#what I thought would happen if I read the ending: haunted by this story's missed potential

[karliahs]

trying and failing to fall asleep because I literally can't stop laughing about scary baby all for one. if a scary little christian baby was going to destroy japan, would you still hit the home run

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (12/?)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, descriptions of sexual fantasies, smut, the angst, semi-public sex, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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You will live with me.

She didn't know why this thought simultaneously frightened and relieved her.

The truth was that she had always wanted just that.

To be with him.

To their relief, Aegon recovered quickly and remembered his lesson well, appearing no more at his brother's premises.

The state in which he returned to her that morning, the way he looked, sobbing like a small child exactly as he had done then, that summer, meant that even though she knew what he had done was wrong, so very wrong, she could not denounce or reject him.

She knew that something had simply snapped inside him and that he was terrified that she would leave him now.

Although he had thought for sure that this would be the end of them, she saw his sincere despair, what he had hidden inside for so long as well as the depth of feelings, which made her finally believe that he really loved her.

He loved her and it was a love beyond reason, deep and hot, terrifyingly dark and giving her a sense of security at the same time.

From the moment she made her choice, it seemed to her that for some reason something had changed, although she did not know why.

In her mind, they had simply started living together as a couple.

They worked together, studied together, shopped and cooked together, talked for hours in bed, made love and fell asleep in each other's embrace only to wake up the next day and start all over again.

After she turned off her phone so she wouldn't see the missed calls from her mother and Jace, a strange calm settled in her mind.

The calm before the storm.

They both knew it, but they didn't talk about it, focusing more on spending time together, enjoying the simple closeness, the touch of each other's hands, the kisses on the forehead and nose, the safe, warm embrace of their arms.

Her uncle's jealousy had prevented him from forming any kind of relationship with Robb that she could recognise as warmth, however, the fact that he had then stood up for them meant that they had no longer glared at each other with malevolent glances and both seemed to have come to terms with their presence.

She knew that there had been some sort of complete climax of his emotions that morning, and that everything he had felt had poured out along with his tears, which had for some reason made his nature and behaviour soften a little, at least in her presence.

It seemed to her at certain moments that he was a child again: not in terms of his naivety or the vocabulary he used, but something in his gaze, his touch, the way that even when they were among other people he would lay his head on her thighs, sitting on the grass with her, used to her always stroking his hair, made her feel that he was that boy again.

He seemed tired to her, but also relaxed and at ease, his manner and reaction no longer so aggressive with his existence limited to working by her side and being as close to her as possible.

She knew he was trying to recover, to pull himself together after what had happened, to understand who he was now and what he really wanted.

This theoretical calm was disturbed when Criston called him, saying that his people wanted to meet with him to discuss a few things. The expression on his face as he listened to Cole was unnatural and some part of her thought he was afraid to go back there.

He was afraid of what they all thought of him now.

"Let me go with you." She said and before he could refuse, she completed her thought. "They know we're together. Let them see that I am doing this of my own free will. That you are no deviant or rapist."

He swallowed hard at her words, looking blankly at his phone, fighting with himself in his mind.

"…only this one time. On the condition that you stay next to me all the time and don't speak. Do you understand? Even if I tell them something you don't like. You can't rebuke me in front of my men." He said coolly, looking at her carefully, and she sighed.

"Do you really think I could do this to you?" She asked in pain, seeing that he was closing himself in the stone fortress of his mind again.

Something changed in his gaze, warmth and affection flashed across his face, proof that he felt something deep inside himself at her words.

"No. Of course not." He whispered in shame, looking down at his fingers as if to remind himself that, in fact, she had never done anything to hurt him.

That she had always been on his side.

She wasn't quite sure how a mafia boss's girlfriend should present herself: she imagined girls in short leather skirts and cabaret tights, with cut-out cleavage and strong, defiant make-up.

She decided she wasn't going to pretend to be someone she wasn't and wore a simple, black, tight-fitting dress, the only one she had with her, her hair loose and falling in light waves over her shoulders.

She wondered if her uncle would comment on her appearance in any way, he, however, was immersed deep in his thoughts, clearly impatient, walking around the room.

"Ready?" He asked as she turned towards him, and she nodded.

"Let's go."

As they got into the car, midnight struck on the clock: all around them the road was empty and dark. She swallowed quietly as she looked at her fingers, wondering if she should ask.

She decided, however, that she couldn't stand it and needed to know.

"Will Alys be there too?"

She noticed out of the corner of her eye that he flinched at the mention of that name and glanced at her quickly, surprised, looking back at the road after a moment.

"No. Where did that question come from?" He asked, forcing himself to be calm, but she heard his voice tremble.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he was terrified.

That there was something between them that he didn't want her to know about.

"She told me that you were sleeping with each other. I found out from her that you overdosed." She explained, turning her gaze towards the side window, feeling an unpleasant discomfort in her heart.

The thought of their naked, sweaty bodies entwined together, their heavy breaths, her hands trailing over his skin made her feel tears under her eyelids.

She heard him draw in a loud breath, at once terrified, impatient and frustrated, his tongue licking his lower lip before he spoke his next sentence.

"There's been nothing between us for over a year. Since…" He didn't finish and she looked at him, wondering if what she was thinking had happened.

He revealed to me the name he calls you by accident.

Let's just say it slipped out to him in a moment of elation because he forgot it wasn't you lying beneath him.

She remained silent, feeling that he was tense and angry, sensing subconsciously that if she kept dragging the subject and asking more questions, he would eventually explode.

There has been nothing between us for over a year.

Although she should be relieved, her body was filled with sadness, tears one after the other running down her cheeks at the thought that instead of writing her off, meeting her, he preferred to fuck another woman, to spend time with her, to open his heart to her.

"– hey – hey, baby – I told you, there's nothing between us anymore – why are you crying? –" He asked in a shaky voice, placing his hand on hers, his voice soft and quivering as his thumb stroked her skin in a gesture he surely wanted to comfort her with.

"– I wrote to you for eight years – begging you to see me – to talk to me – and you spent that time with her – that realisation hurts me so much –" She muttered in a breaking voice, suddenly bursting into sobs, hiding her face in her free hand, the other held clenched on his.

"– baby, no – no, no, no, shhh –" He mumbled out in a panic, stopping at the side of the road, leaning over her immediately as he switched on the emergency lights.

He stroked her cheek and unbuckled her seatbelt, pulling her close to him, and though she didn't want it, she allowed him to lift her awkwardly and sit her on his lap.

She twisted, trying to find some more comfortable position as his arms locked her in a tight embrace, snuggling her face into his neck. His lips placed several warm, lingering, sticky kisses on the skin of her face before he sighed heavily, apparently trying to gather his thoughts.

"– I was afraid to meet you – I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to let you go – that I would pull you down with me – and that's exactly what happened – with her I was only fulfilling my fantasies about you, but we weren't in a relationship – we were both sleeping with other people at the time as well –" He muttered and she just listened, shocked by his words, letting his fingers comb lazily through her long hair.

"– the first woman I fucked was twenty years older than me – I guess I was looking for a reflection of my mother in her and just wanted someone to hug me – when she put her hand in my trousers, when she sat on top of me – mmm – I felt dirty – I closed my eyes then and thought of you – I imagined you lying on a towel on the beach in a bathing suit, reading a book – I imagined that you looked at me and smiled – that you held out your hand to me and told me we should go swimming – that as soon as we were submerged in the water up to your waist, I drew you to me and kissed you –"

He whispered in a trembling, breaking voice, and she just continued in his embrace, horrified and heartbroken by what she was hearing, feeling herself whooping with her own tears as she tried to catch her breath.

They both sighed as one of his hands slid down to her thigh, travelling lower and lower.

"– I imagined that you enjoyed it – that you moaned when I enclosed your buttocks in my hands – when my fingers pushed the material of your panties aside and sunk in here –" He muttered, clearly letting his fantasies carry him away, brushing his lips against her neck as his fingers slid under the material of her underwear, invading her warm womanhood, dripping and pulsing because of his words.

"– I imagined that you were leaking for me – that when I slipped my fingers into you, you were all wet – ah –" He moaned as, in keeping with his words, he teased her throbbing pussy, moist and slick under his fingers, two of them slowly sliding deep into her slit.

"– Aemond – yes –" She whimpered and they kissed, hot and passionate, panting into each other's mouths, her hips involuntarily beginning to roll back and forth to the rhythm of his hand, letting his fingertips go as deep as he desired.

His tongue burst between her sweet, puffy lips at her words with his grunt of satisfaction, his hand let go of her and reached for his belt, undoing it in a quick, nimble motion.

"– come here –" He whispered, watching with dreamy eyes as she turned in his lap, slipping her panties off her legs, feeling like she was having déjà vu.

It had looked exactly the same when he had betrayed her.

She knew he wouldn't do it this time – the almost childlike helplessness in his eyes, his wide-open mouth, his erection pulsing in his hand which he squeezed with primitive, simple strokes merely looking at her.

She settled herself over him, slowly lowering herself onto the thick head of his cock: they both sighed loudly, wrinkling their brows as if in pain, their hands stroking their cheeks and hair in some powerless attempt to soothe each other.

"– Rhaenys –" He called out to her, as if melting into the darkness that was his heart, like Hades who called out to his Persephone from the cold, terrifying underworld, unable to bear separation any longer, wanting his wife back.

She was like Cora, stolen from her mother by her own uncle, the god of death, cold as black marble, who devoured her and her light every day.

She moaned into his mouth at that thought, letting their lips melt together in greedy, loud, fiery kisses full of their saliva, their tongues colliding and licking each other, their hands clenched on their bodies refusing to let go.

A pleasant tingling sensation rippled through her lower abdomen as she let him slide deep inside her, all the way in, responding eagerly to his every sharp, sure push.

"– yes – yes, yes, yes, baby, yes –" He breathed out into her throat, thrusting his hips forward so that he slammed into her at the angle where he could give her the greatest pleasure. She hugged his neck, pressing her forehead against his, looking deeply into his eyes, seeing in them everything she wanted.

He was helpless, weak, thirsty, terrified, in love.

"– please –" He mumbled, and she snuggled into him, sinking her swollen lips into his, feeling her weeping cunt begin to throb around his erection, sucking it inside. They both groaned, letting their bodies find their own pace, with the loud splats of their bodies building their way to their fulfilment.

"– I love you – I love you –" She whispered into his mouth again, again and again, feeling his cock twitching deep inside her each time, all wet with her fleshy walls, dripping with her desire, his fingers digging hard into the soft skin of her ass letting her know he was close to his peak.

His free hand tightened on her hair and his lips pressed against hers as he came inside her, bursting into a sob the sound of which was muffled by her throat, his eyes clenched in pleasure and pain as one by one tears began to run down his cheeks red with emotion.

There were no words with which she could reassure him, explain to herself or him the relief they felt when they both finally came to terms with what had happened, the fact that there was never any going back for them, that all the bad decisions they had made were because they believed they would only be a disappointment to each other.

Meanwhile, he had found peace, solace, fulfilment in her.

His lost haven.

She cuddled him into her, letting him snuggle against her chest, his arms enclosing her in a tight grip as her hand stroked his hair and face slowly, trying to reassure him.

"– I'm here – it's alright – shhh, my love –" She whispered, her voice like the quiet hum of the sea.

She felt him tremble all over with emotion, his breath heavy and uneven, his embrace pathetically childlike, innocent, wanting only to find shelter.

They lingered like this for a long time, trailing their fingers over each other's bodies, once in a while placing a gentle, warm, soft kiss on each other's skin, his soft manhood still deep inside her. His free hand stroked her bare buttock exactly as it had been before he had forcibly taken her for himself, never to return her again.

Her heart belonged to him.

Before she slid off him she kissed his forehead and his hand found hers, squeezing it, looking straight into her eyes.

"– I've never kissed any of them – I've never fallen asleep next to any of them –" He mumbled, and she smiled, wide and genuine.

They kissed again, this time tenderly and innocently, like when they were children, eight years ago, their lips only pressed together.

She sat down on the seat next to him as he switched off the emergency lights and moved on, trying hard in the darkness to find her panties. When she finally succeeded, she put them on over her legs and sighed.

His hand found hers blindly, their fingers entwined in a warm, sweet embrace.

Her heart was filled with affection so intense that she felt like it would burst.

When they got out of his car and she saw the big blue neon sign in front of her with the words Heavenly Beach and the two palm trees standing just outside the entrance, she felt herself grow sick at the mere memory of what had happened to her there – her uncle must have seen the horror in her eyes, as he walked up to her and placed his hand on her back.

"– let's go –" He said, his hand rising from her back to her shoulder, stroking her skin with his thumb.

The security guards standing in front of the entrance made big eyes at the sight of them – or rather at the sight of her uncle – and of course let them pass without a line, muttering under their breath a quiet ‘good evening, boss’.

He, however, did not answer them, not even bestowing a single glance on them, stepping into his role – when she looked at his face it was like stone, his gaze blank and dark.

Exactly as it was then, that day, during his father's birthday, when they were talking on the pier.

He let her walk in front of him between the people, but his fingers touched her waist, her shoulder, or her back again and again, as if he wanted to give her a sense of security, the fact that he was close and nothing was threatening her.

She swallowed hard as she saw that people sitting at tables or dancing on the dance floor were looking at them, saying something to each other, intrigued and terrified.

She wondered if they had just talked to each other about the fact that she was the famous girl he was related to and liked to fuck.

Although she shouldn't, she felt amusement and pride at the thought.

For her he had given up everything.

For her he defied his grandfather.

For her, he became a different kind of monster.

Her Hades.

When they reached the lodge where his men and associates were apparently seated, everyone froze: there were young girls hugging most of them, some looking more defiant, others sweet, laughing loudly, looking at her with big eyes.

On the table, besides whisky and vodka, lay a white powder that they were apparently just snorting through their noses.

She stopped and looked at her uncle, not knowing what to do or where to sit, after a moment, however, several men moved over, making room for them, seating themselves on the other side.

"– come –" He whispered in her ear so that she barely heard it, his hand touching her back.

So she sat up first, not knowing where to look, and he sat down beside her, his hand immediately on the side of her waist, holding her close.

"– why are there such delays in payment? – I warned your father that one more situation like this and I would take over the Black Storm – I knew he had problems with reading, but I didn't know he had them with counting as well –" Her uncle hissed harshly and coldly, looking over the gathered with a gaze from which she herself shuddered, yet feeling no fear.

His thumb stroked her waist almost invisibly, but she felt it, his gesture indicating that she shouldn't worry about it and let him do his thing.

One of the girls twisted in place, crossing her legs, bending over slightly, probably because she wanted her rather impressive cleavage to be seen better. She smiled in a way that was probably meant to be seductive, but she wasn't sure it impressed her uncle.

When she looked at his face she could see that he was bored and impatient.

"– my father is not happy with the fact that you have assigned him so few people – by having so much goods coming through the club, he thinks he deserves more protection –" She said, fiddling with her necklace with the logo of some expensive, tacky shop.

"– Floris –" Her uncle began, rather calmly and gently. "– don't piss me off –"

The girl swallowed hard, her hand frozen in a half-motion, as if she wondered if she had overheard herself.

"– your father got as much of my people as I saw fit – if he has a grievance, let him sell the club back to me and I'll pay him off – the deal was different – several of my boys complained about you and your sisters not knowing the boundaries of good manners and that you make them drive around town like princesses in their free time –" He said coldly, complete silence all around him.

She looked at him in disbelief, seeing the fire in his gaze, his jaw clenched in rage, his fingers on her waist involuntarily digging into her skin under her dress.

Her heart was pounding like mad.

Floris licked her full lower lip, clearly thinking hard about something.

"– is that your famous niece? – her persona is already legendary in our circles –" She said, something in her uncle's gaze that frightened her.

His face was suddenly indifferent, his irises completely black and empty: she thought he looked like a predator who was just looking at his prey.

She involuntarily touched his thigh, wanting to reassure him, but he didn't look at her, apparently afraid that he would then step out of his role.

"– what's your name? –" She turned suddenly towards her, all eyes on them.

She froze, not knowing what to do or say, for she was not supposed to speak after all – she looked at her uncle, his gaze fixed on her face, full of pain, rage, but also affection.

She felt his hand stroke her waist, his wordless permission for her to speak.

She looked around at the faces around her, men and women huddled against their chests, staring at her as if she were some rare object in a museum they were looking at from behind glass.

"– Rhaenys –" She whispered.

She felt his hand on the back of her head, and with a soft movement he forced her to lean in, nuzzling her face into the hollow of his neck, as if he wanted to protect her.

"– you will get one more of my men, but no more driving you shopping or to the beautician – my men are not your dogs –" He said coolly, but already a little more politely, as if he hoped that if he complied with her request, she would leave her alone.

Floris wanted to say something, but was interrupted by another man, tanned and handsome, with dark hair elegantly combed back and an evenly trimmed beard.

"– we have a problem with one of the deliveries – several packages are stuck at the border – the police are bribed, but the prosecutor's office is snooping around and trying to get the secret service involved –" He said, and her uncle sighed heavily, hugging her closer to him, putting his hand on her head so that he covered her ear.

He didn't want her to listen.

"– talk to who you need to talk to, Cole – we're not short of money, but we're short of trusted people – we need someone in the prosecutor's office – let them focus on the human traffickers, not us –" He said, but she heard it as if through a fog, the blinking, bright lights around her tiring her already exhausted eyes, so she just closed them.

She could hear conversations and music all around her, felt her uncle glancing down at her, stroking her back, apparently wanting her to just fall asleep in his embrace. As a natural reflex, she placed her hand on his chest, where his heart was beating, and he did not push her away.

She could feel him smoking a cigarette, the smell of his black leather jacket, his aftershave and his own scent calmed her, making her finally do what he wanted and fall asleep.

She shuddered when she felt him shake her gently, there was no one around them on the couch. He took a strand of her hair behind her ear, his lips placing a soft, tender kiss on her forehead.

"– we'll sleep here in my office and drive back to the hotel in the morning – okay? –" He whispered, and she only nodded.

She let him take her in his arms and lift her up, holding her buttocks. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging her cheek to his, seeing the last drunken people sitting at the bar and dancing on the dance floor, barely able to stay on their feet, as if through a haze.

They walked into some dark corridor, then she heard the clack of keys and the sound of a door opening. When they got inside it was completely dark until he turned on the desk lamp – he walked over to the sofa and laid her on it, pulling his leather jacket off over her head.

He turned off the light and came to her, laying on the cramped space behind her back, covering their bodies with his jacket, his face snuggled into the hollow of her neck, his hands closed on her breasts.

"– sleep – you're safe with me –" He whispered, and she simply tightened her fingers on his arms, surrounded by his wonderfully familiar warmth.

"– you're my Hades – and I'm your Persephone – that's how I see us –" She hummed, half asleep, and he froze, cuddling her into himself harder.

"– Persephone –" She heard him hum next to her ear and closed her eyes, feeling at peace.

His Queen of the Underworld.

She thought she had only been sleeping for a few minutes when the alarm clock on his phone snapped them out of their deep slumber, but it turned out that it had actually been several hours. They left the club through the back exit to which her uncle had the keys and got into his car, barely conscious and tired.

"– I need to get a coffee at some station –" He muttered, starting the engine, and she nodded.

She couldn't believe that the boy who sat next to her now and the one she saw then, at that table, were the same person.

They stopped at the station to buy themselves something to drink and to eat. Her boyfriend stepped behind her, placing his hands on her hips, leaning over her ear.

"– look how many lollipops you have, a whole lot to choose from – I'll buy you some if you want –" He murmured, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, and she smiled involuntarily, feeling a pleasant warmth in her belly at his words.

"– strawberry –" She said and heard him smile too, satisfied.

"– I'll have coffee, tea, two sandwiches, this strawberry lollipop and this candy bracelet –" He said and she hugged him like a teddy bear, feeling only joy, only peace.

She didn't know how it was possible that they were so happy, that in some fucked up, unexplained way it was working.

They, together.

It seemed so right.

As they moved further down the road it was just beginning to dawn. Eating her lollipop and looking around it was only after a while that she noticed they were driving the wrong way.

"– where are we going? – you need to turn back –" She said, looking behind her, feeling a sudden attack of panic and terror.

No, no, no, no, please, God, no.

Her uncle looked at her surprised, his mouth parted wide when he realised what had frightened her.

"– no – no, baby, easy – we'll go back to the hotel, but later – there's one place I want to visit on the way – nothing bad, I promise –" He said, squeezing her hand in his, but she remained uneasy until she realised that she had seen the landscapes they passed before.

They were driving to the sea.

She felt a tightness in her throat as he parked close to the beach, on the other side of which was the large villa that now belonged to him, where they had then spent their entire holiday.

As soon as they got out of the car she was struck by the pleasant, crisp sea breeze, the squeal of seagulls flying over their heads and that familiar hum. She moved ahead thinking how when she was a child it all seemed so much bigger to her, reaching into infinity, as if this sea had no end.

She felt the tears one by one run down her face as she heard their childish voices in the back of her head, the precious coins, shells, cartridges and bottles they found, thinking themselves explorers.

She pulled off her shoes as she stepped onto the sand, wanting to feel it under her feet – it was pleasantly warm and soft, slightly damp, exactly as she remembered it. She only stopped at the shore, the salt water washing over the toes of her feet, the sun rising lazily over the horizon.

She felt his arms embrace her shoulders, snuggling her back into his body, his lips placed a soft, gentle kiss on her neck.

"– in my fantasies, I always imagined that I would take you here again – that I would be standing with you, as I am now, watching the sun rise –" He said, she heard him smile, while at the same time his voice was breaking, as if he was as moved as she was.

Her fingers clenched on his arms at the thought, her hair blown by the light breeze.

"– have you often thought about what we have lost here? –" She asked quietly, looking far ahead, thinking that somehow a new day had dawned for them too.

She swallowed hard when his fingers ran over the inside of her wrist, tracing the thin line of her scar.

"– relentlessly – it was like torture – thinking of hundreds of scenarios – what would have happened if I hadn't been your uncle, if my father hadn't been submerged in all that shit, if I hadn't lost an eye then, if Rhaenyra hadn't taken you away from there that day –" He said with a regret from which she felt a sting in her heart.

She looked at him over her shoulder, and his full lips, in some natural, sweet reflex of tenderness, placed a warm, soft kiss on her forehead.

"– I took you from your mother – I forced you to sink into the darkness with me –" He whispered, stroking her silky cheek with his thumb, something in the look of his healthy eye from which she felt a pleasant pulsing between her thighs.

"– it was my choice this time –"

He swallowed hard at her words, something in his gaze from which she felt a shiver, as if he had made a decision.

"– I want to be the father of your children – I want us to be a family – to have a home – a future –" He whispered, letting her go slowly – as she turned, he saw that he had knelt down.

"– Aemond, what are you –" She gasped, terrified, unsure if he really wanted to do what she was thinking, his gaze hot and pleading, filled with tears.

"– I want it, Rhaenys – fuck, I've always wanted it – I don't give a shit about this country, about the law, about morality, about good manners, about how and why we're related –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, looking at her with eyes big with terror and affection, making her heart stop in her throat.

"– but if I pay the right people, if we get a dispensation, we can have a religious marriage, the one in the church – I don't give a damn if I have to bribe the Pope himself and all the cardinals in the Vatican, I don't care how long it takes – please –" He sobbed, clamping his hands on her waist, pressing his face into her stomach, trying to catch his breath.

She swallowed hard, feeling her hands tremble, still raised in the air, tears one by one running down her face red with emotion.

After all, they had been together for such a short time, she thought.

And yet they had loved each other all their lives.

"– yes –" She whispered.

She saw him lift his head, meeting her gaze, his lips parted in a heavy breath of shock and disbelief.

"– do you mean it? –"

She nodded, not knowing what more she could say, feeling helpless and ashamed.

"– we've completely lost our minds –" She mouthed, wiping her red face, trying to calm down as he got up quickly from his knees, reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket.

She involuntarily burst out laughing when she saw that he had taken out the candy bracelet he had bought her earlier at the station.

"– what? – they didn't have rings – I had a difficult task –" He grunted, putting the bracelet on her wrist, sweet and colourful.

She looked up at him with a smile as he pulled her close, looking at her with a gaze in which she saw only love.

"– then you get to pick out a real ring for yourself, and this is something you can eat – it's a win-win situation –" He purred, and as she threw her arms around his neck they kissed tenderly, melting their lips together in a warm, moist kiss.

She stroked his cheek as he pressed his forehead against hers, both of them looking sideways towards the building that had once belonged to his father.

"That's where we'll raise our children. One day."

