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xdarkhowlx · 5 months ago

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Raiju, where the hell you been, loca?

TIMING: Shortly after the cemetery incident with Van and Nora. LOCATION: Midnight Drive-In PARTIES: @xdarkhowlx and @bountyhaunter SUMMARY: Kyle and Daiyu try to enjoy their movie. They're interrupted by a real-life Pokémon. CONTENT WARNING: gun use

The mere idea of a Twilight marathon was enough to gain Kyle’s attention. The viewing being at Midnight Drive-in only piqued his interest further. An emo cinema icon, in an iconic format. What more could he ask for? Of course, he had to be parked behind the one truck to block his view. The owner of the truck sat atop the vehicle instead of inside, which put her at just the right height to obscure his view. At first, he decided not to say anything. He figured out quickly that if he leaned out his window a little, and craned his neck, he could see much better. This was fine for a while, but his favorite scene was approaching and he was beginning to get a crick in his neck. He debated just moving his car, but that seemed inconvenient at best, not to mention inconsiderate. He weighed his options briefly, before deciding he had no choice but to ask the truck owner to move.

With a drawn out sigh, Kyle stepped out of his Jeep and approached the truck parked in front of him. “Hey,” he called, trying not to interrupt the movie for anyone. “Could you maybe actually get off of your truck? I can’t really see past you, and the baseball scene is coming up.” A stranger on their truck would not ruin the scene for him.

—

Maybe it was sad, how big an accomplishment this was to Daiyu. But she’d never done something like this — a neighborhood initiative. Most of the time her ‘initiatives’ involved causing a ruckus and accidentally lighting a trash can. Besides, she never tended to tie herself to places and so to organize something like this rather than just watch the bad movies at home was something. But it had been a funny idea that had snowballed into something real and now here she was, sitting on top of her truck cross-legged. She wasn’t doing it to be rude — she just wasn’t thinking.

So when someone approached her about it and she was pulled out of her focus on the movie, she felt the urge to apologize and then, immediately after it, the inner demand that she shouldn’t. “Can’t see it well through my window, though,” she said simply, giving him a glance before looking up again. In the distance the sky rumbled. Whether it was another quake, the movie’s audio being very good or a storm coming, she didn’t know, but it barely mattered. Something tugged in her stomach and she wondered what it was – this guy, or one of the other people surrounding them. She couldn’t go a day without having something in her body go off, though, so she tried to ignore it. She was here for the movie, not for her hunting instincts. Daiyu sighed, straightening her legs and sliding down her window onto the hood of her car. The window held, much to her relief. (She had wanted to look cool and totally had.) “There. Better? Don’t wanna ruin your Supermassive Black Hole needledrop.”

—

Can’t see it well through my window, was a flimsy excuse in Kyle’s eyes. He frowned. “Better clean your windows, bestie,” he said. His ears pricked at the sound of thunder. He hoped it wouldn’t be a storm. His dad complained when he came home smelling like wet dog. On the other hand, that would make for a wicked cool backdrop for the rest of the flick.

Kyle’s smile returned at the Supermassive Black Hole comment. “Hey,” he said, raising his hands in mock defense. “You can’t tell me it’s not the most iconic scene in the first movie.” He shrugged, looking from the stranger to the screen. “Alice and Jasper in the baseball scene were a crucial part of my bisexual awakening.” Looking back to the stranger, something clicked for Kyle. “Hey, aren’t you the one who, like, organized all this?” In the distance, thunder rumbled again. Maybe that background storm would pop off after all.

—

She glared at the other and his unwarranted advice. “Clean your own windows,” she retorted, which made no sense but was still a very good comeback. Better than pointing out that she was in the forest a lot and that keeping her windows clean was a sisyphean task. She didn’t know what the word sisyphean meant, anyway.

Daiyu let out a chuckle. Even if this person had come to complain, he made a good point. “It absolutely is. Banger soundtrack, Alice being an icon, et cetera. I’m not going to lie, I know Vic is a villain and all but she was a crucial part in my gay awakening.” She shot a look at the screen, where Esme was talking to Bella. It wasn’t very important. “Hell yeah I am. I also organized the thunder, actually. Talked to the weather gods and everything to make it fit the mood.” She hadn’t, but she liked having bragging rights. As if on cue, there was a flash of lightning. Two seconds, and then a roar of thunder. “You’re welcome.”

—

Oh, so it was like that. “My windows are clean,” Kyle contested with a grand gesture at his clean, albeit cracked, windshield. “I just can’t see through people on top of trucks.” He wasn’t actually upset, mostly inconvenienced. His car didn’t have the height benefit of a truck. If he sat on top of his car, he figured he probably still wouldn’t be tall enough to see.

“You’re into gingers?” he said, sounding critical. After a moment’s pause, he nodded in approval. “Good taste.” The well timed thunder sent a shiver down Kyle’s spine. “Wow, impressive.” He gazed up at the sky, half expecting the rain to start, too. “You’ll have to show me your raindance, eh? Teach me what the weather taught you.” Glancing back at his car, Kyle started to excuse himself back to the movie, but he was drowned out by another rip of thunder. He could almost feel it in his chest. Another flash of lightning arched across the sky and connected with the ground somewhere in the distance. He could almost see where it flickered just beyond the farthest cars from where they stood. It was too close for comfort. Kyle let out a whoop. “Your storm is shaping up to be something.”

—

“Mine are clean too,” she retorted easily. She was very good at these kinds of endless exchanges, the back and forth, the yes-no, did not-did too’s of the world. Spending a youth with two older siblings did do that to a person. “Well, you should get x-ray vision, then. Next time, that is. I’m down now.”

Daiyu wondered if he’d slam her for liking the villain as he critiqued her. Logically, she should despise Victoria the most — she was the kind of vampire that required putting down by slayer or even a skilled ranger. But she’d liked her, because it was all nonsense. “Yeah,” she said, nodding fervently. “I’m known for my amazing taste, you should follow me o—” Her self promotion was cut in half as the lightning crashed through the sky again. She looked up, impressed at what the sky was capable of. “Damn.” She was a little impressed with herself before remembering she hadn’t actually caused the storm.

As her eyes traveled from the sky to the screen something caught her eye. It was lightning, but not quite in the way lightning tended to travel. It was like a ball passing past the treeline behind the screen. Another roar of thunder crashed through the sky and this time there were no flashes of light in the sky — just the creature. “Shit.” Daiyu glared at the creature, then rolled off her truck and rushed to her passenger seat door and swung it over. She eyed the other person from the other side. “Hey, yo — you should get the fuck out of here.” She pointed up. “Weather. Bad.”

___

“Then why— y’know what? Forget it. Thanks for moving.” Kyle wanted to argue back, but there was no real point to it. He could already tell he was being wound up just to end up chasing his tail. Metaphorically, of course. “I’ll work on being a little more Clark Kent and a little less Lois.”

Kyle followed the stranger’s gaze up toward the sky as the first couple notes of Supermassive Black Hole began. Shit, he was gonna miss it anyway. “Woo, good job on that timing,” he said, cracking a smile and taking a few steps back. But the mood had changed suddenly. The stranger was distracted. Her focus was elsewhere. Again, Kyle tried to figure out where she was looking. He could see that flickering lightning low at the ground again, but this time it was closer. As he was urged to leave, he didn’t look away from it. The lightning seemed to bend around something; it was vaguely animal shaped, and coming closer.

“What the hell?” he thought aloud. He looked between the electrified animal and his new acquaintance. She looked tense, maybe even a little worried. “What is that? Is that like—like a generator? A power box? Should I call the fire department? I mean, I can—“ He was cut off by another rip of thunder, with no accompanying lightning. The beast seemed to light up brighter at that and Kyle stepped around the truck to stand beside the other movie goer. “This might be outside of the fire department’s jurisdiction,” he posited.

—

Once, a long time ago, Daiyu had asked her father if she’d been named after raiju. He’d not liked the question, as it was his late wife who’d chosen their youngest name. Besides, the idea that a ranger’s name could be inspired by a beast was absolutely unacceptable, and he’d made that very clear. That hadn’t stopped her brother from calling her one, especially when she was throwing a tantrum. Storm’s coming!, he’d yell, mimicking the sound of thunder.

But whatever kinship she felt with the beasts was ignored in the face of the situation at hand. There was a storm. There were multiple people sitting in metal cars that would become death traps if touched by the raiju. There was the baseball scene still playing, too — and she couldn’t even give it her full attention. She pulled a crossbow from under the passenger seat, grabbing a set of bolts with her other hand. The human – was he human? – was talking and Daiyu popped her head up, staring at him.

She wasn’t very good at this. “Do not call them,” she said. A firetruck was an even bigger death trap. Water would make everything worse. She’d gotten electrocuted by a raiju before – years and years ago – and she didn't recommend it. “You need to – fuck!” She cursed, realizing the impossible way the cars were parked as she glanced around. Daiyu felt frustration rise, the white hot anger that so often cradled her but also sometimes rendered her useless. She could not give into it now, with all these people. (Maybe the person in the woods was right, maybe she was a protector – or wanted to be, anyway.)

She glanced at the screen, where Edward was running through the forest. The raiju seemed bothered by the noises. Dread rose. She threw a look at the other person. “We need to take it out. I need to – you should —” She was no good with words and just started to make a run for the creature, synchronizing with the Cullen’s as she left her car door open, leaving her arsenal open for the picking.

—-

Watching from across the truck, Kyle tossed his hands up defensively as the crossbow was withdrawn. “Easy, cvpon,” he said. “Maybe we should just chill out with the weapons. What are you gonna do? Shoot the electricity? Fuck’s sake.” If he wasn’t supposed to call the fire department, what was there for him to do? He glanced around at the cars surrounding them. Maybe someone had a fire extinguisher in the boot of their car. His new acquaintance cursed and he snapped his attention back to her. All he’d wanted to do was watch a classic film from the comfort of his car. Now, he was caught up in something he didn’t quite understand.

Coming to this town had been one strange experience after another. Goo, and crystals, and werewolves—now a trigger happy Twilight enthusiast going after a moving ball of electricity. Kyle opened his mouth to protest further, but before he could get much out, she was running off. “I just don’t think— wait! Wait, where are you going?” He cursed under his breath and ran around the truck to at least close the door. What he found inside wasn’t exactly expected. There were knives and ammunition of a few different calibers, as well as a hunting rifle sitting ripe for the taking. Kyle looked over his shoulder at the stranger running headlong into battle, then to the screen where Jasper and Alice whisked Bella to safety. Wouldn’t that be too easy. He glanced back at the stranger, then the rifle. “Fuck.” He grabbed the rifle, fumbled with ammunition, and took off towards the electrified mass.

“Hold up!” Kyle called. He was immediately shushed by fellow movie goers as he dashed between cars and called out again. “I’m coming with you!” He flipped the bird at a particularly upset man in a Kia. “Don’t yell at me, I’m trying to save the day, bruh!”

—-

It was good that humans didn’t know about all the shit that lurked in the shadows. Real good, as it meant they got to live life in ignorance without worrying about being eaten by werewolves or vampires or being trapped by weird grass or sand. Daiyu envied them sometimes. But right now, she thought regular humans were very annoying. None of them were seeing the ball of lightning as a threat and worse, the guy who did see her shooting into action telling her to chill.

She didn’t have the time or tact to explain the situation, which was why she just ran. She tended to hunt alone, anyway — and maybe this time it would be with an unwanted and annoyed audience, but hey. She wasn’t going to see all these cars go bzzzt with electricity and the people’s skeletons light up when they did. If that was even real. The guy was following her and at least it confirmed something: he was the cause for the tug in her stomach.

Fucking awesome. A shifter was helping her kill some beast.

“Alright, okay, cool, that’s awesome and also great!” Maybe the shifter knew something about raijus. Or maybe he was just … stupidly brave. Which Daiyu didn’t want, because those were qualities she liked in people. She ignored all the protests from viewers (even if it was very nice that people were this passionate about Twilight in 2024!) and jumped on the hood of one of the cars in front to get a good look. She whipped her head around, her ponytail smacking her in the face. “Do not get too close.” She noted the rifle – her rifle – in his hands. Well, good. As long as she got it back. “It’s gonna shock you if you do. Yeah? How’s your aim?” She whipped her head back, the cacophony of sound – movie, yelling moviegoers, storm, someone eating popcorn with their mouth open – made her dizzy but she tugged at the sound and made it one large hum of noise as she attempted to take her aim.

—

The closer they got, the more the creature took shape. Kyle figured it mostly resembled a dog, you know, if dogs went Super Saiyan. That would be a show he’d watch. Dragon Ball Z, but they’re all dogs? Focus, Kyle. He could daydream about anime when he wasn’t in imminent danger of being barbecued. He came up next to Daiyu, mouth agape as he looked at the dog. “I’m gonna have so many questions after this,” he whispered, glancing at Daiyu. He didn’t know if the dog could hear them, but if its hearing was anything like his, it definitely would.

“Don’t get too close, don’t get shocked, don’t die. Got it,” Kyle replied. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the ball of lightning, but it was getting hard to look at, like looking into the sun. He blinked hard and steadied himself. He drew the rifle and scoffed at the question. “How’s my aim? You think I would pick up a gun if I wasn't pretty confident I could use it? I’ll follow your lead.” He had hunted back in Canada with his cousins. He knew how to take down a deer, or any manner of wild fowl, and even coyotes if the situation called for it. This was probably like coyotes, if the coyotes could decimate the power grid. Simple.

After a moment, he looked at his new partner in crime—or maybe partner in justice was a better title. “I’m Kyle, by the way. I just figure we should know each other’s names in case we, y’know…” He made a cut throat gesture paired with sound effects.

——

At least the shifter was down to clown — or, like, kill a raiju. Even if he didn’t know what it was. Daiyu tried to shrug off the comment about having to explain what was going on, as that was the part of hunterisms she was worst at, but she offered a quick look and a random thumbs up. “Gotcha!” Which was not a promise or an agreement, but just something to say so she could go on with her purpose.

Which was … what, exactly? Hadn’t she decided to make her code be as simple as the local bounty board? To be moved by money, not by considerations of morality or heroism. Still — even if she wasn’t going to catch any coin for this, could she just let the people die? It wasn’t something worth pondering about. It was simple. Almost as simple as picking a random bounty from the board and going for it so she could pay her rent. These people were in death traps without knowing it. Daiyu wanted to watch her movie without people dying.

“I don’t know, people are pretty stupid when it comes to guns,” she responded, before offering her name as well: “Daiyu! You’re a —” She changed her mind halfway, deciding it better to not ask what kind of shifter the other is. “Not going to die.” She swished her head towards the raiju, squinting one eye close and taking aim. Soon enough her finger pushed the trigger and her bolt shot towards the lightning creature, piercing its hind thigh.

—

Kyle was satisfied with the thumbs up as a clear promise to fill him in if neither of them died. He was pretty sure that the stranger–Daiyu, as she identified herself–knew what she was doing. Otherwise she was doing a damn fine job pretending. The thought gave him a moment’s pause. Was she pretending? Was Kyle about to be on the bad side of killing a creature like him? The thing didn’t seem to have any sense of rationality, as it was actively walking into a minefield of sitting duck humans. But then, Kyle couldn’t call himself rational when he shifted. He had never taken issue with hunting before. Each animal gave its life for the greater picture. That was simple. It was nature. But where did he, a werewolf, fit into the greater picture? It was never something he’d considered.

As the creature’s leg was struck, a shower of sparks burst around it. He flinched, abandoning the existential crisis for later. It would keep him up every night this week, but it wasn’t important now. The sparks and crackles from the beast reminded Kyle of a transformer exploding. Like live wires, the beast writhed in pain for a moment. In that same moment, the storm above them roared some of the loudest thunder he had ever heard. It left his ears ringing. Werewolf hearing be damned. The creature recovered itself, and charged in their direction. Beginning to back up, the rifle snapped up as Kyle reflexively took aim. “Aim where they’re going, not where they’ve been,” he murmured to himself, and lined up his shot. A crack rang out, and another shower of sparks rained down around the animal, halting its approach. He breathed a steadying sigh, and smirked at his new accomplice. “Nice to meet you, Daiyu.”

—

Frustration rippled through her, a familiar yet always unpleasant sensation, as her bolt did not pierce the creature through the heart or head but rather its legs. It was fine, she could have just used the immobility to fire another shot. But there was an audience, kind of. There was a hunting partner, which was really not her speed. And the hunting partner – Kyle, the shapeshifter – had a gun and that guy managed to get the killing shot in. The sparks were a welcome distraction, though, a large rain of them sprinkling around the screen. And then, it was done. No more sparks, no more rumbling thunder that came from the creature — just a still corpse.

Daiyu was still for a moment, disregarding Kyle the shifter and staring at the dead body before sliding down the hood of the strangers’ car. She patted it awkwardly before approaching the beast. If she was a hunter with a code to protect humans and keep them ignorant – which she wasn’t – she should get rid of the body. She gave a something to Kyle, though she wasn’t entirely sure what it was. A scowl, a grin, a smirk. “Yeah, man, that was a great shot. Nice to meet you.” He got the killing shot. He had her gun. And she’d … really made a mess of whatever it was she’d tried to do here. She extended a grabby hand. “Can I get that back?” The rifle, she meant. “So you … whatever. I’m gonna clean up.”

—-

He followed Daiyu to the dead beast, approaching it cautiously. It was certainly dead, but Kyle wasn’t sure if it still held a charge. “Sorry to steal your shine,” he said, passing the rifle back as asked. He couldn’t tell exactly what emotion she was feeling, but he got the impression that it was directly linked to the final blow. “My family is big on hunting. I’ve been going on hunting trips practically since before I could walk. I know my way around a rifle.” Maybe his experience would assuage whatever emotions were going through her head. He wasn’t some inexperienced punk rolling in off the street. He was a well-versed punk.

Looking over the body, Kyle grimaced. Up close it looked even more like just some unfortunate dog. Again, that guilt he’d never felt before tugged at his stomach. Was he so much different than this dog? “Okay,” he said, turning his attention on Daiyu. “Now is the part where you answer my questions. Like what the fuck just happened? Do you do this often?” Having just handed the rifle over into her hands, he shook his head. “Scratch that last one, I don’t need to know. How did you know what that was?”

—-

She wanted to burst out laughing at the notion. Not that Kyle the shifter was apologizing for stealing her shine, as that was very bothersome because she felt very seen, but that he said that his family was big on hunting. Daiyu wondered what that meant, but didn’t want to pry. She didn’t recognize the other and that meant she hadn’t seen him on the board, which meant there was no good reason to pry. “Oh, awesome. Yeah, my family’s like that I guess too, you know? Hunting elk and pheasants and stuff.”

