about this later.

You’ve never seen anyone in your family leave that fast. Your mother must blame you for this social faux pas with the way she glares at you. She’s not even trying to hide it, seemingly having deemed Simon as unworthy of her usual polite routine. She stops just short of yelling at you in front of him. Must be too afraid of what he’ll do to her if he’s willing to break your aunt’s arm over her kid.

You’re not sure when you lost control of the evening, but you’re ready to go. Your aunt’s exit should be your exit too. You even open your mouth to tell your mother it’s been a lovely evening.

Simon beat you to it.

“Let’s open presents.” You’d almost call it an order with how edged his voice is.

“We don’t have any for you,” Your mother attempts, “it wouldn’t be fair to open them now.”

“Don’t need a present,” Simon assures her, “Bird’ll gimme somethin’ later.” Your mother’s eye twitches. Simon’s hand slides over your thigh, his thumb rubbing gently at the sensitive, clothed, skin. Your nerves must be on high alert to feel his touch so acutely. He gestures with his glass at the tree. “Go’an,” He orders again.

The tension in Simon’s form slowly seeps out of him as your parents shuffle presents out from under the tree. His body, which had previously seemed poised to leap at the slightest provocation, relaxes back against the chair as your mother hands you a present. She smiles at you warmly, almost pitying, when you thank her. Simon’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh, possessive in a way that feels too close to reality. 

“Oh wait,” You tell your mother as she pulls one of the gifts you brought from the pile. You slip from Simon’s lap, and for some reason he lets you, bent at the waist to point to a different box. His hand slides over the swell of your ass with an appreciative hum and you have to stop the tremor in your voice as your blood rushes south. “That one first,” You smile, “otherwise this one won’t make sense.”

The normalcy of it is more welcome than you’d thought. Somehow your usual family Christmas doesn’t seem as tense or fraught with conversational landmines now that Simon’s intruded. If nothing else you suppose he’s given you that. It’s certainly easier talking to your parents when they keep casting nervous glances at Simon to make sure this is an appropriate line of conversation. 

Simon, for his part, does little except keep you in his lap as you tear into the paper wrapped boxes. Occasionally his hand moves from your thigh to squeeze your stomach, or your side, as if he’s checking that you’re still all there. It’s not exactly casual, and the heat that builds between your legs as he drags his callused fingers across your stomach makes you want to squirm back into his chest, just to try and escape the ticklish feeling.

You try to focus on the gifts, drumming up the appropriate amount of excitement to look grateful while all of your attention is on the spread of Simon’s fingers. His hand splays wide against you and you try to trace the outline of it, distract yourself from how big his hand is. 

But distracting yourself from the spread of his hand directs you towards the spread of his legs, to the firm muscle of his thick thighs, to the slight softness of his stomach when your back starts to hurt and you lean against him with less stiff of a spine. Your eyes drift to the window as your mother coos over the knitting supplies and class pass to her favorite craft store. It’s so dark out, the sun already disappeared behind the horizon and the streetlights are doing their best to shine even when the night dims them. You’re already tired.

Your phone buzzes and you check it with a glance.

It’s a weather alert.

You scramble off Simon’s lap only to be dragged back into it.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” He asks, his hands grip your sides, fingers just brushing the edge of your bra. You can’t deal with the way being pulled like this makes your head swim. Fuck, maybe he could just grab you off the street and- NO.

“Simon,” You push at his hands, “problem.” 

“No problem love,” He hums. Lips brush the shell of your ear and you stiffen as heat blooms over your cheeks, “‘Cept you gettin’ up oll the time.” “It’s snowing.” You insist, still pushing at his hands.

Your father looks at you with confusion and glances out the window. It’s hard to see when it’s so dark out. You’re suddenly hit with a grim understanding of why the street lamps seem so dim. Your dad walks to the front door and tugs it open only to be pushed by the gust of cold wind and snow that rushes into the house.

The wind is positively howling.

Your father muscles the door shut and your mother nervously clicks on the TV to check the weather. She doesn’t even help your dad brush all the snow off him, worrying her lip as her eyes fix to the screen. 

“Not gonna be able to drive home in that,” Your father grimaces. Your mother shoots him a look before skirting her eyes around you to watch Simon. You can almost feel his smile.

“You wouldn’t mind us stayin’ ‘ere would ya?”

You flip on the lights in your childhood bedroom. Simon looms behind you. Reasonably you understand why he insisted on staying, even why he insisted on sharing a room. As far as your parents know you’re happily engaged, and as far as you could tell there was a blizzard raging outside. Honestly you’ve never seen anything like it, and if you didn’t know any better you might have blamed Simon for it. 

You have never in your life been more aware of another person’s presence. 

“In you go love,” Simon tells you, pressing you forwards with a hand on the small of your back. You stumble into your room and turn in time to watch Simon close the door. He bends down to unlace his boots and you manage to kick off your shoes in the time it takes him to straighten again. Now that you’re alone you feel on edge. All the casual friendly airs that Simon had been putting on when you’d met him before have done nothing to prepare you for the weight of his full attention. You’re only too happy when he turns to survey the room.

“I can take the floor,” You inform him, already gathering the spare blankets and pillows your mom had set on your twin bed. 

“Sit down,” Simon orders, your ass hits the side of your mattress so fast you haven’t even registered the command before you’ve followed it, “You’re takin’ the bed.”

His tone leaves no room for argument. You suppose it could almost be called kind of him to give you the bed.

“Sorry,” You tell him quietly, mindful of your parents in the next room.

“What’re you actin’ sorry for,” He huffs, “Sweet bird like you doesn’t mind sharin’, does she? Besides,” He knocks your knees apart with a big booted foot, “I still gotta get paid.”

You stare up at him, confusion plain on your face. 

“I thought you just wanted the meal.”

“Meal’s not finished, is it?” He tells you, “Never got dessert.”

“Wha-”

“Take your fuckin’ pants off.” His tone is clipped, short, and deep. It sinks into your skin, prickling goosebumps everywhere he’d touched earlier. Which feels like it must have been, well, everywhere. 

You should say “no.” Literally nothing about this man has given you any indication that he’s someone you should want to get undressed for, and he’s spent the better part of the day tormenting your family. Granted you did ask him to do that, and honestly his efforts do land squarely in the “pros” category, but he’s a little too good at playing a dirt-bag. And this? This just seals the deal on that particular observation.

So you should say “no.”

But the way his big hands had grabbed you, the way his tongue had wound against yours, the way he looks down at you now, hungry, makes you desperately want to do whatever he asks you to. 

“My parents are in the next room,” You whisper, glancing back at the wall that separates the two rooms.

“Who gives a shit?” Simon snorts, “Don’t ‘appy couples celebrate their engagement?” Your eyes flick down to his trousers, the implications aren’t lost on you. He must catch you looking because his hand grabs your hair and tips your head back. “Trust me birdy, I’m tryin’ ta be nice, but if ya wanna choke on it…”

You race to get your trousers open, fingers shaking as you push them down. You don’t need to see his cock to make some leaps of logic that it’s just as big as the rest of him, and if he’s offering you the choice between his mouth on you, and your mouth on him-

Simon leans forward and unceremoniously shoves his hand into your panties, your trousers barely down your thighs. Your train of thought comes to a full halt as big fingers stroke through your folds.

“Atta girl,” He hums, “much ‘appier like this, aren’t ya?” He tugs his fingers free, spreads them in front of your face with a pitying pout at the way your slick glistens on his skin. “Least your cunt knows what’s good for it.”

He pushes your head back, tossing it towards the bed as he releases your hair. Your back hits the mattress and you have to work to keep from hitting your head on the wall. Simon’s fingers find the hem of your panties and drag them down your thighs, catching your trousers to discard the lot on the floor. 

You snap your legs shut against the chill of the room and he growls. 

“None of that now,” He advises, prying your legs apart. His fingers dig into the soft meat of your thighs, his gaze fixed on the wet mess between them. The way he stands over you makes him feel massive, makes the way he leans over you feel looming. 

His hands slide over your ticklish inner thighs and you have to stifle the giggle that threatens to spill from you. You doubt Simon would appreciate your laughter, might even think you’re laughing at him. Again your eyes dart to the hard length straining against his trousers as his thumbs spread your folds.

“Pretty,” He says it so plainly, casually, like he’s judging a toy. It blazes through you, lighting up your nerves and making you shiver. Any other protests you might have had die on your tongue as Simon drops to his knees. 

Seeing him between your legs makes your stomach clench, makes your cunt pulse with desire. One of his thumbs rubs up and down the seam of your cunt while the other keeps you half-spread. He presses his thumb firmly against your clit, the pressure makes your hips squirm, makes you ache for more stimulation. The pressure stops, and his thumb traces its way back to holding you open.

He spits.

You flinch when it hits your spread folds, body vibrating with embarrassed heat as it slides over you. Simon’s eyes follow it the whole way down, and his tongue drags it back up.

Simon’s tongue cards through your folds, warm and wet, and he groans low in his throat. It’s positively sinful the way he pulls his tongue slow and flat over you, like he’s trying to savor the taste. You snap your hand over your mouth, stifling the soft whimper that the attention brings to your lips. 

Simon’s eyes flick to your face and he makes a frustrated noise. You feel his teeth touch your skin just before he bites you. You yelp at the sharp pain, your hand shooting from your mouth to his head in an attempt to push him away. Simon tips his head back to bite at the meat of your palm, his teeth digging into the firm flesh before his tongue licks over it. There’s a sharpness to his teeth, chipped edges that scrape at your skin and ache before he soothes them. 

You don’t want him to bite you again.

You don’t think you do.

Do you?

His tongue rolls over your palm, wetting the dry skin with spit and slick. His mouth has a heady sheen to it that makes you want to drag your tongue over his lips, to clean up the light prickle of his beard with your own mouth.

“No sense lettin’ you breath if you’re not gonna scream for me,” Simon informs you. Your face has never felt hotter than when his teeth scrape down your palm to tease your pulse. You’re too enraptured by the way he moves to let spit drip off his tongue and onto your clit to really register what he said.

His tongue rubs against your clit, working the firm bud back and forth before letting his tongue roll over it. Each hot swipe sends a new shudder of heat and pleasure through your body. You whimper, your wet hand tangling its fingers in his short cropped hair just to feel him shake his head like a dog. 

It’s filthy the way he drags his lips over your folds, sucking and slurping at you like he’s trying to be loud. His stubble scratches at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, prickly and sharp next to the warm wet mouth that sucks at your clit. His tongue keeps twisting over it, keeping it sensitive and tingling before he’s ducking down to fuck the slick muscle into your hole. Simon moves his tongue against the entrance to your cunt like he’s hoping to stretch out the hole with it, circling around the delicate outer edge before pressing inside, over and over until your brain feels like it’ll melt out of your ears. 

Then that wet heat is dragged up to your clit, circled and sucked, licked in broad strokes that wiggle against you just so he can hear the way your voice pitches up in pleasure.

He turns his head to wipe his mouth against your thigh, lips parting to lick a long stripe before he sinks his teeth into the meat of it and sucks. Your own lips close tight around the whimper the dull pain of it pulls from you. 

He muscles your leg up against his shoulder, his arm moving to find a comfortable angle as he hooks his thumb in your fluttering cunt. You blink at the intrusion, the thick digit may as well be two of your own fingers the way he pulls at your entrance and stretches you open. That isn’t what steals your focus from his mouth though, what tugs at you is the way his other thick fingers rub over your ass, spreading your slick and attempting to soften the hole into something pliant.

He’s grabbed your hips to roll you onto your stomach before you can raise a protest to the searching fingers, big strong hands dragging your hips up so your knees settle on the edge of the bed as he stands. It forces your face into the quilts, muffling the noise of surprise that the motion shakes out of you. Again you find protests on your lips, you hadn’t even come, and again they’re snuffed by his fingers.

Two of them push into your cunt and you moan low in your throat at the burning stretch that they provide. Your hips rock back into them, your stomach fluttering with need as more heat courses through you. His fingers crook and he thrusts them down into your cunt, hitting some throbbing tightness that makes you cry out.

Simon makes a low cooing noise in the back of his throat and his fingers stroke against your walls. You turn your head to rest your cheek against the bed, your lips pouting and your lashes fluttering as he gives you just long enough to suck in a breath before his fingers are pressing against that soft aching spot again. Your eyes roll, your breath caught tight in your throat at the thrum of pleasure that tightens like burning heat in your aching cunt.

His fingers pump faster and faster into your cunt, and you cry out, your hips wiggling and your fingers gripping at the quilt. The wet squelching noise that comes from his fingers fucking into you makes an embarrassed heat rush over your skin, and you burry your face in the blankets just to gasp out your moans. Your mouth hangs open, drool dripping off your tongue as your breath stops in your throat. The tight heat between your legs feels like it’s winding its way all the way up through your diaphragm. Your muscles are tensed so tight you think you might snap, and you let out a low moan as your breath finally shakes free. You suck in air between sobs, each punch of his fingers into your cunt pushing a new noise free of your lips.

The wet noises just get wetter.

And then something inside you snaps. Your stomach clenches tight and your cunt follows, spasming around Simon’s fingers as they pump in and out of you. Stars dance across your vision and you bite the quilts to stop from screaming. Something trickles out of you and he rewards your orgasm with a throaty chuckle.

He pulls his fingers from you and rubs soaked fingers over your ass before he’s trying to push one inside.

“Been eyein’ this ass all night.” He hums.

The firm pressure hurts the harder he presses, and you whimper out a sniffled reproach to the feeling, a soft “hurts” that you’re sure will fall on deaf ears. Simon stops, pulls his finger back and slicks it in your cunt again, the feeling of his fingers twisting against your soft spot making your eyes roll. It hurts, an overworked burn that makes you whimper for an entirely different reason.

He pulls his thick fingers from your cunt and you feel the tip of one teasing your ass again. It’s barely a pressure when his finger tries your ass again, and he lets out a slow breath as you’re filled.

“Just sunk right in,” He tells you, pumping his finger in and out, the drag of heat has your lashes fluttering, your head spinning at the deep pressure that makes your cunt clench, “Isn’t that pretty.”

His thumb catches your cunt again, tugging at the slick hole. The click of his belt and rustle of fabric clues you in to what comes next.

That doesn’t mean you’re prepared for how big his cock feels nudging at your entrance. A chill runs over your skin, goosebumps raising to meet the air where your jumper has slid down your back. The blunt head of his cock presses against your hole, and you arch your back into the feeling, desperate to find the right angle for it to slip in. 

Simon doesn’t seem as eager. He pushes into you slowly, lets you feel the way you burn and stretch around him, lets you feel every centimeter of that big cock. You feel tight, even as wet as you are, you feel like you’re squeezing the life out of him. Your cunt is hot and tingling, and your clit throbs with the need to be touched. 

You feel his hips press against your ass, and he grinds into you. Another wave of goosebumps rushes over you at the deep ache he pushes into. You squeeze your eyes shut just to stop the way they keep trying to roll back in your head.

Simon pulls back, and you can almost feel the drag of his head against your walls. He grinds the tip against the soft spot near your entrance before punching his cock back into you. You make a choked noise before your throat seems to open and a flood of moans and pleas flows from you. Each push of his cock into you pitches your voice up and you moan in desperate panting sounds.

You ache. You’ve never felt so full. He hasn’t taken his finger from your ass, instead he presses it down to try and feel his own cock stretching out your walls. You shove a hand between your legs to try and stroke your clit only to feel the stretch of your skin around his fat cock. You’re so wet that your fingers slip over your folds, uncoordinated, and you can’t get a good angle. You open your mouth but can’t find the words to ask for what you need.

One of his thrusts pushes you up the bed and your hand moves immediately to push against the wall with a ‘thump.’ 

“Simon,” You whine, “Simon.”

His free hand pets up your spine, bunching your jumper up under your armpits to unhook your bra, before finding its way to your hair. He curls his fingers and finds a tight grip near your scalp. The bite of pain makes you want to push back into him. The deep pressure, the slight sting, from your ass makes your body stutter, your brain crashing into itself.

Oh God.

“Not a thought in that pretty little ‘ead is there?” He asks, the fingers gripping your hair tight pull your head back, you moan your pleasure for him as he gives a hard thrust into you, your bleary eyes opened just enough to focus on the white wall. “Course not,” Simon grunts, a huff of laughter edging his voice, “Wouldn't've responded to my ad if there was.” 

You reach back to claw at his thigh and find it still, painfully, clothed. A burst of humiliation shoots through you at the thought that Simon hasn’t even bothered to get undressed. 

“Stupid thing, really could’ve just grabbed ya off the street.” He mumbles, there’s a touch of fondness to his voice, a smile that doesn’t feel appropriate for the way he fucks into you. Like he’s trying to teach you a lesson.

The only thing you’re learning is that Simon’s cock hits something deep and needy inside of you. The finger in your ass starts to pull out and you scream. Simon groans as you tighten around him, your cunt desperate to keep his cock inside. You’re buzzing with your orgasm, settled right at the edge with nothing to push you over the edge. There’s too much stimulation. His cock pistoning into you and his finger starting to tug at your ass. You’re still sore from his fingers but you can’t stop yourself from clenching tight around him.

“Mad fer it,” Simon chuckles, “tell me what ya need bird.”

“Clit- clit,” You stutter out, still barely able to keep the words straight in your head. 

“Louder love,” He teases, “don’t think I heard ya.”

“Please,” You sob, your moans still tearing from your chest on each thrust, “touch my clit.”

He drops your head back down onto the bed, and you muffle your noise with the quilt clenched between your teeth. His finger pulls from your ass and you scream your pleasure into the bed. It’s so hot, your ass burning with something that isn’t entirely painful. It just makes your clit pulse harder. 

Simon’s fingers find their way between your legs and he pinches your clit between them. One roll of the tight bud between them has your legs shaking. The second has tears brimming at your lash line and your mouth hanging open as you flutter and drip on Simon’s cock. You tense and release around him, your orgasm crashing into you like a train. Waves of it rush through you, shaking your muscles loose until you’re laid like a doll against the bed. Your skin is burning and you ache,

And Simon keeps fucking you.

The smack of his hips against yours fills the room, his breath heavy and his fingers now tight on your waist. You push back into his thrusts and it makes stars dance across your vision. That deep aching part of you makes everything draw tight again. 

Simon’s thrusts grow quicker, rougher, his fingers grip you so tight it hurts. You scream for him again, his hard thrusts pushing you to the edge a third time. The blistering heat of his come hits your overworked cunt and you moan. 

“Too much,” You whine. Everything is sore when he pulls out. You don’t think you can move.

Your knees slip off the edge of the bed and you just lay there.

Simon rolls you back onto your back, and manhandles you into laying on the bed properly. 

You sit up just enough to tug your jumper off and toss your bra to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Simon ditches his shirt and you sleepily take in the cut musculature of his chest as he wanders to turn off the light.

You pass out before he ever gets his pants off.

*

Your parents have already gathered the presents from last night by the front door when you wander downstairs in the morning. Your father doesn’t look at you, but your mother positively glowers. You try not to think about how loud you’d been last night.

Simon’s had his hands on you since you woke up. His fingers splay wide on the small of your back, as your parents attempt to rush you out the door. 

You’re settled in Simon’s car, driving down the street when you finally let the laughter take over. You giggle and snort, pressing your fingers against your mouth to try and stem the flow of them. But really, what can you do? Despite being forced to spend the night putting a dent in your plans it’s worked out perfectly. Your parents won’t be asking about you getting a boyfriend any time soon.

If you’re lucky your mom will never ask you about your relationship status again, even when you “break up” with Simon.

You’re still giggling, glowing with happiness at a successfully executed plan, when you try to pull the ring off your finger.

Something sharp digs into your skin and you yelp in pain. 

“What the fuck?” You question, whimpering when you pull harder and it only sends the sharp bit further into your skin. You raise your hand to look at the ring, and find a sharp tooth just under the diamond, clearly a feature not a bug. Still you glance at Simon. “I think this ring is defective,” You tell him, “It keeps stabbing me.”

Simon hums, turning right down a street. 

“Then stop tryin’ ta take it off.” He advises. You twist the ring around your finger, trying to find  a way to work it off.

“I can’t get it off,” You grunt in annoyance.

“Not suppose ta,” Simon tells you plainly, taking another turn, “That’s how bein’ engaged works.”

Something squirms in your stomach.

“We’re not engaged.” You remind him.

“Wearing my ring,” He reminds you, like he’s explaining it to a child, “said ‘yes’ to my proposal-” A smile splits his face, predatory in a way that makes you press your legs together, “-probably still buzzin’ for my cock too. Sounds engaged to me.”

You balk, your mouth hung open as you gape at him. Is he insane?

Simon doesn’t even look at you, just reaches to the side and presses against the underside of your chin with gentle, firm fingers, closing your mouth. Then he leans past you to open the glove compartment and tug a crumple of papers out onto your lap.

“If ya get bored you can look over those.” He tells you, flicking on his signal to hop on the highway.

You glance down at the mess of papers settled on your thighs, a mass of text and fine print that your eyes can’t focus on because they’re so shaken by the two poised at the top:

“Marriage License.”

divider by @/saradika-graphics

[heartilywrites]

hold me, console me and then i'll leave without a trace; c. hyunju

request guide | masterlist

summary: how easy is for a person to disappear from the face of the earth?

cw: mentions of transphobia, blood and acts of violence ; angst ; cho hyunju x fem!reader ; open ending ; no use of y/n

wc: 1.9k

a/n: you have to know i adore to do angst, i would like to apologize publicly— THIS IS MY SPECIAL 200 FOLLOWERS thank u to the 200 people who followed me lov u. hope y'all enjoy this one <3 it was 100% inspired by no one noticed by the marias, that song reminds me of hyunju so i had to do this sorry-

Fire red was all you could see, your whole vision was dyed in this vibrant color while your hands closed tighter over a metal bar you found laying around in the alley the group of boys were taunting over your friend.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey,” you called for them, the whole group turned unbothered. Hyunju? She looked scared for her life. “Why don't you tease on someone your size?”

The group started to giggle while your friend shook her head, asking you silently to stop, but you didn’t care. You wouldn’t stop as long as they kept bothering your only friend.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Look at her! Oh, I’m so scared!” the so noticeable leader tried to intimidate you, when he turned to laugh with his friends an empty sound made noise. You had hit him with the bar on the head, causing him to scream in pain and turn back to you.

When you lifted up the bar again everyone started running away, you took the chance to kneel beside Hyunju who was protecting her body however she could. A small ‘Are you okay?’ was heard from you when she uncovered her face, at the sight of blood you frowned.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” and with that you took the bar again.

Screaming all types of insults you started running behind the group of boys who didn’t get far to give them what you called divine justice. Five against one and even then you were able to win the fight.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Ah, that hurts!” the moan came along with a grimace, jumping away from the little cotton filled with alcohol.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I told you you don’t need to protect me.” Hyunju scolded again, while cleaning your wounds. “I’m okay on my own.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “They’re idiots,” you growled while looking in your messy backpack for what you wanted to find. A crooked smile began to paint your face thanks to the open wound on your lip, you handed Hyunju the little bottles of nail polish. “I took them from a store, your favorite colors.”

Brown eyes began to glow with excitement which was quick to shut down on their own, Hyunju captured on her face a hurt grimace, as if she was the one hurting by open wounds.

You looked at the crystal bottles on your hand and then over to your friend.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hyun, it’s okay… They’ll look cute on your hands!” you extended your hand over to her, asking for her own without actually saying the words. “You trust me, don’t you?”

The girl looked at you for a second before turning back to the bottles and then again you, a small smile began to decorate her lips.

Nail polish, bracelets, necklaces, hair pins, small earrings, any type of accessory Hyunju would look for longer than three seconds you made your mission to get for her, since your teenage years all the way up to your adult life. You’ve known each other for a handful of years, being there for her at any moment, it didn’t matter the rain, thunder or lightning, you were usually a call away from her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You don’t need that, let them have their fuckass pillow.” you took it from her hand and threw it back to the old couple at the entrance of the house.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Be respectful of your elders, young lady!” the man screamed while the woman was crying, you stopped loading with the few things Hyunju took from her parents house and looked back.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Me? You’re talking to me?” before you could take any further steps, the tall woman took you by the shoulders to pull you. “I don’t need to respect shitty people!”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Let’s go, please,” the woman begged with a shaky voice. “I want to go. Let’s just go.”

At any time of the day, one call away from her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Cho Hyunju,” your voice answered the nurse asking, the number of her room was given and only because you were already scolded you didn’t run to her.

Sitting in a hospital bed, Hyunju turned her face to you when the door was suddenly open. “I’m sorry.” was all she could say with a worried look you two shared. “The car…”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “The car is the least of my worries, you scared me, who was the idiot who hit you?” your feet were quick to get closer to her. “What did the doctors say?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That I’m okay, I can go home tomorrow… I mean, today in a couple of hours.” she corrected herself after remembering how it was almost four in the morning.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Next time you have cravings for food you wake me up and we’ll go together, okay?” your hand left ephemeral caresses on her face, fearing you’d hurt her.

In her bad and her worst.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I say we ask for a loan under your father’s name.” you tried to joke, cutting the meat and giving her more pieces of it. When looking up at her face, you sighed at her anxious grimace. “Hyunju, don’t worry about it now, we’ll figure out how to pay our debts.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Three hundred and thirty million…” she let out on a distracted tone, you stopped cutting the meat, letting the sizzling sound of it cooking be the only one on your table.

You left the utensils on the table and reached for her hand, leaving caresses with your thumb. “We’ll get the money, okay? We may have to eat store bought ramen for a couple of months, but we will pay off your debt.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What about your debts?” she asked quickly, resting her other hand on top of the one she was holding.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I’ll figure it out, it’s not the end of the world. There’s people who live in debt until they die… Maybe I’ll be one of those, who knows? There’s worse ways to live.” you shrugged and winked at her. “Now, let’s eat this delicious meat we got ourselves by getting slapped by a weird man!”

With a more relaxed giggled, Hyunju took the chopsticks by her side so you two could start to eat.

You’d been approached by the salesman with such a curious offer, both of you had gotten a card with a number on it and had decided to decline the offer to play games. Sure, it was easy money, but what was the catch of it? You wouldn’t risk your lives just because you were offered easy money to pay off all your debts… Right?

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I would like to file a missing person report.” you said to the policeman on the entrance of the station, your hands shaking and even in fear you tried to stay composed.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Name?” the man asked while reaching for a board with papers.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Cho, Cho Hyunju.” you answered quickly, looking at his hand.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “When was the last time you saw her?” he asked now in such a monotone voice that made you mad.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Last night.” you answered back, the police’s eyes looked up to you like you were joking.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That’s not even twenty-four hours, you need to wait.” your heart stopped, what?