They walked the distance to the house where they had spent that holiday on foot along the beach, holding hands, taking exactly the same route as every day when they seemed to be the happiest children in the world.

When they finally arrived at their destination and her uncle opened the door with the keys he had taken out of his trouser pocket, she was struck by how, although everything looked the same, it was completely different. The main hall and corridor seemed cramped to her, the smell inside was stifling, indicative of the fact that no one had gone inside for many years.

They both made their way up the stairs – she involuntarily headed for the room that belonged to her at the time.

She looked inside, feeling some strange kind of discomfort and fear, as if she were about to see something terrifying. However, she saw before her an ordinary, bright little room with white wooden furniture, the bed she had slept on for the first few nights, a desk, a few chairs and a wardrobe.

She approached it with a smile, seeing that it was, as always, slightly ajar, the long, old gowns of Alicent sticking out of it.

"– I always thought it was the tentacles of a monster – that's what it looked like at night – I was afraid someone was hiding inside and would devour me –" She said, stepping closer, tucking the soft material into her fingers, feeling her uncle's presence behind her.

She heard him swallow hard, his fingers running over her back in an affectionate gesture.

"– let's go to my room –"

She stared at the bookshelf filled with small volumes of Mighty Vhagar stories panting along with him, hearing his grunts and sighs of pleasure at her ear each time with the soft, lazy thrust of his hips he sank into her moist, warm flesh, welcoming him home.

They were bare; the embrace of their arms held them close, as if they felt subconsciously that they needed to experience this together, here, in this place, to take something that had been taken from them. Her fingers traveled along his neck and down his spine to his buttocks, kneading them in her palms, his low groan of pleasure and the shudder that shook him testified to what he thought of her touch.

"– who took you for the first time? – hm? –" He breathed out into her ear, stroking her soft hair, slowly quickening his pace.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back, letting his full, thirsty mouth find the crook of her neck, her leaking pussy opening again and again on his hard, swollen erection, filled to the brim with him.

"– you – here, on this bed –" She whispered and felt his cock throb harder inside her, delighted by her response. His fingers clamped down on the soft skin of her cheeks, forcing her to look at him, his mouth wide open, his gaze clouded with pleasure and something else, darker, deeper.

"– are you sure? – not some Robb? –" He hissed, something in his words sounding both threatening and despairing at the same time, his deep desire to regain everything in his mind he had lost over these eight years.

She shook her head, combing her fingers through his short hair, spreading her thighs wider in front of him, rocking her hips in response to his lustful, sharp thrusts, the slapping of their bodies against each other loud and shameless, sticky with her moisture.

"– no – Alys, Robb – it was just a dream, my love –" She whispered. His brow arched in pain as he leaned towards her, his puffy, moist lips finding hers in a sweet, tender, warm kiss, at once childlike and mature, full of affection.

They groaned into each other's throats as his wide hands clamped down on the soft skin of her buttocks, his hips began to slam into her slick, throbbing pussy as if he wanted to erase any trace that deep inside her could ever be another man.

"– I will never let you go –" He breathed out, their tongues meeting halfway, licking the very tips of each other, making them both gasp with delight.

She threw her arms around his neck and let him sink into her mouth, his body pressing her to the bed, which creaked loudly beneath their silhouettes writhing in ecstasy, the slaps and clicks of her moisture so loud that its sound brought her to the edge of her peak.

"– uncle – take care of me – ah –" She mewled and threw her head back, moaning from the sweet delight that shook her body, his loud, surprised gasp told her that he had come too, his body froze in stillness, wanting to focus only on the greedy pulsing of their bodies around each other.

She felt his warm seed inside her, a pleasant tingling in her lips, in her nipples and the corners of her fingers at the thought that her own uncle loved her a little too much.

Afterwards, they lay in silence, cuddled into each other: her head was lying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, the fingers of his hand roaming her naked body from her shoulders, to her head, neck and back, making her shiver.

"– our parents will never accept this –" She whispered, stroking his stomach with her hand. She heard him sigh softly, his fingers combing through her hair.

"– it's too late anyway –"

Although they were terribly tired and could barely see with their eyes, trying to stay awake while they worked, they were both happy. Even though no one understood the meaning of the bracelet on her wrist, he kept playing with it when he said or asked her something, making her walk around smiling all day.

And then she noticed her mother in the distance talking to her professor.

"Miss Strong. Would you please come over?" He called out, and she froze, feeling her heart stop beating.

She'd endured anything, the screams of Daemon and Jace, but not this.

Not her.

When she looked at her uncle, she saw panic in his eyes.

She lowered her head and moved forward, unable to even look at her.

They sat down in one of the tents where the workers usually rested during breaks, but now it was empty, and she knew that this conversation could not be heard by anyone.

Her mother's hand clamped down on hers as soon as he sat down next to her, its familiar touch making her feel tears welling under her eyelids and a deep, all-encompassing shame.

"Why aren't you answering your phone? Do you know what it feels like to die of worry and then hear that your child has turned up with a gangster at his club? What did he do to you that you do things like that, get sucked into this world?" She asked in pain, and she remained silent, looking at her legs, feeling her whole body was shaking.

When she finally looked at her, what she said slipped out of her involuntarily.

"Then, during that holiday by the sea, before he lost his eye. We kissed. I was even his girlfriend for a while. He let me sleep in his bed when I was afraid of the dark." She muttered, feeling the tears of shame run down her face one by one.

Rhaenyra shook her head, looking at her as if she did not understand what she had just heard.

"It never ended between us, Mum. Quite the contrary. We sleep together. We are together." She sobbed out with difficulty, and her mother took her hand from hers, looking at her with wide eyes.

"What did he do to you, what did he put into your head to make you do such awful things? He is using you to show everyone that he has me and Daemon in his grasp. That he rules this city because neither I nor his grandfather can do anything to him now. He brags about you like a trophy. Good God, this is not how I raised you." She said in a quivering voice full of regret and disappointment, from which her heart broke.

She pressed her lips together, playing with the bracelet on her wrist in a nervous gesture, seeing a scar beneath it, his two faces, two parts of his love.

Light and Darkness.

Kora and Persephone.

Her mother had to come to terms with the fact that from now on she would spend part of the year in Hades.

She drew in air loudly, whooping with tears, not knowing what to say.

The words he loves me sounded so cheesy and naïve.

"I love him, Mom. I want to stay by his side."

Her mother shook her head, as if her words had made something inside her snap.

"He will destroy you. He'll drown you in his own greed like tar. He's already done it. He manipulated you into leaving us, your own family."

"It was my decision." She said in pain, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her breath heavy and ragged.

"You have completely lost your mind." She said coldly, rising from her seat, making her freeze all over, feeling a squeeze in her throat. "The door to your home will always remain open for you when your common sense returns. You are an adult and sooner or later you will feel the consequences of your choice. You will never be safe again, you will never be able to go anywhere alone, he will create a cage for you, just like…"

"… just like the one Daemon created for us? I've managed to get used to it. I, at least, don't pretend to be free." She growled, surprised by her own words.

Her mother pressed her lips together in pain and walked out, leaving her with a complete emptiness in her mind.

She felt awful – as she walked out, she felt the sun hit her hard, her face flooded with tears. Her uncle approached her quickly, horror and concern on his face.

"– what did she say? – no, no, calm down – calm down, shhh, come here –" He muttered as she went into a state of complete panic, covering her face with her hands, bursting into such a strong sob that she felt like she was about to spit out her own lungs.

She was unable to control herself or calm down, everything around her seemed to be spinning, his warm hands and arms cradling her was the only thing that kept her from falling to her knees.

You will never be safe again.

You will never be able to go anywhere alone again.

He will create a cage for you.

But wasn't that the life she had lived for as long as she could remember?

Her father, Daemon, her uncle.

She was never free.

She just didn't realise it as a child.

That night they only embraced, but there was something beautiful about it: the thought that he knew she didn't want sex now, but his closeness and tenderness, his broad hands stroking her back and hair, his full lips kissing again and again her forehead and nose.

"When I live with you, will I be able to go out alone?" She asked quietly, and he swallowed hard, running his fingers down her back, surprised by her question.

"Well… it depends where and during what time of day." He said uncertainly, tense.

She pressed her hands tighter against his warm skin – it was so hot he was only wearing black tracksuit bottoms.

"To the shop. To the bookshop. To class." She whispered, his lips placing another warm kiss on her forehead, clearly wanting to soften what was about to leave his throat.

"I'm constantly being watched. People who don't wish me well probably already know that you're not just a chick I fuck. You are my weakness and if I lose my guard, they will try to take advantage of that. I would prefer to keep the risk that something could happen to you to a complete minimum." He explained hesitantly, brushing his fingertips against her collarbone.

"So no." She said regretfully, feeling an unpleasant chokehold in her throat at the thought that she had escaped from one cage only to be locked in another.

She heard him sigh as he lifted her chin with his finger so that she looked at him.

"If something were to happen to you because of me. How would I explain it to your mother? To Daemon? How would I continue to live with it? We can go to your classes together. You can be driven to the shop and other places by my people, who will just wait for you in the car and not bother you. We will work something out. You are not my prisoner, but I have to keep you safe in some way. Do you understand me?" He asked, and she looked at him.

"Are you going to check my phone?"

"No."

"How can I be sure?"

"I trust you."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, his fingers tracing gently across her cheek making her feel a pleasant shiver run down her spine.

"I want you to take me with you when you run your errands."

"Absolutely not." He replied immediately, his face curved in an expression full of annoyance and frustration.

"Why? You did it last time." She muttered in pain, feeling rejected, like a small child who could not be trusted with an adult task.

"It was a mistake. I exposed you." He said regretfully, his thumb running over the line of her jaw. "It will never happen again."

"So you're going to come back in the morning to fuck me, have breakfast, go for a walk with Vhagar, sleep off, and then disappear again, leaving me alone?" She asked with despair, unsure if she could bear what he asked of her.

She saw him press his lips together, horrified at how it sounded from her mouth, certainly simply not knowing what to say.

"What do you expect from me?" He asked quietly. She was silent for a moment, feeling the quick pounding of her heart.

"Honesty. If I have to endure this in silence, I want to know what's going on. I want you to tell me what's happening in your clubs and pubs, what problems you're having, what you're facing, who you're seeing. Because if you can't give me either honesty, freedom or choice, then there's no hope for us."

"Would you leave otherwise?" He asked, looking at her with his eyebrows arched in pain, stroking her warm cheek with his palm.

"If you had locked me away, told me nothing and treated me as your consolation prize after a hard day? What would you do if I made you sit in my flat, while I met with Robb? You would certainly be a happy, fulfilled man then." She said coldly, making him swallow hard, lowering his gaze in shame.

"In that case, I'll tell you everything." He whispered.

She shook her head and grinned under her breath, feeling tears under her eyelids.

"You know what the worst thing is? That I don't believe you."

He looked at her, his eyes big and filled with suffering, as if something in those words of hers had hurt him particularly badly.

"I'm trying."

She felt her heart squeeze at his words, which were so simple, so direct.

So sincere.

Because, after all, she knew they were true.

"I know."

He licked his lower lip and drew in air, as if he was thinking very hard about what he wanted to say, as if he was afraid he wouldn't be able to describe it properly.

"I get the feeling that whatever I do – no matter how hard I try – it's not enough for you. You always want more. As if it were that simple. To protect you at the same time, to meet all your needs, to not come into conflict with Daemon and to be a good student. I stand caught between dozens of things and get lost in it. The right choice in one context is the wrong one in another. I don't know what to do to please you anymore." He confessed in a trembling voice filled with regret, sadness and fatigue, from which she felt ashamed.

While her feelings and thoughts were valid, she realised on hearing his words that she had put an enormous amount of pressure on him without even thinking about how he would be able to bring all these things together and at the same time make their world not fall apart.

"You're right. I'm sorry." She whispered, his eyes growing wide in surprise, as if he hadn't expected to hear that from her. "I know how hard you're trying. I'm proud of you and I love you more than ever before. The reason I have a lot of concerns is because I realise how difficult our situation is. I just want us to succeed."

"I want us to succeed too." He muttered. "It's the only thing I want. But please, baby, try to understand me."

There was something sweet and natural about the way their bodies snuggled into each other and embraced, wanting to comfort and soothe each other, to give them the feeling that they were trying to find their way together.

She decided that there was no turning back for her now.

Parting from him would mean that she would always be dying in agony.

When their work ended, their professor thanked and congratulated them all, telling them that all the objects they found would be exhibited in the castle museum after conservation.

Her fiancé was tired, but also happy: after just a few days there he was able to work independently, knew the procedures and was able to find his way in this rather chaotic world.

The oldest thing he found were the remains of a beautiful medieval steel dagger, of which he even took a photo as a souvenir.

She thought fondly that their childhood play had turned into a passion.

They were both excited at the thought of her moving into his apartment. It was in the city centre in a very nice, modern high-rise building and was surprisingly large.

When she stepped inside, she noticed a huge space stretching out in front of her: the gigantic living room was decorated with nice modern dark wood furnitures. A big sofa, bookshelves and a TV was practically all that was there – one of the walls was composed of only windows, making the whole room seem incredibly bright.

Adjacent to the living room was the kitchen on one side, while on the other stretched a small corridor leading to other rooms and the bathroom.

"Where is Vhagar?" She asked, not seeing her or her bedding. Her uncle looked at her surprised, placing their bags on the floor.

"At Helaena's. She took care of her while we were away. She'll bring her back tonight." He explained and nodded for her to follow him.

He opened one of the rooms in front of her, which looked like a gym and storage for things that didn't fit in the other rooms.

"It can be your room. So you can run away from me when you want and all that. I'll organise a gym in the basement, it's quite spacious." He hummed, running his hand over her back. She looked up at him and nodded.

"I've ordered a removal team for your house. They should bring everything tomorrow if they don't encounter any difficulties." He said, heading towards the kitchen. "I don't have anything to eat. We have to go shopping."

They spent the rest of the day lazily – they cooked the simplest spaghetti and ate it while watching TV – there was a programme on ancient Egyptian history that was airing at the time, which piqued their interest, so they just spread out on the sofa with their bowls and listened to a lecture by one of Egypt's most famous archaeologists as he spoke about the pyramid at Giza.

It was so wonderfully normal.

She felt uncomfortable when Helaena brought Vhagar – she didn't know where to look, thinking with shame that she must have thought she was a complete idiot after trying to take her own life by living with the man who did this to her in the first place.

"Are you two together?" She asked softly, and her brother nodded.

"I'm glad. Take care of each other." She said, and she felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she was the first person to wish them well.

Her uncle looked at her, a gentle smile on his face that made her hot.

Hades and Persephone.

"We will."

_____

Author's note: My husband often asks me when we argue what I expect from him and describes his feelings about how the situation looks from his perspective. He doesn't do it maliciously, and it helps me understand that sometimes I really want something different than what I say and that there is often a lot of truth in his words. I didn't know for a long time how to lead the conversation between Aemond and Rhaenys at the very end when they talk about their future and difficult topics and it turned out that the best scripts are written by life, lol.

[its-avalon-08]

it all fell down (ln4)

part11

multipart story! part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8 part9 part10

✦ pairing - lando norris x female reader

very important note at the end - pls read it

summary : lando norris and y/n were friends for 20 years, fell in love and dated for five. until it all fell down. they left each others lives abruptly and never spoke again, until they met again in the most unexpected way. can they find their way back or will certain scars never heal?

Y/N and Lando walked back to her apartment in silence, the cool rain still falling lightly around them. Their hands were entwined, the contact grounding them as they made their way through the quiet streets. Every step felt like a promise, every glance a reassurance that they were finally on the same page, ready to confront the past that had haunted them for so long.

As they entered Y/N’s apartment, the familiar warmth of the space enveloped them. She flicked on the lights, casting a soft glow over the room, and dropped her keys on the counter. For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of what had happened between them settling in the air.

Lando took a deep breath, breaking the silence. “We should talk.”

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. “Yeah, we should.”

They moved to the couch, sitting down with a cautious distance between them, the tension from before replaced with a more vulnerable kind of anticipation. The kind that came from knowing that the next few minutes could either heal them or break them all over again.

Y/N was the first to speak, her voice trembling with emotion. “I never wanted things to end the way they did. I was just… scared, Lando. Scared of how much you meant to me, scared of losing myself in you. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at her, the pain of their breakup still fresh in his memory. “I get it, Y/N. I was scared too. But the way we both handled it… the things we said…”

His voice broke slightly, and Y/N reached out, her hand finding his. “We hurt each other so badly,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ve never regretted anything more than the way I treated you. I thought pushing you away would make it easier, but it just… destroyed us.”

Lando squeezed her hand, his own eyes glistening with tears. “You said dating me was a mistake, and it killed me, Y/N. I kept hearing those words over and over, wondering if you ever really loved me at all.”

Tears spilled down Y/N’s cheeks as she shook her head, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean it, Lando. I was so angry, and I just wanted to hurt you because I was hurting. But I never, ever believed that. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Lando’s breath hitched, his own tears now falling freely. “It wasn’t just you, though. I said things too, things I can’t take back. I was so hurt by what you said, I wanted you to feel the same pain I was feeling. But all it did was tear us apart.”

Y/N leaned closer, her voice breaking with emotion. “I hated myself for letting you go, for saying those things. Every day, I missed you, Lando. But I was too proud, too scared to admit that I was wrong.”

Lando’s hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. “I missed you too, more than I can even explain. But I was so angry at you, and at myself. I felt like I wasn’t enough for you, like I couldn’t make you happy.”

Y/N shook her head, more tears falling. “You were everything to me, Lando. I was just too blind to see it at the time. I let my fear control me, and I lost the most important person in my life because of it.”

Lando’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke. “I felt the same way, Y/N. I lost myself in the anger, in the pain of losing you. I started acting out, trying to forget, but nothing worked. Nothing made me feel better.”

The air between them was heavy with all the unsaid words, all the pain that had been bottled up for so long. Y/N’s heart ached as she looked at Lando, seeing the hurt in his eyes, knowing she had put it there.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “For everything. I wish I could take it all back, Lando.”

Lando shook his head, pulling her closer. “We can’t change the past, but we can start over. We can try again, if you still want that.”

Y/N’s tears flowed freely as she nodded, her heart swelling with hope. “I do, Lando. I want that more than anything. But I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Lando pressed his forehead to hers, his voice a soft, broken whisper. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N. Together this time. No more running away, no more pushing each other away. Just us, facing whatever comes together.”

Y/N let out a sob, the weight of the past finally lifting from her shoulders. “I love you, Lando. I never stopped.”

Lando’s own tears fell as he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if he would never let go. “I love you too, Y/N. And I’m not going anywhere.”

They held each other for a long time, their tears mingling as they finally let go of the pain that had kept them apart for so long. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, ready to start over.

Y/N and Lando sat on her couch, the heaviness of their earlier conversation giving way to a lighter, more playful atmosphere. The weight of their past had been lifted, leaving space for something new—something familiar, yet fresh.

Y/N curled up, tucking her legs under her as she sipped on the hot chocolate Lando had made. She glanced at him, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “So, tell me… how many dates did you go on while we were broken up?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Me? Dates? Nah, I was just too busy being a ‘man of mystery’ or whatever the tabloids were calling me.”

Y/N chuckled, nudging his shoulder. “Oh, come on. You know I kept tabs on you. You weren’t exactly subtle about it.”

Lando grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Okay, fine. I went on a few dates… but none of them ever felt right. I’d be sitting there, trying to make conversation, but all I could think about was how you would have rolled your eyes at the things they were saying.”

Y/N laughed, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. “Well, for the record, I didn’t date much either. I tried, but every guy just felt… off. They weren’t you.”

Lando’s smile softened as he looked at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “So, we were both equally terrible at moving on, huh?”

“Pretty much,” Y/N admitted, laughing. “I even went out with this one guy who was super into cars, hoping it would make things easier. But all I could think about was how much you’d love to debate him on whether Ferrari or McLaren was better.”

Lando snorted, shaking his head. “That poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”

Y/N giggled, the sound light and infectious. “Nope, not at all. And every time I’d see a photo of you with some model, I’d convince myself that I was totally over you… but then I’d stalk your Instagram and see your stories, and I’d realize I was just lying to myself.”

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I may have done some stalking myself. I’d see you posting about all the new things you were doing, and I’d try to convince myself that you were happier without me. But it only made me want to reach out more.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “It’s kind of sad, isn’t it? We were both trying so hard to move on, but we couldn’t stop thinking about each other.”

“Sad?” Lando repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I think it’s kind of sweet. We’re both just hopeless when it comes to each other.”

“Yeah, hopeless,” Y/N agreed, her voice softening. “I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with your best friend.”

Lando’s expression grew tender as he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I missed you so much, Y/N. No one could ever compare to you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, and she placed her hand over his, squeezing it gently. “I missed you too, Lando. Every single day.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, their fingers intertwined, both of them reveling in the warmth of their reunion.

Lando glanced at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, if we’d just swallowed our pride a little sooner, we could have avoided all those awful fucking dates.”

Y/N laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “True. But then we wouldn’t have these funny stories to tell.”

“Fair point,” Lando conceded, grinning. “And, hey, at least we know now that no one else stands a chance.”

Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “No one ever did, Lando. It was always you.”

Lando wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “And it was always you for me, too.”

As they sat there, cuddled up on the couch, the weight of the past fell away entirely, leaving only the warmth of the present. They were no longer two people trying to move on from each other—they were two people who had finally found their way back home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------avaspeaks - hi lovelies! im so sorry for being gone for so long, exam prep threw me for a toss and i was so occupied and busy. but now im back for good and ready to update the blog. i felt so awful for not updating because i know the frustration when a series is just left unfinished. but worry not because your girl is back and ready to finish all the requests and series!

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

taglist ---> @misspygmypie @kol67-t @sltwins @f1fantasys @sarx164 @imboredway2much @demandealalune e @elz-xo o @bellelovesharryy @hey-there9-its-me @marauders-wife @itsjustfranzi @l-sofiamia-l @ironmaiden1313 @01rrdbull @avni-sarai @maddy27

comment to get added to the taglist

[stvrnioloslvt]

the estes method - Matt Sturniolo

bf!matt × gf!reader

PART TWO HERE

disclaimer: the following content might not be suitable for everyone. please, read the triggers list before reading this story. also, english is not my first language, but i hope you enjoy it nevertheless!

triggers: ghosts, shadow figures, the estes method, kinda scary? (not a lot though, i'm the first scaredy cat out there)

inspired by the trailer of this week's episode of hell week. and yes, sam and colby make an appearance in the story. enjoy!

「 ★ ★ ★ 」

i knew it was a bad idea. i mean, as much as i loved haunted places and acting like a ghosthunter, i knew it had complications that i was not prepared for.

but when the triplets were invited by sam and colby for their new episode of hell week they had no problem in tagging me along. and, frankly speaking, i was excited. the last time i filmed with them nothing much had happened, so i was curious to discover what would happen this time. however, nothing could have prepared me for what awaited ahead of me.

1:30 a.m.

"guys, can i do the estes method?"

"you really love that method, don't you?" the cam that sam was holding went straight to my face, startling me. i chuckled as colby gave me the ok to perform it.

"by the way, am i the only one that has been seeing things since i stepped foot in this place?"

five heads turned towards me, eyes wide open.

"what did you just say?" asked nick, turning pale.

"like, shadows that aren't ours moving on the walls, figures running from one room to another...is it only me?" at that point i felt like i was going crazy: the boys didn't have that much of a different reaction, and the camera was still in my face.

"so basically what you're saying is that you have been seeing things for over an hour and you haven't said anything?" sam and colby exchanged knowing stares, probably making a mental annotation to check the footage to see if they caught anything.

"i mean, even when i saw those shadow figures right in front of you, you didn't say anything, so i thought that i was hallucinating. but like...now it's worse" i ended the sentence with a whisper, as the camera panned to the triplets' faces.

"are they touching you? talking?" at this point chris just went back and forth, watching out in case he missed something.

"no, nothing, just circling us...or me. i'm not sure. hey, do you think it might be because i drew like tons of protective sigils on me?"

"YOU WHAT?" screamed sam and colby. i stumbled back, not expecting such a strong reaction.

"yeah, i figured that it could have been dangerous to come here without some sort of protection. i drew them on the triplets too, one per each, but no one is seeing what i am seeing. do you think that they're messing with me because they cannot touch me or whatsoever?"

"could be. messing with your mind instead of directly attacking you on a physical level is definitely an option. just...let us know if something happens, ok?"

i nodded. and, as we moved through the building, i prayed to whatever existed above us to keep us safe.

i turned towards matt, who was looking at me with a worried gaze.