She took the gun back from him. It was getting harder and harder to ignore all the sounds around them so she trudged forward towards the dead creature. It looked almost like something normal, but she knew better than to just leave it there. “Well,” she said, “We just killed a lightning creature. That could have made all these cars go –” She made a crackling sound with her mouth, followed by a booom. “Oh, I just know. You know? Some people know how to do math. I know how about weird shit.” Like how the other person was a shifter. “Like you and anyone else in this town doesn’t.” She slung the rifle over her shoulder after flicking the safety on and then crouched down at the raiju. “We should get it away from here.”

—-

“Yeah, elk, deer–hell, squirrels if you can get ‘em.” Kyle nodded in agreement, bonding over their shared hunting skill. He wanted to tell her to not let her nerves get to her next time, genuinely wanting to be of assistance. But something told him that would not be received as intended, and he was okay letting it drop. “I used to go out with the uncles, and then my cousins when we were old enough. Family traditions and whatever.” He waved his train of thought away with his hand. This was a stranger, and she didn’t need the specifics of his upbringing. Especially when he had more questions.

He looked from the carcass to the cars, nodding slowly. As he’d pictured in his head, it would be absolute chaos, carnage, and bloodshed. “Good thing you were here, then,” Kyle affirmed. “I might know how to use a gun, but you provided it for me. Which brings me to another question; why are you driving around strapped like that? You get in trouble a lot?” It was another question he didn’t really want the answer to. He was connecting some dots, and the image he was piecing together unsettled him. What if she killed all sorts of creatures? What if she found out he was a werewolf? Would she kill him, too? Or did he need to present himself as a threat first? Those questions he left unsaid.

Kyle wanted to protest to her that he knew more than he let on. But to do so was a tricky needle to thread, so he simply nodded. “I’m learning.” It was the truth. He’d learned about werebears, and maybe cemetery spirits. He’d heard talk of vampires and zombies, though he hadn’t ascertained if those were real or not. Now, he was learning about real life Pokémon. Kyle crouched beside her, looking down at the sad little coyote. It was much less threatening when it wasn’t actively sparking. “You need help carrying Jolteon here?”

—

Hunters were traditionally meant to keep humans safe and separate from the supernatural world, but the Volkovs had lost that traditional and honorable cause a long time ago. A higher purpose was so easily translated into something uglier — like the divine right of kings, for example. So Daiyu didn’t do this often and Daiyu didn’t fucking know what to do. Especially because this guy wasn’t human, or at least not fully, or not all the time. So what did it mean when he said he hunted with his family? Were they a bunch of sirens, chasing prey, or bugbears? Or did they hold up human traditions despite being something else? Or was he unfortunately cursed with a werewolf’s bite?

The thoughts were dizzying. “Yeah, same here. Hunting trips with the fam, what a time,” she said off-handedly. Daiyu glanced at Kyle, then back at the raiju. It would be little issue to carry it, with her hunter strength. Should she still be trying not to come off as a ranger, though? Or was that too little too late? She chewed on her cheek as his question bounced around her head. “Nah, I usually am the trouble.” Cheekiness seemed like a safe bet. “But yeah, whatever, I’m just someone who’s prepared for these kinds of things. I try to be more subtle about it usually, though.”

She took the hind legs of the creature, gesturing that he could take the other. A laugh left her lips at the mention of Jolteon. “Fuck.” She huffed. “That’s good. That’s — yeah, Jolteon, that’s right on the god damn nose. Let’s just take –” Her eyes scanned their surroundings, the angry people in their cars. It’d be best to store the creature in her car until she could find a proper way to dispose of it, but to walk it past all those moviegoers was asking for trouble. “Into the woods. Hide it for now.”

—

The mention of her own hunting trips brought forth yet another question that Kyle couldn’t keep from tumbling out of his mouth. “When you say hunting, you mean the elk and not these—,” he looked down at the corpse, but without a real word for it, continued unsure. “These…monsters, right? That’s what this is, a monster?” Yet another question he didn’t want the answer to, but this time the need for it pressed him on. “You know, since you’re so prepared for anything.” He gestured with his chin to the rifle she now held.

Kyle shouldn’t be prying, not here in the middle of a movie, not with Kristen Stewart monologuing in the background. But hunters were a fairly novel idea. He hadn’t thought they were real, just more fairytale fodder. Like werewolves. It felt stupid to admit to himself that he hadn’t once worried about being hunted down for the crime of being bitten. The very idea made the hairs on the back of his neck raise. It wasn’t something he’d had to consider. The apartment he lived in was above a cryptid-themed souvenir shop, which, conveniently, had a basement for mostly storage of old junk, tools, and broken mannequins. The basement did a pretty good job of holding a bloodthirsty werewolf, and his dad being the building’s super was just the cherry on top of his cover story.

Kyle tried to keep his tone and his expression neutral. He didn’t want the skepticism of being predator and prey to cross his face and give him away as he danced carefully around the topic. “Sorry, Jolteon,” he said, trying to break some of the tension as he took the front legs of the animal and hoisted it with Daiyu. “Can’t catch ‘em all.”

——

She stared at him, at his clumsy way of speaking, at the way he hesitated to name the raiju anything. Beast, monster, creature, pest, prey. So what was she supposed to say? That she hunted elk? She didn’t, she hated hunting regular animals. She found it — well, she didn’t try to pass judgment, as that started a whole moral debate in her head, but she found it something. “I mean, this is just a coyote with sparks,” she quipped. Daiyu lifted the creature up, wanting to tell the other to fuck off, but here she was. Doing teamwork again. With a shifter, again.

She could feel it rise within her, the clumsiness. Her father hated this about her, the way she had no control over the things that came from her mouth. Not just because she was vulgar, but because she was too forward. Daiyu tried to press her lips together, to keep her from blurting something out, “But yes, a monster. I hunt monsters. What are you?” Her eyes slanted upwards and she cursed herself inside her head – something she did very commonly – before starting to move. She didn’t owe the other secrecy, because he wasn’t human, but she did owe herself secrecy, didn’t she? But it had to be clear by now what she was.

The pokémon references didn’t help. It made the other too damn likable. Daiyu kept trudging into the woods, the raiju swinging between them. (If pokémon were real, would she be hunting them? That would be really fucked up.) She grit her teeth and managed to not reply this time, for which she still cursed herself.

—

More questions pressed to the front of Kyle’s mind. Why was she so hesitant to confirm his suspicions that this Pokémon-from-Hell was a part of the weird shit? He knew it was supposed to be left unsaid, (he had heard enough from his grandmother,) but they had clearly passed that point when they took it down. A coyote with sparks didn’t satiate the need to understand what he’d just witnessed. His thoughts were beginning to race as his mouth tried to form multiple questions at a time. How much of the oddities of Wicked’s Rest had she known? Would she have answers about werebears, too? Shit, did she know more about werewolves than Kyle? He thought of those questions as off of the table. Surely he couldn’t just ask–

What are you? The question hit him like a crossbow bolt of lightning between the eyes. Every hair on his body stood at attention. “Um.” He floundered for a moment, grasping for any words to respond. He almost tripped over his own feet and dropped the stupid–monster. If this dog was a monster, was that what Daiyu was looking for? For Kyle to admit to being a monster? Was that what he was to her? His stomach felt like a stone falling through him. “Could you be more specific with that, uh, question? Please?”

—

Her hunting training hadn’t covered this. Truth be told, her training hadn’t covered a lot of communication techniques, unless you considered the best ways to trick shifters or interrogation tactics as such. Daiyu felt frustration fly through her system, heard Vissa yell something about a storm coming as her face turned a little stormy. There was at least the creature between them, a good distraction from how the other fumbled with his reply to her forward question.

“Whatever,” she said, “I’m not gonna hunt you.” He wasn’t on the board. Besides, he’d helped. Her sister would talk this guy into the woods and prod and poke until he’d reveal his true nature and then slit his throat, to trick the shifter the way she’d been taught. But Daiyu didn’t want to hunt this guy, and it was only because he wasn’t on the board. No ulterior motive. It wasn’t because of the weeping heart in her chest that her sister Inna had chastised all her life. Just because there was no point in it. (The Raiju hadn’t been on the board, either, but somehow that distinction wasn’t made.) “But like … snake? Wolf? Bird? What are you?”

—

I’m not gonna hunt you, was all the confirmation Kyle needed. He was on the menu, so to speak. Maybe not to Daiyu, maybe not now, but to someone out there. It took him a beat to grapple with his new place on the proverbial food chain before he could get anything out. “Wait,” he said, immediately derailing once more. “There’s weresnakes and werebirds? I mean, fuck, it makes sense, you know, I’ve heard about the little people all my life, but I oonly knew about the bears and the wolves.” There were dozens of questions he had about the other shifters. Like, did the birds follow the same rules? Were they bound to the sun rather than the moon? Could you get bit by a snake and get turned into a snake? Even if the snake was venomous? Was it like Spider-Man, and the venom is what turned you into the snake? He set aside the questions for later (and maybe for Google).

Licking his lips and shrugging, Kyle replied, “I guess I’m the wolf variety.” He clicked his teeth and continued, “Shtah, I feel stupid being at a fuckin’ Twilight viewing and admitting this, man.”

—

Oh, shit. This was not the first time her big mouth had talked too fast and too much. Daiyu assumed that shifters all knew about each other, that they had some kind of big shifter text chain where they talked about eating humans and shedding issues, but maybe werewolves were excluded from that. “Yeah! Those totally exist too,” she said, nodding. It would be strange if lamia and sirens only transformed during the full moon, but probably better for society and humanity as a whole.

She let out a huff of amusement, looking over her shoulder at the drive in behind them as she kept walking further into the woods. “Nah, it’s cool. It’s fun. I like these movies ‘cus of it.” There was something about watching bad movies about the supernatural that made Daiyu feel comforted. It was why she’d watched all of the Vampire Diaries multiple times — but mostly just the first three seasons. “Little bit stupid for telling me though.” She dropped the raiju to the ground. “Kidding.”

—-

Fueled with knowledge, Kyle couldn’t keep his mouth from running. “You probably have so much knowledge on all this stuff, right? I mean, probably more than me. Definitely more than me.” That felt like a mistake to admit as soon as he’d said it. He didn’t want to come off as inexperienced or ignorant. Worse yet, he didn’t want to come off as a problem. “There’s no real guidebook for all of this. Lot of trial and error and error and error,” he amended with a toothy grin. “It’s,” he gestured vaguely to the space around them, “all about learning and shit, though, right?” Maybe that didn’t help his case, but he’d rather be somewhat honest with the hunter. She had given him her word. She wouldn’t hunt him.

“As far as werewolves go, it’s bad,” Kyle mused. He had a lot to say on the topic, but kept it succinct for now. His head snapped up at the joke threat, but he relaxed when he realized she wasn’t serious. Cracking a grin, he huffed a laugh. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t have much experience with, uh, hunters. That’s what you’d call yourself, right?” He looked down at the animal at their feet. He almost wanted to ask what Daiyu planned to do with the pelt, but it didn’t seem particularly germane, given the circumstances.

—-

If there was any way to appeal to Daiyu, it was by saying that she was better at something than someone else. And though this wasn’t something she was particularly proud of, it was still true. She was more knowledgeable than this stranger, “Yup! I know a lot. I’m pretty much a genius when it comes to this.” Compared to him, she certainly was. Compared to other hunters, especially her siblings … well, it wasn’t knowledge she’d ever excelled in. Reciting species’ weaknesses had always been something that tired her — she’d rather find out through just hitting them. “Guess you’re gonna have to find shit out, huh?”

It had to be hard to be a werewolf. At least most other shifters were raised amongst one another, were taught what they were and how they could use that against others. But bitten werewolves, they were just left to their own shitty devices. “Twilight’s a shit resource for sure. And um, yeah, yeah, hunters — maybe that’s coolest for you, right? Just stay outta trouble. Don’t eat people or whatever.” She considered their surroundings, the dead animal at their feet, and started to gather some twigs, sticks and leaves to cover up its white fur. “This one’s called a Raiju, FYI.”

—-

The urge to ask for more and more information wouldn’t die down inside Kyle. He didn’t want to come off as entirely ignorant, but the hunter said she was a genius when it came to this particular subject. “Alright, Encyclopedia Daiyu, I’ll have to have you teach me more about all this sometime,” he said, hoping she’d agree so he could flood her inbox later. “I think I have a lot to learn.” The admission felt like one of weakness rather than simple ignorance. The feeling didn’t sit well inside his chest. Exposing your belly to the enemy couldn’t be a smart move. He had to remind himself that she had said she wouldn’t hunt him.

The comment about eating people had Kyle grimacing. He had shifted a handful of times outside the safety of his building’s basement walls, but he hadn’t eaten anyone. Had he? The thought made his stomach do a somersault. “I’m good on the not eating people.” He followed the hunter’s lead, covering the animal’s corpse with forest detritus. “Raiju. Ha, kinda rhymes with your name.” He didn’t want to make another Pokémon reference, lest she think of him as a nerd. But there was a Pokémon based on the creature before them. “Real life Pokémon,” he quipped, unable to keep his mouth shut.

—

The concept of her – a ranger – helping a werewolf was absolutely beyond her comprehension. The whole situation was hard to grasp in general, what with her hunting this creature out of some kind of feeling of duty, enlisting a shifter for help and standing here, still and without action. Daiyu swallowed, shrugged, “Whatever, man,” she said, which was non-committal and not an answer at all to his non-question. She didn’t deal with unshifted werewolves a lot — the most she saw of them was when they were feral and wild in the woods.

She felt something press in her skull. A headache. A moral quandary that she didn’t have the tools to solve. These days those were the same. “Neat. I mean, that’s kinda … not cool, you know. Guess that’s gonna get you … targeted. Anyway.” She frowned at the twigs and leaves. “Maybe. I’m not a good — I don’t help people.” She poured some sand over the dead creature, let out a huff of air. “Yeah, it does. And yeah, it is. I used to wonder if the creator of Pokémon like, knew of these kinda creatures.” She started wiping her hands on her trousers, looking up. “Good enough, I guess. There’s still … movie left.” She’d get the creature a proper hiding place later. She held out her hand, though didn’t specify if it was to get her weapons back or to have it shaken.

—

Kyle got the feeling that maybe he’d overstepped some invisible line he hadn’t known was there. Maybe befriending a hunter was reckless, even when she didn’t feel like a threat. At least, she hadn’t felt like a threat. Her deflection read as dismissive to Kyle. Perhaps he didn’t view her as a threat because she didn’t view him as a threat. Something unfamiliar tugged inside his gut. He wanted to be respected by her, not brushed aside. Part of him wanted the hunter to fear him. The thought felt almost out of place as soon as he’d thought it, but wasn’t it sort of true? Wasn’t he a beast to be feared? He huffed a chuckle to himself. That didn’t feel like it fit right, either. Better, but not exactly. “Yeah,” he said, after considering Daiyu’s words for a moment. “I’ll do my, uh, best, I guess.” He met her extended hand with his own, both passing her back the ammunition she’d lent, and shaking her hand at the same time. “For the record, I don’t help people either. One time Pokémon battle.” He turned back towards the screen, frowning at the movie. It didn’t feel worth it to stay. It didn’t feel worth it to leave either. He looked back to his new not-enemy. “Walk you back to your truck?”

—

There should be another bolt in her crossbow, aimed at the heart of the untransformed werewolf. This could be her easiest hunt of the year. But that wasn’t her hunter’s code — if she even had one. Hunting the raiju also wasn’t part of her code, but maybe saving a bunch of people who are watching Twilight could be something she added. As for Kyle the Werewolf, there was nothing that demanded she hunt him besides the nagging lessons taught in youth. There was no immediate threat, nor was there a bounty on his head as far as she knew. So Daiyu simply shook his hand and took her weapon back and tried not to think about it all too much.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she said, starting the walk back to her truck with one weapon in each hand, wondering if someone had called the authorities. Hopefully the sounds of thunder and Supermassive Black Hole had covered the sounds of the gunshot, though. “Was a good one, though. Good Pokémon battle. No fried people and shit.” She gave Kyle a look, a semi-grin. It wasn’t so bad, what they’d done. “Edward would be proud.”

—

There was still some kind of unease that sat alert at the back of Kyle’s mind. On one hand, Daiyu had promised not to hunt him. On the other, she was a total stranger who had just played a hand in taking out a creature. Was he feeling conflicted about hunting the creature? He hadn’t long considered his new role in nature. Were he and the raiju equals? Had he too implicitly trusted this gun wielding Twilight-goer? He would have to sit with the topic later. He thought the hunter might combust if he started grilling her about her moral compass, and he didn’t want to put out any fires tonight either.

Kyle scoffed. “You think I care about Edward’s opinion? He would be a normal type trainer in the most boring way. He would have a team of fuckin’ pidgey and–y’know, never mind.” His face wrinkled in disgust. “Point being, I’m not ‘Team Edward,’” he concluded, with air quotes accenting his words. He crossed his arms across his chest as they reached the truck. Goodbyes felt awkward, especially given the circumstance of their meeting. “Hey, thanks for being cool,” he said flatly, with an air of hesitation. “I mean, letting me make you look like a chump with a bow.” He cracked a teasing grin and gave her finger guns. “You’ll get ‘em next time, bro.”

—

Once arrived at the truck, Daiyu worked on returning her weapons to it, making sure they wouldn’t go off if she went too hard over a speed bump (a common occurrence). A small laugh left her lips at the other’s response to her throwaway comment and she looked up with a quirked eyebrow. “Team Jacob, then? I think you’re biased.” She shrugged, straightened up and closed the door. “I mean, I’m totally team Alice, for what it’s worth. And she’d be totally proud too.” She would probably hate Daiyu for what she was, but luckily she wasn’t real.

She nodded at his comment, head bopping at his thanks. There were no guides for situations like these and Daiyu wished there were, and that they were shared at hunter camps. Guidelines for social interactions where you accidentally roped in a shifter into a hunt and didn’t kill them, or whatever. “Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. Totally let you win, for the record.” She hadn’t, and it was annoying — because even though she was certain she would have been able to kill the raiju if it had been just her, she hadn’t killed it this time. “I sure will. Er – enjoy the rest of the movie. Won’t get in your way again or whatever.” She raised her hand in goodbye, ready to continue to watch the rest of the movie in escapist solitude.