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No, no, no, you have to be kidding. You have to do something! She lives with me, she went missing last night! She never came back home!” you spoke so fast without even stumbling on your words that even you surprised yourself. “Her phone is off, you have to do something!”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Twenty-four hours.” he repeated while looking directly into your eyes. “Next in line!”

Hyunju was better than that, she wouldn’t go to this sketchy recruitment call for some sketchy games, right? She definitely wasn’t so desperate… Was she?

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hi, excuse me. Have you seen this woman?” you’d approach strangers with a photo of Hyunju displaying on your phone.

Most people would look at the picture for a split second and shake their heads, others wouldn’t even turn their eyes to you. You wouldn’t blame them, life was chaotic for everyone.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hyunju, it’s me again… Please call me, I’m still waiting for you.” a quick message was said after the robotic box asked you to leave a message. “I want to know if you’re okay.”

Your days would consist of hiding from your creditors asking for their money and going through every hospital asking for the woman, if she was in any room or… or at any morgue, praying you wouldn’t have to recognize her body, feeling nauseous every time you were taken to the morgue only to feel at ease when you didn’t recognize the poor woman on the table.

You would go after to the police station asking for any updates for the report, not missing a second, the police officer in charge already knew you by the amount of times you have gone to the station, everytime you crossed gazed he simply shook his head.

The nights were the hardest to deal with, you tried to stay out of your house as much as possible, only coming back to sleep and shower. Usually when you opened the door you immediately regretted it, almost turning back out. In your bed there were a couple of clothes that still smelled like her that you liked to keep close to, others had run out of her scent and it made you feel empty.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Why don't you just move out?” one of your few friends asked one day when you wouldn’t go home.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That’s her home too…” you whispered while playing with a piece of cloth. “What if she comes back one day?”

What if she comes back? What if she doesn’t have anywhere to stay? What if she looks for you? What if, what if, what if. Your life circled around those questions ever since that day.

What if you told her you loved her? Would she still go to those games? Would she tell you she loved you back? Could the confession of your deepest secrets make her stay by your side? Would she run away regardless? Even if you tried to think like Hyunju, you couldn’t find any coherent answers to your thousands of questions and she was gone now, you were completely left alone to deal with your own feelings and broken heart.

Maybe time will help you heal, there was a chance that things could get better. But, would they really get better? At some point, were you able to rebuild your life without her after building it around Hyunju? Maybe time will make things worse, maybe picking up the pieces of your heart would result in a deep cut which you wouldn't be able to heal from and there was no one to blame, there was no good or bad side of the story, you were sure Hyunju had her reasons, but why did it hurt so bad? You felt like someone had taken the air out of your lungs and now? Now not a single soul could help you out, you were completely alone.

[circeyoru]

Their Twist In Time

[Time-travelled Human!Alastor x Time User!Reader]

You were the only child born into this generation’s time masters. The pressure was always on you to do this well and do that well. Even more so when you had to hide your time-travelling powers. You mostly travel to the past and only for a short while so you don’t disturb the timeline and whatever nonsense your parents drilled into your little child mind

Perhaps you should have paid attention

The lack of siblings to carry the burden with you means all that power solely rest on your shoulders. Lose control and well, you can have dire consequences. This time being you bringing back some rando with you to the present

Big oops

So here Alastor was, strolling in the Bayou when suddenly, he was now in another place! People hold black metal things and something in their ears as they walk along. Oh, and the giant metal that would travel in the streets! Almost as big as a house, if not 3 times bigger! People gave him weird looks and he had to hide in an alleyway to wake himself up

Back to you, you were panicking. You obviously brought back someone, who? Probably a small time fry. But either way, you need to find them. Just your luck that your powers weren’t working, but there was enough residual to locate the person that was out of place or time

Double luck because you couldn’t exactly contact your parents or anyone else to ask about your situation until it was that period of the year (something like a witching hour but even rarer and is cater to time masters). You were on your own for a while, long while

First things first. Locate the target. Technology was on your side at least, there had been posts and pictures of a man out of the ordinary sighted around your area. How could you not notice this man behind or near you? He was holding a hunting gun, or shotgun? For crying out loud! 

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Your voice boomed as you went forward and grabbed him by the wrist, nudging him to follow. He’s stronger than he looks, given his skinny build. “Friend, are you still upset we can’t play that new game?”

“What on Earth are you talking about? Release me or I’ll be forced—”

“I’m trying to get us out of the spotlight, so just follow along, I’ll explain things once we’re somewhere private.” You whispered as your eyes darted to the nosy people with their phones out. The man got the message and came up with some story on the fly, going along as you requested

Safely the two of you made it back to your rather secluded home and you sighed, exhausted. The man more so physically and you mentally. Before you could even move from your spot, the barrel of the man’s gun was pointed in your face, him threatening you for answers

You raised your hands and explained, there was honestly no way around it, you had to tell him that you accidentally brought him to ‘the future’ in his perspective with your powers over time. When he demanded you do the same in reverse, you shamefully and embarrassingly admitted you were still inexperienced and had to wait for your parents to teach the method to you

“Why can’t you do it now?”

“They’re dead and I need to wait for that time of the year to contact them.”

“...My condocenses.”

“Thanks.”

The first few days, after the introductions and the living situation was settled, the two of you avoided each other. Only talking when the man, Alastor, wanted to know where he could find things and the like while you were still busy with your college life

Both of you were glad you didn’t have to see the other majority of the time. Since you were outside with school and part-time job, Alastor had the place to himself. Your place was big, by modern standards, and he had plenty of space to roam around. All but your room and study were off-limits to him

Unspokenly, there was a routine. Alastor would have made food by the time you were back and you’d have restocked the necessities. Then there was Alastor’s constant checking of whether you found a way to bring him home on your own and your answer was always the same ‘No, sorry’

It took one minor incident to connect you two and start opening up: Home invasion

One reason or another, the burglar thought you were an easy and perfect target since you were the only one in and out of the house, plus your place was big

The burglar forced open your door when you were entering and pinned you to the door since the two of you were inside, a hand covering your mouth to avoid attention. Your nearest neighbour was far, still better safe than sorry, right? “Give me all your valuables and money and no one gets hurt.”

Your home was your sacred place, there were traps and spells all around to ensure no one would find out your family’s secret. In fact, why Alastor was allowed to just stay at your place alone when you were out was because of your charms and traps. Any suspicious action made, you’d know and it would be dealt with

Before you could activate one, however, the burglar’s eyes rolled to the back of their head and their hold over you loose. You were grabbed by the wrist and yanked away before the unconscious body of the burglar flattened you. You looked up to your rescuer, shocked to see Alastor with his gun

“You didn’t kill him, right?”

“Only knocked him unconscious, dear.”

The process was slow, but eventually you two were enjoying meals together instead of up in your respective rooms, Alastor even followed you out and stayed around your campus to explore while waiting for you to be done with your activities

You also learned about his fancy with radios and his job as a radio host in his time, again you expressed your blues about his situations, but unlike before, now he seemed happy. What made you blush was his flirtatious words, “My dear! I call it a lucky accident! If it weren’t for your mistake, I’d have never met a gal such as yourself. You’re truly one of a kind, dear.”

In modern times, you’d rarely hear these cheesy ‘dear’ or ‘darling’ name callings, it was mostly for dramas and novels. In a way, it suited him. If he wasn’t calling everyone (girl/lady) he met that, you’d have been head over heels for him

It puzzled the Radio Host to no end, his feelings towards you. He was going to watch and see if you could defend yourself against that burglar, not rescue you like a knight in shining armour. But something ached in his chest and heart when he saw you getting manhandled like that. He needed to put that no-good crook in his place

He didn’t even realize he took a hold of his hunting gun or what he did until he had you in his arms. You were supposed (and is) to be all-powerful. You control time for heaven’s sake. A trainee time master, but still powerful in your own right. You were no damsel and you deserved some misfortune for what you did to him

Yet he still protected you and held you close. Was it because you offered the best hospitality you could offer? Bring him meals with your hard-earned money? Buy him new clothes and daily necessities because he didn’t want to share yours? Catered to his wishes when you could have ignored it all? Maybe those play a part. But what took the cake was your efforts to correct your mistake behind closed doors

He noticed late into the night the noises from your room connected to the study. You were keeping quiet, but his trained hearing could catch you rummaging around to find anything to help your/his situation. The next morning, you’d have food ready for him and give him a smile to leave for school and work

Ah. It was that smile that slowly got the better of him. That’s why. A familiar smile to hide the troubles of the mind

Note: There's part 2~ Hehe ᕦ(ò‿óˇ)ᕤ

Will be updated to Masterlist when part 2 and the random moment is out as well~! Enjoy my other stories until then! Happy reading!

Circe Y.

MASTERLIST

[cultofdixon]

You’ll always be important to me

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • When you and Daryl started your own little family, Judith thought that meant everything was changing. But she will always be a part of their family • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy & Birth Mentioned / Anxiety / Sleep Deprivation / Minor Injuries • Commonwealth canon re-written

Requested by: Anon

“Run that back?”

“I’m pregnant, D…”

Daryl looks at his wife a bit taken back by what she said. The silence ate Y/N alive when he didn’t say anything in response after she stated supposedly good news a second time.

Then she was suddenly brought into his embrace feeling the archer tighten his grasp on her carefully.

“We’re gonna be parents…holy shit. We’re havin’ a baby” Daryl lets out a chuckle as he held her close feeling her latch onto him.

“Our family is getting bigger…”

~

“She’s having a baby?” Judith questions once more to Daryl watching the man nod as she gave him a blank stare followed by silence.

Before he could even question what could be going on in that mind of hers, the young Grimes went in for a hug that he happily returned.

“You and Y/N are going to be great parents”

They kind of…already were because the two took in the Grimes kids when Michonne left on this unknown journey that only Judith knew was to find Rick. Daryl was always Rick and Michonne’s first option when it came to taking their kids in any way. Judith has always been the archer’s adoptive daughter in a way that everyone knew, and Y/N has told him every time they just thought about having kids of their own that he will be great because Judith was his first kid.

She always will be

Even when she has her doubts

The first two months into pregnancy were a bit stressful because Alexandria had just suffered a herd going through it and the news of this new community surfaced. Which lead to a possible ally ship that Eugene, Ezekiel, and Yumiko were being the voices for Alexandria to acquire such. Of course Carol will help in her own way to make sure this community wasn’t going to stab them in the back in any way, but for now their promise of helping Alexandria rebuild itself sounded promising. They even offered housing in their community for those who wanted it until their community is rebuilt. As long as they did their part.

Which is only fair. But it wasn’t going to be easy to try and convince an already anxious person to move into unknown territory.

“No”

“But Y/N—-“

“I’m pregnant! It’s an unknown community! My brother is here, my family is here, why would you—-“

“Jude and RJ are comin’ with us. And Aaron will visit but he’s takin’ lead from the Alexandria’s side on the rebuild”

“Why can’t we help—-“

“Because you’re pregnant and Commonwealth has the resources”

“Resources?! We have—-“

“NOT IF SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS TO YEA!” Daryl yells, which was met with instant regret given the flinch that he drew out of his wife. “I’m sorry…I’m really sorry for snappin’. I just. I can’t lose you…I can’t. Lose. You.” He tried his best to contain his anxiety that was picking at him to get him to sob as Y/N brought herself close bringing her arms around his middle.

“Daryl…Nothin’ bad is gonna happen to me. Or our baby. Or our kids…we’ll be safe…”

“Please Y/N…we don’t have to live there forever. Just until Alexandria is rebuilt…Aaron will come and get us when it’s done.”

Y/N held her husband while all his anxiety continued to radiate off him as she rests her chin on his chest looking up at him.

“Okay”

“Okay?”

“Yes…but I’m not raising our baby in the Commonwealth. Once we are both fit, and Alexandria is back in working order…we come home”

“I promise, sunshine” Daryl presses a kiss to her forehead before her cheek ending with one on her lips. But he wasn’t letting go of her anytime soon. “Yea think they’d try anythin’?”

“I trust our people who found the community when they say to put some trust in this place. But I’m just. If something were to happen, Carol won’t leave us in the dark. None of them would”

“I’ll burn the place down if anythin’ happens to my family”

His wife laughs to such even if it were true that the archer would do such if it came to that. But thankfully, the entrance into this new community wasn’t too bad and that they would be updated occasionally on the rebuild by Y/N’s brother Aaron.

Their temp apartment was a bit small, but once Daryl finished training they put the family of five (including Dog) into a bigger place. One where Judith and RJ shared the other room and the adults obviously got their own.

“I look ridiculous”

“I think…as long as it protects my strong handsome husband from walkers…I think you’ll look fine” Y/N smiles waiting for Daryl to step out of the bathroom in his armor while she waited, Judith came in in the new dress she picked out when getting clothing for school. “Oh my god. You look beautiful! Come here look in the mirror!” She got up from the bed directing Judith into the full body mirror smiling even more when the young child started to smile.

“You think I’ll make friends?”

“Of course I do! You are a wonderful, smart, creative young woman that who wouldn’t be your friend?” Y/N smiles holding Judith close as she held her arms until she felt safe to let go or at least until Daryl stepped out in his armor.

“I really feel ridiculous” Daryl states joining the two in the mirror watching them both look at him. “What? You agree?”

“You look like a stormtrooper”

“What’s a stormtrooper?” Judith questions making Y/N laugh to herself forgetting she was born in the apocalypse.

“It’s what Uncle Daryl is. But Uncle Daryl is on the good side while stormtroopers were bad guys”

“Yknow. There’s a rental video place. I bet yea they’ve got Star Wars…Aunt Carol has a TV”

“I swear. This is a rare sighting, Daryl actually offering to watch Star Wars” Y/N elbows the man while letting go of Judith a moment.

“Never said I’m watchin’. Y’all can watch it with Carol”

“Sounds good. Carol is a better cuddle partner anyway” Y/N playfully jokes resulting in a glare and a scoff from the archer.

“Nah. You and I only cuddle”

“Jealous aren’t we Uncle Daryl?” Judith giggles a bit before leaving the two to make sure her brother was ready to go. Daryl felt the embarrassment upon admitting such bring the heat to the tips of his ears.

The woman laughs herself before bringing her husband in the mirror with her holding him from the side. He wrapped his arm around her bringing his lips to her temple.

“Wanna see something amazing before you take the kids to school?”

Daryl felt her pull away he always hated that feeling and watched her pull her sweater back enough to show that she popped.

“Now how the fuck am I supposed to go to work and focus when that’s gonna be on my mind all day” Daryl instantly brought Y/N close listening to her giggle as he gently rests his hand on her bump.

“You make it look like nothing”

“It’s somethin’, sunshine” Daryl smiles bringing her back into his embrace as she kept her face away from the armor not liking the new plastic smell.

This was nice. Experiencing the good domestic life…something people since the outbreak happened have longed for. The kids were enjoying school, Daryl was slowly rising in his job resulting in his family moving at least two more times in the new place, and given all the medical resources Y/N was healthy and so was their baby girl. Carol did more research and learned that the community did have an intense leader type before they joined and she was taken down by her own assistant who now helps run more of a council system like what they had at Alexandria. So the overwhelming anxiety about their safety lessened but it was still there.

“You’ve been put on bedrest for a reason”

“Did Daryl tell you to come here and just to tell me that?” Y/N scoffs letting Carol into their place.

“I don’t think you should be questioning when you’re not listening to doctor’s orders”

“Daryl left early and forgot to make lunches for the kids…so I had to. All I remember him telling me was you were going to take the kids…now you’re back”

“Cuz well he told me to keep an eye on yea and make sure you were in bed”

Y/N started to ignore her as she tiredly sits on the couch resting her hands on her belly. Carol brought herself in the kitchen to grab Y/N a glass of water before noticing the letters on the counter from Aaron. They weren’t anything bad, just what was promised of him to update her on Alexandria. And updates on Gracie, Maggie and Hershel adjusting,…their family back home. She was getting homesick and didn’t tell Daryl about it because of how great this place is and how he at least wants the baby to be delivered in a place built for it because Commonwealth did have a hospital. She’s just been keeping a lot of her feelings to herself which led to her stressing and the OB telling her to stay in bed.

“You know once the baby is here we get to go home” Carol assures her as she hands the glass while sitting beside her friend. “Once you two are strong enough, we’ll pack up and head home. I know Aaron will be excited to meet his niece”

The silence was killer and Carol couldn’t help but sense there was much more to it.

“Y/N…I won’t tell Daryl anythin’ you don’t want me to” and that prompted Y/N to finally make eye contact with her before quickly looking away. “Hun…”

“I don’t…I don’t want our kids feeling like, we don’t care about them when she comes. I…I know she’s going to be a priority but I’m just worried…”

“Y/N…Judith and RJ are so loved by you and Daryl. It would take killing the both of you to stop such. Even then I doubt you’ll ever stop. You’re bringing a baby into the world. They know it’ll take time to go back to the old routine. But even then, you love so much and I mean so fucking much. They’ll never forget it”

When the baby finally came, Carol brought the kids to meet her once it was okay to do so. And of course Daryl was hogging their baby because when the three entered the room also being greeted by Ezekiel, they noticed Daryl protectively holding his baby.

“I swear D. Has your wife, aka the baby’s mother, even got a chance to hold her?”

“Yeah” Daryl scoffs. “When she came out” he adds and that led to a bit of laughter to fill the room as he brought himself over to Judith and RJ kneeling before them to show the little girl sleeping peacefully in his embrace.

“She’s tiny” RJ comments as he looks at the child shocked on how the fuck this little human came into the world.

“What’s her name?”

“Robin” Y/N tiredly replies from the bed as Carol approaches her side smiling and brushing the loose hairs out of her face.

“You did good, mama” Carol smiles sitting with Y/N on her bed watching the display of Daryl with all three kids. “They’re going to be inseparable”

Robin Dixon was SWARMED when they finally returned to Alexandria. For Daryl’s anxiety, they waited for her to be a month old before moving back. Maggie and Aaron instantly went toward the child, as Aaron took said child from Daryl and before he could even try and get his daughter back Maggie cut between them.

“It’s our time with the newest addition”

“But—-“

“No buts! You took my sister away for almost a year and now I’m making up for that time with my niece”

“You’re gonna take my kid for almost a year?!”

“No! An hour at most” Aaron scoffs followed by a smirk as he knelt down to show his kid her cousin while Maggie showed Hershel their new family member.

Y/N felt overwhelmed with joy, fear, anxiety…all kinds of things. But she was happy to be home…even if some part of her fear was triggered by worry. Especially when she noticed Judith try and get Daryl’s attention when it’s so focused on this little baby. His baby.

Hours passed…the Dixons and Grimes were back in their house putting everything away and Y/N was thankful for the nursery being finished when they arrived. By help of Maggie. As Daryl started to get Robin to calm down to sleep, Y/N went to check on the Grimes kids. Finding RJ already passed out in his own bed, leaving her to check on Judith who sat on her bed looking at Carl’s hat in her hands.

“You happy to be in your old room again?” Y/N smiles leaning against the door when she noticed a few tears in the young girl’s eyes. “Hey…” her smile faded as she brought herself in closing the door not all the way before sitting beside Judith. “Love, what’s wrong?”

“I miss my mom…my dad…Carl…” Judith sniffled as she carefully hugged the hat while Y/N wrapped her arm around her shoulder. “I know change is normal and all…but I just. It’s been a month already and I feel like I’m just going to be forgotten about”

New baby. New environment. Y/N was still in that weird haze of unwelcome emotions do to hormones as she brought Judith close resting her head on top of hers.

“No one is going to forget you. You are very important to a lot of us. You are so loved and you are a huge part of why a lot of us got together. You are a big piece in our family, Jude”

“Then…wh…”

“Hm? What is it?”

“I know she’s bright and shiny, and his blood…but I just. Don’t think I’m that important to Uncle Daryl anymore”

Right before Y/N can assure her of anything, the door pushed open finding a semi tired RJ that was eavesdropping but also the archer standing behind him. The display made both girls think that RJ heard Judith was in distress in some way that she needed an adult. Which was the truth but he was looking for Y/N first, and found Daryl.

Now they’re here and Daryl felt awful hearing such as he enters with RJ who instantly sprinted to Y/N when he started making his way in.

“You are very important to me, Jude.” Daryl brought himself to sit on the opposite side of her as all of them were on the bed now. “Yeah, I’ve got a baby now…but in a sense, she’s not my first kid. I helped raise yea. Took care of yea. Made sure you had some sense of a childhood in this hell of a world…and did my best not to let you feel an ounce of abandonment when Michonne left. Same for RJ. Yeah…your mom will come back after she finds whatever she went out there for. But you’ll always be my kid”

Judith couldn’t contain the tears anymore as she sobbed into Daryl when he brought her into his embrace. He held her protectively…the same feeling…

Like when he first held her

[igotanidea]

Single parent struggles : father!Dick Grayson x mother!reader

THAT!!! PICTURE!!!!!

summary/request: single Father Dick Grayson x single Mother reader? Where at some kids birthday party also can the kids be between the ages of like 3 and 4.

A/N: writing this was just so cute and heartwarming and pleasant and fluffy. I think this is going to be my new verse, so if anyone ever get any ideas in that - please ask me to write more UwU <3

***

„Thomas, please stop running around!” Y/N laughed happily when her 4 year old son slipped on the floor and run into her legs. She was quick enough to catch him, before he actually landed on his bottom and started crying.

“Sorry mum!” he grinned with the cutest smile there was, and not paying much attention to his mother’s admonishment regained his balance and followed the friends that he was chasing. “Wait for me!” he yelled before disappearing.

Her son was invited to a birthday party of his kindergarten friend, and obviously, she happened to be a tag along. Helping with the service and acting as a supervisor.  Not that  she complained. Being a single parent was rewarding, but also happened to be her bread and butter and she didn’t have many occasion to go out the house and spend time with actual adult outside of work. Sure, she loved Thomas with all her heart and never regretted the decision of having him, even when his failure of a father took off running the second he found out about the pregnancy, but sometimes she was just tired. And having an opportunity to hang out and relax and watch her son being so happy around other kids were simply heartwarming. Thomas shed too many tears and experienced sadness asking about the other parent and Y/N swore, that to the maximum of her  abilities, she would protect him from that pain.

“God….” she muttered to herself, gathering the fruit bowl from the counter. “I swear the kids never get tired……” her son’s energy was exhausting, but the serene expression in her eyes were showing the truth feelings behind the sigh. Lost in her own thoughts Y/N turned around not noticing the man standing right behind her, bumping straight into the sculpted chest, immediately being caught by two strong arms, the bowl serving as some sort of airbag.

“I know, right?” the man let out a laugh still holding onto her “I’m dealing with the same problem with my daughter. Don’t know who said that girls are quieter and more polite than boys but it does not apply in this case.”

“Hello Richard.” Y/N tilted her head “didn’t see you around for a while.”

Richard Grayson, more often than not called “Dick” was the treat for all the mothers. Handsome, well-build, kind with charming, boyish attitude and most importantly, single father. Rumor has it that the mother had some mental problems and one day escaped the hospital where she and the daughter were getting some treatment and observation, took the kid and left it on the threshold of Dick’s house before disappearing herself. Despite Dick’s attempt to locate her (and boy, that man definitely had the resources, being the son of the Bruce Wayne) he never succeeded, giving up after some time.

And that gave the soccer mothers plenty of opportunities to get him involved in all possible kids’ activities. Kindergarten play? Picnic? Cinema sally? Birthday party? He was pretty much everywhere. Much to all the husbands’ displeasure.

But, since both he and Y/N were the only single parent and  the subjects of many rumors that gave them the opportunity to get close and become really good friends. After all, there’s no one better to understand the struggles of raising a kid alone.

“Yeah….” He scratched his head awkwardly, letting go of her arm “I’ve been running after Abby, making sure she does not get in any troubles. But it seems like the fire is fought for a moment and I can finally catch a breath. “

“Really?” Y/N mocked putting the bowl away, crossing arms over her chest “guess the apple does not fall far from the tree, right? Abby takes a lot after you.”

“Are you calling me a troublemaker?” Dick caught his chest and his eyes widened in a fake shock. “Me?”

“Yes.” She teased “Aren’t you?”

“Maybe a bit” he muttered taking a step forward. This made Y/N take a step back and in no time she was trapped between the kitchen counter and his body. “But there’s one more thing me and Abby have in common.”

“And what may that be, Mr. Grayson?” she raised an eyebrow, observing his face carefully and impatiently awaiting the answer.

“We both happen to like the member of the l/n family.” He smirked, grabbing her waist and pulling her towards him closing the distance between them.  Her hands found a way towards his neck, locking around it and bringing his lips down for a kiss. It’s been a while since they had any opportunity to be alone, and they were not going to miss it. Even if that meant making out in a messy kitchen in someone else’s house, hiding from their kids. They were acting like teenagers, sneaking around and trying to keep their relationship a secret. And despite the fact that they were both adults this courtship was gentle, careful, soft. They have been hurt before and the cautiousness was making them both take it slow.

But obviously it didn’t mean that there was no passion between them when Dick grabbed onto her tighter, wanting her closer, his hands travelling around her back, sneaking under her shirt, craving to feel her skin, but still keeping the slow, loving pace.

“Behave….” She mumbled into the kiss, but not really stopping him. “Someone can see us…..”

“Oh, please…” he fought the urge to roll his eyes, moving to brush her cheek, jaw and neck in the teasing attempt to make her whine for him  “you can’t keep your hands to yourself either.” The bastard was right since her fingers were playing with his hair, pulling lightly.

“I can stop….” She started withdrawing her hands but he was quick to grab her wrist keeping it in place.

“Don’t.” his soft whispers and touches were literally making her melt. “I missed you, Y/n. I missed this…. us……” God, how she loved his attention, even when he pulled back and stopped kissing her, instead looking her straight in the eyes. “I .... wish to have more of you just for myself…..”

“I know. I feel the same.”  She smiled and her eyes glistened. Before she met him, after Thomas’s father left, she didn’t believe she could find love again. But life can be surprising and even if they haven’t really said the L word to each other,now she was trapped in the arms of a man who did love her with the undying passion and with whom she felt save and taken care of us as never before. And every time they stole a kiss or a secret touch or just talked or spent time together she felt like crying because of that warm feeling inside her chest and belly. This time was no different as  few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Crying again?” Dick cupped her face, brushing those drops away with his thumb “don’t cry on my account princess.” He brushed his nose over hers, forehead meeting forehead, eyes closing, breathing each other in.