"baby, are you sure you are ok? we can step outside if you need to"

i smiled and tiptoed to kiss him on the cheek. our hands brushed together as matt grabbed it to keep me close to him.

"eww disgusting"

"fuck off, nick"

"you too, bitch"

2:17 a.m.

"ok guys, now that the triplets have done the estes method it is y/n's turn" as colby spoke to the camera, matt put the blindfold on my eyes. he bent down to whisper in my ear a shy "i love you", then he put the headphones around my neck.

"y/n, are you ready?"

there was something heavy in the air. something wrong, something scary. i could feel the ways the boys were tensing up, anticipating something, anything. i felt my heart beating faster, my hands cold and sweaty as i saw pitch black in front of me.

with a raspy voice i replied to sam "yeah, i'm ready."

and so it begun.

the estes method

"chris is sitting next to you. if anything happens, tap on his leg"

i took a big breath in as the headphones fell snugly on my ears.

immediately i was hit with a multitude of noises: radio interferences, tv static noise, every once in a while i caught on the voice of a woman. she sounded like she was hurting.

"one"

the thing i hated the most about this method was that from the moment in which the headphones started blasting sounds it was as if you were alone in a parallel world. no matter how hard i squinted my eyes, or how much i tried to block out those noises, i just couldn't see or hear the people that were all around me.

"no"

"pain"

"hurt"

that voice, that woman...she was scared for her life. every time she spoke i could hear her whimper, almost crying.

"guys i think it is a woman speaking and she sounds like she is in pain. i don't know if it is related to what you've been asking but i thought you would want to know it"

the noise in my ears started getting stronger, higher. i put my head in my hands that were resting on my knees, then gripped the headphones so i could hear the woman better. there was something sinister about the new noise, it seemed like it was trying to cancel out the spirit in pain.

the best way i could describe it is as if a war had started and none of the two opponents could prevail on the other. i felt my head aching in an attempt to just focus on something, anything. but as soon as i tried to do so, the noises would get even stronger, leaving me panting as if i just ran a marathon. i felt someone's hand grab my thigh and shake it hard enough for me to feel it. somebody else tried to take the headphones out of my grip, but i held them in place.

finally, i managed to hear something.

"help!" screamed the woman.

and as soon as that word left my mouth, all the noise stopped, except for the tv static noise. my breath slowed down, and i loosened up the grip on the headphones. just as i was about to ask the boys if they unplugged the device, a growling, low voice screamed in my ears "go away!"

i screamed, terrified, as i ripped the headphones away from my ears and fell on the ground in front of me. i remember calling out matt's name, and he rushed to take me in his embrace as i cried terrified of what just happened.

chaos ensured: the boys scrumbled all around me to understand what i heard, but as soon as they did that colby called out a figure standing on the doorway.

"let's go outside, we can't stay here anymore!" someone screamed, and just like that matt picked me up bridal style and ran out with the others.

"nick, open the fucking car door so i can place her inside"

"on it"

the car

"baby, are you okay?"

"fuck, she's terrified. y/n. y/n! nod if you can hear us"

i nodded. just lightly, but enough for them to notice.

"baby, can you tell us what happened? what did you hear?"

i pulled matt inside the car so he could hold me while i tried to explain in the best way possible everything without being hindered by the fear that was running through my veins.

"that's crazy. guys, i've never seen anything like that before" said colby.

"for sure. it seemed like she was in a trance. y/n, did you feel us try to take those headphones off of you ears? you had a death grip on them, seriously"

"yeah, i felt it" i whispered, still shaking in matt's embrace. the poor boy could do nothing but hold me and caress my hair in hopes that it might help me to cool down.

"there was like...noise. a lot. at first i heard the woman speaking, then something else came up and started to try cancel out the woman. the last thing she said was help, and then..."

"and then what, baby?"

"and then there was silence. no noise at all, but i still couldn't hear you guys. i was going to ask if you had unplugged the headphones but..."

was i shaking again?

chills ran down my spine at the memory of that awful, awful voice.

"c'mon baby you can do it. say it"

"all of a sudden something growled in my ear. i don't even know how to explain it, it seemed like it didn't come from the headphones. he growled go away but i heard it so fucking clearly and strong that it felt like a scream right in my ears. i'm so sorry, i didn't want to scare you, i swear"

a heavy silence doomed upon us as the boys exchanged worried looks. matt held me tighter, in an attempt to protect me from my own memories.

"we believe you, y/n, we're just shocked that this happened...have we ever lived something like this before, sam?"

"no, never. i had chills, that was fucking terrifying"

"guys i think we should wrap it up here and go home"

"yeah. matt, do you want me to drive you guys home? so you can stay in the back with y/n"

"yes, please. let's go, i really don't want to spend another second in this place."

「 ★ ★ ★ 」

would you guys like a part 2? just pure fluff, matt taking care of y/n. let me know in the comments <3

all pictures were taken from pinterest. credits to the owners!

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃/𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓

[spectorswife]

Where the Heart Never Left

Pairing: Kuai Liang/reader

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: 18+ only, SMUT with plot, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, biting, fingering, edging, afab!reader, let me know if I missed anything please.

AN: this is my first time writing a fanfiction, so I apologize in advance if this is terrible. This is definitely not proof read

This takes place during part 1 of the story, after Bihan and Kuai fought. (I have not played the DLC yet so please no spoilers) but enjoy the read :)

MDNI PLEASE

It’s been weeks since you stood by Bi-Han, trying to rebuild the Lin Kuei in his image, and every day feels heavier than the last. A part of you keeps whispering that this is the right path, but the weight of what you left behind gnaws at you constantly—your partner, Kuai Liang the only person who ever made me feel like home; who is also Bihan’s brother. You thought you could live with that choice, thought you could bury it deep enough, but it still haunts you. The memory of that day claws at your mind every night, refusing to let go. You abandoned the love of your life, betrayed him for some misplaced sense of duty, and the guilt... the guilt is suffocating. You know you've let him down; you can feel it. He’s probably disgusted, and honestly, you don’t blame him. You deserve it. You  left him to burn while you sought comfort in the cold. 

*I keep telling myself to let it go, but my mind refuses to listen, dragging me back into this endless pit of doubt. No matter how hard I try, it claws at me, screaming that I’m wrong—always wrong. It was all too much. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, so I left. I left the temple, my Grandmaster, the Lin Kuei; only for a little while. I just needed space… I needed air that wasn’t thick with guilt, shame, and judgment in every corner, hearing Kuai’s voice whispering in my head begging me to not leave and his brother telling me I’ve done the right thing. I couldn’t take it anymore, too much for me to handle.. I know I’ll go back, I have to.. That place is a part of me, no matter how much it hurts.*

——————————————————————————————————

*I’m home, but nothing feels right. I thought the voices, the guilt, would stop once I left the source of my agony altogether for a bit. But damn, it’s still here, eating away at me. I want it all to stop. I want what’s best for the clan, but not at the cost of my own sanity. I miss how things used to be. No feuds, no Shang Tsung—just... peace. Gods, I miss you.. I miss you Kuai. I miss what we were, before I walked away. Every part of me wishes you’d come back to me, even though I know I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. I can’t shake this gnawing feeling that I ruined it all, and there’s no going back now. I must live with it, even though it keeps me up at night.*

The nightmares never stop. You can barely sleep, and when you do, it’s worthless. Most nights, you stay up, trying to outrun the horrors that haunt you the moment you close your eyes, but it doesn’t matter. None of it does. Being awake is just another nightmare—one you can’t escape from. Every breath, every second, is a reminder that you're still trapped, still living the same twisted nightmare; the loss of the love of your life. Sleep offers no peace, but neither does staying awake. It’s a never-ending cycle, and you're drowning in it. All because you picked a damn side. *Damn you Shang Tsung.. Damn you.. you ripped my family apart. These brothers — they were my family. Kuai.. my love, Bihan.. my teacher My protector, Tomas.. My good friend… they were everything to me. Everything I had, and you poisoned Bihan’s mind, shattered the bonds we shared. You took them from me, turned them against each other. I’ve lost everything and… you *gained* from it.. Damn you*

———————————————————————————————

It’s one of those nights again. The nightmares come for you the moment you fall asleep, playing out the same twisted scene on repeat. Bi-Han and Kuai fighting—again. You see it all happen just like before: the ice blade slicing across your lover’s face, the blood, the pain. But this time, it’s worse. This time, Bi-Han doesn’t stop. He goes to finish it, to end Kuai right in front of you... and you’re frozen, helpless, unable to move. Just as the nightmare is about to unravel into something even darker, you’re jolted awake by a knock at the door.

You wake up, disoriented, your mind still tangled in the nightmare. Who could it be? You drag yourself to the door, every step weighed down by exhaustion, your body a mess—hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, eyes heavy with the remnants of sleep.

You open the door and you see him

Kuai? Your eyes widen instantly with still hints of sleep behind your eyes. He looks rather frantic as well..

What are you doing here? It’s late. More importantly.. Why are you here?

Kuai exhibits a rather shocked expression seeing you in your disheveled state. He didnt think you would answer the door, or quite frankly, even be home. But he quickly composes himself.

“Im sorry for waking you. I didn't realize it was this late. I couldn’t sleep myself. I just… need to speak with you.. May I come in?”

You stare at him with such a soft expression after hearing his words. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, so you allow him in without a second thought.

“I’m going back to my room to fix myself, I’m a mess right now… evidently… If you wish to follow, please don’t hesitate”

Kuai nods appreciatively and follows you into your home. As you two both enter, you can sense that something is troubling him, however youre conflicted in whether or not it’s your place to ask. But you cave in anyway.

“What’s troubling you Kuai Liang”. The thought of not being as affectionate with him anymore since the incident is killing you, but you know its not right to feel as if your entitled to it.

“It’s… a lot of things, really. But the main thing that has been on m mind these past few weeks is us. Our situation really, or better yet, our separation you can say. I know you chose Bihan’s side, but part of me feels like whats left of us is still there..”

You look back to him confused after fixing yourself up 

“I didnt think there was still an "us" Kuai Liang.. I kept telling myself that since that day. I kept telling myself that you hated me so I wouldn’t continue dwelling but- it wasn’t working”

Kuai’s heart aches as he hears your words and his gaze towards you softens as well. 

“Till this day I still don't understand why you chose his side. But I know you, and you probably have a better judgment than him. I've just been struggling with my feelings for a whole. I cant shake the memory of what we once had before the feud. I cant shake- "

Kuai hesitates for a moment before he finishes his sentence 

“I can’t shake the love that I still hold for you”

A surge of surprise and relief washes over you at his words. You decide to take a seat because its all too much to handle. Deep down, you always hoped he’d come back, but there’s a part of you that knows you don’t deserve his love—not after everything you’ve done. You can’t let yourself make any assumptions, so instead, you blurt out the question.

“What are you saying Kuai Liang…”

Kuai takes a seat next to you, there is still some tension present, your bodies aren’t facing each other but his eyes are locked onto yours as he considers what he wishes to say next.

“I’m saying I want you.. my sweet girl.. if you-  still wish to be called that. I want us together again… I miss loving you, being with you. I know with circumstances now it won’t be easy but my love for you has never died.”

You try with everything in you to look away from him, but it’s impossible. A flood of emotions crashes over you—longing, guilt, desperation. You’ve been waiting for this moment, losing sleep over it night after night. And now, here he is. Yet, the shame is overwhelming, weighing down every part of you, twisting your desire into something you can barely face.

“Sweetheart.. please.. look at me” He gently turns your face toward him, his touch soft but his gaze intense, more so than ever before. Your faces are so close now, and you can’t help but let your eyes flicker between his and his lips. Desire floods through you, but you’re torn. You *want* this—crave it, even—but deep down, you know you don’t deserve it. Not after everything.

“I’ve missed you so much. Being apart from you has been hell.”

Your gaze softens at his words yet your inner turmoil has become your worst enemy. “I’ve missed you too.. but I’ve betrayed you Kuai.. and I don’t deserve forgiveness..”

“Be that as it may..." *Kuai’s voice is firm but still carrying that softness you’ve always known.* "I believe in forgiveness, especially when it’s you. What matters now is what we choose to do from here. Are you ready to accept us, to try again? To build something stronger... together?” 

You stay silent after he speaks, the conflict inside you twisting tighter. You avoid his eyes, looking anywhere but at him, but it’s useless. His hand gently caresses your cheek, drawing you in. Slowly, the space between you fades, the tension thickening as you both move closer, your noses almost brushing. Your gazes lock, and in that moment, it’s impossible to ignore the mix of desire and love simmering between you.

“Kuai..” Is the only word that slips from your lips. You feel your heart beat increase and you hope and pray he doesn’t hear it..

“Please…” is all he says in return. And you can’t help but wonder what he’s pleading.

“Please let me kiss you..”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, but you know the consequences of this endeavor if Bihan were to find out. “We cant..” You say in a slight whisper, trying to mask the desire in your voice.

“I know… but I’m finding it hard to resist. My heart yearns for you my love. I’ve missed you”

You let out a sigh with a mixture of frustration and lust. You know you want him. You’ve craved this moment for so long, you have the love of your life back. But you cant help but feel like this is a dream.

“I’m willing to live with the consequences sweetheart, let my brother find out. As long as I have you, my will to fight will always be great. Sweetheart.. I need you..”

You can't help but sigh once again, feeling his breath fan over your face. You are struggling to give in, and you find your hand placed on his leg as you give it an involuntary squeeze.

Kuai hisses at your action, pressing his forehead against yours; he closes his eyes in frustration. “You're making it very hard for me to hold back.. please.. please.. let me taste you”

His pleading whispers to you send a shiver down your spine. You are still feeling conflicted. It’s very clear what you want and deep down you dont know what’s stopping you from getting it. You rise from your bed in frustration immediately puling yourself out of this situation and start to pace. Kuai is caught off guard by your sudden movement, he gaze towards you as your standing is still a mixture of lust and frustration with now a hint of confusion. “Wait! Where are you going?” his voice now filled with concern as if he’s done something wrong.

“Fuck it” is all you can say before you turn around and pull him in. Your lips pressed against his, the kiss filled with hunger and need.

He pulls you in closer, is muscular arms wrapping tightly around your body, holding you possessively against him as your mouths mold together in such a passionate kiss. You cup his face, internally you wish for him to not pull away. Your steps make your way back to the foot of the bed. Your hands on Kuai’s face feel like a lifeline for him, anchoring him to this moment. The love you two have once shared evidently present in this moment, you two have missed this, you’ve yearned for it for so long and the moment is finally here. As your steps take you back to the bed, he pushes you gently against the footboard, pressing his body against yours, needing to feel every inch of you. The kiss deepens and his hands slowly begin to wander over your body.

Your back slowly falls onto the bed and your legs voluntarily wrap around his waist. Kuai Liang’s body begins to hover over you, body pressed against you, intertwined in a perfect and desperate embrace. His lips move from yours and make their way to your jawline, then down to your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses where he can feel your pulse throbbing wildly. He pulls away for a moment and you whimper at the loss of contact, he presses his forehead against yours and looks you deep into your eyes, his voice rough and ragged, being consumed by the intensity of this moment. 

“Fuck I’ve missed you sweet girl”

His words send a jolt through your body as you involuntarily grind upwards into him.. Your voice soft and whiny, “I’ve missed you most”

You pull at the hem of his Shirai Ryu uniform wishing for more contact than you two currently have. Knowing your desires, Kuai leans back, giving you space to lift the top of his uniform over his head and toss it aside, his bare chest now exposed to your gaze. In doing so, you reciprocate the action and take off the top of your clothing. You feel his eyes roam over your bare skin, taking in every inch of you, scanning over your collarbone, your chest, your stomach, he’s taking in everything.. like an animal eyeing his prey. He reaches out, his fingertips caressing your curves ever so slightly. His voice low, filled with tenderness and adoration… “You’re so beautiful… every part of you… may I?”

You feel your breath quicken as he touches you and it makes you yearn for him so much more. “Yes.. im yours..” You pull him in for another needy kiss. Your breathless words and the way you pulled him in ignites a primal hunger within him. His hands roam over your bare skin as he presses himself against you. It has been so long since you two have had a moment like this that he is at a loss for words.. “I- I need you..”

“You have me”

Hearing those words unleashed the last bit of restraint he had, claiming your mouth once more in a demanding kiss. His rough calloused hands grab a hold of your hips and presses you into the mattress. He leaves tender kisses over your bare skin, slowly making his way down, you feel your breath quicken once more until he reaches to the waist band of your pants. He looks up at you with desire and you give him a nod. With full permission, he undresses the lower half of your body and he can’t help but let out a low grown at the sight. He stares at your pussy in awe and see how its glistening in your arousal already.. he hasn’t even touched you yet..

“Gods..” He leans his head down on the mattress, trying to keep his composure but you feel yourself writhing from underneath him. “Kuai… please..” You reach towards his head as you wish to push him closer to your heat. 

“Patience sweet girl… needy are we?”

“I need you please.. I need your tongue..”

“Oh darling.. I’m going to take my time with you..”

Kuai presses a tantalizing lick against your folds as you let out a low moan. Your legs could help but close but Kuais hands pry you open once more and keep you pinned.. “no hiding now sweetheart.. just sit back and enjoy..”

Your finger run through his dark hair and you give a tug as he pressed another lick against you and makes his way down to your hole. The tug sends a chill down his spine as he moans at the pain of your pull, radiating in between your legs. The sounds you make are music to his ears and he wishes to pulll every ounce of sound out of you. He presses kisses to your inner thighs and nibbles at each side before diving right back into you. He slowly licks up to your clit and takes it in his mouth gently as twirls his tongue around you. Your back arches at the action and your grip on his hair tightens and Kuai groans once more. 

“Fuck..” Is all you can say. The pleasure is too great and you feel it building up. Your core begins to tighten at his continuous actions. He recognizes your bodily reactions all too well, he knows youre close, however he doesn’t wish for this moment to be over yet.

“Baby.. please” you plead. Your voice filled with desperation. “I’m gonna-“

He stops

The loss of the build up has you in shambles. You plead and look down as to why he stopped, and you see a slight smirk on his face, as his chin is glistening in your juices. he rises back up to your face, “Did you really think it was going to be that easy sweetheart? I told you, I’m taking my sweet time with you” he presses a kiss against your open lips tongue swirling around yours as your taste yourself on his tongue. He makes his way back down in between your legs and stares at you. “Be a good girl for me yeah?” Not knowing what he has planned, you nod regardless, biting your lip to suppress a moan.

He repeats his actions once more, lapping at your juices, his nose rubs against your clit in the right spot and it causes a high pitched moan to escape your lips. Kuai smiles at what he hears as he continues licking at your folds. He takes two fingers and inserts them inside of you. Surprised by the sudden insertion, you pull at Kuai’s hair in pleasure with one hand and you are grasping your bed sheets with another. “Fuck!” You feel his fingers pumping in and out of you as he continues abusing your clit. His pace quickens and he feels the same buildup in your body once more, you tightening around his fingers, almost consuming them involuntarily, the pleasure is too much for you to handle. “I’m gonna-“

“Do it sweetheart, let me taste you fully, you can let go”

You feel yourself reach your climax and you let goes completely, your body almost trembles and shakes as he makes you cum hard into his mouth. Taking in everything that you leave behind. He rises from in between your legs as he stares at your disheveled state and gently caresses your face. “You're not done yet love.. brace yourself” Kuai presses a tender kiss to your lips and your forehead. You smile at his action as you watch him undo his pants, letting his dick free, already dripping with precum. It really was a sight for you. Oh how you missed him…

He slowly aligned himself to your entrance, pushes in achingly slow earning moans escaping from both of your lips. “Fuck..” Kuai groans underneath his breath. You hiss as he stretches you in such a familiar way. He places one of his hands on your cheek as his arm keeps him afloat as he hovers over you. His movements are slow, wanting to drag this out as long as possible as he takes your lips in for another passionate kiss. “I love you..” He whispers between each slow thrust. you moan at his movements and you reciprocate his loving words, “I love you too Kuai..” 

His smallest movements cause your walls to tense around him. With each rock, his breathing deepens and his pants become more desperate but he holds out a little bit longer. You bring your hands to his back as you bring his upper half closer to you, you dig his nails in his back “faster please..”

His self composure slowly crumbling, his pace starts to pick up his eyes locked onto yours, he removes his hand from your face and presses it down on your lower stomach, knowing it feels good for you.

“Talk to me baby.. how does it feel..?” he knows the answer to that, he knows your body like the back of his hand already. He just wishes to hear your voice.

“Perfect..” Your words make his pace alot faster than before. Needy pants escape both of your lips, noises of arousal fill your bedroom. He starts pounding into you, the pace becoming unmatched. Kuai feels his own climax unravelling and his voice starts to become filled with need. “Im so close…”

As Kuai keeps his fast pace, he starts to increase the power behind each thrust literally fucking you senseless. No words escape your lips, just your jaw slacked open, the pleasure becoming too much to handle. It’s becoming too much to handle for him too, Kuai begins to whimper in his own pleasure as you both finally reach your climax. Kuai cums hard into you as you cum as well, your juices all over his dick as his seed spews in your insides. The pressure in both of your nerves finally releases. He pulls out of you and falls next to you. You both lay there for a while, completely fucked out of your minds. As youre catching your breaths, you look down suddenly and see Kuai’s cum leaking out of you and onto your bedsheets. You look back up and stare at him next to you, and you laugh in contentment as you wrap your arms around him. Kuai slightly moans at your sudden touch before he turns to face you and wrap his arms around you. Pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You both hum in relief and contentment as you both fall asleep, completely enveloped in each other’s presence, as if the rest of the world has faded away. You prayed for his return every night, despite the nagging doubt of whether you truly deserved his affection. You missed him so deeply, longing for the days when you were together, wishing for nothing more than to have him back in your life. And now he’s here, in your room and completely engulfed by his presence. And you wish for nothing more.

The morning hits, sunlight filtering through your window, gently stirring Kuai awake from his sleep. He wakes up slowly, arms still wrapped around you. He takes in the sight of you sleeping and a wave of contentment washes over him. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, a soft smile paying at the corners of his mouth. He notices the peaceful expression on your face as you begin to stir in your sleep. For the first time since the incident, you have slept with no nightmares; he notices a sense of serenity as you sleep and it fills him with so much relief. He continues to watch you before gently rubbing his fingers against your arm in a soothing affectionate gesture.

You sleepily moan at his touch and push yourself further into his embrace. Your sounds make Kuai’s heart skip a beat as he continues to rub your arm. As you stir awake, your back facing his chest, you let out a sleepy satisfied hum as he presses his lips towards the back of your neck and nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing n your scent and savoring the feeling of your body pressed against his. You feel his fingers tracing soothing patterns against your skin; you sleepily take his hand and place it to your lips as you press kisses from his palm to his fingertips. You actions make his heart swell with love, admiring the affectionate gesture. He lets out a soft sigh, hand gently cupping your face and whispering in your ear..

“Gods you're incredible”

You let out a sleepy giggle at his words, wishing you could stay in this moment forever. It feels like a dream come true, a piece of fate finally falling into place. The love you both share has never faded, and it’s as if none of the betrayal, none of the pain ever happened. In this moment, there is only the two of you—untouched by the past, as if you’d never chosen Bi-Han’s side, as if the love in your hearts had never left.

[witchywithwhiskey]

slasher summer masterlist

summerween is over, and so is my slasher summer writing challenge. as promised, here's the masterlist of all entries in the challenge (if yours is missing, please DM me!)

thank you to everyone who participated, as well as all readers who liked, reblogged and commented on the fics!! i loved getting to read everyone's stories and see what y'all did with the prompts. you're all so creative and lovely—thank you again!!!

for readers, please heed the warnings on each individual post below, your media consumption is your responsibility. and please make sure to show your support of the writers by reblogging their work!!!

When He First Got Me by @buckets-and-trees

pairing: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader summary: Prequel in the Exiled Nomad Series. July 3, 2017. Steve sees you at a city festival for the Fourth of July, but he's not content with only seeing…

Dirty Little Secret by @buckys-wintersoldier

pairing: Professor!Ari Levinson x Student!Female!Reader summary: You share a dirty little secret with your professor.

In the Woods by @thezombieprostitute

pairing: James Mace x Female!Reader x Chris Beck summary: Using the prompts: Summer Camp; Sex in the Woods; You know how girls love to scream

Not A Common Storm by @nekoannie-chan

pairing: Steve Rogers x Agent of HYDRA!Reader summary: You and Steve are trapped in a storm, what would happen?

Once Upon A Friendship by @steviebbboi

pairing: Childhood Bestie!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader summary: Growing up together, you and Steve were inseparable. Where did it all go wrong?