#ch: raiju where the hell you been loca #ch: daiyu #chatzy

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imunbreakabledude · 2 months ago

Note

Regarding Pattison not happening, I actually think there's a good chance we're right that it wasn't Valerie Armstrong's choice. I saw an interview with her (wish I could find the link) where she alludes to choices she would have made differently. She also seems to regret AMC, saying it wasn't accessible to enough people; it turns out they picked her script out of the blue and wanted to make the show. Otherwise I imagine she would have gone somewhere else and we would have gotten Pattison.

first off, I just have to say, what a funny feeling it is to me, to get an ask about pattison in the year 2024. nothing bad, just, like, for context, if you don't know this about me... I was a fan of KCFH from the literal beginning, heard about it shortly before it started airing and liked the concept, watched every episode as it aired (which is pretty unique for me, i rarely get into a fandom From the Start like that), and I was a big champion of it, spreading the word, because I looooooved season 1. i got a lot of people (relatively speaking) into the show and ran a memes account on twitter... I was a #pattison truther the whole time. and so i was wicked hyped for season 2, had a good time with it even if it was a bit short of my expectations even before the finale, but the finale really just pissed me off because I felt like, wow, I loved this show so much and was really hoping at least, it would give me one piece of vindication from a middling season 2. so I have barely thought/posted about the show since that period right after the finale, because it disappointed me more than any other show, maybe, ever has. (that doesn't mean it was the WORST finale i've ever seen, far from it, but it disappointed me the most because I cared so much about the show, and also because so much of it felt like it just fell short of being so much better.)

ANYWAYS... if you do find the link to the interview you're talking about let me know. no pressure but it intrigues me. I haven't read a single interview with Valerie (or anyone else who worked on the show) since the immediate aftermath of the finale, since that interview where Valerie said it was the right choice to not go for pattison and how they were "romantically alone but fine" (ugh). so if she hypothetically has gone on the record with a different sentiment about it, not defending it, then i'm interested.

because. i recognize most of this is parasocial and just my desire to believe that I did see some Pattison Truth and wasn't dumb to believe it the whole time, so I need to believe in a Person who represents that Truth and wanted it to happen while other forces prevented it, and Valerie is a convenient person to imagine in that role both as the creator of the show & a bisexual woman who spoke openly about the queer parts of the story she was telling. I recognize that I will probably never know for sure what happened behind the scenes and to what degree pattison endgame was ever on the table or not. But i do feel the urge to believe it is true. so if there's evidence that supports it, lol, i'm interested. (for the record, if there's evidence that WEAKENS this theory i'm also interested in that. lol) i just do not have it in me to go looking for it, because, as I said, I gave so much of my head & heart to this show and it felt so bad after the finale that I just cannot go down the road of spending conscious waking hours thinking about it again, because it just makes me sad.

#kcfh #ask #anonymous #listen i need to prepare myself for if i ever meet val one day.#first off to act normal #second off to find a natural not-loaded way of asking if she will share What the Hell Happened with pattison #cuz i have heard Some Things. about what went down...#but. yknow. hearsay.#its tough to piece together what may or may not have happened from cast & crew who have spoken on the matter...#and those who have NOT spoken...#fwiw i really doubt it was AMC standing in the way of hypothetical pattison endgame.#AMC is not exactly known for being queerphobic i mean. look at some of their other stuff...#orphan black. killing eve. interview w the vampire. orphan black echoes. probably more thats just from the top of my head #i really really doubt AMC was an issue with that. i think its more likely IF there were obstacles to it then they were probably the opinion #of people working on KCFH itself #also this is besides the point but like #i really doubt she had other networks bidding to make this show #no shade to the show bc i LOVE IT #and the pilot she wrote was AWESOME #but it's a hard sell!#and val being a first time show creator with only a few seasons in a writers room... i would GUESS AMC may have been the first/only offer.#but who knows. maybe her agents are incredible.#maybe there WERE other bids.#either way she achieved the literal fucking dream as a TV writer #selling a cool original pilot you're passionate about and getting to make it + be in the room (even if not as showrunner)#that is something to be super proud of no matter what.#but also in my Parasocial vision™ of her i feel so bad if the real show fell short of her Dreams of Pattison Endgame #so bittersweet (for this fantasy version of a real woman that i've made up in my head)

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billthedrake · 2 years ago

Text

BIG DADDY (PART SIX)

(This is a story is a little departure from my normal, with bisexual content.)

I treaded water in the pool and watched my sister in law ease into the water.

The fucked up thing about Texas weather is that vacations were never at times I thought of as normal vacation. Up north, I'd spent my summers at the Shore. But the Bryants tended to work during the summer and shut down the office in April for a big family vacation. Mr. and Mrs. Bryant rented a big sprawling house in South Padre Island. I'd say Cheryl and I were invited, but it was actually assumed we'd be going.

The only downside was that Cheryl and the Bryant women were in fucking planning mode for a month leading up to it. It was like that with them. Needing everything to be perfect. Courtney's baby shower, Cheryl's and my wedding. And now two weeks vacation: activities, meals, what to wear, a photographer for the annual family photo. Jesus. I mean, I guess I was glad they were taking care of some things, but I missed my family's low key approach to vacation. Load up the car, grill out burgers every night, be lazy.

That's why I was enjoying this quiet time. It was late afternoon. Mrs. Bryant was watching after Little Mike, giving the parents another needed break. Cheryl and her dad had stayed at the beach longer, Cheryl pretending to be engrossed in a book, but I knew they were now off fucking somewhere. Dan volunteered to make dinner - steaks and salad.

That left me to flirt with his wife.

"You're looking great, Courtney," I said as I eyed up her form. Probably not an appropriate thing to say but it was a sincere compliment. And everyone in Texas seemed to say inappropriately sexual things under the guise that it was "harmless flirting." That practice was rubbing off on me.

After all, Dan's wife was smoking hot. She'd been a cheerleader at the college where Dan played football. Yeah, total cliche. Courtney was sweet, shorter than Cheryl and even more feminine. Total southern sorority girl with auburn brown hair and soulful brown eyes and a homecoming queen smile plastered on all that time. No matter where she was she seemed to stand in a way that pushed her tits out.

Courtney Bryant had a hell of a pair of tits on her. Motherhood had made those hooters swell up, and the one piece she had on looked like it would bust any second.

"Thanks, Nick," she smiled. "I'm still trying to lose the baby weight, but that's sweet of you to say."

I treaded closer to her. "I'm not bullshiting, Court... I'm surprised you're not in a two-piece." She blushed, but I was on the verge of going to far. "I bet Dan really appreciates what you got going on." Bringing it back to her husband.

"Maybe," she said, flirting back with her eyes.

It wasn't the Jersey Shore, but the Gulf was growing on me. The pool, the tricked-out rental house, another step in being part of the Bryant family.

I was about up the wall in horniness, too. Not having work to distract me, and being around three people I'd had sex with and another I wanted to fuck was driving me insane.

I'd sucked Big Daddy's cock that first night, right in the front seat of his SUV when we went on an errand to pick up more ice. And Cheryl and I had found some private time. I'd even tasted Mark on her one afternoon while I licked her cunt.

But it wasn't enough. That's why I was flirting with Courtney more than was right. Harmless, my ass.

She wasn't biting, not yet, but I could tell she was interested. Probably the same way she was interested in Mark. I wondered if all cheerleaders were sluts, then a wicked part of me guessed Mark Bryant would only approve of a certain type of woman for Dan. Courtney was that kind of woman.

A slut.

I was warming her up. My dick wasn't hard but it was chubbed under the water as she began letting her guard down and as her eye contact grew heavier.

"Nick!" It was Dan, who'd stepped out to the pool area. "Think you could give me a hand, buddy? I think the propane needs changing on the grill."

I gave a wink to Courtney. "Sorry to leave you on your lonesome, miss," I joked. "Your husband needs me.

Courtney just flashed me her sorority smile and cooed, "You know where to find me." A joke, but not.

I swam to the ladder and climbed out, dripping on the concrete and thankful for April Gulf shores sun.

As I went around the deck, I saw Dan crouched down, fiddling with the feed hose. He was shirtless and wearing medium-length trunks. His body was meaty and the tan showed off his latest gym gains well. He looked up at me, laughing with an apologetic tone. "I've never actually changed one of these before," he admitted.

I laughed and patted his bare back as I squatted next to him. I loved feeling the warmth of him next next to me and that chlorine, suntan lotion smell. "Leave it to the grill master," I boasted. I undid the hose. "Hold the tank," I instructed and in short order we pulled that one off and put the replacement in its place.

I'd screwed on the hose, the last part, when I saw Dan's eyes looking at me. That look again.

"I need it, Nick," he said softly. "You told me to tell you." God he acted like a kid sometimes.

I rubbed his strong lats in a soothing back and forth motion. "I got ya, man. Go up to my room, and I'll meet you there in a couple."

He nodded, excited and embarrassed. "Thanks, man. I tried to hold off, but... I just need it."

"Go on," I encouraged in a whisper.

I was rock hard in my trunks now as I took one more look of that Texas beef walking inside. I peeped around and saw Courtney lying on a float in the pool, almost napping, those tits poking up obscenely. If I didn't get to those breasts, I thought, no way Big Daddy wouldn't get his hands on those. Fuck.

I then went to the other side to make sure Mark's SUV wasn't there. Coast clear.

Then I went indoors, into the air conditioning. I could hear Mrs. Bryant playing with Little Mike in the next room. I tiptoed in, but even if she heard me everything seemed normal. I was just coming in for a bit. Maybe to take a nap.

I opened the room door enough to slip in and shut it behind me. Already Mark was on the bed, naked and rock hard. His tanned muscle looked magnificent displayed for me, his beefy arm up behind his head, the dirty blond arm pit hair a contrast to the white spot where his pit hadn't seen much sun.

I unlaced my trunks, feeling hard as a rock. "You did right, bro," I assured him. "Coming to me like that."

This was the first time we'd actually done anything since that fateful Thursday after the gym. Dan seemed relieved by my words. "I wasn't sure Nick.... I just get so horny." Already he was spreading his legs in invitation.

I walked around the bed and found the lube. I didn't normally have to use it but Cheryl had been letting me do her ass more lately. I unplopped the cap and squirted a good deal on my hardon.

Dan watched, pure excitement on his face. "You got an amazing body, Nick," he said softly as I got onto the bed with him. "An amazing dick, too."

I smiled, but that was my only acknowledgment of his compliment. I lifted his legs, parting them as I raised them.

"Not gonna be much foreplay today, kid." Dan was three years older than me, so I didn't know why I called him kid. Just felt right.

He nodded. "It's OK..." then, "I'm your cunt."

"Fuck, Dan," I grunted, in a tone that told him those words turned me on. With a bit of "where's your fucking self respect" thrown in there. I pushed my dick against his hot pucker. He'd greased up with something already. Crisco. Vaseline. Something. It was gonna be a slick fuck. I pressed in.

Maybe Dan was just worked up. Jonesing for a fix like a true junkie. But his hole opened up a hell of a lot easier this time. It took me ten seconds to work him open and bottom out.

I leaned down and kissed him. A sexual kiss, but loving too. I liked the dumb lug, a lot. "Your Nick's got you, bro," I announced. Then I started fucking the shit out of him.

He let out an involuntary cry, so I clamped a hand on his slut mouth. But his eyes went wide and told me the whole story. Dan Byrant, Golden Boy, big rack of Texas football beef, fucking loved this.

I wasn't even trying to go all alpha on his ass. I just knew we didn't have a lot of time to play with, and I knew I needed to get my nut without too much buildup.

But seeing and feeling his sexual thrill, I really went for it. Tearing into his hole. Rapid jackrabbit thrusts that hammered his prostate.

Dan Bryant fucking came, hands free, spurting his hot, built up seed between our built, warm bodies.

I was five seconds behind him. The idea I'd made him cum tripped my wires. That and his clenching guts practically milking my boner. I was beyond comparing load sizes, but Dan was getting one of my better ones.

I smiled, feeling the post-sex endorphins kick in, and removed my hand from his mouth.

"Whoa," Dan hissed, keeping quiet.

"Yeah, that was hot," I admitted. I caressed the guy's cheek, like a lover, then slowly pulled out of him.

I smiled as I watched that cum ooze right out Dan's fucked-open hole, as the poor guy tried to clench it shut.

He laughed, now, I guess feeling he had no other response than to laugh at how slutty he looked.

"You need me to clean you off, Nick?" he asked.

I thought for a minute he was offering to get me a rag or something. But it sunk in. "Yeah," I replied and was gratified to see my bro-in-law get on his knees and start licking my spent cock clean. While I massaged his hair lovingly.

I finally had to pull him off. "Enough buddy. We gotta get back down."

"Yeah," he acknowledged. He went to find his trunks and pull them on. "Um... thanks, Nick. You're the best, bro."

I stepped up to him and grabbed some of that meaty delt muscle, squeezing it affectionately. "You're keeping it in the family, bro. Right?"

He nodded, like an admonished child. "Oh yeah, promise, Nick. I swear."

"Good man," I said with a final pat on his shoulder. "Now go get a start on dinner," I said with a wink. "I'm fucking starving."

***

Dan was in a fantastic mood the rest of that trip. Maybe I was, too. We kept up our morning runs and bodyweight workouts to stay in shape. We tossed football and played volleyball on the beach. I taught him how to man a fucking grill and how not to overcook a hamburger.

And yeah, we had another session, making out deep before I had him get down and service my cock. I'd been working a lot at R.C. Pool Supply... Mark wasn't lying about getting his money's worth from me. This vacation gave me a chance to unload, in every way.

"Damn, that's incredible, brother," I said, running my fingers through the back of Dan's head as he nursed the dribbles of my cock. We were in the front seat of Dan's SUV, parked in a deserted lot. It was so much like my first night sucking Big Daddy. My dick wasn't going down now. Fuck, I needed to get laid more.

The Golden Boy finally pulled off. Even at 30, he was youthful and real good looking. The exercise regiment had taken off some of that excess padding, and no two ways about it, Dan Bryant was fuckable as hell.

And proud. "You liked that, Nick?" he asked eagerly.

I gave a soft growl. "You know damn well I did. Came like a motherfucker..."

"I'm glad," he said. I could tell he had a hardon in his shorts. Maybe he'd get off later. "So, Nick," he asked. "Can I ask you for some advice?"

I pulled up my shorts and nodded. "Yeah, buddy, what is it?"

He seemed embarrassed to say what was on his mind. "Maybe you know this, I don't know... but Daddy kind of handles all my finances. You know, mine and Courtney's."

"I didn't know that, bud," I said. It wasn't a surprise though.

Dan blushed. I could tell this was hard for him. "Well, I wanna take more responsibility for things, but I'm wondering if, like, you could help me out, Nick.... I know you're real good at business and numbers and stuff."

"I'd be glad to, Dan," I assured him.

He seemed relieved. "God, I feel so dumb."

Dan was dumb. But he was there for me, and I was gonna be there for him. I patted his leg, feeling that impressive strength in his quads. "Seriously, brother, I'm happy to help. We'll get you on a good plan."

That smile just about melted any bit of hardness in me. "I love you brother... you're the best," he said softly.

"Love you, too, man," I replied. And like that we were kissing, softly, romantically. We had our alone time and an empty parking lot and I guess we were gonna make the best of it.

Dan's paw gripped my crotch again, feeling the hardness that was roaring back. "I love your dick, brother," he grinned, looking into my eyes as he felt me up.

"You got a good touch, Dan," I smirked.

He nodded, running his fingers up and down my ridge. Then pulling down the shorts again. "If you want... we can get in the backseat, Nick and I'll... I'll be your cunt."

"Fuck yeah," I hissed.

My brother-in-law had taken the edge off with the blowjob, so I was feeling less urgent and more playful as got into the back, pulling down the seat for more room. Maybe we were taking a little chance doing it, but the place seemed pretty deserted at that hour, and it felt naughty having car sex like a couple of horny teenagers.

We stripped down and exposed our well built bodies - mine trim, Dan's beefy.

That big beefy body was getting into a face down position and hiking his ass back at me.

"Damn, kid," I growled, leaning in to munch on his hole. I didn't go crazy with the foreplay, but I wasn't in a rush for this round, so enjoyed tonguing that tight pucker of his.

Finally, I was getting pretty turned on. "So... Dan, buddy... I didn't bring any lube... did you?"

The guy looked back and shook his head. "Nah, Nick. But you can fuck me without it. I... um, kind of want to try it that way."

I was pretty recharged for round two but those words made my boner throb. I leaned over on top of that meaty ex-jock body and nestled my rigid prick between his buns. There was some slickness left from my spit, but mostly that had dried. I reached down and lined up my dick to his hole and I pushed past the ring.

"AW FUCK!" Dan grunted. Not outright pain, but some discomfort for sure. I paused instantly and patted his cheek.

"You OK, kid?" I asked, concerned but rock hard three inches inside him.

He nodded. "Oh yeah, Nick. I'm rock hard right now."

I pressed on. That hole was crazy tight. Almost too tight. Almost. As I pressed on, I savored just how different this was from pussy and I knew I'd want to do this again.

I started fucking. Not exactly rough, but hard. And the sound of Dan's excitement was palpable and just egged me on. He haadn't gotten off yet, and as I pounded him, he raised his hips up and reached down to tug at his cock. Even the dry friction on his cut piece was going to get him off.

"Fuck me, Nick!" he urged. "Fuck my hole, man..." Dan growled and like that, the big guy was cumming on my cock and spraying his sperm on the back of the car.

I was pretty worked up now, and the feel of his clenching guts milked me off for a second time. I orgasmed inside him and then collapsed momentarily on his warm back.

Maybe I expected shy Dan to return after we mated like that, but as we uncoupled and got our shorts back on, he looked over at me with a grin. "I'm glad you're my brother, Nick," he said with shocking sincerity.

"You, too, man," I grinned back and patted his bare shoulder. Then as I pulled on my T-shirt, I added, "We should get back."

"Yeah," he grinned. "Thanks for that fuck man. I guess I've been horny all week."

"I got ya, kid," I winked and we got out and got back into the front seat.

***

Dan wasn't the only one horny all week.

I wouldn't say that rough fuck with Dan drained me, cause I had a wicked case of morning wood the next morning. But the satisfaction lasted a good solid day, which was a good thing. Cheryl woke up with a case of morning sickness, so there would be no sex in the cards that day. I looked after her and let her rest.

Big Daddy was in his full grandpa mode, looking after Little Mark at the beach, while Dan and Courtney talked with Helen about the town news and preschool plans for Little Mark.

I swam and read and dozed on the beach. Then figured I'd go back and check on Cheryl.

"Anyone need anything?" I asked.

Big mistake. Turns out everyone had some food and drink request from the beach house.

"I'll help you, Nick," Courtney giggled as he she got up, those perky post-pregnancy tits bouncing. She'd gone with the two-piece that day and fuck.... I was tempted to slather them with sunscreen myself.

"Thanks, Court," I grinned. Low-key flirty but nothing too much. Not with my brother-in-law right there.

We made small talk as we walked back to the house. On the way, we passed Cheryl, who was looking pretty amazing in her bikini. She was five months in and sporting the start of a baby bump.

"Hey guys," she greeted. "Didn't want the day to go by."

I stepped up and gave her a husbandly kiss. "Hey babe... was just coming to check on you. Feeling better?"

"Oh yeah, thanks hon. Heading in already?" she asked.