“How can I not?” she sighed deeply, unable to hold back everything he was making her feel. “Dick, I….”

“I know, baby. Trust me, I know.” he planted a chaste kiss on her forehead, rocking her gently to the sound of music coming from the garden causing her to smile again.  

He knew.

He knew the heartbreak, the pain, the unanswered question why. He’s been through it all. And it was not his intention to play around with Y/n’s emotions and feelings or to hurt her. Ever. Not with everything she’s been through.

“I’m not like him…..” he whispered, almost inaudibly and she had to swallow the lump in her throat.

“How long do you think since one of the mums start looking for you to move the chairs or ask for another stupid favor?”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Are you jealous?”

“And what if I am?” she twirled a strand of hair on her finger, eyes fixed on his.

“Well, than I’m flattered, but you have no reason for that, baby.” His hands intertwined with hers, caressing tenderly “I lo…..” he almost said it. Almost.

“Daddy?” a quiet, girl’s voice cut him off and it took massive amount of energy to muffle the annoyed groan. Of course it was kids who interrupted him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he pulled back

“I cut my finger….” Abby pouted, her gaze switching between her father and Y/N. “what are you doing?”

“We were just getting some fruits for you.” the older girl smiled “I’m gonna go and let your father take care of you, little one. See you around, Richard.” She moved away from him and with one final lingering secret brush of hands left him, still aching for her, not able to ever get enough of her presence.

“Daddy?” Abby asked again once Y/N was out of sight.

“Yes?”

“Do you like Thomas’s mum?”

“Do you?”

“She’s nice and pretty. And gives the best hugs. “ the girl frowned, thinking deeply “so yes, I think I like her.”

“That’s good to know.” Dick smiled pecking the top of Abby’s head.  He was not going to let this woman out of his life and his daughter’s acceptance was very important for the future purposes.

[multifariousqueer]

Don’t be late pt.2

GO READ PT.1 IF YOU HAVENT

A/n: Ahhhh I hope y’all enjoy this as much as I did. Lmk if I should write something else. As always, keep requesting

Warnings: none, miles being nervous, spoilers ig, your dad being a dad

So what was his marvelous plan? He was just gonna swing by his house, web his jacket and shorts, and swing over as fast as he could; the issue with this plan? He would’ve been 3 minutes late and he couldn’t take that. He could text you but your words rang through his head like a bell:

“don’t. be. late."

It was the one thing you asked of him and he couldn’t even do that. Reveal his identity? He didn’t even tell his own parents, let alone yours; forget it. Maybe just go to your window, web the clothes, change on the fire escape, swing down and ring your doorbell? That seemed like the best plan in the moment. So, Miles carried out the act; he was whimsical, quick and still managed to make it the only issue? He was a minute late.

“Where is he?” you mumbled to yourself

Suddenly, you heard a knock at the door and your parents voice:

“Hello, young man. How can I help you?” your parent asked

“Uhm, I am here for, Y/n. We’re dating and I was supposed to meet you” Miles said, nervously.

“Why did I add in the dating part?” Miles questioned in his head

“Oh! Well, hi; I’m Y/n’s mom. Don’t mind (y/d/n dads name), can be a bit mean” your mom answered

“It’s okay. It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Miles” Miles said, his voice still trembling

“Well nice to meet you, Miles! Y/n has told us so much about you, you’re all she talks about” Your mom said

“Mom!” you said

“Hey, Miles. You can set your jacket down in the closet” you said

“Okay” he obliged

Miles began to take off his shoes out of habit when your dad jumped in:

“woah dude, what are you doing?"

“Oh! It’s customary to remove your shoes in my house. It shows you have respect for someones house by not tracking dirt in” Miles informed

“oh. well don’t get too comfortable here, we don’t do that.” Your dad said, sternly

“Yes sir. I’m sorry.” Miles said, feeling embarrassed

“Y/d/n! Don’t be so mean to the boy.” your mom scolded

“He’s the one taking off his shoes and shit.” your dad said.

“Dad!” you started

“It’s okay, y/n. I mean it.” Miles reassured

The rest of the meal and day went well. Miles gave your mom the flowers, he reintroduced himself to your dad and gained a bit of his respect, and he managed to make them both laugh. You thought the meal couldn’t get any better until your dad brought out your favorite game:

“Let’s play Uno"

“Oh yay! I love uno but someone always beats me at it” your mom said looking at you

“Well what can I say? I’m the champ” you said, proudly

“Miles, are you good at Uno?” your dad asked, patting him on the neck

“yeah I’m pretty okay at it. Y/n always beats me tho” he replied with a smirk

“Hey maybe we can team up on her” your dad laughed

“Hey! No fair!” you laughed

“you know we’re kidding, y/n” your mom said before gesturing to Miles and your dad to team up

The cards were dealt and before you knew it, you had been down to your last two cards. Just when you thought you were about to sweep and win again, Miles puts down a +4 which you prepared for but what you weren’t expecting was for your mom and dad to put one down going back to miles who whispered an “I’m sorry” to you and put down another +4.

Your heart dropped in horror; you know were forced to pick up 20 cards. You stared in disbelief while Miles smirked and your parents picked up the cards and slid them over to you. You slammed your hand on the cards and slowly dragged them over to you.

“Hijo de puta” you cursed under your breath

“Hey don’t curse because you got +20’d” Miles laughed with a smug smile

As your entire family was laughing at you, Miles froze. You knew this look all too well because this was the look he gets when his senses go off. You looked in his eyes and followed his gaze to a man in a full black attire with spots, staring at you. Your breath hitched and your family took notice

“Is everything alright, y/n?"

“Mhm” you said, your mouth becoming dry

“I have to go. I am so sorry, something came up with my parents” Miles said

“Oh okay! It was nice having you, feel free to come by anytime” Your mom said as Miles rushed outside, stripping on the way

“What was his deal?” your dad asked

“His parents needed him for something” you lied

“They couldn’t wait until I showed him my rare coin collection?” your dad chuckled

All you could do was laugh and smile at your dad.

“Oh look! It’s spider-man!” your mom exclaimed

You snapped your head in that direction, earning a crack from your neck and you saw Miles getting rocked while the man in black escaped into a portal. You texted Miles:

You: Is everything alright?

Miles: notreally

You: Can I help?

Miles: nosorry

Miles: I’m gonna be gone for a while. This guy is bigger than I thought. In case I don’t come back, Mami; I had a great time and I love you

You: Miles don’t say that you’re gonna come back

You: You always do

You: Miles?

seen

[imbadatwrighting]

Sneaky Cat

Requested

I was going to write this as a songfic but changed my mind last minute so it took a little longer than expected. Anyways to the person who asked for this I had to smush some things together I hope that’s alright and the smut lowkey ain’t dat great. Also just started watch future man…do what you want with that information

Pairing: Selina Kyle x Male reader

Tags: NSFW 18+ at the end, sex with plot? (Idk I’ve never read a post with that), Wayne!reader, adopted!reader, sweet!reader, fluff, smut, Bruce and reader having tension, no use of Y/n, 2nd pov, soft dom!reader, brother issues, lowkey rushed to the sex half way through, oral (reader giving), unprotected sex, cream pie, missionary , prolly a lot of spelling errors

“Selina! Have you seen my tie?” Your voice boomed across the whole second floor of the house unintentionally.

“This tie?” your girlfriend of two years asked, holding up a gold tie. She leaned against the door frame staring at you with her classic cat eyes.

A smile plastered on your face, walking towards her. “This is why I love you,” you grinned, reaching down to plant a kiss on her lips and grab the tie.

You could feel the smirk she made through the kiss before breaking it off. “No other reasons?” she asked, a devious smile on her face.

You walked back to your mirror, staring at her through it while you put your tie on. “Not any I can remember I’m afraid.”

She swayed closer to you, wrapping her hands around your waist and maneuvering her head to be beside your shoulder. “That’s too bad. Here I was thinking you loved me for my brilliant ideas,” she pouted before hiding her mouth with your shoulder so you couldn’t see her smile.

A small groan left your lips as you ran your hands through your hair. “I wouldn’t say making me go to this gala was a good idea.”

“You own the most stocks and are a co-owner of Wayne Enterprises, I’m afraid you have to go.”

You turned around to face her, slowly wrapping your arms around her waist. Her hands moved up to your chest, smoothing out a wrinkle. “You only want me to go so you can steal valuables from the guests, my dearest.”

Selina huffed before turning away towards the door. Her hips swayed as she walked away. “Let’s not leave Alfred waiting much longer mi amor,” she grinned.

You stood still for a moment, unsure of what you heard was right. You ran towards Selina, observing her eyes for any sense of sarcasm or lying.

“Do not tell me Bruce will be there too,” you spoke slowly, walking down the steps of your mansion with Selina. The sounds of heeled shoes hitting marble, echoed in the area.

“If I remember correctly, your parents gave Wayne Enterprises to both you and Bruce and he still plays apart in it,” she replied hastily, not caring enough to make eye contact.

“When he’s not playing good guy in his bat costume, sure, but all he cares about is fighting crime over and over again, he cares little about what happens to Wayne Enterprises or even me!”

“If I remember correctly you fight crime too.” Selina walked faster, reaching the first floor before you, grabbing a necklace on the marble counter.

She stared at the black diamonds shinning under the light, eventually moving her hand with the necklace towards you, gesturing you to put it on her.

You sighed, grabbing the necklace. “When I was with his all I did was stare at the computers in his little cave.”

“You still do,” Selina hummed.

“That different,” you grumbled. “When I was working with him, no one even knew my name or I was a vigilante at all. You had no idea who Umbra Mortis was after I told you. Or that I was his brother.”

“I do now. People know who Umbra Mortis is now.” Selina turned to face your towering figure after felling the necklace be latched on.

“They still don’t know I’m his brother. He refuses to tell people I’m his brother because I was adopted.”

“That’s not true,” Selina said, following you out the door.

“How’d you know? You ask him?” You smirked.

“Maybe,” Selina replied, before grabbing you arm, only being a couple feet away from the limo containing your brother and his butler. “Listen be nice to him and you might even get a special treat,” she grinned, pulling you down into a kiss.

It felt longer that it was but you savored every second of it. You observed the taste of cherries that presented itself onto your tongue.

You hummed as she broke away from the the kiss slowly. You wished you didn’t have to go to the gala, instead staying home with Selina watching her favorite movie in bed.

You opened the door of the limo, letting Selina get in before you while you held the door. You could hear pleasantries given from where you stood as you desperately wished you would have to get in the limo with you older brother.

You could feel your brothers gaze on you as you entered the limo.

“Greeting Master Wayne,” Alfred nodded, quickly driving off. You smiled at the man, he always had called you by your last name since you could remember. It wasn’t that you weren’t close to him, he just wanted to always show his upmost respect towards you.

“Brother,” Bruce greeted. It didn’t seem like the type of greeting you would give your brother, more like a greeting to a stranger.

A curt nod was given to Bruce as you intertwined your hand with Selina’s soft hands. Your fingers played with her rings that she stole from multiple museums.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Bruce brought up, eyes still trained on your figure. Your eyes broke away from Selina’s perfect figure.

“Whose fault was that?” you murmured, rolling your eyes. Selina’s heeled foot quickly hit your leg in annoyance. Your eyes quickly looked over to your girlfriend before moving back to look at Bruce.

Bruce paid no mind to your comment. “I see,” he commented, not saying anything else.

A wave of awkwardness took over the limo as the two brothers or interact with each other, or at least one of them did.

“Talk to him, querido,” Selina whispered in your ear, running her nails down your suit.

You rolled your eyes not looking at your girlfriend. “What are you doing here Bruce?” you say bluntly, being forced to say something.

“I’m going to a gala, brother. It’s good for my image.”

“Alfred making you go?”

“It seems you know me too well brother.”

You hummed. “Well, after having to be around you, most of my life, it seems I have to. If not, I might have become a worse brother than you.”

Selena scoff at you as Bruce squinted his eyes. “I gave you no reason to say I am a bad brother.”

An irked expression fell on your face as you glared lightly at your brother. “You have multiple recent to being a bad brother! You left me on a mountain by myself, at fifteen!”

An annoyed expression fell on Bruce’s face. “How many times do I have to tell you it was an accident, I thought you already left,” he said, fingers massaging his temple.

“How am I supposed to believe that when just an hour before you were screaming at me and wishing I wasn’t in your life,” you glared, feeling Selena’s hands down your back and comfort and also as a warning.

“Boys, enough of this, we’re already at this gala so pretend you like each other,” Selina smirked, an obvious fake smile before elegantly getting out of the limo.

You spared Bruce no mind as you got out after your girlfriend, you hand finding the perfect resting spot on her waist.

“Just talking to me and a couple guests won’t get anything you’re hoping for tonight,” she whispered, slowly pushing your arms off her waist, a smile still on her face. “Talk to Bruce or you’re getting nothing tonight.”

With that same grinning smile she walked off, most likely towards the bar full of drunk old fish man with pockets full of money.

With a sigh you slowed your walking, letting Bruce catch up to you. “My apologies for my inappropriate acts Bruce.”

“Don’t act like that,” he said, talking in a whisper, occasionally nodding his head at a couple men and woman.

“Act like what?” you ask.

“Like we’re not brothers. You haven’t talked to me like a brother since you were fifteen.”

“You throw me in the side Bruce, you always have. I had no reason to treat you like a brother when you were too busy to acknowledge me.”

Bruce looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face before taking a deep breath.

You went to scoff before he spoke up. “I’m sorry,” he said is a hushed voice. It almost made you stop in your tracks. Not once has your brother ever apologized to you. Not when he pushed you down the stairs, or when he played a mean April fools day prank on you.

You stayed silent for a minute smiling when contractors and other business partners walked by.

You didn’t care about them at the moment, your first thought was on your brother. Then of course Selina forty feet away at the bar.

“I’m sorry as well… brother,” you spoke, slowly walking away from Bruce towards Selina.

“I talked to him and even said sorry,” you smile, hand going up to her shoulders.

She turned around staring up into your eyes. “Considering Bruce looks like a kicked puppy I would say you did it like you were supposed to.”

You frowned at her words. “Listen it’s the best you’re going to get out of me tonight, now can we just go home?”

Selina digs a gold watch out of her purse, looking at the time. “We’ve been here for no more than ten minutes so unfortunately not mi amor.”

“You’re just being mean at this point,” you groan walking to wherever Selina sways to.

“At least an hour then we can leave,” she smirks pulling you to the dance floor. “For now, we dance.” She puts one arm around your neck and the other into your hand and she waltz’s to the relaxing music.

Your eyes met her sparkling black ones as waves of emotion overflowed your body. She made you fall in love with her every day.

“I can’t stay here Selina,” you growled in her ear.

She paid no mind to you as she twirled and danced. She was enjoying this and you both knew it.

“Selina,” you growled once again. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait. I’m not going home because you’re horny.”

Your hand traveled down her waist, lightly grazing her ass. Her subtly eyed you, eyes narrowing down. “Relax my love, no one is watching,” you whispered, softly biting her ear as you leaned down.

You could feel Selina get hotter as you continued to dance on the dance floor. Your thoughts were not on Bruce nor anyone else but Selina. You didn’t care about anything except Selina.

“You’re playing a dirty game baby,” Selina murmured in your ear, hands gripping your body.

“I wouldn’t have to if we left.”

Selina stayed silent once more, like she was contemplating the answer she would choose. “…fine,” she murmured.

A grin fell on your face before you dragged her out of the gala, you opened the door of a rentable limo. You didn’t have to say any words to the man. Almost everyone in Gotham knew where you lived. It was hard to miss it.

Selina sat down close to you, kissing your neck. You exhaled a breath, holding her waist. “If you keep it up, I’m going to get a boner before we get home,” you groan.

She seemed to only hum and that, keeping up with the original pace.

The drive home seemed longer than anything before. It felt like the limo driver was going slower on purpose. Selina didn’t let it stop her as she spread hickeys all over your neck.

The white limo stopped at the entrance to your mansion. Selina and you quickly rushed out, leaving behind cash for the driver. Poor man must have been a little traumatized.

You pushed Selina through the door into your room. Her hot breath could be felt on your face.

You unzipped her black dress before she reach for her necklace. “No,” you breathed out. “Keep it on.”

You could feel her lightly moan against your neck as you removed your tie and shirt.

You hoisted Selina up before gently throwing her on the bed.

“Fuck,” you moaned out. Crawling on the bed to be face to face with your girlfriend. “You’re so hot baby.”

Her hands reached up to your neck, pulling you down into her. The kiss was sloppy; full of lust. Her legs wrapped around your unclothed waist.

You head traveled down kisses her neck towards her tits. She grabbed onto your hair as you left a trail of kisses to her clit.

Your hot breath only made her wetter. You licked her clit slowly before making eye contact with her. She let out a breathy moan as you stared her down. Your mouth latched onto her clit sucking and licking like a mad man.

“Fuck,” she moaned, gripping your hair harder. You let out a quick sound before resuming your task.

“God I love your pussy,” you rasped, sticking two fingers into her drenched hole. Her shaky legs wrapped around your head.

Your fingers thrusted in and out of her as your teeth lightly grazed her clit. She could feel her orgasm already coming. “Baby,” she groaned, quickly tapping your head. You removed your mouth from her wet clit as you looked up at her.

“I need it in me,” she whispered, almost like she was embarrassed. She could hear you undoing your zipper as soon as the words came out of her mouth.

Her legs released you from her grip as she pulled you up to be face to face with her. She could feel your hard cock rubbing against her clit. A soft moan came out of her as her arms wrapped around your neck.

“I’ve wanted you all day, baby,” you groan, lips attacking her own as you slowly entered her wet pussy.

“I know,” she smirked out before moaning loudly as you thrusted in and out of her. “God, I forgot how big you were.”

Your arm traveled down to her waist giving you a better angle to thrust into her. “You’re so tight, honey,” you breath out, hair falling down on your eyes.

Nails grazed down your back as you thrusted harder into your girlfriend. Her girlfriend arched your back letting out a whimper. “I’m close baby,” she whimpered feeling her orgasm about to come.

“Just a little more. You can hold out baby,” you grunted, pounding into her at an inhuman pace. Your cock overwhelming her senses.

Her legs shook as her head turned to the side, giving you a better view of her neck. “I’m close, I’m so fucking close,” she panted.

Your hand gripped her waist tighter, feeling her slowly get tighter. “Let go baby,” you muttered, feeling your release about to come.

A high pitched moan left your girlfriend as her pussy tightened around you and legs vibrated rapidly. You gave a few more quick thrusts before coming inside her.

Your moved you hand to move your girlfriend face towards you. Her fucked out eyes looked at you as she panted hard.

You slowly pulled out of her before kissing the top of her head. “I love you,” you sighed, getting up to clean her up.

“Bath or no bath?” you asked, grabbing a hand towel from the bathroom.

“No bath,” she grinned weakly, pulling you towards her. “Just want you.”

“You got me baby,” you smirked, handing her one of your comfy shirts after cleaning her up the best you could.

She slipped on your shirt, it draped over her figure as she huddled towards your figure getting in bed.

You looked at the shirt, too big for your girlfriend. “God just looking at you turns me on.” You kissed your smiling girlfriend.

“You’re handling that issue yourself.”

You smiled harder at her. You didn’t care about Bruce in the moment or fighting crime, just caring about marrying the girl laying next to you.

[write-orflight]

Golden: Chapter 3

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (Friends to lovers)

Rating: M

Words: 2. 1K

Warnings: No warnings. Over-bearing mother maybe??

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: One misheard conversation turns Y/N and Spencer’s perfect friendship upside down. Now, she needs him to play pretend for her parents wedding. Will their friendship last this one little hiccup? Or will it change how they see each other forever?

A.N Guess who's back in the house?? Sorry for my long hiatus I didn't have a way to write for a while but now with my new laptop. I plan on writing a lot more! reply to this if you want to be back on my taglist. Love, Cia

Chapter 3: I know you were way too bright for me 

You sprinted across the quad at record speed. In fact, you’d be surprised if a track coach didn’t try to recruit you because you knew you had to be breaking some type of record. You saw Spencer walking from his Advanced Physics class when you tackled him from behind, sending him toppling over. 

Spencer sputtered for a second before turning over realizing it was you. “Y-Y/N, What the heck?!” 

“Shut up.” You say, from your perch on top of him. You pull the folded piece of paper out of your back pocket, shoving it in the taller man’s face. “Read it and weep.” 

Spencer squinted slightly at the paper. “This is a C…” 

“Hell yea, it’s a C!” You say, excitedly. “In calculus! Effectively bringing my D up to a low C.” 

“And we’re happy?” 

“Yes!” You say, shaking the man by his shoulders. “Because I never have to take that shit again, which means we’re going out tonight.” 

Spencer groans which you mock. “Don’t you think you should be studying instead? To bump that grade up.” 

“Nope, C’s get degrees, so I’m getting shots. Which means you are too.”

“Fine… but you’ll have to let me up first.” Spencer says. You mumble a quick ‘oh yea’ as you get up off the man’s lap. He brushes the dirt off his pants as he stands with a small frown on his face. 

The two of you walk in silence in the direction of the bar just off campus before Spencer looks over at you.

“I’m proud of you for getting a C, Y/N.” Spencer smiles down at you. “I know you were struggling with Calculus. You should be proud.” 

You smile up at the man. Spencer doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the supernova you seemed to hide behind your teeth. “Thank you, Spence.” 

—-----------------------------------------

“Let’s just tell her we both died.” You say, as you drive down the road that leads closer and closer to your childhood home. “We’re in the FBI, she’ll believe it.”

Spencer laughs. “Faking your death won’t solve our problems, Y/N.” 

“Fine… witness protection then.” 

“We’re gonna be fine, our story is air-tight, we prepped for this, and it’s only for a week.” 

You sank more and more into your seat as Spencer turned down Cherrytree Drive, your childhood street. You couldn’t help the dread that entered your heart as you passed the big tree you used to climb as a kid which was also how you broke your arm in the 7th grade. 

Spencer parks in your parents' very expensive, long driveway. Your parents were both doctors and did fairly well for themselves even after retirement due to some good investments. Spencer looked over at the petrified look on your face and gave you a pity smile. 

“Look, if you want we can say there was a last minute case and we can turn back. But it’s your parent’s anniversary and even though you don’t like the circumstances, I know you’d be more upset if you missed it.” You blew a breath, you knew Spencer was right, as he often was. “I’ll be right here… Whatever you want to do.” 

You sigh again. “Fine, let’s just get this over with.” You say, before swinging the car door open. 

The first person you see is your sister running down the front steps, her mellow-demeanored husband following shyly behind her. You run halfway to meet her as Spencer grabs your bags. 

“Y/N!” The wind is knocked out of you slightly as the 2 of you collided. “God, it’s been too long, how come you never visit?” 

“You know, my work schedule. We’re just lucky the serial killers took a break this week.” You laugh at your sister’s scared expression. She never liked the details of your job, being one of those people who thought Serial killers only existed in the 70s. 

She changes the subject almost as soon as possible. “I see you roped Spencer into saving you from the Momster. Do you really think you guys are gonna pull it off?” 

“Well, Spencer seems to think so and he’s smarter than me, so.” 

Your sister hums for a second. “You know, I think you two are gonna pull it off.” She says, in a way that almost sounds sneaky, you raise an eyebrow at her. “You wanna know why I think you’re going to pull it off?” 

You decide to indulge her. “I don’t know, why Rachel?” 

“Because I don’t think you guys are going to make it through the week before realizing you’re madly in love with each other.” She says, making mock kissy faces at you which you push her for.      

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rach, You know me and Spencer are just friends.” 

She holds her hands up in mock defense. “Hey, I’m just saying. I don’t look at any of my friends the way the two of you look at each other. I’m just saying maybe this weekend, the party, all the Romantic energy.” Rachel says, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You roll your eyes at that. “Maybe you’ll see what I see.” Rachel shrugs.

“And what do you see?” You say, deciding to indulge her. 

“A man who's completely in love with you.” She says, turning to the two men who were getting your bags from the car. Well, Jacob was getting the bags from the car while Spencer excitedly explained ancient marriage traditions. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You look over at your sister who is smirking at you, you roll your eyes at her again. 

“Come on, let’s go find mom.” 

You find your mom standing at the kitchen counter baking while your little sister, Isabelle, was sitting on the other side of the kitchen island studying. You walk up and tussle her hair. 

“Hey Squirt!” You say, excitedly. 

“You know, I’m an adult now, right?” She says, hands moving up frantically to fix her hair. “I don’t like being called Squirt.”  

“Oh, I’m sorry, Izzy.” You say, watching her grumble a soft ‘my name is Isabelle’ under her  breath before turning your attention to your mother. “Hey Mama.” You say, softly as you go into her waiting open arms. 

“Oh, my baby! I’m so happy you were able to make it!” She says into your shoulder. She pulls away holding you at arms length. “So… where is he?” She questions in a kind of sing-song tone. 

“Where’s who?” You say, deciding to play dumb to mess with your mother. She just levels you with a look. “He’s getting our bags with Jake.” 

Your mother lets you go to swat at you. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were dating Spencer! Of all people!” 

“Yea, I know, Mama.” You say, already starting to feel bad for lying to your mother. “It’s just new and we work together… we just wanted to keep it under wraps and all.” 

“And it’s not a problem? Working together?” 

You shake your head. “Spencer and I work well together.” 

“No, I mean dating and working together. Your coworkers don’t mind?” 

“Oh.” You say, understanding her question now. “No, none so far. But we do different things for the team.”  

“Oh, I know they were probably rooting for you crazy kids as much as we were. When I told your dad, he even smiled.” She says, happily. It doesn’t sound like much but for the stoic man it was practically jumping for joy. 

As if on cue, Spencer walks in and your mother immediately forgets you exist. “Oh, Spencer!” She says, smiling brightly at the young man. 

“Hi, Ms. Y/L/N.” He says, softly. 

“Oh, honey, you can call me Abigail.” The older woman says. “Or even Mom if you’d like.” 

“Ma!” You say, slightly embarrassed. “Do you think we could go upstairs and unpack? We had a long trip.”

“Of course, honey. I set up the guest room for you guys, unless you want to sleep in your old room?” Your mother asks. You frown at the thought of sleeping in your eye-draining bright pink room with Tween Beat posters probably still on the walls and shook your head. 

“We’ll take the guest room.” You say, practically pulling Spencer away. 