Rosa by @perdidosbucky-yyo

pairing: Best Friend!Steve Rogers x Plus Size! Female!Reader summary: Trapped in a prison of your husband and your mother’s expectations, your only comfort is the ghost in your garden, haunted by the memory of your best friend. You thought you would never see him again but when he unexpectedly returns home from the war after 12 years, you’re not prepared for what’s to come.

A Night of Frights & Delights by @elixirfromthestars

pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader summary: It’s Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can’t stand is also there?

Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays by @buckets-and-trees

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Curvy!Female Reader summary: A first date with your neighbor Bucky Barnes.

Fool Me Once… by @dc418writes

pairing: Ari Levinson x BlackReader, Pete Brenner x BlackReader summary: Who knew grudges could be so deadly?

Slasher by @witchywithwhiskey

pairing: DARK Horror Movie Villain!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader summary: Somehow, you end up in your favorite old horror movie, and you decide to take the opportunity to fulfill one of your fantasies—you're gonna fuck the villain, Bucky Barnes.

[romantichopelessly]

invitation to speak more about the secret good td3 in your head, if you so desire!

Ok so I sat on this ask for DAYS because I wanted to have some cohesive, great answer, but the thing about The Dreamer Trilogy that haunts me is that I can never come up with good concrete thoughts about how to fix the issues I have with it, which is why I reference the “secret good td3 in my head” because it can never fully leave my head in any real way. That being said here’s a list of some elements I would change to make my secret good td3, in no particular order.

The visionaries don’t exist. Liliana, Persifal, etc. are just psychics that keep getting visions of the end, and die for reasons other than their power. Explaining what Visionaries are and subsequently over explaining the magic system of td3 is part of what made the trilogy so confusing and ruined a lot of the magic that the TRC universe already had for me. We don’t need concrete explanations, and psychics can still fill this role. The changing age and exploding added nothing?? to the narrative?? that I can think of?? We can even keep the age gap for Carliana if we want to, just make Liliana an older psychic like Maura/Persephone/Calla. It will even add to the excellent Carmen-Mr. Gray parallels.

Lean more into the themes of the age group. TRC is a coming of age story. It’s about being 17/18. It’s about learning your inner self and getting others to see the true you. TD3 should be more about being 19/20/21. To me, TD3 at its peak is like Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 6. Which is uniquely about the horror of being in your early 20s, losing support systems, having to learn to be a full self-reliant person, grappling with what your parents did to you, and the crushing loneliness of not being around Your People anymore. TD3 has all of these themes, but I really think they need to be fleshed out more, and given proper conclusion that isn’t just “yippee everything is fine now!”

Greywaren is longer. I think almost everyone agrees that Greywaren, as a book was just too short to wrap up all the plot lines set up, and does almost none of them justice. That book needed a whole rewrite. In theory, I’m completely fine with how it opens—Ronan being in a dream coma was foreshadowed from CDTH, and is an idea that I’d actually thought of as interesting before even reading the book. Other elements of this book like Declan’s rampage, Matthew going rogue, etc are great directions for the characters, I’d just want to rework them. I could make solo posts about any of these.

The Pynch breakup either doesn’t happen, or is set up further in advance and lasts longer. Personally, I lean towards the latter. Adam and Ronan’s conflict is set up from the very beginning of CDTH, or even from Opal (Adam warring between wanting to stay with Ronan and needing to follow through with his lifelong plans, and being frustrated that Ronan never asks for anything from Adam (specifically, to stay) ((side note: perhaps Adam’s insecurity here about Ronan respecting his boundaries so thoroughly stems from both having a family that never would respect his wishes, and Gansey (Adam’s model of love, Adam’s model of everything) having to learn not to ask things like that of Adam. What does it mean that Ronan never even tries?)) AND Ronan dealing with the crushing loneliness of being left and dealing with the consequences of having a long distance bf who is more successful than him). So they needed to have an argument about this. It’s also just in character that these two would not be perfect communicators. So. My idea: In CDTH we get no Adam POVs, just Ronan’s side of the story. We see, rather than Ronan just getting upset over one missed text, that Adam begins to pull away after the murder crab incident. We the audience don’t know why, other than Ronan’s unreliable narration and insecurity. So when Adam doesn’t respond to that one text at a vital fraught time, Ronan does what he does best, shuts down, pulls away and self destructs. Then MI rolls around and we start getting Adam POVs. We learn that after the murder crabs, Adam was throwing himself into trying to fix the nightwash situation for Ronan (Adam is not in contact with Declan here, unfortunately). After visiting for Ronan’s birthday and seeing the Lace, Adam starts to have dreams/premonitions about the end of the world (no visionaries in this universe, just psychics who are/were close to dreamers getting the visions!!). So he obviously sets out to fix this alone too. He calls his best approximations to contacts in this underground world that aren’t Declan. Henry and Mr. Gray. (+ maybe also Maura & Calla) ((Also don’t worry Henry doesn’t leave the Sarchengsey trip, just advises Adam on where to start)). Now that Adam has lost contact with Ronan (he was busy and missed the message and Ronan went off the grid like in canon), he goes full throttle into trying to solve everything while managing being his perfect Harvard persona (this gets him close to a breakdown, very reminiscent to Dream Thieves). Perhaps we get to see Adam and Declan working together to acquire sweet metals and understand the underworld of magic together. He and Ronan fight the one time they get to talk over the phone, Adam because he is truly scared Ronan will be the one to end the world, Ronan because he feels like this is another person perceiving him as a failure and wanting to control/baby him (+ he hates Adam hanging with Mr Gray and Declan of all people). By the time Greywaren starts, Adam is wrung out and hurting and Ronan is dead to the world, so yeah. He doesn’t think he can spend emotional energy playing safeguard to his boyfriend’s coma corpse. And then by the end of the book they have an actual argument/discussion no “they didn’t need words” cop out.

The number of Dreamers/Dreams has to be reduced. It’s cool to say that dreams were always integrated into this world, but it creates so many plot holes it isn’t even funny. There is no way Niall could have passed off the Greywaren being a box that brings dreams to life if Dreamers were such a common occurrence. No secret can be kept that well, someone in the black market would have known, and thus Greenmantle/Mr. Gray/Laumonier/ect WOULD HAVE KNOWN !!!

Declan does not have all his character erased by suddenly loving his mommy and daddy. Seriously what the fuck was that. Declan suddenly deciding to forgive his father because actually Declan was secretly the favorite child first is INSANE. Especially after seeing that that changed because Niall and Mor WANTED TO KILL HIS BROTHER!!! The two tenants of Declan Lynch in TRC were protecting his remaining family and fucking hating that Ronan idolized Niall just because Niall loved him best. So why make Declan turn around and do the same??? Suddenly Niall wasn’t so bad because actually he let Declan be shoved into a car trunk during a shootout out of love. I hate this plot line. Family doesn’t have to be forgiven. Understood, that’s one thing. Forgiven?? Not always. Sick of it. The real takeaway from seeing those memories should have been closure to Declan’s arc of learning that dreams should be viewed as people completely.

I definitely have other points but I cannot think of them right now. And I want to post this so I will. But TD3, as you can see, makes me an insane person.

[wide-nose-and-wonderful]

SNOWFALL SEASON 4 Franklin.

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Soft Black Fem Reader!

Warnings/Type: Established Relationship. Hurt/Comfort, Soft Smut. Use of the n-word. ONE SHOT!

Summary: With life spinning out of control and the war ragging in the neighborhood, you come to find that you are alone more and more under the watchful eye of Peaches. Being without Franklin has started to get to you. Can he convince you that brighter days are ahead?

Word count: 8,083k / Please consider leaving a comment to show some love and support. Like this story? To read other works please check out the Masterlist.

“I was just gon' let sleeping dogs lie, but then you had to go behind my back. Talk about my bidness, and create a whole shit storm of problems for me and mine and I can't have that. Can't lay in bed at night knowin’ that at any minute my future can't get blown up by my past. So, if there's somethin’ you wanna say to me, somethin’ you wanna get off your lil chest then please say it now because after this I promise, I fuckin’ promise you there are no more chances!”

“Alright. There's one thing. Tell me the truth you'll never hear from me again. Admit that you killed my daddy. Be man enough to tell me that I'm not crazy. Give me that at least.” 

“Bye Mel. Take care of yourself.” 

…

When Franklin Saint walked into Dallas Fort Worth international airport at 5:45PM, on Sunday March 22nd, in the year of 85, he wasn’t sure at what point his childhood left him. When he committed his first murder or when he lost his shoes and encountered RayRay and his boys in jail. 

In the end, it disappeared. 

The old Franklin was somewhere blowing in the wind and gone like a distant memory long ago left behind. At times when the world managed to get quiet enough, he thought about Kevin, about the time he’d taken them to the beach. How amazing it was. So amazing. So new for Leon and Kev. Did he miss that version of himself? Or was he okay with the new one? Those questions remained unanswered in his subconscious yet to be challenged, but the point was growth wasn’t it? There was no way he would have remained the same through all of this. All the bullshit. While he may have looked unchanged, the mind matured with strategy. He’d married the game. Formed an unbreakable wow. Such logic justified the journey. Justified everything that led to him straying the course just to find Melody in Odessa to make a point. He would not tolerate being fucked with, even by the girl he once loved.

He never wanted to kill Andre Wright, and made no tangible confession. Only a slight nod of confirmation for the girl next door. 

He owed her more then that he knew, but fuck it. Life goes on. The past had to stay the past, so he never let a word be heard from his lips. She couldn’t handle the truth even if she craved to have it.

Seeing her again amplified the pain of being shot. He did not expect it. But he would carry the scars of her murder attempt for the rest of his life. A cold hard memory, forever edged in his flesh. Keloided in three different places on his back, the reality haunted Franklin most nights, and he would wake up in cold sweats with the sound of a gunshot ringing in his ears right after seeing the light leave Andre’s eyes and transport him to whatever came next, that undoubtedly awaited them all. 

He remembered the blank look set to Mel’s glazed hues. Maybe she'd been cracked out on the day of the funeral, but her ominous gaze damn near swallowed him up. He’d left this woman heartbroken without a father, so he understood her hatred. He'd eliminated her protector. Never the intention, but being a police officer, Aundre became a bigger problem than Franklin had been willing to accept. What happened to Jerome, couldn't happen again. Still, walking away from Mel that day had to be one of his saddest goodbyes. Just another one to add to the collection of regrets and hard decisions lost in his path to freedom. 

The game owed no loyalty to the past. 

It changed and transformed faster than the young L.A native could blink an eye. He moved with it, leaving things he once knew behind for better or worse. 

Franklin wasn’t a fool. As soft as the nature of a woman could be, there was no way he could have two. Even in his mind. So, he did what needed doing.  

Franklin learned alot about sacrifices and brutality. A great pain hid behind the action of the will it took to put a gun to Aundre’s head and pull the trigger. The same will it took to stop Kevin from kicking off a race war. Or the tears he couldn't stop when he watched his mother board the plane to an uncertain future without him in it. Pain Franklin kept hollowed. The same pain led him to hit Alton with the back of his gun the night he'd confronted him about the reporter he’d been talking to, which made business with Teddy less than pleasant. Franklin would be lying if he didn’t admit he’d looked up to Andre in some aspects. 

His father was absent for a significant part of his life, either by addiction or choice. To make up for his absence, Franklin collected father figures. Men he could count on for some type of pathway to adulthood. He molded and modeled himself after these examples, taking bits and pieces from different sources in the neighborhood. The old gray head who owned the liquor store, or Mr. Dunkin, who’d been well known for fixing cars at half price. Or Aundre Wright, who although Franklin thought a sellout, had only wanted the best for his little girl.  

Fucking Alton. 

Every now and then, the former Black Panther’s words would roll back in Franklin’s memory like a bursting tumor. 

You are killing us all. Don’t you see that? 

He didn’t like it, but success always came at someone else’s expense. That was the entire foundation of the American Dream. What America was built on. A lie sold to those who never had a chance at it anyway. Someone had to lose in order to win. In this case Aundre and Melody Wright, Fat Back, Courville, Khadijah, and the list went on. The unlucky contenders, and for that he was sorry.

Franklin shut his eyes to drown out the noise. Just business. He couldn’t let the shit get to him. To think that it became personal. He never planned to destroy his own people. His moves all had the same objective. Freedom. A way out of poverty. A better life for his mother, a brighter future for himself. He sure as hell wouldn't get that kind of opportunity at college, and he damn sure wouldn't be anything sitting behind a desk all day kissing the white man's ass like some good house nigga. To help his people once he got his own shit right, that was the goal. It would all just take time, but he'd turn it around. Most never even thought about that when they came up on an opportunity for a little bit of money. He’d convinced himself he’d be different from the majority. He’d be the one to do what others before him hadn't. He never meant to hurt anybody, even if he wanted so desperately to win. 

Family. 

Manboy spoke on family one time. But, the motherfucker said a lot, all the time. He’d talked about how he’d lost respect because right and wrong hailed more weight when Franklin refused to give up his people for the death of Skullys little girl. Manboy on the other hand had been ready to take his own out if it meant standing on principle. 

Leon without a doubt was Franklin’s family, his best friend, and the reality of that truth was the reason he’d made the conscious choice to make Manboy an enemy. Despite that, Franklin would be lying if he thought the niggas words didn’t hold at least some weight. 

You think you gon make it outta this? These niggas, they gon’ turn on you. 

He looked Manboy right in the eye when he pulled the trigger, ending his life. The very first time he felt absolutely nothing. 

The game showed him a lot of things.

Franklin convinced himself that when it came to Manboy, it all boiled down to survival. He had broken his own word to save Leon and to protect the source of his power, the plug. But Lee was his family, and losing Kevin had been enough. Him and Lee, they'd made this journey together ever since their encounter with korvell. So he rendered him protection. 

Still, he wondered who’d be the next one to press the knife into his back. He would never consider Jerome, Louie. 

Feeling rather incomplete without the cane he’d left behind at the church for Melody’s last and final reminder of him, Franklin shifted his stance while he waited in line as his mind settled. Amidst all the chaos there seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel.  

Had he found the one this time? A woman who could help him grow his empire? 

Franklin took out the photograph. He carried it in his pocket. Cissy had taken it in the living room one afternoon. A different version of the moment existed, one that did not belong to him. His eyes drank in everything. From the almond hues, to the beautiful melanated complexion that complimented him so well. Skin that looked painted on. A smile that required nothing in return which greeted him whenever he'd come in from battle. From taking on the world. The best part, it didn’t just exist within a picture. He had something tangible. The living breathing experience of authentic partnership. Real. 

Could a man exist without his appetite? Whether for wealth or purpose-made. A woman. Such a divine combination reminded him of Fire and Smoke. They had a catastrophic attraction. But when it was right. It was right. A compliment to his genetic makeup. Balance. Hard, soft. Masculine, feminine, woman, man. It all aligned. He’d found his peace somehow through all the chaos. Franklin smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to return to it. To peace. 

The airport bustled with travelers. Franklin kept his eyes on the large board of flight plans while searching his pockets until he’d made it all the way to the front of the line and placed his ticket on the counter top. He watched the woman take it and begin to type something into her computer. 

“Oh. I’m so sorry. This flight got canceled.” She placed the ticket on the surface of the counter and slid it forward toward him.  

Franklin took it up skeptically. He needed to be back in L.A. The trip to Odessa was supposed to be quick and easy. “What. You sure?” 

“Mmm hmmm.” She peered down at the register. “Yeah, next time I have is 7 in the morning tomorrow, sir. Looks like you’re making yourself comfortable in Odessa for one more night.” 

She pulled a facial expression. One that articulated this half ass sorry in so few words. Franklin might have found it comical, if the new information hadn't frustrated him. 

He needed to be back.

The young drug lord stood silent. Too long. The person behind him cleared their throat, pulling Franklin back to the reality of the situation. He licked his lips and took the ticket, shoving it in his pocket in a messy fold. He gave the woman a quick grin, forced by the tension in his jaw. 

Franklin moved from the line and walked away as he muttered a low ‘fuck’ through gritted teeth.

….

To most people the space would read as a regular school auditorium. Nothing special. But for you it felt like a huge stage at a big opera house with a million eyes staring at you. And this, almost being what one would call a final performance.

Everyone dressed in fancy clothes and talked in hushed voices. You were nervous, but excited. You had never played for such a grand audience before, or any audience for that matter. A lot of what you'd created never saw the light of day. It stayed very much hidden, away from public scrutiny. Tonight you were taking a chance. That bold opportunity to finally be heard. Only, the words would fall upon deaf ears, to the person who they'd been meant for.

Two distinct times, you could remember two distinct times when the night sat still and Franklin had disturbed the quiet with his jolt awake, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The second time was the worst. It took almost an hour to convince him he wasn’t where he thought. In prison, surrounded. He could never describe to you the haunting images from his nightmare, but you knew that the war in which he found himself had taken its toll. Caught up to him. He suffered this suffocating fear and guilt with memories that threatened to consume him, always. You weren’t sure he would welcome your arms on that one occasion that changed everything, but his guard had lifted with time and trust. Then without hesitation when you saw such a small opportunity, you wrapped arms around him and pulled him close, holding him tight as he trembled. If he ever cried he wouldn’t let you see it. But you knew he wanted to, and often. As some form of release, you became the substitute. He poured his pain into you in the form of intimacy and sex. So from that point forward, all you ever wanted to be for Franklin was Comfort, Safety, and Peace.  

But that meant an even exchange. 

Bottom line. He should be among those in the auditorium. That was all you could think as you stood behind the curtain listening to the tune the current pianist played. You hadn't asked for much. Nor required a great deal. So then, you had to strike the feeling of being let down, although disappointment was not something foreign to you. Truly, you'd known it most your life, but somehow you'd convinced yourself that this time would be different. That this man you’d chosen to invest your time into was different. This man who’s word you chose to cling to. 

You were dressed in the beautiful rose pink gown that you had carefully chosen for the night. You’d been waiting for this evening for weeks and finally the soft chiffon fabric hugged your curves and made you feel glamorous. A special occasion, you spent hours perfecting your hair and makeup for the elegant evening ahead. You even put on silver high heels, which had been unlike you. And your hair was braided in four large french braids that inner connected into a large roped bun. 

“Well maybe he will make it. Maybe if we just wait a little while longer. I can try and speak to the director, just so he has time to get here.”

Remembering the conversation, you hated how annoying your voice sounded with so much hope and optimism. Peaches, his right hand and the one whom he had to stay with you, of course brought you back down to reality. 

“I'm sorry. But he ain't gonna make it.” 

Why did you fight with yourself even when the truth was right in front of you? You shouldn't have let him go to Odessa. Wait. Let him? You had to check yourself on that one. Franklin was a grown ass man. He would have gone with or without an okay from you, and you knew that. You figured that the trade off was the promise he'd made to show up. 

‘Won't take long. Fly there, fly back. Round trip. Simple. Just, somethin’ I gotta do. All this is almost over. Aight babe?��� 

Business. You accepted that sometimes your wants and needs had to be put on the back burner. Fine. Sacrifice happened in any relationship for any couple. That was to be expected. But did give and take happen also? That was where you saw the unbalance when it came to you and Franklin. You gave and gave and gave with little to show for in return. The relationship you’d had with your father growing up was something of a similar occurrence. You’d wait by the window holding on to empty promises of his return to spend time. A return that never came. He thought that time could be made up with gifts, those cold lifeless objects that held no meaning except disappointment. He’d traded you for an appetite he’d had for the women he’d left your mother for, and you of course were no exception to this selfishness. In the end, he left you both. 

Only for this man. This man that had come into your life, Franklin Saint, you did not wait by the window. Instead you tried to search for his face in a sea of onlookers as the allpause mellowed out and the announcer called for you to make your way onto the stage, sparking a whole new wave of anticipation from the crowd. Peaches could be wrong. Franklin could have made it, and to your surprise have found his seat in the vast expanse of strangers to watch you perform a piece he’d encouraged you to finish. A piece of music he’d said had been the moment he fell in love with you when you first played it on a Wednesday. 

A song written for him. 

“There are no words,” you warned as you held the sheet of music to your chest like a well kept secret. 

“That's fine.” 

You were sure to make note of his eyes and the tantalizing grin he held when he said the next part. 

“Some things don't need um.” 

You couldn’t help it, you took his words to heart. So with a deep breath you walked on the stage. 

Maybe not a million, but there were a lot of people already there. A good forty, although your eyes could have betrayed you in the count. You faced forward focusing only on the path. If you looked too hard, the moment would swallow you up and devour you whole. 

When you made your way to the piano and sat down, there came a pounding in your chest. Nervously you adjusted the bench and placed fingers on the keys. You closed your eyes trying to fight back the want, that burning need to look out in the crowd one last time before you began to play.

At first your hands were trembling, but soon the music began to flow from your fingertips.Starting off slow as you followed the sheet music, you allowed the notes to linger in the air. 

People had begun to pay attention. 

You hoped the music would take them on a journey. A journey of your and Franklin’s love story. From the light and airy notes to the deep and soulful melodies, it spoke of everything. The nightmares, and demons that chased him. The compromise and the love it took to hold on. How much you loved him. And a question in certain notes; did he love you just as much? It couldn't be described in words. But maybe if the tune traveled high enough, the wind would carry the song all the way to Odessa, and remind him to remember you were still back in L.A, waiting. 

Your fingers flew over the keys, as if they had a mind of their own. This strange wave of emotion coursed through your body as the notes filled the room.

The crowd, entranced and engaged made you feel more comfortable, so you began to pick up the pace. They must have been mesmerized. The only noise in the room had been your song speaking from the inner workings of a man made creation. As the music grew, your fingers moved faster and faster, as if dancing with the notes.This dedication to Franklin Saint.

When you finally finished, the room erupted into applause. You had played on the piano, yours and his story, and had done it, magnificently. This small surge of pride trickled in as you stood up and bowed. You realized only when you took the second bow that tears were streaming down your cheeks in hot trails of accomplishment and disappointment. 

…

The sun had just started to peek over the horizon, casting a warm orange glow while you drove down the highway with the smell of Peaches joint filling the space in the Lincoln continental. 

It was your favorite time, sunrise, when the city was just starting to wake up.

The palm trees swayed in the gentle breeze, the skyscrapers glinted in the sun, and the Hollywood sign loomed in the distance. The city had its fair share of chaos and traffic, but there was something magical about it so early in the morning. It was as if L.A was a blank canvas, waiting for its inhabitants to create something beautiful as the day progressed.

You turned up the radio, humming along to the tune of your favorite song as you took in the sights around you with eyes still delicate and sore from all the crying you had done hours after returning from your performance. Although you tried to stifle your cries into the sems of pillow cases, you knew Peaches had heard you. So that morning when he told you Franklin had paged him that he was back in town, he never asked about the redness of your eyes. The two of you boarded the car in silence and Peaches, like always, only followed instructions. 

It was a winding road that brought you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation as Peaches neared the destination. The airport where Franklin would be waiting. 

The possibilities for the day ahead seemed endless when you pulled up to the sliding doors to find him standing outside of them. 

Peaches got out first, and your gaze drank Franklin down to his shoes. There was something missing. Hesitantly you took hold of the handle on the door and opened it, getting out before shutting it behind you and approaching. 

He’d met you half way and pulled you into a hug. L.A had been warm, but Franklin held a different type of warmth and you basked in it before you sniffed back tears. “Are you okay,” you murmured into his chest. 

Franklin pressed his hands on your back. It was no longer a gentle hug, but one in which he tried to express himself. Say in little words that he'd been glad to see you. His hands spoke as if it had been longer than a day. Like this hug made up for all the times he'd left you. “Yeah,” came out simple, but there was something attached to it. Closure. “How was the-”

You sat up and broke away from his hold. “Fine. It went fine. No big deal really. Didn't mean anything.”

Franklin was staring at you with this look. Hard to describe. Nonetheless filled with emotion in the eyes at least. His face in general remained stoic. “I'm sorry.”

To counter that you smiled through hues under a thin glaze of tears. “Ready…” you said and turned to face the Lincoln Continental. You didn't wait for his response. Only walked. A glance passed between you and Peaches. This time when you got in, you sat in the back. A minute later, Franklin followed. 

It wasn’t the silence that brought on your breaking point, but the fact that one of the songs that made its way from the speakers had a very specific piano break in it. 

“Peaches, can you pull over please. I’d like to get out.” 

Peaches hazel eyes reflected in the overhead mirror before he threw a glance and Franklin who had stared at you. 

“Why?” he said.

The tears couldn’t be stopped. They overflowed and spilled. 

“Because I want to take a quick walk on the beach. When will you ever see it be more beautiful than right now?”

The beach, symbolic for both of you. Just in different ways. 