"Just getting some food and drink for the gang," Courtney replied. "You need anything?"

Cheryl smiled. "No, I'm fine. See you out there," she said.

As my pregnant wife walked down to the beach and Courtney and I walked up, I couldn't keep my eyes off my smoking hot sister in law. God, I was a grade-A schmuck, but I'd been one since moving to Texas. Why stop now?

"You went with the two=piece today, Court," I smirked, feeling chubbed in my swim trunks.

She grinned. "You told me I should," she said.

"Absolutely," I shot back. "A bod like that, you definitely shouldn't be shy."

"You're sweet, Nick," Courtney replied in a coquettish giggle.

"Hardly," I said. "More like a wolf in the hen house." Making a joke about my lust. Putting it out there with a hint of deniability.

We stepped inside and felt the air conditioning. I paused and had to look at Courtney's big-titted body head on. It was clear what I was thinking. And where my eyes were. I knew Little Mike was eating baby food, so Courtney was probably no longer breast feeding, but damn those jugs were full and made an insane cleavage in the bikini.

"We're being SO bad," she giggled with a tease in her voice.

Not I was being bad. We were being bad. That was the signal I needed. I stepped up and placed my hands on her trim waist and pulled her to me for a deep kiss.

I was rock hard as we made out. The kiss wasn't a soft kiss but I tried not to be hard charging like I was with her husband. Courtney may be a slut, but she was a woman, a delicate machine you couldn't manhandle.

"Up to my room?" I grinned as my fingers caressed her soft skin.

She nodded with a giggle.

I stripped off and felt strangely proud of my rigid boner. I actually grunted as Courntey pulled off her top and let those massive breasts out.

"Fuck, Court, those are amazing."

"Yeah?" she feigned surprised. She knew her rack was top 2 percentile hot. A stacked woman like that doesn't get through life without that knowledge.

"Yeah," I grunted. "Let me feel em, babe." My kisses might have held back, but I manhandled those tits. Cupped them, squeezed them, and leaned down to lick them. "I could play with these all day, Court, but maybe we don't have a lot of time," I hissed urgently.

"I'm being such a BAD girl," she cooed as he sat on the bed and pulled off the bottoms of her swim suit. There was a perfect pussy. Just the right proportion of labia to creamy insides, and a perfectly maintained landing strip of dark brown hair. I got down between her legs and went down on the cunt.

"Oh shit Nick!" she gasped with a suppressed ticklish laugh as I ate her out. "Lick my pussy," she encouraged.

I did and pretty soon felt those fingernails claw at my skull as I brought her off to a first orgasm. I kept licking to prime the pump then kissed up her body. Our mouths met in an electrical connection. I'd been wanting to fuck Courtney Bryant for so long and now it was happening. My iron-hard spike pressed into the folds of her cunt.

Our mating was quick. Not rushed, but we were sneaking around our spouses' backs and didn't have a lot of time. I hammered Courntey's hot body, putting as much athleticism in to my fuck thrusts as possible. I didn't know for sure how Dan fucked her, but I wanted to make her know she'd gotten Brennan fucked.

The slut came again as I pounded her pussy, and as he gripped my back muscle I gave it up. Heavy cum spurts in her cunt. It was like I hadn't gotten off in weeks.

We giggled together as we came back down to earth. Maybe a little embarrassed at how out of control we'd gotten.

"Damn, Court, that was incredible," I said, taking another cop of her magnificent tit.

"Nick Brennan..." he cooed as she leaned up with a smile on her face and reached for her discarded swimsuit. "Here I thought you were the sweet, mild mannered man."

I grinned as I stood up, my dick still half hard. "Even us sweet guys have our weaknesses," I flirted.

I looked over at the clock. "Shit... I better get the food to take out."

Courtney laughed. I worried she'd be offended by the wham-bam approach, but she wasn't dumb. We were taking a risk.

All I'll say is that sorority smile and poise was amazing to see as we walked back to the beach with refreshments for everyone. Just like nothing had happened.

"Nick," Dan greeted as we walked up. "Just the man I've been waiting for... feel like some volleyball? A couple of dudes down the way have a game going."

"You bet, Danny Boy," I said as I set down the bag. "Those guys better get ready to have your their asses kicked."

#drakestories

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wickedlyqueer · 2 years ago

Note

Is there anything that you actually like about the Wicked movie? I’m thrilled Erivo has played a queer lead before and I can see the movie leaning into the queer aspect of the books (let’s face it, the stage musical totally dropped the ball on that). And I’d much rather have twice the Wicked onscreen, so I’m down for two movies.

oh damn have i been that negative about the wicked movie? Anon, I call the book and musical trash fires and garbage all day long. :') The movies are and will not be exempt. I expect things I'll fucking hate (like I do in the books and musical) but will still find so much to love.

I'm at the point where I see Wicked (in all its adaptations) as a big sandbox I get to play around in and build my own things. it's what I've done for years and will continue to do once the movie(s) come out. But to your question:

Things I'm Looking Forward To In The Wicked Movies:

I, too, am excited about Cynthia Erivo. Not only has she played a queer lead before, a quick wiki search tells me she actually identifies as queer and bisexual. A bisexual queen portraying a bisexual icon? Let's go!

Ariana Grande. Yes, I know, quite the controversial opinion, but I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Most criticism I've seen is that they think Ariana is just gonna play... Ariana Grande in the movie. Not Glinda. And it speaks to how much and how well of a Personality™ she has crafted over the years. Like, did you know her hair is naturally curly? She deliberately does not wear it in public, because that's a very personal and private thing. Always opting for the stylized high ponytail instead. Why am I bringing this up? Because unless you know Ariana Grande personally, all you know about her, is a public image. Remind you of someone? Right. Glinda. If she can tap into that part of herself, the public vs. private self, and use that to portray Gilnda. Hot damn are we gonna get a juicy second act!

("but she's not a full soprano!! and whistle notes don't count! >:(") she has a four octaves range and is literally one of the most popular and talented singers of our time. stop pretending your local fav and classically musical trained actress with no screen experience whatsoever would be able to do a better job.

("but when she performed at A Very Wicked Halloween she wasn't all that good!") Yeah, that came to my mind too, but I did a bit of a google and it turns out she nearly dropped out of the performance due to anxiety from a recent break-up, but also, oh you know, the goddamn Manchester Arena bombing, that killed 23 people, injured over a 1000 and left so many with PTSD and trauma, including Ariana. Just. Imagine singing. Doing your job. And as people leave your concert. They get killed and injured. Yeah, you know what? She gets a pass for not being "at her best" when it seems a lot of personal shit was happening at the time.

Which brings me to my final point about Ariana: she loves Wicked. I've said it in the first ever post I made after the casting announcement and I'll say it again: Ariana Grande doesn't need to go up for acting roles. She's at the top of her game career wise. If anything, doing a bad job as Glinda could leave a dent. So she wouldn't have gone up for the role, if she didn't want to fully commit to it. In my google search I also found out she's currently not working on new music so she can focus on Glinda. So. Literally pushing away the most successful part of her career to do a goddamn movie. That's commitment. She won't half-ass this. She's committed to the role. And I wish both her and Cynthia the best and that they can fully embody those meaty roles.

In that same vein, I'm quite happy to see Ariana and Cynthia bonding prior to shooting. I don't have much fate that the movies will strengthen the queer subtext (we can always hope, but i prefer not to set myself up for disappointment) but they very much understand that Glinda and Elphaba's relationship are at the core of the show. If I got some delicious subtext to chew on, I'm good.

The director Jon M. Chu gives me hope as well! I haven't seen his whole filmography but it seems he had several directing gigs and is used to mixing it with musical elements. I have seen Crazy Rich Asians (albeit a few years ago) but I remember it being campy but also heartfelt at the right moments and being able to switch between the two. Hey. That's similar to Wicked's tone! Honestly, watch Crazy Rich Asians and see how much it vibes with Wicked's tone of voice. I think you'd be surprised and pretty hopeful he can pull that balance off with Wicked too!

I obviously can't speak much about the actual movies, the plot, the storytelling, the cinematography, the acting, the costumes, the set design, the singing, and... pretty much everything that makes a movie. And I'm not really into speculating on the movie. I'll wait until the final product is here and pick and choice from there what I like. Getting new content for a fandom that hasn't really gotten anything new since at least a decade, is exciting on its own!

Bringing me to the one thing I unequivocally look forward to the most:

The movies will draw in new fans! Listen, I love tiny fandoms. I love our tiny fandom. But it's also, at times, a bit of a wasteland. Even if the movies become everything we fear, so many people will (re)discover Wicked!

And even if all of us elderly fans will be grumpy and mad that the movie isn't our 2D animated dream version we've all collectively embraced as the Better Movie... a real movie can never beat the fantasy version perfectly tailored to all the wishes in your own head. But that's where the fandom part kicks in. We can have our own fun!

So yeah, I'm exciting to all the people who will become curious about Wicked once the movies come out. Yes, even the people who only watch the movie bc Ariana is in it. Yes, even if they don't ship the ship I ship. Yes, even if I hate the movies with my entire being but they absolutely love it.

A bit of fresh perspective can really revive this fandom, but we have to let it. And I for one, cannot wait to see the new perspectives the movies and new fans will bring to us!

#sam's asks #wicked movie #wicked #long post #this really turned into a 'i wish we could eat a rainbow cake' speech but OH WELL

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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years ago

Note

Your fics are so cute. If you have time I would love to see this as a prompt for Rowaelin maybe? (Make it crazy if you want 😘)

“I would love to kiss you right now but my lips are on fire.”

For the Aesthetic

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Answered Prompt

“I would love to kiss you right now but my lips are on fire.”

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

1305 words

***

The party was in full swing by the time Aelin and Rowan arrived. If there was one thing Dorian did better than anyone else—even her, she’d begrudgingly admit—was throw a kick-ass party.

Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, bright purple and orange lights flashed, and dry ice was bubbling up from around the bloodied punchbowl. Aelin caught glimpse of her friends dressed like zombies, sexy cops, celebrities, superheroes, sexy superheroes, and a dozen other obscure costumes.

She smirked as she took in the cheap, generic-looking outfits. If Dorian won at throwing Halloween parties, then Aelin won at attending Halloween parties. She’d scoured the internet and thrift stores for the perfect pieces for her and Rowan’s ensembles. Her costumes were always the best, and she’d made sure that this year she and Rowan had the most amazing couple’s costume.

Rowan knew that Aelin would take reigns for Halloween, so he simply sat back and let her put together their costumes. Even if he tried to help or offer a suggestion, she shushed him and told him that Halloween was hers and that he could be in charge of one of the boring holidays. The insult was sweetened by lots of kisses, so Rowan didn’t put up much of a fight.

This year, she’d decked them out in full pirate costumes. Rowan’s shirt hung open to show off his broad chest, something Aelin had insisted upon with a wicked smirk. Aelin wore an authentic corset, and they both had shining swords hanging from their hips.

She had even found this website that specialized in edible glitter lipsticks. Aelin bought four different colors and was currently wearing the gold shade, making her lips look like shimmering sunlight or golden doubloons...and even more tantalizing than usual given the way Rowan could hardly keep his gaze off them for more than a few moments.

It didn’t matter that her lips had felt tingly ever since she put it on. Or that she felt a slight burn along her tongue after she’d licked her lips, but that was probably from the shot she’d taken before leaving the apartment.

They’d said hello to their friends before Aelin reached for a cup of the spiked punch. Maybe another drink would take her mind off her burning mouth.

Aelin dragged Rowan into the living room where the furniture had been pushed aside to create a make-shift dancefloor. He spun her around once they found an empty space before pulling her back into him, grinning.

Rowan’s hand on her waist tightened as he pulled her closer and moved his hips with hers in time to the music. Aelin let herself get lost in the dancing and the feel of Rowan as he leaned down and trailed kisses along the column of her throat. Aelin didn’t hold back her soft moan as he found the sweet spot right behind her ear, the music drowned out any noise she made, anyway.

When he brought his face up to hers, his eyes were dark and a smirk pulled at his lips as he admired the marks he’d left on her skin. Rowan bent his head to kiss her, but Aelin pressed a firm hand to his chest. He froze, the heat in his face dimming as he gave her a questioning look.

Aelin winced, wanting nothing more than to let him keep going, but she couldn’t.

“I would love to kiss you right now, Buzzard,” she told him, pulling him close so he could hear her over the music, “but my lips are on fire.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Rowan jerked back and his eyes scanned her face, landing on her golden, shimmery lips. His brows furrowed and he focused on her mouth before his eyes shot back to hers.

“Aelin, your lips are swollen.” He told her incredulously, “Did you have any strawberries?” he glanced over towards the food table, “I didn’t see any, but you know you’re allergic, you can’t eat them just because they taste good.”

She winced. Allergic. She must be allergic to the lipstick.

Rowan caught her wince and his concern deepened as he surveyed the food table with unerring scrutiny, searching for a fruit he wouldn’t find. She squeezed his arm, pulling his attention back to her, and told him, “No strawberries.” His shoulders relaxed a fraction, but he was still tense, trying to figure out why she was in pain, “I think it’s the lipstick.”

His eyebrows shot up as he focused on her lips once more. “The lipstick. Damn.”

It was her turn to look confused. “Damn? Why?”

He snorted but was already grabbing her hand to lead her from the dance floor and towards the door. “Because I really liked that lipstick.” He winked at her over his shoulder as he steered them out of the party. “I wanted to see it left on other places.”

Aelin blood turned molten...almost as hot as her lips felt.

She focused on them again and couldn’t contain the sharp inhale as she fully registered the pain she was feeling now that they were out of the suffocating party.

Her lips were on fire, so was the tip of her tongue, and she was positive they were swelling up to the point where she’d be unable to talk soon.

As soon as they got into Rowan’s car, Aelin dug into the glove compartment for her emergency bag to grab a pack of makeup remover wipes. Rowan started the car and got pulled out onto the road while glancing over repeatedly at her to watch as she scrubbed furiously at her lips, desperate to remove the cruel lipstick

It took three makeup wipes, but as soon as her lips were clean, Aelin immediately felt better. They were still swollen and felt like a dozen tiny fire ants were making their home on her face, but it was better than it had been on the dancefloor.

“Did it hurt the whole time you had it on?” Rowan questioned from the driver’s seat, reaching over to thread his fingers through hers.

Sighing, she leaned back and relaxed into the leather seat, “Yeah, but it wasn’t so bad at first. By the time we left it was only an incessant tingle.”

His head whipped towards her, “You felt it before we even left the house, and you still kept it on?” He shook his head trying to understand his girlfriend’s thought process. “You didn’t think maybe it’d be a good idea to get rid of the thing that was irritating you?”

She raised a single brow at him and smirked, refraining from making the obvious joke. He rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what she wanted to say.

Aelin used her free hand to tuck a stay wisp of hair behind her ear and lean closer to him across the center console. “It’s all about the aesthetic, Rowan. The lipstick completed the look,” she scoffed, “I wasn’t going to go to Dorian’s Halloween party with a sub-standard costume.”

Aelin grinned as Rowan loosed a long-suffering sigh and glanced side-longed at her, “And I suppose you have a reputation that not even physical pain would deter you from upholding.” He said drily.

Aelin just squeezed his hand in confirmation and he huffed a laugh before squeezing back.

“I might not be able to wear the lipstick,” Aelin murmured, inching closer to him, “But I do have a part of my costume you haven’t seen yet.”

His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as his eyes flicked back to hers, now wicked with amusement. His gaze roved over her scantily-clad body before saying in a voice an octave lower than normal, “Part that I haven’t seen? Are you wearing it now?”

Her answering smirk had Rowan speeding the rest of the way home.

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @ladygabrielli1997 @moodymelanist @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon

#rowaelin #aelin #rowan #aelin and rowan #rowan and aelin #rowaelin fluff #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius x rowan whitethorn #halloween #answered prompt #throne of glass #tog

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shadyelizabeth · 3 years ago

Text

"BABY"

Samira lay tucked against Keanu’s chest, her back to his front, turning a thought over and over in her head. The ceiling fan spun in slow circles above them, pushing a light breeze around the room. Fireflies floated in lazy patterns outside his window, slowly blinking in and out of existence, and Keanu’s arm was thrown over her waist, a finger lightly tracing across her abdomen.

“Babe,” she said.

“Yeah?”

She turned over so they were face to face, nose to nose, knee to knee, breathing in his spicy citrus scent. “I’m gonna ask you a question, and I hope you don’t get upset.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m intrigued. What’s up?”

“You and KB. Have y’all ever . . .?”

His eyebrows raised toward his hairline as he waited for her to finish.

She dropped her eyes and started, “I know sometimes bros are just bros, but y’all have this, like, almost affectionate relationship. You don’t shy away from blowing kisses at each other and grabbing each other’s butts. And I didn’t say anything because I kinda wanted to see how things played out, but earlier, when I stepped outside to take a phone call, through the window, I saw KB wrap his arms around you from behind; you leaned back into him, and it was an intimate moment.” Meeting his waiting gaze, she continued, “So, I’m just wondering if you guys have, like, ever dated or hooked up or something?”

He chuckled, the sound escaping through his nose. “Before I answer that, would it bother you if we had?”

“Of course not!” She said, shaking her head, her loose curls lightly hitting her in the face. “I think I’ve said that I’ve dated girls, in passing, but if not, to lay it on the table, I’m bisexual, myself. I just wanted to know if I was picking up the right vibe or seeing things that I might’ve wanted to see.”

“Might’ve wanted to see, eh?” He pulled her closer, wedging his knee between her thighs, applying gentle pressure. “Am I learning something new about you, right now?”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Let’s not pretend like you don’t know that you’re hot. KB is hot, and if you two hooked up, it would be fucking molten.” She ground down against his knee, unsure where this was going but excited to find out. “But you haven’t answered my question: Y’all got history or nah?”

Keanu bit his lip and nodded. With a sly smile, he said, “Yeah.”

“Fuck.” The mental picture in her head right now was overwhelming. Too many positions. Too many possibilities. All those hard, lean muscles and tattooed skin . . . She needed details and stat.

Rolling on top of him, she straddled his waist and pinned his arms above his head. “Tell me everything!”

He grinned and easily pulled his wrists from her grip. Placing his hands on her waist, he said, “Or . . . we could show you?” He was looking directly into her eyes, watching her reaction.

Samira had never been in a threesome before nor was it something she was necessarily dying to take part in, but she wasn’t opposed to the idea, given she felt comfortable in the situation.

When she’d first met KB and saw how close he and Keanu were, the idea had crossed her mind, jokingly at first, but the more she saw them interact, the more she thought Maybe . . . But she didn’t want to assume that’s what he meant, so she cleared her throat and said, “Come again?”

“You definitely will, multiple times, if you say yes.”

A shiver ran down her spine and she knew he felt it.