Once the two of you are secluded in the room, you take the first sigh of relief you had been holding. 

“We can still back out if you want.” You say, as Spencer sets your bags down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know my mom would be so… pushy immediately.” 

“I did.” You give Spencer a confused expression. “I’ve been preparing for this since you asked me. I know what your family’s like, it can't be any worse than what we do everyday.”             

“It could be. It’s my mother.” 

As if you were speaking of the devil, you hear the familiar rapping of your formative years on the door before your mother just fully walks in half-covering her eyes with her hands. 

“Hope everyone’s decent?” 

“We’ve been up here for 4 minutes, Ma.” You say, rolling your eyes while Spencer smirked at the antics of your mother. 

“I just wanted to see what you were wearing tonight.” Your mom smiled. You and Spencer looked up shocked. 

“Umm, what’s tonight, mother?” You say, eyebrows raised. Your mom holds her hands up in mock surrender. 

“I know we said we were only having the two parties for the vow renewal but I was so excited that you were coming home and bringing Spencer. I may have invited a couple of people over for dinner tonight.” 

You clench your jaw, knowing your moms game. “Uh-huh, a couple of people… And how many is a couple people?” 

“Like… maybe 50… or 70?” 

“Mom! We’ve been traveling all day, I hardly think we’ll be the best entertainment.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be fine. It’s only dinner anyway.” Your mom says, tapping your cheek in that enduring this is not open for discussion way she tends to do. “Now, try to look presentable, people will start arriving by 6.” She says, leaving without another word. 

“Shit!” You exclaim, frustratedly, face planting into the bed “Spencer, honestly if you want to leave right now, I wouldn’t blame you. I should’ve known she’d pull some shit like this.” You say, muffled into the clean sheets. 

You feel a hand at the small of your back. You ignore the warm feeling that travels up your spine at Spencer’s touch. You knew this weekend was gonna be a test of your self-control but if a hand on your back was going to make you dizzy then maybe you needed to be the one to back out this weekend.            

“I know who your mom is too, so I already anticipated it. However, if you just want to leave, we can go.” 

“But then I’d feel bad, I dragged you out here, made you help me with a ruse…” 

“You need to remember, I came here for you. I decided to go along with this for you, because you asked me to. I care about you. I’ll do whatever you want.” 

You turn over and look up at Spencer and you can’t help but feel your heart sink. Here was a man, who had done nothing but make sure you were okay the entire duration of your friendship and all you could think of was the softness of his eyes. How the light in the room danced in his eyes, how his jaw looked in his position above you. Spencer was a good friend, your best friend, and he was here because he wanted to help his friend. And here you were unable to stop the fluttery feeling in your stomach when he looked at you. You knew you liked Spencer but you also knew you didn’t deserve Spencer. As a friend or… anything else. The absolute least you could do was try to be a good friend, so you swallow that feeling before smiling up at Spencer. 

“It’s just the weekend, right?” You say. “Nothing changes.” 

Spencer looks slightly remorseful, only for a brief second before smiling back at you. “Yea.. nothing changes.”  

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[fairy-writes]

I love your writing so much and I can’t wait to request more :) please could I request dialogue prompt 4 for Akaza from Demon Slayer 💙💙

YOU SET ME FREE

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Demon Slayer

Pairing(s): Akaza x Reader

Prompt: “You set me free. Now I can do the same for you.” (From The Corpse Bride) (Dialogue Prompt #4)

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Human!Reader

Notes: Literally one of my favorite movies omg

Also changing some canon events for this (spoilers for Akaza’s backstory)

TW for: 

Abuse (not by Akaza)

Brief descriptions of a panic attack

Injuries (again, not by Akaza)

3.8K OF AKAZA Y’ALL BETTER LIKE IT

This is for my 1K followers event! It’s going on between June 8th and June 22nd!

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Your wedding day was the worst day of your life. 

The day you signed away your freedom and succumbed to a life inside a cage. 

Your new husband was a monster in every sense of the word. Not in front of your parents or the public, of course. In their eyes, he was the perfect gentleman. 

Kind. (Cruel)

Loving. (Hateful)

Gentle. (Barbaric)

But at home, within the safety of the four walls you were supposed to call a refuge from the outside world, he was a demon. 

Not literally. But he might as well have been with the damage he causes to you and the house. 

“Can’t you do this any faster? I’m expecting guests.” Comes his harsh, grating voice, and you flinch, looking up at him from where you are scrubbing the floor. Your hands burned from the soap you used, and your knees ached from kneeling for so long. When he glares, you duck your head, hunching your shoulders in an attempt to appear smaller. 

“S—sorry. I’ll finish up right now.” You whisper and start scrubbing again.

Only to feel a foot dig itself into your abdomen and physically lift you a few centimeters off the floor as it dug into your ribs. You gasp and hunch over, retching at the feeling, and some bile is all that comes up. 

You hadn’t eaten yet that day.

He wouldn’t let you. 

Not until the housework was done. 

Never until the housework is done. 

“Get that cleaned up before the guests arrive.” Your husband sneers and, thankfully, leaves you alone to do just that. You manage to get everything spotless and finish your duties just as there is the sliding of the door and your husband’s cheerful voice welcoming in his guests. 

When you are finally called in, you come in to see three children. 

There’s a boy with a scar on his forehead and a box on his back. A yellow-haired boy with a matching haori. And a young man wearing a boar head as a mask. They all carry swords on their belts, and you recognize the uniform. 

Demon Slayers. 

Your husband has a fake smile plastered to his face, and he extends a hand as you come into the sitting area with drinks for your guests. 

“My lovely wife!” He says and introduces you by name. You bow politely, praying they can’t smell the scent of bile on your floral kimono, and offer them tea. The yellow-haired boy and the one with the box take some gratefully while the boar-masked boy takes his and immediately gulps it down. 

They talk for hours. 

The entire time, you stand slightly behind your husband, occasionally bringing in food or more tea for the boys. Every single time you offer more, the one with the box looks at you with such a warm expression that you almost cry. 

His hands are calloused and blistered from handling his sword. (Why does such a young boy have such rough hands?)

But he’s so kind. (Why is he so kind to you? You didn’t deserve this kindness.)

And he approaches you late at night, long after he should be in bed, long after everyone else is in bed. 

Except for you.

Because you still had dishes to wash and the sitting room to tidy up. 

The soft call of your name has you flinching, dropping the plate in hand, and it shatters against the floor. You whirl around, unconsciously clenching your fists to brace yourself. 

It’s only the boy, suspiciously missing his box.

You had since learned his name—Kamado Tanjiro. His companions, Agatsuma Zenitsu and Hashibira Inosuke, are most likely still sleeping.

“Ah… Kamado… What can I do for you?” You ask softly, and his face is no longer the warm smile that it had been when in front of your husband. 

“Are you okay?” He inquires, ignoring your question, and you pause in picking up the shards of the plate. You could only hope your husband had drunk himself into a deep sleep and hadn’t heard your accident.

Or else there’d be hell to pay.

“I’m fine.” You lie, and suddenly, he puts his hand over your wrist, and you stop—his fingers bunch in the fabric of your violet kimono.

“You smell sad. Like you’re in pain.” He says simply, but you don’t say anything else. Because how could you? 

He wouldn’t believe you anyway. (No one ever would. Your husband made sure of that.)

So instead of pouring out your woes to this boy who was much too young, you shrug off his hand and continue to pick up the ceramic shards. 

“I can help you!” He tries, honesty pouring from his mouth. As you stand and dispose of the pieces, you stop by the front door.

“Thank you, Kamado… but I’m fine.” You whisper and leave him behind, sad eyes watching after you as you slide the sliding door shut. 

You see the demon in the shadows of your garden a week after Tanjiro and his friends leave. 

You had thrown the shards of the shattered dish in the outside bin in an attempt to hide it from your husband. 

So far, he was none the wiser. 

You pause in your late-night gardening. You needed space, and solace in your garden was where you found that peace you so desperately desired. 

With powder pink hair and deep navy stripes decorating his face, arms, and torso, he was handsome. But you paused as he stepped out into the moonlight.

UPPER MOON THREE

Upper Moon? Three? What did that mean?

He stops just at the edge of your garden, watching you with those glowing yellow eyes, and not a word is uttered from his lips.

“Did my husband send you? Are you here to kill me?” You ask, and why wouldn’t he be? You wouldn’t put it past your husband to go and make a deal with a demon to have you killed. 

Anything to get you out of the way. 

Anything so he could be with his mistress. 

Because, of course, he had one. He wasn’t exactly keen on hiding that information from you. 

The demon scoffed, turning his head away briefly in disgust. 

“As if I would make a deal with a mewling human.” He spat, and you recoiled at the ferocious tone in his voice. When you open your eyes again, you find him looking at you with a curious sort of expression. Your voice is wavering when you speak next,

“Then why are you here? To slaughter this village?” 

At that, he shakes his head.

“No. I’m here for you. You are the renowned herbalist, aren’t you? The gardener and herbalist?” He says, and you blink. Once upon a time, yes, you had been an herbalist. But then your parents married you off to the monster you called your spouse. 

“I’m not sure about renowned. But yes, I’m a gardener and an herbalist.” You say, and he makes a noise. 

“Do you know about the Blue Spider Lily?” He asks suddenly, and you frown. 

“Of course I do. Any herbalist or doctor worth their salt knows about the flower. What of it?” Suddenly the demon is in front of you.

“Where is it?” He demands, and you bite the inside of your cheek, hiding a flinch. 

He notices. (He’s the only one who does.)

Thankfully he doesn’t say anything. (Because, of course, he wouldn’t. Even if someone does, they never say anything.)

“It’s far away from here.” You say curtly, and his lips curl back to show his fangs. He leans into your personal space until your noses brush together. 

“Where. Is. It.” He says slowly, and you swallow. 

“I—In the mountains. I… I could show you?” You try, and he scoffs, backing away and turning around, his fists clenched tightly. His knuckles would have been white had he not had blue staining them.

“As I said before. I would never make a deal with a human.” He seethed, still not facing you. 

It was silent for a beat. Then two. 

Then…

“Fine. Show me.” He snaps, and you startle. 

He was going to bring you with him?

Would you be able to do it? Leave your husband?

The demon must’ve noticed your expression and narrowed his eyes. 

“You won’t do it?” He said, voice low and mildly threatening. You took a wary step back but shook your head. 

“Give me until tomorrow night. I will leave with you tomorrow night.” You say, and he stares, silent for a moment before he speaks again. 

“Meet me out here at nightfall.” Is all he says before he disappears. 

When you meet the demon again, your eye is swollen shut. Your body aches with forming bruises, and you’re pretty sure you’re missing a tooth.

But you can leave. 

You’re allowed to leave. 

Of course, you don’t tell your husband where you’re going. You just say there’s a family emergency. He can’t even be bothered to come. 

If the demon notices—which you’re pretty sure he does, based on the narrowing of his eyes—he doesn’t say a word. 

Instead, he turns on his heel and motions for you to follow him. You hoist your bag higher onto your shoulder and follow after him. Only for him to stop at the trailhead and gesture for you to take the lead. You pause before realizing he truly doesn’t know where the Blue Spider Lily is. 

So you tie back your kimono sleeves, adjust your sandals, and start walking. 

It doesn’t take long for you to abandon all propriety and hike your kimono hem up to climb over branches or stones that lay in your path. Thankfully, the demon doesn’t mention the indecency and instead follows you in silence. 

“What is your name?” You ask tentatively after an hour of hiking in silence. The demon grunts as he jumps over a bolder that had taken you a solid fifteen minutes to climb.

“It doesn’t matter.” He says curtly, and you huff in annoyance. He really wasn’t the talkative type, was he?

You introduce yourself nonetheless, politely, formally saying your name into the silence, just like your mother had taught you. 

The demon watches you with the same curious expression from the previous night. 

And then…

“It’s Akaza.” He says before leaping ahead, leaving you in the dust as you stare in astonishment before you scramble to keep up.

Things change eight days into your little trip. 

You’ve hiked over countless mountains at this point, Akaza having set a brutal pace during the night when he can actually move. During the day, you sleep deep in a cave you found (or that Akaza created), using your pack as a pillow. He always rests sitting up, arms crossed, and eyes closed as he meditates. He says nothing about your fading bruises or asks where they came from. Though you have a sneaking suspicion he knows. He seems clever like that. 

The two of you don’t speak much. Akaza doesn’t touch you or help you when you’re struggling over the rough terrain. He instead watches from the top of whatever hill you’re climbing with an unimpressed look in his eyes. 

Until everything changes.

“Can you go any faster?” Akaza calls down from a boulder that you had been steadily climbing. 

“Can’t you do this any faster? I’m expecting guests.”

At that, memories of delicate cheekbones crunching underneath a fist flash behind your eyes, and you slip. Your body goes crashing to the ground, and you curl into a ball on your side, fingers digging into your skull as you let out a pained cry. Your eye throbs, and the gap where your tooth had been aches. 

Your entire body hurts, and a rock digs uncomfortably into your side, but you can’t find it in yourself to move. 

There’s the sound of crunching gravel as Akaza jumps down to your side. You are briefly showered with dirt, but you don’t care. All you see is your husband’s towering body looming over you.

Unexpectedly gentle hands pry your hands away from your face, and you look up into the face of your husband. 

With a scream, you back up, scrambling back on your hands and knees as you try to get away.

Away, away, away.

Those same gentle hands grab your hands as you go to grip your head again, trying to protect your face. 

“Calm down.” Comes Akaza’s voice, and you gasp, the vision abruptly fading away. 

Akaza is crouched before you, an unreadable expression on his face. His hands cradle yours, keeping them from digging chunks out of your skull. Your breath comes in great heaving gasps, tears starting to streak your face. 

You can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Can’t—

His hands cup your face, and he looks you in the eye,

“Calm down.” His voice, strangely calming, washes over you like the tide. And slowly… ever so slowly… you manage to slow your breathing and get lungfuls of air into your chest. 

Akaza doesn’t move the entire time. 

Once you’re calm enough for his tastes, Akaza stands, scoops you up, and jumps. You, still panicking slightly, shriek as suddenly the ground disappears beneath you. You have your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of it, and squeeze your eyes shut. 

You don’t land quickly enough, and Akaza sets you down—much softer than you expected, you might add. You hunch over, taking a shaky breath before straightening up and looking at him. He just watches you,

“Thank you.” You whisper, and he smiles. 

“It’s not a problem. Let’s keep going.” He says gently, and you nod, hoisting your bag back onto your shoulders and taking the lead once again. 

Twenty minutes later, you finally ask the question that has been burning your mind.

“Where did you learn to do that? Calm me down, I mean.” You say and hear him hum in contemplation behind you.

“I don’t remember.” He says and leaves it at that. 

Another three days later, you approach him with a plant from your stash. 

He stares, uncomprehending at the leaves in your hands. 

“They’re for you.” You say, and he raises an eyebrow.

“I gathered. What are they for?” He asks, and you slowly push them into his hands. 

“They help with memory loss.” You say simply, and his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. His hands are hesitant, but as they brush yours, you can tell he’s… excited?

Is he ready to remember?

Are you ready to watch him remember?

Akaza never brought up his memories until one night when you are almost to your destination.

“I remember everything.” He says, dangling his feet over the cliffside as he stares up at the moon. The two of you had stopped for a break at your request and sat overlooking a ravine. When faced with something like this, Akaza would simply scoop you up and leap across. After the sixth time, you sort of grew used to it. 

You wouldn’t scream anymore, much to Akaza’s delight. 

You sit up straight, nearly dropping the onigiri in your hand in astonishment.

“You do?!” You gasp but pause at his expression. 

He looks tired and old and sad. 

And he talks. 

He tells you what he remembers.

He tells you of Koyuki. 

Of his engagement to her. 

Of his life as Hakuji.

How the feared king of demons turned him into one.

Everything. 

And it breaks your heart. 

So you hesitantly, ever so slowly, put your arms around him and pull him close. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You whisper, pressing your mouth to the crown of his head. It isn’t quite a kiss… but it isn’t not a kiss. He stiffens in surprise but doesn’t pull away. Uncertainly, one of his hands comes up to touch your forearm. A silent acknowledgment and thanks for your words. 

All the while, he doesn’t say a word. 

You finally find the Blue Spider Lily after a month of traveling. 

During that time, your relationship with Akaza grew… complicated. 

He was incredibly gentle with you, treating you with reverence you didn’t know was capable of someone like him. He even held you once or twice when you woke up screaming. 

You could give him nothing in return. He already had supernatural powers. He had immense strength. He had everything a regular man could ever want. Everything your husband ever wanted. 

But things go terribly wrong the day before you find it. 

You are passing through a large village—through the red light district—when you spot him. 

Your husband with a woman on his arm, looking for all the world, like you never existed. 

Until your eyes met and rage darkened and contorted his features. 

Akaza, disguised with a cloak, puts a hand on your arm as your husband shoves his way through the crowd.

“We need to leave.” He says, but you are frozen. 

He was here. 

He was going to kill you. 

You were going to die. 

“You BITCH!” Your husband roars, and a hand cracks across your face, sending you tumbling to the ground. His hands are on your shoulders, bearing his weight down on your body. 

Something is glinting in his hand, something sharp, something painful. 

It cuts into your face, mutilating it, carving flesh out of it. 

You begin to scream, to thrash and writhe, but it’s futile. Your husband had always been larger than you. So you can do nothing but sit there in agony as he permanently scars your face.

And no one does anything. Whispers erupt, but no one moves to stop the mountain of a man. 

Until… Abruptly… His head is gone. 

Hands are at your shoulders, pulling you into strong arms, as screams cascade from mouths at the sight of a demon. 

Akaza.

One moment you’re in the red light district. The next, you’re deep in the mountains. 

You are still crying, able to feel the blood coating your face, and the muscle tissue snaps at the corners of your mouth. 

Akaza’s hands are feather soft on your face as he takes in your disfigured appearance. His brows are contorted with anger, his face darkened with fury, but he doesn’t shout. He doesn’t scream. He just gathers your bag, rifles through it for herbs and pastes for healing, and applies it to your wounds. He tells you it will scar but that you won’t need stitches. Not that he know’s how to stitch wounds, and you are in no shape to do it yourself. 

“We have to keep moving.” You croak as Akaza finishes applying what little gauze you have in your bag. His hands are still, and he has yet to say a word. His shoulders are still stiff with anger, but he can’t take it out on anyone. 

Because your husband is dead. 

Dead. Were you free?

Could you have freedom?

“You need to heal.” He says shortly, and you shake your head. The pain has died down some, thanks to the herbs numbing the wounds. 

“I don’t want to see you hurt on my account because you couldn’t find the Blue Spider Lily. Tonight is the last night of its blooming.” You say, and the two of you argue back and forth—with him wanting you to rest. And you want to make sure he accomplishes his goal. 

You win in the end, and Akaza looks away with a frustrated huff. 

But he doesn’t leave you behind. 

The Blue Spider Lily is stunning.

The moonlight illuminated the royal blue petals, and you are struck by its beauty.

It almost hurt you to pluck it from the ground. 

It blossoms over the grave of someone unknown. You can’t read the faded kanji engraved, not really, at least. You swear that it reads “Tsugikuni Uta.” 

Akaza approaches the flower, and just as his fingers wrap around the stem…

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” Comes a familiar voice, and you freeze.

Kamado Tanjiro?

Turning around shows you to be correct. The young man has his sword drawn, that box at his back, as he stares in a fury at the demon before him.

The demon in question looks unimpressed. A little angry even. But Akaza doesn’t move from his kneeling position at the grave. He moves to pluck the flower from the ground, and that’s when Tanjiro bolts forward, intending to cut off his head. 

Only for you to get in the way, quite literally shoving him by his shoulders and sending him crashing to the ground. 

He hits the ground in a roll and comes up on one knee to face you.

His face pales, his sword beginning to tremble. He calls your name and takes in your bandaged appearance, voice thick with disbelief.

“I can’t let you kill him.” You whisper softly, and his angry snarl twists into something sad. 

“He’s killed countless people.” He tries, and you shrug,

“He saved my life.” Your tone is muddled through the gauze in your mouth, but it’s vehement and strong, unlike any manner you have had since you married your now-deceased husband. 

Akaza stands, the flower in his grasp, as he approaches the young boy. Tanjiro tightens his grip on his sword, though the tip is trembling. You grasp the back of Akaza’s vest just as he raises his free hand, presumably to start a fight.

“You must leave.” You whisper to him, and he pauses in his movements, turning so he can see you out of the corner of your eye. 

“Let me kill the brat first.” He says and watches you shake your head.

“Allow me to deal with him.”

Tanjiro darts forward then, swinging his sword with deadly precision. 

You get in the way yet again, pushing Akaza out of the way and ducking under Tanjiro’s blow. 

Akaza gets to his feet and stares at you with an unreadable expression.

“Why?” He whispers, only loud enough for you to hear. You offer him a watery smile.

“You set me free. Now I can do the same for you.” You reply, and he only stares silently before disappearing from where he stands. 

[bluesylveon2]

omg, can I request number 13 with sebek please?????

I did it anon! I wrote this! The ending could be better but I think this turned out good. This prompt really fit Sebek too lol

Prompt: 13. We make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine

Note: Modern au and aged up characters

Word Count: 1691

Warnings: not beta read, possible OOC characters (Sebek is an asshole at first), and an attempt at writing subways (I based it off NYC)

500 Follower Event

Yuu was having a not-so-good, horrible, very bad day.

It had all started when she had slept past her alarm and woke up to Grim, the recent cat she adopted, making her sofa a scratching post. Then, after running out of her house with a white blouse, a skirt, heels, and a cup of coffee in her hand, she magically ran into someone, spilling coffee on her clothes. 

The person apologized, but Yuu wanted to scream. She only had 5 minutes left until her shift at the office started, and she did not want her boss or coworkers to get on her about it. 

(There was a redhead in the IT department who was strict and infamous for lecturing a coworker who was late by two seconds). 

It was a stroke of luck that Yuu made it on time. Everyone was too busy to notice her arrival except for Vil, who gasped at Yuu's current state. Luckily for her, he had a blouse and a skirt that he lent her (but not before giving her a lecture about her appearance). 

The rest of her shift was boring after that. Yuu quietly sat in her cubicle while the chaos happened around her. It was a typical day, to say the least, until her boss, Dire Crowley, showed up with a mountain of paperwork and wanted it done by the end of the day because he was oh-so kind. It reminded her of the infamous trio in Accounting and Finance, who she was 100% certain were in the mafia. And so, Yuu left her job with a massive headache, a plastic bag with the company label of her soiled clothes, and a list of how to get revenge on her boss. The poor girl was working like Cinderella, and she only wanted to sleep while cuddling Grim.

Yuu made her way toward the train station and mindlessly went to her stop. Yuu could not hold back her yawn as the subway appeared. She tiredly followed behind the crowd into the train, letting her feet guide her inside. It was partially full, and luckily, only a few people entered with her. Her eyes landed on the spot near the door, perfect for her to sit and decompress. 

Yuu only took two steps towards the seat when suddenly, a man with slicked back light green hair, yellow-green eyes, and the strangest green and black outfit she had seen sat down in HER seat. Now slightly awake but more annoyed, Yuu marched toward him. 

"Excuse me, sir. That is my seat."

The man looked her up and down at her appearance, and his lips curled up in disgust like she offended him. "It is clear that I saw this seat and sat down first. Therefore, it is my seat."

Yuu huffed and wanted to say some not-so-nice words to him, but some children were around her. She chose to look down at his stupid-colored eyes with determination. "Look, mister. Don't you know the saying 'ladies first?'"

The man scoffed, "Of course I do. Do you think I was raised like a barbarian?" He said and eyed the plastic bag in her hands. "Unlike some people. Besides, I must be in top shape after spending all day protecting my Master."

Yuu stared at him like he was a crazy person. "You- jjsndgondvisjdf" She could not form words and chose to say sounds instead. One parent covered her child's ears. 

"Do you not know who I am?"

Yuu stopped her rambling and looked at him. "I don't know and I don't care. If you don't move, then I have no choice."

The man's eyebrows furrowed, "What are you? HEY!" He yelled, causing some people nearby to silence him. Meanwhile, the girl on his lap made herself comfortable. "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," She said like it was obvious. She turned her head to look into his eyes; a frown etched on her face. "Look, I had a tiring day today too, but I need to sit down after a long day at work."

The man blushed at the close proximity and looked away. His face was slightly red, and a pang of guilt filled his chest. "I'm sorry for being rude to you. I was unaware."

Yuu waved him off, "It's alright. You didn't know." She suddenly yawned and rested her head against his chest. She could feel how fast his heartbeat was going but was too exhausted to ask why. She felt like she was covered in a blanket. "You can just chill until it’s your stop. I'll get up when it is my stop."

The man looked at her curiously, "Where is your stop?"

Yuu yawned again. Her eyes felt heavy. "Ramshackle Street," she replied, her eyes getting starting to close. "You are so warm and comfortable," she said absentmindedly, wrapping her arms around his torso. 

"Hey! What are you?" Sebek stopped talking and stared at Yuu's sleeping face. He moved his arm to shake her awake but stopped. He could see how exhausted she was by looking at the eye bags under her eyes and how she managed to sleep so quickly. It reminded him of Silver, but slower by two seconds.

Speaking of, Sebek's suddenly rang, and his friend's name was on the caller ID. 

"Hello?"

"Ah! Sebek! There you are! We were looking for you. Where are you right now?" His other Master and Silver's adoptive father, Lilia's voice, replied. "My phone died, so I must use Silver's khee hee."

"Father, that's because you misplaced your charger." Silver's voice called out. 

Lilia laughed. “Silly me!”

Sebek rolled his eyes, “Is the Young Master safe?” 

Lilia huffed. “Malleus is next to me, eating some ice cream. You know how he is, but we have a more important matter to discuss. Where are you now? The city must be so big for you to accidentally wander off."

Sebek sighed. He should have been more diligent and kept sight of Malleus (the tallest person he knew) or Lilia, but he didn’t. And now he was stuck on a train with a random girl sleeping on his lap. 

It was like the girl knew he was thinking about her because she mumbled something about 'that damn Crowley' and was loud enough to be heard by Lilia.

"What was that?"

Sebek scrambled to say something, "I apologize, Master Lilia! I am taking a train that will stop in the Diasomnia area, but I might be delayed. You see, there is this girl-"

"A GIRL?!?" Lilia exclaimed, "Why didn't you say that earlier? Is she your girlfriend? Did you meet online and finally get to meet in person? Am I finally getting grandchildren???"