Franklin and Peaches passed glances between one another with Franklin gently nodding his head. 

The drive had reached the outskirts of the city and the highway opened up to a stunning view of the ocean. The sun was now fully risen, and its rays danced on the water, creating a breathtaking scene. The car pulled over to the side of the road. 

As soon as it came to a complete stop, you got out.

You were able to walk a few paces in the sand before you’d chosen a spot to plop down on and face the sparkling waters ahead. You let yourself cry, and the crying quickly turned into sobbing as you pulled your sleeves to wipe your eyes clear. 

Footsteps began to fill in behind you. Franklin stopped just shy three feet from where you sat. “I meant to be there.” His words flooded in from behind, and you shut your eyes tightly.

“Baby please.” He took the three steps to get to you and took a seat on the sand beside you. 

As your breath caught in your throat you tried to scramble out words that would make sense. “I needed. I just. I wanted you to...” 

You sniffed and found by the next second Franklin had pulled you close and drew his arm around you to bring you into him. 

“I know babe,” He whispered at the base of your ear. “I know…” 

By the time you’d calmed down your eyes were even more swollen and you’d soaked Franklin’s shirt with tears. As his hand moved over the skin of your forearm he watched the people walking by before he focused solely on the ocean view. “Imma make this right. Make it up to you…”    

When you were guided back to the car by Franklin's direction you clung to those words. Words you wanted so desperately to believe in. You would never obtain the same moment, in that same place and time, but you were willing to make new memories, give him the opportunity. 

As Peaches headed back to your apartment, Franklin’s hand stayed locked to yours the entire way. He hadn’t left your side since departing from the beach, and every now and then he would look in your direction and pull your hand up to leave a soft kiss on the exposed skin before directing his attention to the window. When he did this you smiled briefly before your gaze would fall again. Sometimes to the hand he kissed, and other times to the scenery going by in the opposite window. 

Pulling into the available space on the block, Peaches parked the Lincoln and shut it down. 

“You can take off for the rest of the day. I need to handle some things.” Franklin’s eyes found you. 

You held his gaze briefly before you looked toward the front seat. “Bye Peaches. Thank you.” You opened the door and got out. 

Franklin not far behind stopped before he’d made it halfway. The familiar sound of his beeper rocked your eardrums.  

He looked down at the belt where it sat and released a sigh. “Shit.” 

You closed your eyes. Standing with your back to him. You turned and watched Franklin ascend the back seat, close one door and open another. He found your eyes, and let go of the car door to walk over to you. As you watched him, that's when you realized the thing that had been missing. His cane. You were standing on the sidewalk one foot in the direction of your apartment and the other toward him.This destination, unknown. 

“Uh. Look babe I gotta make this call. It’s-” 

You cut him off. “Business. I know.” The smile that you produced this time had been one of sadness unable to mask. You couldn’t tell him to stay. He wouldn’t. So you wouldn’t put on a scene. After all, you wanted to be his peace. 

Suddenly those words of hope had faded for you. The only thing you could utter without totally blowing away like a passing whisper on the wind was, “Be careful.” 

You brushed the side of his face with your fingers, turned and started walking, unwilling to look back and destroy yourself with longing and the depravity that he would not follow. When you got to the door, you unlocked it and went inside leaving the rest of the world and Franklin to his priorities.   

…

Worry would eat away at you everytime he left. You wondered why you couldn’t be more like Louie. It seemed she never left Jerome’s side, always there, always present, taking an active role in business. Franklin wouldn’t hear a word of it. You asked him once, just out of curiosity, and he had shut you down with this stern regard. 

“Naw. I’m not gettin’ you involved in this shit.” 

You protested, eager to try your luck, offering within the words you’d spoken that you would be careful. Play the game.  

“But why not? I’m pretty smart. I think. Besides I would be with you and-” 

“No.” 

So then you would never be like Louie, with time or tact. You hadn’t chosen your fate but settled into it in your little apartment finding things to clean or read, or do. A prisoner of uncertainty. But you found you often missed his presence in finding these things, his laughter filling the rooms and his warm embrace that always made you feel safe and protected. 

Franklin wore two different faces. One for the world and the other that he kept especially for you. Out there he might be cold, detached and focused, but when he stepped across the threshold he was hearty, affectionate and free. 

That was always the hardest part, waiting.

Your little apartment never felt so lonely, until you walked in it that morning by yourself. You sat on a plush red velvet couch in front of a vintage record player. In the corner of the living room, a wooden bookshelf stood tall, filled with old vinyl records. Your love for music was evident in every corner of the apartment. A way to make up for the empty space where you were hoping a piano could one day sit. You didn’t need anything fancy, just something that would keep a tune, convey it well.

Your family had never understood your style, especially when it came to your apartment. The furniture was a mix of retro and modern. These two opposites coming together. You always held the position that a clash was needed to create something extraordinary. Whether that was true or not you wouldn’t admit that you had bad taste. It screamed music, music, music! The walls were adorned with vibrant posters of famous musicians and bands, from Billy Ocean to Cameo.

Looking around, you thought of ways to curb your loneliness. You started with the obvious. Cleaning.

Within the hours it took for the house to be spotless with everything in its proper place, you’d scrubbed, dusted, and organized all with an eager anticipation that better days lay ahead. 

You’d lost friends being with Franklin Sanit. You could remember how one statement used to stay on your mind. 

“Leave him, get a fuckin’ back bone. You really want this to be your life, day after day?” 

You didn’t want it to be, foolish or not, you were willing to suffer, for love. 

Franklin missed dinner. Two tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil, one pound of Italian sausage, chopped onions, salt, black pepper, and the noodles and sauce it took to complete the spaghetti dish, not to mention the freshly fried catfish you’d added as a side. 

You made enough to feed at least four. Some for left overs and whoever Franklin decided to bring. Sometimes it would be Leon, and other times Jerome. And if it were Jerome he would always take a plate for Louie. Even Cissy stopped by once. Usually though, Peaches always got a plate. But eatting alone made you tired and the bubble bath you ran after, steam rising to the atmosphere of silence took the last of your resolve. 

As the night fell and the city lights came to life, you entered your bedroom wrapped in a purple towel.The walls were painted in a soft pink hue, with delicate lace curtains on the windows. A vanity table sat in front of a large mirror, with antique perfume bottles and jewelry boxes.The bed was covered in a floral quilt, giving the room a touch of femininity.You remembered when you’d given Franklin the grand tour. He had placed his hands behind his back and chuckled before turning to give you a look. “Damn. Think you got enough pink in here babe?” His eyes traveled and kept that little smile that complimented him. More of a smirk, and you playfully pushed his shoulder for making fun of your bedroom decor. 

That was before the war outside got bad. You remembered him being around more in the beginning. Then little by little, he wasn’t.

You’d found a place on your bed, right in the view of that dress you wore the night before. It layed over a chair with silver shoes close by. 

Falling back on the mattress you let the towel’s hold break its covering. The temperature of the room allowed a chill to cross your naked skin, but with a lazy arm you’d pulled the comforter and shaded yourself in the darkness of its covering. You laid there listening to the silence until eventually you closed your eyes to the temptation of sleep. 

…

Your senses spiked. A faint sound of running water filled your hearing. You could talk in the morning. Say everything you needed to say. All those words left unsaid, written in a song. Instead of surrendering to waking up completely, you stretched your limbs within the softness of the blanket. You had meant to get up and find yourself something to sleep in after laying down that night, but your energy had been displaced from the oils in the bath, the thoughts of whether or not he would make it back in one piece, if this was in fact going to be your life, day after day, and hurt. Hurt because you had been let down. Once again you surrendered to a slumber that was calling you back to it. 

Your dreams could be so vivid. Almost like they were real. Time became a concept unknown to you, and even if you wanted to search for the blinking numbers that would expose an actual answer on whether it was day or night, you didn’t open your eyes to force any discovery. There was no light to guide your way anymore. Someone had turned it off. The yellow glow was void in your tiny bedroom. Instead, all you focused on was the sensations you felt. A Lot of times when Franklin had been off fighting in this war, you slid your hands between your legs and pretended he was there with you, touching you. But these sudden sensations became all too real! 

The distinct difference between thought and matter.

When the protective cloud you’d situated yourself in had slowly pulled from your body, only to be replaced with warm living flesh which covered you, you knew you were not in any dream. 

He must have climbed in the bed already de-clothed straight from the shower. Normally you would be pulling at fabric and trying to free him from it, but not this time, this time those extra implications were absent. They'd been replaced by actions, and the evidence of his oncoming pleasure. Already hot and hard against your thigh, your inner walls desperately wanted something to latch onto.

Franklin’s lips were gentle. They showed up in different places. First your arm, then your shoulder, your neck, your collar bone, then to your cheek before a soft kiss pressed down over your lips. You opened your eyes and your vision cleared to find Franklin staring down at you before he lifted his head so that your noses touched. There was so much you wanted to say. The thoughts you had when he was gone were completely different from the ones you had when he was right there staring at you face to face. 

“Franklin. I -”  

“Kiss me,” he whispered.

Your blood pulsed at the command. Aching now, you pressed your lips over his, gentle but firm, and he proceeded to explore your mouth with tongue once you allowed entry before pulling from your lips all together to proceed in exploration. 

His body slid down in an erotic trail over yours and you closed your eyes to acknowledge a breath that hitched in your throat as he moved. It started when he traced the path of your stomach, leaving the light sensation that sent this pleasurable chill racing through your core and up your back. 

You suppressed a shuttering moan when his warm tongue found a different place on your skin and your nipples hardened under his touch. He’d keep hold on one and his mouth would pleasure the other running his tongue in circles before his lips sucked and pulled. Then he’d focus on the other, leaving the first exposed to the air that left a tingling desperation which begged to be spoiled further. Franklin didn’t stay in one place. He pressed on. A soft hum escaped your throat when his tongue touched the delicate skin. One of the area’s where you were the most vulnerable. 

Your blood caught fire, pooling into your lower abdomen, wetting your core unexpectedly as one of his hands caressed the back of your leg. He was teasing you but you were powerless. The sensation of Franklin’s touch was overwhelming so early, or late. You couldn’t hardly think, or even breathe. You felt like you were caught between spaces. Reality and a dream. Sleep desperately clung to you, but Franklin’s words pulled you all the way into consciousness. 

“Let me make it up to you. Let me take the pain away…”  

And you hadn’t even noticed when he lowered his head and his lips vibrated over your mound when he hummed those heated words into your folds. 

A wave of pleasure skittered through your nerves. You felt trapped, but not in the sense that you wanted an xscape. Your body was completely under Franklin’s sovereignty. His tongue, turning your entire form into a quivering mess of heated flesh as he moved forward, fingertips pressing into the inner parts of each of your thighs. His head delved between your legs and he tasted the very essence of you. 

Struggling to hold back the moan fighting its way through your chest, you pulled on the bed sheets. 

Franklin watched you through lidded eyes, and like a man who’d been left unfed there presented to him a favorable delicacy. You couldn’t contain yourself. You moaned when his tongue lapped at your center, his thumb separating the delicate skin to give himself better access. 

He ate. And ate well.  

Your panting filled the air, so sudden that you hadn’t realized you’d surrendered in that moment. Your body on impulse pulled away, but Franklin, alert and determined, wouldn’t let you escape. “Em, Em,” was all you heard filling the room as he protested your departure. That, and the movement on the bed springs giving indication that Franklin had then secured you in place.

With no way of escape you whispered his name in a lust laden tone. “F-Franklin, please p-please, Ahh. I can’t…Uh!” You cried these pleasurable words into the room that contained your many sessions of love making which were mingled in begging him to stop, and also begging him at the exact same time to suck out your very soul! 

You should be angry with him. Upset still, but all that undoubtedly had washed away.

Once you got the opportunity to look at his face for a brief moment, you noticed how he seemed to be delighted by your uneven breaths. Like seeing you so vulnerable gave him pleasure. 

The power this man had over your body and heart was almost frightening.

A soft bite at your inner thigh and you rewarded Franklin with this husky-like moan as your legs shoot. Your body jerked forward when he grazed your clit with the pad of his finger and you bit your lip ever so gently when you heard him hum in this proud satisfaction that he had you right where he needed you. Under his control. His talented mouth had rendered you sensitive to touch of any kind, and as he reached down to stroke his ridgid manhood, to prepare, you closed your eyes and clung to the sensation you'd trapped in your senses.The preparation was always the best part. This anticipation and the moment of entry you desired every time he made love to you.

Another gentle caress across your inner thigh had you clenching your walls. Franklin rubbed the tip of his erection teasingly over your folds. He always liked to cause you some sort of suffering right before, just a little bit. But too long had he deprived you with his business and war, family squabbles and old feelings, so you spoke without ever moving your lips to extend your hand down to grab what you craved until it moved inside you. 

It might be the only time you stole his power. 

Your breath caught at the connection, you could feel yourself being filled up and stretched out. You pulled in your bottom lip as Franklin pressed forward deeper and deeper taking back his position of dominance. 

Your inner muscles quaked and you lifted your head to find your lips hungry to explore his mouth. Either that or you needed a place to shuffle in your moaning, and that had been the first choice. Damn you for being considerate, but you didn't want Peaches to hear. Your small little apartment could get deathly quiet, especially at night, and although there was a good chance Franklin had sent him home after returning, oftentimes he would be somewhere close in proximity. Sure, you wanted to be mindful in the midst of your love making, but your mind wavered. When you kissed Franklin you tasted yourself in the process as he burrowed inside your body only to withdraw before diving back again and that alone ignited a suppressed desire to focus on nothing but him. 

The pace started slow at first but the inner workings of your core instinctively enveloped him begging for more attention. Franklin thrusted in again. You responded by whispering his name. He liked hearing his name. This time it was Franklin who rewarded you with a moan, as he sucked in a breath that transferred back out on shuttering lips. Although he hardly said much, he made up for it with his reactions. You didn't want his words. As he said before, some things didn't need them. His breathing, panting, subtle moans and grunts told the story perfectly. He felt the same as you did. You wanted more of him, and he wanted ALL of you! You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his back and neck, as your fingers traveled over his heated skin while your entangled bodies moved together in a steady rhythm.

Your wet slick flesh quivered around his length and the pleasure filled cries which escaped you knocked against the surrounding space along with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Sorry Peaches. Franklin’s breathing had sped up too. You were now lost in eachother. You moved against him, taking him into your body eagerly. This pace tortured him. Slow, deep long strokes that hit every spot in perfect magnetism of the skin to skin contact. You both felt it, but Franklin’s mouth was wide open and a glance before you looked down to watch him disappear into you again indicated that your tight hot hole was right where he needed to be. Now he knew the feeling of being trapped. 

“Fuck.” He lowered his head and muttered your name in what could only be described as an ecstasy filled sigh of relief. Perspiration had begun to form on his forehead, and without warning he picked up the pace of his steady thrusts. Faster, harder, he was now, glistening, covered in your pool of moisture that guided his way in the dim light of the room illuminated by moonlight. 

Sitting back to reposition, he took the opportunity to watch himself disappear. A lick of his lips and you were certain he liked what he saw. Your breast bounced with every beat. Muscles milking him for every sensation, and every stroke that drove you both closer to the peak of climax. He'd gone so deep that your stomach felt the insertion when he sat your legs over his shoulders.

It had to be several minutes before an organism was fast approaching for him like the start of a raging fire to forest trees. You could always tell by that one single twitch of his length. Only this time, Franklin didn’t have an opportunity to warn you. Usually he would prepare you for his release, but tonight was different. Everything felt different. He gripped at your leg for a brief second before toppling over you and bringing you closer by cupping the lower part of your back so that you were partially off the bed, changing the position of your bodies yet again. You breathed into his neck. He held on for dear life and with this deep grunt, let himself go. That anguish you were so familiar with. It expressed itself in a warmness that filled you up and you lowered your head to catch a glimpse of his face.

God, did it look like a work of the most beautiful art when he climaxed. 

His eyes were shut tightly and his shoulders shook. You were lowered back down on the mattress with the little strength he had left before his body all the way collapsed. You took his weight and hung on to him. Franklin buried his face into the crook of your neck. He stayed there between your legs, and you lifted your head to plant one gentle kiss on his shoulder, and he shifted to kiss your forehead. 

Your bodies were heated, sweating, and both of you were struggling to catch your breath. 

Slowly, Franklin opened his eyes and looked at you with a clouded gaze. This tender look of longing. 

While your brown hues searched for answers with little to no success, you took one of your hands to rest it at the side of his cheek, feeling the smoothness with the pad of your thumb. 

“What baby?” 

“Imma make it right. When we wake up tomorrow, it’s your day.”

“My day?” Rarely had anything ever been made entirely about you. A little smile crept up on your lips. You could imagine Franklin waking up early to cook breakfast, messing up your kitchen in the process, but the effort he put into it would be cute, whether or not it tasted the best. He never cooked. So you had no opportunity to judge his skills. Now cooking, that happened to be your specialty, and although you didn't mind and most of the time enjoyed doing so, someone cooking for you would be a nice change. 

“I’d like that,” you said almost in a whisper, making a path over his chest with a single finger, careful not to disturb or cause any unpleasantness to his gunshot wound. 

As gently as he could, Franklin pulled out and readjusted your bodies so your back was lying against his chest. He wanted to hold you. You knew this because you often found yourself in this position. Spooning, they called it. You liked it. His hands moved around your waist and his head came to rest on your shoulder. 

“Mhm. No beeper. No Peaches. Nothin' ta do wit’ bidness. Just you and me.”

The two of you laid there, and eventually time carried on into the late hours of the night with the promise of sunrise.  

From the edge of sleep, you heard Franklin whisper something as he adjusted his arm so it wrapped around more completely. 

“...You deserve the fuckin’ world. I'm gonna give it to you...”

With a lean into his chest, breathing deeply in his scent of faded soap and sex, you shook your head so gently, it barely caused him to stir. 

“Don’t want the world…” you breathed. “Just you…” 

……………………………………………………………….

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @notapradagurl7 @hopelessdisasterr

Writers Note: So FYI this was the first writing for the Snowfall fandom that I wrote. I started off with an original black OC but after jumping into my second story and getting more comfortable with 2nd Person Perspective, I decided to do a revision to this. What did I do? I changed the OC to You and made it a one shot! I would like to thank everyone who supported the original idea I had and I hope you like what I've done with the turn around. Thank you for the love and support. Until next time, happy readings. 💙

PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR CLAIM ANY OF MY WRITING. -Wide Nose And Wonderful /Mrs. Saint Writes.

[etherealevangeline]

Midnight Morgue—The Morgue

hey ya’ll! please read the notes below. MDNI! please enjoy and don’t hesitate to leave feedback, it means a lot to us writers! words: 20k. my ao3: etherealevangeline

summary: reader finds herself joining Price as a coroner to pursue her “career,” as a mortician. this may or may not be an excuse to explore her eerie curiosity of death, considering her painful backstory of her dead family. this story deals with explicit themes such as smut, gore, horror, alcoholism, mental health, delusions, surgical themes/terms but probably inaccurate lol.

notes: just love the look of 2009 simon riley in this morgue AU. morgue may or may not be haunted :) ritualistic themes/cult like behavior. random sketchy ass town. Price is the supervisor. Mactavish & Garrick are small town police officers. slow burn simon x reader, enemies to lovers, simon has a huge chip on his shoulder. reader is questioning her belief in the spirit realm. feminine pronouns are used.

You found your way into the small borough of Carbon county shortly after losing your loved ones. Now, that was a while ago, having been a few years. But the pain and agony of that night never left you. It left a sinking, wallowing hole in your chest every time you thought of it. And to disguise your pain—you had turned to drinking. The feeling of the whiskey went down like water on the weekends. If anything it was less of an alcoholic drink to you and a source of never ending depravity. A way to rot on your couch.

‘’A wee alcoholic, aye?’’ You’d remember the man's words. He wasn’t the new rookie deputy cop you’d expected. No, near him was a towering man, all clad in his uniform. He had a buzzcut. What you remember was his cognac eyes boring into yours, the sight of a frown pulling at his lips from the stress of the job already taken over. Crow's feet pinched at his eye corners. His hand rested on his walkie talkie as if cradling it to soothe him.

’’Bloody hell, I don’t remember his name.’’ You muttered weakly, a sigh leaving your nostrils. Your languid, half lidded eyes from intoxication gaze up at the ceiling. It spins. You could hear the background noise of your TV—it’s nothing interesting. Nothing seems to be of interest anymore. It drags on and on until her voice drowns out. That wallowing hole inside your chest can never be sewn up, you think.

And that was mostly why you worked in a morgue. Since seeing the death of your kind—it stirred something deep inside you. Something you didn’t understand from the very beginning. It was a need to know, a primal curiosity to understand death and how it impacted the human body. You were once told it was how you coped with what happened, but how many times did you believe that when you drank your hundredth for the night?

What you still wanted to know was how it felt when that car wrapped around that pole. The smell of gasoline to burn your nostrils, and how it felt to have a 9mm blow your head off. The sound must be deafening. It must have had to blow in your eardrums and produce a shudder so violent you'd whip around. It was sickening and frightening, the kind of thoughts you had. Some would think so. But how could you sit there and write them off, when they whispered from the dark halls of your mind? Every night, beckoning. Chanting like venomous whispers.

And when the nights came, you’d sit and analyze. Hunched on your bed as the autumn night howled and the wind moaned for reprieve. Rain splattering like blood against the window. You’d replay what you’d see over and over again—only for your body to fall short of it all. The one thing missing was the experience. You were just an outsider when it happened to them, that is what it felt like.

But soon, the voices seemed to unravel. A slow hum settled down from the corner of the dingy, messy kitchen. Tablecloth slipped off, no center piece for decorum. The window was open letting in cold stark air. The lamp blinked, and surely enough your attention was back on the TV ahead of you. Rain pounds the screen as the reporter wears her flapping raincoat, eyes squinting as water raced down her pallid skin.

‘’Rattling one of the small boroughs of Pennsylvania in Jim Thorpe, a 32 year old woman was found dead by the Delaware river. Her body was found by a hiker.’’

‘’The small town is terrified as strings of bodies are found scattered around the Poconos Mountains. Will get back to you once we take five.’’ Just like that the screen cuts off. You’re left staring, shot in one hand empty. It feels cold and stale all of a sudden. It churns uneasily in your stomach, gathering like a whirlpool. Pulling at your insides and causing your vision to tilt.

Before you knew it—you’re throwing up again in your trash bin you kept beside you for when it did happen.

With all of the murders happening—bodies came in for an autopsy faster than usual. Normally, it was of a man who had fallen off a ladder and landed fatefully on his head. Leading to a subdural hematoma which then took his life. Or normally it was a druggie overdose.

But this—this pronounced a temperamental chill down your spine. Your arms brushed your sweater in uncertainty as you walked in. Your purse hangs from your shoulder—giving a glance at the receptionist who is flat faced and has saggy smile lines.

She bears no interest as you walk past and down the rickety, narrow hallway. You punch the elevator and walk in—dim and yellow lights casting a pallid sickly glow on you.

Once in the morgue downstairs, you amble down the cold constricting hallways. It’s peacefully silent, and occasionally scuffles from inside the autopsy room could be heard. When you walk in—you’re not surprised to see the bear of a man washing his hands in the sink, back facing you. He wore a reddish brown sweater, and it's rolled up. Streaks of grey line his once blonde hair. Its faint, but when you look closely you can see it. In front you is the morgue table, an overhead fluorescent lighting sending your head pounding. The lab is beside the sink, the fridge to the side holding blood samples.

‘’You’re late,’’ Price greets you gruffly, turning to wipe his wet hands on the nearby rag. He slaps it down a little too hastily for your liking--turning his shoulder to look at you, and you swallow, distant eyes tracking his boots. They were distressed, worn, and the leather was peeling from the toe front. The flaps weren’t firm anymore. His khaki pants slouch slightly at the rim of the boots.

’’Got caught up.’’ You said, the words sounding flat. It bore no heartbeat. You knew what you got caught up with.

‘’Get on with it, MacTavish is coming in with a body.’’ Price said firmly and you nodded your head. His pinched eyes watch you for any signs of swaying or slurring. You feel like a carcass—being picked apart under his gaze. He picks and prods at the meat and torn flesh that resembled you, leaving nothing but that exposed hole of deprecation.

You shudder under his gaze. You don’t like it. But you know this is how he is. Ever since you first came. It must be from all his years of military experiences which is why it came so easy to tear you apart like this with just a look.

You unwrapped your scrubby red scarf, hanging it in the closet door inside. You hang your purse and quickly scrub your hands down, head lowered in the sink where he previously stood. You get under your fingernails, as the suds glide down. You scrub until red shows up and your chest feels less tense than it did under his gaze.