His eyes sparked with a mischievous glint and a wicked grin unfolded across his mouth. He rolled them over, so she was flat on her back and he was pressed up against her side. Propped up on one elbow, he splayed his other hand flat against her stomach. “If this is something we decide we’d all like to pursue, obviously, there needs to be complete and total honesty, so I’ll start at the beginning: KB and I have been friends for practically our whole lives. Neither of us have ever been shy about our sexuality.

“In high school, after some weird locker room exchanges, we both thought we might be into dudes, so we experimented with each other. We didn’t go too far, but we made out and touched each other’s dicks, got each other off. But it never went past that. We realized we were both more into women than we were into men, so we thanked each other for services provided and went on with our lives.”

“Is KB a good kisser?”

Nuzzling into her neck, his breath was warm on her skin when he said, “Very.” He placed a soft kiss on the underside of her jaw.

“That’s hot.”

“Yeah?” She felt his lips curl against her neck. His hand slid over her mound, rubbing her through the thin material of her lacy panties.

“Yeah,” she said, as her eyes fluttered shut.

“But you know how once you get a taste of something, even if you don’t want it regularly, every once in a while, that craving will sneak back up on you?” He bit her earlobe, continuing to rub circles with the tips of his fingers. “That’s kinda how it is with KB and me. There’s never been any romantic feelings, but every once in a while, we get an itch only the other can scratch.

“At first, we always had a third who was a woman. We knew what we wanted, but we also knew once we crossed that line, there was no going back. Being with a woman gave us an excuse to do more, especially if it meant pleasing her, if it was for her enjoyment—”

Samira’s imagination immediately put her in that scenario—being pleased by these two gorgeous men, their hands and mouths all over her body, her mouth and her pussy being stretched and filled by their beautiful cocks (even if she hadn’t seen KB’s yet, she knew it had to be a masterpiece)—soaking her panties through.

Keanu took notice because he pushed them to the side. His fingers quickly dipped into her wetness before swiping across her oh-so-sensitive clit. She moaned and tried to shift deeper into the bed, but he didn’t stop; his touches became more persistent. She could hear the smile in his voice as he continued to speak.

“But after a while, we decided we didn’t need a third. We enjoyed each other’s bodies, and if we couldn’t admit that to ourselves and/or be with each other without someone else, we figured we shouldn’t do anything more until we could.

“So, we went back to being just friends, until one night, we were hanging out at KB’s old place. We’d had a little bit to drink, but neither of us were drunk. We were tipsy and vibing. His hand ended up in my hair. My face ended up in his neck. Our lips ended up fused together. We took it back to his bedroom, ripping each other’s clothes off as we went. At that point, we hadn’t gone any further than sucking each other’s dicks and inserting a finger or two, but one thing led to another and that was the first time we fucked.”

He timed his words perfectly, sliding his fingers into her pussy as ‘fucked’ left his lips. Her eyes shot open; that wicked grin still plastered across his face. He held them there, continuing to rub light circles over her clit with his thumb. Her breathing was shallow as she focused on not coming too quickly.

Focused wholly on the sensation between her legs, she had to take a deep breath and swallow before she was able to ask, “But not the last?”

He shook his head, the tips of his hair tickling her bare shoulders. “Nope.” His lips popped around the ‘p’.

“I can’t—I can’t decide which of you I think would be the bottom.”

“Who would you want it to be?” His fingers started to move in and out of her, rough and rhythmic. Every time he thrust in, his middle finger rubbed sweetly inside of her in a come hither motion. She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt not to moan.

When she watched gay porn, she tended to watch burly men together. There was just something about two jacked men going at it, especially when one was moaning and vocal, saying how much he loved getting fucked. It was a man in a traditionally submissive role, relishing and moaning in exquisite pleasure when their special spot was hit, that really turned her on. She could cum from audio alone, and between Keanu and KB, since she knew Keanu better—knew the curves of his moans and the tastes of his screams, knew how dominant he could be in the bedroom—the idea of him in a receiving role made her gush.

“You—fuck! I can just see your hair wrapped in KB’s fist as he fucks you from behind.”

“God,” he moaned, his lips barely grazing hers as he spoke. “I can feel how much you like the idea of that.”

“I love the idea of that.” She tangled her fingers in his hair, needing something to hold onto.

“What else?” His pace sped up, fingering her faster.

“You,” she said, shakily, her breath uneven and voice trembling, “moaning like a dirty little cock slut every time his big dick fucks against your prostate.”

He was practically on top of her now. She could feel the length of his hard cock through his sweatpants, grinding against her hip and kissing her deeply, licking into her mouth. Her hips gyrated as he kept up on his onslaught on her cunt and her clit, her juices flowing down her crack, soaking into the sheets. She tried and failed to catch a breath.

“It always feels so good when his huge fucking dick hits just”—pump—“the right”—pump—“spot”—pump, his fingers squelching in her wetness.

“Ohmygawd.” The words came out in one breath. No spaces. No thoughts. Just pleasure.

“You’re gonna love his dick, baby,” he said against her lips.

“Fu-kuh!” She grabbed her nipples and pulled, hard, trying to focus on the picture they’d been painting. “And when he’s done using you, he comes in your tight little ass?”

“Uh huh.” He nodded. “And licks it clean afterward.”

“Jesus Christ!” She knew how much Keanu liked getting his ass eaten. She’d done it a few times herself, but there was something about KB’s face buried in Keanu’s hole that sent her over the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” she exclaimed, the delicious sensation between her legs growing more and more intense.

“Do it, baby!” He pulled his fingers from her pussy and started rubbing her clit and her lips quickly back and forth with the flats of his four fingers, his calluses adding extra friction.

It felt soooo fucking good! She kept tweaking her nipples, wishing she had a mouth (or two) to suck on them, but her fingers would have to do for now. Her back arched up off the bed, her thighs shaking as that white hot pleasure kept building and his fingers never stopped moving and—

“Cum for me, Mir,” left his lips, and, as if waiting for his command, she came, biting her lip to keep from crying out. She trembled with the intensity of her orgasm. Her pussy clenched and contracted, feeling the absence of something inside of her, the sound of her sopping wetness spurred her on and on until, finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.

Not trusting herself to speak, she swatted his hand away and rode the wave of her climax back to the shore, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to steady her erratic heartbeat.

Keanu pressed gentle kisses to her face and her neck, to her shoulders and chest while lightly trailing the tips of his fingers over the tops of her thighs and across her belly, the aftershocks of her orgasm still twitching through her body.

“That was so hot, baby.” He nipped at her jaw, the scrape of his teeth almost too much on her overly sensitive skin. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating for six months and I didn’t know how fucking filthy you were.”

She mustered up enough strength to turn her neck. Dropping a kiss on his forehead, she said, “I can’t believe we’ve been dating for six months and I didn’t know you were really into men.”

“Just one. From time to time.”

“Mmm.” She hummed, still enjoying his light caresses. “Have you guys hooked up since we’ve been together?”

“No.” He shook his head, looking up into her eyes. “We only fool around when we’re both single, and trust me when I say that there is nothing you or this relationship is leaving me wanting. But being here with him has . . . reignited some old engines.”

Pushing his hair behind his ear, she rubbed his ear softly, thriving in this tender intimacy of postcoital honesty. She wouldn’t say it was better than the sex, but sometimes, it was just as good.

“I believe you, and I get it. Our bodies tend to want what they want, sometimes regardless of what our heads and our hearts say which makes me wonder . . . You don’t think you’ll ever want anything more from KB? Like an actual relationship?”

He shook his head again, his hair falling back into his face. “Every time we’ve hooked up, we re-examined our relationship, to see if we’re okay with what we’re doing and to see if we’d like to give something more a shot. At this point in our lives, we’re okay with our current arrangement. We’re friends, first and foremost, who occasionally use each other to fill space when we’re lonely. ”

She nodded slowly, digesting his words. “So, if I say yes, would this be the first time y’all have hooked up with one of each other’s significant others?”

“Yes.”

“Why me?” she asked softly. “Are you just looking for a hot night of sex and debauchery, or . . .?”

Lacing their fingers together, he said, ”Even though we haven’t known each other that long, Mira, I feel like I’ve known you for much longer. We have a connection unlike any I’ve ever had with someone I’ve dated. The only other person who knows me as well as you do is KB, and the way you two automatically got along from the moment you met, I just—I wanna share this closeness with each of you, with the both of you, at the same.

“Plus, KB is, like, smitten with you.”

“Lol what?”

His eyebrows shot up again, but this time in surprise. “You didn’t know?”

She shook her head.

Kneading her hip, he said, “He didn’t say anything, but we’ve known each other forever. I know what it’s like when he’s into someone, and if you had just been a friend of mine, he would have shot his shot by now.”

“Hmm. Good to know I still got it!”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s not pretend like you don’t know that you’re hot,” he said, throwing her words back at her.

Bringing their clasped hands to his lips, he pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “But that’s it; everything’s on the table now. Take as much time as you need to think about it. If you have anything you wanna talk about with me and/or KB, we’ll talk. If you say no, we’ll understand. If you say yes, well . . . we’ll do everything we can to make sure it’s a night you’ll never forget.”

#lovelink #lovelink: keanu #keanu hale #samira #this is smut #KB #i wish Lovelink would give friends last names #i've never written smut before #don't judge me okay #february 2022 #thinking about writing a follow-up to this #but it's not gonna be soon

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sinnaminsuga · 4 years ago

Text

(gif credit: @littlefreya )

Title: Hatefuck

Summary: mike and the reader hate each other and end up fucking it out.

Word Count: 1,868

A/N: yes this a high school setting but mike and the reader are intended to be seniors so they ARE of legal age!!!

Tags: @littlefreya @wendimydarling @october505 @killjoy-assbutt-1112 @infinite-shite @inlovewithhisblueeyes @hope-to-hell @viking-raider @the-soot-sprite @raspberrydreamclouds @thelastsock @connieisland @nuggsmum @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @foodieforthoughts @geek-eat-repeat @oddsnendsfanfics @oddduckthatgirl @feralrunaway @its--fandom--darling @madbaddic7ed

There was no denying that Mike was hot as fuck. He was one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. But unfortunately, Mike was also a giant fucking douchebag.

I dropped my cigarette on the ground right in front of the school and crushed it with my boot. “Here we go again.” I thought to myself as I pulled the heavy door open. I started my trek through the main hallway while shoving my pack of Marlboro Reds in my pocket. And that’s when it started. Thats when Mike opened his fucking mouth.

“Hey Y/N! Smoking kills!” He shouted from across the hall. Surrounded by his usual gaggle of football playing idiots, he stood there smack dab in the middle, leaning against his locker, shit eating grin plastered across his face.

But little did that neanderthal know that today, was the day I had had enough. Every fucking day we engaged in the same back and forth, venom laced banter. Mike and I never liked each other. I can’t remember a time when he was even remotely nice to me. We just didn’t mix well. We ran in different circles and did different things so it never made sense to even try being friends. But somewhere along the lines, a general dislike for each other turned into full blown hatred.

I put on my most wicked smirk and sauntered over to him. “I didn’t quite hear you babe. Can you repeat that?” I said sweetly. “I said, smoking kills. I saw you shoving your box of cancer sticks in your pocket.” He replied with a smirk, his gang of numbskulls laughing right along with him. My grin widened as the gears in my brain turned. I laid my hand over my heart in mock surprise.

“My my my! I didn’t know you kept such a close eye on my every move! How sweet of you!” I said. “I-I don’t watch you. I glanced in your direction and made an observation that's all. I mean I-I don’t even like you. I hate you actually. Yeah. Um. so.” He stuttered, clearly surprised that I was responding to his usually ignored behavior.

I looked at him for a long few seconds before speaking again. I leaned closer to him and grabbed his face to pull him close to me, his lips hovering in front of mine. “Ya know Mikey, you’re so fucking hot that it really is a damn shame that you ruin it by opening your mouth.” I whispered, the corners of my mouth twisting up into a wicked smirk. Mike’s breathing was uneven and I watched him gulp before shoving him back to his original spot. His group of friends were equally stunned. I turned my back to him and began to walk away.

“Yeah w-well fuck you Y/N!” He shouted at me. I stopped walking and turned my head, smirk still in full effect. “Oh baby, if you wanna fuck me, all you gotta do is ask.” I winked and made my way to class.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that night, I made my way to a party on the other side of town that Jenny Bosley was having. About an hour into the party, I had had a few drinks and had successfully avoided Mike. I knew in my slightly inebriated state, anything could happen and I didn’t need to have yet another confrontation with that prick.

“Y/N! Come on! We’re playing spin the bottle in the living room!” Jenny waved for me to follow her. I made my way through the crowd and into the living room. Everyone was in a circle getting ready to play and I sat down beside Jenny. Mike made his way into the room and joined the circle, much to my dismay. Jenny explained the rules and the game began. Kisses were traded and laughs were had, until it was Mike’s turn. He spun the bottle and it landed on Jenny so he leaned across the circle to collect his kiss. Jenny leaned forward and Mike slid his hand into her hair, capturing her lips with his. I watched as his tongue swept into her mouth and her eyes fluttered closed. Their mouths moved in tandem and I was mesmerized at the sight. I found myself wishing I was in Jenny’s spot and I hated myself for it. “I hate him! WHY do I want to kiss him?!” I thought to myself.

Jenny and Mike separated after what felt like hours and returned to their seats. His gaze flickered to me and I rolled my eyes to let him know how COMPLETELY unbothered I was. The game continued until it came to me. I took a deep breath before spinning the bottle. It spun for a while before landing…on Jenny. I took a quick look at Mike and he was staring directly at me like he was a kid on Christmas, waiting to open his gifts.

I turned to look at Jenny. She was gorgeous and I had no qualms about kissing her. My main mission now was to kiss her better than Mike ever could. I cupped her face with my right hand and ran my thumb over her cheek before grazing her bottom lip. I looked into her eyes and she let out a shaky breath. That's when I knew I had her. I leaned in, slowly letting my eyes flick back and forth a few times from her lips to her eyes. When she was close enough, I pressed my lips to hers. My hand slid down to graze her neck as I licked her bottom lip. Jenny’s soft lips parted and I slipped my tongue into her mouth. We continued kissing for another minute or so before pulling apart.

Jenny settled back into her spot before shouting “Either I’m really drunk, or I’m REALLY bisexual. Sorry Mike, Y/N was better.” Everyone started laughing, even Mike himself let out a small chuckle. “Lets step this up! Whoever the bottle lands on when you spin, you have to take them into the hall closet for 15 minutes!” Kara, another girl in the circle, suggested. Everyone decided this was a good idea and the game continued.

Mike’s turn inevitably came and he grinned before spinning the bottle. My heart flew into my throat when it landed on me but I put on my signature smirk and stood up to make my way out of the circle. Without turning around I shouted “You comin’ Mikey boy? Or am I gonna have to get off all by my lonesome?” Seconds later I heard his heavy footsteps behind me.

Once we were in the closet I grabbed him by the shirt and slammed our lips together. It was all teeth and tongues and heat. I started pulling his jacket down his arms and he stopped me. “Wait I thought you hated me?!” He questioned. “Oh sweetie, I do. I absolutely do. But you’re also extremely attractive especially when you AREN’T talking. And haven’t you ever heard of “hatefucking”? It’s hot. So here’s how this is going to work. We have 15 minutes and I am horny as hell. So you are going to fuck me and we are never going to speak of it again. Got it?” I whisper-shouted. Mike furiously nodded and we resumed kissing.

Clothes went flying and our breathing was heavy and all I could think of was getting his dick inside me. He started kissing down my neck and I gasped as he bit into my shoulder. “Fuck I-I can’t wait anymore.” He grunted against my neck. Mike flipped me around and pressed my face into the wall as he lined up behind me. A litany of filth spilled from my lips as he pushed into me, my walls squeezing and attempting to force him out. Never in my life did I EVER think I’d be begging for Mike to fuck me in a closet.

He began slamming in and out of me, snapping his hips at a steady pace. He was hitting my g-spot on every thrust, rendering me speechless. At this point I was a writhing mess. “Please please please!” I whimpered. Mike tapped his fingers on my lips and I opened them to suck on the digits. “Oh fuck Y/N! Your pussy is so fucking tight. Yeah thats right you little slut. You're squeezing my cock so nice. Fuck! I could do this for hours babe.” He grunted into my shoulder. His fingers were still hooked into my mouth and he was prying my jaw open so I was slobbering all over his hand and panting into the humid air.

“Mike please! I need to cum!” I cried as best as I could with his fingers still in my gaping maw, my heated face pressed to the cool wall. “Yeah I know you do baby. I’m gonna make you cum don’t worry. Just hold on a little longer.” He said, punctuating his words with his thrusts. Mike’s hand left my mouth and slid down to rub tight circles on my clit with my own spit until my legs were shaking. His hand came back up to clamp around my throat. “Come on babe. Cum for me. I know you can. I know you want to.” He ground out, driving into my g-spot one last time. An inhumane sound ripped from my throat as I came around his cock, my internal muscles spasm king around him.

I could feel him throbbing inside me, close to his own orgasm. “Wait Mikey, not inside me.” I panted. He pulled out of me and I sank to my knees. I gripped his cock with my left hand and sucked him into my mouth. I started bobbing my head and hollowing my cheeks as I felt his hands pull my hair into a makeshift ponytail that he used to guide my mouth up and down his shaft. “Fuuuuck yeah. Thats so good. You look so damn hot with my cock in your mouth sweetheart. If I knew you were this good I would have fucked you a long time ago.” Mike groaned above me. I sank my mouth down as far as I could until I gagged around him. He was moaning and his eyes were screwed shut so I knew he was close. I jerked the portion of his dick that wasn’t in my mouth and sucked hard on the tip. He bucked his hips and came, hot and thick, down my throat. I looked up at him through my lashes and swallowed. He looked down at me with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks.

I stood up and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and started gathering up my discarded clothes. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.” Mike sighed, a small grin on his face.

I patted his cheek and before reaching for the door. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet sweetheart. Call me and I’ll hatefuck you within an inch of your life.” I winked at him and he let out a deep breath. “I might take you up on that. And I think it’ll be sooner rather than later.” He said, winking right back.