Sebek could tell that Silver was rolling his eyes at the last part. "No, Master Lilia. She was exhausted from her work and ran into me on the subway. She is taking a nap right now."

"Oh, crumbs," Lilia sighed dramatically. "I thought I would finally experience what it is like being a grandpa. You know I am not getting any younger."

"We know." Silver and Sebek said at the same time. 

"Well, make sure that the girl gets home safely, Sebek. Do you know where her stop is?"

"Ramshackle Street."

"Perfect!" Lilia exclaimed. "It is actually nearby Diasomnia, so we can meet you there. Malleus has always wanted to explore it anyways. It is known for its historic mansions, you know. Make sure to send your location or call Silver so we can find you."

Sebek nodded and adjusted Yuu by securely wrapping an arm around her so she did not fall off his lap. "Understood. It should be one of the upcoming stops, so I should be there soon."

"Good. See you soon, Sebek!" Lilia said and hung up. Sebek pocketed his phone and looked down at the sleeping Yuu. She looked peaceful, and she was breathing quietly. However, she did look cold, and her thin long sleeve did not look like it was enough. Sebek took off his coat, leaving him in his white shirt and tie (it surprised him just how he did it, given the complex design), and wrapped it around Yuu's body. He wrapped his arms protectively around her again and sighed. 

"Next stop is Ramshackle Station. Stand clear of the closed doors, please," the intercom's voice called out. 

Sebek gently shook Yuu's shoulder. "Hey, you need to wake up. Your stop is coming up."

Yuu slowly opened her eyes and looked around her surroundings. "Huh?" Her eyes landed on Sebek's face. "Oh, right. I took a nap on you. Let me get out of your way." She moved to stand up but was stopped by Sebek holding onto her hand. 

"You have a few minutes until the train stops. You can stay until then..." His voice trailed off. 

Yuu chuckled, her laugh sounding like music to Sebek. "Where are my manners? I'm Yuu." she smiled, causing Sebek's heart to skip a beat. 

"I'm Sebek Zigvolt." Yuu's smile grew even wider as she clung to Sebek's coat. Realizing the unfamiliar fabric, she looked down in shock.

"Is this yours? Here, let me return it-" She began to take it off only to stop when Sebek shook his head. 

"Keep it. Besides, you can wear it even longer if you allow me to walk you home."

Sebek expected her to say yes, not jump on him, and wrap her arms around his neck. "Yes! Thank you, Sebek!" She grinned. Maybe her day was finally getting better after all.

Bonus: Sometime during the walk back to Yuu's house. 

"You know, this fabric seems pretty fancy. Are you a bodyguard or something?" Yuu asked while rubbing Sebek’s coat between her fingers. 

Sebek nodded and smiled proudly. "Yes, I am. In fact, you might meet my masters when I drop you off."

Yuu's eyes widen. "Really? They must be important people for you to call them that."

"Of course! It is none other than the great Malleus Draconia! He is so great and powerful-"

Yuu sweatdropped as Sebek went on a rant about Malleus when all she wanted to do was to go home. 

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[deke-rivers-1957]

Deke's Path To Peace

AN: I've had this story idea for a while now. I just can't look at Deke without thinking "this boy had trauma." If you have any requests feel free to send them in.

"Fire! Fire! Everyone out! Out!"

I wake up gaspin for air and see boys runnin out of the room. I don't even think before runnin too. I can smell the smoke but I keep runnin until I find some bushes to stop in. I can see the orphanage burnin to the ground. It's so horrible I start runnin again. I feel so scared that I don't even realize I'm in a cemetery. I trip on somethin and fall to the ground. I look up and see a tombstone.

"Deke Rivers: He was alone except for his friends who missed him."

There's somethin about it that connects to me. I didn't know who this Deke was but I feel that he and I were the same by bein as lonely as me.

"I'll find some friends. Maybe I can make your name a name worth rememberin."

I yawn and lay down right by his grave. I don’t want to be Jimmy Tompkins anymore. I’ll just bury him here and wake up as Deke Rivers.

"Good night, Jimmy Tompkins."

I look up at the sky and see a lot of stars. There's a very nice breeze that helps me fall asleep. The next mornin I wake up and realize I can't just stay here.

"Ok Deke. Time to find somethin to eat."

I find my way out of the cemetery and start walkin. After not even an hour I start feelin scared about bein lost. Then I see a sign.

"Next town 5 miles away."

I sigh then start walkin again. I'm feelin tired from not eatin.

"Hey now. Where did you come from son?"

I turn around and look spooked to see a man comin towards me.

"Where're your parents?"

I fidget with my hands a little.

"I. I don't have any."

"I see."

I find the courage to look up at him.

"Can I ask you somethin?"

"What?"

"Is this town far from the orphanage that just burned down?"

His eyes widen.

"Oh you're from un-incorporated Allen. This is Lucas. Such a shame the orphanage burned down. Everything's so chaotic nobody can tell if all the children made it out. All the records of those poor kids're gone."

I realize just how serious this fire was. I don't have anything to my name anymore.

"What's gonna happen to the kids who made it out?"

"They're all being sent throughout all of Texas. Allen simply doesn't the money to rebuild it."

I don't wanna go back to be sent away like all those other kids. I wanna stay here if I can.

"Do you have a place to go boy?"

"Yes I'm goin to my aunt's house."

"How far is it?"

I don't like lyin but I don't think I have a choice here.

"Oh it's not far. Just a few miles up the road."

"You mean up in Fairview?"

I nod but I feel very nervous. I don't want this man to ask anymore questions because that'd mean havin to lie more. My stomach starts growlin and I feel embarrassed.

"Alright. I'll tell you what. I'll buy you breakfast. Then you can go on your way."

I start smilin and nod my thanks.

"Thank you sir."

I follow him to a diner and he orders a plate of bacon and eggs for me. I really needed the food and it tastes way better than anythin. I ever had at the orphanage.

"Thanks again for the food."

"You're welcome. Good luck finding your aunt, kid."

I get out of my seat and wave as I leave the diner. As soon as I get outta his line of sight I start feelin nervous about what's gonna happen to me now.

Time Skip

The next 5 years have been rough. I'm I think 16 years old now and I've been wandering across Texas to avoid police puttin me back into the system. I've been livin on scraps and whatever spare change I can find. I'm just so lonely and want somethin to go my way.

"Well this equals 50 cents. I can probably buy somethin to drink."

I manage to find a bar and decide to head inside. I know it's run down but I don't have that many options.

"What'll it be boy?"

I try not to shudder at bein called boy since it makes me feel like I’m still a child at the orphanage. I just look at the bartender.

"Umm. I only have 50 cents. Do you have anythin inexpensive?"

"Yeah. I got something for ya."

"Thanks."

I look around the bar and nobody wants to deal with me. It's mostly older men drinking heavily. The bartender doesn't seem to mind me so I decide to take a seat and wait for my drink.

"Bottoms up kid. A club soda."

I look at the drink confused. I've never heard of a club soda and I don't even know if it's alcoholic. Either way, I'm thirsty and decide I might as well take a drink.

"Thanks."

I never tasted anythin like this but I'm still goin. When I finish I try to count my coins to pay for it.

"Ah don't worry about it. It's on the house."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

I'm not used to anyone bein nice to me. I'm actually a little suspicious of this bartender now.

"Well uh. Thanks again for the drink."

"Don't mention it. You're gonna get a lot more out of this soon enough."

I start to feel nervous but try not to show it. I try to leave the bar when I suddenly feel dizzy. As much as I try to keep my balance I end up falling to the floor and pass out. I don't know how long I've been unconscious but I wake up in a random bed.

"Ugh. Where am I?"

A man comes in the door and I feel scared again. I don't know where I am or what even happened. I don't want anyone to hurt me.

"Oh aren't you a cute one."

I start to shiver. I'm not used to having anyone compliment me. People usually ignore me.

"Listen doll face I get it. You're done on your luck and need money."

I just look at him as he's making me even more nervous.

"Well yeah. I do."

"Now believe me you'll be making a lot of it."

My heart starts beatin fast.

"You mean like a job?"

"Oh I wouldn't call it a job. You won't even need to do anything but look wonderful."

I don't feel any better after hearin that. What could he possibly mean by "looking wonderful"?

"Do you. Do you mean like a model?"

"You can call it that."

Even though I should feel relieved by that, I also feel a sense of helplessness. All I can do is accept my fate. I have nowhere else to go.

"Ok."

Time Skip

These were the worst two years of my life. This man broke me. I've been robbed of my youth and my innocence. I've had to do such unspeakable things just to have food to eat. Money doesn't even matter because I can't leave the house. What's worse is that no one even cared about my situation. Every man and woman I've been with didn't even care about me.

"Good news. The boss is going to meet with you."

I don't even say anythin as I'm lead to the boss' room. I have nothing in me anymore. The boss looks at me and I just know things are going to be worse.

"Your services are no longer needed honey. I'm letting you go."

Somehow I feel so frustrated. I've been nothing but this monster's sex slave. He made me think I was nothing more than a pretty face. Now I have nothing!

"This will get you to Missouri sugar. You can buy a guitar and use that pretty voice."

I look at the money. $50. That's all I'm worth?! Even though I take it I'm just so bitter.

"Just where am I supposed to go in Missouri?"

"Plenty of places to go in Kansas City doll."

Ah tense up but say nothing.

"Fine. I'll take my chances then."

I practically run out of the building. I don't even pay attention where I'm goin as I run. I'm just like I was about 11 years old: just runnin away until I end up lost in the middle of nowhere. That's when I stop to breakdown and cry. I just wasted so many years of my life only to be violated by everyone I've ever met. The only thing I can do's try goin to the police.

"Alright Deke. Time to man up and tell the police what happened."

I get up and try to find a police station. I'm lucky that one isn't too far away. I walk inside and see the officer at his desk.

"Um excuse me. I'd like to report a crime."

He takes the cigar out of his mouth.

"What's the crime?"

So I explain my whole story in full detail. I end up fallin into the chair and sob as I get up to what happened to today. The whole time, the policeman looks at me and puffs his cigar. Once I finish talking he sighs and looks at me with pity.

"We've had complaints before. This has been an ongoing investigation for the past couple years. The bar you mentioned unfortunately went out of business 6 months ago. Unless you know how to get back to the house you were in or any names you might've heard, there just isn't anything that we can do about it."

I look at him good and hard. He doesn't look like I'm a disgusting person for having experienced this.

“No. I can’t. I just ran off as soon as he said he was lettin me go. I didn’t pay attention to anythin like the address. I just wanted to get out of there as soon as I could.”

I feel like such an idiot. I look up at the policeman and take in his face. He genuinely feels terrible that I was hurt.

"Ok. Now what I can do is ask if you have any papers?"

"Papers? Oh. No. I don't have any papers sir."

The policeman groans and puts out his cigar.

"How old do you think you are now?"

"I guess I'm 18 years old."

He looks right at me.

"Of course you are. That's going to make this a little difficult."

He pulls out a blank birth certificate.

"Ok. We've had plenty of safe haven babies brought here without any papers. So my job's to make 'em papers so they can get stuff done in the world."

I just watch him get his pen ready.

"Why did you say that about my age?"

"Because unless you have proof of your age, you could still be viewed as being part of the system. So it's best I fill this out now while you still have ambiguity on your side."

"Oh. I guess it does make sense."

The policeman picks up his pen.

"So. Name?"

"Oh. Deke Rivers."

I watch him write it down. Him easily accepting that as my name on one hand feels great. On the other hand, I feel like I betrayed my birth parents by getting rid of the only thing I have of them. But I know I can't be holding onto that anymore. This birth certificate is how I can make a new start.

"Assumed date of birth?"

"Um. Let's go with July 7th, 1935."

The policeman writes that down. Somethin about that date just feels right.

"I know you're an orphan but do you have any clue on who your parents are?"

"No sir. All I ever had was my birth name."

He sighs.

"I'll have to put it down as unknown. As for place of birth, I'll have to put it down as right here in McKinney, Texas. You can get this registered with the state."

I can only nod. I'm just amazed that after all this time, I finally have paper to my name.

"There you go. I can take ya to the courthouse. That's where you get your state ID card. You'll need that for a lot of things in life."

"Oh. Yes sir!"

I start to feel hope that my life is finally coming together. I follow the policeman to his car.

"By the way, do you feel like you need to go to the hospital from what happened?"

I really think about it. I think about doctors and nurses pokin me. Then I shake my head.

"No sir. I think I'll be ok. Thank you for helpin me get my papers situated."

He nods and drives me to the courthouse. I walk with the policeman up to the man at the counter. By the time we finish all the paperwork, it's 8 pm and I'm hungry. The policeman drives me to a bus station and hands me a sandwich.

"Here you go, Deke. This'll hold ya over while you wait for the bus to Kansas City."

"Thank you sir."

I start to eat the sandwich and I almost cry. It's a warm BLT with the perfect amount of mayonnaise. I'm so thankful that this nice officer's taking his time to stay with me until the bus arrives. It makes me feel so cared for.

"Well there's your bus."

I look up and see the bus stop.

"Thanks again for the sandwich."

I shake the policeman's hand.

"Good luck Deke. I really mean it."

I smile and mouth thank you as I go to board the bus.

"One way trip to Kansas City, Missouri."

I nod and pay my bus fair. The doors close behind me as I take a seat at the back of the bus. It's gonna be a long trip and I wanna get some sleep. I don't know what I'll do once I get there but for now I'll just get some sleep.

Time Skip

"Hey pal get up. It's the end of the line."

I yawn and stretch as I wake up. I can't believe I slept through the bus ride all night. Now I'm scared of what I'll do next. Either way I have to get off the boat and count how much money I have.

"$45. At least it's somethin. I can get breakfast now."

It's just my luck that there's a diner just down the street. I step inside and take a seat in a booth. A waitress hands me a menu.

"Passing through stranger?"

"Uh no ma'am. I'm plannin on makin a new start here."

She pulls out her notepad and pencil.

"Now then what can I get ya honey?"

I close the menu.

"Well uh what do you recommend?"

"We have a steak and egg special for only $3.99. It's your choice of egg and comes with a side of hash browns and a fruit bowl."

I think it over and it sounds like a reasonable amount of food for only $3.99.

"Alright, I'll have that then with sunny side up eggs."

She writes it down on her note pad.

"What do you want to drink?"

"Just some coffee please."

She pours me some coffee and sets down some cream.

"Be out in a minute darlin."

She takes the menu and I try not to shudder at the pet names. I'm not in that house anymore.

"Order up."

I look up when I hear the bell ding. My waitress comes up to me with my food.

"Enjoy your meal. You can pay when you're ready darlin."

She sets my bill down and pours some more coffee.

"Thanks ma'am."

She walks away and leaves me with my food. I start with my steak first. Somethin tells me I'm gonna need the protein. I take a look at my bill as I eat and I see that it's only $4.75. I try to figure out what I oughta tip my waitress and decide to use a $5 for the bill. That'll give me a quarter in change and I can just use that with $1 as her tip. This is the first time I've ever had to figure out a tip so I hope what I'm giving her's enough.

"Uh ma'am here's the money for my bill. Keep the change."

"Thank you. Hope you come again."

I nod as I go back outside. I wander the streets for a couple hours and try to give the appearance of knowing where I'm going. I stop at the crosswalk and see a pawn shop across the street. There's a guitar up for sale in the window. I cross when it's safe to do so and talk to the owner.

"Excuse me sir, I saw that guitar in the window. How much is it?"

"Well how much ya got?"

I don't like havin to lie but I really need to save my money in case I can't get a job right away.

"I've only got $5."

"Tell ya what. If you watch the store while I'm out to lunch, I'll let you have it free. It's a wooden piece of junk so I was about to throw it away. You'll be doing me a favor."

My eyes widen. I'm gettin a good deal. I look around the store and feel that it's safe enough to watch it alone.

"Ok I can do that. Thank you, sir."

"Alright pal we got a deal. I'll be back by 1."

I smile as I go behind the counter. The owner leaves and I'm alone in the store. I count how much money I have after the breakfast and realize I have $35 left. I put it away and try to figure out how to make it last as long as possible. I hear the door open and see the owner come in.

"Well the place ain't burned to the ground. I'd say ya filled your end of the deal. Any customers come by while I was gone?"

I smile as I come out from behind the counter.

"No sir. I came a close eye on things the whole time. Nobody came by."

"Alright then the guitar's yours. If you wanna make it a career your best bet's to start with the Country Club Plaza. It's one of the hottest places in town."

I grab the guitar and shake his hand.

"Thank you for the advice, sir. I'll be on my way then."

I walk out of the pawn shop and try to find my way to the Country Club Plaza. Along the way, I become a street performer so I can build up some money. By the time I get to the Country Club Plaza, I end up having a total of $50.

"Alright, Deke. Time to give it your best shot."

I walk inside to try talking with the owner.

"So you're a guitar player?"

"Yes sir I am."

He looks through his papers.

"I have an afternoon group coming in a half hour. You get one song as an audition for the opening act. If I like what you do, we can talk about your pay in my office."

"Thank you sir."

I go backstage and start to practice my best material. I'm still not the greatest guitar player, but I make up for it with spirit.

"And now ladies and gentleman. Before we start our main show, I'm auditioning a new act for one song. Let's give a round of applause for Deke Rivers."

He turns to me as if to say "you're on kid." I get on stage and look out into the audience. I start to sing one of the only songs I know. It's a very lively song that the audience mostly loves. I can barely hear someone saying I'm not Hank Williams but I don't feel discouraged.

"Bravo, bravo."

I'm glad the audience loved my song, but the owner comes up to me not looking happy at all. He drags me backstage and grabs my guitar.

"Get out!"

"But. But they liked my song."

He starts pushing me out the door.

"I will not be having this devil's music in my club!"

I try to get my guitar back but he keeps it out of my reach.

"Get out! Get out! Get out!"

I end up outside on my butt as the owner closes the door. Once again, I've been rejected just when I thought I found the right job. I sit down at the nearest bench. I know I still have $50 but that can't possibly last forever.

"Excuse me son."

I look up and see a man come up to me.

"Yes sir?"

"I was in the audience during your song. I'm very sorry about getting kicked out like that."

I can only sigh.

"You don't need to be sorry. I wish I knew what I did wrong with the owner."

"Yes I didn't want to rub it in. What I did want to do is offer you a job."

I don't want to get my hopes up but I look up at him.

"As a singer?"

"Well no. Not as a singer."

I sigh and rub my face. I start talking to myself when I hear the man sigh.

"I know a guy in St. Louis who works at a junkyard. He's been complaining about an old Ford Model A taking up space. If you're up to it, I can send a telegram that you'll help him."

I look up at him and see that he's serious.

"Oh. Yeah. I. I can help with that the best I can."

"Splendid. I believe Howie's willing to give it to you if you can fix it."

My eyes widen at that. I've never had a car before. If Howie does want to give it away, I'd love to have it.

"I'd love to do it. Do you have the address?"

"Oh yes I'll write it down. By the way do you have money to get there?"

I realize that things went wrong by lyin. So I decide to tell him the truth even if it means not havin as much money.

"I have about $50. Will that be enough to get to St. Louis?"

"Oh yes. The train can take you there easily."

He hands me a piece of paper with the address.

"Thank you sir. I really appreciate it."

"No problem at all. I best be on my way to send that telegram. Good luck."

I watch him leave as I decide to take the chance and call for a cab. I just hope my luck will change for the better.

Time Skip

As soon as I get to St. Louis, my boss Howie's already waiting for me at the train station. Even though I never met him until now, he's holding a sign with my name on it.

"Hi. Are you Howie?"

"That's right. Are you Deke?"

I shake his hand.

"Yes sir. I appreciate this offer."

"I have lunch at the junkyard. My car's just outside the station."

I nod and follow Howie outside and get into his car. The drive to the junkyard wasn't long at all. I immediately get to work after eating lunch. Even though I don't have any experience working on cars, Howie's surprisingly very patient with me. After only a couple weeks, I managed to get the hang of going through the trash.

"Deke I'm taking stuff to the scrapyard. You're on break while I'm gone."

"Thanks Howie."

He drives off with the truck while I spend my break drinking a coke. I look over the Model A when a couple garbagemen come in and unload some trash.

"Howie off to the scrapyard again?"

"Yeah. He just left about 5 minutes ago."

They look over my work.

"How's the car coming along?"

"It's comin along. I still got a long ways to go, but I hope I'm gonna get it runnin at some point."

They start gettin back in the truck.

"Well you know what to do. Good luck."

"Thanks. I'm sure I'll get it done soon enough."

They leave and I get back to the shed for some tools. I hear Howie come back and I see him holding a bag.

"Eat up, Deke. We got a lot to look through today."

I grab a sandwich out of the bag.

"Thanks for the sandwich Howie."

I start eating while I look over the pile of trash that we need to get through. I can tell by lookin at it, this is gonna take a while.

"Well Deke what do you think?"

"I think there's gotta be somethin we can use for the car here. We just gotta keep diggin through this pile until we find it."

When we finish our sandwiches we open up the first trash bag.

"Alright be careful now. Can't have you getting tetanus."

"Oh yeah I'll be careful."

By the time the sun goes down we manage to get through the entire pile. Howie goes into his office while I wipe the sweat off my face.

"Alright Deke it's pay day. Come get your cut."

I walk into the office as he hands me some money.

"We had a great week with the scrapyard. Made a lot of money on the metal."

"Thanks Howie. Today was a pretty good day. I found a couple spark plugs and some hoses too. Maybe if we fix them, we can use it for the Model A."

"Alright then we can work on it tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning. You know where the key is."

I wave as I go to the garage and grab the key to my room. Thanks to Howie lettin me stay here, I've been able to save another $20. Even though it's only a wooden shed with nothing but a cot in it, I'm very thankful to have this room at all. This has been my best job yet. Maybe I can dream about driving a Model A. Either way as soon as I lay down I fall asleep.

"Bang. Bang. Bang."

I wake up early the next morning to Howie knocking on my door.

"Deke there's a storm coming. We gotta get the car into the garage."

"Alright I'll try gettin it into neutral."

I go over to the Model A and try to start the ignition. I managed to get it done.

"Howie I got it!"

"Good now keep the wheel steady while I push."

Since the garage isn't that far we easily manage to get the car into the garage.

"Howie I'm nervous about shuttin it off now. The engine sounds like it's runnin perfectly for once."

Howie listens to the Model A as it runs.

"I'd shut it off so we can work on the brakes after breakfast. Once this storm passes we can give it a test run to the gas station."

"Alright I'll shut it off. I can't believe we're this close to gettin this car fixed."

I shut off the engine. It sounded good shutting off so me and Howie rush back to his office for breakfast.

"I think this storm should pass soon. A heavy rain like this usually does."

"How do you think the brakes'll work if we drive it today?"

Howie thinks it over as he makes some eggs.

"I'll take it slow on the brakes. If it can't handle wet conditions it'll start to skid."

I nod as he hands me a plate.

"Thanks. I'm so excited that we might've actually done it."

"I get it. You spent a lot of time helping me work on it. It's always worth the effort if you can get it to work."

As soon as we finish eatin the sun starts to come out.

"Alright Deke grab a towel. We need to make sure the brakes are as dry as possible."

I put the plate in the sink and grab a ratty towel as we head back out to the garage. As soon as we make sure the brakes are dry, Howie gets in the driver's seat.

"Get on in. I'll take her to the gas station and see how she runs."

I climb into the passenger seat. Howie starts the ignition and I'm relieved to hear it start smoothly again.

"That's a good sign."

"Now let's test this on the open road."

Howie starts to drive us to the gas station and back. The whole time I'm shakin like a leaf. When we make it back to the junkyard, Howie turns off the engine.

"Well Deke you did it. She runs like a dream."

I start beamin.

"You really think so?"

"Sure. For this car's age it's as smooth as can be. So long as you don't slam on the brakes, there's not a thing wrong with it."

I can hardly believe it. I actually fixed this car. I did it.

"Now then I have a question for you."

"What is it?"

"Do you have a driver's license?"

I start to feel very nervous. I hope this isn't a trap but I have to be honest since honesty got me this job.

"No sir. I never had the chance to get one. Do I need anythin outside of an ID to get one? I have one from Texas if that helps."

"Alright then I'll help you get one. After all you're gonna be keeping this car."

I look up at him.

"You mean it?"

"That was our deal. You fixed the car so you get to keep it. You saw that I have plenty of cars here already. This is just taking up space."

I shake Howie's hand.

"Thank you. I'll do my best."

"That's all I can ask for Deke."

After many months I finally get my driver's license. Howie let me drive us back to the junkyard after buying me dinner and takes me to his office.

"Well Deke, I'm gonna have to let you go."

As much as it's sad to be jobless again, I feel good this time. Howie's done so much for me. I knew this job was only temporary and managed to make the best out of it.

"I understand. Thank you for everythin, Howie. There is just one last thing I wanna ask you."

"Oh? What is it?"

"Is there anyway you can help me last the winter? I only have $120 saved and I don't know where to go next."

Howie thinks before countin out some money.

"All I can do is give you, your final cut of the scrapyard trip totaling $30. I also have an address for a motel at the edge of town. I know it isn't much but it's a start. I'll even let you stay the last night here so you won't be wandering around in the dark."

I take the money.

"Thank you so much."

I wave as I go to the shed one last time. I’m gonna miss this place but I know Howie’s done his best. That’s all I can ever ask for as I fall asleep in my cot one last time.

Time Skip

When I leave the junkyard after my last free breakfast, I buy a road map and get a room at the motel.

“Alright Deke. Time to figure out how to get back to Texas by car without dyin.”

After spendin 2 days at the motel, I figure out a rough idea on where to go. I also decide to take the financial hit and get myself some new clothes.

“Excuse me how much would it cost for a couple shirts, jeans and these shoes?”

The man behind the counter rings it up.

“That’ll be $15.”

I sigh since it could’ve been worse. I pay him the money and immediately put it in a bag.

“Have a good day.”

“Thanks you too.”

I head back to my car and start driving south. I’m already down to $100 and I haven’t even left St. Louis yet. It's not the most ideal situation, but I gotta sleep in my car if I can. Food wise I’m managin to get by. I get somethin to eat when I stop for gas.

“What’ll it be man?”

“I’ll take some chili if you got it.”

The man takes out a metal bottle and pours some in.

“This here’s a thermos. It’s reusable so you can keep it when you’re done with the chili.”

“Sounds good. How much?”

“$5.”

Only $90 left but if this keeps hot things hot I’ll need it.

“I’ll take it.”