‘’Get on with it, MacTavish is coming in with a body.’’ Price said firmly and you nodded your head. His pinched eyes watch you for any signs of swaying or slurring. You feel like a carcass—being picked apart under his gaze. He picks and prods at the meat and torn flesh that resembled you, leaving nothing but that exposed hole of deprecation.

Wiping your hands, you move with haste. You walk past him and the smell of tobacco hits you. He moves back to address you, eyes lingering on the top of your head uneasily. His arms cross as if surveying you. Was he a hypocrite, eyeing you as if you’d committed a war crime for drowning your sorrows? You shouldn't think like this—he’s your superior. But apart you has little to no room to care for his reputation.

You draw a figure of a body, finishing the legs, trailing up to the arms, and head. You then do a quick rinse and snap on some gloves by the lab desk area. Your fingers wiggle, and you turn to Price, holding up your hands and nodding.

He makes a quick move to talk, ‘’You’re not dead until—‘’

‘’You’re warm and dead.’’

Something almost like pride flickers in his eyes as you now announce it with ease. At first you didn't understand the implication behind the words but to him it held some sort of motivation. You thought it was silty to have said it--but upon seeing that glint in his eye it has you second guessing your thought for a second.

‘’If I ave’ to drag you to work, I will personally see to it that you’re warm and dead.’’ He said dryly. There's a hint of something in his scruffy voice but you can’t quite name it. The way his expression is hidden makes you tilt your gaze to his to see what’s underneath. To cut him open like a can of worms, to expose his insides and all his guilt. Shame. Repressed nightmares. The way he'd done with you. Maybe you’ve been staring too long because he then clears his throat.

The sound of boots thudding down the hallway come into earshot and soon a pretty, tall and boisterous man walks in. He’s sporting a mohawk, his skin somehow glistening despite the dreading atmosphere of the night. ’’We copped one, Doc.’’ He said in his thick Scottish accent, nodding a head before his eyes roamed over to you. His light eyes if it was possible--swelled with even more amusement.

You stand there, ignoring him as the body rolls in. It's the new recruit, you remembered, the one who held his walkie like it was something beloved to him. You flash a glance at his uniform—Garrick.

The victim is covered in a white sheet, you can’t tell if it’s a woman or man yet. The feet point out, unmoving and poking at the cloth. After MacTavish removed his gaze from your still form, his walkie beeps and he then comes over by Garrick who situates himself at the other end. On three, they hoisted the body onto the table.

‘’I had it.’’ Price muttered, slapping his gloves on.

Mactavish gives him a sloppy grin before stepping back on his boots, ‘’Wanted to impress the Bonnie.’’

Bunny?

What Bunny?

Confusion must’ve betrayed your normally flat face as you walked to the table, tilting the overhead lights to the body below. MacTavish's’ eyes glitter at your reaction, happy he got to milk some sort of response from you. You could tell he was interested, but not quite sure what to poke and prod at just yet. Garrick scoffs and a hand rests on his belt.

’’You’ll get it soon, dinnae fash yer’ self.’’ You glance at where the face is supposed to be, and then at MacTavish. Your lashes brush your brow bone, unwavering.

’’Give her a few and she’ll pick up the Scotsman, yeah?’’ Garrick said roughly, moving so he strolled the gurney out. He disappears down the dreadful hallway and you hear the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights again. Something irked you. They spoke as if you weren't in the room. Then again, you had a habit of shrinking away to hide from the limelight. Could you really blame them?

‘’English, MacTavish.’’ Price mumbles, but MacTavish is stepping back, saluting comically at you both before heading out, one hand resting on his vest. You don’t miss the way his holster wraps around his thigh and hugs it, his sidearm jiggling.

Price grabs his little voice recorder from his table, fingers pressing the red button. It's small and fits in his larger hands perfectly.

’’This is the autopsy of an unidentified male, assisting with John Price is the coroner.’’ He mentions your name and it almost has a grudging sense of respect behind it.

Your heart lurches ever so slightly at the recognition. Did you like that? Did you like being seen? You're not sure what to think as you cross the line of curiosity and shame. He then gave a subtle nod to you to start working. Your hands ghost over the edges of the thin sheet for a second too long.

’’Remove the sheets.’’ Price orders, still not having loosen up his tongue from his ex military days. It's sharp and biting, firm. You bet it straightens the soldiers up before any real whipping began.

And so you do.

You don't shudder at the sight. After seeing it so many times it burns like a memory behind your eyes. Pale cloudy eyes of the man meet yours. At the sight you find it intriguing even, as his eyes convey no emotion. It’s flat, staring into an abyss. He has no consciousness of course. But when you arrived at the scene of your mother, you thought you could’ve seen the horror written on her face in the aftermath.

''Unidentified male appears to be in his early 30s. He is wearing no clothes.’’ You begin, trailing your eyes down his features before his body. You reach out and flex an arm, seeing how the muscles move and flex.

‘’The man is still in rigor mortis.’’ You identify.

Price nodded, ‘’And what could that mean?’’

’’He was found in a colder temperature, or he just died within 24 hours.’’

Price gets up to shuffle to the drawing board. He then goes to write with the thin chalk, his back facing you. ‘’Timeframe 24 hours.’’ The chalk moves with haste. He doesn’t bother to write straight, his writing is long, narrow, and at the end his letter swoops down from the effort of removing the chalk. It screeches a bit.

‘’Blonde hair, possibly blue eyes but hard to tell since it's clouded over.’’

‘’So is it blue or not?’’

You give him a glance from under your lashes, and then suck in a breath. ‘’Blue it is.’’

You then continue, tilting the head this way and that, a pinch forming between your brows as you noted diligently his features. You can feel Price studying you intensely. You know you have yet to have order to your examinations. ‘’Caucasian.’’

You could then hear Price writing on the green board.

’’Scarring around his ankles and wrists, like he’s been bound.’’ Price drops the chalk on the ledge near the eraser and comes forward. He slapped his gloves on, standing at where the head is positioned and he nods for you to go to the board instead.

’’Left and right?’’ He looked at you, watching as you walk past and to the board, a hand still adjusting the gloves. He had a bit of a struggle with the gloves being too tight. You circled the ankle and wrists as he taught you, to which you drew arrows and defined “bound.”

He raised a brow and then his eyes lowered to the unidentified male, ready to start his own observations. The feeling first began as a trickle against his neck, almost like lengthy fingers stroking the skin there. Price rolled his shoulder, as if working out a kink to which you noticed after you turned.

How you wished you blinked an eye. You shifted in your spot.

“I’ve seen this before.” Price murmured, raising the ankles carefully. The joints were shattered, leaving the bone bruised and inflamed. It’s mottled purple and blue, the area ballooned. He reached out almost tenderly to push at the bone in the ankle where it meets the bulbous joint. The bone juts and pressed against the superficial skin, threatening to pierce. It slides uneasily.

“When?” You can’t help but ask. Curiosity strikes and you find yourself tip-toeing to eye his movements. He stands quite far, so you have only the view of his head tipped down, hands skillfully working below his waist.

In fact his grey is pronounced even more. It shines under the light like silver. “Ten years ago…another male came in. Unidentified. Broken wrists and ankles just like this.”

You swallowed and Prices’ eyes flashed. Almost as if reliving a forbidden memory. It's the way he said it--like a breathy whisper, as if too afraid to still admit what he’d seen. “It was a kid at that time.”

“A kid?”

Price nodded and then furrowed his brows. The skin pinches from the urge to shove the memory away. He then looked up at you, his eyes shadowed as he rested the ankle down. You clamped your mouth shut, as it seemed personal, and the voice recorder was still rolling.

Price then swiveled around to open the mouth of the male. His hands pry and it falls open unnaturally, slack and limp, “Front incisor teeth are missing. Looks to be yanked from the root.”

You wince at the comment, imagining every bit of it. It makes you shudder. You turn and continue writing down his observations, circling the mouth area. A nauseous feeling arises in you. The feeling where your stomach rises and drops on a rollercoaster ride—except there is no rollercoaster. You couldn’t tell if it was from the drinks the night before, or from seeing the body crudely mangled.

“There’s something stuck in the throat. The esophagus.” Price suddenly said, shining a light down the man's throat with a smaller penlight. You turn around, hair whipping slightly, approaching the table where the body lay. You move as light as a feather, your footsteps unheard. A steady hum from the light above soothed your nerves. “What is it?”

Price sighed heavily, as if the nights worked dragged on. It did, you couldn't blame him. “When we perform the internal examination we’ll see.”

During the internal examination, Price steadily held his instrument. The scalpel slices cleanly at the pale flesh. When he inspects the throat area, he detaches the larynx, the and the esophagus, there’s swelling and trauma. You narrowed your eyes in focus to see.

“It looks…round.” You muttered as his gloves prod at it. Price extracts what looks to be a small pouch. When he lifts it in the air because his eyes occasionally struggle to see in the dark, his brows shoot up. At first you couldn’t tell what his reaction was. That glimmer of surprise goes away, as if squashing the butt of a cigar.

From behind the pouch as it swings, his gaze then shifts to you, brows lowering into an unsettling scowl, “It’s a small pouch. Looks like it didn’t make its way into the stomach, it was too big.”

“So he choked on it,” You conclude but Price is quick to stop you.

“We don’t know that’s how he died. Open this pouch for me.”

You nod and round the corner of the table, hands fumbling for the pouch carefully. He placed it in your palms and you moved over to the lab table, where the microscope is and your vials. You sit, eyeing the pouch under the microscope as Price continues speaking to the recorder. “The pouch was lodged in the esophagus, someone made him swallow it. Or he did it on his own. But the bound marks suggest otherwise, along with the shattered left and right fibula.”

You shudder gruesomely. Someone made him swallow it? It was looking more and more likely, especially with the bruises which pointed to a clear MO. You leaned in, eyes narrowed like lasers and eyeing the material under the microscope. You hum and then move away, glancing at Price who is working the victim.

“It’s just a pouch, nothing is inside.”

“Why would he swallow something empty?” Price muttered, shaking his head as his eyes trail to the rest of the body. You wanted to know as well, to have the dots connect. Suddenly, in the line of work you found yourself feeling alive. A thirst for understanding death, yet a desire for figuring out the puzzle pieces. You thought you couldn’t feel that way ever again. You swallowed and your eyes darted away at the floor, and Price cleared his throat. You joined him.

The night ended and before you knew it, you and Price concluded the death was caused by a stab wound to the heart. A tiny hole, piercing through the muscle and flesh, almost looking like a corkscrew. it was located laterally, by the ribs. It was nestled well. The thought of someone painfully easing it in, twisting and hearing the bone crack under pressure—It was too much. And then to endure the plain of everything else. It was borderline torture at that point. Maybe it was torture.

But why? Why this person? What did they do? More so, who did this?

''Whoever did this must've had a helluva PTO.'' Price muttered, before he shut off the lights, casting the area in complete darkness.

''Who do you think did it?'' Your voice comes out strong and grounded. Apart of you was not afraid to ask, you yearned for an answer. You gazed at Price who sighed and grabbed his hunky jacket, slinging it on. He glanced at you.

''If I took a wild guess, someone with a lotta' experience. They knew which bones to break, most importantly corked the mans heart fatally.''

You don't necessarily feel an ache towards the male, but it manifested as an insistent need to analyze the situation. That was how your brain worked, like a piston.

Price had left a while ago, leaving you to fend for yourself. The night is settled with a thick, blue haze stretching solemnly across the cemetery. The trees huddle and lean in as if sharing secrets, but more than ever you feel it offers you no child like curiosity, the way you would have felt when you were naive. Blankets of fog roll in like an oncoming wave. You strolled to your car.

“What d’ya find?” Suddenly, a voice cuts through the cold stale air. A certain MacTavish called out from behind you as you walked. You're arms are crossed as your burgundy cardigan is wrapped around you to keep you warm but it offers little comfort. Your scarf flits in the air as you turn around to see him.

Mactavish is leaning against the patrol car, and biting into a sandwich. It reminded you that your stomach ached as well for food. Something warm. Something tangible beyond years of numbness. You eye him before walking forward to stand beside him, although not necessarily mingling in his personal space. “What are you doing here? At this hour.” You ask, not wanting to discuss what had been on your very mind as you walked out the morgue. It was teetering at 2am now, and the idea of having a lengthy discussion of blood and bones did not interest you.

“Got called in for a bar brawl.” He said with food in his mouth. You eye him with a sense of distaste, a brow cocking and your arms still crossed to shield yourself from the October cold. You swallowed and shook your head. The shadows of the gnarly fork like trees draped over your faces, the lamp shade doing nothing to console your uneasiness. “Sounds better than my night.”

“Join me, then.” He said a bit too cheekily. You scoff, shoving a hair away from your cheek as it grazed in the wind. You’re pretty sure you resembled Rudolf the red nosed reindeer since the cold was getting harsher and unforgiving these nights. It consumed the forests and every crevice it could.

You then look at him, pausing and eyeing his amused expression. His eyes twinkled, most certainly remembering a certain event you two shared.

Finishing the last of his sandwich, he dusted his hands off and stood tall, shifting on the pavement. “I’ll drop ya home.” Did he forget you had a car?

“Not necessary.” You said a bit too fast, cutting him at the last second. You stiffen up and grasp at your elbows tighter, as if trying to melt away in your cardigan. You’re not sure what’s worse, him seeing the bottles of alcohol on the ground, or your messy unkempt place. It looked as if a hurricane rummaged in there. And his joke of being an alcoholic—it rubbed you the wrong way. The alcohol would only confirm his jokes of you.

But there was no use hiding it. It’s what you depended on for a second long high. And then the weight came crashing down, it crashed hard. But now it had been a running joke of your drunkenness, when you came into work accidentally and met the cop, MacTavish. Let’s just say, you two played in places you weren’t supposed to be.

He happened to just drop off a body, whilst he found you sitting at the stale reception desk, working. You typed clumsily and appeared dazed. The lady called in sick, so Simon took over your shift, a man you'd met a few times. MacTavish then grinned devilishly, “Aren’t ye' the new morgue lass?” And you gave him a bedazzling smile and grin as if you’d known the man. Cheeks lifted, hair flowing in waves, the warm light almost illusioned you in such a cunning way. You did not know him. It was the alcohol pumping loudly combined with the horrible urge, insistent urge to run away from your past. And behind your eyes you hid very well the pain and agony. It was believable, to the point MacTavish thought you were one of those rowdy restaurant girls, cosplaying as a mortuary assistant. Probably his favorite trope.

You could remember the way he hid without a car it seemed in the morgue storage. He laid down, went in and you shut it. To scare him—you suddenly spoke amongst the corpses when five minutes passed and he yelled, wanting to get out. “Lass, I swear to god next time ye’ will be in here.”

Snapping back to reality, as the wind howled like a wolf in pain--you knew that wasn’t the real you. This was. This distant, shrouded and shell of a self. You zoomed back in, the voices and vision fading away from view. You could hear him talk clearly now.

He had his hands raised as if his hands were burned, brows raised, “I willnae’.”

You awkwardly glance at him, to which he gazes at, before walking on your boots off the pavement, fishing for your car keys in your cardigan pocket. Your car beeps when you press the button and you sighed. Your silence left him stunned momentarily, and confused. The man is not sure of what to think when it came to you, your behavior. You were first a Tinkerbelle, the manic pixie that night, and now you were a closed off wall.

“Get home safe, will ye?” He hesitantly said from behind you. He watched as your hair whipped and you then gave him a weary glance before leaving in your car. You thought he muttered something along the lines of, “Can never seem to pick one up, aye?” He sighed pitifully, turning away.

In your car as you drove down the narrow highway, trees whizzed past. An eerie fog had set in and you put on your hard lights to see ahead. You then slowed down, sighing through your nose. Long morning, love drive.

[anon-402]

Maxo’s End of Stream Key Points.

Where he talks about his character, what it means to be dead in the QSMP, and what could probably happen in the future!

The only thing the federation couldn’t control was me; how I die.

Chat: “You can return to QSMP as a ghost!” Yeah, I’m gonna think about it…

I feel a bit upset because I wanted to reach the ship and say my goodbyes to everyone. I wouldn’t get on the boat tho.

Chat: “Cellbit, Mouse and BBH didn’t make it either.” The only thing I know is I’m dead, and that’s what I want for my lore.

I don’t have anything scripted (for the future). I’m gonna miss QSMP, but because I take rp too seriously, there’s no turning back. Yeah, I can maybe go back as a ghost and haunt people, but not as Cubito Maxo.

The rest may survive because they want to keep playing QSMP, but I say my character is dead and he’s dead because he died in an explosion. If dying means not being able to return to QSMP, it’s fine.

Going out without saying goodbye is what makes me mostly upset. (Reads chat) Do a tape? As if I did it a long time ago? I didn’t thought about that. That’s a good idea. I’m gonna ask the Admins.

I would’ve liked to do the tapes these last days, but I wasn’t thinking of committing suicide before. I didn’t know what was going to happen. (The only thing I knew) was that my character was desperate.

Dono: It would be cool if you could return as an old island survivor who helps the others to- That’s something I don’t get to decide, this is not my series. I can offer it, but that doesn’t mean it fits. I can’t go and say ‘I’m gonna return as a survivor’ because it doesn’t mean it can fit (in the story).

For the Federation to take the bomb away from me and me dying is a way to show how powerful it can be. This kind of thing is necessary in roleplay.

There’s people who liked Purgatory, but I don’t like when I have to gain points. My thing is roleplay. Purgatory was full hardcore, and it’s tiring for me to farm points. When Aypierre killed me for rp reasons, I was like, ‘look what you’ve done all because of some points’ (I think he’s referring to the other players having a discussion because of his dead)

If my character had to kill BBH… (groans) I can’t, he’s my friend. I can’t switch my mind because of some points. It didn’t fit me or my character and that’s why I didn’t log in. I was going to get frustrated eventually.

If I went through the island saying ‘don’t kill, don’t kill’, they’re going to say ‘look at this hippie mf smoking weed’.

(Reads chat) What do you mean Purgatory 2? I can’t believe it. At least we are dead (laughs). I prefer the other island.

There’s something lore related that I’m really happy about; Quackity accepting he works for the Federation. I mean– everyone suspected it, but there was people still denying it.

(While laughing) Dude, I took the detonator out and no one listened. I mean, yes, there was people roleplaying and asking me what was it. But it was bad timing, there’re too many interactions. Improvising is hard because not everything is perfectly done as in your head. But I was trying to tell them that I had a bomb, but it the end they stole my bomb’s wi-fi.

Tbh, I was already tired of Minecraft. I played almost every day in the QSMP, I needed a rest. In a way, it’s sorta like vacations, only that I can’t return as Maxo Cubito. I will have to return as Maxo Ritual Challenge or Maxo Mutation Zombie. I think I would have a better time with that kinda role.

(Reading chat saying he was evil) I don’t think I made an Evil Maxo rp, because I never wanted to detonate the bomb. What I wanted to do was to negotiate and get everyone out of the island because I love them. I wanted to scape and then detonate it behind us, y’know?

I find interesting the ending, I liked it.

I will make some tapes, so they realize I’m dead and wanted to say goodbye to them.

There’s people happy about my dead because they don’t like QSMP, but honestly, QSMP is really entertaining, it’s really fun, and behind it there’s really cool people. Every time I logged on I was always laughing. Things didn’t go my way, it was catastrophic, but as a roleplayer, I have to accept what is put in front of me.

The night is young. Even though there are tribulations like my dead, we have to overcome things, move forward and enjoy life. Who knows when I’ll play Minecraft again. Maybe tomorrow, maybe never- no, no never (tries to not laugh). No never. Maybe within a year. Maybe in two. But one day I will return.  

(Quick reminder English is not my first language. Sorry for any typos or whatnots)

[jennay]

Ex-Husband

You Left me

Rory Culkin x reader

An: im debating if this will be a short story with a few chapters or just two parts.

Words: 2k

Warnings: Angst?

You arrive at the front door of Kieran's house and bring your hand up to knock. You stop midway, wondering why you agreed to come to this gathering in the first place or why Kieran thought it was a good idea to invite you to his wife's birthday party.

Kieran was mostly oblivious and probably thought it would be acceptable and harmless, like old times when you all hung out together, stayed up late drinking, telling hilarious stories, and caught up with each other's lives.

He probably didn't realize how awkward and painful it would be for you.

Now, you were Rory's ex-wife, which wasn't exactly making the situation easy. You can't even remember the last time the two of you were in the same room.

However, the memory of how it ended still haunts you.

The deafening shouts, the cruel words that cut deep and left the most brutal scars. The wounded pride that made you lash out. The rage and betrayal overpowered your love and convinced the two of you to break the vow you swore to keep.

You take a deep breath and bounce your knuckles against the hard wooden door. Shit, why didn't you just turn around and leave?

The front door swings open, revealing Kieran. His brown eyes sparkle with joy, and his smile shows you he's happy to see you. Kieran's arms wrap around you tightly, and he rocks you side to side. "I'm glad you made it!"

You hand him the bottle of wine you brought for the group. He gladly takes it, waving you to follow him, but you can't. It's like glue is on your feet, and you're completely stuck.

"Are you coming?" He asks with a gentle smile.

You shake your head, "I don't think I should come in." You quietly say. "Can you tell Jazz I said happy birthday?"

Kieran sets the bottle of wine on the small table to the left of the door frame and steps outside, closing it behind him. He rests his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to sit on the stairs with him.

"Listen, nobody holds a grudge and nobody hates you for what happened, it was a freak accident it wasn’t you’re fault.” He briefly pauses, “Honestly, some days, I miss you more than I miss Rory." He jokes attempting to lighten the mood.

You nod, smiling weakly as you hear the voice in your head telling you it was ALL your fault. "I just feel weird." You admit. "Like, do I talk to him? Do I pretend we didn't just go through a divorce last year? Do I avoid him and pretend he doesn't exist? I don't know how I'm supposed to act."

He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. "You don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with," Kieran says. "Just be yourself. That's all we want from you."

Your head tilts and your eyes widen with disbelief as you stare at Kieran, "Be me? Have you met me?" You roll your eyes and put your elbows on your knees, placing your face in your hands. "Everyone in there knows me as Rory's wife. I'm getting anxious just thinking about it."

He rubs your back soothingly. "Not true, Jazz, and I knew you before Rory. Jazz misses you. Can you try for her? All I'm asking is for twenty minutes." He reminds you. "You can do hard things even if you feel like you can't."

You nod, knowing he's right. "Ten minutes and I'm out."

Kieran smirks as he stands up, brushing the dirt off his pants. He reaches his hand out to you, and you gladly take it. "I'm going to regret this."

He ignores your comment as he opens the front door, grabbing the bottle of wine.

You can hear the cheerful chatter and laughter of the guests in the kitchen as you follow Kieran down the hallway.

Your eyes widen with awe when you enter the living room and see all the decorations. The walls are covered with colorful streamers and balloons, creating a festive atmosphere. A large banner that reads "Happy Birthday Jazz" hangs above the fireplace.

The coffee table is laden with gifts wrapped in shiny paper and ribbons. The couches and chairs are arranged around a low table.

The cake is decorated with white frosting and pink roses and has a number 40 made of candles on top. The room smells like vanilla and chocolate, making your mouth water.

You smile warmly when you see Kieran's daughter, Kinsey, race towards you, screaming at the top of her lungs with her arms open. She's wearing a pink dress and a tiara, looking like a little princess. You scoop her up in your arms and spin her around, making her giggle. She hugs you tightly and kisses your cheek, making you forget about your nerves briefly.

You greet Kinsey with a cheerful smile and hug her tightly. “Hi, sweet girl!” You say, admiring her, “You look so pretty today!”

She snuggles into your shoulder, wrapping her arms around your neck. You feel gratitude for the little girl who adores you unconditionally. You also feel relief, as if she is the human shield that will protect you from awkward encounters.

You carry her with you as you walk to the kitchen, where Jazz talks with her friends. You see her holding a glass of wine in one hand and gesturing animatedly with the other.

She looks radiant. You put Kinsey down on the floor and ruffled her hair. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You tell her softly. “Go have fun with your friends.”

She nods and runs off to join the other kids, leaving you to face Jazz. You brace yourself for the inevitable hug and kiss she always gives you, no matter how long it’s been since you last saw her.

“Babe!” She screams, spotting you from across the room. She pushes through the crowd and pulls you into her arms, kissing your cheek loudly. “You came! I’m so happy to see you!” You hug her back politely, feeling a bit overwhelmed by her enthusiasm. You’ve always loved Jazz, but sometimes she can be too much.

Especially today, when you’re feeling nervous and out of place.