THE END

#mine #henry cavill #the cavillry #henry cavill fanfic #mike x reader #hellraiser hellworld #henry cavill smut

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acemapleeh · 3 years ago

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Oh Prussia for the character list?

send me a character and i’ll list:

favorite thing about them: What a fucking dude am I right? I detest that Hetalia is how I learned of this country’s fucking existence but what can you do. The whole debate on how the hell this bitch is still alive and the angst people create of how he’s slowly dying and so close to being an actual human is good shit. He’s an annoying piece of shit and he’s 100% proud of it. His brother is his world (Mister You Can Call Me Big Brother for the 482nd Time) and he’s a goddamn war machine. He’s been diligently writing diary entries since his birth like bruh. Man go from haha laugh at the funny man to I will silently slice your throat in a second. He’s neat, organized, wild, and loud and is capable of so much depth. Bitch said I’m dying but sure as hell it ain’t gonna be quiet.

least favorite thing about them: The fandom really just latched onto one part of his personality and ran with it and I’m kind of sick of it but the dub is also guilty of it too soooooooooo life goes on.

favorite line: “Wow it’s a lot tamer than our stuff but I like it- she float your boat?” / “Say what you want but my heart won’t listen.”

brOTP: Germany bro c’mon. Bad Touch Trio but they fuck.

OTP: Pruhun be still my beating heart

nOTP: Prucan- I’ll say it again but to have another answer, him and Austria as a functionable romance.

random headcanon: Wicked talented at a bunch of stuff. He was already skilled at a lot of things but since his identity as an actual nation went into decline, he’s gained a lot of free time. He’s picked up a lot of hobbies and he just knows how to do a little bit of everything. He’s like a retired old man. He goes to local community centers or colleges and offers to teach classes or just helps neighbors out with whatever they need; I think he really just needs to do things cause if he’s left alone to sit idly at home he gets too much inside his own head. He likes being active and he gets upset when his body gives out much quicker than it used to. Reminders of how different he is now from his brother and best friends are ones he avoids.

unpopular opinion: He’s kind of one my least favorite characters. I don’t hate him but the content to enjoy him is really specific. Maybe being in this fandom for so long and just going through everyone liking him in 2012 just... I don’t know. I see moments where his character really shines and I want more of that. I guess what I hate is what he sort of got reduced to in the fandom and how I see him written in so many fics. I’ve been seeing a major turn around in recent years and I’m very happy for it.

song i associate with them: Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen, The Sharpest Lives by My Chemical Romance, Raging on a Sunday by Bohnes

favorite picture of them: Halloween just got some of the best pics don’t they? It’s perfect for how he looks in the modern era. Fingerless gloves?? The choker?? How bisexual of you king.

#hws prussia #gilbert beilschmidt #dumb little headcanons

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anonniemousefics · 4 years ago

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Can we please get scenes from tfota in cardan's pov? Or an update on nine terrifying moons 🥺

Oh, you sweet thing - you’re killing me with the puppy dog eyes emoji! The next chapter of The Nine Terrifying Moons isn’t quite ready yet (I’m sloooow I’m sorry!), but I’ll give you a Cardan POV scene. :) Here’s THAT ONE SEXY SCENE from The Wicked King (hastily written and not really edited because I am too tired.)

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

“Give her what she wants, and get the information we need to avoid a war.”

There is fury, hot and unbridled, stewing in Cardan’s veins when Jude says it. The knowledge that this is what she is thinking of when she thinks of him. Not of the kiss they shared. Not of the heat of their skin together, or of the tremor of dangerous desire that had gone unmatched, no matter how Cardan had tried to put it out of his head.

No, Jude Duarte thinks only of using it to her advantage. It’s all she’s done with him – all anyone’s ever done with him, and he can barely see straight. He’s one of her many weapons, just like the blade she’d pressed to his throat.

He looms over her there in the dark room behind the throne, breathing hard – why? He hasn’t exerted himself. But when he’s this close to her, and she’s speaking of seduction, he feels overworked. Enraged and – and something else.

“Is that a command?” he growls. There are soft waves of hair framing her face that flutter in his breath, brushing her freckled cheekbones. He wants to brush them back, and what a disgusting reflex that is, this pull to caress his manipulator. He waits for her to invoke the magic that binds them.

But she doesn’t.

“No,” she says. Her gaze flutters, unable to meet his eyes. “Of course not.”

This surprises him. And was that a flush on her cheeks? Her soft, round cheeks… She isn’t pulling away from him – he can feel the heat off of her body, the quickening of her breath.

Perhaps he is not without his own weapons after all. He remembers what it was to be held at the point of her crossbow, and it is out of a desire to turn the tide in his own favor that he lifts her chin with his fingers so that he’s looking at her wide brown eyes.

It is a miscalculation. His heart thuds traitorously in his chest. He tries to ignore it. He just wants the upper hand, for once.

“You just think I ought to. That I can. That I’d be good at it. Very well, Jude. Tell me how it’s done. Do you think she’d like it if I came to her like this, if I looked deeply into her eyes?”

The soft pink color in Jude’s beautiful cheeks is rising even more now. He thinks about caressing them, about kissing them, about licking them – and he resists the urge to shake the insanity out of his head. He needs to keep it together.

“Probably,” Jude says, and he’s not completely sure, but it looks like she’s cracking. And he’s not giving up now at, well, whatever it is he’s hoping to gain here. (He’s really not thought this through.)

“Oh, come on now.” He hopes she won’t notice how he’s fairly coming right out of his skin with this sick desire. “If you want me to play the bawd, at least give me the benefit of your advice.”

What is he saying? Does he actually care what she wants?

He does. Damn it all, he really does. And right now, it really looks as if she wants him, and his twisted intentions are starting to evaporate. He can’t help himself – he lifts a bejeweled finger to her rosy cheek. It’s warm – her eyelashes flutter at his touch. Desire curls low in his belly.

“Should I touch her like this?” Cardan breathes. Tell me how you want to be touched.

“I don’t know,” Jude croaks, oh, but she does. He knows she does. And he’s going to find out.

Jude sucks in a breath when Cardan brushes his lips to the curve of her ear. He wants to feel the shape of it against his mouth. When she shivers in his hands, he thinks he might just be able to.

“And then like this? Is this how I ought to seduce her?” He can’t tell who’s doing the melting – it really shouldn’t be him. “Do you think it would work?”

Is it working? Do you want this?

Could you want me?

Please Jude.

“Yes.” Jude’s voice is a rasp, and she trembles against him when she says it. This, he thinks, is his moment. The moment she can finally know what it is to be kissed with a blade to your throat.

But when he takes her in his arms, when her lips part beneath his, he cannot find it in himself to kiss her fiercely, to make her pay. He kisses her as he has not stopped wanting to kiss her since that first night. He kisses her like he can finally breathe again. Jude Duarte is melting into his arms, desperately pulling him in for more, and more, and, with every kiss, he is resurfacing from the dark.

And it is crazy and terrifying and absolute madness, because this is Jude Duarte, who exists only to use him and break him, and if he loves her, then she will ruin him.

But that’s not enough to keep him from stumbling back to the low couch with her, drinking down her kisses like wine. This is becoming so wildly out of control – he really did not think this through. He needs – he needs – a reminder, some piece of silver to keep him grounded in this netherworld currently pulling him under.

“Tell me again what you said at the revel,” he says, climbing on top of her. She’s pulling at his shirt like she needs him, and he cannot fall in love with her.

“That you hate me. Tell me that you hate me.”

“I hate you,” Jude whispers, and, oh, that is perfect. He’s not in love, and neither is she, and this is totally fine. He kisses her out of gratitude at first. At then in desire. Then in sheer madness—

“I hate you,” she keeps whispering. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

I don’t love you. I can’t love you. I won’t love you.

But his hands tell a different story, sliding over the curves of her body, relishing how she responds. His mouth can’t form the words back, because they are lies. It is better, then, to say nothing at all, and gorge himself on this poison he’s now so hopelessly addicted to. After all, he may never get this chance again. Eventually, this spell will break, and eventually, she will despise him anew. In this moment, he can’t bring himself to care. She’s sliding off her hose, and he’s making quick work of his shirt, and he doesn’t want to think anymore about which one’s the weapon and who’s wielding what.

He wants only this. Jude’s lips on his skin. Jude’s fingers in his hair. Jude’s legs around his waist.

Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude

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

@yellowavocadopit, @dagypsygirl, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @booklover-sleeplover, @mwejh, @courtofjurdan, @faeriequeenofwest, @sugawsites, @loveyourselfsolid, @owl0y0s, @feelinglikecleopatra, @akaloto, @fantasyfox101, @persephxnecoven, @raging-bisexual-alert, @rteme, @nahthanks, @emmabookworm08, @elorcanislife, @snusbandxknifewife, @poeticbrownmermaid, @duarteegreenbriar, @thefolkofthefic, @alittledribbledrabble, @carmensworld17, @annejulianneh111, @amandlas, @elriel4life, @idk-what-name-to-use, @thewickedkings, @juliazato,

#fanfic friday #fanfiction #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #the folk of the air #the wicked king #cardan pov #jurdan

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gldnlitskies · 2 years ago

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EMMETT DAVIES ( HE/THEM ) is a DEMIBOY, TWENTY-SIX year old ELEMENTARY ART SCHOOL TEACHER/ACTOR AT ROECLIFFE THEATRE who has been living in Moorbrooke for HIS ENTIRE LIFE. They were born on APRIL 1ST and right now, they are currently residing in MAPLE COURT. It has been said that they look suspiciously like JORDAN FISHER and if they had to choose a song to describe themselves, they would choose SATELLITE by HARRY STYLES.

FULL NAME: emmett davies

NICKNAMES: em, boogaboo (his younger sibling)

SEXUALITY & PRONOUNS: bisexual (he&them)

ROMANTIC STATUS: single

BIRTHDAY: april 1st, 1996

ZODIAC: aries, virgo moon

HOGWARTS HOUSE: hufflepuff with gryffindor tendencies

PETS: pomeranian puppy named ‘chewy’

HOMETOWN: moorbrooke, maine

CURRENT LOCATION: moorbrooke, maine

OCCUPATION: elementry school art teacher, theatre actor

ROOMMATES: just chewy.

PARENTS: tbd

TATTOOS & PIERCINGS: tattoo of a small moon on his right wrist, the upper part of his right arm has a pair of harry potter glasses and lighting bolt tattooed (usually hidden beneath a shirt), a sleeve of different horror tattoos on his left arm, and his right ear has two piercings.

MUSE INSPO: nick miller + winston + ferguson (new girl), dale denton (pineapple express, seth rogan), wallace + scott (scott pilgrim vs the world, that gossipy bitch),fred wesley (harry potter) , j.d (scrubs), ross (friends), gambit (x-men), a little bit of everyone (the office)

MUSIC INSPO: welcome to the party - pop smoke, dopamine -borns, lost in the citadel - lil nas x, one more night- maroon 5, wicked games - the weekend, cherry -harry styles, lovefool -two colors (cover), myself - bazzi, burn the night away - there for tomorrow, kelsey -metro station, here comes the sun -the beatles

background:

emmett davies was born to stand out from those around him. he was born to destroy the norms of society while serving people a piece of reality with a smile. from the moment they were born, there were whispers that emmett laughed and giggled instead of crying. they never did get to know their birth parents as the moment emmett was born, they were adopted by a loving couple named TBD.

growing up, there were a lot of lessons emmett learned. the most important one was that their gender was not defined by what society wanted to shove down their throat. the moment emmett got the courage to step up and speak about what was going with them, their parents were there to support them every step of the way. and that was all em needed to get them through the negative comments he would sometimes come across.

college was a blast for emmett. they fell in love with everything about it, especially the late night with friends. he started off trying to major in criminal justice, having always had an interest in that field, but by the time they were in their second year the guy knew his path was somewhere in the arts. a famous actor? nah. live theatre? perhaps. but the inspiration to become an art teacher happened one day when emmett was helping one of their nephews create a macaroni art project during winter break. soon after, em began to volunteer at local children's hospital to help bring a little bit of color to their world while and they also just really loved the idea of being like an older sibling figure to them.

after graduation, it didn't take long for em to land a job at the moorbrooke elementary school as one of its art teachers. they couldn't imagine life as anything else, though em sometimes still wondered what life would've been like had they gone down the path of criminal justice. he does everything in his power to bring as much laughter, brightness, and creativity to his classroom. from the moment the kids step through his classroom doors they are encouraged to be whoever they want to be. if they want to be an apple that day, then an apple they will be. and em loves to do mini art shows with them in which he displays their art throughout the room, brings some snacks for them, and lets them all walk around to admire each other's paintings. there's not a single day that he doesn't end his lessons with a round of 'positive thoughts' which means every student must say something positive about one classmate and no repeats, so it's fair for everyone.

personality:

he is the type of person who greets everyone with a smile and always tries to make someone laugh. if you need someone at 3am just because you want to talk, emmett would be there in a heartbeat. he’ll always be a shoulder for anyone to cry on if needed. but, he’s also not afraid to fight for what he believes in and for those dear to him.

connections:

exes: andrej vårvik

close friend: ravi mudrik

childhood bestie(s): james reynolds

roommate(s): tony fortier

work friends: (0/?)

theatre friends: (0/?)

more connections tbd because i am horrible with making up connection ideas sladkfal but i am so ready for brainstorming and plotting if you’re interested <3

#mbintro

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imagineaworlds · 4 years ago

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I Love You (Part Fifty-Eight) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing. Dom/sub relationship. Dirty talk. Bondage (belts). Sex toy (vibrator). Edging. Impregnation kink. The reader does go by they/them pronouns, however, Hotch refers to them as female when saying “good girl”. Drugging(s).

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 9646

Timeline: A few weeks after part fifty-seven.

Criminal Minds Discord Server

Mine and Hotch’s anniversary was approaching, and even though we had vacation days saved up, we decided that we weren’t going to take time off to celebrate. It was going to be over the weekend, but still. If Strauss wanted to call us in for a case, we were going to show up. But, Rossi didn’t want me and Hotch to worry about it because our anniversary was more important, according to him, so he told us that he wanted us to focus on each other and not work. On Friday afternoon, Rossi showed up at our door, and without warning, he put a ring of keys in Hotch’s hand while saying, “No work. Not a single second of it. I want a figlioccio (godson) before I die or so help me.” When we asked what all of this was about, he dodged by giving us an address and strict orders to stay away until Tuesday morning.

“Dave, what is this?” Hotch questioned, turning the keys over in his hand.

He explained that he still had a place out in New York City that he didn’t use anymore. It was all ours for the weekend so that “Mom and Dad can have a little alone time.” I blushed at his comment. Our strict orders to stay away included a less than “veiled” threat that he would go to the Director himself and have us fired on the spot. I remembered thinking to myself that he was being a little hyperbolic, but I understood his point.

So, when Morgan showed up an hour later—something that was apart of Rossi’s plan all along, it seemed—we packed a few bags, got in the car, and we started driving up to New York City. Morgan had apparently asked if he could babysit Scarlet and Jack with Jessica while we were gone; but Hotch seemed absolutely terrified that we would come home to a burning house, even though I was insisting that it would be fine. I trusted Morgan. I knew that he wouldn’t actually let anything happen to our kids, especially since I got to see up close how good he was with Scar while Hotch was gone in the Middle East. One day, he was going to be a great dad. Besides, Jessica was going to be there, which meant that Hotch really had no reason to worry because we trusted her around our kids all these years, and Morgan was just like another big kid. She could wrangle all three of them, if she needed to.

When we arrived at Rossi’s place, I felt my jaw practically hit the ground. When he said he had a place in New York fucking City, I just assumed it was a small apartment, since that was the extent of what most of the city could afford. But not David Rossi. Not the Italian millionaire who insisted on spending his money on small, stupid, worthless things, like cigars and expensive pancetta. I should have known. If he was going to buy a place out there, he was going to go above and beyond, and he was only going to give me and Hotch the best of the best. That was why he gave us the keys to this place for the weekend. It was a huge floor-through apartment on the top floor of one of the nicest buildings around. Getting up there was a challenge, but it was also fairly simple, in some weird way. There was a doorman, and there was security which we had to check in with since we were unfamiliar faces. However, once we mentioned David Rossi, everyone’s demeanor changed. They all started apologizing for the inconvenience, and they were practically begging us to tell them if we ever needed anything… even though we really wouldn’t need anything at all. We just wanted to get upstairs. So, they all magically left us alone.

Up in the apartment, Hotch and I couldn’t help but laugh at how big and ostentatious it was. This felt absolutely ridiculous Was it necessary? No. However, was it incredibly nice? Yes. It was a relief to be alone again with no work, no friends, no kids, and absolutely no worries. It was just me, him, and an ugly bear rug in the living room.

Hotch let go of the bags he had brought up before turning and sweeping me off my feet. I gasped then giggled. It had caught me so off guard, but now that I was in his arms, I didn’t care about anything else in the world. All I could think about was his eyes. They were staring right into mine, searching for little signs that told him how much I loved him. And that was when I noticed a familiar sparkle in his eyes. It was the sparkle that said he loved me so fucking much that he’d die for me, but also that he would do anything I wanted for me… everything.

I kissed his jawline, just under his earlobe. “I brought the black box,” I whispered seductively.

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

“You don’t want to see the city or get dinner first?”

“No, Sir.”

He set me down on my feet. “Find the bedroom while you’re getting undressed.” He spun me around so that I could lay eyes on the hallway where the bedroom could be. As I took my first step in that direction, I felt him slap my ass, making me giggle, and he chuckled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said, taking off my shirt slowly while walking, then turned to throw it at him.

I picked up my pace. Kicking off my shoes, then sliding out of my socks, I could spot the bedroom in the distance, the door wide open, practically inviting us inside after a long day of driving, and what was sure to be a long night, too. Racing down the hallway, I hopped and shimmied out of my pants, catching myself on one of the walls every time I wobbled and nearly tipped over. I was standing in just my panties and bra now when I entered the bedroom, finding the forest green comforter that I sank into as I jumped onto it.

That was when I heard shuffling outside. I bit my lip, hurrying to reach behind me so that I could unclasp my bra before Hotch could come in and scold me for not obeying his command by getting undressed faster. As my bra fell, I tossed it to the side. Just as I saw his shadow creep towards me, I laid down and lifted my hips up so that I could push my panties down, and then set them to the side for him, if he wanted to use them as a gag, or if he wanted to put them in his pocket, or even if he just wanted to disregard them entirely by throwing them onto the floor.

“Look at you,” he teased lightly, his voice lower than usual. There was his Dom space. I recognized it immediately without even having to look over at him. “So good for me, baby.” I dared to glance at him with a smile creeping onto my face. “Put your hands at your sides for me. Keep your legs together.” I did as I was told. I wasn’t willing to rock the boat just yet, though I knew I would once the opportunity presented itself. “My good, obedient, eager whore.”

I melted at his words. “Yes, Sir,” I croaked, even though I meant to sound confident. I swallowed hard and tried again. “I’m your good, obedient, eager whore.”

He grinned ear to ear. After taking a second to admire me as I was sliding into sub space, Hotch looked around the room for somewhere to set the black box. When he had decided on the desk to my left, he headed there without saying anything. I was so anxious. I wasn’t sure if it was because we were somewhere other than our bedroom at home, or if it was the fact that we had both slid into our respective headspaces so easily, or if it might’ve had to do with the fact that Halloween had only been a couple of weeks ago and I was still entirely obsessed with everything we had done before we were interrupted by the kitchen timer downstairs. Was he going to punish me like he had that day? Was he going to reward me for being so good to him? Would I even get his cock at all? So many questions were swirling through my head, and I wasn’t getting any answers just by watching him dig through the black box.