I give the man the money and he gives me the thermos. I head back to my car start driving again. Once it gets dark I try to park where I’ll be covered from any snow.

“Ok let’s try this chili.”

I open the thermos and somehow I can see steam comin out. I take a drink and realize it’s still warm.

“Wow. This’ll keep me warm for a while.”

And it did at least for tonight. The next few nights I wasn’t as lucky. One night there was such a horrible storm that I thought I was going to die.

“It’s ok. You’ll get through it. You’ll get through it.”

I end up bein just fine. As soon as I get to Texas I end up in a small town called Delville. It’s not McKinney or Fairview but I’ll take it. I find that I have about $5 left and decide to spend it on food. Now that it’s spring and I’m in Texas I don’t need to worry about stayin dry.

“Howdy all.”

I turn and see a short chubby man come in just after I find a table.

“Howdy.”

He turns to me and sits down at my table.

“Ah ain’t seen ya round these parts. What’re ya here for?”

“I just came back from a long trip up north and I'm just tryin to get myself situated. Is that alright?”

“It sure is. Can’t help but check out the swingin antique outside.”

I look outside and see that he means my car.

“Oh that’s mine. I got it up north in St. Louis a while back and I just spent a few months fixin' her up, bringin' her back here. It took awhile, but I managed to get 'er fixed up real good.”

“Ya mean that’s yer car? Shoot ya got a pretty good deal then.”

After talkin with this man while we eat I start to feel comfortable around him.

“Mah name’s Teddy by the way.”

“My name’s Deke.”

We shake hands.

“So where do ya plan on stayin Deke?”

“I don't know. I didn't really have a plan for that. I was just gonna figure somethin out. You live around these parts?”

He gestures up the road.

“Sure do. Ah work for the Highway Brewery Company.”

“Wow. For how long?”

“Been workin there the past 5 years. It’s a livin and ya get to travel all across the county.”

That sounds like fun to me. Maybe this is how I can make friends like Teddy. I see him look at the clock.

“Well time to start walkin home. Ah got work in the mornin.”

“Oh. Yeah I gotta get goin to.”

The waitress comes by with the bill and I start to pull out my $5.

“Ah don’t worry about the bill. It’s on me.”

“You don’t mind payin?”

“Heck no. You’re the first guy that’s really listened to mah chatter since Ah’ve been comin here so it’s the least Ah can do.”

Teddy looks at the bill and goes to pay it.

“Thank you, Teddy. This ain't somethin' I'm used to.”

“No problem.”

We head outside and I see Teddy startin to walk home. I realize I can’t do that when he’s paid for me.

“Hey, Teddy, wait up a minute.”

“Yeah what’s up Deke?”

I take a deep breath and sigh.

“I was just wonderin if you would let me drive ya home. You got your job and everything, and I don't wanna disrupt that. And it’s the least I can do when you paid for me.”

“You’d really do that? Well if you’re sure then alright.”

We get in the car and I start drivin him home. By the time I find his house it’s too dark to really see anythin.

“Hey thanks for the lift. Now since it’s so late and all Ah was thinkin that ya should just room wit me. Ya don’t have anywhere to go so it’d be wrong for me to let ya be wanderin round by your lonesome.”

I admit I gotta agree with that.

“Ok you’re right. I appreciate ya lettin' me stay with ya.”

He gets out of the car and starts to open his door.

“Now Ah know it’s gonna be small so Ah hope ya don’t mind sharin a bed.”

“Oh, that's no problem for me at all. As long as it's a roof over my head, I'll be more than grateful.”

We head inside and Teddy’s right about it bein small. But it’s still bigger than the shed at Howie’s junkyard. I look up and see Teddy takin off his shirt. Suddenly I’m not in his bedroom anymore but in… that room…

“Deke? Ya awright? Why were ya lookin at me like ya saw a ghost?”

I shake a little and see Teddy in front of me again.

“Yeah. Sorry I was just reminded of somethin.”

“Oh Ah don’t sleep in the buff if that’s whatcha mean. Jus had to change outta mah work clothes.”

He lays down in bed.

“You got anything to change into Deke?”

“Oh. No these are my sleepin clothes. The only other clothes I got are my business clothes so to speak.”

“Awright then. Ya wanna take off your shirt go head. Ah don’t mind.”

I know Teddy doesn’t mean what I think he means but I can’t help but feel a shiver. I take off my shirt and lay down with my back turned to him. I just can’t handle him starin at me like they back-

“Hey man why ya so tense?”

I take a breath and slowly turn my head.

“Sorry I just ain’t used to this sorta thing.”

“What do ya mean?”

I take a full look at Teddy and realize he just doesn’t think somethin awful like what I’m about to say can ever happen. So I tell him in a way that he can understand.

“Oh. Ah think Ah’m puttin together what yer sayin.”

I can’t even look at him. I’m so used to bein judged and I just know it’s gonna happen.

“Well Ah’m just a normal guy Deke. Ah ain’t gonna be touchin ya while ya sleep.”

I look up at Teddy and for some reason I believe him.

“Yeah. I know. I was just rememberin what happened back then.”

“Ah think Ah get it now. Just try calmin down so ya fall asleep.”

I start by layin down next to him. After takin some deep breaths I feel myself dozin off. I think bein with Teddy helped me out because I wake up curled against him. I start to feel scared when I hear him wakin up.

“Mornin Deke.”

He gets up as if nothin happened.

“Morning.”

“Listen Ah gotta get to work. Yer free to whatever’s in the fridge for breakfast.”

I sit up and put my shirt back on.

“Alright thanks.”

“No problem Deke. Where do ya plan on workin?”

I remember that I never figured that out myself.

“Oh. I was thinkin of lookin around town after breakfast and see what’s open.”

“Awright then. See ya later.”

I wave as Teddy leaves to go to work at the Brewery. I make good on trying to get a job and look around town before heading home. I figure that if I’m gonna stay here I should at least make dinner.

“Deke Ah got good news for ya.”

I look up from the stove.

“Really? What’d you hear?”

“Tomorrow ya got a meetin wit mah boss.”

I turn the gas off so I don’t burn myself.

“Your boss?”

“Yeah Ah took yer car today and the boss liked it so much Ah told em it was yours. Gives the company a classic look. So he said he wanted to meet wit ya tomorrow.”

I can barely stand so I sit down in the chair.

“Y-You really got me a meeting with the boss… over my car…?”

“All ya gotta do is drive us to the brewery and go to the boss’s office.”

I can’t even believe it that Teddy managed to make it happen for me. I hope it’s not some type of trick.

“Thanks a million Teddy. You did me a real favor.”

“Ah don’t worry about it. It ain’t like you ain’t returnin the favor makin me dinner like this.”

I look back at the stove top.

“Oh.”

I get out of my chair and finish cookin. After makin two plates I sit back down at the table.

“Thanks Deke.”

We start eatin and I ponder how this will work out. In the end it ended up bein exactly what I needed. Even though it was a bumpy road I made a good friend in Teddy. I end up meetin a nice girl named Susie and become one of the biggest names in the music industry. Lookin back I know I had a sad, horrible beginning but now I finally lived up to the name Deke Rivers. I can sleep peacefully now as all of the pain I experienced is gone. Finally I’m at peace.

Tagging: @arrolyn1114, @peskybedtime, @smokeymountainboy, @vintagepresley, and @thelonelyheart.

[tyblackthornsheadphones]

Hello hun!

I just saw your masterlist and characters you write for and saw that you write for Sal Singh omgg! I'm so in love with that man istg 😭

I was wondering if you'd write a Sal Singh x fem reader best friends to lovers arc. She's a party girl, reckless and carefree and Sal is the responsible and cautious best friend that is always there to keep her in line. Until seeing her with other guys at calamity parties makes him realize how jealous he is and how he truly feels about her.

Feel free to reject or ignore the request or change anything about it if you do decide to write it 😊

Hope you have a wonderful day/night. Take care 💕

~ XOXO, Els 💌

me? responding to an ask four months later? it's more likely than you think. i will be writing a part two to this that'll follow along more with the request but i had to first plant the idea in sal's mind that he could see her as more than a friend. next part will be him freaking out about it!

cw: fem!reader, drinking, mentioned of sal looking down at her so reader is shorter (but he's canonically 6'1), mention of reader being able to fit into his clothes, mention of reader wearing makeup, this is not proofread and english isn't my first language so beware

You’re way too drunk. It’s the only possible reason for your behaviour. Usually, you’re quite good at keeping your crush on your best friend under wraps (after all, he has a girlfriend, and you’re not going to be a homewrecker), but tonight you’re clinging to him like a baby koala, giggling and tripping over your own feet.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Sal says when you try to pull him into dancing with you.

“No,” You pout, “I’m having fun! I wanna st- oh look, Naomi’s here!”

You somehow manage to lose Sal in the time it takes you to reach Naomi. She’s talking to a guy you vaguely recognise, holding a red cup that you steal from her grip as you throw yourself onto the couch. You end up sitting half in her lap.

“This is gross,” You tell her after taking a sip of her drink, shoving the cup back into her hands.

“I don’t actually know what’s in here,” Naomi says, shrugging, “Max gave it to me.”

You feel hands on your waist and then you’re being pulled off Naomi and to your feet. You turn around, ready to yell at whoever thought they could just grab you without your consent, but soften immediately when you see Sal’s frowning face.

One of his hands is still on your waist, and with the blaring music sounding in your ears, cutting off the conversations happening around you, you feel as if he’s the only other person in the world. He’s beautiful in the dim lighting, hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at you, lips pulled down into the serious expression he always seems to wear around you. You wish he would smile at you more, smile at you the way he smiles at Andie.

“I’m going to bring you home,” He says, and you can only nod uselessly in response.

-

He ends up bringing you back to his house, not yours as you had assumed. He presses his hand to your mouth when you can’t stop giggling, whispering that you'll wake his parents and brother, and leads you up the stairs to his room. You’ve been there before, of course you have, you’ve been best friends for years, but it always feels like a privilege when he opens the door for you, letting you into his sanctuary, his safe space.

He shuts the door quietly behind him, helping you sit on his bed, and then he’s digging through his dresser to find you something to wear to sleep. 

“Here,” He says as he tosses you one of his worn t-shirts. The fabric is soft and it smells like him; you want to bury your face into it and never let go. “Can you change by yourself?”

You scoff at the insinuation, telling him to turn around (though you really don’t want him to) while you get changed. It takes you a while to untie the complicated bows that hold together the flimsy material of what barely resembles a shirt, but you manage, pulling Sal’s shirt over your head with a triumphant sound.

“Good job,” He says, half-sarcastically, but his voice is soft and your stomach flutters at the praise.

He leads you to the bathroom where you jump up onto the counter while he pulls out a box labelled with your name. You’ve done this song and dance before, so many times that he’s started keeping makeup wipes and your favourite skincare products in his house for when you come over unprepared.

He’s standing in between your legs, gently wiping off your makeup, his face so close to yours that you could lean forward and kiss him, when you speak next. 

“You should be doing this with Andie.” You tell him, “I’m not your girlfriend.”

“No,” He agrees, “But you’re my best friend.”

Something in your chest aches at hearing him say those words. You know he’ll never reciprocate your feelings, it’s something you’ve resigned yourself to, but it still hurts. Tears well in your eyes and you blink them away, feeling pathetic. After all, you were the one who brought it up. What did you expect?

“What’s wrong?” He says, cupping your face, always so kind.

You shake your head, “You need to stop treating me like I’m your girlfriend. It hurts.”

He pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes, looking dumbfounded. 

“What do you mean?”

Your drunk brain takes a while to catch up with your mouth, and you slap your hand over your mouth when you realise what you just said. You push him off and away from you as you run out of the bathroom, stopping at the top of the stairs before realising that you have nowhere to go. Your house isn’t very far from Sal’s, but it’s far enough that it would be dangerous to walk back in your half-drunken, mostly undressed state.

So you head back to Sal’s room, pretending to be asleep when he comes in a few minutes later, holding your breath when he slips into bed beside you. You’re still awake when his breathing evens out, staring at the ceiling, cursing yourself, and vowing to yourself that tomorrow morning you’ll pretend you were so drunk you can’t remember a thing.

[dilfdemolisher]

PERSEPHONE - CHAPTER TWO

“Persephone, queen of the underworld. Hades runs Hell, but she’s in charge of punishment.”

Series Summary: A serial killer who works with the police herself has a tumultuous past with Jack Crawford and his new profiler Will Graham. While trying to rebuild what she once broke Hannibal Lecter sticks himself in the middle of the few things she cares about - Comments and critiques are encouraged.

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, dead bodies, reference to suicide, drug addiction and homelessness. Slightly comedic drug deal, plentiful of awkward tension and angst

Word Count: 7.5k - thank you endlessly to the amazing @whipitgod for helping me edit this, there's no words to describe how appreciative I am for you to give your time to oversee my writing, but I hope a thank you can suffice<3

You step out of your taxi, the Nichol’s home ahead of you. You can feel the sorrowful atmosphere of their house emanating from down the street. You requested that the driver drop you off far from the residence. At the time, it sounded smarter; you could be the one to walk up to Will and Jack, who're standing just outside the house. You could be the one to confidently initiate conversation, making it seem like the past two years haven't happened and that you've moved on. But now that your theory is in practice, you feel much more cowardly.

As you take your steps forward, Jack looks at you with a sharp nod. Will, whose back is facing you, whips his head around and makes eye contact with you. His face was already so emotionless, but you swear it drops more. You're sure he knew you were coming; Jack only replied to your text with, “See you soon”. But there's no way he didn't know you were coming, so he’s just upset to see you.

You can’t blame him, you left. Hell, you're upset to see him, not because he did anything but because he reminds you of what you’ve done. Not only that, but you know if he saw the bloody amalgamation you are now, something that so closely emulates but is just uncanny and hollow enough to be able to feel something's off. He’d be disgusted.

Embarrassment tightens its grip around you as your hand hesitantly lifts for a feeble wave. Will fully pivots his body around to face you.

“Hi.” You shamefully mumble, the weight of your own self-doubt pressing down on every syllable. Fuck, this was going so much better in your head. 15 minutes ago, you were so sure of yourself that you could approach with confidence, but now this feels mortifying.

You can see the thoughts jumble in Will's head. He’s not sure if he should speak or if he even wants to.

Behind you, Jack emits an exasperated sigh, his footsteps signaling his retreat toward the home. With a final glance at Will, you follow your temporary boss.

With three loud, deliberate knocks, Jack announces your presence at the doorstep of the grieving parents' house. Inside, a symphony of shuffling feet accompanies the opening of the door, revealing a man—presumably Elise's father and his wife—standing closely behind him.

“I’m Jack Crawford, I'm with the BAU; we’re here to discuss your daughter, Elise Nichols.” Jack says, keeping his voice stoic and stable.

The father's eyebrows shoot up in recognition. "Oh yes, of course, of course. Um, who are you?" He inquires, his gaze flickering between you and Will. You hear Will take a sharp breath inward and speak, “I’m a Special Agent.” He manages, his discomfort evident.

“Oh yes, yes.” The mother chimes in; her eyes linger on you.

"I specialize in forensics," you offer with a warm smile, hoping to ease the tension. However, the warmth quickly dissipates as their expressions falter into fear, immediately assuming the worst. "I, um, also dabble in profiling, but officially, I'm in forensics.”

Jack exhales audibly, breaking the awkward silence. "Shall we step inside?" he suggests, his tone firm.

The parents retreat slightly, allowing space for you all to enter. "Yes, of course," they murmur in unison, their desperation evident in their every movement, a silent plea echoing in their eyes for the return of their beloved daughter.

“Take a seat.” The woman says,

"We'll stand, but thank you. Please feel free to get comfortable," Jack replies courteously, closing the door behind him with a soft click, sealing off the outside world and enclosing them within the cocoon of grief that suffocates the room.

The father makes a few unintelligible noises before putting himself together and starting to speak. “She could have gone off by herself. She was a very interior young woman. She didn’t like living in a dorm. I could see how the pressure of school might have gotten to her. She likes trains. Maybe she just got on a train and… ” He trails off, uncertain.

Will's gaze drifts downward to his boots as the mother timidly adds, “She looks like the other girls.”

"She fits the profile," Jack asserts matter-of-factly, punctuating his statement with a nod of affirmation.

Mr. Nichols looks at Jack and asks, “Could Elise still be alive?” He ventures, desperation lacing his voice.

“We simply have no way of knowing.” Jack says. You don't know how he does it, not console. Maybe it’s because he does not need to be performative; maybe it’s because it’s so natural for him, like it used to be for you.

“How’s the cat?” Will interjects. Oh, how you’ve missed hearing his voice.

Both of the parents look entirely confused. “What?”

“How’s your cat?” Will repeats, his tone gentle yet insistent, “Elise was supposed to feed it. Was the cat weird when you came home? It didn’t eat all weekend, it must have been hungry.” He explains.

The Nichols look at each other, confused for a moment, unsure of how to respond, “I didn’t notice.” Says the husband.

With a subtle nod to Jack, Will gestures for him to follow as they move aside, their conversation veering into a more discreet realm. You don't join; you figure Will would rather keep his distance from you. They take a few steps away before Will begins speaking. “He took her from here.” Will says low. You hear both of the parents gasp as he continues his. “She got on a train. She came home. She fed the cat. And he took her.”

Jack pulls out his phone and starts to dial immediately. “The Nichols house is a crime scene. I need an ERT immediately. Zeller, Katz, Jimmy Price.”

In response, the couple springs to their feet; their agitation is palpable. "Would you mind if I took a look at your daughter's room?" You inquire politely.

Mr. Nichols steps forward and says. “The police have been in and out of there all day.” He says exasperated.

“That's fine.” You reassure. “I’m not necessarily looking for evidence or DNA. I just want to see it to get a better understanding of her. If you don't mind, bringing my kit is really just a formality.” You explain while giving it a pat.

The father remains silent, offering only a nod as he leads the way. You follow closely, your hand delving into your bag to retrieve a pair of gloves. A glance over your shoulder reveals Will doing the same, his movements mirroring yours with quiet efficiency. Brief, awkward eye contact passes between you before both of you swiftly redirect your gazes, focusing on the father who stands sentinel before his daughter's bedroom door, a silent guardian of her sanctuary.

With a steadying breath, you address him, "May we enter, sir?" You sense the gravity of the situation settling upon him, the realization dawning that this is no longer a mere inquiry from the local authorities but a visitation from the FBI.

As the father reaches for the doorknob, Will intervenes. “I’ll get that. Mr. Nichols, would you put your hands in your pockets and avoid touching anything, please?” He instructs, his words tinged with a hint of frustration.

“Oh. My wife and I have been in and out all day.” So the police never told you not to contaminate your daughter's crime scene. Great.

“You can hold that cat if it’s easier.” Says Will.

With gloved hands, you turn the knob and push open the door, the hallway light spilling into the dimly lit room. Elise's form lies motionless on her bed, her peaceful repose. Her greying body faces the ceiling and her arms are by her side, belying the tragedy that has befallen her.

Her father utters her name, his voice thick with emotion. Both you and Will quickly turn to face him, with Will raising a gloved hand to halt any further movement from the father.

There's a glimmer of hope in Mr. Nichols' eyes as he calls out for his daughter. “Elise?” A desperate plea for the impossible to be true, for his daughter to awaken from this nightmare and return to him unharmed.

You’re uncertain of the appropriate response when a parent finds their previously missing teenage daughter lying dead on her mattress. Though you imagine the best reaction to have is to console him, “I am so sorry, sir,”

You can see the moment reality crashes onto Mr. Nichols, his eyes widening in horror as he takes a shuddering breath, his entire being tensing with anguish. With a hollow thud, the cat slips from his grasp, forgotten at his feet, his gaze cemented on his deceased daughter as you hear Will call for Jack.

2 YEARS EARLIER

The DNA wasn’t a match for the victim, but it was a match for Patrick Glynn; his rap sheet read like a litany of woes—a DUI, allegations of domestic violence, and a trail of police calls marking his descent into chaos. His current whereabouts are unknown. Once a successful businessman fell into drugs after his only child committed suicide, he now spends his time begging his ex-colleges for money to prick a needle into his arm once again. Though, no history of mental illness.

He grew up in an affluent family, got a woman pregnant; they both decided to co-parent and seemed to live a balanced life. Up until his daughter's death, after he had started his affair with drugs. First, what was probably just a rail of coke seemed to spiral out of control as his assistant found a burnt spoon he left on his desk, prompting a drug test that came back overwhelmingly positive. He lost his job, therefore his money, his house, and everything but his sleeping bag that he sleeps on the Virgina streets with. Or should be; he hasn't been seen in weeks.

His peers assumed he was dead, that he'd overdosed somewhere and that his body’s still yet to be found. The question that Jack put into everybody's head is why. Why was Glynn’s DNA at the crime scene?

Jack's voice sliced through the fog of your thoughts. You blink, suddenly aware of the sterile surroundings of the briefing room. Dr. Bloom was chattering about the brains of psychopaths and how some parts of the brain process empathy differently. The monster that was able to commit a crime as heinous as the one you’re all dealing with now would have to be someone so cognitively distant from society.

You shake your head as if you’re trying to remove the needless ramblings from your skull. “Parden?” You murmur, your attention snapping back to the present moment.

Jack clenches his jaw slightly, clearly frustrated by your lack of attention to the matter. “The attachments—were they made pre- or post-mortem?”

“Attachments.” What an odd choice of word you think to yourself. “Everything is indicative of it happening postmortem. The preliminary autopsy also showed severe bruising and ligature marks around the wrists and ankles, which could indicate the victim was bound for periods of time.”

Brian's voice cut through the tension, injecting a note of grim reality into the conversation. "There was content found in the victim's stomach as well. Most of it was fully digested but seems to be all pig feed; there were also signs of dehydration."

Dr. Bloom gives a tight lip smile to the both of you. Something that you assume was just meant to be for acknowledgement but it felt a bit snooty. You're honestly not sure why; it could be you just in your head, still embarrassed from your brief dissociation earlier. Or it could just be her appearance; everything about the doctor looks so sharp. Her cheekbones are prominent, and she has the kind of bone structure that demands attention. Her haircut is shorter and lands just above her collarbone, with dark, blunt layers that surround her head. Her mouth also seems to rest in a frown. It makes sense, though; if you had to pick into the brains of psychopaths for a paycheck, you fear you’d have some sort of permanent scowl on your face as well.

“The victim was missing for five days.” She says while raising her chin. “That suggests an elaborate kill ritual for a serial killer.”

Now that caught your attention. “It was just one body; how do you know it's a serial killer?” You interject, unable to mask your scepticism.

Her face quickly turns to you. “I doubt this was his first kill. Those are usually more spontaneous, this was planned ahead of time and a lot of thought went into it.” The more she speaks, the more confident she grows, though you have to disagree. This could very well be a first kill, just a very well-thought-out, methodical one. You can’t imagine that a first kill from this killer could be sloppy in the slightest.

Despite your reservations, you hold your tongue, deferring to her expertise. After all, she was the psychologist, your job is to stay in a dark little room that's your office.

“I’m thinking we’re looking for someone at least in their 30’s.” She continues, “Intelligent, organised. Takes great pride in his work. I think he’d enjoy the fact that we’re talking about him right now.”

Jack nods in silent agreement before questioning, "You think there will be more?"

"I would be surprised if there aren’t. Any suspects?" Dr. Bloom's inquiry hung in the air.

“Yes.” You respond, the sound emerging a tad too loudly from your mouth. "A drop of Patrick Glynn's blood was discovered at the crime scene, originating from his nasal cavity. It appears to be drug-induced, with traces of cocaine present within the sample."

Jack immediately continues the moment you cease speaking. "Alright, let's broaden our interviews with the victim's friends and coworkers," he declares, his voice commanding attention.

"We need to pinpoint where the victim intersected with the killer." His gaze shifts to you, a silent directive embedded within his eyes. "You stay on the DNA," he directs firmly before exchanging a wordless glance with Bloom. The doctor starts gathering her papers that she previously set down as she speaks. “Thank you,” she says politely before walking out of the room.

Jack's words to you hung in the air like a silent reprimand, a gentle reminder that your role in this investigation was strictly defined. You had a tendency to delve into matters beyond your expertise, often veering into the realm of detective work where your contributions were unnecessary, if not unwelcome.

Dr. Bloom's presence reinforced the point—her expertise in psychology far outweighed your own, and her insights held sway over the collective understanding of the case. Despite your consistent eagerness to lend a hand in cases, Jack's command served as a subtle cue to step back and resist the urge to insert yourself where you didn't belong.

As the others rise from their chairs, departing the briefing room, you settle into yours. You recess into your own thoughts. Frustration simmered in the pit of your stomach, a stubborn defiance against the prospect of being sidelined.

The feeling was born from a sense of injustice, a gnawing resentment at the notion of being replaced. You have poured your heart and soul into assisting with cases, going above and beyond the call of duty in pursuit of justice. You’ve delved into tasks far beyond your designated role, driven by a relentless determination to solve the unsolvable, asking for nothing in return—not even a fucking raise—and Jack does what? Find your replacement the moment you get a little queasy at a crime scene. Bullshit.

You’ve helped in so many aspects of cases that are not your obligation, all for the sake of solving the case. You never even asked for a raise and what? Find your replacement all because you got a little queasy at the crime scene, bullshit.

But to be cast aside so easily, to have your contributions overlooked in favour of someone new—it was a bitter pill to swallow. As you sat in silence, stewing in your frustration, a stubborn resolve took root within you. You may have faltered, but you refused to be sidelined. If he wants to find a replacement for you, he can. You can just do your own detective work off-hours.

PRESENT DAY

You are in the hallway, floundering around, waiting until Will has finished his…thing. It’s a bad habit, you know, but you can’t help but stare at the framed photos in the homes of the victims. A portrait of what once was, before their bodies had begun to decompose. Just a moment of what was forever captured into a rectangle that hangs on the wall.

Jack and Brian hurry past you, their footsteps echoing down the corridor. You feel a fleeting brush of Zeller's coat against yours before he disappears into the victim's bedroom. You can’t help the curiosity that tugs at you, compelling you to follow.

"You’re not supposed to be here." Jack's voice carried through the walls, a sharp reprimand aimed at an unseen intruder. Intrigued, you creep closer, your footsteps soft against the floorboards.

Inside the room, the scene unfolded before you like a macabre tableau. Will, Jack, Brian, and Beverly clustered around the bed, their expressions a mixture of determination and unease. Beverly's voice cut through the tension, her words tinged with excitement as she revealed her findings.