“You look amazing!” She gushes, pulling back and scanning your outfit. “I love your dress! And your shoes! And your hair! You’re such a babe!”

You thank her for the compliments, feeling a bit self-conscious. You don’t feel like a babe at all.

“So, how are you?” She asks, taking your hand and leading you to the counter. She pours you a glass of wine and hands it to you. “How’s work? How’s life? How’s everything?”

You sip your wine and try to answer her questions as briefly as possible. You tell her that work is fine, life is okay, and everything is normal. You don’t want to get into details or share anything personal.

Jazz nods along, but you can tell she’s not satisfied with your answers. She wants more from you, more than you can give right now. She wants you to open up, confide in her, and be her best friend again.

But you can’t do that. Not today.

You start to feel claustrophobic and anxious, surrounded by people who know too much about you and expect too much from you.

You need some air, some space, some peace. “I’m going to step out back for a minute.” You say abruptly, interrupting Jazz’s rambling about her latest project.

Jazz looks at you with concern, but nods understandingly. “Okay,” she says softly. “But don’t be late for cake.”

“I’d never be late for cake.” You joke weakly, forcing a smile. You set down your glass and walk over to the sliding door leading to the backyard. You slide it open and step outside, feeling fresh air on your face.

You sigh long and close your eyes, resting your elbows on the deck's railing. You feel the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. You’re glad it’s a nice day, sunny and warm. You need some sun to cheer you up and chase away the gloom.

You open your eyes and look around the backyard, searching for a quiet spot to sit and relax. You see a table with some chairs under a large umbrella, away from the crowd. It looks inviting and peaceful. You decide to head there and enjoy some solitude. But then you stop in your tracks when you see him.

Rory.

He’s leaning against the railing on the opposite side of the deck; his back turned to you. The wind slightly tousled his brown hair, giving him a carefree look. He looks handsome and casual as if he doesn’t have a worry in the world.

He doesn’t notice you at first, but then the deck squeaks under your feet; he turns slightly to see who’s there.

His eyes meet yours, and your heart skips a beat. The person you wanted to avoid at all costs was now standing right in front of you. You put yourself in a trap, and there was no escape.

“Sorry.” You mumble, feeling your face heat up.

He shrugs his shoulders lightly. “It’s okay.” His voice was calm.

You don’t know what else to say, so you walk past him and head to the table. You pull a chair and sit down, hoping he’ll leave you alone.

You take out your phone and pretend to check your messages, avoiding his gaze. But he doesn’t leave. Instead, he follows you and sits across from you, making you feel even more uncomfortable.

You can feel his eyes on you, studying your every move. You wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, what he wants from you.

“You look nice.” He says suddenly, breaking the silence.

You put down your phone and look at him, feeling annoyed. “Do we have to do this?” You ask quietly, “It’s awkward, and I’m not nearly drunk enough to kiss and make up.”

Rory chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I was just trying to be nice.” He says, pausing for a moment and sheepishly says. “The last six months haven’t been easy for me either.”

“Okay, well, you left me, so I don’t feel sorry for you.” You snap back, not intending to be rude but not wanting to hear his excuses.

He flinches slightly as if your words hurt him, but before he can respond, Kieran steps outside.

You stand up, clutching your phone, and make a beeline for the door. You don’t want to stay here any longer, not with Rory sitting across from you, looking at you with those eyes that used to make you melt.

You don’t want to talk to him, or listen to him, or feel anything for him. You just want to get away from him, this party, and this whole mess.

You walk toward Kieran, who looks at you with a puzzled expression. “Am I interrupting?” He asks, glancing between you and Rory. “I can go if you guys need to talk.”

You shake your head quickly, forcing a smile. “Nope, I was just going in.” You lie, hoping he won’t notice the tremor in your voice. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Kieran nods, accepting your excuse. He steps aside and lets you pass.

He gives you a friendly wink and says, “Don’t fall in!”

You nod back, but you don’t say anything. You don’t plan to return for cake or anything else. You plan to leave without anyone noticing.

You walk through the hallway, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might stop you or talk to you.

You make it to the front door and reach for the handle, ready to escape. But then you hear a voice behind you calling your name.

“Hey, wait!”

You turn around and see Rory looking at you with mixed emotions. Surprise, confusion, hurt, hope. He walks towards you, his eyes pleading with you. “Can we just talk?” He asks softly. “Please, I wanna make things better between us?”

You feel guilt in your chest. You know he wants to talk to you, explain himself, and apologize. You know he still cares about you, maybe even loves you. But you also know it’s too late for that.

Too much has happened, too much has changed, too much has been broken.

You can’t go back to how things were or could have been. You can’t forgive him or yourself.

You shake your head firmly, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over.

“No,” you say firmly. “We can’t.”

You open the door and step outside, leaving him behind.

You walk to your car, feeling his gaze on your back. You get in and start the engine, feeling relief. You drive away from the party, from Rory, from your past.

You don’t look back. You need to move on.

Part 2

[leosficlist]

Johnlock Fluff List 5

Fluff 1, Fluff 2, Fluff 3, Fluff 4

Collections of Clues by ianavi

There was no sleeping that night. And not due to the awkward stammering in the stacks of the library. Or the phrasing of what felt as a sudden dismissal. All Sherlock could think about was John's gaze on his neck, lips, reddening cheeks. How heated he felt under that gaze, how alone when John left. He was itching with desperation to not just be looked at but also touched. It was juvenile fantasy. But he was alone in his bedroom, it was past midnight, and he could indulge. He imagined John's hand reaching to touch his cheek, his fingers brushing his lips. He buried his head into the pillow and groaned. Could John ever see him like that, ever want him?

notes: librarian!Sherlock, I don't usually read AUs but this one is so sweet and lovely, Sherlock sets up themed displays at work

The Unexpected Affair of the Injured Detective by marycrawford

Holmes comes home from work.

notes: watson stitches holmes back up, and comforts him after a nightmare. ACD

Darling by Artemis (Citrine)

Inspired by a very old prompt about Watson calling Holmes 'darling' by accident:

With my eyes closed and my head resting on the padded back of my armchair I let the haunting, lilting music of Holmes’ violin wash over me. The exquisite sounds he drew from the violin and the warmth of the fire lulled me into a gentle daydream. Even when the music drifted into silence I stayed still and quiet, basking in my cocoon of contentment.

notes: ACD/Victorian Holmes

Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b

Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing.

They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want.

notes: the first retirementlock fic I ever read, have reread it many times when in need of some happy ending loveliness

In Dreams by orphan_account

Every once and a while, the dark makes it easier to see.

notes: sleepy bed sharing, sherlock being himself (irritating) while confessing his feelings

Bread and Wine and Curry Once a Week by cwb 8.7k

"I am not agitated. I'm just tired of it. The insinuations, the comments, that I have no... no interest in relationships, or sex."

"Oh. So you do, then?"

"Maybe."

"Which? Relationships, or sex, or both?"

notes: love letters, love confessions, first date, first time

Five Times John Noticed But Didn't Really by ScandalousMinds 6.3k words

5 times John (thought) he noticed something peculiar about his and Sherlock's relationship but really missed the obvious.

notes: fluff, getting together, misunderstandings, insecure sherlock

What Sweeter Music by englandwouldfalljohn 917 words

Mulled wine. That was the ticket.

After the 221B Christmas Party, a relaxed Sherlock takes one more request on his violin... and finds more than he hoped for under the mistletoe.

notes: Sherlock speaks without realizes, confessions, violin, first kiss

Notes On A Love Story by A_Candle_For_Sherlock 4k words

Watson finds a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray in Holmes' room. Or: what happens when a queer novel upends Baker Street.

notes: lovely, honest and sweet, ACD getting together

Laundry Day by Tysolna  1.1k

Habitually, every Tuesday without fail, John goes and does his laundry. Sherlock had developed a habit of his own: He would put small handwritten notes into the pockets of John’s trousers. Notes containing small things, mundane things, calm little asides in the usually hectic and turbulent life in 221B.

notes: could be anywhere you want in canon, sweet, notes and love notes

4+1 (Four Times John Touched Sherlock's Hair, And 1 Time Sherlock Understood Why) by Stressed_Depressed_Lemonzest

Fact: John touched his hair Fact: It felt impossibly wonderful Fact: Sherlock had no idea what to do with this information Sherlock hated feelings. They were illogical, pointless and made no sense. Feelings about John were double that. But they were also pretty wonderful.

notes: set around S1/2, fluffy fluff, gen

But a Flesh Wound by scullyseviltwin 2.4k

John has an accident while making dinner and Sherlock... overreacts.

Five Times Sherlock Fell Asleep in John's Arms by Accident and the One Time He Did It – Accidentally – on Purpose by WillowGrove 7k

Sherlock notices that John keeps cuddling him to sleep and he rather likes it. But then John stops, and Sherlock has to result to schemes to make it happen again. Who falls asleep, who wakes up in who’s arms, and – most importantly – will there be a kiss in the end?

[nightghoulz]

I finished reading Horus Rising. Here is what I enjoyed! And several thoughts/theories that were possibly explained away in another novel.

I'll put it under the cut just in case anyone else, like me, is newer to all of this. Of course most of us know what happens in the end, but not all the details :)

Sanguinius throwing fruit at Horus. Saw a post that the two of them are wine aunts and that is totally true. Lowkey want to draw this in a little comic!

Loken contemplating material possessions after Jubal's death. What would become of his things someday? Is it just junk that another brother would toss out, or would they hold onto it? This part felt very human to me. I am one of those people that will keep a chunk of ribbon from a gift. A fake cardinal that my job deemed haunted sits on my key holder. Every ticket to every event I have been to (cheapest movie being only $5!) So I really liked that little bit.

The whole Whisperheads part of the story. Felt like it was a horror novel at points. I would still like to know who took Jubal's lodge coin thing.

Loken's little initiation ceremony. Felt very cool even if it was just for show and tradition and freaked him out at first (same with the whole lodge fraternity)

Warmed up to the remembrancers. I enjoyed the growth between Mersadie and Loken

The Xenobia weapons museum being broken to and stolen from at the end. I have my suspicion that it was Abaddon that stole it, though could've missed the part if he was off doing something else.

Horus talking about the zodiac signs and how each brother was supposed to represent one. Thinking back on this makes me notice something. "He told me that the twenty signs in the heavens would one day be matched by twenty sons like me" (Horus on page 354). Does this mean Horus knows about the two forgotten/lost primarchs? Or that Omegon isn't known about by anyone yet? I guess there were another eight zodiacs added (or seven if you count that other proposed one-Ophiuchus-though I am not entirely sure how 'official' that is) over the many years that would have passed between now and then. Perhaps it is just one of the contradictions in the novels, however fun it is to contemplate. (I like Horus picking Leo as one of his favorites/he gravitates towards. I am biased though ;) Now I am curious to know what the other brothers picked/were assigned!)

My favorite foreshadowing bit:

Sanguinius says "I see those looks. Are you honestly nursing concerns that our Warmaster is contemplating defiance of the Emperor? His father?" (P 387). It's even sadder if he has foreseen what will happen and keeps up the spirits for the men around him. I'm assuming he hasn't had a dream/vision/premonition of what is to come, so if he has, props to him for not going insane (cough cough Konrad. Sorry dude. Even though I don't think he's insane for most of his time. That comparison can be fleshed out when I get to his books.)

I am so glad that I finished this damn thing. Honestly, it is the first full length novel (I've read shorter stories. VERY picky with books.) I have finished since I read one for a class in college, though that one was read out of spite in one day :') I am very particular in what I read between all of my other hobbies, so I am glad for this lovely community here.

Perhaps some of the other books will magically appear in my life. It's happened twice, strangely enough. I had read a book in school and wished for it dearly, then found it in the mud on my last day there. I still have it! Then another time, I found one in the dirt near the small pond by my old house. The copy was far too beat up for me to repair it as a kid (though looking back, entirely possible) so I cannot recall what the hell the book was. Anyways.

One down, fifty three left to go!

[yuriko-mukami]

Her Calamity Dark Prologue

Beta reader: @ruki-mukami-dl

Chapter Selection

Story so far...

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️

This story includes themes that can be triggering. The content has similar traits to Diabolik Lovers' games. By reading forward, you accept that the story is meant for people who enjoy dark romance with scenes intended for adult readers. There won't be further warnings, so if you aren't a fan of these types of stories, DO NOT READ.

TW & CW: Toxic relationship behavior, captivity, sex, violence, blood, biting, various kinks, and probably something else too.

Chapters with sex tagged with #steamytimes and chapters with either toxic content or violence tagged with #lurid lilies.

She's something worth holding onto After everything she's gone through Rose full of thorns Hope through the storms She's got stories that could haunt you

— Curiosity by Bryce Savage

Yuriko pressed her palms together and lowered her gaze. She was standing at the far end of the backyard of the Mukami manor in the shadows of tall trees, where she had built a tiny stone shrine that held a photo frame with her mother’s picture. She had just placed a cup of rice right next to it.

Mom, if you can hear me… I’m so sorry what happened to you. I never realized how your life was, I never saw it for real. I probably made many mistakes, but you said nothing about them. And… I didn’t ask how you were and what was going on in your mind. Then you were suddenly gone… A whimpering sob escaped Yuriko’s lips. I wish we would have more time together… but I understand that you had to go to Yuuto. But… but… if only you had told me, then I would have realized sooner… I loved you so much, yet I didn’t say it often enough. And now, it’s too late…

So much had happened in the last few years. Yuriko’s mother, Tsukino Hisoka, had gone missing when Yuriko had been in her second year of high school. She had started to skip classes, until she hadn’t gone to school at all during her third year, ending up failing completely. After that, her father, Tsukino Keisuke, had moved them to Kaminashi City… which had turned Yuriko’s life upside down or more like, inside out.

Little had Yuriko known, that her parents had met in the said city, fallen in love there, and married, even though her mother had been a Kitsune and ran away from her home village that was located in the Demon World. All this had been slowly revealed to Yuriko after she had met a Vampire called Mukami Ruki in Ryoutei Academy where her father had forced her to start over her third year.

I know it might sound scary, Mom, but I have found my happiness with Ruki. Only because of him, the seal you and Dad made that witch put in my blood was broken and my fox side surfaced. Because of Ruki, I can finally be myself. Yuriko sighed. Was that too harsh? Surely, her parents had thought what would have been the best for her and that’s why hid away her supernatural true nature. I… I don’t blame you for doing it, of course not. But I’m happier this way. Ruki… I love him, and I don’t care that he is a Vampire. So, you simply need to accept that, Mom.

Was her mother happy now? Yuriko couldn’t help but wonder. Hisoka had been executed for running away and marrying a human, and Yuriko would never see her again. It had been so long ago since they had talked to each other the last time. So many things had been left unsaid.

Yuriko lifted her gaze and looked at her mother’s photo. Hisoka didn’t smile in it but stared into the distance. It had been taken in the same year, Yuriko had been born, hence Hisoka looked much younger in it than Yuriko remembered her. But it had been the only photo she had managed to find in the apartment she had shared with her father for a brief while. For some reason, Keisuke had left that photo behind along with all Yuriko’s things, when he had left. To where? Yuriko didn’t know… and she had come to realize that she didn’t care. It was better this way. Now, the man couldn’t hurt her or her big brother, Yuuto, anymore.

“But Mom, don’t worry. I’m going to do my best in school now and help Yuuto build his life here in the Human World. Everything will be fine for both of us. Your efforts weren’t in vain.” Yuriko clapped her hands together two times and bowed her head for a moment.

“Here you are…” The voice from behind the bushes made Yuriko flinch. She glanced at her mother one last time before turning around.

“Ruki…” Curling her lips up, Yuriko tried to make her eyes shine.

Ruki stepped into the shadows that offered a fresh spot in the summer’s heat. Even though Yuriko was sure the Vampires didn’t sweat, Ruki had replaced his usual combo of long-sleeved shirt and blazer with a black t-shirt that had a skull pattern. Yuriko was sure that Kou had gotten it for Ruki. She dug her bare toes into the soft ground as if drawing strength directly from the earth. She was only wearing a light sundress and still sweating. How unfair.

“A penny for your thoughts, my angel.”

“Umh…” Shifting in place, Yuriko hid her hands behind her back. “Nothing big… I just… came here to… talk to Mom…”

A cool touch brushed Yuriko’s hair off her cheek and behind her ear. Leaning in, Ruki pecked her lips. “I see.”

“I… I… know it doesn’t probably make sense, but I feel closer to her this way…”

“Then you should keep doing this. I will tell my brothers to leave this corner alone.” Ruki wrapped his arm around Yuriko’s waist. “But if you are done now, you could come to the pool with me.”

Yuriko leaned against Ruki. “Isn’t Yuma still in the garden, filling that mystery hole that had appeared while we all were buying the groceries?”

Ruki shook his head. “He finished with it. I still do not understand where it came from. It looked like something had dropped from the sky… Haa… probably my imagination.” Nudging his nose against Yuriko’s, Ruki smirked. “However, Kou took Yuma and Azusa out, so now, we are all alone here.” He captured Yuriko’s bottom lip between his and gave it a gentle tug.

Gasping, Yuriko nodded, and Ruki released her lip. Before she could say anything, he had already gathered her into his arms. Hastily she enveloped his neck with her hands, holding onto him while he marched through the yard towards the pool. When he stepped into direct sunlight, the heat welcomed Yuriko once more.

“Somehow, this summer feels hotter than any other…” Yuriko buried her face in the crook of Ruki’s neck. He was cold against her, like her personal cooler in the sweltering weather. But being this close to him caused a whole new problem, another one Yuriko had struggled with recently.

Was it because of the summer heat? Was it something else? Yuriko had no idea, but as she drew breath and Ruki’s musky scent sailed into her nose, her heart took a sudden leap and she was happy that he was carrying her, for her legs would surely have given up in this very instant. Sticky, soaking feeling slithered deep within her, gluing her panties between her thighs even though Ruki had literally done or suggested nothing more than alone time in the pool.

“Hmm… already turned on by your master~?” Ruki’s whisper vibrated against Yuriko’s eardrum, causing a squeeze in her. She shifted in his arms, letting him feel her fingernails on his nape. “Lately, you have been much more like this than before, almost like I have awoken something in you. I wonder what it is…”

I wonder about it too! Yuriko gasped against Ruki’s neck, covering it with tiny kisses. His groan encouraged her, and she gave him a tiny suck. Probably not enough to leave a mark but the sudden urge to have his everything was coursing faster and faster in her. She needed him right now.

“You started to use the new potion this month, did you not?” Ruki’s voice was already hoarse.

The new potion for contraception? Yuriko nodded. Ruki had gotten her another one that needed to take only once a month after she had started to forget her daily routine due to all the stress that had dropped on her shoulders lately.

“Mhm, I have… ” Yuriko breathed the words on his skin, tracing the column on his neck with her tongue. He was cool and salty, just what she yearned for.

“Good girl.” Ruki put Yuriko down right next to the pool before grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling the cloth over his head. It landed on the grass. “My brothers will be away until the evening…” There went his belt. “Come here…”

Grabbing Yuriko by her waist, Ruki pulled her against him. She could feel a bulge pressing on her belly as his hands traveled along her back until they met her buttocks and slid under them, flipping her hem. “So many clothes even though it is hot…”

“Maybe… you should help me get out of them… Master~?” Yuriko lifted her gaze, realizing it was blurry.

Ruki leaned in, capturing her lips with a brief smooch. “Color me curious. What is lying behind those pretty eyes of yours that just changed their shade?” Leaving Yuriko’s butt alone for a moment, Ruki lifted his hand and picked up her eyeglasses. He made sure they were secured on a table near the pool.

“Umh… thoughts of you in the night…” Yuriko swayed her hips. The soaked sensation heated her face even more. “Feelings… I might need to feed…”

“Yet the sun is far from setting…” Ruki stepped closer again, gazing at Yuriko from head to toe. “You look like a little angel…” Without further ado, he snatched her dress, ripping it off her and tossing it on the ground, leaving her standing in her lingerie in front of him.

The moist, soaking feeling was spreading. Soon, it would reach Yuriko’s thighs.

Ruki simply watched her, smirking. “Naughty thoughts, my angel?”

“I… I…  umh… just want to make you feel good…” This was almost too much. Yuriko feared she would faint soon if she didn’t cool down. With a hasty decision, she turned her back to Ruki, lifting her arm and inching her finger under her bra from the backside. Soon, it was unhooked, and she let it slide down.

“Hmm~?” There was a hint of intrigue in Ruki’s voice.

Almost quivering, Yuriko tugged her fingers under the waistband of her panties. She wished she would have worn lace instead of cotton today, but it couldn’t be helped now. Leaning forward, she glided the fabric down her bottom. She didn’t crouch her legs as she lowered the tiny piece of clothing, allowing Ruki to view her from behind for the whole time.

This surely didn’t help with the overly heated feeling but that was one of the reasons Yuriko let this happen. She lifted one foot after another, dropping the panties near the edge of the pool.

“Such a beautiful view. You should stay like that for a moment.” Ruki chuckled. “Or perhaps spread your legs a bit.”

Shivering, Yuriko moved her thighs apart. As she started to feel light-headed, she could hear the sound of Ruki’s zipper going down. Rustle revealed that his pants went off, probably along his boxers, releasing the hardness Yuriko would have wanted right this very instant. Her insides clenched, pushing out more sticky moistness of lust as if welcoming Ruki to enter anytime now.

I can’t handle this! I’m flaring all over! Yuriko straightened up, panting as she peeked over her shoulder only to notice how ready Ruki was for action. She could already imagine the wet slaps, skin against skin as he would thrust her into oblivion and bliss. Oh, she wanted him to shove his hardness deep into her so roughly she would see stars instantly. So harshly that her moans would echo from the wall of the manor. She needed him to fuck her until there was no sense left in anything.

I can’t be this lewd! Oh my gosh!

Turning her head, Yuriko took a leap. A step. Second. A jump. The air swooshed in her ears as her feet left the ground. She gasped and closed her eyes. Her feet broke the surface of the water first, sinking into coolness. The water splashed around her just before it covered her all over as she slid toward the bottom of the pool. Such a pleasure!

Yuriko’s soles reached the floor of the pool, and she bounced upwards. Only seconds later she broke the surface again, gulping for air and blinking as water ran down her cheeks. She couldn’t help but notice how Ruki stared at her from the edge of the pool.

“I should punish you for jumping off without permission.” The words came with a chuckle.

“Ehh? But —”

Yuriko’s protest was interrupted when Ruki dived into the pool. He broke the water hands and head first without splattering it as Yuriko had done. She could see how he swam closer and closer, popping up right next to her only moments later.

Droplets sparkled in Ruki’s dark hair and slid down his nose as he blinked for a while. Yuriko pedaled in place to keep herself in an upright position. She was still slightly out of breath from the jump… and now it felt like not even the water could completely cool her down. Could it be that the new potion made her act like this?

Ruki hauled Yuriko into his embrace, lifting her lightly. Without further thought, she enveloped his waist with her thighs only to feel his hard shaft pressing between their bodies. Holding Ruki by his nape, she raised her gaze to meet his eyes. As she nibbled her bottom lip, Ruki let out a chuckle.

“And now you are acting all innocent. Are you trying to spur your master on with these tricks of yours?” He tilted his head. “Is that so, my angel?”

“I…” Yuriko swallowed. To be honest, she wasn’t sure. It was like something new had opened in her this summer. After everything they had been through it felt impossible to hold back. Her life was here and now, and she wished to have everything with Ruki before someone would take it all away. It was clear that anything she had at the moment could turn out into nothing in the next one.

Before Yuriko could muster an answer, Ruki captured her mouth and pulled her into a kiss. He gave her lower lip a hungry nip as if reminding her how his love could easily hurt and heal at the same time. As always, his kiss was cruel and devouring, impossible to resist.

Already trembling in Ruki’s arms, Yuriko opened her mouth and allowed his tongue to meander in. Groaning, Ruki started a tempting tango that set Yuriko’s soul on fire and pushed all else from her mind.

Pouring everything in the smooch, Ruki made the couple float through the pool until Yuriko’s back met the edge in the shallower end. Only then, he broke the smack, leaving Yuriko panting. He spun her over, pressing her against the rim. In the instant his teeth raked her nape, tongue flicking over the skin.

“You burn like the sun…” Ruki placed a peck on the crook of Yuriko’s neck and nuzzled her shoulder, scraping it. “You should get your punishment…”

Ruki’s lips were as cold as his body but that wasn’t enough to stop the flaring that had taken Yuriko over. Without another warning, he pierced the skin of her shoulder with his fangs and grunted as her blood gushed out. A cry pressed out of Yuriko and her body arched against the edge of the pool as white pain shot through her, blinding her mind from other sensations for a moment. With each suck, Ruki pulled her deeper into dark temptations that contradicted the brightness dancing around the yard.