Hotch approached the bed with two belts in hand. My eyes widened as I watched him expertly loop one of the belts up to make homemade handcuffs. Without even having to demand anything of me, I stuck my hands out in front of me, and he smiled while sliding the belt onto my wrists before tightening it as much as he could. I hissed. His smile didn’t fade in response, though—in fact, it only seemed to grow. As he pushed me onto my back, a wicked smirk replaced his grin. Curiosity and anxiety were coursing through me because I had no idea what was about to come. There was still another belt lying there. But Hotch didn’t go for it yet. He stepped away to grab something else from the black box. When he turned back around, I saw that he was holding a hitachi wand—actually, our only one, though Hotch insisted we should get another just so he could torture me even more, to which I told him no in order to spare myself.

The wand started to buzz after he plugged it into the outlet next to the bed and under the bedside table. I tensed at the sound. This wasn’t going to be good. I almost regretted bringing the entire black box with me in the first place, because now that we were there, I could see in hindsight that it was going to be a very long weekend for me. We had only just gotten to the apartment, and Hotch already had me in sub space. Tuesday felt like a millennium away.

“You don’t cum without permission, slut. Understand?”

I nodded eagerly. “Yes, Sir.”

“You’ll hold it if I tell you to.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl…” he muttered, finally hovering the wand over my left nipple until I could barely feel it. I moaned lightly. “You don’t have to be quiet, baby. We’ve got the whole floor to ourselves.” He leaned over me. “And no one’s going to stop this.” He trailed the wand over to my other nipple, rolling it around until it was hard. I bit back a moan. Hotch grabbed my cheeks roughly in his hand and said, “Don’t hold back. Stop that.” But I didn’t let go of my lip. He squinted at me. “You’re really going to be a brat right now? Of all times? Now?” I didn’t answer him. Hotch growled lightly under his breath, sitting up and pulling the wand away from me entirely. “Fine. I won’t let you cum, then.”

“No—” I immediately tried to apologize, but Hotch stopped me with another glare.

“What did you just say?”

I tried to make myself small, hiding myself as far into the mattress as I could. “Sorry, Sir.”

“It’s too late for that.” He turned off the toy before settling it between my thighs, pressing it up against my bare, soaking wet pussy. I rolled my hips. “Stop moving.” I didn’t stop, though. In response, Hotch slapped my thigh harder than I was anticipating, making me yelp. “I said, stop moving, brat. Don’t make me tell you again.”

With the vibrator sitting between my thighs, he moved my legs so that they were pressed together, keeping the toy there without any work. And then it finally made sense as to why there was another belt. I watched as Hotch took the length of the brown belt in his hands, smoothing it out until he found each end, and he pulled it taught, making me flinch. He smirked. We both knew what he was planning on doing with that, and while the thought was certainly appealing to him, I knew that it wasn’t any good for me.

“Lift your knees,” he ordered.

I bent my knees upward just enough so that he could slide the belt under my thighs, and then he pushed my legs down roughly in order to tie the belt around my legs, completely prohibiting me from spreading my legs. The worst part was, Hotch had tied it just over the wand, which meant that no matter how much I squirmed, no matter what I did in an attempt to make it stop, the wand wasn’t going to budge away from my clit. It was going to stay there until Hotch was through with watching me suffer.

As I suspected, Hotch turned on the toy, making me jolt in response to the sudden overwhelming stimulation that was coursing through me. The worst part was… it was on the highest setting. He wasn’t starting out easy, and he wasn’t giving me a chance to relax or get into it. He knew what I wanted. He knew why we were there. He knew what would destroy me. He wasn’t going to take it easy on me.

“So sensitive,” he whispered to himself, dragging his fingertips up and down my thigh as slowly and lightly as he could.

I gasped as the toy hit a sensitive spot. Without thinking, I rolled around and cursed, “Fuck, Aaron.”

He grabbed my hip, making me settle on my back again. “Manners.”

But that wasn’t the point of having the entire weekend to ourselves, now was it? No. The point was that it was just us, without kids or work for once, and I could do whatever I wanted as long as it got him riled up enough to keep us both in bed until Tuesday. There was one thing that would work. Since getting married and having kids, it was really hard for me to maintain my brattiness because any moment we did get alone had to be fairly quick, because who knew when Scarlet would start fussing up again, or if Jack would need something, or if the office would call with a new case? If we wanted any adult time together, it had to be fairly fast and simple. But now there were three days and four nights ahead of us where I could finally be a tease again, just like old times. Like on the plane to St. Louis… How I missed those days. The tiniest thing I’d do would trigger Hotch, setting him into Dom space, giving him any and every excuse to punish me. I almost wished we could go back in time. Not that I would give Scarlet up for anything… but… those early months of dating were so simple and free. For just this weekend, we could afford to be like that again.

So, I did what any good brat would do. I looked him dead in the eye, and I said, “Make me.”

Hotch’s entire demeanor changed. He was already angry with how quickly I went from being his “good, obedient, eager whore” to the brat that was willing to challenge him on every little thing, just because I could. This anger was different. The look that washed over him reminded me of the good old days. We had just started dating, and I told him all about the black box and what it meant to be a Dom, and he just… There was this look of hunger he had when I got bratty. He used to jump me any chance he got—not that he didn’t anymore; it was just different now. But I saw it just then. I saw it as the words left my mouth, and I was immediately filled with regret.

He shook his head while walking to the black box again. “’Make me’,” he muttered, chortling. “’Make me’. Huh. Sure. Yeah…” He grabbed something from the box. “I thought I wanted to hear you scream for me,” he turned with a ball gag in hand, ��but now that I know exactly what I’m going to do with you, I don’t think I want to hear your pathetic cries for me to stop or slow down…” He kneeled on the bed, forcing my jaw open with a rough grip on my cheeks. He shoved the gag into my mouth and quickly fixed together the buckle under my hair. “’Make me.’ You don’t get manners at all now. No, ‘Please, Sir’,” he mimicked my pathetic, pleading voice whenever he was edging me, “and no ‘Stop, Sir’, or ‘Sir, I can’t take it anymore!’ because you’ll take whatever I give to you.” He pressed the vibrator against me as hard as he could, tightening the belt around my thighs to make sure it would stay like that. “And no fucking cumming.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I kept squirming my fingers stretching for the toy that was torturing me. It was brutal. The highest setting was stimulating me to the point that my legs were all ready shaking, and I was a whimpering mess behind the gag. I was going to get close soon. I kept stretching my fingers for the wand, trying to pull it away just to catch a break because I didn’t want him to edge or ruin me. Some part of me wanted this to all be on my terms so that I could just find relief by climaxing, but Hotch wasn’t going to give me that satisfaction.

Hotch intertwined his fingers with mine to stop me from reaching. I squeezed his hands. My hips bucked, my head thrown back into the mattress, and I let out a scream. All he did was snicker. I was so close already—Fuck, fuck, fuck!

He turned it off just as I got to the edge. I thrashed around more violently this time, pissed that the stimulation was gone just when I needed it most, but Hotch and I kept holding hands, refusing to let go. He chuckled and brushed my hair out of my face.

“Is it bad that I want to see you cry?” he asked me.

I whimpered. “Sir—”

He turned the toy back on. “I think we’ll keep edging until you cry. Maybe then you’ll have learned that your place is to use honorifics, and that’s it.”

“Sir—”

“Shhh…”

I wiggled my hips to make the toy flick across my clit, which only made the stimulation 10x better, which was taking to the brink faster. “Sir, Sir, Sir, Sir—” I screamed again when he turned it off.

“You have to go slower, baby girl. The faster you edge, the worse it’ll be.”

“I hate you,” I mumbled behind the gag, drool running down my chin.

“No, you don’t.” He turned it back on, but this time on a speed that was much slower, making it harder and longer for me to edge. “God, you look so pretty.” He leaned down to take my nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, making me moan pleasantly instead of screaming like I had been. I melted into the bed. “So, so pretty for me…” He kissed the other one. And then his phone started ringing, startling the both of us. He groaned and sat up to turn it off, but he froze when he spotted the same. “It’s Sean,” he told me with a confused yet worried tone. “Stay here.”

I whimpered and tugged at the restraints as he started walking out of the room. He answered the call and closed the door behind him. I moaned out as the vibrations hit a sore spot on my clit. Now that he was gone, he wasn’t there to stop me from wriggling around, so I started twisting and turning while trying to find a way to release myself or get the vibrator to move off my clit just to give me a break. But there was no way out. The son of a bitch tied it to my thighs so hard that moving only made it worse. I whimpered around the ball gag again as my orgasm started to build again. At least he wasn’t there to take it away now. He would never know. If I just raced towards my climax, I could finish before he’d come back… Yeah. That was a good idea…

The door burst open just as I thought I could get away with it. I shook my head and cried, knowing that he was going to take it away as soon as possible, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. “I am so sorry, baby,” he apologized sincerely. I looked at him with wide, curious eyes. He wasn’t apologizing in a teasing way. Hell, he wasn’t even in Dom space anymore. Something happened with Sean on the phone. “I have to go.” He stretched over the bed to turn off the vibrator. I moaned as I edged, throwing my head against the mattress. “I’m sorry…” He started unclasping the belt around my hips so that he could pull the toy away. “Sean’s in trouble.”

“Gag,” I tried telling him, though it was muffled and hardly coherent. Hotch somehow understood, because the second the rope was loose enough for me to wiggle out on my own, Hotch reached behind my head to unbuckle the ball gag.

“Don’t talk yet,” he warned worriedly, grabbing onto my jaw to hold it open so that I wouldn’t hurt myself. When the gag was out, Hotch set it on the bed. “Just relax.” He slowly helped my jaw close. “I’m going to make this up to you, I swear—”

I shook my head and sat up. “What’s wrong with Sean?”

Hotch sighed and shifted on the bed so that he could uncuff my hands. “I’m not entirely sure. I just need to meet with him and take care of it—”

“I’ll go with you.”

He shook his head. “No. He’s my burden, and I— I feel bad for leaving you like this—”

“Hotch, this doesn’t matter while Sean’s in trouble. You’ll make it up to me later, just like you said. Your messes are my messes. Remember?”

Hotch threw the belts next to the ball gag. “I’m so sorry.”

I smiled lightly at him. “If it makes you feel any better, you’ve edged me worse before.”

He chuckled and pressed his forehead against mine, his eyes falling shut. “I will make this up to you.”

I kissed him quickly. “I’ll clean up and then we’ll go.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” I kissed him again, then wiggled off the bed, hurrying to the bathroom. “Sean Hotchner…” I sighed to myself. If he weren’t my brother-in-law, I would have killed him myself. Acting like this was alright in front of Aaron was easy, but the truth was that I was frustrated… in more than one way.

----

The Edinburg was where we were meeting us with Sean. As we pulled up to the club, we saw the cops, medics, and witnesses all standing around in the cold, trying to wrap up the scene. Sean spotted us right as we got out of the car. We approached the barricade around the club, flashing our credentials to the cops that were trying to keep us out, and they let us pass through without any problems.

“Thank you, guys, so much for coming,” Sean said, dropping his cigarette on the ground and putting it out by grinding the toe of his shoe against it.

“I didn’t think you were allowed to smoke in public in New York,” Hotch said coldly to his brother.

He slowly started sliding his arm around the small of my back, pulling me close. He hadn’t finished dropping yet, I could tell, and he probably wouldn’t for a bit because his mind was still racing with what we had been doing—and I knew that because I was still thinking about it, too. We were supposed to be there for Sean. He called us, asking for help, and that was what we were supposed to be there for, but the endorphins were still coursing through us which was why we hadn’t settled down to completely focus on Sean yet. We just had to give it a few more minutes.

“You’re not even going to warm up to the big brother act?”

“I figured that it would save us time. You called during our anniversary.”

“So, that’s why you guys are up here.”

“Yeah. Care to tell us what we’re doing here now?”

“The girl I told you about, the one who died, her name was Anna. The cops think that she OD’d, but I’m not… I’m not so sure. She was bleeding everywhere, Aaron. I mean, out of her eyes, her nose, her ears. You don’t do that when you’re overdosing.”

“And you would know?”

“Aaron!” I hissed.

That was rude. I knew that Hotch was done with Sean, he had said that much since Haley’s death, and even when Sean showed up to our wedding, they didn’t talk, but he had no right to say that. Sean was his own person. If he was struggling and needed help, we should’ve been a safe space for him to turn to. But if Hotch kept this ‘tude up, Sean wouldn’t have anyone.

Sean shook off the comment to continue telling us what happened. “My manager wouldn’t let me call 911 until I got her outside so that the club wouldn’t be liable; but by then, she was already dead.”

“Is this the first time this has happened here?” I asked.

“No… My girlfriend, Linda Heying, she died last week the same exact way.”

“She didn’t abuse or anything?” Hotch questioned.

“No. She drank, but after—” He stopped himself so that he could tread lightly. “After something that happened a few months ago, the two of us got clean, and we stopped using.”

“Using what?”

“Not the point, Hotch,” I whispered. I looked at Sean again. “Do you know of a third one?” Without a third case, it wasn’t federal, which meant that we couldn’t take it. But Sean nodded, which meant that the case was ours now if we wanted it. I sighed and looked at Hotch. “Rossi’s going to kill us.”

----

While the team was on the plane, Garcia called to let us know that there was a similar situation in another club just after the victim at The Edinburg. Six people died of apparent drug overdoses, but they had been bleeding the same way Anna and Linda had. So, this had turned serial in less than a night. Whatever had been tampered with—drugs or alcohol, probably the latter considering that Sean was adamant that Linda didn’t do drugs at the time of her death—had made its way into both clubs on the same night. The likelihood that it could be found elsewhere was rising. If we didn’t act fast, this was going to get out of control.

The team was discussing the case and the profile on the jet without us, though. Hotch and I were holed up in the Field Office that we hadn’t stepped foot into since the bombing five years ago. It honestly felt as if no time had passed at all. We had shown up at the office, and everyone was taken aback by how much Kate looked like Haley, and everyone was convinced that her and Hotch had a history—and I was sure of it, too, because they didn’t act like friends all. Kate was always hanging around Hotch, hugging him every chance she got, talking privately and intimately with him, only valuing his opinion. Hotch told me that I was crazy, though. He convinced me into thinking that him and Kate had never done anything, and I believed him, and it never even crossed my mind again until he finally fessed up a couple of months back when I asked him to lay out all of the lies. They did have a history together, but it meant nothing to him. They were just friends in his mind. During that very case, he lost his friend. He lost someone who meant a great deal to him, someone who reminded him of Haley, and at the time, we thought about how hard it would have been to see Haley bleeding out like Kate had, thinking that it would never happen. We were so naïve back then.

I held onto Hotch’s hand when he started fidgeting and bouncing his knee. It was hard for him to be back and to not see Kate, to know that both her and Haley were now gone, and that I was all he had left. He brought my knuckles to his lips and placed a ginger kiss against them as a silent thank you for sitting silently with him.

“We should talk to Sean since he knows the most about the other victims.” He pushed himself to his feet before he could continue overthinking, and he immediately walked towards the interrogation room where Sean was sitting.

“Hotch—”

He closed the door on me, though, so the only way I could spy on them was by heading into the mirror room. Hotch sat down across from his brother. “Six kids bled out last night, just like the others. How well do you know these people that you’re working with, Sean? I mean, they wanted to avoid a liability by dragging a victim out of the building before deciding to help.”

“Listen, Thane hooked me up with the job a couple of months ago. What comes with that is bartending, cleaning, and looking the other way when something’s going down. Linda and I started dating a few weeks after that.”

“By looking the other way, did you suspect that any of the employees were dealing?”

“No. Just buying.”

“What was it that you were addicted to?”

“Aaron—”

“You need to be honest with me right now, Sean, if I’m going to help you.”

Sean sighed and sat back in his chair, wiping his face clean with his palms. After collecting himself, he dared to look back at Hotch. “Cocaine.”

“And you’ve stopped.”

“Yes?”

“And you’re not involved in anything illegal?”

Sean’s posture changed to something stronger, more adamant, but his eyes kept shifting as he answered, “Yes, but I’m not!” He was lying. Through and through, no doubt about it, he was lying.

Hotch noticed it, too, because he left the interrogation room without another word. When he opened the door, I saw Strauss and Rossi coming in just behind him. They must’ve had a long drive from the jet.

Rossi crossed his arms over his chest. “We just got off the phone with Reid, Morgan, and JJ on our way here. Apparently, they found out that the drugs are made up of PMMA, which is a highly lethal drug with delayed results, so Reid thinks that all of the victims weren’t getting high, which was why they kept taking more and more until they overdosed.”

“This is the first time we’ve found evidence of PMMA in the United States,” Strauss said, “and the Director wants it gone. Did your brother tell you anything?” Strauss asked Hotch. He shook his head. “Well, he has to know something, right? Agent Greenaway said he was lying.”

“About something else—”

“He could be hiding things from us. He might not talk to you because you’re family, so, Dave, I want you to give it a shot.”

Rossi shrugged and immediately reached for the door, seeing no problem with going in. Sean didn’t know Rossi. Whenever he had actually been around to meet the BAU, it was while Gideon was around—and the wedding didn’t count because Sean spent all of his time at the open bar. Rossi was a stranger. Sean probably knew how to get away with lying—or at least thought he did—but with Rossi, he would be thrown off his game, which would potentially give us an edge.

So, we watched from behind the mirror.

“Where’s Aaron?” Sean asked as Rossi sat down across from him.

“In cases where family’s involved, we like to have an unbiased agent perform an interview for another perspective.”

“Am I a suspect?”

That was an interesting question to ask. I mean, if he were innocent, he wouldn’t have asked a question at all, he would have waited for Rossi to proceed so that he could just answer all of the questions as honestly as possible. Asking a question made him seem guilty. The way he shifted in his seat uncomfortably, too, was a red flag.

“Should you be?” Rossi asked, squinting suspiciously. Sean rolled his eyes. “How well did you know the second victim, Linda?”

“We used to date.”

“’Used to’?”

“Yes. Before she died.”

“You know, that’s funny,” Rossi sat back, “because most people would say, ‘We were dating when she died’. But you referred to your relationship as though it had been a past tense situation before her death. Am I right?”

Sean nodded. “Yeah. We broke up after we had a fight.”

“Over?”

Strauss turned to look at Hotch, distracting us from the interrogation. As she asked, “Aaron, do you think you’ll still be able to work this case? I need to know,” Rossi asked another question about the argument when Sean didn’t respond at first. What Sean answered with caught Hotch off guard.