"Found antler velvet in two of the wounds," she announces, her gaze flickering towards the door where you stood. “It seems like she was gored. I was looking for velvet in the other wounds but I was interrupted.” Beverly continues, alluding to Will.

Will's gaze meets yours briefly, his expression inscrutable before he turns away, his attention drawn to the window, looking at the street full of police cars that sit on the street.

“Deer and elk pin their prey, put all their weight on the antlers and try to suffocate them. That’s how they would kill a fox or a coyote.” Brian interjects, his scepticism evident in his tone.

Jack's voice cut through the debate. “Elise Nichols was strangled and suffocated; her ribs were broken.” His words carrying the weight of authority.

“It’s not rutting season,” Brian counters once again, his disbelief evident. “Male deer aren’t competing for female deer this time of year.”

Will ceases his silence and joins the discussion. “Antler velvet is rich in nutrients, it actually promotes healing. He may have put it there on purpose.” His voice pierced the tense atmosphere, words landing with a weight that seemed to reverberate through the room. Each syllable felt like a punch to the gut, a reminder of the strain that had settled between you too.

You were once a sense of comfort around him and now you make him tense. You watch as he stiffens, his body tensing every time he hears the sound of your voice or looks at you. His back straightens and his shoulders rise so close to his ears that you almost wonder if they're going to touch. That's not what you wanted; it’s why you left in the first place. The prospect of death is better than harming Will. You had hoped to spare him from the turmoil that plagued your own path, to shield him from the darkness that was consuming you.

And now that you’ve come back, you realize it was all for nothing. That coming back dug up the grave of what once was between you. Not only that but joining a case that he’s on is like throwing the dirt-covered bones of friendship in his face and laughing.

Jack's voice pulls you from your muddled thoughts, “You think he wanted to heal her?”

Will quickly exhales; a subtle tremor runs through his body, a sign of his nervous system struggling to find equilibrium. It was a reflexive response, a subconscious attempt to quell the rising tide of tension that threatened to overwhelm him. You know it's from the entirety of the situation that's been placed on all your laps yet, despite the rational understanding of the external pressures at play, a nagging sense of guilt gnaws at you like a dog with a bone. It’s a persistent voice in the back of your mind, whispering accusations of fault and responsibility.

Jack's words cut through the somber atmosphere. “He put her back where he found her.”

Will's gaze remained fixed on Elise's body, his eyes holding a haunted expression as he spoke, “Whatever he did to the others, he couldn’t do it to her.”

“Is this his golden ticket?” The detective asks Will.

“No.” He shakes his head, his gaze never leaving Elise's still form. “This is an apology.”

The word hung in the air, an apology. It's caught in Will's throat like a bitter pill. He ran a hand over his forehead, the strain of the moment etched into the lines of his face. "Does anyone have any aspirin?"

2 YEARS AGO

The victim, Cristopher Myers, seemingly ate himself to death. His stomach was abnormally large, even for a man his size and the interior wall had been ripped open. He had food shoved down his throat till he almost burst, though the cause of death was actually sepsis from the unhygienic and faulty procedures the man went through.

A one-of-a kind kill, and yet you’re tasked with doing blood work for a case where a woman was stabbed by her boyfriend, who was seen covered in blood, driving away from the scene when you could be giving your insight into this case off hours.

Despite Jack's request, you’ve been diving into the case. And something good came out of it—you found Glynn’s dealer and were looking at him. You will say that investigating unofficially comes in handy when you don’t need to go about things cautiously and legally to avoid a lawsuit.

As you step out of the safety of the car, the door closes softly behind you, walking into the darkness of the city. Across the street, the figure of Glynn's dealer loomed in the dim light, his back turned to you.

With a cautious glance at both sides of the street, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of amusement at the irony of the situation. Here you are, approaching a known drug dealer who had ties to a suspected murderer, and yet you still find it important to heed the warnings your mother would give to you as a child about road safety.

“Hey!” you shout out to catch his attention. The dealer turns to face you, his hand lingering in his jacket pocket. Good to know he’s probably strapped you suppose.

"Um, are ya’ selling?" You stammer, your confidence faltering in the face of his guarded demeanour. It wasn't the smooth delivery you intended, though; you doubt a junkie looking for a fix wouldn’t be the most cheery.

Drawing closer, his gruff appearance becomes more noticeable in the offcast from the far streetlamps. “Who’s asking?”

Summoning all the guile you could muster, you concocted a lie on the spot. “Me. The dude who usually sells to me just up and disappeared. He mentioned buying from you a couple times so I was hoping you could hook me up.”

You see his guarded demeanour drop for a moment; he hasn't heard from his customer either. “Who?”

“Pat.” You say, hoping the nickname will subtly nod to your nonexistent relationship with a missing man.

His face flashes with recognition. “I ain’t seen Patrick in about,” his eyes trailing up to the sky while pondering the time. “Three weeks. I heard him and a few buddies were sleeping at that old school they’re bouta’ tear down.”

“Shit,” you say before you even have time to think. The murder was committed about a week ago, which gives Glynn plenty of time to torture the victim. It’s only circumstantial, but it could be evidence.

Before you had time to fully process the revelation, the dealer's next question brought you back to the task at hand. "What do you want?"

You'd almost forgotten the original purpose of the interaction amidst the whirlwind of information. "Coke," you blurt out, feeling a surge of adrenaline as you watch him sling his backpack onto the sidewalk.

"How much?" he asks, his demeanour shifting to that of a salesman.

“3 grams?” You reply, assuming that's an appropriate amount.

"250,” he says while pulling out three little bags of the white powder, presumably containing a gram each. The little bags are honestly kind of cute despite the illicit substances in them, you think to yourself while grabbing the cash out of your pocket. You’re out of tens and fives, only having twenties so just give him an extra ten.

As he begins to count the cash, you see his eyebrows furrow and his mouth open to begin to speak, but instead you seize the opportunity to make a swift exit. You grab the little bags out of his hand before walking away and calling out over your shoulder, "Keep the change!" with a forced cheeriness that felt out of place in the shadowy alleyway.

As you settle into the driver's seat and discreetly stash the bags of drugs in the glove compartment, a sense of urgency gnaws at the edges of your consciousness. There's a task at hand, a lead to pursue, and time is of the essence. You can deal with disposing of the drugs later. Right now, you punch the address of the old middle school into your GPS, the soft glow of the screen illuminating the dim interior of the car. You’ve got to give it to him; the abandoned school isn't the worst place to hide out. It’s due to be torn down soon, then rebuilt in the spring once the snow is gone.

As you shift the car into drive, a fleeting thought tugs at the corners of your mind—a debate over whether to inform Jack of your newfound information. You’re unsure whether to call Jack to relay your new-found information, but you're also not sure how to explain it. You suppose it’s best to keep your findings to yourself for now.

In the front of the school, doors that were once chained shut have silver chains laid tossed aside on the ground. You step cautiously through the school's entrance, your footsteps muffled by the thick layer of dust that coats the floor. The air hangs heavy with the scent of neglect, and the silence is broken only by the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards.

As you venture deeper into the deserted corridors, your flashlight illuminates the remnants of a forgotten institution of learning—classrooms with broken desks and peeling paint, a library with shelves barren of books, and a gymnasium echoing with the ghosts of past games. It’s the gym where you find who you’re looking for.

The stench of death and decay hangs heavy in the air as you take in the sight before you. Patrick Glynn's lifeless form lies sprawled on the gym floor, surrounded by a display of blood-filled jars.

Your mind reels with horror and revulsion at the sight, struggling to comprehend the sheer depravity of what you're witnessing. Each jar is filled to the brim with crimson liquid, the sickening smell of iron mingling with the musty air of the abandoned school.

As you approach closer, the beam of your flashlight reveals the true extent of the horror. Glynn's body is covered in shallow cuts and abrasions, and his skin is mottled with bruises and contusions. It's clear that he endured a torturous ordeal before meeting his untimely demise.

But what truly sends a shiver down your spine is the realization that these jars of blood are not simply a gruesome decoration. No, his scenes are art pieces, exhibits of brutality. Each one a testament to the lives he has taken and the souls sacrificed at the altar of his twisted desires.

You hastily grab the phone out of your jacket pocket, shakily calling Jack. Before he can even greet you, you stop him and say, "Please don’t be upset with me.”

Jack's voice crackles through the phone, his tone tinged with concern. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Your heart races as you struggle to find the words to convey what you've just found. "I found Glynn… He's dead," you manage to choke out, your voice trembling with emotion. "But it's not just that—oh God, Jack, you have to see it for yourself."

There's a pregnant pause on the other end of the line as Jack absorbs the gravity of your words. “Where are you?”

You clear your throat before speaking, “Um, it’s an abandoned middle school outside of Fredericksburg; there's a high school right by it and it's all near a golf club. No one is in the building. He—the killer—left him here for us to find.”

"Just stay put, okay? Don't do anything else." He says firmly.

You nod, even though he can't see you. The weight of the situation presses down on you like an anchor. "I won't," you promise, though you think it’s a bit too late for it. As you end the call and tuck your phone back into your pocket, you can't shake the feeling of dread that hangs over you.

You feel the two parts of your brain clashing once again. There's a piece of you that's terrified and absolutely disgusted by what's in front of you. And the other part of you, the part that you bury. But you can't help but visually devour the awful scene in front of you.

You’re shaking and can feel the adrenaline flow through your veins with each pump of your heart. But that's it; it’s adrenaline, not fear.

You lower yourself to the cold floor beside him, the lines of the basketball court below you. With trembling hands, you reach out to touch one of the blood-filled jars, the cool glass sending a shiver down your spine as you trace its contours. There's a morbid fascination that grips you, compelling you to study every detail of the scene before you, even as your stomach churns with revulsion.

You can feel the conflicting emotions warring within you—the terror and disgust warring with the dark, primal curiosity that lurks deep within your psyche. You pick up the jar with your mitten-covered hand and tilt the jar to the side to see the dark liquid shift inside the glass.

Curiosity is the true reason for your career choice—an insatiable hunger to uncover the unknown. And blood is the most honest way of doing that. Blood is the body’s truth.

PRESENT DAY

The clock ticks past two in the morning as you guide your car into Will's driveway. The ride from the airport in Baltimore had been long and tiresome, but there was a pressing matter that couldn't wait—the need to speak with Will.

You had intended to catch up with him after wrapping up your tasks for the night, but he scurried out immediately, leaving you with no choice but to make the impromptu trip.

You see Will on his front porch, staring at his pack. You figured he’d be up tonight; you know him well enough. You understand how he becomes consumed by swimming in the minds of the worst of the worst.

The dogs bark upon your arrival, seeming to snap Will out of whatever haze he’s in. You have the same vehicle so you know he recognizes you. You inhale through your nose and exhale out of your mouth as you shift the gear into park.

With a steady breath, you swing open the car door, the cool night air washing over you like a balm. "Hi," you offer tentatively, raising your hand in greeting.

Will's reaction is a study in mixed emotions—confusion, perhaps tinged with a hint of apprehension. You can't blame him; after all, your unannounced arrival at this hour is bound to raise questions, if not suspicions. And you’re the one who left and didn’t give a reason; you’re the one who acted like he didn’t exist.

You stand there, on the threshold between darkness and light, uncertainty hanging heavy in the air. He stands up and walks towards the porch stairs, leaving his old wooden chair behind him. “What are you doing here?”

You offer a nonchalant shrug; the weight of your impromptu journey suddenly feels much heavier. "I was just driving around," you reply, a touch of evasion in your tone.

"Driving around in the middle of the night, two and a half hours away from Baltimore?" Will raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips

You meet his gaze steadily, the truth hanging in the air between you. "I felt like I had to see you," you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Will's expression softens, a flicker of understanding passing over his features. "And what? You never did before," he challenges gently, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and frustration.

"I didn't think you'd want to see me, but now I’m here anyway and I think we should talk," you blurt out, the words tumbling from your lips in a rush. "I think that's what people are supposed to do in awkward situations."

Still, Will remains silent, his expression inscrutable, as he waits for a better explanation and a clearer reason for your sudden appearance.

"Fuck," you curse under your breath, uncertainty gnawing at your insides. Running a hand through your hair in a gesture of agitation, you can't help but think about how stupid you must look from his perspective and how coming here to mend things in the middle of the night is a terrible fucking idea. "I'm sorry, coming here was a stupid idea," you admit, the words heavy with self-deprecation.

“Yeah, it was.” The softness in Will's voice cuts through the tension like a knife, his words carrying a weight of their own. You meet his gaze, seeing the conflict in his brain reflected in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the awkwardness of the situation.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. You can feel the regret pooling in the pit of your stomach, a reminder of the consequences of your impulsive actions. You knew this was a stupid idea, which is why you hadn't done it earlier.

Without a word, you turn away from Will, retracing your steps back to your car. Just as you're about to slip inside the vehicle, Will's voice breaks through the silence, laced with a quiet vulnerability, "Do you want to come in?"

The invitation hangs in the air, and for a moment, you hesitate, weighing your options. But then, with a sigh, you nod your head, a silent acceptance of the olive branch he’s extended to you.

As you approach, he spins around and swings the front door wide, a welcoming gesture that belies the tension simmering beneath the surface. The dogs, stationed on the deck, wag their tails furiously in greeting, but your attention is drawn to a dark metal crate off to the side, housing a medium-sized dog.

"Who's that?" you inquire, a note of curiosity in your voice.

"Just found him a couple of hours ago and gave him a bath. This is their first meeting.” He points to the rest of his dogs.

“Oh,” you say. Suddenly, the thought of stepping into his house feels overwhelming, almost suffocating. It’s selfish; you shouldn’t be one to be uncomfortable, let alone ask for accommodations. But you know you can’t step into his house and you have to try to mend your relationship.

“Do you want to talk outside? It's not cold; the weathers nice.” You excuse, total lie. You have no idea how Will’s not freezing his ass off in his white tea-shirt and his pants.

He looked taken aback for a moment. He doesn't know how to navigate this either, you think, and he ushers the dogs into the house before closing the door.

You take a seat on his porch steps; he does too after a moment. The silence is so thick around you, it’s nauseating; you feel almost carsick.

“What do you want to know?” You ask, cutting to the chase. You’re sure he has a scroll worth of questions and that it’s more efficient to just cut to the chase.

Without hesitation, he fires back. "What changed?" His blunt tone takes you off guard. "You made it clear you never wanted to speak to me again, and yet you're sitting at my doorstep."

“I still don’t want to speak to you but it’s inevitable now and you deserve answers that I should have given you before.” The words crawl out of your mouth harshly. You’ve never been good at behaving when getting told off, no matter how much you deserve it.

“Why do you think you’re the one who gets to make things right? Did you ever consider that if I wanted to talk to you so badly-to get closure—I would have done it myself?” He snaps. You stare at him for a moment, hoping that his angry words were a momentary burst of frustration. Though the more seconds that past only show that his anger won’t be fleeting, no, this has been festering.

“I know that you think I’m a piece of shit, and I am. But I left because if you saw how awful I’ve become, it would be so much worse than whatever negative image of me you already have in your head.” You admit. You have to look away from his gaze; you’re ashamed in so many ways that you don’t know where to begin or how to apologize.

"Do you want me to leave?" you ask, nervous energy tingling through your fingertips as you pick at the stray dog hair that somehow floated onto your jeans.

“I want a better answer, one that’s not a lie.” He grunts out.

"I wasn't lying," you protest, but he interrupts you, his voice sharp with disbelief. "I don't believe you. You can't tell me you left because you didn't want to be friends anymore. That's too juvenile, even for you."

He’s right; you know he is. It’s just much easier to tell yourself that your move was entirely for Will’s well being, but you know that is for self preservation too. You couldn’t keep up with your new hobby in Quantico, you had to move away. You couldn’t commit the acts that you do with Jack breathing down your neck.

“I’m too different now, Will. You can’t do the things I’ve done and stay the same. And I want you to know me as the person before, not the one you found covered in blood.”

You can’t tell him how selfish you’ve become. You're now someone who allows themselves to become fully encompassed by their desires and what more do you want than Will? You couldn’t have held yourself back for long; you're too impulsive.

You couldn't hold back your need to touch him—to break him. You’d never hurt him intentionally; you want to hold and cradle him, but you can’t help the desire in you to squeeze. Squeeze till he’s red, till he bursts like a ripe cherry in your fingertips. You want to see the red mess; you want to see how beautiful he is inside and out. You want to devour him, to watch him, to strip all his layers and to digest the sight of him raw in front of you.

Your love disgusts you.

He sighs; disagreement is written all over his face. “You could have tried-”

“I did try; I did. I tried to heal myself, grow thicker skin. But every single time I brushed up against something, all of my progress was peeled right off me. So I bandaged myself up; I don't think I’m wrong for that.” You insist, desperation creeping into your voice.

He doesn't respond. A part of you is upset; how can he empathize with others but not you? What makes you unworthy of his understanding?

“I couldn’t stand the way you looked at me or how everyone looked at me. You looked at me like one of your strays.” Your voice breaks, at that, he turns to look at you. “You looked at me like that because there was something wrong with me, except it’s not fleas or ticks. It’s something inside that eats away at me. And you saw it. I think you saw it clearer than me at first and that's why you felt the need to tend to me. But this is something that contaminated me and everything I do, and I knew it was going to get to you if I didn’t leave.”

You can’t help the tears that start to pool in your waterline. You’re sure he wants to talk, but he doesn't. He lets you continue. “And I left for selfish reasons, your right, and I won’t lie to you; I won’t ever lie to you Will, but it’s not like this is what I wanted; it's what I had to do, and I’ll do what I can to prove that to you, but if you don't want me to, I’ll leave you be.”

He looks at you deeply, like he’s trying to dissect an autopsy on your emotions. “I think it would be best for you to go.” He finally says, his voice barely a whisper.

“Me too.” You say before rising off the steps and walking to your car. Once inside, you see him staring at you through your windshield, his face unreadable in the lack of light.

You turn on your car and reverse out of his driveway.

2 YEARS EARLIER

Your knuckles rap urgently against Will's front door, the sound echoing through the silent night as dogs bark in response while you hear Will’s clunky footsteps as he walks towards his door.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice heavy with alarm as he takes in the distress etched across your features.

“I found him, Glynn he-” Your words dissolve into a choked sob that jumps out of your throat.

“It’s cold; you need to come inside.” Will urges while placing a gentle hand on your back as he guides you inside his home.

"He was murdered, I-I found him," you try to explain, but Will interrupts you once again, your emotions clearly overwhelming him. “I think you should sit down.” He suggests, his voice strained. “Let me get you something to drink.”.

“Yeah, yeah.” You manage to murmur, your throat tight with emotion, as you sink into his old, worn couch. “Coffee please.”

You see Will's eyes momentarily spark up from amusement. “I’ll get you some water,” he says before disappearing into the dark kitchen. You can’t help but feel guilty; from his groggy demeanour and the lack of lit light fixtures, you most likely just woke him up.

You hear the noise of a cabinet opening and shutting before you hear the tap run. A few moments later, Will walks out with a glass in his hand. He hands it to you as he takes a seat on the dog hair-covered sofa beside you.

You look at Will but his face stays staring at his hands in his lap. “I know there's not much to say that can console you on this, so I’m just sorry.” He murmurs sincerely.

You appreciate his honesty because he’s right; there's little solace to be found in empty condolences.

“You don’t have to bother with condolences, Will. It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll get plenty at work tomorrow.” You say with a pitiful laugh, the bitterness of the situation is far from lost on you.

His reaction is swift, his head snapping up to meet your gaze with disbelief. “You should take time off, I’m sure Jack would allow that.”

“No-no-no.” You insist, shaking your head vehemently. “I need to keep busy, I’m to invested now.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He offers.

“I was…entranced by what I saw.” You answer honestly.

Will was visibly taken aback by your words. “Does that make me awful?” You ask, the weight of guilt settling heavy in your chest.

He takes a deep breath before responding. "No. I think you were shocked. It wasn't a regular crime scene; you stumbled upon something that, yes, you were looking for, but it was something you didn't expect. Your brain is trying to rationalize; it's trying to make what you saw less scary."

Weirdly, his attempt at comfort made you feel disappointed. "Yeah. God, I don't know what I was thinking. It was just… so much blood," you confess, the memory still fresh in your mind.

His face dropped, “Did it.” He stops speaking, you can see him trying to fraze his next words carefully. “Bring you back?” He asks indirectly, though you know what he’s referencing.

“I don’t know, maybe subconsciously.” You sigh. You didn’t even realize how much you'd calmed down since walking through its doors. Moments ago, you were on the verge of an anxiety attack and now your nervous system has calmed down dramatically.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

He doesn't pry, nor does he press for further explanation. Instead, he offers you a genuine, small smile. "Of course."

next chapter

[dfroza]

“Don’t you realize—the kingdom of God belongs to those who are like children? You can depend on this: if you don’t receive the Kingdom as a child would, you won’t enter it at all.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 18th chapter of the book of Luke:

He told them a parable, urging them to keep praying and never grow discouraged. The parable went like this:

Jesus: There was a judge living in a certain city. He showed no respect for God or humanity. In that same city there was a widow. Again and again she kept coming to him seeking justice: “Clear my name from my adversary’s false accusations!” He paid no attention to her request for a while, but then he said to himself, “I don’t care about what God thinks of me, much less what any mere human thinks. But this widow is driving me crazy. She’s never going to quit coming to see me unless I hear her case and provide her legal protection.”

Did you catch what this self-assured judge said? If he can be moved to act justly, won’t God bring justice for His chosen people when they cry to Him day and night? Will He be slow to bring them justice? Mark My words: God will intervene fast with vindication. But here’s the question: when the Son of Man comes, will He find anyone who still has faith?

He told another parable—this one addressed to people who were confident in their self-righteousness and looked down on other people with disgust.

Jesus: Imagine two men walking up a road, going to the temple to pray. One of them is a Pharisee and the other is a despised tax collector. Once inside the temple, the Pharisee stands up and prays this prayer in honor of himself: “God, how I thank You that I am not on the same level as other people—crooks, cheaters, the sexually immoral—like this tax collector over here. Just look at me! I fast not once but twice a week, and I faithfully pay my tithes on every penny of income.” Over in the corner, the tax collector begins to pray, but he won’t even lift his eyes to heaven. He pounds on his chest in sorrow and says, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”

Now imagine these two men walking back down the road to their homes. Listen, it’s the tax collector who walks home clean before God, and not the Pharisee, because whoever lifts himself up will be put down and whoever takes a humble place will be lifted up.

Some people brought infants to Jesus, hoping He would touch them in blessing. The disciples rebuked them for doing so, but Jesus called to the people.

Jesus: Let the little children come to Me. Never hinder them! Don’t you realize—the kingdom of God belongs to those who are like children? You can depend on this: if you don’t receive the Kingdom as a child would, you won’t enter it at all.

Public Official: Good Teacher, what do I need to do to inherit the life of the age to come?

Jesus: Why did you just call Me good? No one is good but God—only God. You know what the Hebrew Scriptures command: “Do not commit adultery; do not murder; do not steal; do not bear false witness; honor your father and mother.”

Public Official: I’ve already been doing these things—since I came of age.

Jesus: One thing you still lack—one thing; sell all your possessions and distribute the proceeds to the poor. Then you will have treasure in heaven. Then you can come and follow Me.

The man heard these words and sadness came over his face, for his wealth was considerable.

Jesus: What a hard thing it is for those with much wealth to enter the kingdom of God! In fact, it would be easier for a camel to squeeze through the eye of a needle than it would be for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God!

Listeners: Then who can be liberated?

Jesus: Remember, what is humanly impossible is possible with God.

Peter: We have left our homes and followed You.

Jesus: I’m telling you the truth: there is nobody who leaves his house or wife or siblings or parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God who will not receive more than he has given up—much more—in this age and in the age to come. He will receive eternal life.

He took the twelve aside and spoke privately to them.

Jesus: Look, my friends, we are going up to Jerusalem. Everything the prophets have written about the Son of Man will be fulfilled. He will be handed over to the outsiders. They will mock Him, disgrace Him, and spit on Him; they will scourge Him, and they will kill Him. And on the third day, He will rise from death.

But they had no comprehension of what He was talking about. The meaning was hidden from them, and they couldn’t grasp it.

Picture this:

Jesus is nearing the city of Jericho. A blind man is sitting there, begging by the roadside. He can hear the sounds of the crowd accompanying Jesus, and he asks what’s going on.

Crowd: Jesus of Nazareth is passing this way.

Then the man starts shouting.

Blind Man: Jesus, Son of King David, show mercy to me!

The people in the front of the crowd reprimand him and tell him to be quiet, but he just shouts louder.

Blind Man: Son of King David, show mercy to me!

Jesus stops and tells the people to bring the man over to Him. The man stands in front of Jesus.

Jesus: What do you want Me to do for you?

Blind Man: Lord, let me receive my sight.

Jesus: Receive your sight; your faith has made you well.

At that very instant, the man is able to see. He begins following Jesus, shouting praises to God; and everyone in the crowd, when they see what has happened, starts praising God too.

The Book of Luke, Chapter 18 (The Voice)

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 6th chapter of the book of Genesis:

As human beings began to multiply and spread across the surface of the earth as God commanded, they had lovely daughters. The sons of God saw how beautiful the humans’ daughters were, and they decided to take any daughters they wanted as their wives.

Eternal One: My life-giving Spirit will not sustain human beings forever because they are, after all, made of flesh. Therefore, I will put a limit on their lifespan of about 120 years.

Now at that time and for some time to come, a great warrior race lived on the earth. Whenever the sons of God would have sex with the humans’ daughters, the women bore them children who became mighty warriors. In the days of old, they became famous heroes, the kind people tell stories about!

The Eternal One saw that wickedness was rampaging throughout the earth and that evil had become the first thought on every mind, the constant purpose of every person. At that point God’s heart broke, and He regretted having ever made man in the first place.

Eternal One: I know what I’ll do. I will wipe humanity, My special creation, from the face of the earth—humans, animals, creeping things, and birds of the sky—for I regret that I ever made them.

But there was one person whom the Lord could not let go of—Noah—because this man pleased Him.

Here is the account of Noah and his descendants. Noah was a good man, a right-living man, the best man of his generation; and he walked closely with God. Noah fathered three sons: Shem, Ham, and Japheth.

They lived at a time when the world had become vile and corrupt. Violence was everywhere. God saw that the earth was in ruins, and He knew why: all people on earth except Noah had lived corrupt lives and ruined God’s plans for them. He had to do something.