“Ruki… ahh… please…” Yuriko wasn’t sure what she begged for. Even in the scorching daylight, the world faded from her. Her entire body tingled at Ruki’s touch as his body prowled against hers. His rough hand squeezed and caressed her buttock.

Another pleading moan left Yuriko’s lips. “Please… please… please… I need you…”

As Ruki pulled his fangs out of her skin, Yuriko whimpered. His cold tongue glided over the fresh bite, sealing it but not taking away the sweet swollen pain that throbbed in her.

“You must state your wishes clearly.”

Ruki’s words made Yuriko pant. Frowning, she tried to muster out more even though her whole body was tensed, and her brain turned into a mush. “I… I… need… to fuck… you.”

Silence followed.

Ruki turned Yuriko around, meeting her gaze. There was a whirlpool behind his eyes of the cloudy evening sky. “You… need to fuck your master?”

Slowly, Yuriko managed a nod.

A smirk arose.

“I see. But it does not work like that.” Ruki’s voice was hoarse. He hauled Yuriko against him, his hardness rubbing on her belly. “I am your master, and I will fuck you. Not the other way around.”

Placing her hands on Ruki’s shoulders, Yuriko gripped them. She was pure fire inside, not wanting to hold back any longer. “Please… it… I… I… umh… wish… for it…”

Something flashed in Ruki’s eyes as his arms tightened possessively around Yuriko. His length pressed on her front; hard steel ready to intrude in her. The silence lingered again, and Yuriko dared not open her mouth again.

A minute passed. Perhaps two.

Suddenly, Ruki rolled them over, his back resting against the pool's edge. He lifted Yuriko up and onto his lap, onto his shaft. “Then that is what you will get.”

Gasping, Yuriko held Ruki’s shoulders tighter. Emboldened by her own reckless desire, she swayed her hips and guided him in, not believing that she truly was straddling him, easing herself down and taking him in. His girth stretched her, forcing a long moan out of her lungs.

Ruki gripped Yuriko’s hips, his fingernails slightly digging into her skin as a groan compressed through her mouth. He jerked his shaft up, filling Yuriko to the deepest parts of her. Her back arched in response, and she wiggled against him, whining in a way that sounded almost like howling.

“That’s… my… good… girl!” Ruki thrusted up, groaning between each word. He slid one hand on the small of Yuriko’s back and the other up her spine, all the way to her head, pressing her face closer while his fingers entangled with her hair.

Capturing her lips, Ruki locked Yuriko into his embrace and started to ram into her. Their foreheads pressed together as they moved together, body to body, mouth to mouth. Each thrust sent Yuriko reeling as she enjoyed every single second of holding Ruki inside her.

Almost scrunching Yuriko, Ruki kept going, and she luxuriated in the sweet sensation of almost painful penetration that sent her toward the flaring sun. Powerful sensations built and throbbed below her waist as her every nerve end quivered. Her body clenched around Ruki’s thick manhood, his rough motions sending her closer and closer to the edge already. Her entire body vibrated in response.

Tongues tangling, Yuriko’s insides squeezed against Ruki’s member faster and faster as she was riding to the release she ached for. Sobbing and moaning into Ruki’s mouth, she swayed her body at the pace of his harsh lunges, her cells turning into sparkles as every secret part of her cried out his name. And when he finally poured himself into her, bucking and groaning, Yuriko’s toes curled and back arched as she came apart too.

Hanging on half into kissing, half heaving, Yuriko quivered in Ruki’s arms, relishing the sensation of his cold cum flooding her. Lazily, she swung her butt, hugging his slowly softening shaft with her walls as if her body was trying to get every last drop of his juices. His hand glided to her nape, giving it a tiny clutch.

“You are such a bad girl when the mood is right…” Ruki’s whisper vibrated on Yuriko’s lips. “You simply cannot shake your lust for your master, is that it?”

“Mhm…” Yuriko swallowed, still panting. “I… I just want to be used… by you… because I trust you and love you.”

“Is that so?” Ruki chuckled.

As an answer Yuriko clenched her walls again, this time deliberately, forcing Ruki to grunt.

“I see…” Lifting Yuriko from his lap, Ruki pulled out and whirled her bridal style in his arms. “Let me carry you in.” He pecked her lips before getting up from the water and walking out of the pool.

The summer breeze traced Yuriko’s bare skin as Ruki walked under the trees and toward the manor. Even being exhausted after their tryst, she couldn’t help the heated feeling that was already coursing its way back into her veins.

Ruki stepped into the manor, heading toward his bedroom. “I love you. From the bottom of my heart. And for that, I will fulfill your wishes.”

You can find the uncensored version of the pic from Yuriko's X account and later in the ebook version of the story.

Yuriko yawned, cuddling against Ruki on his bed. Ruki was playing with her hair in an almost lazy manner as if he had been much more relaxed than usual. The sun was sinking behind the window, disappearing behind the tall trees of the forest.

Finally, the inner burning had eased up a little. Yuriko pressed her nose against the column of Ruki’s neck. It was dry now. They had taken a shower – a rather long and heated one – after what had gone on in the pool, and then Ruki had wrapped Yuriko in a towel, making sure she had been properly dried before bringing her into his bed. Her curls were still somewhat damp, and the moist summer heat was wafting in the air, but her muscles weren’t stiff, and she was able to close her eyes and simply breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

This moment of peace. The couple wasn’t in a hurry. Everything was perfect right now; their worries were pushed aside. This was what Yuriko needed.

“You should move into this room…” Ruki placed a kiss on the top of Yuriko’s head. “You are always sleeping next to me anyway. We could bring your clothes and other things in here. I can move my bookshelves in the library so that we have more space here.”

“Umh… are you sure?” Yuriko fluttered her eyes open while her heart bounced a little faster. “I mean… I would love to share this room with you.”

That way we would be even more together officially, right? The soft sensation of her lips curling sent warm shivers through Yuriko’s body. She sighed when Ruki’s fingertips caressed her cheek.

“I am sure. I want to have you by my side at all times. Your everything belongs to me, and I will never let go of you. It only makes sense for us to live in the same room.” Ruki’s nose rubbed against Yuriko’s hair as he drew breath. “I wish nothing more than —”

A tap on the window.

Yuriko flinched from the sound and lifted her head, almost hitting Ruki’s chin. He crawled upright, moving her a bit further before landing his feet on the floor and heading toward the window. As he opened it, a tiny bat flew in, dropping an envelope into his hands. It flapped its wings, dancing in the air around Ruki.

“Good boy, you did well. I will call you again later, when I have read this and decided if it demands an answer.” With Ruki’s words, the bat flew back out, and Ruki made sure the window was shut again.

“Umh… what is it?” Yuriko sat up, pulling the blanket on her lap. It was too hot to wrap her body into it, and honestly, she didn’t mind Ruki seeing her naked anymore. He had seen everything and… he loved every inch of her. That much she had already learned.

Ruki scooted right next to Yuriko, pecking her cheek before he shredded the envelope open. He pulled out something that looked more like parchment than regular paper — it even had a dusty scent on it. Without answering Yuriko, Ruki focused on reading the message. And with each sentence, his brows knitted closer together.

“Haa… It seems I need to take my words back…” Ruki dropped the letter on the bed and ran his hand through his hair. “Do not get me wrong. I want to stay by your side, and I want you to live in this room with me… but that must wait a bit longer.”

“Eh?” Yuriko swallowed but that only made something cold slither down her stomach. There was such a serious tone in Ruki’s voice.

The Vampire raised his hand, brushing a damp curl behind Yuriko’s ear. “Karlheinz-sama has invited me to Eden.”

“For what?” Yuriko could hear how her voice quivered.

“I do not know. The letter said he had something important to discuss with me and that I should arrive alone.” Ruki sighed. “I am probably away for a few days. I will make sure that you are safe all the time. One of my brothers will accompany you.”

“Umh…” Yuriko hung her head. Ruki was her perfect distraction from unwanted thoughts, and now he would be gone. Even if it was only for a few days…

“You could meet up with Elizabeth. I will ask Kou to bring you to the mall and entertain you there. He knows how to do that.” Ruki snatched Yuriko’s chin and lifted it. “Then perhaps a library visit on another day and catching up with your brother on the third. You will be so busy that you do not have time to worry. And when I come back, I will spoil you so much that you will beg me to let you rest. So, make sure you will sleep enough while I am gone.”

Once again, the heat covered Yuriko’s face before the words even had time to sink in. She noticed that a glance from Ruki was enough to make her nod. She would do exactly how he wished. To be his good girl.

[alexturne]

Fic rec: 5 fics I've enjoyed recently

This is just a small list of 5 stories I've enjoyed recently, in no particular order.

1. Some Velvet Morning by @musette22 / @subtle-as-an-earthquake

(14k words)

It happens at the OIympia in Paris, just after the show. Their hundredth show. A memorable one for more than just that reason, as it turns out. (Or, the fic in which Alex's body starts talking before his mind does, forcing him to finally realise a thing or two about his relationship with his best friend Miles).

This is like the perfect friends to lovers fic. The progression and realization is just so natural, the dialogue is impeccable and I was hanging on the edge of my seat, dying to know what would happen next. It's Milex telepathy at its best, it's, like the summary says, bodies knowing what they want before the mind can catch up, and it's just incredibly lovely written. It's so soft and fluffy, their love is so evident through it all, so intimate and intense, and just so beautiful.

2. Baby, He Can Find You by @elorianna

(11 chapters, 56k words)

It's been three weeks since their escape from Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino, and Alex feels like he's forgotten something important. He's tormented by the unfinished song that he brought home with him, and by the secret which he keeps hidden from Miles at the back of the wardrobe. Miles keeps on telling him the hotel wasn't real. That it was nothing but a drug-induced dream. He begs for Alex to move on and forget. But Alex is haunted by the vanished hotel in the woods, and he can't let it go. There's a hole in his memory where something ought to be. A riddle he has to solve. All he knows for sure is that he has to finish the song. It consumes his waking thoughts and his sleepless nights. He must find a way to discover the missing lyrics. Only then will he remember what really happened to him at Tranquility Base...

This incredible sequel to Somewhere Darker was worth the wait! I read it in a couple of hours, couldn't put it down. It really draws you in, amazing attention to detail, foreshadowing, the characters going through so much, growing and finding themselves different by the end of it. Astounding writing, so captivating and meaningful, layered and intelligent, amazingly beautiful and interesting concepts. Scared the shit out of me, 10/10.

3. No Rules In Breakable Heaven by @yellowloid

(8k words)

It’s not sane how much he wants it. It’s not sane how much he wants nothing but to feel him, all around him, his senses completely inebriated by him – Alex, Alex, Alex. Nothing, no one else. Just Alex, just him. Or It's Summer 2013 and Miles comes visit Alex in Los Angeles. When too much alcohol gets in the way of what was supposed to be a regular night out between friends, things rapidly start to degenerate.

This was everything I wanted it to be and more! Reread this again, and it's just incredible. It's super hot, such vivid imagery, and the connection between them is sizzling. It's longing and tension, it's intense and sexy, it's friendship with hidden feelings they deep down knew were there all along, and that making it all ever more satisfying. The queen of deeply romantic smut is back and I enjoyed every second!

4. no one belongs here more than you by @stereobone

(8k words)

"I think it's been a love story the whole time," Alex says.

This is the most gorgeous trip down memory lane, the story of their love through tasty little slices. I'm a sucker for stories like that, and each moment is just jam-packed with the most meaningful dialogue and imagery. I eat up every word, eager for more. It's incredibly poignant, so much is left unsaid and that's the beauty of it. It's the most beautiful and natural progression from friends to lovers, endlessly romantic and perfect, it's been there all along.

5. Here Comes The Sun by CosmicZombie @uhbasicallyjustmilex

(5 chapters, 34k words)

Miles doesn't ever question it. Until he does.

I've read this before and returned to it, and it was just as wonderful as the first time I read it. The portrayal of their friendship is just so natural and believable, and as I finished it, I only wanted more! It's poignantly beautiful, filled with tension, realizing feelings, deep longing, smoldering sexiness, miscommunication, essentially everything a EYCTE fic should be!

💜💜💜💜💜

Feel free to make a little list of your own, and share the love for all of our amazing writers 💜

[sashaisready]

Chapter Fifteen

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

A year after the sudden death of your husband you find yourself at a loose end, unsure what to do next. You're also learning about your sexuality - your hidden desires and fantasies creeping out now you're no longer playing the role of the good wife. A certain Sheriff in town could be the one to awaken something in you.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: some sexual references, smut, hints at heavy drinking/alcoholism

Author’s Note: Okay this is the final chapter! I hope you’ve enjoyed the story. I always have a lot of fun with Lee and this is one of my fave things I’ve written. Thank you for reading, please reblog/comment - I’d love to hear what you thought ❤️

You had to find Lee. You had to talk to him.

After rushing off from Julie you made a beeline for the station. The image of him nervously hovering outside the diner for you gave you hope that maybe all wasn't lost between you both. Maybe he missed you like you missed him. At the very least, maybe you could clear the air and try to be something resembling friends, no longer hastily avoiding each other's faces while in line at the grocery store.

Your talk with Julie had brought you back to those early days after Arthur. Haunted by his presence, but becoming something of a ghost of your own too – ambling around your house by yourself, living in the past - only sustained by fantasy and memory. 

You wanted to live.

Lee was on duty apparently but you couldn't find him anywhere. The station's secretary had just said he was out on patrol. He wasn't at the diner. Not at the bar. Nowhere you'd expect to find him.

As you drove towards his home you caught a glimpse of a familiar cruiser parked up at the side of the dirt road. You pulled over and rushed towards the car but he wasn't in there. He couldn't have gone far. The wind chilled your bones as you pulled your coat closer to your body and you grimaced, looking to the cruiser for sanctuary from the cold. It was unlocked so you climbed in, moving into the backseat and waiting for him to return as you took your jacket off. You weren't sure what you were going to say as you nervously waited for him, but you needed to think of something.

You didn't know it but Lee was only fifteen or so feet away having a quick piss and cigarette in the woods. He kept thinking about the bourbon bottle in his glove box, trying to stave off his cravings, knowing he was drinking earlier and earlier these days.

Losing you had done that to him. He had unravelled since the moment he left your house that night, playing the horrible events out in his head over and over. He knew he'd fucked up and he desperately wanted to talk to you, but had no idea what to say. He thought your frightened face as you sat weeping on the floor. He thought of your heart breaking when he told you the truth about Arthur. Your horror over what happened to Davey, your hurt when he implied you were a whore. You had every right to hate him and he wanted to respect your space.

Occasionally he'd wait around the diner wanting to see you but would inevitably chicken out and go back to his car. He'd even parked outside your house a few times. He'd come up with a million first lines for what he'd finally say to you, but they all evaporated on his tongue.

In short, he was a mess.

He sighed as he trudged back to his car and flopped down behind the wheel. A voice from behind him made him jump out of his skin.

"Hi" you said quietly.

Lee yelped in surprise, clumsily smashing the horn as he jumped and turned to look behind him at where the voice came from. You watched his face twist in shock, then saw him exhaling with relief when he realised it was you.

Lee's breath hitched. It was so good to see you. You looked beautiful as always. He could hardly believe you were here. He suddenly felt very nervous.

"Jesus Christ, are you tryna' fuckin' kill me?" he bellowed as he clasped a hand over his heart.

You couldn't help but laugh at the dramatic display, failing to muffle the sound as you held a hand to your mouth. Lee laughed a little too, in spite of himself.

"I wanted to talk to you" you said, more seriously now as you settled down.

"And you need to be in the back of my car to do that huh?" he mock scolded. "C'mon Crazy, come up here". He extended his hand to you.

"Crazy?" you said, incredulously.

"Yes - crazy to hide in my car and make me jump outta my skin like that."

He moved his hand to you again which you took gingerly as he smoothly pulled you into the front passenger seat. Your heart jumped as your fingers touched and you were briefly transported back to all the moments when his hands had been on yours.

You both sat in silence for a moment as your mind went blank and it was as if you had forgotten every word you'd ever known.

"Lee..." you started.

"No. Please let me" he said softly, looking out at the road. "I...I can't say how sorry I am. For everythin' I said. It was awful. I'm ashamed".

You nodded. "Thank-you Lee, I appreciate it".

"I keep thinkin' about it" he continued. "I shouldn't have told you about Arthur. At least not like that. And the truth is I don't think any of those things. I just said them to hurt you because you hurt me. And with Davey..."

"Lee" you said gently. He turned to face you and his big azure eyes were so full of pain and desperation that it almost hurt to look at him.

"It's alright. We both said terrible things we didn't mean".

"So you don't think I'm a brute?" he asked teasingly.

You giggled. "Well...maybe a little".

He scoffed playfully, rolling his eyes.

"A-and you don't think I'm a whore?" you asked him shyly.

"Of course not" he said quietly. "I just knew you it was somethin' that got to you and I regretted it right away". He averted his gaze, anxiously tracing the peeling leather of his seat.

"Listen, Lee" you sighed. "I need to tell you this. I've had a lot of time to think about it all. And I don't know how you're gonna react but I just need to get it out, alright? So just let me get it out".

He nodded silently, studying the peeling seat even more intently.

"With Davey...I know you did what you thought was right, in your own way. And he was a bad man. What he did to me was..."

You trailed off, not wanting to pull that thread. You stared out at the road as you carried on.

"Well, Julie told me he did similar to her. So I don't feel bad that he's gone. His damn plaque makes me feel sick every time I walk by it, but I know he's burning in Hell and for now that's enough. That being said, it doesn't excuse what you did. It wasn't okay. I'm never gonna fully be alright with it, but I am a big girl who understands life ain't black and white and I accept it".

You took a deep breath. Lee was nodding, watching you carefully from the corner of his eye.

"And what you told me about Arthur...that was messed up, too. It broke my heart, Lee. It did. But also, you were right. Arthur did make me feel bad about myself. Made me feel dirty. All the while he was playin' behind my back. He wasn't the man or husband I thought he was. And knowing that...I feel free now. Lighter. Like I don't have to feel guilty and live up this expectation that don't exist. So I'm glad you told me really, even if it was in a terrible way".

You turned to look at him, but couldn't read his face. So you carried on.

"And I'm sorry I said those cruel things, I am. You ain't perfect but honest I didn't mean any of it. I loved the time I spent with you. You made me so happy for the first time in a long time. I don't regret any of it".

Lee nodded. "Me neither".

"And finally" you sighed, this was the hardest one to say. "I'm sorry for how I acted...with the forceful 'stuff' on the table right before our fight. And then breaking up with you right after. It was mean to drop that on you like that".

Lee chuckled. "Yeah...the dumpin' was mean. You're right about that. But honey..."

He turned to face you, his face devilish.

"...you don't ever have to say sorry for the table stuff. Never. My God. That little memory has been sustainin' me for months".

You blushed a deep red, hiding your face behind your fingers. "Lee...c'mon" you whined.

He grabbed your hand, removing it from your face and looking you in the eye.

"I ain't kidding, sweetie. That was unbelievable. I know you were mad but fuck, it was sublime...you made me come without even touching me. I'll be thinking about it on my deathbed".

You groaned, embarrassed as Lee laughed softly. Teasing you like always. You felt a pang of longing for him. For what you used to be.

"I'm sorry too" he said sombrely.

"Maybe we could start from scratch as friends?" you asked hopefully. "Wipe the slate clean. Not talk about any of this again".

Lee looked at you thoughtfully, but then he ran his tongue over his teeth and winced.

"Sorry babydoll, that's just not gonna work for me. I don't wanna be your friend" he said sadly.

You felt your stomach drop but smiled sweetly anyway, hoping he wouldn't notice how crestfallen you were. It wasn't the answer you wanted, but you knew there was always a possibility this was how it would go - too much had happened between you.

"That's okay...I understand. But I'm at least glad we got to talk it out" you said gently, your hand going for the door handle as you sat up to leave.

Lee's arm pressed firmly against your chest, pushing you back down in your seat.

"I can't let you leave here as just a friend" he said earnestly as he looked intensely into your eyes.

"Cos I love you, babydoll. More than anythin' on this earth. I love how you make me feel. I love that you're fuckin' filthy. I love that you're always surprisin' me. I love that you just tracked me down and rather than just wait you hid in the back of my cruiser for no goddamn reason. And I'm afraid I can't let you leave this car and walk outta my life again. I was stupid the first time around but I'm not stupid enough to let it happen again" he sighed. "Guess we're at an impasse cos you ain't goin' nowhere".

Your eyes filled with tears. "Oh Lee" you whispered. "I love you too".

"Well, get over here" he laughed.

You sprang across the seats up onto his lap and kissed him deeply, your hands cupping his face tightly, as if you were somehow worried he'd slip away. He snaked his thick fingers into your hair and groaned softly into your mouth as his other hand clutched at your side. It was the best kiss of your life. Everything unsaid between you was in that kiss. Each lonely night you'd missed one another was in that kiss. Every touch, every bit of love you felt for each other.

He held your waist so securely that you weren't sure you'd ever be able to get off of him. Not that you wanted to. You began to subtly shift your hips back and forth without even noticing, the muscle memory from all your history with him. You could feel his hard length pressing into your lap, nearly chuckling out loud at his consistency – Lee was always ready to go.

It all happened wordlessly, nothing needed to be said. You pushed up off of him for a moment as his hands moved underneath you to undo his belt and you moved your briefs to the side. It didn't have the usual frantic urgency like all those times before, you didn't need it. All you had was time, now. It was all calm and measured, a silent ballet of your bodies, the kiss never broken. He revealed himself from his fly and you lowered yourself gently onto him, burying him to the hilt. You both whimpered at the sensation and you began to rock slowly, finding a gentle rhythm together.

Lee broke the kiss and stroked your cheek as he gazed into your eyes. You stared back and found only love in his baby blues. For the first time, the sex between you was slow and gentle, tender and sentimental. No dirty talk, no power struggle. It was a physical representation of all that had just been declared, all you'd been through.

After a few minutes you climaxed together with your foreheads touching, both whimpering with your eyes closed, fingers clenching tightly onto each other's bodies. You sank your head against his chest, suddenly exhausted. Your mind was clear for the first time in a long time. You both sat in silence, him still inside of you. It was good to be home.

His hand found your chin and he pulled you towards him again, kissing you softly and nibbling on your lip.

You pulled away from him for a second. "If we are gonna do this you gotta stop drinking" you scolded him between kisses, gesturing to the bourbon peeking out of the glovebox.

"Mmm" he moaned softly, his lips dropping to your neck as he worked back up to your face.

"I will. But I always end up eatin' more candy when I'm sober so you might have to go to bed with a fat bastard".

"That's fine, more to love" you whispered. "You know how much I love your extra padding, Lee". You ran a finger across his soft tummy.

"Besides, maybe I can help you relieve your cravings in different ways" you winked.

He grinned back at you. "C'mon babydoll. Let's go home".

🌼 Six months later...🌼

"Does this look okay?" you asked nervously, twirling in your dress. You had two different shoes on as you weren't sure which pair to wear.

"'Course, you look great babydoll" Lee replied as he carefully put on his tie.

"Nothing fits right with this damn bump" you grumbled, looking at your gently rounded stomach in the mirror.

"Hey, that's my kid you're talkin' about" he chided lightly.

"You ready for this?" you asked as you pinned up your hair.

"Not really. I hate these damn community gala things. But it's all part of being the Sheriff. Gotta do my hand shakin' and drink buyin' now the election is done".

"Mmm. And thanking your spouse for playing the role of the dutiful little Sheriff's wife".

"Of course. But at least you don't have to play Bridge anymore".

"Don't remind me" you scroffed. "I just wish I could drink the wine tonight" you sighed.

"I'm not drinkin' either remember? Besides, the wine is always terrible at these things anyway" replied Lee.

"I'd kill for a cocktail...just three more months to go" you mumbled.

"Okay enough bellyachin'. You ready Mrs B?" Lee asked as he straightened his jacket.

You frowned. "It's still early, Lee. We don't have to leave for another forty five minutes or so".

Lee nodded. "Mmm. But I was thinking we could make a detour to our favourite dirt road. See how the cruiser feels on ya". He smirked, slapping you firmly on the behind.

"Lee!" you gasped, laughing. "We don't need to do that anymore. We're married! We have a baby on the way! We have a big comfy bed!"

"I know that" he chuckled. "But why not. For old time's sake?"

You met his gaze in the mirror, returning his wicked grin.

"Okay...you're on Mr B...But bring the cuffs..."