“My using… I stopped, though, because of her.”

“When was that?”

“Two months ago.”

“Any relapses?’

Hotch stormed out of the room. I tried chasing after him, but the door slammed on my face slowing me down. I could hear Hotch yelling at Sean from the hallway. “You’d rather not say?! I asked you about this earlier and you said it didn’t matter! People are dying, Sean!” I stumbled into the room, running into Hotch’s back. His stance didn’t waver. “What was it? Heroin? PCP?”

“Jesus, Aaron, who do you think I am?!” Sean exclaimed.

“Clearly, I don’t know!”

“Hotch,” I whispered, grabbing a hold of his bicep, trying to pull him out of the room with me. “Hotch, stop,” I pleaded. “Aaron!” I finally pulled him out of the room and slammed the door behind us again. “Stop this right now! Stop!”

“He’s been lying to us—”

“Which seems to be a running theme in your family.”

Hotch stopped in his tracks. “Y/N—”

“You’re staying out of this until we’re done dealing with Sean—”

“—Y/N—”

“You’re done! Go wait in the boardroom.” I pushed him away, making him stumble towards the room where the team was just walking into. He opened his mouth to say something else. “Go!” I sighed as Hotch officially turned around, his head lowered in shame, and he wandered off. “Sean Hotchner… You motherfucker…” I opened the door again and stepped in. I sat beside Rossi. “Sean, listen to me.” He stared at me. “You need to tell me and Rossi the truth right now before we let Hotch come in and actually deal with you the way he wants. If it were up to him, he would have cut you off years ago and blocked your number. If he comes back into this room, I guarantee you he’s finally going to do it. So, we need the truth. Right now.”

“It was ecstasy!” Sean yelled over me. It was like he was trying to prove something, though I wasn’t sure what. “I got it from Thane.”

“Your boss? The same guy who told you not to call the cops until the dead woman was outside of his bar. You didn’t think to mention that earlier? That’s a lead—”

“Thane may be a dumbass, but he doesn’t kill people.”

“Does it not occur to you that if Thane is the one with access to the drug supply, he might also have access to the person who is doing this, then?”

Sean froze. The entire room was silent as it dawned on him that Linda’s murderer had been under his nose the entire time. “I… I didn’t… How could I…” He fell silent again.

There was a knock on the window to our right, making Rossi and I look over. It was Hotch. I rolled my eyes, thinking that he was asking to come back in, probably after convincing himself that he could be calm about it, which we all knew he couldn’t. But then he held up a case file. There had been another incident. Rossi and I excused ourselves from the conversation with Sean and headed out to the hall, waiting until the door fell shut behind us to ask what happened.

A family was found dead in their house by their daughter who was returning from school. They were on the floor, bleeding from every crevice imaginable, but they were already gone by the time paramedics got there. The thing was, they were a nuclear family in an upper-class neighborhood. They weren’t high risk at all. Why would they take ecstasy in the middle of the day?

“That’s why I’m sending you, Morgan, and Reid,” Hotch said. “The rest of us are going to stay here and keep looking into PMMA and where it’s coming from.”

So, that was how Reid, Morgan, and I ended up in a living room covered in blood and puke, a crying girl sitting in an ambulance outside, covered by a shitty trauma blanket. There wasn’t a single hint of ecstasy anywhere. Morgan and I searched the house while Reid tried profiling the parents, and the family as a whole. According to him they were a happy family. It didn’t seem like they had any problems beyond mild marital issues, which he discovered when he found the bill for couple’s counseling hidden underneath the mother’s journal in her bedside table.

“Nothing here suggests that these two would ever try any drugs, even marijuana,” Morgan said. We were standing in the kitchen now, looking around. “So, why would they suddenly use ecstasy and know how to properly dispose of it before anyone could find it?”

“Maybe they didn’t do X,” I said, shrugging.

“They had been drinking…” Spencer muttered to himself, grabbing a napkin to pick up a wine bottle that was sitting on the counter. I opened the dishwasher to see two wine glasses in there. He was right. “They probably just got home from work, decided to unwind before their daughter would come home.” Spencer carefully set down the bottle, then raced to go find Gina for a drug testing vial. When he returned, he used the dropper to suck up a bit of the wine, then squeezed it into the vial. It immediately turned blue, letting us know that it had been dosed with PMMA. Spencer stood up straight. “The Unsub wants to increase his body count. He doesn’t care who he hurts. There’s probably dozens to hundreds of spiked bottles still out there.”

“Should we put out a warning?” I asked.

“And create mass hysteria?” Morgan scoffed. “We have no concrete proof that there’s more of these bottles out there. We should start by tracking this bottle, then go from there.”

I nodded an agreement. “I’ll call Hotch to let the team know that we’re looking into wine now.” I grabbed my phone and stepped away while dialing him. He answered with his name. “Hey, we’re just finishing up here,” I told him. “Their wine had been spiked, so you guys might want to start looking into where they got the bottle and whatnot.” Hotch hummed and agreement. He didn’t really sound like he was listening. “Baby?”

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll tell the team.”

“Your brain’s scattered, I can tell. Talk to me.”

“I’m still worried that Sean knows more than he’s letting on.”

“You just need to give him a break for now, I think. He might loosen up.”

“That’s not the problem. He’s already tense, but it’s because he’s worried about protecting himself from the law and the big brother act.”

“Just take it easy on him, my love. Please.”

“I told you I was done with him after Haley’s death. Why—”

“Because he’s family.”

He sighed heavily. “I know. Listen, I’ve gotta call you back. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Bye.”

Just as he hung up, I whispered, “Bye.”

“Is he okay?” Morgan asked from behind me, scaring the absolute shit out of me, making me physically jump with shock. He chuckled. “Sorry.” I caught my breath and turned to face him. “Seriously… Do you think he’s okay?”

I shrugged. “I think he will be. I think that right now he’s just sick and tired of cleaning up Sean’s messes, but without Sean, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe the two of you shouldn’t be here. Maybe that’s why Hotch is annoyed.”

“You think he’s mad because I’ve been pushing him to work the case when we were supposed to take the weekend off?”

“I think that he’s mad that he loves his brother enough to give up a weekend alone with you just to get dragged back into all of this when you were supposed to be focusing on each other.”

“When did Derek Morgan get all wise about relationships?”

“I’ve always been wise about relationships. You just always forget it.”

Hotch was already calling back, so I abandoned the personal conversation with Morgan to answer what was hopefully going to be a work call. Thankfully, it was. Hotch called again to let us know that Sean wanted to go back to the club to talk to Thane while wired up, potentially giving us information on the Unsub, or at least enough to take down Thane and everyone else responsible for what happened to the victims at The Edinburg.

“Are you sure about this?” I inquired.

“I already tried arguing with him, but he’s stubborn.”

“Sounds like that runs in the family, too.”

“Ha. Ha,” he laughed sarcastically. “Can the three of you meet us at The Edinburg? We’ll have an undercover van to wait in.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too.”

----

When we jumped into the van, Hotch was listening to the live audio feed coming from Sean’s wire under his shirt, but he stopped somewhat to catch us up on everything. Sean had mentioned that he was talking to the cops. Because Thane was on edge, he demanded to know everything that happened at the precinct and how much the cops knew. Sean played it smart. He said exactly what Thane wanted to hear, and it gained his trust and got the heat off his back. Hotch was actually impressed.

Morgan handed me a vest to put on. As I did so, Hotch continued to explain that Sean was bringing up the spiked wine right now to see if he could get a reaction out of Thane, now we were just playing the waiting game. If Thane said anything incriminating, we were going to move in. If Sean was in danger in any way, we were going to move in.

“Maybe you should dump that wine, just to be safe,” someone in the background said. We all stopped to listen.

“Right,” Thane agreed. “Sean, I need your help with something.” It suddenly sounded like they were on the move. “I need you to dump these.” He was getting Sean involved with a crime to make sure he wouldn’t tell the cops anything, which was smart on his behalf.

“You don’t want me to dump the whole case?”

“No, just those two for now.” Thane sounded really freaked out and on edge.

“Something wrong?”

“Yeah… I, uh… I could’ve sworn there was another case of that stuff.”

Sean hesitated for a second. “I don’t think so.” He sounded nervous now, too. “Nothing’s gone missing since I last did inventory. Everything’s here. Besides, if it really is gone, it’s probably for the best. Just means it’s one less thing to dump.”

“It’s not here… No, no, no, no, no. It’s not here!” Thane smashed something on the ground out of anger. “Fuck!”

“What did you do, Thane?”

“I spiked the wine, you idiot. Three other bottles were in that case.”

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“I thought it was just X! I thought it was going to loosen the girls up!”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t X, Thane!” Sean yelled angrily. “Linda’s dead because of you. Where did you get it? You son of a bitch! She was sober and you drugged her!” The sound of punches being thrown echoed through the speaker, making all of us jump into action.

Just as Hotch made the call over the comms to move in, SWAT raced in to arrest the employees that had been sitting around with Thane beforehand, but Hotch and I rushed straight to the back room to help Sean. Thank had a box cutter out, lunging at Sean. I stopped him by kicking the back of his knee forward, making him fall to the ground. Without hesitation, I knelt down, grabbing my handcuffs from the back of my waistband, and I started arresting Thane.

“You okay?” Hotch asked his brother.

Sean, still upset about the whole situation, silently pushed past his brother and headed outside. I pulled Thane to his feet. Hotch and I glanced at each other for a moment, but I silently shook my head, letting him know that he shouldn’t go chasing after Sean unless he wanted to make things worse, which I knew he didn’t. So, I took Thane outside while Hotch stood still.

As Morgan and I loaded Thane and the other employees into the SWAT van that would take them into custody, Hotch came running out, fear and panic washed across his face. I raised a brow at him. He was running back and forth on the sidewalk, looking high and low. Did we miss something? Was there another bottle somewhere? Someone hiding?

“Hotch, what’s wrong?” I asked him, closing the doors of the SWAT van. Morgan patted it, letting them know they were free to go. “Hotch, what is it?”

Hotch didn’t say anything. He only turned his phone around to show me the screen and the text message from Sean that said: “I’m sorry.” Sean ran for some reason, and Hotch was left worried about his little brother again. Fucking Sean. He did this every time, and there were only so many times that I could keep defending him and continue convincing Hotch to stay in contact with him. He was making my job really fucking difficult.

“Sir, we found the club owner, Jim Peters,” a SWAT agent said after jogging over to us.

“Where?” I asked.

He looked at me, shocked that I was taking the lead and not Hotch. He cleared his throat. “Couple of blocks from here. His car was wrecked with him inside.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s dead. The M.E.’s there now.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Morgan mumbled under his breath.

The four of us started walking there, taking the SWAT agent’s lead, and Spencer caught up to us, following along my side. When we got there, he immediately parted from us to talk to the M.E. What a fucking shit show. Peters must have been trying to run away from us when the Unsub caught up to him. First, Linda, then he tried going for Thane but fucked up and drugged Anna, and now Peters was dead. Was he going for employees of the club? That had to be the answer, unless someone else fucked up the car and it was just a random hit and run—but considering that we were standing in a dark, quiet, abandoned alley, I highly doubted that this wasn’t motivated.

Reid came to tell us what he knew. The car crash had trapped Peters’ legs, preventing him from running away, but it was the PMMA that had been poured down his throat that actually killed him. So, it was definitely motivated. This was premeditated, the violence indicated a personal grudge because of the overkill, and the fact that this was more personal than any of the other murders.

“It’s too much of a coincidence,” Hotch said. “Sean ran, then this happened… I’m going to have Garcia run a background on Sean.”

“Come on, Hotch,” Morgan said, “you can’t think that it’s him.”

“I don’t, but I can’t eliminate him as a possibility now until I know what he’s hiding.”

I shook my head and sighed. “Absolutely not.” Hotch looked at me, bewildered. “You’re obviously not thinking straight, Aaron. Listen to yourself.” I shook my head again. “Go take a walk.”

“Y/N—”

It was like déjà vu when I insisted again that he leave and he reluctantly and angrily turned to leave the alley. Morgan and Reid were staring at me. They couldn’t believe that I had the audacity to bench Hotch, and that he actually fucking listened to me; but I think some part of Hotch knew that I was right, which was exactly why he listened and left.

“So, what do we know now that this guy is dead?”

“The Unsub doesn’t care about who dies now,” Reid explained. “The innocents were just a distraction, but the real targets, it seems, based on the brutality, are the employees of The Edinburg.”

“So, it’s personal.”

“Yeah.”

Morgan’s phone started ringing, probably with a call from Garcia because he smiled and answered with, “Hey, baby girl.” And then he put the call on speaker.

“Oh, you guys are going to love me,” Garcia said excitedly.

“We already do.”

“Yes, but even more now. I just found out that our first victim at The Edinburg that Sean knew about, Erik Sullivan, and our recently and dearly departed Hatchitt parents, all withdrew money on the days of their deaths from the same ATM. Where is said ATM, you might be asking yourself, well, it’s located in a bodega two blocks from The Edinburg.”

“You’re right, we do love you, Garcia, thank you,” I said. I looked at the boys. “You wanna go check it out while I talk to Hotch?” They nodded and started walking towards one of the black SUVs. I spun around on my heels once they were gone, looking far and wide for Hotch, only to find that he was relaxing against a brick wall on the opposite end of the alley, hiding in the shadows. I headed over to him. “Okay, Batman, what gives?”

“I’m still worried about Sean,” he admitted. “I hate that I am, though, because I’m honestly sick of this. I keep saying it again and again, but I really mean it this time, Y/N, and I need your support on this.” He looked up at me. “I told you that I was done playing his games after he didn’t show up to Haley’s funeral. I found out that you had invited him to the wedding anyhow—”

“You knew about that?”

“Of course I did. You suck at lying to me.”

I smirked. “Or so you think.”

He grinned, too, but after a moment, it faded again. “Once I know that Sean’s safe, this is over. I don’t want our family getting dragged into anymore of my brother’s messes. My job is to protect you, love of my life,” he put his hands on my cheeks, “and our children back at home. Being raised by a distant relative who’s prone to bad habits isn’t a good role model to have around. We’ve worked too hard to protect Jack and Scar to have Sean keep coming back and fucking it all up.”

“I get that, Aaron, I really do…” I put my hands on his shoulders. “But Sean is our family the same way Jessica and Elle are. Therefore, his messes are always going to be our messes. We can’t forget that.”

“I can, and I’m choosing to after this.”

“Hotch, he’s your brother.”

“I know, which is why I want to protect him right now.” He groaned when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. “Hotchner.” His attention suddenly snapped up to me. “Sean, I need you to come in. I think that the Unsub might be targeting Edindurg employees. You’re safer with us at the precinct.” Silence for a bit. “I know that you didn’t kill him, Sean. I also know why you ran.” A beat as I raised a curious brow. “Just come in so that we can protect you. No, wait, Sean—” Hotch pulled the phone away from his ear after his brother hung up on him. “Shit.”

My phone buzzed this time, and I almost expected that it was Sean, for some reason. My hopes dropped somewhat, though, when I saw that it was just JJ, letting me know that Thane cracked without much pressure, giving us everything he knew. We knew about the entire distribution line now because we offered him protection against the Unsub. He told them that the PMMA was coming through a private airport outside of the city. Garcia was already looking into employees who could’ve had a stressor recently to convince them to smuggle the drug and distribute it as a means of murder.

I told Hotch as we headed back to the SUV so that we could race back to the office to catch up with everyone. When we got there, JJ, Rossi, and Strauss were on a video call with Garcia as she looked something up. They asked where Morgan and Reid were. I told them that they were going to take a look at the ATM and the bodega where the victims had supposedly bought the wine, just to see if we could make a connection there. Hotch and I took a seat when no one said anything else.

“Uh oh,” Garcia muttered, typing faster.

“Uh oh?” Strauss questioned.

“I ran financial records for all the people who work at the Franklin Airport, just like I said I would, and I found this one baggage handler, Mike Spiers, who’s been making ridiculously large cash deposits to his checking account on a weekly basis.”

“That could mean he’s the Unsub.”

“That’s what I thought at first, too, but then I found the ‘uh oh’ part. He’s been dead for four weeks.”

“Someone’s taken his place. Whoever is making those deposits is our Unsub,” Hotch said. “It’s probably another baggage handler who knew about Spiers’ death and was paid to look the other way, just like Sean was at the club.”

“Garcia, do any of the baggage handlers show a history of drug abuse?” I asked her up on the screen.

“None. They’re surprisingly squeaky clean.”

“What about drug-related deaths in the family recently?” Hotch questioned. I thought about how great minds thought alike.

“I saw something earlier…” She trailed off while researching. “Larry Feretich—Right, yes, okay, I got it. Larry Feretich’s daughter died two months ago of a suspected ecstasy overdose—I’m so sorry I didn’t spot it earlier, Hotch.”

“You weren’t looking for family; it’s okay.”

“Where did she die?” Rossi asked.

“The Obsidian, which is the other club that Jim Peters owned.”

“There’s the stressor and the personal vendetta for you.”

“Where is he now?” Strauss spoke up.

“He’s scheduled to be working right now.”

Hotch pulled out his phone and started texting someone. “Morgan and Reid are already half way there, we’ll send them to meet up with SWAT and arrest him.”

“Seems like Sean can come back now since we’ve exonerated him,” I said. I stood up and passed my hand over his, knowing that I couldn’t plainly touch him while Strauss was around.

Hotch nodded. “I’ll let him know to meet us at the penthouse, I suppose, since our weekend isn’t technically over yet.”

“You’re damn right it’s not. I meant what I said about a godson,” Rossi joked.

We smiled politely at him before waving goodbye to everyone and heading out of the Field Office to go back to the penthouse. In the car, while I was driving, Hotch texted Sean. I took his had in mine and squeezed. We were okay. Our weekend wasn’t completely ruined yet. Everything was going to be fine.

When we got there, Hotch stayed in the entryway, waiting impatiently. I asked him what was wrong. He looked at me and shook his head, insisting that it was nothing.

“We don’t lie to each other, remember?” I interrogated.

“I’m not lying, baby, I’m just protecting you from the truth. They’re different.” He looked at me. “Can you accept that this one time? For me?”

I nodded, then continued to wait with him silently until there was a knock at the door, encouraging Hotch to quickly open the door and invite Sean in. He waved politely at me and I returned the favor. Hotch was staring at me, though, trying to tell me something that I didn’t recognize this time around. I knew all of his looks, but not this one.

“Can you give us some privacy, baby?” he whispered.

“Sure. I love you,” I whispered back, leaning in to kiss him quickly.

He grabbed my hips. “I love you, too. I’ll meet you in there soon.”

We kissed again before letting go of each other, giving me the freedom to wave goodbye to Sean over my shoulder, then make my way to the bedroom.

-----

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