Eternal One (to Noah): Noah, I have decided to wipe out all the living creatures I have made because they are spreading violence throughout the earth. Watch! I will destroy them with the earth. I want you to build an ark. Build it out of cypress wood. Make rooms in the ark, and cover it inside and outside with tar. Here’s how you will do it: build the ark 450 feet long, 75 feet wide, and 45 feet high. Put a roof on the ark and leave a gap of 18 inches below the roofline for air to circulate. Put the door of the ark in its side, and build it with lower, middle, and upper decks. Look! I am going to unleash a torrent and flood the earth to destroy all flesh under the heavens which breathes the breath of life. Everything that is on the earth will die.

But I will make a pact with you, Noah—a covenant agreement. To survive, you and your family—you, your wife, your sons, and your sons’ wives—must go into the ark. And, out of all the living creatures I have made, you must bring two of each kind into the ark with you, to keep them alive. Bring one male and one female of each kind. Bring all kinds of birds, all sorts of animals, and all varieties of creatures that creep on the ground in pairs, so that each species will survive. Also, you must bring food with you. Bring every kind of food that may be eaten, and store it all inside the ark. That way, you and all of the creatures will have enough food to eat.

So Noah listened to God, and he built the ark. He did everything God asked him to do.

The Book of Genesis, Chapter 6 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Throughout Scripture God is described as spirit and humans as flesh. God’s statement emphasizes the eternal, life-giving nature of spirit and the mortal, dependent nature of flesh. Without God’s Spirit-breath sustaining humanity, life itself is not possible. Humans are totally dependent on God. The upper limit of human life is set at roughly 120 years; but the change comes gradually, and Aaron is the last of the patriarchs to live beyond the limit.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for friday, march 8 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons that looks at self-image:

“And he (i.e., Betzalel) made the large basin of bronze and its pedestal of bronze from the mirrors of the women who served at the entrance of the tent of meeting” (Exod. 38:8).

====

At the entrance of the Mishkan (i.e., “Tabernacle”) a copper "laver" (i.e., wash basin or cistern) was built, the place where we wash and prepare ourselves to come before the Divine Presence (Exod. 30:18). The Torah says the basin was made from the mirrors of women who offered them to help build the sanctuary (see Exod. 38:8). Spiritually understood, the mirror was transformed from a place where we encounter our own appearance to a place where we encounter God. Instead of focusing on our superficial face – how it looks and how we esteem ourselves, we now see ourselves in light of God’s love, with our former self-image “sacrificed” or surrendered for the gift of a deeper self (2 Cor. 5:16). This is the "new self" cleansed by the Word of God, reflecting back the radiance of His Presence, as it says: “put on the new self (הָאָדָם הֶחָדָשׁ) created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Eph. 4:24).

The “sacrificed mirror” represents turning to face reality, to see ourselves as God see us... Because of Yeshua, we have access to the inner heart of God (Heb. 4:16). Know who you are in Messiah: “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Cor. 3:18).

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Proverbs 31:30 reading:

hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/prov31-30-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/prov31-30-lesson.pdf

3.7.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365:

“Behold” means it’s happening

All this leads to a powerful point about this verse. The verse begins with the words, “Behold days are coming.” Throughout the Bible, the word “Behold” implies something that is readily visible or immediate. What’s more, the verse does not say “days will come” in the future tense, but “are coming” in the present tense. The implication of the words is that the full restoration of Israel to the land is either underway or is in the near future.

There is an important lesson here. As we explained, Jeremiah is foretelling the redemption and restoration of Israel that will not come to pass for thousands of years in the future. And yet, he describes this historical development as though it is already happening in the immediate present. Jeremiah is poetically conveying the proper attitude that we are meant to have regarding God’s plan for the future redemption. Even though it will come to pass far in the future, the fact that God has promised it makes it an absolute certainty. Because it is a certainty, we ought to see everything that happens in history as part of the story of the redemption of Israel. So even if the Jews are headed into exile, and even if that exile lasts two thousand years, all these ups and downs are simply chapters in the ongoing story of the restoration of Israel. The process of redemption is underway.

Even before the full redemption of Israel and the world is complete, we must always view the promises of God as certain and present in our own reality. We must be confident enough in God’s word that we can look to the future and say, “Behold!”

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

March 8, 2024

Blessed in Christ

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ.” (Ephesians 1:3)

This little phrase, “in Christ,” conveys a world of doctrinal truth with great blessing to the believer. Positionally speaking, God has actually “raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus” (Ephesians 2:6). God in effect sees us as “in Christ,” and this wonderful position at God’s right hand implies great honor.

It is well to note similar phrases throughout Scripture. Paul assures us that we were “chosen...in him before the foundation of the world” (1:4), “accepted in the beloved” (1:6), and “created in Christ Jesus unto good works” (2:10).

He is the one “in whom also we have obtained an inheritance” (1:11) and “in whom ye also are builded together for an habitation of God through the Spirit” (2:22). We have the glorious future promise that God will “gather together in one all things in Christ” (1:10) “according to the working of his mighty power, Which he wrought in Christ, when he raised him from the dead, and set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places” (1:19-20).

Therefore, in our exalted position in Him, in the heavenly places, we do indeed enjoy “all spiritual blessings.” This doctrinal truth provides us with the incentive and power to live a practical Christian life that is genuinely consistent with our high calling and position in Him.

This is the basis of the many New Testament exhortations to the believer to live daily “in Christ.” For example, “As ye have therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in him” (Colossians 2:6). Therefore, since “ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God....For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:1-3). HMM

[eddiemunsonswhxre]

CAN YOU PLZ PLZ DO SOMETHING LIKE EDDIE TEACHING THE READER HOW TO TOUCH HERSELF ON HIS LAP BECAUSE SHE DOESNT KNOW HOW OHHHHH MY GOD I’m dying I need him so bad you don’t understand he’d be praising her so much and she’s practically crying begging him to finish for her GOD I CANT DO THIS RN

loved this request, hope you love where i took it :)

teach me, please me / eddie munson

rating: m (18+, minors DNI)

cw: fem!reader, masturbation, praise kink, pet names (babe/baby), voyeurism

while playing truth or dare with your pervy friends, eddie discovers you've never had an orgasm before.

--

  “alright, um truth or dare, gareth?” jeff asks. you continue moving pieces around on the rubiks cube you held in your hands, half listening to the guys and half not. you were leaned against the arm of eddie’s couch with your legs in his lap. his fingers tapped rhythmically on your shins as he held a beer in the other hand and laughed along with the other guys.

  gareth rolled his eyes. “dare, obviously,” he spoke from across the room, sipping his beer.

  jeff thought for a moment about what he could have gareth do. “oh, i dare you to go piss on old man gregory’s porch,” jeff laughs.

  “shit, is that supposed to be something i’m against? let’s go,” gareth laughs. jeff and ricky follow him out, you too into your cube to notice and eddie not wanting to get up.

  eddie looked at your concentrated look, taking a mental picture to remember how cute you looked like this. “making any progress, babe?” eddie asked, massaging your shin lightly.

  you look up at him with a pout. “no, i’m still where i was twenty minutes ago,” you huff and let your hands fall on your stomach. “why can fourteen year olds do it and i can’t?” you whine causing eddie to laugh.

  “come here, big girl,” he teases you for whining as he holds his arm out. you roll your eyes but move to sit up and lean into his side anyway. “dustin is not a normal fourteen year old, you can’t base your ability off him,” he says, wrapping his arm around you and rubbing your upper arm comfortingly.

  you pout still and let your head fall onto the side of his chest. you rest one hand on his stomach, the other curled into your side as you tuck your legs under you. “it’s still annoying, i wanna be able to do it,” you whine. this is how eddie knew you were getting tired.

  eddie placed a kiss on your head as you look at the cube you’d dropped on the floor. “you want me to ask them to go so we can go to bed?” he asks in a quieter voice. you and eddie had been best friends for the past three years. your parents were probably the only ones in town who absolutely adored him so you two hung out a lot. your parents trusted him to take care of you, so they had no problem letting you stay over at his house or him staying at yours whenever you wanted. of course, not without warnings but they were never needed. 

  it was true that you and eddie did act like more than just best friends, but you both were too afraid to admit you had feelings. that landed you in the current situation. eddie was always overprotective and put you above the guys, while you were always clinging to his side. you shook your head no. “if i get too tired i’ll just go to bed before you,” you say and mess with the fabric of his shirt.

  “thought you didn’t like going to sleep without me?” eddie teased causing you to roll your eyes and hit him in the chest. you were drunk when you said that a couple months ago and he wouldn’t let it go.

  just then the guys came back in laughing amongst each other before taking their seats. “success?” eddie asked with raised eyebrows and an amused smirk. the guys noticed your change in position but didn’t comment on it. partly because they were used to it, and partly because they knew better.

  “oh yeah, might’ve gotten under his door we’re not sure,” gareth laughs. you crinkle your nose in disgust while eddie laughs with them.

  he shakes his head, pushing you closer. “grumpy fucker deserves it,” eddie says and takes another drink of his beer. the guys laugh about it a little more before getting back to the game.

  gareth looks around before his eyes land on you. “y/n, truth or dare?” he asks, now calmed down.

  you hum, thinking. you were pretty tired and last time you picked dare they had you finish the game in only your bra even after eddie’s protests of it being ‘too far.’ not that you really cared, but you were really comfy right now. “truth,” you mumbled quietly.

  gareth thought for a bit before shrugging. “when’s the last time you had an orgasm?” he asks, drinking his beer. your face gets hot and you feel eddie tense.

  “gareth that’s not cool, man, that shits private,” eddie says, trying to save you from answering.

  gareth groaned, ready to make fun of eddie for treating you like you were a kid all the time. “um, never?” you said quietly. everyone in the room goes quiet, looking at you in shock.

  “woah, what? have you never masturbated?” jeff asks cautiously. you shrink into eddie’s side as you shake your head no.

  the guys look at each other in slight bewilderment. “you’re eighteen years old, and you’ve never came?” gareth asks. you shake your head once more before burying your embarrassment in eddie’s chest. he moves to rubbing your back comfortingly.

  eddie is amazed at the fact you’ve never had a orgasm before. he knew you were pretty innocent, but having never masturbated before? damn. your innocence made his pants tight. “let’s keep playing, i’ll take y/n’s spot since she sucks at dares anyway,” eddie laughs, trying to take the attention from you.

  you keep your head hidden until you’ve calmed down and then you go back to just resting it and observing. eddie kisses the top of your head once again and you smile.

  the guys start leaving around one in the morning and you disappear into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. as you’re changing, eddie cleans up a little bit in the living room and then goes to find clothes to wear to bed. it was november, so it was a bit chilly outside. as he was grabbing a pair of flannel pants you walked into his room rubbing the side of your face. “hey sleeping beauty, ready for bed?” he asked in a teasing tone as he subtly checked you out. 

  you were wearing a long sleeve shirt that was a bit big on you and a small pair of grey sleep shorts. you nodded and crawled on to his bed, nestling yourself in the corner as you always did and getting under his blankets. he smiles at how adorable you are and then goes to change himself. 

  when he came back, he turned out the lights and crawled in bed next to you. your eyes were closed but he knew you weren’t sleeping yet. “night, y/n,” he says, settling into his pillow. 

  “goodnight,” you mumble, cuddling into his blankets. as you lay there longer, the more awake you become, making you frustrated. 

  eddie was having the same problem as you, and his mind was wandering anywhere and everywhere. when he felt you shift for the millionth time he sighed and turned on his side to face you. “what’s up? why are you still awake?” he asks quietly. you open your eyes and give him a half shrug.

  “suddenly i’m not tired anymore,” you say. 

  eddie nods. “wanna talk then?” he asks and you nod. “can i ask you a question?” he asks, picking at his pillow.

  “yeah,” you mumble.

  eddie purses his lips, wondering if he should even ask you this. “have you really never had an orgasm? you can be honest, it’s just me,” he questions, searching your eyes for answers.

  you roll onto your back to avoid eye contact. “no, eddie. i haven’t,” you say quietly.

  eddie swallows. he was curious and he knows you’ll stop him if he goes too far. “have you tried? like masturbating i mean?” he asks. you close your eyes in embarrassment. 

  but it was just eddie. your best friend eddie who would never judge you. “yeah… but i can never… it never worked,” you admit. 

  “why didn’t you ever just ask me for help, baby? i’ve been told i'm pretty good at it,” eddie smiles and jokes. you close your eyes at his words, hating how you would ask him if you could.

  “dick,” you mumble and eddie laughs. he scoots closer and throws his arm around you. he presses your bodies together as his head is propped up on his hand so he can look down at you.

  he shakes his head at you. “i’m just messing,” he says with a fond smile. 

  “mhm,” you hum and look into his eyes. those big brown eyes that you’ve admired since day one. he always got whatever he wanted from you with those eyes.

  “i’m sorry i keep asking questions but this is so interesting to me. babe, i’ve been jerking my shit since i was like eleven and to find out you haven’t been able to cum yet and you’re eighteen? kinda heart breaking,” he starts once more. you shove him slightly, face screwing in slight disgust. “okay, sorry, too much information i guess. but… do you ever get wet? you ever been horny?” he pushes, testing his limits.

  you cover your face with your hands, wishing a black hole would just open and suck you in. “yes. to both,” you say, your words muffled by your hands.

  eddie rubs you side in a comforting manner. “so what do you do?” eddie hums, not even sure why he was still asking more questions.

  “eddie,” you whine in embarrassment, uncovering your face and pouting at him. 

  “i’m just being curious!” he defends himself. he scans your face and feels a little bad for making you uncomfortable.

  you turn your head to look at the wall and just before eddie can apologize you begin to explain. “i just kinda um… use my fingers but it like, it’ll hurt or i won’t really feel much. or it’ll feel really good but i just can’t get myself all the way,” you say as eddie listens. he hated to admit your innocence was turning him on.

  “you touch your clit?” he asks in a dazed tone. you look back to him and shake your head no. “aha! see, now there’s your problem baby. that little bud, your clit, is what really is gonna make you cum. it’s different for most girls i think, but i know you can cum from just rubbing your clit the right way,” he says, his hand traveling towards your clothed pussy.

  you feel like sweating as he rests his hand high on your thigh while analyzing you. “i-i don’t know what is the… right way,” you stutter. 

  “you poor thing, you need to work on that like as soon as possible,” eddie teases you, his signature smile on his face. but yours wasn’t there, you just looked scared.

  “how?” you gulp, wanting to know more so next time you could finally get a release. 

  eddie eyes you for a bit before sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. “y/n, i need to ask you something, you can say no,” he says nervously.

  “okay,” you urge.

  eddie looks away from you for a moment to take a deep breath before looking back in your eyes. “do you want me to teach you how to pleasure yourself?” he asks quickly.

  you gasp at his question, being taken by surprise. you look into his eyes once more, they’re now clouded by nervousness and something new. something you’d never seen. lust. you thought back on all the times you’d sit in bed and just deal with the dull throbs of your wet pussy, knowing you couldn’t do it. but this was your opportunity. “will you, please?” you ask with equal nervousness in your voice. 

  eddie is stunned, not only by your response but the fact that he asked in the first place. “now? are you wet now?” he asks, now more than conscious of his hand resting so close to your heat. 

  “well, no… but you can make me wet, can’t you?” you ask and then feel your ears burn. “oh my god, i'm sorry. i can’t believe i just asked you that,” you fling yourself to face the wall.

  eddie feels his cock stiffen in his pants as he grabs you to pull you towards him. “babe, i know you well. really well. but i don’t know your body like that, if you tell me what to do that gets you going then i can try and turn you on,” he says into your ear.

  you shake your head. “but i don’t really know…” you say to the wall.

  “what is normally happening when you start to get horny?” he asks, rubbing your stomach and side.

  god this was so embarrassing. “it’s normally just like… when i start imagining things. like a guy i find attractive wanting to touch me and stuff. i don’t really know,” you say, still refusing to look at him.

  “am i attractive enough?” he asks, bringing his hand to lightly run his fingers along your curves. you nod, so eddie grabs you to push you back on your back. “how about you let me touch you and try some things? that okay?” he asks, moving to hover over you. you nod, biting your lip and watching him nervously. “use your words, baby,” he says with raised brows.

  “yes, that’s okay, eddie,” you breath.

  he nods, moving himself down to be closer to your body. “now just relax, really feel everything. if i do something you don’t like tell me no,” he says and starts trailing fingers up and down your thigh. 

  you shiver under his touch and respond with an, “okay.” he pushes your hair out of his way and presses soft and slow kisses to your neck. “oh,” you moan in surprise, bringing up a hand to hold the back of his head. his fingers on your thigh tease the seams of your panties, never fully dipping in but enough to make you shudder. eddie begins sucking on your lower neck as his fingers snap your waistband against your skin. you gasp as his teeth nip at your neck, but your hips shift causing eddie to smirk into the love bite. he was succeeding. 

  his feather light graze comes up your torso, making your shirt ride up slightly. he cautiously hovers over your breast as he waits for a sign to stop. you don’t give him one, your breathing heavy and hand starting to take fistfuls of his hair. he let his hand caress your clothed breasts before his thumb was rubbing your nipple over the fabric of your shirt. “woah,” you moan, legs clenching slightly. you were definitely turned on. eddie chuckles into a different place on your neck before rubbing over your nipple a few more times until it was hard for him. he grabbed it between to fingers, squeezing ever so slightly and listening to you moan. he nipped at your neck, wondering how mad you were going to be in the morning when you realized how many hickies he’d left on your neck. after biting and sucking harshly on your skin, he ran his tongue over it to soothe the slight pain. 

“eddie,” you moan, arching your back to get more contact. eddie groans, screwing his eyes shut. the way you moaned his name was sinful, and really really dangerous. if you kept it up, he wouldn’t be teaching you how to pleasure yourself. he’d be fucking you. he decided to be bold, dropping his hand from your chest and down between your thighs. he ran his fingers gently along the soft skin of your inner thigh, enjoying how you squirm beneath him. eddie began sucking harshly on the side of your neck and brought his hand up to hover over your heat. he bites down on your neck gently, causing a moan to leave your lips. in that moment, he pressed his hand down, cupping your heat.

he smiled, he could feel your wetness soak into your panties and spread further around your entrance through two layers of fabric. he pulled away from your neck and back to meet your eyes. his face was lit up seeing your eyes clouded with arousal. “feel that, baby? you’re wet,” he taunts, slowly rubbing slight circles over your clothed cunt. 

“holy shit, eddie,” you breath out. eddie smirks but moves his hand away from you.

you let out a whine, causing eddie to chuckle. “alright, up. get those pants off,” eddie says, sitting down next to you. you feel your neck heat up as you slowly put your hands down to your waistband. “don’t be shy, baby. it’s just me,” he coos. you look away but slide your shorts and underwear off slowly. eddie grunts at the sight of you kicking them off the bed. “you can keep the shirt if you want to, but i think you should take it off,” eddie says. 

“perv,” you say to him pointedly. he laughs at you, causing you to smile. 

“not a perv, just want you to have the best first orgasm ever,” he shrugs. you roll your eyes but take it off anyway. eddie’s eyes scan your body hungrily, lip caught between his teeth. you notice his intense gaze and curl in on yourself. “no, don’t,” he says, reaching over and pulling your arm away from yourself. he blinks, gathering himself before pulling you to him. “okay, come here. sit on my lap, put your back to my chest,” he says, helping you get situated.

you relax against his chest, eyes widening as you feel his erection. “you’re hard,” you mumble dumbly.

eddie chuckles, wrapping his arms around your bare middle. “no shit, look at you. how could i not be?” he says, complimenting you. you put your hands up to your face once more. he shakes his head and takes them away. “you’re not allowed to be shy when you’re already naked on my lap,” eddie teases, kissing the side of your head. you nod, taking a deep breath and trying to relax.

eddie hums, rubbing your sides soothingly. “touch yourself, do what feels right,” eddie says softly in your ear.

you chew on your bottom lip and try to make yourself do it. your hand begins to travel down, but you pull it back. “eddie, this is embarrassing. can you do it? please?” you beg, looking back at him with puppy dog eyes. eddie gulps, closing his big brown eyes and containing himself.

“no, you gotta do it yourself,” he says, rubbing your side. you just continue staring at him until he rolls his eyes. he holds out his hand. “give me your hand, i’ll guide you,” he says, knowing he was going to be stuck with this raging boner. fuck, he might even cum in his pants. 

you place your hand in his and he wraps his pinkie and thumb around your hand, his fingers lining up with yours. “ready?” he asks and you nod. he guides your hand down to your slit, pushing them towards your entrance to gather your arousal.

“wow,” you mumble at the feeling of your wetness.

eddie smiles. “what, baby? feel how wet you are?” he hums. you nod, moaning as eddie guides your fingers up to your clit. he circles them, your head falling back against his shoulder. “that feel good?” he asks huskily.

“yes,” you whisper, looking into his eyes. eddie grunts, looking back at you as your wetness starts to coat his fingers as well as yours.

“you know how fucking dirty this is, y/n? you look straight out of a damn porn film,” hey grunts, pushing your fingers to do a different motion instead. your eyes roll back in pleasure at the new movement and you let out a moan. “feel better that way, huh, baby?” he asks.

you start moving your fingers on your own, eyes opening back up. “a lot better, oh god,” you moan. eddie removes his hand from yours and you stop, looking at him in confusion.

he shakes his head. “ah-ah, you keep going, pretty girl,” he coos. you look at him apprehensively but he just raises his brows. “i’m not doing it for you, go on, make yourself cum,” he urges in a demanding tone. you begin moving your fingers again and eddie begins massaging your sides once again. “good girl,” he mutters, kissing your cheek.

you circle your clit once again, trying to find what area made you feel the best. “look at how good you’re doing,” eddie coos, eyes moving to train on your hand moving on your clit. “why don’t you touch those pretty tits of yours, help make you feel good,” eddie advises, his lips dragging across your temple. you whine towards him, causing his cock to twitch under you and a groan to leave his lips. “or do you want me to?” eddie asks and you nod immediately. eddie moves his hands from your sides and brings them up to massage your breasts. you moan at the contact and move your fingers faster over the left side of your clit.

“how do i know… when i’m, when i’m close?” you ask breathily. eddie tweaks your nipple, pulling at it and watching you squirm. 

eddie chuckles at you in admiration. you were so, so innocent. “you’re not there yet, baby. i don’t know how it really feels for women, but things are gonna get really tight as you get closer. just keep going and then you'll get to cum, okay pretty girl?” he explains and you nod. “good, keep rubbing that pretty clit for me, baby,” he says. his words egg you on further, sending more waves of arousal to your core.

eddie keeps saying encouraging words in your ear and groping your tits as your fingers rub your clit. your other hand falls behind you to hold onto eddie’s shoulder as you finally feel your core begin to tighten. “look at you, ready to fall apart on my lap,” eddie murmurs. you whimper, pushing down harder on your clit. “you know how hot you look right now? fuck, baby, i could cum just from looking at you. i wanna eat that sweet pussy of yours so bad, make you cum so much harder than you’re about to,” eddie grunts.

you whimper, looking back at him. “help,” you beg, your wrist faltering. eddie’s eyes darken, but he believes you need to do it yourself this time.

“this is all you, baby. don’t stop, i know you don’t want to. you can do it, be a good girl and cum for me,” eddie says, looking straight into your eyes.

“please, eddie,” you whine, tears pricking your eyes as your wrist hurts.

“no, go on, make yourself cum,” he says in a harder tone. you moan, pussy clenching at his words while simultaneously tears fall. you speed up anyway, chasing the satisfaction you knew you could finally get. eddie could see it in the way your eyelids were fluttering, you were getting close. “cum,” he whispers as you rub your clit faster. you let out a long moan, eyes rolling back and back arching off eddie’s chest as waves of hot pleasure rush through you. “keep rubbing your clit, ride it out,” eddie encourages and you do. your legs shaking as an abundance of your arousal seeps out of you and onto the pants covering his dick. eddie groans, his cock begging for attention. 

when you finally come down from your high, you open your eyes again to look at eddie. “holy fuck,” you mutter. eddie smiles and plants yet another kiss, this time, on your forehead.

“you did so good. you feel good?” he asks, holding you close to his chest. you nod, nuzzling into him. “baby, i really do want to cuddle you right now, but you’ve given me a really painful boner that i need to take care of,” he says slowly.

you nod and unwrap his arms from around you. “sorry,” you mumble, and slide off his chest.

eddie shakes his head. “don’t be,” he rubs your upper arm to comfort you before going to stand up. 

“wait,” you say, reaching for him. he looks at you, slightly concerned. “can i- can i watch?” you ask shyly. eddies eyes widen and a small, guttural groan leaves from deep in his throat. 

he takes a moment before settling back into his spot on the bed. “i guess it’s only fair, i watch you cum so you watch me,” he shrugs and pull his pajama pants off. your eyes are glued to his erection as he wraps his fist around it and begins pumping. his tip was already leaking and his head fell back against his wall. “don’t judge me for how fast i’m going to cum. having you on my lap, cumming on me, and now you just watching… oh fuck,” eddie groans, as you make eye contact with him. your eyes flicker between his cock and his face as it contorted with pleasure. 

you push yourself towards him a bit, his eyes closed so he doesn’t notice. you reach out and run your fingers up and down his upper thigh. “fuck, y/n,” he shudders, bucking into his fist as his eyes fall to you. the way you look at his cock in fascination sends him over the edge, cumming in thick ropes all over himself. his chest is heaving as you push yourself to sit up next to him. 

“eddie?” you ask quietly.

he looks over to you, taking deep breaths. “yeah, babe?” he inquires.

you purse your lips and look to his wall before going back to him. “we aren’t just friends, are we?” you ask quietly.

eddie gulps and gives you a fake smile. “no, y/n, i don’t think we are,” he admits in just above a whisper. you nod and look away again.

but there’s that thought nagging in the back of your head that won’t go away. “eddie?” you question again.

“hm?” he asks, afraid of where this may go. you finally look back to him, but you don’t try to talk. you lean forward, grabbing his face and planting your lips on his. eddie lets out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes and kissing you back. he pulls away soon after. “can we continue this kissing and cuddling after getting cleaned up?” he asks with a playful smile. you nod bashfully and follow him to the bathroom to get washed up. 

you get back in your pajamas, eddie putting on a new pair of flannel pants, and then you both get into bed. until you fall asleep, you share sleepy kisses and hold each other closely. “you can go to sleep now, baby,” eddie says, pushing hair from your face. you nod, cuddling into him as he places one final kiss on the top of your head before snuggling into you. you weren’t sure what you were yet, but eddie knew he finally had you.